A Crimson Tale

by K. L. O Johnson

  “What possession may that be?” I question still meeting his gaze. After a long pause, his eyes pull away from mine where he turns to pure some ail from a large flask into a metal mug. His large hand wraps around the mug making it appear smaller than what it actually was. I appear fairly dainty compared to the men but I don’t complain up until now. I scold myself for my physical stature at the moment before he places the mug down after he engulfed the fluid.

  “The Prince,”

  “The Prince, what?” I ask. His eyes narrow down on me.

  “You didn’t know did you?” he questions. I glance at Altair with confusion and he refuses to meet my gaze. I turn my attention to Vedric who regards the General with disorientation. I storm through the forest, twigs snap forcefully under my boots, my anger fuming within me. “Kal!” I hear Altair call. “Kal!” he continues but I ignore him until I’m stormed far from the edge of the forest. I turn around and growl at Altair.

  “You knew! You and everyone! I was the only one left in the dark!” I snap forcing him back where he stumbles. I shove him harder, until his back is up against a near tree. “I trusted you!” I yell. “Why did you betray me?” I cry and his eyes are dark. He doesn’t say anything. Realizing I’m yet to lose control of myself I take a step back or a few and sit down on the nearby boulder. I turn my back on him.

  The air is filled with a shattering silence which comforts my aching heart. I can’t believe what they did; I can’t believe I let this happen. I recall that same conversation as we were still engaged in it. “I never betrayed you!” he barks back. “I had no choice.”

  “Since when do you do as the Chief says?” I growl and he glares icy blue daggers my way not that I would waver. I stop myself.

  “Then why?”

  “Why what?”

  “Why the secrets?” I express slowly. “Why the lies? Why the deceit? Did you believe you could not trust me?” I retort.

  “You know why we couldn’t!” he snaps now standing before me his eyes glower on me and I take a step back. The reality hit me, I’ve done what they’ve done, and I’m the one that brought this on. I had no right to be mad, how can I? When my whole life to those who don’t truly know me is nothing more than a lie. “Kalverya I’m sorry.” he whispers. I hold up my hand which effectively cuts him off.

  “Don’t be sorry.” I confess. I deserved it at least I never cried wolf! I’m the one that can’t be trusted my credentials and my identity is the truth but my walls, my guards are nothing but lies. I would use it to hurt others only because I didn’t want to be close to people—feared being hurt. The system really screwed me up, this is my own fault and it’s because of my stupid emotional defense. ‘You’re right I can’t be trusted.’ I think and his face blanks. ‘I’ve never lied to you though. I had no reason to. With that in the air between us I leave, I don’t even glance back. How could I?’ It was true what I said I never had any reason to lie to Altair because I felt safe.

  I sit in the cliffs high above the forest, why I always seem to find myself in high places really is odd, I’ll be here always. It is my way of closing off the world around me, I never meant to snap at Altair like that but I knew in the end it really couldn’t be helped. The decision was made and I’m to be no apart of his life. Varden will have to walk his own way and mine…my own. Anyway, if he is a Prince he’s born to be with someone other than me. The thought aches but I brush it off and turn to the presence behind me. “Thought I would find you here.” says a familiar female voice. I don’t turn over to greet her, she knows me all too well. “I see you have another problem.”

  She stands beside me, her blue fleecy gown draped over her front and rear which fall to the grounds, blue scales wrap themselves around her from head to toe while her gown falls around her like slightly transparent curtains. Her silver hair is long down to the back of her knees. I look out to the distant ranges. “Why do I do this to myself?”

  “It is in you.” she says and I know what she means.

  My name.

  8:Conspiracies

  © 2014—All rights reserved by author

  That name ever since I can remember has brought me nothing but suffering and pain. My heart tortured by those around me to the point where it is completely irreparable. “He reminds you of him, doesn’t he?” I nod, the words wouldn’t leave my mouth. I fell for a human man long time ago, he was someone I could never have and yet that didn’t barricade my heart but in the end, I never had what I wanted and maybe I never will. I had never even known if he returned those feelings—such a pity. “Beings in this universe are cruel. You know that. All they want is possessions; power, money and beauty. They forgot their original purpose all too quickly and yet you allow them to pull you down, why?” she asks.

  “I don’t know. Maybe because I deserve it?”

  “Wrong!” she says. “No one deserves any of this. No one deserves pain. Yet it’s there. No one deserves oxygen yet it is there. No one deserves to be alone and yet they are. In the shadows. Some have unfounded potential like you and others we’ll they aren’t something I expected to see. They know not the term: “respect”?” she churns with disgust and I release a gentle giggle. Nerelda always made me feel better. She too is given a job by the Gods to protect and guide our people and here I am here centuries later alone and in pain. Everyone believes that there is more to life yet some believe we were given a greater purpose. Still even if that is so…we still deserve the contentment in our lives—something that takes forever to ascertain.

  “Why?” I ask.

  “Why what?” she peers her tone high. The end of the sentence is brought up to emphasize her confusion. I don’t say anything and she continues because she’s good at that. “The reason why you are the way you are is not because the gods or your parents hate you or even those lowly people you see every day of your life but instead. I believe. This is just a theory mind you…I believe that you can carry the world on your shoulders, carry their burdens and pain, still give back to those who can’t or never will be able to afford any more than oxygen while others you protect. I don’t know about you but I believe those are the qualities of a real leader.” She lifts me to my feet and I turn to face her, her hands remove my helmet and it vanishes but I know it’s not completely gone. She traces my forehead. “Remember that. That is what we were looking for. That is what will lead us should you give the word we will follow.” she says and I shake my head.

  “I don’t want people to follow me; I don’t want people believing in me. I’ll just let them down in the end you know I’m a notorious liar. People won’t expect anything more from me.” I say she gives me a playful look as her blood red lips pull themselves into a smile.

  “I do because you’ve never let me down nor have you lied to me. When my life was in danger and our people slaves who saved us?” That’s rhetorical. “When others were afraid of the darkness you stood first not because you weren’t scared but because you had nothing to lose. And remember those men in the woods. You could have left them to die but you didn’t and sent them to court for their crimes.”

  Nerelda continues, “There are both good and bad qualities in you and in everyone but for you dear child this is something you must learn to balance. If you can’t be a leader than give people the reason to stand in the face of fear and danger.” I smile at her and wrap my arms around her. It’s been a long time since I’ve had this kind of warmth and I can’t help but close my eyes and indulge in it if I can. “Everyone has a path, everyone has their particular reason they are born. You just have to find out your reason.” I pull myself from her and lift my hand where she places my helmet securely on my palm. “Now, enough of that you ready?” she asks and I raise my brow.

  “For what?” I question as I pull on my helmet.

  “What do you mean for what? To return you home.” she says enthusiastically.

  Home is all I can think of, it was and is my place, and it is where I made myself belong. Not on Earth. Even though I grew up
there I always felt out of place but Nephelia is where my father was from and my mother, that is my home and the Nephalem is my heritage. I want to go home I really do. “Nerelda…” I trail off unsure how to approach this.

  “But you want to stay.” she finishes. I scowl.

  “Heavens no!” I squelch and her blue eyes like mine are wide at my reaction. The last time I saw that reaction it was when I battled a large serpent demon and was sent into one of the portals she sent to one of the man areas of Earth, I succeeded in slaying the demon but her face was like now. The silver hair and blue eyes are the angelic and demonic traits we have. Yet we vary from different skin shades to pale white like my father to charcoal like the color ash. Still our eyes always stand out like our silver hair.

  “Then what?” she asks.

  “I need to know more about the Covenant.” Her face becomes grim but she accepts my request nonetheless.

  “There is much I know but not much I can tell you. There is a man, your Chief Commander will know the answers you seek, and his name is Sir Hughes Donnavin.”

  *.*.*

  I step on the concrete pavements of New York City. I can’t help but feel fairly odd at the sight of this place; it definitely has changed since, I was last here. The cars, in this planet’s current time, have no wheels and now zoom around hovering half a meter from the ground; the cars are slick and compact. It reminds me of those sci-fi movies I would watch as a teenager. Yet I have to remind myself that this is reality, I am well over two hundred years old. No surprise I guess. The advertisements for products of hair, skin and flight tickets were seen not on billboards but flashing screens that flick across the tinted glass, I only now recognize them as office buildings as they stretch high and glorious into the sky. Things sure have changed.

  At that regard, I know that I’ll have to catch up with the new technology not that it matters, they are several hundred millennia behind us. I stalk through the crowded streets and I’m surprised it seems not as dark as its past was, that just shows that maybe they managed to create a sustainable natural energy efficient environment. Last time I heard, all the nuclear weapons were destroyed while nanomites were used to repair, construct and reshape the bone marrow as well as speed up self-generation. I turn down Fiftieth and Fifty Second Street and I count down the numbers. Why the city was designed with such weird street numbers only confused me more, probably why long ago Australians would wonder with maps or people they knew. Mainly people they knew. American cities were dangerous but then again so was every other place including secluded islands. Their venomous snakes and man eating sharks only wait for your attempt at suicide.

  I stand at the steps of two closely positioned apartments, the red brick walls only appearing younger than what I had expected. I wasn’t too sure if they demolished it than rebuilt it but this is America there’s nothing they do without reason. I trudge up the steep steps and knock on the door. Nothing, seeing a buzzer beside it I press the small black button. The stench of this place really didn’t do me any favors, as I walked the streets in a coat, hat and sunglasses. Since I couldn’t exactly get rid of my uniform, so instead, I just managed to pass as some well-fashioned mystery this is one of the main reasons, why I avoid Earth. A voice immediately, pulls through the speaker. “May I help you?” the old female voice asks and I press the black button again and speak.

  “Mr. Hughes Donnavin.” I say.

  “One moment,” I hear the echoing steps of a slender man, no doubt in his late years. Not much I can tell other than that; which I still think is pretty good in a way. The door opens and a man with blond hair gestures me to enter. I nod and follow.

  “What brings you here?” he asks.

  “Sir Hughes Donnavin?” I question as I glance down at the scribbled handwriting I was given by the Chief. At the time he was fussing over his daughter as she went around to hand out coffee to several desk workers that she knew or was familiar with. That father-daughter relationship is odd, it took me a good few hours to get the Chief to scribble down the Marshall’s name while he was pulling up Tessa for every small thing. Taking in his appearance I expected more. Much more. I still have no idea how this man was a: Silver Order Marshall. He looks pretty human to me.

  “Yes.” he says with a gaze at the piece of paper. I fold it away and I clear my throat, still wondering how I was going to go about this he may lock me up in a psychiatric ward. Humans can be scary in a way. That’s the last place I want to be, that, and a lab of course.

  “Do you know of a Sir Gustof Donnavin?” I ask. His eyebrows arch in surprise.

  “I haven’t heard that name in a long time.” he says reflectively before his eyes narrow down on me. “Who are you and how do you know that name?” he asks. I slip my hand through my coat and pull out my badge from my utility belt and flash it to him. The woman peering around the corner, was short and stumpy—time wasn’t kind to her, as her grey eyes hold suspicion. I place my badge away as Hughes motions me to follow him up the narrow brown winding staircase. How people lived in such close quarters almost made me feel claustrophobic in comparison to the space of the Order. I glance over my shoulder at the woman as I ascend the last set of stairs. “Don’t worry about her, she’s a nosy old bag.” he comments and I lift a brow. He shrugs off my questionable yet intimidating gaze which I don’t think he realize s applies to me as well.

  We make our way to his apartment in silence, the jingling of his keys clash loudly in my ears. I clench my jaw closed, forcing it not to growl at the man before me who finally manages to have his door open which didn’t completely open. He jerks it further and like that it finally opens and he smiles over at me, stepping side he ushers me in.

  “You thirsty or hungry?” he asks. I shake my head. “Do say I didn’t offer.”

  He moves over to his small old plump couch.

  “The Covenant weren’t always around, weren’t always…what they are now. They were something that many feared when the treaty was signed between the governing worlds that have been abandoned by the United Planets.” I remain silent as I continue to listen to the tale, to the ties of the treaty to the slaughter of the ancient bloodlines and royal families that governed the worlds of Babylon, Persia, Sparta, Zylaria and Talin. The Nephalem rose to fight the bloodlines but it was all for naught when the royal family was destroyed. “Not many people have risen up against the Covenant they are what governs all the worlds without its rightful rulers and royal guardians. The royal bloodlines are what gave the power their worlds however, I’ve noticed that there is still preserved power upon the four fallen worlds so I believe maybe they haven’t completely killed off each royal descendent but left them alive for a later purpose.”

  “So the Midra city in Zylaria is equivalent to the other major cities on the other four worlds.” I say. He nods. “I think things just became a little more complicated.”

  “Were you given something?” he asks me and I glance at him catechizing.

  “No, I would remember if I were.”

  “Are you sure? Your Order, as you have told me has been infiltrated. No doubt many have lost their lives.” His eyes are full of pain and I realize than he fears for his brother and niece that I have yet to confirm them as alive. “Did the Order carry a major burden of some sort?”

  “I figured it would have affected all of us but not to this extent. I never really gave it much though.”

  To make the ideal child—to make the perfect warrior, Nephalem women do not carry their child but do conceive it with their chosen mate. The child is then incubated by Tylif until it is ready to be born.

  Medical, biological and energetic checks are conducted on the child to determine if it is healthy and fit for battle. The Nephalem have created a society based on the energetic strength and bond with their powers. The strongest of them is often a descendent of the royal family or a high priest or priestess where they work within the Hall of Gods with the prophets ensuring the race’s survival.

  They are very few Nephale
m—the Covenant was created after the, dwindle of hybrid numbers to ensure its rain—its closure to ensure its influence. Many still hunt down the Nephalem in fear of their power and chance of survival. The animals, they are, the beasts. The dragon race they are…as such they are hunted and slain out of fear.

  The Nephalem cousins the Nephilim are sheltered on an adjacent world; they too can repopulate as any species would but are sub—divided into angel and demon, depending on their heritage. They are the ones with angel and Nephalem blood or demon and Nephalem blood. These are also those that the angels and demons have conceived with humanoid beings whether they be; Spartan, Persian, Babylonian, Zylarian and Talian. This also refers to those of Earth. The Grattican—beings they have been around as long as the Dragon Race as long as the ‘Nephalem’—the Serpents. The Nephalem’s sworn enemies, they are a different breed of dragons. Snake like beings with paws and claws; they are wingless but have their own power.

  I take in his words, when I hear the shattering of glass; I turn to the sound where a thirty-two millimeter hole is present. I see nothing but can smell blood. I turn to Gustof he falls down on his couch as blood pools out of the mark on the side of his head. I stare at his form; he was here alive a few seconds ago. He only spoke to me a few seconds ago. I turn back to where the projectile entered from, I stand on my feet. I leave. Everything will be okay I tell myself. Everything will be okay. There’s an explanation for everything. Why would he need to be assassinated?

  *.*.*

  S-M-A-C-K! The sound echoes through the library foyer where my hand made contact with well chiseled features now a shade of red. He places his hand upon his cheek. His eyes still remain playful. “What’s wrong with you?” I demand and his eyes become soft as his lips curl into a gentle smile. “Is this some game?” I ask. Altair now stands with that playful look in his eyes. I had entered the library in search of a book on recounts of the Covenant and their occurrence. I needed more information and at that time I found Altair. He just so happens to be in the same section—coincidentally and I know that that is not true since I saw him follow me from the Mass Hall.