Rise of the Mystics

by Ted Dekker

  For a few moments they studied each other.

  “Then I’ll say what I came to say and hope you see what I can see,” Aaron said. “Until recently I would have said that the Horde was the greatest threat facing our world, if for no reason than your sheer numbers. Even this morning, I wondered. But now I see the slaughter on both sides and I have reason to believe the Leedhan who came to us was right. There’s a greater threat to Elyonites than Horde.”

  The Leedhan who’d set his path on stopping the 49th.

  “I’m assuming he came to you as well,” Aaron said.

  “He did.”

  “So you know his claim.”

  “That both Elyonites and Horde will be destroyed if the 49th isn’t stopped. You’re saying you believe this nonsense?”

  Qurong half believed it himself, but he wanted to gauge the man.

  “Isn’t that what we’re witnessing on the battlefield?” Aaron said. “But there’s more. I have reason to believe that we have in our hands the means to destroy the Realm of Mystics. If we can, the prophecy is vacated. Once it is, we can resume whatever battle we still have a taste for.”

  “As I see it, I have the advantage now, while you’re still reeling from your underestimation of my power. You wish me to pause so that you can regroup?”

  “I’m more than happy to continue slaughtering your army. It’s only a matter of time before you’re all dead. But that still doesn’t deal with the greater threat that faces both of us.”

  “The 49th Mystic.”

  “I’ve seen her deception firsthand. I saw the way she was with Jacob. My father is an old man, hardly capable of leading but not easily disturbed, and yet after ten minutes with her he was foaming at the mouth. And in our courts, no less. Did you know she has the power to heal herself? I had her blinded, yet she now sees.”

  Qurong heard it all, but his mind was on his son. “You saw the way she was with Jacob . . .”

  “The way she had him wrapped around her fingers. She an Albino and he Horde, trembling in each other’s presence. A diabolical kind of love. They bewitch each other. How can an Albino love any Horde?”

  “My son is now Albino!”

  “He is?” Aaron looked caught off guard. “You saw this?”

  “And she is Horde.”

  Aaron hesitated, clearly perplexed by the revelation.

  “More deception,” he finally said. “And your son isn’t the only one she would beguile.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean Samuel of Hunter, from among the small band who call themselves the Circle.”

  Thomas of Hunter’s son. Thomas, who’d stolen Chelise from him.

  “Go on.”

  “The 49th has the power to expose the Realm of Mystics. The Leedhan said we must force her to expose it quickly, before she gains more power to destroy us all. I now know where the Realm is, but it can’t be seen unless she’s present. It’s the kind of wicked magic these Mystics seem to have.”

  “I don’t see what this has to do with the Hunter boy.”

  “We need the 49th to expose the Realm, but we don’t have her. What we do have is Samuel. He and a small band of the Circle fight with us now. I have reason to believe that if we offer him up to be killed, she’ll come to save him, despite the fact that he’s betrayed her. When she does, we will be ready.”

  “Why would she come if he betrayed her?”

  Aaron shrugged. “I saw them together. She loves him. An absurd, naïve love. She should punish him for his betrayal, but these heretics have the absurd notion that love holds no record of wrong. They don’t understand Elyon’s judgment or justice. Trust me on this, we’ve been dealing with these heretics for many years.”

  “And you do understand Elyon’s judgment, which is why you would destroy all Horde.”

  Aaron arched his brow. “As you would destroy all Albinos. But we are reasonable men. And reason now calls us to consider the greater threat facing us all.”

  Qurong noted for future reference that Aaron was comfortable betraying his own, something that always made his skin crawl.

  “How would you offer him up?”

  “On the battlefield for all to see.”

  “She has a wizard with her. He’s not a weak man.”

  “And we have two armies.”

  Samuel, along with his father, was also one of the Horde’s greatest enemies. The Albinos had stolen his daughter and now his son. Taking Thomas’s son had a ring of justice to it. If the plan worked and they were able to kill the 49th and destroy her Realm of Mystics, all the better.

  But Aaron was still a man cut from the cloth of betrayal.

  “Where is this Realm?”

  “Across the Divide, half a day’s ride.”

  “How can I be assured this isn’t a ploy to lure my army into your lands? As you can tell, my army favors the desert.”

  “Of course. Which is why I’m willing to give myself into your custody as a guest if the 49th takes the bait. My life will be in your hands. Kill me and my army will tear you limb from limb, naturally, but rest assured, I have no desire to die.”

  The Elyonites were as preoccupied by this prophecy as Ba’al if they were willing to go to such lengths. Qurong shifted his eyes to the horizon beyond Aaron. His skin prickled with the realization that the world truly was on the cusp of a great turning.

  “I suggest we suspend battle at sunset under the guise of regrouping,” Aaron was saying. “Tomorrow, we deal with the heresy of the 49th.”

  For the first time since he’d laid eyes on Jacob as Albino, Qurong felt a measure of peace. Ba’al would be out of his mind with delight.

  “I’ll give the order to cease all engagement at sunset,” he said with a nod.

  “And I will deliver Samuel of Hunter when the sun rises.”

  “So be it.”

  “So be it.”

  Aaron drew his horse around.

  “One more thing,” Qurong said. “Is Thomas of Hunter among these warriors from the Circle?”

  “Thomas? No. Samuel tells me he’s gone into the Realm of Mystics, searching for meaning. I suppose we will bring it to him soon enough.”

  28

  THE SEA had turned to glass, green but transparent, so when I looked down I could see what looked like a thousand miles of never-ending water. There was no wind that I could feel—the old boat seemed propelled by some other power as it slipped through the water. I stood beside Talya, caught up in a transcendent awe that robbed me of breath.

  After the storm’s sudden passing we’d traveled far, but I had no way of telling how far, because there was no shore either ahead or behind. The sky had turned from blue to a majestic painting of green and orange and lavender, flowing with long tendrils of blue light.

  I could feel a slight vibration through the boat’s wooden panels, like an electric current. And when I dared dip my hand in the water, that same hum rode up my arm and filled my mind with amazement. I jerked my arm back, gasping, and Talya chuckled.

  He dug a small shell from his pocket, leaned over the bow, scooped the seawater into it, and stood up. He pointed to the outer shell.

  “Your earthen vessel. Rachelle.”

  Then he showed me the water inside the shell.

  “You. Inchristi.”

  “Me,” I said, smiling.

  He emptied the water from the shell back over the edge of the boat, where it was swallowed up in the sea. Then he pointed at it. “You!”

  “Me!”

  And he dropped the shell into the bottom of the boat, grinning wide like a child.

  We didn’t speak again as we moved east, always east. Every time I thought of something I should ask or say, it immediately became unimportant and forgotten. Like lost fireflies, those thoughts blinked on and off again, until I paid them no mind.

  I couldn’t, because my mind was being swallowed by unquestioning wonder.

  I knew I was on a quest to find five seals and that the next two would be found in a
nother dimension called Earth, but that didn’t concern me on those waters.

  I knew that on Earth I was lost and destitute, but this was hardly more distressing than a child getting lost in a maze while her mother looked on. In fact, an entire life was like that, I thought—getting lost in a dark maze for the wonder of finding the light. But my mother was smiling on me there, daring me forward.

  I knew that in a valley beyond the Great Divide, a million warriors had entered into an agreement to slay one another’s earthen vessels in a silly game called war, waged to defend sacred beliefs. That war was no different than exchanging bitter words or thoughts of judgment and grievance.

  I knew that only I could stop that war. That I would be shown the way. That I was experiencing that way now, drawn to some far shore I couldn’t yet see.

  But mostly I knew that I was light, and that everything else was only a matter of perception. I felt born again, and I was seeing the kingdom of heaven. In this experience, there were no problems except those I chose to see with distorted vision.

  I didn’t choose that because I’d surrendered my attachment to who I thought I should be and accepted myself as the light in the storm.

  All of this I knew intimately, without Talya having to say a word.

  Hours had passed, surely—or only minutes, I couldn’t tell—when Talya stood, leaning forward with one hand on the mast.

  “Do you see it?” he asked.

  I stood and stared and saw a sandy white beach in the distance. And beyond the beach, a colored forest. My heart caught in my throat. Now I could see how fast we were traveling, because the shore was silently rushing toward us, far faster than our wake would suggest.

  As we came closer, I saw a boy on the beach. A young boy of maybe twelve or thirteen, dressed in only a white loincloth, arms crossed and at ease, watching us.

  By his side, a lion. Judah.

  And then we were there, suddenly slowing to within twenty paces of the shore and its gently lapping waters.

  Talya lurched to his right, nearly tripping over the bow as he took to the water. He splashed, then was on his feet knee-deep, sloshing forward. I watched with amazement as he clambered from the water, rushed up the beach, robes flapping, and fell to his knees before the boy. Hands unsteady, he reached for the boy’s feet and kissed them lightly.

  The boy’s eyes, bright green like emeralds and smiling in amusement, remained on me. He giggled once, barely more than a hiccup, and only then slowly looked down.

  Talya wrapped his arms around the boy’s waist and clung to him tightly, shoulders shaking as he wept with gratitude. The boy draped one arm over Talya’s shoulders and lifted his eyes back up to me.

  “Come,” he said, motioning me forward with his free hand.

  To this point I’d been rooted to the boat’s floorboards, but that single word exploded in my mind like a fireball and I leaped from the boat, desperate to reach him.

  All I could think was, Me too! Me too! Silly and simple, but on that shore more profound than all the words found in a thousand books.

  I splashed through the water and hurried forward but pulled up three feet from him, suddenly aware of a crackling power that sent a buzz through my bones.

  I knew then without the slightest doubt who he was. I dropped to my knees, unable to stand.

  The boy stepped up to me, searching my eyes.

  “I’m so glad you came,” he said. His voice was youthful but carried an unmistakable authority. He leaned forward, kissed the top of my head, and nodded once, looking between Talya and me.

  Then Talya was chuckling as the boy grinned.

  Without any announcement, the boy turned and walked down the beach, leaving light footprints in the wave-washed sand. The lion was gone. Talya jumped to his feet and bade me follow like a frantic mother. Go, go, go! So I hurried forward with Talya at my heels.

  It was surreal, Talya and I following a boy who wasn’t a boy at all.

  He was Elyon. I could feel his power when my feet touched his footprints, as if there was energy in the sand itself, rising up through the soles of my bare feet.

  By showing himself to me as a boy, he was stripping away any preconceived notion I had of what I thought he should be, just like taking off the clay mask had stripped away my preconceived notions of what I thought I should be. My journey was to become like a child so I could see beyond what my programmed perception showed me.

  We walked in silence, me behind the boy, Talya behind me, and each step felt like a lifetime of wonder. After days of struggle, the deep rest I felt in following him was utterly intoxicating. In that space, I couldn’t imagine even thinking of a question, much less asking one. I had none.

  I didn’t know how far we’d walked when the boy turned, smiling, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. A light breeze lifted his bangs.

  “Do you want to see something?”

  Again, I glanced at Talya, who dipped his head. Yes, yes, of course you do.

  “I would love to,” I said.

  “Watch.” The boy leaped one long stride up the beach where the sand was darker, almost brown. He squatted and began drawing some words into the sand with his forefinger.

  Love. Light. Kingdom. Son. Daughter.

  Each word he etched into that dark sand filled with glowing light. I glanced at Talya, who watched eagerly.

  The boy drew a circle around the words and jumped back. “See?”

  “Beautiful,” I managed, watching the light flow like molten metal in each word.

  Like a conductor with a wand, he motioned to the circle. Immediately, the sand gathered and quickly formed a small human figure made of sand. The light was covered up by the dark sand.

  I stepped back, bumping into Talya, who gently placed his hand on my shoulder.

  The boy waved at the figure and it collapsed into the words written in light. Love. Light. Kingdom. Son. Daughter.

  He was showing me a story that symbolized his creation. In that place I understood the story implicitly.

  “Watch.” He jumped over to another bare patch of sand and quickly drew more words made of light.

  Lamb. God. Elyon. Boy. Father. Mother. Origin.

  This time he drew a square around the words.

  “Who do you say I am?” he asked, standing.

  I started to say the words he’d written, but I stopped. All of them were right and all of them were wrong at the same time.

  “That’s because language creates boxes of understanding in time. The infinite can’t fit into any of your small boxes called words, see?”

  “You’re the Word without words,” I said.

  “I am.”

  “You are infinite.”

  “I am.”

  “We cannot put you in a box.”

  “No.” And the square around the words vanished.

  “Yes!” Talya cried, pumping his fist.

  The boy grinned at him. “Talya is so easily excited.”

  “Me too,” I said.

  “Me too,” the boy said. “Watch this.” He swept his hand over the words at his feet, and the sand leaped into his palm as a ball of white light.

  He jumped over to the words love, light, kingdom, son, daughter and swept his hand over the circle. The sand swirled into a second ball of light, which leaped into his other hand. Now he had two balls of light, one in each hand.

  He brought them together to form one ball, which he held out. I blinked, delighted by his play. The orb of light hummed with power.

  He drew the ball back and hurled it over my head toward the sea. I spun and saw it meet the water. Instantly the endless sea turned white, blazing and humming with light under a blood-red sky.

  A wave of hot energy hit me, and I staggered back as the light rose from the sea and scattered into a canopy of countless tiny white lights against that red sky.

  “Wow!”

  Talya chuckled.

  The boy lifted his hand toward the sky and beckoned the lights with his finger. Come. One of the
pinpricks streaked toward us and stopped ten feet away, a small glowing orb that then shifted into the form of a human made of light.

  As I watched, a layer of dark sand began to wrap itself around the light-man until it looked like a gingerbread man made of sand. Blinded by the sand, the walking figure slowed, faltered, then fell from the air and plopped on the sand at our feet, where it lay on its back. There was a frown on its face.

  That’s like the Fall, I thought.

  The boy grinned. Then took a deep breath and blew toward the fallen figure. His breath whipped around the figure and blew the sand off, revealing the light it was. It leaped back into the air and began to walk again.

  And that’s like the wrath, I thought. It seemed to be the kindest thing in the whole world to me. How incredible was that?

  The boy motioned with the back of his hand, and the figure of light flew back into the sky to join the others, glowing once more.

  “The whole earth groans for the revealing of the sons of God,”1 he said, grinning. He crossed his arms and scanned the sky, beaming. “Amazing?”

  “Amazing,” I breathed.

  The sky shifted to hues of orange and green and bright blue. Everything was back to the way it was before he showed me how it all worked.

  “It’s all still unfolding, exactly as I always knew it would.” He turned and winked at me. “I don’t do oopses.”

  His choice of words offered in such common language delighted me, and I laughed. “No oopses!”

  He hesitated for a moment, then looked up at the tree line.

  “Which brings us to the reason for your coming here today. There’s someone I’d like you to meet. His name is Thomas.”

  There beside a tall tree with a golden trunk stood a man dressed in a white tunic and black pants. His hair was dark, flowing to his shoulders. Judah sat on his haunches a few feet away, tongue lolling from his mouth, panting.

  “Hello, Thomas,” the boy said.

  Thomas stepped down the bank, eyes on me. Then on Talya.

  “I’ve been showing Thomas a few things so he’ll be ready,” the boy said.

  Ready for what? But I was distracted by the sight of this legend who’d come from Earth as I had. I knew his face—everyone on Earth knew it. He’d saved Earth from the Raison Strain years earlier. Even in Project Eden we knew that.