by Matt Moss
Jack noticed something unusual about the stranger's eyes and the sight of them made him question his own bravery.
"Good luck," the stranger said.
Jack reared back and threw with everything he had. He caught the stranger square on the jaw, snapping the man’s head to the side.
The stranger snapped his head back, threw off his cloak, and grabbed Jack by the throat. The stranger tossed Jack across the room, slamming him against the far wall of the tavern. Jack's three friends jumped in.
A bright streak of silver flashed from the stranger’s side. Too quick, the sword turned red as he gutted two of the men.
Screams filled the room as people hurried for the door. Half the men, the ones who weren't running away, picked up a stool or whatever they could find to join the fight.
The third of Jack's companions landed a clean shot on the stranger. A silver streak shot through the companion's abdomen and pulled out as fast as it went in. A straight kick to the chest sent him flying towards the door, knocking people over who were trying to escape. Chairs flew and tables were pushed aside as the men pressed toward the stranger. The blade ran red as bodies hit the floor.
One man stood alone with a dagger in hand. He charged in a rage and met the same swift fate.
As the man in black pulled the blade from the last man's chest, he wiped the hair back from his face.
The sounds of dying men accompanied the crackling of the fireplace.
Mad Jack lay on the floor broken and wheezing. The stranger knelt down and met his gaze one last time.
Jack coughed blood. "Who are you?"
"Just a stranger," the man in black said.
Jack marveled at the strangeness in those eyes. His world went black as a boot crashed into his skull.
The stranger strode across the blood soaked floor and picked up his cloak. He flipped a copper coin on the bar as he made his way out.
He closed the door behind him.
The Whistlestop, the general goods store in The Crossing, could accommodate the needs of any traveler. It was Levi's, and he had been running it solely for many years. He bought, sold, and traded in rare goods and antiques; always keeping an appreciative eye out for anything of value. Behind his front desk was a collection of tomes and books.
Levi’s son, Arkin, knew the collection was his father's most prized possession, but he didn't know why. Arkin would rather experiment with all the other trinkets in the shop than stick his nose in a book.
Idling around the shop, Arkin picked up a wooden puzzle box that an old man had traded over the last traveling season. His hands moved the parts around as he tried to unlock the piece in the middle of the oak sanctum. Arkin had been trying to solve the puzzle since it had arrived in the shop. The last time he made an attempt, he had thrown it across the room.
"Son, make sure you dust everything off before you sweep."
"I'm supposed to meet my friends before dark," Arkin said. "Can't I clean it tomorrow?"
Levi ran an oiled cloth over a table. "You know spring is coming," he said. "The snow is melting, which means the traveling season is only a few weeks away."
Arkin put the box down.
"Why do you care about it being so clean?" he said and grabbed a rag, shoulders slouched. "I just cleaned it a week ago."
"Because, Arkin, a man needs to take pride in his work. It lets himself and everyone else know about his character."
"But I thought pride was a sin?"
"It is whenever someone is arrogant or boastful," Levi said, then took pause to gather his thoughts. "Confidence can sometimes be perceived by others as being arrogant." He rubbed at a spot on the table, "A good sense of pride comes from being confident and knowing that you did a job well done. It really just depends on the condition of a man's soul."
Levi paused to look up and noticed Arkin deep in thought.
"Do you understand what I am saying?" Levi asked.
"Yes, but what do you mean about the condition of a man's soul?"
Levi put the rag down and walked to Arkin. "A soul is the eternal spark that was created by God. It is the essence of who you are." Levi waved his hand and said, "It is constantly surrounded by good and evil in this world. When we die, our souls will live on, which is why we must live the purest and best life that we can while we are here."
Arkin nodded as he spoke, "I understand father."
He began polishing the shelves.
"That's my boy," Levi said with a smile, gazing up into Arkin's blue eyes. His son stood at least a head taller than most men. "I love you son, and I'm proud of you."
"Thanks. I love you too father," Arkin said with a smile. "What is it?" he said, noticing his father's peculiar stare.
"You have your mother's eyes," Levi said, turned, then limped back to the bookshelf.
Arkin noticed his father’s limp had become worse over the winter. An old wound from falling off a horse his father had once told him.
Levi removed a book, The Path of Man, and reverently laid the big, leather bound book on the table. Two more books were placed beside it.
Arkin meticulously cleaned; his mind distracted by the boredom of the small town that he had grown up in. He loved The Crossing, mainly because it was all he knew, but he wanted more. He longed for an adventure and a life of his own.
The fading light through the shop window caught his eye. Ready to catch up with his friends, he quickly finished cleaning the shelves. Turning, he noticed his father thumbing through the two smaller books while carefully writing notations in the big, leather bound book. He looked deep in thought.
Arkin was used to seeing his father like this of late, consumed by his books. He went to the closet and returned with a broom.
"I can't believe it," Levi said as he dropped the pen to the floor. "So, the stories are true."
"What is it?" Arkin hurried to the table to look over the books.
"I think I've found..."
BANG
BANG
BANG
"Sorry, we're closed," Levi said as he went to open the door.
A woman burst in, shaking from shock.
"Anna, what's wrong?" Levi asked.
Trembling, she could hardly speak. "A stranger all dressed in black came to the tavern. He said he was looking for you."
"Anna, calm down,” Levi said. “What happened?" He put both hands on her shoulders to comfort her.
"Mad Jack hit him," she said, stammering a bit. "Then the man in black grabbed Jack by the throat and threw him across the room with one arm. That’s when the fighting started. I left when I saw that."
"Just breathe," Levi consoled.
Arkin edged towards them, suddenly nervous.
After a moment, Anna began to calm a bit. "It was impossible the way he tossed Mad Jack around," she said and her eyes went distant.
"Describe him for me," Levi said. "You said he was dressed in black?"
"Yes, he wore a cloak with silver embroidery. It had a symbol or something on the back."
Levi took pen and paper from behind the desk. His hand quickly sketched a symbol, then handed it to her.
"That's it," she said.
Levi's face went stark. "Go out through the back, Anna, and make your way home."
She nodded and left, finding no need for words, still shaken from before.
Levi turned to Arkin. "Listen to me son."
"LEVI!" A booming voice came from outside.
Arkin turned toward the door, frozen.
"Son, pay close attention." Levi guided Arkin back to the table and pressed The Path of Man to his chest. "I need you to take this book and find the Prophet."
"LEVI!" The voice drew closer.
"Father," Arkin pleaded, shaking.
"Tell him the Garden of Stones is near. Go to your aunt's house in Hayfork," Levi said then hugged his son. "Take your horse out back."
"LEVI! Come and accept your fate."
Levi held Arkin at arm’s length. “Go son.”
&n
bsp; "But father."
"GO!"
Confused and shaken, Arkin turned and ran to the back door.
Levi reached behind the counter to remove the sword that was strapped beneath. He saw Arkin look back at him as he stood in the doorway. Levi’s heart filled with love and hope as he looked at his son. He gave a confident nod for his son to go. As Arkin left, Levi whispered a prayer. "Please God, watch over my son."
Levi turned the familiar blade in his hand and cleared his mind.
A strange twinkle set in his eyes as he walked out into the fading sunlight.
Levi met the stranger outside on the main street in The Crossing — a simple dirt road lined with shops.
The two men stood facing each other twenty paces apart.
"I see you still have that limp," the man in black mocked. "How long has it been? Seventeen years now?"
"Eighteen," Levi said. "I see you still bear that scar on your face."
"Thanks to you. Seems some scars never fade, as we both well know."
"Lucian,” Levi said, calling the stranger by name, “I know we have a past, but you can still change. You can still be a better man. I forgave you a long time ago."
"I loved her too, you know,” Lucian said. “But you just had to take her from me."
"She chose me by her own free will," Levi contested.
"Horse piss!" Lucian spat. "You brainwashed her just like you do everyone else. But enough of the past. Give me the book."
"Still taking orders like a dog I see," Levi said. "Tell your master that he's going to fail, like usual. The book is safe."
Lucian drew his sword. "Always the fool, Levi. My master cannot be stopped, and neither can I."
"I hope that your skills have improved after all this time," Levi said. "You never have been on my level." He turned his own sword in his hand.
"Say hello to your late wife for me," Lucian said, stepping towards Levi. “And tell her that I was the better man."
Arkin ran the horse up the hillside just behind the shop. Jumping to the ground, he tied the horse to the large pine — the one that his father hung a rope swing from years ago. Looking down, he saw the town empty, save for the two men in the street. They were talking.
What are they talking about, Arkin thought? Do they know each other?
He crept down through the bushes, careful not to make any sound. He had to get close enough to hear what they were saying. Sunlight on the horizon, red and orange, caught his eye as a cold chill ran down his spine.
Close enough, he thought. As best as his tall and lanky frame would allow, he hid behind a patch of blackberry bushes. The sweet smell reminded him of the first taste of homemade wine he had a few years back with his cousin Malik.
Then, quicker than Arkin thought possible, the two men collided with steel on steel. The clash echoed off the town's now empty shops. Arkin blinked and squinted, trying to focus on his father. The two men fought all over the narrow battlefield of the main street, their motions a blur.
How can my father move like that. Impossible.
Levi unleashed a flurry of strikes, catching the stranger off guard, and knocking the sword from his hands. The stranger quickly shot forward toward Levi, unarming him with the sudden charge. Both fought for holds until Levi dropped down and threw an elbow into the stranger's thigh, rendering him to the ground. Levi wrapped both hands around his opponent's leg and threw him fifty paces — sending the man crashing into the support beam of the town church.
How can father fight like this, Arkin thought. I didn't even know he could fight at all.
Levi picked his sword up from the ground and threw it toward the stranger. Spinning through the air, it narrowly missed the stranger’s head, and sunk into the beam of the church with a thud.
"Lucian, stop this madness!"
Peeking through the bush, Arkin heard his father address the stranger by name.
The stranger laughed, deep and sinister, as he pulled something from his pocket. His hand grasped firmly around a stone as he stretched his arm toward Levi. An unearthly, bright green beam of light shot straight up into the sky. Arkin shielded his eyes from the sudden flash. The outside of the beam was enveloped in a dancing green flame. After a few heartbeats, the light vanished, and the stone began to glow.
Levi lifted from the ground as a swirling green light circled around his body.
Arkin's eyes widened in horror.
"All your life you've been looking for these stones, guarding their secret," the stranger said. "Fool. Do you really think your Order has the only ones?"
Levi strained against the bond of light. "As I said, old friend... I forgive..."
"Spare me your pity!" Lucian shouted — his arm straining from holding onto the power of the stone. He clapped his arm down against his side.
In response, Levi flew through the air at incredible speed, his arms and legs dangling behind his torso. His chest slammed through the hilt of the sword, impaling him face flush against the beam of the church. The hilt, now a bloody cross, protruded from his back as he hung there.
Lucian seethed as the stone faded to a dull glow, then nothing.
Arkin clenched his jaw to keep from screaming as anger poured over him. His eyes blurred. He forced them shut, praying this to be a bad dream.
Lucian, cocked his head and looked at Levi. Reaching up, he tucked the stone into Levi's pocket. "A gift, old friend. You can stop searching now."
Lucian turned and walked into the Whistlestop with the dying light of day to his back.
Eyes filled with tears, Arkin crept back up the hill. His hands grasped for claim on the ground as his body resisted. Looking back one last time, he climbed upon his horse and rode as fast as he could. He rode all night.
Chapter Two
The Prophet sat behind a desk littered with books and scrolls. He stared at the unopened note in his hand.
It was from his son, Levi.
After many years of silence between the two, Levi had recently rekindled the relationship. Paul, careful of the fragile line between them, treasured the connection, thinking it had been lost forever.
With shaking hands, he opened the note.
Hello, Paul.
I have so many things to say to you, but that can wait. I have the book.
Paul dropped the letter. He closed his eyes, allowing tears to fall, and gave thanks to the Almighty. His smile quivered as he began to read.
I am sorry for keeping it a secret from you over the years, but I had my reasons. I remember what you told me — about the book containing secrets. Well, I have been searching for quite some time, attempting to unlock them. Did you know that there are different levels of soul tapping? In my research, I feel that we have only scratched the surface of understanding it. But we can discuss that at another time. I feel that I am close to locating the Garden of Stones. All this time, I thought it to be a myth, but I am now convinced that it is real. I am so close...
You asked about Arkin. He is a great young man. He has your attitude, God help us, and his mother's eyes. I know it's been eighteen years since you last saw him as a baby and for that I am sorry as well. But we both know what happened. And we live with the choices we make.
Sarie would be so proud of her son. I miss her every day. Maybe someday soon, Arkin and I will come for a visit.
Your son, Levi
Paul pressed the letter to his chest before carefully storing it away. He sat for a time, pondering Levi's words. Staring at a candle, he felt a chill and walked to warm himself by the fire. He threw a piece of wood on as a knock came at the door.
"Come in, Torin." Paul said.
A tall man, broad as the doorway, entered the room. "How'd you know it was me?"
"I sent for you this morning, no more than an hour ago. Sometimes a man can predict the future and have no need of the Sight," Paul said, smiling.
Torin eyed the littered desk and melted candles. "You haven't slept. And judging by the hour of your summons, I'd say that you have a
task for me," he said, walking into the room.
"I should be calling you Prophet," Paul said and slapped him on the back. "Come and sit. As you know, the Order is very particular about who they recruit. We have people in every school and guild in the land." Paul sat as well, easing back into his chair. "Only the best and brightest are invited to join us here at the Grand Highlands."
"And they must go through the Rituals and Trials to see if they make the cut," Torin said in a flat tone.
"Yes, as you well know," Paul grinned behind his gray beard.
The Prophet took a letter from the drawer and began to write.
"There is a young woman named Lyla,” the Prophet said. “She lives in Fortuna. This letter gives the details on her whereabouts. It authenticates her recruitment as well." Paul placed the letter in an envelope and closed it with his wax seal. "Given that spring is almost here, you should be able to make good time."
"Now that the pass is clear, I should make Fortuna in three days," Torin said. "Granted, a hard three day’s ride, but I'm eager to get back on the road."
Paul cocked an eyebrow. "You are aware of the unrest in the kingdom, I presume? There could be trouble on the road."
"Yes. News travels to this part of the world from time to time,” Torin noted with a hint of irony and leaned forward. "Word is that the Dark Society is on the move."
Paul nodded. "This is true. I believe they have been scouring the earth in search of soul stones." The Prophet paused for a moment. "God help us if they've found any."
Torin noticed Paul growing more distant as the seasons passed and worried about him more often than he would like.
The fire popped and hissed, drawing the Prophet's gaze.
"The kingdom is plunging towards upheaval," Paul said, gathering himself. "People in Kingsport are barely making ends meet due to King George’s taxes. Needless to say the Church and their new Religion are a factor in these troubled times as well."
"High Priest John and the Clergy must be mad to think they can convert everyone in the world," Torin said. "The people will never renounce their faith of old."
"You would be surprised at what people will do when they are backed into a corner," Paul said. "King George and his appointed government officials control the food. They oversee and regulate the farmers from seed to meat." Paul rubbed his head, soothing an ache. "And they control the currency, so in order to make the people do as they say, all they have to do is squeeze. It's just a matter of time before they get what they want."
