Changing of the Glads

by Joy Spraycar

  Zalphia opened the closet door, and her breath caught in her throat. A garment the most brilliant shade of red and gathered at the waist with a golden, silk cord hung from a hook on the door. Zalphia held it against her. It reminded her of the garment Max fashioned from skins, but this was longer. Must be a dress like Platy wore. It looked as if it would fit. On the floor sat a pair of gold sandals and a golden net to match. Zalphia saw Clubbers wearing similar nets with their hair wound inside.

  This couldn’t be right. A Glad would never wear such fine clothing. This sort of attire was reserved for important officials and the very wealthy.

  “Yes, that’s for you.”

  She jumped and again wondered about the physician.

  “Just put it on. I’ll explain about that also.”

  It only took a few moments to slip the dress over her head. The silky material fluttered like a soft morning breeze against Zalphia’s skin. The hem reached her calves and flowed like water as she turned. She ran her fingers through her hair a few times then slid her feet into the golden sandals. Holding the glittering net in her hands, she stepped from behind the curtain.

  “Very nice,” the physician said. “Here, let me help you with that.” He took the net from her hand and twisted her hair into a ball. Slipping the glittering hairpiece over her bun, he attached the clips to the side of her head. “There. Perfect.”

  “Why am I dressed like this? I could be executed for impersonating a Clubber.”

  The physician laughed. “That dress could never hide the fact that you’re a Glad.”

  Zalphia smoothed the red fabric at the front of the dress. “Maybe not, but I don’t need more trouble.”

  “Not to worry. I’ll be by your side. Anyway, it’s not like you aren’t known far and wide.”

  “What?”

  “You’re No Mercy Zalph, one of the most celebrated Glads of all time. I don’t know anyone that wouldn’t recognize you on sight. You and Maximillion, that is.”

  “Max? You know Max?”

  “I know who he is, just as I know who you are. And you should know who I am, and who Vitus is.”

  “Vitus?”

  His brow furrowed. “But you have no idea what I’m talking about, do you?”

  “No. Who are you?”

  Disappointment pulled the corners of his mouth down and his eyes clouded with moisture. He turned his head to the side for a moment. Then he met her gaze again.

  “Mother.” He laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Don’t you recognize me? I’m your son, Karaticus.”

  He did remind her of Max, and there were so many similarities between her own image and his. Fear, joy, and trepidation all clutched at her chest. Could it be true? Max said that their children had been sent here. But, shouldn’t she feel a connection like she did with Max. She studied the cloudy eyes and the hopeful face. But she didn’t recognize him. Didn’t feel anything.

  “No. I’ve never seen you before.”

  Karaticus tipped his head to one side. Her heart skipped a beat as a memory flashed across her mind. A boy – her little boy – with that same tousle of dirty-blonde hair, those gray eyes, and slight tip of the head.

  A door inside her mind swung open, and more of her life on Selestia came into view. She remembered a moment, a flash of her family with Max. Her two sons. Their two sons. But this man standing before her was not a boy. How could he be her little son? He was older than she remembered, and her wonderful boy would never fall to the evil that had overtaken this planet. He would fight until his dying breath. No, Karaticus would never be on the side she and Max were sent to destroy.

  “I know. It is strange to see me, your youngest son as a man almost twice your age. It’s odd for me, too.”

  Zalphia shook her head, clearing the memory and again examining the physician before her. “If you are my son... and I’m not saying that I believe you... why would you work for the Empire? They are the ones responsible for sending this planet down the wrong path. Max said our sons came to turn things around, not become a part of the problem.”

  Karaticus raised an eyebrow. “I see. You do know something of what was to be.” He glanced around the room. “Well, come. We can’t keep the Emperor waiting. He gets ever so cross.”

  He held his hand out and led her through the door. Only the captain of the guard remained.

  “Follow me,” Karaticus said to Zalphia as the captain grabbed her by the arm. “I’ll be taking this prisoner to the palace. I will also need her trainer. However, load a cage onto my shuttle in the cargo hold. Her trainer won’t be able to cause trouble from a cell. The Emperor has plans for this Glad.”

  “It will be done,” the captain said.

  In a matter of minutes, they climbed to the top of the Arena Board building where a garden complete with shrubs, trees, and flowers grew. In the midst of them sat a silvery ship, resembling the one Zalphia rode on to cross the ocean. However, this ship sported no sails and gleamed like a polished sword in the sunlight.

  “What is that?” she asked. “How are we going to get to the palace when your ship sits on dry ground?”

  Karaticus laughed. “This ship sails through the air, not on the water.”

  Zalphia shook her head. She truly had no inkling of what existed outside the Glad arena.

  “How many of these ships are there?” she asked.

  “There are only two, the Emperor’s and mine.”

  “Really? Why?”

  “We are of the Selestial Sphere. We came to this world in a ship such as this. Then Vitus had another built just like it. However, the metal on this planet would never withstand the sort of travel the original ship did, but it does get around this world easily enough. Only Vitus has the ability to fly them.”

  As they approached the massive ship, a strip of the hull appeared to melt from the side, sliding down and forming a gangplank on which to enter. The captain of the guard let go of Zalphia, and all three walked single file up the ramp. Once through the door, Karaticus let Zalphia pass but barred the door with his arm, preventing the captain from entering.

  “That will be all,” Karaticus said.

  The captain opened his mouth to protest then shut it again when Karaticus glared at him.

  “We no longer require your services,” Karaticus nodded toward the roof. “Go make sure the trainer has been loaded.”

  “Very well,” the captain said, retreating down the ramp and disappearing behind the ship.

  The plank rose and blended seamlessly into the side. Running a finger along the metal, Zalphia looked for a crack revealing where it had once been, but she found none.

  “I know. Seems like magic, but it is knowledge far above what the humans on this planet have. Something you should possess, too.”

  Zalphia shook her head. “I don’t. Max showed me some of what we had on Selestia, and I’ve remembered flashes, but that’s all.”

  “Interesting. How exactly did you know about coming to change the ways of mankind?”

  “Max told me bits and pieces in the short time we were together.”

  “I see. I can’t imagine why you don’t have some memories. Father clearly remembers Selestia, and he knows what needs to be done. But you, you have no idea. I feel your confusion.”

  What? Feel her confusion? How could that be when Max told her a couple nights before that he was unable to find her mind?

  “It is because of my mind being combined with Vitus. It gives me more strength to reach you. I’m sure the chips prevented Father from finding you.” Karaticus waved to a couch. “Please, sit.”

  She complied. The material covering the seat reminded her of a lion’s fur. She felt one once as it lay dead in the arena where she waited for her next opponent.

  “It’s called crushed velvet. Nice, isn’t it? Vitus loves such finery. Nothing but the best for him.”

  “And what about you,” she asked, still curious why they were hailed as the rulers of the land but failed to change things.

&
nbsp; Karaticus hung his head. “I know. We were supposed to turn things around, but Vitus found he could be something more here. A ruler. A god, if you will. And he has done everything he can to keep things that way.”

  Zalphia crossed her arms. “And you helped him?”

  “No. Yes. ” Sorrow flickered across his eyes. “You don’t understand.”

  “You’re right. I don’t understand. Why didn’t you change things, the way you were supposed to? Why would you make them worse than they already were?”

  Karaticus slumped onto a chair across the way. “There was great suffering and a devastating war being fought when we arrived.”

  “And?”

  “We put an end to that, just as we were meant to. But then people began to worship Vitus. He let them believe he was all-powerful. That he alone changed things. They begged him to be their leader. He could have set up a government that would have led this people in the way they were meant to go. But instead, the praise went to his head.”

  Zalphia leaned closer. “But couldn’t you reason with him? Remind him of your mission?”

  “I tried. Selestia knows, I tried.” Karaticus ran a hand through his hair. “But he ignored me and set up Empire City. They crowned him Emperor, and now he rules this world.”

  “How could you let him do that?” Zalphia searched his face. “Surely you could have done something to stop him.”

  “I tried to talk to him, but he only got angry with me. And then...” Karaticus glanced at her.

  “Then what?”

  “Vitus instituted the Glad matches. Everyone who sympathized with me was slaughtered. Using the games as his sword, Vitus squelched all opposition.”

  “All but you,” Zalphia said.

  “Yes, all but me. He still needs me.”

  “But can’t you stop him?”

  His shoulders sagged. “I tried, but failed. And now you are about to be submitted to the horror that is my brother. And for that, I’m truly sorry, Mother.”

  CHAPTER 17

  A spire rose above the tops of the buildings, guiding Max’s path. The cathedral was two streets over, just as Zebrone had said. Large wooden double doors stood open, and at the top of the stairs leading to them, a priest waved to those on the street.

  “Come and worship,” he called.

  An Empire guard grumbled and turned the other way, but the majority of those on the street simply ignored the call. Max hesitated at the foot of the stairs and glanced down at his uniform. Would he be able to convince the priest to show him a hidden prophecy when he appeared as one of the Empire’s loyal servants? But if he revealed who he was, he might end up in the dungeon beside Zalphia. Then how would he save her?

  The priest motioned him forward. “My son, come. Enter and worship. All are welcome here.”

  “Hello, Father,” Max said as he climbed the stairs.

  “Hello, my son. Please, enter. Worship.”

  Max hesitated just shy of the doors. “I have some questions. Is there someplace I may speak to you in private?”

  The priest shuffled his feet. “What do you wish to talk about?

  “I would rather discuss this inside.” Max glanced at the crowded street. “Where we will not be interrupted.”

  The man’s brow creased. “Have I done something to displease the Emperor?”

  “No, nothing such as that. I have just come from the arena where a crowd has gathered. They speak of a prophecy. Do you know of such a thing?”

  The priest’s face paled, and then he seemed to regain his composure. “I don’t know which prophecy they are referring to. There are many in the good book. Do you wish to read?”

  Max’s eyes narrowed. “I have read the book you speak of. However this prophecy is different. I sincerely believe this one is not in the book.” The Emperor would have made sure of that.

  “All prophecies are in the book, my son. Come, I will show you where you may read.” He motioned for Max to follow him and entered the church.

  Max stepped inside then paused. The interior of this cathedral was very different than the little one-room church he had attended with his father back home. Rays of sunlight streamed through the stained-glass windows, lighting the aisle flanked with rows of ornately carved benches. Three or four people per side sat with heads bowed. Max wondered if they prayed to the large golden statue sitting in the alcove at the front of the church or if they actually knew of the one true God. He shook his head, clearing the thought away.

  The priest beckoned to him from the altar sitting at the foot of the idol. Murals covered the walls. To the left, he saw paintings depicting the first man and woman placed on this earth. As Max’s eyes traveled along the walls, the history of this planet played out in picture form. Near the far right corner, he saw the Great War and a Selestial ship bearing two men.

  “Karaticus and Vitus,” he murmured under his breath. As he wandered slowly up the aisle, rainbows of light danced across his shoulders. He paused in front of the golden man. He’d recognize those features anywhere.

  The priest nodded to a stand that held a large book just to the right of the altar. “Here you may read about all that has gone before, prophecies recorded from all the ages, and how the great Emperor came and saved us from destruction.”

  Max studied the priest, who now refused to meet his gaze. “Are you Father Michael?”

  No,” a voice rang out from the archway off to Max’s left. “That is Father Gabriel. I am Father Michael.”

  A bald man, round as a ball and smiling, waddled over to them. He barely reached Max’s waist, but that didn’t deter him from slapping Max on the lower back.

  “It’s nice of you to join us, Armor. Don’t worry, Father Gabriel, I’ll take care of this one.”

  The priest Max had been speaking with nodded to them and hurried back toward the open doors.

  “Well then, what can I do for you, sir,” the small priest said, beaming up at Max.

  He reached out and grabbed the man’s hand, turned it over, and dropped the tarnished ring into his palm.

  “Ah.” The priest narrowed his eyes. “I see.”

  “Someone gave that to me. Told me to come and ask for you. He said you would enlighten me about a certain prophecy.”

  The priest glanced around then nodded at Max and whispered, “Well, we best discuss this in my office.” He smiled and slipped the ring into the pocket of his black robe. “I hope Father Gabriel was showing you all you’d come to see,” he said much louder.

  “He was. I have never been in a church such as this.”

  “I should think not. There are only four of these old cathedrals left. Most were destroyed during the Great War. Fortunately, ours survived, but it is the only one on this continent.” He led Max through the arch and down the hallway, then opened a door, and motioned for him to enter.

  Gasping at the opulence, Max took in the room. A large mahogany desk monopolized one side while two floor-to-ceiling bookcases graced the walls on the left and the right. A stained-glass window opposite the door shed colored lights across a tan carpet. One large overstuffed red chair sat just inside the door, and a wing-backed leather seat nestled behind the desk.

  Max stood in front of the red velvet of the chair while Father Michael gently closed the door, locked it, and settled in his place behind the desk.

  Seeing such a short man behind the imposing breadth of the desk was almost comical, like a three-year-old at the dinner table without a booster to sit on. Anyone sitting opposite him would have difficulty seeing more than the top of the priest’s bald head.

  Father Michael took the ring from his pocket and deposited it in the top drawer of his desk. “So then, my friend, tell me how an Armor from the arena comes to have the ring of a believer?”

  “A what?”

  “That ring belongs to someone who believes in the one true God. So again I ask, how do you come to have such a ring?”

  Max fell into the chair. “Zebrone gave it to me.”

  Fa
ther Michael’s brow furrowed. “He would never part with it. Not for all the riches someone, such as yourself, might offer.”

  “He gave it to me of his own free will. I seek to know of The Prophecy.”

  “There are many. As Father Gabriel was saying, a whole book of prophecies sits on a stand beside the altar. You may read all you want while here at the cathedral. But that still doesn’t explain to me why Zebrone would part with his ring.”

  “He and others from town are gathered at the arena. They whisper of this prophecy being fulfilled. It was plain to me that he spoke of a specific prophecy, not one of the many you mention in this book.”

  Father Michael leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest, resting them on the ledge formed by his rounded belly. “I see. Did they tell you what prophecy they were referring to?”

  Max rolled his eyes. “Of course not, that is the reason I am here. Zebrone imparted his ring to me. He instructed me to come to this cathedral, ask for Father Michael, and present the ring. Then I was to ask about The Prophecy, simple as that.”

  Laughing, Father Michael rose from his chair and stepped from behind the desk. “Zebrone must be confused. He knows very well that prophecy was fulfilled by the Emperor.”

  “Really? How so?”

  “He came direct from Selestia, stopped the Great War, and instituted the peace we now enjoy. As an Armor of the Empire, you already know all this. Zebrone worships Vitus, the one true God, just as everyone does here in this cathedral.” He smiled and leaned against the corner of his desk. “So you see there is nothing new for you to learn here. I’m sure while training in the Armors camp, everything was explained to you.”

  Max smiled. “I know you are not telling me the truth. Zebrone hinted that The Prophecy has yet to be fulfilled. So I ask you again. Where is it? I desire to read it for myself.”

  Father Michael paled just as Gabriel had outside. “I have no idea what prophecy Zebrone speaks of. You see, the good book is full of them, and how could I possibly know which one he is referring to?”