Rebecca Newton and the Sacred Flame

by Mario Routi

  “So how does that work?” asked Bill. “Surely you need to be able to trade in order to live.”

  “Look!” Bull said, lightly touching one of the walls, which immediately transformed into a video screen. The young Orizons watched as an image of Utopia’s Fortress in the Land of the White Sun appeared. As the camera moved in, they could see Orizon citizens going about their daily lives in apparent harmony.

  “Nature provides all the things we need to live,” Bull said. “If we need something that we cannot obtain by ourselves, we ask for help from others. It is always freely given. That is the key - anyone who can help others will do so voluntarily and gladly.”

  The screen showed an Orizon woman happily picking fruit from a tree and putting it into a basket. When she found she couldn’t reach the higher branches, a tall Orizon man stopped and stretched up above her, picking the fruit that was out of her reach. They were smiling, talking and laughing as they worked side by side.

  “There’s no obligation,” Bull went on. “If I give you something, you don’t have to give me anything in return, but you will be equally happy to help me when I next need it, or to help someone else. The only luxuries we possess are intellectual ones. We love books, art, music, theatre, sports, conversation and companionship, but these things can be created without money.”

  The scene on the screen changed to the interior of a Museum housed in a beautiful classical hall. People could be seen reading and conversing everywhere. Some strolled around admiring the art while others sat in groups.

  “My father told me,” Rebecca piped up without taking her eyes off the screen, “that there are wars in the Land of the White Sun.”

  “Sadly, wars do occur every few years,” Bull agreed. “Many years ago the Orizons and the mythical creatures quarrelled. For this reason, the Gods divided the inhabitants into two camps: those who believe in Good and are willing to struggle to ensure that it prevails and those who oppose it. Look - ”

  Rebecca watched a scene where Orizons mingled with Amazons and Centaurs, while the mythical winged horse Pegasus soared overhead.

  “The Gods entrusted the Flame of the White Sun to the powers of Good and we live in an area called Utopia. The others have left. They live in a part of the Land they call Beast.”

  An image appeared of a gigantic Sphinx gazing out over Utopia from the summit of a hill. Next to it was a raised crystal plate, bearing a beautiful blue flame. The Sphinx had lion’s paws, tipped with powerful-looking claws. It was twice the size of a full-grown elephant, with dragon’s wings stretching out behind it as if to enjoy the flickering warmth of the flame.

  “Wow! That is amazing!” Samantha said, voicing what all of them were thinking.

  “That’s Glory, the Sphinx who guards the Flame. She belongs to the camp of Good - as do the Orizons, along with some of the mythical creatures such as the Amazons, the Centaurs, and the winged horse, Pegasus.”

  A tall, handsome man appeared on the screen, standing regally beside Princess Felicia amongst a crowd of Orizons.

  “That is Leiko, our Princess’ fiancé,” Bull said. “He’s the offspring of the demigod, Hercules.”

  The screen changed. The light there was different, flatter somehow. The landscape was stark, less fruitful and uglier. Sharkans and Porth worked the land with their heads bowed in joyless toil, while another Sphinx flew overhead, glowering angrily down at the scene below. Cyclops were practicing their fighting skills, grunting aggressively as they strained to defeat one another.

  “This is the Kingdom of Beast,” Bull said and Rebecca gave an involuntary shudder. “Those who chose Beast are called Sharkans. The mythical creatures that joined them are the Porth, the Cyclopes, and the Sphinx Calphie, who you can see flying overhead.”

  The scene darkened even more as they entered a forest and it took Rebecca a moment to adjust her eyes before she was able to discern the shapes of two hideous heads in the shadows. Snakes twisted and hissed where hair should have been.

  “There are also these two Gorgons who live in the forest. But they take no sides.”

  “Do you have rulers in the Land of the White Sun, like on Earth?” Samantha asked and Rebecca noticed how her aqua eyes sparkled as she talked.

  Bull changed the screen and pointed towards a tall, well-built man. He had grey eyes, long grey hair and a short grey beard. Despite this, he appeared ageless and infinitely dignified as he walked with Princess Felicia through an Orizon market where citizens interrupted the business of exchanging goods to greet and talk to him.

  “Lord Life governs the powers of Good. He is a wise and humble man whose instinct for pure good helps him make the right decisions. When his daughter, Princess Felicia, grew up, he put her in charge of the army. She reflects many of her father’s qualities and skills.”

  “What about the camp of Evil?” asked Samantha.

  Bull’s face darkened and he gestured to the screen. Turgoth’s face slowly filled the wall and Rebecca felt a strange stirring of disquiet deep inside her, as if his eyes were boring directly into her, reading her mind.

  “The powers of Evil are controlled by King Turgoth,” Bull said. “He’s a skilled leader and has a dark talent for strategy. His aim is to seize the Flame of the White Sun.”

  6

  Present time

  “Never!” Rebecca repeated, bravely returning Turgoth’s stare as he toyed again with his stiletto. “You may as well just kill me now, because I’ll never betray Utopia.”

  “Things aren’t as simple as you think,” he said, his strong fingers absent-mindedly fondling the hilt of the knife. “You can listen to me - or...” In one sudden, smooth movement he was beside her, so close she could feel his breath on her cheek, holding the hilt out to her. “...kill me now instead, and end my eternal torture!”

  Rebecca was shocked to see the sadness in his eyes and could think of nothing to say. She did not look down at the knife and the two of them remained for several seconds with their eyes locked.

  “So,” Turgoth finally broke the silence and straightened up. “You don’t want to kill me, huh? Well, you’ll need to listen to me then. And if you still think I’m wrong, perhaps you will change your mind later and decide to kill me. I promise that you’ll get your chance.”

  He threw the blade down so that the tip entered the arm of her chair, quivering beside her. He sank back into his chair and stared at her, waiting for her to reply.

  “I’m listening,” she said. “But you won’t change my mind!”

  “Wait and see. First, I need you to believe that all my efforts are directed towards gaining the same rights for my people as those the Orizons already have. The Gods granted the Flame only to the Orizons. Only Orizons have had the good health and the moral strength of character bestowed by the Flame. Do you think that’s fair, Rebecca?”

  She stared at him and said nothing, waiting for him to continue.

  “The fight to capture the Flame and thereby secure those privileges is all that sustains us!”

  “Why then,” she asked, “if these things mean so much, did you choose to go to Beast in the first place?”

  “The fundamental value of life is that you should have the right to be who you are or to strive for what you’d like to be. But I never believed that such an enormous injustice would be perpetrated and that whoever chose to go to Beast would lose the right to make use of the Flame. Never!”

  “So you’re saying that you wouldn’t have chosen Beast if you had understood the consequences?”

  “I’ve always been a rebellious creature,” Turgoth replied, “ever since I was small. The procedure I always follow is to think, to believe, to choose, to express, and to try constantly to find practical applications - all without lying in wait for opportunities. I didn’t take the paths others had trodden. I never stepped in anyone else’s footprints. I blaz
ed my own trail and carved out rough roads through thickets, rocks and cliffs. I swam through raging rivers, straining against the current like a salmon. I was always alert, taking care to avoid stumbling or being ambushed or falling into traps. From time to time I’d rest and look back to see how far I’d come, what mistakes I’d made, and what I’d been through to get there. I’d see how I’d marked my route, what I’d dropped along the way, what I’d forgotten and lost, what I’d gained and what remained in my bag. I totted things up and made a review. Then I would draw a few deep breaths and continue my lonely journey towards the inaccessible peaks. I never went back to correct my mistakes. I told myself, ‘What’s done is done. Just keep on going and don’t make the same mistake again.’ In this way I learned from my missteps and misadventures.

  “I used to go off by myself, climbing into a thickly leaved tree which stood on the shore of my favourite lake. I would sit in the branches and chat with the birds. We noticed the tree’s twin brother planted upside down in the water and were enchanted by its colours and the way it rippled whenever the lake quivered under the kisses of the wind. I used to tell the birds that I was going to search among the dense foliage for fish and make them my comrades; that I would learn their language so that I could talk with them too. Then I would dive in. But the moment I dove, the tree disappeared.

  “I preferred listening to monotonous cicadas rather than to the varied, heady, melodious song of the nightingale. Of course, I listened to the nightingale too, but I was a true devotee of the cicada. I was a fan of the elephant that slept while standing, without relaxing, and I preferred the wild, stormy sea, perhaps because it matched the turmoil within my soul. I rejected the cream and chose scraps. I always took the back seat.

  “I believed that if I ever had to face the hangman, I wouldn’t let him put the rope round my neck. I’d do it myself to humiliate him and those he represents. Of course, the real point is not to end up on the gallows in the first place and, if you do, the outcome is the same no matter who puts the noose around your neck. But such gestures make a big difference to your honour, your dignity and your history.

  “So when the division began and most people wanted to stay in Utopia in order to side with the forces of Good, I took the other road and chose Beast. But I’ve never conceded, in my heart of hearts, that I’m evil or some kind of savage. I am no worse than those who chose to stay.

  “I’m a scribe and an artist by nature and only a warrior and King by default. I was elected after the first King was killed in one of the brutal early wars. It came about because I had been so loyal, so ‘good’ at the ‘art’ of killing, and because I was a favourite of the old King. But most of all it was because I was the only immortal Sharkan left. The burden was thrust upon me.”

  When he eventually fell silent, Rebecca sat for a moment, not taking her eyes off of his sad face, weighing his words before speaking. “But you could’ve talked with the Gods about your conflict,” she said eventually. “Why didn’t you?”

  Turgoth jumped forward, spitting venom like a striking cobra.

  “The Gods? Let me tell you about my meeting with the Gods! Oh, I’ve seen them alright. Once, while they were eating dainty morsels and drinking ambrosia, I spoke up and challenged them: ‘Why did you make so many mistakes when creating life on Earth?’ They were amazed at my insolence. They almost choked! ‘Explain yourself!’ they screamed.”

  Turgoth stood and paced around Rebecca. As he paused behind her she could feel his presence towering above her. She could almost hear the beating of his heart but she did not turn; she merely waited, forcing her muscles to stop trembling.

  “Go on,” she said quietly.

  “I was so fired up that I was completely undaunted by them. I asked, ‘What is the use of poisonous snakes, scorpions, mosquitoes, fleas and filthy flies? What use are stormy seas that drown fishermen? Why are people born with lifelong disabilities? Why do death-dealing epidemics and diseases plague millions? Why are humans punished with earthquakes, floods, and violent volcanoes? And why, in order to survive, must one living creature find a way to tear another apart, so that life can only continue through death?’”

  “And how did they react?”

  He smiled at the memory. “They looked like a pack of wild dogs plucking up the courage to rip me apart.”

  Rebecca could picture the scene that must have followed as the furious Gods attacked the lonely figure who had dared to challenge them and, for a moment, Turgoth seemed heroic.

  “You should have heard the bile that spewed from them, Rebecca. They forbade me to visit again without special permission. But I didn’t care. As soon as I’d said what I had to say, I felt lighter and at peace, like someone who unburdens himself of a weight that has been crushing him for years.”

  His anger seemed to have been spent on the telling of his story. He stood in front of Rebecca and looked down at her calmly.

  “I haven’t the slightest interest in seeing the Gods ever again. But for the good of Beast I curb my temper. I don’t want them to disinherit my people because of me.”

  Rebecca’s expression had softened as she tilted her face and looked quizzically up at Turgoth, seeing the mixture of pain and exhaustion which seemed to have overcome him. There was something so familiar about him, as if he were a hero come to life from one of her favourite novels - someone she had studied in the past.

  “And now?” she asked quietly.

  He shrugged. “Whenever I do get permission to visit them, I’m polite. I stress the inhumanity of our fighting over the Flame. But they seem to be deaf to my people’s plight. They just stare silently at me with their bulging eyes, like humourless schoolteachers staring at an insolent child. They make me stand in front of them at attention, as if I were listening to the National Anthem. It’s hopeless. I cannot bargain with them.”

  “But it has been so long...”

  “Even after thousands of years I haven’t learned how to hide my true feelings. So, however valid my quest might be, the result is always the same: Zero!”

  “They say nothing?” she asked, leaning forward but resisting the temptation to stretch out a comforting hand.

  “They only give the sort of advice one might give to a child. Nothing of use to a man. I live in a lonely place, Rebecca.”

  There was a moment of silence between them.

  “I heard you were married once,” she said, feeling herself blush even as she spoke. “Why not again?”

  “I loved my wife,” he replied, the words catching in his throat. After she was killed in the Lomani I vowed I would never marry again.”

  He appeared to become lost in thought, staring into the distance, and Rebecca waited for him to continue.

  “However, my true love,” he said eventually in a voice so small she had to lean closer to catch his words, “my soulmate, lived thousands of years ago. Her name was Haruma.”

  “What happened?” she asked, taking a sip of water without even noticing.

  “It was before I was made immortal, before the destruction, before the wars. At the hopeful start of my life.”

  He raised his eyes and stared directly into hers as if looking through a window back across the millennia. Neither of them spoke, neither of them wanting to break the spell that hung in the air between them.

  7

  One month before present time

  “War is bad,” Bill said, his bright young face clouding over at the thought. “I remember my father going off to fight in the Middle East when I was young.”

  Bull tilted his head sympathetically. “Guys, please know this: In Utopia we do all we can to prevent war. Other than Beast, the Land of the White Sun is a Paradise. There is no crime, for instance. But there are some basic rules that are obeyed by all, even by the powers of Evil.”

  “Really?” Rebecca said. “Please, tell us what those are.”


  “Of course! Listen well. Utopia never initiates Lomani. The powers of Evil always start it, but they always warn us in advance. Neither side takes prisoners or attacks unfairly or treacherously.”

  “Okay! And what about...” Samantha started.

  Bull raised his hand and smiled, cutting her off as he stood up to his full seven feet.

  “I’m sure you’ve got many more questions, but we’re currently landing on auto pilot. You’ll all have plenty of opportunities to ask me more later and to get to know each other.”

  “What? We’re here? Already?” several young Orizons asked in one voice.

  “But we’ve only just left!” Samantha protested.

  “How can that be?” Rebecca asked.

  Bull’s chuckle was a warm, merry sound. “Think of it this way - it’s like surfing TV channels! Each channel makes up a different spatial dimension. This ship is like a TV tuner that has been re-tuned from Earth to The Land Of The White Sun. We didn’t travel through space, we simply changed dimension.”

  He touched a sensor panel on his control deck and the front wall of the ship became transparent.

  “We’ve landed at our Cosmodrome! Welcome to your homeland!”

  8

  Bull descended the crystal steps first, followed by the wide-eyed newcomers.

  Rebecca felt strange. It wasn’t just that she was entering a new land, it was actually a different world. The mixture of unease, yearning, anxiety and impatience confused her, yet created within her an intense sense of mystery and expectation. She looked around as she descended the steps, trying to drink in every last detail. The spaceship had landed on a huge expanse of cropped grass, much like a football pitch on Earth. There were a couple of similar ships parked nearby, as well as a huge waiting carriage with a dozen snow-white horses champing at the bit and pawing the ground.