by T. C. Edge
That day, however, it’s drawn from my lips by the appearance of a fresh face to the group. Although, really, fresh isn’t the best description of the grizzled visage of the man who walks in that afternoon.
Standing around the table, with Markus at the centre of the picture, the meeting has barely gotten underway when the door knocks loudly. We turn, and a soldier appears in the doorway.
“Sir, we have a late arrival,” he says.
He steps back and, in his place, the unshaven face of Drake appears, looking like he’s come directly from the hospital.
“Drake!” says Markus. “We…we weren’t expecting you.”
The reaction of the rest is immediate. As he comes in, each person lines up to greet him warmly, shaking hands and hugging him where appropriate. I look particularly on the faces of my main allies and see great joy, and relief, almost, that he’s come to re-join us.
I hug him in a manly fashion when I get my turn, before he wanders over to the side of the room, set back a little from the table.
Markus moves from the table’s head.
“I’ve been keeping it warm for you, Drake. Please…take my spot.”
Drake shakes his head. “No, Markus, you’re the Master of this city and have been doing a fine job. I’m merely here to watch for now, and catch up on things. Please, continue…”
“Of course. If that’s your wish.”
As Drake settles in towards the side of the room, surveying matters, the meeting continues. Reports are given by Generals Proctor and Trent regarding the state of affairs down in the valleys and across the regions. Jackson offers his own take on the current stalemate that continues to rage towards the Eastern coast, and notes that The Guardians of Liberty’s numbers continue to grow.
When it comes time for the Watchers to give their reports, the same things are heard as have been for the last few days: their visions continue to be scattered and clouded, much like my own.
I’m the last to give my testimony, and buoyed by the presence of Drake, and perhaps wishing to offer something positive amid the apparent lack of progress we’re making, I mention the vision of the Seeker. The others listen carefully as I describe what I’ve seen, and the usual questions of ‘where’ and ‘when’ the vision takes place follow.
Of course, I have nothing to say on that matter. Their hopeful eyes turn sour when I admit that it’s all very brief and unclear, and that it may even be that it’s little more than a fabrication in my mind, a sort of daydream that I wish to come true.
Jackson offers me a knowing look when I tell them how obsessive I’ve become about finding these Seekers, knowing where that obsession comes from.
“I guess,” I conclude, “it could just be a manifestation, and not a vision…it’s getting harder to tell these days with so much going on. My mind is cluttered and clouded.”
I notice the others nodding, all seemingly suffering from the same affliction. When Cyra speaks, however, we all listen.
“I don’t think so,” she announces. “Not if you’ve seen the same thing several times. Keep looking, Theo, and bring us something more.”
Other than my vision of the Seeker, only Cyra herself appears to have witnessed anything that we can use. Two days ago, she spoke about a town in our home region of Lignum being burnt to a crisp. Given her knowledge of the area, she was able to pinpoint where it was. Only this morning, it emerged that that attack had occurred overnight, making it clear that the Baron’s forces were still spreading out from the coast. It touches a nerve, knowing that my home region is now being dragged into the war. And while certain parts have been abandoned, others will be protected by local Guardians, set to die for their homes if they must. It pains me that we can’t be there to help protect them.
So, right there in that meeting, I bring my concerns to the table, suggesting that we’re not having the impact we should whilst hiding in this mountain.
“No one except mum can see that far,” I say. “Not with any clarity anyway. We should move and set up camp nearer to the regions, maybe around Knight’s Wall. Then we’ll be able to see everything much clearer.”
It’s obvious that this is a debate that others have had as well, both privately with themselves and between one another. Consequently, a few give the thought their support, Link and Ajax among them.
“Theo’s right,” says Link. “We are strong enough now to decamp and go out there to help. There’s no sense in staying here.”
“But there is,” says Jackson, “for now at least. As we know, the major fighting is still limited and contained around and near the coast. And other than Theo’s vision of a single Seeker, none have been sighted. The rise of The Guardians has also set the Baron onto the back foot. Other than some minor skirmishes, like what Cyra saw, the spread of the Baron’s men has been slowed. It’s obvious he’s consolidating, and we need to do the same.”
“But why?” asks Link. “If what you say is true, Jackson, and we have him on the ropes, then isn’t now the time to attack, and take the fight to him?”
“No,” comes Cyra’s voice. “If we set out like that, we show our own hand too early. The Seekers might see us coming, and band together to try to wipe us out. And if that happens, our armies will have little defence against them and the Baron’s forces.”
“And who’s to say they’ll wipe us out?” grunts Link, seemingly insulted by the suggestion. “When Athena returns, and with Drake on the mend, we’ll have the strength to defeat them.”
“Perhaps,” says Cyra, “but perhaps not. You’re yet to face them in battle, Link, not properly anyway. They’re unlike any Watcher we’ve encountered before…they’re nothing like those you hunted after the war.”
“Then what? We just wait?” asks Link.
“We wait,” says Jackson. “If you’re right, and we have the strength to defeat them, then it’ll only be with our full complement. That means waiting for Athena and Velia to return, and giving Drake enough time to fully recover. Only then do we have a chance. But right now, we sit tight.”
At the mention of Drake, my eyes swing over to him, sitting quietly in the corner and almost forgotten amid the debate. He watches proceedings calmly, soaking it all up, not bringing his own voice or opinions to the party. Not, at least, until he’s invited to do so.
“And you, Drake, what do you make of this?” asks Link.
He takes a long breath, considering things for a time. Like Link, Drake is very much a man of action, and yet doesn’t have the same hot streak. He’s measured, a fine strategist, and is always able to see the bigger picture.
“Both options are valid,” he says calmly, “but the debate is mute until, as you say, Athena and Velia return, and I fully recover. Both will take more time, and I think the prudent move right now is to stay here, and see how things play out.”
“And in the meantime, let people die?” asks Link flatly.
“Yes,” answers Drake immediately. “Such is war, Link. You know it all too well. It’s clear you’re itching for a fight, and you’ll get it sooner or later. But for now, leaving this place could prove our undoing. We cannot be reckless. Things are too finely balanced for that.”
As always, Drake’s words command total obedience, putting the debate to bed without the need for the Generals, or Markus, or anyone else to even offer an opinion.
And, right there, it’s clear to all of us that we have our President, our leader, back at the helm.
When the meeting ends, however, and I prepare to shuffle off out of the room, his voice calls from behind me.
“Theo, would you stay for a moment. I’d like a word.”
The rest leave, with only Markus remaining. Promptly, Drake also asks that he give us some privacy, which he does without hesitation despite this being part of his own chambers.
As the door shuts, I find myself alone with my grandfather, his keen eyes searching mine as he peers at me.
“What is it you want to talk about, grandfather?” I ask him.
&
nbsp; He looks at me a few moments longer, and then simply says: “You’re keeping something back, Theo. I was watching you as you spoke. There’s something you’re not telling everyone…”
My heart begins to thud. I feel as if I’ve been caught out, put on the spot. My reaction is to frown and shake my head, but Drake is wise enough to see right through that.
As I mumble a few words, telling him I don’t know what he’s talking about, he inspects me further in a manner that suggests he’s reading me like a book.
Then, suddenly, he says: “It’s about the Seeker. The one from your vision. The Seeker with the special purpose.”
Again, I continue to play dumb, but in my head all I can think of now is the boy, this pseudo brother of mine, the most powerful of our foes. He appears before my eyes again, that familiar look of my mother hidden amid the cold countenance of Augustus Knight.
And as he swamps my thoughts once more, Drake’s voice filters into the room.
“Cyra…” he whispers. “This boy…he isn’t just a clone of Knight is he? There’s a lot more to him than that…”
There’s no surprise in his eyes. Only the clear sense that he’s putting the pieces together, figuring things out for himself. The look on my face gives him what he wants; there’s no way for me to lie to him anymore.
Instead, I merely nod.
“How did you come to learn this?” he queries.
“Professor Lane. She worked it out from the file, and wrote it in a notebook. She gave it to me before she died.”
“And this special purpose is for this boy, this mixed clone?”
Again, I nod.
“Your father knows too, doesn’t he? He…he asked you not to say anything.”
I look at him, still amazed by his intuition, his ability to work things out just by peering into someone’s eyes, into their mind. I tell him ‘yes’ with a look in my eyes.
“You doubt it, Theo, but you shouldn’t. Jackson is right. No one else should know about this.”
“You agree with him?” I ask, surprised.
“Your father has a mind for these things, an ability to not let emotion cloud his judgement. If others knew, it might impact how they behave to this boy. That cannot happen, Theo…”
“I know that now,” I say. “I…I haven’t mentioned it to anyone else.”
“I know you haven’t. And I know that it’s a difficult thing to bear. But you’re strong, and there’s something at play here that might work in our favour.”
“I…I don’t understand.”
His eyes drift off, looking into the middle distance.
“This Seeker, his special purpose…perhaps it could work for us,” he says lightly, half speaking to himself.
“Grandfather,” I say, pulling his eyes back to me. “What do you mean?”
His gaze swings back around, a renewed light in his eyes, something brewing within.
“Just that you need to keep searching this vision, Theo. You need to find out where, and more importantly, when, it takes place.”
“But why?”
He fixes me with a calm stare, and lays his wrinkled and worn hands on my shoulders.
“Because sooner or later, you’re going to be standing there ahead of this boy. And when you do, you’re going to be going alone…”
8
Seeking a Seeker
That evening, as we eat dinner around the table with half the seats empty, I find my mother peering at me just as her own father did hours before.
I shield my eyes from hers, however, in a bid to keep her off the scent. Given her many years of suppressing her powers, she hasn’t quite learnt to develop the ability to read eyes and minds quite like Drake can, and to a lesser extent Link and Athena. And yet, she’s got that motherly instinct that she knows I’m hiding something.
She doesn’t ask me, however, if that’s the case. She merely questions what Drake wanted to see me about after the meeting.
“Nothing, really,” I say as casually as possible as I stir my soup. “Just about how things are going here with everyone.”
She accepts the lie without further questioning, although I suspect she knows that it’s not the truth. Still, she chooses to back away, perhaps knowing that anything she can ask me, she can ask Drake too to corroborate my story. Thankfully, we figured that this might happen before we parted, and formed the lie together.
The only others at the table are Ellie, Leeta, and Ajax. Link and Jackson, as with most nights, are off seeing to other things, while Vesuvia continues to seek the solitude of her room. Half way through the meal, Ajax departs with a tray of food for the patient, while the rest is portioned off for Jackson and Link for when they return. Drake, meanwhile, will take up residence within the Master’s chambers with Markus, provided with his own quarters off from the main war room, a place afforded to the President of Eden on official visits.
Naturally, that title is going to have to change, given that Eden is no more.
As Ajax departs, I’m left with only our mothers and Leeta, three veterans of wartime life. Leeta, despite her growing years, has a work ethic to match the best, up at dawn and not resting until the final chores in the house have been completed. She spends all day managing the city, and all night managing the house, cooking the most delicious dinners as she goes. In many ways, she’s the glue that keeps all of this together, her face rarely lacking a smile, her attitude perpetually positive.
I sit quietly for the rest of the meal as they talk as old friends do, speaking of the old days and how all of this is so familiar. When my mother was first taken to Eden, it was Leeta who accompanied her, with Ellie joining along the way. It’s so weird for me to imagine it all, my mum and Ellie as kids, Leeta twenty or so years younger, leading them both into the centre of the world where they were to become Watchers.
It didn’t take long for war to break out back then, just as it hasn’t now. Within months of leaving their homes, the two were embarking on a quest to help save the nation. Now, the exact same thing has happened to Ajax and me, the world shifting so dramatically, so quickly, that it’s barely recognisable to what it was.
It’s as if history is repeating itself, the same heroes fighting against the same, lingering evil. The world once more embroiled in a civil war that could go either way.
In the end, only time will inform us as to which. As Drake said earlier, things are finely balanced, and should we tip just a little, one way or the other, we might all go tumbling into the void forever.
I sleep alone in the room shared between Ajax and me that night.
“I’m going to stay close to Vesuvia,” he tells me. “You know, with Velia gone, someone should be there in case she needs them.”
I nod along, unsurprised by it all. And while I can understand, it disappoints me a little that his focus is so divided, his mind torn between her and his duty.
He leaves before I can raise any concerns, my own attention undeviating. Right now, I have tunnel vision, and while there are other things on my mind, I don’t let them in, don’t let them settle. I’ve learned, by now, that I’m strongest when I commit to a single thing; whether searching for a face in a vision, or doing battle with a foe, maintaining a single and total focus on my quarry is essential.
Ajax, perhaps, isn’t quite so proficient at that as I am, so easily distracted as he can be by those he cares for. We saw it on Eden, as Link lay in his coma, Ajax’s concern for his father dominating his thoughts and actions. And now, we’re seeing something similar again, Vesuvia taking up too much of his time.
It frustrates me, but in the end, I don’t think there’s much else he can do right now. Here, so far from the action, we’re being wasted. And all we can do is sit tight.
But for me, I have my orders, and I’m going to see them through. So, that night, I draw myself back into the sea of visions that swarm into my mind, seeing one horror after another as I search for what I most desire.
And within that world, the Seeker appears agai
n, and I focus ever harder. More clues appear, the world around me taking shape. I seem to be somewhere in no man’s land, not far from Knight’s Wall. The shape of the mountains dominate the distance, old relics of the wall remaining at their base. The day is growing on, evening starting to fall as the sun begins to set and the light fades. I try to make out something in the town to identify it, but there’s nothing at all, only strewn rubble and the rusted husks of cars, old remnants of battles fought years ago.
It’s all so non descript, one of a hundred possible places littered across the stretch of no man’s land behind Knight’s Wall. When I’m pulled from the vision, and I wake that morning, I know that I’ll probably never know exactly where it is.
That day, I go to see Drake to seek his advice. He listens as I describe what I saw, the two of us trying to figure it out together in secret. Recently, I appear to be keeping a lot of those; first with my dad, and now with my grandfather. I’ll be glad when all this cloak and dagger stuff is over.
Still, Drake comes to the same conclusion as me, agreeing that the town could be any and that, unless I get lucky and see an old town name or street sign, I’ll probably never know where it is.
But there’s something in his eye that suggests he’s got a plan, a twinkle there that I like the look of.
“So, what shall I do?” I ask him.
He smiles at me and says: “Look to the sky, Theo. You said it was early evening, yes?”
I nod.
“Good. Find the moon, and she’ll tell you what you need to know.”
He ends the conversation there, his time once more growing valuable as he heads to another meeting. Slightly cryptic as always, I follow his advice, heading quickly back to the house and finding a quite spot to myself.
Once more, I go through the well worn routine, and search for the face of the prime Seeker. And once more, I wade through a river of horrors before I get there, my mind getting twisted and bent by the sight of blood and fire and death. But by now, it’s little but a blur as I siphon through it all, my ability to search the future growing stronger by the day.
