by W. M. Martin
The galaxies on display in the expanse were breathtaking. Maggie took a step forward and swallowed hard. She was in awe of the beauty which she was surrounded by. She was completely unaware of the multitude of teenagers all around her, there for the same reason, who were equally dumbfounded by the majesty of the chamber that they wholly occupied simultaneously. There stood in a great series of balconies, which circumnavigated the areas flanking the great bejeweled doors and made their way around the entire Macrocosm Chamber, many people whom Maggie deduced were Kindred instructors. Also, many young adults pocked the balconies. They were teens from the previous cycle who were now a year older and a year further into their training.
Maggie finally looked away from the grandeur of the universe above and straight ahead of her in the middle of the room stood a faintly glowing obelisk that stood over one hundred feet tall and forty feet wide.
“My fellow Kindred,” came a familiar voice. “On behalf of the Head Instructor and the standing members of each of the Five Clans of the Kindred Academy, I welcome you all. Today is the fifth day of August, and as such, every year in the Veil or every other year on Earth, on this day, several boys and girls who have at least one Kindred parent are summoned here to attempt the Appointment of Clans and the subsequent trials. Allow me to wish us all a happy birthday. I have been given the special honor of officiating this year’s ceremony by the academy’s Head Instructor, Mr. Cornelius Evans. Now then, if everyone would please gather here towards the front of the Spire. It is time for the Appointment of Clans to begin!”
Maggie gazed just beyond the Spire to see the figure who had made the announcement, she was adorned in a black cloak with elegant blue trim that seemed to almost glow. As the cloak’s hood was lowered, the familiar physiognomy revealed belonged to none other than Nancy Decker. In that very moment it dawned on Maggie, as she remembered Edgar explaining, that only Kindred could enter Thieves, but it had simply not registered that her kind benefactor, Nancy Decker, could be a Kindred.
“Nancy!” called Maggie.
Nancy simply looked in Maggie’s direction and smiled.
“Please, everyone be patient and the selection process shall begin momentarily,” stated Nancy before sustaining, “If you are chosen by the Spire and it assigns you a totem, then you will be collected by your Clan mentor after entering your Clans’ vestibule which shall light up upon your acceptance. Next you shall be taken to your respective enclaves. If, however, you are not found suitable to become a Guardian then you shall be shifted immediately through the Veil and all recollections of this process shall be erased from your memories, and you will live out your lives as humans.”
This was stated by Nancy so tersely that the room erupted in murmurs and hushed protests. Maggie was still in a veritable state of shock, so the news just given did not really have the same impact on her as it did to her potential peers. Nancy raised her right arm and pulled up the sleeve of the garment under her black cloak with the blue embroidery. Suddenly the lower part of her forearm started to glow and a faint swirling image began to appear.
The strange impression seemed to glide like water in a gentle stream all the way around her arm and came full circle to where it originated and now was clearly in the shape of some kind of a bird. Maggie was no ornithologist, but she was certain that the strange glowing tattoo was of a cardinal. All of a sudden the mark erupted from Nancy’s arm in a soft flash of blue light and the cardinal flew around the entire chamber, flitting about hurriedly and playfully cavorting with its captive audience.
“Siril!” called Nancy. “I told you to behave and not to play around during this ceremony! It's bad enough that you got into my blueberries last night, don't think for a moment that I've forgotten, and now you're disrupting this sacred tradition with your foolishness!”
“Fine, I get it, you're still mad about the blueberries, which incidentally you can't prove that I stole,” called the glowing bird in a slightly mocking tone.
Maggie, for what seemed like the hundredth time that night, stood frozen with her mouth agape. As hard as it was to believe even after having witnessed it, Maggie simply could not deny what was right before her. Siril, the talking cardinal, born of a blazing tattoo, flew to Nancy and gently landed on her left shoulder.
“You simply live to embarrass me, you rotten little show off,” whispered Nancy to Siril.
The little bird laughed at Nancy’s scorn and said, “You know you love me.”
“Everyone,” Nancy called to the room, “This little devil is Siril. He is my totem. We have been together since my sixteenth birthday, exactly forty-three years ago this night, when I was chosen by the Spire to be trained as a Guardian. He is a nightmare, a blueberry thief, and my best friend. He is always present but is invisible to the naked eye unless summoned. Every Guardian has a totem that is theirs and theirs alone. You cannot choose your totem, your totem will choose you. When you touch your totem for the first time you will feel the name they wish to be called. You will then proclaim the name of your totem. As you train you shall grow in power, so too will they.”
Maggie was completely transfixed. Edgar, who was still standing behind Maggie, moved out from the crowd of teenagers and made his way to the Spire. Without saying a word Edgar raised the sleeve of his brown cloak with the emerald trim and his forearm began to glow as Nancy’s did. What Maggie now knew to not be ink started to glide around Edgar's arm. This shape settled not in the form of a bird, but of an old bloodhound and it too erupted from Edgar's arm in the same amazing fashion as Siril did from Nancy’s. The dog had the same soft luminescence around it as Siril, only the aura around the dog was green instead of blue.
“Everyone, this here's Rose,” called Edgar to the crowd.
“Hey everybody!” chimed Edgar’s totem in a delicate voice that seemed way too soft for such a large dog.
Edgar looked at Rose and asked, “Rose, would you kindly help Siril get the hopefuls in line so we can begin?”
Rose looked up at Edgar and sighed, “Good grief, Eddie, Siril has only practiced this at least a dozen times in the past week. I suppose I can help him out, but Nancy’s gonna owe us a favor.”
As the two totems, Rose and Siril, began ushering the teens towards the Spire, Maggie hung back to see what would happen. The galaxies which were brimming with luminescent planets in the expanse, far above, dimmed as did the stars that were their framework. The Spire’s gentle glow began to pulsate and a vortex of radiant color swirled within the obelisk. The first candidate stepped forward toward the center of the Spire. He had shoulder length hair which was pulled back into a ponytail. He was extremely well built and had a hard fearlessness about him.
“Place your right hand inside of the light of the Spire and speak your name,” instructed Nancy.
The young man placed his hand within the maelstrom without any hesitation at all. Maggie noticed this and was impressed by the applicant’s apparent bravado. She hoped that when her time came that she would be that brave. She hoped.
The young candidate loudly growled his own name, “Jax Cooper!”
The vortex of the Spire churned furiously and within only a matter of seconds an ear shattering peal of thunder echoed through the chamber and rattled every occupant to their collective cores. Without warning, a blast of purple energy shot out of the center of the Spire’s hurricane and engulfed the hopeful in what seemed to be a steady, unceasing bolt of lightning. The discharge struck Jax full on and coursed over his entire body. Maggie gasped in absolute terror, but just as quickly calmed herself as she saw that Jax was not hurt.
In a moment of complete amazement, a beautiful horse, a mare, that was as white and regal as the clouds that the crowd seemed to be standing on, stepped out of the vortex and stood beside Jax Cooper.
“Place your right hand on your totem, Mr. Cooper,” instructed Nancy.
Jax did so dutifully.
“What is her name?” asked Nancy.
Jax closed his eyes for a moment and wit
h his hand still on the beautiful, white, equine totem, he smiled and whispered, “Clara.”
“Please speak up for everyone, Mr. Cooper,” requested Nancy.
Jax turned to the room and announced loudly, “My totem’s name is Clara!”
The newly christened totem raised up on her hind legs, gave a triumphant neigh and began to glow with a soft, green aura. She then began to shrink and morph into a strange liquid which started at Jax’s fingertips and made its way up his arm and then back down around his wrist to settle on the underside of his forearm. With a final soft pulse of viridescent light, Jax’s totem, Clara, disappeared on his skin.
Just as Jax was about to step away from the Spire, it gave a final pulse of light followed by a gentle gust of wind and a small emerald, triangular medallion floated from the massive, glowing monument. It had a slightly raised image of what appeared to be a horse set against the backdrop of a giant plateau.
“The shape of your medallion is your Clan’s shield. It features your totem and where you bonded with her. It, and your cloak’s color shall denote your Clan and the specializations in which you are best suited to train,” Nancy informed Jax and the envious crowd.
Jax was given a brown, hooded cloak without any colored trim and as he wrapped it around himself, the medallion latched onto the center as a clasp to the garb.
Nancy placed her hand on Jax’s broad shoulder and announced to all who were in attendance, “Clan Terran!”
Suddenly an opening in the wall just to Maggie’s left, which was in the center of two massive marble columns, was lit up by what looked like hundreds of comets speeding across the open vastness of what should have been a ceiling and then a corridor appeared. Jax walked confidently, with an imperious gait, toward it and entered without even turning around.
The next candidate stepped forward to place her hand on the Spire. The maelstrom in the center of the obelisk began to whip about with furious tenacity. She inserted her right hand into the storm and stated her name aloud. The vortex slowed its rotation and then it returned to its original calm, pulsing glow. The girl turned, hung her head a little and walked defeatedly toward Edgar. He raised his hand and created a shimmering oviform which Maggie now understood to be a portal between Earth and wherever she was. The failed applicant stepped through the shimmering, liquid light and she suddenly disappeared. Immediately after, with a loud crackle, so too did the omniport. Everyone in the auditorium started talking amongst themselves in very hushed, very anxious tones.
By the time that seven more people had undergone the trials, only a boy named Callum Young and a girl named Stephanie Viridi had been accepted. Each trial caused a sense of palpable anticipation in the immense room and each one attempted was as frighteningly wondrous to behold as the one before. Of the two who had been found worthy by the obviously picky Spire; Callum’s totem was an electric eel who had been given the name Ada and Stephanie’s totem was a blue butterfly that she had named Max. They were sent to the Okeaous and Secarn enclaves, respectively.
Later, after a few further acceptances and far more rejections, it had come time for Maggie to take her place in front of the Spire. She stepped forward and looked at Nancy. She gave a rather sheepish grin to the kind diner owner who had more or less taken her in.
“Nancy, is this going to hurt?” asked Maggie in a whisper.
Nancy responded softly, “No. It won’t hurt at all, Maggie. I promise. There is nothing to be frightened of. I'm right here and even if you aren't chosen, I'll still be around to help you as long as you'll allow me to.”
With that, Maggie shook her head in agreeance and walked with almost an air of defiance giving off a false sense of bravado as she moved toward the Spire. The great, radiant obelisk boomed to life and the mysterious, raging whirlwind at its core shook with a fury that almost seemed sentient. Maggie timidly raised her hand and moved it up to the surface of the monstrous storm. She closed her eyes tightly, took a deep breath and punched through the violent hurricane at her fingertips. She opened her eyes and stared headlong into the core of the Spire.
She felt a wild, unbridled power steadily overtake her body as though it were a tsunami. An untamed gale shot forth from the Spire and its immediate effect blew Maggie’s light brown hair out of her face. Her piercing blue eyes never gave way to the wind’s threat. She felt as if she would burst if she could not release the steadily growing force that had taken over her body. It felt as if her soul was being swirled in tandem with the storm that had enveloped her hand.
When Maggie opened her mouth the explosive exclamation of her name was matched only by the uncharacteristic ferocity of her countenance.
She yelled, fearlessly, angrily and honestly at the top of her lungs, “My name is Maggie Bennett!”
CHAPTER TWO
With a blinding flare and a jolt of purple fulmination that crowded her senses and flooded her body, Maggie felt something very much alive move around her hand which was being held in place by the Spire. While the surging thunderbolt coursed around and within her, Maggie was abruptly bombarded by what, to her, must have been the equivalent of the sensation of a vehicle colliding with a brick wall at high speeds. Blackness. The echoless state of being which reserves itself for dreamless sleep. A pin prick of light into the purely sable nothing gently began twinkling from immeasurably far off. The brilliance beaming forth from the distant light refraction grew steadily with each moment that passed, an eternity encapsulated within every second.
Maggie, who had somehow ended up on her back, groggily moved her head, slowly, from side to side. She had no recollection of how she had ended up in that position. She was far too dazed to move and so remained supine for some time. Maggie raised her left hand and held it steady just in front of her face and wiggled her fingers. She blinked her eyes heavily and struggled to recall what had happened prior to her waking up so as to deduce, perhaps, how she got there. Wherever there was.
Ultimately, Maggie figured it best to try and get up. With a groan of slight protest, she shifted over onto her left side and raised herself up. Once she had regained verticality and gathered her wits, Maggie looked around and endeavored to gain a bearing on where she had just awakened. Nothing. Maggie looked at her feet and found that, where nothing had been there a moment ago, she now was standing on a round patch of grass that had hues of green which were so vivid that it would bring shame to the most flawless of emeralds. The grass had an iridescent quality that almost stole Maggie’s breath. It very truly seemed to glow.
Maggie was drawn to touch the beautifully lambent turf and as she knelt down to run her hand through it she was startled to hear an odd mix of voices coming from behind her.
“Welcome, Maggie Bennett,” the strange chorus of voices intoned in unison.
Maggie turned and stood quickly to face the voices. There stood before her a lone figure in a long, white, pristine cloak. Maggie could not make out the face of the individual who had just greeted her because the hood of their cloak obstructed their visage.
“Who are you?” questioned Maggie nervously.
“We are nameless, yet all names,” replied the figure in a voice that was neither male nor female, but both.
Without raising the hood or lifting their head, the visitor continued on, “We know why you have come, Maggie Bennett, although you yourself do not. We know the questions that you have and the questions that you do not yet know you have. We have the answers that you seek and the answers which you are unaware that you require. We are all things and We are nothing.”
Maggie looked slightly incredulous and threw up her arms. The lone figure stood pale over the lambent grass under their flawless, cloud-white cloak and remained silent, waiting on Maggie’s response.
“That makes absolutely zero sense!” Maggie said in frustration.
She suddenly remembered putting her hand inside of the vortex in the center of the Spire. With that realization hitting her like a ton of bricks, Maggie persisted, “Can you at least tell me where I
am? I mean, seriously, the last thing I remember was putting my hand inside this massive, glowing thing and then I'm waking up on my back. Here. Again, please, where am I?”
The voices responded, “You are within the Nexus. The beating heart of what is known as the Spire. It is here that your totem will seek you out. It is here, in the center of all things and nothing that you will discover who and what you truly are, Maggie Bennett.”
“I know who and what I am. What I'd love to know, is at the very least, what your name is,” said Maggie while trying to hide her growing impatience.
“Name? We have no name, yet We have all names,” the figure repeated.
“Yes, I remember, you said that already. It would just make this a little easier if I could call you something. Anything,” pleaded Maggie.
“If you must call Us by a name, you may refer to Us by a name of your choosing,” the individual clad in the glorious white cloak replied.
After a moment's reflection, Maggie snapped her finger and lit up with an impish grin.
“I've got it! I'll call you Philomena! I've always liked that name. What do you think?” asked Maggie jokingly, trying to elicit a reaction.
The enigmatic stranger replied simply, “Philomena does not suit Us.”
Maggie, deciding to be a bit more serious this time, tapped her chin, thought, and said, “How about Elliot? I had a doll when I was a little girl and that was his name. I loved that silly thing.”
The figure nodded only slightly in agreement before answering, “Elliot suits Us.”
The newly christened “Elliot” made a sweeping gesture with his right hand and it was as if a curtain had been shifted away in the direction of his movement. Where only a moment ago was a lone patch of glowing grass; now in every direction, before Maggie and Elliot, stood a vista the likes of which could only ever be conveyed by the wildest of dreams. It was elegant to behold. The mountains in the distance were capped by snow that was so pristine that the sun’s rays were bouncing off of them in a blinding dance. The trees were sturdy and upright betraying no flaws in their uniform canopies. Maggie felt a cool breeze that carried the salty fragrance of the ocean to her petite nose and as she breathed deep the windswept tide, she heard the rolling thunder of crashing waves. She faced the direction where the air had blown in from and witnessed a sea that was so incredibly blue that it appeared to compete with the sky to determine which was more exemplary. Maggie had never beheld such perfection.
