by LJ Andrews
“You see Claec’s brother now, Rowan. He is the one behind him,” Nathaniel continued. “Merlin was the master of distributions on the venture. He oversaw all the resources were distributed to the distant realms for all the people." The image of Merlin bowed low to the two Cimmerian leaders. Killian could see his pleading eyes as he silently spoke to the men. He wished the serum allowed him to hear what was said. "His testimony sealed the destruction of the venture. He told the people how Rowan and Claec had altered the amount of resources, especially materials to build weapons and food, to the different realms, and how everything was sent to Cimmerian.”
Around him, Killian saw the images of the crowd huddled in the boulders of Stonehenge rise into an uproar. It seemed to be an impressive conflict, with no one knowing what to do.
“The testimony of Merlin was a great betrayal to Rowan and Claec. He was threatened and had to go into hiding from the brothers,” Nathaniel said. “The Terrene Venture was abolished after this council; Claec was overthrown.” As he finished the tale, the projected images disappeared as well as the film over his eyes from the serum.
“What happened then? How do people still live on Earth…or Terrene…or whatever?”
“Stonehenge was the gateway. As I said, the landmark is more than meets the eye. The gateway was where people from the distant realms traveled to help build the new realm, as well as passing resources back to the other three main realms. When the Venture was abandoned, the gateway sealed itself, trapping the remaining people on unfinished Terrene. These people lived and populated the realm, forming their own histories to the formation of their world. As time passed the truth blurred, since Terrene is not fully joined into the Hemisphere, knowledge of other realms faded from their memories. Limited amounts of people on Terrene truly know of the other realms existence. Earth is diverse because of the different races mixing together.”
“Killian,” Miller chimed in, “three groups evolved from the end of the venture, the Ponderi, the Deshuits, and the Trinity. You know we are the Ponderi, the creation of your ancestor. Deshuits are rebels, people who run wild throughout the Hemisphere believing no one should belong to any realm. They fight against us with extreme violence.”
“Why do they fight you?”
“They believe we rule the realms and force the different races to never be truly free, when in reality we are simply a mediation group. We help realms work through issues as well as provide the track system for resources to pass fairly to the realms. We also protect people from threats. I suppose you could name us the guardians of the realms.” Miller smiled.
“Well, if that is true, why haven’t you tried to form a truce with them and explain your reasons?” Killian asked skeptically. He didn't know these two men. For all he knew the Deshuit group could be right, maybe the Ponderi did try to rule the realms.
“We have tried for centuries. The Deshuits aren’t easy to speak with. Many Ponderi recruits have been lost to their violence. For the sake of our members now, we try to avoid them,” Nathaniel answered.
“Okay, well what about the third group?”
“Yes, the Trinity. This is why you are of immense importance my boy,” Nathaniel said. “The Trinity is a brotherhood that despises what the venture did to the realms. They feel the venture divided a people that wished to be unified, and they hate Terrene still. They are hunters of certain artifacts that will be able to once and for all destroy Terrene. Killian, they want to obliterate the entire realm. Billions of people will fall from existence if they have their way.”
“How could they even have the power to do this and what does it have to do with me?”
“Merlin has much to do with this. The Venture created unbalanced power. People had learned it was possible to create abnormal abilities like the rogue Glacien man. This created awful conflicts and power struggles. Merlin, being highly skilled in his magic, created a relic individual to each realm so the races would each be able to have a weapon with equal power. They were to be used as defense against those seeking to dominate the Hemisphere. Each relic is infused with unique, strong forces specialized to every realm. But the downside to having such powerful relics is if they are ever joined together, they could obliterate worlds, races...anything! The owner of all four relics would be unstoppable."
"So, I'm assuming this Trinity society is after these relics then they will use them against Ear...I mean Terrene, right?" Nathaniel nodded.
"Which is why we brought you here...your family was tasked with guarding the Cimmerian relic."
Killian's eyes widened. "What? I don't know what that means?"
"Your parents, Killian, were appointed relic guardians." Nathaniel bit his lip as he paused and Miller looked at the ground. Killian's heart beat in his chest. He wasn't sure he was ready to hear what Nathaniel was going to tell him.
"You parents surprised us by asking for permission to bequeath the relic to you temporarily. They assured us it was temporary. The relic could only have been passed to you from your father. The relics can only be passed down a line, never up or to a different family. Even for temporary guardianship. You were the only choice. Temporary guardianship can be awarded and returned back to the original guardian if there is an emergency."
We felt assured your parents had good reason or they wouldn't have asked, so we authorized the temporary guardianship—you were only two-years-old." Nathaniel paused allowing Killian time to absorb the information. "Killian, a week later...your...parents were killed. It appeared to be an accident, but we aren't sure since they had passed on the guardianship. It seemed strange after the guardianship transfer, they were killed so quickly. Your mother was a brilliant analyst and scientist, and one of the electrical lines in her lab caught fire and both your parents..." He looked away from Killian's disappointed eyes. "Anyway, I'm sorry to tell you this story, but you have to know about the relic. It was stolen from you recently."
Killian gasped and instinctively grabbed his neck. "My necklace...with...with the gold charm on it?"
Miller nodded and picked up where Nathaniel left off. "Yes, that charm was the Cimmerian relic. It was bonded to you, which is why you never wanted to part with it...am I right?" Killian gave a quick nod. "When it was stolen, it gave us reason to believe the Trinity had found you and taken the relic. The attack from the wolves sealed this in our minds. They want you out of the picture, most likely to destroy the Thomas bloodline."
"You say I have grandparents, then where are they. And if the relic was so important, why did you send me away? Wouldn't I have been safer here?" Killian frantically replied.
Miller and Nathaniel glanced carefully at one another. "Killian, several weeks after your parents died, your grandfather passed as well,” Miller explained in a somber whisper. “You have a grandmother, your father's mother, named Rhetta. Rhetta panicked and fled with you. She believed it would keep you safer. It took us nearly three years to find you both, but with such a valuable relic, we couldn't let you be lost to us in the Hemisphere. Rhetta spoke with us. She believed her identity had been compromised. She also made valid points about not knowing who to trust at the Praetorium, so we all decided you would be safer on Terrene without her, under watchful eyes. When we learned from Blake the relic was stolen, we were preparing to extract you anyway. Then you were attacked; you were no longer safe there either."
Killian closed his eyes and dropped his head in his hands. "So, you sent me away as a little boy from the only family I had left." Slowly he lifted his head and glared at the two men.
"Killian, please. The Trinity is a secret society. It was difficult to determine who to trust at the time. We promised Rhetta we would never lose sight of you—"
"You watched how I grew up then," he interrupted, his voice dripping with bitterness. "You saw how miserable I was, but when it benefits you, that is when you bring me here." Killian felt the same pin-pricks along the back of his neck and scalp. “Everyone here seems to have an ulterior motive. That’s why you brought me here isn�
��t it? You need help finding the charm?"
"Yes, my boy," Nathaniel answered in a firm, truthful declaration. "We hated learning you were mistreated, and perhaps we should have handled things differently looking back, but we can't go back. And now there is a greater cause. We must find the relic—Terrene depends on it."
"Killian, try to understand. We thought you would be safer on Terrene, but we were wrong," Miller said with emotion. "Now, you may be the most qualified to help us retrieve the relic since, as its guardian, it is bonded with you. You may be able to sense it along the way."
A long silence ensued—Killian felt awkward as Nathaniel and Miller gazed at him, waiting for his answer. Finally, after several minutes he spoke.
"I will have to think about it. Everything I know is back home. I should be honest, I don't know if I care to involve myself in this fight. I don't mean to add to your guilt, but if I'd been aware of the significance of the charm, maybe I would have cared for it more. I was the one who was in the dark, it's not on my shoulders."
The two men both dropped their heads. Nathaniel nodded slightly.
"We understand my boy. Take the night and think it over. You can come to us tomorrow with your decision." He turned to his desk and pressed a small white button. "Connor will take you to the room we've arranged for you." He sat down and pulled out a small blue tablet and began working on it. Killian gave a curt nod and turned toward the door. He could see the severe disappointment in the men’s countenances, but he didn't believe he could help them find these relics. Killian opened the grand door and made his way to the hall. Instantly, the elevator doors slid open with Connor smiling at him.
"Ready to head to your room?" he asked cheerily.
"Sure."
The ride down was silent for only a moment before Connor began jabbering to Killian. "You are really going to fit in great here, Killian, I have a feeling. The food is to die for and there are so many things to learn and do...trust me it isn't all work, work, work. We have an entire outer arena dedicated to amusement—”
"I don't think I'm staying," Killian said abruptly. Connor stopped mid breath and scrunched his eyebrows.
"What do you mean? Did they explain to you the significance of your charm?" Connor stepped out into a magnificent carpeted hallway, keeping his bewildered expression on his face. Killian followed and stayed shoulder to shoulder with Connor.
"They explained everything — how my parents were the guardians, how they died, how I was thrown into a world with no family! I know you think I can help, but I can't. There isn't really enough reason to stay. You guys have dealt with the realms for a long time now. I'm sure you'll manage just fine without me." They both stopped at a fine, ornately carved door.
"Killian, would you mind placing your hand on the door? Please hold it for about ten seconds or so." Connor directed in a flat voice, ignoring his excuse. As Killian held his hand against the wood, Connor typed something into a small tablet he carried in his pocket. The screen was a deep blue translucent color that flashed red fingerprint shapes every few seconds. Finally, the device beeped. "Thank you. That should do it," Connor said as Killian lowered his hand. "No one will have access to your room but you. Just make sure you place your hand against the door and it will open. Well, I hope you will enjoy your room. We pride ourselves in making sure all members are provided the highest quality comforts."
Killian nodded his understanding. He felt at ease with Connor, though he knew by his expression he was disappointed. Connor stepped back as Killian opened his door. He didn't turn to leave, he just stood looking thoughtful.
"Well thanks, Connor, for everything," he said, slowly closing the door.
"Wait Killian." Connor shuffled his feet a bit before stepping to the doorway. "You have to stay. There are a few things I think you should know...you can't tell anyone I told you though, understand?" Killian was taken aback by the sharp tone in his voice.
"I understand."
"Your parents...I was a certified Potential, or an intern as you would say on Terrene, in the labs when they were here...I remember them, especially your mother. I... well, I don't think a fire would have taken them out. They were special recruits. They went on the most dangerous missions you can imagine trying to bring down the Trinity."
"What are you saying?" Killian asked, feeling his blood pressure rise.
"I don't want to give you false hope. They may be gone, but we never saw their bodies. I just find it odd they passed ownership to you right before they died, almost as if they knew they were going to leave." Killian held his breath remembering Nathaniel’s insinuation the timing of their death seemed strange too.
"Killian," Connor continued, "if you help us find Merlin's relic, your relic, we might be able to find out what happened to your parents. I have a feeling the people who stole the relic are involved in the disappearance of your mom and dad."
"Why do you think that? They died here, right? The accident was here. So how could the Trinity be involved."
Connor continued to gnaw on his lip. "That's why we need your help. No one, I mean no one except some Ponderi members and your grandmother knew where you were on Terrene. No one but the Ponderi knew about your relic before it was stolen and you were almost killed." Connor hesitated and shifted his eyes up and down the empty hall.
"Connor," Killian whispered, "are you thinking there is a member of the Trinity in the Ponderi?"
Connor shrugged. "How else would they know where to send the wolves and what the relic looked like? I think since your parent’s accident was here, if there is still a spy; if you help us find the relic, you'll get answers to what happened to your family. There's more Killian. Your mother was working on something...something big. When you were given the relic, my instructor had the opportunity to assist in the transfer of guardianship. He said there was something different about the charm, something more powerful. He even brought in a second opinion from Cimmerian. The woman was a supposed expert on the relics and she agreed with my instructor." Connor paused, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.
“You've had strange dreams and have experienced anomalies in your emotions, true?" Killian was breathless but nodded. "Well, if something was odd about the charm and it affected you, I'd say there is another mystery that needs to be solved too." Killian leaned against the wall, his mind was whirling.
"Can I still take tonight and process this?"
"Of course, just think hard Killian. If you go back to Terrene without Ponderi protection, how long do you think it'll be before the Trinity finds you? The way they go about stealing relics is destroying the bloodline of every guardian family. You're the last Thomas, so even if there is a spy, you are probably safer here where you can learn to defend yourself." Connor turned and began walking away. "Oh, I should tell you, the young lady you arrived with is back home and safe. Sleep well Killian, I promise you'll be safe in the room." He smiled and headed for the wall, leaving Killian alone to his thoughts.
After a long while, Killian turned into the grand room he'd been assigned. It was immaculate, with a towering cherry-wood dresser with at least a dozen empty drawers. The closet next to the bed was as big as his dingey cell had been. It had more space to hang clothing than a department store. Killian didn't know what they expected. He had about two shirts and two pairs of pants to his name and they weren’t even with him.
He saw a bathroom next to the massive closet. Inside was a beautiful old-fashioned tub that looked like a small swimming pool to him. The shower was magnificent with glamorous hand cut tile mosaics covering the floor and walls. Killian turned the bronze handle and watched as sprays of warm water flowed from every direction as well as waterfall spouts pouring in along the bottom, making sure his feet would constantly be covered in water.
Killian smiled thinking he could get used to this way of living. Before leaving the bathroom, he glanced at his reflection in a gilded mirror. His tanned skin was scratched and torn from his fall down the ravine. The reddish-brown whis
kers looked thick on his chin, and irritated his face. The brown color in his short, military style haircut looked darker from the dirt and debris coating his scalp.
After self-criticizing his gaunt face for several moments, the mirror fogged from the steamy shower. Turning off the water, he left the bathroom and sat down on the cloud-like bed. He rested on the mattress planning to just relax for a moment before getting ready for bed. His thoughts drifted to Mercedes, he hoped she was alright. Part of him wished she could've stayed, he would have liked to get to know her more. But he knew her place was at home. He assumed she had a loving family waiting for her. He wanted to go home and find her again, but Connor's theory was haunting him. He knew if he left he would wonder for the rest of his life what had truly happened to his family. If he wanted answers, this was the place he would find them.
Chapter 5
Realm School
Lavender sunlight filtered through the thin cream colored shades and warmed Killian's face. Stretching, he couldn't remember the last time he had slept so sound. He sauntered into the bathroom and soaked for much too long in the multi faucet shower. He peered at his tattered clothing from the day before. There were still deep, burgundy stains from where the wolves mauled him and the smell was rank. Sighing, although he knew the drawers were empty, he pulled one open.
To his surprise, there were several fresh gray T-shirts, with matching gray sweat pants. Opening the enormous closet door, he found an array of tan, gray and white shirts in various lengths with similar pants. There were even three different pairs of shoes: tall, thin black boots that reminded him of riding boots, thin black sneaker looking shoes that looked so light he wondered how they would protect his feet, and a pair of comfortable looking black sandals. Jumping into the slip-on sandals, he dressed, inspecting his faded scars from the day before. He was amazed; it was almost as if mucous coated fangs had never torn his skin.
