by Troy Hooker
“No one is saying it is your fault.” Emma put her hand on his knee gingerly. “We will just have to figure this out, right Gus?”
“Right. I—”
Gus was cut off suddenly by Lillia, who had gasped loudly, making Emma nearly drop her coffee.
“It is the Dark arch theory again, isn’t it?”
“The what?”
Gus nodded.
“The Dark arch theory comes from the Dark Legend, the proclaimed Prophecy by the Dark Lords about the future of Lior.”
Oh great, Sam thought. Dark arch theories? Dark Lords? What have I gotten myself into?
Gus continued, “The Creator, when He formed the Earth, made sure that man would have a written code to live by, and a promise of His destruction of evil in the world. We call them the scrolls of the Creator, you call them the—”
“Bible. I know.”
Gus nodded again.
“But there isn’t much written about the future of Lior, and what will happen to Descendants when the Creator returns. For that, we rely on theories and hypotheses from our researchers, which often are debated because there isn’t much to back them up.”
“He’s not an idiot, Gus,” Lillia snorted. “Just tell him about the Dark Legend.”
Gus sighed, as if regaining his train of thought.
“The Dark Legend is taken from the only promise we believe we have ever received from the Creator Himself about Lior, spoken down throughout the ages, called the Prophecy of the Shadow.”
“How is a dark legend taken from a promise by the Creator?”
“Good question.” Gus nodded. “No one knows where or how the actual Promise was given. It was said to have been heard by only a few throughout the centuries. Some time after it was given, we believe the Dark Lords took it as their own, twisting it to suit their own needs.”
“So they are using the Creator’s words to come up with their own prophecy,” Sam understood.
“Yes.”
Suddenly Lillia dug through her pack, pulling out her journal and opening its worn pages.
“Why don’t we just read it instead?” she said snidely.
She traced her finger down the page of the journal until she found what she was looking for, then began reading:
In that day all of Lior will moan as the shadow is cast upon the lands. From the mortal world will come the last prophet, third to be called, who will seek the hidden gate to release the Dark One from his bonds. He will call unto himself the Darkness, and the shadow will be revealed. It is then the time is near.
“That was Boggle’s translation,” Lillia added when she was finished. “He worked on trying to preserve the original Prophecy as best as he could from the regions.”
The whole thing sounded strange and confusing to Sam.
“Why is the Promise called the Prophecy of the Shadow?”
“Researchers say it’s some sort of curse that would look like a shadow, I suppose … but I would have to look into it. My knowledge on the Prophecy is rather lacking,” Gus admitted.
Lillia laughed for the first time that night, even though it was obvious she was laughing at Gus’s expense.
“That’s a first, you not knowing much about something.”
This wasn’t anything new. Nearly every culture in the world had some sort of prophecy, legend, or set of stories to help them cope with not understanding the end of all things. It wasn’t the legend that scared him, rather the fact that he was having dreams about it.
“Why would the Dark Lords want to believe in all this?”
Emma threw up her hands.
“Because they’re a bunch of frauds, that’s why. Which is why the legend is nonsense—”
“So tell me why nearly half the Descendants in the regions and nearly a third of the Council is starting to believe there might be some truth to the Dark Legend? Are you really that naive to think no one else thinks the same way you do?” Lillia interrupted angrily, her momentary rage shutting Emma up for the moment.
“Regardless of who believes what, the legend been taken more seriously in Lior now than ever before, especially by those on the Council,” Gus said solemnly.
“Why do the Dark Lords want this Prophecy to happen?” Sam thought it best to direct his questions to Gus since the girls were obviously becoming emotional about the ordeal.
Gus sighed as though heavy in thought.
“For obvious reasons, they want nothing more than to release the Dark One from his prison. But more than that, some say the Dark Lords believe the third prophet to be sent will end up leading their dark army against the Creator.”
Sam chuckled.
“You actually believe this?”
The other three did not answer, but chose rather to listen as the sea seemed to pound the shoreline as the night breeze began to pick up.
Everything inside Sam wanted to believe that there was a rational explanation for his dreams—maybe lack of sleep or stress from school … but the truth was, nothing would justify the coincidences that were present now that he had heard about the Prophecy and the Dark Legend. He would not be able to let this one go.
“Doesn’t seem to me like the Promise the Creator made is a very good one,” he ventured.
Emma stood suddenly to warm her hands close to the coals.
“It’s the Creator’s Promise. How could it be bad?”
“It sounds like the Dark One will win.”
All three sets of eyes peered at him, as though he had just stabbed each of them in the heart.
“That’s not true,” Emma was the most offended.
“He’s right, ‘Em, the Promise has always been tough for Liorians to accept. On first glance, it just doesn’t sound like it ends well for us,” Gus started to see Sam’s perspective, “and there have been many theories about the Prophecy. Maybe it was corrupted, maybe there’s more to it, or maybe the whole thing is a lie. Either way, it just doesn’t seem to fit our narrative as Descendants and followers of the Creator.”
“But it has been passed down for ages,” Emma argued quietly.
“No one is saying it is wrong, ‘Em. We are just trying to figure this whole thing out, that’s all.”
Emma snatched up her backpack, setting her half-empty cup on the table behind her.
“I think I’ve heard enough. I’m going to bed.”
Gus stood also.
“I agree. We are jumping to some pretty crazy conclusions anyway.”
But before they headed back to the cabin, Sam held back once more, the others stopping also to find out why he lagged behind.
“So this guy Julian, would he be the first prophet then?”
Gus’s eyes looked yellow in the moonlight.
“It is possible,” he said slowly. “If what I heard was correct.”
“Well then, fortunately if that is true, I would only be the second one.” Sam scoffed at his own words. “If Julian is the first.”
They didn’t answer him, but as Sam and the others walked to the cabin, the Sterlings’s front door suddenly opened, and out stepped a rather rushed Mr. Sterling, throwing his robe over him hastily and hurrying down the steps.
Without so much as a word, he broke into a trot and sped past them, a look of worry and determination on his face. The four watched him silently, and even Emma, who wanted to call out to him, knew she wouldn’t get an answer, so she chose instead to turn to her friends with a look of What just happened? across her face.
“There seriously can’t be another meeting this late at night. That would make it the third time this week!” Lillia sputtered as she threw her jacket over her shoulders to fend off the chill in the air.
“Yeah, I heard daddy talking about old Miss Wrenge to one of the other Council members,” Emma said. “Apparently she’s been causing some trouble at the PO again.”
“Ayet Sal,” the old woman had said in the forest.
An impulsive thought flashed into Sam’s mind.
“Let’s go and find out.”
***********************
While Emma protested, the rest of them had convinced her it was indeed important enough to find out what was happening that would draw out the PO on a dark evening in the middle of the light festival. That, and the fact that Sam had just told them he was experiencing dreams that could be connected to a legend of the end of Lior could have given credence as well.
The four hurried through the salty cool air toward town, keeping to the path as best as possible and traveling by moonlight to keep them somewhat hidden. When they reached town, it was almost as if they had stepped into a ghost town. Only an hour prior the streets had been filled with vendors looking for last minute Kolar fans to sell their overpriced goods to, but now there were no carts with glowing hats or mugs, and all shops had closed up for the night. The soft blue lazuli lights lining Main Street were the only life present, except for a small group of cloaked individuals circling an old hunchbacked woman near the front gate of the City.
They appeared to be in a defensive posture surrounding her, but strangely she seemed unafraid. The four kept to the shadows and moved quietly down the street toward the huddle until they were as close as possible to hear the altercation. They huddled behind a pastry cart outside of a jewelry shop just as the woman began to raise her voice toward the Protectors who surrounded her.
“See ye all who live under the Light! You are deceived! The Dark’ness is nigh to your doorstep and you do nothing!”
“Ma’am, you must understand, we must see to it that our city is protected and find out how you were able to enter the City without …” a Protector sounding much like Jack Sterling attempted to say, but was immediately interrupted by the old lady, who was growing ever impatient with those who stood before her.
Suddenly, Sam knew who the old woman was. He had met her in the forest, where she had nearly blasted him with a bolt through the chest. She had the same disconnected look as she did when she first interrupted him. While her accent was still audible, she sounded different, almost as though someone was speaking through her. Needless to say, seeing her made Sam shudder.
“I know her. I saw her in the forest today,” Sam said, forgetting how his voice carried between the buildings.
“Shush!” Emma covered his mouth, obviously not hearing the words he had said.
“You must listen! Lior is in danger! The curse will soon be revealed and the dark gate will be opened!”
“Ma’am, I’m going to have to ask you—”
The woman took a step forward, which prompted an immediate response from the circle of Protectors, who assumed defensive postures, holding their palms outstretched toward the woman.
“Do not come any closer!” Mr. Sterling raised his voice to match the woman’s.
The woman stopped, but seemed unafraid of those that threatened her. Then she looked directly toward the very spot where the four were hidden and smiled.
“He’s waiting for you, boy,” she said strangely. Then she raised her hands hastily to the night above her and with a flash of blue light, was suddenly gone.
***********************
Back at the cabin, the four friends quickly slipped into the warm living room and parted ways to discuss the matter in the morning. Mr. Sterling and the other Protectors were instructed to search the area following old lady Wrenge’s disappearance, so they would have been discovered had they stayed any longer.
Clearly shaken from the ordeal, the two girls swore never to do such a thing again if they were given the chance, but on their way back, they did admit it was something they needed to bring up to Mr. Sterling … in the morning.
“Ayet Sal,” that old woman in the forest had said. Sam laid in bed trying to shut down his mind without success. Where did he hear it before?
Ayet Sal. Malek Eben. They were phrases he remembered. Were they from his dreams?
Sam rolled over in his bed, trying to re-situate himself into a more comfortable position, but it was no use. His brain was in high gear, and there was no way he was going to sleep anytime soon.
He peeked over at Gus, who was snoring soundly. Must be nice.
Looking at the dark pine ceiling above him, he opened his mouth and let a small prayer slip out above him.
“Creator—God, whoever you are, can you tell me what is happening to me? Why do I see these things?”
Silence was his only answer.
“Who am I? A Descendant? Why am I here? If you are real, please show me what to do.”
Nothing.
Sam laid in the silence, talking himself out of believing there was someone who would actually respond. Gus’s snoring was becoming more rhythmic. Perhaps he could fall asleep if he pretended it was the soft lapping of the ocean on the beach.
Just as he was about to give up, outside the window a soft blue light glowed dimly at first, then grew steadily brighter as it neared the second floor of the cabin where Gus and Sam were.
The small blue orb pulsated outside the window, then passed through the glass and into the room. The light circled the room once, then floated toward Sam, who lay perfectly still under the covers away from the cool air.
He recognized it as the same kind of Lazuli orb that he had seen Mr. Sterling send into the night when first arriving in Lior, and again in the Chancellor’s office.
Heart racing, Sam reached out and touched the orb, which now hovered directly in front of him. It unfolded into a message that scrolled softly across his hand:
Please join me behind the cabins. Jack. It read.
Then it faded away into the dim light of the room.
Without hesitation, he slipped out of his bed, and keeping an eye on Gus, slipped his shoes on. The stairs creaked as he tried his best to descend them without noise, and when he reached the cabin door, he paused to listen for signs of anyone stirring from their rooms.
Hearing nothing, he slipped out the front door and carefully made his way to the back of the cabin. Gentle waves lapped the shoreline of the Yarey as he peered in the moonlight for the messenger of the orb of light.
Suddenly, the form of a man was behind him, and he spun to see a cloaked Mr. Sterling standing in the shadows of the pines that extended to the west of the cabin circle. He motioned for Sam to join him beneath the branches of one of the larger of the trees.
“I apologize for the clandestine nature of this meeting, Sam,” Mr. Sterling said quietly. “It turns out there are some things we need to discuss outside the prying ears of many.”
Did he know they had watched them earlier with Miss Wrenge?
“I figured that sir,” Sam said instinctively.
Mr. Sterling nodded, his face showing obvious signs of exhaustion.
“Sam, I would like first of all to apologize for bringing you to Lior under pretense of better circumstance,” he said. “We did not tell you the whole truth.”
“I know that Sir.”
Mr. Sterling sighed.
“The Chancellor is concerned about your presence in Lior. Your background is, well, uncertain.”
“So the Research Office can’t tell if I am a true Descendant of the Light.”
Mr. Sterling nodded.
“Regardless of what we believe, or know …” he paused as if he knew something Sam did not, but thought it better not to share, then continued. “It presents a bad situation for the laws of Lior, which protects humans from coming too close to the spiritual realm.”
“So send me home, sir.”
“It’s not quite that easy.” He peered around the two of them, as if looking for eavesdroppers. Finding none, he continued. “Once someone has been to Lior from Creation, the Council must trust that individual to keep silent on wha
t they have seen. It is part of the oath of every Descendant of the Light.”
He dared not ask what would happen to him if he was found not to have the gift. “Why did you bring me here then?”
Mr. Sterling smiled.
“There are a few of us that truly believe you have the gift of Light. If we didn’t believe it so strongly, we wouldn’t have taken the chance.”
“I understand, but what now? Won’t the Council find out I am here?”
“They already know. I informed them today.”
Sam’s heart beat faster. Strangely, he wasn’t angry with Mr. Sterling, but he did feel a bit like they were taking a huge risk on him. What if he let them down?
“How do I find out if I am truly a Descendant?”
Mr. Sterling put a hand on his shoulder and scowled.
“I will be working with the Office of Research to help determine your lineage. I am certain we can trace your mother, but your father—” he paused, his greying hair reflecting in the moonlight. “There is much yet to learn.”
Sam’s heart began beating quickly again at the mention of his parents. Mr. Sterling had information on them, but judging from his expression, it wasn’t the time to tell him. When would the time be?
“There’s more.” Mr. Sterling’s eyes blazed in the fluorescent moonlight.
“The Council doesn’t like that I am here.” It was the obvious guess.
“They are divided—over the current vitality of the Darkness,” he ignored Sam’s statement. “There are many who believe that the Dark Forces are uniting once again in hopes of seeing the return of the Dark One.”
“The Dark Legend.”
Mr. Sterling cleared his throat quietly, but did not answer him right away. Why was everyone avoiding telling him anything? Like he couldn’t handle the answers?
“A small group of us believe a great deception has fallen over Lior, and over the City. A curse, so to speak.”
So the fact that there could be spies in Lior was not out of the question. He thought of Emma, and her faith in the system. How blind they were.
“If we do not expose this curse, we could be very vulnerable to attack, which is something this city cannot afford again.”
