by Troy Hooker
“I’m not saying anything like that, but your dad did say—” Lillia understood that Emma was getting defensive and tried to change her tone suddenly, but it was too late.
“Yes you are!” Emma was now on her feet, her words reaching ear-piercing pitches in the small room as she stamped her feet in protest. “You have always said that there are people in the Council and Protector’s Office that are corrupt! But you and I both know that hasn’t been the case for thousands of years! The Council is a holy, very honorable position, and they know it. And you are tossing it off like they are a bunch of cheap politicians! You have always hated the Council!”
“That’s not true, Em’. I am just saying that not everyone is perfect or can know everything, even your dad. He said there could be problems,” Lillia attempted to defended herself, but there was no use.
“He was just being cautious. I’m sure Sam heard him wrong …”
Suddenly an idea hit Sam like a bug hitting the windshield of a car. While only half listening to Emma and Lillia argue, he had pulled out Miss Karpatch’s instructions she had written from Gus’ open journal on the floor and was glancing over it. Road to knowledge, he thought. No, it couldn’t be. Could she have meant the library? “Known by the Creator,” the note said. Was she telling them how to get the passcode for the Holobooks?
Sam attempted to block out the two arguing and focus on the problem, which to his relief seemed to be second nature now. He was glad too, because the stone walls were not meant to have so many emotions ricocheting off of them without inciting the slightest bit of craziness. At least it was Lillia who was the quieter of the two this time.
“What about other names for the Creator?” he interrupted their argument loudly, which was still in full swing, both girls now red-faced and stamping around the room.
Emma’s tone shifted suddenly at Sam’s question.
“Yes,” she huffed, her face still red. “There are quite a few. What about it?”
“We tend to use the name Creator partially because the name has come to be familiar for what we know Him by, but also because Liorians have chosen not to use his names out of respect,” Gus said. “You call him ‘God’ out of ignorance, but we know him by what he has done for Descendants.”
Sam knew that Gus didn’t mean to insult him by calling him ignorant, but it still stung a little. And it was true … the human race was ignorant about God, or at least what they knew about Him. But to be fair, no one in modern society had ever seen Him.
“So, what if we tried some other names of the Creator as the passcode? I was looking at Miss Karpatch’s note and—”
“Brilliant,” Gus stood suddenly, dropping dried fruit in Lillia’s lap.
They made their way back to the workbench and called out various names they knew for the Creator, such as “Healer” for the gift of Light healing that was given to Liorians after the first great battle with the Darkness almost four hundred years ago, and “One who Hears” for guiding Descendants, and “Unknown Source” as the provider and supplier of Light.
Gus was able to come up with a few others that were in the old language, but none of them were accepted by the robed hologram woman. It was beginning to look like another dead end. No one wanted to admit it, but they were rapidly running out of ideas, and time.
But suddenly, the answer came again to Sam. If the information in the secret library was to be protected, from whom would it need to be protected? Who was the one group that would absolutely hate to say the name of the God of the Descendants? Right away, he knew the answer.
“What do the Dark Lords call Him?”
***********************
“Why would we want to say that? This is a city of Descendants, not Darkness!” Emma scolded. “Besides, they hate to call Him—” she stopped suddenly, a large smile creeping to her dirt spotted cheeks. “Oh …”
“They call him Tanash,” Gus said quickly. “The Abandoner.”
The robed woman turned and pushed an imaginary door open with her hands, then disappeared.
The room grew steadily brighter as the Holobooks began glowing shelf by shelf from words illuminating their pages. It was as though someone turned on under cabinet lighting.
The robed woman returned, asking them how she could help, to which they unanimously told her “The Watcher Stone.” She then rattled off a warning about the content of the data being unsuitable for those under the age of mentoring and those without the proper authority to view secure official printings, then pointed to a shelf on the wall farthest from them where a single book glowed red among a shelf of blue.
Gus led them quickly over to the shelf where a book glowed bright red, even through the thin layer of dust. He cradled the glowing book in his arms and opened it gingerly, revealing its gleaming pages as the others gathered around him. As he touched the pages, the binding of the curious book turned suddenly back to an iridescent blue, except for one page, which still glowed red. He thumbed carefully to the glowing page and opened it up for everyone to see.
A peculiar scene glowed in full animation in front of them, with children running around a large tree, laughing and throwing themselves on the ground as if they were possessed by happiness. A sun had shined brightly in the background, but now began to melt into the scene, turning black like the ground below, and the tree. The tree twisted and turned where it was, almost as though it were captive to the darkening scene. The children lay perfectly still, and laughing at the twisting tree above them, which now began to take the shape of an arch.
The carefree expressions of the children changed to horror as dark fluid shapes burst from the tree-arch, billowing like a cloud above them and melting into the scene like the sun. Then the scene disappeared altogether, leaving nothing but words and a diagram of the black arch.
Not wanting to see it again, Sam turned away from the book and the other three to find a spot to sit down and catch his breath. It was the black arch and the dark swirling shapes, right there in real life for all to see. Emotion suddenly came over him, and all of the feelings, sleepless nights and anger he had been burying inside rushed to the surface, and tears began to make their way to the corners of his eyes.
Why did it affect him so much? Nothing had made him feel this way before, not even his foster parents leaving without so much as a gesture as they stood on the train station platform.
The image of the arch sank into the pit of his stomach and churned there. Something—he couldn’t figure out what—was driving these feelings, like the calm before a storm.
Emma slid up beside him, putting her arm around his shoulders.
“Was the book like your dreams?” she whispered softly.
Her touch was deep and soothing, like a ray of sun poking through the cloud on a chilly afternoon. She looked deep into his eyes, able to see more of the real emotions he harbored than anyone else in his life.
He lied flatly, telling her the dust was getting to him, even though he knew she would see right through his attempted deception.
Instead of challenging him, however, she simply laid her head on his shoulder.
“You know, when I was old enough to understand what I was, not fully human, I felt strange, like I wasn’t supposed to be in Creation anymore. I looked at everything differently—school, other people, even food, but my parents were always there for me, helping me to understand.”
She held out her hand and a small blue light appeared, swirling in her palm like a trapped wisp of blue smoke.
“They told me not to be afraid, to embrace what lie ahead for me. My fear is what confused me, and I had to let go of it before I could understand. Now that I have embraced it, my faith has allowed my gift of Light to grow.”
Even though he was only half listening, he understood her completely. She wasn’t throwing his lack of faith in his face; she was sharing the wisdom she had obtained when she had feared her ow
n future. It was valuable insight, and he treated it as such. Coming from Mr. and Mrs. Sterling, who he had come to respect highly, it was more than likely worth listening to.
Gus stood suddenly, looking perplexed, with his nose buried in the glowing book.
“I can’t believe it,” he said loudly. “It’s here … all of it. Sam’s dream, the Sha’ar gate, the Watcher Stone, everything.”
The three others were instantly crowded around him, staring at a page of glowing words.
“Look here,” Gus pointed to the second paragraph. “It’s from the Protector’s Office daily records. It says—”
“Oh, just give it to me,” Emma said as she snatched the book from his hands. “I’ll just read it …”
Incident No. 497 During the Creation year eighteen ninety-four, a young girl named Opus Wrenge was admitted to the Lior City Healing Center with dreams of dark flowing shapes emerging from an unknown arch into Themane. In her possession were sketches her parents, Mr. Jarston and Ginerva Wrenge, claimed to have witnessed her draw. Miss Wrenge was kept under watch for the time of one month by the Office of Seer Affairs, during which time no dreams occurred. Upon being discharged, however, her parents reported that the dreams returned, and thus also began daytime delusions. Reports were never investigated, but included unfounded warnings that the City of Lior would be infiltrated by the Darkness. No follow-up was initiated, as the Office of Seer Affairs did not give it credible thought. Mr. Jarston and Ginerva Wrenge have agreed that, in the best interest of Opus and the well-being of Lior City, Opus’s condition would be better cared for outside the City walls …
“Wow, newb. That pretty much sums you up—the dreams and being delusional …” Lillia scoffed, but Sam ignored her, looking strangely at the name of the little girl from the account.
Wrenge. Where have I heard that before?
“Oh my,” Emma said suddenly, staring at the glowing words on the page intently. “I am so stupid to not see this right away.”
“What is it Em’?” Gus attempted to retrieve the book once again from Emma’s hands with no luck, as she maintained her death grip on the binding.
“Wrenge,” she repeated. “Old lady Wrenge from the forest by our hideout spot.”
“What? Seriously?” Sam was floored. “That crazy lady in the woods?”
“Oh wow. I didn’t see that coming,” Gus smacked his hand on the wall behind them loudly, sending another plume of dust particles soaring through the soft blue light of the room.
“She had dreams just like Julian and Sam?” Lillia asked.
And one went crazy and the other one died at the hands of the Dark Watchers, Sam thought. Not the best odds.
Gus peered at the Holobook for a moment, then turned the page.
“Look.”
A crude drawing of a small stone took up nearly the entire page, obviously drawn in a hurry, but at closer look, the digitized image was turned into a three-dimensional holographic image that, when touched, would allow them to see all sides of the Stone.
Gus reached out and held the holographic Stone in his hand, turning it in all directions. On the face of the Stone, the four colors of the four regions of Lior began to become visible. A black marbling rippled throughout its exterior.
“These are some other drawings old lady Wrenge drew.” Lillia pointed at the margin. “It says it right here.”
She was right. Both the arch and the Stone were clearly labeled as evidence from incident No. 497, drawings from one Miss Opus Wrenge.
Gus turned and stared off into the corners of the dimly lit Hololibrary.
“Gus, what is it?” Emma pried suddenly.
Gus looked down at the journal and then back up at the other three nervously. “Seers that are found in Lior see events that are happening now, right now, as we speak.”
“So?” Emma scowled. “There are many found with that gift and work in the Seer chamber. Why does that matter?”
Gus sighed.
“Prophets, on the other hand, can see events in the future.”
Lillia and Emma gasped suddenly, but it took Sam a moment to understand what was going on. Then, it hit him. If Julian Lawrence and Opus Wrenge were prophets, according to the Prophecy of the Key, two of the three prophets would have already fulfilled their role in the Creator’s Promise.
“Which would make him the third prophet,” Gus said grimly.
***********************
Emma stared at the glowing image of the Watcher Stone Lillia was holding in her palm from the Holobook.
“This has gone too far,” she gestured to Lillia and Gus angrily. “There is no way Sam is a part of this. Wrenge, I understand, she’s crazy, and Julian worked with Boggle here in the City, but that doesn’t make them part of the stupid Dark Legend, or the Prophecy, or whatever.”
“We have to consider the fact that they could be connected somehow,” Lillia interjected. “I mean, there are quite a few Descendants that believe the destruction of the old city started the clock to the Creator’s return. Just because the Prophecy isn’t what you think it should sound like doesn’t mean it’s not part of the Creator’s plan.”
“Yes, I realize that,” Emma said flustered. “But the Dark Legend has no place in the Creator’s Lior. It’s just—not—right.”
Lillia laughed.
“You think we are just impenetrable, don’t you? Look around, Em’! This world isn’t perfect!”
Emma’s eyes dropped.
“I know … I just can’t believe something like this could be happening.”
In a strangely sensitive gesture, Lillia put her arm around Emma, hugging her tightly.
“I know you want Lior to be the way it always has been, Em’, but you have to remember, our past has not always been so wonderful. There were dark days that we ourselves have never experienced.”
“We also must remember that just because the Dark Legend came from their mystics, doesn’t mean we have to believe it’s true,” Gus said. “Or at least the outcome.”
“But the Council believes it,” Sam said.
“Not—all of them,” Gus answered. “But we must be ready for the possibility that the they may make the connection with Wrenge and Julian as well.”
“What if their dreams are from the Darkness, and that is part of the deception?” Lillia asked pointedly.
Gus paced in the dark room, the only light emanating from the Holobook woman and the soft glow of the book they held. The Lazuli in the lantern had long since burned out.
“I don’t know what to make of it at this point,” Gus admitted.
Emma let out a frustrated huff, but none of them said any more about it. It wasn’t a pleasant thought to wonder what the Council might think of the situation, but to not at least discuss it would be foolish.
Sam thought about the arch and his dreams. They were deeply powerful, and often he awoke afraid of what he had seen, but something about them did not seem like it was of the Darkness. Whatever it was still drew him, but the more he tapped into it, the less it seemed like a threat.
He stood suddenly and walked over to the holographic woman. For some reason, he kept thinking of the cloaked person at the gate in his dreams. He used something to open up the arch for the swirling dark shapes to pass through. It looked like a small stick, or maybe a stone, that was inserted into the leg of the black arch.
It had to be the Watcher Stone.
But what did Ayet Sal have to do with the Stone? It had to be part of it, but what?
Looking at the patient glowing image of the tiny woman in front of him, he decided to try something different, something he had feared discussing and was afraid to ask.
“Please search for Valley of Death,” he told the glowing figure in front of him.
“I’m sorry sir. There is nothing found,” she spoke softly.
“Se
arch for ‘Ayet Sal’ please.”
The woman didn’t move.
“Valley of Ayet Sal,” he tried. “Shadow Valley. Ayet Sal Valley.”
None of them worked. He knew the term. Why wasn’t it hearing him?
“Mind if I try?” Lillia was standing next to him and seemed to know right away what he was attempting to do.
“Ayet Sal,” she said slowly, her pronunciation sounding more like a rush of wind than words.
The woman bent down, turned something in front of her, and then went silent once again.
Behind Gus, the outline of a door suddenly appeared with a great thud and a puff of dust. Gus, who was deep into a Holobook’s pages, jumped at the noise. With a thunderous roar, the door slowly opened to reveal a brightly lit room on the other side. The blinding blue light stunned them at first, but as their eyes adjusted, they could see the many shelves lining its interior.
“How did you do that?” Sam asked with his mouth open dumbly.
“Its Hebrew. You say it without vowels. Boggle says it all the time,” Lillia flipped her hair and walked straight up to the door and slipped inside.
“Yeah, well, too bad he had no clue how to get into his own dumb lab.”
The others, dumbfounded, followed Lillia into the glowing room, where it took several minutes for their eyes to fully adjust from being in the dimly lit Hololibrary. The shelves of the tall, open room were filled with artifacts of all shapes and sizes, some made from gold, silver, or precious gems, and others from simple stone or clay. Three large stone tablets nearly the size of the door hung on the wall in the back, filled with writing in another language.
“It’s not Hebrew or Shemite. I don’t know what script that is,” Gus said, looking very puzzled. “It is very complicated, from the looks of it.”
“Guys, look,” Emma pointed suddenly at one of the shelves underneath the center stone tablet.
A small Stone about the size of a quarter lay gleaming in the center of the carved shelf. It was walnut-black in color, with marbled streaks of differing colors crooking their way through the center of the Stone.
