Sentinels of Creation: A Wizard's Soul

by Robert W. Ross

  “Bill you are scaring me,” yelled Therese above the sound of thunder and amidst more lightning strikes. “Come inside, now!”

  She moved toward him but a bolt struck so close that she could smell the air burn as ozone was formed and Willam took a step away from her. Bolt after bolt streaked down forming a circle of blue-white light so bright that Kellan lifted his hand to shield his eyes. Within the circle, stood William who again raised hands to the sky. He began to laugh uncontrollably as the circle of lightning strikes constricted around him and Therese screamed in both anger and fear.

  “Come god of Thunder,” yelled William into the stillness. “Come god of lightning. I see you there. Are you afraid of me. I. Said. Come!”

  For the barest of moments everything became still as stone. Kellan looked up and said, “Uh oh.”

  With a crack that sounded like the earth had split open, a single amber bolt streaked down and buried itself into the ground at William’s feet where it shimmered into the armored form of a man with glowing eyes and long hair that blew in the wind. The form reached upward with its right hand and another bolt streaked down into its raised fist exploding in a shower of light and sparks. Kellan blinked against the light and when he regained his focus the form now held a massive hammer to the sky.

  His lightning blue eyes locked on William as he lowered the hammer and set it before the man. “You have called me forth from darkness. Your belief and will have joined with others to bring me back. Reach down your hand, grasp mighty Mjölnir and embrace the power of Thor.”

  William reached toward the hammer but drew back a moment later and looked at the Mantle.

  “What will happen if I take up Mjölnir?” he asked.

  “You will be Thor. We will be Thor,” it said.

  Kellan watched as William looked past the Mantle and saw his eyes connect with Therese. She stood there, chin up and unafraid of the powers displayed before her, but in here eyes the young Sentinel did see fear. The same fear he saw in Shannon’s eyes so often and, he knew, that she saw in his. The fear of losing someone with whom you were so inextricably linked that you didn’t know where they ended and you began.

  The door to the small home burst open and three young men and a girl ran out only to be held back by their mother.

  William looked at each in turn and then again to the Hammer.

  “Oh no,” said Merlin. “Oh no…no…no.”

  “What,” asked Kellan, turning to the wizard.

  “He’s not going to take it up. The Mantle will have no vessel.”

  “And that’s bad, right?” asked Kellan, “What happens if a Mantel gets turned down by the vessel that called it forth?”

  Merlin’s face became a mask of anger and frustration. “I don’t know, Kellan. As far as I’ve been led to understand it has never happened.”

  “William,” said the Mantle in a voice that actually sounded as if it were formed by thunder, “take up the hammer. The world groans for us. It has need of Thor.”

  Again, he reached for Mjölnir and Kellan could see tendrils of power reaching out to encircle his fingers as they made to grasp the hilt, but then William sighed and straightened. He stared at his family and then to the Mantel. “I cannot accept. I am not meant for godhood. I am a father. I am a husband. I am needed here. All that I love is here.”

  The Mantle tilted its head as if in disbelief. “But you called me forth from darkness, and without a mortal to darkness I will return.” As it spoke the words, Kellan could see cracks begin to form along Mjölnir’s shaft and the Mantel itself began to shake.

  “Wait!” came a voice and all eyes turned to the young man who stood among his siblings and mother. The Mantle shimmered and faced the young man as he approached.

  “Henry, what are you doing?” asked Therese.

  He looked to be in his early twenties and represented a good blend of both his parents with a strong face and his bare chest spoke of the long hours needed to chisel the muscles there. Henry turned back toward the mantle seemingly oblivious to the air’s late autumn bite. As he did so, Kellan spied a small device attached just above his waist, an insulin pump for those with Type 1 diabetes. Henry smiled at his mother, then looked to his father, and finally to the Mantle. “I cannot let the world lose what my father has just made new. I will take up Mjölnir.”

  Kellan heard Merlin gasp quietly as Therese and William looked into each other’s eyes. The mantle spoke. “Henry, are you worthy in both body and spirit? You did not call me forth. If the unworthy seeks to bond with me, he will be consumed by fire and lightning with both man and Mantel being destroyed.”

  Henry paused, suddenly unsure until he heard the soft words of his father. “Take it up, son. You are worthy.” A moment later his words were echoed by that of his mother who spoke with misty eyes and whispered “Take it up, Henry.”

  With a final look to both his parents, Henry strode forward without hesitation and closed his hand around the thick shaft of Thor’s hammer. He lifted it effortlessly and held it aloft toward the sky which was torn asunder by two brilliant bolts of amber energy that streaked down and buried themselves into both Mantel and Henry. A third bolt arced outward joining the two and Henry screamed still holding the hammer aloft. His parents both ran towards him, their faces masks of fear. Before they could reach him the arcing bolt flashed once and exploded causing the air to warp outward shoving both Therese and William to the side and into each other. They untangled themselves and stared where Henry had stood a moment before. Both man and mantle were gone, leaving only scorched stones and an insulin pump where once the fire pit had been.

  The two parents looked into each other’s eyes and Kellan turned to the Wizard. “Don’t even tell me,” he began.

  “Wait,” said Merlin, “He comes.”

  As if in answer thunder rolled across the sky and lightning arced above forming complex webs of energy from which fell a jagged bolt that splintered a massive oak on its way to the ground. As the dust and clods of earth cleared a large bearded man with golden hair stood among them with eyes of lightning and casually resting mighty Mjölnir on his shoulder.

  Therese moved first, scrambling up and tentatively placing a hand on the armored chest of the man before her. “Henry?” she asked.

  Thor leaned down, placed a kiss on her cheek, and said, “Hi Mom.”

  Kellan and Merlin looked at one another and found each to be wearing the idiot’s own grin. Their good feeling was cut off a moment later by a scream as the lightning weakened oak tree behind them cracked and started to fall toward a young woman who held up her hands defensively and screamed again.

  Without thinking, Kellan embraced his power and felt his eyes come to light as he snapped a glowing emerald shield around the woman even as a massive hammer shattered the bulk of the falling trunk. Shards of broken wood clattered harmlessly against the shield as the young woman opened her eyes and looked at Kellan, glowing runes running down his arms.

  She laughed a bit hysterically and said, “Oh, hi Kellan, I guess that’s what enochian runes look like, huh?”

  Kellan released the power and smiled weakly as everyone gathered around he and Merlin. The runes faded and he said, “Um, hi Maddie. What are the odds we’d be bumping into each other again, eh? Yeah, well.” He looked to Merlin who just shook his head.

  “Who the hell are you,” asked William rounding on Kellan who opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off by Thor’s hand resting gently on his shoulder.

  “He is the Sentinel of Order, Dad. He is God’s unchecked hand on the world.” Kellan smiled at William and gave a little wave.

  Maddie squinted at the giant man with the hammer. “Who the hell are you,” she asked.

  “That’s your brother, Henry,” said Therese calmly. “He’s Thor now.” She turned to William and caught his eye. “Bill, where is the rest of that rum?”

  “I’m already halfway there,” said William as he jogged toward the house.

  “Hey, Ragnar,” c
alled Kellan as he gave Thor a wink, “bring me a glass too, will ya.”

  Chapter 13

  A Friend In Need

  Kellan bent forward and took several deep breaths while resting his hands on his thighs. He waved away Merlin’s concern. “I’m fine. It’s much better. That travel spell only makes me feel like I want to puke this time around.” Kellan glanced up but the old wizard had looked away, his eyes distant. He stood with his hand braced against the mantle while staring at nothing in particular. “Oren? What about you? Are you ok?”

  “Hmmm, oh yes, Kellan, more than ok actually. I cannot believe what we just experienced.” He turned and helped Kellan back to his feet, then stared directly at the young Sentinel. “We saw a Mantle manifest! Thor is in the world.”

  Kellan nodded appreciatively. “Yeah, that was pretty dramatic.”

  Merlin took a step back. “Pretty dramatic. Pretty dramatic? I’ve traveled in time, became part of Arthurian legend, and lived the long way around to today and this is the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen. Exactly what has been more dramatic, my young Sentinel?”

  Kellan was about to respond and thought better of it. Instead he simply said, “You’re right, Oren. I’m sorry. Honestly, that was truly amazing.”

  The old wizard squinted at him. “Oh no you don’t. You have seen something more dramatic. Tell me.”

  Kellan sighed, “Let’s just say I paid a really uncomfortable visit to the Garden of Gethsemane about two thousand years ago.”

  Merlin frowned. “Don’t lie, Kellan. Why would you lie?”

  “What?” Kellan said, surprised, “I’m not lying. I didn’t even want to tell you.”

  “You are lying. That is a fixed point. It is impossible to travel there. You continually forget that I, too, have pierced the veil of time. In fact, I know more about that time than I suspect you do. It not only is fixed, it is—”

  “Foundational?” said Kellan with a smile that set Merlin back on his heels.

  “Yes, foundational, and traveling there would—”

  “Break the world?” said Kellan evenly, then added, “Notice anything like that, say, three months ago or so?”

  Merlin had gone white as a sheet. “That was you?”

  “Yup,” replied Kellan, his grin widening.

  “But, but, you nearly destroyed everything. What were you thinking, Kellan?”

  The Sentinel waved his hands at Merlin, “No, dude, I didn’t go there first. I went there after someone else made it through. I had to stop ‘em. Anyway, the whole thing sucked and I don’t want to discuss it. All I’m saying is that my bar for drama is slightly higher after that.” He noticed Merlin’s slow, dumbfounded nod, and quickly added, “Which in no way diminishes the epic coolness of what we saw tonight. I mean, c’mon, Thor! That’s just really cool.”

  Merlin composed himself and said, “Well, I’m tired, Kellan and wish to retire for what is left of the night.”

  “Oh, don’t be that way, Oren. This is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you.”

  “No, it’s completely fine, Kellan. I truly am just tired. You forget my age.” Merlin smiled before continuing. “And we have much training to do tomorrow for me to keep my end of the bargain.”

  “Hmm, what training? I thought that was my little trip to Mother Nature up there. Oh, and by-the-by, none of her aspects looked like the puppet from Year without a Santa Claus.” He paused, unconsciously shaking his head, “Especially Clotho. That dress she was almost wearing is just evil. I bet the label reads,” Kellan looked up and spread his hands while viewing an imaginary card, “Designed by Lucifer in Hell and assembled in Purgatory.”

  “Very amusing, Kellan,” said Merlin and he patted the Sentinel affectionately while brushing past toward the library door. “But you have never gotten a clear view of Gaia in her unified state. You did see that all her aspects can combine when necessary. Doing so maximizes their power and when all three Mantels combine in that way,” the old wizard glanced over his shoulder, “she’s the spitting image of that puppet.” Merlin made to turn away again, but stopped himself. “Oh, and I never answered you. No, the visit to Gaia was training of a sort, I suppose, but not the training to which I referred earlier. I will teach you the Charm of Making, Kellan Thorne. You will meet the Dragon.”

  “Really?” said Kellan walking around the wizard and blocking his path. “But I already know the Charm of Making. I knew it from the movie and then you used it again tonight.”

  Merlin took a deep breath, placed both hands on Kellan’s shoulders, stared into his eyes, and spoke in that tone parents use when explaining something to a slow child. “My dear Kellan, you know the Charm of Making, but you do not know the Charm of Making.” He turned away again but Kellan shadowed him.

  “What are you talking about? You used the same word twice but just emphasized it the second time around.”

  “Oh, Kellan, how many times did you pretend to be Merlin as a child and recited that Charm.”

  The Sentinel stopped in his tracks. “I never did that. What are you talking about? That would be—”

  “Kellan?” said Merlin.

  “Ok, maybe once.”

  “Once?” clucked the wizard and he passed through the door which led to the main foyer with its expansive twin stairs.

  Kellan jogged after him. “Ok, maybe more than once, but it’s not like I thought it would work.”

  “And did it work?”

  “Well, no, because I wasn’t a Sentinel.”

  “That had nothing to do with it, Kellan. The Charm did not work because it was not freely given with intent from one who the Dragon recognizes. I will do this for you.” His voice took on a tired edge, “Tomorrow. Now go home.”

  Kellan watched the old wizard top the stairs and walk toward what he assumed was the wing of the house that held his bedroom. There, at the center of the hallway wall, in a place of obvious honor, was a gorgeous oil-on-canvas painting. It depicted a beautiful young woman surrounded by children who appeared far too old to be hers. Kellan stared. He knew that face. He knew those eyes. Merlin had almost disappeared from view when Kellan called out. “What about Amy?” He saw the wizard freeze then slowly turn around. He placed both hands on the bannister and looked down at Kellan, expectantly. “She thinks you are all dead. Nissa, Shaylee,” he pointed, “you. Why does she think that? How does she even think that?”

  Merlin hung his head slightly and, for the first time, Kellan saw the weight of years on him. “That is a longer story than I care to tell now, but perhaps someday, my old friend. Suffice it to say that the heartbreak of losing us after what she believed to be long and happy lives, paled in comparison to our reality. Well, at least the reality for Shaylee and me. Nissa, oh Nissa, her life was as full and beautiful as our Mother could have wished it to be.”

  “Another time? C’mon, Oren, it’s not even one in the morning yet, just—” Kellan was distracted by his watch tapping him.

  Meghan: 911 Book-boy. Get here or I’m dead.

  Kellan felt his stomach lurch and an anxious tremor spread throughout his body. Of all the people in Kellan’s life, Meghan Daugherty was the least prone to either drama or exaggeration.

  The Sentinel set his jaw, eyes flashing to light, and whipped out his right hand to split the air with the shimmering green portal. He leaped through and turned ,“We’ll pick this up later, Oren, I gotta—” Kellan stopped. The wizard was nowhere to be seen.

  Kellan maintained the portal while he quickly scanned the area. It was dark and the portal’s illumination provided far more light than his summoned glow globes. It was quiet except for the intermittent sound of water as it seeped from rough cut stone walls to patter against the floor. Kellan knelt down and rested his hand on the cold steel of a rail track. Where the hell is this place he thought to himself and fished out his phone. No signal. He knew Meghan had to be near because this is where the portal opened. Kellan could portal with accuracy as long as even one of three critical pieces were in
place. If he had been to the location before, was provided precise location information, or had a strong connection to the person for whom he formed the portal.

  Kellan stood and took several steps along the track when his foot slipped and he struggled to keep his balance. Looking down, he found his grey sneakers covered in slime. He grimaced and lifted his foot, but the slime clung for several inches before snapping off to rejoin the puddle. In the process, Kellan noted a midsize steel box attached to the stone nearest him. He walked over to it and pushed the handle up with a resounding click.

  The area was bathed in a somewhat dim yellow light and Kellan saw there were at least six piles of slime in his immediate vicinity. Five of them seemed to form a circle around something while the sixth was several feet away. “Skinwalkers,” Kellan hissed as he released the portal. He walked to the center of the circle made by the Skinwalker corpses and bent down. He summoned a small globe to illuminate the ground and saw the slight impressions made by midsize combat boots. There were dozens of impressions, but in each Kellan saw the practiced stance of a mixed martial artist. Meghan Daugherty was definitely here.

  Kellan’s attention was drawn upward as a shadow eclipsed some of the emergency light and he yelped while jumping backward. A moment later, the body of a thin, gray, man slammed into the ground with a sickening thud. The body shuddered once and then dissolved into slime.

  A voice came from above, “Head’s up!” Then there was a flash of black and silver as Meghan fell from some unseen hole above to land in a perfectly executed Marvel stance. She wore her head-to-toe black Kevlar battle suit with the ceramic plates. Twin katanas crossed her back and companion Glocks were on each hip. She stood slowly and rotated her shoulders as they made soft cracking noises. As she did so, massive black wings appeared as shadows on the far tunnel wall.

  She smiled, “You got my text. Nice of you to come so quickly. Follow me, we need a more defensive position.” She started to jog down the tunnel, then stopped and turned, her face concerned, “Hey, How are your balls?”