Sentinels of Creation: A Wizard's Soul

by Robert W. Ross

  “I’m just surprised we aren’t dead.”

  “You really should trust me more, Meghan. I knew what I was doing.”

  “No, you didn’t.”

  He grinned, “Nah, I didn’t.”

  Chapter 15

  A Day Of Training

  Kellan awoke to some of his favorite sounds and smells: sizzling bacon and fresh brewed coffee. He closed his eyes, stretched, then winced as all the strains from the previous day encouraged him to remain in bed. After taking a deep breath, and slowly letting it out, he called toward the kitchen, “Shannon, you are a goddess. Thank you so much for making breakfast. I promise, next time you come back from fighting demons, I’ll play chef.”

  “Well, that sounds like a promise worth holding someone to,” came a lilting voice to Kellan’s left. He cracked an eye and found Shannon turned toward him in their bed with her chin resting in the braced palm of her hand.

  “Uh,” said Kellan.

  She smiled, “You have such a way with words, my beautiful, bruised, man. Please, make me swoon again with your talented tongue.”

  There was a clang from the kitchen and Kellan turned toward the sound, then back to Shannon. “Who?” Before she could answer, the door to their bedroom was nudged open and Oren walked into the room carrying a large tray. “Oh no,” cried Kellan, “no, dude. I am exhausted. I need a day, just one day, without you or anyone else in it” He felt Shannon snuggle close and her arms slipped under and around his chest. He patted her hand and glanced backward, “You, may stay.”

  “How galant,” she replied and nipped at his ear.

  “You,” he pointed to Merlin, “may not stay.”

  “Now, now, Kellan we have a bargain and I aim to make good on my obligations before it’s too late. Today is the day you get trained by the First Wizard. Today, you will move beyond simply Ordered power. You will begin to learn the mysteries of Natural magics as well. Isn’t that exciting?” Merlin didn’t wait for a response but leaned over and placed the tray legs on the bed as Kellan and Shannon slid up. “Fresh coffee, scones, clotted cream, bacon and eggs. Scrambled for you and over easy for Shannon.”

  “I don’t want breakfast, Oren, I want to be left alone.”

  Shannon sniffed while reaching for a scone. “Speak for yourself, Kellan Thorne, I want breakfast and this looks heavenly.”

  Merlin beamed.

  “Oh come on,” said Kellan, “do either of you realize what has been going on with me over the past week. Let’s recap shall we. Killed by Jarvis. Resurrected by Jarvis and Nurisha. Almost killed again, this time by the Mantel of Revenge. Almost a baby-daddy for a Vampire Queen”

  “I remember that one,” said Shannon around a mouthful of bacon.

  “Almost killed in 1285,” continued Kellan ignoring her while pitching up his voice “Lucifer in my hot tub.”

  “You left something out from 1285, you know,” offered Shannon as she moved on to her eggs.

  “Huh, no I didn’t?”

  “You know—you did, Kellan.”

  The young Sentinel pushed up on his elbows and stared at her, “What the hell did I leave out, Highlander.”

  She waved a scone at him, “I’ve been telling you, you daft man. You know. You left out the,” she grinned at him predatorily, “you know.”

  Kellan’s eyes winded and he gave an embarrassed glance toward Merlin. “Oh, yeah, well,” he stopped and tilted his head more urgently toward Merlin while keeping his eyes on Shannon’s.

  “Oh, Kellan, he’s well and truly over me. It’s been lifetimes. Tell him, Oren.”

  The old wizard just smiled, but said nothing.

  “Where was I,” grumbled Kellan, “oh, yeah, Satan in my hot tub. Saving angels from Spa DeLucifer, having my cajun dinner ruined by Merlin, S’mores.” Kellan paused. “Ok, the S’mores were good, but then it immediately transitions to goddesses in see-through gowns, godly Mantels coming back to life, and finally Stepford demons trying to kill me.” Kellan stared at Merlin. “Any questions why I need a day off?”

  The wizard said nothing, but Kellan felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned to Shannon who gave him a soft kiss on the lips. “Sweetie, tell me about this goddess with the see-through gown. I think I might want to have a little chat with her.”

  Kellan poured himself another cup of coffee and turned just in time to see Shannon settle into the living room chair closest to the fireplace. “Hey, Highlander, no way. It’s my turn. We talked about this, just yesterday. That’s my favorite chair and I never get to sit in it anymore.”

  Shannon lifted her own mug and took a sip of the steaming black coffee. “You talked about it, Kellan. I listened. Some. This chair is the perfect size. I can sit and curl my feet beneath me while staying warm by the fire. Besides, you owe me for having to explain your sudden absence from dinner last night.”

  Kellan pointed at the wizard. “He said no-one would notice. Stones in the river, or some shit.”

  Shannon shrugged. “Well, Glenn didn’t notice, but Juliet did. Then, once she noticed, Glenn noticed too. It was a mess, Kellan. I, of course, cleaned it up for you—like I always do. So, the least you can do by way of thanks is let me stay warm by the fire.”

  “Warm? Why the hell do you need to stay warm?” Kellan did his best to affect Shannon’s brogue and continued. “You think this is cold, Kellan Thorne. This isn’t cold. Grow up in the thirteenth century Highlands. Milk goats in nothing but your shift, that’s cold.”

  Shannon smiled beatifically. “I like the cold so I can appreciate being warm. Everyone knows that.”

  Kellan pinched up his face. “What? Everyone does not know that because I don’t know it.”

  She tilted her mug at him, “You don’t know it because you are a man, and therefore ignorant about such matters. Trust me, it is the way of things.” She turned her attention to Merlin, indicating that she thought the matter settled, while Kellan did his best to sip coffee angrily. He stared into his mug and said, “Oren, this is delicious. I can’t quite place the flavor.”

  “Hmmm,” said the wizard looking up from his small leather notebook. “Oh, it’s bourbon. The beans were stored in bourbon barrels.”

  Kellan perked up. “Well, that’s cool. You know, back in the 1600s, the coffee trade was pretty sketchy. They actually shipped beans in whatever barrels they had on hand, rum barrels, pickle barrels, salt barrels, pretty much anything. I thought you didn’t time travel,” Kellan paused and drew out the wizard’s name, “Merrrliinn. And I thought you were all afraid of paradoxes. But you went back in time for bourbon barreled coffee. That’s rich.”

  The old wizard glanced first to Shannon and then gave Kellan a long suffering look. “Kellan, are you familiar with the concept of Occam’s Razor?”

  The Sentinel sputtered, “Of course I am. Ockham’s razor, named for the English Franciscan friar, William of Ockham who reportedly said Entia non sunt multiplicanda praeter necessitatem or More things should not be used than are necessary. Basically when faced with multiple options, the most simple is likely the best.” Kellan leaned back against the kitchen counter and looked smug.

  Merlin nodded, “Excellent, so since today is training day, let’s start with that. When applying Ockham’s razor to our coffee situation, which would Friar Willam select?” The wizard held up a finger. “One, the option where I tore open space and time in order to obtain what were likely inferior coffee beans in a seventeenth century bourbon barrel or,” he raised a second finger, “two, the option where I went into the Trader Joe’s nearest you and bought a can of bourbon barrel aged coffee?”

  Shannon made a sputtering sound and clamped her hand over her mouth as coffee began dripping out her nose. She shook several times trying to hold in the laughter while her eyes watered at the effort.

  “That’s it,” growled Kellan, “screw both of you.” Then he pointed to Shannon. “And you, don’t you dare get any of that coffee on my chair.”

  “I’ll take that to mean, you believe in op
tion two,” began Merlin, “Excellent. Now, let’s be off. We have much to accomplish today and little time to do it.”

  “Oh no you don’t,” lilted Shannon as she wiped her nose with a tissue. “It’s three days to Christmas and my Kellan is going nowhere without me.”

  Merlin shrugged, “Of course, you are welcome to—”

  “No, no,” said Shannon as she hopped up from the chair and moved close to Merlin. She waved her hand around the room. There were lights of red and green wrapping several indoor plants while nearly ever other surface had living garlands adorned with twinkling sparks of white illumination. In addition to all the lights, little Santas and Rankin-Bass miniatures were dotted throughout. “This is Kellan’s Christmas Cottage, and I’m not leaving, Oren. This is my first real twenty-first century Christmas and I’m not missing any of it.”

  “But,” tried the wizard.

  “No, last year didn’t count. I didn’t have any grasp on it. I still thought there were little people living in Kellan’s TV back then.” She stomped her foot. “No, I am staying here.” She pointed to Kellan, “So, he is staying here.” Shannon lifted her chin and placed her hands on her hips.

  “When she has that look,” began Kellan.

  “I remember it,” replied Merlin. “Seems we’ll be training here.”

  The three spent the next few minutes moving furniture around to clear a large space in Kellan’s otherwise small living room. When they were done, there was a reasonably good sized rectangular open area in its center. Merlin paced it off and nodded, then turned to find Kellan missing. He raised an eyebrow at Shannon who just shrugged. A moment later, Kellan returned, walking slowly while his head was tipped back. He squeezed a couple drops of something into each eye. The Sentinel blinked several times and looked down to find both Shannon and Merlin staring at him.

  “What? I went to go put in my Jarvis-contacts. He might see something useful and gets so whiny when I experience something new without him.”

  I do not get, whiny, Kellan came the clipped British voice which was transmitted into the Sentinel’s mind though some means he did not begin to comprehend even though Jarvis had explained it more than once.

  “You do, too, get whiny. Now, project your voice though the wireless speakers please so it doesn’t look like I’m talking to myself.”

  “Very good, Kellan,” Jarvis responded and it sounded like his voice came from at least nine different places all at once.

  Shannon did a little shudder and Kellan raised a hand. “Jarvis, how many times do I have to ask you not to speak through all the speakers at once. It creeps Shannon out.” She glared at him. “Ok, it creeps everyone out. Just the speaker nearest us, please.”

  “How’s this, Kellan?” asked Jarvis from the sound bar above their TV.

  “Perfect.” The young Sentinel turned to Merlin and spread his arms outward. “The floor is yours, Master Oren. I am but clay in your wise and experienced hands. Fashion me as you will.”

  Shannon and the wizard exchanged a look, then both rolled their eyes.

  “No, no, no, Kellan,” said Merlin in frustration. “Stop using Ordered power. I’ve told you that this is not of Order or Chaos but has aspects of each.”

  The young Sentinel felt his eyes dim and sighed. “Dude, this is just as annoying to me. Shannon and I were going to stay in bed and watch White Christmas and Miracle on 34th Street today.”

  “And Scrooge,” offered Shannon.

  “No, babe, that’s Christmas Eve.”

  “That’s right. I forgot, but there was a third one we had planned to watch today, wasn’t there?”

  Kellan thought a moment, “Oh, yeah. Elf. I almost forgot because that was a suggestion by James and I put everything he says into the ignore-until-later room of my brain.”

  Shannon brightened and said, “I haven’t seen Elf before. Is it good?”

  “It’s great. You are gonna—”

  “Excuse me, I truly am sorry to interrupt this critical exchange,” said Merlin, “but perhaps you could focus on motion pictures later and give a bit more attention to,” he paused then yelled, “my attempts to increase your power exponentially, such that you might even survive until next Christmas.”

  Shannon grimaced and Kellan said, “Well, I guess we don’t need to watch The Grinch, Shan. We have him right here in the room.” She shook her head in warning.

  “Kellan!” Yelled the wizard.

  “Ok, fine, Oren. Give me the foundational reasoning again. Something just isn’t clicking.”

  The old wizard plopped down into one of the moved chairs and groaned. “Very well. The two foundational aspects of creation are colloquially known as Order and Chaos although that is a ridiculous simplification. They are the yin and yang of this world if you will, but think of the space between those forces. The gap where they almost, but do not quite, touch. That is where natural powers live. The wild place that is of neither. It is the energy that flows through every manifested Mantle. A smaller fragment of that power is infused in all unnatural creatures, like Vampires. It is what animates them. Some few are able to recognize these forces and even fewer can manipulate them. Across the millennia such people have been called Shamans, Druids, Wizards, Witches, and many such things, but all those names simply convey one’s ability to touch and move natural forces.”

  “And yet I’ve never felt it,” said Kellan sullenly. “Why is that?”

  “Because you were almost entirely unremarkable before accepting the power of Order, Kellan,” said Merlin as he rubbed his temples.

  Shannon snickered and Kellan glared at her, but simply said, “Thanks, Oren.”

  “Oh, don’t take offense, the odds a person being both selected as Sentinel and attuned to natural energies is infinitesimal. You having been empowered by Ordered energy doesn’t make it easier for such attenuation. In fact, it’s harder because, as we have seen for the last hour, you readily slip back into embracing what you know, the power of Order.”

  “Then how do we know this will even work, Oren. I’m telling you, this is a waste of time. Maybe I can’t—”

  Merlin casually picked up a carved wooden figure of Mrs. Santa giving her husband a kiss of well wishes on his cheek, then tossed it toward the stone fire place. Just before it struck, the figurine froze in midair, twirled about and flew into Shannon’s outstretched hand. Merlin ignored the death look he received from the Soulborn. He pointed to her and said, “I know because she can do it. If she can do it, then you can do it.”

  “Anything you can do, I can do better,” said Shannon in a singsong voice and Kellan’s expression faded to resignation as she continued. “I can do anything better than you.” She grinned.

  Kellan groaned, “This is what I get for sharing my love of musicals. Zip it, Ginge.”

  “No, wait just a moment,” said Merlin rising. “I think that may just be the trick. Yes, I think that will work. Quickly, move these two chairs so they face each other.” Once the chairs had been repositioned, Merlin had Shannon and Kellan sit with their knees almost touching while holding hands. “All right, Shannon, I want you to project your thoughts to Kellan, as strongly as you can. Project to him what you do whenever you perform any act of telekinesis.” The old wizard watched as Shannon’s brow furrowed. He turned to Kellan and saw his reaction as their two minds connected. “Good, now, what have you caused to move besides that figurine a few minutes ago?”

  “I pulled the spear of destiny from the hands of a demon.”

  “Good, good, and what part of the spear did you picture coming to you? The shaft or the point?”

  “Neither, one of my mother’s daggers was embedded within the shaft. I wanted it back. I pulled on its handle, not its blade.”

  “And what is that made of?”

  “Bone,” she paused, “and leather, so bone and leather.”

  “She also has levitated pizza boxes,” offered Kellan.

  “Yes, that makes sense,” said Merlin mostly to himself. “Very bas
ic. Very primal. Flesh, bone, and wood.” The old wizard moved between the two and lifted Shannon’s right hand from Kellan’s left. He placed the wooden Santa figurine in her palm, then turned Kellan’s upward so her hand rested in his. The wizard stood back and said in a whisper, “Lift it Shannon, picture the carving as it floats above your hand.”

  The Soulborn took a deep breath and almost instantly the figure floated several inches above her hand. It began to slowly revolve as if Mr. and Mrs. Santa were waltzing to an unheard tune.

  “Perfect,” said Merlin, then turned to the Sentinel. “Do you sense anything, Kellan?”

  “Nope, is she doing it?”

  “Of course I’m doing it,” Shannon said smugly.

  “Ok, not working then. I got nothing.”

  Merlin frowned. “Are you still projecting your thoughts, Shannon?”

  “No, I forgot. There, now I am.”

  “Wha!” yelled Kellan and he shuddered as his world shifted around him.

  Chapter 16

  A Blood-Black Nothingness

  Kellan felt his perspective change and experienced a wrenching sensation. He saw himself continuing to face Shannon as if viewing the scene from a different angle. She smiled at his seated self and her eyes seemed to be glowing with a dim amber light as the carving spun above her hand. His disembodied self moved forward and looked more intently at her eyes. He wondered if they had ever done that before. The glow was so subtle that he could have missed it, given the color of her eyes.

  Shannon moved her left hand and positioned Kellan’s right so it matched her right hand and his left. She then caused the figurine to float over and rest on his palm. “Your turn, sweetie. Make Santa dance.”

  He concentrated and saw her eyes widen. “What?” he asked.

  “They’re glowing amber,” she answered, “ Your eyes, Kellan, they flashed bright as Seramai's for a second then went back to blue. Do it again. Lift the carving.”