Birthright - Book 2 of the Legacy Series (An Urban Fantasy Novel)
Page 20
A horse.
I was looking at a horse shaped from pure white light. It trotted toward the wraith, which had stopped rasping and was just wailing at this point. It took a swipe at the animal with its claws, but the appendage simply passed through harmlessly. The horse reared up and trampled the wraith, exploding into a supernova. With a bloodcurdling wail and a loud whoosh, both horse and wraith disappeared in a flash.
“Ah, that was close.”
A middle-aged man emerged into the alleyway. His hair was a shaggy mess, gray like the robe he wore. His undershirt was once white, but weather and travel had darkened it. His pants were black and caked with dried mud and dirt. His hiking boots, their original brown color indistinguishable from the mud crusted on it, were worn and old. His robe had a white lining, caked with mud and dirt and tied around his waist with a simple black sash. The man carried a rucksack on one shoulder.
“Hello,” he said sweetly. His accent was Eastern, and as he came closer, I saw his eyelid folds, a gray goatee. His skin was heavily tanned. He extended one hand toward me. “My name is Tenzin.”
31
I remember waking up in a warehouse. For a moment, the world spun, and when it finally settled down I tried to remember the past few days. It all seemed like a dream — the battle with my father, running away from home, living like Tarzan and slumming in an alleyway like a bum. My eyes wandered down my body, and the ragged clothes confirmed this was no dream. It was all real. I heard a noise behind me like the clanking of metal and instinctively rose into a crouch. My hands felt the floor around me, hoping to grasp my magical short sword, but I found nothing.
The warehouse door opened a crack and closed again. I heard footsteps and squinted to see who was entering. A lone man walked gingerly with a bundle in one hand. He saw me glaring at him and beamed.
“Ohayo,” he said. He sat down on a trunk a few feet away from me. “That is Japanese for ‘good morning’.” He motioned me toward him as he set his bundle down.
“Come, come,” he said. The bundle came undone, and inside I saw three fish, each the size of my forearm. My mouth began watering. It seemed that my diet of one meal a day, consisting of forest life, stolen groceries and whiskey, wasn’t exactly what one would call ‘healthy’. The Asian man smiled and picked up one of the fish. He extracted a small penknife and gutted the fish, throwing the remains in an empty rusted can of paint. He picked out a small, straight stick from the rucksack at his feet and skewered the fish. The remaining fish suffered the same fate.
“Breakfast,” he said with a smile. A pencil moustache and goatee stretched along his lips, and his eye folds completely covered his eyes. His messy gray hair was darker than I remembered last night, and I smelled ocean water on him. I heard waves crashing outside, and I guessed this warehouse was somewhere on the docks. He must have dived into the water and caught the fish himself. He placed them in a triangle, pinning the tip of the stake emerging from the tail to the ground, and tied the tops of the stakes together in a sort of pyramid.
“How did you manage to catch those?” I asked. Small talk was better than asking exactly what happened after I fainted yesterday, or why he had chosen to bring me here.
He placed his hands around the fish-kebab construction. The space on the floor underneath the fish was charred. He whispered something, and fire burst out on the scorched spot. Soon, the place was filled with the heavenly smell of cooking fish.
“I have my methods,” he replied. The smile never left, and his eyes seemed to twinkle. He took a flask from his backpack and handed it over to me. I heard the sloshing of liquid inside, then uncapped the flask to smell its contents. It was just water. I took a tentative sip and realized just how hungry and thirsty I was.
“Easy, easy,” he said gently. I lowered the flask and wiped my mouth. “You are dehydrated and malnourished. You must not rush your body when regaining your strength.”
“You don’t know my body,” I murmured.
“My name is Tenzin,” he said, extending his hand. “After you were attacked yesterday, you lost consciousness, so I brought you here. Feel free to stay until you recover.”
I wearily shook his hand. “Why?” I asked.
“Because not enough kindness is shown in this world. So, I have made it my mission to help people wherever Kami-sama sends me.”
“Who?”
Tenzin chuckled. “I apologize. I grew up in a Japanese monastery. Kami-sama means God.”
“So, you’re on a mission from God?” I asked with my eyebrows arched. Just my luck. My savior had to be a Bible-thumping nut job or a terrorist. “And what exactly are you supposed to be doing?”
Tenzin’s expression got serious. He clasped his hands together. “I never really stopped to question it. I wander around wherever destiny pulls me. There, I find someone who needs my help, usually from something dangerous.”
“Like a wraith?”
Tenzin’s eyes squinted. “So, you are a wizard after all. I had my suspicions but we couldn’t communicate at the time because of your condition. What is your name, my young friend?”
“Erik.”
“Well, Erik, how are you feeling? Still feel like killing yourself?”
I gave him a look. “That’s none of your business.”
“My apologies,” he replied. “However, I cannot allow you to harm yourself in my presence. It is my duty to preserve life wherever I see it.”
I scoffed at him. “Another bleeding heart. You don’t know half of what I’ve been through, old man. So, shove off,” I said as aggressively as I could.
If my words affected the Asian guy, he didn’t show it. “Yes, that is true, I do not know of your troubles. But I find that once you share them you are able to see your problems with a more rational perspective.”
“I don’t wanna talk about it. It might get me killed.” I looked away from him. “You may be the killer for all I know.”
“Yosh!” he snapped suddenly and gleefully, and he rubbed his hands together. “A story for a story,” he said, as he extended both index fingers.
I couldn’t help smiling. It was so funny watching this middle-aged man with gray hair, smelling of fish, waving about his fingers. The enthusiasm was something I’d expect from a kid, not an adult with a mission from God.
“It’s a long story,” I warned.
“And the fish take a long time to cook,” he replied.
“Whatever.” I shrugged. “But you go first. What are you?”
Tenzin stood and bowed deeply. “I am a poor man from a Tibetan village that no longer exists. It was destroyed by dark creatures many, many years ago. I was found and adopted by a monastery in the Iga Mountains in Japan. They taught me to abandon myself to faith and let go of my anger and other earthly attachments. In return, I was blessed with powers to bring about peace and kindness.”
As he spoke, his form shimmered in light and power beyond anything I had ever felt before. Like an aura, the light intensified and solidified. Tenzin stood in the middle of a Buddha made out of light. It would have been funny and clichéd, were it not for the sheer power of Tenzin’s aura. It was as though I were in the middle of a vast ocean with no end in sight. The power of belief and faith.
“My faith allows me to summon the elements in the forms of devas, or animal spirits.” Tenzin’s voice echoed like a struck gong. His words resonated inside my very core as if the deity he represented spoke directly into my soul. “I believe you have already met one of them.”
“The horse,” I said, remembering the creature made out of pure white light that had destroyed the wraith.
“Yes. It represents purity, and it only manifests when there are creatures of foulness and ungodliness,” said Tenzin.
The Buddha behind him dissolved again and shrunk. It solidified into a bipedal creature about half my height, and when the light became less intense I could make out a canine figure. Tenzin sat back down on the trunk and watched the dog as it took on the shape of an Alsatian wi
th gray-white fur and intelligent blue eyes. The dog hung its head low and padded toward me. Without any warning, it extended its long wet tongue and began licking my fingers. My hand caressed its head, trailing along from its wet nose to the soft, silky fur on its snout. The creature lowered its head further. I rubbed the fur behind its ears and on its shoulders. All I heard for a few minutes were the intense short breaths of the dog as it rumbled happily with its tongue hanging out and tail whipping from side to side.
I sensed power radiating from it, a more compressed and focused version of the Buddha’s, like a different instrument playing on the same melody. It seemed more familiar, a sensation that touched my heart directly. It was as if my troubles no longer existed and everything was going to be all right. The darkness I thought had become my very existence shed away to reveal the happy yet lonely boy who had lost his way in the world. The more I petted the dog, the more light-hearted I became. It was that feeling of pure comfort and love, something rarely felt by humans with their jaded brains. A feeling of utter kindness and devotion, a feeling of pure love.
The back of my head, the jaded part hardened by years and years of living a life of traps and fighting, connected the dots. Those were feelings associated with dogs. The dog was a spell, so these feelings must be the effect of magic, and therefore, not real.
I forced my hand away from the dog and a shiver ran through my spine as if I had done the most unnatural thing in the world. The dog reared its head up and stared at me with its intelligent eyes.
“The power to give kindness to others,” said Tenzin as he nodded toward the dog. “That is the true power of a God, the power to give unto others kindness, respect and love. That is God.”
“So, it’s not a trick?” My voice was throaty, as if I were about to burst into tears at any moment.
“No,” said Tenzin gently. “I do not control the power of Kami-sama. I am merely a conduit, a vessel for a greater being. That –” he pointed at the dog “– is an aspect of God. An aspect God decided to bestow on you.”
His words hit me hard, and a lump formed in my throat. My hand reached out and petted the dog once more. Peace and clarity entered me, filling me with hope.
“Thank you,” I mouthed to the animal as I felt something small, hot and wet trickle down my cheeks. The dog rolled out its tongue again and hyperventilated happily. It slowly dissolved into the natural light inside the warehouse, vanishing from beneath my fingers.
“Wow.” I wiped my eyes with my jacket sleeve.
“Indeed,” replied Tenzin.
“Have you ever felt that?”
“Every day of my life. Especially when I help someone like you,” he said kindly.
“No wonder you’re always smiling,” I retorted.
“Yes, I am truly blessed.” He prodded a fish. “Still a little raw. Perhaps we can pass the time with one more story,” he said, looking at me intently.
“Fine. But first, I gotta ask you something.”
“Ask away.”
“I had a blanket with me wherever I went,” I said. “You didn’t happen to pick that up as well did you?” I asked, half-expecting him to say that he left Djinn in that alleyway.
Tenzin rose from his seat, flipped the trunk open and tilted it. Inside was my short sword with its cover slightly looser than I remembered.
“Quite the weapon you carry, Erik,” remarked the Asian. He closed the lid back and sat on the trunk. “That sort of thing is quite dangerous.”
“It’s a family heirloom.”
“It’s a dangerous artifact capable of tainting your thoughts.”
“It’s my channel. It’s attuned to me,” I replied.
“Hmm, that would explain the hostility I sensed from it,” pondered Tenzin. He sighed. “Either way, I cannot give it back yet.”
“And why the hell not?” I said angrily. I began forming a plan to attack him, although I wasn’t very confident in my powers after his demonstration. But on the other hand that channel was my only source of magic and a connection to my family. The loving members. I was ready to fight if that’s what it took to retrieve it.
“Because I would rather both of us remain unarmed and enjoyed a peaceful breakfast,” replied Tenzin simply.
“Fine. Shall I start with my story or my power?”
“Are you not a wizard?”
“Not exactly.” I paced around the warehouse. The place looked like an abandoned chop shop. I picked up a rusty nail, a long one, and held it toward Tenzin like a magician displaying his cards.
“Erik, what are you going to do with th—”
Before he could finish his sentence I stabbed the nail into my palm. It tore through my flesh and an inch of rusty steel emerged from back of my hand.
Tenzin rushed over to me. “What are you doing?” he asked as he grasped my hand.
“It’s okay,” I reassured him. “Just pull it out.”
“Doesn’t it hurt?” he asked with genuine concern.
“I’m used to much worse.”
Tenzin pulled the nail free and tossed it behind him.
“Look.” I wiped blood away from my hand so that the hole was visible. Tenzin gasped softly as the wound healed itself in a matter of seconds. He prodded the newly sealed flesh tentatively.
“Good as new,” I said.
“Remarkable,” he whispered, and stared at the spot on my palm. He beckoned me back toward the fish. “You have a truly amazing gift, Erik.”
“Yeah, but I don’t see it that way,” I replied. “I can heal from almost anything. But I can’t use magic because of it.”
Tenzin’s eyes darkened. “So, I suspect this special blade of yours is the only way you can use magic? Is that why you were prepared to attack me to retrieve it?”
“Yes.” I hung my head slightly. “And sorry.”
Tenzin let out a chuckle. “No matter, my young friend, no matter. But I would still like to share a breakfast without weapons if it’s all the same to you. I promise to return your belongings after we are done and we decide where you are headed next.”
I frowned slightly. Decide where I was headed next seemed like code for ‘tell you what to do and where to go’. Still, if he wanted to hurt me, he had ample opportunity to do so. Might as well play along until I got my sword back. Then, I could play by my rules again. But for now, I had a story to recount.
32
Tenzin waited patiently until I finished my story, nodding slightly whenever I hit a dramatic moment. I found myself talking and talking, spewing the story out like water from a dam. It seemed so surreal, as if I were recounting a movie rather than my life story. A bad movie, at that. Once I got to the part about Djinn and explained how it was an heirloom from my mother, Tenzin exhaled in a long breath and got off his trunk. He took the blade out, careful to grasp it only by the parts that were covered in the blanket and handed it to me without a word. I paused for a moment just to enjoy the familiar feeling of the channel in my hands. Putting it aside, I kept on with my story.
The fish tasted delicious. Neither Tenzin nor I said a word after I finished the story and he handed me a skewered fish, cooked just right. I dug in ravenously, not caring for bones or scales. The Asian simply smiled and offered me a second fish. I muttered my thanks and devoured that, too. Tossing the skewers away, I sighed in relief – best meal ever.
“So, what now?” I asked.
Tenzin rubbed his goatee absentmindedly. “Now, I shall go into the city and wander around. I am sure Kami-sama will guide me.”
I snorted softly. I was never one for religious belief. Being raised by a demon in a house in the middle of the forest does wonders for your cynicism. It seemed stupid to me — wandering around, bumping into stuff and calling it an act of God. Sounds like something that a directionless person would do.
Yes, but where is your direction, Erik? said the small voice inside my head. Where are you gonna go?
The voice was right. I had nowhere to go, and the idea of someone or somethin
g smarter than me telling me where to go sounded good from where I was standing. Maybe God will provide for me the same way it provided for Tenzin.
Let’s just hope that God isn’t picky, said the voice.
Damn, do I hate that voice.
Tenzin seemed to read my mind. “I would be honored if you joined me for a while, Erik. It would be wonderful to have some company,” he said with his usual smile.
***
“What exactly are we doing here?” My voice was drowned amid a busy, open market. People were everywhere, some stopping abruptly to look at something in a stall. Others brushed against me, twisting my shoulders and sending me staggering. A few spoke loudly and obnoxiously on their cell phones as they weaved in and out of the crowd. Worse than them were the rude bastards who just shouted across the street to their friends.
Tenzin stopped in front of a stall, and I felt his rucksack against my chest. His fingers mused over the crate of fruit in front of him and picked up a couple of oranges. He extracted a few coins from his pocket and paid the stall owner. He then pulled me aside and handed me an orange. I stood there with a quizzical look on my face, trying to force an explanation.
“Now, we wait,” was all he said. “And eat.” His fingers dug into the orange skin and peeled the fruit.
“Eat, eat,” he insisted as he tapped my orange and took a bite out of his. I peeled the fruit and put a slice in my mouth. The fruit tasted delicious and cool. As I swallowed, warmth grew in my belly with a slight tingling sensation. I looked up at Tenzin, who chewed contentedly and winked at me. My eyes caught movement and I saw something white and opaque on the hand holding his orange. At first I thought it was a bird of sorts. It looked like a puff of smoke, with wisps of white curling around it like threads. It hopped from his palm to his forearm, its ears flopping in the air.
It was the smallest of rabbits, tiny enough to fit in the palm of your hand. It made its way along Tenzin’s arm and touched its nose to the fruit.
“The rabbit deva makes a single item of food last for the whole day in your body,” explained Tenzin. He picked up the bunny with his other hand and placed it on my shoulder. The rabbit deva wiggled its nose two inches from my eyes in that funny way that only rabbits can manage. It hopped down my arm and did its nose-waggling at my orange before disappearing into a puff of smoke.