“You understand that selfishness is for the Dark. You have felt for yourself the joy that comes from realizing that your life, though a sacrifice, saves countless others. You, although you deny it, care more for the lives of others than you do for yourself, and you know that this is the way it should be. If the people of the world did not love themselves more than everything and everyone else, there would be no darkness. If so much of humankind and Hidden kind did not believe that life is about the fulfillment of selfish and wicked desires, even at the expense of those around them, darkness would fade and light and truth would take its place.
“McLacy Allicandra, you are pure in heart, even though you do not yet see it. You have a great purpose. You must find it. You are too important.” Jonas lifted his hand. “Now, get up and come with me. It is time to give Forrest Bastian a proper farewell.” He turned and shuffled out of the tent.
Macy rubbed her hands across her face. Jonas’s words pounded through her head. If Tolen had been what he was supposed to be, Bastian would still be alive. If he hadn’t separated her from the fight, Bastian would still be alive. Every way she looked at it, Tolen’s weaknesses had caused Bastian’s death.
She shoved off from the cot, pushed her hands into her pockets, clenched her teeth, and followed the old geezer through the tent door.
A tug in her stomach, that was becoming more and more familiar, made her glance up from the ground as she neared the camp. Tolen sat on a log about fifty feet in front of her, head down, staring at his watch. He looked up, their eyes met, and he jumped up so fast he almost fell over. Macy looked away, pulled a sucker out of her pocket, ripped off the wrapper, and shoved it in her mouth.
“Macy?” Tolen asked softly.
She allowed him half a glance.
“Macy, I’m so sorry about Bastian. I—”
She waved him off, fighting the stab of pain at the mention of Bastian, and turned to Jonas. “So, where are you doing the ceremony?”
Tolen sighed and shoved his hands into his back pockets.
Jonas swung his head side to side. “Time, place, truth, lies, love, and hate; all things that make life what it is, also make it what it shouldn’t be.”
Macy looked at the ground and rolled her eyes.
“Come.” Jonas pointed deeper into camp. “The ceremonial hut is this way.”
They followed Jonas to a low wooden shanty. Macy kept tight to Jonas’s opposite side, as far from Tolen as the small walkway between tents would allow, trying to pretend he wasn’t there or, better yet, that he didn’t even exist.
She felt him slow down, allowing the space she put between them, and fought against the glimmer of pity trying to worm its way into her thoughts. The corrosive hatred toward him she’d been feeding writhed and twisted in her stomach. She clenched her teeth. Her feelings were justified.
Tolen was dangerous. Everyone he cared about ended up dead or taken by the Dark.
Jonas ducked under the low open doorway of the shanty. Macy dropped her sucker into a patch of bushes and followed in behind. Tolen nearly had to bend in half to fit. At the front of the tiny room, a small gathering of six people sat on logs in a circle with three spaces left. Jonas took the head, leaving two for Tolen and Macy. Macy hurried to the empty seat between two crotchety looking old women. Tolen sat next to a middle-aged man and an ancient looking woman. They both acknowledged him with a nod. He folded his arms on top of his knees, and stared at the floor.
Macy looked away, squared her shoulders, and turned her attention to Jonas as he started to speak.
“For thousands of years the Beings of this world have tried to make sense of mortality. What factors determine how long we should be allowed to live? Why do some who seem so young, healthy, and filled with potential, die without reason, while many aged souls live on? But only one truth explains what cannot be explained. This life is not the end. Once we pass through Light’s door, we enter into a far more glorious state—shedding mortality for immortality in the form we began in.”
All thoughts of Tolen fled Macy’s mind and suddenly the room seemed too small for all these people. Her pulse raced and sweat pooled on her upper lip. She wiped it away, fighting the urge to run.
“Those of us left behind have the greatest struggle. It is us who must learn to exist without them, go on without them. Too often we mistakenly believe we can go back to who we were before our loss, but this is not possible. We can heal, we can be strong again, but we will not be the same. We can choose to allow our loss to fill us with bitterness and anger, or we can take all those things we gained from our association with our loved one and let them mold us, help us grow into our own potential, forever grateful for the time we had.”
She had to get out of here. It hurt too much!
Jonas started to sing in the language of the Hidden. Soft, melodic, poignant, devastatingly beautiful. The desire to flee disappeared as the pain in her heart nearly dropped her to the floor. Her head fell onto her arms and she pressed her eyes shut, but she couldn’t stop the tears from pushing out the corners.
The tiny room filled with warm light that Macy could see through her closed lids. She sensed Bastian’s presence and a gentle breeze ruffled her hair, almost like a gentle touch on the top of her head. Her breath caught, she had to bite back a sob, and then the feeling disappeared. She didn’t know how much time passed before she finally looked up, but when she did, there were only three people left in the room. Jonas, herself, and Tolen.
Tolen’s eyes were fixed on the dirt floor, his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped between his legs. He seemed to be barely holding himself together. She could see it in the way he hunched his shoulders, the shallow breaths he took, and the despair that radiated from him.
She gritted her teeth and looked away from his pain, sorrow shoved away as the anger returned. He barely knew Bastian. The only excuse he had for being upset was because he felt guilty. As he should. She looked over to see Jonas staring at her, shaking his head slowly, his hands wrapped around his spindly cane. She took a deep breath and stood up.
“Tolen, it is time for you to speak to the Guardians,” Jonas said softly.
Macy started toward the door but Jonas held up his hand. “McLacy. Stay.”
“Why—” Jonas raised an eyebrow and she took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and sat back down, her hands tingling.
The room was suddenly bathed in darkness. Small pinpricks of multi-colored lights began to appear on the ceiling, walls, and floor until the entire room looked like the night sky.
“There is no beginning of Light and Dark.” The deep voice—no voices, synchronized voices—seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at the same time.
“They have always been. Worlds have been formed and destroyed. Lives have been created and obliterated. Alliances have been made and broken. Always the Light inspires. Always the Dark enslaves. You have been chosen by the Balance to fight for the Light. Two choices lie ahead for you with the greater call. Follow the road that will save both worlds, or ignore your destiny and watch them fall.
“You have been chosen, Tolen Daedal Téloran. Will you accept your destiny?” The voices faded.
“You must answer, Tolen,” Jonas whispered.
“Yes.” Tolen’s voice cracked. “I-I accept.”
Wind rushed through the room. Macy felt the joy from her Radia Shard pulse through her and she clenched her fists. We need him . . . or at least they think we do. Accept it. But her internal pep talk didn’t stop her hands from shaking.
“Your sacrifice has been accepted.” The deep voices echoed. “You are now truly a member of the Chosen Ones. The Light will guide you so long as you seek it out. Learn your purpose—ask for what you need with a pure heart and the Light will give it to you.”
The stars disappeared and sunlight filtered in through the doorway.
“What was that?” Tolen loo
ked up at the wooden ceiling that moments ago had been covered with stars.
“A communication link to the citadel. You just spoke to the Guardians.”
“I did?”
“Yes.” Jonas tapped his arm. “Wait here. Incrah will be coming to take you to meet the Dominants.”
He gave Macy a significant look and she glared back.
Jonas sighed and left.
Macy got up to leave but Tolen blocked her path. “Macy, wait. Please.”
She tried to step around him, but hunched over he completely blocked the door.
She took a deep breath. “Move.”
“Macy, please?”
She stepped to within an inch of his face—their eyes level with him bent low—anger, pain, and fear feeding the hate-monster growing inside her. “Look Tolen, just because Bastian and I found you does not mean we were ever meant to be anything but mutual acquaintances. That’s it. If it weren’t for the fact that the Light can’t win without you, I never would have put up with your crap!”
Tolen flinched and clenched his teeth, but didn’t back down. “I don’t expect you to ever forgive me for what happened and I don’t expect you to want to have anything to do with me ever again, but don’t,” he ran his hand through his hair, “don’t let your anger ruin your life.” He pointed out the door. “Jonas was right. Don’t be bitter. You had a great life with Bastian. He loved you. He’d want you to be happy.”
That’s it! “Don’t give me advice about what Bastian would want,” she spat. “You hated him, even after everything he tried to do for you. He’d still be here if you weren’t so weak!” A sliver of vicious satisfaction slithered in her gut as Tolen’s face fell.
His eyes hardened, the blue eye dilating so wide it became almost black as he lashed back. “I don’t know what I’m talking about? You are so selfish! You really think you’re the only person in the world to have ever suffered? Fine, your story is tragic and terrible, but taking it out on everyone else is b—”
Macy’s fist connected with Tolen’s jaw, all her anger driving the punch. He flew sideways into a wood beam that cracked on impact. The ceiling started to crumble over him as Macy fled, the heat building inside her no longer containable. Flames shot out of her palms and she couldn’t even care what she lit on fire as she ran into the secluded forest.
As the heat faded from her hands, Macy scrubbed the tears from her face as she ran to the seclusion of the trees. Jonas’s earlier words pounded through her head. She felt like her insides had been scooped out and all that was left was hollow space. Bastian would be disappointed in her behavior, but as much as she didn’t like the idea of disappointing him, she couldn’t stop the anger that threatened to consume her. But the thought returned that if Tolen had been what he was supposed to be, Bastian would still be alive. He would still be here fulfilling whatever mission the Light had for him.
A tiny voice in the back of her mind whispered that maybe, just maybe if they’d told Tolen his destiny he would have been prepared for what waited for them in the forest above the Binithan. That maybe it wasn’t all his fault. Maybe he really was sorry and wanted to help her face her grief.
She clenched her fists and pushed her way deeper into the trees. So what? It didn’t matter either way. Bastian was still dead and nothing could change that. The world might need the Ninth, but she personally didn’t. She’d make sure they had what they needed to train him. She would fulfill her promise and make sure he was protected, and then she would go back out and fight the Dark, on her own.
0 0 0
Tolen crawled out from under the pile of timbers and stood up rubbing his jaw.
“That girl’s got a nasty temper.”
Tolen turned to see Nova standing beside the remains of the shanty, holding a basket in one hand and pointing to a string of grass fires leading into the forest with the other. A handful of people were rushing around with buckets of water to douse the flames.
“Here.” Nova held out the basket. “Dirt said you didn’t eat the breakfast he left in your tent and thought you’d need some food before you start training.”
“Oh. Thanks.” Tolen took the basket, but he had even less of an appetite now. His heart pounded painfully in his chest and his hands shook with anger.
“So you get to meet the Dominants today, huh?” Nova watched him with her head tilted to the side, her eyes wide and curious. Either oblivious or not caring about the waves of anger flowing off of him.
Tolen passed a hunk of cheese between his hands and tried to slow his breathing. “Yeah, I guess.” He couldn’t really focus on Nova and he wasn’t in the mood for chitchat. A part of him wanted to go after Macy and force her to listen to reason, but the other part kept repeating her words. He’d still be here if you weren’t so weak!
“Aren’t you excited? I mean you’re being trained by the Dominants. I’d be on the ninth cloud.”
Tolen’s neck prickled. His anger quickly replaced with a strange sense of anticipation mixed with apprehension. “I think you mean cloud nine,” he choked out. Ninth . . . The Ninth shall lead them. The strange feeling of déjà vu he’d felt when Jonas said those words came back stronger than ever. What did it mean? He looked out the corner of his eye to see Nova watching him with her eyebrows raised. Could she know something? If she did, would she even tell him? Should he even ask her to tell him?
Be careful Tolen . . . Bastian’s warning in his head was so loud Tolen jumped.
“Are you okay?” Nova touched his arm. Tolen’s skin burned beneath her fingers and his Watcher’s eye dilated, pulling in her features. Her eyes were concerned, but there was something else in them, something elusive. She blinked and it was gone.
“I’m . . . not sure.” He walked over to sit on a log marking the path. “I think I need a second.”
“Should I go get the Houseman?” she asked, looking toward camp.
“No, I’m fine. I just want to sit for a minute.” Should he ask her?
Bastian’s voice echoed in his head again. Be careful.
Why? Why did he need to be careful? It was just a random comment. Wasn’t it?
And then he knew, knew from the pounding in his heart, the warmth of his shard against his chest, the growing need to know what this tiny little sentence meant. This was it. This was the big secret that Bastian said he wasn’t ready to know.
Tolen clenched his teeth as a surge of reckless frustration passed through him—imagined warnings or not, he was ready to know, despite what anyone else thought.
He ran his hand through his hair. “Nova, can I ask you something?” His heart pounded out a nervous rhythm in his chest.
She raised her eyebrows. “Sure.”
He took a deep breath and faltered. Nova was a follower of Light. She was beautiful and kind, but he didn’t know her. Maybe this was why he could ask her though. She would have no idea he wasn’t supposed to know . . . .
Suddenly the idea of going against Bastian’s wishes made him break out in a sweat.
“Tolen?” She was starting to look nervous. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
He chuckled anxiously and started kicking the ground with the toe of his shoe. He took a deep breath and swallowed. He needed to hurry, Incrah could show up any minute, but he wasn’t even sure how to ask for what he wanted. “Can you . . . can you tell me about—what the Ninth is?”
Her eyebrows jumped to her hairline. “You mean you don’t know the legend?”
“No.”
“W-O-W.” She mouthed the word. “Um, if you don’t know then . . . maybe . . . you’re not supposed to.”
Tolen squeezed his eyes shut. “I figured you’d say something like that.” He glanced up to see her studying his face. He looked away and she touched his chin, forcing him to look at her—his stomach gave an uncomfortable flip when their eyes met.
She sighed. “The
Ninth Chosen is a really old legend. I don’t know it word for word, but I can give you the basics. My brother used to tell it to scare me when I was little.” She dropped her hand from his chin but grabbed his hand. His heart thudded in his chest. It felt weird letting her hold his hand, but also strangely comforting.
“I’m sure you’ve been told about Light and Dark?” she whispered.
He nodded.
“The Balance?”
He nodded again.
“Good. Well, thousands of years ago during the Radia Revolution,” she glanced over, and satisfied that he didn’t look confused, went on, “before each Watcher set off after the Chosen ones, a prophecy was made by the oldest Guardian. The day would come when more Beings, including humans, would choose the ways of the Dark over Light. The Dark would become so powerful in both worlds that it would cause a collapse in the Balance. The dimensional barrier between our worlds would break down and the strength of the Light that has kept the worst of the creatures of the Dark imprisoned would cease.
“You’ve fought Raksasha and DéHool; now try to imagine something far worse, worse than every nightmare you’ve ever had, and every horror you’ve ever possibly imagined, running rampant, killing, and destroying everything they meet that stands in their way.
“The earth as we know it would no longer exist. The human race would be exterminated, the followers of Light eradicated.”
Tolen swallowed.
Nova twisted her hair around her fingers. “The Guardians had to find a way—some last chance for the good in the world. They begged and pleaded with the Light, they held council after council with the Radia Warriors, Protectors, and the Watchers.
“At a point when they feared there was no hope, the Light set one last Radia shard free. It went to the oldest Watcher in the Hidden. His name was Eamun Woodlore. Through the Last Shard, Eamun was given the prophecy of the Ninth. As the Dark grew and the Balance tipped more in their favor, the Last would select a Watcher and send its power to his Chosen shard. The gifted shard would then find a life force so pure and good that the Dark could not influence it. The Shard would then give this child a piece of every Hidden gift. These unlimited gifts would give them the strength and ability needed to unite the Chosen, as well as all fighters for Light, in a Final Battle against the Dark, for the hope of all Beings.
A Chosen Life Page 28
