Book Read Free

The Azurean Trilogy (All Three Books: 1, 2 & 3): Essentia, Burgeor & Manifest

Page 9

by Fatimah Ashaela Moore Ibrahim


  He closed his eyes and shook his head. “We may as well just lay down and let them kill us. Oh, I forgot, we already do that!! Each and every one of you know damn well that the Houdakin kidnap and kill a few folks every year—just to make their point! They are in control, and they have all of the power. They have made it very clear that they are the upper class, and that we are below them, the Inferiors. Their Inferiors. They capture and kill us if we mix with them. It's nothing but pure evil! And evil like that deserves to die!”

  Shouts from members of the Arms of Justice punctuated Janto's words. I couldn't deny that every word he spoke was true. The Houdakin were everything he said they were and worse. Frustration beat in my heart against the Houdakin. How could their hearts be so twisted?

  Father Zouadin rose from his seat. Everyone quieted in respect. “Whether we think one way or the other, the best course of action to take is to follow guidance. Only He knows what course of action is the right course of action. We just want to make sure we do what is right according to His guidance to us. I am sure that you can see the wisdom in that?”

  Janto paused. “Absolutely, absolutely, Father. But we must follow the guidance that is sent down to us as well.”

  They wanted to follow a course of violence, and were claiming to have guidance as well. What were we going to do?

  Father Zouadin spoke again, “Then let us all pray that we choose the course of action that yields fruits of the spirit. Let us pray that The Most High guide us all to the right course and allow us to work together.”

  Janto nodded his head. His shrewd eyes glistened as he weighed Father Zouadin's words. “Very well. We will be in contact.” And with that, he turned and left the room. Another AOJ member ushered us out, through the tunnels, back into the forests and then to the docks. We loaded the boat in silence, and set sail for Deloria. There was a lot to think about. It was prayer time as we set out onto the sea. Everyone settled in a quiet place for prayer or meditation. If there was a time that we needed answers, it was now.

  ~~~

  Later that evening, after everyone took time for prayers or meditations, we gathered in the middle of the boat to talk about the days events. The day had been an absolute whirlwind, and we were all exhausted and lost in our own thoughts. The question about not getting to meet the Guided Council hung in the air like a confused fog. Finally, Aziz gave our thoughts a voice. “Brother Noah, you have got to clue us in. How are we supposed to complete our mission without meeting with the Guided Council?

  Noah brought his hands together and smiled. “Yes, about that, my dear friends. Please do not be alarmed, because, you see, you've already met them.”

  Chapter 9

  O mankind! We created you from a single (pair) of a male and a female and made you into nations and tribes, that ye may know each other (not that ye may despise each other). Verily the most honored of you in the sight of Allah is (he who is) the most righteous of you. And Allah has full knowledge and is well-acquainted (with all things)

  The Holy Qur'an,

  Surah 8, Ayah 61

  We all looked at each other confused. We had already met them? How? Noah held his hands up to explain.

  “I know you all thought you were going to have a big formal meeting with the members of the Guided Council. That was the impression you were each supposed to have.”

  “Each one of you met someone during the course of our stay here who gave you words of guidance for your particular journey. You might have thought that you were just talking with them, but they were the guides assigned to you.”

  “Yaya, your guide was Elias. Aziz, your guide was Mother Natasha. The next three guides met you at the bunker. Teo, your guide was Allister, and Joelle, yours was Xiu. Hantaywee, your guide was the little girl you talked with in the kitchen, Naima.”

  “We were not able to bring them together as a group to meet you. If the Houdakin had any idea of their identities, they would be executed immediately, no matter what their age.” Noah paused a moment to let his words sink in, and I caught his meaning. No matter what their age. Of course they had to be extra protective. Some of our guides were only children.

  Noah continued, “So, we devised this plan so that their message could still reach you while minimizing the threat to their safety. You will each have to go into meditation and recall the things they said to you. You will find great comfort and wisdom in their words.”

  We were stunned. My eyes began to tear at the memory of Elias. I hadn't known that he was my Guide. I regretted not being able to thank him.

  “How did they receive the messages for us?” Hantaywee wanted to know. Her guide had only been 5 years old. Some of our guides had been very old. Some young, and some just middle aged. But after thinking about our conversations with them, our hearts knew the truth of Noah's words. It had been a very clever plan to keep them and our meeting safe.

  “The members of the High Council each received a dream with the identities of your Guides. They kept a close watch on them until those Guides each received the inspiration of the messages they were to deliver to you.”

  I nodded to myself. The High Council was established with the first settlers on Mercia. They were made up of three tribes members from Sectors 2, 3 and 4, which made a total of 9 seats. In the public eye, the High Council acted something like Senator-Judges, helping to establish tribe rules and judging cases which challenged any of the Settlement Ordinances. Now, we were finding out that they operated on a much deeper level.

  I let out a huge sigh of relief. Things didn't seem so shaky and uncertain now that we had the words of wisdom from our guides to hold onto. Now all I wanted to do was to perfect the Seeking, Pulse, and Deflect skills. I couldn't wait to make it back to Deloria.

  ~~~

  Emperor Borche stood alone in the Command Center, his face illuminated by the blue and white lights of the Halo projected image that hovered in the air above the white, polished stone conference table.

  Different areas of Deloria flashed on the left side of the screen while an army of statistics and data marched busily down the right.

  Twenty years was all that he knew, all that he had been given to work with. “Where are you?” he muttered under his breath. Knowledge of the Prophecy had been carefully passed down since the settlement, from his Great-Grandfather Emperor Tulean, to his Father Emperor Cinachon, down to him. Their oversized portraits stared down sternly at him from their perch on the wall, silently threatening him not to fail.

  “It is a very real danger and threat to us,” his Father had told him. “Should this Gifted 5 ever get a chance, they could destroy us all. Destroy our status. Destroy our very way of life.” Emperor Cinachon had gripped his young son a little too roughly by the shoulders and stared harshly into his 12 year old eyes. “It is why we don't just randomly give out Aoki. It is why we kidnap and kill a few people every year. We have to keep order! It is our responsibility. The Gifted 5 must not succeed. You must promise me that you will never let that happen. We have been elevated to our status because our superior minds have taught us how to be on top. We are the Superiors.”

  “Some people are put ahead of others for their own good. The Inferiors don't know how to strategize for themselves. Without us, they would starve and even worse, end up killing themselves.”

  “We keep the order. We keep the peace. Our wealth trickles down and becomes a blessing to them. The Gifted 5 Prophecy could change all of that! Order would be gone, our status would be gone, and they would be left to fend for themselves. Is that the kind of future you want?”

  His Father's question had drilled into his mind. All Borche had ever wanted to do was show his Father that he could continue to lead he Houdakin in a prosperity that would never end. It was better for everyone that way.

  “Father, there is wisdom in your words. I will not let my people down. This Gifted 5 will never be a problem for us.” Borche had tried to imitate the malicious and calculating tone his Father used when dealing with the Inferiors.
He hoped his Father was pleased.

  And so now here he stood, with the threat of the Prophecy at his feet. If he failed, he would be remembered forever as the weak Emperor who let the Inferiors rise up. There would be wars. There would be famine. Everything his Great-Grandfather and Father had done to make the Houdakin great would disappear, and their legacy would be destroyed. He had to do what was best for Mercia, even if not everyone knew what that was. He knew, and that was enough.

  Footsteps approached softly behind him, and he turned to see his daughter, Princess Beema draw near. He smiled internally. She was a beautiful girl, equally trained in every social grace and war tactic. As his only heir, he had spared no expense to make sure she was groomed to lead the Houdakin when the time came.

  “Father,” Beema curtsied, and bowed her head.

  “Daughter.” he answered, turning to kiss her cheek. They both stood in silence for a while, as more images flickered before them.

  Finally, Borche spoke, “Tell me, what is our Religion?”

  The years of rules and codes that had been tirelessly drilled into her mind rushed into Beema's conscious in an instant.

  “To know that there is nothing more powerful than yourself and your own ambition. To know that we create, and put things into action. To know that we, our minds, are all-powerful. To know that we are the Superiors who must rule over the Inferiors in order to maintain balance and peace.”

  Borche smiled, revealing his shiny, canine-like teeth. She would do well, very well as a leader. He questioned her again.

  “And my dear, what do you think should be done with Deloria?”

  Princess Beema studied the screen, her piercing eyes narrowing.

  She knew of the Prophecy and knew how agitated her Father was because he did not know the exact age or identities of the Gifted 5. Her mind considered different strategies, tactically eliminating them one by one.

  There was only one real solution. If people were unwilling to provide information, sometimes they needed a gentle push to help them become more.....pliable.

  She placed a hand on her father's shoulder. She refused to let anyone threaten her Father or their way of life.

  “Not everyone knows what's good for them,” Princess Beema began, “But you, my Father, care for the needs of all who reside on our Planet. You know what can bring balance, bring peace back to our lives. Sometimes, a little housekeeping is needed to restore order. ”

  Borche mused, weighing Beema's words. She was right. This was the time to be strong and make decisions that would keep all things in balance.

  Borche smiled at his daughter. He was so very proud of her. She would make a fine Empress. It was not a job for the weak minded.

  “As always, you have spoken wisely. Inform Henken that Deloria will need a bit of......cleansing.”

  ~~~

  Our trip back to Deloria went by much quicker than when we had left. I couldn't wait to see Mama and Papa again. Neither Aziz or I had heard from either of them since arriving on Boralia.

  We didn't encounter any Houdakin ships on our return trip, and I was extremely grateful, but as we arrived on the shores of Deloria, a strange uneasiness lurked in the chilly night air. My stomach began to somersault, and my mind raced to the worst case scenario. Had something happened to Mama and Papa? Had the Houdakin tried to take more prisoners? I tried to shove the thoughts out of my mind as we made our way through the Jahlian Forest, but the unsettling feeling refused to loosen its grip. I looked around to see if anyone else was feeling it too, but all I saw were smiling faces that were happy to be back home.

  Finally, we arrived at the same clearing where our Essentia had been held, but the sight that greeted us took my breath away. We stood face to face with the smoldering remains of my beloved town, which had been completely burned to the ground.

  Chapter 10

  Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.

  The Holy Bible KJV, The Old Testament,

  Psalms 23:4

  My knees gave way and I crumpled to the ground. Our group looked around in a horrified silence. Our beautiful Town Courtyard, once aglow with twinkling lights to celebrate our Essentia just nights before, was now more like a cemetery that held something more sorrowful than death.

  Columns of smoke and glowing orange embers littered the ground. There were no signs of life anywhere; no tribe members, and no guards, Delorian or Houdakin. All of the homes stared sullenly back at us with hollow, black windows and charred walls. Everything that could be burned had been. The stench of smoke and violence cut through the night and echoed the reality of what we saw. We were devastated and stunned.

  Kaisan sprang into action and motioned for us to retreat back into the forest. Father Zouadin immediately began to lead us to the secret entrance of the underground bunker.

  Once inside, the sight overwhelmed us with mixed emotions. It was filled with people from our tribe, so we were relieved that at least people were still alive. But almost everyone had some type of injury. Bandages stained with blood and soot were hastily wrapped around heads, arms and legs. Injured bodies lay stretched across a sea of haphazardly placed cotton cots. Faces were smudged with dirt and ashes, interrupted only by smears of blood and trails where tears had cut through the grime. My thoughts raced to Mama and Papa, and I desperately scanned the crowd for their faces. Aziz was doing the same thing as we all scattered to find our loved ones.

  Aziz and Kaisan ran over to me after a couple of minutes. Aziz was out of breath, a trace of panic on his face. “I don't see them anywhere here. Let's go and check the trauma rooms.”

  I clenched my teeth together, trying not to let fear take control of my body. We silently raced down the dark south corridor. O, Creator of all that exists, please, please let them be OK. I repeated the prayer over and over again until finally, we reached the end of the hallway and swung the doors open.

  White clad bodies hovered over patients with broken limbs, horrible burns, and concussions. We scanned the room frantically, and then gasped when our eyes saw Papa lying on an operating table. Mother Willoni, who was tending to him, pulled off her face mask and embraced us in a tight hug. Papa was going in and out of consciousness, his face bloody, and one eye was swollen completely shut. His good eye opened a bit when he heard our voices, and he stretched a hand out in our direction. Aziz and I raced to his side.

  “Oh, Papa,” I said, as tears slipped angrily down my cheeks. “What have they done to you?”

  “Shhhh, now” he whispered. “Don't worry about me. They took Mama. They have her. You and the Gifted 5 must go to Sector 4...you must compete your training. It's our only hope now.”

  Aziz and I looked at each other. His eyes were alight with the swirling amber-white orb, as were mine. It was game on.

  I tightened the grasp I had on my father's hand. My eyes closed as images of what had happened flashed against my lids. I was seeing what happened through my father's memory.

  The Houdakin had burned every inch of Deloria that they could. Members of the tribe had tried to defend themselves and prevent the guards from setting the fires, and had been beaten or killed as a result. Hundreds had been captured and taken to Viakee as prisoners. They had departed, but not before one of the guards had shouted, “You can tell your Gifted 5 that they should beware!” It had been a clear and personal warning. A fiery warmth spread through my body, and my teeth gritted together involuntarily.

  They must feel very afraid, I thought. They must really feel that God is coming to help us.

  And they're right.

  BOOK TWO: BURGEON

  Chapter 1

  “But whoso shall offend one of these little ones which believe in me, it were better for him that a millstone were hanged about his neck, and that he were drowned into the depth of the sea.”

  The Holy Bible KJV, The New Testament,

  Matthew 18:6

  Princess Beema
stared out the window in agitated frustration. Sheets of rain beat against the glass, blurring the landscape that lay in front of the palace doors. Usually, the view was breathtaking. The perfectly manicured lawn and bushes always seemed to sparkle as the various shades of green boasted each plants optimal health. But today, the colors muddled together like some child's watercolor painting.

  Beema spun slowly on her heel, and regarded the Inferior who was strapped to the Revealer in front of her. Her latest patient sat on the metal chair, spent and sweating. Thin wires dotted with pulsating red lights were delicately placed across her forehead and wrist. A circular white patch which was attached to a thin blue wire was affixed at the pulse point on her neck, just below her ear.

  The woman's lips were chapped, and wisps of damp hair were plastered to her forehead. Her eyes were closed, and her breath came out in short huffs.

  Every few moments, her entire form would involuntarily shiver. She was obviously terrified. Her lips moved wordlessly, and Beema guessed that she was praying. Maybe I should try a different approach with this one, she thought to herself. She brushed a swath of hair from the woman's brow.

  “Making a prayer, are you?” she said softly, letting a false intonation of comfort overshadow her words. “You know, I always wished that I knew how to do that.”

  The woman's eyes popped opened and they stared back at Beema cautiously. Beema continued.

  “You know, we could work together, you and I. All my father needs some information. If you would be willing to help me out, I could definitely make it worth your while.” She leaned over so that she could whisper into the woman's ear. “I might even be able to sneak you a leaf from the Aoki plant, perhaps? I'm sure you know someone who could benefit from that. An ailing grandmother, maybe? You could slip it to her, and she would miraculously get better. There are people who would kill for that kind of opportunity. And here I am offering it to you for free. Now how does that sound?”

 

‹ Prev