The Source- Origins

by A J Witt

  * * *

  “Throw it, boy!” the blond man yelled.

  Little Edvon gasped as the pip went soaring up high. The loudmouth sprinted around the pool before pulling onto the third railing and launching himself above the water. He managed to spectacularly divert the ball toward a teammate who passed it along for the easy triple out.

  Lecarn emerged from the pool. “Throw it, boy!” The crowd was loving it, egging him on. He gave high-fives while pausing for shadow time, then switched sides. His teammate, a young man with a hazel right eye and blue left eye, stepped up to the wall first. The ball fell in the water.

  “Hit!” shouted the spectators.

  Next came Lecarn, and he slid a clever throw underneath the front railing, narrowly avoiding a blocker’s kick. The baqua player brought a finger to his lip, swiveled toward the crowd, and waved his bright-red glove around while strutting backward to the scoring circle. They would score many more runs, each increasingly fascinating to the little Adept.

  * * *

  It was ironic that Edvon had always wanted to meet the blond player. I think he might be standing right in front of me. The memory came from such a distant past that, perhaps, he was mistaken. Nonetheless, the similarities were striking.

  “Are you from Phaidros?”

  Lecarn turned to face him. “Why do you ask?”

  “I think I remember you playing baqua when I was a kid.”

  “So what?”

  “I … I don’t know,” said Edvon. “Small Dominion, I guess.”

  “It’s not that big of a place, trust me. I’ve sailed around it multiple times. We’re bound to run into a few people more than once.”

  The Adept remained silent.

  “But yes, I used to play baqua quite a bit. Gods, that was a while ago. And what a team we had. I take it you’re pretty good yourself?”

  “At baqua?”

  The bounty hunter nodded.

  “I’m okay,” replied Edvon. “Not a professional or anything.”

  “Forget that. The pro-leagues are for rich brats like me.”

  “So you’re a Noble?”

  “Not anymore.”

  “What does that mean?”

  Lecarn took his time in answering. “I gave it up for something better.”

  “Huh?”

  “You wouldn’t understand, kid.” Sighing, the once-Noble cut short the conversation. “Let’s go back, there’s little time left in the day.” Stepping on a charred timber, he led the way toward the parked SPC.

  The soil was pitch-black, leaving stains on Edvon’s shoes that would probably never rub off. The Adept could barely tell where the houses used to stand, as if nothing had ever been there in the first place. Gods, this is bad. The others were already waiting for them at the meeting point.

  “So?” asked Lecarn.

  “We estimate the village was destroyed a week ago,” said Wick.

  “More than a week ago,” added Xavier.

  “That long?” Lecarn rubbed his forehead. “There could be dozens of these we don’t know about.” He turned to Fionne. “Was this town on our list of potential targets?”

  “Yes, third one down.”

  “At least our methodology’s right, we just arrived here a bit too late.”

  “Seems that way,” Fionne replied.

  “Fine. Then, we move on as planned. Anything else?”

  “Yes,” said Xavier. “Might be worth mentioning the lack of bodies.”

  “Like the other villages?”

  “Correct.”

  “Gods,” mumbled Lecarn. “Okay, we need to get moving. Tuka and Jasper are waiting.” The engine sparked as he accelerated onto the open road, and they went flying, leaving behind a wasteland from which even the toughest scavengers would struggle to extract any use.

  Their destination still several hours away, the riders had ample time to fraternize, though one of them harbored little interest in talking. Kyran glanced at Sabine who was again ignoring him. The young man cursed under his breath, unsure how they had reached such an impasse. It developed after a harmless argument.

  * * *

  “You think that was easy!” Sabine exclaimed. She was standing with Kyran at the far edge of the destroyed village, away from the others. “That captain tried to rape me.”

  “I didn’t say he didn’t.”

  “And then, I had to act like some prostitute in front of a Battalion agent.”

  “No one told you to do that.”

  “I can’t believe you.”

  “Why are you always the victim?” shot back Kyran. “You too were in the dungeons, if I remember correctly.”

  Sabine stared at the Adept for several seconds before walking away. He called after her, but she ignored him and disappeared from sight.

  * * *

  Kyran cringed as he relived the incident, and he kicked the back of the bench in front of him.

  “What the cholee, you little runt!” snapped Xavier.

  The young Adept was in a particularly foul mood. “Shut up, you Dread Shepherd.”

  Xavier turned around. “Excuse me?”

  Out of nowhere, Gavin erupted into laughter. Given how little he spoke, the old man’s outburst caught them off guard, providing relief to the growing tension.

  Lecarn seized the opportunity to change topics. “So, who do you think is responsible for the attacks?”

  “Definitely the Temple,” replied Edvon. “It’s obvious.”

  “How?”

  “They have the most to gain from it.”

  Fionne shook her head. “I’m not so sure.”

  “You can think what you want.”

  “Just consider the facts, Edvon. Politics are pretty simple in Phaidros. Sure, Nobles turn a blind eye to the Source because of its many benefits. But don’t think that many don’t end up supporting the Temple anyway. And Noble support is all the confidante needs to run her agenda. Who cares what the masses are saying?”

  “The masses can create change.”

  “Where do you think you live!” exclaimed Fionne. “The books you’re reading at the Academy forgot to tell you that never happens. We live in a society governed and enjoyed by the few. It’s incredible. Nobles wearing jewelry around their wrists worth more than people’s lives.” She paused. “Though, you know the one benefit? When material things are irrelevant, it makes life perfectly clear.”

  “Yes,” Lecarn pointed to his head, “and all that matters is your brain.” Everything had changed in his life after meeting Fionne. The old woman had affected him in many positive ways, both intellectually and intimately. And then came Zoel. It had happened so seamlessly between the three of them, they soon became a triad. Bounty hunters by trade, they lived on the road, taking odd jobs and building their team. Lecarn had never been happier.

  He was also getting hungry, as were the others, so they stopped for food in a small outpost near the base of a tepui. They ate a simple yet invigorating vegetable soup and freshly-baked bread. Edvon chewed slowly and deliberately. He picked one of the large green leaves floating at the top of the soup. Bringing it up to his mouth, he swallowed the vegetable whole.

  “I’m surprised you haven’t yet asked what you’re here for.” Lecarn was in between bites of his own. “It’s not like I gave Elias much detail on the job.”

  “You suspect the Source is involved in these attacks, and therefore, you want some Adepts in your crew.” Edvon slurped down another mouthful. “Seems pretty clear to me.”

  Lecarn grinned. “Something like that.”

  It was quite late when they reached Tuka, hours after it had already turned dark. Lecarn parked the SPC on the outskirts of town, and the group unloaded the gear. Each member moved fast and efficiently, knowing exactly what task to accomplish. Wick hammered in the pegs from where the row of tents could be erected. Fionne and Zoel installed the table and chairs. In a quickly built fire pit, Xavier and Gavin had already managed to kindle a flame. Using it to spark the ends of two t
orches, Lecarn hung them on both sides of the camp. The brothers and Sabine quietly watched the sequence of activities.

  Once they had finished, Lecarn addressed the group. “We’ll need to share sleeping space.”

  Wick kindly volunteered. “I’ll go sleep in Xavier’s tent, and two of you can have mine.”

  “Thank you,” said Sabine. “Edvon and I will take that one.”

  The younger brother could feel his blood boiling.

  “Great.” Lecarn’s next suggestion went over poorly. “Kyran, you can share with Gavin.”

  Glancing at the surely perverted old man, the Adept shook his head. “I don’t think so. I’m going to stay at an inn.”

  “What inn?” snapped Edvon. “And with what coins?”

  Kyran tried to bluff his way out. “I’d like some of my pay from this job up front.” He kept a straight face and stared at Lecarn, praying to the Gods that a pay was even in the works.

  “Fine.” The bounty hunter tossed him a small leather sachet from his belt. “Do as you wish, there’s an inn in the center of Tuka. We’ll pick you up early tomorrow morning on our way to Jasper.”

  With a conciliatory gesture, the young Adept walked away. Edvon, committed to the promise he had made to Marrek, rushed after Kyran, catching up to him as he stepped onto Tuka’s main street. They proceeded without talking all the way to the inn, somewhat aware that Sabine was following. Kyran pushed the door open and came face-to-face with one of the vilest looking women he had ever seen. She was not deformed or disfigured but discharged a noxious energy.

  “Will you be quiet?” Stakel snapped. “Guests are sleeping.”

  Kyran was confused. “We haven’t even said anything.”

  “Are you here for a room?”

  “Three rooms.”

  “That’ll be nine coins.”

  “Just take it out of here,” the Adept said, tossing her Lecarn’s pouch.

  Stakel sniffled before snatching three keys from behind the counter. She led them up the stairs, walked down the hallway, and opened a first door. Sabine disappeared inside.

  “You’re in 10,” croaked the caretaker, pointing at another room.

  Edvon bid them good night.

  “What about me?” asked Kyran.

  “At the end of the hallway, 6.”

  In number 7, Ruan and Neeta were doing it geega-style.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  It originated in a dimly lit chamber, where four mortals relied on a God’s aura to find their way. They were visibly nervous mostly because none of them were supposed to be there. Meeting a resident of the Red City was rare. What they were about to do, however, transcended mere formality. Their meeting would shape the course of history.

  According to the Book of Provenance, Cholee was the first to break the silence. His words were memorialized in infamy. “Take It.”

  And the four mortals did so without a second thought. So began the events that led to our castigation. The only passage more notorious than the one Sabine had just read for the hundredth time was the resulting punishment. Not our shackling to the Dominion. Rather, Cholee’s punishment. For having bestowed upon us the knowledge of It. Sabine flipped forward several pages, until finding the line she was searching for. “And he was bound to eternal flight, forever in limbo.”

  They said Cholee could still be seen outside the walls of the Red City, flying upward to return home. Ironic, since he winged his way past the responsibilities of a celestial being. Sabine heard a soft knock. She closed the inn’s copy of the Book of Provenance, returned it to the nightstand by her bed, and looked through the peep hole. Holding her breath at the sight of Kyran’s slim figure, she cracked open the door.

  “You’re still up?” he whispered.

  “Well, I am now.”

  Kyran turned around. “Sorry, I didn’t mean …”

  “No, it’s okay.” Though still angry with the Adept, Sabine also felt an urge to see him. “What do you want?”

  “I … I just don’t like how it ended between us earlier today,” he explained. “I didn’t mean to argue with you, and … and I—” Kyran twiddled his thumbs. “I’m sorry.”

  The young woman remained quiet.

  “I guess that’s all I wanted to say.” He was about to leave.

  “Can I tell you what really happened?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Why I was in the Temple’s dungeons.”

  “Of course you can.”

  “Okay … but if I let you in, do you promise you won’t—” Sabine hesitated, “—try anything?”

  Kyran nodded. “I promise.” He shut the door and sat on the bed next to her.

  “When I was just a child,” she said, “my parents sent me to Phaidros to join the Temple. I never got to know them well. They were farmers, toiling in the soil from dawn to dusk, and they didn’t have time for a little girl in their house.” She looked up toward the ceiling, contemplating whether to continue. “Or the money for an extra mouth to feed. Anyway, when I first arrived at the Temple, everything seemed so strange. But the more I embraced my study of the Book of Provenance, the more I enjoyed it. I made friends, and I trained to become a teacher, spending time at local schools in Phaidros to share the knowledge I had acquired in my classes.”

  Sabine paused, twirling a mesh of hair between her lithe fingers. “Only weeks ago, I passed my closing exams, earned the white robe, and became a cadet, and—” She shook her head. “Why am I telling you this? You don’t care, it’s boring and—”

  “I do care,” Kyran cut in.

  “Okay, fine. Like I was saying, I became an Overseer, achieving a lifelong dream of mine. For years, I had looked up to my teachers, to their knowledge and wisdom, and now, I was among them. I couldn’t believe it, I was so happy. And then came the proudest moment of my life. At my graduating ceremony, the commandant herself made an appearance to congratulate me.”

  Kyran gave her a skeptical look.

  “You dumb boys don’t understand anything,” replied Sabine. “The commandant is like a God to the women of the Temple. Phaidros is a city dominated by men. Your preceptor is a man, the Academy’s highest officers are men, the most important Nobles are men, the richest merchants are men.” She stopped to catch her breath. “For a woman to lead one of the most powerful institutions, you … you just can’t understand what that means.”

  “I understand,” Kyran offered sympathetically.

  “No, you don’t. When Rex Ruga smiled and told me that my future was bright, it meant everything to me.” Her eyes welled up with tears.

  “What happened?” Kyran asked.

  “I didn’t realize that … that she was smiling at me for a different reason. Later that week, she ran into me in a hallway. Before I could say anything, she pushed me against the wall, saying she’d been lusting for me ever since the graduation. I tried breaking away, but she was too strong. She reached down and … put her hand under my dress, caressing my leg. I panicked, I didn’t know what to do … what to think. So I slapped her as hard as I could across the face.” Again, Sabine took a long breath. “But … but that didn’t do anything, it only aroused her more, I suppose. She pinned me to the wall. I felt so helpless. Her face looked wild, like a madwoman. I wanted to scream, and nothing came out. I thought for sure I would die in that hallway, after she had finished with me.”

  Kyran remained motionless and quiet.

  “Before anything else could happen,” continued the young woman, “a group came from around the corner. They stopped in their tracks when they saw the commandant and me. She changed the narrative and yelled for help.”

  “What?”

  “She lied through her teeth, Kyran, telling them I accosted her in the hallway.”

  “And they thought she was telling the truth?”

  “Well, she showed them her red cheek from where I had slapped her. That’s all they needed to accept her story. No one knew what actually happened, even after I explained it to the
m. I mean, who believes a young Overseer like me against the word of the commandant herself?”

  They sat in silence.

  “I can’t believe it,” Kyran muttered. The Adept cracked a smile upon realizing his poor choice of words. “No pun intended,” he added.

  Rather than angering Sabine, the light-hearted comment made her giggle. “You’re so stupid.”

  “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it.”

  “How many apologies am I getting from you tonight?”

  Kyran shook his head. “I don’t know.”

  They could hear light raindrops tapping the glass window.

  “Well, I don’t know what will happen,” said Sabine. “Everything was ripped away from me, so suddenly and … I … I just don’t know.”

  At that moment, the old Source-powered lamp flickered.

  “Again?” The young woman sighed. “It’s been doing that all night.”

  “It must be low on energy.”

  “Yes, that’s why I’ve always preferred candlelight.”

  “Candles also run out,” countered Kyran.

  “That’s true.” Sabine walked to the lamp, bringing it down to a lower setting.

  Kyran’s heart stopped when she turned to face him. As much as the Adept wanted to yank Sabine toward him and kiss her perfect lips, he remained true to his word.

  “Why?” wondered the young woman as she resettled herself onto the bed.

  “Why what?”

  “Did this happen to me?”

  “Oh, come on, that’s pretty obvious.”

  “Really?”

  “Because you’re beautiful.”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “I know what you meant,” said Kyran. “I wanted to compliment you anyway.”

  Sabine’s pupils darted around as she considered the young man sitting beside her.

  “Sometimes,” he added, “I think we just get unlucky.”

  “This isn’t about luck. It’s about … I don’t know … I just hate them.”

  Kyran relayed a sage lesson Marrek had taught him long ago. “You shouldn’t let one bad person ruin the good experiences you had at the Temple.”