Dark Tide Rising (Book 1 of The Bright Eyes Trilogy)

by J. M. Rojas

CHAPTER 3: MESSAGES FROM THE BEYOND

  That night, Jack dreamed he was flying above Willow with the night's wind cold against his skin, ruffling his hair and clothing and stinging his eyes.

  With wildly flapping arms he propelled himself away from his house and down Hopeʼs Hill Terrace across the neighboring houses. As he flew across the rooftops he spied many silver-glowing cords that lifted far up into the sky like balloon strings. However instead of balloons at the end of the cords there were peacefully sleeping bodies of people! Some of them were running in the air on the spot as if they were being chased––although nothing could be seen chasing them. Others still were laughing and wriggling about as if invisible hands were tickling them. Jack also noticed some of the glowing spirits had drifted far away from their homes––though their silver cords were still anchoring them to their bodies in their beds––and were hugging, kissing, fighting and playing with other spirits houses down from their own. Whatever they were doing they all had one thing in common: all their eyes were tightly closed. And then Jack realised he was the only one who was awake.

  How could this be? He wondered.

  Jack suddenly found himself above his old high school. He could see some kids sitting on the oval far below him––smoking, drinking and kissing each other under the stars. He shouted down at them but they couldn't hear him. He laughed, watched for awhile and then flew away from the school and the quiet suburban streets towards the central business district. Towards the bright lights.

  The roar of car engines gradually grew louder and the lights from the buildings and cars glared up at him, drawing him closer like a moth to a candle. Jack swooped down into the busy streets, soaring above the tops of the night revelers who spilled out of the nightclubs and filled the paths in drunken, shambling mobs. He even managed to see the bar where Rowan use to work at when he first met Emily––before he steered away and began to ascend into the sky again.

  Jack flew higher and higher. He flew towards the sparse clouds that stretched across the star-studded night sky until the town became a small spec below him. He then felt himself move helplessly with the strong wind currents, his body tossed about as if he was a helpless leaf and was swept far away from the town. After a brief moment of turbulence he was in control again. Treetops blurred beneath him now, replacing the rooftops. Gradually they disappeared as well and were in turn replaced by green rolling hills and fields... then encroachment of civilization again. He was heading towards the city of Paradise.

  Then a voice spoke in his head. A voice he hadn't heard in a long time, a voice prayed he would one day hear again. His father's voice. It's deep timbre vibrated through his tiny frame, bringing up unresolved emotions of longing.

  Jack, my dear boy, do not be afraid. Thomas said. This is a dream I have planted in you. A memory I have given to James and Alora too so you can all be comforted in knowing that I have not abandoned you. And to know that the strange powers you may have already discovered you possess were passed on to you by me. Powers you cannot deny. Powers that belong to an ancient people who have survived for thousands of years. One day soon it will all make sense. You are important to me. Remember that... and remember me. Thomas' voice then began to slowly fade into an inaudible whisper, which was drowned out by the strong wind.

  “I will father!” Jack cried in response, his heart beating fast in his chest as his hands clawed desperately at the air about him in a vain attempt to grab a hold of some corporeal essence of his father. “Please don't leave. Please! Mum needs you! We need you! Please return to us––”

  Then he found himself suddenly surrounded by a swirling whirlpool of darkness and the unconsciousness of sleep swallowed him into its abyss...

  The car horn honked twice again.

  “I'm coming!” Jack called back... again. This was the first time in a long time he was late for class. He was usually ready before James and Alora. “Give me a sec!”

  “Come on dear,” Elly said to him, leaning on her walking stick in her son's bedroom doorway. She watched him hurriedly fumble with his shoe laces and frowned. “Rowan promised me breakfast with Emily at her parents' place today.”

  “Okay, okay, I'm ready,” Jack replied, leaping off his bed and grabbing his schoolbag from his chest of drawers. He quickly kissed his mother on the cheek and bolted down the hallway. “See you this afternoon! Love you!”

  “Love you too,” Elly said with her hands on her hips, watching him vanish out the front door. “Make sure you close the door behind––”

  The front door slamming cut her off. She smiled and shook her head. “Looks like its just you and me again Jinx,” the woman said to the black cat who weaved between her legs and then curled up on her feet.

  Jinx simply meowed lazily in response.

  “Your chariot awaits, O Prince of Punctuality!” Rowan said jokingly, waving his arm out of the driver's side window at Jack.

  “Very funny,” Jack replied as he opened the door to the front passenger seat. “I'm never this late.”

  “Hence the title,” Rowan said, winking at him.

  “Lets go already,” Alora piped in. “I'm going to be late!”

  “Before we go,” Jack said, turning to his little sister. “Did you put salt in the sugar pot?”

  Alora grinned deviously, then began to giggle.

  “No wonder my cereal tasted dreadful,” James complained and glared at her.

  “Same,” Jack said, but smiled cheekily at her instead.

  “That's what you get for scaring me James,” Alora said indignantly.

  “Let's go!” James bawled.

  “We're going!” Rowan replied. “But first the music good man!”

  “Oh no,” Alora complained, putting her hands on her ears and frowning.

  “Oh yes!” James laughed, his mood changing. He eagerly handed over his portable music player to the driver. “I converted the album to MP3 last night.”

  Rowan took the device and plugged it into his front dash then hit play. Suddenly the band Burning Chalice exploded from the speakers and James and Rowan began to head bang. “Let us ride into the night! With wheels of fire burning bright!” the band's singer sung with high pitched vocals over the top of fast, screeching guitars and heavy pounding drums. Jack and Alora watched in amusement as Rowan and James repeated each line of the song, whilst playing air guitar. “No one can stop us––we the immortals! No one can defeat us––we the immortals, of rock and roll!”

  Rowan slicked his hair back and accelerated down the road towards the school. Then after that, the Willow University of Technology.

  Jack was only half an hour late for his history lecture. His frantic flight up the theatre stairs to reach an empty seat at the back didn't catch the attention of the white-haired lecturer who had his back to his half-awake audience, pointing at images of Egyptian pyramids projected on a large space of wall and talking in a droning, monotone voice. His eyes were mostly on the projected slides or the textbook resting on the podium he stood behind; but occasionally he spared a brief, routine gaze at some point in the shadowed mass of faces in the theatre. His name was Professor Windgate and he looked as old as the civilisations he taught about.

  Cradling his backpack between his feet and placing his hand recorder on record, Jack folded his arms on his desk and dropped his head between them. He was asleep before the lecturer could finish saying “...ancient technology...”

  Jack was flying again. This time he was descending out of a veil of clouds that were pierced by a glaring sun above him and dropping fast towards the infinite blue ocean below. He wasn't flying, he was falling.

  “Nooo!” Jack screamed in fear, covering his face with his arms. The wind whipped ferociously through his hair and clothes as the great blue drew closer and closer like a vortex drawing him in. Then a couple of hundred feet before impact he suddenly curved away and leveled out so he was hovering above the water, heading towards a distant shoreline with the speed of the wind.

  A golden stret
ch of sand shimmered on the horizon. As Jack got closer to it, a smear of green treetops upon a high cliff began to take shape; a buffer between the clear blue sky and the yellow sand. Then distant mountains and what appeared to be white lofty towers and castle walls began to solidified from ghostly, grey shapes. Jack soon realized he was looking upon a great, ancient city that rested upon the shoulders of three mountains, overlooking a forest-covered island. Colorful flags fluttered wildly from each spire and far-reaching bridges spanned between the towers, creating walkways amongst the clouds. Giant, marble statues of warrior men and women stood in battle-poses about the walls of the city, holding spears or drawing back bows. They appeared to be initially carved out of the mountains themselves and then later added to with other materials. Even from a distance, Jack noticed that each monolith was highly detailed—etched and patterned with gold and silver and in parts studded with rare gemstones, which reflected the sun's brilliant rays. Upon even closer inspection the young man noticed that the statues were also towers themselves. Portals opened from their eyes and Jack could see specks of movement within; people he suspected. The ones that carried bows pointed them towards the endless ocean. Suspended where the arrow should be, between the string hand and the bow hand, were great marble platforms that carried bird-shaped structures made of some metal alloy. To Jack's eyes they appeared to be runways and the birds were aircraft.

  The young man was now above the vast, teaming city and the towers and bridges were flying passed him. At times he would reach out and touch their surfaces when he was near enough, feeling the gemstones bounce under his fingers as his hands passed over richly designed motifs in the stone walls that depicted aquatic themes and great battles fought long ago.

  Crowds of thousands of people filled the streets and open spaces below. They were too far away to pick out details, but their mass of colorful garbs looked like a fractured rainbow spilling out of buildings. Their collective voices a soft murmur below the wind.

  Then it occurred to Jack that he had never seen a city like this before in any of his history lessons. It looked part ancient Greek, part middle-eastern, part South American, and part south-east Asian. Like a predecessor of all the great cultures' architectural designs he had ever studied. Elegant and overwhelming...

  A great palace at the far end of the city gradually came into Jack's view, unveiled by the passing towers. Its structure was built under two kneeling giant statues who both held up a giant globe above the city. The statues were taller than all the other towers in the city and the globe itself—the highest pinnacle—appeared to be made of glass or crystal. It was transparent and winked brightly against the sun. One statue was a man and the other a woman, although she seemed slightly different from her counterpart, almost other worldly.

  An eagle wheeled into Jack's view; its cry echoing off of the city walls. With a beat of its great wings the enormous bird circled him twice then flew away, heading west towards one of the distant mountains beyond the city. Jack tried to give chase but he felt himself being drawn towards the palace. He had no control over the direction he was moving.

  Atlantis. A voice suddenly appeared in his mind. It was Jack's father. The capital city-state of Lemuria. A glimpse into this world's ancient past. It is here that you must go my son.

  “Father!” Jack cried into the wind. His arms flailing to turn himself about and find the speaker.

  This is where events changed our history forever. Jack's father seemed oblivious to his attempts to communicate with him and Jack quickly assumed that this was a prerecorded telepathic message. There would be no communication between them. A war that would end us all. A war against the Rama Empire to the east. Their theft of the Crown of Dreams would be the key to our undoing. The Crown of Dreams is a powerful device. Once kept in Atlantis' High Palace, in the Chamber of Sleep beneath the statues of the World Bearers; now it is hidden. You must find it my son. Find it and destroy it. There is, however, only one man who can help you do that. A friend of mine who saved many of our people from extinction. A hard-jawed, stern face appeared in the sky above him; laces of light tracing its outline like a constellation. A deep scar down his left cheek to the tip of his chin stood out as his most defining feature. Aramathaeus—he will come for you. Trust him as you would me. Trust him to unlock the memories I have left deep within your subconsciousness. Trust him...

  Then Jack heard a deep rumbling, followed by explosions like canon fire fill the crisp, morning air. The face vanished under the glare of the sun, suddenly blinking through the clouds, and the young man realised that he had stopped moving. He turned towards the sound and spied one of the bird-shaped aircrafts he had seen earlier shoot off of an arrow-shaped runway, leaving a streak of light behind them. The thing had wide wings like the eagle that had flown by and there were glass domes where the eyes should be. Cockpits for its pilot, perhaps.

  The bird-ship flew around a nearby tower before wheeling towards him. Jack froze in awe. To see a modern flying machine used by an ancient civilisation seemed outlandish, impossible. Then as it got closer to him the awe turned to fear when he noticed the ship wasn't changing course or slowing down.

  He couldn't move. Jack thrashed his body about in a futile attempt to get out of the bird-ship's path. Then before he could scream it flew right into him and everything went black.

  “Jack!” A familiar voice exploded out of the engines of the bird-ship. “Class is over, man.”

  “Huh?” Jack said to the vague outline of a person standing over him. The mist of his dream was evaporating to reveal the lecture theatre once more.

  “You slept through Professor Windgate's entire lecture,” a sandy-blonde haired teenager with an eyebrow ring said to him from the neighboring table; he was putting his textbooks in his bag. “That's a first. Geez man, you look dead.”

  His name was Caleb and he was Jack's best friend.

  “Oh, Caleb,” Jack replied, wiping the sleep out of his eyes and folding his arms on his table so he could bury his head between them again. “I feel it. Late night.”

  “Oh right.” Caleb spoke in his usual, slightly bored tone. He spared a moment from his book packing to wink at a passing girl. “Hey, Laura.”

  The girl––whose text books were almost sliding out from under her grasp––glared indignantly at him, then scurried off with a group of her whispering friends.

  “Late nights? You never have those. What's up with that?” Caleb attempted to sound interested whilst he smiled brashly at the group of girls.

  “Well, I––” Jack lifted his head up to answer his rambunctious friend, but decided against it. “I don't know. Bad dreams, I guess.”

  “Dude,” Caleb laughed, grabbing Jack by the shoulder and pulling him to stand up. “Enough of the nightmares. Your dad isn't a zombie, and your mum won't be getting cybernetic legs to become a cyborg. You need to chill.”

  Jack stood up with his friend's grip still on his shoulder, pocketed his recorder and picked up his bag. “Those were when we were in the ninth grade, man. These dreams are different.”

  “How different? I'm sure they're no different then when you found out Santa Claus wasn't real.”

  “Caleb. Seriously.”

  “Okay, okay,” his friend laughed, then pulled his smile down with his fingers to show a straight face. “Seriously—what?”

  “They have to do with my dad, but it is as if he is trying to send me a message. You know, from the other side.”

  “Man, what have you been smoking?”

  “I'm telling you the truth, Caleb. I can't explain it. It feels so... real. I mean, it is like he is trying to communicate. But, I guess its mingled in with all these strange scenarios and places—”

  “What places?”

  “Ah, you don't want to know.”

  “Try me. You actually have me interested now. And you know how hard that is with me. I am never interested in anything.”

  Another cute girl passed by, catching their attention.

  �
��Unless its her,” Caleb said loudly so she could here. Jack shook his head. The girl smiled and kept walking.

  “See, that's so typically you.”

  “What? What is?” Caleb feigned shock.

  “You're too into yourself and too superficial to really want to know what's really going on. You want the quick fix, the next big party. The next hot girl. I can't take you seriously half the time. If ever.”

  “Dude, you're breaking my heart.”

  Jack turned to leave.

  “Okay. Okay! I'm sorry. Tell me everything.”

  Jack turned and faced his best friend. They'd known each other since kindergarten. They'd been through everything together: school, first girlfriends, and more. Best friends until the end, they had once said. Jack hung his head down as if in thought. His eyes glowed a soft white and his mind projected into Caleb's thoughts, searching for his feelings. He was telling the truth.

  “You know,” Jack smiled, blinking the white light away and looking up to face Caleb again. “You're the only one who can say my dad is a zombie and mum is a cyborg and get away with it.”

  “Hey,” Caleb said in his cocky, charming voice. “Its me.”

  Both teenagers laughed.

  “Going somewhere Mr Denison,” Professor Windgate said to Caleb as they were about to walk out of the lecture theatre. They were the last to leave.

  “Mr Windgate, erm, I mean, Professor Windgate,” Caleb fumbled his words and turned to face the white-haired man who was still standing behind the podium. “That assignment, right?”

  “Yes,” the old man replied in his monotone, unamused voice. “That assignment. It is two weeks late, Mr Denison. When can I expect that paper on my desk?”

  “Um, tomorrow! I promise, first thing tomorrow morning. I will be here before the crack of dawn. Before the cleaners get here even. And the assignment will be the best thesis you have ever read.”

  The professor raised an eyebrow.

  “Well, not as great as any thesis you have ever written. But you will love it. I promise. Absolutely love it.”

  With each empty-promise and flattering word, Jack and Caleb edged their way towards the door.

  “Mine—” Jack chimed in.

  “Your assignment on ancient architecture was brilliant, Mr Grey. I have a feeling you will be chosen for post-studies after your graduation.”

  “Thank you sir.”

  Professor Windgate nodded. “Both of you lads have a good day. I'll be sure to ask the cleaners in the morning if Mr Denison found my locked office okay.”

  Both friends laughed and hurried through the door and out of the theatre.

  “That's freaky!” Caleb half-shouted.

  Jack hushed his friend. “Dude, keep it down. I don't want people to think I'm weird.”

  “I already think you're weird,” the sandy-blonde teenager laughed. “That's why I'm friends with you. You get my sense of humour.”

  They were standing at a bus stop in front of the university. The evening sun was a melting orange blur over the rooftops of the town. “But seriously,” Caleb continued, “You have been obsessing over your ancient history assignment for months. Reading all those books on old architecture has really affected your noggin.”

  “Its not the assignment.”

  “I'm telling you man, you should have taken architecture or engineering instead of history and art. You love buildings. An unnatural love for buildings.”

  “Its not that. I mean seriously, who dreams of Atlantis and their dead father talking to them. Atlantis of all things! A mythological city!”

  “Keep your geek-talk down,” Caleb said, eying a couple of girls sitting on the bus bench. One of them—a blonde girl from his Music History class—gave him a cheeky look over her textbook. “Any mention of fantastic locations or magical creatures will ruin my reputation.”

  “I thought you said you like my weirdness.”

  “In small doses.”

  “Will you be serious for just one second. Geez, its like I'm talking to myself.”

  “So this,” Caleb lowered his voice, “Atlantis... why did your father want you to go there anyway? I mean, if we believe the myths and legends, wasn't Atlantis sunk? You would have to go under the sea to find it, which I've heard hundreds of people have already tried.”

  “I don't know.”

  The bus suddenly pulled up and the conversation of Jack's dreams came to an end.

  “Well, this is me,” Caleb said jokingly in a girly voice, reaching in for a kiss.

  “I'll catch you tomorrow,” Jack laughed, fending his friend off.

  “See you later, man. Ciao!”

  Caleb stepped onto the bus and began chatting up the girls who were getting onboard, too. Jack laughed softly to himself and waved to his friend, watching the bus lurch off down the road.

  Jack heard a muffled buzz sound from his pocket and pulled his mobile phone out, looking at the time.

  6:30 PM.

  A new text message read: Okay. Well call me if you change your mind. Mum is worried you won't make it in time for dinner before I have to go. Catch you soon, bro. It was from Rowan. Jack had sent a message to his half-brother earlier in the day, asking him not to pick him up after he'd finished uni as he wanted to walk home. He wanted thinking time, and lots of it.

  The walk home was about twenty minutes. Sighing, he started to walk.

  Across the road, hiding under the shadow of a crop of trees, stood a young woman. Her eyes were glowing white in the encroaching dark of night and her thoughts were projected outwards in search of danger.

  Layla started to follow Jack.