Rebirth (Legends of the Kilanor Book 2)

by Jared Stone

  “I’m really sorry, man,” said Blake quietly. “He seemed like a good guy, even though I could tell that Zagan really hated him. I kinda feel like it’s my fault he’s gone….”

  Lucian locked eyes with his ashamed roommate. “No! Don’t feel that way. There was nothing you could’ve done,” he insisted. Then, thinking back to the way in which Blake had gained control over his own body long enough for Gus to cut off the possessed golden coin, he added, “Actually, you fought back as hard as you could….”

  In the uncomfortable silence which followed this assertion, Lucian realized he was still curious about something. “How did you manage to regain control, anyway?” he asked.

  Blake shook his head. “I don’t know, man,” he said. “I could hear what you were saying, but I had no control over myself still. But, then you said that thing about my mom coming to the dorm and crying, and I just…, I don’t know, I just got super pissed. Somehow, all that anger built up, and soon I started to have feeling in my body again. But, right about that time, your buddy, Argus, cut the coin off my neck; then everything just went black.”

  Lucian found himself nodding, thinking back to his training at Deer Park with Gus and the enlightened master, Panhavant, and the warnings he received about the dangers of relying upon anger for power. Although such emotions could help him generate his spiritual energy quickly and powerfully, the long-term effects could also lead him down a path of wrong understanding. Eventually, if this distorted view of reality remained uncorrected, there was the potential to end up as vengeful and misguided as the demon they had just worked to vanquish.

  There was a long break in the conversation as the two boys lost themselves in thought. Finally, Blake cut through the silence. “So, now what?” he asked Lucian.

  “Well,” Lucian said after a moment’s pause, “I think you just need to rest up and get better! I’m sure you’ll get out of here soon and can head back home again. Don’t worry about anything; I’ll take care of the masked man!” He then forced a smile onto his face in an effort to appear as confident and supportive as he could, despite his doubts.

  Blake let out an indignant snort and shook his head. “There’s no way I’m letting you do this all on your own,” he stated resolutely. “I caused most of this mess, and I’m not just gonna run away now and make you clean it all up! I might not have freaky superhero powers like you, but I know stuff that could help.”

  “But, don’t you just wanna go home and take the semester off?” Lucian asked. “You’ve had such a rough couple of months; plus, you can’t start up classes til next semester anyway. Just take a break til January.”

  “No way,” Blake retorted with a fervent shaking of his head. “You and me are gonna figure this out together! As soon as I can, I’m coming back to campus and helping you out!”

  Although Lucian thought this was perhaps not the best idea, given Blake’s recent brush with death, he also felt a twinge of relief. Any help was good help, and he had a feeling that he would need more than himself and his new friend, Willow, if they were to succeed. With Gus now gone and Panhavant proven unreliable at best, Lucian had few other people to whom he could turn.

  “Well, for now, just focus on resting,” Lucian said. “When you’re feeling better, we’ll chat about what to do.”

  “Deal,” Blake said, finally cracking a tentative grin. Then, as if he was bashful, he looked down again at his hands and let the smile fade.

  “I bet your mom and dad are really happy you’re alright!” Lucian said, consciously changing the subject to something more uplifting.

  Blake’s face lost any of the miniscule appearance of joy it had once held. “He’s not my dad,” he stated defensively. “He’s my stepdad. Married my mom last year.”

  “Oh…,” said Lucian, unsure of how to respond to that. “Well, they both seemed really upset when you went missing.”

  “Eh,” said Blake with a shrug and disgruntled tilt of his head to the side. “He doesn’t care; he barely even knows me. My real dad left when I was a baby; it’s just been me and my mom my whole life. He can’t just butt in and pretend to be my dad all of a sudden!” The boy then clenched his fists atop the hospital bedding before him, with white knuckles showing prominently as the skin was stretched over them tightly.

  Lucian just stood in silence. Aaaaaawkward…, he thought to himself. Why is he sharing all of this with me? It seemed to him that the sudden flare of rage within his roommate was inappropriate, given the situation, but he thought yet again of all that he had just gone through and tried to be understanding.

  “Well, good thing your mom has you back safe and sound, then!” Lucian finally added.

  “Yeah…,” was all Blake had to say in response, fists slowly loosening again.

  Following yet another lull in conversation, Lucian exclaimed, “Well, I should probably go! You need your rest, and I have some stuff to get done for my classes tomorrow.”

  Blake looked up at Lucian once again. “Thanks for coming,” he said with a forced smile. “My mom had to go and couldn’t stay here with me anymore; she’s got two jobs she’s gotta work still. So it was nice to have some company.”

  “Definitely!” said Lucian, smiling back. “And you already have my number from the roommate pairing email, so just text me when you’re coming back to school, okay?”

  “Yeah, totally,” Blake responded.

  “Well…, bye!” said Lucian with a wave. Turning, he quickly walked out of the hospital room and down the hall. That could have been a smoother exit…, he thought to himself.

  * * *

  Lucian crawled into bed that night, exhausted and disheartened by the recent revelation that the danger and heroic obligations facing him were not yet over. As he rolled onto his side and glanced through the darkness at the empty bed next to his, he found himself wishing that he could have just been granted a normal college life, rather than the stuff of fantasy adventure tales that currently tormented him. He breathed out a sigh and closed his eyes, quickly slipping into a slumber fraught with dreams.

  Before long, Lucian began to hear a scraping sound coming from very close by. He sat up in bed, alarmed and disoriented. The black room around him seemed fuzzy and vague, and it took him a moment to locate the source of the disturbance. Silhouetted against the light of the moon, he could make out a small, dark figure sitting upon the desk next to his bed. Seeing that Lucian was now awake, the shadow leapt across the room, a twinkling crystal pendant swinging in its mouth, and escaped out the open window. Realizing that the creature had just stolen Gus’ necklace, Lucian flipped back his covers and ran to the window; but whatever was there had already rapidly scurried away. Lucian peered out the window to the ground, catching in his sight a quick shadow diving into the bushes below.

  “I can’t let it get away!” he stated resolutely to himself. He stuck one leg out of the window and ducked down to let his whole body through. Once outside, he tightly gripped onto the brick siding of the building and shimmied his way down from the second floor to the ground below. As soon as his first foot touched the grass, he once again saw the shadow dart away from the bushes and down the road.

  “Get back here!” Lucian cried out, taking off into a run after it. He could now see the small black blur racing down the path in front of him, and he sprinted as fast as he could to catch up. However, the grass was surprisingly wet and slick under his feet, and Lucian found that he could not make the progress he wished without risking falling flat on his face. All through campus they ran: past the ugly student dining hall, past the decrepit Religion Department, past the red door of Willow’s row house. As they went farther and farther, Lucian started to not recognize where he was. He now sensed that he was far from campus, in a place he had never been before.

  Lucian immediately stopped running, forgetting all about the stolen necklace in favor of figuring out where he had ended up. He looked around him and saw nothing but trees: big, dark trees that seemed to glare at him menacingly. He was
overwhelmed with the sensation that he was being watched – as if someone expected him to do something important. Something that he absolutely had to do, for no one else possessed the ability to do it. But he didn’t know what. He soon became very uncomfortable, wondering how he had gotten to where he was and how to once again get out. He looked behind him and saw a bright green clearing between the dark, foreboding trees.

  Anxious to get back home and into bed, Lucian headed in the direction of the light. As he stepped into the clearing, the ground beneath him became warm and dusty, with the wet grass giving way to sunbaked earth. On the other side of the clearing, through the shafts of light raining down, he noticed some rocks standing vertically out of the ground. He approached the one closest to him and looked down.

  Lucian stared, stunned, at what he saw. What he thought had been a rock only moments before now turned out to be a tombstone. And there, written in big, bold letters across the front, was the name GUS.

  Lucian stumbled back in alarm. As if someone had suddenly flipped a light switch, the sunshine that once lit the clearing immediately vanished, and in its place remained only an ambient blue glow emanating from the tombstone. The earth began to tremble beneath the boy’s feet, and he fell down to the ground, landing hard in a seated position. From the tombstone, a crack formed in the earth, splitting the dirt into two and shooting up beams of blue light. From the depths of this crevice, a skeletal arm shot up, clawing at the sky. Lucian let out a scream and desperately crawled away backwards, wildly shuffling his hands and feet.

  Without warning, Lucian felt himself tumbling into the open earth, enveloped by pulsating blue light. He fell endlessly through the empty void, terrified and certain he was about to die.

  “Do not fear,” said a deep, comforting voice from out of the vacuous space around him. “I am here to help all of you.”

  Lucian felt his descent begin to slow as the blue light slowly gave way to a warm, white glow. He felt his feet gently touch the ground, and he once again stood firmly upright. Looking around him, he saw stones piled on top of one another in lines, as if he stood among the ruins of an ancient city. In the distance, he could see a lush green countryside stretching out for miles, and he stood atop it all, as if on a mountain.

  “Where am I?” Lucian asked aloud.

  “Home,” said the same, soft voice from behind him.

  Lucian turned. Before him stood a man, roughly Lucian’s height, with long, straight silvery-white hair. He was dressed in a white robe under which his muscular figure was easily visible. Over his face he wore a golden mask which obscured all his features from view.

  “You!?” Lucian exclaimed in alarm as he took a step back.

  “There is so much you do not know, Lucian…,” said the man peacefully. He took a few steps closer toward the shocked boy. “Let me enlighten you….”

  Lucian had the fleeting sensation that he should run, but this was quickly cast aside by a wave of serenity and relief. The soft tone and soothing words of the stranger in the mask proved too seductive, and the boy stood there, planted to the spot.

  “I shall help you leave this place,” continued the masked man. “I shall help you all….”

  He held out his hand, beckoning for Lucian to take it and follow him out of this world of fear and confusion and loss. Lucian reached out….

  Lucian sat up in bed with a cry, gasping heavily and sweating profusely. All around him, the room was dark and silent, and it was clearly late enough at night that everyone in the dorm had already gone to bed. Once he had caught his breath and calmed himself, he slowly lay back down. His dreams had been getting longer and more vivid over the past few weeks than they had ever been before, and Lucian only knew one thing: he did not appreciate it at all.

  “Stupid dreams…,” he whispered reassuringly to himself as he once again closed his eyes.

  * * *

  Night had already fallen upon the land when Samael finished what he had to do around the city and returned to the brick mansion on the hill. He was pleased that, although Blake had unexpectedly survived the demonic possession of his body, the boy seemed to not remember anything. At the very least, Blake did not realize that his friend and leader of his fraternity, Sam, was in fact Samael in disguise; this was the most important detail that must remain hidden while Samael continued his research into a troubling new development. He ascended the steps of his estate wearing the jeans and black t-shirt he had worn to visit Blake in the hospital, along with the golden mask covering his face which allowed him to communicate between realms. All that could be seen beneath the metal was the man’s hazel eyes glinting in the moonlight.

  When Samael reached the top of the stairs, the doors flew open before him with the slightest wave of his hand, and he entered the ornate foyer of the building before continuing on in the direction of his study. Frame after frame of ancient paintings and manuscripts hung on the walls, whizzing past his field of vision as he resolutely strode forward. The loud clunking sound of his footsteps issued forth from the hard marble floor and reverberated off the walls and high ceiling. As the gargantuan wooden doors at the end of the hall also opened at his approach, the masked man caught sight of a visitor waiting within. Standing in front of the large fire-place, an older man in a black cloak turned toward Samael as he entered. The light from the fire danced across the visitor’s dark skin, giving him a ghoulish look in the otherwise shadowy room.

  “High Priest Ini-herit!” Samael exclaimed in ancient Egyptian, throwing out his arms in welcome upon seeing the guest. “I had not expected you so soon!”

  The old man smiled. “My Lord,” he said in his native Egyptian tongue with a slight bow. “Upon receiving your summons, I made haste in arriving. I am honored that you have called upon my services once again.”

  Samael also bowed before his visitor, then motioned to the two chairs set in the center of the room. “Please,” the masked man offered. Ini-herit took a seat in the armchair closest to him, and Samael immediately did the same in the other.

  “I assume,” Samael began, “that you are already aware of why I have summoned you.”

  “Yes,” the high priest responded with certainty. “The Prophecy is coming to pass. The time at which to call upon the Distant One is close at hand. I am to perform the evocation.”

  “Among other things, yes,” Samael affirmed with a nod. “Preparations are not yet complete for the final culmination of our efforts, but I would like to ask for your assistance in procuring a necessary vessel of blood for the second phase. You see, I have made arrangements for the vessel to be transported here, where it shall be more accessible to me. I had not intended to remain here so long; but circumstances have changed. Still, I do not yet have the luxury of revealing my involvement in these affairs to certain interested parties until the moment is appropriate. Therefore, your intervention to identify and obtain the vessel would be greatly appreciated.”

  “But of course,” responded Ini-herit. “How am I to seek out this vessel?”

  “You must disguise yourself as an ordinary mortal, blend into the society here, and work covertly to determine its location and the best method by which to extract it and bring it here to me,” Samael clarified. “Unfortunately, some Kílánór – in their unceasing attempt to safeguard their misguided notion of balance and order within this universe – have already been alerted to our presence here…, and much sooner than I had hoped. My previous servant was less than delicate in his affairs, causing quite the commotion and calling unwanted attention to our existence in this area. As such, you should be prepared to encounter some significant resistance to your efforts.”

  Ini-herit smirked. “I am certainly not worried about the Kílánór,” he assured the masked man. “I shall assemble my forces and dispose of them without difficulty. Although I am no longer able to harness the power of complete resurrection that I once possessed, I have found other means by which to build an army. The sacred armband granted to me by Apep was a great asset indeed, but
, even without it, I have studied the dark arts and have mastered the reanimation of the dead. It is truly a glorious thing what one may achieve with an endless supply of expendable soldiers.”

  “Do not be overconfident,” Samael warned. “The Kílánór also have many powerful allies and various abilities. Even within this era of materialism and godlessness, they are still able to find new recruits to their ranks. There is one specific boy named Lucian who appears to be particularly adept at… resilience. I do not yet know how or why, but I believe that this boy is in some way karmically connected to our aspirations. I am in the process of investigating this matter further, and I shall remain in disguise for longer than I had intended in an effort to get close to him. If I am able to determine his purpose within our goals, perhaps we shall be able to use him to our advantage.”

  “And if I encounter this boy?” Ini-herit inquired.

  “Kill him…,” Samael said after a slight hesitation. “As the masters have said: ‘If you meet the Buddha on the road, kill the Buddha.’ If Lucian is indeed instrumental to our destiny, you shall be unable to truly harm him. If not…, well, then you have eliminated yet another hindrance to our expedient success.”

  “Understood,” Ini-herit said.

  “And you may kill the rest of them, too, if it so pleases you – but do not purposefully seek them out,” Samael added. “Your primary focus should be on the acquisition of the vessel of blood. This must be accomplished by the Winter Solstice, at which point the contents of the vessel may be utilized to call upon someone very dear to me….” With this, Samael reached into an inner pocket of his coat and withdrew an amulet hanging from a silver chain. The round, flat surface of this object bore intricate, upraised symbols, spelling out the word “לילית” in a repeating pattern around the edge.