by EJ Wozniak
Lumen and the Thistle
Lumen, Volume 1
EJ Wozniak
Published by EJ Wozniak, 2020.
While every precaution has been taken in the preparation of this book, the publisher assumes no responsibility for errors or omissions, or for damages resulting from the use of the information contained herein.
LUMEN AND THE THISTLE
First edition. December 28, 2020.
Copyright © 2020 EJ Wozniak.
Written by EJ Wozniak.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Chapter 1 - Twelve Years Prior
Chapter 2 - Lumen
Chapter 3 - Alec
Chapter 4 - Homecoming
Chapter 5 - A.A.
Chapter 6 - Bonumalus
Chapter 7 - Lumen’s Luxem
Chapter 8 – Hot Date
Chapter 9 - The Beginning
Chapter 10 - Class Begins
Chapter 11 - Snow Day
Chapter 12 – Hiding in Plain Sight
Chapter 13 - A Surrender?
Chapter 14 - Christmas
Chapter 15 - The Jump
Chapter 16 - Summer
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Dedicated to the youth looking to make a change in the world. Find your lights and follow them.
Chapter 1 - Twelve Years Prior
There they stood underneath a sky set on fire. Seemingly on the edge of the world stood three men. On one side, a steep and snowy mountain. The other, a jutting glacier. Below, mauve foggy ice atop a massive glacier. Above, a sky ready to explode at the command of the man with a long green trench coat, swimming with orange and maroon clouds. His hair, a strong pepper color with just the slightest amount of salt starting to appear. The other two men stood at what they thought was a safe distance from the man with the green trench coat.
“Jaxson, what are you doing here?” the man in the green trench coat said to the one standing with a black gown and hood. The hood covered most of his face. On his side was a waist high stick, one with intricate carvings and words. He removed the hood to reveal his snide face. He smiled wide and looked to the third man there, looking for support or comfort.
“Don’t you worry about Jaxson, Al. He has chosen the correct side. I know this must hurt to have had someone so close to you turn their back on you. But Jackson lived in the real world. He lived on Earth. He has seen what has become of our work. What everyday humans are doing to it. They must be stopped. Jaxson sees that, why can’t you?” the third man said, his voice echoing over the vast sheet of ice they stood on.
Al, more famously known as Allister Alvetande, combed his beard with his fingers as he pondered an answer, never taking his eyes off the third man. That man stood with his hands behind his back, a bulky, black denim coat, wolf gray pants, and snow boots. The smile under his tight, thick, graying beard hardly wavered. His wrinkled eyes glimmered, a glimmer that made him look more approachable than a man who was as ruthless as he was.
“Maldeus, I commend you for taking a problem like this on. It is...admirable in a way. But it is not right. We are not gods. We are creators, ones that create for the people of Earth to do with however they please. It isn’t our place to dictate over them,” Allister bestowed over the ice in a much calmer manner given the predicament they were in.
“Creators? Isn’t that what gods are? We created the environment. We control the weather, we shift those tectonic plates, we control the currents in the oceans, we protect the Earth from harmful rays with our once glorious majestas, now a position destined for a woman or man who will undoubtedly become ill from the pollution. Don’t you see? We are almsgivers to those pathetic and needy humans! They plunder from the beautiful lands we created, pollute the airs and waters, and dirty almost everything we have created! We must take it back, rid them from the land we created. Let the land heal. At the very least, we should be dictating over them, it is the only way,” Maldeus said passionately, veins popping from his neck and forehead and his fists clenched in front of him. Jaxson stood close by, nodding his head in agreement.
“We have Bonumalus, Maldeus. That is our realm. That is where we thrive. Earth is our place of work, not our home,” Allister said with the same calming tone. Maldeus shook his head and put his fists at his sides and they lit aflame. Allister looked at those fists of fire but remained calm and addressed Jaxson.
“Son, this is not your way. You have a young boy. You have a wife and child to care for. This is not the life you should lead. It won’t end well for you,” Allister said, looking directly at Jaxson. He must have felt ashamed, not able to look at Allister directly, his pale cheeks turning a rosy red. Allister continued.
“Water, fire, earth, and air. The four elements can work together to create a plan to address this in a safer manner. One where no one must die. One where we don’t become de facto gods over helpless people. The four elements...” Allister was cut off by an angry Jaxson.
“Five elements, Allister. You always seem to forget the lights, the very means of our travel!” Jaxson yelled.
“Of course not, Jax. Your work with the lights has been extraordinary. The luxem was a brilliant creation. Being able to store the lights to use in a moment of danger is one of the best inventions out of Bonumalus in the past hundred years.”
“I know, and it’s a shame that it will be of no use for future generations. Yes, I have a small boy. And I love my wife. But this is a mission I must embark on, Al. I have lived on Earth. I have seen firsthand what is happening. How could I, in my right mind, allow that to continue? What does that make me if I raise a family while standing by? Allowing my family, as well as millions of others, to live in such a destructive manner,” Jaxson said, his fists also on fire.
Allister continued standing there with a calm demeanor.
“Last chance, Allister. This civil war ends now,” Maldeus said as he readied himself to attack, raising his fists while the flames seemed to get stronger.
Allister combed his beard with his fingers twice more and slowly lowered the goggles over his eyes that were holding back his pepper hair. He flicked both his wrists at his sides and balls of water appeared.
“If you say so.”
He thrust his hands out and a massive stream of ice and water jetted towards Maldeus. Maldeus also thrusted his hands forward and a stream of fire met Allister's ice. Jaxson readied himself to send his own attack on Allister. Allister stomped his left foot once, forcing the ice to rise in rapid succession towards Jax, flinging him into the air. Allister flicked his left wrist and Jax was hit by what appeared to be only the air. Jax and his carved staff were sent flying over the ice, landing, and sliding away from the battle.
“This all you got? This is what the great Allister Alvetande has to offer?” Maldeus bellowed with a hearty laugh. He then looked to his left at the nearby mountain. He removed his left hand from the stream he was sending at Allister, held it up in the direction of the mountain, clenched his fist and pulled down. The mountain immediately began to crumble, sending a landslide of massive rocks and boulders at Allister. Al waved an arm and panels of floating lights appeared on his mountain side. When the boulders met the lights, they went through them, disappearing momentarily. Allister waved his arm again and lights appeared above Maldeus’s head and the rocks began pouring down. Maldeus held up an arm and the rocks began hitting an invisible shield of air.
“An auraclip, very nice,” Allister said calmly over the jetting streams of ice and fire and crumbling rock.
“Just imagine, Allister, with my skills and your own, we could fix everything!”
Allister shook his head, keeping the stro
ng stream of ice flowing from his hands towards Maldeus. Allister looked to have deep regret in his eyes and when he looked up, Maldeus could see a sincere frown upon the man in the green trench coats face. It made Maldeus quiver, even his jet of fire seemed to waver.
“I can’t let that happen,” Allister said directly at Maldeus, the glare of the fire and ice bouncing off his goggles. Allister looked up to the burning sky, raised his right hand, and drove it forcibly down. The sky somehow collapsed on itself, just as the mountain side did, and began falling in massive gobs of flame. Both Allister and Maldeus relinquished their streams. Allister knelt and looked forward at his enemy. Maldeus scrambled, trying to build a fortress of ice and earth and anything else, but it was no match. The sky fell on him with relentless power. The ice they stood on, the mountain, and everything in between was battered. As the dust settled, Allister rose, protected from a more powerful auraclip than the one Maldeus could conjure up, and slowly walked to where Maldeus once stood. He approached cautiously, ready for an attack. But no attack came as he found Maldeus’s motionless body under a pile of ice and rock. He turned to find Jaxson screaming in pain as his black gown and hood had caught on fire from the falling sky. Allister hurried over to help, but the lights flashed bright, and Jaxson was gone. But one thing remained: the staff. Allister picked it up and briefly examined it. His eyes came up and examined the destruction caused to the once beautiful landscape they stood on just moments ago. He took a deep breath and walked back towards Maldeus with his shoulders slumped. Yes, Allister had beat the great and powerful Maldeus, but it brought him no joy.
Chapter 2 - Lumen
Lumen wasn’t like the other kids in his small town. He didn’t have many friends and was considered different in the eyes of others. Some kids called him that freak without a dad. Although Lumen had never met his father, it didn’t bother him. He thought his mother did a great job as a single parent. His mother, Alice, always told him he was the man of the house, anyway, so she didn’t need another man around there. Truth be told, Lumen didn’t think he may ever be the man of the house, of any house for that matter. Ever since he was a young boy, he had always been unlike other children. Lumen used to stare off into space for long periods, often times in class. There was no telling when exactly his eyes would glaze over. Sometimes it happened when he was walking, eating, even during a test. Other children picked on Lumen for his unsettling gaze and often called him crazy or weird.
Most parents in town also thought there was something off about Lumen. That was, of course, until he was diagnosed and their judgments had been confirmed. From the looks of it, Lumen often appeared to be staring at empty space. The rumors surrounding his gaze ranged from magical beings to angels and demons. But to Lumen, he wasn’t just staring off into space. There weren’t any magical creatures, no voices, and indeed no demons. It was much more than that. He was actually looking at something, something only he could see. He was staring at the lights.
Lumen was a fair boy of average height for his age. He had dark brown hair and thin, lanky legs and arms—but wasn’t unathletic though; he loved to run. Running made Lumen forget about all the problems in his life. He felt like he was at his freest. He was on the cross-country team as a freshman in high school but eventually quit because several of his teammates picked on him too much. Despite the name calling and cruelty, Lumen never wanted to get any of the other kids in trouble. He kept quiet, hoping the kids would just leave him alone. Unfortunately, things didn’t quite go his way.
* * *
He once won the “Prettiest Eyes” award in middle school—Lumen had eyes that were the same color as a green tree frog—but even when he won that award, it turned for the worse. The day he was to take a picture for the award, his mother dressed him up in his best looking green and white striped polo shirt with his nice black khakis. He combed his hair to the side with some gel and wore his favorite black and white sneakers. However, before Lumen could so much as a smile for the yearbook photo, the yearbook photographers dragged him into a bathroom to give him a cold, wet swirly.
“Crazy kids should appear crazy in their pictures,” said one photographer as he pushed Lumen into the stall.
“Yeah, you skitzo, you can’t look nice. You would be lying to the whole school. My parents said it isn’t fair for kids like you to be up for school awards. People just voted for you because they feel bad for you,” said the photographer’s partner, Blake, as he proceeded to force Lumen’s head into the toilet and flush it a few times. Lumen didn’t put up a fight. He figured he should have known this would happen. Instead, he focused on breathing between dunks in the dimly lit middle school bathroom.
* * *
Incidents like that were why Lumen tried not to draw attention to himself. Lumen won the award again his freshman year of high school but asked to be withdrawn from consideration. It was easier this way for Lumen. The more he was able to hide in plain sight, the less he had to worry about all the bullies. He had been called crazy all his life, but Lumen never felt mentally unstable. Sure, he didn’t quite know what normal meant per se, but he was sure he wasn’t crazy. He only saw lights. They were distracting at times, but there were no voices in his head; he didn’t talk to imaginary figures; it was just the lights. Lumen believed he wasn’t the first and only human in existence to see these lights. They stuck out like a sore thumb and were as real as the bullies who held his head in a toilet. They sometimes were so overwhelming that he couldn’t help but to look at them, no matter how much he tried not to.
During the last week of middle school, Lumen came home four consecutive days with his clothes torn, dirtied, or missing. After the fourth day, he went to the doctor for a routine check-up, and his mother found out that Lumen had an ear infection, presumably from the dirty water in the toilets at school. As she was unaware as to the extent of the bullying, she pushed Lumen to find out what he had been doing that would have caused this, and he eventually confessed to the extreme bullying. That was the last straw for Alice. She demanded to know what was wrong with her only son; she wanted him to live a healthy life.
The doctor came into the room with a chart in hand.
“You tell me what is wrong with my son, right now.” Alice whispered harshly.
The doctor looked at Alice, then at Lumen, and took a deep breath. He spoke loud enough for them both to hear.
“After some preliminary tests, well. . . it looks like your son may be showing signs of schizophrenia, ma’am. Very, very minor at this point, but nonetheless, schizophrenia.”
“Call me Alice, please . . . Are you sure, doctor?” Alice put her hand on her forehead to process what the doctor had just said. Tears filled her eyes and she took deep breaths.
“We still need to run a few tests to confirm, but the signs are pointing to that diagnosis. It is minor at this point in time but could, and most likely will get worse,” the doctor said.
“What does this mean for my son?”
“Well, schizophrenics usually experience hallucinations. They may hear voices, they may have thought and movement disorders . . .”
“My son doesn’t experience voices. All he said is he sees are something along the lines of panels of light. . . something like that. Couldn’t his eyes just be bad? I have worked with patients who have schizophrenia, and they differ greatly from Lumen. I could tell you stories . . .” Alice’s eyes bulged as she held her hands clasped together in front of her pale face.
“I am afraid not, Alice. These lights may be just the beginning. Chances are it will get worse over time. Medicine can help with controlling symptoms, which we will administer to Lumen today. Does schizophrenia run in the family?”
“No, no one in my family has it.”
“What about the father’s side?” the doctor asked. Alice looked down.
“Lumen’s father has never been around,” Alice said, looking slightly uncomfortable.
“Genetics are not biased to which parent is or is not present.”
&nbs
p; “Well, no, I hardly knew him myself. I suppose it could run on his side, but I’m not sure,” she said with an acerbic tone.
“Any chance you can give him a call to find out? It would help to be familiar with the severity on his side. It will help us administer the correct dosage of medicine.”
“No,” she snapped.
“No?”
“I don’t know where he is. Nor do I want to know.”
The doctor did not push further and instead prescribed a low dosage to start, assuring Alice that Lumen could lead a traditional life as long as he took his medicine. Lumen did not like the idea of being medicated, even if it helped. All he thought about was what the other kids at school would say if they saw him taking pills every day.
* * *
Lumen sometimes pondered about his father’s identity and why he had left them. He tried not to think about it too much, though, his mom did more than enough to take care of them both. Lumen was an only child. Alice was a nurse at a mental health facility, which meant she worked long, hard, and varied hours. She always did her best to make it home for dinner to see Lumen at least once a day, however, that was hardly the case. She often worked double shifts and wasn’t able to leave the hospital.
On his many lonely lights, Lumen often visited the restaurant across the street from his house called La Dernière Pièce. On one particular night, Lumen’s mom left him money on the kitchen table of their two-bedroom house, and Lumen knew that meant she would not be coming home until late that night or early the next morning. Sometimes, she left a note, but he didn’t see one. She must have been in a rush, Lumen thought. Lumen walked across Inventa Way, where he resided, to the restaurant. It was a little run down, family-owned place that had excellent chicken pot pie. Lumen couldn’t figure out why the restaurant had a French name, he was positive they didn’t serve French cuisine. He figured they were just trying to make it sound fancier than it really was. He remembered one of the bus boy’s name was Henry, only remembering because he learned about King Henry II of France in class. Lumen concluded that even Henry didn’t know his name was French.
