Chronicles of Stephen BoxSet

by Kenyon T Henry

  The David looked at Sam and nodded. “Sam, go ahead.”

  Sam wasted no time. “You three went to Charleston, South Carolina, on a mission after we received information that Bernard might be there. This mission—or rather, your specific involvement—served two purposes. The first was to give you each field experience, Stephen and Vincent as team members, Alistair as team leader. You each were assessed after the mission by the more experienced members. You did well.

  “The second purpose was to help solidify a bond that we believe exists among you three, the bond of triune.”

  “That is why we are here?” Vincent asked.

  “It is. When a bond is formed, an energy is created, much like when a Mighty awakens, only stronger. It is stronger because you each awaken in some way to the other’s class traits.”

  “Did something happen, or not happen?” Alistair asked, sounding unsure of himself.

  Sam looked annoyed with the interruptions. “Yes and no,” he continued. “An energy was felt, but different. It was different than anything we’ve felt before. This energy wasn’t as powerful as a triune bond, nor was it as wild and sporadic as an awakening.”

  “So, they didn’t bond?” This time, Cassandra asked the question.

  “We believe they did, but only partially. This wouldn’t be unheard of. A partial bond is when certain classes bond among the three. In every case I know of, the full bond matures not long afterward.”

  Anastasia spoke up. “Stephen, we believe that your warrior abilities have not bonded with the others. You obviously have prophet abilities of your own. We’ve observed these abilities getting stronger, which would be consistent with growth from Alistair’s energy. Vincent has also shown seer abilities. Both you and Alistair have recently shown a need to protect in ways that are not in your usual character. However, neither of the other two have given any hint of warrior abilities.”

  “Maybe I’m not a warrior,” Stephen blurted out, though he couldn’t deny that he had just as much warrior ability as prophet ability.

  “Stephen,” Sam injected, “that would mean you weren’t part of this triune. And we felt an energy.”

  The teachers began asking questions of the David and two council members. Stephen found it hard to pay attention, trying to put it all together himself. He knew he shouldn’t have, but he listened to their thoughts. Each was confused by what had happened. But each was just as certain that Alistair, Vincent, and Stephen were forming a triune.

  Stephen focused in on Alistair and Vincent, who both sat watching the exchanges. Alistair, any thoughts?

  The Scotsman glanced at Stephen and shrugged.

  Vincent?

  The expressionless Vincent casually shook his head, as he continued to watch the exchange.

  “Ah! We agree,” the commander belted.

  Stephen looked around the table, noting the elders nodding in near unison. What had they agreed on? He had missed it. He stared blankly.

  “We’ll keep an eye out for another mission that will fit the three of them,” the commander offered. “I think we’re right in keeping them together. The more they become a cohesive team, the easier the bond.”

  “You three,” Pastor Buchanan motioned to Alistair, Vincent, and Stephen, “should spend some time relaxing together in your free time. That will help.” Before Stephen could object, the old man continued. “That’s an order as the David, not as your friend.”

  Stephen knew that was meant for him. He wasn’t even aware of the other two talking to the David outside of official business. He frowned, but nodded. Pastor Buchanan smiled and winked.

  The three were dismissed. As soon as they were outside of the quarters and away from the elders, Stephen said, “Alistair, I think someone awakened in Charleston. Not us, but someone entirely different.”

  “Ye heard Sam. He said it wasn’t the same energy.”

  Vincent came closer. “Actually, that is not what he said. He said it was more like an awakening but too controlled.”

  “Exactly. Isn’t it possible that someone awakened that already has the skill to control their ability?” Stephen put his hands on his hips.

  “Not likely. I’ve never heard of such a thing. Besides, the elders should know the difference between the two energies.”

  Stephen nodded, though he wasn’t certain. He could feel that Vincent wasn’t certain either. Alistair, however, seemed eager to accept what Sam said. Perhaps Alistair’s experience as Mighty had shown him that was the best thing to do. Stephen, on the other hand, didn’t share Alistair’s blind faith in the council.

  Chapter 14

  The weekend arrived just in time for Stephen to put some space between him and everyone else, except Patty. Finally, they had some time alone, walking along the familiar riverbank of the Tennessee River in Chattanooga. He wanted her to see where he lived while he was away from Waltz. Many times he had relayed to her just how beautiful the area was and how southern hospitality wasn’t just a stereotype. The beautiful mountains, winding river, rural surrounding, barbecue, and sweet iced tea, all smothered in southern charm and topped with a light dusting of snow made for a perfect little escape.

  “Just up here’s the walking bridge. There’s a park and shops on the other side, on North Shore,” Stephen said as they started up the hill.

  “North Shore?” she asked while zipping her coat closed as a cool breeze rolled off the river. “Not very original.”

  By the grin on her face, he could tell she was teasing him. He loved it when she got feisty.

  “And calling a giant arch in St. Louis the St. Louis Arch is more original?” He chuckled and nudged her with his shoulder.

  “Touché.” Patty shrugged.

  The two continued onto the walking bridge where they looked over the rails, taking in a breathtaking view of the river as the rising sun reflected off the ripples. Cool winter air made Patty’s cheeks and nose rosy. Stephen pulled her close to him, cupping her hands in his and breathing into them.

  Patty smiled and kissed his cold nose.

  Stephen turned to look at a couple sitting on a bench across the bridge. Both sat with arms crossed, neither looking at the other. Their raw emotions felt so strong and oozed to the surface: anger, hatred, and despair. He searched further, wanting to see the source of all this pain. He found they hadn’t been married long and were fighting. They’d come for a walk together to try and fix their broken marriage. Now, they felt the only thing to do was to work out visitation and try to be civil for their son.

  “What is it?” Patty’s voice broke through their thoughts.

  Stephen’s attention snapped back to the moment. “I’m sorry. My mind wandered. I can’t help it sometimes.” He motioned to the couple. “They’re having a hard time. Their emotions are strong enough that I couldn’t help but be drawn in.”

  “Can you do anything?” she asked.

  “You mean like console them?”

  “You told me that Waltz helped you to understand that being Mighty was more than fighting the big battles, but it was also helping everyday people with everyday troubles.” Patty gave him that look, the one every guy with a special woman in his life knows.

  “Patty, I’m training to fight for all humankind. I can’t help every person with every problem.” From the look on Patty’s face, that was not the right thing to say.

  “I don’t want you to help every person with every problem. I want you to help the ones in front of you. If you aren’t willing to do that, what’s the point of being Mighty?”

  “I’m sorry, Patty. I can’t. It’s not our problem. We should go.” Stephen walked away.

  Patty raised her voice. “You can go. Or, you can stay and do what’s right.”

  “What?” Stephen turned back around.

  Now Patty’s arms were crossed and she was scowling at him. “You heard me, Mr. Cross.”

  He hated to admit it, but she was right. She reminded him so much of Waltz and his principles and, at times, Patty looked
so much like his mom, he felt he had no choice but to comply. He walked over to the couple feeling as though he had a tail tucked between his legs. How was he going to do this without them thinking he was a weirdo? But what did he care? He had single-handedly fought and defeated Bernard and the mysterious voice less than a year ago.

  He stopped just short of them to keep from causing any alarm.

  “Excuse me. I couldn’t help but notice you two. I-I wanted to ask some advice.” The couple stared at him blankly. “I was wondering, how do you work through those tough fights? You see, we’re in the middle of a disagreement right now. On top of that, I proposed recently. Her response was basically ‘not now.’ What do I do?”

  The couple sat silent, neither seemed willing to reply. Stephen, however, heard their thoughts working, trying to figure it out. The man shifted on the bench back and forth before offering an answer in a voice that sounded defeated.

  “You remember that you love her, no matter what. And give her more time.” The man looked at his wife, then back to Stephen.

  “What do you mean?” Stephen said

  “Well,” the man continued, “you may not agree now. And not agreeing can make things hard.” His voice grew a bit stronger. “If you believe that she does truly love you, and you know you love her, then whatever the problem is, you can overcome it . . . together.”

  “How so?” Stephen didn’t fully understand how he knew what the couple needed. But the more he listened, the more he understood.

  “Because when you love someone, you only want the best for that person. If you both focus on that, then it will be all right.”

  Stephen smiled. “I see your point.” He looked at the woman and back to the man. “Is that what you two do, work out your problems from a position of love?”

  The woman had heard enough. Tears streamed down her cheeks. “No,” she sobbed. “At least, I haven’t.”

  The man turned toward her and eased her face to his chest. “It’s okay. Shhh. We can work through this.”

  Stephen could barely make out her muffled sobs as the man held her tight. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Over and over she continued as though saying it more would magically lift a burden. All the while, the man kissed the top of her head.

  “We’ll get through this, and the next problem, and the next . . .” her husband reassured her.

  Stephen walked back over to Patty.

  “See?” She grinned.

  “You want to hear it, don’t you?” he grumbled.

  She nodded.

  “Fine. You were right.” He looked back at the couple. “You know this won’t fix all their problems.”

  “They don’t need all their problems fixed right now,” she said. “Just this one.”

  Patty and Stephen walked only a few steps when the young man called out to him. They turned and saw the couple approach.

  “We are wondering,” the man said, “what you do when your relationship isn’t running smoothly.”

  Patty looked at Stephen. She had given him a different look—the one that told him to listen to her thoughts. This is all you! He smiled.

  “Well,” he replied, “usually anything she wants.”

  They all chuckled a bit, which gave Stephen an opportunity to gather his true answer.

  “Actually,” Stephen started again, “we don’t worry too much about our relationship, trying to please each other. Our focus is on making the Almighty the center of our relationship. If we both work to get closer to him, then no matter what, we’re getting closer to each other. When we do disagree, it’s kind of like that too. Only, she usually is right.”

  “Thank you,” the man said. “We’ll let you two get back to walking. Sorry to interrupt.”

  “It’s no problem, William. You and Angela take care of each other, okay?”

  “You bet . . .” The man’s words trailed off as Stephen and Patty turned and walked away.

  “Did they tell you their names?” Patty asked.

  Stephen glanced at her, thinking back, and slowly realized what he’d done. “No, but it’s too late now. Keep walking.” He listened to the couple’s thoughts as he and Patty continued out of audible range. They debated whether he and Patty were angels. As the couple began a brisk pace in his direction, he and Patty reached the end of the walking bridge, where they turned down the street and became engulfed in a purple mist.

  ****

  Stephen watched Patty, waiting for her to register what had just happened. He didn’t have to wait long, watching the realization wash over her. They had just vanished together and were back at Enclave. Patty had learned enough in her studies to know that she wasn’t supposed to be able to vanish at all without being in a vanishing point.

  She looked around the training room, whipping her head from side to side as though she had never seen the training room before.

  “How did we . . . ?” She looked at Stephen. “Did you . . . ?”

  Stephen smiled. “It’s okay, Patty.” He pulled the medallion from against his chest. “It was in the trove. It’s different.”

  Patty hesitated before reaching to touch it. “It’s gorgeous!” Her eyes widened as she ran her fingers along the surface.

  Then she froze, her eyes cut and glared at Stephen. “Is this how you got the dress in my bathroom?”

  “I-I—”

  “I thought Shannon did it for you. How dare you!” Her voice grew louder. “You should know better.”

  “It was an accident.” Stephen put a step between himself and Patty. “I had the medallion and the dress in my hands thinking about how beautiful you would look in it. Then, I was just there. I didn’t even mean to leave the dress. I accidentally dropped it. I had planned to bring it to you. I swear.”

  Patty’s face relaxed—her jaw unclenched and her lips no longer pursed. He felt her tension ease a bit, though she continued to scowl through judgmental eyes. New light entered the room. They both turned their attention toward the door. Shannon entered. This was the first time Stephen had been glad to see Shannon in the combat training wing.

  “Stephen, I’m glad you’re already here. I was about to call for you. You owe me another training session, remember?” Shannon unzipped her warm-up jacket and threw it to the side.

  His happy moment was short-lived. “Oh, yeah. I remember now.” He turned to find that Patty was already walking toward the observation room exit.

  “Shannon,” she called out. “He’s all yours. Don’t hurt him too bad.”

  He heard a hint of playfulness in her voice.

  Stephen threw his jacket aside as Shannon approached. His cargo pants and T-shirt would be fine for sparring.

  “Before we start, aren’t you going to turn the safeties on?” he asked.

  Shannon’s fist struck him across the jaw. It didn’t hurt like usual. The safeties were definitely off.

  “Shannon, seriously. If we spar like this, you could get hurt.”

  She swung again. He dodged, but just in time.

  “Have you gotten quicker?”

  Shannon kept quiet, swinging again and again. Stephen continued evading, concerned a simple block might hurt her. She kicked at his legs, trying to sweep him, followed by a couple more punches and a kick to his thigh. It landed.

  Stephen winced, surprised that it hurt as much as it did. What’s going on?

  He continued to evade for the next few maneuvers, then blocked a spinning back fist. Afraid she might have been hurt, he hesitated, which allowed her to land a spinning side kick, sinking her heel into his solar plexus.

  It was the first time he had ever felt the sensation of flying while fighting Shannon. Regardless, the aching pain in his gut kept him from enjoying it. He pushed the pain aside and sprang back to his feet. How had she done that? It didn’t make sense.

  He listened to her thoughts, hearing that she already knew what he had only begun to suspect. “You’ve got powers?”

  She came at him again, a smile spread across her face.
This time, it was on!

  They fought back and forth. She had more grace and skill than he thought he might ever have and fought with a vigor that surprised him. But his powers were stronger and he had more experience using them. He held back some, unsure why. Something about seeing her more as a lady now than a combatant, made him pull his punches. And, he didn’t want to hurt Vincent’s girlfriend. Still, they fought back and forth, each landing blows, each working to gain the upper hand.

  Shannon swung a wide left hook. Stephen blocked, then locked her arm and torqued her toward the wall. Rather than running into the wall, Shannon ran up it and flipped backward and over Stephen, landing on the opposite side. Stephen had been prepared and swept her legs as she landed. After a longer than normal match, Shannon yielded. Placing her hands on her knees, she took several deep breaths.

  “Wow!” She continued to breath deep. “That’s what it’s like to fight you full-on?”

  Stephen grinned as he wiped sweat from his eyes, his breathing only slightly labored. “Not hardly. I had more to give. Plus, I didn’t even use my prophet powers on you.”

  Stephen pulled a sword from the wall, twirled it, and put it back in its place. “I’ve been wondering something. Why don’t we use guns?”

  Shannon cut her eyes at him. “Seriously? Two organizations working in silence against each other in public with guns . . . How long do you think it would be a secret? Guns draw too much attention.”

  “How long have you had powers?” Stephen asked. He could have sought the answer himself, but he wanted to hear it from her.

  “I think it was Thanksgiving.” She stood, raising her hands behind her head to take deep breaths. “You did it. I’m certain of it. You changed something in me, didn’t you?”

  “I—” Stephen didn’t know what to say. He had changed something in her. He had seen how not having abilities made her feel. It dampened her hope and made her feel alone. Or perhaps her lack of faith and hope had dampened her ability to truly be Mighty. He had sought to help her. Looking at her now, he believed he might have done wrong in interfering.

  “Well?” Shannon pressed. “Did you do something to me?”