Rise of Prophecy Page 7

  Twenty minutes go by. Two of the three tents are broken down and are being stowed on to a waiting truck. An explosion erupts on the high ridge. Two enormous tree trunks crash on the loose dirt then slide towards the camp; several other trees break ground and follow the slow descent.

  The sentries panic, hurrying to grab their weapons. A young priest runs out from the standing tent, clutching the stolen chest. He rushes to a nearby log for cover, trying not to get in the middle of whatever is about to happen.

  Shots ring out from Alexius and Deidra’s rifles. Suddenly, the perimeter guns begin to fire at the intruders. The bullets hit the ground rapidly, displacing dirt and rainwater. The pair springs out of the way in opposite directions.

  As they do, the tree trunks and debris rumble into the clearing forming a wall. Two of the three perimeter guns are disabled; Alexius fires at the third, destroying it. Deidra engages the two sentries while ducking from incoming fire.

  A sound startles Alexius; a large sentry barrels down on him with a heavy log. He drops his rifle and then stops the oncoming blow with his two hands. He struggles while trying to prop up the pressure descending on him; the attacker is powerful and enraged. His legs begin to buckle, forcing him to adjust his stance. Luckily, shifting his weight causes the log to slam into the ground.

  He begins to fight the sentry hand to hand. The man is strong but unskilled. With a few moves, Alexius manages to knock his attacker out. The massive beast drops to the ground, causing a small splash. The shooting has stopped.

  Alexius looks at Deidra standing over her two dead sentries, “You said seven.”

  Deidra looks around with panic setting in. There were the two who drove off, the one Alexius dropped, her two, and the cowering priest. She realizes they are still in danger, “Bain,” she exclaims as she runs off.

  Alexius starts towards the priest. Suddenly, a boy no more than thirteen years old rushes out from the bushes with a log. With hate and violence in his eyes, he swings his little weapon at the soldier. “You killed my father!” he screams.

  Without thinking, Alexius smashes his mighty fist on the boy’s jaw, sending him reeling back and falling to the ground. His head hits a nearby rock, instantly killing him. Berries fall out of his pockets, and a small gold and silver triangle reveals itself on the collar; Mathias’ grandson.

  Regaining his composure, Alexius looks at the dead boy with horror, the remorse that is taking over quickly turns into rage. He picks up his rifle and runs to the priest. Seething with anger, he points the shaking weapon at the holy man’s face.

  “Please, I am unarmed,” the priest declares.

  “Move!” Alexius screams as he shoves the man aside. He attempts to open the chest, to no avail. “Open it!”

  “I can’t. I don’t have the key,” the frightened man explains.

  As the priest begins to protest, Alexius fires his rifle at the box. The lid now swings free, ready to reveal the treasure inside. This did not matter right now, for the numbness has already taken over.

  He slowly peers into the box, with confusion filling his face, “You raided the temple for books? Where’s the gold?” Somewhere in the back of his conscience, Alexius couldn’t believe he was asking for gold. It all seemed automatic at this point.

  “No gold. These are sacred books for the master. You don’t understand. Please, leave,” the priest pleads.

  Suddenly, the seventh sentry appears with Bain tightly in his grasp; a pistol is jammed into the Cadet’s side. There is panic on Bain’s face; he is almost at the point of crying.

  “Let him go…do it!” Alexius orders the sentry, pointing the rifle at his head. Deidra appears with her weapon aimed at the man.

  The sentry shows signs of compliance. His grip on Bain begins to ease, slowly and carefully dropping. Bain’s expression changes from fear to determination. He trips his captor, which drops them both to the ground. They struggle until the pistol goes off.

  The bodies remain motionless as the gunshot echo fades. Blood oozes into a puddle. The sentry pushes Bain’s dying body off of him, being careful to show his surrender. This does not stop Alexius from rushing him. He pounds on the man’s face, waling on him as if to redeem himself for Bain’s death, and that of the young boy.

  “Enough Captain! Enough” Deidra shouts while holding him back.

  He stops his beating and then drops to his knees. Deidra goes over to the body, and holds Bain, trying to conceal her emotion. Fresh rain starts to fall.

  Chapter 07: Death Becomes Us

  The Illyrian forest roads at night are dangerous; dark, winding, mountainous. All manner of creature avoids the roadway for you can never tell what will come barreling down the dirt pathways. The many animals who brave a crossing, do so at their peril. Tonight, a stupid deer wanders on to the highway of death. Minding its own business, the walking feast stops to sample a tasty treat.

  A pair of lights appears minuscule at first, too far away to pay attention to. The deer quietly enjoy a shrub at the path’s edge. The lights grow larger, now accompanied by the hum of engines. Faster and faster it comes, brighter and brighter it glows. He looks up, staring into the curiosity.

  An Atlantean vehicle smashes into the animal, sending it into a bloody tumble down the side. So ends the tale of one stupid deer when it faced the driving skills of Deidra. She barely slowed during the impact. With a frame designed to withstand rolling boulders, the truck only suffered the stains of blood and skin on the front grill.

  Her focus is on the winding road as she speeds towards the garrison. Alexius is silent by her side, lost in his thoughts. The radio crackles with questions from the squad they left behind; their location and status being irrelevant now. They had the prize, the stolen chest of treasure. Alexius thinks to himself, What a treasure it is, worth several lives, including one Cadet, a kindly old priest and his household, and one innocent boy…all for worthless books!

  “Don’t respond,” he cautions Deidra as she reaches for the radio. “Andros is surely monitoring. No one should know we have it.”

  He leans back in his seat and closes his eyes, losing himself to fatigue. Maybe I can rest for 15minutes, he teases himself. Deidra’s constant swerving doesn’t bother him anymore; neither does the persistent calls on the radio. All that mattered now was sleep.

  ~ALEXIUS (Age 5) MEMORY OF CHILDHOOD~

  It is a sunny spring afternoon in the province of Parthon. The hills are alive with fresh flowers and green grass flowing up and down through the landscape. Alexius and his family are visiting one of the local aristocrats. They live at the border to the next province. More importantly, Alexius’ friend Daniu lives there.

  The boys are playing in the fields, a game they’ve invented; something about hitting rocks on a stick, then running. A majestic tree grows at the edge of the area where they play. Sitting underneath it is Alexius’ sister Cassandra. She is eleven, and quite the carefree babysitter. Daniu’s elder brother is engaging her in conversation.

  The boys start fencing with sticks, making their way to the tree. Daniu’s brother suddenly slaps Cassandra; Alexius sees this. He stops swinging and is struck by Daniu’s wooden sword. He yelps, but doesn’t take his eyes off the couple.

  The boy walks away from Cassandra, leaving her in tears. Suddenly, a massive log connects his back, dropping him to the ground. He quickly rolls to face his attacker. Little Alexius swings the giant trunk, striking him repeatedly. Blood starts to pour, and bones break. Cassandra screams at her brother and pulls him away.

  ~LATER THAT NIGHT~

  Alexius peeks into his father’s locked room through a metal grate. This hidden spot inside the wall is the only window into the private study of Arias’ ‘secret circle’ of friends. A new man is there tonight, looks like a priest.

  Another is a younger thin fellow with black hair. The last man seems a bit heavier, sturdy and robust with flaming red hair. They are sitting around, smoking, laughing, and drinking wine. Is this all that grown-ups do when th
e children go to bed?

  A strange man with the complexion of oatmeal addresses Arias, “There is the rage in his eyes, his skin, his soul. One so young should not possess such strength or ferocity, for every bystander will suffer.”

  “He is my son…” Arias snaps at the man, “not a plague.” They all become silent.

  Suddenly, hands grab Alexius’ tiny feet. His older brother Remus begins to pull him out of the crawlspace. Being the big brother meant he had to protect Alexius from everything, even from himself. Remus scolds him.

  ~BACK IN THE TRUCK~

  The rough road is smoothening out; the dirt is turning into paved concrete is a welcomed relief to all the bumps and slides. The garrison gates can be seen up ahead, along with the bright spotlights. High in a tower, a lone armed sentry stands ever vigil. The truck screeches to a halt at the gate. Alexius wakes.

  A gate guard emerges from a booth. He points his rifle at Deidra then at Alexius. Deidra rolls down the window ready to scream at the recruit.

  Alexius beats her to it, “Boy, put that fucking thing away, and open the gate!”

  The young guard is surprised, “Captain Alexius,” he acknowledges. He peers into the vehicle. Once satisfied, he gives an apologetic look.

  “Get on with it before I shove that rifle up your ass.”

  The cadet rushes to the back of the truck and lifts a covering: three men are restrained with three corpses beside them; one of the bodies he recognizes, Bain. He immediately calls in the request to open the gate.

  With haste, they drive through, happy to be out of the cold forest. Alexius switches the radio off and looks at Deidra. She has been a true friend, and they have been through a lot. They have killed many together, and lost many too, but never once has Alexius murdered an innocent.

  “I didn’t mean to kill that boy,” Alexius says solemnly.

  “I know. It was an accident,” Deidra assures him.

  “You’re right, things happen, we were being shot at, and he did attack me.”

  “Then get over it, quickly, because you have Andros to deal with.”

  The truck makes a sudden sharp turn to the left, taking them away from the main buildings. Alexius looks at Deidra with concern, what is she up to?

  As if reading his thoughts, Dedira explains her actions, “We’re going to Back End…I suggest we park the truck there, only until we know where Andros is.”

  “Good thinking…I don’t think he will try to take the chest, nor condone it. His people though, now they may try.”

  “You are going to be alright?” she asks with concern. Without the deaths, she would take every opportunity to torment him about his inability to steal the imagined treasure; not this time.

  They arrive at a corner of the base called Back End. A dismal vehicle depot, it smells of metal, oils, and decaying rags. It is a mechanics paradise, with parts strewn all over the place, and a multitude of ground vehicles to play with. No one is there at night.

  “I’ll get the patrols to take the bodies and prisoners…get us a ride back,” Alexius says. He types on a lighted keypad then jumps out of the vehicle.

  He retrieves the chest, looks at it then shakes his head in annoyance. A corner of junk catches his eyes, the perfect place for this box of horror. The golden wings on the side intrigue him even in this state. No matter now, the only ceremony it shall have is the covering with a dirty rag.

  Deidra pulls up to the curb on a hover-bike. He hurries over and jumps on the back. She taps the throttle with her right foot, and they speed off.

  -THE ARCHON INIAS’ OFFICE-

  Inias sits calmly behind his desk, quietly reading incoming messages. He begins to smile at one point, leaning back on his chair, then reaching for his wine goblet.

  The office doors swing open, revealing Alexius and Deidra; Inias spills his wine on his clean white tunic. They stroll into the office tracking mud on to the freshly laid rug. Inias looks at them furiously, then at the devastation done.

  “You filthy animals!” he bursts out.

  “Apologies your holiness,” Alexius offers with a serious look, “We wanted to report as soon as we returned. We have the chest.”

  “Yes, yes. And you bring a few bodies, one of our own, and worthless prisoners,” the Archon chides, throwing his right arm in the air.

  Alexius grunts with some annoyance, “We retrieved…books.” He looks at Inias’ expression, wanting to see the surprise. There isn’t any.

  “Yes, books. What, you thought they stole gold?”

  “Don’t know what to think at this point,” Alexius states bravely. Deidra lowers her gaze.

  “It is all irrelevant now. We have the recovered asset, that’s all that matters.” Inias steps in front of the two soldiers. “I just received word from Atlantis…our time in Illyria has ended.” He smiles triumphantly, overjoyed with his news. “The holy Prince Timon has ordered our return to the capital.”

  Deidra can’t hide her smile, “Archon?” Alexius remains cold, unmoved.

  Inias has a smile on his face, “This alliance between Illyria and Atlantis has been a taxing affair. Let Illyria handle their terrorists.”

  “Whatever his holiness commands,” Deidra agrees.

  Inias walks around the soldiers. He cringes at the sight of his rug. What a glorious day. I have outwitted that fiend Andros, more importantly, saved my skin, and the imminent return to Atlantis. He suddenly remembers something.

  “Oh, your application.” He looks at Alexius, relishing in the pause he gives. “It’s approved. You will be re-assigned to the Far Western Continent. Deidra, leave us.”

  The joy Deidra felt quickly disappears. She gives Alexius a disappointed look as she leaves. She makes a point of closing the doors rather roughly. Inias’ expression turns to one of condolence.

  “I have sad news. Your mother has passed on. I truly am sorry.”

  Alexius appears unmoved. He stares straight ahead, “That is unfortunate,” he states expressionless. “I am certain her loving family will take care of matters.”

  “Be that as it may, you will leave for your hometown in Atlantis tomorrow.” Inias pours Alexius wine. “Parthon is it? You will attend the funeral, along with your wretched brother-in-law, to convey the condolences of the priesthood; your father was, after all, a well-respected statesman.”

  “Archon I must protest, Andros can…”

  “Protest all you want. This is not a request.”

  The inevitable trip to Parthon could not be escaped. Alexius decides to unburden his soul instead, for even though he was not religious, he did honor the tradition of confessing sins. Inias was a tolerable priest. Considering all the time they spent together, he had come to value the priest’s company, respect him even.

  “I killed an innocent boy. Was his life worth some mere books? This is troubling me Archon, weighing heavy on my soul.”

  “As well as it should,” Inias responds in an authoritative tone. “You were trained to kill your enemies. That boy was a nomad terrorist, plain and simple. Despite this, you feel remorse…that’s good. It means you are human. Learn from it, grow with its memory. But never forget his place in the events that transpired. Do you forget who you are?”

  “No Archon.” Alexius lets the words sink in, finding the wisdom in them. The weight begins to fall off his soul, the fog in his mind clears. “May I ask, what is special about those books? Why did the nomads steal them?”

  “Those old books are from a time before the great war. Over three thousand years ago, when the rule of the Anuk was all-encompassing. More valuable than this shit-filled kingdom we’re squatting in.”

  “One less bounty for the terrorists then.”

  Inias stares past Alexius, remembering his friend Mathias’ beliefs. There is sadness in his voice, despite his effort to conceal his feelings.

  “There are some who believe at the end of Virgo, the ancient progenitors of civilization will return to judge humanity. If peace exists, a golden age begins; if war
, then annihilation.”

  “Virgo ends soon. I haven’t heard of a return of the forefathers. Sounds like more religion to me,” Alexius says with some annoyance in his voice.

  “That may be so. There are expeditions underway right now, to find the resting place of the forefathers. Lumeria.”

  “Adventurers, treasure hunters, fools chasing a myth.”

  “One of those fools is a dear friend of mine, a High Priest no less.”

  “I wish them luck. This world needs some judgment.” Alexius places the wine cup on a counter and looks at Inias respectfully. “It is late, by your leave?”

  “Yes, yes. One more thing Captain, have the chest brought to me at once.”

  Alexius bows then take his leaves. As the door closes, Inias looks at the muddy footprints on the rug. He scowls with annoyance.

  -GARAGE AT BACK END-

  The deserted area of Back-End is a dark, dismal place at night. The vast open skies are covered with ominous clouds slowly moving in. The stars are being covered up, and the air smells of rain; a depressing place to be, at Back-End.

  A patrol car drives up to one of the garages; suspicious lights shine inside the space, with the raised doors revealing all the movement inside. The vehicle stops next to a hover-bike parked on a ramp; the lights are still on. The patrol officers stay in the car, observing Alexius inside the structure. Several times, a stray cat rushes in, expecting a treat.

  Alexius uncovers the recovered chest, placing it carefully on the ground. He puts a mini-flashlight in his mouth and drops to the floor. He carefully opens the lid, expecting the old books to contain some mystery.

  The three leather-bound books appear ancient. They smell of temple incense mixed with rain. Alexius carefully lays them out on the floor. There is a fourth book also bound in leather, but much smaller. It appears to be a journal with a crest on the spine. He opens the larger ones first; the pages are littered with strange writing, the ancient tongue. He flips through all three, finding more of the same. Finally, he picks up the smaller one.

  Success, he finds familiar writing on the pages. He begins to read quickly, then fans through the pages. He gets to a section with illustrations, particularly one with the Cappadocian part of the Anatolian plains. Beneath the intricate drawing, he notices a crest; his eyes widen as recognition hits him. He immediately returns to the beginning of the book, frantically searching for a name; he finds it.