Chapter Eleven
An overwhelming light crept back in through the darkness as Ben opened his eyes and found himself lying on a cot in Jarvis’ greenhouse. A dull aching pain radiated through his body as he looked up and saw the old man sitting at his table examining something with Adam standing there looking over his shoulder. Ben grunted as he tried to sit up, which alerted the two of them to his presence. Adam was the first one over to check on him as he woke up, but it was Jarvis who was most excited to see the boy open his eyes.
“You did it. I don’t know how, but you did it. My life’s work can now be completed thanks to you,” the old man said through a smile that was covered by his thick grey mustache. He walked over to Ben with a cup of liquid that was steaming at the top and handed it to the boy. Ben turned his nose up at it, but Jarvis insisted by pushing the cup to his face and lifting the bottom until Ben was almost choking on the disgusting drink.
“Jarvis has been teaching me the subtleties of his craft,” Adam said, walking over to greet Ben, his new friend. Ben couldn’t find the courage to look the man in the eyes as he approached with an awkward smile.
“Your new friend has a million questions. We’ve been chatting a lot while you’ve been asleep. He told me how you are the only person that knew him before his encounter with the angel,” Jarvis said, patting Adam on the shoulder as he walked back to his workbench. “So, what do we call him?” This question startled Ben.
“Donovan,” Ben said, pushing out the first thing that came to mind. “Adam” had almost rolled off his tongue, but that would mean facing the reality of his mistake, and Ben wasn’t ready to do that yet. The very idea of explaining the man’s unholy rebirth to either of them was too much to take. The angel had done them both the favor of erasing Adams memories, but Ben would be cursed forever with the recollection of his own irresponsible deed.
“You know my name?” Adam asked with a burning eagerness for any information Ben might have. Ben didn’t know what to say, so he was forced to perpetuate his own lie; but whom was he protecting?
“You told me before the angel wiped your memory clean,” Ben replied. The reluctance in his voice was blatant.
“Well, with that out of the way, we come to your reward,” Jarvis butted in. “I wasn’t able to translate much. The strangest thing happened which kept me from reading much more than a few pages at a time, but I did translate what I could.”
“Wait, what happened?” Ben asked, rising from the cot.
“I don’t know, but every time I read from the book, I felt like I was losing myself. I can’t explain it, but this book is evil. Be careful when you do read it, because it seems to tax the reader of their mental health,” Jarvis said.
Unsure what to say or how to respond to this, Ben just asked his next question instead. “What did you get translated?” he asked.
“Only a few sections in the back. The book is written in different languages and dialects, some of which I don’t even recognize, but what I did translate is quite interesting. It talks a good bit about beings called ‘the hollow’ and how they have been asleep for a very long time. They have the ability to affect mankind’s mind with their very presence.”
“Why are they called ‘the hollow’?” Ben asked, moving closer.
"The only thing I can figure is that they affect man’s emotions on a base level, turning positive intentions into hollow husks that are used for selfish purposes. I’m not sure I understand it well enough to explain it to you. Something else I learned is that there are four items deemed as magical weapons that I think you have to collect. A sword, which I see you already have, a cup, a wand or torch maybe, and a shield or coin,” Jarvis said, looking over the book.
“For what purpose?” Ben asked, trying to absorb as much information as he could.
“To arm yourself, my boy. Apparently, they are vital to a rite that’s supposed to bind these beings to this realm by closing some gate or portal… it wasn’t clear. Either way, according to the book, these things are closer to returning now than they’ve ever been and something tells me your presence here may have something to do with that. Now, that’s all I know. As I’m sure you can tell, I have a lot to do and with the fruit now in my possession, I must get back to work. I have no more time for stories and legends. Off with the two of you and please don’t come back. I’m much too busy to entertain guests,” Jarvis said. He pushed the book toward Ben and, without missing a beat, returned to his work.
“Oh, and here, I want you to have his. Consider it additional reward for a job well done,” Jarvis said, placing a piece of the fruit wrapped in leather on the table for Ben to take.
Ben stood there for a moment, speechless and confused by the sudden change in the man’s demeanor. He reached up for the book and the small pouch and slid them off the table without saying a word. Turning to the man he had newly dubbed Donovan, he gave a slight wave. “Come on,” he said. The two of them turned and walked out of the shed without looking back at the tinkering old man who had begun to hum another unfamiliar tune.
The cold night air blasted him in the face as he left the warm greenhouse. Before the two of them stood the house and a wide open sky that masked the heavens with its dark shroud. Without a clue of what to do, Ben paused there for a moment with sword and book in hand. The blade was clenched in his tight grip while the book weighed down his other arm with its formidable size.
“What do we do now?” Donovan asked.
“I don’t honestly know. I risked my life and got nothing in return but a sword and a snub from an ornery old man. I’ve never been so lost in my life,” Ben replied. The self-pity in his voice was apparent to more than just the two of them. From out of the shadows came a familiar figure, which approached without being seen.
“If what the old man said was true, then the sword was your prize in the first place, and you can’t forget about the fruit. Both of these are priceless items that you can’t afford to part with,” said Miles. Ben recognized the man the second he spoke, but was still surprised to see him appear as he did. Donovan stood there, unsure of what to say.
“What do you know about it?” Ben asked, holding out the sword while approaching in a hostile way. The frustration he felt was apparent by the look on his face.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d think that you were trying to threaten me,” Miles said, poking the sharp tip of the sword. He brought his finger up to his mouth and sucked the blood that seeped from the new wound.
Ben realized his error and pulled away with an apologetic look on his face. “That was not my intention. It’s just…it’s just that I have no idea what to do, or where to go. We are lost.” His shoulders slumped as his head followed suit. He was almost in tears when Donovan stepped up to him and placed his hand on the boy’s shoulders. Ben almost felt comforted until the man opened his mouth and said more words he didn’t want to hear.
“You are being too hard on yourself. If it wasn’t for you, I don’t think I’d be here right now,” Donovan said.
“I didn’t want this,” Ben said, fighting back the pain and sorrow that plagued him.
“People aren’t usually happy with the way their lives turn out,” Miles said.
“I’m just a kid! My life isn’t supposed to have “turned out” already! I’m supposed to be at school or with my family and friends! God damn, this isn’t fair.” Ben fell back against the door of the shack. From within, the loud protests of Jarvis could be heard, but not understood. With this, tears began to flow forth, running down his cheeks and falling from his chin. Donovan wasn’t sure what to do, but tightened his grip in an effort to show his support of his newfound friend—his only connection to this world.
“When I was your age, I was already a man with all the responsibilities that entails. I’m not saying you need to grow up, but you don’t have a choice about where you are headed. Would you like to be dragged along until you reach your destination, or worse; or would you rather grab the reins and ste
er yourself in?” Miles asked. The assurance in his voice reminded Ben of his father. Ben responded to his question, not with words, but with the single action of wiping away his tears. He sniffled a bit as he stood back up. Shame was painted across his face, but he was standing once again, ready to take a step forward.
“What do you suggest?” Ben asked. Donovan wrapped his arm around the boy with a joyful smile on his face.
“Well, seeing as how you already have one of the four items you need, I suggest we go after the rest. You’ve already proven yourself in one trial, what’s another?” Miles asked with a sly smile.
“But why should we trust you?” Donovan asked. Ben felt better knowing that he wasn’t the only one who had trouble taking this hooded man at his word. There was something about him that didn’t seem trustworthy, but neither Ben nor Donovan could put a finger on the uneasy feeling they got around him.
“You two haven’t been together long. When I last saw this boy, he was alone wandering in the woods. So, let me ask you…” Miles paused, waiting.
“It’s Donovan,” Ben said before his friend could.
“Right, so Donovan, why do you trust him?” he asked, pointing to Ben with a casual, fluid gesture.
“This isn’t about the two of us,” Ben butted in.
“Heh, of course it’s not. Either way, I guess you shouldn’t trust me, but I do know where you should go next. All I ask is that you take me with you,” Miles said as he took a pipe from an unseen pouch. With a snap of his fingers the pipe lit and smoke puffed up as he inhaled. Ben was surprised by this and kind of amazed at the same time. The things he had seen were already impressive, but the slight magic seemed more real and attainable than the other bizarre things he had experienced.
“What’s in it for you?” Ben asked, with a suspicious glint in his eye.
“That’s it. I only want the company and the protection it brings. I have my own reasons for going, and seeing as how you are going too, why not go together? You know, safety in numbers and all that,” Miles said. Ben looked away, pondering the proposal. Did he have a choice? Donovan flashed him a look out of the corner of his eye and Ben knew that he didn’t.
“So, where to?” Ben asked with no small amount of reluctance. “The old man didn’t translate any locations, only the items I need.”
“Aye, and I’ve seen one of those items before,” Miles said.
“Where?” Ben asked, perking up.
With a slight laugh that seemed to stop just short of a chuckle, Miles replied, “Atlantis.”