Something Eternal
Suddenly, the dull paper came alive. Like a living road map of the earth—complete with things that looked like streets, intersections, and potholes—the map flashed with blinking red arrows, black circles, along with blue and green lines from one landmass to another.
“What is it?” Maximillian’s eyes shifted.
Revekka silently attempted to decipher the map on her own, exhaling when she could not. “What does it all mean?”
Acuumyn’s face reflected the vibrant insignias on the active map. “This is the Sphere Atlas, and it is the ultimate instrument from our technological age.” He paused for effect. “Well…next to the Golden Glass Orbs that is.” He grinned.
The Sphere Atlas was elongated when unfurled, and nearly the length of the stone slab it lay upon, but Acuumyn pinched the ends of the scroll, two corners at a time, and like a computer screen, he shrank the paper to the size of a handheld tablet. He then handed it to Revekka, and she gazed wide eyed at the living map, she then gave it over to an impatient Maximillian.
Maximillian did not take his eyes off the beautifully colored, now hand sized object. “What am I looking at?” He cradled it with both hands, fingertips only, as if he were holding a small baby.
“That is a map of every portal on Earth. The black circles are dead zones where no travel is available. The red arrows are hot leap zones, with multiple connection points. And the green and blue lines are one-way and two-way travel points.” Acuumyn nudged in close to Revekka and Maximillian, pointing at other less eye catching, but important parts of the map. He pointed near the bottom of the tablet. There’s a list of what everything means down here, you just have to enlarge it.” He touched the map with his index finger and thumb, flipping his fingers away from each other, and enlarging a single area of the map to readable form. “But this is just the basics of the Sphere Atlas.” Acuumyn then took back the map. He laid it down on the stone slab and enlarged it to its original size. He then separated the two parts, thus returning each to its lifeless, abstract form, binding them with their ribbons again, before handing each half back over to Revekka and Maximillian.
“That was unreal!” Maximillian proclaimed.
“We’re ready to secure these scrolls with our life,” Revekka added.
“Good.” Acuumyn became vigilant, anxiously glancing all around the ruins. “But you need to know why the Sphere Atlas is important, too.”
“Go on then.” Maximillian eagerly waved his fingers toward Acuumyn.
Acuumyn puttered around the ruins, picking several stones of varying sizes
from the ground. They rattled when he shook them in his hand like dice. He placed the small, loose rocks on the stone slab in front of them. “Say each of these rocks are portals, or as we know them to be, apertures.”
Revekka leaned in, her arms crossed behind her back.
Maximillian, straight-armed, placed his fists on the edge of the stone slab, leaning over the diagram, examining it closely.
Acuumyn collected their attention, so he continued. “Apertures can be small, like this pebble over here.” He pointed to one of the smaller rocks. “In fact, apertures can be as small as twenty feet or up to several miles wide.” Acuumyn bent down and ripped some grass from the sprouting, stray bits between stones, still talking throughout. “One large aperture can have many different points of entry inside a single leap zone.” After depositing a handful of grass on the stone slab, he piled a few thin, short sticks from the nearby ground as well. “And each entry leads to many different destinations around the earth.” Acuumyn dropped the bent sticks in the middle of the flat, stone slab next to the shards of grass. He began arranging the rocks, grass, and sticks into a configuration. “Now an immortal can open an aperture without a map…but it’s risky.” He tapped his index finger to his chin. “For each aperture has a different feel or texture, so from memory, a familiar aperture will always take you to the same place, yet an unfamiliar aperture, one you’ve never traveled before, can send you places even an immortal may never return from.”
Acuumyn positioned the blades of grass between the various shaped rocks on the flat slab. “Some apertures go back and forth. Like a two-way street.” He then positioned the sticks in and around the rocks and grass. “Yet others travel only one way…” he looked up, narrowing his eyes. “Do you understand?” His head shifted between Maximillian and Revekka. They nodded agreement. “Apertures almost never go to the exact destination desired, but some do. The apertures that don’t take you to your exact destination, may leave you with miles and miles of distance still needed to be covered, most likely by traditional methods of human travel.”
Acuumyn wagged his index finger hard three times. “Apertures require a great amount of strength, power, and knowledge to operate.” He flipped his palms toward the glittery, star-lit sky. He raised his hands shoulder high, and wiggled his fingertips randomly as if he were playing an upside-down piano. “The larger the object taken through an aperture…” the rocks on the stone slab began to levitate and float, defying gravity with the slightest movement of his fingers, “the more strength of control is needed, and therefore, the weaker the immortal becomes that opened the aperture.”
Maximillian tilted his head. “Is it permanent?” He squinted one eye at an angled upward glance.
“What?” Acuumyn replied. The levitating rocks bumped into each other when he talked.
Revekka weighed in. “Is the weakness permanent after an immortal expends that large amount of power?”
Maximillian moved his chin down and then up again.
“No…it is only until regeneration occurs.” Acuumyn scratched his cheek. “Some immortals may regenerate strength in minutes, some hours, and others, not for days.”
Maximillian raised his hand. “I noticed that in this place, sleep is needed to regenerate from physical injuries. Maybe that’s why my power is strongest after I’ve rested awhile.”
Acuumyn puckered his lips in silent contemplation. “Perhaps.” He then refocused his thought. “But did you know that every aperture leaves a tiny, open window for a few seconds after it closes?”
Revekka perked up.
Maximillian crossed his arms.
“It’s true.” Acuumyn began lifting the small rocks, blades of plucked grass, and sticks several inches off the motionless stone slab. The items moved in rhythm, harmoniously bending to his willed gestures. “And these windows are called echoes. In theory, if one could leap fast enough, they could follow the one who opened the aperture.” Acuumyn crinkled two of his fingers back and forth on his right and left hands, causing a small rock to pin a blade of grass upon the stone slab. “However, this is dangerous, because one could be leaping into a trap, with no escape. Besides, apertures are always in a state of flux. An aperture can eject you in any one of a hundred other locations not even remotely close to the person that you were following in the first place. For instance, like in the middle of the ocean.” He flashed a brief, closed mouth grin.
Revekka closed her eyes and massaged her forehead. “We already know that apertures are like highways, rivers, and subway lines. It’s just a transit system.”
“Yes, and like any transit system, it has perils.” Acuumyn addressed her. “I see that you and Maximillian have done your fair share of leaping through apertures, but the Sphere Atlas opens important, new roads. Roads not just anyone can open. Not even powerful immortals are skilled enough to use the transit of apertures as they were intended to be used.” He pointed to the scrolls in their hands. “New apertures are opening all of the time, and sometimes old apertures close altogether, and can no longer be accessed. The Sphere Atlas is a very sought after thing.” He frowned, straining his eyes, while slanting his head. “It is a thing the Shroud will attempt to possess at any cost. For the Sphere Atlas is constantly updating the pipeline of apertures. This map shows where each aperture leads, which ones are still active, and what ap
ertures are one-way versus two-way streams of travel.”
Revekka looked down at her hand, which clasped around the scroll. She clutched it tighter, and said after looking back up at Acuumyn, “I’m ready.”
Maximillian too, squeezed his half of the map tightly, raising the scroll in hand to eye level. “Let the Shroud try and take this from me.”
With lips pulled in and closed, Acuumyn smiled. The corners of his mouth pleasantly extended up, and his cheeks outward. “Then I gather you accept your mission, dangerous as it may be?”
Maximillian and Revekka briefly looked at one another, and said loudly together, “Yes.”
“Then I need each of you to take the farthest route from the other until you deliver this to Caaron at the castle…”
Revekka interrupted. “Have you not heard? Caaron is gravely injured from his encounter with the dark lord of the Shroud, Malum.”
Acuumyn arched his neck until his chin bumped his chest. The rocks, grass, and sticks all fell lifelessly onto the stone slab. “I had not heard.” His manner flattened. His head gradually rose as his sagging eyelids peered intently into Revekka’s eyes. “And what of my son? What of Appollos?”
Revekka stared back. An eternal breath rushed up through her nostrils, releasing a swift lament. “I don’t know.”
“He’s all right.” Maximilian quickly blinked with a dipped nod. “Benoit has informed me that everyone else, including your son Appollos, is intact and doing well.”
Acuumyn sighed relief in a moment of strength and hope. His eyes retained a glimmer. “All is not lost.” He walked through the ruins, inviting his companions again to have a seat beside him on a large stone in among the magnificent Grecian relics. “Come. Tell me. What has your time here revealed to you?” He patted the large stone seat in front of him, ushering them to sit. “What have I missed?” Revekka and Maximillian warily sat, each at an angle, while facing Acuumyn as he spoke. “Humanity has not detected our presence in thousands of years. Yet we have been here since the beginning, and have fought to free their minds from the Shroud since the original rebellion,” Acuumyn finished with a lament.
Revekka and Maximilian glanced an off-center look at each other with an inquisitive frustration. Each delayed, and silently wanted the other to tell first. Neither spoke, so Acuumyn urgently motioned his hands in repetitive waves, prompting one of them to speak up.
“Well?” Acuumyn asked. “What say you?”
“It’s gotten bad over this last century,” Maximilian said, reluctantly breaking his silence first. He frowned, looked away, and down toward the lights in the valley. He rolled his tongue inside his mouth. “I have become discouraged and frustrated during my time with humanity.” He continued in a tangent. “As I already mentioned, the young knights who were trained to destroy the Shroud, have not only joined the dark lord Malum, but have become a powerful force of sinister warriors, loyal only to him throughout the world.”
“I see,” Acuumyn replied, while rubbing the side of his face. “Malum must have bigger plans than previously thought. This is even more reason the Sphere Atlas needs to reach the castle intact. The knights there can protect it.”
Maximillian’s eyes fell into sadness, before lifting them up at Acuumyn. “That is not all,” he continued. “The former, young knights do many things against humanity without empathy. They have greatly influenced mortals on a subconscious level, spreading fear, doubt, paranoia, and hopelessness throughout the earth.” His words charged ahead of him, and soon he became more provoked by the sound of his own voice. “Malum has appointed some of his new warriors as princes over many governments of the earth, in order to control the leaders and their blinded masses.” Maximillian balled straight fingers into fists, and gasped a deep breath from his lower belly. “There are also rumors that Dwellers, once extinct, have risen…Why just yesterday, I had heard a mother and daughter had gone missing in Paris. I believe the Dwellers have been hiding in the catacombs all of these centuries. Maybe if I go now, I can save the missing people…”
Acuumyn quickly sliced his hand downward, interrupting Maximillian. “They are just rumors.” He put his hand calmly back at his side. “The Dwellers…are all dead.” His chest swelled and sank rapidly with increased speed. He loudly blew air out his nostrils during the change in conversation. “They never should have existed in the first place. Those…those things.”
The skin between Maximillian’s eyebrows bunched together. “But how do you know they’re all dead?”
Acuumyn shouted the first half. “BECAUSE…” He gathered a moment of silence, uttering his next words intentionally short and low. “Ahem.” He cleared his throat. “I ordered their complete eradication.”
Maximillian sniffed. “No, that can’t be. But that would mean…” His eyes slowly widened. “I see.” He pinched his lips with his thumb and index finger.
Revekka gave a sorrowful glance at Maximilian, and squeezed shut her eyes. “This is not our way!” She then turned her head in Acuumyn’s direction. “They were all human once. Those Dwellers who attacked the world, nearly destroying all life, yes, they deserved death, but certainly we could have found a cure for the others?” Revekka’s voice mourned.
Acuumyn angled his face down toward his feet. “The only cure for a Dweller IS death,” he grieved. “You’re an empath, Revekka.” He paused, raising creased lines on one side of his forehead. “How is it you have not become insane from the suffering you have experienced through humanity?” He shook his head deliberately.
The three took turns pondering each other in a sort of hushed, tense reflection.
Maximillian overlapped his arms and furled his thin, tightly clamped lips.
Revekka’s bothered face softened, yet her eyes reflected solid optimism.
Acuumyn moved about restlessly, rocking back and forth, his shoulders flipped inward and slouched.
The cool night air set upon the warm stones of the ruins, pilfering their heat, and chilling them to the touch. The stars gathered with a showy display of spangled diamonds immersed from end to end in the black sky, as the universe watched, looking down from its sacred place.
Their eyes were fixed on the city below.
It was swarming with life.
It was packed.
It was bright, and filled with thousands of the socially isolated.
Some were good, some were bad, but all of them were misguided.
The valley seemed vast, but somehow sad with loneliness by comparison to the adjacent nearby mountains. Of all the things on Earth, only humans appeared grossly out of sorts with their surroundings.
Moving lights in the city below blinked along. Torrents drifted of food mixed with motor fumes, rushing up the mountain in pockets, displacing the peaceful, countryside air.
Horns beeped.
Music thumped.
A cluster of distant voices exploded, and multicolored lights filled the valley until the mountains turned dark. The stars recessed and dampened back from their natural brilliance.
Though Maximillian, Revekka, and Acuumyn appeared as immovable objects in a rapidly shifting environment, each knew change was coming, for both the mortal realm, and for the immortals like them.
The stoic Acuumyn covered his hands over his face and wept silently. Revekka put her hand on his back, while Maximillian leaned away, attempting to look up under Acuumyn’s face through his hands.
Revekka filled the awkward moment with her testament of faith. “The halflings still live, and I believe in the prophecy. Where many of the young, immortal knights failed, the halflings will succeed.”
“Bah! Is that it?” Maximilian hastily replied, shaking his head with a mocking, loud huff, and heavily crashing brows. “They don’t have what it takes to destroy the Shroud. The immortal war is coming to Earth, and you place all of your hopes on two aimless, half-breed teenagers?” he scoffed.
r /> Revekka’s demeanor remained unchanged. She did not shrink back, but boldly defended her case. “I trust the prophecy. The halflings are not alone. There are others besides David and his sister Danielle James, and those others, are being trained inside the castle as we speak. They are also young, but ready and willing to fight the invisible evil that dominates this realm.”
“Aw. Okay, so you have a few dozen human children, a handful of immortal knights, a few hundred mortal archers from the Bleary Guild, and a dying castle master in Caaron.” Maximilian frowned distastefully. “You can’t possibly expect them to defeat an entire realm that follows the Shroud, and then, defeat the Shroud!” He threw his arms above his head and limply flopped them down again. “Acuumyn, please talk some sense into her.” He pointed his index finger hard and fast at Revekka.
Acuumyn removed his hands from his moist face and pressed his lips together, appearing to raise a smile for them. He gently lowered Maximillian’s frustrated hands. He glanced back and forth between the two, and then said, “I admire you Revekka. You feel the best in everyone with your empathic nature. Yet, what Maximilian says is also true.” He gave a single head bob and wiped his lips with his salty fingers. “The self-proclaimed, dark lord Malum is a dangerous sociopath. And he presently rules everything in this world. The former knights—his new, young shadow warriors search constantly to murder our friends, as well as us. These once good, young knights, now serve only Malum and themselves. They have abandoned the way of knighthood to indulge in selfish fantasies.” Acuumyn’s voice briefly cracked. “Ahem.” He cleared his throat and started again. “Ah, but I do not believe in this all-knowing and powerful first immortal that Malum touts, yet, I do think the immortal war will rock the earth to its very foundation…” He hesitated. “Perhaps there is something even more ominous waiting for the last of the knights.” He shivered as a cool breeze stirred. “I can feel the cold winds of disruption blowing toward us as we speak.”