“My sincere apologies. How rude!” Stuart said realizing his omission. “Margaret, this is Akil Karanis,” he said, sweat now beading on his forehead.
Akil extended his hand. Margaret, being ever stubborn remained seated and only looked at the man as he attempted to greet her. Stuart stepped forward to reprimand his wife for her impropriety and Akil raised a silencing hand.
“I imagine the conversation that preceded my entry has left you in a state of enthrallment only to be out-done by what is to follow and therefore excuse your absence of social grace,” Akil said with a smile.
Margaret couldn’t tell if she was being insulted or compliment so she simply remained seated and said nothing. She was glad to have someone to interrupt her husband’s nonsensical storytelling. Stuart rounded the desk and sat while Akil leaned slightly against the bookshelf and looked at Stuart.
“Where was I?” Stuart asked. “Yes, of course. Sure enough after another meeting of parliament the following winter, Mr. Ogilvy approached me again. He said there would be a gathering that very night of the magical council and he would like me to attend. I agreed. Ogilvy took me into the basement of the parliament building away from unfaithful eyes. Once again he removed the marble-size bag from his cloak and encased us in what he called transporting powder.”
“An instant later we stood upon a grassy plateau in yet another land with which I was unfamiliar. Ruins of an ancient civilization stood nearby. Below us were mountains and valleys surrounded by clouds. Imagine being above the clouds, looking down on them. It was almost as if we were hovering above the earth.”
“Perhaps it would be best if I took it from here,” interrupted Akil.
“Of course,” replied Stuart.
“Margaret, my dear,” said Akil, looking deep into her eyes. “I’m about to do something which may come as quite a shock. It may be best if you sit back in your chair.”
Margaret nodded and slid slowly back until she was up against the rest. Akil nodded, took a step back, and extended his right hand. He muttered something neither of the others could hear, and a blue orb of light rose from the palm of her hand. Rather than scream, which is what Stuart thought Margaret would do, she sat transfixed as the orb rose and expanded. Soon the room was enveloped in the light and a new scene formed in front of them.
Shadowed figures converged on an amphitheater of sorts in the center of the plateau. It was nothing more than rows of halfmoon-shaped stone benches with grass between them. In the center was a lectern. Ogilvy led Stuart silently to a hill overlooking the amphitheater. Nobody spoke a word until all had been seated and the sound of shuffling bodies subsided.
Once the quiet had settled, a rather large man pried himself from his seat and hobbled to the lectern. He paused, surveying the crowd before he spoke. “As we are all aware,” the large man said, “the precariousness of our current situation continues to worsen. With each setting of the sun the
Epoch Terminus
draws nigh. Despite the generations of searching, we are no closer to finding the anointed one.”
He glanced over at a man sitting on the bench across from where he stood.
“Coupled with the approach of the
Epoch Terminus
,” he continued, “and our lack of preparation, the unfaithful continue to push us away. They’ve managed to convince each new generation that our ways are nothing but fairy tales . . . smoke and mirrors. So blind are they to reality that they’re willing to ignore history itself. Humanity was set back nearly 1500 years when the early Anglo-Saxons invaded Britain so long ago and we were powerless to do anything as the uncultured pagan barbarians destroyed the advanced civilization we’d created. Why? Because our laws forbade open war against the unfaithful.”
“We gather,” the man said, “to ensure our survival. The threat is real. The
Epoch Terminus
will arrive while our generation is in power. If we have not deciphered the clues left by The Seer and located the anointed one we all shall perish. I believe at the hands of the unfaithful. I believe that is the end The Seer did not detail.
“We run, we hide, yet every one of us has the power to turn and fight.
We
are superior. The unfaithful are no match for our powers. Every one of us can influence, control, and some of us can even kill with mere words. Yet we continue to cower. The time for diplomacy has passed. We must act or we will fall. Not one among us wants his children growing up in exile.”
More fervent applause followed this statement. He shuffled back to his seat as another man stood. Tall, thin, and agile, he looked the opposite of his predecessor. It was Akil Karanis. He did not hesitate to begin speaking.
“Not one among us wants our children growing up at war. In that, we are no different than the so-called unfaithful. Our knowledge and tolerance obligates us to act for the good of all humanity. Not solely for the good of our own kind. We are all humans. We are all brothers. Wielding a power simply because one posses it would be the epitome of ignorance,” Akil said.
“Because we have an understanding of magic we are bound by our laws to protect those who are ignorant. Not destroy them. There are ways to co-exist without violence. For centuries the unfaithful have been at war between themselves because of differences in their own beliefs. We have not intervened. Yes, much was lost with the Celts. In the end they were given a choice and chose to fend for themselves just as we chose to leave. Today, they are frightened of us. They do not remember when we lived in peace side-by-side. Men fear what they do not understand regardless of their beliefs. Rather than keep to ourselves let us allow them understanding and abate their fears.”
A small bald man in the front row stood. “Lest you forget, Akil, that too is against our laws.” The man squeaked, sitting as quickly as he stood.
“A law this counsel created centuries ago. Perhaps it is time to amend our laws.”
The fat man who originally spoke quickly stood.
“If we change any of our laws it should be to allow us to retaliate against those who persecute us, not educate them. Remember they want us dead,” he shouted.
“You assume much, Alvero, with your statements. Nowhere in The Seer’s recounting of the events leading to the
Epoch Terminus
is there mention of a war between faithful and unfaithful. Inaccurate generalities won’t solve our problems. This is no time to take action in haste. There are ways to live in peace, and we are bound to seek them, not ignore them by taking an easier road. We have been outcasts since the beginning of history. Because those who don’t believe are taking formal actions against us now is no reason to destroy them. Let them write us out of their history. We have our own historians, our own history. The higher road is ours to take.”
“Now, the reason we gather is not to express our dissatisfaction of our relationship with our fellow man. We need not waste another minute discussing it. As I said, The Seer declared nothing of the sort. The Epoch Terminus approaches as Alvaro has mentioned. My search continues. I believe I am close to deciphering the last of the criteria. I request of the counsel that all resources available to it be at my disposal in order to once and for all find he who The Seer spoke of. Time runs swiftly.”
The man removed an ornate pocket watch from his robes, opened the lid and shook his head with a concerned expression as he returned to his seat. Three others stood and moved to the lectern. The tallest of the three, a woman with straight black hair reaching past her waist, was the first to speak.
“We have heard from our party leaders. It is apparent a rift exists.
The man next to her picked up where she left off. “I fear indecision may cost lives.”
The third, a woman spoke. “This is no time for impulse. We must find the anointed one or we all shall perish.
“Akil, we grant you the authority to command the resources of the counsel. You have one rotation. May all speed and grace be with you,” the tall woman said.
Akil stood and bowed. The fat man jumped to his feet. “It was this fool who unleashed that monster upon us and you’ll give him the authority to continue his nonsensical efforts?” he screamed, jowls shaking.
“The fact that we have yet to find the anointed one tells us only that we’ve failed to recognize the severity of the circumstances, Alvaro. Akil may have taken missteps, but he alone has been active in this pursuit for such a time. Our focus is the
Epoch Terminus
and nothing else as so it should be for all of us. With respect to the unfaithful, every one of us is to blame for our inability to coexist. Remember that when you return to your homes,” the smaller woman said, looking out over the crowd. “
We
all have failed. In one rotation, we shall meet at Skara Brae.”
Not another word was spoken. David Ogilvy led Stuart to the edge of the plateau, and a moment later they were back in the parliament basement. The scene faded to white then reformed. It was the very same room the three of them sat watching Akil’s memory orb.
Stuart was sitting at his desk when a flash of light by the door caused him to shield his eyes. When he lowered his hands, Matthew Ogilvy was standing by the door.
“I apologize for barging in like this,” said Ogilvy, “but the time has come for us to discuss something of great importance.
“Of course,” said Stuart, standing.
“Brandy?” he asked, filling his own glass.
“Please,” replied Ogilvy.
Stuart poured a second glass and handed it to Ogilvy.
“There is someone else who will be joining us, “ Ogilvy said after sipping his drink.
Just then there was a flash of light and the Akil Karanis stood in the doorway. He immediately smiled when he saw Stuart.
“James Stuart, meet Akil Karanis,” Ogilvy said.
“The older man balled his right fist, pressed it into his left palm and bowed slightly. Stuart returned his greeting with a nod.
Akil pointed to the brandy and asked if he could help himself. Stuart hastily handed him his own glass, reassuring him that he had just poured it, and fixed himself another.
“Shall we sit?” Akil asked, assuming the role of host.
“I have asked David to introduce you and I, Mr. Stuart. I’ve been looking forward to this for quite some time.”
“You’ve been looking forward to meeting me?” Stuart asked.
“‘Indeed,” he replied as if I was silly to doubt the authenticity of his statement.
Stuart looked questioningly at Ogilvy.
“I haven’t been completely forthcoming with you James,” Ogilvy said. “I’m privy to information that you weren’t ready to hear.”
“While the general concept of the information is common knowledge among our kind,” Ogilvy continued, “realizing that you were the subject was quite difficult. The faithful had been searching for this information over many generations, trying to piece together clues of a prophecy made several thousand years ago by the greatest of seers. Just recently, Akil was able to discern the meaning of the final unsolved clue.”
“And this prophecy has led you to me?” Stuart asked.
“Most certainly, Akil replied.”
“What is it the prophecy said?” Stuart asked.
“It translated to ‘the son of a noble lord, born among unfaithful would rise and lead mankind through the Epoch Terminus. Without whom all shall perish,” said Ogilvy.
“Surely that I cannot be the only son of a noble lord born among unfaithful.
“This is where the clues are of particular relevance,” said Akil
“The first specifies the geographical area where he would be born. The second details the bloodline. The third unveils the surname. The final clue, which has until most recently remained un- or misdeciphered, details the abilities of the one whom The Seer spoke of.”
The three men sat in silence for a moment.
“And you believe I am the one to which the prophecy refers?” asked Stuart, his hands shaking.
“The prophet specified the fourth line of his father’s name,” said Akil.
“But I am only the third,” Stuart began then stopped abruptly.
“James. My son,” he said in almost a whisper.
“Yes, it is not you we seek but your son. Before the pyramids were hewn from the stones of the desert, it was written by our kind.
He
will lead us through the dark hours that draw closer with every breath I take,” Akil said.
Akil reached into his pocket, removed his ornate pocket watch, flipped it open, and again shook his head with a concerned expression before snapping it shut.
“James is barley three. What could he possibly do?”
“Much must be done to prepare, and I’m afraid we have precious little time,” said Akil, ignoring Stuart’s question.
“How are you certain that James is the one spoken of by the seer?”
“Understand, Mr. Stuart, Akil wouldn’t be here if he wasn’t.”
“What is he supposed to do? How is he supposed to lead? He is barely three years old.”
Stuart looked at Akil. The friendly expression remained on his face. He exuded confidence in a calm, reassuring manor. His humble posture appeared to relax Stuart.
“We merely have to show the council that he is in fact the one to which The Seer refers. That shall be left to me. You, Mr. Stuart, must prepare,” Akil said.
“Why must I prepare?” Stuart asked.
”You must begin you training.”
“But I am not the one . . .”
“You are correct,” Ogilvy interrupted, “However, you are his father. No man has greater influence over a child than his father. You must therefore be trained in the teachings most important for your son.”
“Magic?” asked Stuart.
“Faith, survival, negotiations, and combat. All are essential to James’s success.”
“I thought your kind was peaceful,” said Stuart.“
“Each facet of my training will be preceded by a lengthy explanation of its relevance.”
“To begin when?” Stuart asked.
“This very moment,” replied Akil.
Again the scene faded to white then reformed. The three men were standing on the grassy plateau where the council meeting took place. They were the only people in sight. Akil wandered off quietly, leaving Ogilvy and Stuart in each other’s company.”