Read The Last of the Sages (Sage Trilogy, Book 1) Online
Authors: Julius St. Clair
The Last of the Sages (Sage Trilogy, Book 1)
Copyright © 2012 by Julius St. Clair
All rights reserved. This story or any portion thereof
may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever
without the express written permission of the publisher
except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This story takes place in the far, distant future of th
e
Alternate Ending Univers
e
. It is the introduction of James Alters and Catherine Herald, amongst many, many others…
www.theaeu.com
Chapter 1 – Slacker
His father chose his words carefully.
“Man up.”
It was a simple phrase, yet it humorously summed up his entire philosophy, particularly when it pertained to his son. Direct and painful. Always to the point. James recalled asking him once why every word that seethed out of his mouth was so intentionally hurtful, but the only answer he received was that his father hated saying the same thing twice. By being so blunt, no one could ever forget his words.
And he was right, of course.
Even when James was only half-listening, somehow the cruelty made its way into his subconsciousness, keeping him up at night and forcing him to mull over the same words spat at him each day.
Lazy. Worthless. Good-for-nothing.
Words he eventually believed…and it wasn’t like he had anything to prove the contrary. He was a teenager on the brink of adulthood, living with his single father on a dying, makeshift farm, and he had no desire to learn the family business, or anyone else’s for that matter. He was completely satisfied enjoying the leisurely life.
And funny enough, his father didn’t even have the farming knowledge to impart in the first place. He simply didn’t know a single thing about farming, yet he had still started one despite that fact, and no one had questioned his authority to do so.
He was that feared amongst the villagers.
Over time, James had learned to keep quiet whenever he was publicly in this man’s presence, but his father had made it a mission to turn his son into a man, and therefore, his tactics were getting more forceful and desperate with each passing year. He had begun yelling at James more and more as he grew, screaming over how he should wake up at four in the morning to prepare the pig feed or get that joke of a tractor up and running to plow through the rotting cornfields. And it was all for naught as James just ignored him…
Until now…
Now, things were different…
Maybe his father was just jealous.
Perhaps he was getting fed up with his son’s extended sleeping hours or his daily playtime with friends while he toiled away in the fields…
Either way, he had never expected him to go this far…
“You can’t be serious, Dad,” James said as his father dropped the eggs he was carrying onto the floor rather than the frying pan. His father bit his lip at the lost breakfast as James sighed heavily. He could see that his father’s frustrations were about to manifest in more familiar manners.
“I’m sick and tired of being sick and tired of you being lazy and tired all the time!”
“What?!” James scoffed, trying to hold back the chuckle under his breath. When his father got angry, it was hard to understand him. James had once told him that he should get that slurring thing checked out but he hadn’t thought it was funny. Neither did James.
“Are you even listening?” his father spat, his cheeks gaining some color behind his farm-tanned skin. He brushed a hand through his dirt-matted hair, causing some foreign particles to fall onto his recently washed hands. James made a mental note to skip breakfast.
“Believe me, I’m trying.”
“Honestly, James. What would you do in my situation?”
“Study linguistics.”
“Son, talk to me like a man. None of that child-game stuff.”
“All I want to know is why you would sign me up without asking me. You’re always telling me to ‘man up’ but you never give me a chance to.”
“I’ve given you a chance for nineteen years. Nothing’s changed. You never take the initiative. All you do is lie around and eat. When you’re not doing that, you hang out with your friends. At least they’re trying to accomplish something. At least they make their parents proud. Whenever our neighbors ask me about how you’re doing, I have to change the subject because it makes me ashamed that you’re my son.”
“Ashamed? Yeah, you should be because you’re the parent. You’re the one who’s supposed to raise me, teach me, care for me and you don’t. You work all day on a farm that never produces crops and nearly kills off all of its animals before winter even hits. You get up early and work all day and you have nothing to show for it. Nothing. You’re supposed to be my role model, but there’s nothing to model myself after.”
“So you become a bum.”
“At least a bum’s free to make their own choices
. I choose to sleep in and spend time with my friends because it’s what I like to do. What’s the point in working when there’s no reward in the end?”
“I have to provide fo
r
yo
u
,” he snapped.
“Yeah, but I don’t have a family to take care of. All I have is you, and as my father, you don’t even help me. All you do, whenever I try to make something of myself, is criticize me, and I don’t need that from you. You give up on me before I barely get my feet on the ground.”
“I’m not giving up on you. It’s just I really think the Academy will be good for you.”
“Why? Because someone else will be teaching me?”
“Obviously I don’t do a good enough job.”
“I said all that stuff to make a point, not shut you off!”
“I guess we really are related then, because that’s exactly what you’ve done to me since you were able to talk – shut me off. Nothing I say, no matter how I say it, gets through to you. So now, I’m trying fresh tactics.”
“Dad…but the Academy? If I…I mean…if,” James sighed heavily and quickly wiped away a tear that was welling up in his right eye. “Even if I survive the training, I’ll just get killed as soon as I go out onto the battlefield.”
“Good,” his father said coldly. “The fear will build character.”
“Dad, give me another chance. Please.”
“No, I’m done with that. We’re trying something new.”
“Have you even fought a day in your life? Seriously, when was the last time you stood for anything? Refused to give up on something?”
“I refused to take no for an answer with your mother.”
“I believe that’s called extortion.”
“You know, smart guy. You wouldn’t be here today if she hadn’t married me.”
“Guess I owe you a resounding thanks.”
“Besides, you should be worrying about yourself instead of what I accomplished in life. Whether I had to fight or not doesn’t make a difference. I worked hard to keep this farm running and the only reason you’ve enjoyed being a bum all day is due to my labor.”
James laughed at that last part.
“Dad, you’re too funny. The only reason we’re still alive is because you probably got a side job somewhere. We both know that field isn’t producing a thing.”
His father became solemn then, turning to the refrigerator to retrieve a new egg. James sighed and slouched in his seat. As his father began rustling through the contents of the fridge, he glanced around the kitchen, already missing one of his favorite spots in the small two-story ranch house. The kitchen was about as big as a walk-in closet but it still managed to bo
ast an impressive counter that swung half-way through the room, closing off the stove and cupboard which held hundreds of hand-stocked canned food, courtesy of his father’s labor. The lanterns that lit up the room were strategically placed in each corner of the room, with one hanging just above the stove for a little extra light while his father added the right spices to his signature raccoon stew.
The floor was spotless, and the word “rat” would never be uttered there. The neighbors dreamed of such a kitchen. The Alter family wasn’t rich by any stretch of the imagination, but that didn’t stop them from being the envy of many. Visitors just couldn’t wrap their heads around the lavish décor, and the other three rooms of equal size, composing the living room, his father’s bedroom and his son’s. For James to have his own room classified him as a king and no less than a spoiled brat by even the best of his friends, and though the farm was by far the bane of James’s existence, he did feel a sense of pride over their home. He tried not to dwell too much on the details of why they lived there lest he uncover some mystery that would result in their eviction, like his father was actually involved in crime or something of that nature. How his father could afford to own such a relative mansion was beyond everyone, including James. Despite the mystery, James wasn’t about to jeopardize his lifestyle for a little peace of mind…still…it was a beautiful home. The very least he could do was help with the cleaning…
James hung his eyes aimlessly on a random corner, shamefully realizing that he had no part in helping his father with the upkeep of their home. But, as soon as the guilt came, it left, as it always did…
It was a horrible practice of his. To forget. He could have probably avoided a lot of heartache and turmoil by retaining such emotions, but it was hard for him to remember anything he didn’t find important.
Sure, he could listen well enough.
The problem was that he just didn’t care.
So even though he felt bad for a moment, the thought passed just as quickly. In the end…he shrugged off his temporary shame and went through the motions that would ultimately lead to the end of the conversation.
“I’m sorry,” he replied autonomously. “I should’ve done more…especially after Mom left.”
“I understand you needed time to cope. You were little, and I know how much of a Mama’s boy you were –”
James’s apologetic demeanor cracked.
“- but I think four years is more than enough time for – how old are you now? Twelve?”
“You know I’m older.”
“I just call it like I see it.”
“Hey, is there an early carriage to the Academy? I think if I pack really fast, I can get there ahead of schedule. You know, decorate my dorm room.”
His dad laughed. He got the message.
“We’ll have plenty of time apart before tomorrow comes,” he said. “Though it seems like an eternity.”
“Tomorrow? What do you mean? I only have one day? One day?! Is that really all?”
“What does it matter? Am I cutting into your beauty sleep?”
“No, I mean…I only have until tomorrow to listen to your sarcasm and insults? Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I’m overwhelmed with joy.”
“About to cry, aren’t you?” his dad smirked and James responded in kind.
It was a moment that occurred all too often. A mutual understanding laced with macabre humor. An understanding that let them both know that there was no point in wasting each other’s time
.
Their relationship wasn’t workin
g
, and his father had decided it would be better for them both if James left.
James didn’t blame him. He knew he held his father back. From his dreams, his work, his honor. He was ashamed of his son and it was painfully obvious. The distant look that lost all emotion when he stared at his son from the corner of his eye; the clench of his fists whenever James opened his mouth in defiance. Every day that James lived in his house was one day closer to him losing his sanity.
Better for his son to leave now so that he could live his life free and clear. Or at least until James died...then he could go to the village square with a new song – one of his courageous son, who bravely joined the most dangerous academy in the whole world and fell by the sword with great honor and dignity.
It wasn’t said between them…but they both agreed that he wasn’t coming back.
No one returned from the Sentinel Academy.
No one.
There were no such things as parades or welcome home celebrations, letters sent home or postcards from exotic locations. Death had become so common for the families of the recruits that some even had a funeral for their sons and daughters the day after their departure. Still, the Academy would never close, no more than a morgue would. As long as there were living, breathing human beings to fill its walls, they would always be in business.
No one knew much about the school and what lay inside. There was simply an unsaid agreement that it was essential for their survival. No one talked specifically about what they were being protected from, but the citizens, especially the adults, were undeniably afraid of something. A creak of a settling building brought sighs of discomfort and yelps of surprise. A citizen running a little too fast for the general populace’s taste brought on cries of worry and a wave of shutting doors and windows.
And through the panic, their children suffered even more - of a fear of the unknown, never given an explanation as to what horrors ailed them so. The children were simply expected to obey their parents’ orders, because it was said to be best for their well-being. And James realized that this was the reason no one would come to his aid if he announced his father’s wrong. The youth may secretly uproar, but only in secret - over the fear that their own parents may see their disobedience and think they too needed a lesson in maturity. A lesson the Academy was sure to teach.
James loathed many of the parents for this reason, and not the Academy which could take his life.
He wasn’t completely oblivious. He understood the purpose of a training school. Whatever enemies the Kingdom had, whatever evils were outside their walls, it was necessary to keep them at bay. The Sentinel Academy – the training facility for the Kingdom’s infantry…they had to be doing an adequate job, even if no one ever returned to confirm this belief.