Chosen (32 page)

He came to the town of Enisae just before nightfall. As he walked past the first of the buildings he saw the twin moons and their ghostly halos rise in the night sky. He began to shudder and shake, hands going to his face and tearing bloody gashes down his cheeks.

“The end is near! Flee for your lives! I have seen it!” He ran to the nearest villager, a middle aged man walking toward a pub. Fa' Vel held out his hands, showing the man the bloody flesh clinging to his fingers. “They can walk through solid rock.”

“You are talking nonsense. Now, please leave off.” The man tried to get past Fa' Vel but the dark magician had a hold of the man's shirt in a death grip.

“The seers have been saying that something is coming.” His voice came in a raspy whisper. His eyes were wide and red-rimmed, fevered. The tick was worse and he could not keep his left eye open for more than a few moments. “I have seen our doom!”

The man began to feel afraid of this stranger, who had obviously seen something to frighten the wits out of him.

“I must warn everyone.” Fa' Vel let go of the man, leaving bloody marks on his shirt. He half stumbled, half ran down the main street, shouting his warning to all who would listen. At first, no one paid him any mind. But as he went from town to town, word of him began to travel faster, and the people of the villages and towns watched for him. He would appear, yelling his tale of the Mystic and
his five followers who would bring about the end of the world. He ranted, pleaded, threatened, cajoled. Everywhere he traveled, he left a town full of suspicion and dread in his wake.

One night the moons rose and the rings were gone, as if they had never been. The people of Astra breathed a sigh of relief, sure things would get back to normal and that the seers and prophets would begin to see something other than the end of the world.

But things only got worse.

They continued to foresee the end of Astra and the doom approaching in the form of some huge colossal thing that would swallow up all life.

Word of Fa' Vel and his tale spread like wildfire across both continents. People began to fear and shun seers, prophets, Mystics, and those who had knowledge of charms and herb lore. The leaders of the two continents tried to stem the tide of fear washing across their lands but were unsuccessful. The people of Astra were on a mission; to purge those from their society they deemed as the cause of all of the fear and confusion.

G
ENTRA

“The last of the Chosen have arrived.” Master Ferrok, yellow body moving sinuously in the warm water, spoke to the other Masters: Hok, Druska, Briska, Miska, and Lerok. They were going over the latest reports on the progress of the Chosen, who had been training arduously for the past week. Not only had they been learning the Gentran language and customs, they had been trying to figure out a way for the telepaths to communicate with multiple Gentrans at one time.

“The Chosen have been marginally successful in working out the communications difficulties. The telepaths have managed communication with all members from one planet but cannot yet do so with members from multiple planets,” Miska reported.

“Perhaps the new arrivals can lend their expertise and insight to the situation,” Briska said.

“Perhaps.” Ferrok listened to the rest of the reports on more mundane matters. There was discussion about which fields to plant, where to move scrago, analysis of the geothermal activity under the ocean floor, mining the beautiful ores for construction of new buildings, and many other things requiring the attention of the head Master.

Number 5 spoke:

--Here are the new arrivals.

The Masters nodded their heads and at the same time two of the Chosen bowed their heads to the Masters. The others just hovered, staring all around them.

“I believe those two heard the telepath as well. Did you hear it?” Ferrok waited for Number 5 to communicate to the two Chosen. He noticed the two were identical in every way, except for the obvious traits that separated male from female. Their bodies were exceptionally breathtaking, in hues of purples and blues, laced with delicate pinks. Ferrok sensed
something
different about the two. He decided it must be the magical ability that some Astrans possessed.

Saemus and Kaelin nodded.

“It would seem you have moved beyond only being able to communicate with beings from a single planet,” Ferrok said.

--Affirmative.

Ferrok waited for more. That was one of the most frustrating things about the Kromins. They did not feel the need to embellish. A simple yes or no was enough for them. Ferrok supposed that when one lived life with the mind open to others around you, they could pick up on the details without having to expend the effort to explain.

“I would like to present my Chosen.” Brok introduced all five. They tried to bow to the head Master as Brok introduced them, but failed dismally. They rolled over face first and had to rely on the others for help to straighten back up. They blushed and tried to hold the laughter inside but could not do so. Neither could the Masters. The spectacle before them was just too much. It felt good to laugh. There had not been much to smile about lately. Ferrok could almost sense the Mekans coming, like some great, dark force that swallowed light and warmth. The strange behavior of the prophets of late had also contributed to the absence of mirth.

“What is special about the two of you?” Ferrok pointed to the Barlow twins. He spoke aloud so Brok and the other Masters could hear. This form of communicating with words to some and with thoughts to others was strange indeed.

Saemus answered via Number 5:

--I think you are sensing our powers. My sister and I can combine our magic.

“Ah. A useful gift.” Ferrok frowned. “I also sense something strange about this one.” He pointed to Jon. “I cannot explain it.”

“That is a tale for another time. I am anxious to bring these young folk to meet the others,” Brok answered.

Ferrok frowned but did not argue the point. He had sensed something dark and dangerous about the boy.
I must get Brok alone and have the answer to this riddle.
“Very well. But we
will
speak later.”

Brok herded the Chosen out of the room followed by Number 5. The last thing he wanted to do was discuss Jon's acquisition of forbidden powers. Though he hated to admit it, Jon made him uncomfortable.
The boy is stronger than I am when he wields the dark magic.
He knew Jon was a good lad and hoped he could resist the urge to draw on the fell power. Brok also worried that he would be forced to ask the boy to use the powers in the fight to come. As the group made their way to where the Chosen were housed, he glanced at the small domicile where his sires and siblings had lived. At hearing the news that his sires had passed not long after he had left through the portal, he had felt a surge of anger and regret. He had hoped time would pass more slowly here on Gentra than on Astra so that he could see his family and explain why he had been taken from them so long ago.

Seeing his childhood home and the faint movement behind the windows as his siblings moved about brought back all of the anger.
I have given so much and asked nothing in return, only hoped to see my sires
again.
He took a deep breath and buried those feelings. They did him no good.

I have a new family now.
He looked around at his Chosen making their way through the dark Gentran water.

--The small one is wondering if they may take a moment to visit the scrago. Number 5 broke into his thoughts.

Brok nodded and followed the excited group to the pens holding a half dozen scrago. The large domesticated beasts came quickly to the edge of the pen, vocalizing their excitement at the approach of the newcomers. The Chosen petted and stroked the animals, emitting little squeaks and clicks, though without making any recognizable words. The scrago basked in the attention, eyes half closed.

Brok allowed them a few more moments before herding them on toward their destination. He was weary and needed to sleep. Since returning, he felt he had aged many years.
I wonder how long I have until I pass?
As the eldest of the Guardians, that was a sobering thought.
I only hope I last long enough to see the Chosen fully trained.

“Would you like to spend some time with the others, or have you experienced enough for the day?” Brok waited while Number 5 translated.

--We want to meet the others.

“Very well. I will come for you in the morning.” Brok conveyed to the telepath. He glided away, anxious to arrive at his room so that he could sleep.

The six Chosen made their way to the main audience chamber that had been designated as where the Chosen could congregate without being disturbed by anyone. Their true identities were known only to the Masters, the prophets, and a few trusted servants. It was not yet time to announce to all Gentrans that danger was coming and that a handful of beings from far-flung worlds stood between them and the danger.

Perhaps we can help find the solution.
Gwen glanced at the others and felt a flash of jealousy as she observed the radiance and beauty of Saemus and Kaelin, their larger size compared to her own.
But in
the water, I am as graceful as any of them.
That thought made her feel better.

As the group arrived at the audience chamber, Gwen noticed a commotion to one side of the room where a very large male Gentran with a pale green body slashed with darker green was gesturing wildly with all four arms. The colors of his body changed rapidly, a clear indication of his agitation.

Gwen was approached by a large female with a yellow body slashed with pale orange along with another of the telepaths, this one wearing the number 2.
She is as large as the male.

--Welcome. I am called Seelyr and I am from the planet Volgon.

--I am Gwen, from Astra. How long have you been here?

--It is hard to say. This race does not keep track of days and nights like my planet.

Seelyr closed her eyes for a moment.

--I would guess no more than a week. We were the first group to arrive.

Gwen introduced her fellow Astrans to Seelyr.

--Why is that large male so upset?

Seelyr shook her head in disgust and waved her arms.

--Pay no mind to Feeror. He is angry because he has not been able to single-handedly find a way for the telepaths to communicate with us all.

--Why would that make him angry?

--He is the one who created the most powerful weapon on our planet. It is a weapon that uses sound to destroy an enemy.

Seelyr gave Feeror a look like a mother would to a much loved but exasperating child

--In his mind, the telepaths should be able to use the same sort of idea to communicate with us all.

Gwen swallowed hard at the description of the sound weapon.
I wonder if any of us could kill with our power?
She felt frightened at the matter-of-fact tone of the voice that asked the question. And yet the curiosity remained. She turned to the telepath, anxious to have some questions answered as well as to stop the previous train of thought.

--Exactly how is it that you communicate with us?

--I pick up your thoughts and transmit them to another.

Gwen waited for more.
There has to be more to it than that
.

--Just before, I was thinking about the weapon that Seelyr spoke of, and yet you did not communicate anything to her.

--There is a difference in the patterns of thoughts you wish to convey to others and those that are…private.

--But how does it work exactly? You do not use words, more like implanting the knowledge instantly.

--That is essentially how it is done.

--Why have you been having difficulty communicating with all of us at once?

--Even though we share the same physical form, there are subtle differences between all of us from different planets. The brain patterns are complicated. We are a mixture of ourselves and the Gentrans. It is difficult to convey the messages to more than one group as we are having to implant in a brain that now has two distinct patterns.

Seelyr asked:

--So you can only hone in on one particular pattern?

--We have been partially successful in contacting those from two separate planets.

Gwen nodded, remembering that Saemus and Kaelin had been able to “hear” the telepath while he was addressing the Masters.

--All of the Chosen are here. Why don't you and the others practice reading from all the different groups?

Number 2 nodded, and soon everyone in the room was grouped around the five telepaths. The Volgons simply nodded at those they were introduced to, their four arms folded across their muscular chests. The Earth Chosen reached out and shook hands, often to the bewilderment of those subjected to such a strange greeting. The Astrans bent their heads as they were introduced to everyone. It took time for the exchange of names.

It felt right, for them all to be in one room, together for the first time. It was a fantastic sensation, as if none had been complete until this very moment. Gwen looked at them and it was as if they'd known each other all their lives. It was something she was more familiar with when it came to those from her own world, but it was true for those she had just met.
I wish I could ask everyone if they felt as I do!