Enaya: Solace of Time (11 page)

Nile cautiously placed his hand on the table, releasing Enaya to roll in whatever direction it chose. “There, I did it.”

The gem rolled toward Norcross. He stretched out his hand, embracing Enaya, as it rolled under his arched fingers and against his palm. He closed his fingers tightly around it. “So much power—”

“In the palm of your hand,” Roland added. “That, Norcross, is magic.”

Norcross glanced to Roland, mesmerized. “And this world is filled with it?”

“Everywhere you turn,” Roland said with a sly smile.

Norcross looked at Nile. “Where did you go, boy?”

“To my past.”

“Why there?”

“It’s the only time I can see the people I love.”

“And?” Norcross asked. “Anything happen?”

Nile rested his elbows on the table. “I couldn’t interact with my past.”

Roland glanced to the floor, saddened, in a way that only Nile could relate to.

“What do ya mean?” Locklin asked.

“I mean you can talk, but you can’t touch. It doesn’t exist anymore. It’s just a memory. You might as well as be touching a ghost.”

       Norcross slammed his fist down on the table. “I’m the future, you’re the past. How do we interact?”

“I don’t know.”

“I do,” Roland said.

“How?” Norcross asked.

“Well, Nile made the decision to go forward instead of backward. Had you used it first and went backward, then all you would have seen was a memory of the earth. But we haven’t seen the future. We don’t know what exists and the past cannot be undone. When Nile used Enaya, he went into the future. It was that act that allowed him to bring you back. To this point, you’ve never existed, and from your world, we were just a memory.”

“I’m still confused,” Locklin said.

“Not to me,” Norcross said. “That makes perfect sense.”

“Do you have all your answers, Norcross?” King Aidan asked.

Norcross nodded. “I believe so.”

“Is there anything else then?”

“How do I get Silvago back to where it belongs?”

“I can do that,” Nile said.

Roland said, “All that needs to happen is for Nile to go back to Silvago. There, he will use Enaya and go back to your time period. Once there, he will need to step out in the wasteland from your city. Anything he touches or stands on will transport back with him.”

“Our whole city was connected,” Norcross said. “There is nothing separate, except for the underground tunnels. The concrete, the buildings, and everything in it. What happens when he steps on the wasteland? Will he bring it back?”

“Not if it’s just dirt.”

“We didn’t bring anything back from Walsh when we used it to bring their people here. What about their courtyard or their kingdom? We used it in the middle of Walsh,” Nile said.

“My desire was for the people to come to Woodlands, not the kingdom itself.”

Norcross laughed.

“Should we try this now?” Nile asked.

“No,” Norcross said. “We can tomorrow morning. It would be pleasant for us to see the trees. We’ve set up a perimeter for Silvago. Nobody will be able to leave the city for your safety. We don’t want people startled.”

“So tomorrow morning then?” Nile asked.

Norcross stood to his feet. “Thank you very much for your hospitality. However, I have a city to explain things to.”

“Very well then,” King Aidan said, standing as well. “Sleep well, for tomorrow we will begin your departure.”

Norcross looked around the room and nodded at everyone. He smiled at Nile and then turned. Locklin got up.

“Thank ya,” he said.

Together, they left the room.

Chapter 17

The Fall of Man

The sunset was even more beautiful than Norcross could remember. He sat at his desk, pencil in his hand, and a pad of paper with only scribbles before him. He watched through his window as the sun set over what he recently learned were the Elkanah Mountains. The trees blended into the city structure, crafting a prehistoric beauty that he had only seen in pictures and read about. The camera that sat upon his desk was now filled with such pictures. He leaned back, his chin resting on his knuckles, and was astounded to say the least, as he watched an ancient sun hide behind the problems of this world.

The worry of the day burdened his heart. He wanted so badly to fall asleep, but how could he? This was new to him. If anything, he was determined to stay up all night and enjoy it. He slapped his face, forcing himself to wake up a bit. He pushed away from the table, his chair rolling back, barely bumping into the bookshelf behind him, and he jumped to his feet. He stumbled to the window and stood before the setting sun, watching as the people of Silvago walked through the streets, observing the trees that tore apart their earth.

And he smiled.

“I could live here,” he whispered.

The sun’s rays glazed off the mountaintops, shining into the city, and Norcross immediately got the urge in his legs to go for a walk, just to breathe in the air from this atmosphere. He could walk a little ways to Woodlands and then come back. He wouldn’t be gone long. Norcross grabbed his camera from his desk and left his office.

Norcross was growing accustomed to the speed of time. Within a matter of minutes he had traveled through elevators, staircases, and through two large sliding doors. He stared up at the sky to see the canopy of brick and glass. He sighed, and then made his way toward the gate surrounding the municipality.

When he approached the gate, he nodded at the guards. They let him through without a word and he made one satisfying step from concrete to grass. He glanced back to the jungle he was born and raised in, and then looked to the jungle he’d only read about.

Norcross never really noticed the whistles from trains, the honking and mumbling of large-powered vehicles and the whoosh of the airships until he had walked further enough out to enjoy nature. He had grown to it over the years. Even so, he had ordered that the airships not fly out of Silvago. He had no intention scaring the people of this world.

The August wind blew, brushing against his face. His earlobes and nose chilled. He took a deep breath, feeling the wind brush sharply against the back of his throat. He buttoned up his trench coat and continued walking. Something brushed against his face, and when he looked, he saw an orange leaf spiral to the ground.

Norcross looked upward and watched as hundreds of leaves fell from heaven. He smiled. He had never really seen the lasting effects of August. He glanced back at Silvago, seeing some of the skyscrapers extend over the forest. He glanced toward Woodlands to see the tops of the castle poking through the canopy of trees. He still had a good walk before he could reach Woodlands.

He kicked the colored leaves around, and the earth crumbled with each step, and as he was passing through the forest, something black flew to a branch. A crow was sitting there watching him, and he thought nothing about it, so he continued to walk.

“This is what I’ve missed,” he said to himself with a smile, as if he were to burst out into a musical. He threw his hands up again. “I’ve been missing out on life. Look at how beautiful the world is.”

A crow landed in front of him, and he stopped walking. He stared at it for a second as it bobbed its head back and forth and then pecked at the ground, grabbing a worm. Norcross walked around it, and this time another crow landed on his shoulder. Norcross was startled.

He waved at the crow, and the crow jumped from his shoulder and fluttered to his other shoulder. Norcross waved again; the crow lifted off his shoulder, landed in front of him, and cried. Then another flew over and landed with the other crow, both beginning to peck at each other. More cries were heard. Norcross turned around, and half a dozen crows swarmed past him and joined the crows on the ground. He threw his hands over his head to protect himself.

“Damn!” Norcross cried, bringing his arms down from his head. The crows jumped around and brushed against each other, but then something odd happened, something that Norcross could not explain.

A wing extended from a crow and touched the side of another. The rib absorbed this wing as if it were liquid. Norcross watched, bewildered. The crow’s side swallowed the other crow, and Norcross slapped his face to wake up a few times. Then another crow pecked around and was quickly absorbed by another crow that jumped over its peers to catch it.

The crows grew, becoming one flesh. A tall, disgruntled figure stood emotionless. “You can call me Srinath.”

Now Norcross was scared.

“I have no desire to hurt you.” The creature walked to Norcross.

Norcross slowly stepped back.

“But you and I could work together as one.”

Norcross said nothing and quickly glanced over his shoulder to see the city. It seemed farther then what it should have been. Maybe he could outrun this Srinath. He thought against it.

“No need to be scared.”

“I don’t trust you.”

“Why? Is it because I’m dressed in black?” Srinath asked, laughing. His laughter sounded more like a gurgle.

Norcross looked at Srinath and studied his smile. His teeth were yellow, and his gums a tint of green. “I’m new to the area.”

“Ah! I see,” Srinath said, barely tilting his head as if he were watching wounded prey.

Norcross turned and began speed walking to the city, and then Srinath appeared in front of him.

“Why do you leave so suddenly?”

“I have nothing to do with you.”

“Aw! But you should.”

“Why . . . why is that?”

“Because this world can be yours, if you want it.”

Norcross stood still, gazing at Srinath. Then a cloud of black floated behind the creature and landed on the ground. Norcross noticed it was more crows, and he kept himself from panicking. The crows formed another figure.

“This is Ramiel, my brother,” Srinath said.

Ramiel said nothing.

“What do you want, Srinath?”

“I want you and your soldiers.”

“Why?”

“So I can get Enaya.”

“I know nothing of the sort,” Norcross said.

“You can keep this world as yours and populate it however way you want.”

Ramiel still said nothing.

“I don’t want any part of your wicked plan.” Norcross pushed between the brothers and walked toward Silvago.

“Enaya can be yours as well.”

“I have no desire to bring harm to other people.”

Srinath and Ramiel appeared before Norcross. “Look around,” Srinath said.

Norcross stopped, gulped, and slowly turned around. The dead trees came to life with creatures. They were invisible, and must have been there this whole time.

“What are those?”

“Ard’Ols,” Ramiel said. “We are the Lucian Empire.”

“Lucian Empire?” Norcross repeated, unaware of the name.

“The Lucian Empire,” Srinath said.

“How come you can’t see those things?” Norcross asked, looking at the Ard’Ols.

“They are hidden by the magic of the planets,” Srinath replied.

The Ard’Ols howled and jumped up and down in the trees. They clapped and screamed to each other, and then all at once, they jumped to the ground. Norcross was scared and wanted to get to Silvago as quickly as possible.

“Bring them down, Norcross.”

“How did you know my name?”

“I know everything.”

“I don’t care. I’m not being a part of the Lucian Empire.”

“You don’t have to be. Just join us, and you lead your soldiers, and I’ll lead mine. Together we could take control of Sienna.”

“I’m not interested in hurting this land or anybody in it. I only bring justice to those who do wrong.”

“Think about it,” Srinath said, leaning closer to Norcross.

Norcross stepped back, tossing his right arm in front of his face to distance himself. As he slowly stepped back, he tripped over a rock and fell to the ground. He placed his hands on the ground behind his back and squeezed the leaves.

“Stop letting your mind float in the direction of your heart. Stop and listen to the planets. This is your dynasty, Norcross, this is your destiny.”

“You don’t know me,” Norcross said.

“Allow me to show you.” Srinath threw his right hand out toward the sky and clouds turned gray and swirled, pulling closer together. Then the clouds joined in the middle and began to funnel down like a tornado. The trees swayed heavily from side to side as the tornado stretched to the tip of Srinath’s index finger. The wind pushed Norcross’s hair back, and he squinted as leaves smashed into his face.

Norcross pushed through the fear. There was a childlike bewilderment that fell upon him. The force of the wind now pushed down on Norcross’s face and the tornado blasted into white light that then faded away. His impression became more and more overwhelming.

“All this, Norcross, could be yours.”

“The power?” Norcross asked, leaning forward and resting his arms on his knees.

“I can give you anything you want.” Srinath threw his left hand toward Norcross, and a lightning bolt shot out and hit him in the chest. Norcross fell to his back and looked up at the sky. He reached for his chest and tried to feel the pain, but there was no pain. He felt much more alive than ever before. He slowly got to his feet and then dusted off.

“Test it,” Srinath demanded.

Norcross looked at Srinath in confusion, but after a few seconds he understood. He threw his hands out to the side, and fire formed at the tips of his fingers. His eyes widened and his heart raced. The smirk on his face spread into a wide grin, and he enjoyed what he was doing. There was something spectacular about the magic. There was something he loved.

“As a child, my brothers and I would pretend to be wizards and fight dragons. Now, here I am, forming fire with my own hands.” Norcross closed his hands and the flames intertwined with each other and shot out like fireballs.

One fireball smashed into the ground, forcing the earth several feet in the air. Dirt piled around the fireball like an atomic cloud of dust and the fire was no more. The other smashed into a tree, igniting the bark into flames. Srinath, smiling at Norcross, turned and arched his long, crippled fingers. The sound of ice cracking lurched through the forest and a long shard of ice appeared above Srinath’s hand. He flicked his fingers forward and the shard spiraled, hitting the tree, and spreading across the bark like a plague, extinguishing the flames.

“All this power can be mine?” Norcross asked, glaring at his hands.

“All of it,” Ramiel said, emerging from behind Srinath.

“So what do you say?” Srinath asked.

Norcross, ashamed of himself, lowered his head. When he was elected to govern Silvago, his campaign ran on peace. He never wanted to hurt anybody; he never really had the heart for it. But that magic was doing something in him. The magic that ran through his veins, pumped in his heart, planted a seed of hatred. He could feel the power grow inside of him quickly, as if he were consumed by the fire.

Then this world crossed through his mind. He would control the planet, the kingdoms, and the forests. The magic beat through his heart and he started to fall in love. A refreshing sensation tingled all the way down his spine. He knew what he was doing, he knew what he was about to do, but he couldn’t say no. He couldn’t control it, for the magic was empowering him.

If he governed this world like he did his city, then he could crossbreed. They could form new alliances, build stronger armies. He could make new laws and politics. He would be ruler. This and much more could be his. All he had to do was agree.

“You will join us and lead your men in an assault against this world.”

Norcross now found it hard to say no. “So what do I do?”

Srinath eased into a ghastly grin. “Kill them all,” he said. “Give them the option of joining our Empire, and if they refuse, then we will pile up their heads and burn them.”

“I’m not killing them.”

Srinath then thrust his hand upward and green flames ignited from his fingertips, swirling about each finger like a little tornado. The green reflected from Norcross’s face as he stood there, watching. “You will kill them.”

The magic consumed Norcross, and he agreed.

***

Within a matter of hours, Norcross was standing at a podium beneath a large dome in the center of Silvago. All the soldiers were standing in an open field before him and sitting in bleachers that circled the dome. There were nearly twenty thousand soldiers. As he stood on the stage, the soldiers clapped and shouted in excitement. Norcross smiled and loved the feeling of being the center of attention. He would always give a slight nod in front of his cheering crowd, a nod that was symbolic to the words, “This is my great life.” Sitting on the small stage behind him was General Javeiro, a bald man in a navy blue uniform with badges stretched across his chest and shoulders and down his arms. Locklin, the best pilot in Silvago, and a few other people who just attended meetings because they were part of the council that supported Norcross, were sitting behind him, listening intently.