Authors: Alecia Stone
Tags: #Romance, #Fantasy, #Young Adult, #Speculative Fiction, #Mystery
‘But what if I’m not him?’ Charlie wanted to say. He cast his gaze around the desolate city then at the group, all armed and ready for whatever came their way.
If I’m not him,
Charlie wondered,
is this what will happen to the surface world?
It was only mid afternoon but the black clouds overhead cast a dark shadow over the city. When Charlie saw Demetrius with one hand in the air, his heart gripped with fear. It was a signal.
The group huddled against the side of a building.
‘Archons,’ Demetrius confirmed. ‘I count five, but there could be more.’
It is a chance we have to take,
Avaran said. He looked at Oren.
Do not hesitate. When you see a clear path, make your move.
Oren nodded. Avaran addressed Charlie.
Remember, stop for nothing. You will be safe once you are inside.
Following Avaran’s lead, the others took off.
Charlie glanced around repeatedly, feeling unsteady now that it was only him and Oren. She must have noticed his edginess for she gave him a reassuring smile, saying, ‘It will all be over soon.’
No sooner had she spoken than an eruption of screams catapulted into the air. Charlie poked his head around the wall, glancing over Oren’s shoulder. Energy balls were flying back and forth between Isis and a dark-haired demon, who had to have once been an Aeon, and the only one among the group of Archons, it seemed, as only angels could discharge energy balls.
Avaran switched between his spirit and physical form as he fought a red-haired, muscular woman. He could only see in spirit form but could only battle in physical form.
When only three demons remained fighting, two taken down by Ash and Terra, Oren seized Charlie’s wrist, her claws strapped around him like cuffs, and they took off.
Charlie expected the demons to charge at them as they bounded along the street, but they were busy defending themselves. He managed to catch a glimpse of the building they were heading towards. With its symmetrical brick structure, decorated pilasters, and hemispherical dome, it looked like a museum, inscriptions of its history carved into the ancient stone wall. It stood out from the rest of the buildings, as it was the only structure devoid of damage. It was as if there was a protective halo around it.
A shrill cry interrupted Charlie’s thoughts, and he glanced around and saw the demon Avaran had been fighting on fire. Avaran slashed his sword through the woman, who shattered into dust.
Charlie and Oren dashed up the front steps, passing two statues – a lion and a lioness – as they headed towards a large arch entrance that led them to double wooden doors. The noise of the battle diminished as the doors closed behind them.
For a moment, Charlie and Oren stood in darkness. He felt her squeeze his hand, and then her body pressed against his. ‘Say rozeltip,’ she whispered in his ear.
‘Rozeltip?’
As soon as the word flew out of Charlie’s mouth, the floor, walls, and the ceiling came alight. Charlie’s jaw dropped as he gazed around the great hall, inscriptions everywhere. The white light seemed to be shining through the stone interior. He spotted eight cubed seats in the centre of the square room, arranged in the same circular fashion as he had seen inside the Tower of Pir. Past the seats, at the far end of the room, he saw a large golden statue sitting with its legs crossed. When he glanced up at the statue’s head, he paused. It had no head. Instead, a large yellow disc rested on its shoulders.
Charlie glanced at Oren, who was gazing at him with a mesmerised look on her face. ‘Rozeltip means lights,’ he guessed.
Oren smiled and nodded. ‘We are safe in here.’ She let go of his hand and advanced into the room. ‘Demons cannot enter.’
‘Why not?’ Charlie glanced up at the first floor balcony lined with columns.
‘We are standing on sacred ground,’ Oren said. ‘Welcome to the Temple of El. Only those with pure intentions may enter. There is a shield around it, protecting it from harm.’
Charlie moved towards Oren, his eyes surveying the inscriptions on the walls. There were so many. It was strange, he thought, how he could understand French and Spanish but not Arcadian, the language of his so-called homeland. ‘So, this is where the Hall of Records is.’
‘The doorway is here, somewhere.’
‘It’s not inside this building?’
Oren shook her head. ‘You can think of this place as the road to the Akashic Records.’ Her eyes lowered, and her expression turned to shock. ‘Stop!’
Charlie froze. ‘What?’
‘Look down.’
Charlie glanced down at his feet, and his eyes widened. A smoky yellow light was issuing out of the floor, swirling around his feet. ‘Why is it doing that?’
‘I have never witnessed such a sight,’ Oren hissed.
Charlie looked at her. ‘What do I do?’ he asked in a strained voice.
‘Remain where you are. You are standing on the symbol of protection. It is a good sign.’
Charlie looked back down at his feet and observed the symbol.
For a split second, he thought he saw the swirling light transform into a snake, and he blinked. In that moment, a sudden feeling of calm washed over him. His body started to feel less tense, and he relaxed his shoulders. ‘Come here.’ He glanced up at Oren and saw the hesitant look on her face. ‘It’s okay. I want you to feel this.’
Oren approached him with caution, her gaze on the floor. She stopped just outside the circle. Charlie stepped forward and took hold of her hand, pulling her inside the circle.
‘Do you feel that?’ Charlie asked.
Oren looked up at him with a smile. ‘I feel safe.’ ‘I feel invincible.’ He smiled. ‘I can do this –’
The double doors burst open, and Charlie spun around.
The others – all five of them – marched into the room. Some had their clothes torn in places, ichor, and blood seeping through open wounds. To Charlie’s surprise, they appeared to be unfazed by the event that had just taken place. Glancing back down at his feet, he saw that the swirling light had vanished. He and Oren stepped out of the circle.
Send out a signal,
Charlie heard Avaran say. He turned round and saw him addressing the Arcadians.
We are going to need assistance.
Avaran’s eyes fixed on Charlie.
Shall we?
Charlie glanced at Oren, who gave him an encouraging wink. The others were silent, and for the first time, they seemed uneasy. He followed Avaran back towards the double doors and through to the atrium, which he noticed was relatively quieter. The street outside the entrance looked deserted.
Charlie,
Avaran called.
Charlie glanced to the left and saw the Guardian standing at the bottom of a set of steps, his spirit form illuminating the passage. Charlie followed him up to the first floor. ‘How do we get to the Hall of Records?’ he asked.
Just keep an open mind.
As they headed along the upper landing, Charlie glanced down at the others, who were sitting on the cubed seats.
What do you see?
Avaran asked.
Charlie turned to him and stopped. He hadn’t realised Avaran was no longer beside him, for his spirit body produced no footsteps. He turned round and froze when he saw the blue door in the wall.
Astonished, he looked from Avaran to the door.
Avaran must have been smiling for his eyes brightened in an instant.
A prophesy untold.
His voice was so low it was barely audible, but Charlie heard the excitement in his words.
Charlie walked over to the door, white light shimmering beneath it. For years, he had wondered why it was he never seemed to fit in anywhere. Now he was about to find out the truth. He raised a shaky hand towards the doorknob and pushed it open.
He stopped breathing.
It was just how it had looked the first time he’d seen it inside the crystal ball. Before him was a passage with a misty floor. It had the same pillars and a background of stars with intermittent bursts of purple energy bolts.
‘What does this mean?’ he asked, though he knew the answer from the moment he saw the door – the door that wasn’t supposed to be there. He glanced at Avaran and was surprised to see him in physical form, down on one knee with his head bowed.
Avaran looked up at him. ‘It means our king has returned.’
The Looking Glass
LIFE SUCKS, AND THEN you die – or become King of Arcadia, Ruler of the earth kingdom. Charlie stared at the large floating globe in front of him. He and Avaran, who was once again in spirit form, had been in the square room for only a few minutes, but it felt like ages.
How could this be happening? Charlie wondered for the hundredth time. His mother had known. She had written in her letter that he was different. Different was a five-year-old child with an IQ of a hundred and fifty. Different was a chimp that did sign language, being fluent in twenty languages, a blind sculptor. An angel in human form was not what he considered as being different. What was more provoking was that he had no recollection of his life as an angel. How was he supposed to fulfil whatever covenant he had agreed to before he descended to Earth if he couldn’t even remember who he was?
He wished he could turn back time. Everything had seemed so simple before he had found out about Arcadia. Now, that life seemed so far away he couldn’t even picture it anymore.
George Odessa,
Avaran said, ending Charlie’s thoughts. A collage of holographic images shot out of the globe and hovered in front of them. They were images of George in different stages of his life. Each segment changed in quick flashes. As if he sensed what Charlie was going to ask, Avaran said,
I told Derkein I would find out what happened to his father.
He scanned the images and selected one. The attack scene Charlie had dreamt about replayed inside the globe. He saw a semiconscious George lying amid a pile of books and broken wood of a damaged bookcase. George mumbled something Charlie couldn’t decipher, then a groan escaped his mouth, and he disappeared into thin air.
Darkness swamped the globe.
‘What happened?’ Charlie asked.
He was teleported.
To the globe, Avaran said,
Present.
Images flashed by so fast Charlie couldn’t tell what he was looking at. Then it stopped, and he saw a man sitting on the ground in the corner of a dark room with a low ceiling, no windows, and a metal door.
Charlie studied the man’s face and was shocked when he realised it was George Odessa. He had grown a scruffy beard that masked his gaunt cheeks.
He is alive,
Avaran’s voice said inside Charlie’s head.
Barely,
Charlie thought. ‘Where is he?’
We can only observe what George sees. They would have shielded his eyes.
‘He doesn’t have the talisman, so why don’t they let him go?’
Avaran looked at Charlie.
Realising George was not in possession of the talisman, they would have returned to the house, noting Derkein’s disappearance. They know he has the talisman, so they intend to use George as a bargain.
‘They need him so they won’t kill him, right?’
Avaran looked back at the globe.
Yes, as long as they need him.