The Last Summoning---Andrew and the Quest of Orion's Belt (Book Four) (63 page)

She has kept many a man alive in desperate
conditions. She has won wars, medals, and has crossed many finish
lines. She has given birth, united lovers, traversed nations, kept
friends with the lonely, built castles, downed dungeons, released
captives, crowned kings, helped strangers, united kingdoms, and
kept people warm. In hope, all inventions, muses, progress, live.
Hope is indeed powerful.

In hope, breath without heartbeat is felt. For hope
is a heartbeat, one that cannot easily die.

How long the bell of Conroy sounded out through the
darkness, before it stopped, no one could tell. But while it
sounded, those who listened to it knew that its sound was the only
thing keeping them from the brink of despair. It tolled on, never
diminishing in strength of voice, only growing louder and more
desperate. Where hope’s voice called, the cover of darkness was
momentarily lifted. Those who accepted hope’s humble
offering---however small---partook of what light and truth she had
to offer. At the magnificent sound, slumped backs straightened,
people’s feet became sure. Wavering hearts decided. Those who had
felt overwhelmed by despair suddenly looked up towards the
blackened sky. Something inside them began to come alive, like a
forgotten, broken cog, long since rusty and failing, moved by a
force stronger than that of an anvil. It began to call them into
action. Hope was beginning to take flight, slowly, one heart at a
time. But that was how anything great started.

One at a time.

The bell of Conroy had awakened, and with it,
the world was beginning to stir.

Lancedon had stood transfixed by the voice of
the bell ringing out through the darkness. The sound had peeled
through the air, sounding more beautiful and haunting than anything
he had ever heard before. Though he could not see its light, he
felt the hope swirl around him, dazzling him with the strength it
filled him with. Where the chill of darkness held him captive and
frightened, the light offered from hope’s voice opened a way of
escape. It was as if someone had offered him the sun in a planet of
blackness. He dared not move for fear that it would dash away like
a wild animal. The gleaming ray of hope twirled around him,
hovering over his open palms. Lancedon smiled, feeling its warmth
and readily welcoming it. He closed his palm around the beam of
light. Immediately his body began to glow, and his skin began to
shine. Though he could see none of this, he felt it, perhaps more
vividly than anyone else. By this hope that he had let into his
being, he saw things others with sight could only imagine. Though
the darkness had whispered to him that Andrew had died, the light
of hope told him something quite different.

Hope swirled through Lancedon’s diminished
army. Those who had not fallen under shadow, embraced the truth,
the hope and light with opened arms, becoming instantly lit with
the same undying glow. Once they accepted it, they began to see the
path ahead just enough to give them courage. They could not see
far, but they could see just enough to step ahead, out into the
unknown.

Only those who had fallen under the chains of
fear, and worshiped The Fallen’s light and power, were left as they
were--- fallen, dark, despairing, yet clinging to the thing that
kept them in slavery. Theirs was a fear so powerful that hope
itself could not break through. There were many people, soldiers
from Lancedon’s army included, who slunk away into the shadows only
to embrace more shadows, joining themselves to The Fallen’s
numberless ranks.

Those of Lancedon’s army who had their hope
rekindled moved together, creating a great body of light that could
not be dispelled, even by the heavy darkness. An air of peace
settled over them combining with the light that came from inside
themselves. The bell of Conroy had called out to the land,
summoning the world to awaken in the darkness and to physically
battle the night, calling to some greater dawn.

With each hour, their army grew brighter as
more individuals heard the call and gathered with Lancedon’s army.
Hour by hour, and day by day, their numbers grew, as with the
strength of the light that they created. They came in ones, and
twos, and small families, bearing what weapons they had. But their
greatest weapon in the darkness was they themselves, and the light
that they had let into their hearts---the light they bore. This new
hope had reawakened them in ways that never could have happened,
had the sun still been shining. It was only when all was lost, when
all was darkness, that they finally saw the light. Though no one
could backtrack, no one could undo what had been done, no one could
say the words they had not said. No one could bring back to life
those whom their passive action of inaction had accused and
martyred.

But what they now could do, they did. There
was no in-between, no gray for those who held hope in their hearts.
And oh, how this new hope called to them! None could be still, none
could remain as they had been. For the darkness had become so great
that had they remained as they were, they would soon have become
shadows themselves. Their hope without faith, without action,
without expanding, would have vanished, leaving them again in
darkness.

Finally, the last toll of the bell echoed
over the land, ushering in a heavy quietude, striking the hearts of
men with a resounding message that the last battle was very near.
Those who had been called by the voice of hope gathered together at
the edge of the frozen sea where the ice lay strewn with the frozen
bodies of the dead from Andrew’s army that had faced the darkness
alone. Black snow covered the land with an oily black mantel of
mourning and solemnity.

Gathered on the other side of the frozen sea
stood The Fallen’s army, numberless and as endless as the darkness
was. Shadows and men who had bowed down to the darkness, and those
whose souls had been withered away into nothing, stood waiting for
the army of light.

Here, light and darkness gathered together,
the one as bright as the other was dark, both giving contrast to
one another.

Lancedon stood overlooking this scene with
apprehension. He could not see either army. But he could feel both
sides---the devouring, hungering darkness on one side, and on the
other, the brilliant power that radiated out and gave to all it
touched. The Fallen’s army stood poised, unmoving as if they were
in a deep trance. Hardly a soldier blinked. The Fallen’s army was
as vast as the sea, fearsome, filled to capacity with every dark
evil thought, every dark deed, every lie, every deception, every
shadow---every gray soul that had ventured beyond the realm of
light into the darkness stood there before them, breathed to life,
and given form, and power from the master they served.

Yes, Lancedon thought, feeling the great pull
of energy from both sides, their numbers were great. But compared
to the darkness, the brilliance of Lancedon’s army was a mere
smudge of light on the earth. But that small smudge was enough. It
shone out through the cover of darkness, a breathtaking gleam
against the shroud of blackness that hugged the army on all sides,
making the army’s brilliance brighter by its contrast.

Coral rode through the snow with Lancedon.
“Look,” she cried, pulling Lancedon’s horse to a stop. She smiled
and pointed behind them at hundreds of flickering lights---the
people and soldiers that rallied behind them. “Lancedon, I wish you
could see what I see. For they have all come, from far and near.
The Brittlewambers from the ancient woods, the elves from Levwood,
even some of Danspire’s people have come. Behind you, from the four
corners of the earth they have come, given wings of speed from the
light inside them. Here they stand at your command, a few from
every land---beast and human alike, all glowing with light. It is
beautiful.”

“It is beautiful,” Lancedon agreed. “I may
not see them, but I feel their courage. It is building, just as the
darkness builds. I feel that it is time. We can wait no longer. If
there is to be a battle, it is to be now.”

“So soon?” she asked, her eyes filling with
fear.

“Soon?” Lancedon repeated. “It should have
been sooner. Much sooner. No. It is late, far too late. The hour is
dark, but here we stand. Together. To live or to die.” Lancedon
leaned in towards Coral. He could feel heat emanating off her like
his own personal sun. “Are you afraid?”

Coral stared out into the blackness,
listening to the fiendish cries of their unseen enemy. They were
coming out of the darkness, like tormented souls, a black wave that
had no other aim except to cover the light and bury it in The
Fallen’s eternal abyss.

“Yes.” Coral answered. “I am afraid of the
things I cannot see. And in this darkness there is much to be
feared. They come before us like shadows, their numbers unknown,
their faces hidden.”

“When I am afraid of what I cannot see,”
Lancedon replied, clasping her hand and placing it gently to his
lips, “I hold on to what I feel, and what I know. You are what is
near. You it is that I feel. I am not afraid when you are
near.”

They quickly embraced, as if it was their
first and last kiss on earth.

Lancedon slowly pulled away, and smiled. “Are
you still afraid?”

Coral shook her head. “No.”

“That’s funny, because I suddenly am.”

“Afraid?”

“Yes. Of losing you.”

“Whatever happens, you will never lose my
love. The sun, the moon, and stars may have ceased to shine, but my
love, the hope that gleams from my skin, will always endure.”

“As will mine,” Lancedon whispered, holding
her warm hand to his, never wanting to let go.

“Lancedon?” Sterling called through the
darkness. “Is it time?”

“Yes!” Lancedon shouted back. He breathed
deeply, and wrapped his arms around Coral who sat in front of him
in the saddle. “Are you ready, Coral?”

“Now I am.” She smiled, and directed
Lancedon’s horse to the front of the army, where Zeechee and
Sterling stood like glowing stars against the never-ending black
background.

Lancedon sat erect in the saddle, overlooking
the brilliant army as if he could really see them. His eyes were
shining. His face was covered in dirt and grime, but the look he
wore was one of deepest integrity as if he knew from the core of
his soul who he was and what he was supposed to do.

“Hope!” Lancedon called out to the warriors
of light assembled before him. His was voice loud and clear, as if
carried by the light so that all could hear. “This hope has given
you wings and doubled your speed, so that you have been summoned
here in this our hour of dire need. Here, we stand together,
finally united by a cause that many of you once fought against. But
now your hearts have been softened, changed, and renewed. Even at
this last hour, the evening of our lives, we meet together, in a
world completely covered in shadows, lies, and deceit that our
existence is the only thing keeping the darkness from consuming the
world entirely. We have now come together to see where this path of
light will take us. Oh, if we had listened a little sooner! If we
had taken courage and had not let fear enter our hearts, what a
joyful time this would be. Instead of joy, there are shrieks in the
dark. Instead of light, there is blackness. You are the last
bearers of light. Bear it well. Let us fight this last time. As
hope in this hopeless world rises, we will linger here for as long
as hope’s light shines in us! Keep it burning within you, and you
will not be lost. Go! Put this darkness to shame! Where light is,
darkness cannot be! For on this eternal night, we go to battle
against the forces of darkness so great that we cannot comprehend
its magnitude. Today, we will fight for that which cannot be
contained in buildings or bought with money, nor bartered for, nor
voted on. We battle for truth! For light! Today we go to
battle---The last battle against a foe that has no constraints, no
conscience, no sense of justice, and no regard for life. In The
Fallen, and in his followers is only darkness, greed, and
selfishness. Today we do not battle only with swords, but with the
light that we have inside us. That is far greater than any weapon,
far more powerful than the darkness that holds the earth captive!
We come together today as the few who dared to fight for what is
right! Remember, that you are here because you carry hope and truth
inside your heart. A truth so brilliant that even the darkness
cannot consume it---a hope that drives you to action, a hope that
has led you here, together. This hope lingers long after all else
has vanished. Even when the soul has departed, hope is there. As
long as there is a vessel to bear its light, it will linger. As
long as hope and truth live, you and I must believe that there is a
reason for it! Hope has summoned us all here today. It is what
lights our path. Let the voice of hope and truth be heard, not in
our hearts alone, but in the clash of our swords, and the cry of
our voice! If we die today, we die knowing that our hearts are more
alive than they have ever been, or ever will be!”

The crowd cheered and clamored with shouts so
loud and full of light, that the light that beamed from their skin
surged far past its original bounds, thinning the darkness around
them.

“I may be blind,” Lancedon continued, “but
that does not mean I cannot feel the darkness that has covered this
land. It does not mean that I cannot feel the fear that binds the
earth in chains. At this moment, I see clearer than I ever have in
my entire life. I see that this darkness cannot triumph so long as
we are here. I feel your courage, your strength, and your
brilliance. By my blindness, by the darkness that has constantly
surrounded me, I have learned that it is your fear of the darkness
that binds you and holds you in place, not the darkness itself. So
take courage. Utilize all your senses, but most of all. Let the
light inside yourself illuminate your path. You are stronger than
you think, brighter than you think, more powerful than you think.
The Fallen knows this. It is he who tries to make you depend on
him, to obey him, to fear him, to subject yourself to him, so you
will forget all that you have, and all that you are. And what you
are is light! Beautiful light! I see now that perhaps my blindness
is a gift. For it has taught me that even in darkness, light can be
found. It has taught me not to fear what I cannot see. But to face
it. It has taught me that darkness has no real power, except the
power that we give it. It cannot bind you unless you let it! I
can’t see our enemy’s numbers, nor can I see your shining faces.
But I can feel the light that you give, I can sense the power that
you hold, a power that gives light and strength to each of you.
Together, we will drive out this darkness. Together, we will make
our stand. We are the last bearers of light. Let it not go out. Let
it not dim! For freedom! For truth! For hope for a better future,
for a brighter day!”