I \ point blank range \ section x

Leigh found herself looking down a tunnel of leaves and brush. Apparently, even she was too short, and she hunched down in pursuit of her guide, the owl. It didn’t even occur that her companion was amiss. The owl said nothing.

The tunnel wasn’t far. Leigh stopped in awe, shocked by what she saw. Was she still in the Lacus Mountains? In front of her, the forest canopy rose drastically and formed a dome of leaves. Sunlight languidly fluttered through as thin streams in the misty air of dawn. Furniture was deviously crafted by raw materials to tastefully decorate the domed area. She glanced around curiously: two doors, well they were actually large slabs of bark and twigs twisted into the shape, and presumably, the function of a door, hung silently almost aside each other. The playful chirps of two encircling birds zoomed across the room. It was the first sign of life Leigh had seen since she had step foot into the woods.

Is anyone here? Leigh mused. The owl looked back at her blankly.

You have forgotten your companion.

Her brows instantly met and she swirled behind her.

“She was supposed to be behind me!” Leigh cried in indignation. “That bumbling fool,” she growled, peering down the tunnel she emerged from. Certainly, Gaij was nowhere in sight. “Didn’t you make sure she came with us?” She stared at the owl.

She is your friend, not mine. She is your responsibility.

Leigh grunted in anger and huffed her bottom onto a bench made of slender shaved dogwood and a mossy slate seat. “Well this is just wonderful.

The owl waddled up to her and cocked his head. You have naught to fear, young apprentice.

Somewhat holding a grudge, she didn’t look at the owl but squinted an eye. “Apprentice…?”

Yes. Your Master is arriving soon.

“Master? I have no Master.”

The owl clucked. It spread its wings and floated up to a camouflaged perch high above. Leigh eyed him discontentedly and straightened immediately when she heard huffing and puffing approach the door nearest her. The bark flew open in a bang and a short old man with white wavy hair that streamed behind him galloped into the domed room. His tufts wafted to normal gravitational pull as he stopped suddenly and looked wide-eyed at Leigh.

“And who-“ his who’s sounded like the owl’s evening call, “are you?” (as well as his you’s)

“I am Leigh, from Bienfang.” She stood emphatically. “Who are you, and where am I?”

“Oo-ooh!” The old man cried. He tossed his hair back and placed his hands on his hips. “You do not speak to your Master like this!” He stamped his foot, and shaking his finger, stomped up to Leigh. He only came up to her shoulders. “Leigh from Bienfang! Shall you speak to me like that again,” (he dragged his n’s too) “you will pay for it dearly, mind you.” He shook his head vigorously and swished around, his long brown robe tickling his ankles.

“My Archimedes,” he called, waving and holding out his arm. The owl glided down gently onto his master’s outstretched arm and impassively ignored the Master’s irritated shakes and moans of claws.

“Now, where were we?” He twirled around swiftly, spun too far, and corrected himself. The old man, with his free hand, for his other hand was outstretched 90 degrees to the discomfort of his pet, stroked his beard and mustache and squinted at his guest.

Leigh contemptuously straightened her figure and looked defiantly at her host.

“Leigh of Bienfang…” he twisted his long beard and mustache into one strand and almost pulled his entire face down amid his concentrated musings. “Yes! Confound it! You are the one my unwelcome guest speaks of! Come this way!” He turned his heel and stamped to the other door.

Leigh frowned and followed him, not particularly taking to this quirky old man in the middle of the woods. He hadn’t answered a single question.

He thrust this door open as well and sidestepped in, not wanting to disturb Archimedes’ roost. It was a tunnel again, not unlike the first. After the first curve, it suddenly opened into another domed room, this one much larger than the first. Neatly cut shrubs divided this room, but it was entirely opened to a fresh breeze that wafted in from an open circle in the ceiling of leaves above. Ornately carved cases of books walled three quarters of the entire dome. Inside the nearest section was something like sofas covered by animal skins. Atop one lay Gaij, asleep.

“Why is she asleep,” Leigh demanded.

“She-“ he pointed his finger at her. “Would not close that blasted hole in her skull.”

Leigh smirked. Gaij certainly was someone else outside the class halls.

“So I put her to sleep.” The old man shrugged and clucked at the owl, who responded by shrilling loudly and flapping himself away from the humans.

Leigh caught his sentence. “Put her to sleep? How do you mean?”

“Like this!” He turned and snapped his fingers. Leigh saw Archimedes suddenly cease flapping his wings midair and fall lifeless ten meters to the ground.

She screwed up her face. “I think you killed your pet, sir.”

“Nonsense!” He clapped his hands this time and grinned.

Archimedes squawked in aggravation, flipped up, and waddled the rest of his way to his destination.

“Who are you? Are you a synod?”

The old man cackled. “Oh good heavens, no! I’m just a mere magi. I’m unbiased, mind you.”

Leigh sniffed, cringing at the old man’s way of entwining ooh into every word. She jumped when a camouflaged door swung open just past the sofa that Gaij slept on and a young man entered. He wore black robes bordered in gold runes and symbols. A broad gold belt encircled his waste, carrying pockets and purses that contained the unknown. But his dress was not so unknown to Leigh’s intelligence. This young man, whose eyes of crystal green and black silken hair held her rapt, was nothing less than a pupil of the Orions, one of the many gods of the Sticky Children. It was like she had found the rift in time.

“Where are we?” She instantly demanded the moment the man glided up to the old man. He glanced at her baffled and ignored her. He leaned over and whispered something into the old man’s ear, hidden in his wild white strands. After a moment, the old man twitched and clutched his hands. “I knew there was a reason! Oh praise the gods!” He grinned toothily at Leigh. “A new apprentice. I am delighted.”

She couldn’t take it anymore. “What is going on here!?” She screamed. Somewhat surprised that Gaij didn’t even most a muscle at her outburst, she turned and glared at the two men who looked back dumbfounded.

“Miss, allow me to explain.” The young man stepped forward and bowed. “I am Samael, named after the Prince of Fire.” He took another bow and took a step back. “You are still in the Lacus Mountains. We noted your coming from the moment you stepped foot outside your city’s walls. We have been waiting earnestly for you, as well as your companion. Is it true that you are the daughter of-“

“Stop your insolence, you!” The old man cried. “We will get to all that later! Now,” he swished around, his arms outstretched. “This is your quarters. Here, you study. Here, you learn. Here, you are my apprentice.”

“Magi, should she not be-“

“Your pledge? I see you have nothing to say. Very well.” He resumed his grand speech. “As I will show you in the times to come, you will learn the ways of lux lucis, your elements, your powers, you will become the queen of the generations!”

Leigh looked at him incredulously. “What in the world are you talking about?”

The old man didn’t hear her. “Now, I must retire to my room. Your first lesson will be tonight!” He waved his finger in the air and disappeared in a puff of smoke.

She gaped at the empty air where the old man had once stood. She didn’t look up as the young man, Samael, started towards her.

“Madam, you appear exhausted,” he put his hand on her shoulder and waved another hand toward another sofa.

“Oh! Call me Leigh…” She shook his hand off and looked at him. He wasn’t much taller than her, which was surprising to see in a male. Males were always taller by at least a third of a meter – and this man was only centimeters taller than Leigh!

“Samael?”

He nodded, folding his hands inside his robes.

“What is going on? Queen? Lessons? Lux lucis? Elements? Tell me what is happening here!”

“Please, sit, I will tell you,” Samael insisted.

She grudgingly sat down on an amazingly soft sofa as Samael materialized a stool in front of her. Lux lucis, Leigh breathed to herself. Things were happening much too quickly for her.

“You said something about I being the daughter of – you never got to finish your sentence. I came to these forsaken woods to search for my father.”

“Your father…?” Samael peered at her interestingly.

“No! I know he’s here! Somewhere! I felt it the moment I came near the woods.”

“I am truly sorry madam – er, Leigh. Whatever you felt was just a ploy the magi and I set up to lure you in.”

“Why?” She was furious.

“No one comes into these mountains, not of their own accord anyhow. You are the one we’ve been searching for, although the magi,” he said this name in contempt, but Leigh couldn’t tell; the man’s expression gave way so quickly, “wishes to disregard this omen.”

“I don’t care; where is my father? If he’s not here, then at least tell me his name.”

Samael looked at her peculiarly. “You are the daughter of Sedoraphim.”

“Sedoraphim…I know that name,” Leigh breathed. She dug frantically into the deepest recesses of her mind. “The son of Goap?” She gasped.

“The king himself.”

“Isn’t that – isn’t that igni?”

Samael smiled. A cold smile, or perhaps just a learned twitch of the facial muscles. “Yes.”

“So I’m not…I’m not a child of the prophet?”

Samael’s eyes narrowed and shook his head slightly.

Jealous, aren’t we, Leigh fumed to herself as she looked at him in contempt. “Well that’s just great. Now what?”

“Unfortunately, you have aged forty four years in apathy. Those years have taken a toll upon your-“

“Wait, wait, wait. So lux lucis is still very alive and real? I was right?”

“You certainly were,” Samael replied. He crossed his legs and looked afar in disinterest. “Very much alive…thank the gods the rest of you do not know. This world would be in complete agony. Perhaps, it wouldn’t be able to hold itself together.”

Leigh raised a brow at his musings.

“Ah!” Samael spied her mocking expressions. “My fault. Moving along: we summoned you here because you are a descendant of the gods.” He smiled at her, almost scornfully but again, Leigh couldn’t catch his twinkles fast enough. “We have been ordained to apprentice you. Magi though,” he lowered his voice and growled, “Magi desires to teach you in the ways of neutrality and the elemental powers of air. His theories are mangled and erroneous because of his ill and late mind.” He stood up. “I would offer you what services you should be deserving of; of the fire, from the flames and ever churning lava that flows from Mount X.”

“You’ve been there?” She still couldn’t believe she was from that netherworld. That’s why I could never agree with that city’s concepts.

“Of course not, no one dares to step foot past the Flumen Plains – unless,” he paused and stared at Leigh. “You are of their blood.”

“What of are you?”

“Sanction. The Ancient Sanction, that is.”

“How so? You certainly don’t look ancient.”

“Believe what you may, my skills do not lie. I am 535 years old. Believe me or not.”

“You must be accustomed to being disregarded.”

Samael raised an eyebrow but said nothing. He began pacing. “As for your training, you may choose-“

At that instant, Magi came crashing through the wall sputtering. He held a translucent scroll in his hands. Galloping to Leigh, he took her hands. “My lady??”

“Pardon?” She said gently – normally, she would hold forever in contempt the individual who confused her identity.

“Are you Heskomint’s only daughter?”

“No, I am not.”

“Confound it! Get out! You do not belong here!” He screamed, falling down to his knees in agony.

“Magi!” Samael knelt down beside his master. “Cease this nonsense!”

“’Tis a catastrophe!”

“Magi! Do you not see the aura surrounding her?’

“Leave me be!”

“Sir!” Samael lost his patience and stood up. “She will receive what she desires, close-minded as she is. You are blinded by your incessant craving for power.”

“Silence,” the Magi stood up, thoroughly consoled by the sharp words of his pupil. “She is your student. Leave me be forthwith unless you discover the one.” He put his hands together and bowed as he said this, then turned without acknowledgement of Leigh’s existence and disappeared into a step.

Samael shifted steps and a smile crept onto his slim, pale face. He looked at Leigh. “Now you are my student. I shall instruct you in the ways of your true calling. Hopefully, your lull of learning has not affected you too much.”

“Heskomint?” Leigh was still pondering what the Magi had just gotten flustered over. “Who is Heskomint?”

“Do not pry into business that is not yours. I will take leave for now; I must gather my things to prepare us for the work ahead. There will be much learning in store for you, months, perhaps years, depending upon your body’s acceptance.” He turned and disappeared, like the Magi.

“But what about...” Leigh still had so many more questions, among which she looked down at Gaij. “And what will become of you, this poor, heart-broken soul?” Gaij rested peacefully; a smile even twinkled on her lips. “Enough,” Leigh exclaimed and began shaking the unconscious girl. The owl suddenly shrieked from it unknown perch and both girls jumped at the sound.

“Where – what happened?” Gaij sat up, rubbing her head.

“We’re in some sort of hidden cove in this forsaken forest. My theories have been proven correct,” Leigh added smugly.

“Good for you. Did you find your dad?” she inquired, misreading the grin on her companion’s face. It fell.

“No. it was a mere ploy to draw us here.”

“A ploy?”

“We’ve encountered one of the last, perhaps the last, persons who practice this planet’s true power. Lux lucis-“ Leigh raised her eyes.

“I’m not that dense,” Gaij said flatly.

“I hope not. Samael, one of the two individuals here, is going to instruct me on my abilities,” her face suddenly fell again.

“Your abilities? Looks like you had a lot to take in today already.”

“Yes…I’m not from Bienfang...I’m from Ignibyss,” she said quietly.

“That’s ridiculous! You couldn’t be,” Gaij took a step back anyway.

“No? Why am I of less stature than everyone else? Why have I always been afraid of height? Disliked water? Never been burned? Explain that!” Leigh clenched her jaw and sat down. Was she really of those cursed firebloods?

“Wow...oh Leigh, I hope this isn’t too disappointing for you. Come on, isn’t this what you’ve always wanted? To know lux lucis? Heck, what’s going to happen to me? At least you’ve got something to look forward to!”

Leigh looked up at her coldly and said nothing.

“So what about me?”

Leigh shook her head. Maybe you’ll fall in love with Samael, she wanted to say, but restrained her piercing tongue.

Gaij’s face screwed up, sat down, almost started crying but then stopped and turned to Leigh. “So what other of your theories are true?”

“Nothing.”

“And what about the monsters? Do they know where these monsters are coming from?”

Leigh didn’t reply.

“Sheesh! All you care about is yourself! Haven’t you got a soul inside of there?” In that moment, Samael appeared amid them. Gaij stumbled backwards and fell on her rump; Leigh stoically remained staring at the forest wall.

“Ignibyss aboriginals are known to be soulless, calloused, malicious, as well as merciless. So observers say. Not many had ever seen this race; if they have, few return to tell the tale.”

Gaij swallowed and frowned deeply. “Well that explains a lot. Who are you?”

“Samael,” he shifted his gaze to Leigh, still staring at tree trunks. “Leigh, it is time.”

“Hey!” Gaij stood up, towering over Samael. Her people from Jerusalem were the tallest of the planet. “What about me?”

He looked up at her languidly. “You may be a giant, though gentle and green. You will receive your share, although your aura is not half as strong as this lady here.”

Insulted, she glared away.

“You may accompany us,” he stated as Leigh finally stood up. Simultaneously, the three disappeared.

I \ point blank range \ section ix

The sun was rising, and the owl hadn’t taken a break yet. Gaij moaned and groaned, sometimes even lapsing back a few dangerous meters, but managed to stay awake enough to keep Leigh in sight. Leigh, on the other hand, was wide awake, feeling more alive by the minute. They didn’t encounter any creatures; the lone bird of prey maintained its speedy dawdle atop the forest floor steadily until the sun was bright enough to pierce through the overbrush and lighten the path.

Stop.

Leigh halted, Gaij crashing into her from behind. She couldn’t hear a sound and the scenery looked the same as it had been for the past hundreds of kilometers they had tread.

Listen.

Leigh shook her head. “I can’t hear a thing,” she said softly. She barely noticed Gaij collapsing onto the mossy ground in exhaustion.

Listen. The own turned around and stared at her with those golden saucer eyes.

Leigh strained her ears but failed to hear anything. She looked around even though there was nothing to see. Opening her mouth to exclaim her bewilderment, she snapped it back shut instantly. A low humming radiated from the ground, gradually growing until even Gaij opened her eyes and muffled confusion.

The owl blinked twice and shuffled to stand next to Leigh. The ground where it was standing a moment afore began vibrating, loose twigs and leaves shaking out of place. The humming grew louder. Leigh took an uneasy step back. The owl clucked in disagreement but remained staring at the ground. The humming pulsated in rhythm now. Gaij hastily scrambled to her feet and peeped over Leigh’s shoulder in fear and amazement.

An orange halo arose from the ground and sparkles of light scintillated in unison. The lights shifted and swerved, forming into a circular gate of light that glowed in a feverish orange and yellow hue.

The owl hopped forward and stood in front of the portal, blankly staring back at the two women, both trembling in apprehensive wonder.

Come. He is calling for you.

Leigh’s brow knitted together, upset that something had the better of her. But she took a step forward in defiance of this ‘he’ that she wasn’t aware of. My father? She asked in her mind.

Certainly not.

Leigh frowned. “Come on, Gaij,” she said without turning around. Not waiting, she took a stride and suddenly vanished from sight. The portal faltered slightly but regained its composure.

Gaij’s eyes were as big as the owl’s. The owl clucked again in irritation. Gaij was frozen in stance, only her eyes darting back and forth from the portal to the owl, and back to the portal. The owl shrugged, as only a bird could do, and rotated toward the portal and evaporated into the glow. It faltered again, only this time it wasn’t fixing its wavering light.

“Leigh you can’t leave me-!” Gaij threw herself at the portal just as the sparkles blinked out. The leaves gently settled onto the moss.

I \ point blank range \ section viii

She arose the moment the sun peeked over the golden city. It felt so warm and calming compared to the cold white pearl shimmer of the city of Sanctum. It wasn’t late, but Aratheah hurried anyway. She was down in the foyer in half an hour; Margeis and Regaken were already standing sentinel, stoically ignoring the curious onlookers that slunk by. The room stifled immediately the moment Aratheah entered, and even the clerks paused for a moment when they noticed the high runes and sleek colors of the Children of the Prophets emblazoned on her attire. Even the most naïve would recognize that she held some sort of high command somewhere in the land of higher uppers. Some turned their noses but most looked away and pretended as if nothing was askew.

“Are you ready, madam?” Regaken – or Margeis, Aratheah couldn’t tell – questioned, respectfully nodding.

“Of course I’m ready,” Aratheah replied impatiently, moving past them toward the front door. She knew she couldn’t pretend to feel the tension, the dislike and the arrogance toward her. I guess it is quite real, I didn’t want to believe it but the Children of the Prophets are certainly bigheaded. The sun washed gold into the streets and her cab was ready and waiting.

They arrived at their destination about five kilometers deep into the Lacus Mountains by the shores of the river. The sandy shore didn’t stretch for long and the river’s edge was crowded with the Children of the Prophet’s militia, as well as mercenaries looking for a few pieces of silver to score.

Aratheah stood alongside her bodyguards near enough to the officers to hear their plans. An officer hastily strode to her and saluted her quickly.

“We’re going in as soon as our orders are clear, Miss Ischmen,” he said courteously.

“Call me Aratheah.”

“As you wish. There’s a clearing ahead over those two ridges. We’ll bed there for the night. You may house with the officers if you’d like. The men are somewhat diffident about your presence here, but we know your reasons. Any help would be appreciated.”

“Of course, sir,” Aratheah replied politely, nodding.

The squadron was in order in minutes and the first group went in, spreading out. The second group, the observers went in after, followed by the last group to keep an eye on their trail. Aratheah went in with the observers. It was odd that not a living thing mingled in the forest, or anywhere to be exact. Apparently, it wasn’t always like this she learned as she overheard the men around her. Not even an insect, fly, or sign of beasts and critters was seen.

The trip so far was uneventful as they bagged down for the night. Rumors will be rumors, Aratheah sighed as she lay on her side, absently listening to the hushed conversations around her. The tension was thick in the air, as well as the skepticism that wafted through once in a while. Maybe the rumors weren’t true. No! That couldn’t be so! The Council wouldn’t waste their time like that. It couldn’t be a trap either because Jerusalem’s inhabitants, the other half of Sanctum, had grumbled about strange disappearances of their trade ships. But no one had mentioned what exactly these odd occurrences were. Engulfed in her thoughts, Aratheah drifted quietly into sleep.

I \ point blank range \ section vii

The day had fallen and long shadows had caught up to their trail, and they decided this day was enough. They had traveled, slowed by the growth and lack of a pathway to guide them, and were rested on a small ledge over the water.

“Keep your eyes open,” Leigh said tiredly. “We don’t know what’s in this place.”

Gaij shrugged. “Don’t know. I haven’t seen a thing this entire day. It’s weird. Even on the plains, there was always some kind of animal roaming around.”

Leigh said nothing, preferring silence than to mindless chit chatter. She unrolled her bedspread and put together the fire pit. The stars above slowly peeked out, one by one, and the belt of cloud and dust began ebbing its light from horizon to horizon, leisurely swirling around and around the planet. Or whatever this planet could be called. It wasn’t a sphere; it was a floating plate of massive land, broken off into four sections. Ages ago, the ancient inhabitants had linked together each stratum with the same lux lucis that had created each city and their unique traits. Most did not venture past the second stratum. The third stratum was the largest and supplied food to the rest of civilization, but was desolate in comparison and housed the foreigners, the Fanumni, a sub race whom amounted to nothing in particular; a species of drunkards and filthy mud people. The citizens of the Children of the Prophets and the Sticky Children sneered at them but maintained a superficial relationship with them, for without them and their land, their food source would take an enormous lacking. The fourth stratum was quite unknown: the Sticky Children’s “other” resided in the lowest regions of the planet, cut off from the rest of society. The average citizen only knew that those Fourths lived in a literal hell called Ignibyss and that they really did drink flame like water. Everyone shudders at the thought. Thankfully, those Sticky Children were never seen in anyone’s lifetime, and hopefully they never would in the future. Perhaps they didn’t even exist anymore.

Leigh laid back and contemplated these things, knowing that the Fourths had to be alive, and what an adventure it would be to see a real Sticky Child from Ignibyss. She wouldn’t discriminate like everyone else would. High and pompous citizens of these ridiculous sects, Leigh griped to herself. It was all nonsense anyway. She looked up to the night sky, past the flying belt and into the smallest stars her eyes could glimpse. Who lived on those stars? She wondered casually, inhaling deeply, beginning to put away the worries of the day to a full night’s rest.

“Did you hear that?”

Leigh frowned and glanced over at Gaij. She was staring up at the sky like herself, but with tears streaming out of the corners of her eyes. But sorrow wasn’t on that face anymore, rather, suspicion and fear. “I heard something, Leigh,” Gaij whispered. “Over there,” she pointed to the trees beyond Leigh.

Angrily, Leigh sat up. Whatever it was, she wasn’t scared of it. It was silent and she didn’t breath for minutes. She looked into the midnight shadows of the woods but saw nothing.

“Leigh,” Gaij’s voice faltered. “I – I – I see it - !”

“Where?” She hissed back, turning her head toward her companion without taking her eyes off the shadows.

“It’s – it’s invisible but it’s – it’s right in front of me…”

Leigh turned her eyes swiftly. The simpleton wasn’t lying. About six meters in front of her was a shadow, a puff of breath seeping out unhurriedly in the cool, low to the ground. A pair of small orange eyes glinted and hovered, but it wasn’t looking at them…Leigh jerked her eyes behind her, her suspicions coming true. Dozens of orange gems floated in the shadows of the trees.

“Gaij, run!” Leigh cried. She hurdled into the air, grabbed her pack, and sprinted for the woods. She heard Gaij fumbling behind her. Her eyes immediately adjusted to the darkness. And it was dark as dark could be. Trees appeared before her eyes.

“Leigh! I can’t see you!” Gaij shrieked behind her. Her longer legs caught up quickly. Almost colliding with the shorter Leigh, Gaij grabbed her hand and tugged her ahead.

A bloodcurdling scream almost too high for their ears pierced the silence and came closer by the second. They couldn’t hear the trampling of paws. Rather, a rushing of wind roared behind them.

“What are they!” Gaij moaned ahead of Leigh. “I can’t see anything!”

“Just run!” Leigh yelled. The screams were only tree lengths behind but they kept on. The roar was almost in their ears, and she could feel the hellish breath on her back.

And suddenly, it was silent. They crashed on through the brush anyway until Gaij slowed. Leigh stopped too, out of breath.

Nothing stirred.

“What, in all of creation, was, that?!” Gaij still gripped Leigh’s hand.

Leigh shook her head, though she knew Gaij couldn’t see her. She tried to catch her breath as quietly as possible.

“Leigh-“

“Shh!” Leigh crouched low, pulling Gaij down with her and stared at her surrounding. Barely a stream of night light made it through the canopy of leaves and branches high above them. “These mountains are cursed,” she said to herself. “Something’s not right. There’s no such thing…”

“Leigh, look!” Gaij’s hand thrust upward.

Leigh followed her direction. A small glow floated down a few meters away from the sky and drifted into the shadows behind the solid broad trunks. It landed and after a moment, started wobbling toward them.

“Oh no,” Gaij groaned. She started to get up but Leigh yanked her back down to the ground.

The radiance glided over the roots and promptly came upon them. Its soft yellow light glowed on their faces.

“Why, hullo,” Gaij said dumbly. Leigh pried her hand out of the simpleton’s grasp and stared, awestruck. It was significantly larger than the one she’d seen, but nonetheless, the owl stood noiselessly in front of them, staring back at Leigh. Its saucer golden eyes revealed nothing.

Follow.

Leigh narrowed her eyes. Owls can’t talk!

Follow. We are waiting.

Leigh looked incredulously at Gaij, her façade disappearing for the moment. “Did it say something to you?”

“Huh?”

Leigh swirled back to the owl. It blinked unhurriedly. You want me to follow you? She said in her mind.

Yes. We are waiting for you.

It blinked again, then turned and began waddling away from them hastily.

“Come on,” Leigh scrambled up and started after the creature.

“So this is your owl…” Gaij mumbled. “So much for sleep.”

I \ point blank range \ section vi

“We’re here,” Leigh quietly stated, coming to a stop in her tracks. Having been in regretful thought for the past hour, Gaij wistfully looked up. They stood at the foot of a vast forest that crept up the mountains ahead of them. The mountains stood tall and forbidding, taunting someone to enter in blind oblivion to its devious nature it kept locked inside. Not a creature was in sight for miles; no birds flittered to and fro among the fauna except for a solitary vulture that sat on a branch bordering its territory. It peered curiously at the strangers. It had been long since it had seen something of that kind wander into this region. It sat, patiently, waiting, watching their thoughts.

“So um…do you have a map or anything?” Gaij asked, raising an eyebrow to her leader. “I don’t see your owl anywhere.”

“Not any of substance.” Leigh pulled out a small book from her pack and leafed through till she found her source. “I guess we’ll just go on in, there’s not much else we can do.”

Gaij huffed and started after Leigh. “Some guide you are,” she muttered. “Whatever we’re looking for, it better be good. Just out of curiosity, Leigh, what makes you want to follow an owl?”

“It’s not normal,” Leigh said pertly, ignoring her companion as she carefully picked her way through the brambles that littered the edge of the woods. She didn’t want to ruin her dress – not like she was trying to impress anyone, but if by any chance she did run into a passerby, they wouldn’t gleam at her appearance.

“Normal? And how, exactly,” Gaij hopped and skipped over the thorns, still managing to drag along the entire brush in her trail, “is the owl not normal? Does it have three eyes or something?”

“Wrong.” They made it through to the cool shade of the trees and Leigh squinted at the simpleton. “It’s magical. It defied gravity. And it was watching us.”

Gaij shuddered. “Watching us? Yeah…you’re making this stuff up.”

“Why would I do something like that?” She started walking west, uphill.

“And you know where this owl lives, too, right?”

“Stop your childish behavior,” Leigh said sharply, walking faster to prove her point.

“Sheesh, sorry. I just think this whole thing is a little ridiculous. I thought you were looking for your father anyway. Any ideas on how to find him?”

“We ask the first person we see.”

“But no one lives here!” Gaij wailed. “Not for kilometers all around! You’re crazy!”

“Go home,” Leigh grumbled, trodding her way up the first mountain, which was really more a large hill than a true mountain with snowcaps and such. There was no trail or distinguishable path. There weren’t any paths leading to this forsaken forest either. She didn’t want to admit it, but Leigh highly doubted they would run into any human being here for a long while. But she was on a mission, and although she couldn’t feel her father’s spirit near her anymore, she kept on, hoping for some small twinge of memory, a glimmer of a sign. They hiked uphill for a ways until they reached the top. There was a small clearing which looked like a feeding ground, but no tracks marked it as so. Westward, the Lacus Mountains loomed above them, making their trek up the hill like climbing an anthill.

“Whoah,” Gaij said under her breath. “We’re going to go through that?”

“Yes.” Leigh was stoic. North, south, and west spread the mountains. Behind her was an endless field that faded into the haze. The river disappeared behind the hill. “I think we’re better off if we stay by the river.”

“But the pirates!”

“We’re not taking their stuff so you don’t have anything to worry about!”

“But they’re…murderers. They don’t care, don’t you know?”

“Hmph, I’ve never traveled this way before.” She resumed her trek, now downhill southward, to the river.

Above them, an owl much larger than the one Leigh had seen the night before emerged from the treetops and slowly swooped downwind, its sharp receptive eyes tracing their every step.

I \ point blank range \ section vi

They had been walking for hours and kilometers before it was dark enough for Leigh. It had been dark enough for Gaij as soon as the b-man had dropped them off. A few independent farmers resided in the Flumen Plains, but so far they had not seen a single sign of civilization. Perhaps it was because they were within a days walk from the rural Lacus Mountains. Like the sick and twisted horns of the Orbis Sea’s leviathan, they arose in the distance. Leigh didn’t think them threatening and scolded Gaij likewise. After an hour, Gaij had given up and accepted her fate. She said that it were better to die than live on without Gillian by her side.
“You lovesick fool,” Leigh grumbled. Before the tearful girl could angrily hurl something back at her, Leigh went on. “We’ll stop here for tonight.”
Gaij scowled and decided to remain silent. They didn’t have any sort of tent to speak, but no bother. It never precipitated on the second stratum except over the Orbis Sea at midnight.
“It’s creepy over here, Leigh,” Gaij finally groaned after they had set up a campsite.
“Deal with it,” Leigh knew it’d get worse – not that she was frightened – but refrained from enlightening Gaij. Gaij sighed sorrowfully and Leigh looked at her disdainfully. “Hey you. You’re lucky you’re even here. Now lay off this depressed attitude or I’ll make you walk all the way back to your pathetic dormitory alone. Now shut up or speak like any normal human being.”
Gaij whimpered and without a word, slumped over and turned her back.
Good, Leigh sighed. She kindled the fire and took note of her surroundings. It was pitch black despite the swirling sea of clouds and stars above her, and the only thing in sight was the mountains to the west. Somehow, somewhere, her father was in there; she didn’t even need a tome to prove it to herself here, she could feel his entity. Somewhere in those mountains. The sparks of the fire flew off in crazy twirls as a light breeze swept through. She wasn’t tired yet. The moons were almost in place to signify midnight; but Leigh was a night animal with endless amounts of energy. She hardly slept since her younger days and barely nourished herself; and people still credited her as being one of the sharpest individuals they’d ever met. And thus, her keen senses gave away something.
Leigh didn’t flinch or pause in her breath but immediately sensed someone staring at her. The breeze settled and she casually looked up into the sky. Her defiance got her better and she immediately glared at the imperfection in the midnight blue not too far away. In fact, it was only about ten meters above the ground. Two yellow eyes camouflaged against the sky; an invisible creature sat still in midair. She had never seen anything like it. It blinked at her again, then its silhouette shifted. Wings unfurled and the eyes disappeared. An owl, Leigh gazed at it as the crafty creature indifferently glided away in the direction of the mountains.
She looked till the owl completely vanished and made a mental note of its direction, then allowed perplexion to settle in. In all of physic’s facts could such a creature sit in midair without resting on something. There wasn’t a single tree for kilometers around. The owl had sat on nothing.
“Kooky,” Leigh breathed. A supposed monster? She wondered. Not an ounce of fear had slipped through her mind. Refreshing her mental photograph of where the owl flew once more, she laid down and stared at the grass.
---
Dawn brought with her her usual spectacular morn. The orange and white hue blazed over the horizon, awakening everything in its path. Leigh was already up and had bundled everything up by the time Gaij stretched and opened her eyes. Her eyes were swollen but she appeared indifferent and didn’t say a word as she mutely started packing.
Good, Leigh said to herself. Since Gaij didn’t work as quickly as she’d have liked, she shrugged and started for the mountains by herself, the image of that owl still branded into her mind. She had barely slept the night past. The owl hadn’t reappeared once; Leigh was determined that the owl was an omen, a sign, an entity of her father’s.
“Do you know where we’re going?” Gaij said when she caught up.
“Yes,” Leigh retorted.
“Where?”
“We’re following an owl.”
“An owl?”
“Do you have a problem with that?”
“Um...actually, yeah, I do; an owl? What’s an owl have to do with anything?” Gaij began chuckling to herself but was cut short by Leigh’s sharp answer.
“Don’t ramble about things you don’t know about. There are many, many things, Gaij, which you are not aware of.”
“Like what?” Gaij trotted up beside her and glowered down, insulted.
Leigh mechanically turned her head and coolly looked at her roadside companion. “Many things.”
“Well tell me,” Gaij glanced at the mountains. “We have a lot of time, come on.”
Leigh smiled, appreciative of the inquisitive mind, but shook her head. “You wouldn’t understand me.”
Gaij sighed angrily. “Are you talking about lux lucis and all those ancient arts and all? You believe that stuff?”
“It exists today, correct?”
“…correct,” Gaij said, her mind not quite as quick as Leigh’s.
“Thus, you cannot say it does not exist.”
“Um, hello! What century are we in? We’re smarter than that!”
“So you ignorant fools believe,” Leigh said quietly.
“Oh please; can you know lux lucis? Even if it was real, no one knows it because everything and everyone associated with those enigmas are long gone. You’re the one that’s ignorant.”
Leigh just shook her head. “I may not have competent knowledge of lux lucis, but I am learned in the way of the Fidem Logos.”
“You call yourself of the Children of the Prophets? We are not an oblivious people!”
Leigh snickered slightly for a moment; Gaij never spoke like this in the hall, and she was glad for the argument. It would make the morning go by faster. She knew they’d reach the foot of the Lacus Mountains by the time the light reached its peak. “Yes, of course, we do not live in oblivion; however, I do believe there is a point in every individual which divides reality from ignorance. I believe that the Children of the Prophets live in reality and deny ignorance, when, in fact, their reality is created from ignorance.”
“I don’t follow…so you’re mocking your own people! You are of the Children of the Prophets, right?”
“Of course.”
“You certainly don’t speak like one,” Gaij huffed.
“It is not what I say that determines myself as my kind.”
“What?” Gaij was incredulous.
“Ah!” Leigh looked at Gaij as if she had caught her in a lie. “Do you note the ignorance in your inflection? I advise that you reconsider your opinions.”
“I don’t have opinions, I have facts,” Gaij bantered.
“Good reply,” Leigh smiled. “Yet, you fail to realize that the facts are actually tainted by our sects.”
Gaij looked at her in confusion.
“Allow me. At the beginning of the Age of Theories until today, the eras afore are purely words passed down from the generations. During the Bellicose Era, the military powers destroyed written records, as well as banished and annihilated historians and relics alike. This and everything relevant to lux lucis, because they couldn’t injure their pride by knowing that something held power over them. Now because of this inane purgery of documents, perceptions were built upon the times rather than the mistakes and solutions from the past. I feel that this preventable obliteration of information has scarred everyone into a kind of ignorance of information.”
“Yes, everyone despises the Bellicose Era; but that’s nobody’s fault,” Gaij interceded.
“Correct!” Leigh smirked. “However, rather than embracing what we had, we further purged those documents and relics in a complete act of arrogance. Our new leaders are too good and wise to learn the ways of old.”
“You mean lux lucis?”
“Well,” Leigh shrugged innocently, “it certainly could include lux lucis.”
“Lux lucis didn’t do anything for anyone except create power struggles.”
“That is the fault of their users. Other uses of lux lucis can be implemented. We only hear of the power struggles because all the good was taken for granted.”
“How do you know?” Gaij interrupted.
“Silence, fool.” Leigh growled and stared at Gaij until she shrank back a few steps. “What holds Bienfang above those raging waters? How can Jerusalem possibly not implode from the water pressure? Or even, how does the city of Sanctum possibly stand midair? Lux lucis is not obsolete, it never was. It is the blood of this world. We may not be expanding upon them now, but it’s still here.”
Gaij was quiet.
Leigh smiled as her point was made.
“Well I don’t think it’d be a good idea to bring it back.”
“I agree with you strongly on that,” Leigh mused aloud. “The leaders of today, as well as the system, are asking for a tyranny.” She was quiet for a moment but spoke up as soon as her thoughts came together. “Gaij? Have you read the Fidem Logos?”
“Not really; well I did but I wasn’t paying attention.”
“Fool. Then I supposed you don’t know of the prophecy of the Xdeuxi?”
“Never heard of it.”
“Also known as the ‘elected ones’. Three individuals, supposedly. No one knows who they are or when this will come to pass, but according to the second chapter in the twentieth verse, they speak of a savior with two followers who will control this world.”
“Sounds stupid to me,” Gaij was getting distracted, and Leigh was furious.
“Ahem.”
“Yeah?”
“Stop thinking about your lost love,” Leigh said harshly.
“Hey, don’t tell me what to think! Who do you think you are? You think you’re one of those Xdeuxi people or something? “
“I never said such a thing.”
“Well you’re not! Quit acting like you’re some knowledge god or something. Yeah, so I’m ignorant! So what, I’m happy with who I am.”
Leigh shook her head. “Fine,” she raised her eyebrows and looked away. Would she ever find someone to have a pleasant argument with? A few moments passed in silence. Leigh noticed that the ground they tread on was becoming rough and a few rocks scattered here and there.
Gaij sighed. “I’m sorry. Go on, Leigh, I don’t mean to ruin your um...your speech. I think you’ve wanted to get it out of your system for a while.”
Leigh pursed her lips. “I’m writing a manuscript. So you believe there is no need for the Xdeuxi?”
“Of course not. Everything’s fine the way it is.”
“Hmph. You and the hundreds of thousands of majority.”
“Say,” Gaij broke her off, “you’re not one of those cult people, are you?”
“No. I don’t take part in absurdities and needless rebellions.”
“What’s your point?”
Leigh screwed up her face and glared in loathe of Gaij’s smugness. “I don’t have a solution.”
Gaij looked back at Leigh but in less contempt. She shrugged. “What’s your manuscript about?”
“It’s a compilation of all that is known of lux lucis and the eras before the Age of Theories.”
“Hm...maybe I’ll read it someday. If it gets published.”
Leigh grinned slightly. “You’re beginning to understand.”

I \ point blank range \ section v

Because Sanctum rested in the sky, it glowed from the light’s reflection from below. Like spotlights, the lux lucis of old create mirrors of a perfect slant to make the metropolis Sanctum float, defy gravity, and appear such a spectacle to be observed in the dark hours.

Aratheah was blind to this. She had never departed the city of Sanctum; all she knew was at night, the sky above her was dark and churning, while the outer limits of the city was surrounded on all side by heavenly beams of light. A single divot in the wall of light marked the only entrance and exit of Sanctum.

To say in the least, Aratheah was thrilled to finally leave the city of Sanctum; however, the weight of the sorrow from seeing her mother in such a state dampened her mood extensively. She arrived at her destination and didn’t utter a thank-you or goodbye to the palace chauffeur and quickly grabbed her carrying bag before he even had a chance to politely open his door. He sped off as Aratheah absentmindedly gazed at the shimmering rays. She shivered despite her warm black overcoat that enveloped her into a stuffed snowball. The two appointed escorts stood patiently beside the A-train in similar fashion to Sanctum’s Army – they were probably the rejects. Aratheah had no interest in them. The trip’s outcome would bet he same with or without them. They saluted her as she approached them.

“A good evening, Princess Ischmen,” they exclaimed in unison.

Aratheah nodded irritably and entered the cabin of the Sanctum mission A-train. Heads would turn and wonder tonight as they saw this special vehicle disappear into the horizon. She sighed when the agents seated themselves and spoke into their voice devices as if they were on a top secret mission. Princess Ischmen, Aratheah mused, a sneer on her face as she turned to look out her window. This planet was ruled by a meritocracy – rule by the wise – not by family blood. Well, that’s what was established at the start of the Age of Theories in 604; but as of late, that didn’t seem quite so.

The Sanctum populous was too lenient to acknowledge such a discrepancy. While everyone else had the opportunity to take a seat in the Chamber of Agent for a term or two, Sanctum’s Chamber had been ruled by the Ischmens for the past four centuries. Which was quite alright. Everything was working out quite well: she came from a very reputable family, and her citizens unanimously adored her. Centuries would pass though before she ever saw the highest seat in the city of Sanctum, unless by her father’s will, he stepped won early – or in the case of her grandfather, was assassinated. It was a gloomy day for all of the metropolis when the beloved Herald was killed by angry underground rebel factions. Aratheah hadn’t been too close to him but showed distress from the public’s sake.

Her people’s culture was one of detachment and individuality. Religion was not strictly kept to like the Children of the Prophets; the Sticky Children were much more liberal in thoughts and deeds. She would be the first Lady Herald, and under no circumstances was this considered a controversy. But surely, the Children of the Prophets held them in contempt for this; such actions by the Sticky Children were scoffed at, labeled as ignorant and foolish. At the same time, the Sticky Children held the Children of the Prophets in low regards, making jest of their trendy ways, traditional customs, and the methods of management over their citizens; the Sticky Children were convinced that their populous either lived in denial or angry acceptance. What a ridiculous way to go on about life! The Children of the Prophets were the ignorant fools, claimed the Sticky Children, for the Children of the Prophets would accept anyone into their sect, while the Sticky Children did not tolerate converts. Once a fool, always a fool. The two sects had had countless skirmishes, broken treatises, overlooked pacts, guerilla warfare, infiltrating spies, and battles throughout the past nine centuries, and there was no perceivable end in sight. No one grew tired of their disagreements, and either were too proud to admit their faults. Neither did they see the future as bleak; arguments and resentment was a way of life, just the same as paying homage to the gods or awakening when the day became bright. And so, Aratheah took her trespassing into her foe’s territory in stride.

After a few moments passed, they arrived at the A-train harbor toward the outskirts of the city. Before landing, Aratheah greedily observed the truly marvelous and intricate architecture of the city. Bienfang wasn’t the capital of the Children of the Prophets, but it was sprawling and magnificent nonetheless. This was the metropolis of knowledge, housing the most intelligent of individuals. Bienfang contained the apex of universities and even allowed the Sticky Children’s students to attend during the semesters.

Bienfang’s ancient lux lucis and their element earth had created an impenetrable foundation holding the city firmly on the raging waters of the Lacus River. The city stood almost teetering over the edge of their Stratum. The Lacus River dashed off the rocked into the atmosphere; and on these falls, Bienfang sprouted up like a fortress. It had grown significantly over the past three centuries and the city had now spread out into the rocky soil surrounding the rapids. The docks fanned out from the western end of the main section of the city; it was in the night hours and importing and exporting ships had ceased for the night. It was know that at night, the Lacus Mountains that divided Bienfang from its capitol city, Jerusalem, were feral and risky, especially now because of the recent rumors of threatening monsters lurking in them. Even the Flumen Plains, where few resided since the beginning of time, were under a watchful eye.

Before descending to the horizon, Aratheah stared curiously at the lone light of a small B-train drifting into port. That was an odd sight to see – the guards would certainly have an investigation on their hands tonight.

“Ma’am,” one of her bodyguards interrupted her thoughts.

Aratheah turned her head.

“The people here may not welcome you warmly. I advise that you stay near us to prevent any disturbance.”

“I believe I can manage myself,” Aratheah retorted pertly.

“As you wish, madam, but our orders are austere.”

The ship slowly hovered onto the designated landing pad and smoothly landed, the steam hissing in spurts as the engines cooled down. The door slid open and a warm gust of air rushed into the cabin. Aratheah wasn’t sure if it was the heat from the a-train, but then realized it was actually the natural air of this region. If it was this warm on the second stratum, how warm could the fourth stratum be! Her bodyguards grudgingly fell in step behind her as she resolutely marched into the port. Not many graced the port with their presence as it was too late for any flights. The three outsiders quickly made their way outside where a transport waited for them.

Their lodge was not far and by the time they arrived, Aratheah was ready to strip off her heavy coat. Rather, she gracefully waited until she was in her room and her bodyguards had secured her in confidence.

For the whole of the ride, her jaw hung limp and her eyes were wide. She knew her home, Sanctum, was one of the most cleanest and striking cities on this planet, but Bienfang was nothing like she had ever imagined. The pictures she had seen of it did it no justice; the buildings were gargantuan. They hadn’t traveled far – they weren’t even on the main isle that housed all the government buildings and renowned and towering universities. She couldn’t imagine how ornate it must be. Even from her window that overlooked the side scape of the isle, she could distinguish the antique architecture and designs.

Aratheah gently pushed the window pane open – they had the waterfront lodge – and the roar of the rapids hundreds of meters below thundered and swirled in the darkness. The blend of technology and the ancient arts astounded and intrigued her inner senses. She disappointedly closed the windows as she recalled that she had to call the agent and most likely would be retiring afterwards. She sighed and made for the universal pathway.

I \ point blank range \ section iv

It was once one of the most ornately decorated rooms of the palace, but now the shades were drawn and maintenance had been neglected. A few times, Aratheah had even offered to clean up the place, but her mother’s caretaker would have none of it, claiming that the dust would put a strain on Lady Ischmen’s lungs. Not even the most professional of doctors could give an estimation of how much longer she had, as well as how she even contracted the terminal illness. She had been slowly deteriorating for the past fourteen months. Aratheah was, to say the least, disgusted in ever sense. Now she quietly trod in; a sickish orange hue from the drawn curtains stained over everything and the air was as still as a dull drum. She kneeled beside the bed, offered a prayer, then took her mother’s hand into hers. The steady rise and fall of her chest was the only sign of life that exuded her.

“Mother, I’m going away for a few days.”

Lady Ischmen didn’t move a muscle.

“Mother...” Aratheah lowered her head onto the bed and blankly stared into nothing. A tear slowly spilled down her smooth complexion, but nothing else gave away the pain in her heart. Her mother was already dead to her ever since the surgery: a helpless victim in the shortcomings of mankind. Technology may have taken an enormous leap, but the first inhabitants of this planet arrived with barely a grasp of reality. Perhaps the Fanumni may have been the first populous; but the rulers in this Age of Theories would never admit to that. Their extreme traditionalist mindsets could not accept such, and would go by all means to destroy any evidence in support of that theory. But such was the Age of Theories; a generation persisting throughout the past three hundred years. Advancements and ideas multiplied by the day, but always remained along convention; it was as if the people were too comfortable now, than to taking on new ideas despite the risks. Aratheah was distressed of all the politics, but deemed being involved was the only means to beginning a revolution in ideology. She didn’t’ want to change the world, but rather introduce efficiency, an elimination of old and tedious methods, a design meant for this planet. They were fast approaching the tenths century, fifth generation; yet, all was the same as existed from the commencement of the eras. There were many cures, and all was game to carry out. And so Aratheah lay beside her mother in thought, alone, until the light settled below their horizon and the stars and swirling sea of asteroids glowed in the night sky.

I \ point blank range \ section iii

She was the heir to her father’s seat. Albeit her position in the Chamber of Agents was negligible, the people adored her. The next election would hold an extremely excessive progression for her, and it was nothing she didn’t take with pride. She chose this position among all others to ease her free spirit. To remain retained inside the marble palaces and halls was as torturous as a beheading. Tonight, she would ride to new places; all she had to do was wait patiently for the mundane activities to pass by.

“Spokesman Ischmen, Aratheah. Please proceed.”

She rapidly flung her wandering thoughts aside and stood up. “Tonight, I proceed to the capital city of Bienfang, of the Children of the Prophets.” She scanned the semi-circular vertical room that housed twenty-five chambers, in every other one was seated a representative for every office. All eyes rested on her. “There has been reported of strange activities occurring in and around the Lacus Mountains. So far, to the public, they have been affixed as rumours; however, our reports have shown otherwise. You all know of the so-called ancient ways – the Fidem Logos speaks of it. According to the information we have gathered,” she glanced at her executive, Agent Kolixis, for affirmation, and continued: “a Synhedra, an assembly destroyed and banded during the Bellicose Era and thus, never seen again, has been alleged by a few sources. This Synhedra has been said to be terrorizing the locale, creating so-called ‘monsters’ in the area. I go to Bienfang to assist their military forces in sweeping the precincts said to have sighted these ‘monsters’. If it is by your ballots, I request a small portion of our standing militia, more specifically, the mercenaries, to accompany me in this short reconnaissance mission. Thank you.”

Mumbles and grumbles echoed around the court. Aratheah looked down at her lap and nervously twisted her fingers. Despite her excitement of finally leaving this compound, her situation was nothing to be thrilled about. If she didn’t obtain a few mercenaries as Agent Kolixis had advised, she was almost certain that his warnings would hold true. Although her sect, the Sticky Children, were on common speaking terms and relations with the Children of the Prophets, there was no doubt of their dissimilarities and silent odium. She would be accompanying military forces, but forces of the other side nevertheless. If they encountered danger, the odds of the military forces of the Children of the Prophets protecting her were particularly slim. Her concerns would be lessened if her own special forces of mercenaries would escort her.

“The poor girl,” Aratheah didn’t look up but eavesdropped on the next office beside her. “She’s got to do all the dirty work.” “Mercenaries? Is she crazy?” Another voice whispered. “Why waste the time and money? Don’t we have other things to do?”

“I believe,” a voice thundered through the chamber before the mumblings became too loud. “That funding this sort of thing is unnecessary.” Aratheah looked up to observe the impending argument. It was one of the many arguments that would arise today, like every day.

“Objection!” The Agent of Public Affairs loomed over his office. “Will you say that this is none of our concern? Nonsense! Spokesman Ischmen, Aratheah! What sources claim these reports?”

“Sir, the Agent of Armed Forces from Jerusalem sent us these reports. They requested our Chamber to aid them. They only wish to overpower strange forces before they become imperative, as well as before it could become a major concern.” Aratheah dumbly sat down, stoic. It was rare she had to speak in the Chamber, but when she did, a strange feeling always overtook her.

The speakers sat down again, and the crowd began murmuring again.

“Aratheah,” a voice buzzed into her earpiece. It was her executive, Kolixis. “Well done. I’m not sure how compassionate this Chamber is, but you have my guarantee that if you do not receive proper protection, I myself will send you my personal guards to look after your well-being.”

“Thank you, sir,” Aratheah said gratefully. That was considerate, but nothing compared to the brute force of the mercenaries.

“Any further misgivings?” The Speaker of the Hall announced.

The Chamber was noiseless.

Aratheah looked up as her father monotonously repeated his daily rant: “All those in favor, set your marker.” He waited a moment. “All those in opposition, set your marker.” He waited another moment more as the Agents placed their private ballots from their offices into the central machine. The results were sent instantaneously to the Herald of the Sticky Children. “Five ayes, eight nays.” For a moment, Herald Ischmen appeared sorrowful, but at a second glance, the expression was gone. He set his papers down. “The Chamber will have a moment’s recess.”

Aratheah was flustered, but accepted her fate without sentiment. Such were the ways of the Chamber of Agents. The door to her office buzzed and opened without a consent. “Father!” Aratheah was surprised to see him here so soon.

“Aratheah,” his voice was not so intimidating in person as it was on the bass-heavy microphone system. “You know your mother is sick. I request of you to visit her before you leave tonight. I hope Agent Kolixis is assisting you with any quandaries?”

“Yes...Father,” Aratheah looked away. She despised both of them.

“The crowd would help you anytime else. Your citizens live in complete hatred of the unknown, and you know that.” He put a hand on her shoulder as she tried not to wince away. “Good luck, and get back safe.”

“Yes, Father.” Aratheah resisted his gaze and looked away. Without another word, he turned and left her office, the door hissing closed behind him. “Kolixis is not my father!” She stated, staring at the door. She seethed and her hands turned into shuddering fists. “You are not my father!” As soon as she left the hall, she knew she would find herself weeping at her mother’s bedside, a place her father barely attended, if even for a moment. Ever since her mother contracted that fatal illness, her father, the Herald of the city of Sanctum and all of the Sticky Children, turned ever more cold, detached, impassive, and angry. Every night, Aratheah would lay beside her mother and weep, for Lady Ischmen was the only one who understood, who took care of her and most of all, loved her for all she was worth. She said that the reason why her father was cold was because he held such a stressful position in such a profession as anyone could have. But Aratheah knew it wasn’t true, especially once she was inside the same building and room as his job entailed. But long ago, Aratheah had denounced her father. Although she was doomed with his name, she accepted it as her personal fate for the ages. But the ages were so long...

The day passed on uneventfully, and by noon, the Hall was closed and everyone retired to finish incomplete business in their personal bureaus. Aratheah sat stiffly in the chair facing Kolixis’ desk. Her encounter with her father had set everything off.

“Don’t be miserable,” Kolixis comforted, unaware of Aratheah’s actual turmoil. “My guards are equipped with excellent arms. You have nothing to fear.”

“I appreciate everything you’re doing for me, sir,” Aratheah replied out of courtesy. She sighed.

Kolixis handed her a few documents and scripts, informing her of what to expect, who to speak to, where to go, et cetera. “You may leave for the day. Your a-trans will depart port 22 at XX hundred hours, arriving in Bienfang XXI hundred hours. It’s a short trip; but go straight to bed Aratheah. You’ll be departing the following day – tomorrow – and be gone for a while. I won’t be seeing you till the moon’s quarter is complete,” he said grimly.

“I will be alright,” she assured.

“Oh, the guard’s names – I’m sending Margeis and Regaken to escort you. They will not present a problem so long as you introduce them as your own personal bodyguards. The Children of the Prophets, I know, will not protest.”

“Thank you,” Aratheah stood up, impatient to leave the hall, hoping the misery would be left behind, too. “I will report to you when I arrive, as well as when I depart tomorrow.” Procedures, procedures, Aratheah groaned to herself as she walked out of Kolixis’ office. Next time, it’s a vacation I’m taking.

I \ point blank range \ section ii

The light rays were barely above the horizon when Leigh clicked her door closed and secured it. The halls were empty and silent; everyone had either gone their ways immediately after the banquet or had quaffed too much and was soundly asleep in their rooms. Leigh shook her head: “So immature.” She had been here for four years and none of her peers had grown up. No matter, Leigh considered none her friends – they were too intimidated, she reminded herself. What is a friend? Leigh wondered, but immediately shoved her repressed thoughts back into the recesses of her mind. This was not a time of reminiscing and self-hatred. She was at the elevator in moments down the hall and the transport tube arrived instantly; and just as instantly, as soon as she gave the signal, she was on the main foyer floor. She glided around the corner and strode down the vaulted corridor. She was dressed in her slacks, her city’s colors of blue and green 0 the way she liked them: a deep aquamarine blue and misty turquoise green. She wore a light jacket – they said it could get a little cold at night in the Lacus Mountains. Her backpack slung casually over one shoulder, she briskly swished through the glass doors – the door attendant was nowhere to be found. Well it wasn’t her business. The light was just beginning to send its golden streaks spilling over the roves, making the brick and stone city look made up deep gold and silver. The air was crisp and cool and she paused to inhale deeply.

“Leigh!”

Her brow immediately furrowed by the interruption. She looked down and saw the new student of this season galloping up the pearl stairs. Gaij.

“Leigh! I heard you were going away! I want to come with you!”

Now Leigh’s entire face frowned. “Who told you that?” Lying was not part of Leigh’s standards.

“Tiggy did, he was telling everyone.” Gaij stood quite a bit taller than Leigh. Leigh was smaller for her race, something that had always bothered her. There was something awry in her genetics, and the answer to this dilemma lie in her biological parents; the one problem that relentlessly occupied her mind. Leigh peered up at Gaij.

“Well, that’s nice. Listen, you’re from Jerusalem, right?”

“Yes,” Gaij looked at her oddly.

“You’ve been through the Lacus Mountains?”

“I…I took the A-Transport.”

Leigh harrumphed. It wasn’t the answer she was looking for. “Well that’s where I’m going.” Gaij was silent. Leigh continued. “I don’t know you, and you don’t know me. Why do you want to come with me?”

Gaij’s countenance fell. “It’s…Gillian, he...he...I...I can’t take it back,” Gaij’s clear green eyes closed and the tears come pouring out. She collapsed to her knees and started bawling.

Relationships, Leigh rolled her eyes. Something she never understood about the human race. She didn’t want the hassle, and this, this, anguish, that lay at her feet. What is this? What makes one feel that way? Whatever it was, she was glad she was never in such a predicament as that. “Get up,” Leigh commanded. She didn’t know this girl, but her human nature couldn’t suppress the pity. Gaij didn’t stand up. “Gaij,” Leigh exhaled. The city was as gold as it would get now. “I can’t keep loitering here. Calm down.” She could already feel the regret coming. “Pack your essentials; I’m not waiting for you. I’m going to the 1671 pier.” Gaij was still crumpled and shrouded in tears as Leigh strode past her and quickly walked down the avenue.

--

It had been too long; her transporter was more impatient than she was and the sun had just appeared above the towering skyline of Bienfang. Even from here, she marveled at the view. Her university glistened brightly above most of them. Her pity was coming to a close now. She was ready to go, it wasn’t like her to stick around and wait for a straggler. Gaij was in her advanced civilizations group but a hi and good-bye was all that had ever been exchanged between them. Did everyone talk about her that much? They’d better mind their own business, that’s what they should do. And who was Gillian? No matter, she barely knew anyone anyway. It was none of her concern.

“Okay, b-man,” Leigh exclaimed. “I’m ready,” She turned and walked down the plank to the jet propelled compact b-train. I knew it, Leigh groaned internally.

“Leigh! I’m ready! Wait!” Gaij came bounding down the pier steps and stopped, huffing as her echoes faded away. “I’m sorry I’m late,” she apologized. Her eyes were glazed over and red, ready to burst again.

“In,” Leigh growled.

Gaij listlessly teetered over the plank and plopped down; the b-mail was ready in a split second and took off. Leigh sighed, her journey was finally beginning. With an intruder.

She frowned and glanced at Gaij. She was staring off into the distance with Bienfang slowly disappearing into the early morn mist and fog. Leigh looked away. Let her drown in her misery. She folded her hands and concentrated on her operation. They would have to pass through the Flumen Plains before reaching their destination – and her b-man, as well as any other b-man, refused to take her into the Lacus Mountains because of recent rumors. Leigh was frustrated, as it would delay her by a day.

“So why are we going to the Lacus Mountains?” Gaij suddenly turned to her. Good, she wasn’t crying.

“I’m looking for my father,” Leigh replied pertly.

“What happened?”

“I never met him.”

Gaij puckered, confused. “Oh, you’re an orphan?”

“I believe so, that’s what they told me. But I knew they were ignorant. I can feel him.”

“What about your mother?”

“I don’t know her either.”

“Oh...I never had a mother...but wait, no one lives in the Lacus Mountains.”

“Yes, I know,” she better not mention the rumors, Leigh thought as her nostrils flared. “Don’t question my motives and decisions; I don’t even know why you’re here.”

Gaij looked down at her feet, not even feeling the breeze that blew a clump of hair into her forlorn expression. “My...boyfriend dumped me...he’s the one! I know it! But...there’re some things that he won’t forgive me for...oh, I love him so, Leigh, he’s my everything!”

Leigh looked at her distastefully. “Then why are you here? Go bother him, not me.”

“Because I can’t! I know he’s...that he’s...” She took a deep breath. “I know he’s going to be looking for someone else, and I can’t take it, I can’t, I can’t-“

“Quit saying that,” Leigh said sharply.

“I’m sorry...I just...wanted to run away.” She started weeping uncontrollably.

Leigh shook her head. What a miserable pile of flesh, I’m so glad I don’t have to deal with such trivial topics and fixations. She lightened up for a moment as she looked at the tormented Gaij on the floor of the boat. B-man hadn’t heard a word of their conversation, as he was heated enough that the earliest hours of the festivals had to be spent dancing around a dangerous and forbidden precinct. But she had given him quite a tip. Leigh scrutinized Gaij – and decided it better to let this sensitive girl be. Now was not the time to reprimand. But her brutality got the best of her.

“So screw him,” she said coldly.

Gaij whirled up to look at her. “I can’t, I told you! He’s the one!”

Leigh shook her head. “I give up, whatever. Listen to me, Gaij. I’m going to se some ground rules for you; I wasn’t expecting anyone to come along, so one: no talking unless I allow it. Second, do what I do unless I say otherwise. Third, keep your mouth shut. At all times.”

Gaij looked at her again, a bewildered scowl growing. “How...cruel of you!”

Leigh smiled sweetly. “I will accept your compliments later, Miss Gaij.”

“Say,” Gaij started. “We’re going to the Lacus Mountains? Isn’t that where all the rumors are? About monsters?”

“I said keep your mouth shut!”

Now the b-man took a quick glance to see what was going on behind his back. He rolled his eyes when he saw the short nerd-looking girl trying to terrorize the anorexic pity-me chick. He sighed and pulled out a smoke; it would be another hour before they reached their destination. He might as well enjoy the easy sailing while he still had the chance.

Gaij glared and tightened her face, her face still glistening with tearstains but taunting nonetheless. “Monsters. I heard there are monster in the Lacus Mountains. Why are we going there? I think you’re making a mistake, Leigh.”

“Don’t question me, wench!” Leigh stood up and knocked Gaij back. “Then don’t come with me! End of the story!” She promptly sat back down and turned her head, fuming. Gaij continued to muffle on and whine but she heard none of it.

The b-man rolled his eyes some more and puffed away. They had sailed approximately thirty kilometers out of Bienfang’s city limits. Little did they know that through the fog, a pair of golden eyes followed their expedition.