The Beginning Ch. 08-11

"Plans were drawn up quickly," Mr. Ray continued, "and the Academies prepared for war. Our forces dealt the Dark several decisive blows, reducing their numbers to a mere handful, and saving the rest of humanity from the greatest blight they'd ever faced. But in the end, it was all for naught.

"They defeated Dracul, yes, but the very one who defeated him, turned to take his place. Nicolas, the Grand Champion of the Academies, and the one chosen to lead us to victory, turned out to be the very one who doomed us all."

"He was a brilliant commander and a gifted strategist," Swati said, "but his pride was what turned out to be his undoing. Bonded to one of the strongest Companions there is, a Tiger, he faced Dracul one-on-one, and challenged him to a fair duel, believing himself to be well his equal. It seemed like a stupid decision to most present, but they didn't know that Nicolas had a dark secret— you see, he himself had consumed the blood of all the Darks he killed, and thus, was filled with all their combined strength.

"A fierce battle raged between Nicolas and Dracul, but in the end, he proved to be more than Dracul could handle. He landed blow after blow, both physically and magically, and soon Dracul was drawing on the very last of his reserves. In a desperate move, he feinted with his magic, making it seem like he was drawing on all his power to launch one final attack. Nicolas himself was almost down to the wire, and as a result, dropped his sword to concentrate purely on throwing up the strongest shield he could cast."

"At the last moment, right before Dracul's spell latched in place," Vaishnavi continued, shuddering as she remembered what had happened, "he fueled all his energy into it, but shifted his target. Rather than launching it at Nicolas himself, he attacked Nicolas' Companion, who was too busy keeping reinforcements away from the battle to notice. By the time Nicolas realized what Dracul was doing, it was too late, and he could only stand and watch in horror as his Companion was hit in the back, the energy of the attack overwhelming it completely, killing it in this dimension instantly.

"Roaring in rage and pain, he turned around to exact his vengeance on Dracul, but found little more than a blackened skeleton where he once stood. The spell Dracul had cast had sapped him of all his energy, which is the price of casting a spell that demands more Power than a person possesses."

"Filled with the intense pain of loss," Mr. Ray said, pitching in as Vaishnavi was visibly affected by what she was recalling, "Nicolas didn't even realize it when Darkclaw reached out to him. His torn mind just recognized what seemed like the feeling of a Bond and accepted it without a second thought.

"It's a point to be debated, really, as to who truly lost the battle that day— the Darks, who were routed and whittled down to almost nothing, or the Academies who lost one of their greatest leaders to the Dark, and gained a truly formidable enemy in the process."

"As with everything else," Swati said, as Mr. Ray seemed a little lost for words, "humanity bounced back after a while. They seemed to multiply at twice their original pace, as though determined to replenish their numbers as soon as possible. In a deep-set form of evolution however, the generations of Mundanes who followed seemed to house an even lower potential for magic. So low, in fact, that the Darks considered it too much effort to prey on them any longer for the meagre boost it would give them."

"Humanity was saved, yes," Vaishnavi said grimly, "but the Academies were in more danger than ever before. For the first time in history, they'd lost someone who possessed intricate knowledge of the Academies' inner workings, and knew their weak spots and where they were vulnerable. A complete overhaul was called for, and over the span of the next few decades, that's exactly what we did. The Academies were in a state of perpetual preparation for war, and almost everybody was constantly on edge and wary. This was the world that all of us were born into."

"Hold on a second!" I said, a sudden realization striking me, "Do you mean to say that you were born mere decades after Dracul and the Darks terrorized the world? That you were born in the middle ages?!"

"That's quite accurate," Mr. Ray said with a smile, "yes. You see, all of us— your father, your mother, Randal, Mathias, and even Vaishnavi— were born in the same year: 1556."

"To be exact," Vaishnavi interjected, "I was born in January, 1557."

"Grandma," Swati said under her breath, with a snicker that was quickly silenced as Vaishnavi's sword seemingly appeared at her throat.

"What was that?" Vaishnavi asked, in a dangerously quiet voice.

"Nothing!" Swati said, gulping audibly, "Nothing, Champion!"

"Good," Vaishnavi said with a small smile, sliding her sword back into its sheath, "though you're hardly one to talk. You're a mere century younger than I am."

"A century?!" I gasped, my mind refusing to process what I'd just heard.

"Yeah," Swati said, narrowing her eyes at me, "you got an issue with that?"

"No, no," I said, backtracking before she took something as a challenge again, "I was just surprised because the two of you look so young!"

"The gift of longevity comes with many privileges," she said, "one of which includes looking incredibly young."

"Of course," I said, trying to hide the way I felt. I mean, just imagine finding out that the girl you like is old enough to be your grandmother's great-grandmother— except that my grandmother would have been even older than she was.

"Wait a minute," I said, as something suddenly occurred to me, "I grew up with Mathias and Randal! I have memories of the three of us as kids, playing around and pulling pranks on people, and even getting in trouble! How in the world is that possible?"

"That's a question I think they'd like to answer themselves," Mr. Ray said, "and it's almost time for you to meet them anyway. Before we do, however, would you like to see your where we lay your parents to rest?"

"Very much, yes," I said, the memory of their deaths pulling at me like an iron weight in my gut. Rather than make me sad, though, it filled me with a liquid rage that roared for vengeance. I wondered if my response was really a healthy way of dealing with loss, resolving to ask Mr. Ray about it as soon as I could.

"Very well then," Mr. Ray said, "let's go."

Chapter 10- The Gates

25^th January, 2013

7:30 p.m.

Forest Surrounding the Academy

We walked through the forest for what seemed like half-an-hour, before the foliage started thinning. In the distance, I could see a lake towards the center of a clearing, the setting sun painting its waters shades of orange and yellow. As we finally walked past the last few trees, I saw that there was an island in the middle of the lake with a solitary stone monolith standing atop it. On the far side, the lake was bordered by a flowering tree of some type— blossoms, I think they were— which were in full bloom. As I stood there, taking everything in, a slight breeze blew through the clearing, ruffling our hair and causing some of the flowers to float down and land daintily on the water, bobbing up and down as ripples spread across the lake. Combined with the colors of the sunset, it truly was a sight to behold.

The more I looked at the monolith, the more I noticed about it. It possessed a rugged sort of beauty that said that it wasn't cut by human hands, though I didn't know if magic could be used to shape stone like that. It glowed with a soft ethereal silvery light, and I suddenly noticed that its surface wasn't as smooth as it seemed from a distance.

"Are those pebbles pockmarking the surface?" I asked, turning to the others.

"Very observant, Chris," Mr. Ray said, smiling at me, "Yes, they are. Those pebbles are our version of a gravestone."

"That doesn't really make any sense," I said, looking at it again.

"It's like this," Vaishnavi said, stepping forward to stand next to me. "Nearly two centuries after Nicolas was taken by Darkclaw, the Darks launched a sudden assault on the Academies. Up until that point, the leaders of the Academies assumed that the Darks would stick with their old tactics, choosing to attack us individually or in loose groups of five or six people. Nobody really anticipated that Nicolas would fully accept his role as their leader, and whip them into a horde worth worrying about. Heck, nobody even bothered to try and keep a check on their numbers, believing that they wouldn't grow much under Nicolas' wing. They were all wrong.

"Though we'd prepped ourselves for an attack, we were counting on the Darks sticking to their old habits. When they finally chose to confront us, they picked the Indian Academy as their first target, and we were taken completely by surprise. Rather than attack us under the cover of darkness, they walked right up to our gates towards noon, and overwhelmed the five guards posted there through sheer numbers alone. Rather than the handful we expected, a force of nearly three-hundred Darks marched right through our front gates. By the time we noticed what was happening, they'd made it into the courtyard and were almost at the doors of the Academy itself.

"The Academy was very different back then. The forest around us was actually a cobbled expanse that connected the various buildings to each other. So, way back then, we didn't even have this tree line to slow the Darks down. Before anybody could raise the alarm, the killing had begun."

"Your father," Mr. Ray continued, "was one of the first people who tried to rally our troops to strike back. He was an accomplished fighter with a natural affinity for weapons, and could wield every known weapon masterfully. His Gift gave him the ability to understand the 'pulse' of a fight and react almost like he was predicting a move before his opponent made it, which just served to make him even deadlier."

"Damn," I murmured, "He was a real badass!"

"That, he was," Swati said, with a look of reverence in her eyes, "one of the greatest fighters we ever had."

"I had no idea," I said, trying to reconcile the image they were painting with the loving man I knew, the one who liked his toast buttered on both sides and his coffee with two cubes of sugar.

"Both your parents worked hard to hide their pasts," Vaishnavi said in a quiet voice, "and losing them was truly a great blow to the Academy."

"Losing them?" I asked, confused.

"Perhaps we should progress one story at a time?" Mr. Ray suggested, looking at Vaishnavi pointedly.

"Sorry," she said, ducking her head, "please continue."

"So, as I was saying," Mr. Ray said, "your father was a formidable warrior, and already had the makings of a great leader. Seeing him fighting back against the Darks shook the others out of their shock, and we retaliated.

"In the midst of the battle, however, three Darks noticed that those who couldn't fight were being led away by a brave Medic, who sought to keep them safe. This group consisted mainly of young children, injured men and women, and a few women who were carrying. The Medic's name was Filoemena, a kind and caring woman, who always looked after everybody else before she even thought of herself. She was loved by everybody around, and especially beloved to the children, and I don't think I'd ever heard her complain or even raise her voice against someone else. She loved everybody and always went out of her way to help those she could, no matter the personal cost to herself.

"She levitated those who were injured on makeshift stretchers, and gathered them and the women and children around herself, and tried to cast a spell of concealment over the group. Her Gift and her training, however, were centered on the art of healing, and she wasn't that skilled in other arcane areas. Her spell caused a visible ripple through the air as the group moved away from the fighting, which is what the Darks had noticed, and as they caught up to them right here, on the shore of this lake, they swatted it aside with impunity. Seeing that they were no longer concealed and that their escape had been discovered, one of the injured warriors, Jagadiesh, decided to stand and fight. His magic was running perilously low, and his vision was obscured by a cut across his eyebrow that was steadily bleeding into his eye. He'd lost his right arm in a fight a little earlier, and his left trembled as he held a sword in front of him, his body lacking the energy to steady his nerves. He knew that every moment he managed to buy the others was a moment more for reinforcements to get to them, and so he stood, ready to battle.

"Filoemena wasn't ready to leave him alone, however, and she gathered everything she had and began to weave a shield to help him keep the Darks at bay, while urging the others to duck behind her. They summoned their Companions to help, a Dove and a Bear, respectively. All their efforts, no matter how valiant, just weren't enough to stop the enemy they were facing.

"The Darks shattered Filoemena's shield with their first attack, and disarmed Jagadiesh easily. While one of them bound Filoemena and Jagadiesh with magic, the other two descended on the others. The Dove and Bear stood in their way, but the Darks merely summoned two Foxes to keep them occupied, and then turned their attention to the others. Some of the women tried to reach out to their Companions, too, but the Darks divested them of their Totems before they could get through. With their Totems destroyed, their Companions couldn't come to their rescue, and all seemed to be lost.

"The children started crying while the adults hugged them tightly, silently resigning themselves to their fates. At that moment, something inside Filoemena and Jagadiesh snapped. Her determination to save those under her care coupled with his desire to protect them manifested physically in one of the rarest phenomena known to our world: they channeled raw magic.

"They were both surrounded by a blinding nimbus, and a beam of light burst out from both their bodies, connecting with their Companions and absorbing their energy. The light solidified then, latching on to all three Darks and binding them together, pulling them into the nimbus itself. The sphere of light then rose into the air, before sinking into the waters of the lake, and winking out.

"In the meantime, the forces of the Academy had managed to turn the tide of the battle, and the Darks were retreating. The sphere of light rising into the air caught the attention of all the fighters, and while we stood around, transfixed, the Darks turned tail and ran, getting away while we were distracted.

"When we got to the lake, there was no evidence that anything had ever happened, other than the group of terrified men, women, and children who were only too glad to see us. Of Filoemena and Jagadiesh, there was no sign.

"A few days later, all of us gathered here to honor those who had fallen in battle, and conduct their last rites. Our way of doing so has always been to inscribe a pebble with their names, and lay it atop a pyre as we cremate them with magical fire. Their ashes are then surrendered over to the winds who spread them far and wide, allowing them to live on through the very land itself.

"This time, however, things didn't quite go as usual. As soon as we lit the first pyres, the ground started shaking, and the surface of the lake erupted into bubbles. Right in front of our awestruck eyes, that island there rose up out of the water, and two silvery figures appeared on it."

"Jagadiesh and Filomena?" I asked, fascinated.

"Yes," Mr. Ray said with a smile, "they'd returned, it seemed, but not to the land of the living. As the pyres burned down to embers, they silently floated over to each one, and picked the pebbles that lay among the ashes. With all the pebbles floating along behind them, they returned to the island, and just seemed to stand there for a moment. All we could do was stand around and watch as the ground shook again, and a single pillar of stone rose up out of the middle of the island. The pebbles they'd carried along floated to the very base of the pillar and somehow melded into it, becoming a part of it. That is when we realized why they'd come back. They weren't here to take their place among the living again, nor would they be joining the dead. Their roles, from then and to forever, would be to walk with one foot in either world as the Guardians of Souls, the ones who would ferry the dead over to the other side."

"Amazing," I murmured, staring at the monolith as I finally understood its true significance. It stood as a symbol that everything would be alright, and that death wouldn't be the end. That there truly was something to look forward to in the afterlife, and that everybody we'd ever lost would one day stand by us once again.

"It is," Mr. Ray said, "and since they seem to do so through that monolith, we've come to call this the 'Gates of Ethoria', meaning 'the eternal gates'."

"And my parents?" I asked, looking at Mr. Ray.

"Cremated," he replied, placing a hand on my shoulder, "in the very same way. Their souls now journey with those who came before us, and their essences power the land around us."

"Thank you," I said, my voice heavy with emotion, "Would it be okay if I had a moment alone?"

"Of course," he replied, stepping back with the others, "just call out to us when you're ready."

I nodded in thanks, and walked forward till the waters of the lake lapped at my feet. Closing my eyes, I thought about all the memories I had of my mother and father, all the time we'd spent together. I thought about how amazing I would feel when they'd praise something I did, and the way my heart would sink when they were mad at me. I thought about the warmth and the feeling of security hugging them gave me, and the fact that I would never feel that way again.

I'd never hear their voices again. I'd never see them smile again. I'd never get to hug them again.

And yet, I realized that I never really knew them at all. They were old enough to have been around when kings and kingdoms still fought wars, and knights still rode around on horses. They were old enough to have witnessed first-hand all the revolutions I'd read about in my history books, and to view the birth of every single piece of technology I'd grown up with. They had seen empires rise up and fall, and had probably even seen the world being divided into the countries we knew today.

Thinking about them, about their past and everything I didn't know about them got me thinking about the way they'd died. A deep-set fury boiled inside me as I thought about that, about how they were struck down by cowards who preyed on the weak, and I clenched my fists as I resolved to avenge them.

"I swear to you," I whispered through clenched teeth, "I swear that your deaths won't be in vain. I swear that I will learn everything this Academy can teach me and become the very best at what I learn. I swear to you that I will hunt down every single Dark on this planet and lob off their heads. I swear to you that I will end this everlasting war, and that the Light will win. I swear to you that I will avenge you."

A light breeze set my clothes fluttering, and I opened my eyes and saw a silvery wraith standing next to the monolith. It looked at me with its head cocked to one side, before fading away. As it did, the wind seemed to whisper a single word.

Chosen.

I don't know how long I stood there, waiting to see if it would return, before a tap on my arm surprised me.

"Hey," Vaishnavi said, as I turned to look at her, "it's getting dark and a little cold. You ready to go?"