Authors: J. C. Fiske
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Epic, #Teen & Young Adult, #Sword & Sorcery
“Well, obviously it’s not based on your tone. What is it?” Gisbo asked. To this, Vadid smiled.
“It’s a ship,” Vadid said.
“A ship? Like, a boat?” Gisbo asked.
“Yes, but one for the air.” Vadid said. “Remember how Vice explained to you that I traveled all over? That the Man-Phoenix became powerful by learning from others’ lives, rather than by taking them like Drakearon? And how I could find, doorways, in Time and Space across Thera? Doorways, that are there one moment, then in another place entirely? Well, this is how I found such doorways.” Vadid said, cocking his head back toward the monitor.
“This . . . thing?” Gisbo asked.
“It’s not a thing, Gisbo. It’s alive, attached to and powered by the life energy of the Phoenix, and it is just as much a part of me, as it is to you.” Vadid said.
“Like, so, this is . . .” Gisbo said.
“All new. To you at least, and new, new is exciting, Gisbo. I will teach you the basics of how to run this, but I’m afraid, that’s all I can afford to do in our time constraint, and our time together, is, running . . .” Vadid said, as he suddenly coughed, and a blood soaked loogie shot from the back of his throat and splatted on the floor between them. The two of them stared at it for a long moment, until finally, Vadid, with a shaky hand, wiped the crimson line of spittle from his chin.
“Well, seems I don’t even have time for that. Rolce will figure it out. I’m sure of it. He’ll have to teach you.” Vadid said.
“Why do I get the feeling you’re not telling me something?” Gisbo asked, his voice weak, and dry. Vadid put a hand on his shoulder, and smiled.
“When’s the last time you took a good look at yourself in the mirror?” Vadid asked, changing the subject.
“Grandpa . . .” Gisbo said.
“Just answer the question.” Vadid said, realizing that this was the first time Gisbo had called him that. Goosebumps, the good kind, washed down his arms and legs.
“It’s been a while, I guess,” Gisbo said. Vadid raised a finger, then spun around in his chair, hit a series of keys, and, suddenly, Gisbo’s face appeared on the screen.
“It’s been five years, Gisbo.” Vadid said. “What’d ya expect? That you’d stay a spikey headed, baby faced punk forever?”
Gisbo felt along his chin line, a chin that was still a little swollen from a shot Vadid had given him yesterday, but it was a man’s chin, sturdy and solid, but that wasn’t the only change. His stubble, had turned into a thick, dark beard, and his face was covered with bruises, welts, and cuts, experience, or, lessons, as Vadid had called them. To Gisbo, looking at himself now, it didn’t look like he had aged five years, but ten.
“Then, if time goes faster here, and time is relative, then, then that means, that everyone else back home is . . .” Gisbo started.
“Still the green age of twenty one, while you, you are,” Vadid started.
“Twenty Six,” Gisbo finished.
“Happy Birthday,” Vadid said.
Gisbo didn’t say anything. He was still entranced with the man in the mirror staring back at him, the bearded man with hair grown down past his shoulders.
“It had to be done, you understand. You weren’t ready. You still aren’t, but I reckon you can at least put up a decent enough fight to get by, and do what needs doin’,” Vadid said. “Now, we’ve come to it. We’ve a few things to talk about, things, I haven’t talked about with anyone, ever, secret things, which I need to, get off my chest, for good, and be done with it.
For you to understand your place in the story of the Man-Phoenix, you first need to hear, my story.” Vadid said, as he turned around in his chair again, clicked a series of buttons, and behind Gisbo, a seat rose up from the floor across from Vadid.
“Sit down, and get comfortable. I’m about to tell you a tale no ears on Thera have heard before. I know you have loads of questions, and frankly, I believe this story will likely answer all of them. Are you ready? Once things get said, they can’t get unsaid.” Vadid said.
“Think I’m a little too far into this to back out now,” Gisbo said.
“You’re right.” Vadid said, taking in a deep breath. “You know what? Change of plans. Let’s get out of here. Granddad needs a drink,”
“It’s nine in the morning!” Gisbo said. Vadid quickly raised a finger, then, tapped a bunch of buttons on the console and the time on the top left corner of the screen flashed and changed from 9:01 a.m. to 5:00 p.m.
“I think ya need your eyes checked. Looks like its beer o’clock to me!” Vadid said, corking a thumb back toward the screen as he exited the room.
“You heard him girl, beer o’clock,” Gisbo said. Fao looked up at him, panting, and together they followed Vadid. Once back in the treehouse, they settled on the cozy sofa with beverages in hand, and Vadid outright chugged his, and slammed his mug down.
“Another,” Vadid said.
“You got legs,” Gisbo said, motioning to the kegs on the wall. Vadid glared at him and snarled.
“And you’ve got a shiny white ass that hasn’t been kicked today. Now, get up and get, your Grandpa a beer,” Vadid demanded. Gisbo grumbled, grabbed Vadid’s mug, and walked over to one of the kegs.
“Nope, not that one, the other one,” Vadid said pointing.
“The Honey Ale?” Gisbo asked.
“No, the IPA,” Vadid said.
“Rye or regular?” Gisbo asked.
“Rye,” Vadid said. Gisbo held the mug at an angle, and poured it slowly, then returned the mug to his Grandfather who promptly raised it back, drank it down in a few gulps, and wiped suds from his moustache.
“Better?” Gisbo asked.
“Better, but now there’s something wrong,” Vadid said.
“Hm?” Gisbo asked. Vadid wiggled his empty mug. Gisbo rolled his eyes, grabbed the mug from his hand, refilled it, brought it back, and Vadid tipped it back again.
“Ok, can we please get on with this?” Gisbo asked, slumping onto the sofa with a heavy sigh. Vadid stopped halfway this time, put the mug down, opened up the top of the glass top coffee table, retrieved a black cigar, a double maduro that had a man on the wrapper brandishing two curved swords, and promptly lit it, and puffed away before finally, relaxing back into the chair with a contented sigh.
“Better now?” Gisbo asked.
“I’m the one that’s got to tell this story, and this story needs some fuel to tell,” Vadid said. From the look of it, it seemed Vadid was inhaling the cigar rather than puffing at it. He then coughed, took a swig of the dark Rye IPA, then, leaned forward. The serious look was back in his eyes, the one in the elevator that made him seem so anciently old.
“Light in the Darkness,” Vadid said.
“Huh?” Gisbo asked.
“That’s what my name means. It means light in the darkness.” Vadid said. “Darkness in the light. Care to guess what name represents that?”
“Drakearon,” Gisbo answered. Vadid nodded.
“Exactly. What I’m about to tell you, Gisbo, nobody else upon Thera, knows, not even Drakearon, but, he will, and soon. Back when you two fought each other, or, to put it more accurately, when you kicked your own ass, you thought as Drakearon thought, that the Phoenix and Dragon energies repel each other, and because of this, you would never be able to truly fight one another.” Vadid said.
“Believe me, I still have the scars to prove it, but, you said that wasn’t the case, because I ran out of essence. That’s why my strikes rebounded back at me.” Gisbo said.
“Yes, but Drakearon doesn’t know this. He still believes that IAM and Appolyon are but massive energy sources, not deities, and in this, he is both right, and wrong. The real reason why we could not fight one another, is not because our energies are opposite, in fact, it has nothing to do with our energies, it has to do with our soul.” Vadid said.
“Soul?” Gisbo asked.
“Yes, soul as in singular. Gisbo, Drakearon and I, we share the same soul,” Vadid said. Gisbo’s eyes went wide at this.
“But, how . . . how is that even . . .” Gisbo started.
“When you look back on your own life, Gisbo, it’s fuzzy. You’re human, but me and Drakearon . . . we’re . . . “ Vadid started.
“Not human?” Gisbo asked.
“Human body, human shell, yes, but we both know that’s not what makes us human. What makes us human, is what lies inside us, and what’s inside me, Gisbo, is anything but . . . but, as I was saying, about the Phoenix and Dragon, Drakearon was both right, and incorrect. They are indeed energy sources, but more than that, they are what hold this world together, and in every respect, they are the Gods of this world.
Overtime, the story of the Brother Gods, was passed down through word of mouth and interpreted differently before it was actually written down. That’s why there are so many different religions, theologies, and takes on history. The mortal’s saw things they couldn’t rationalize, or understand, and in their attempts to do so, they wrote them down. To do such a thing, to attempt such a thing, for the creation, to capture the essence of their creator in languages they themselves created, would be like an ant attempting to bottle lightning . . .” Vadid said. Gisbo thought on that a moment before answering.
“For a long time, my whole life, I denied the existence of a higher power over me, looking out for me, but, in that cave, the Phoenix, it spoke to me, directly, and it was then, I could no longer deny that there is something out there, up there, but, that didn’t mean I had to follow it, or obey it.” Gisbo said.
“But you did, didn’t you?” Vadid said.
“Yes, but, that’s not the point I’m trying to say. All I knew was after that day, I believed, but did not believe in following. I accepted that there was IAM, an Appoloyon, Mysticals and Maras, the whole shebang. It made sense to me, in a senseless way, only because I saw the Phoenix for myself, but others, they don’t have the luxury I did, to see something like that with their own eyes. They have to blindly follow faith, and the words of others. I can’t blame them for not believing, because, if I didn’t see it for myself, I’d be right there with them. To believe that an all-powerful, shining bird created this world, it’s inhabitants, and watches over us? It’s a fairy tale! And to chalk it up to, ‘IAM works in mysterious ways’ is bullshit. Why can’t he just come down? Show everyone what I’ve seen?”
“You’re not wrong,” Vadid said.
“But, all that was before Drakearon arrived, and flipped my whole world upside down. He said, that the world started by accident, and will end in an accident, and if that’s true, then there’s no purpose, no reason, so, in IAM’s place, he will give us purpose and reason and that the voice I heard, was just a trick, just his voice all along . . . it made sense to me, so, I lived as if there was no point to life, other than drinking, smoking, and whoring.
What makes you right, and him wrong? I saw the Phoenix, flying about in that forest. How did it talk to me back then and not now? You’re holding something back, I know it. Tell me, tell me what it is!” Gisbo pleaded.
“You want the truth? I’ll tell you. To put it simply Gisbo, the Phoenix, and myself, we aren’t just linked . . . we are IAM . . .” Vadid said.
Gisbo’s eyes went wide, and his mouth dropped open.
“Judging by your reaction, you believe it,” Vadid said.
“No, but, but that’s, that’s . . .” Gisbo started.
“It’s natural to deny, and with that little nugget dropped, it’s time to tell you my story, but please, save all questions until the end.” Vadid said, as he finished his beer, and leaned forward, staring at the wall as he began his story.
“Long before you and I were ever born, Gisbo, Thera was a world corrupted by wickedness, war, and violence. The four races of Thera, after countless years of bloodshed and civil wars within their own borders for power, now sought more, and civil wars, turned to world wars for no reason other than greed, fear, and pride.
IAM, at this point, with a heavy heart, and weakened by the barrier he put up to keep Appoloyon, but also himself, out from direct involvement, could only watch on, helpless, as Appolyon’s Mara’s began to tip the scale, and influence more and more of his people. His Mystical’s were losing, and some had even joined his brother’s cause. You see, Appolyon was corrupting the hearts of men through his followers, the Maras, or Demons, while IAM’s followers, the Mysticals, or Angels, defied them.
Before we go on, I want to show you something, something, that, with your abilities, you will be able to see, but I pray, you do not dwell long, and only use this ability when needed. It, the reality of the situation, of the world, how it really is, everyday, well, it’s enough to drive a man crazy, and you have quite enough of that already . . .” Vadid said as he reached forward and touched the sides of Gisbo’s temples with each of his hands.
“Open the eyes of your heart, Gisbo, and see past the curtain, see this world, for what it truly is . . .” Vadid said. “ . . . A battleground . . .”
There was a sudden current that hit Gisbo’s mind through Vadid’s fingers. It felt as if someone had placed two knives on the sides of his forehead, then, pushed until the points met within his head. Something, something foreign was in his conscience now, interfering with the sparking currents that powered his thoughts, allowing his eyes to see something, he wasn’t meant to see . . .
All around him, right in his treehouse, were otherworldly beings, mere abstracts of their true forms, shadows of shadows, some monstrous, some sleek, some hulking, some beautiful, all doing battle with one another, wielding flashing weapons glowing in colors Gisbo had never witnessed, nor could he ever describe. There was simply no words in existence to do it, and that’s when, through the clashing of weapons and lights, he heard the language, not in his ears, but in his head, and in his bones, and with them, images, feelings, and thoughts filled his mind.