Ch. 4 Round Two

We rode in silence for twenty minutes or so, until I broke the quiet. Uugh um I said gazing long and hard with no reaction at all. Talk, I said with more sternness still. I could tell she was still reluctant to tell me, but a voice rang out of nowhere saying, “Tell him Luan we’re running out of time and you know it.” But… but he’s not ready, mom said aloud. “Then make him ready, the voice said. You have four days once you reach the sanctuary anymore and they will come looking for him. Be on guard however, for He has already been dispatched.” Surely, you don’t mean, mom had barely gotten out the words when the voice continued. “Yes, unfortunately our shadows say that he was the first to be sent in hopes for a swift resolution. Our sources are doing all they can to slow him down and keep him off your trail.” There is rustling in the background where he is. Then he proceeded saying, “I must go, I am being summoned. Aristotle will show you the rest of the way” More rustling followed and then the voice was gone. “Well that was positively delightful, I said in my best grandma voice. Mother, why don’t we start with who Aristotle is?” She responded by pointing out the passenger door that was no longer there anymore. Running alongside the road was the biggest dog I had ever seen in my life. The bear sized canine gazed into my eyes and I swear I saw him smile. In retrospect I must say that it was kind of creepy. From what I’d seen on The Discovery Channel an animal that big usually only smiles when it just found lunch. This time was different somehow though, as the creature and I stared into each other’s eyes something in the deeps of my mind began to stir. More dismembered memories shifted its way to the top is a gradually realized that I knew this overgrown dog. Glancing back over at my mom a smirk crossed her face like she knew exactly what it was that had just come to mind. Aristotle….I said facing the hound. He nodded and a voice spoke in my mind. It is I the voice said.

Half a mile down the road a bright light illuminated part of the forest ahead. The voice in my head that called itself Aristotle said follow me and we took the SUV off road. A mystic light paved the pathway through the dense trees as they moved like snakes dancing out of the way to accommodate us and our journey; returning back to their original positions after word as if we were never there. Alas about seventeen miles later we came upon a small villa. I stepped out the car and gazed upon the lodging before me as my mother and her elf like form gathered to seemingly hastily packed suitcases from the truck, no doubt stashed while I was out cold and spoke with Aristotle.

Afterwards, they both went inside. I must have been out there a while because when the door opened again she had a different set of clothes on and once again had returned to the form I was most accustomed to. Standing in the doorway I could tell she was worried, tired, anxious and for the first time since the year my father had died I realized the I was reading her true expressions not just the façade that parents put on in hard times as to not worry their children.

Looking in my direction but avoiding my eyes she spoke from the doorway. “Aaron, the answers you seek start here but do not end here. Up until now both I and others have taken away those choices that may have lead you elsewhere to ensure your eventual arrival here. For that, I am sorry.” Her eyes finally met mine and I could see the tears barely being held back but I wasn’t about to suckered again. I stared her down stone-faced and waited. “However because I am your mother, and your father and I raised you to make your own choices, she said with emphasis as she looked up to the sky. I believe it is right for you to decide.” Decide what, I asked as Aristotle trotted up from behind the cabin. They looked at each other and then spoke in unison saying,

The lives of three woven into one

Human, creature, or godly one

Forbidden hybrids cross the plains

They fight to live and they fight to stay

But will the price be worth the pain

Will they rise and break fates’ chains

Or will they fall to fire and fangs

As evil walks and Dragons Reign

Silence followed as they waited for an answer, so after a few moments of contemplation I asked, “What’s that supposed to mean”? Aristotle responded by telling me that it was both a calling and a warning to those who would chose to enter into this place seeking answers to their existence and purpose. Considering the events that led up to this there really wasn’t much of a decision to make.

Therefore, into the villa I marched.

I stood just inside the doorway and stared into the eyes of my mom and Clifford, the big angry husky, for a moment, then two, three and then finally the answers to my many questions began to flow as my world view quickly began to change drastically. My mother looked up at the ceiling and exhaled saying, “okay that was a bit intense and serious. Not exactly where I thought this was going. So, hmmm…where do we start?” She looked at Aristotle as if to say, feel free to step in anytime now. He obliged after taking the time to roll his eyes, which for the record, I find to be a very humanly trait and a little unsettling for a dog. He began, “the myths of this world are all based on something. Some tales, like most great stories have changed over time adapting to present day culture and what is socially acceptable. Still, the cores of these stories remain the same just as the beings they represent.

He turned to walk down the hallway to the left saying, “follow me if you would.

Then, he continued on. Heracles or Hercules if you prefer, Beowulf, Rostam, Robin Hood, the Hound of Cuulan, Merlin, Sinbad, Gilgamesh all real and the same goes for the monsters they encountered.” When we arrived at the end of the hall, we made a right then another immediate right which brought us to a door that was immaculately crafted and adorned with silver and gold. Across the top of the door were engraved words from some era that looked oddly familiar. As I peered closer the words before me began to stir and pop off the door like they were suddenly in 3D and rearranged themselves before my very eyes.

Halla na Laochra (Celtic) the Hall of Heroes, I mumbled to myself.

Wait…what…how did I know that? Looking at my mother, she smiles and says “Tis, due to your heritage my dear, had it been Greek you could read it all the same. Unfortunately, I would not. Therefore, we went with the language of my half of the family. She paused like she was waiting for me to say something, so I said, “And that is…” Looking me in the eyes, she proceeded to change into her other form and then afterward with a hand on her hip she said, “Celtic of course, my dear, we are Elven. I bust out laughing by accident. Ha-ha ha-ha, you mean like Santa’s helpers”. “Hell no, don’t insult me. I’m referring to the Celtic elf, the warrior elf, the unparalleled archer, tracker, and hunters of legend, not those little troublesome miscreants in red and green onesies. Honestly, how did calling those miscreants, elves catch o anyway?

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She turned the knob and opened the door as we followed close behind. Just when I stared to believe events of the day couldn’t be topped again, I am proven wrong. I was awestruck at what I saw. One by one the lights in the room, no, the arena, lit themselves giving sight to a long hallway whose floor was like an escalator with the stairs that self-propelled us towards the center. The walls on both sides were plastered with silver, bronze and golden framed pictures of heroes whose images moved and flickered portraying their heroic labors and deeds. Mind boggled, yet again I ask, how the hell did you fit all of this in a regular old cabin? “Magic of course, my dear, magic!” Judging from the look on her face, my expression, must have been that of a less than convinced audience member at a political pep rally. “Unconvinced are we?” she said, alright…hmmm…why don’t we try this. I followed her to the center of the arena. Stand right here, mom said. Okay, I replied with a shrug. After walking another ten paces or so, she turned to face me. “Okay Aaron, so you don’t believe in magic after all the sci-fi you’ve consumed over the years. Well then I guess I’ll just have to explain magic in a real world way. Really? And how will you do that I asked? Smiling, she replied, I will approach it logically I suppose. Tell me Aury, what is it they say about knowledge and the illness known as ignorance. I take a moment to ponder this. My mind scrolls through many texts from both grade school and post graduate. Not to mention those personal projects you give yourself out of shear boredom. After a short while, I reply, “there is no greater power than the power of knowledge because knowledge is power.” Good, good she said. I knew I sent you to school for a reason and the other? Some advocates politicians and human rights leaders believe that the only cure for ignorance, bigotry, and racism, is that of education. Correct, again. Now, if I were to ask you, what is the most commonly accepted theory scientists have about magic, you’d probably quote me something like, “magic is just science we don’t understand yet” and in a way that wouldn’t be too far off. Okay, so how far off is it? Hold your horse’s son, we’re getting to that. Fine, fine, continue.

“We live in a world where things aren’t always what they seem. I’m sure this wise and well known phrase has new meaning to you after the events of today and with good reason. The world as you know it is a wondrous place filled with color and beauty and emotion but there is much more to it than most mortal humans care to believe. Unfortunately, only those humans who are most deserving, willing and able to make the necessary sacrifices have even the slightest potential to tap into the universes supernatural forces. The unexplainable forces that mankind refers to as magic, and with it breakthrough into the many mythos of the world.

Magic vibrates at frequencies mortals aren’t able and or willing to perceive. For instance, if something incredible happens in a person’s life that person is more likely to associate that event with a thing or person or action that they themselves or others took to achieve such an outcome than the supernatural. Leaving only those who truly believe in their chosen faith to give credit to a being greater than themselves. It was because of this way of thinking that the Ancients decided to put up a wall to separate the true believers from the band wagoner’s effectively cutting off the mortal world from seeing the magic around them. We call this wall the, “Cloak of Ambiance,” because it warps how humans perceive the magic in the world around them.

Avidity is the source of all magic. It runs through all things tangible, intangible, living and non-living. That being said, it is also known by many names, by many races and cultures. Martial artists usually call it Chi or Chee. Those who strive for inner peace and spiritual enlightenment such as monks, yoga enthusiasts and religions similar to Buddhism may call it Chakra, Prana, Furyoku, or Spirit. While she was saying this, something came to me. I flash back to the events of the break in earlier that day and although I was watching my mom’s lips move, the words fell silent as I drifted back to what the stranger had said. My godly Avidity must have been enough…I recall snapping back to the present, whispering, “Avidity.” She looks at me surprised, unsure of what I am mumbling about. Then I speak a loud, “Why, yes, that is absolutely right. We call it “Avidity”. But how did you know that? The word barely made its way into the modern day dictionary and its true significance was last to the passage of time. “Well, the intruder this morning said something about it. Something about the reason I could see him now is because I physically changed after coming in contact with aura. I mean Avidity. The more I thought about it the more my head throbbed and the more my head throbbed, the more I felt my heart pumping. Thud. Pump. Thud. Pump. Thud. Pump. Then that sensation returned, that painful acidic sensation like poison in the blood. Only this time was different somehow. The pain was dull instead of sharp, almost like the edge had been taken off and I felt like I was…changing.

Looking down, I watch as purple pigment swiftly sweeps over my normally brown discolored skin in a hostile takeover starting at my ankles with no signs of slowing down. The strangest thing is that I’m not surprised. In fact, this time I feel that I know at least partially what is happening to me, and why. The pain is gone and the feeling that replaces it is somewhat familiar, euphoric even, as I feel myself start to tingle with energy. As if on cue, the memories in my mind that were previously scattered like marbles on the floor wash over me like a stream over rocks and many things that I was once forced to forget return to me clearer. Things like the time I first met Aristotle in this very villa and spent the summer not at some summer camp as the fake memories from the Spell of Uunderia forced me to believe, but here being tested by my mother and adopted father. Things like Shifting, which is what those of races other than human call it when you suddenly change from

mortal form to your true form. Many, many, martial arts forms were taught to me only to forget by summer’s end of what I really had been up to.

None the less it was the training I received in this elven form and in this place that enabled me to notice the shimmer once again from an even greater distance this time and ever so clearly. From the shadows outside the ring a hooded figure stood there watching. Our eyes met and the shimmering man realized that I once again had spotted him. Instinctively, I reached for my necklace and snatched it off my neck. Even though it had been a year since I had, Surfaced, or returned to normal after a long term mind altering spell. The sensation I felt remained the same. The pendant blazed into its bow form as I cried out its name, Sol Sagax, Sunlight Piercer.

With magic bow in hand I rolled to the left, primed my bow and fired. It was a perfect shot right between the eyeballs, or at least it would have been had he not caught it less than inches from his skin. Dammit, I think to myself, what’s with this guy. The man opens his mouth to speak but before he can even get the words out I’ve already let sail my second arrow of fire. Sunbeams I believe I was calling them before the spell caused me to forget. Unfortunately, this too was caught by hand before making contact. However, unlike the first time I was prepared for this to happen and as soon as it did a rupture of light engulfed the room. I must say I surprised myself at the speed of which my skills are returning to me. I think I had been saving the flare technique for my next combat session with my mom last year but for some reason we ended the trip early that time.

By the time my flare arrow had dissipated I was just a few feet away from the stalker. In a moment he won’t know what hit him, I thought to myself. Finally I’ll have my answers. Now that I was in range, I dropped low and swept with the leg, to unbalance the creep. However, just as I was about to make contact he jumped causing me to miss. Hmmm, I thought. Must have been instinct, like jumping backward when you accidently drop something heavy. No matter.

I continued the combination, spinning back around for a roundhouse kick to the face. This too was met with anticipation as my leg struck a surprisingly strong left guard. To add insult to injury not only did he do it with his eyes still closed, but this time he gave me a little smirk. Not that evil smirk your arch nemesis or rival gives before the big event. I’m talking, movie main character just caught his second wind in the final show down. The top ninja gets betrayed is left for dead but survives and kills the whole clan in vengeance quest. The renegade operative of a secret organization comes back and dismantles entire program like Jason Bourne. Bruce Lee vs six random muggers saying something like, “A thief who waits until no one is home to take and run is wise, but a thief who stares me in the eyes will not be walking anywhere tomorrow.” You know, that badass grin that words are not needed for. That being said, in the events that followed there included pain, bruising and a tentative loss of consciousness for what my callused ego and brain believes to be the third time in a less than twenty four hour period. This can’t be good for my health. I need a doctor.