Eclipse: the Beginning

In the Palace of the Sun, King Zemnas sat on a windowsill in his throne room. His golden eyes stared out at the horizon. He was by himself, and the expression he wore conveyed how lonely it made him feel. The king had been like this ever since Celestial’s trial. Nothing seemed to remedy his depressive state.

Namas paused in the doorway. The drag of his robes and rattling of his cords stilled before the room could catch their echo. His dark gray orbs watched his king. He sighed lightly, wondering how long this affliction would plague the god. The look of concern left his visage as the mage entered the room to announce his presence.

“Do you still seek something on the horizon, majesty? Is there nothing I can offer you in council?”

“Namas ….” Zemnas gasped in surprise at the voice. He looked over at the mage with a tired expression. “Namas, could I ask you a question?”

“Anything, my liege.”

“Why did Celestial leave us?”

“She betrayed you, sire. Possessing that cursed blade did not prove this to you?”

“I know she had it, Namas,” Zemnas replied sadly. “I just want to understand why she would leave my side. Why would my closest confidant do this?” The Sun god stared at his upturned palms.

“Is that what has been troubling you?” Namas walked over to stand beside the window. “A traitor needs no reason to betray, Lord Zemnas. Celestial has taken arms against you, just as Lord Zion did.”

Zemnas gaped at the name of the Wind god. Slowly grasping his golden-haired head, he trembled at the memory of the last day he saw the guardian. He closed his eyes as he tried not to weep. What a horrible mistake he had made, one that haunted him every day since.

“Namas, am I a poor king?”

“Hardly, sire. You rule this land as best you are able. We must not forget how early you took the throne. Your crown has weighed heavily upon your brow. You have learned much along the way, and your spirit watches over all of Aurora with the purest will.”

The king looked up at his advisor. The smile was comforting, but he could not muster one himself. Namas had stood by his side from the beginning. He was the closest to family the god had ever known, and yet, somehow, he held both love and fear toward the immortal.

“Thank you, Namas. I … I just feel so alone without Celestial being here.”

“Could I not serve as a companion, sire? Have I …” the mage paused to look out the window. He needed to break eye contact to maintain his composure. “Have I been too harsh for you to confide in, King Zemnas?”

“No!” Zemnas leapt up to grasp the mage’s sleeve. “No, Namas! You have been good to me all these years! I can never thank you for all you have done! Everything I know is because of what you taught me. I … I never know how to speak of my own struggles. Celestial used to let me ramble on until I found what I wanted to say. I never wanted to burden you with that, Namas.”

Zemnas released his grip on the immortal. With his head hung, he hid his eyes behind his golden bangs. Finally looking at the mage, shame was clear in his aura. The mage placed a hand on one of the slumped shoulders. The nerves of a king seemed as taut as his subjects.

“Sire, allow me to listen to your spirit’s woes. I live to serve you, King Zemnas. It would honor me to help ease this sickness of the will you now suffer,” the mage said in a paternal tone. “Aurora needs her king. I swore an oath to guide you to your mother. I beg you to allow me to keep that oath in any way I am able.”

“You would not find me bothersome?” Zemnas asked, a spark of hope in his voice. He could feel the tension in his shoulders relax. He only wanted someone to talk to. The Great Mage was not as quiet and blunt as the former Captain of the Guard, but he had always been honest with him, even when he did not want to face the truth.

“Never, majesty. From this moment, confide in me when you are lost.”

“Well ….” Zemnas glanced out of the window again, still trying to hide his face from his advisor. “There was something I had wanted to talk to Celestial about when she returned from her leave.” He sat back on the windowsill with a thud. Whatever he wanted to discuss weighed on his mind.

“I will listen, sire. Tell me of this troubling matter.”

“While Celestial was away,” the king said in a faraway voice, “something strange occurred during a walk through the garden. It was a thumping, beating sensation inside my head. I had to lie under a tree to rest. I have no idea how long I lay there, for everything seemed to stop around me. When I returned to my senses, a servant was calling me for the evening meal.”

“You say you fainted, highness? Why did you not inform me? You should have been examined by the Angels.” Namas looked hurt at his ignorance of the situation. What things had he kept from him in the past? What had Celestial been to him?

“I was well after that, Namas. There has not been another spell since. I thought it would be trivial to tell you.” He hung his head once again. The tone of his advisor’s voice made him feel shame for having hid the event.

“If you felt it was trivial, majesty, then why does it trouble you so?” The mage drew nearer to the king and turned the king’s face toward him. “Tell me, my liege.”

The god gasped. Namas’ touch sent chills through him. Zemnas could not explain it, but he could swear his body seemed cold when the mage would touch his skin. He had always thought it was because his magic differed from any other in Aurora, and no one remembered where came from.

“Do not be afraid, my lord. You know you can trust me.”

“I felt as if … something ominous had fallen upon the land.”

“How so?” The mage left his hand on the god’s chin, so he could not look away. He needed to see his eyes as he spoke.

“It was something that threatened my strength ….” Zemnas did not understand why he was speaking so freely. Normally, he only talked to the mage about things regarding the kingdom. With his private thoughts and feelings, he found they were not so simple to express. However, something in Namas’ eyes made him open up. He was not rambling or at a loss for words. The words just seemed to flow from his lips with ease.

“You fear it might overpower you?”

“Yes ….” Zemnas swallowed a lump in his throat. He had not even realized how deeply rooted his anxieties lay. The mage released his chin. He could feel warmth return to him. What a strange power Namas possessed.

“Worry for nothing, my liege. I will protect you with my life.” The mage placed his right hand on his chest, bowing at the waist. “As I swore to your mother, no harm will befall you as long as I live, my king.”

“Thank you,” the god sighed, closing his eyes.

“I shall use my power to its fullest to uncover this omen, your majesty. For you and the kingdom, I will drive this presence back from where it came; by my honor, it will be done.”

Zemnas watched the Great Mage walk out of the throne room. He was glad to hear Namas would investigate the incident. At the same time though, he sensed he had done something he should not have. The Sun god coiled his knees up to his chin, resting his bare feet on the white sill. He watched the horizon again, feeling no better than before Namas had come to him.

“Mother,” he whispered, “what would you be doing now as queen? Would you approve of how I have ruled all these years? Would I have disappointed you?” He buried his face in his robe, weeping silently.

Celestial had a strange feeling in her chest, as if something ominous had just happened. She glanced over at the Wind and Nomad, fishing with their bare hands in the rushing water. Neither of them seemed bothered. Perhaps it was her imagination, or the two were oblivious fools. Either way, she would wait to see if they noticed anything before volunteering a suspicious feeling.

“How did you get so proficient at fishing?” The Wind’s skill amazed Samuel, which his soaked wraps indicated that he did not possess. Seraph was trying to teach him, and he proved to be a patient instructor. “Did Raphael teach you this?”

“No!” Seraph grunted as he grabbed another fish in the river. “I learned while I was traveling. I lived on my own for three years. That’s a long time to practice,” the muscular Wind laughed as he pulled the struggler from the water. Samuel laughed right along with him.

“Aren’t we both gay and merry.” Celestial brought their laughter to a halt. “Are you even counting the fish you’ve caught? We can’t take much for later. One meal should suffice right now.”

The two stared at the pile on the shore. Seraph felt bad for the ones still twitching. Samuel made his way toward them. He picked up a survivor and gingerly releasing it back in the river. It swam away, making him smile.

“I guess we got carried away with the lesson. Let’s try to save the ones we can, eh?”

Seraph nodded, walking to the shore to help. Celestial just watched them from where she stood. Samuel was too good to be true. Was he honestly this selfless and naïve? She was unsure if it annoyed her as much as it troubled her. Innocence and gentleness had no place in reality. It crushed those who possessed such natures the most. If Samuel was to be the key to restoring Aurora, he would have to grow up and soon, even if she was curious to see why Destiny chose him.

“This should be enough for dinner. I take it you don’t know how to prepare fish either?” Seraph grinned back at the Nomad from where he knelt by the water.

“No, I’m afraid they hadn’t covered that at the academy.”

“You don’t have to feel embarrassed. I’ll do it tonight, but pay close attention for next time.”

“Right, mate!” the youth laughed at his own bashfulness. He felt like such a child. Then again, he was the youngest present. No wonder Seraph was always trying to teach him things. It was like having an older brother. The idea sat well in his spirit – belonging. It was what he had always dreamed.

“Before I can even think about talking to either of you, I need to know why you keep calling Seraph your ‘mate.’” Leave it to the grumpy soldier to slap his good mood in the face with a comment like that. The Light stood centered on both feet with her arms crossed, staring in his general direction. “Just what were you up to when I was held captive?”

“What?!” Seraph yelped at what the question implied. The knife he had been using to clean their catch jumped from his hand. As embarrassed as he was, the Wind’s attention turned to the large slice in his left palm. When the pain struck him, a sharp hiss escaped his clenched teeth.

“Seraph! Oh god, give me your hand!”

“No, I’ll be fine …”

“Give it here this instant,” the teenager barked back at his friend. Samuel ripped part of his own wraps, dipping a part in the river. “Let me wipe it off. We need to see the wound.”

Celestial walked up as Samuel tended to the Wind’s cut. She wore a serious expression on her face, realizing the severity of the injury. It was deep and seeping down his fingers faster than Samuel could wipe it away. The soldier knew what damage was done, and she knew how many soldiers fully healed from these injuries … none. She stepped in the path of Samuel’s sunlight. They paused to see how irked she was. She released a heavy sigh, closing her glowing eyes.

“How could Destiny tie me to two foolish children?” She knelt beside the Nomad, staring at the wound. “Hold the palm up and open.”

“What are you going to do?” Seraph gulped, hoping she did not intend to severe his limb. She seemed the type to try. Samuel gave him a criticizing look. The Wind just shrugged, guiltily.

“Just do it.”

When he complied, she rose her hands above the bloodied palm. She cupped hands together, closing her eyes. Samuel gaped as he recalled her doing this before on the flowers at Seraph’s home. A soft hum left her nostrils. The song was soothing, but it sounded sad. It reminded Samuel of a funeral dirge. Why was his chest so heavy? He suddenly felt very alone.

As Samuel was sorting through his emotions, a soft, white light emitted from her palms. From behind her closed lids, the glow slowly grew brighter. Seraph could not help staring at her face. His cheeks felt as warm as his closing wound. She was breathtaking. When the wound closed, the blood on the Wind’s fingers evaporated, shimmering red as petals covered in oil. As soon as she repaired his hand, Celestial’s humming ceased.

“Don’t make a habit of hurting yourself,” she mumbled as she pulled her hands under her arms. “I’m a soldier, not a healer.” The Light stood to walk downstream. She looked upset, but all Samuel could feel was stress. Did such a spell drain her?

“Thank you, Celestial!” Seraph called out abruptly. Samuel felt nervous vibes in his stomach, blurring out Celestial’s tension. He stared at the Wind, wondering where the anxiety came from. Was that a blush in his cheeks? He did not want to assume, so he pretended not to notice.

Once she was out of sight, the former captain sat down on her rump with a thud. Her body trembled as she rocked herself, trying to calm down. It had been years since she cast a real healing spell. She was not out of practice, but the magic had still been intense with the little she tapped into. Falling onto her back, she took a deep breath as she tried to relax.

“You know you can’t cast magic, dimwit,” she grunted as her eyes blazed hot. “Soldiers don’t need magic.” She rose her shaky, right hand to hold it above her face to stare at her palm. “You’re slacking on your training, Light. They’re making you lazy.” She continued to lie there, waiting for the tremors to subside.

When sunset was approaching, Celestial returned. She growled about the fire not being large enough, which birthed another Darkness rant. When the lector finished, and the fire strengthened, the trio sat down to eat the fire-roasted fish. With plenty to eat, the conversation turned positive, even for Celestial.

“You never said why you call Seraph ‘mate’. What is that about?”

“Oh, right,” Samuel swallowed his bite of fish, “I mean friend, my best mate. It’s something we say in England.”

“What is England?” Seraph asked staring at Samuel’s place by the fire. “I thought you came from Earth.”

“I do. England is a country on Earth. There are many countries on the globe. That’s why we have so many religions and languages. It’s like Aurora, but instead of provinces under the king, we have separate nations.”

“And you all share Earth as one?” Celestial asked, curious about their military. Samuel seemed knowledgeable enough to answer that. “Do all nations share one force, or do each have their own?”

“Well, some have armies and navies, and others either don’t or can’t.”

“Can’t? What not?”

“After the World Wars, peace treaties ordered some countries never to raise them again. The political leaders were trying to prevent future wars, because some just don’t want peace.”

“Who wouldn’t want peace?” Seraph could not fathom the idea. Despite their division, he wanted to believe Earth could function the same as Aurora, living and working together for the good of each other. It was the foundation of his family and home. Was that something unattainable on a grander scale?

“There will always be restless ones who cannot accept peace,” Celestial said stoically as she stared at the flames. Her white eyes glowed brighter in the dark, but the fire added a new element of suspense to them. “That is why soldiers exist, to protect those who can enjoy peace and rest.”

“Do you have something to protect?”

Celestial looked in Seraph’s direction when he asked. Why would he ask something like that? He looked at her through the flames. It made her uncomfortable to be the aim of such a pure gaze. These two knew how to unsettle her.

“If I did, why would you need to know?”

“No reason. I was just wondering. That’s all.”

Samuel nibbled at his latest fish. His silver eyes darted between the two, trying to sort out who was feeling what. He figured this could be helpful in mastering his powers. The nerves had to be Seraph’s. Again, Samuel tried not to judge based on his experience. Auroran customs were not England’s. The obvious defensiveness was Celestial. He bit his mental tongue, still hoping Celestial would clear that dream he had experienced. How could she when he was acting as if it never happened? The hurt was puzzling, though. He could not find any root source, which made figuring out its owner much more challenging. The suspicion was a mystery as well. Empathy made silences so much more interesting.

“Just what are you up to, Samuel?” Celestial’s voice scolded him.

“Eating.” He took another bite, smiling in her direction. It was not a complete lie, and he was getting away with it.

“You’re still hungry?” Seraph asked with a small smile. He looked tired suddenly. “You’ve eaten a lot. Do you need some of my share?”

“No, I think I’ll be fine with this one. Thank you, though,” the teen said with a laugh.

“If the meal is finished, I will take first watch.” Celestial stood to fetch her treasured weapon. She had left it with the packs, so she could bathe. The boys never even noticed. “I’ll wake you for your watch, Seraph. Get some sleep, Samuel.”

“Thank you, Celestial,” Samuel’s voice was small. He felt bad that he could not stand watch. It was not his fault, though. They had learned how deeply he slept, and there was no waking him till morning. He wished he could do more. As much as they tried treating him as an equal, he still felt like a burden to the two warriors. Now that he knew about their magic skills, he was looking weaker by the hour. Celestial was right to call him a child.

“We’d better get some sleep, then. The voices are coming from somewhere to the southwest. Lots of walking ahead.” Seraph tossed a bedroll to Samuel. The Nomad missed the catch, but he was grateful that it had not gone into the fire. The Wind kicked his roll flat, slumping to his knees. He unleashed a deep yawn, stretching his arms above his head before lying backward. “Sleep well, my friend.”

“Same to you, mate.” Samuel watched the giant roll onto his side, seeking comfort on the thick woven blanket before letting sleep take him. For a moment, just as Seraph’s consciousness faded, the young man thought he felt a strange sense of forlornness from him. He hoped the Wind would not keep those emotions to himself. They had promised not to keep secrets. He did not want to force Seraph to speak, but Samuel could feel a wall between them until the god opened up again.

Celestial sat before the fire. Her back was to the water which gurgled softly. She had her left leg pulled up to her chest, supporting the long blade as it rested on her left shoulder. Her white eyes glowed in the night as she watched for any movement. It reminded her of her first watch as a young soldier. She faced Darkness for the first time that night. Reflection made the time pass.

It still sent chills down her back. She was the youngest in the escort from Eastern Earth. It was her first mission outside Heaven’s walls. Her commanding officer had specifically requested her attendance, saying she was ready. He had told her that field training was all she required, and there was no reason to put it off. It had thrilled her at first. If she only knew how much she would regret it for years to come.

“You cannot trust the shadows,” the Light muttered to herself. “Even the smallest of animals could be an enemy. Light is your only ally in the night.” When the flames shifted in the breeze, the soldier’s invisible gaze darted in the direction it originated. Gripping the weapon in her hands, Celestial ground her molars. “I will not lose to Darkness a second time.”

Seraph opened his eyes, listening to the soldier murmur to herself. He wondered how long she had been doing that. Did all soldiers talk to themselves, or was it a defense of her own? Why did she fear the Darkness the way she did? Was it because she lost her escort, or was there more to the story? He realized that all Lights feared it, but she seemed to have a thirst of rage toward it rather than just terror.

The Wind turned inward. He wished he possessed the courage to ask the Light these kinds of questions. It was not so much that she frightened him; his insecurity came from women as a whole. Outside the estate, he had grown nervous around women, but Celestial was in a league all her own. Maybe he would find the nerve to ask her one day. Samuel had already birthed strength within him, so perhaps there was hope.

“Celestial,” the Wind tried to act like he had just awakened, “is it time to trade off yet?” He added a yawn for added effect.

“The fire is still burning fine.”

“Oh … well, I could take over if you’re tired. It was a long day. I’ll wake you if need be.”

Celestial paused, looking at where the god was lying down. When she did not respond, he sat up on his elbow, glancing over his shoulder. Her blank gaze found the earring on his ear. It was sparkling in the firelight. She felt a sense of nostalgia. Why? Was it the earring or Seraph himself?

“Wake me if you see anything suspicious.”

“Oh, of course,” Seraph blushed, realizing how excited he had just sounded. He rolled out of his bedroll, and rose to his knees. Cherub floated up beside him. “Cherub and I will alert you immediately.”

“Very well ….” Celestial sighed as she unrolled her bedroll. She was still feeling tired from her spell earlier. Perhaps proper rest would restore her. “Remember. You cannot trust the dark, Seraph. Darkness hunts all beings with light within them.”

“Right.”

When the Light lay down at last, she fell asleep instantly. Seraph nodded to his staff at his side. Cherub floated off silently, leaving the Wind to watch his companions as they slept. He did this every night. Samuel worried him with how deeply he slept, and the soldier had been tossing and turning in her sleep. He took a seat on his bedroll. Cherub would alert him if anything was amiss. Seraph’s concern was looking after his friends.

Celestial gave a sigh. It was soft and airy, not something Seraph expected to hear out of the calloused soldier. She turned to face the fire. The Wind marveled at how lovely she was without the scowl. He curled his knees up to his chest, resting his forearms on them. He leaned his chin down, so he could watch her closer. His visage looked sad.

“What makes you frown so much?” he asked in a barely audible voice. “Why do you push people away? Where did you find Zion’s Arm? When did you become a soldier? Why did you leave the Temple?” He sighed heavily, hugging his knees tighter. “I have so many questions I want to ask you. I’m curious to discover more about you, but I do not know how to talk to you, Celestial. It’s almost as if we speak different languages, like when Samuel first came to Aurora. What is your language? I might understand better if I could grasp that.”