Spirit Blood: Genesis of War

Christopher sat on a rooftop looking down at the street below him. His attention was focused now on a pair of men standing off in the alley ready to exchange drunken punches in a heated argument. Christopher was quite entertained watching these men, but his wife, however, was quite distressed with the view she had on the other side of the rooftop. In the alley she was watching several people were engaging in immoral acts of perversion bringing a great sorrow upon her heart and a saddened look to her face.

Christopher looked over at his wife and noticed her dismayed composure. He stood to his feet and walked over to his wife knowing the hurt she must be feeling now for the lost and misguided people below. Placing his hands upon her shoulders he spoke to her with tenderness and strength.

“We can’t change everyone at once. They don’t want to be changed just yet. We also cannot lose track of our mission. I promise you, there are other Spirit-Blooded beings to be found.”

Turning her attention away from the alley to her husband she replied with disdain in her voice, “Why do we come to these places then? Surely there is no one of the inheritance here.”

Christopher only smiled remembering that his wife was very new to the Watcher missions. He’d had the same problem with these sorts of things long ago when he first began to search for the lost Spirit-Blooded.

“Well, Siren, it has been found that a majority of the Spirit-Blooded are quite wild. They don’t know why, but they do know that they reserve some sort of power making them stronger than most people. They are most often found in places like this testing out their skills or even rebelling from this unknown power they possess within. It fortunately isn’t always the case, but as for now, I must go where Shiloh sends me,” Christopher announced sincerely.

He gave her a look of confidence and understanding as he spoke bringing calmness to her overburdened heart. Feeling better about things, Siren smiled, slowly turning her attention back down at the disgusting display filling the streets.

“Did you by any chance get what you came for, Chris?” She asked, hoping for a positive answer.

Walking back towards his post, Christopher answered her as he retrieved his supplies laid out on the rooftop.

“Yes. This doesn’t seem to be the right place,” he answered with sadness.

As the words fell from his mouth Chris began to feel an uneasy sensation in his stomach. Not wanting to frighten his wife, he began to look around him searching for something out of the ordinary. Slowly he turned around towards his wife just in time to see the rooftop filling with Dark Priests armed with swords and spears. Siren was not yet aware of the presence gathering silently behind her. Knowing the danger his wife was in, Chris leapt over the congregating priests. None of them moved anything except their menacing eyes as they watching Chris jump over them. Upon landing back down Chris ran over to his wife grabbing her by the arm and hoisting her to attention.

“Be careful! These men are the Dark Priests of Great Chaos. He grants them powers as Shiloh has granted to us,” Chris warned his wife.

Siren could only nod her head as thoughts of fear and dread began to pierce her heart. No one made a move from either side as the number of warriors continued to grow. Looking all around him Chris couldn’t conceive a way to save both himself and his wife out of this mess without a fight. Then, Chris spotted him! Out of the numbers walked the head priest dressed in a long red robe covered in black runes and bearing the emblem of his faith. In his hand he held a long crooked sword of ruby and obsidian crystanium, a peculiar mixture of crystal and titanium. Chris recognized him immediately from his former days as a priest of Shiloh.

“Malik! What are doing here? You are violating the contract signed and agreed upon by both our orders,” Chris asked him with resentment.

Malik’s short spiked beard began to swing from side to side as he laughed, “We’re not bound by any contract your God desires.”

His look was intimidating at best from his red tinted eyes to his tattooed and pierced flesh. There was no doubt in Chris’ mind- this was going to end badly. With a mere head gesture, Malik’s men moved in on the outnumbered couple. Dark figures were flying from side to side as Chris and Siren fought off the impending priests with only their bare hands. Malik stood watch keeping a number of his personally trained warriors close to him for protection, as Chris’ reputation and skill in fighting were well known.

This band of warriors are nothing for Chris, Malik thought to himself, however, Chris’ pretty wife is quite new and not as proficient. With that thought, Malik ordered his personal warriors to attack Chris forcing his attention away from protecting his less skilled wife. Malik moved in forcing Siren away from her husband by easily dodging her flurry of kicks and punches. Her eyes grew in fear when, with a single motion, Malik drew his sword and plunged it deep into her chest lifting her off the ground and throwing her back down again.

A sudden feeling of loss crept heavily over Chris like a shroud of darkness. He turned in fear of what he’d see just as his wife’s body plunged to the ground. In a fury, Chris’ anger raged out and a giant explosion of light threw the remaining priests to the ground clearing a path to his wife’s body.

He looked upon her beautiful face in despair. Kneeling down he whispered a prayer over her body lighting it up in flames.

“I will not allow you to desecrate her body in death,” he cried out to Malik with tears of wrath and pain filling his eyes.

Malik stepped closer to Christopher, staring down at his blood-covered sword.

“Well,” he said, looking straight into Chris’ eyes, “I guess we’ll have to just settle for you then.”

Before Malik could move in Chris backed away to the edge of the roof praying with all his faith to Shiloh. Without words he leapt off the roof in a blinding light and glided away into a crowd of people somewhere on the ground below. Malik ran to the edge searching for Chris, but with the help of Shiloh, Chris had been able to blend into his environment like a chameleon and away from the eyes of his adversaries. The surviving priests seemed befuddled with wonder over the events they had just witnessed. Malik was only disgusted that one man could escape from him and the entourage he’d brought with him. Lt. Priest Dimnal was the first, and only, to speak up to Malik.

“Sir! Should we not pursue immediately so he doesn’t escape?” Dimnal asked.

Malik turned to face his subordinate, while grasping the handle of his curved knife hidden under his robes.

Shrugging, he answered, “I guess we could.” Without warning he plunged his knife into the forehead of Dimnal. “But, if you were in charge, or knew what you were talking about, you’d know it would be pointless!” Malik roared down at the bleeding body at his feet.

Taking in a deep breath of mild regret, he bent down and aggressively retrieved his knife from within Dimnal’s head. Slowly standing back up, Malik laid eyes on the dark priest that had been standing nearest to Dimnal and, with the same aggression as before, severed his head from his shoulders and set it aflame with his evil magic.

“Let this be a warning to you all!” He yelled at the nervous minions backing gradually away from him. Looking back and forth making sure he caught the eye of each and every man present with his own blood red gaze he warningly pronounced, “If you defy me then you defy Great Chaos. I, under his authority, will kill you and the person standing nearest you to satisfy his need for a life!” Stopping only to look down at his fallen comrade Dimnal, Malik continued with a weird softness to his tone, “I loved him like a brother and he was worth one hundred of you, but he defied me and Great Chaos.”

Each remaining priest stood at attention clearing a path for Malik who leisurely walked away without a mere glance towards any of them.

Haldrov led Jason down a large private corridor to his own personal storage area. The room was in an area residing under the castle unbeknownst to the king, or anyone else for that matter. Only two men had known of its location before now- Haldrov and the man who’d showed it to him many years ago. The rocky path leading down was so narrow that Jason and Haldrov had to walk in a single file. One side was against the wall, but to the other side of the path was a shear drop off into darkness.

Noticing the danger beside him, and smelling the dankness of the air, Jason asked inquisitively, “General, please forgive my forwardness, but where are we headed and why?”

Continuing to walk, holding his lit torch high, the general answered, “We are headed to a secret and ancient place. Only two living men know of this place and you are one of them. Many years ago I was shown this path by a man named Gabriel. Apparently, the room I’m about to show you existed far before the kingdom of Talkain was ever built.”

Still nervous about the limited space and lack of light the torch gave off, Jason wondered why the general was using such an old style of lighting.

“I have another question. Why are you using a regular torch and not the florescent tech-sticks? Surely they would make it easier to see more than a few steps in front of you.”

Haldrov smiled as he remembered thinking the same thing many years ago.

“I tried once, but they wouldn’t stay lit. It seems techmagi doesn’t work down here. I was stuck down here with no light, so I kept to the wall and eventually fell the rest of the way into the chamber and thankfully not off the edge,” Haldrov stated with a slight chuckle.

Jason couldn’t help but smile as he pictured the general falling. By the sound of the echo their footsteps were making, Jason could tell the path had finally opened up into a large landing.

“Watch this trick I learned from Gabriel,” Haldrov said with a hint of excitement. “I’ve never been able to show anyone else before.”

He lifted the torch placing it in an old holder on the back wall.

Looking around and seeing no change Jason asked, “Um, what exactly am I waiting for?”

Haldrov held his hand up with a small grin, “I haven’t spoken the words yet. Toa Mea Grad Na.”

Not sure what the speech had been, since it was neither common or Elvin, Jason wondered if it might not have been a magic speech like that of the ancient wizards. Soon the chamber lit up as if the sun was beaming upon them. In amazement, Jason looked around the chamber puzzled by the ancient writing on the walls and the huge pair of stone doors. Having studied thirteen languages, and being fluent in seven of them, Jason couldn’t imagine how old these markings had to be, as he was not familiar with any part of them.

“What is this place, General?” He asked, squinting to try and read the markings.

Looking back at Jason, Haldrov smiled and asked him, “Please, when we are alone or away from business, call me Haldrov.”

Jason chuckled knowing the general would someday request this of him.

“This, my dear boy,” Haldrov started as he walked over to the stone doors, slid his hand across the symbol that ran horizontally across the doors and speaking the same incantation as before, “is something I was shown when I took over guardianship of you when you were a baby.”

As he spoke the symbols and writing on the doors lit up in a neon light of white. The doors began to slide open moving into a small cavern in the wall. A bright light of an unknown source illuminated the next room showing it to be only slightly larger than the chamber they were currently standing in.

The room beyond the doorway was decorated with painted murals displaying the great Xythanian war from many centuries ago. Each mural seemed so realistic and alive it looked as if you could walk into the battle yourself. The room was filled with books, jewels and large amounts of electrum pieces covering a number of tables and shelves. In the center of the room, on a large slab of stone, stood a great sword. Next to it was a bundle of folded clothing.

“This is all yours, Jason,” Haldrov announced with pride as he led Jason into the room. He removed the sword from its stand and held it in front of Jason.

Taking a moment to think, Jason spoke up, “Hey, I remember that sword. You’ve used it in battle before. You named it Deadly Sea or something of the sort.”

“Its name is Deadly Wave, and it is the most well known sword in all of Talkain, perhaps even further, yet you, who lived in my own home, forgot its name,” Haldrov teased slightly puzzled at Jason’s reaction.

Jason’s gaze never left the blade as he stared at it in awe, having never seen it close up before.

“Because I revere the man, not the tool he uses.” Looking away from the blade into Haldrov’s eyes, he continued, “I will never fear someone’s weapon. It takes skill, not a well-edged blade, to defeat a trained enemy. I was taught that by the very man I revere most of all.”

Smiling with pride for his young protégé, Haldrov nodded remembering his many lessons with a much younger and wilder Jason. Jason turned his gaze back unto the sword admiring the runes etched in a waving pattern upon the blade, resembling the very markings on the doors. The steel was a unique blending of blue and platinum coloring and shone with amazing brilliance. Haldrov handed the sword to Jason with both hands. As Jason took the sword he noticed immediately how incredibly light it felt. Placing the white leather wrapped hilt into one hand and the blade in the other he noticed how incredibly balanced the blade was as well. Jason spun the sword around a couple times in one hand astounded at how easily it was to maneuver.

“It’s so light and well balanced like a normal long sword, but…”

“No weight?” Haldrov spoke up. “Yes, that is the best sword I have ever fought with.”

Passing the sword back to Haldrov, Jason asked, “What do you mean, it’s all mine?”

“I mean you have an ancient inheritance, one of great importance and you will need all this one day.”

Jason’s puzzled expression urged Haldrov to continue.

“I didn’t bring you down here to just confuse you or hand over a great inheritance. I’ve also brought you here to announce your promotion to commander,” Haldrov announced.

Jason’s eyes lit up with excitement, “Thank you, sir! I will not let you down!”

“You must take that as well,” Haldrov said, pointing to a small chest that sat near the sword stand. “Be ready to grab it at any time to leave Talkain and do what you are destined to do.”

Jason asked, “What do you mean?”

Haldrov took Jason by the shoulder and lead him to the chest.

“I’ll explain what I can while we pack this up, but the little I can tell you will still leave you with many unanswered questions.”

The two men began putting everything necessary into the chest while they spoke of past events.

Christopher had been praying on his knees day and night searching for answers and much-needed closure since he’d reached the temple over a month ago. On the seventh night of the last week of the month he finally received his answer from Shiloh. His God came to him like a thousand voices rushing through a coliseum.

“Christopher, Christopher I have come to ease your heart and answer your prayers. Rise up with the healing of your heart being no longer burdened by the loss of your wife, for she is with Me. Now she is a Watcher who keeps watch over those she could not before. Now, rise off your knees and go out of this city and hide amongst the crowd as you flee to the greatest of port cities. You will not need to search long for the Spirit you seek there, for he will find you.”

Christopher looked up with tears running down his bearded cheeks and arose to leave with peace filling his overburdened heart. The two large wooden doors before him, bearing the symbol of three connecting rings, opened up revealing two monks in long brown robes and baldheads. The tall thin monk was Brother Maxwell Clearly and the shorter, more rotund man, was Brother Yano. Christopher wiped his face with his sleeve and bowed slightly as he approached the monks.

He brushed back his mildly kept and growing hair from his face, “Sorry my Brothers for taking up your sanctuary for so long, but I really needed an answer. I have received my answer and I will be leaving now. Thank you for your hospitality and I apologize for any inconvenience I may have caused you.”

Brother Clearly shook his head, “No need for you to be sorry, brother. We embrace your mission and are most rejoiced that your face no longer looks as miserable as it did when you first arrived.”

Christopher smiled for the first time since his wife’s death, “The times were bleak, but now I can rest at ease. I finally know where to go from here.”

The three men left the sanctuary and headed outside the covered walkway into the concrete courtyard. Through the courtyard was a path leading down into the inner city where the attached domiciles rested. Brother Clearly followed Christopher into his domicile where he took a piece of parchment and began to write down a list of supplies appropriate for a long voyage.

“I’m going to need these supplies if you wouldn’t mind. Also, if it’s possible, some clothing bearing no religious symbols. I will need to hide myself from those who hunt me,” Chris said, finishing his list.

Christopher held the parchment up to Brother Yano who bowed as he hastily left to find the supplies.

Turning to Brother Clearly, Christopher asked, “Do you know where I could find the largest port city?”

“I believe you would need to venture to Roogs Port City. It is one of the last independent cities around.” Brother Clearly continued searching for suitable clothing for Christopher as he spoke, “Unfortunately, it resides on the other end of the world.”

Christopher nodded thinking of the most suitable means of traveling such a far distance.

“The winded ships are out of the question. They are far too expensive. Besides, I would rather not take any form of public transportation.” Shrugging his shoulders Christopher added, “I guess I’ll just need to get an old fashioned horse and a map.”

Brother Clearly set some clothing down, “I have a better idea for your protection and to keep you from getting lost.”

Christopher stopped packing to listen to Brother Clearly.

“Really, what’s your idea Brother?” He asked, interested in the answer.

Brother Clearly set another set of clothing down on the bed, “I know of a man who was last known to reside in the city of Maridon only five miles west from here. It’s on your way to Roogs Port City. He would be a definite help in showing you the way. He’s been all over the world and he’s a very experienced swords man.”

Christopher put the last bit of clothing into his bag and closed it up, “What’s this man’s name by chance?”

Brother Clearly took out a piece of parchment and jotted a few things down, folded it up and sealed it in an envelope.

“Take this and give it to a man named Makaylen Stryphe. The letter will say the rest for you,” Brother Clearly said, handing the envelope to Chris.

“Thank you, brother,” Christopher said before turning his attention back to his packing and preparing for his long voyage.

The music was loud and abrasive, but that was to be expected at a wild tavern like that of The Den. Exotic dancers twirled and danced with every attempt to entice as much money out of the patrons as possible. A Katilian half-breed female was the prize attraction as she used her exotic feline green slit eyes and muscular body to lure crowds into the bar. The crowd was loud and perverse, but that was no surprise to the man sitting alone in the corner reading a book.

Makaylen looked up only long enough to find the location of the catlike girl. For some time now he’d tried to teach her the ways of Shiloh and persuade her away from this place. He hardly looked like the type to frequent a detestable place like this with his mustache and goatee well trimmed and his black hair short and well kept. It was rare to find a patron in The Den that appeared to have showered recently. He had one focus and that was to bring this young impressionable woman out of her vice of lust and present her with a life of holiness. Knowing his surroundings, he kept his head down and his attention on his book. His Watcher had passed it down to him before he’d died. This book was all a person needed to understand the Word and Faith of Shiloh. Makaylen had vowed to the priest that he would stay on the path and continue the ancient ways of the Guardians protecting those he could with the power he had been given through his Spirit-Blood.

Makaylen was rudely interrupted from his reading by the quick thrusting of his table to the floor. A large man covered in filth stood above him and slapped his book from his hand as Makaylen looked up. The wretched scent of uncooked wild game, liquor and un-brushed teeth wafted down into Makaylen’s nostrils.

“You think you’re betta’ than us punk!?” The large smelly man yelled.

The man tried to intimidate Makaylen by snarling and spitting, but Makaylen never so much as raised an eyebrow. He, instead, leaned down to grab his book, before abruptly being thrust back into his seat by a pair of powerful hands.

“Now you’re ignorin’ me!” He exclaimed after spitting something on the floor.

Knowing his only choice was to walk away from the confrontation, Makaylen rose out of his chair backing the brutish hulk of a man and his small entourage far enough back so that he could crouch down and grab his book. As he stood erect he noticed the man balling up his fists preparing to punch.

“That’s right punk, get up so I can knock ya down like the fool ya are!”

Makaylen only shook his head as he began to walk away, but the man’s brood closed in to prevent him from his departure. He made a quick assessment of his situation and figured he was going to have to talk his way out of this one. Facing his adversary, Makaylen walked slowly towards him.

“Why would you want to fight an insignificant man like myself?” Makaylen asked, hoping to end the man’s hostile behavior.

The man dropped his stance, keeping his fists clinched, and walked up close to Makaylen, “Cause we don’t need yer kind round here with yer religion and all that!”

Makaylen nodded and stared deep into the man’s eyes pronouncing, “Fine I’ll leave then. I don’t really feel like being killed today.”

The man moved out of the way as Makaylen started through.

“Get out of here then punk and don’t come back neither!” The man yelled as his friends cheered him on.

Dressed in only a robe, Makaylen’s retreat was headed off by the exotic dancer he had been trying to mentor.

“What are you doing, Mack? You can waste that guy,” Rain Star asked.

Makaylen looked at her with the sincerest of looks, “I do not possess these gifts to show off in a bar brawl or to “waste” some common thug.”

Makaylen put his arm around her shoulders leading her further away from the man.

“Now, Rain Star, I was hoping we could talk at a more respectable place,” Makaylen told her while bending closer to her ear so as not to offend the other patrons.

Rain Star shrugged Makaylen’s arm off and shook her head, “I’m not going with you just so I can be trained to be a coward. I don’t want to be weak like you, ever!”

“I respect your decision, but I must strongly disagree with it. I can lead you down a path that will make you more than this. But, you must accept my way of thinking before I show you why I cannot reveal my strength in this way,” he urged.

Rain Star nodded her head, looking at Makaylen with eyes glaring in the neon lights, and answered with hostility, “I am more than ’this‘! I am an independent woman and I’ve made it this long with out your God. I now know I don’t need Him at all just like I don’t need YOU!”

Rain Star turned and stormed off to the back room leaving all the truth she had learned from Makaylen behind her. Makaylen shook his head in disappointment as he turned to leave. Stopping, he turned back to speak with the bartender.

“Would you please give this to Rain Star when she’s done being angry? Just tell her it’s a gift from a friend,” Makaylen asked of the bartender while handing him his book.

With that said, Makaylen turned and left the club and all of its deplorable patrons. He felt sorrow for having wasted so much time trying to teach this girl without having actually been led to do so.

Praying, Makaylen whispered, “I’m sorry Shiloh, I should have known better than to meet her on her grounds. I still have so much to learn, don’t I? ”

***

The horizon was dimly lit by the rising dawn as the tower guard made his perimeter check along the stone walkway overlooking the surrounding plains and grasslands. The guard looked out for anything abnormal, expecting nothing as usual, when instead he noticed a large dust cloud moving towards the castle.

He whispered to himself, “There’s not enough dirt around here to cause a sand storm, especially that big.”

Quickly he reported, through his helmet’s com-link, to the other towers to look due east. Grabbing a pair of techmagi binoculars the guard scanned the horizon. With a sickening feeling in his stomach, he focused only to see the banners of a strange kingdom coming hard and quick towards the castle. The men bearing these banners were all well armored and ready to attack. Suddenly shots came across the wall forcing the guard to focus on a small band of soldiers shooting arrows and techmagi rifles at the castle.

Running swiftly to his post to hit the alarm, the guard yelled over his com-link, “We’re under attack! They’re at our walls! Sound the alarms!”

He reached his station only to get struck in the neck by an arrow. Slowly dying, he could hear the other alarms around the perimeters sounding off and the blast of return fire. With his last breath he crawled over and reached up to switch on his own alarm. With one great and final leap, his twitching hand hit the switch tripping the interior alarms and announcing to all inside the castle that they were under attack.

***