Ascendants of Ancients Sovereign

CHAPTER 2

Against Our Will

IT WAS DARK, BUT not pitch black, yet George Nailer could not see a thing when he woke from his coma. Disoriented, and with no idea where he was, he sat up. His back ached, and his muscles were sore. He reached down to touch the surface he was sitting on—solid, hard, and cold. Now he understood why his body felt like hell. I wonder how long I’ve been asleep, he thought.

George remained patient as he sat in the darkness. He rubbed his eyes and waited for them to adjust. After a while, he was able to make out what he thought were the edges of the room. The nearest wall in front of him was at least 30 feet away, and it extended high enough he could not tell where it ended. The edges of what appeared to be two large doors sat in the wall at its center. They were shadows, and it was impossible to tell what they were made of.

Turning his head to the left and to the right, two large pillars extended up and out of sight. Beyond, another 30 feet or so, were the edges of yet another pair of walls that stretched up and into the darkness without end. This place is pretty big. He tapped his knuckles against the floor. Must be some sort of marble.

George continued to study his surroundings. To his surprise, he realized he was not alone. Two figures, not more than two feet apart, lay motionless on top of two altars. Both daises seemed sturdy, smooth and emanated a dull, shallow glow.

There was not a wall beyond the altars. Instead, the room and the pillars stretched into the darkness. This must be some kind of hall. I wonder who these two yahoos are. What’s their story? And why is this place so damn dark? It’s kinda creeping me out. He grinned. Ha! Who am I kidding? I’ve been in worse places than this. He frowned at the two figures. Hey! Why didn’t I get a damn altar?

After sitting in silence for what seemed like forever, George whispered, “Where am I? What the hell is this place, and how in the hell did I get here?” As he spoke, his voice amplified to solicit a response, shouting without fear of the unknown. “Hello!”

Nothing. “Hello! Someone answer me, for hell’s sake!” Still nothing. “Figures,” he sneered.

He looked again at the bodies lying on the altars. One of them moved, and by the sound of the moan, it was a woman. She was not yet in focus, so he could only guess since she was lying more than 20 feet away.

George knew her eyes would need time to adjust. He watched as she sat up. His mind ran wild with thought, but he said nothing aloud. I wonder if it’s safe to say anything? I wonder who she is? Are they together?

It took everything he had to stay silent as the woman continued to stir. He wanted to speak, but his experience as a hustler knew it was best to keep the advantage in every situation.

Stretching, the woman’s hand came in contact with the other unconscious figure. She jerked it back. “Who’s there?” she asked, panic-stricken. But there was no response.

George grinned. She’s scared. Good.

Again, the woman questioned, “Who’s there?”

George smirked. I’m definitely not the only one confused. That makes me feel better.

The other figure groaned.

George watched the woman jump. Her growing anxiety was allowing him to feel even more relaxed. I wish I could see the expression on her face. I bet it’s a riot. I can hear her breathing from here.

Slowly, the woman lowered from the altar and felt around the floor. Once confident it was safe, she sat down, scooted away from the noise, unknowingly moving toward George.

The manipulator had to hold back his desire to engage. I should scream, “Boo!” He cupped his hand over his mouth. That would be hilarious. I bet she’d piss herself. He forced his mind to change course. That would be funny, but it would be a disadvantage. They’ll know I’m here.

This time, the woman used a much louder voice. “I said, who’s there?”

The other figure moved again, groaning while grabbing his head with one hand and pushing himself upright with the other.

George watched as the other man draped his legs over the side of his dais. This one’s definitely a guy. He groans like a man. He tried to focus a little harder on the figure. Just let the situation play itself out, Georgie boy.

“I said, who’s there?” the woman yelled again with a more forceful tone. “I’ve got a gun here!”

George reached down under his pant leg and patted the small firearm he always carried with him. Well, I’ve got one, too. Hmmm, she’s got a bit of an accent.

“Okay, okay,” the man responded, trying to gain his bearings. “Relax, will you? My name is Sam. Ugh.” He rubbed his eyes and continued. “Sam, Sam Goodrich. That’s who’s here.”

The woman said nothing. She waited for more information as George continued to revel in her anxiety. I’m loving this. She’d crawl right out of her skin if I started to grumble, “Red rum. Red rum.” Damn, I loved that movie. Stephen, you’re the man.

After a moment of silence, Sam spoke in an authoritative voice. “Who are you? Where am I, and why are all the lights out? ” He rubbed his temples. “Do you have any aspirin? My head’s killing me.”

George watched the woman react, searching her person for what he assumed would have been medication. As it turned out, she did not have anything. She moved farther away, frightened that her inability to help would increase the tension.

It was now clear she was wearing pajamas and slippers. Wow, nice body, George thought. I may not know where I am, but I know beautiful when I see it. Hell … I’ve gotta give credit where credit is due. A guy’s gotta sit back at a time like this and enjoy the show.

The woman replied, speaking to Sam in a soft voice. “I don’t have any aspirin. I’m sorry.” She tried to keep her voice low, not wanting to aggravate Sam’s pain. “If I had them, I’d give them to you.”

“Bummer,” Sam replied, looking up. As he squinted to bring his surroundings into clarity, he questioned the woman in waves. “What is this place? Where are we? Who are you, and how long have we been here?”

“How should I know? I just woke up.” After a moment, she continued, “My name is Shalee.”

“Got a last name, Shalee?” Sam responded without hesitation.

“Adamson,” she answered, somewhat annoyed at his brashness.

“Nice to meet you. It seems we’ve found ourselves in a bit of a pickle, don’t you think?” Sam continued to scan the room, his brilliant mind looking for answers.

The fighter’s pain eased as he moved his neck to look around. “You’ve got to love a good puzzle. Hopefully, I’ll be able to see all the pieces soon,” he added with a slight smile that Shalee still could not see. “Where’s your accent from?”

Shalee relaxed a bit. “Why Texas, of course. Any red-blooded American knows us Texans have the sweetness of apple pie in our voices. But my daddy messed it up a bit. You know how those people from Arkansas talk, all woodsy like.”

Sam chuckled. “Well I hope you brought enough pie for me.”

George rolled his eyes. You’ve got to be kidding me. What a stupid line. Put the snake away, big boy.

Deciding the two were not a threat, George piped in. “We’re in some kind of hall, Casanova!” He made sure his voice was strong to ensure he struck a nerve or two.

With her back to this new voice, Shalee shrieked and rushed to take a seat on the altar at Sam’s side. To her, Sam seemed to be less threatening at the moment, which was ironic, since out of the two men in the room, Sam was the only one who understood the mechanics of how to break someone’s neck.

“Who’s there?” Sam demanded. “Show yourself!”

“Hell, man, no one’s hiding! I’m right here. It’s not my fault your damn eyes can’t see me yet!”

George stood, walked toward them and hopped onto the opposing altar. “I’ve been sitting here the whole time. I’ve just been awake longer than you.” He crossed his legs. “If anyone’s interested, my name is George Nailer.”

George noticed Sam had on some sort of fighting gloves and a pair of trunks. There was also heavy tape around his ankles. Hmmm. Why is he dressed that way?

The manipulator continued, “I didn’t want to say anything until I knew you guys were cool. It looks like we’re all clueless. I wish I knew how I got here.”

Sam replied, “Me, too. Do you remember anything at all?”

George nodded. “Ummm, yeah ... I was driving with this chick. Her eyes turned red, it got really cold, and I saw her teeth turn into these crazy, sharp fangs. Then I passed out … and I wasn’t even drinking.”

Sam reached up and scratched the top of his head. “This is going to sound strange, but something similar happened to me. Well … the red eyes and the sharp teeth anyway.”

“What do you mean?” George questioned.

Sam took a deep breath and removed his gloves. “Well, I was in a fight … my first professional fight as a matter of fact. Anyway, after winning, the announcer questioned me. When I looked into his eyes, they were glowing. I felt helpless, and I couldn’t move. The next thing I knew, his eyes were normal, and so was his smile. I finished answering his questions, and I remember the crowd cheering. When I left the cage, I looked back at the announcer. All of a sudden, his eyes turned red again.”

“I hate to admit it, but I was scared. It was a fear like I’ve never felt before. I ran to my locker room, and I remember lying down. I don’t know why, but I felt overwhelmed. That’s when the cold consumed me, and the laughter started. That’s the last thing I remember.”

Sam crossed his arms and rubbed away the goose bumps. “For some reason, I felt like I’ve heard that laugh before … but I don’t know where or when.”

“If the laugh was anything like I heard, I can’t imagine something so nasty feeling familiar,” George replied. “Are you sure you heard it before?”

Sam jumped to his feet. “I’m pretty sure.” He reached up and touched his brow. “Huh ... the cut above my eye is gone.”

“What cut?” George queried.

Sam mumbled to himself. “I think I was cut. I had to be.” After a bit, Sam shook off the confusion and turned to look at Shalee. “What’s your story?” He extended a hand to help her off the dais.

“Yeah,” George added, somewhat irritated that Sam had ignored his question. This Sam guy did not seem to be much of a threat, and it was easy to see that Shalee was still apprehensive. Her ongoing anxiety made him feel comfortable, so everything was under control, despite the fact he was in some dark, unfamiliar place. Today was not the first time George woke up in a dark room and had not known where he was.

Shalee refused to take Sam’s hand while George continued to enjoy her mood. The jerk listened to her tentative response as Sam pulled his arm back.

“Well … ummm … I think I caught a glimpse of something out the corner of my eye when I fell. But I’m not too sure about that though. All I can really remember is how everything felt weird. Oh … and I bonked my head on the coffee table in my living room.”

Shalee reached up to touch her forehead. To her surprise, it was not sore at all. “Goodness, that’s strange. I don’t seem to have a mark on me. I wonder…” Shalee’s mind was struggling to understand, but something unexpected happened to divert her anguish. The great hall filled with light.

The group’s attention turned toward it. This was good, since it was pointless to guess the purpose of the demon with the red eyes and sharp teeth. These were questions they would not have been able to answer, questions that would have caused panic and fear. At least for the moment, the light in the great hall was their saving grace.

No matter where they looked, the light’s origin appeared to come from the top of the pillars. It was as if it emanated from within the marble, like powerful bulbs had been placed inside and turned on.

The three huddled together. “How’s this possible?” Sam questioned. “I don’t see how they could light up like that. They look solid. I don’t see any transparencies.” He scanned the room for answers.

With Shalee in the middle, she grabbed their hands and pulled them closer. “What now?”

Sam pulled his hand away, wanting to be ready for what might happen next.

George, however, enjoyed Shalee’s touch.

As Shalee looked at Sam, the manipulator took the time to look over her figure. He grinned in admiration. I like the pink slippers, George thought. Awww. They have cute, little, white, bunny ears attached to them. Hmmm. She’s wearing designer pajamas. She must have great taste and a fun side. He looked at her backside. Definitely, a fun side. He paused. Hell, everything on her is fun. After a few seconds, he pulled his mind out of the gutter and turned it back to the situation at hand.

The group stood in silence. Nothing was happening. The large, double doors nearest them were at least five times taller than Sam, and about four times his width. They looked as if they were made of a precious metal, maybe gold, and their images reflected off the onyx floor that had been polished to a perfect sheen.

George looked down. He saw his reflection and winked. How ya doing, stud? Wow! Now there’s a looker! I kill myself.

The three redirected their attention. The hall stretched for what Sam figured to be about the length of three football fields. Above, they could see paintings, glorious paintings, which clearly told a story of many heavenly and demonic beings fighting an intense battle. Sam rubbed the end of his chin. “I bet that ceiling has to be at least 35 to 40 meters at its highest point.”

George looked at Shalee and then at Sam. “You’ve got to be kidding me. You just looked at the ceiling and wondered how high it is? Who in the hell thinks in meters? What are you ... Canadian? What about the art? Are we not seeing the same thing? Do you always look at something so beautiful and ignore it?”

Sam shrugged. “Not always. You’re right though, the paintings are beautiful.” Sam took a closer look. “I wonder if they used oils, acrylics or some other chemical compound.”

George shook his head and rolled his eyes. His voice was smothered in sarcasm. “Wow. All I can say right now is wow.”

Sam grinned. “It’s bugging me that I still don’t have an idea where we are.”

George smirked. “And how would you know where we are by determining the height of a ceiling, Mr. Meter-man?”

Sam’s brows furrowed. “History is how.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, some of us read,” Sam rebutted. “I should’ve read about a place like this. How could I not know about these paintings? They’re too glorious to ignore. They must be historically catalogued somewhere. Besides, numbers stick with me. I would remember a building with dimensions this grand.”

Sam’s mind changed course. “Let’s look around. Maybe I’ll see something that will jog my memory.” Sam poked the side of his head with his finger. “I can’t fathom not having a record of it up here.”

George placed his fist over his mouth and coughed, “Bull crap,” he slurred.

Shalee grinned as George continued. “Sure, whatever you say, Encyclopedia Brown. Let me know when the marbles settle. I’m sure I’ll still be here.”

Sam glared at George and then took control, leading the group to the right side of the hall and stopping beyond the pillars. All the way down this side, about every 100 feet or so, there was another set of golden doors resembling the ones closest to them when they woke.

Sam counted eight sets of doors and then did the math. “This place must be at least 1,000 feet long. Imagine the money it took to build it.” As always, his mind raced ahead as he processed everything at once—the fear of the situation, two strangers dressed so differently, the cost to build such an expansive hall—and he managed to complete his assessment without missing a beat.

Shalee directed her eyes back to the ceiling and called upon her training as an architect. She spoke to Sam and George as if she was addressing her colleagues at work. “You’re right, Sam. This place must’ve cost a pretty penny.” She pointed to the far wall. “Take a look at the vertical emphasis. It’s breathtaking. The look and feel is characteristically enhanced by both the architectural features and the decor of the structure. I just love the sweeping flow of how the walls merge into the cathedral ceiling. I dare say it feels a bit Gothic. It’s like a dash of Heaven and a smidge of Hell all rolled into one. I’ve never seen anything like it. It kind of gives me the heebie-jeebies.”

Sam looked at George and then back at Shalee. “Wow, that was a nice assessment, Shalee.”

George shrugged. “Yeah, sure. Whatever.”

Sam frowned and then issued a command. “George, go check out the other side of the hall.”

George sized Sam up as if he was going to object, but instead, he thought better of it. He bit his lip and then did as he was told. Who in the hell is he to order me around? What kind of garbage is that? He looked back over his shoulder at Sam. Hmpf, just be a team player for now. There’s a time and place for everything, Georgie boy. No sense getting into an argument over stupid stuff. Besides, the clown seems pretty smart. Maybe I can learn something.

When George reached the other side of the hallway, he noticed there were more doors on this side. In the middle of this stretch, there was a statue tucked behind two pillars, though it was not visible to Sam or Shalee. The statue was in front of yet another set of doors, but they were much larger than the others. He could not see their full detail from his current position, but he could see they were different.

George called out, “There’s a statue! It might be worth a look! Maybe the doors behind it is a way out of this joint!”

“Let’s check it out,” Sam responded. He took the lead and headed in that direction with George in tow.

“Where y’all going?” Shalee shouted. She crossed her arms and planted her feet. “I’m not moving from this spot. We have no idea what’s beyond any of these doors. We should stay right here.”

As if the boys shared the same brain, both men replied, “Suit yourself.”

Shalee was flabbergasted. After a minute of standing alone, she ran to catch up. “Wait y’all! You can’t just leave a lady standing in the middle of nowhere! I look cute in these PJs! You don’t find bunny slippers this fab every day, you know. What if some crazy person saw me and got a naughty idea?”

George thought to himself as he watched Shalee approach. Some guy has already got a naughty idea. No worries about that.

Sam chided, “I was wondering how long it would take before you caught up. I would hate to go on without you. I need protection,” he said, trying to lighten the mood.

Shalee gave Sam a look to kill. “Oh ... so you’re a funny guy.” It was obvious he could take care of himself. Despite her irritation, she was impressed with his body, and if she had not been so unnerved, she might have found the time to realize this fact. She may have even found the desire to touch him. His brown hair and his soft, brown eyes were exactly her type.

“Can we stay together from now on?” George said in a harsh tone. “This isn’t my idea of fun, so the less we have to think about, the better. Please, no more thinking for you, woman.”

Sam ignored George’s comment and brushed past the jerk as he continued toward the statue. Shalee, on the other hand, gave George the finger and stayed on Sam’s heels.

“Women … drama … emotions,” George sneered, rolling his eyes.

With the trio now standing in front of a bronze statue, they looked it over. It was tall and had incredible detail. The being was a man, no more than six feet tall, but when combined with the base of the statue beneath his feet, it put him another five feet off the floor. He held a staff in his right hand with an orb resting at its top, and he was using the staff as a walking stick.

The skin between Shalee’s eyes wrinkled as she studied the staff. That looks like the staff from my dreams. What the heck is going on here? she thought.

On the man’s left hip hung a long sword meant for one hand, and it had been belted around the outside of his robe. A hood extended up and over the top of the man’s head and stopped just above his eyes. Beneath the shadow cast by the hood, a scar ran across his right eye and ended near the corner of his mouth, but the cut creating the scar had not penetrated deep enough to injure the eye.

His boots extended high on the calf and looked as if they would offer solid protection. The robe beneath his chin was parted halfway down his sternum, and a hint of chainmail could be seen, yet it was not clear how much of his upper body it covered.

Sam and Shalee both thought to themselves, I’ve seen this guy before. But neither verbalized it.

The group continued to circle. To the man’s right, tucked behind the staff, was a four-legged beast that looked like a wolf. The animal seemed peaceful, as if it was with its master. They all agreed the beast was larger than any wolf they had ever seen.

Across the man’s body was a cord that stretched from his right shoulder to his left hip. It extended around to his back and was attached to a bow. The weapon looked worn, but battle worthy.

Sam stopped to ponder.

“What is it?” George questioned. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Sam murmured, “He looks familiar.”

“What? Speak up. You’re mumbling,” George snapped.

“I said, this guy looks familiar.”

When Shalee heard Sam say the man looked familiar, her anxiety returned. Could this stranger have had the same dreams I did, or is this guy’s face just one of those that everyone feels they’ve seen before? She brushed off the awkwardness. One of the bachelors on TV did kind of have a face like that. It’s probably just a coincidence.

While Shalee was pondering, George responded to Sam. “How do you know this guy?”

Sam put his hand to his chin. “I don’t know that I know him, but there’s something about his face that I can’t put my finger on.”

“What about this place?” Shalee cut in. “Does it give you the same feeling?”

Sam took a long look around before he responded. “No … this place doesn’t ring a bell. I’m still at a loss. I’m sure I’ve never read anything about it. Let’s just keep moving.”

Shalee looked at George and frowned as the manipulator shrugged.

The group moved behind the statue and noticed a quiver of arrows in easy reach over the man’s right shoulder. The quiver was tucked close to the right side of his neck and angled toward his left hip.

Sitting on the base of the statue, near the man’s feet, was a round object that sat cradled on a golden dragon’s back. No larger than a basketball, the sphere had been formed from a gem or some type of crystal. It had a blue-white glow and a rough surface. As they looked closer, they noticed the object looked more like a small planet of some sort. More accurately, it seemed to resemble a moon more than it resembled a habitable world. Though it was clearly made of a different material than the rest of the statue, it blended.

The platform beneath the man’s feet was at least eight feet in diameter and had smooth edges. An inscription started at its top and circled around and around until it ended near the floor.

Shalee and George looked at the inscription and then at each other. Once again, George shrugged. Sam, on the other hand, found a starting point and circled the statue.

“What are you doing?” George queried.

“I’m reading,” Sam replied with an indignant roll of his eyes.

George shook his head. “What do you mean, you’re reading? You can understand the chicken scratch on this stupid thing?”

“There’s nothing stupid about it. It’s quite simple,” Sam retorted while laying his hands across the markings. “Every language has a pattern, and I recognize these symbols.” The doctor paused. “They’re just familiar.”

George slapped the top of his forehead. “Here we go again with the familiar thing. Are you some sort of freak?”

Sam laughed. “Like I’ve never heard that before.” He paused and refocused. “Okay, okay. Let’s take a closer look. This can’t be any harder than the 16 other languages I learned.”

“Holy crap, man! You know 16 languages?” George blurted. “I think you’re full of crap. I bet you can fart the alphabet, too. Where in the hell would you find time to learn them all?”

“My father made me learn them during my summer vacation when I was nine,” Sam answered, acting as if it was nothing out of the ordinary, as if anyone could do it. “But I haven’t mastered methane verbalization.”

George’s jaw dropped. “Okay, Sheldon.”

“Goodness-gracious,” Shalee added. “I love that show, George.” A moment later, she pointed at Sam. “Oh my, I know who you are! If memory serves me right, you’re the kid who was all over the news. I remember because we’ve got the same birthday. We’re both 23, right?”

Sam nodded. “Sure, if yours is April 3rd.”

A wide smile appeared on Shalee’s face. “How fun is this? It is April 3rd. I was impressed when I watched the news and learned how all your languages were self-taught. I remember thinking how lucky you were to be going into your last year of high school when I was nine. I didn’t even get through the fourth grade before you graduated. My teachers made quite the fuss about you. They talked about you all the time. They told us we could be just as smart as you if we applied ourselves.”

Shalee would have continued to ramble, but George interrupted. “Oh, shut up! So what ... he’s smart. Don’t get too excited, or you’ll have to swim your way out of here.”

At that, Sam turned. The fighter walked up to George and got in his face. “I don’t know who you are, nor do I care, but if you talk to her like that again when I’m around, I’ll have a few things to say about it … and I don’t mean verbally. Women are to be respected. Didn’t your mother teach you anything?”

George threw his hands in the air and backed up. “I feel you, stud. I feel you. I’ll do a check-up from the neck up. Hell, I’ve got the same birthday as you do, too. I know who you are, Mr. High Society. Maybe I should jump on the Sam bandwagon, too.”

George turned and walked toward the doors and thought, I remember the news. You’ve had everything handed to you on a silver platter, Mr. Smart, Rich Ass. Life has been a breeze for you. Try living a day in my shoes, you holier-than-thou freak.

Annoyed with George’s antics, Shalee turned to face Sam. “So … don’t you think it’s kind of cool we all have the same birthday? Weird, huh? I’m pretty sure I look younger than you though,” she added with a wink.

Sam studied Shalee’s face. “You do look young, but how could we possibly decipher if having the same date of birth is a coincidence?” He turned to face the statue.

Shalee paused to digest Sam’s response. “I suppose you’re right.” She watched as Sam started to move his fingers along the markings. “So what does it say? Is there anything I can do to help?” she questioned. “I’m fairly smart.”

With a low, calm voice, Sam responded. “Unless you have a pen and a piece of paper, I’m going to have to figure this one out on my own. I need to study the patterns. I’ve seen many of these markings in my dreams. It’s as if it’s a language I’ve already learned. I can read most of this.”





After about an hour, Sam pointed and spoke. “The symbols tell a tale of this man’s victory. It talks about how he brought home the power to control the worlds the gods lost. I’m not sure if I’m following it all, but it appears this power keeps the planets they created from colliding into one another.”

Sam pointed to a specific symbol and began moving his finger along a path. “It says here, in a rough translation anyway, there are five planets of equal mass rotating around a single sun. They travel in different orbits, yet they’re all the same distance from this sun and can support life. It names each of them, but I’m not sure I know their proper pronunciation.”

Sam paused. “The power to control the worlds was used to provide the separation the worlds need to keep from colliding.”

George interrupted, “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Blah, blah, blah. You said that already. Move on already, will you?”

Sam took a deep breath. His patience with George was wearing thin. Despite his irritation, Sam remained calm. “The benefit of this power allows each world to support life. In short, the power acts as a governor and monitors every function necessary to ensure this is possible.

“This crystal sphere, the one sitting on the statue’s base, is the source of this power. The crystal was lost in a god war, and it was this man who retrieved it and returned it to the gods.

“Apparently, he was rewarded for this. The deities who gave him his reward are called, if I’m reading this right, the Farendrite Collective.” Sam frowned. “I can’t recall learning about them in what I’ve studied. I also don’t know how many gods form the Collective, but the writing does allude to more than one.”

Sam stopped and brushed his fingers along three of the symbols. “It looks like this man’s name is Bassorine, but I don’t see a last name.”

Shalee’s brows furrowed. “What was that name again ... Bass-o-reen?”

Sam grinned. “No ... you butchered it pretty badly. Try and say it like this ... Ba-sore-in.”

“Huh! Sounds the same to me,” Shalee rebutted.

Sam rolled his eyes. “Let’s just keep going, shall we?” He pointed to another set of symbols. “This part of the inscription talks about a prophecy. A group, two men and a woman, will be called upon to recover the pieces of the Crystal Moon.” He paused in thought as he studied the orb on the dragon’s back. “This must be the sphere’s name.”

Again, Sam paused. “Anyway, two of the three will fight to recover the pieces of the crystal, and one will fall by the wayside.” His brow furrowed. “That’s odd. It doesn’t say anything more about what happens to this third person.”

Shaking off his irritation at the lack of information, Sam continued. “To clarify, the two remaining will be asked to retrieve the pieces of the Crystal Moon before life is destroyed and the worlds collide. If the pieces are not reunited, the planets’ orbits will decay and start to shift. Chaos will ensue.

“But there does appear to be hope. If the pieces are retrieved quickly enough and brought together to re-form the Crystal Moon, disaster will be averted, and there will be a reward. Huh ... it also says something about races. Apparently, the races of the new worlds will be given permission to live together on any world they choose.”

George cut in. “What the hell does that mean?”

Sam shrugged. “I don’t know. According to the inscription, allowing the races to be joined is a big deal. Supposedly, the success of the two retrieving the pieces of the Crystal Moon will somehow prove to the gods that the races can get along.” Puzzled, Sam scratched his head. “I’m not sure how two people going after pieces of crystal would prove this, but that’s what it says.”

Sam looked back down at the markings. “The way it is now, only certain races are allowed to live on specific planets. It doesn’t explain what it means by races. So I can only assume they’re similar to what we know.”

Changing direction, Sam scratched the top of his head again. “Without a way to reference a date, I can’t determine how old the statue is. There is something rather interesting here at the bottom though. It says the group is to awaken the statue and receive instruction to start on the path of their new destinies. Call me crazy, but it feels like it’s referring to us.”

“What do you mean, ‘our’ destinies?” George barked in a sarcastic tone. “Do you actually believe this crap? It could be referring to anyone, not us. I think it’s vain to think we’re the group it’s talking about.”

The jerk threw his hands in the air. “I don’t think any of us wants to be the one who falls by the wayside. Doesn’t that mean death or something tragic? I sell RVs and boats for a living for hell’s sake. I’m not a part of any prophecy. Tell him, Shalee. You’ve got to feel me, right?”

Shalee looked at George, then at Sam. “I kind of agree. This does seem pretty weird. I’m just an architect, and I can’t fathom being part of a prophecy. But…” she hesitated, “but how fun would it be, even if only for a little while, to do something different for a change? I mean, don’t you ever…” She shuffled her feet. “Don’t you ever want to be a part of something larger than yourself? What if…? What if it’s…?”

George exploded. “You’ve got to be kidding me! You’re nuts! I must still be sleeping!” He turned to Sam. “I’ve officially met my first genius, and you’re pathetic. How could you be so off in the head? Wait, I know ... it’s because of everything that’s crammed in that brain of yours.”

George turned to Shalee. “And you take the cake! You’re buying into this crock! I knew blondes were—”

Sam interrupted, “You finish that sentence, and I’ll break you in half! I never said I bought into any of this, and neither did Shalee. She simply said it would be fun to be a part of something different. I think she means she wants to be a part of something important.”

George threw his hands up and walked off. “Whatever!”

Sam shook his head in disgust, turned, and started to pace. “Okay, okay.” He took another deep breath to collect his composure. “Let me think this through for a minute. A better plan is in order.”

George returned to the group. “You’re right. Let’s just chill for a bit. We won’t get anywhere if we don’t work together. I was wrong to get upset. So I apologize. What are we going to do now?”

Shalee smiled and accepted the apology. She also acknowledged the need to keep clear heads. Turning to Sam, she said, “Well … it’s sort of looking like you’re the brains of this here operation. I happen to be all ears.” Shalee grinned flirtatiously as she put her right hand on Sam’s left shoulder.

George rolled his eyes. “Can we get on with the brainstorming? You guys can get a room later.”

Shalee blushed and pulled her hand away. “Yes. Let the brainstorming begin.”

“Okay, okay. Let’s look at this logically,” Sam said as he studied the inscription. “We have in front of us a puzzle, it seems. ‘Awakening the statue’ must be a metaphor. At least I hope it’s a metaphor.”

“What the hell do you mean by ‘hope?’” George sneered, forgetting about the fact that he had just apologized. “You actually believe this thing will come to life? Are you seriously that twisted?”

Before addressing George, Sam examined the statue again. “I’m not twisted, but something is telling me we aren’t in Kansas anymore.”

“What?” George roared. “What the hell does Kansas have to do with anything, Captain Cliché? Speak up, Dorothy.”

Sam frowned as he glared at George.

Shalee took a step back and waited for the altercation.

George held up his hands. “Look … I’m sorry. I’m listening.”

Sam took a deep breath and then turned his attention back to the statue. “I know it won’t literally come to life, George, but maybe it will produce some sort of message that will give us a few answers.”

George rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath, “At least the damn statue would be more interesting to listen to if it did wake up.”

With Shalee on Sam’s heels, the genius circled the statue. George looked back and forth from Sam to the bronze man as he waited for the next big revelation.

“There’s only one thing that’s not like the others,” Sam announced. “I’m sure you remember the jingle. ‘One of these things is not like the others. Can you tell which one?’”

George’s jaw dropped. “Are you for real? Did you just sing a Sesame Street song? What the hell ... a genius singing Sesame Street? What a treat. Why would a guy with your intelligence watch such a ridiculous show? Better yet, why are you stupid enough to let us know you did?”

The hall fell silent as Sam struggled to keep his composure. After another deep breath, he responded. “Okay, okay. It’s like this, idiot. I didn’t watch the show. I preferred the Science Channel while I was growing up. The kids who come into my office watch it while they sit in the waiting room. I’m sure you know what a medical office is. You know, a place with a 300 gallon fish tank, 60 inch flat screen for patients to watch, cozy chairs that cushion the most sensitive of asses, and actual doctors that walk the halls and converse like they have a brain.” He captured George’s eyes. “You know, a place where doctors solve complex medical issues. Oh, oh! And we’re looking for a janitor. You should apply. You can use my name as a reference. I own the joint, so I pull a lot of weight there.”

“Ha!” George scoffed as he ignored much of Sam’s retort. “Sure, blame it on the kids. You expect me to believe you’re a doctor? I bet Big Bird will be happy to hear you’re on call. How about I tell the Cookie Monster to help you with your rounds? I bet Oscar the Grouch has a stethoscope you could borrow, and you could use it to listen to the fish.”

George looked at Shalee. “Dr. Sam is going to save us all. My hell.” He looked back at Sam. “Make your point, Doogie Howser. What were you going to say about your stupid, little song?”

Shalee took another step back, unsure how Sam would react to George’s assault.

Sam clenched his fists. It took all he had not to punch George. After a second thought, he changed his mind and drilled the jerk on the upper part of his right arm. “Shut up, and stop being an ass!” he hollered.

George grabbed his arm after landing on the floor. “Damn it, man! That freaking hurt! Sorry! Crap! Just stop already!”

Sam turned toward the statue without saying another word. He calmed himself by taking three, deep breaths. After a minute, he continued. “Okay, okay. The statue of this man, his wolf, and the base they’re standing on, all look to be made of bronze. The one thing that’s different is this crystal ball and the dragon that cradles it.”

Sam pointed to the orb. “Look. If you get closer, you can see the crystal has creases, almost as if it has been put together.” Sam counted the pieces. “I see five, and since the sphere is made of a different material than the rest of the statue, maybe that’s where we should focus our attention.”

Hearing Sam’s logic, George stood and walked past him. He lifted himself onto the base of the statue, wincing from the pain in his arm. “Damn you, man. My arm almost gave out. This better not bruise, or I’ll—”

“You’ll what?” Sam snapped.

George stared at the fighter. It was not long before he thought better of the confrontation. He turned and looked down at the crystal. “Let’s find out if you’re right, you big bully. Let’s take it with us. I bet it’s worth something.” He bent over and reached for one of the pieces.

“Wait,” Sam responded.

It was too late. George had already grabbed the piece closest to him and separated it from the rest. Before a word of chastisement could be uttered, the other four pieces of the sphere vanished, leaving George holding the remaining piece.

“Holy crap, man! Did you see that? The damn thing just disappeared. Now what?”

Shalee grabbed Sam’s arm and moved behind him. She felt the need to do something, but she had no idea what that something was. She could not explain it, but she knew they were in for a ride.

Sam removed Shalee’s hands, but allowed her to stay behind him. He turned back to George. “Get down from there!”

Before George could take a step, the statue began to shake. The floor beneath opened, and the base of the statue tumbled into the darkness, taking George with it.

“George!” Sam shouted as he watched the jerk disappear into the darkness beyond the mouth of the hole. All that was left behind was the bronze man and the wolf, floating in air.

The fighter paused for only a second before he took action. First, he turned to Shalee and motioned for her to move to the other side of the hall. She went without hesitation, her pink slippers making scuffling noises as she hurried across the floor.

Second, Sam turned to face the floating remains. The floor had reappeared, and now, both the man and his wolf were made of flesh. “So much for metaphors,” Sam muttered under his breath.

Having been caught in many stressful situations due to his fighting and medical careers, Sam remained focused, despite Shalee’s screaming in the background. Okay, okay. They’re asleep, he assessed. But they could wake, and what if they’re a threat? A moment later, he made a rash decision. Two against one isn’t fair odds. I should dispose of the wolf first.

Sam darted across the room, grabbed the wolf by its hind legs, ripped it out of the air, and slammed the beast onto the floor. The animal woke. It tried to bite Sam’s arm, but missed. Sam was forced to let go to avoid its sharp teeth.

The beast jumped to its feet and prepared to attack.

Sam’s mind took over, running the scene in slow motion as he prepared for the predator’s next move.

The wolf charged, leaping at the doctor’s throat.

Sam stepped to his right. As the beast passed, the fighter used his fist to deliver a crushing right hand to the left side of the wolf’s neck. His four-legged adversary landed and howled as it turned for another attack.

Sam studied his opponent, his mind searching for weak points. But with all his knowledge, he did not know the creature’s anatomy like he did a man’s. The best way to defeat the wolf would be to get it by the throat and squeeze the life out of it. He grinned and thought, Easier said than done.

The wolf made three more passes. Each time, Sam managed to avoid the attack and hit the beast on some part of its body. After the fourth pass, Shalee reached down, removed the bunny slipper from her left foot and whipped it across the hall, striking the wolf on the end of its snout.

The beast turned and gave Shalee an “Oh no you didn’t” look and then growled. It had a new target now.

Sam tried to regain the creature’s attention, but the wolf was already moving in Shalee’s direction, slowly at first, and then it broke into a run.

Realizing she was now on the menu, Shalee screamed.

As the beast passed Sam, the fighter decided it was all or nothing. He took three running steps, calculating the angle where the wolf would be when he landed and then launched into the air.

Sam landed with all his weight on the creature’s back, pinning it to the floor. The sudden impact caused the wolf’s saliva to flip free from its jowls and arc through the air. It landed with an audible plop on the end of Shalee’s nose.

The stench was vile. Shalee was quick to wipe it off, but the damage had been done. Her eyes rolled up inside her head as she fell limp to the floor. Her look of terror changed to one of sweet repose as the image of her beautiful face reflected off the polished surface.

Sam sat up and raised his elbow. He was about to bring it down across the back of the animal’s neck when a booming voice filled the hall.

The voice was thunderous and echoed. “ENOUGH!”

Sam and the wolf were startled. Sam dropped his elbow, and the animal lying beneath him stopped struggling. The fighter looked over his shoulder. To his surprise, the statue-man was awake and walking toward him.

Thinking he should finish off the wolf to prepare for the next fight, Sam failed to recall the words on the base of the statue. This approaching man was supposed to be a god, and by the look of things, Sam and Shalee were the two members of the group who had not fallen by the wayside.

Again, Sam raised his elbow to strike, but before he could deliver the blow to the back of the animal’s neck, he was sent flying through the air. The fighter slammed high against one of the pillars closest to where the floor had opened.

Pinned, suspended, and unable to move his arms, legs or head, Sam’s eyes followed the hooded god as he moved to a position beneath him and looked up. “Perhaps you misunderstood. I said, enough!”

The god’s voice was hard and strong. The power behind it filled the air. “My name is Bassorine. I am the God of War. I have chosen to use my statue to welcome you to Grayham. It is I who will answer your questions, and it is you who will listen when I speak. Do we have an understanding, my mortal friend?”

Bassorine waved his arm, releasing Sam from his unseen bonds. As Sam drifted to the floor, he replayed the sound of the word ‘mortal’ in his head. He realized that in his haste to control his surroundings, he had overlooked the godly part of the prophecy and had attacked needlessly.

Knowing he was helpless against such power, Sam reluctantly replied, “I understand,” and further thought, Besides, I’d get my ass kicked.

Sam said nothing more as he watched the “so-called” God of War walk toward Shalee. Bassorine stopped above her and moved his hand over her body. Her mass lifted from the floor and hung suspended, high enough for the god to stroke her face without bending over.

Shalee’s eyelids fluttered as Bassorine set the human back on her feet. As he waited for Shalee to regain her balance, Bassorine could see the frightened look on her face. “Be comforted, lovely one. No harm will come to you.”

It took a fair series of moments before Shalee was able to calm down. She moved to stand beside Sam after Bassorine motioned for her to do so.

The heavy-coated wolf moved away from the God of War to explore its surroundings. As it did, the beast limped over to Sam and sniffed the fighter’s feet. The animal pulled back and snorted its disapproval.

Moving on to Shalee, the beast seemed to find delight in this new aroma. With each sniff, the wolf’s snout rose higher and higher until it took in a heavy breath of her backside. As it circled to the front, a better aroma was found.

Shalee was beginning to feel violated as she stood in stunned silence. The warm air from the wolf’s snout was passing through her PJs—like Mother Nature’s summer breeze.

“Mosley, stop that!” Bassorine commanded.

The wolf pulled back and turned to face the god. What happened next caught Sam and Shalee off guard. The beast spoke. “What? Her aroma is magnificent.” He looked at Sam. “But your smell curls the hair in my snout. You don’t run with the rest of your pack. Your odor is selfish.” The wolf looked back at Bassorine. “The human doesn’t have the smell of a leader as you said he would.”

Mosley looked back at Sam. “Despite your stench, you fought well. I can’t remember the last series of moments in which I was hit that hard ... a few well-placed blows your paws delivered to my flanks. I hope you were unharmed.”

Despite the impossibility of a wolf speaking, Sam was irritated by the wolf’s flawed recollection of the fight. The genius moved past the fact the animal could speak—a fact Shalee was still digesting—and rebutted. “Of course I wasn’t harmed. You didn’t touch me.”

Sam turned his attention toward Bassorine. Respecting the god’s power, he was careful to choose his words. “You said you used your statue to greet us. You also said you would answer my questions, and I should listen when you speak. Maybe we could have a conversation?”

Bassorine nodded and then motioned for the wolf to stand by his side. “This is my companion, Mosley.”

The beast looked up at Shalee, gave her a wolfish grin and winked before complying with the god’s desire.





Bassorine, God of War





Bassorine reached down to scratch the back of the animal’s head. “Mosley is the finest companion a man, or god, could have. He’s a night terror wolf. On many occasions, before I ascended, this beast saved my life. He is loyal. I have given him an extended existence because of his actions. He will live many, many seasons before he joins me in the heavens.”

Sam took a second to admire the animal’s beauty, and then he raised his right hand as if he was in school.

Bassorine motioned for Sam to speak.

“Okay, okay. Let me get this straight...” He reiterated what he had just learned. He concluded by saying, “...And we’re in a place called Grayham. Is that about it? Do I have it right so far?”

Bassorine sighed. “You’re not in Grayham. You are on the world of Grayham. More specifically, you’re on the continent of Southern Grayham.” The god motioned to the section of the floor that had held his statue. “My likeness and the base it stood upon have sat within this hall for over 10,000 seasons and served two purposes. The first was to celebrate the victory I attained when fighting to return the Crystal Moon to the gods. The second, was to act as this world’s placeholder for the true Crystal Moon. As you know, its power provides the planets the ability to support life.”

Bassorine lifted his right hand and pointed to the paintings on the ceiling. “The Crystal Moon is kept in this temple for all to come and worship. They marvel at its beauty, but more importantly, they acknowledge my glory. The Collective felt my statue would be a fitting test to see how you’d handle the adversity of your arrival.”

Shalee butted into the conversation with a question of her own. “How do you protect the Crystal Moon from being taken? Where I’m from, people steal things all the time. Don’t y’all worry about that?”

Bassorine shook his head. “It would be a waste of someone’s moments to try. The Crystal Moon is protected by my power. No one can take it unless I release my hold on it.”

Sam raised his hand again and was encouraged to speak. “It looks as if someone has found a way to appropriate it. Your crystal is gone. It vanished just before you showed up.”

The god looked at Sam, and then took a moment to observe the area. A sense of realization appeared on Bassorine’s face as he started to fumble with the point of his chin while talking to himself.

This annoyed Sam. This is some god, he thought. Gods aren’t supposed to have a weakness. They’re supposed to be all-powerful and all-knowing. How could he not know it was gone. How could he have overlooked the fact that the base of his statue is missing? I mean, he just came from that spot. And he talks like a regular guy. What kind of god talks like a regular guy? An accent would be more believable. At least he would come across as esteemed.

Sam frowned. I’d be a better god. He looked in the direction of the missing statue. What an idiot! He looked at Bassorine. It’s best I stay calm. This guy would make me tap out if I don’t. That pisses me off.

Sam decided to take control of the conversation. “Okay, okay. It’s clear there’s something wrong here. Maybe you should let me dissect the situation. Maybe we could begin with a few pertinent questions?”

Bassorine agreed and motioned for Sam to continue.

Sam now believed his intellect was superior to that of this “so-called” god. “So … how did we get here?”

“Your wishes brought you here. This is your chance to have everything you wanted. You succeeded at discovering the statue’s meaning and how to awaken me. Otherwise, you would’ve been sent home. Now you shall stay and enjoy this world.”

Bassorine paused. “Lasidious was the one who retrieved you from your Earth.”

Shalee stood in silence as Sam reacted. “Okay, okay. Hold up. There are issues. First, what wishes are you talking about?”

“ You each made a wish. I’m sure you remember the requests you made on the last celebration you had honoring your births. You, Sam, wished to be given the chance to be the best warrior you could be and to make an impact on the lives of others while Shalee desired to escape her routine. She also wished for the power to make a difference in the lives of others and for an adventure. Your wishes were noble.”





Now, fellow soul ... Sam was floored. He thought back to his last birthday and remembered the wish he made as he blew out the candles. The problem was, he had no idea the memory of this supposed wish had been planted in his mind. It was a false memory.





“I remember the wish,” Sam responded. “But I wanted to be the best warrior in the world of mixed martial arts. I wanted to touch the lives of others through the fame I would gain. I wanted to help people my way … not be dragged into someone else’s idea of what I meant.”

Bassorine nodded. “What’s done is done. It was agreed upon by the Collective to bring you here. Your gods of Earth agreed as well. Ask your next question.”

Sam grit his teeth. This was heavy, a hard pill to swallow. How could he argue with a god, or was this guy truly an exalted being, considering his lack of knowledge of the day’s events? He could argue, but it was pointless to try. He could not overcome Bassorine in a confrontation, and he still needed to know more. For now, all he could do was continue to ask questions.

“Okay, okay. You said we would’ve been sent home if we were unable to summon you. So you must have released your hold on the Crystal Moon. We needed to touch it in order to complete the test, right? Maybe that’s how it was taken.”

Bassorine nodded in agreement and motioned for Sam to continue. “I’m sure you know I understand other languages. I’m also sure you know more about me than I care to guess. So my next question is … what about George? Why was he here? What happened to him when he fell through the floor with your statue?”

Bassorine looked puzzled. He stood in silence for a moment. “George? Who is this George? There should have only been two of you.”

Sam loved the fact he knew something else this “so-called” god did not. “The writing on the statue talked about a group of three who would be called upon to recover the missing pieces of the Crystal Moon. You know, the one about two men and a woman. The prophecy where one of the group’s members falls by the wayside, leaving it up to the remaining two to save the worlds and find a way to gather the pieces of the Crystal Moon before the worlds collide?”

Sam’s expression mocked his next statement. “The whole, ‘watch out for the spread of chaos’ part was on there as well.”

Ignoring his tone, Bassorine responded. “This test was for the amusement of the gods. We grow bored and seek diversions. When I created the prophecy for your greeting, it didn’t read the way you described. I wrote about one man and one woman creating an empire of good. You were to make a difference on the worlds. The Collective agreed and thought this to be a worthy cause … a good entertainment.”

Bassorine cleared his throat. “Sam, we hoped your knowledge and your skills as a warrior, along with Shalee’s goodness and power, would be a strong combination while creating an empire on this world. We further hoped the remaining worlds would follow in your footsteps, and the races would be rejoined. They would be allowed to live together on any world they choose.”

Sam started to speak, then stopped. He started again, then stopped.

Bassorine commanded, “Just speak.”

“Okay, okay. All right. I understand the power the crystal is said to possess. If the gods agreed you wanted us to create an empire, why implement a test in the first place? Why risk releasing your hold on it?”

Bassorine’s brows furrowed. “Not all the gods were in favor of this decision. We govern by majority. It was Lasidious, Yaloom, Mieonus, Alistar, Celestria and four others who felt a test should be implemented to see if you were clever enough to undertake such a task. Lasidious was the one who suggested I allow you to touch the Crystal Moon as a way to summon me. The idea didn’t seem risky. No harm was to come from it.

“I believe a trick has been played, and a game amongst the gods has begun. The prophecy has been rewritten without my knowledge. This is the only logical explanation. You have been caught in a play for power. A new plan is in order to stop the chaos that will ensue because of this deception.

“You’ll be more instrumental than ever while saving the worlds. It will rest on your shoulders to restore balance between good and evil.

“If the pieces are not returned, the planets will drift. This deception could be the beginning of the end of all we’ve created.”

“What on God’s green Earth are you talking about? What do you mean, we’ll need to do this?” Shalee inserted. “Who do you think you are, buddy? We didn’t ask for this. You said I have power. I don’t have any such thing. None of this makes sense. You’ve brought us here against our will ... against our will, I tell you! You don’t do things like that to Texans. We don’t take kindly to folks messing with us. I have a mind to put my foot right up your—”

Bassorine held up his hand and used his power to command Shalee’s silence. Tears began to flow down her face—not because her life was being forced into an unfamiliar situation, but more because the thought of Chanice popped into her head. Oh my goodness, my little sis. Who’ll take care of her? How can I keep my promise if I’m not there to keep her in line? What if her mama dies before I get back? She remembered her dream. Oh, my gosh, what if she’s already dead? All Shalee’s unspoken questions and more would go unanswered.

“Allow me a moment to think,” Bassorine demanded. He looked at Sam. “I believe this to be the handiwork of Lasidious. He’s a master of deception. He must know the location of the Crystal Moon. I’ll check with the others of the Collective to see if they have knowledge of his actions.”

Sam could not believe his ears. “You allowed a master of deception to talk you into letting us touch your crystal? Doesn’t that seem—?”

Bassorine gave Sam a look.

Knowing he was pushing the issue, Sam changed the subject. “So what about George? He fell through the floor with the base of your statue.”

Bassorine tapped the butt end of the staff he was holding against the front of his boot. “If Lasidious is behind this, he must have a reason for George being here. None of the others know of this mortal. I was not expecting Lasidious to place you on Grayham before the Peak. If I had known, none of this would have happened. Lasidious can be unpredictable. I was not anticipating a summons by the crystal until Late Bailem.”

Sam rolled his eyes at Shalee, careful to show only her his disgust of the situation and then responded. “If you didn’t expect us to be here until later ... assuming Late Bailem does mean later ... why did you release your hold on the Crystal Moon before this so-called Peak?”

Bassorine knew he had made a mistake, but he was not about to admit it. The god looked the fighter in the eyes. “Who are you to question me when determining the proper moment in which to do anything? I’ve listened to you make judgments, and I’ve had enough. I suggest you concentrate on fixing the problem, instead of badgering me. Do I make myself clear? I won’t allow a mortal to speak to me in this manner.”

Sam was dying inside. He wanted to tell Bassorine he was an idiot. Instead, he held his tongue. “I’m sorry.”

Shalee, now able to reclaim her speech, piped in. “Why not just kick this Lasidious guy’s behind? You can get the Crystal Moon back yourself while you’re at it. You should be fixin’ your own mess, not us. Fetch the base of your statue, and while you’re at it, put your little crystal back on it. That’s what you should be doing.”

Shalee continued. “I have obligations. This problem of yours doesn’t concern me. You said it yourself. You’re the God of War. Don’t you have the power? Are you weak or something?”

Bassorine remained patient. “It’s not that simple. Your misguided rant is a waste of my moments. Not all the gods choose a side.”

Shalee was about to rebut, but the god silenced her once more. “Some of us stay neutral in events of good and evil. We believe in free will. I’m the God of War, but I don’t determine the alliance that wins a confrontation.

“I love to battle, both hard and fierce, but I do not care who holds the balance of power. When the Collective came to me with this idea, I agreed only because of the entertainment it would provide. We’re gods, and if the worlds are destroyed, we have the power to create others. The Collective will view this struggle as a game. I prefer to think of the gods’ manipulations as an everlasting game of chess.

Bassorine pointed at Sam and then at Shalee. “You will be my pawns. The struggle for power shall not manifest in the form of a war amongst the Collective, but rather, war will manifest across the worlds. I’ll use you to keep as many of my chess pieces on the board as possible.”

“I’m not a chess piece,” Sam protested.

“Me neither,” Shalee added, moving closer to the fighter’s side. “I’m with him.”

Bassorine shook his head. “You are what I say you are. There will be no further conversation regarding this matter.”

“Free will. Yeah, right,” Sam grumbled. “What a joke.”

Shalee started to object, but Bassorine silenced them both with a wave of his hand. “The only reason I care is because a trick has been played, and my control over the Crystal Moon has been stolen. I would like the Crystal Moon back, but it is not essential I have it to exist. I shall simply play the game better than Lasidious. He’s the Mischievous One for a reason.”

Bassorine paused. “Now that I think about it, today’s events are amusing. Now more than ever, I don’t want the worlds destroyed. I also don’t want to stop these events from unfolding. I smell war on the horizon. This new struggle for power between the races will create glorious battles.”

Sam and Shalee were stunned. How could these “so-called” gods toy with worlds and each other? It took a moment for Sam to regain his composure.

Bassorine allowed him to speak.

“Okay, okay. So what about the gods who hate evil? Where are they? Won’t they put a stop to this insanity?”

“There are gods among us who want peace, love, and harmony, but not at the risk of a war between the members of the Collective. Also, there are gods who love chaos, hate, and fear, but not enough to fight for it. We want a simple existence, and we’ll be amused as the drama unfolds. That’s all.

“We allow each other to influence the beings living on the worlds, but we no longer fight one another to do it. If Lasidious is responsible for this, which I would wager he is, he did nothing more than use the greed or malice in the heart of a mortal to set these events in motion. The gods would not allow Lasidious to do anything more than influence the heart of one who is open to influence. This is the extent of how our power is to be used.”

Bassorine paused and rubbed the back of his neck. “Unless this George perished when he fell, Lasidious will not do anything to harm your friend. He will tempt and manipulate, but George will not be forced to do anything he does not choose.”

“Then we’re screwed if he’s alive!” Sam snapped as he threw his hands behind his head. “George isn’t our friend. He’s a jerk … the kind of guy no one likes. You should hear how he was talking. He’s going to be like putty in this Lasidious character’s hands.”

Bassorine walked over to Sam and put his hand on his shoulder. “Listen to me, young one,” he said in a soft voice. “You’re in for a great adventure. I have gifts the Collective agreed to give each of you before this chain of events began.”

Shalee allowed a half-hearted grin to appear at the thought of what kind of gift a god might bequeath. It has to be better than the best day of shopping … and if it’s not … what a stinking sham it is to be a stupid god. She shifted from one foot to the other in guarded anticipation of the potential greatness.

Bassorine pushed the staff in his hand forward to give it to Shalee, but before he let go, he explained. “This is a staff of sorcery. It is the only one of its kind throughout the worlds. Make no mistake, and do not judge it by its appearance. This object can wield as much power as its master can command. Other staffs exist, but no other of this caliber has been created. Once I let go, the staff will bond with you, and it will work for no other.

“But … I warn you. There is one complication when wielding this much power. If you wield it unwisely, before you’re ready, you can speed up the process in which you age. You could provoke an early death.

“However, there is also potential for longevity. If you handle the staff with intelligence, you’ll grow with it. If you command its power at a steady pace, you’ll extend your life thousands of seasons.”

Shalee trembled with excitement. She was happy about the gift and excited about the idea of living so long, but she was also scared to death. What if she used the power in the wrong way and as a consequence, aged faster? “Goodness-gracious,” she blurted. “I couldn’t accept having wrinkles at 23. That’s just wrong.”

The wood of the staff felt rough. “This is like déjà vu or something,” Shalee added. “I just know this is the same staff I’ve seen in my dreams. I think I’ve—”

“Hold on a second,” Sam said, cutting her off. “You’ve dreamt of this place, too? Why didn’t you say something earlier?”

Shalee rolled her eyes. “You’re not the only one who dreams, you know. I don’t know this place, but I’ve seen this stick.”

She turned her attention back to Bassorine. “This is kind of exciting. It’s kind of scary, too. Heavens ... how will I know if I’ve used too much power?” She pulled her arm back and clapped her hands. “I can’t believe I get to do something so unreal.” Shalee’s mind continued as she placed her hand back on the staff, Maybe I can bring Chanice and my family here once I know what to do with this thing.

Mosley chuckled at Shalee’s reaction and then spoke with an enthusiasm of his own. “Your instincts will guide you. You’ll know when you’ve extended beyond your abilities.” The wolf snorted. “You’ll learn to avoid tragic outcomes by trusting your senses. This will take many moments to master, and your flanks will be punished.

“The staff’s power is only as strong as your inner strength, so practice often. As you grow, the power will become a natural part of you. It’s an impressive tool if you ask me.”

The wolf lifted his back leg to scratch the back of his neck. “I’ve seen similar staffs, though as Bassorine said, this one is special. You should be honored.”

Shalee looked at Bassorine and placed her other hand on the staff. “I may not understand it all yet, but lay it on me, big guy. Let’s get started.” She released her left hand and extended it. “Gimme a high-five.”

With a puzzled look, Bassorine responded, “Why would I give you a lifted number, lovely one? How does this ‘high-five’ relate to the staff? Numbers need not be involved.”

Shalee dropped her hand. “Really? Are you serious?”

“I am always serious,” Bassorine responded. “It will be up to you to name your staff.” He let go of the object.

Instantly, Shalee’s fingers tightened around its shaft. She lost control of her body and lifted from the floor. As she rose into the air, the light filling the great hall faded. Her arms flung to either side, and her back arched, pushing her chest forward.

Sam stood in awe. He watched as the clouds painted on the ceiling came to life. They emerged from the art and took form before lowering and stopping above Shalee’s head. As the clouds hovered, they rumbled and extended a number of wispy arms toward her body. Moments later, they detached and began to spin. As a cyclone formed around Shalee, it filled the hall with a mighty wind.

As the anger in the clouds magnified, Bassorine shouted. “The fury of the storm is building! Get behind me!”

Mosley did as instructed, but Sam did not move. A clap of thunder filled the hall as a storm of lighting shot forth from the clouds.

Bassorine grabbed Sam and pulled him away from the spectacle as lightning struck the pillars and scorched the floor where Sam’s feet had been. After ensuring Sam was safe, Bassorine continued to shout. “The staff is bonding with her! The ritual will weaken her! She will be tired and need to sleep!”

Instead of responding, Sam rose onto his toes and peered over Bassorine’s shoulder until the fury of the storm subsided. Eventually, the lightning stopped and the cyclone vanished. The clouds returned to the ceiling as the hall once again filled with light.

As Shalee drifted toward the floor, Sam could see the scorch marks the lightning had left behind on her pajamas. They were ruined, and one of the bunny ears that had been attached to the slipper on her right foot fell to the floor and crumbled to ash.

Watching Shalee fall limp to the floor, Sam reacted. He rushed to her side and knelt. Her breathing was shallow. The doctor lifted her into his arms, cradled her head and then checked her neck for a pulse. It was faint.

“What the heck did you do to her?” Sam demanded.

Bassorine walked over and stood above them. “Worry not. She’ll recover.” The god turned and motioned to Mosley. “Take Sam’s place. Give Shalee a pillow to lie on.”

Sam allowed Shalee’s weight to transfer onto the wolf’s body, then he moved aside.

Mosley nuzzled Shalee’s head with his nose until it rested upon a softer part of his belly. “There, that should do.”

Sam stood and looked at Bassorine. “I don’t want your gift if that’s what I have to go through.”

Smiling, Bassorine removed the bow from his back and presented it to Sam. “Your gifts require a different form of bonding. This is the Bow of Accuracy. There is none with its ability on any other world. With this weapon, you can strike down your enemies from great distances. The enemy must be seen by your eyes. The bow will not miss if used for a just cause. It will only respond to a master with a good heart, and it will not allow a dark spirit to pull its string. Its quiver of arrows will never empty. You may pull from it forever.”

The god unbuckled the sheath holding the sword and handed it to Sam. “This is the Sword of Truth and Might. It is also one of a kind. The sword possesses the ability to search for truth when used upon your enemies. Place the blade on your foe’s shoulder, ask it for the answer you seek, and it will be given unto you.”

Sam’s face lit up. “Okay, okay. So you’re saying the sword will weed through the lies, and the bow will let me hit any enemy as long as I can see it and use it with good intentions?”

“Yes and no,” Bassorine responded. “Just because you possess the sword, doesn’t mean you have the ability to wield it. The sword will only work once it feels you have earned its respect. It lives and has a mind of its own. You have much to learn, and a short period of moments in which to gain this knowledge. You do not want the blade failing you in battle. Your bow, however, is not so fickle.”

Bassorine knelt next to the sleeping Shalee. “Mosley, take them to Brandor. I shall come to you once I know more of the Crystal Moon’s location.”

The God of War looked at Sam. “I cannot make Lasidious do anything against his will. I can only hope he sees fit to provide the clues needed to play a fair game. I shall return.”

With that, Bassorine disappeared, and a new statue appeared in place of the old, minus the Crystal Moon.





Mosley, Night Terror Wolf





Mosley looked up at his likeness and grinned as a wolf would. “I must admit, I look good up there.”

Sam smiled and then bent down to rub Shalee’s arms. “I have so many questions. I suppose they’ll have to wait until Bassorine returns.” He looked at Mosley. “Do you think we should get going as soon as she wakes?”

“I do,” Mosley replied. He sniffed Shalee’s hair. “Mmmm, berries. Perhaps we can talk along the way. I may have the answers to many of your questions.”

These questions were still on Sam’s mind: Why did he feel like he had met Bassorine before? Why did he understand the markings on the base of the statue? Why did the laugh of the red-eyed announcer with the razor-sharp teeth seem familiar? Why was Shalee dreaming about her staff? And, finally, how much of what they had been told was crap?

The genius wanted and needed clarification, or his mind would never slow down. He could only wonder how long it would be before he could ask the questions necessary to gain resolution.

Well, fellow soul ... as you can see,

there is much to learn as I move forward with the

telling of the Worlds of the Crystal Moon.

So what are you waiting for? Keep reading!