Road To Shandara (Book One of The Safanarion Order) (3 page)

BOOK: Road To Shandara (Book One of The Safanarion Order)
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The corners of the professor’s mouth rose in the slightest, forming a smirk and he had a glint to his eyes. “Ah yes, you’re my philosophizer, very good. I am always curious about what people think of that quote. Indeed if you’re lucky. Anyway what can I do for you.”

Aaron told him about his grandfather’s passing and that he wouldn’t be able to take the final exam tomorrow. The professor nodded and conveyed his condolences to him and his family. Aaron liked that about Dr. Kozak, some professors had an embedded disdain for anyone’s lives but their own, but Dr. Kozak was a kind hearted individual.

“It’s certainly not going to adversely affect your grade if you do not take the final. Not for you at least. My goal the entire semester is to get you students to think about things, not be so concerned about grades. The question I had proposed for the final is not far off from the quote you just analyzed for me, which I am happy to say you’ve hit it dead on. I had hoped you would consider majoring in sociology, but knowing that you are about to graduate I see I’m too late to recruit you.” He said rising and extended his hand.

Aaron shook the professor’s hand and thanked him.

“Have a good summer,” Aaron said before leaving the office and the professor wished him the same.

On his way down the hall Aaron took a quick detour to the bathroom. While washing his hands a sinking feeling of wrongness washed over him, like ice water pouring down his back.
 

Rap! Rap! Rap!

Echoed from down the hall. He yanked the door open peering into an empty hallway. The fluorescent lights went out plunging him into darkness. The sunlight oozed its way into the entrance down at the far end of the hall, but all was eerily quiet. The emergency exit sign cast its devilishly red glow onto the far side of the hallway. A sudden chill crept down his spine like tiny spiders crawling up his back.

What the hell was that?

The medallion grew cool in his pocket. A nefarious presence came rushing towards him and he spun around, but the hallway was empty. He was all alone.

Aaron lengthened his steps down the hallway, looking all around him knowing something was there, but only hearing the echo of his footsteps. The thought of calling out came to him, but he dismissed it as borderline stupidity. He was just being paranoid, he thought
.

Aaron smirked at the thought trying in vain to dismiss the sinking feeling, but was compelled to turn around and look back the way he had come. He peered into the darkened hallway but to no avail. Nothing was there. Then something knocked him backwards off his feet. He rolled and was instantly up again, his heart pounding. He scanned about looking to see who was there, but was frustrated by darkness. Another blow blindsided him and he went down. He tasted blood in his mouth while he shook his head bracing himself. He scanned out with his other senses, but couldn’t detect anybody there with him. In fact he sensed nothing, as if this place was devoid of life. Then he felt it, the force gathering itself, preparing to strike. Aaron barely got out of the way in time as the blow meant for him shattered the glass display case.

He turned and sprinted down the hallway all the while hearing the sounds of glass shattering behind him. He reached the end gasping for breath in the sunlight and felt the evil presence leave. The lights came back on mockingly, revealing a mess of shattered glass as people filled the hallway from all the noise. He ducked out of sight heading down the stairs, but he could have sworn that he heard an ominous cackle right before the lights came back on.

Aaron’s pace quickened as he exited the building and noticed the Campus Police rushing towards the building.

What the hell was that?
 

He absently rubbed his chest where he took the brunt of the blow while taking the medallion out of his pocket. He ran his fingertips over the carved relief of the dragon holding a rose. Behind the dragon with his wings proudly spread apart was the impression of a tree. On the flip side were two swords, like the ones his grandfather left him, over a white pearl center, which resembled a star. The inscription was barely discernible and what he could make out he couldn’t read.

The medallion was cool now, but he knew that it reacted to whatever it was back there. Was this what his grandfather’s letter warned him about? …
One day soon you will discover that your life is nothing like you thought it would be… The training that I have provided will aid you in reaping the benefits of your coming gifts…And will help you stay alive.

How could he face an enemy that he could neither see nor touch? But he saw it when he mastered his fear and closed his eyes to see. He was able to do it with clarity that had not been there before. Looking overhead, he saw a hawk flying gracefully, circling to and fro. He followed the hawk’s movements, its slight change in its wings to keep riding along the wind. And then he saw it, just a spark at first, but as he focused he could see the impression of the life force of the hawk shining brilliantly.

The world faded to gray as he and the hawk became one beating heart. Aaron felt the freedom that came from riding on the wind. The hawk sensed him and dived down hard only to elegantly land on the roll bar of his Jeep looking at him intently. Aaron allowed the hawk to see him by freeing the life force within, revealing the pure awe and respect he had for it. The world of cars, cell phones, and even buildings diminished, allowing nature to shine vibrantly. The world around him jumped into focus. The trees were greener and more lush. The rolling hills of grass and gardens on the college campus shone more brightly basking in the sun. He felt the energy given off by the trees eagerly willing to share with all those around them, but the people who walked among them were gray and closed off, oblivious to the rich world around them. Aaron’s gaze wandered all over taking it all in before returning his gaze to the hawk. Then the hawk let out a cry and took flight.

Aaron withdrew and his unique view of the world returned to normal, but now he could sense hints of what was so vibrant before. Climbing into his Jeep he noticed a thin leather cord and he looped it through the eyehole on the medallion and tied it around his neck, tucking it inside his shirt. His hands still shook from his encounter with whatever had been in the school. He decided to head back to his grandfathers house.

***

Tara waved to him standing on the lowest rail on the fence while watching the grazing horses. Her long auburn hair spilt gracefully down her back. Her large brown eyes and tanned skin allowed for many admirers, but her heart belonged to Alex. A multitude of opportunities for love shadowed Tara for most of her life, but it was Alex who captured her heart. She intoxicated those around her with her sharp wit and humor. But today, Aaron could tell by her demeanor that she was as grievous as he was even though Reymius wasn’t her true grandfather. His half-sister was four years his senior and remembered precious little of her own mother. Carlowen helped to fill that gap for her when she married their father Patrick.

“What’s going on?” He asked.

She turned and inspected him briefly, “What happened to you?” She asked.

Since they were kids she always knew when something had happened to him and he could never figure out how. Should he tell her what just happened?
Oh yeah a ghost attacked me at school today and I have a medallion that seems to be an early warning device.
That made a lot of sense. Then he remembered from his wild ride last night that he had some scratches along his face and arms.

“Nothing much,” he lied. “I kinda don’t know what to do with myself.”

“Yeah I know the feeling. Don’t want to be here like this, but I don’t want to go anywhere else either,” she surmised. “Bronwyn came by. She had heard about Grandpa.”

“Well that was nice of her,” he said coolly.

“I thought so,” Tara said until she noticed him glowering. “Oh come on Aaron she’s a nice girl. You can’t stay mad at her forever.”

“We’re not all as lucky as you are in love Tara,” he answered.

Tara stepped down from the rail and looked up at him in such a way that made him feel small and foolish. “One thing you will have to learn dear brother is that sometimes people make mistakes. No one is perfect. Not even you. Forgiveness may not come easily, but when love is involved wouldn’t you want a second chance.”

He clenched his teeth without realizing it and sighed, “I wouldn’t have betrayed her,” he said stubbornly.

“Be that as it may. You need to make a choice,” she paused until he looked her in the eyes. “Did it ever occur to you that the reason this tears you up inside is because you still care for her? Those feelings can’t be turned on and off like a light switch.”

“Yeah…” He began but Tara cut him off.

“Look, I’m not condoning what she did, but you should at least talk to her and hear what she has to say. Then maybe you can move on.”

Brother and sister faced each other, both unwavering.

“Maybe.” Was all he would say and Tara rolled her eyes muttering about the stubbornness of men.

The rest of the day was filled with mindless tasks just to keep busy while the time went by. His parents were busy making arrangements for the funeral tomorrow. Aaron made a bold attempt of getting through the day without concentrating on anything in particular and busied himself with the horses. When his mind did start to wander it kept going back to the same unanswered questions. What was happening to him? Try as he might to go about a normal day he kept a state of constant alertness lest he be caught off guard again.

Often his thoughts strayed to the swords. He opened the white cloth sack to look at them and feel them in his hands, which gave him a small measure of reassurance. His grandfather referred to them as
Falcons
in the letter. He couldn’t determine what type of metal they were made from. As an engineering student with a focus in mechanics and materials science, this perplexed him. Certainly not steel as they were much too light. They were strong and each time he held the swords they felt more at home in his hands, which both comforted and scared him. After all why would he need swords?

The day drained away to night and Aaron finally returned home to pass out in his own bed. Near his bedside was the white bundle that held the Falcons. The medallion he left on. Zeus was asleep on a blanket that he pulled off Aaron’s bed claiming it for himself.

Dreams plagued his nighttime slumber. One moment he was back in the wooded clearing standing completely alone in the shifty moonlight that danced with the clouds. Next he stood upon a ledge surrounded by mists that cleared revealing mountains as far as he could see. He gazed at the mountains with a longing in his heart, but he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to find. Last he dreamt of a long dark corridor. The corridor opened to a circular room with two doors on the far end. A hooded figure stood directly in his path. In the dark the hooded figure could have easily been mistaken for a statue, but Aaron knew better. Coldness crept its way through his veins and sapped the heat from him. He felt the same way when the life drained from his grandfather in his dying moment. The presence of death filled the room and it was a cold and lonely feeling at best.

 
The hooded figure uncrossed his arms and raised his head challengingly as if daring Aaron to see inside the hood. His breath quickened and his pulse raced as he stood frozen, unwilling to move. Behind him was emptiness and the arrogant stance of the figure in front him set his teeth on edge. His fear began to retreat as anger began to spark. Everything from the way the figure dominated Aaron’s path to the way he appeared to be looking down at him, Aaron hated. The figure projected it’s utter discontent for him who dared to stand before it and dominated the space before the doors. He had to get to the doors. They meant something significant, but he didn’t know what. Aaron swallowed and took a bold step closer. He heard the whirling of the air and a giant twin mooned battle-axe demolished the ground before his feet. Aaron stood his ground looking grimly forward. He knew he was being weighed and measured. He made his move and he would not step back. The figure sensed this and brought the great axe up and held it ready to strike. Everything stopped and Aaron felt himself being tugged away.

He woke up sweaty and disoriented. He could feel the medallion warming on his skin. He sat up in his bed and despite the sweat, he shivered.

C
HAPTER
4

DAY TO MOURN

THE MORNING TRICKLED away while Aaron’s family prepared for the funeral. The whole idea of a church ceremony for his grandfather annoyed him, after all, his grandfather was not a member of any church that Aaron could remember. They never talked about it. He thought he should have known something like that about his grandfather and he was beginning to wonder about how much he didn’t know about the man. An image of the Falcons flashed in his mind and the echoes of the bladesong emanated within him. He glanced over at them safely tucked away next to his bed. He wasn’t ready for them yet, but their calling whispered to him.
I can’t exactly walk around with them strapped to my waist.
He left his room and went down to the kitchen to get something to eat.

“Good morning," his father greeted when he rounded the corner to the kitchen.

“Hey," Aaron said. The idea about how absurd this whole funeral thing still whittled away at him. “Dad, do you think this is right, what we’re doing?” He asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Grandpa wasn’t even a Christian. I just don’t think it’s right." He paused gathering his thoughts, “It seems to go against who he was.”

Setting down his cup of coffee his father looked up, eyeing him with pursed lips before answering. “Funerals are for the living son as well as the dead,” he said softly. “The dead have already departed. Their souls are now free. Funerals give people a way to channel their grief for a time, allowing them to whisper their goodbyes, remembrances, and for family to be together." He took another sip of his coffee before continuing. “I know it’s hard and if you truly feel that this is not right then you do not have be there. However, I would like for you to come.”

BOOK: Road To Shandara (Book One of The Safanarion Order)
9.73Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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