SIBUN: Emily Bankston - Chapter One

One

 

 

BATON ROUGE, LA.

 

            Karen Bankston kept checking her watch. What was supposed to have been a routine visit had turned into an additional two hours of tests and waiting on the doctor. No wonder people were called patients and not referred to as clients or customers. One had to be patient just to go to the doctor these days, and the old cliché “the customer is always right” seldom (if ever) held true. Did physicians really not realize another person’s time was just as valuable as theirs? Apparently, they did not. 

            Karen looked down at her watch again, irritated with the idea that she should have been home nearly an hour ago. She just hoped the girls were doing okay. This was her first time to leave them home alone. Maybe that was why she felt so anxious. She wanted to call, but it was posted not to use one’s cell phone in the rooms. If the assistant would hurry up, she would be able to checkout and leave.

            Just then, Karen heard a tap at the door. About time, she wanted to mutter aloud, though she thought better against it. It was not the young girl’s fault. Although, Karen did wonder how the poor girl handled the doctor’s apparent careless approach to punctuality. Maybe it was something one had to get used to in the medical field: Everyone catering to the smart, rich doctors. Karen bet doctors would sing a different tune if they were the patient. She took pleasure in knowing they would eventually get theirs. Everyone got sick; everyone got old. One could not be his or her own physician forever.

            “Hi, Mrs. Bankston. Sorry for your wait.”

            “That’s okay,” Karen lied.

            “The results for your lab work all came back fine. The doctor wants you to continue to take your meds as prescribed, and he’ll see you again in six months.” The assistant handed Karen a piece of paper. “Please take this to the checkout desk around the corner, and you can go ahead and schedule your next visit if you would like, Mrs. Bankston.”

            Finally, Karen thought, but managed to vocal a heartfelt “Thank you” instead. 

            Making her way to the checkout counter, Karen considered scheduling her appointment seven or even eight months out, just to make the doctor wait for her next time. Hump! She mumbled under her breath. Then again, she realized that would be impossible, because the doctor would only give her six months of refills and would not renew her medicines unless she came back as prescribed. 

            Irritation crawled through her body. Karen tried to rationalize it. She had not eaten breakfast or lunch (due to her tests), her girls were alone, the doctor had taken forever, and now she would be getting home late and have to cook with a splitting headache. Karen wondered if men ever even contemplated how difficult it was to be a mother, with the needs and wants of their husband and children constantly draining them. Whoever claimed being a stay-at-home mom was not a real job needed to try it for a few months.

            On her way out, the flash on the television caught her attention. Karen turned to face the screen just in time to read the caption:

 

MISSING PERSONS ALERT: 

Rachel Ellis of Denham Springs, Louisiana. 

Rachel is eight years old, has blonde hair and blue eyes. She is 4 ft. tall and weighs about 50 lbs. She was last seen at her home in Pine Lake. If you have any information regarding the whereabouts of Rachel Ellis, please contact the local police at…

            Karen could not believe it! How had she missed this report? Pine Lake was not that far from where she lived. Jennifer and Emily were home, alone, right now. Karen could not get out of the doctor’s office fast enough. She ran to her car as quickly as she could, pulling out her keys and tossing her purse to the passenger seat. The seatbelt would not cooperate, so she dismissed it with a grunt. Turning on the car and putting it in reverse, Karen found she had to wait on an elderly couple walking across the parking lot. The gentleman used a cane and his wife a walker, so they were none too fast. 

            “Move it already!” Karen shouted. Thankfully, she was inside her vehicle with the windows up. 

            The couple smiled and waved at her. Karen only gave them a despised look, so the couple quickly turned away and kept walking. No doubt they would talk about her during their two-hour wait for the doctor, Karen imagined.

 

※※※

 

            Finally able to get onto the road, Karen reached for her phone, only to be startled by the annoying seatbelt alarm. “Shut up already,” she shouted. It obeyed. 

Karen retrieved her phone from her purse and tried calling home a couple of times with no answer. It did not take much for the panic to consume her. This was the first time she had left her girls home alone, and now they were not picking up the phone. 

            The previous attempts by her daughters to stay alone played out in Karen’s mind. Jennifer often complained about being treated like a baby, arguing that she was old enough to stay home. Karen had repeatedly rejected the idea on multiple occasions. However, Jennifer and others kept saying that a fourteen-year-old girl was mature enough to trust at home; especially, since they lived in a nice neighborhood with no crime. At least none reported or that they knew about. 

            Today Karen had anticipated only being gone a few hours to her appointment, so she reluctantly left Jennifer and Emily at home while she went. She had not expected it to turn into four long hours. In her mind, it was a compromise. A way to ease into allowing her oldest daughter a little more responsibility, without giving herself a heart attack or nervous breakdown in the process. Karen regretted giving in, when all the while she knew better than to leave the girls by themselves.

            Karen still could not reach the girls, so she called her husband. 

 

※※※

 

            Trevor saw his wife’s name appear on the ID. “Hey, I’m about to go…”

            Karen did not wait for him to finish. “They won’t answer the phone, Trevor, they won’t answer the phone!”

            Trevor was confused. “Who? Who won’t answer the phone?” He had a meeting to go to. He did not have time for his wife’s emotional breakdown.

            “The girls,” Karen shouted, as if Trevor were stupid for even asking such a question. Who else would she be talking about? “I’ve tried calling four or five times, and they won’t answer.”

            Trevor could hear the panic in his wife’s voice, but the disrespect she often relayed frustrated him. He wanted to just hang up or shout back at her, but it would only make it worse. He thought about saying “Calm down” but that too would likely send her into orbit.

            “They probably went outside.” There was silence on the line, so Trevor continued. “You know they like to play together on the swings, pick flowers, and any number of things for hours in the backyard.”

            “But they were supposed to stay inside until I got home.”

            He could sense his wife calming, but only slightly. “Well, maybe they figured they could play outside and come back in before you got home, or hurry inside when they heard you drive up. You know how kids are.” 

            Karen acknowledged it was possible, but she did not really believe it. It sounded more like Trevor did not really care, and she was just wasting her breath being on the phone with him. She figured her time would be better spent trying to call the girls. They would be in for a serious spanking when she got home, and most likely be grounded for a good while also.

            Trevor, on the other hand, was not really surprised the girls had not answered the phone. Although, honestly, he was more focused on his aggravation of having to attend a last-minute meeting he did not really want to go to. He figured when Karen got home, she would fuss at Jennifer and Emily for not answering her calls and for going out back instead of staying inside, and it would all be over by the time he got there. He would be a little late due to the last-minute meeting anyway.

 

※※※

 

            When Karen finally reached her neighborhood and turned down Maple Street, she counted every house as she passed by them. As she neared 125 Maple Street, fear—no something much worse—gripped her soul, trying to strangle the very life from her as she saw the front door. It was open. Open! There was no reason for the entrance to their house to be wide open with only her two young daughters home alone. 

            Her chest heaved. She found it difficult to breathe. Karen wanted to jump out and run to the door before she could even finish pulling the car into the driveway. Slamming on the brakes just before plowing into the house, she could not park fast enough. Thankful she was not bound by the uncooperative seatbelt, Karen burst from the car without turning off the engine. Her frantic mind did not even register the hitting of her elbow on the car door.

Likewise, the possibility of intruders being inside the home never crossed her mind. All Karen cared about was finding her babies. She rushed through the door, frantically calling their names and looking everywhere. She felt lightheaded and weak. She pushed through it into every room, searching first in Jennifer’s and then in Emily’s. They were not in their rooms, the bathrooms, living room or kitchen. 

Running to the backdoor, Karen pulled the extra key that hung on the nail near the door, since her keys were still in the ignition of her running car and not in her hand. Its presence was evidence that the girls had not been playing in the backyard, but it did not stop Karen from forcing her way outside. She fought with the backdoor deadbolt, unable to steady her hand enough to put in the key. She cursed her husband for not having already replaced the lock like he had said he would for years. 

The door was against her—everything was against her—trying to keep her from her babies. “Jennifer! Emily!” Karen screamed repeatedly without ceasing. The news flash of the missing eight-year-old girl she had seen while leaving the doctor’s office haunted her mind. Oh, dear God, please not my babies!

Trevor! I need to call Trevor. That was all Karen could process at the moment. She could not even remember Trevor’s cell or work number. Cell phone. Where is my cell phone? She had left it in the car. 

Karen rushed back out of the house. Seeing her purse still sitting in the passenger seat, she stretched over the driver seat, grabbed it, and pulled it to her as if there was someone on the other end trying to steal it. Digging around for the phone, her purse acted as though it did not want to release it. She could not find it. Where was it?

Frustration was gaining full control over the whole situation. Karen’s hands shook, more so than she could ever remember—although, at the present, she was not remembering very much of anything. The only thing she cared about was finding her daughters. 

Looking down, Karen realized her phone was sitting in the seat. She then recalled that she had been trying to call the girls and must have put it on the seat instead of back into her purse. It had apparently slid under her purse, which was why she had not immediately seen it.

Karen picked up the phone, called Trevor’s cell and listened impatiently to the ringing in her ear. Pick up! Pick up!

“Hi, you’ve reached Trevor Bankston. Leave a message and I’ll hopefully return your call sooner rather than later.”

“Pick up the phone,” she shouted. Do you even care that our girls are missing? If you really cared you’d answer your phone! She hung up and tried three more times.

Maybe she should not have had such thoughts, given there was no way for Trevor to have known the girls were missing and not simply outside as he had suspected, but her emotions were pushed to the max—way past their limits. She needed comfort, reassurance, hope, and there was no one around to give it.

SIBUN: Emily Bankston (Book 2) - Chapter One

One

Jonas Hackle rushed into Jared’s office shouting “Let’s go!” while hitting his fellow agent on the back of the shoulder. Caught off guard by the flamboyant abruption, Jared’s hand instinctively reached for his gun as he twisted around in his chair. Seeing Hackle, he paused before drawing out his 9mm. Just a few more seconds and you’d of had a round to your face, stupid, Jared cursed to himself.

Unable to read Jared’s thoughts, Hackle continued. “We’ve got chatter about a possible assassination attempt on Senator Swanson. They want our team on site and in place at the capitol before the senator arrives to give her speech,” Hackle shared as he exited the room just as quickly as he had entered.

Jared stared blankly, momentarily dazed with the swift, unexpected interruption. Like a Jack Russell terrier startling its owner just before darting off into the street to chase a passing car, Hackle was gone in a flash, not sticking around to wait for Jared’s reply. Though he clearly expected Jared to follow. 

Grasping for some similitude of clarity, Jared locked his computer system, grabbed his bag, and rushed to catch up. Jared wondered if he would ever get used to Hackle’s hyperness—if that was even a real word. Forget ADD or ADHD, Jared figured the guy was seriously sniffing high-sugar-concentrate, red Kool-Aid mix. He was always wired up with way too much energy.

※※※

Kimberly Swanson was a right-wing spitfire. She held no punches and had more than a few enemies, both politically and personally. She was Pro-Life, Pro-Gun, and despised by the left. Her firm views did not always mesh with even her own supporters, and nearly all she stood for infuriated those who opposed her. She was outspoken and direct, despising flattery and wishy-washy politics. 

Her security detail had warned her about the possible attempt on her life, but she merely stated, “I will not allow those who devise evil to control me. My life is in God’s hands, and he’ll take me home when he’s good and ready.”

※※※

Texas Capitol, Austin, TX.

Charlie Rivers was the Special Agent in Charge. A veteran of more than forty years with the bureau, his grey hair and worn face gave proof to his time and experience. Though it was his hard stature and stern look that demanded respect, both from seasoned vets and new recruits alike. There was never any doubt that Rivers hated excuses and expected the best out of everyone.

“Alright. Gather ‘round guys,” Rivers started, caring little about whether or not any of the female agents found his statement politically correct. “There’s been chatter of a possible assassination attempt on the life of Senator Swanson today. Her security detail has been made aware of the situation, but it appears that the senator is dead set—pardon the pun—on giving her speech anyway,” he said with a faint smirk, accompanied by a stare that clearly dared anyone to laugh. 

“Our job is to ensure that the senator leaves this scene just as healthy as she arrived. If any harm comes to her, it will mar your personal record—but, more importantly, it will stain the bureau,” Rivers warned. “That isn’t going to happen on my watch,” he reinforced with his raspy voice.

“Alpha Team, you’ll set up snipers here, here, and here,” Rivers barked as he pointed out the positions on the screen with the aerial view of the vicinity. “Murray, Seymour, and Foulks, you’ll accompany Parker, Johnson, and Turner as their spotters,” he declared, pointing to each of them as he said their names. 

“It’s imperative that you six watch this entire area with God-like eyes and be ready to take out a target at a moment’s notice with God-like precision. You are our eyes in the skies. 

“There is no room for error. We’ve got to have the Omega3 Factor within the confines of this operation. You make a mistake, somebody’s gonna pay for it. It might be the senator, it might be a teammate, it might be a civilian, or it might be you—but if you make a mistake and you’re the one still standing, you’ll have me to deal with.”

Everyone knew what Rivers meant by Omega3. It was not the fatty acid supplement that could be found in stores. Omega stood for the Alpha and Omega, the God of Heaven, with 3 being a reference to his three-character traits: omniscient, all knowing; omnipresent, everywhere present; and omnipotent, all powerful. God did not make mistakes, humans did. In the end, God always prevailed, just as they needed to today.

The God-talk irritated Jared. Though he was not completely sure why it did, he questioned within himself whether or not it was really necessary. Jared reasoned that he had grown up religious and he did not feel the need to always invoke God’s name into everything. Not even in cursing, what little he did.

Jared wondered if Rivers was truly a religious man, or if he used such lingo purely for emphasis. Maybe the old-timer was merely a hypocrite like most of the other Jesus Freaks out there. Jared had never asked. Honestly, he had never really cared to know. Rivers did not come across as an individual too keen on talking about his personal life and Jared was not eager to share his. So, Jared supposed he was no better. The realization helped curb the annoyance. Then it completely vanished when his superior’s gaze turned toward him.

“Bravo Team,” Rivers called out, pausing to ensure they were all looking at him. “Brache. Thompson. Raymond. Latimore. Cummings. Hackle. Your mission is equally essential. You boys will have direct eyesight on the ground: upfront and personal contact. It is imperative—I can’t stress it enough—that you likewise embrace the Omega3 doctrine of combat. Your directive is to mingle within the crowd, looking for anything or anyone suspicious. You must out-think, out-wit, and out-maneuver any possible threat. You’ve got to move like the Spirit…”

Yeah, like the Holy Spirit, Jared mumbled to himself, finishing the words of Rivers. Though he could not help but borrow a few words from Mohamed Ali: Float like a butterfly, boys, and sting the assailant like a bee, Jared laughed to himself. Maybe he would use that as his “doctrine of combat” if he were ever the Special Agent in Charge.

“Omega3, boys, Omega3,” Rivers spouted, ready to dismiss the teams. “Alpha Team take your positions. Bravo Team get changed into your civvies and get set to sporadically infiltrate the crowd. Move out.”

※※※

Jared made his way toward the staging building to change. He could hear Rivers direct his attention to Charlie Team, the comm unit. Jared was sure Jade Lawson was biting her tongue nearly in two, as he paused a moment before entering to hear Rivers address the coed team as “guys” yet again. Closing the door blocked out the chatter, but the thought still resonated in the smirk across Jared’s face.

Kristietiba - Chapter One

Treason 1

The night fog was thick and blinding, almost suffocating. Dampness filled the air, carried by the wild breeze, cherishing its last breath granted by the recent storm. Humidity caused everything to feel sticky, with a most irritable mood. It was a darkness to be avoided, for such an hour was given to mischief and the things most unbecoming of a noble.

Rasul lay resting in his bed of oak, with golden plated rods protruding upward from the floor at the four corners, draped overhead by a scarlet canopy with gold trimming and tassels. With droopy eyes, he rubbed his lightly graying brown beard, while laying his head on the soft fluffy pillow. The satin sheets gave him solemn comfort, as he awaited the return of his wife.

Memories filled Rasul’s mind, as he dozed in and out of shallow sleep. Thoughts of his young bride and her delicate features vibrantly raced before him. Her faintly pinkish lips held such a heartfelt smile, with eyes of green which sparkled in the moon light. He loved to run his fingers through her silky black hair, while holding her tightly next to his heart. He missed her soft breath and gentle voice beside him.

Suddenly, a loud pounding pulled Rasul from his dream, as the door to the bedchamber broke open. Men, dressed in shinny armor the color of night, swarmed the room like shadows. Swords drawn upon him, Rasul forced his mind to grasp reality. His breath was short and shallow, surprised to be surrounded by armed soldiers. Questions of how and why quickly faded to the rear of his mind, while concern for his love sprang forth as a dagger within him.

Rasul tried to lift himself from his bed, but was held down by two of the men who bound him. A dark figure swiftly moved behind the soldiers and caught his glance. The face of a ghost, deathly grey, gazed upon him. Rasul tried to fight his bonds, but could not against the strength of the men. Neither could he scream for the guards, for his vocal chords refused to give sound.

With beady eyes, the hunched back figure peered into the face of Rasul. Studying each other both refused to blink. The men looked wild-eyed and blood thirsty, while the cloaked individual appeared sadistically in charge of them. Rasul was frustrated that he could not move, and was unable to yell to his guards. He thought it odd his men were not already there at his room, and feared the worst for his wife.

“My dear Rasul, oh how you have found yourself in such a predicament,” the dark figure hissed, pointing his boney finger toward Rasul.

Rasul tried to speak, but could not.

The figure waved his hand over Rasul’s face, and Rasul could sense the movement in his vocal chords return.

“Who are you, and what do you want?”

“Do you not recognize me, Rasul?”

All of a sudden, the assailant’s image changed from the ghostly bones to the form of a younger fellow. Rasul’s eyes widen, it could not be. It was now the young Maldinat who stood before him, but how was such possible? Rasul’s mind found itself fighting against such trickery. One could not be the other, nor the other the one. Maldinat was to be his most vigilant trust, to one day take the place of his high guard, in such a weary time. Hope…like the wilting of a rose which has lost its source of nourishment…faded from Rasul’s essence.

“Before you taste what lieth at death’s door Rasul, I want you to know that all you have has been taken from you this day. Tonight you shall be stripped of your kingdom, for it shall be given unto the mighty Apostas, new ruler of Varjama. He shall take your wife Tanar unto himself, and claim your new born child his own heir. Your mighty and faithful knights have chosen to follow rather than die.

“I would offer you the same choice, but we both know that the new king cannot truly rule well while the old king yet liveth. Do not linger long at trying to understand how such has come about, dear Rasul. The light dwelleth with light and the darkness with darkness, till the time cometh when the shadows of the darkness overcome the light by gradual persistence, layer by layer, point by point, precept upon precept, while the light does sit prideful in its glory. The light must bow to the darkness, just as the day must give way to the night.”

Tears pressed against the edges of Rasul’s eyes, but refused to escape down his cheeks. His heart groaned within his chest, while his muscles did tense and push against the soldiers’ holds upon him. Rasul’s face reddened with anger and determination to free himself to slay such a devil before him. Irritation did tingle throughout his body, driving him insane. He wanted to scream. He wanted to scream out to Tanar, his love, and to his new born child, having yet to see her, being born this very night.

“I have waited so long to witness the torments I now see in your eyes Rasul. Oh the pain and sorrow you must feel, knowing all is lost to you this night, and there is nothing you may do about it.

“Tonight is the end of an era Rasul. Tonight is the beginning of something much more powerful. Tonight you shall taste death, and tomorrow we shall taste new life.”

Maldinat slid his darkened dagger slowly through the ribs of Rasul, as if to linger his suffering unto death. The cold blade sliced through Rasul’s flesh, penetrating deep into his broken heart. Rasul gasped as he momentarily tensed, then released all resistance. His lips moved as though he were trying to speak.

Maldinat lowered his ear near Rasul’s mouth. He could feel his dry breath. At first, it was too quiet. Maldinat could not understand Rasul’s words. But then…faintly…he could hear them almost crystal clear.

“May God send the high prince of Himmel… the son of King Allmachtig… the mighty King Salvare… to save these people…” Rasul struggled for breath. “An unworthy servant have I been.”

Maldinat’s face twisted with fury. Such defiance in his moment of triumph was most distasteful. Maldinat drove his dragger deeper, with anger and malice, till Rasul’s life flowed freely from him. Tanar drifted slowly off Rasul’s lips, as his mind grew dark and his eyes glazed over in death.

§ § § §

Criada held delicately the first born daughter of Rasul and Tanar. The maid softly cleaned the little one with a damp warm cloth. She smiled at the child, thinking how beautiful new life was to behold. The babe’s light eyebrows and crystal blue eyes, rosy cheeks and long eyelashes made her so adorable. Criada hoped to have one of her own one day, but as a servant she knew her future may not hold such happiness.

“Criada, come help me child!” cried Parteira, the mid-wife. Parteira worked diligently to keep Tanar calm and breathing correctly, as she prepared to help deliver a second child. “I need your help over here, so place the baby in the bassinet,” she expressed hurriedly.

“Yes ‘em Parteira,” Criada submitted, as she gave the babe another smiling glance, before moving over to lay her down and return to Tanar.

“Please let me see her Criada,” Tanar whispered between contractions. “Please let me see my precious daughter.”

Criada brought the babe near Tanar. The child was now clean, wrapped in fine white linen. Her eyes were open so wide, as she looked around the room. Her little fingers interlaced with each other, while she gazed at her mother. Her tender face beamed, with a crooked grin.

“Oh, my precious Kristietiba,” Tanar smiled through her pain, gently touching her child’s cheek.

Tanar so longed to hold both her children near her heart. She could suffer the pain just a little while longer, for it would be worth it all in that moment of sweet embrace. She, her love Rasul, and their inheritances from heaven all together, oh what a marvelous day to behold.

“Ahhh…” Tanar jerked in pain, gritting her teeth and closing her eyes tightly, while grasping at her belly.

“Breathe my lady, breathe,” Parteira encouraged Tanar.

Criada rushed over to place the babe in the bassinet, returning quickly. Criada stood by Tanar’s side, caressing her hand and patting her forehead with a fresh damp cloth. Tanar was still exhausted from the birth of her first child, but would need to endure yet a little while longer for her second. She laid her head back on her pillow, for just a moment of relief, though she felt something was oddly different. It was like a peace, a disappearing of the pain, a loss of consciousness.

Suddenly, Criada noticed Tanar’s breathing weakened, while her fingers loosened within hers and went limp. She glanced at Tanar’s closing eyes, and noticed how pale she seemed. Criada twisted to face Parteira, with shock on her face. Parteira, stunned by the amount of blood which now covered the sheets, slowly returned a blank stare. Both knew such was not good, and Parteira knew she must rush to save the child.

Surprisingly, the door blew open abruptly. Parteira and Criada both jerked to see who would enter. Both knew that Rasul would not disturb them during the time of his children’s birth, and did know he had made declaration that the room was to be off limits to any and all persons but those of Parteira’s choosing. So, who was it that did barge in upon them in such a delicate hour?

A young man, dressed in a long beige tunic, overlain with a brown cloak, entered. He shut the door behind him, and faced the women.

“Fear not dear Parteira and Criada, for I have come in the name of Salvare.”

Although they somewhat knew the name he spoke, it did not comfort their anxious spirits. It did not explain his reason for being there, and already they were in panic as to the wellbeing of Tanar and her second child not yet born.

“You have broken into the room of Tanar, wife of King Rasul, have you gone mad?” Parteira questioned. “Get out! Get out! You are not permitted to be here! Do you not see that my lady is in the middle of childbirth?”

“My name is Ziener, seer of the mighty Salvare. I have been sent here this day to protect the child known as Kristietiba. The darkness is upon this place, and the workers of iniquity do now come to take heir to the throne. She must not be given unto them, nor shall they be allowed to take her.”

“Sir, you must leave, my lady is sick and the baby is not yet born,” declared Criada. She prayed the man would not notice the child in the bassinet, that the babe would remain silent.

Ziener moved close to Tanar, but was filled with restlessness. He placed his hand upon her brow and closed his eyes. The ladies watched him. His lips moved, but they heard no voice. Ziener could feel her life quickly leaving her, and sensed the child still within her womb. He pulled his hand back from her forehead, and turned to face them.

“If I do not let her go in peace, she will be slain by those men who come to take the babe already born. The daughter, yet within her womb, is not the one I seek.”

Shocked filled Parteira and Criada, leaving them to consider what they should do. No, you are crazy! They wanted to shout. Tanar would soon die, bleeding the way she was. So too would the child, if she could not deliver soon. And this crazy drunkard was already pronouncing her dead, desired to take the king’s child, while claiming the kingdom itself was under attack. What were they to do?

Just then, the child whimpered. Ziener turned toward her. There in the bassinet where Criada had laid her, smiling with her tender eyes, seemingly pointing at him. Ziener’s face lit up, as he went to her.

“The blessed Kristietiba,” he stared and whispered, reaching down to pull her to himself. “Oh my precious child, may the God of heaven grant you safety this night.”

As the ladies were about to move toward Ziener, the door to the room was forced open once more. Ziener drew the babe close to his chest, and twisted away from those who entered. Maldinat’s face expressed surprise to see the man before him. Everything was happening so fast, the ladies merely froze in place near Tanar.

Softly, as if all other sounds vanished away, they could hear a still small voice within their minds.

You must not tell them of Kristietiba, for this night have they come for her as they have for the whole realm of Varjama. Your king Rasul has been slain, and your queen Tanar does now fade away. Varjama shall be cast into dark times, for its lasciviousness and discontentment.But keep hope, for your time of struggle will not be more than you can endure. Salvare shall send you witnesses and comforters of himself, and shall one day come to set you free.You shall see her again when the time of reconciliation is at hand.“Seize him!” Maldinat shouted to his men, to grab hold of Ziener.

They rushed toward him, but the seer was no more. He had vanished.

Angered by Ziener’s disappearance, Maldinat turned to the mid-wife. “Tend to the birth of the heir to Varjama woman, and mind not the business of men!”

Parteira shuttered and tried to focus her attention back on Tanar. Criada slowly made her way by Tanar’s side, glancing at Maldinat and his men through the corner of her gaze. There was so much blood loss now, a tear escaped Parteira’s tender eyes. Criada continued to pat Tanar’s brow with a damp cloth, and Parteira worked to bring forth the child.

Much had transpired so quickly, the minds of the servants were constricted with what to do. Were they to believe the words of the man who called himself Ziener, or trust the entrance of Maldinat with his soldiers? The queen lay there dying, while Maldinat did not even appear to care, and the unknown man who called himself a seer of Salvare had just taken the king’s first born. Parteira and Criada met each other’s sights; their hearts did agree to keep what they knew a secret, for the sake of their own lives as well.

“You two,” Maldinat called out, pointing to two of his servants. “Stand guard here and watch. Bring me the child upon its birth, and deliver the mother to the flames of MuAlah. May she burn in torment with the fallen king, and their remembrance be no more.”

Parteira and Criada’s hearts pounded heavy with such words, but would not dare look upon Maldinat. They found themselves barely breathing, not wanting to do anything to draw his attention. They had grown to love the sweet, friendly company of Tanar, and it grieved their souls to hear one speak so ill of her. An acknowledgement of that which the seer had spoken to be reality, namely the fall of Varjama and her rulers, made their stomachs twist sickly.

Andeis - Chapter One

Andeis (Goth, end): The end of Erde cometh, and the destruction of all that

is evil, but for those who give allegiance to King Salvare, there shall be no 

end, for New Erde awaits.

Erde: Book Three

(included in complete saga)

The Light Cometh Forth

Among the Darkness arriseth yet a great light surrounded by ten thousand lesser lights among the horizon. Their glow doth increase as they come forth from the east near Geheim. Truly, as King Salvare foretold, has not this night come forth the Daegsteorra, whereby ‘shall the daystar rise high above the darkness’.

§ Onward To Temeto §

Vikadore (called by the seer Ashvar, Ignitus) and Menindas, the pale (who once was named Rayhold) travel toward Temeto. They go to confront Jagare concerning their troubles in Trachten, where many lives of the Gottlos have been lost and the prisoners once held there have been freed.

It was Ashvar who did call forth from heaven a ring of fire which did slay hundreds of Vikadore’s Gottlos army which stood before him. Tebad, Kayla’s father, had come forth to Trachten with both men and women who had chosen not to flee to Geheim, but did fight to free the souls in bondage to the Darkness throughout Erde. Labat did find his way to Trachten, with his tribe of twelve Beacons sent forth by the Witnesses of King Salvare from Geheim. Umil and his tribe arrived also from the south, as they all met in Trachten, and did defeat the remaining Gottlos which chose not to flee. As did the Witnesses, Hukum and Prerok confront yet Jagare in Temeto, whereby they were slain and left in the streets.

As Vikadore and Menindas rode toward Temeto, they saw the lights break forth from the horizon from toward the Cadas Mountains. Though lights, they knew it is neither the sun, moon, or the stars, for the night had just come upon Erde. Terror arising within their being, for they knew not whence the lights come, mixed with yet their frightened spirits for what Jagare may say as to their confrontation with the seer and other souls in Palvolin, Trachten.

Alarm did move them both to persist to Temeto with great speed and necessity, for they too had heard the claims that King Salvare would one day return to Erde, though they denied belief in such things. For both from the heart and outwardly did Vikadore and Menindas hate such things as King Salvare, his Book of Wisdom, his Sealed, and all that stood against the Darkness, but deep within their being they yet feared such things as well.

§ Temeto §

Within Temeto was Jagare awakened by the lights which shown forth into the windows of what was once known as Kirche. Oh, how much so did Jagare despise the light, as he preferred rather the darkness of Oscuridad with its fog which forever came forth from the Shadow Lands.

The roar of Rubicund, the Dragon which sleeps neither day nor night, pulled Jagare forth from his bed, along with the heks, Gottlos, and prisoners held in Temeto.

Jagare came unto the window, whereby he often stood to speak unto his servants, to see Rubicund standing tall with his fierce lips curled exposing his massive, clinched teeth. Jagare turned to that which the Dragon did snarl.

It was the lights, the one greater and ten thousand lesser, to which Rubicund did rile up all who dwelt in Temeto. His screeches did cause the hair upon the necks of all to rise, and sent forth terror deep within their beings as to the cause of such actions from a mighty beast as he.

Some of the hearts of the Erdians who Jagare held prisoners did warm, though a little, praying that such was a sign that King Salvare did yet approach. Though most had not previously believed, and such is why they had not followed the Sealed to Geheim upon the time of the Ekleipsis, they still prayed that such a one would come to free them from the Wicked One.

§ Geheim §

A great man stood before the watchmen of Geheim. Upon a white stallion he sits, dressed in garments of pure white, layered in gold, for such was his armor he wore. Upon his side did he bare a mighty two-edged sword, which was quick and powerful, able to divide both the joints and marrow even unto the very soul and spirit of men. His hair was yet white as wool full of wisdom and knowledge. His eyes were as purifying flames, a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart. His feet were as brass, to bring forth judgment upon the wicked. His voice came forth as powerful and mighty sound of many waters, as one full of authority.

“Children of Erde, beckon unto my voice, thy King. Have not I, King Salvare of Erde, come to free you from the Darkness whereby the Wicked One and his marked servants have oppressed you these many days?”

The army which stood before the watchmen of Geheim was great, more so than any eye had ever seen. The dwarfs Paktil and Qwen did marvel at the sight, for there was not a doubt within the hearts of the souls of the watchmen to whom this man was.

This was indeed King Salvare, and he has returned to battle the Darkness which shadows itself over the land of Erde.

Daegsteorra - Chapter One

Daegsteorra (Old English, the day star): The Ekleipsis cometh but for a moment, then shall the daystar yet arise above the Darkness.

Erde: Book Two
(included in complete saga)

Dark Depravity

The Ekleipsis has brought forth death and tribulation more so than anything the souls of Erde could have ever imagined. The death records of the Dark Ages have far since been out numbered in mere months, since the night of the eclipse. Since the cry of Rubicund, the Dragon, upon the announcement of Jagare, the Darkness has not slept. It continues to go forth as a roaring lion, devouring the weak, the confounded, the faithless; all those who would not adhere to the call of wisdom to flee to Geheim.

On the night of the eclipse, Jagare sent forth his army across the land of Erde, to the sound of the heksƒ. This band of wickedness, which lay dormant in Erde for many years, was released to fulfill their lusts upon every living creature not subservient to Jagare. Led by Vikadore, along with the eight remaining Gibborims (Jagare’s brothers, minus the slain Desgosto and Abejoti), the Gottlos swept across the land leaving no village unharmed. The Ubils followed among the shadows, infiltrating the minds of the frightened and lost.

Their total depravity was displayed in their slaughter of young children, their unnatural lusts and abuse toward women, and their inhumane acts toward the elderly and men of the villages. Unmentionable acts brought forth by vile affections, unseemly works, most horrendous atrocities were committed, and continue throughout Erde.

Moving across the land, these murderous beasts divided into bands. Baitrs and Pyktis moved their armies toward Kirche, in Signum, crumbling Xiacon along the way. Begeren and Ahnews marched through the higher regions of Erde, while Gniew and Hatan swept across the midlands, leaving Himo and Zolba to comb the south east portions. Vikadore remained in Trachten with Jagare as well as six hundred sixty-six Gottlos. With so much sorrow, the Erdians’ƒ tears began to run dry, but their blood did not.

Ekleipsis - Chapter One

Ekleipsis (Greek, eclipse): Judarius claimed that darkness would one day overcome and destroy all light. The name of that day, he called thus.

Erde: Book One
(included in complete saga)

To Begin At a Moment
It is a cold, stormy night in the midst of a small village, one seemingly lost from the world among the mountains and valleys of a nameless place, full of forgotten souls. Howling winds blow wildly through the large trees that surround the village, protecting it like a great wall around a castle. The streets are empty of souls, where only debris flies effortlessly on the breath of the night. Hoping for a brighter tomorrow, families snuggle in bed resisting the fear that creeps among the shadows waiting to gain entrance into the mind that dares to embrace it.

These storms seem to come forth from the mountains most unaware to the people below. Sometimes ceasing as quickly as they had come, other times lingering well for hours without losing strength. Attacking with the force of a mighty army, the bitter winds slice through the thickest clothing, chapping faces, and reddening exposed flesh. The heavens send forth hardened crystals upon all caught beneath the clouds, often simply melting away into the sodden paths.

Through the gloom, a small home near the edge of the village remains alive, entertaining the dancing of lantern lights and the patter of footsteps. Why tonight? Why must it be during a time of such disarray? A small, elderly lady with silver- laced hair flowing to her waist paces the floor running to and fro, ministering to a young girl slightly above her teens

Dear God, I pray that you show compassion. Hear the frail attempt of your child to call upon such a mighty God to request such a selfish thing as this. Lend your ear to my pleading and see what is right in your own eyes. Thou hast given Sorie life and have been gracious to spring forth life from within her womb. Shall she carry such a love only to perish at its coming? Do as thou see fit, but remember compassion. In thee will I trust to do that which is right.

Sorie is due any minute with delivery, yet boiling with fever she feels her life slipping ever so slowly away. Her brown hair, tangled and glued to her face with beads of sweat, hides well the beauty she possesses. Hardly able to hold her eyes open, fading in and out of consciousness, there is but one thought which grips the entire essence of her being: How is my baby?

For the last nine months she could think of nothing else than the soul which has grown within her. She caressed her stomach often and longed to see the face of her child. As those which she knew would speak of their own, her lightly tanned face would glow as her brown eyes sparkled with eagerness of what was to come. She delighted in the stories of others, and hoped to the uttermost that she would be a good mother to such a lovely gift.