《A Triangle without Corners》


 Prologue

    As he sat on the rock, alone, looking over the ravaged countryside, he could not help but notice the ache in his right hand, like the ache of one¡¯s jaw chewing a mouthful of overcooked meat. His brow glistened with sweat as a prize fighter between rounds, his face smeared with the wet earth of the ground beneath his feet. The armor, while scuffed, appeared to be no worse for the wear, despite relentless use. How could it have come to this? How could a world designed to be perfect erupt into such eternity-altering chaos? Now that it was over, how did they move forward? He did not know, and quite thankfully, it was not his burden to carry, though he did wonder what his role would now be. Naturally, as one of the first, he knew the proper manner of things, but knowing and seeing to their arrangement were two very different propositions. Knowing the proper manner of things may have made sense in the recent past, but now it felt like attempting to rebuild a tower with half the foundation stones no longer present. Certainly the tower could be rebuilt, but it could never be the same. He knew this. They knew this.


    His mind shifted back to the now dull ache in his hand. His sword, the ancient of all ancient blades, now sheathed on his left hip, had felt as if it were going to become an embodied extension of his hand. The fighting had been fierce, as relentless as a rushing river in springtime as the snow melts away. His warriors had fought with the tenaciousness of a symphony orchestra, always on key, always on time, never missing a note. There had certainly been no room for error. Even with a battle so eloquently fought, the toll had been high. How is one to process the death of immortal beings? No, there was no way to even process such loss. When he considered the proper manner of things, this most certainly did not fit, anywhere.


    One of the younger warriors approached him. The look on his face, a collision between ecstasy and devastation, told him all he needed to know. The war had been won, at a price more unimaginable than the sun failing to rise. The inquiring face and soul-searching depths of the young warrior''s eyes asked far more questions than respect would ever allow to be asked out loud. In many ways he wanted to ask himself these very same questions, and yet, out of that same respect, he dare not ask himself. Oh, there certainly would be a time, but now was not it. In a world that operated outside of time, where eternity was time, it suddenly became difficult, no, exhausting, to attempt to piece together the recent events, let alone provide any meaningful guidance or orders to the young warrior. The young warrior seemed unsure how to even be in his presence. Until this time, no immortal being had ever been slain, and now the young warrior was staring at one of the very slayers. Sure, there had been conflicts in the generations of old, but this, this was different. He felt pity for the young warrior, but the mental exhaustion prevented him from easing the awkwardness. He knew outside of the inner cadre few knew the intimate details of the recent days. Certainly they knew eternal violence had occurred. Certainly they had heard rumors of betrayal and hubris, oh yes, hubris far greater than could have been imagined.If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    Lost in his own thoughts, forgetting the presence of the young warrior, his mind drifted to thoughts of the beginning. No, not the beginning of this war, nor even the events leading to the war, but the very beginning. Yes, as one of the first, he remembered a far different time, a time when the first of the Malakh were spoken. There had been only twelve then, twelve, and he who spoke of course. Of the twelve, there had been two. Certainly the twelve had been magnificent, but not equal to the two. The two had led the twelve in all manners of things. This was a different time, a time when bravery, wisdom, and integrity superseded all, and the twelve being synonymous with these words embodied them like a snake to shrewdness or a lion with courage. Not only was he one of the twelve, but yes, he was of the two. He had long been the guardian of the twelve, of the Malakh, and of the spoken.


    His attention snapped back to the present like a door caught in a gust of wind, halting on the frame as fast as the rush had started. He stared at the young warrior once more, pity swelling in his heart. The young warrior had only heard stories of these times of old, and after this war, these times would only be pushed further into the past like sediment in a rushing river. Levying the necessary fortitude to engage the young warrior, their eyes met, and he remarked, ¡°Not exactly what we anticipated, huh?¡± The young warrior, startled as a deer caught unaware of it¡¯s surroundings, stammered, providing a listless response to the question. Much like the deer, the young warrior failed to produce a response. He chuckled like a grandfather, musing at his grandchildren over his spectacles. The young warrior, undoubtedly expecting an elegant statement worthy of the twelve, found himself speechless, at the nonchalant question. As he once again found himself staring out over the battlefield he began laughing harder. Not a joyful laugh, nor sinister. A laugh of fatigue, a laugh of regret, a laugh of gratitude. How could these all be contained in a single emotion?


    The young warrior, having found his voice, stammered, ¡°No sir, it was not. What do we do now?¡± What a profoundly elegant question, albeit a predictable one. Certainly the young warrior was seeking guidance to fulfill his role on the hallowed ground before them. Little did he know, he was asking a far deeper question than he or any of the other twelve would have an answer for.


    What should they do now?

 In Principio

    The stars in the night¡¯s sky were mesmerizing swirls like the Van Gogh painting. Picturesque scenery blurred as the strokes of a brush due to the faint moonlight, periodically tainted by the instruments and participants of war around them. The smell of old burning wood and the crackle of embers from the nearby fires filled the senses. There would be no war tonight, nor tomorrow for that matter, but it was most certainly approaching. His eyes methodically moved from the stars to the equally mesmerizing fires. Lost in thought, the man felt the pang of anxiety in his stomach as one approached the peak of a roller coaster before the descent. Kai was not old but his mind carried the weight of more experiences than many lifetimes combined. The sorrow his heart carried was far beyond anything any man should have to bear, and yet it seemed it had become commonplace. He slowly walked towards one of the nearby fires, peculiarly occupied by only one man, the rest being completely surrounded by soldiers. Kai had always been a naturally curious person, with an innate ability to detect things that did not seem to be in their proper place. This seemed to be one of those moments.


    He sat on the cool earth across the fire from the man. As he looked at the man sitting across from him and he felt oddly comforted, not a comfort in the finer details of future events but comfort in the final result. Kai did not even know him and yet a meek calmness seemed to radiate from him. Kai found himself staring at the man. His large hood was drawn over his face obscuring his facial features, and his brown, wool-blend cloak hung loosely over an obviously muscular stature. The hilt of a sword protruded slightly from the cloak, an odd weapon in a world full of far more modern weaponry, yet the ravages of war had created certain pockets where older weaponry was not unheard of. In the flickering firelight it appeared the man may have some type of armor on, though Kai could not be certain, and more interestingly if it was, it did not appear to be any type of body armor he had ever seen. He was taller than any man he had met but not quite so tall that he would be thought of as a ¡°giant¡±, since there was obviously no such thing.


    Kai struggled with the uncomfortable emotion of deciding whether or not to interact with the man or to leave him to his thoughts, as one might struggle with their toes on the edge of a cold pool, courage rising and falling with the ripples of the water. At last, Kai rode the peak of a ripple and introduced himself to the cloaked man stating, ¡°Hello, the name¡¯s Kai.¡± The cloaked man slowly, yet deliberately looked up, and removed his hood. The face beneath was the face of a 30 something year-old man, contemplation radiating from his gaze, with piercing blue eyes that seemed to see far more than the tangible physical form in front of him. His brown hair pulled into a tight ponytail behind his head spoke of one devout to some type of sacred, ancient art. The man¡¯s searching eyes, full of gentleness, yet pain, inquiry and yet understanding, met Kai¡¯s gaze. Nodding, he responded, ¡°They call me Mik.¡± Kai responded, ¡°It¡¯s a pleasure Mik, how long you been involved?¡±


    Mik peered thoughtfully as a loving grandfather might at a young grandson. After a pause long enough to make him shift his weight in an awkward, self-conscious motion, while causing him to divert his eyes back towards the fire, the man identified as Mik responded, ¡°Always.¡± As the man responded, Kai could not help but feel as if this man already knew him, as if this man somehow knew far more about Kai than Kai knew of him. The man was a complete stranger, so this was obviously not possible, but, what was this feeling then? He could not help notice the man had the incredibly mild yet confident demeanor only a truly dangerous man was capable of possessing. The man radiated calm, yet observant, and even more so, terribly dangerous. Kai hadn¡¯t met many men like this, yet the ones he had met, always carried themselves the same. A true gunfighter from the Wild West type, or a tactical operator, capable of the highest level of violence, yet far more capable of controlling it. Kai¡¯s mind, as a vacuum rolling over a piece of cereal left on the ground, sucked back to the present. Confused by the answer, however, understanding the war had certainly felt terribly long, Kai asked Mik to clarify what he meant by ¡°always¡±, to which Mik, as if speaking to nobody in particular, responded, ¡°Since the beginning.¡±


    Kai, taken aback, having only watched the beginning of the war on television, wondered out loud what being part of the war for so long had been like. While there was no way of truly knowing the actual date the war began, most estimated it to be in its seventh year. The things Mik must have seen, the things Mik must have been forced to do. If true, Kai was humbled to even be speaking with this man. In that loving grandfather way, he began chuckling, and Mik replied he had been part of the war for a period far longer than seven years. Catching the man¡¯s emphasis on the, Kai asked for clarification. Perhaps Mik had been a soldier for longer and was alluding to involvement in wars for a longer period of time, though his appearance seemed to indicate he could not be much older than 30 or 35 years old. Perhaps he had been part of a resistance or some other facet of the ¡°war before the war¡± as so many called it. Either way, the pressure building in Kai¡¯s internal human barometer was detecting there was far more to this storm than the brown cloak and contemplative gaze. Mik, reading Kai¡¯s heart-sleeve emotions, stated, ¡°There is far more to the war than what meets the eyes or finds itself printed in intelligence briefs.¡±


    Kai felt certain something was definitely different about Mik, and though Kai had participated in this war a long time, he had always felt the causes of the war ran much deeper than what was shared with the people. While Kai had always been suspicious of the true motives of the war, he needed to suppress that thought, as he had a more pressing thought in his mind. He could not help but feel like Mik was referencing something completely outside of the conversation, or even the current war they were both a part of. A part of him wondered if this stranger could offer or would be willing to offer clarity to these feelings. Sensing his patience or perhaps having a moment of boldness, Kai asked Mik if he would be willing to share his story as opposed to Kai trying to decipher Mik¡¯s cryptic responses. Stroking his beard with his index finger and thumb, Mik, again peered thoughtfully at him. After a length of stare capable of making a mirror envious, Mik agreed, the corners of his mouth curling upward as he did. There was that smirk or smile again. Mik¡¯s body language was a display of a well-seasoned poker player, refusing to divulge feeling or true emotion, while leaving the observer agonizing over the last emotion they may or may not have seen. Kai¡¯s normally natural talent of reading a person felt as if not only could it not find the correct direction, but there was not even a magnet in the compass.Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    Truly intrigued by this strange man, Kai was unsure where to begin. Did he ask how many men he had killed, no that was far to direct, and likely would be considered rude. How about what secret missions he had been part of, no, he likely wouldn¡¯t share, and may even shut down. How about what he thought the war was truly about, maybe, but doubtful. Perhaps, what memories replayed the most in his mind? On second thought, maybe he should ask how old he was, where he was from, and if he had a family. While each question had a certain element of value, none seemed to satisfy the child-like curiosity brewing in his mind. Kai, as a fan having the opportunity to ask one question to their favorite celebrity and certainly not wanting to ask the wrong question, settled on, ¡°If longer than seven years, how long exactly have you been part of the war?¡±


    Mik, clearly bemused, responded this was a very good question, though it was not a tale that could be spoken in a matter of hours. He advised if Kai was that interested and was willing to listen, he would perhaps be willing to share. After the response, while Kai could not be certain, he could have sworn he heard him say under his breath, ¡°The time has come.¡± Kai asked if Mik had said something. Mik ignored the question, or maybe didn¡¯t even notice the question and asked, ¡°If I am to share the whole tale, I would present one request. Would you share your story with me?¡± This was certainly an odd request, and not entirely sure what, if anything, Mik would find of interest in his story, Kai agreed. It was somewhat confusing why a man claiming to have participated in the war for so long would have any interest in Kai, yet it seemed a small price to pay to hear this peculiar man¡¯s story. While Mik certainly appeared relatively young, his demeanor forced Kai to envision an ancient Greek philosopher, thoughtful while ensuring intentionality.


    Mik, peacefully staring up towards the brilliant masterpiece painted across the night sky, fingers stroking his beard, suddenly formal, eloquently stated, ¡°Let it be so Kai, son of the earth, let us share our stories.¡±


    As the two men quietly gazed into the fire, one lost in his own thoughts, one formulating thoughts for dialogue, the silence was broken by Mik, ¡°When we, the Twelve, were spoken, we did not begin as an infant, as your people do, nor an egg like some of your animals. We were spoken to the very form you see seated before you. We were the original twelve, the Malakh. While Malakh do not require sleep, the feeling would best be described as the mental fog when awakening from a deep sleep. We found ourselves standing before a being and a man we later learned was his son. They do have names, however, your language does not allow for it, and without understanding the true power of names, you could not comprehend it. Perhaps another time we could discuss this, but for now, we shall not as this is an entirely different topic. For the sake of the tale, let us call him Speaker.¡±


    Perplexed, possibly slightly amused, it was now Kai with the corners of his lips curling upward. Mik had intrigued him, oh, he had even momentarily captivated him, but whatever Mik had just said was a poorly rehearsed story, or the word vomit of an unstable person. Mik¡¯s piercing blue eyes met Kai¡¯s. As Mik had already proven multiple times, he did not feel any measure of self-consciousness or awkwardness in prolonged eye contact or silence. Kai, being the first to blink in the staring contest, thanked Mik for the wildly fascinating open to a story, but expressed no desire to hear anything fictitious, embellished, or outright false. Mik, seeing the disbelief in Kai¡¯s face and irritation in his voice, not only appeared not bothered, but almost seemed expectant of the reaction. Mik stated, ¡°You asked how long I had been part of this war. The war transcends any conflict we may be witness to at this moment. In order to understand the war, you must understand the origin and proper manner of things.¡±


    Kai, seeing Mik did not feel any of this was a joke, nor did he seem surprised by Kai¡¯s initial reaction, now felt the walls of curiosity and logic closing in on each other. Mik, ever so perceptive, seeing the internal struggle and rationalizing the disbelief Kai was battling, slowly pulled down his brown cloak at the neckline to reveal a piece of armor beneath the cloak. The armor, while undoubtedly solid, appeared to be, well, almost alive, but this certainly couldn¡¯t be. It wasn¡¯t metal, leather, or gemstone. It was not any type of ballistic armor, soft or hard, that Kai had ever seen. The material was in many ways translucent; however, was also a pale electrifying blue. Was it merely reflecting light, or was the material itself actually moving? Were Kai¡¯s eyes playing tricks on him as a stranded wanderer and a desert oasis? Was this armor simply reflecting the firelight, or did it possess some type of life-source itself?


    As a rising sun peaks over a mountain ridge in the distance, a symbol of some type was just beginning to peek over the neckline of the pulled down cloak. Only a small portion of the symbol could be seen but it was not painted, stamped or even carved. It was as if the symbol hovered within the plate. What was the symbol? Without seeing more of it, there was no way for Kai to determine if he had seen anything like it, and regardless, he most certainly had never seen armor of such unique elegance. This armor did not provide clarity to Mik¡¯s statement, if anything it cast further doubt, however, Kai now had many very real questions. For more than a century there had been rumors of other-worldly technologies utilized by special forces from various countries, however, they always ended up proven to be developed by some top secret government organization. This armor, at least the brief glimpse Kai had, certainly seemed intriguing, dare he say, suspicious.


    Kai looked into the other man¡¯s eyes and couldn¡¯t help but feel a measure of sincerity in them. As always, Mik eloquently allowed for time to process. Kai finally, very hesitantly responded, ¡°Ok Mik, you began telling me what sounded like an origin story out of an ancient mythology textbook, then showed me armor that appears to have a life of its own, and now I only have more questions. If you come from some ancient bloodline, or have some other mythological story of beginning, how about you start with why you are here?¡± Mik, ever patient, gave a soft smile, and told Kai this would be far easier to explain after he told his story, not before. Kai was filled with so many doubts, but after glimpsing that armor, he knew Mik had him, and knew there was no possibility he could walk away. Kai, knowing his soul had come to the conclusion even before his mind had, agreed to listen to Mik. Kai said he would do his best to not interrupt, but he had so many questions, so he could not make any promises. Mik said that was a sufficient promise and he would do his best to clarify as much as he could, but many parts of the story would not make sense until the end. Mik stated, ¡°For now Kai, let me share with you the tale from the beginning.¡±

 Origins

    ¡°We, the Twelve, found ourselves in an open meadow of lush, green blades of grass, surrounded by deep green pines. The role of a wall was played so eloquently by the thickness of the trees. Light shone on the meadow as a spotlight on a stage, with flecks of metallic shimmering dust daintily floating in the air, creating a near rainbow-esque reflection. A bowl-like, light gray, rock formation lay at the center of the meadow. The rock emitted a faint, almost imperceivable aura, so faint, when staring at it, your mind could not decide if it was actually present. A brilliant, shimmering liquid was pooled in the rock, moving unlike any liquid here in your land, almost as if it had life of its own, darting and dashing in places while slowly swirling in others. It is difficult to describe these first moments, as in many ways we were as a newborn baby in your land, while in other ways possessing the full faculties of an adult. We Malakh are not all knowing, though when spoken, we do possess higher levels of knowledge than your people.


    As confusing as this all sounds, I assure you we were far more confused, and I hope in time, as I grew to understand, you will as well. Speaker and his son, whom I would later learn were always patient and never wasted a word, observed all twelve of us in what appeared to be humble adoration. Though we did not know it, we were to this point, his greatest work. Power, creativity, knowledge, and honor so eloquently, so precisely woven into one, though his truly greatest intricacy would not become known for some time. We did not need to learn a language as we were spoken already understanding the language of the land.¡± Seeing the perplexed look on Kai¡¯s face, Mik stated, ¡°You need to remember though your people are born infants, with no knowledge, this was not always the proper manner of things. In time it will make more sense, but suffice to say my appearance and ability to speak are the same now as they were in that moment.¡±


    Mik continued, ¡°The twelve of us, while we later learned we were immediately capable of communication and already possessing some small levels of knowledge, did not possess any prior interactions with each other or with Speaker to establish any order or hierarchy. As a child who just switched schools entering the cafeteria, there was an unknown status, rank, or value structure amongst all those in the meadow, creating a slightly awkward first few moments. I suppose this period of unknown could have been when everything started, the more I have thought about it, this is likely when it all started. For that brief period of time, it felt as though we were all equal, including Speaker. Whether it was through the natural ebbs and flows as a river finds its way to the sea, or it was simply the proper manner of things, this unknown hierarchical status did not remain in place long.


    It is a peculiar thing to not exist one moment, and to suddenly exist the next. While your people being born with little to no faculties outside of thirst and hunger presents plenty of complications, suddenly existing with the ability to communicate and care for yourself presents an almost more complicated situation. It creates a unique moment in which no external influences have manipulated one¡¯s responses, ¡°nature versus nurture¡±, as your people like to call it, at its most extreme. When you have nothing with which to base your mannerisms, demeanor, or actions, nothing to manipulate or construe your responses, you get a truly untarnished view of a person''s natural, innate personality. All this said, several of the twelve, the far more cautious, found themselves clustered together, tense as gladiators standing back to back in the arena, an almost natural response to pursue the sense of security they innately longed for. None of the Malakh know fear in the way many of your people do. It is not to say they don¡¯t fear, but rather it is an entirely different perspective and one that will make far more sense in time. Several of the more thoughtful or contemplative of the twelve remained separated from the group in quiet observation, I initially being one of them. The remaining few, the naturally bold, postured in a way to present what you would likely call a perceived lack of fear. We were all what you would describe as male, though there was no counterpart to a male at the time of the speaking. What you describe as females were certainly spoken but not until later.


    Mik addressed Kai directly asking, ¡°Do you have memories in your mind from when you were a child, you aren¡¯t quite certain the context, but you have a fairly vivid memory of you being in a specific place, or perhaps doing a specific thing?¡±


    Kai silently nodded. Mik continued, ¡°That moment will be forever burned into my mind. These men would become my dearest companions, and I to them, not necessarily due to a particular friendship with any of them, but more the common bond a military unit experiences due to a shared mission. As I observed the other eleven, no words having been spoken between any of us yet, one in particular stood out. Perhaps due to his physical stature being above the average of the twelve, perhaps his piercing green eyes, or obsidian black hair, or perhaps it was his bold demeanor, to step forward when everyone else seemed uncertain at best. He would become my dearest friend, my brother, and we would become the inner circle.¡±


    Mik gazed into the fire, clearly deep in thought or perhaps reminiscing about a bygone time. Kai, likewise trudging through the depths of his own mind, felt as if Mik was drawing on the energy, the very lifeforce of the fire itself with his gaze. Certainly Kai¡¯s mind must be playing tricks. There is most certainly no way the fire actually faded as Mik¡¯s eyes grew brighter. There is no way Mik¡¯s armor beneath his cloak cast that radiant glow out of the top near his neckline as he continued to stare into the fire. As a mirage to a lost desert wanderer, Kai¡¯s mind must be succumbing to the fatigue of the later hour. That said, Kai could not help but wonder who this man was. Mik, slowly looked up, and the fire began to glow bright again. Kai¡¯s eyes must be fatigued. That was it.


    Following the silent, thoughtful pause, Mik continued, ¡°His name was App. Like Speaker, he does of course possess a real name, a name for another time. As the others soaked in their surroundings, App seemed as if he had already assessed both the nature and beings in his presence, and had determined Speaker to be the alpha. While App did not show any signs of concern or fear of those around him, he did continuously monitor me out of the corner of his eye. To this day, I¡¯ll never know if he perceived me as an equal, a threat, or a nuisance in that moment, and he would never admit to even noticing me.


    App approached Speaker and began a conversation unheard but seen by all. Suddenly, a deep, hearty laugh came from Speaker. A brilliant, warm smile radiated through the meadow, instantly placing everyone at ease. His gentle gaze moved from one of pride to love, as a mother holding a newborn child. Speaker placed a single hand on App¡¯s shoulder as he meekly stepped forward. By this time the group of cautious Malakh had eased, however, remained in a half-moon, shoulder to shoulder formation, appreciating the sense of security afforded by the others nearest. The contemplative group, including myself, had moved forward into the meadow, while the remaining bold group had stepped even closer to Speaker, almost as if following App.


    The groups had formed a makeshift wedge with the bold group at the center. As Speaker approached the wedge, his persona radiated controlled strength, each step decisive, his footing always sure, his gaze never leaving the eyes of the group in front of him. When his gentle brown eyes met yours, even for the briefest of moments, your body filled with warmth, and your mind with peace. Any worries, concerns or doubt did not seem to matter any longer. Even the greatest of anxieties, the unknown, was no longer a thought. A sense of value or worth filled you to the very depths of your being. Without a word, we all knew he had spoken us, we all knew he cared for us, we all knew he was proud of us. Without a word, we each knew we were forever in his debt. We each knew it was an honor to even be in his presence, and yet, he looked at us as if he was it was his honor to be near us.


    Speaker, gently stepping forward towards the tip of the wedge, his strength radiating from his presence as a stronger magnet pushes weaker magnets away without ever actually touching, pushing the wedge back, turning our group into a half circle. In a moment of complete unknown, each of the Malakh remained resolute, their very being filled with peace. Speaker, gently, yet boldly stated his name, his real name. It was the first, and the only time we heard it used. The mere utterance of the name caused the liquid in the nearby rocks to ripple, the blades of grass to stretch, the leaves of the trees to spin while the branches bowed, and suddenly, a great wind hurled through the meadow. It was over as fast as it started, however, any doubt in the feelings we had all felt, immediately ceased. Whoever we were was nowhere near the power and authority of Speaker.Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    He graciously nodded at each of the twelve, individually welcoming them. I suppose this welcome felt as if it was a welcome to the land as a whole, but in many ways it was a welcome to this intimate place in the meadow. It wasn¡¯t until later that we even began to understand the hallowed ground we were standing on. As he addressed each individual, he called them by name, their real name. As each name was spoken, it felt as when a power source is connected to a device, immediately engaging a system and the array of tools it possesses. There was a tangible energy in the air, not visible, but a power far more immense than we understood then, and at times I wonder if we understand now.


    He then turned back towards App and approached him for the first of twelve individual conversations. Their conversation continued for some time, Speaker communicating softly, seeming to desire the content of the conversation to remain private. App, ever the bold, responded loud enough for the others in the meadow to hear, though I am not quite sure if that was intentional or simply App being App and Speaker being Speaker. After what appeared to have been a heartfelt conversation on both sides, he once again placed a hand on App¡¯s shoulder, an almost genial grin on his face, and he gave him a final nod before moving to the next.


    Each of the remaining conversations was an individual, private conversation. The meadow felt electrified as a concert, yet solemn as a courtroom, those having gone filled with pride and purpose, while those still waiting as a batter on deck in the ninth inning. The magnitude of this moment would remain lost on all those involved for a very long time to come. I suppose this is one of the downfalls of being spoken into existence with no context with which to base an opinion on.


    As methodical as a physician taking shift change report, taking immense interest in each little detail, Speaker continued his rounds. App, having been the first to receive his name, and the group behind him following, were now silently watching. App and I made eye contact, and I felt a measure of courage as a soldier might looking into the eyes of a seemingly fearless sergeant. It was that feeling you might experience when taunted by upcoming decisions, yet knowing the person standing next to you relished in making the difficult decisions, therefore the burden would not fall to you.


    App continued to watch as Speaker approached me. While that first moment of Speaker¡¯s gaze will remain a memory forever, the most impactful moment of my existence was this first, intimate conversation with Speaker. Perhaps I wasn¡¯t paying close enough attention to the others'' interactions, or perhaps it truly was different, but this first conversation felt much longer than the others'' conversations had been. Unfortunately, Speaker requested the words shared in this moment to remain between us, though over time you will certainly see the instructions I was given as I carried them out. As a father teaches his young son in the finer arts of hunting, or a coach pours into a young quarterback, seeking to inspire, yet educate, to instruct, yet empower, so this moment was. This was the moment of guidance that would dictate every decision I would make, up to this very day. Oh, let me be clear, there would be plenty of room for my own decisions and creativity, but the mission that was set forth from this moment was crystal clear, and served as my litmus test for each moment and decision I was required to make and continue to make. Whether the time spent conversing was longer than the others, I¡¯ll never truly know, however, at the conclusion of the conversation, Speaker firmly placed a hand on each of my shoulders while facing me, and gently stared into my eyes. We did not speak, we did not break eye contact, we did not move. This moment served as a commission of sorts, as a law enforcement officer being sworn in. Without sharing a word in this final moment, Speaker staring deeply into not just my eyes, but the very depths of my being, my greatest mission was given to me. A mission I continue to this very day.


    In hindsight, it was completely disrespectful, but in the moment it was almost a subconscious effort. As Speaker moved to the man standing next to me, I listened to him present his name. He had a younger appearance than myself, with dark tan skin, brown observant eyes, long brown hair, and no facial hair. He was one of the shorter of the twelve. Parts of the conversation were broken, and in the moment I did not think much of it but looking back, it feels as if Speaker knew the importance of our future friendship for what lay ahead and desired for me to be a part of the conversation. This man was and is a dear friend. We will call him Tabi. Unlike my contemplative self, or the proud App, Tabi seemed to represent a common ground, a boldness, yet caution, direct, yet contemplative. His reverent  conversation was the first of so many I would see them have. Tabi, if nothing else, maintains a loyalty of a degree that will never be repeated.


    Speaker concluded the rounds, each of the twelve having been personally given their name and their purpose, and moved back to the front of the group with the same conviction of step as before. The electricity in the air only seemed to further charge as he stood in front of us. He conscientiously observed each member of the twelve one more time, before he asked, ¡°Who¡¯s hungry?¡± While the concept of hunger registered immediately upon the question being asked, the remedy or the purpose did not. This was yet another conundrum of being spoken as an adult with a limited knowledge base. Most importantly, it felt odd. How could such a charged moment, whether it be spiritual, mental, or emotional, end with asking who was hungry? This, this very moment, was Speaker. An incredibly intimate moment, maybe the most intimate, to be suddenly commensurated with the sharing of a meal. His love for joy, his love for us, his love for life, radiated through his gentle tone, his controlled strength, his little smirk, not one of arrogance but of a proud father looking down upon his child. He was truly captivating.¡±


    Kai found himself staring at Mik lost in his  words. There was a tangible reverence with each word as Mik reflected on a time long past, a time according to Mik, that existed outside of time itself. Mik, no longer gazing at the fire, nor at the stars, but into the dark distance, as a student in a terribly boring chemistry class, snapped back to the present, noticing Kai was staring at him. Unlike most who are caught daydreaming Mik did not show any signs of embarrassment, but for just the briefest of moments, grief, depths of your soul grief, appeared and was gone before Kai could even be sure. The two sat in silence, a symphony of the night''s crickets filling the silence. What a simple sound, what a peaceful sound. Mik seemed to expect questions, but Kai did not dare shatter such an intimate moment.


    Mik, ever observant, understood and appreciated the respect and continued, ¡°Speaker¡¯s son beckoned all of us to follow him. It could have been conjured from thin air or could have been there the entire time, I will never know but certainly hadn¡¯t noticed it before, a dirt path leading into the thick grove of pines. The path was a simple dirt path lined with light gray stones, similar to the outcropping of stones at the center of the meadow. The twelve, still very uncertain of the hierarchy, not yet knowing the proper manner of things followed Speaker¡¯s son towards the path.


    As we walked towards the path we passed the outcropping of rocks filled with the liquid. The liquid grew timid as we approached, almost as a child attempting to hide in plain sight during hide-n-seek. Several of us, including App, Tabi, and myself found ourselves completely stopped, staring into the liquid. What a peculiar substance. With us standing over it, the substance became so still, far more glass-like than an undisturbed lake at sunrise. It nearly appeared no longer liquid, but a solid. Speaker¡¯s son, looking back at us, a gracious smile on his face, clearly bemused by our curiosity, stated, ¡°That is Ruach. You will learn about it soon enough. For now, let us eat!¡±


    We slowly began to shuffle towards Speaker¡¯s son at the threshold of the path. We were all mesmerized by this so-called Ruach, turning our necks like an ostrich as we continued to walk towards the path. As I look back, this was a most peculiar moment, such a quick transition from where we were spoken to a completely different place. The path represented the unknown. While we knew we were moving on from the utmost peace and tranquility of the meadow, we had no idea we were moving towards majestic greatness. The path was the beginning of the journey of the Malakh.¡±

 Family Dinner

    ¡°The path was wide enough to walk two at a time, however, the group walked in a staggered line, bonds not yet formed, leaving an open space next to each person creating an interestingly serpent like pattern down the path. Our humble clothing of a simple, one-piece, off-white, sleeveless cloth ending just above our knees, and a simple soft rope as a belt, gently swayed as we walked. The sandals on our feet were of a soft sturdy brown leather, the straps ending at our ankles, provided durable support. The pine trees remained incredibly thick not only on both sides of the path, but over our heads as well, causing the mind to wonder what lie beyond the trees. The reality was we did not know the place we just came from, nor the place we were going. I suppose in this moment the unknown actually fit quite well. Interestingly, the thick foliage surrounding us should have prevented any meaningful light from illuminating the path, yet we were able to see clearly as if the sun itself shone upon the path. App, the first to follow Speaker¡¯s son down the path eventually found himself walking side by side with him. Speaker¡¯s son engaged him in a conversation, clearly light-hearted, as evidenced by jovial smiles and an occasional laugh, however, the words shared could not be heard. One of the Malakh that had followed App in the meadow was not far behind them, followed by Tabi, and then myself. While some of us had a certain element of caution built into our personalities, there was never any indication or apparent need to be cautious in the environment we were in. The meadow not only appeared tranquil but filled the heart with peace. This path we now walked on, mind you, a path of unknown leading towards more unknown, and yet there was peace. This place knew no evil, and your mind and heart could feel this.


    We continued down this path, most of us intently peering at the foliage around us, some exchanging brief words amongst each other, App and the Speaker¡¯s son engaged in conversation. As a shepherd overlooking a flock, he would occasionally look back to ensure he had not lost any of us, a satisfied look on his face each time. He was such a captivating person, possessing an obvious father-like personality, yet childlike joy and enthusiasm. He and App conversed as lifelong friends might, the son always taking a deep interest in App¡¯s questions and responses. As we continued to walk the path began to broaden until the trees began to thin, eventually leading to another clearing. In the clearing was a large raised platform with large white pillars lining the perimeter of the platform. The pillars sustained a massive roof, the edge of which was as elegantly adorned with all manner of vines and greenery. Flowing through the greenery was a glassy, clear liquid, unconstrained by any material, yet flowing in sync. The pillars had vertical grooves molded into them with the unknown liquid gently falling from above the pillar, following the lines of the grooves. The bases of the pillars had solid bowl-like objects at their base where the liquid would flow out of sight. In the center of the raised platform was a table. The son stopped, turned to look at us, and smiled the smile of a child showing his father his newest Lego creation, as if he had been waiting for this moment for a very long time.


    At this point there was timid hesitation amongst the Malakh as to what to do next. Eleven of us gathered at the edge of the clearing, while App, full of bold curiosity, walked ahead of the son and approached the platform. The son gently waved us onward toward the platform, nodding reassuringly, as if this structure and the table within had always been ours. App stepped onto the platform first and looked around in stunned amazement, the rest of us following not far behind. There were beautiful marble-like steps to the side, however, I proceeded to step onto the platform without their assistance and looked around in awe. The table at the center of the platform was a large, dark wood, triangle-shaped table, with flat edges in place of each corner of the triangle. The table was ornately carved, appearing to be sanded or manipulated to a beautiful smooth finish. There were fifteen chairs at the table, one placed at each of the flat corners, and four chairs between each corner. The sets of four chairs were each carved of a different, yet just as beautiful dark wood, with a symbol carved, or burned, or perhaps stamped into the top of each chair near where one¡¯s head would be. The symbol looked like a thicker triangle with a thinner triangle inlaid in it, however, where the corners should have been on the thicker triangle were flat, the points of the inner triangle gently touching the flat area that should have been a corner. The three chairs at the flat corners were different from the other twelve, each possessing unique characteristics. While there was not necessarily a head of the table due to the shape, one of the three chairs was clearly the seat of honor, and could be thought of as the head. This chair was larger than the others, innately carved, and trimmed with a yellow metal. Interestingly, the three chairs at the corners of the triangular table did not possess the symbol the others did.


    Standing next to the gold trimmed, larger chair was Speaker. In that moment, I recalled him standing next to Tabi in the meadow and asking if we were hungry, however, whether it was due to being captivated by the Ruach or being caught up in observing the other Malakh, I do not recall him walking with us down the path, yet there he stood waiting for us. He was patiently observing us, a twinkle in his eye, an obvious pride in his smile. This powerful moment remains one of my most vivid memories. Speaker beckoned us to join him at the table. Speaker¡¯s son stood beside the chair at the flat corner of the triangle to the right of Speaker. The son indicated for App to sit in the chair immediately to the right of Speaker, followed by myself, then Tabi, and one of the other inquisitive Malakh I had been standing near in the meadow. The four Malakh that had gravitated to App in the meadow were directed to sit to the immediate left of Speaker, and the last four were directed to sit at what would have been considered the bottom of the triangle. One of the Malakh directed to sit to the left of Speaker initially began to pull the chair out at the flat corner to Speaker¡¯s left, however, Speaker, as a loving grandfather so gently rebukes his grandchild, he gently requested the Malakh not sit in the chair on the corner. The Malakh quickly expressed an apology and moved to the next chair over, leaving the corner chair open. Everyone was seated, however all eyes remained aloft, in awe of the intricate vines traveling around the edges of the ceiling and pillars and more interestingly the liquid flowing around them.¡±


    Briefly breaking away from the story, Mik looked at Kai and said, ¡°You will see Speaker¡¯s love for beauty and architecture woven throughout this tale. This was my first encounter, and far more telling than I could have known at the time.¡±


    Mik continued, ¡°Speaker remained standing, yet did not speak. He always placed a great deal of emphasis on the importance and power of words, but oftentimes seemed to exude even more power by not using them, allowing for moments to be processed in one¡¯s own mind without manipulation. To this day, I try to imitate this trait, though it has never come as naturally. One by one the Malakh¡¯s gazes slowly traversed from the beauty above to Speaker. One of the Malakh seated to the left of Speaker remained in a trance-like state, staring up, requiring a nudge from the Malakh next to him. I would later learn to call him Sid. Perhaps this is where his love for design began, or perhaps his trance was due to an innate love.


    Speaker made eye contact with his son, and gave the slightest of nods. He then looked at the empty chair in the other flat corner of the triangle table. The gesture was ever so slight, the bottom of his beard drifting but a fraction downward, however I believe I saw him nod at the empty chair. He then turned to his right, his piercing, yet gentle gaze meeting App¡¯s eyes and he stated, ¡°Welcome App.¡± He then proceeded down the line, ¡°Welcome Mik, welcome Tabi, welcome Raf.¡± Passing over the flat corner where the son was seated, he looked at the next Malakh and stated, ¡°Welcome Uriah, welcome Ragg, welcome Zera, welcome Sal.¡± Passing over the empty corner chair, he continued, ¡°Welcome Sid, welcome Koka, welcome Ram, welcome Asa.¡±


    With the tone and volume of controlled strength only Speaker could embody, a projection as if giving a pregame speech, yet the gentleness of a clinician speaking to a patient laying on a couch, Speaker stated, ¡°I have spoken each of you. You are my greatest work. You are not a guest at this table but a family member. You have each been spoken with unique qualities, innate traits, and special gifts, all of which will be brought to light in its time. You are the first of the Malakh, the Twelve. More Malakh will be spoken at the proper time, however, none will compare to, nor ever be as great as the Twelve. You will lead, you will serve, you will be part of my council.¡±


    Each of us remained captivated by his words, yet each time his eyes met yours, you could not help but feel as if he was reading your thoughts with the deep, observant stare. The son sat silent, simply because taking in the scene as one might a sunset from a pier hanging over the beach. The son always projected such joy, such contentment.The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    Speaker continued, ¡°You each are a citizen of the land of Doxa, and your charge will be to care for this land and all within it. Look around the table.¡± Speaker allowed for each of us to slowly work our gaze around the table, using methodical silence to fill a void words never could. ¡°You are as brothers, as family, and you will first care for one another.¡± Speaker again used silence to allow the words to gather weight as a faucet filling a bowl. He then continued, ¡°While there are a great many important things we must discuss, none are more than the first. Let us eat.¡± With a smile as radiant as a full moon on a starless night, Speaker looked on as all of the Malakh gasped at the sight of the entire triangle table being full of every type of food you could imagine, and many more you could not.


    Mik, sighing and temporarily breaking away from the story said to Kai, ¡°It is hard to describe some of the foods, though some of my favorites from this day actually resemble your steak, some of the spicy rice dishes found in Asia, and those large, roasted turkey legs at your fairs and amusement parks. There were plenty of delicious fruits and vegetables, some of which you have and some you don¡¯t, though I¡¯ve never personally cared much for either.¡±


    Kai, smirking, and quietly laughing, said, ¡°I¡¯ve never cared much for fruits or vegetables either.¡± Mik, chuckled lightly and stated, ¡°You know Kai, you¡¯re not so bad¡±, before continuing on with the story.


    Mik pressed on, ¡°As I stated, we had many faculties when we were spoken, and the concept of food made sense, though being hungry did not, that is, until this moment. Food is an incredibly powerful substance, particularly delicious food. A meal, a meal with people you know you belong with, is truly one of the greatest bonds that can be shared, and it was in this moment the bonding of the Malakh began. Speaker announced, ¡°Please enjoy this food, prepared by my son, but more importantly, enjoy each other''s company and get to know one another. There are no enemies here.¡±


    Having watchfully observed each other in the meadow, App and I were already very well aware of each other, and it did not go unnoticed we were the two seated to the immediate right of the Speaker. While we did not necessarily understand it, we knew this to likely be a place of honor. App and I turned slightly towards each other, neither quite sure how to initiate a conversation. Over App¡¯s shoulder I could see a twinkle in Speaker¡¯s eye that would have made Dumbledore jealous. Setting down the massive leg of whatever meat he was about to bite into, and a hearty chuckle bellowing from his throat, Speaker said, ¡°Here in Doxa, when meeting someone new, you extend your hand like this.¡± Speaker extended his right arm forwards toward App and indicated App should do the same. He then grabbed hold of App¡¯s forearm and nodded for App to do the same. He gave App a slight bow of his head to which App responded. Speaker continued, ¡°The one who initially extended their hand should state their name first, and the other should respond.¡± With a beaming smile and using his massive turkey leg-like food in his hand as a college instructor would a pointer, Speaker pointed at me and said, ¡°Now you try.¡±


    App turned to face me, neither of us were sure who should make the first move, and we found ourselves in an awkward staring contest. Speaker laughed so hard the piece of meat he had just bitten off the leg flew out of his mouth. Through the laugh he then yelled, ¡°You two are quite the tough guys aren¡¯t you! Mik, you go first!¡± Speaker¡¯s laugh, his joy, his presence were so overwhelming, and so contagious. I don¡¯t remember who broke first, but App and I suddenly found ourselves grinning broadly at each other. A warm, welcoming Doxa handshake followed. I introduced myself as Mik, and App responded in turn. I told App, ¡°I can¡¯t believe you just walked up to Speaker in the meadow like you owned the place!¡± App laughed at me and said, ¡°No way! I can¡¯t believe you were able to just sit back and observe! I couldn¡¯t even help myself, I had to walk forward, I had to find out!¡±


    App and I seemed to simultaneously notice the odd sense of quiet around us, as two friends notice they were the only ones still talking after the teacher had held up their hand asking the class to quiet down. We looked up at the others at the table and noticed none of them had begun talking yet. We both turned to our left, looking at Speaker. With a smirk on his face he leaned forward and quietly stated so only we could hear, ¡°This is the first of countless moments in which the rest of the twelve will look to you two for guidance.¡± I turned back to look at the table, processing what Speaker had just shared, only to find App already standing, tapping my shoulder indicating I should do the same. App and I demonstrated a proper introduction to the group and returned to our seats. There was a brief moment of silence before Tabi turned to Raf, having been qualified to complete a Doxa introduction, and extended his hand. The rest of the table began doing the same. A moment later the entire table had exploded in conversation. I noticed Speaker and his son make eye contact and smile at each other.


    App and I returned to our conversation about the beginning, the moment in the meadow. We spoke for several minutes before I noticed Speaker leaning forward in his chair as if waiting for his turn to say something. App, deep in his story about the moment he took charge in the meadow did not notice until I simply pointed at Speaker. App, caught off guard turned to look at Speaker and said, ¡°I¡¯m so sorry, I didn¡¯t even notice you!¡± Speaker, his cheeks full of joy, laughed softly and told App, ¡°It¡¯s quite ok.¡± Speaker then addressed both of us, ¡°The Malakh are the most powerful beings ever spoken. You all have a great deal to learn, however, the two of you were spoken to lead. I encourage you two to get to know each other well, to explore together, to do life together. Your friendship, your bond will drive the Malakh.¡± With his palm facing up, Speaker waved his hand, indicating we look at the rest of the table and said, ¡°You two demonstrating a Doxa handshake changed this entire table and this entire time. How much more influence will you have when leading in important things? Do not ever take that for granted, for it is the proper manner of things.¡±


    Both solemnly nodded and Speaker returned to his meal while the two returned to conversation. The conversations continued around the table, though Doxa does not have time, so there is no way to measure for how long. Eventually, Speaker stood and his son walked around the table to join him. A short moment later the table had noticed the two standing at the head of the table, both smiling, both simply observing. The table came to a slow quiet. Once the table was quiet, Speaker stated, ¡°Thank you for joining us for this meal. This is your home and your table with many memories to come. I¡¯m sure many of you have questions. Are there any we can answer now?¡± There was quiet murmuring around the table, though none bold enough to ask a question, until App stepped forward of course. At the sight of App stepping forward, Speaker began to chuckle again, slowly shaking his head, and obviously thoroughly entertained, stated, ¡°And what might be your question dear App?¡± App, with no hesitation, responded, ¡°You say we were spoken by you, you have shared this delicious food with us, you¡¯ve even shared customs with us, yet, we don¡¯t know why we are here.¡± Speaker, with a smile still on his face, but now a twinkle in his eye responded, ¡°I didn¡¯t hear a question in there.¡± Leaning back in my chair, stomach full from the delicious food, I said, ¡°You know App, he does have a good point there.¡±


    The entire table erupted in laughter, including App. App then amended his statement and asked, ¡°Why are we here?¡± Speaker, twinkle still in his eye, but now a contemplative look, and a deep stare into App¡¯s eyes sat silently. In my head I was thinking there was no way he didn¡¯t know that was the first question that would be asked. In hindsight he had probably already read App¡¯s thoughts and knew it would be asked. Speaker, after a slightly awkward period of silence, responded, ¡°You have seen the intricacies of this platform and table, you have seen the beauty of the meadow. You will see in time my love for beauty, my love for joy, my love for creativity, my love for the proper manner of things. You will also see my love for friendship, my love for relationship and my love for the intangible all these things create. This is why you all were spoken. You are this. In short time you will see other things I have spoken, animals, nature, architecture, yet none compare to you. Soon, I intend to speak many, many more Malakh, but none will equal you in power or capabilities, and it will be the Twelve¡¯s duty to lead them.¡±


    The silence was deafening. This was the first time since arriving on the platform where the table rested that it had been so quiet you could hear the water floating through the vines actually sounded like a small creek moving over smooth stones. While I suppose none of us could have really envisioned a proper answer from Speaker, I do not believe this response was anticipated by any of us. App turned to look at me, a sense of camaraderie, a sense of a shared goal written into his eyes. We were the Twelve. We were spoken to exemplify beauty and creativity. We were spoken to lead.¡±

 Two Tales

    Mik drew an ivory canteen-like object, with a white metal stopper from beneath his cloak. Popping the stopper off, he took a long drink before wiping his mouth with his wool-blend sleeve. Kai, gazing into the fire again, found himself in a strange place, completely consumed by Mik¡¯s story, yet the reality was Mik had only shared a story, no proof. There was the strange symbol that had briefly peaked above his cloak, and the even stranger armor. There was fact he was larger than a normal man, though incredibly tall men weren¡¯t completely unheard of. Then, there was this innate, almost burning sensation within his chest, that feeling Mik already knew him, already knew his story, and knew so much more than what he had shared thus far.


    Kai looked up to find Mik¡¯s vibrant blue eyes searching his own, a kindness radiating from the calm, father-like stare. Mik asked, ¡°Would you care to share some of your story?¡± Kai, confused by the question, was preparing to ask what Mik had meant when he remembered they had agreed to exchange stories, not just the sharing of Mik¡¯s. Kai transitioned into an uncomfortable silence, subconsciously grabbing a nearby stick, gently coaxing the fire that clearly needed to be reminded of its purpose. A chill settled on the conversation as Kai¡¯s brain attempted to make sense of sharing any personal information. The reality was it had been years since anybody had actually known Kai, the harsher reality were those years had formed a new Kai, one far more comfortable with a detached, distant, withdrawn persona than the man before the war. It was easier this way.


    Kai, mind still partially in the past, and partially working through Mik¡¯s question asked, ¡°What is it you¡¯d like to know?¡± Kai knew Mik sensed the hesitation, sensed the reluctance, sensed the calloused heart and guarded mind. Mik, as an experienced psychologist to a patient on the couch, responded, ¡°Why don¡¯t you start from your beginning, though I¡¯m well enough versed in your people¡¯s birth process, so why not start from a time you can actually remember?¡± Kai¡¯s decision making process was reset as he did not expect to wander this far into his past, however, also felt a measure of relief at the reminiscence of a time long ago, a time that felt like a prior lifetime. Wisdom stretched forth an open hand in Mik¡¯s statement, and Kai took hold of the hand and began.


    Kai said, ¡°I don¡¯t have many memories of my early childhood, though most definitely none are negative. I grew up in a middle class neighborhood, living in the same house from the age of one years old until I was nineteen. I had two loving, incredibly devoted parents, and two younger brothers, who remain my best friends. Our parents made every sacrifice possible to ensure we received a good education and the opportunity to participate in many sports. Our family was never wealthy, nor did we go on elaborate vacations, but we always had enough. We took many trips to the mountains where our father taught us to tent camp, to fish, and to cook that very same fish for our meals that night. Our mother held us to the highest standard in school, accepting nothing short of our highest effort. We spent countless hours on athletic fields, honing skills, learning to process defeat, and fix mistakes. Coaches that truly cared about our development on and off the field poured into us. We were taught to play through injuries, even being scolded by our mother if serious injuries did occur and we were unable to continue playing.¡± Kai chuckling to himself then stated, ¡°That was until we learned one of those injuries was serious enough to require immediate surgery and put a halt to the season. My father and I would never let my mother forget that day. In hindsight it was an incredibly blessed life, and one that was intricately woven with a single teaching point, love God and his people. My parents always lived life in this way, and we were taught to do the same.¡±


    Kai, the weight of sharing a life story with a stranger snapping him back to the present, or perhaps it was the flame that had mischievously tiptoed up his stick, now precariously close to his fingers, creating a near burning sensation. Mik wore the look as if someone had just solved a riddle he had been mulling over for days, simply nodded at Kai, indicating he should continue.


    Kai, twisting the stick in the dirt, gently extinguishing the flames, and seeing the fire in the pit had woken from its slumber, continued, ¡°The time spent on the athletic field proved to be useful as I earned a partial athletic scholarship while I continued my studies at university. The new found freedom of university was not great for me. I did not attend classes nearly as often as I should have, and stayed out late with friends. My grades began to suffer, and my scholarship was in jeopardy. I was also working at a local restaurant while completing my studies. At this restaurant I met a young, fantastic woman, the type that quite literally captivates your mind, making it impossible to focus on anything else. We worked together for some time before I mustered the courage to ask her on a date, and to my complete astonishment, she agreed. Not long after our first date she found out about my poor attendance and grades. The simple statement of, ¡°That¡¯s not attractive¡±, from her was all I needed to hear. The statement echoed to my very soul, and I immediately began attending all classes, ensuring I received the highest grades. Three months later, I asked her to marry me, three months after that she was my bride. She is my best friend, my world, my gift. She stood by me when nobody else should have, she lifted me up when I was down, she filled me with courage when I had none of my own.Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    I completed my studies and entered into a career in law enforcement. A couple years into the career I was assigned to a gang unit, where my team and I would proactively seek to disrupt gang activity and pursue gang members after they had committed crimes. The work was incredibly dangerous, however incredibly fulfilling. On this team I developed bonds with the other members who remain brothers to me to this day. While on this team, my wife and I had two children.¡± Grinning, Kai said, ¡°Being the ultimate manly man, I only wanted sons, however, as luck would have it we were given two daughters. They were truly the greatest gift I have ever received. It is quite fascinating how two children, raised in the same home, can be so different. While both received their mothers brain and were incredibly intelligent, one was very mild mannered, similar to myself, and the other was very much a fireball like her mother.¡±


    Mik was beaming ear to ear, the vibrant blue eyes twinkling like a mountaintops night sky, entirely captivated by the story, though it didn¡¯t seem the story itself was captivating as much as the story from Kai¡¯s perspective. He seemed very intrigued by Kai¡¯s facial expressions, intently watching the annunciation of each word, leaning in and sitting back with the inflection of Kai¡¯s voice, as a child anticipating the enthralling portion of a story they¡¯ve heard countless times, yet still request to hear it again. Kai, feeling slightly uncomfortable at the level of Mik¡¯s intrigue and the depths of his stare, looked down, beginning to etch random figures in the dirt between his feet.


    Mik, sensing Kai¡¯s unease, subdued the flames of discomfort with the simple statement, ¡°Tell me more.¡± Kai, thankful for the reprieve, though unsure exactly how to continue, simply responded, ¡°Those are the greatest memories of my life.¡± Both men allowed the thought to slow cook, marinating in the power of wonderful memories. Kai continued, ¡°I don¡¯t understand what you mean by saying you operate outside of time, as so much of my life has felt like it has passed so quickly, none as quickly as these days after my daughters were born. These moments remain woven into the very fabric of time, a part of my very soul. If the ability to freeze time existed, these early years of my daughters lives would be the moment. My wife, our daughters, our little home, bedtime stories, building Legos, riding bikes, family trips, the list is quite endless. For any accolades the world may have offered, none compare to these moments.


    By the time our girls were nearing their pre-teen years, our world had changed drastically. I¡¯m not sure how much of it you witnessed or were part of, but it only adds to my deep regret to not have truly appreciated those special years the way I do now. At the time the war began, it felt like it began so slowly, and certainly not like what it became. As a student of history I felt World War II was not so far in our past that we, as a people, could allow it to happen again. There were many days we spent walking our incredibly inquisitive daughters through politics, history, dictators, and the evil nature of those who desire power, as we watched smaller wars along the borders of Russia and the borders of Israel. We did our best to guide and offer wisdom, while not truly understanding ourselves, and far more importantly, not understanding what lay ahead. When the war began to spread our daughters began to grow anxious. They had studied the American Revolution and the World Wars, they may or may not have even watched a movie called The Patriot, though don¡¯t tell their mother that. Their anxiety began to build as more and more daddies began to enlist in the military as the certainty of widespread war grew. Having worked on the gang unit for a long time, I had grown to disdain violence, not necessarily opposed to it, but a great hatred for the consequences of it.¡±


    The sorrow in Kai¡¯s voice, the heartache in the direction the tale had turned appeared to weigh heavily on Mik, leading him to subconsciously, ever so slowly shake his head and mutter, ¡°It was never supposed to be this way.¡± Kai, his stomach aching, whether from hunger or memory was unknown, pausing and breathing slowly, his eyes eventually found Mik. He noticed an incredible stillness had descended upon Mik, a tangible stillness, not unlike a moment caught in a Polaroid, leading Kai to feel as if even the flickering flames of the fire slowed in response to the stillness. Mik did not appear tense, though immensely focused, yet his eyes did not appear focused on anything specific, eyes carving through the fire before them. The stillness was suddenly snapped from the scene as a large log snapped in half within the fire, followed by a shower of sparks and embers rising into the air. The stillness was replaced with the solemn, gentle speech of Mik, ¡°Kai, I am truly sorry. It was never meant to be this way. It was supposed to be so much more than this.¡±


    Kai, somewhat puzzled by Mik¡¯s statement, asked what he meant. Mik responded, ¡°The plan was divine, the world perfect, the inhabitants eternal. This, this great catastrophe, this indiscriminate violence, this pursuit of self, none of this should have come to pass. Still not understanding, Kai asked if Mik could provide further detail. Mik responded while he wished he could, as before, it would all make so much more sense if he shared the tale in its entirety. Mik said, ¡°While I truly have so many questions for you, I feel it would be most beneficial if I continued for now, in the hope of providing you the clarity you seek.¡±


    Thankful for the reprieve from the sorrow his memories had provoked, Kai nodded, his body and mind subconsciously relaxing at the prospect of not having to travel down the brutal road of memories.

 The Forest

    As the wood of the fire crackled, the embers rose to the heavens, and the cricket symphony played the eloquent tune, Mik took a deep breath and continued, ¡°At the conclusion of what amounted to our first family dinner we were shown to our quarters. While Malakh do not sleep, we do pray, meditate, and have personal possessions, all of which our personal quarters were used for. At the conclusion of the meal, Speaker stood once more, patiently waiting, as only the greatest of teachers can, for all side conversations to dissipate. Sid, not wanting to be caught not paying attention again was one of the first to notice. Speaker stated, ¡°Meals will be served here as needed, however, if you are in Doxa, family dinner will always be announced and you are all always invited as the importance of sharing life over a meal cannot be overstated.¡± As I have mentioned several times, we were spoken outside of time, so to say suppers were held in the evenings wouldn¡¯t quite make sense, though we found suppers tended to be regularly held and often at the conclusion of training or work over a given period. Speaker continued, ¡°My son will now show you each to your quarters. These areas are your personal space for possessions, meditation, and if you simply need seclusion.¡±


    The son stood with a grin, indicating with a slight lifting of both hands and a curling of his fingers at the lower knuckle, that we should all do the same. The son then began walking to the opposite side of the platform we had entered from. He descended the steps into a pristine clearing of vibrant green grass and a gentle breeze. Peculiarly, this side of the platform was walled by trees that would no doubt provoke a sense of awe even in your greatest Redwoods or Sequoias. I later learned these were the trees of Doxa, the greatest of all trees. The mere bark exuded wisdom only an object that knows no time could even begin to emit. While there are truly incredible structures both here and in Doxa, the trees of Doxa, some appearing to reach the very clouds themselves, represent a greatness and yet an intricacy, only a living monument can display. The bark itself, thicker than a man¡¯s torso, clads the tree in a noble armor. The branches were broad of shoulder, standing at attention, a never-ceasing sentry. These great branches were ordained with intricate leaves, each different in shape as a snowflake. An eternal alliance stood between the trees, the fern-like vegetation of the ground, and the vines that draped the trees in as beautiful jewelry. A faint dust rose from around the trees, an almost unnoticeable glow gently radiating from it. In many ways they are alive much like us. The trees of Doxa declare the glory, exemplify the creativity, and exude the love for beauty that Speaker commands. They do not know time, and the very rings within them carry the tales of the times even before the Malakh.


    Much like the original clearing, a path led from this clearing into the forest of the trees of Doxa. The son waited for the rest of the Malakh to descend from the platform before proceeding towards the path. The path was much larger than the first path, allowing for three or perhaps even four Malakh to comfortably walk side by side, though most found themselves walking two by two. While conversations from the dinner table had initially resumed as we descended the platform, a solemn awe had settled over the group as we approached the path and were overcome by the trees. The initial meadow had filled one''s mind with peace, while this meadow and the trees of Doxa can only be described as majestic. As these trees were far larger than the pines of the first path they did not create a wall as much as they stood as sentries watching over a sacred land. App and I found ourselves side by side as we entered the path, following behind the son. The son repeatedly turned to look at us, jovial, almost giddy as we walked along the path, as if he had a great surprise waiting at the end of the journey, while we remained in awe of the trees.


    The trees commanded such a great amount of space there did not appear to be any pattern or structure in their positioning, though the majesty that radiated from them left little doubt as to their intentional design. Their great leaves created a beautiful canopy over our heads, a canopy that served as home to many creatures. Over time I was able to develop not only an appreciation, but an understanding of many of these creatures. Some resembled the blue jays of your North American forests, or the toucans of your South American jungles, and yet others the chimpanzees of your Central African rainforests. Certainly none were actually blue jays, toucans, or chimpanzees, but I would venture to guess you would find them very similar. The sentry-like trees solemnly stood watch as we strolled down the path.


    App, gaining the son¡¯s attention, as he placed his palm on the nearest tree, asked, ¡°What are these?¡± The son, lips gently pinching together, an aura of respect permeating from his gaze, looked from the base of the tree to the canopy and responded, ¡°These are the great trees of Doxa, the Dynami. My father spoke these. They intertwine strength, beauty, and vibrant life in a way very few things can, even in Doxa.¡± App clearly sensed the majesty. To this day, I don¡¯t  recall many moments in which App was as reverent as he was in this moment. In the way a beautiful painting can exemplify an artist¡¯s gifts, the Dynami filled us with wonder and awe at Speaker¡¯s power. As far as the eye could see through the trees to each side of the path, the great Dynami stood, bringing tangible life to the forest.


    The group of Malakh, led by the son, continued down the path leading into the forest of centurion-like Dynami, conversations resuming as the initial awe gave way to the spirit of adventure. At this stage we were completely unaware of the physical abilities and characteristics we possessed, therefore we remained constrained in the three original categories of the meadow, the bold, the contemplative and the cautious, though we were no longer in those original groups, but in groups of two, delineated by the friendships forged at the family dinner. Of course this left App and I walking together, and our discussion returned to our previous topic, App abruptly walking up to Speaker in the meadow. App, already emboldened by this new sense of adventure as we pressed into the forest of Dynami discussed why it simply felt right to approach Speaker, and he did not even consider potential consequences, but rather was unwilling to allow the uncertainty of the unknown to continue to weigh on him.


    The low murmur of conversation reverberated through the forest, however, the deeper we trekked into the forest the greater the sounds of the forest itself grew. Some of the sounds you no doubt would recognize, frogs, crickets, and the tweeting of birds. There were however, many other sounds, often sounding as a beautiful violin or as gentle as a harp. As the musical sounds grew in volume, the low murmurs of conversation began to fade into a state of quiet curiosity. App was the first to notice, there, maybe thirty feet off the ground, burning on a tree branch, a flame. It was flickering light blue to dark blue, about the size of a small bonfire, the sound of a breathtaking Celtic fiddle emitting from within it. My heart ached as the music slowed and lowered in volume, only to begin racing as the pace and volume increased. My mind rode an incredible rollercoaster of emotions yearning for more as the volume faded, and feeling completely overwhelmed as it increased. Up ahead, the son had paused to take in the blue fire and the majestic sound emitting from it. App continued to walk forward while his head slowly turned, his eyes captivated with the flame. He was so consumed by the flame he ran directly into the son, nearly knocking him to the ground. As a stone being thrown into a still pond, the blue flame rippled with the commotion, and the sound faded. App profusely apologized to the son, however, the rest of the Malakh became perfectly still as the ripples continued until the flame slowly began to grow. The flame started to separate, a vibrant electric blue on the outside, a dark blue emitting from the center, and faint semi-vertical lines began to appear in rows across the entirety. Another low murmur began to stir through the Malakh as what had appeared to be flame slowly opened into wings, and the proud yet graceful crest and head of a bird rose from under the wings. A mesmerizing ploom of tail feathers, previously nestled into the wings slowly dropped down, revealing tail feathers not unlike the appearance of a rooster, though emitting an electrifying blue flame. The crest protruding from the top of the creature''s head had a similar appearance to the tail, elegantly curling back from the top of the head and down the creature''s back. The feathers of the creature appeared to be a pulsing blue flame, with an electric blue current visibly coursing through it.


    The son, smiling broadly, and finally convincing App ten apologies was plenty sufficient, returned his attention to the beautiful flame, or creature, or whatever it was. Smile still radiating, the son stated, ¡°This is a Chari, one of the most majestic creatures in all of Doxa.¡± The creature tilted its head slightly sideways while turning it towards the group, the facial features appearing similar to a hawk, with the piercing eyes of a bald eagle. Descending the neck were incredible feathers similar to those of the tail and the crest. Suddenly, with no warning, the creature spread its beautiful wings, gracefully left the present branch and gently floated down to a branch that was at our eye level. Turning its head sideways again, it peered at us. While the eyes remained piercing, there was also a tenderness and curiosity as it studied us. This was most certainly not a time for movement or sound, as such, we remained perfectly still, allowing this creature to command the moment. I felt a pang of sadness in my heart, and realized the beautiful sound had stopped. I found myself yearning for the sound to continue. The creature, satisfied with its assessment of the group, focused its attention on me and then App. The inquisitive eyes bore through the two of us. Stoic as a stone, it did not give any indication of emotion, yet as it stared at App for a long moment, a single tear slowly fell from the corner of its eye, rolled down the beautiful feathers and gently descended to the dirt of the path.


    The Chari then turned its gaze to the son. The son nodded, stoically approached the creature, and began to gently stroke the feathers from the radiating crest down the back. As the son stroked the feathers, I noticed it was not actually on fire, but a near electricity could be seen coursing through the feathers, giving off a licking flame-like aura. ¡°Hello old friend¡±, the son softly spoke. He continued speaking to the Chari for a few moments, though in such hushed tones, the conversation will never be known. As quickly as it all started, the feathers rippled, creating the flickering fire mirage and the creature gently ascended to its original perch. A short moment later, the beautiful sound, the musical melody began to fill the air, and I once again rode the roller coaster of despair and joy, sadness and excitement. This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    With a slight, sideways nod of the head, the son indicated we should continue our journey. What a magical moment, a moment so elegant, it felt wrong to simply continue walking. It was as if allowing a great musician to proceed to the next song without applause, yet we did continue on, pushing further down the path, deeper into the Dynami. As a person who had never left their home, it was not possible to grasp the magnitude of what we were experiencing at the time, as that was all we knew. App and I began talking again. App, completely fascinated by the Chari, yet, very frustrated he had allowed himself to be so captivated he had collided with the son, raised his voice again and said, ¡°I¡¯m sorry again, I truly don¡¯t know how I¡¯d become so consumed.¡± The son started laughing and said, ¡°I do, the Chari. Fascinating creatures, Chari, you know. For all of their external beauty, their most creative attribute is actually their ability to read another being. No, not just facial expressions or even emotion, but to look deep within and actually understand someone to their very core.¡±


    The son left this statement simmering in the air and continued walking ahead of the group, appearing deep in thought, yet joyful as a child walking down a toy aisle. App turned again to look at me, slowly walking forward, though perpetually concerned with the son and their proximity. He stated, ¡°I¡¯m not sure what to think of this place, captivating, no doubt, beautiful, certainly, but there is this aching feeling as if we have only begun to experience this place, Doxa, or whatever they called it.¡± App had pronounced Doxa, Dosha, and I subtly corrected him to enunciate the ¡°x¡± and pronounce it as D-o-ck-sa. App eyed me with a grinning suspicion, and said, ¡°You certainly are the rule follower are you not? I suppose you¡¯ll correct me if I say the word Sherry for the fire bird thing we just saw?¡± I chuckled and corrected him to remind him the son had stated the bird was named Chari, enunciating it as K-uh-ri, with a long I. App, clearly amused, said, ¡°You¡¯re signing up for a full time job if you intend to always keep me out of trouble.¡± Chuckling again, I responded that was a rather bold statement for someone who had just been spoken. With the speed of a cracking whip, App responded, ¡°We may have just been spoken, but I have no doubt of the mischief I am capable of.¡± I rolled my eyes and told App he had already proven his mischievous capabilities by running over the son, which was met with an entertained glare from App.


    As we continued walking, App and I continued our brotherly banter, while also contemplating the duty Speaker had tasked us with. Subconsciously looking back at the other Malakh, we both expressed a confusion with this duty to lead the others, and what the tangible carrying out of this assignment might look like. As I subconsciously gazed back at the others I noticed Tabi and Raf were in deep conversation and the closest to us, followed by Sid and Koka, who were engaged in their own conversation, though far more dramatic in their tones and body language. Unbeknownst to us, the rebar had been placed and the deep footings of a robust foundation had been poured into the friendships of those who had sat next to each other at the dinner table. App had noticed these bonds as well, and commented how quickly the Malakh had moved from suspicion and confusion to bonding, all with a simple meal.


    The son slowed his pace, his gaze locked on the forest to our right, his eyes clearly following something out of our line of sight. App, more concerned with his proximity to the son, than whatever the son was tracking, hardly noticed a large, black creature exiting the tree line on all fours just off to his right. The creature walked on its rear feet and the knuckles of its front hands, similar to your gorillas, however, rose up to its full height, standing on just its feet as it made its way on to the path. Thick, short hair hung all over the exposed portions of its body, with broad shoulders, large biceps, and forearms that would make Popeye jealous. A soft leathery skin was visible on its face, stomach and fingers, while defined muscles rose up its broad V-shaped back, fading into large trapezius muscles at the base of its neck. The front of the creature had deeply defined abdominal lines and sculpted pectoral muscles supporting the broad shoulders. Gentle brown eyes radiated a searching contemplation. The hair from around his head and neck were pulled back into two long, thick braids, one of which rested on each shoulder like an ancient American Indian warrior. A simple, light brown bag clung tightly to his barrel-like chest, held in place by a flat band extending diagonally from the bag over one shoulder and around the width of the chest. Though the creature was slightly shorter than the Malakh, the power of a raging bull, yet the wisdom of an observant philosopher radiated from him. He was tangible meekness, controlled strength, clearly capable of extreme violence, yet, capable of controlling it. Despite the power radiating from the creature, there was a tenderness in his facial expressions. Whether startled, terrified, or simply astonished, App stared as the creature walked by him and approached the son. The greeting previously demonstrated at dinner was executed with muscle-memory fluidity, the creature ever careful to ensure it bowed slightly lower than the son.


    The son turned and faced the Malakh, not needing to ask for attention, as all eyes were captivated, and all conversation had already ceased. The son stated, ¡°This is Eli, the leader of the Avopeia, the guardians of the Dynami, and one of the wisest citizens of Doxa.¡± Eli gazed out over the group of Malakh, much like Speaker in the meadow, patiently working through the process of eye contact and a slight nod with each of the Malakh, ending with a gaze ricocheting between me and App. Eli did not speak with us, but simply observed, observed our appearance, our demeanor, our body language. Seemingly content with his assessment, Eli nodded to the son, and slowly, yet purposefully returned to the forest, returning to all four feet as we were last able to glimpse his incredible V-shaped, sculpted back.


    The Chari may or may not have been a chance meeting, this moment with Eli was not. He was clearly aware of when we would be walking from the dinner. His assessment of us was certainly intentional, though I can¡¯t say if it was curiosity on the part of Eli or a request from Speaker himself. Either way, while stoic, Eli had paused longer when observing me and App, though as a veteran poker player, no valuable information could be gleaned from his facial expression.


    As a person speeding past a police officer, not noticing until the last moment, the Malakh appeared apprehensive at the forest around them, almost shocked by the new thought, we were not alone. The birds and small animals were no bother, in fact were incredible to see, however, the sudden appearance of a so-called Avopeia, had left everyone noticeably apprehensive. Not that we assumed we were alone in the forest, but truth be told, I don¡¯t think any of us had considered the possibility we were not. The son, breaking the silence, stepped forward and stated, ¡°There is nothing to fear from Eli or any of the Avopeia for that matter.¡± A coughing, almost gagging sound, came from the front of the group, as App asked, ¡°You mean to tell me there¡¯s more of those out here?¡± The son chuckled and replied, ¡°You will have plenty of time to learn from and speak with Eli and other members of the Avopeia. They are incredibly wise and will be some your instructors.¡±


    App, still the only Malakh to find his voice, quickly asked, ¡°Just to be clear, the beast that just disappeared into the forest will be instructing us? What is it they will be instructing us in? Can they speak?¡±


    The son, as always, perplexingly calm for the situation, chuckled at App and said, ¡°So many questions, yet all will be answered in the proper time. Let us continue on our journey.¡± The remaining Malakh, uncertain of the next step, began to move towards the son. The son turned and continued down the path. As App and I began to follow, the son spun on the balls of his feet, pointed to our right along the tree line, eyes bulging from their sockets, and yelled, ¡°Watch out!¡± App let out a yelp as a dog accidentally getting its foot stepped on, and spun on his heels to face the direction the son had indicated. Sid dropped to the ground, taking a slightly awkward push up position, chin close to the floor. I¡¯d be dishonest if I didn¡¯t say my stomach dropped and my heart ached as I spun to meet the threat. After a quick scan of the area, I turned back to see the son, a sly smirk on his face, just as he began turning back to resume the journey to the quarters of the Malakh.


    The son was so fluid in his motion and statement it took many of the Twelve quite some time to recover. It wasn¡¯t until App started claiming he had not been startled, and the cry out was simply a warning to all of us to be on the lookout for anything nefarious, that the rest of us relaxed and began to enjoy the moment.


    We continued down the path, deeper and deeper into the forest of Doxa. There were innumerable living creatures both animal and vegetation, each a life force of its own, each resounding with beauty and creativity, each yearning to display the glory of Speaker. As we walked around a relatively sharp right hand turn I began to hear the sound of water. Not the tyrannical rush of a mountain river overcome by snow melt, nor the slow, methodical trickle of a creek lost in a meadow, but that of a healthy river, teeming with life. Another turn, now to the left, and we found ourselves confronted by the breathtaking beauty of a river whose waters elegantly moved over and between the river stones below, water so clear, in places it seemed as if there was no water at all, and full of the abundant life only a river of this beauty could sustain. Fish shockingly similar in appearance to all varieties of your discus, coy, and jewel cichlids swam about, all of which had a faint glow about them, all seemingly giving of their life force back to the waters.


    As we walked along the river, the son stooped down, slowly allowing four fingers of his left hand to gently divert the water, leaving a momentary eloquent trail, only to be swallowed back into the motion of the river as it traveled on. Without looking up at us or speaking to anybody in particular, he said, ¡°This is the River Zoe, the great river of Doxa. It moves at different speeds and strengths throughout Doxa, but its beauty and life force remain the same.¡±


    This river was much like your Nile, Amazon, or Mississippi, life giving, beautiful, a hallmark of the land it flows through, and a guide to all who sought it. We followed the path along the river until it began to widen, eventually transitioning from dirt to compacted rock, and last to neatly laid paver stones. The stones were simple rectangles, about eight inches in width and four inches in length, however, there was no mistaking the precision of the cut and placement of these stones. At last the River Zoe bent to the right and our path obediently followed suit. As we made the turn, our journey came to an abrupt end. We had arrived at our quarters, the son didn¡¯t have to say a word, we just knew.¡±

 The Value of Quarters

    ¡°The path, an inability to make up its mind, split in two, one half continuing along the river, the other gently approaching a wooden deck silently holding the perimeter around a two-story structure built of a material similar in appearance to limestone. The wood deck was a deep brown, cut and sanded smooth, soft to the touch. The structure it surrounded was built with an off-white, intricately cut, array of blocks, each fit together with laser-like precision. It formed a wrap-around porch to the block structure, creating a simple, yet ornate design as though one of your farmhouses mated with an ancient Greek temple and this building was the result. An almost imperceivable buzz or glow vibrated from the structure''s stone. The Zoe River continued along the left side, and another meadow, though without the stone structure or peculiar Ruach substance of the original meadow, sat to the right. Over the top of the structure you could see several Dynami standing watch to the rear. Ornately carved wooden doors of a deep brown, finely polished wood marked the entrance. The paver stone path quietly approached the wooden deck, mysteriously blending into the latter. The son followed the path and approached the front door before pausing and turning to wave us in as an enthralled realtor would show a house to a client.


    The son opened the door and entered followed closely by App, though not too close of course. I followed App with the rest of the Malakh behind me. Upon entering the structure we found ourselves in a living room with a large rectangular table in the middle of it and a variety of seating around the edge of the room. The walls were the same precisely cut limestone-type blocks. Immediately to the right of the doorway was a switchback staircase. Further back was a very large circular dining room table with twelve chairs, and beyond the table was a kitchen area. The son advised these would be our shared living quarters for the time being, and our personal spaces would be located upstairs, indicating we should follow him up the stairs. At the top of the stairs was a long hallway with three doors on each side, and one door at the end of the hallway, making seven rooms total upstairs. The son pointed to the first door on the right and called out, ¡°App, Mik¡±, the second door on the right and called out, ¡°Tabi, Raf¡±, and the third door on the right and said, ¡°Uriah, Ragg.¡± The son, circling back to the first door on the left, stated, ¡°Zera, Sal¡±, then pointed to the second door on the left and stated, ¡°Sid, Koka¡± and indicating the last door on the left, stated, ¡°Ram, Asa.¡± The son stared, ¡°These are your quarters and roommates for the foreseeable future. The seventh door is not to be opened until the proper time. Make yourselves at home. I will be back to retrieve you soon to begin your training.¡±


    App, as usual, was quick to ask, ¡°What training might this be?¡± The son, smirking, responded, ¡°Oh, you¡¯ll see soon enough young App.¡± App appeared to be taken aback at being referenced as ¡°young App¡± though he did not respond. The son moved past the Malakh in the hallway, and disappeared down the stairs without any further communication.


    In a short period of time, if time had been measurable yet, the Twelve had traversed being spoken, encountering Speaker, his son, Ruach, our first meal, Dynami, Chari, Avopeia, the River Zoe, and yet now the walls of the hallway pressed in with awkwardness at the simplicity of the moment as we stood alone, just the Twelve, in a rather small space and no guidance as to the next step.


    App standing slightly to the left and ahead of me looked over his shoulder, our eyes locking not unlike magnets, before he turned to look at the other ten. All eyes were on us, all eyes were on him. Shrugging, he stepped across my path, turned the polished gray metal knob, and without further hesitation entered the room. I began to follow him, though the side of my head could nearly feel the burn of ten sets of eyes waiting to receive direction. I awkwardly motioned at the other doors in the hallway to which each of the remaining Twelve began slowly moving towards. Sid stopped as he drew even with me and asked, ¡°Which one was mine again?¡± I indicated with a simple point of my index finger to the middle room on the left. Once I was sure each of the remaining ten had made it to their proper quarters, I turned back and entered my quarters.


    The room had green vines with a water-like substance intertwining itself within it, not attached, nor separated, floating along the corners of the ceiling where crown molding might be located. There were two windows overlooking the empty meadow on the far side of the room. Between the two windows was a beautifully carved wooden bookshelf, sanded and polished to an incredibly fine finish with intricate carvings all around the shelves, though I did not understand any of the symbols. The shelves, while large, had many small cubbies within them. App stood at the shelves staring, apparently lost in thought, or perhaps simply confused, or perhaps just counting the shelves. The top row of the shelves contained beautiful scrolls, fortified by beautiful, golden cornua, intricately inscribed with mysterious symbols, and superbly ordained with electrifying green emeralds. App turned to look at me stating, ¡°There¡¯s seven rows, each row has eleven cubbies, but only the first row has scrolls. What do you think the other shelves are for?¡± Initially I had no answer, though as I slowly processed the scene before me, a simple thought came, which I spoke out loud, ¡°Maybe the scrolls of the other shelves haven¡¯t been written yet?¡± App turned back to look at me with a smirk and said, ¡°Do you always think so slowly?¡± Before he finished his sentence I immediately responded, ¡°Do you always speak before thinking?¡±


    We both let out a hearty laugh as App ran his fingers along the symbols carved into the shelves, clearly already moving on from the quip. He walked to the left of the shelves and stood before the window, a large nook jutted forth from the wall producing an obvious place to sit. A lush cushion rested upon the nook, inviting one to sit or kneel in comfort, affording the occupant an opportunity for extended occupation without the distraction of discomfort. A matching nook was found to the right of the shelves. App, following the right angle of the wall to the left, found a desk with a large, dark brown, wooden chair with a lush cushion embedded into the seat and back, and large ornately carved arm rests jutting forth from the frame. The desk, void of anything besides blank parchment and a quill, though notably no ink, exuded laborious study. The wood yearned for the turning of pages, the rolling of parchment, and the depths of contemplation. As I turned to the right, I noticed a similar, if not identical desk.The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    My eyes followed the path of the wall, moving beyond the desk, and leading back to the door we had entered. In each of the hard corners stood an armor stand of a deep, dark brown wood, polished to a fine finish, completely naked and free of any burdens, though it deeply desired to fill its role of supporting such a crucial instrument of war. On the wall, behind the armor stand and closest to the door we had entered, large, intricately carved wooden hooks were placed. The hooks were empty, though an incredibly faint, empty glow radiated from the wall just behind the hooks. As I stared at the glow, it seemed it was in the shape of a two-edged sword, though it pulsed in an unidentifiable pattern, making it difficult to confirm. Above the pulsing outline of the sword was an odd curved shape with a thin rigid line connecting each end of the curve. This too pulsed, making the actual shape difficult to identify. Finally, our eyes, perplexed by the journey of the room, returned to the door we had entered through. Our quarters appeared so simple, yet an incredible depth, or better yet, an incredible future story seemed to echo from it.


    App approached the armor stand in the left corner, arms folded across his chest, clearly uncertain of what to make of it. He circled the stand once, twice, and just before the third pass moved one hand to his chin while coming to a pause, feet slightly more than shoulder-width apart. He turned to look at me, stating, ¡°What do you think? I understand this is to hold armor for war, though I¡¯m not entirely sure what war is. It¡¯s almost as though a vague, clouded memory of the purpose of armor or depth of war exists deep within my mind, while I¡¯m fairly certain war itself has never happened.¡± I stared at the stand in the corner I had moved to, appreciating the gravity of App¡¯s words. Even one as confident as he seemed to be processing the depravity and the cost of war, the purpose of armor, the protection it afforded it¡¯s wearer, and of the highest importance, what it protected against. While the stands were undoubtedly of the highest quality of materials and design, they did not seem designed to hold a great deal of weight. They seem form-fitted to hold a lighter more efficient armor than any knight of your medieval times, or devout samurai warriors. As I processed the stand, App moved beyond the stand in front of him and to the wall. His fingers ran along the pulsing edges of the outline of the sword, the pulse seeming to grow in brightness and stability, as if the power source had been stabilized. He too seemed to notice the shift and moved his hand to the curved shape, the shape matching the behaviors of the previous. The curve, now glowing with only a faint pulse was the outline of an incredibly ornate bow, a clearly ranged weapon of war. The outline of the curvature seemed to indicate an intricate design that moved beyond the shape of a simple bow, with a clearly identified handle to grip, arched shapes bending off the handle into a faded design, undecipherable without further stability or increased brightness.


    He continued to stare at the shape, though began to speak, ¡°Mik, these two shapes, are they not weapons of devastation? Are they not capable of harming another?¡± He looked up, his face unreadable, uncertain of what he was even asking, though not necessarily apprehensive or even cautious. I responded, ¡°I don¡¯t know App, it¡¯s hard not to feel like we are standing before something that will become an integral part of both of our lives, for better, or perhaps, for worse.¡± App nodded solemnly, not excited, though not sad. The moment was not lost on either of us, and as we both looked up from the stands and our eyes met, we nodded at each other, knowing whatever objects these stands were meant to hold were not only going to be part of our lives as individuals, they would also be an intimate part of our friendship. At this point, there was no way for either of us to know or understand what the future held, but our connection would be deeply rooted in the stands and pulsing glow before us.


    App¡¯s hand on his chin slowly falling to his side, pivoted on the balls of his feet and absently walked towards the door. Heading back into the hallway he was met by Sid who stated, ¡°Did yours have all the empty boxes on the wall?¡± With a completely straight face, and an aura of near annoyance, App responded, ¡°You mean the cubbies designed to hold additional scrolls?¡± Sid quickly quipped, ¡°What do you¡­¡±, before trailing off, as he realized each room had the same setup, and the cubbies were clearly designed to hold scrolls similar to the ones on the top row. App looked down at the floor, shaking his head, allowing a smile and light chuckle to escape into the hallway.


    The hallway began to fill with additional Malakh, fresh off the exploration of their new quarters. The crowd began to shuffle towards the stairs as App suddenly paused, mind clearly elsewhere, he turned and pushed through the crowd of Malakh back down the hallway, not worried about the others in even the slightest. He approached the seventh door, the one at the end of the hall, curiosity clearly raging. He stared at the door, slowly pacing back and forth, even reaching for the handle twice, before pulling away prior to contact. An epic battle was clearly being waged in App''s mind. The pacing came to a sudden stop as he squared up to the door, his mind evidently decided. The hallways had grown noticeably silent, all eyes on App, all minds on the word of the Speaker¡¯s son.


    The deafening silence was ripped apart by a voice from the stairway, ¡°Did you all find your quarters satisfactory?¡± App jerked slightly upward at the sound of the voice, the desire of curiosity temporarily extinguished by the voice of Speaker¡¯s son as he parted the crowd, moving towards App. While the son clearly understood what he had interrupted, the words never escaped his lips, and a simple look at App, followed by a look at the seventh door, told everyone what they needed to know. App had not overstepped in action, though the toes of his mind had dangled over the edge. The son looked at App specifically, asking, ¡°Were your quarters satisfactory?¡± App simply nodded, clearly shaken at being caught in a near poor decision. The son turned to look at me and asked, ¡°And you Mik, were you satisfied?¡± I solemnly nodded, unable to shed the feeling the son had somehow expected me to be more involved in discouraging App from contemplating a poor decision.


    The son smiled that love-filled, radiating smile at me before splitting the sea of Malakh, and heading back down the stairs. He did not say anything further, however, we fell in line, once again, two by two. We gathered in the living room on the first floor near the door we had originally entered into the residence through. The son once again reminded us we should make ourselves at home in our new quarters, attend meals as often as needed or desired, and begin to make our life in Doxa. The son began, turning towards the door, lifting his hand in the air, and motioning we should all follow him. As he exited the threshold he stated, ¡°To the great city of Doxa we go! You will meet your instructors, while also getting to experience the great city.¡± We prepared for yet another world of unknown.

 The City

    While the hallway had created a measure of chaos, the typical pairings had once again naturally formed amongst the Malakh as they began filing out of the quarters. I sidestepped just prior to the door, waiting for App to pass. As he approached we made eye contact and I made a subtle sideways jerking motion with my head indicating I desired App to step aside as well. His eyes never left mine as he stepped to the side, and before I could say a word he stated, ¡°I wasn¡¯t going to actually open the door, stop looking at me like that.¡± I silently observed his facial features, and while I did not detect any deception in his features or tone, I couldn¡¯t help but feel that wasn¡¯t the complete truth. I responded, ¡°I¡¯m not saying you were or you were not, but I do believe it is fair to ask. While we don¡¯t yet understand the full purpose of the Twelve, I do know you and I have been told we are expected to lead, and more importantly I know Speaker and his son have placed a higher measure of trust in the two of us than all others. Our actions are already closely watched by the others, and we shouldn¡¯t take that lightly.¡± A flash of irritation, swift as lightning, appeared across his face, only to vanish even quicker. If I hadn¡¯t been intently watching I would have missed it. App smiled and responded, ¡°You¡¯re right brother, I¡¯m sorry. Thank you for caring enough to challenge me in this.¡± He then led the way to the door and without further conversation we headed out the door.


    The Malakh had once again fallen in line behind the son, who was standing at the entrance to the path continuing along the previously traveled path, guided by the great River Zoe and all of her intricacies. The son was facing forward, his chin raised slightly in the air, as he breathed deeply, allowing the beauty around him and the sound of the river to captivate his mind. He was ready to begin the journey, though the other ten Malakh held fast, facing our quarters, clearly waiting on us, and more noticeably ensuring a gap had been left between the son and the rest of the Malakh. App may have felt confident in the role of leading, the role of being respected by others, and it wasn¡¯t until later conversations he would actually allude to this, but I never felt at home in this space. Without hesitation, App stepped out of the threshold, walked past the others and took his place behind the son while I slowly followed, the sensation of ten sets of eyes following my steps, waiting to be led.


    We silently took our place behind the son, without turning to see if all of the Twelve including App and myself were ready, the son began walking, still appearing distracted by the sight of beauty and sound of tranquility. He is truly an interesting being, the son that is, and this moment highlighted it. While he undoubtedly knew what App had been considering back in the quarters, knew we had a private conversation, knew the rest of the Malakh had awaited our return, and had left us a place in the front, he seemed more interested, or perhaps more appreciative of the beauty around him.


    The journey this time, while still accompanied by the crystal clear waters of the River Zoe, and the Dynami standing post, was significantly shorter. The path danced a beautiful routine with the river, creating a tranquil atmosphere dominated by the sounds of rushing water, birds chirping, and the nearly inaudible sounds of feet making their way down a dirt path. After several more bends the dirt path took a departing bow making way for a finely built path of what appeared to be machine-cut stone blocks, perfectly cut to match their adjoining partner. The edges of the path were immaculately adorned with bushes full of all types of brightly colored fruit, to which the son would occasionally bend over, pluck a cluster and snack on them while the procession continued. Seeing the son do it first, the rest of the Malakh followed in kind. The fruits were vibrant blues and pinks, reds and yellows, oranges and greens, all similar in size to your grapes or perhaps black berries.


    The path took one more bend to the right before we all came to a slow, eye-crossing, mind-bending halt. Just in front of the son were three ornately cut stone steps, and at the top of the steps a new type of material began, still arranged in perfectly cut blocks. The material looked similar to your gold, though more translucent. We would later learn it actually was partially gold combined with other Doxa materials. While the blocks making the path were solid material, there was a certain life about them. One could almost feel a life force or energy permeating from them into the air around. The River Zoe and the now vibrant path continued, bending to the left. We followed the path and noticed what appeared to be the edge of a tree line up ahead, the Dynami suddenly coming to a halt. The River Zoe poured into a vast body of crystal-clear water, with a slightly blue tint, the path turned to the right continuing along the shore of the great body of water. The body of water wore a belt of unnaturally white sand extending around its perimeter in both directions. On our left, an ornate bridge of perfectly cut white limestone blocks with the same golden blocks inlaid into the path allowed the traveler to pass over the River Zoe and continue along the shores to the left. The son indicated with his hand we would be following the path to the right.


    As we just began following the curve to the right, placing the white sand beach on our left and the resolute Dynami tree line on our right, a gasp came from behind us. Tabi spoke up shouting, ¡°Look!¡± We all followed the direction of his outstretched arm pointing ahead. The path we were traveling on continued to travel around the vast body of water but up ahead stood what appeared to be a bridge, though it looked to be so wide the word bridge simply did not suffice. In the very middle of the bridge stood what would appear to you as a lighthouse. The bridge forked at the base of the lighthouse, continuing around each side of the lighthouse before joining back together and continuing into the distance. The design of the bridge encompassing the lighthouse shocked the mind and yet soothed heart. The architecture flowed so well, was so intricately crafted, like an expert jeweler crafting the perfect ring, every portion flowing perfectly.


    As one approached a mountain and it only seems to grow with each step closer, the lighthouse grew. The height and sheer magnitude of the structure was breathtaking. We continued walking along the path, eventually making the left turn onto the bridge and faced the lighthouse directly. A low murmur circulated amongst the Malakh, and App asked nobody in particular, ¡°Who could build such a structure?¡± The son did not turn, but a brief glimpse of the side of his face showed he was grinning. While the lighthouse loomed in the near distance, the bridge itself had become a momentary distraction. Now that we stood on it, the golden stone path sure flowed with some type of energy or essence, or perhaps a life force itself. The golden blocks of the road were inlaid into the stone of the bridge. It was crafted of blocks similar to the quarters, a shockingly white limestone cut to the precision of a diamond, but upon closer observation, I realized the stones were horizontal mountains themselves. I began counting my steps out loud attempting to grasp the sheer length, each was over 100 feet long. The blocks were taller than me, making each stone of this bridge almost twice as large as the largest stone your people have ever attempted to cut. From the entrance of the bridge to the lighthouse, three of these blocks were laid, one after the other, on each side of the golden block road. The incredible stones were not simply cut in a long rectangle but precisely cut with the top of the block protruding out all the way down the stone and a shelf underneath this. Deep green vines wove down the length of the stone, clinging to the stone as an infant koala to its mother. Between the top protrusion and the shelf beneath, the same peculiar water-like substance that had flowed around the top of the dinner table pillars flowed. Perhaps the vines took nourishment from this substance or perhaps this substance served an alternative purpose. We did not know. Below the shelf were intricately cut windows allowing a view out over the water. Each window was perfectly cut and perfectly spaced from the previous and next.


    The bridge had been so wide the line we had been in had long since dissolved like a child¡¯s soccer match and we found ourselves in an awkward, disheveled pack, some of us ahead of the others. Momentarily allowing my eyes to break from the looming lighthouse, I noticed Asa, one of the Twelve, lingering further back than the rest. His hands were running from the cuts at the protrusion near the top of the stone walls of the bridge, to the shelf containing the water-like substance, the vines that followed, and the moment the stone blended into the blocks of the road itself. I stopped walking and moved back to Asa, asking, ¡°What do you think?¡± Asa startled, having not even noticed my presence, as he came out of a trance-like state, simply stared. As a student caught daydreaming in class he responded, ¡°Huh, did you say something?¡± Chuckling, I asked again, ¡°What do you think?¡± Asa, as a student having the opportunity to have the question repeated said, ¡°I¡¯m not entirely sure what to make of this, and I suppose once we receive training it will make more sense, but these blocks, this bridge, they don¡¯t appear to be cut with tools. I am finding I have an affinity for all of this architecture, from the dinner table, to the quarters and now this, it fascinates me. I truly hope I am given the opportunity to learn more. There¡¯s also these little triangles imprinted on each stone. Peculiarly none of the triangles have a point, but are flat where the points should be.¡± As I looked closer at the blocks, I realized he was right. There were little point-free triangles on each block, no visible tool marks along the length of the stones, and the places where the larger stones met, or the stones blended with the blocks of the road were so precisely cut, even a piece of paper could not have fit between. Smiling, I clapped my hand on his shoulder and told him, ¡°I¡¯m not sure what the future holds, Asa, but I certainly hope these observation skills are only the beginning of your study of architecture.¡± He nodded and proceeded slowly down the bridge, as a child not wanting to miss a single toy in the toy store.


    Leaving Asa to his thoughts, I walked quickly and caught back up with App, whose attention had become fixed at the tip of the lighthouse. The precise cuts of the immense stones, the intricacy of the vines, the sacredness of the water-like substance all quickly paled as we neared the lighthouse. As we neared the base we noticed the circular shape was not made of small individual blocks but each layer was made of two of the same blocks that had been used on the edge of the bridge. Eyebrows furrowed, App turned to look at me about the same time I noticed, staring, ¡°The stones.¡± We had both noticed, each layer of blocks of the lighthouse were made of two of the same massive stones from the bridge, however, they were each bent to form a half circle. Each layer looked to be about ten feet in height, and as the layers rose they were just slightly more compact, making the top of the light house thinner than the base. From a distance the top of the lighthouse had appeared to have some type of roof structure standing guard over a bright light, however, now that we stood in the presence of this mighty structure we realized it was not a light at all, but a vibrant blue energy with a life of its own. A slow motion electrical storm contained by an invisible shield, and yet somehow radiating out from the peak. The vibrant, yet soft blue was not unlike the energy that seemed to emit from the golden path and other structures we had encountered. As App and I craned our necks to stare at the ball of energy, I began counting the layers. The son turned, looked at me and said, ¡°The stone portion is 808 feet, six inches tall, each layer is ten feet, six inches. The blocks framing the outside the bridge are each 115 feet, six inches in length.¡± The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    I stood, mesmerized by the sheer size of the structure, now captivated by the master craftsmanship as pointed out by Asa, and unable to even respond to the son. App, asked, ¡°What is it for? While we are surrounded by water, a lighthouse this size doesn¡¯t seem to make much sense.¡± The son, as if he had never considered the idea, turned to look up at the lighthouse, eyebrows furrowed, looked back at App, and said, ¡°Oh young App, so much to learn, so many voids in your knowledge.¡± App, a sliver of irritation creeping into his face and into his tone responded, ¡°I¡¯m not following.¡± The son, either not noticing the irritation, or more likely not acknowledging it responded, ¡°This is not a lighthouse, not in the sense you are thinking of anyways. This is a bearak spire.¡±


    From behind us a voice, as a starter pistol at the beginning of a race, cracked off far louder than intended, asked, ¡°A what?!¡± App and I started, turning quickly to see a now bashful Asa, who had clearly inserted himself into the conversation, shifting quickly from the lighthouse to the son to App. The son, allowing for a hearty laugh, partially at the startled look on our faces and partially at the sheepish grin on Asa¡¯s face stated, ¡°This is a bearak spire. Bearak is the power source for all the land of Doxa. You will learn far more about it in your training soon, but safe to say bearak is all around us, though certain structures and items can contain, control, or in the case of the spire, extend the range and strength of the bearak from its original source. It provides energy and strength amongst other uses, which like I said, you will learn about soon enough.¡±


    The Malakh sat in momentary silence, processing this new information, all staring up at the spire, specifically the condensed bearak at the top. I turned to look at Asa, watching the spark in his mind twinkle through his eyes as they made their way to the golden blocks we stood upon, where they focused intensely. ¡°Is the faint blue glow within the walls of the bridge and the gold-colored blocks under our feet also bearak?¡±


    As someone standing on fiery coals we all immediately began shifting our feet looking underneath, our minds traveling down the road of Asa¡¯s theory. The son responded, ¡°Very good, Asa! It is in fact in everything around us, some materials certainly contain more than others, while some materials are far more conductive than others of course.¡± Pure admiration washed over Asa¡¯s face, enthusiastic understanding, and a desire for deeper knowledge radiated from his eyes. He said, ¡°I would very much like to learn more about bearak and these structures, sir.¡± The son clapped Asa on the shoulder while smiling, stating, ¡°None of this sir nonsense, master Asa, that is reserved for my father, and you most certainly shall! Now, onward we march, we mustn¡¯t keep him waiting. He is patient, but each moment spent learning from him is a treasure.¡±


    The son continued forward moving around the right side of the spire. App, still straining his neck to observe the bearak floating at the top of the spire, found himself walking around to the left. Sid, Asa, Koka, and Ram followed App to the left, while I and the remaining Twelve fell in behind the son. As we journey around the spire I noticed a ring of vibrant green grass with scattered Dynami continued off to our right, landing at what appeared to be another bridge, and a now easily identifiable bearak spire. Once we had completed the journey around the curve, we met up with the rest of the Twelve on the backside of the great spire. Off to our left there was a twin bend, full of grass and Dynami, matching the one we had observed to the right, ending with another bearak spire.


    As my attention returned to our current path, I realized the bridge continued forth from the backside of the spire, identical to the bridge we had just crossed, the same point-free triangles were imprinted on each block. This bridge led to a wall. To say this was a magnificent wall feels like saying a Texas sunset was ok, not even close to a fair description. We continued across this second bridge, approaching the wall, another body of water off to our right and left. At the end of the bridge the path divided into three paths each leading to a gate embedded in the wall. The wall, from afar, appeared to be made of a gray and brown rock-like material. As we closed the distance, we saw the walls were far more spectacular than the bridge or even the spires. The walls were of a cyclopean nature similar to the walls found at your Sacsaywaman in Peru. Incredibly carved stones fit together in a perfectly intricate way, yet, not in the standard linear fashion commonly associated with walls. The walls appeared alive, vibrant blues, reds, and yellows coursed through them making one feel they had a lifeforce of their own. The son stood at the fork of the three paths momentarily, before turning to greet us with a smile. Three banners hanging from the walls behind him with the same point-free triangle in a vibrant royal blue inlaid over a pure white background appeared to shout from behind him. The son announced, ¡°This is the great city of Doxa. These walls define the outermost perimeter, standing at 216 feet high above ground, twelve feet thick, with twelve layers of foundation behind them. The city is a perfect square, with three gates on each side that never close. Yes, that is bearak coursing through them, amongst other matter which you will learn about soon enough.¡± While App and I remained stoic, the rest of the Twelve appeared overwhelmed at the magnificence before us, and young Asa was beside himself, completely overwhelmed.


    The son turned towards the city, waving his hand, indicating we should follow, and headed towards the central gate directly in front of us. The gate loomed over us as a human standing over a grasshopper, a massive arch made of the same material as the cyclopean walls, though intricately cut into rectangles to build a beautiful, rounded arch. Passing under the arch, as one seeing the Grand Canyon for the first time, we were completely overwhelmed at the realization, each of these cyclopean blocks used to build the wall were the width of the entire wall. Looking up as we were in the middle of the archway, I saw the massive gate itself, held within a cutout in the ceiling above. Wide enough to fill the entire space of the archway, what appeared to be a solid, dazzling, off-white substance, similar to your pearls, made the gate a truly spectacular piece of craftsmanship, even without being able to see the totality of it.


    We followed the son, passing through the other end of the archway and entering the city proper. I found myself standing next to a paused son, App on the opposite side, and the Twelve fanning out on both sides of us. All were silent. Your language does not have the words to explain what stood before us, but I shall try. A vast, open land stood before us, the wall stood as a resolute sentry around the perimeter, more magnificent than the outside. In the center of the space stood a massive structure, while unable to tell the shape due to the sheer size and the angle of our view, it appeared to be a triangle, once again, without points. The two sides I could see had twelve pillars each, all massive. It wasn¡¯t until later that I was exposed to the true intricacies of this structure. The wall on our left seemed to be more robust with each gate appearing larger than the one we had entered, and the paths running from them seemed wider, as if this were perhaps the main gate to the city. The path from the center gate opened wide from this side, leading directly to one of the flat sides of the triangle shaped structure. The son following my gaze, but seemingly speaking to nobody in particular stated, ¡°That is the north entrance, we have entered from the west. There are similar entrances at each of the cardinal directional points, though the north is considered the primary or main entrance.¡±


    From our position to the right of the triangle-shaped structure stood a pyramid, not unlike your pyramids in Egypt and other places, however, on a far grander scale. This was the pyramid. On initial glance it was four-sided, though on closer inspection it was actually eight-sided, slightly concave on each of the four main sides. It was encased in a dazzling polished limestone-esque material, more elegant than the perfect pearl, more vibrant than the most captivating sapphire. While the stonework appeared to be solid and reflective, an incredible electrifying blue, shifted across multiple shades, and visibly coursed through the stones. The blocks themselves were so large they were visible from this distance, perfectly cut, the base stones at least as large as the stones of the bridges. The capstone of the pyramid appeared to be a different material than the rest. Unlike the solid, reflective material of the base, the capstone was made of a translucent diamond-like material and was clearly a conductor of some type as evidenced by the raging storm of what appeared to be bearak inside.


    A river flowed into the base of the pyramid, though from this distance I could not tell if it entered into the pyramid or not. The water flowed from the southern entrance of the city northward ending at the pyramid. We all sat in silence, processing all that sat before us. The son cut the silence stating, ¡°The River Zoe flows from the outer rings into the pyramid. The pyramid generates bearak that powers not only the city proper, but conducts through the four spires, providing bearak to all of Doxa. The pyramid itself is 1,165 feet, six inches on each side and the angle is 51.5 degrees.¡±


    The architecture, the design, the tangible detail was nearly overwhelming. For Asa, it was overwhelming. As a child being told they could pick any toy in the store, Asa looked overwhelmed, unsure what to ask, and even more unsure where to begin. That said, having been temporarily mesmerized by the structures we had completely missed the natural beauty. All throughout the city were beautiful trees, plants, bushes, and vines, however, most intriguing, they were suspended in the air. Their roots were dirt free and visible in the air, gently wriggling in the air as if absorbing life-giving nourishment directly from the sky itself. They were clustered together in perfectly designed gardens, none of which required soil to be grounded. Waterfalls flowed downward from seemingly nowhere only to descend into a mist-like stream, a light, blue-tinted life source intertwining its way amongst the base of the vegetation. The gardens were incredibly well kept, appearing to be trimmed and molded to a level of aesthetic beauty only a master of design could ever have imagined. As we tapped each other''s shoulders pointing out the beauty of the gardens, the son looked back smiling and said, ¡°Ah yes, the gardens of Doxa. A true masterpiece, an eloquent painting, one only Speaker could have the creativity and love for beauty to produce at this level.¡±


    A small, yet still quite elegant limestone-like structure sat between us and the great triangle structure. The son pointed at the structure and stated, ¡°We are headed there. This is where your education will begin. Follow me and you will begin to receive all the answers you desire, especially you, young master Asa!¡± With a rowdy laugh and joyous hearts, our group followed the son on the final portion of our journey before our education began.¡±

 Fortitude

    Mik took a momentary pause from the story, realizing he had been so far lost in thought and lore he had nearly forgotten he was sitting by a bonfire trading tales with Kai. Kai on the other hand had become so captivated he had forgotten he too sat by a bonfire, on the precipice of what would be the greatest battle he had ever fought in, perhaps the last battle. Kai, noticing the momentary pause, asked, ¡°What was it like?¡± He trailed off, failing to elaborate, as a person asking a question while still developing the thought so often does. Mik, not fully understanding the question, responded, ¡°What do you mean?¡± Kai now having formulated the complete thought stated, ¡°It is so hard for me to understand you being spoken with a certain amount of knowledge, far above any of my people at birth, though also needing to attend school to learn.¡± Mik nodded in the affirmative. ¡°This certainly was how we, the Twelve that is, felt in that time too. The best I can explain is while we had of course just been spoken, much of our knowledge base had already been formed. In many ways that knowledge felt as if much of it was distant memories or prior experiences, though obviously none of it was our own memories, knowledge or experience. It was as if Speaker had not only given us life, but perhaps placed some of his knowledge within us at the time of our speaking. Kai, deeply desiring to understand, though still confused, looked up at Mik and said, ¡°Please continue if you wouldn¡¯t mind.¡±


    Mik saw the confusion with pity and agreed to press forward, ¡°While we had a functional level of knowledge when we were spoken, we required further education and training both at a general level and a specialized level. The best way I can describe it is we needed to fill in the gaps.¡± Kai, still processing, however seemingly making progress towards understanding, nodded, and asked Mik to continue.


    Mik proceeded, ¡°We entered the smaller structure that stood between us and the massive triangle structure, as a teenager might walk the hallways of their first day of high school. There were no other students, and while one of the rooms was very much a standard classroom, many of the rooms were anything but. We followed the son into the standard classroom, stumbling upon four rows of neatly ordered desks and chairs, each hand-carved wood, sanded to a smoothness that begged to be touched. The same point-free triangle was engraved into the back of each chair. A luscious, inviting cushion was embedded into each chair, promising a comfortable seat during extended lessons. Around the top borders of the room life-radiating vines delicately spidered across the walls, accompanied by the same liquid substances, nourishing the vines with no visible object holding it in place. It gave off an aura that the room or perhaps the building as a whole were alive and healthy. Around the walls of the room were cubby-like structures similar to the ones found in the quarters. Most of the cubbies contained scrolls, though one section was noticeably void of any scrolls.


    The son gesturing with an open hand, said, ¡°Sit, sit, please find a seat.¡± App and I took the two middle seats in the front row. Tabi sat in the front chair to my right, Sid found his way to the front chair on App¡¯s left, with the rest of the Twelve falling in behind us. Once everyone was seated, the son began, ¡°Welcome. You are the inaugural class in the school of Doxa. My father would like to say a few words.¡±


    From behind us, a comforting, ¡°Hello and welcome,¡± fell upon us, as Speaker moved from the back of the classroom to the front, robes gently swaying, smile radiating, and a slight twinkle in his eyes. App and I looked at each other, both eyebrows furrowed, silently communicating, there was no way Speaker was in this room when we entered. I immediately turned back to look at the walls. There were no other doors aside from the one we entered. Speaker gently tapped each of our shoulders as he walked by, as if to indicate he was thoroughly enjoying us basking in confusion.


    ¡°Welcome to the inaugural class of the school of Doxa. You will find you are to be the foundation of a great future in Doxa. As members of the Twelve, your ability to learn, retain, and create will come far easier and quicker than any in Doxa, particularly those to come after you. During your education you will each receive a great amount of general knowledge in writing, languages both present and future, healing, agriculture, music, art, science, wisdom, architecture, astronomy, and lastly warfare. You will each also learn and become a subject matter expert, beyond the other Twelve in a given field. Upon completion of your education you will become instructors here at the school. You will serve the Malakh who will be spoken soon, and there will be many. You will be expected to educate, inspire, and lead those placed in your charge, so I encourage you, do not allow yourself to be distracted during your time of education. We expect great things of each of you.¡± Peculiarly, Speaker gestured to his left, our right, where the son stood, though he seemed to acknowledge both his son, and an incredibly ornate, hand carved high-back chair in the corner behind the son. The chair was far superior to any of the chairs at our desks in design, craftsmanship, and polish, and had the same triangle symbol intricately carved into the headrest. App and I looked at the chair, back to Speaker, and back to the chair again. The chair appeared empty as a canteen in the middle of the Sahara desert.


    Speaker continued, ¡°Your primary instructors will be my son, and Eli,¡± who with impeccable timing, moved through the open doorway, a beautiful, dark wooden chest, trimmed with vibrant gold, coursing with what appeared to be bearak in his right arm. For such an incredibly muscular creature, Eli¡¯s ability to move across a floor without producing any sound was incredible, as if his feet never actually made contact with the ground. ¡°They will be joined by a host of adjunct instructors, however, they will be your primary point of contact, and responsible to ensure you receive all necessary knowledge. I will begin the process of speaking more Malakh soon. I bid you well, and will be present for portions of the training.¡± Without further comment Speaker exited the door we had all entered through.


    Eli, never one to waste words, stepped forward, observing the class, and in a soft, deep voice stated, ¡°Rise.¡± Without any further instruction required, we all rose and stood to the right of our desks. Eli, in the same tone said, ¡°Hands out.¡± He shifted the chest from his right hand to his left, the chest seemingly opening without any manipulation. Inside were rows of spheres about the size of golf balls. Each sphere was clear in nature, though a storm visibly raged inside with forked lightning and visible vapor moving about. Eli, smooth as water in a gentle creek, though faster than a pit viper waved his hand over the box and each of the spheres immediately departed the box and nestled into the outstretched hands of the Twelve. I suppose this is one of those moments we should have been disturbed or intrigued, yet, the moment felt as if it was supposed to happen. We each held our position, only to see Eli step to Sid, grab hold of his forearm as Sid held the sphere in front of his eyes, mesmerized by the violence inside. Sid was clearly surprised at the speed of Eli as Eli guided the hand back to the resting position, sphere still in Sid¡¯s hand. No words were exchanged. Sid understood, our first lesson, was to wait.


    Eli returned to the front of the classroom and withdrew a sphere of his own from the soft, brown leather pouch on his chest. ¡°This sphere is the single most important piece of equipment you will receive. It is your lifeline. Do not lose it.¡± Without further dialogue, Eli gently tossed his sphere into his workspace in front of him. The lightning erupted from within, striking Eli in the chest. Instead of flooring Eli, a brilliant, almost translucent ceramic armor began growing from where the lightning had struck. A moment later, the previously hairy, gorilla-like figure of Eli, was now clad as a hero prepared for war. The armor was off-white, translucent, ceramic-like in appearance, with an electrifying blue current coursing through it, undoubtedly bearak. The bearak coursing through the armor gave it a rippling, fish scale-like appearance. Near the neck line, appearing to almost hover within the armor itself, a ghost stamp of the same triangle symbol rested. The armor was compact, tight to Eli¡¯s body, though it did not appear to be restrictive. It fit snugly to his chest and shoulders, ending below his diaphragm, leaving a small gap between the armor and his beltline. His thick, black braids rested gently on the shoulders. The armor stopped at the bottom of his shoulders leaving the biceps and triceps exposed, however, it then continued down his forearms, ending at his wrists. At his waist a belt had appeared with a buckle of an unknown type of forged metal, with the triangle floating within it. His thighs and hamstrings were armor free, though an ornate tassets hung from the belt, royal blue in the center with an off-white trim. Underneath the cloth appeared to be an ultra thin, chainmail skirt hanging loosely, stopping well above the knees, allowing for maximum agility. The armor continued at his knees, shielding his calves and shins, ending at his ankles. Ridges protruded just slightly in perfect places as if designed to protect from incoming strikes. These ridges could be found on the shoulders, diagonally facing inward across the chest and upper back, along the ribs, on the bone side of the forearms, at the front of the shins, and along the sides of the calves. His once soft leather sandals were now replaced with a far more sturdy sandal.


    Despite being shorter than the Malakh, Eli was already an intimidating figure. Nervous, sideways glances proved the addition of the armor had made each of the Twelve incredibly uncomfortable, aside from App perhaps. He had initially appeared interested in Eli¡¯s equipment but was now staring at the sphere in his hand, mind deep in thought. Ripped from his thought, App jolted, having not noticed Eli had extended his hand diagonally towards the ground behind him as if preparing to grab hold of a rolling suitcase. A deep vibration suddenly filled the room, fading as quickly as it started, however, the source of the vibration was abundantly obvious as Eli now held a warhammer. A rectangular metallic block with angled edges, bordered by matte gray metal bands, clearly coursing with bearak, was mounted to a metal handle. The handle was wrapped tightly in dark intersecting leather, with a tether hanging off the end. Eli looked up at the Twelve holding the hammer sideways, speaking of the hammer as if it were alive, said, ¡°This is Fortitude. You will each be issued a weapon of your own at the completion of your education. For now, you will use training weapons.¡±


    If the room was on edge before, the presence of a weapon of Doxa in the hands of Eli petrified the occupants. There were no nervous glances, no weight shifting, just eyes locked on Fortitude. A being that had looked barely above a jungle primate with a leather satchel moments ago was now in full battle attire, but this was not what transfixed all of us. We all remained locked onto the hammer because this shift had occurred from a small sphere in a leather pouch. What else was he capable of?


    Seeing the system overload occurring in our eyes, yet not allowing time for any of us to process, Eli said, ¡°Keep the sphere enclosed in your hand. Follow me,¡± and turned without another word, heading out the door.


    We attempted to follow him out the door, though a traffic jam that would make the freeways of Los Angeles at rush hour jealous occurred at the doorway. Eli had no intention of waiting, in fact he never even looked back. Eventually our fear of Eli won over our egos and we managed to get through the door. We followed Eli across the hallway, through a doorway into another room, chairs formed a perimeter around the room, however there were no desks, or anything else for that matter, just chairs. A second door was already open at the other end of the room, Eli, nowhere to be found. We rushed across the room, poured through the door and found ourselves under an outdoor patio. Down the steps of the patio was a large grass area with a square, limestone platform in the middle. It was a platform, though it was even with the grass. Looking around I realized the school must be a giant square with rooms on the outside and inside of the hallway that wrapped all the way around the building with this courtyard in the middle. Perhaps it was the size of the other structures, or perhaps I hadn¡¯t been paying attention, but this building was significantly larger than what it had appeared from outside.Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Eli stood in the middle of the limestone platform, his brutal war hammer nowhere to be found. He stood facing away from us staring into the sky above. While he was a fair distance away, and none of us heard or saw him yell, that same soft, deep tone reverberated through all of our minds, ¡°Do not keep me waiting.¡±


    All of the Twelve walked quickly to Eli¡¯s position. Before the last of us arrived he said, ¡°Circle,¡± indicating with his right index finger we should make a circle around him facing inward, to which we followed immediately. As a father first instructing his son in the use of a firearm, Eli gave clear, precise instructions, ¡°Do not get ahead of me. Follow my command.¡± The moment he received a nod in the affirmative from each of us Eli said, ¡°Gently toss your sphere into your work space, approximately one foot from your face. Now.¡± Without hesitation, App and I both tossed our spheres in front of us. Identical to what we had witnessed earlier with Eli, the corked lightning exploded from within the sphere striking us in the chest. Initially, fear raged within me. Regret and anxiety flooded my mind preparing for immense pain or worse, the unknown. The pain never came. Instead, an armor begging to be admired began molding around my body, and to my side I could see App working through the same experience as the triangle symbol formed on my chest. The others, seeing the results with App and I, followed suit.


    Moments later, the Twelve stood in a circle, on a limestone platform, surrounded by grass, growing within school walls, seated in the heart of the city of Doxa, forever changed by this Doxian armor. The bearak cycled through the armor at extraordinary speed. I flexed my biceps, looking at my fist, stood on my toes to flex my calves, and looked around me to see the others doing the same. This armor was not only hosting bearak, but it functioned as a conductor of sorts. I could feel the bearak riding my veins like a roller coaster.


    A reverberating blast yelled, ¡°Malakh,¡± and in the fragile fraction of a second after the bellowing war cry, a soft, yet once again, deep tone said, ¡°Defend yourselves.¡±


    Violence erupted all around us. Multiple Malakh were now mere crash sites in the grass just off the platform, none of us even sure how they had been sent there. A blur moved about the remaining Malakh, and if it weren¡¯t for two black ponytails contrasted to light colored armor, there would be no way to identify the assailant. A fist found Tabi¡¯s jawline off to my right, sending him, unconscious, to the grass off the platform. Raf, Uriah, and Zera attempted to stand shoulder to shoulder only to find Raf being struck with a crushing Thai kick, sending him through the other two, all ending in a pile on the grass. Koka and Sid, attempting to capitalize on the momentary seemingly exposed position left by the instructor following the kick, found themselves receiving an overhand elbow strike, followed by a spinning back fist, dispensing both from the platform.


    App, Ram, Ragg, and I found ourselves to be the only four left. For all the knowledge we had received at our speaking, hand to hand combat was not part of it. The four of us attempted to approach Eli all at once. Eli feigned another Thai kick at Ragg, only to move in a complete blur from in front of Ragg to his left side. Reaching behind Ragg, he grabbed hold of his long braids held together in a ponytail, dropped to one knee, savagely yanking him backwards to the ground. As Eli pulled Ragg down, App lashed out with his own attempted kick. Eli spun on his knee, meeting force with force, delivering a heel palm strike to App¡¯s shin, a deafening crack of thunder echoed over the courtyard, sending App careening off the platform. Ram, a true behemoth of a being, muscles layered on top of muscles, charged forward as a bull charging a matador, only for Eli to sidestep in a blurry motion, kick Ram''s feet out from underneath him and send him sliding head first off the stage.


    I suppose it makes for a suspenseful story to remind you I was the last on the platform. Seeing how quickly the others had been dispatched, I was in no hurry to subject myself to Eli¡¯s will. Unfortunately I did not have a choice as Eli quickly moved towards me, his feet yet again not making a sound, almost as if they weren¡¯t touching the ground at all. In a mode of panic I attempted to strike him with my right fist, like a schoolyard amateur fight. As if my strike was no more than a minor nuisance, Eli shuffle stepped into my strike, meeting my bicep with his forearm, and wrapping my bicep with his arm. He moved his inside leg past mine, and with the ball of his foot ever so gently gliding back towards his body, the base of his calf gracefully drove into the base of mine, sending me to my back as if I had fallen off a cliff.


    The technique was so smooth it almost felt slow, yet my back was the one nearly shattering limestone, and worse yet, Eli was the one standing in the middle of the platform as if attending a bird watching tour, silent, calm, and undisturbed. By the time he had eloquently driven my spine into the limestone the others had started to awaken, some even checking to make sure the injuries weren¡¯t too catastrophic.


    Eli silently slid to the center of the platform. All of us were now teetering on a knife¡¯s edge, unsure where to move or what to say. The soft, deep voice of Eli murmured, ¡°Malakh, circle.¡± Reluctantly the other Malakh stepped on the platform. The moment the last foot completed the circle Eli whispered, ¡°Defend yourselves.¡± Yet again, violence split the serenity of the courtyard, and moments later every member of the Twelve found themselves lying on the grass, only to be met with, ¡°Malakh, circle.¡±


    App and I, from the comfort of the grass, looked at each other, neither sure where to even begin. We nodded, signaling neither had any intent to quit, and stepped back onto the platform, again, and again, and again. Each time we stepped on the platform it felt as if we could apply some of the techniques Eli had applied on previous rounds, but for every technique we learned, he had a counter, and a counter to the counter. App and I no longer attacked or defended as individuals, but always together. Sadly there is no time in Doxa, for this first training session carried on for a truly mind-numbing amount of time.


    After yet another, ¡°Malakh, circle,¡± I finally spoke up. One hand raised, the other on my knee, exhausted, chest heaving, I breathed, ¡°Wait! There has to be more to this. There has to be a better way.¡±


    It was gone before it started, but to this day I believe I saw a glimmer of a smile echo across Eli¡¯s face. Standing back to his full height, Eli walked off the platform, and just before entering the door we had come through, said, ¡°Follow.¡± We were all exhausted but we scrambled after him.


    We exited the school, heading back to the west gate we had entered the city of Doxa through. The walls, the gates, the archways, the roads, the spires in the distance, all yearned to be admired, all stood in proud admiration of their designer. Instead of continuing back down the bridge we had traveled over we turned right, walking along the path on the outside of the walls. We walked in silence, Eli never turning back to see if we had all followed him. By my count the Twelve were all present, albeit exhausted. We journeyed on the path, the waters from the canals created by the River Zoe on our left, the great walls of Doxa on our right. We eventually passed the northern gate, the main entrance. It was a much grander scale of the western gate, though we did not enter it, but continued onward. We eventually arrived at the eastern gate. The gate was identical to the western gate, including a great bridge leading away, an imposing spire, bearak coursing at its peak, a ring of land full of Dynami branching off the spire, and channels of water between. It was here Eli turned left and walked down the bridge, heading away from the city, away from the known.


    At the other end of the bridge a great countryside sprawled before them. The bridge ended at a high point atop a hill overlooking the countryside, the majority of the countryside descending into a lush green valley, the River Zoe visible down in its center. Prior to the descent into the valley a large stone sat. There was no path heading east, there was no golden road, or incredible structures, just open lands. Eli walked forward and took a seat on the rock overlooking the valley, breathing deeply, slowly, absorbing the beauty, his armor untarnished despite the day''s training, his braids still perfectly in order. The picture before us was serene, while also a glimpse of the future in some ways. The Twelve held fast, uncertain as to their next step. Eli eventually turned to face them, waving them all in closer with his hand, then palm facing down indicated they should all sit.


    Eli began, ¡°You are the protectors of Doxa, the leaders of the Malakh, and council to Speaker. You must be able to think under duress. You will find your power far exceeds anything you can imagine, including my own, however, you must learn to be wise and master it. Today, you continued round after round, no thought of trying anything different, no thought of asking questions.¡± Eli stood up saying, ¡°App, step forward.¡± As App stood and moved forward Eli said, ¡°Instead of hoping that armor protects you, I want you to breathe deep and envision you protecting it. I want you to allow the bearak to not only move through your being, but I want you to harness it.¡± App stepped forward and stood on the rock, overlooking the valley. He closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. His armor began to glow, the electric nature of the bearak appearing to burn like fire. I went next and one at a time we each stood on the rock, meditating for the first time, and allowing for the bearak to be harnessed in our cores.


    As the last of the Twelve stood upon the rock, a soft, deep voice said, ¡°Malakh, circle.¡± Without hesitation we filled in the circle. Eli said, ¡°Defend yourselves.¡± The world around us descended into chaotic violence, chunks of grass and mud sprayed into the air. One by one the Malakh fell, and one by one they felt the power of the bearak coursing through them and their armor. Our strength, our stamina, our ability to absorb strikes was incredible. It was no wonder Eli had made such quick work of us before. In time though, Eli wore each of the Malakh down until it was just me and App. I feigned right then moved to the left, leaping into the air, drawing a would-be devastating strike to the upper torso from Eli, however, as a baseball player stealing second, App slid underneath me, striking Eli across the shins with the bottom of his foot, causing Eli¡¯s strike to miss me, and Eli to flip into the air. A hush fell over the Malakh as this was the first offensive contact we had succeeded in executing. App began to stand from his slide, while I delivered a downward strike to Eli¡¯s jaw as he flew through the air. Eli began to spin due to the force of the strike, however, I noticed his right hand stretch out as it had in the classroom. Just as he hit the ground the great war hammer appeared in his hand. App and I combined had the strength to subdue Eli with this kind of a head start, rendering the war hammer useless. Using our bodies we pinned each side of his arms and legs to ensure he was unable to return to his feet or utilize the weapon.


    App began to laugh triumphantly, though I looked at App, then down to Eli¡¯s face, and back to App. Eli was not exerting himself. In fact, he appeared to have allowed this final position to happen, and a moment later he said, ¡°Have you considered all outcomes, or have you allowed arrogance to snatch defeat from victory?¡± App did not seem bothered by the statement, but instead allowed the bearak to rage forth, increasing the force with which he held Eli down.


    Eli, a glimmer of sadness on his face, whispered the great hammer''s name, ¡°Fortitude.¡± The hammer erupted with an incredible flash of light. The war hammer transitioned into a maul, but not just any maul. We would later learn, it was the Maul of Doxa. The handle alone was nearly the length of Eli, and the head of the maul was bigger than his entire torso. The metallic bands now glowed a deep blue, bearak flames leaping off precious gems imprinted into them. The leather straps were now laced with silver and gold,  The force of the eruption had sent us flying, and had created the sensation of my brain being flipped upside down while being crushed like a soda can.


    Eli stood as if a magnet had pulled him from the soil. He allowed a moment for us to compose ourselves and called us all forward stating, ¡°You must be able to think. Knowledge is not wisdom. Before you assume you have defeated an opponent you must be certain that opponent has no further options at their disposal. Let us return to the classroom.¡± Without another word Eli began the journey back to the classroom.


    App and I walked alongside each other. He broke the silence stating, ¡°That armor, even the war hammer, those are both incredible tools, but whatever that hammer turned into, that¡¯s something entirely different. He didn¡¯t even use it on us, just simply said its name, and the fight was over.¡± I shook my head and responded, ¡°I have no idea what that was, but we have a lot to learn.¡± For once, App simply nodded, and we continued walking in silence.