LIGHTNOVELONLINE Issue 93: Aggressive Negotiations
Issue 10: Aggressive Negotiations
Grandpa knows his stuff. The initial message was easy enough. Even if I couldn’t see the people sis was talking to. No, we got sucked into the Weave to see what that Irish King was protecting. Uplift Protocol had nothing on Earth. Earth was testing us instead!—Blue Blaze
Well, I can outrun a whole lot of things but that revelation? Oh boy. Our little Pale Blue Dot has more marvels sleeping within it.—Golden Bulleteer.
Ahh, yes. The Curator just loved to roll out that carpet. We would end up throwing everything plus 5000 kitchen sinks against The All-Father, Set, Thoth, and every other despot imaginable. People might think it ridiculous but all the various allies gathering their beacons did make a difference breaching Unity. No wonder the Amarche kept their cards close. Even White was blindsided.—Sleeping in Starlight, a memoir of the 22nd century
Union Hall
Earth
April 26th, 2104
The Amarche were everywhere. Walking the halls beside us. Their forms showing as shadowy figures. Around my height. The sharp tang of the sea guided me to one of the building balconies. There he was. White-haired. Stooped and ancient. Unlike most with prolong. His bright brown eyes warm in the sunlight. He was dressed in a 3 piece suit. A nice burgundy color.With a white undershirt. His cane reminded me of D’iaxi’s old “Mr. Apple” persona. This white cane had a silver, gold, and white sun etched on the hand nob. He tapped my chest with it.
“Ahh good! You can see my assistants?”
“Yes sir. What are they researching?”
He smiled, “More like what are they placing!”
My grandfather grunted, “Granted, you gave my granddaughter something important but what’s your goal in all of this?”
Curator raised his hand, covering his eyes as he looked out across the ocean, his expression serene. “A legitimate question. I want my race to gain physical bodies. So they may interact with the wider multiverse. While some think the Weave cursed us. Because we did not believe, I am of the mind that it hid us on purpose. For this moment.”
I rubbed my chin. “Cursed you?”
Curator sighed. Pulling out one of the hover chairs from its cradle pod. “Yes. Some think because we did not acknowledge the Weave during the dawn of Creation, we were cast into the realm of Darkmatter. Forever seeing the changes but not able to interact with those of the physical universe. Eternal Observers.”
“So how can you assume your Curator form?”
“Because this host body is just that. A cadaver. The soul has long fled it. A turn on the Ouroborous. For many, their souls remain near their bodies for quite some time. They cling to their former lives.”
Zach moved closer to me. Arms crossed. “Typherian souls do that. It's why we made the Ziggurats!” The Curator smiled gently. He had noticed how protective my brother became. His stance was all at once solemn but still earnest.
“Indeed. That will save your people. When the time comes.” The Amarche’s tone sober.
Curator inclined his head respectfully, “I do not insult your sister young man. For in her I place the will and purpose of my people as well.”
He peered past me. Seeing something I could not. Even with the gift of Darkmatter.
His voice grew stronger, “You will see clearly. Trust the links of blood and time.”
Zach puffed out his chest. Frowning but accepting something I had no context for.
I stored that observation away for later.
*****
Abraham Murphy shared a personal glance with Elenore. They were so used to their roles as the Golden Bulleteer and White Lily that they forgot that their daughter-in-law was by all accounts: Alien. Which showed itself within Blue Blaze. He was acting like Eliza’s personal bodyguard. Lily moved next to her grandson, asking the entity, “How will you gain a physical existence then?”
He regarded her warmly, “By sacrificing the greatest of our powers to preserve the foundation of the Multiverse.”
Bullet hooked his thumbs into his belt. “What’s the foundation then?”
The Amarche rested a hand over Eliza’s heart. “It beats in all of us.”
The elder Murphy worried for Eliza.
He knew that the alien meant much more than just that explanation.
He’d stake his life on it.
The Curator waved his cane and they were no longer surrounded by the sights and sounds of Union Hall. The ground crunched beneath Abraham’s black and golden boots. A beach of purple sand. Endless comets flew by within the heavens above them. His wife grabbed a fistful of the violet material. It clung to her fingertips. As the small flecks hit the ground, they tinkled like wind chimes.
The Curator held out his arms, wide and inviting. “Welcome to the realm of Dreams. The in-between of Weave and Physical Realm. Many Light Shamans and Weave Speakers use this place to center themselves.”
*****
The Amarche greeted me. Their hands reaching out. Leaving no marks.
The feeling remained.
Welcome friend.
Shadowed forms dancing in time with a song I couldn’t hear.
I stared. There was a haunting familiarity with their motions. I moved among them. Mimicking the movements as best I could. They flowed through me. Their emotions riding with them. They were overjoyed that someone could see. Curator waved his cane towards the indigo-colored trees. Florida Palms from the looks of it. Mixed in with great massive Oaks. White Lily exclaimed, “My old chessboard” She bent to pick it up. The figures were kings, queens, dragons, and various knights.
White vines curled around all of us. Linking us to Grandma Murphy. Red roses bloomed around Grandpa while Zach got White ones. As for me? They were bright orange. The Curator got blue. Golden Bulleteer clapped me on the shoulder.
“This reminds me of that drawing you made for your 10th birthday!”
He was right. Even the pink tigers were running through the underbrush. White’s warm chuckle in my ears as they sprouted a third eye on their foreheads. Emerald spires gleamed overhead as we walked through this surreal landscape. The Curator said, “I must show you what the Irish King of Old hid. A dream memory. Tied to Eliza. He already knew your face even before your birth.”
Manannán mac Lir, Father of Water.
A quant Irish countryside materialized.
Greens and yellows meshing into a vibrancy that took my breath away.
The white spires of a multi-storied castle. Waver flowed from fountains, creaks, the moat surrounding it, around the air, rainbows. The flags waving in the breeze. A man with dark green tattoos approached us. Upon his head was a crown of antlers. His chest bare. Simple cloth leggings. He held out his hands. “Welcome to the Dreamscape of Tier ‘el ‘an!
Whispy lights sprang up around him. Their colors ranged from light blue to gold.
“Here is the Tale of the Middle Dark!”
He clapped his hands.
The Hedge of Kings
Ireland
Age of Legends
Lir danced.
His body reflected in the starlight overhead. The soft crackle of the fire reminding him the time was near. He would receive the message of the Ages. The pathway for salvation for all the stars of Heaven and Earth. Chariots of metal and fire road across the cosmic sea. Using weapons beyond his ken. Fighting the very darkness that would eat Earth whole. He saw them. The Twins. Human yet not. Bound by love. Separated by the cruel hand of the Void. To contain the might hidden within. The Convergence of all Existence. One, the boy, bearing the mark of the Gentle Death. A doorway to the Ouro. The girl, Blazing with Life, revitalizing the Tombs of Worlds.
She would sacrifice everything to save them all.
While the Boy held the Doorway Open. Amarche igniting the Flame.
The People connected to All guiding her soul.
From beyond the realms of Death.
*****
Grandma’s hand was curled around my right. Grandpa Murphy stood face to face with the King. “Nobody mentioned that.”
So I wasn’t the last to know everything.
Lir placed his hands over Golden Bulleteer's eyes.
“For all to be saved. The scales will balance.”
I was afraid. Who wouldn’t when every holy man and prophecy proclaimed your impending death. Zach wrapped his arms around my waist. “We’ll find a way sis! I know we will! I bet that’s what Paxton and Doc are working on too!” I rested my left hand on his shoulder. He’d be as tall as Dexter one day. He blurted out, “Besides I got to see your future self for a bit. She seemed ok!”
Ahh, Project Freefall and my blackout.
I wondered what had happened. Lir turned to me, “Yes. That was your future self. Bridging the gap between life and death. That place will be important.” In a blink, he was before me. Tapping my chest, “Remember the songs of home. Not just where you live but who you helped!”
My grandparents were visibly upset. Grandpa held Lily until she calmed down.
I asked the King, “Like this place…..my future self exists between a different thread?”
He smiled, his eyes locked onto mine, his voice singing in the dark.
“Yes. The Ur-Stone is an anchor. Not only a lifeboat for others. It exists across all realities. So your future self uses it as a landmark. His voice reached my mind. A message for me alone.
Death is only the beginning.
A misty gauntlet was digging into my left shoulder.
I couldn’t see the man’s face but his voice rolled over me.
>>We will Pierce the Wall of the Ancients. Drink from the Well.<<
Dizziness overcame me.
Hands that weren’t my open ripped open an ancient stone doorway.
The pitched sounds of battle behind me. Men, animals, screams of the dying.
>>Seal this chamber! The Lying House must not breach these walls!<<
Zach stiffened beside me. His gaze widening.
“King C’alain Ayeer. High Seal of Typha.”
Lir waved and the world shifted.
A man in silver and blue robes stood before a massive black wall. His white armor blackened with soot. The runes of Creation etched upon its surface. He raised his hands. The bloody sword hanging from his hip, “I call now! As last Light Shaman and Weave Speaker of Typha. Seal the entryway. All souls will flow through me. Until the time of the Twins. Rise from the Ashes of Set’s begotten poisons!”
He phased into the obsidian stones.
Their markings are glowing white.
His sacrifice sealing his House’s fate.
The Throne of the Multiverse would not fall to the machinations of Unity so long as an Ayeer kept vigil. Through the Twins, it would save the Mulitvese. Sealing the Gray Herald behind the lands of Endless Night.
*****
Lir continued to dance. Seeing his death within the stones lining the Hedge. But his soul would remain. To help in the times ahead. He would summon the Morrigan. She would help the Twins. Along with the Robin. His crows and dogs. Allies from beyond the stars of Man. From below. In-between the dark places. Seen as ghosts of a forgotten age. Those who slumbered within the dormant Red Planet of War. Igniting the souls of those lost. His physical body would be a mote within the annals of time.
But not his teachings.
That would continue.
He would guide other Light Shamans through the Dreaming.
He would light the beacons.
So that the Arrival of the Twins would cleanse the Weave.
Earth yet held more secrets.
From the Time of Titans.
*****
Lily wrapped more vines around me. Nearly gluing me to the spot.
“Eliza Elizabeth Murphy!”
I planted a sappy smile on my face.
The one that could charm upset grandmothers. I said faintly, “Too late for that Legion insurance plan?” She beat her hands on my chest. “Not funny young lady!” There was no true force to the blows. I held her as the tears flowed.
Grandpa had dragged Lir off to the side. Based on his troubled countenance, even the Golden Bulleteer was at a loss.
*****
Lir told Bulleteer, “You think me cruel?”
Abraham Murphy looked away. Then sucked in a breath.
His eyes red hot when he stared back into the Irish King’s calm demeanor.“Yes. Quite frankly I do my job as a Demi to protect my children. So they don’t have to face the World Ending Troubles I did.”
“Yet there are troubles no matter the Age of Man or Alien.”
Murphy growled. The metal in the area vibrating in time with his heart.
“Indeed. Which is why I won't give up. How can I save my granddaughter.”
“By breathing on the embers. Guide her soul home. Collect the memories.”
The Curator spoke up. His voice was rich with wisdom.
“The Amarche and Bardaxians know this well.”
Bulleteer muttered a prayer.
Lir replied, “Good start!”
*****
The Hanged Man rocked back and forth.
The fleet was getting closer. He could feel the other part of himself waiting there.
Artock troopers gathered more forces. Their blighted fleet nearly endless to the common observation. Matarn’s shell muttered, “The fields darken. The moon shows no face. They have no soul. Mine is waiting down the hall.”
Multiple clans fighting under one banner.
To bring death and destruction to a Pale Blue Dot.