Chapter 1
The university campus was a buzz of bleary-eyed students going to and from class. Some exited the buildings with a slight spring in their step having finished another semester, while others were in such a haggard state that each step was carefully placed as if they walked on a path of eggshells and the slightest misstep would reveal just how unprepared they really were.
Having finished for the day, Aaron left Robertson Hall, home to the college of engineering sciences. Only one final exam separated him from a summer internship before starting graduate school, and he couldn’t wait. He headed to the parking lot and quickly located his old-style Jeep CJ7. Aaron had rescued the old CJ from a farm about a hundred miles from his house. His father thought he was crazy, but under the dirt and rust, a beast slept. “Beast” was the Jeep’s nickname and was a running joke between him and his father. He’d spent a year restoring it. The black paint shined and the chrome circling the traditional round headlights gleamed. The soft top was down, of course. Unless it was raining, the top to his Jeep always stayed down. There was nothing like driving with the top down and the wind blowing through his hair...freedom.
His mother had sent him a message asking that he cover for one of the horse trainers at his grandfather’s stables. He didn’t mind helping out and knew that his days working with the horses at the stables were numbered.
The drive out to the stables never took long, and a half hour later he came within sight of the tall hedges that ran the length of the property. He turned onto the long driveway lined with red maples. As he closed in on the main house, Aaron’s brows drew forward and he clutched the steering wheel. Bright, flashing red lights from police cars parked outside his grandfather’s colonial farmhouse lit up the area. Aaron steered to a stone wall, threw the shifter into park, and climbed out of the Jeep. A knot of police officers and paramedics gathered near the stairway that led to the house. At the top of the stairs, Zeus, his grandfather’s wolf half-breed, stood with his head lowered and teeth bared. A deep growl rumbled from Zeus’s chest and his ears were pinned back.
Aaron spotted his mother speaking with the police officers. “What’s going on? Is Grandpa okay?”
His mother turned to him. “I don’t know. We can’t get in. Zeus won’t let anyone pass.”
“Ma’am,” a police officer interrupted, “if we can’t get the dog out of there, we’re going to have to put him down. We can’t wait for Animal Control if someone inside needs our help.”
“No,” Aaron said, stepping up to the stairs. “Let me try.”
Aaron heard his mother ask the police officer to give Aaron a chance.
There was no way Aaron was going to let them shoot Zeus. He had been in the family for years. The screen door to the house was propped open. Aaron craned his neck and tried to peer inside, but didn’t see anyone. He placed a foot on the first step and stopped. Zeus narrowed his eyes at him and shifted his gaze to the people behind him.
“Easy, boy,” he said slowly. “It’s me.”
Zeus’s hackles were raised and his whole body quivered. Aaron took another step forward, and Zeus bared all his teeth, unveiling the peaks of the Rocky Mountains inside his mouth.
Aaron never took his eyes from him, his stare neither challenging nor yielding. “Zeus,” he said evenly, trying to get Zeus to calm down with the sound of his voice.
“I need to get in there, boy. Come on,” Aaron said.
Zeus’s ears perked up, and the wild look in his eyes shifted to the more familiar loving kind that Aaron knew so well. Zeus reluctantly took a step forward.
“It’s okay. Show me where he is. Where’s Grandpa? Take me to him,” Aaron said and walked up the steps as he’d done thousands of times before. Zeus raised his snout, sniffing the air, then turned tail and trotted into the house with Aaron in tow.
Aaron leaped up the last few steps and entered his grandfather’s house. He called out, but there was no answer. Everything looked normal and in its place, but something felt wrong. The insides of Aaron’s stomach twisted. There was a coldness in the air despite the warm weather outside.
Aaron followed Zeus through the house and down the back hallway leading to the study. He entered the room and found his grandfather lying on the floor.
Oh, no!
His grandfather looked up at him and sighed in relief. Aaron quickly knelt beside him. A trace of blood trailed down the side of his grandfather’s mouth. His grandfather, who had always been a vibrant man—even into his eighties—lay helplessly on the floor. He looked wizened and old. Far older than Aaron could recall.
His grandfather gestured for Aaron to lean down. “Come closer,” he whispered, placing something in Aaron’s hands. “Keep it safe,” he gasped.
“What’s wrong?” Aaron asked.
His grandfather’s face writhed in pain, and he sucked in ragged breaths. “Oh, Aaron. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry...” he said. His body convulsed violently, and his back arched while Aaron held onto him, crying out. Then his body relaxed with a great sigh. Aaron watched in silent horror as his grandfather stopped breathing.
Aaron heard others enter the room. He knelt there clutching his grandfather’s lifeless body as the paramedics checked for a pulse. The paramedics labored to revive his grandfather, but nothing worked. He was gone.
Eventually, a gentle but strong hand gripped his shoulder. “It’s time to let go, Son,” his father beckoned. “Aaron, please," his father said.
Aaron carefully laid his grandfather’s head down onto the floor. His father gently ran his fingers over Aaron’s grandfather’s eyes, closing them. Aaron kept watching his grandfather’s chest, hoping that he would see it begin to rise and fall. That this was some sort of mistake. He wanted to believe it more than anything, but he knew the truth.
Aaron stood up and slowly turned, clenching his teeth, trying for all he was worth not to break down and cry. He was eye level with his father, who was also a man of great size, and the sight of his father’s eyes brimming with tears made the breath catch in his throat. His mother cried out, and he watched helplessly as she collapsed over his grandfather. His father knelt down next to her and put his arm around her shoulders. Aaron stood there helplessly, watching his parents hold each other.
Aaron opened his hand and looked at the object his grandfather had given him. It was a silver medallion with a white pearl in the center and a carved relief of a dragon holding a rose curling around the front. There was a slight shimmer to it as it caught the light. After studying it for a few moments, he stuffed the medallion in his pocket and walked stiffly from the room.
The rest of the day passed as if it were happening to someone else. Aaron watched helplessly as the white coroner’s van took his grandfather’s body away. His thoughts raced in every direction, and he tried to get a firm grasp on the emotions welling up inside him. His pulse was racing and his chest felt constricted. He needed to do something—anything—as long as he was moving. He ran over to the stables and saddled Sam, a chestnut stallion, and put as much distance between him and the house as possible. Beyond the stables was a wide-open field bathed in sunshine. The gentle swaying of the grass and distant trees mocked him. Sam snorted anxiously, sensing Aaron’s unrest. The trailhead on the far side of the field beckoned him, and he nudged Sam into a gallop.
Aaron glanced over to the side and saw Zeus plowing along next to him. Aaron gave Sam another prod, urging him faster. He wanted to fly, and Zeus flew with him. He veered off the trail and headed into the woods, dodging trees. Faster and faster, cutting each turn tighter until the branches tore at him, scraping through his shirt. He didn’t care. He wanted to be reckless and rode as if his life depended on it. Zeus ran with him, darting in and out of sight like a spirit. He didn’t know how long he rode, but the edge of the cliffs appeared before him in the waning sunlight, and he stopped. Aaron gazed out at the small valley before him, his heart pounding. Sam snorted and pawed at the ground, feeding off his need to keep moving.
Aaron stepped off his horse and fell to his knees, letting out a silent wail. He felt stripped bare before the world, the mortality that surrounds us every day becoming a reality for him. Grief overtook him, and he let out a piercing scream that echoed through the valley.
Zeus nuzzled his pocket, and he reached inside, taking out the medallion. Why did his grandfather give it to him? Keep it safe, he had told him. But safe from what? He traced his fingers along the foreign symbols that surrounded the creamy white pearl in the center. At first, he thought it was silver, but the way the metal felt and shined in the light led him to believe otherwise.
Aaron’s grandfather had been his mentor. He had mourned the loss of his wife, Cassandra, who had died before Aaron was born. He had fought wars, but would not speak of them. His past, like his pain, was shrouded in mystery. Reymius was the type of man that when he spoke, you wanted to listen and earn his respect. His calming nature brought out the best in people.
With the sun beginning to settle and his shoulders slumped, Aaron started back to the house. He decided to walk, leading Sam, and Zeus followed. He knew the land well, but he was glad for Zeus’s company. The long walk back to the house allowed him to calm down. By the time he arrived at the house, it was dark and deserted. He took care of Sam by way of brushing and giving him some food, and thanked him for the ride. He thought about going into the house, but decided to go to the sparring room instead.
The sparring room was adjacent to the main house, but was only accessible from the outside. He removed his shoes before entering—a habit instilled in him since before he could remember. Hanging along the walls was all manner of weaponry. From staffs to swords of all sizes, Aaron knew how to use them all. His father would say he knew them too well, but Reymius had nurtured Aaron’s natural ability with the weapons in the room.
He walked to the center of the room and sank to his knees, facing a marble fountain against the far wall. Water fell gently upon smaller leaf pools, until at last it trickled to a pool at the base. The soft, rhythmic cascade of water soothed him and lulled him into a sense of inner peace. There were two wooden columns on either side of the fountain. His grandfather had carved the columns himself, and the shadows from the soft candlelight caressed the carved relief of roses spiraling up from the base of each column.
He closed his eyes and took slow, deep breaths. He felt a slight vibration through the floorboards. Opening his eyes, he caught a glimpse of something disturbing the water in the fountain. He crossed the room, stared down into the shallow depths, and noticed a small silver ring bobbing among the water plants along the bottom. He reached into the cool water and tugged. Sounds of pins driving into place could be heard under the floor as some unseen mechanism was put into motion. Aaron’s breath caught in his throat as a gaping hole opened in the center of the room, revealing stairs that led down into darkness.
Aaron crossed the room and stood atop the narrow staircase, looking down, and a bluish glow emanated from below. He descended the staircase, which opened into a small room where a cylinder hung suspended in midair, surrounded by a blue, pulsing glow. Below the cylinder was a worn stone chest. Inside his pocket, he felt the medallion grow warm. He drew out the medallion and gasped as the white pearl began pulsing, growing brighter as he brought it closer to the cylinder. Aaron reached out to touched the cylinder, and there was a blue flash of light as the cylinder came to rest upon the chest. A lock clicked from within, and the lid groaned, sending a cloud of dust into the air as it opened. Aaron peered inside. Atop a white cloth bundle was a folded piece of paper with his name written on it. With shaky hands, he reached in and opened the letter.
Dear Aaron,
I fear that as I write this our time together has become short indeed. You have brought joy and light back into a heart that was clouded in darkness and despair. Your grandmother, Cassandra, would have been proud to see you become the man you are today and will rest easier knowing her sacrifice was not in vain. There are things that will happen with my passing that I am powerless to prevent, but I must have faith that you will overcome the obstacles ahead of you. There are things about me that I have never told you, about both my past and where your true home is. One day soon, you will discover that your life is nothing like you thought it would be. You have a power that will arise. I have seen the signs of its coming recently, and so will you when you quiet your mind. The training that I have provided will aid you in reaping the benefits of your coming gifts...and more importantly, will help you stay alive, for there is always a price to be paid for such things. Always remember that fate uses us to its own ends, but it will never take away our right to decide. Choose wisely, and choose quickly. Death comes swiftly to those who tarry in the middle of the road. The things you have found along with this letter are yours. The medallion is your birthright; keep it safe. Both your Faith and your Fate are tied into these items. The Falcon blades are your heritage. Use them well. Worlds will change, but in the deepest, darkest depths, remember who you are. The light of our souls never truly fades, and may the light shine forever upon your path.
Farewell, my grandson.
Reymius Alenzar’seth
Alenzar’seth? That wasn’t his grandfather’s last name. Frowning, he reached back into the chest to retrieve the cloth bundle. Inside, he found two swords, each resting in a black scabbard; both were the length of his arms. He drew each sword from its scabbard, revealing a strange form of writing along the center of the blades and holes running their length. The swords were surprisingly light in weight and balanced perfectly in his hands. Set in the base of each sword was a crystal. A calling came to Aaron in that moment. A force that had been sleeping within him suddenly rose from the pit of his stomach, filling his chest. He carefully slid the swords back into their scabbards, wrapped them in the white cloth, and picked them up.
The calling had him entranced, guiding him as he exited the sparring room and stepped into the twilight. Zeus walked beside him until the lights of the house faded away and the trees gave way to a moonlit clearing. There were horses grazing nearby. Aaron gazed up at the night sky as the clouds blew past the moon, allowing its light to dance upon the ground. He knelt and set the white bundle in front of him. Unwrapping the swords, he drew them from their scabbards, feeling his grandfather’s presence all around him. That same calm and unwavering force that watched Aaron grow from a boy into a man. The swords warmed to his touch as if they, too, were alive.
He closed his eyes and tilted his head, listening. The medallion grew warm in his pocket. The crystals in the hilt of each sword emitted a faint glow. Aaron looked up, believing it was the moon, but the pure white light was coming from within each crystal, pulsating in rhythm with his beating heart. He heard the soft urgings of a thousand voices within.
Wield the blades.
Release the power.
Claim your birthright, Safanarion.
Slowly and with a certain amount of grace, he wielded the Falcons. The pure notes of the bladesong poured forth, ringing out into the night. A force awakened within him, as if the shield that had held it in gave way to an awareness of the world around him. Life’s energy surrounded him, pure and simple; its elegant force blazed vibrantly, and he felt his connection to it strengthen. The crystallized light danced upon the ground at his feet. Among the pure notes of the bladesong, Zeus howled. Not a howl of despair, but a howl of triumph. Aaron became infused by his connection to everything around him, losing himself within the music coming through the Falcons. This was his song.
The clearing quickly filled with wild animals. The horses were drawn to this spot and formed a wide circle around him. A nighthawk cried from above. Life’s wellspring burst forth inside Aaron, and the crystals in the blades flared brightly. His sorrow momentarily melted away to a brief respite at this gift bequeathed to him by his grandfather.
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