Gauntlet Rite of Ascension

M
ARCUS
A
BSHIRE

GAUNTLET

Rite of Ascension

For my daughter.

You never give up, how can I do anything less?

I love you sweet pea.

Prologue

Somewhere in the cosmos, the Hunter stalks his prey. The place does not matter, the prey does not matter, all that matters is the struggle, life and death, one’s drive to bring about death only to ensure life, the cycle forever unchanging. The Hunter nears the prey, ready for the kill. The prey eats, unaware of its imminent doom. The Hunter crouches, anticipating the moment.

He stops; a call from the One comes to him. The One has not called on the Hunter for a long time. He began to believe the One no longer needed him. The Hunter turns his head as the One calls. The prey flees, aware of his presence. No matter, the One needs the Hunter. He forgets the chase and the kill, there are more important matters to deal with. When the One calls the Hunter answers, it has always been such. It will always be such.

              He leaves the orb of rock on which he had been stalking his prey. Far away from where he is called. The Hunter knows he has a very long way to go, but he also knows the short cuts and every trail. With a force of will the Hunter leaves this plane and slips between realms where the distances are not so vast and time does not run like a river.

              The Hunter runs. It has been a long time since the he has run like this. The freedom from the mortal coil is rejuvenating. The many forms the Hunter has taken over the eons have all been effective. As the Hunter wills himself back into the physical plane he takes on a familiar shape, one that pleases him. The Hunter stands on a vast and open stretch of land covered in hundreds of feet of frozen water. Howls from nearby hunters can be heard as his presence is announced, as it should be.

              The Hunter breaths deeply, the cold wind sharp to his sensitive nose. The depth of smells this form can discern always surprises the Hunter. He easily finds the scent that gives him his heading. Wide paws dig in the frozen ground as the Hunter races off. The destination is known, the hunt is on. The Hunters white fur blends in with the surroundings and he flies over the ground, a cloud of power and purpose, determined to answer the call of the One and to set in motion the next step.

              Over the land the Hunter runs, which gradually warms as he moves south, closer to his target.

              Finally, after days of endless running the Hunter reaches the end, the end of the run, but the beginning of something else. The Hunter enters a well-worn path and quietly pads through a small wooded area. The animals all grow silent in respect to the Hunter. He wants is presence known and the animals understand the Hunter is not here for them.

              He finds a spot under a small tree and circles the ground three times before laying down, knowing that soon the Hunter’s prey will come, the One has said so and so it shall be.

Chapter 1

The alarm clock kept screaming, two notes alternately blaring, making it impossible for me to go back to sleep. I needed to get up anyway. The end of the school year was almost here, I couldn’t start slacking now. I had worked too hard to get where I was to make a lazy mistake like sleeping in and missing a class.

The options for a kid like me were limited. When you don’t have a trust fund to pay for college or an arm of gold to ensure a free ride you had to rely on the one thing you did have, a brain.

My scholarship wasn’t assured. Sure, I had a 4.0 G.P.A., was the valedictorian and had all the requirements the scholarship called for, but I still had to stay out of trouble before the scholarship went into effect.

The one thing that always made me laugh was the morality clause. I was a science nut and my dream was to go to Georgetown. They had the programs I was looking for and if I had to act like a good Christian and abide by their morality and goodness guidelines for the summer I would.

Hell, it’s not like it would be all that hard. I wasn’t what you’d call popular. I wasn’t a pariah or anything, but spending endless hours studying while my classmates learned the best way to make a bong with a two-liter and a five-gallon bucket made sure my social life wasn’t bursting at the seams.

A morality clause made sure the college could deny a candidate their scholarship if they went out and got a little wild at some party or if they, god forbid, acted like the teenager they were.

Whatever, I would have plenty of time to indulge in the good life when I was a Pulitzer Prize winning scientist.

              “Get your ass up douchebag; I have to be in Algebra early today since you won’t help me.” Susan, my pain in the ass yet endearing sister said.

“I tried to help you, but you didn’t take it seriously.” I mumbled again for the twentieth time.

She was trying to balance her social life and her studies. She put more weight in having friends and being at the right parties than she did at getting good grades. She didn’t want to fail and was trying to make sure she graduated.

She had a free period in the morning and used it to take Algebra with another class, then again when her class came around. I tried to tell her that it doesn’t do any good to go over the lesson twice if you don’t take it seriously. I think she was hoping that the teacher would see her effort and give her a passing grade for trying.

Who knows, most teachers were more interested in getting the kids through so it looks good on their assessments instead of making sure their students know the stuff they have been taught.

              I groggily dragged myself out of bed and quickly took a shower. I got dressed and made my way downstairs only to hear my sisters Volkswagen Beetle drive off, leaving me to walk to school. I stood there for a second. I couldn’t believe she just left me.

              “Bitch.” I said.

              “What?” My mom asked.

              My mom was great. She had been working hard to keep our family together after my dad died in a car accident. It was a complete shock.

We had as close to the classic American family as anyone could. My dad worked a nine to five desk job as an insurance agent, my mom stayed at home intent on making sure there would always be someone present when my sister and I came home from school.

They were both good parents. They loved us and tried to show it without being overbearing. They were always there at our recitals or plays; they came to every football game. They even understood when my sights turned more to books than to the pigskin. My dad never showed disappointment or remorse that I didn’t want to follow him as a football player.

He was a quarterback and had gotten into college that way. He had N.F.L. recruiters looking at him until he injured his knee and never got back on the field.

I can’t really complain. He met my mom in the hospital. She was a nursing student and they met while he was recovering. I guess I should be thankful that he was injured. I would never have been here if he hadn’t.

I think he saw it the same way and loved his family more than he ever did his old sports career. My mom had gotten a job after my dad’s death and was working at the local coffee shop trying to make ends meet with a crappy paying job.

Her schedule allowed her to be here when we left and to be here when we came home, so she was willing to put up with it until we went off to college, it was one of the things she wasn’t going to change after my dad’s passing.

              “Oh, nothing. Susan left me again. I’ll have to walk to school.” I said, trying to hide what I said about my sister.

              “Yeah, well I know she can be a pain, but you shouldn’t talk that way. Your sister is still your sister, no matter how she treats you. She still loves you.” She said, seeing right through me.

              I looked at her smiling. She was dressed in a white button up shirt and brown pants, her uniform for the coffee shop. She had her blond hair up and two sticks stuck out of the bun on her head. Her eyes were soft and caring, hiding a pain that always showed itself when she looked at me. I think I reminded her of dad so much that she always saw him in me, and that inevitably made her sad.

              “I guess a good walk will help wake me up. I don’t have a class for another hour anyway; I can take the time to get ready for my debate in speech.” I said.

              “That’s the way. Take lemons and make lemonade.” She said.

              I went over and hugged her, grabbed an apple from a bowl on the kitchen table then slung my backpack over my shoulder. I left and began the two mile walk to school, intent on getting there with enough time to spend a half hour in the library.

              The summer hadn’t yet fully taken over. Living in Pennsylvania ensured that our winters were deep and our summers were not. The humidity was unbearable at the height of summer and the heat could, at times, be overwhelming. Generally, though, our winters were harsher than summer. This year’s spring was lasting longer than usual and the morning had a crispness that was unusual for this time of year.

I walked down the sidewalk, passing under large trees that grew from the small plot of soil next to the street. The houses in this area were old, most of them well kept, but some were let to rot. They’d been built after the end of WWII. The returning soldiers needed homes to live in and a lot of neighborhoods were built after the war to house the homecoming men who were ready to start living and working for their American dream.

              I walked down to the end of the street and instead of turning right I went straight, across the street, and entered the forested area that surrounded our neighborhood.

The trees were thick and the new growth was fastidiously taking over. I entered the wooded area by a well-worn trail which cut through the woods and provided a nice short cut to school.

Kids loved this area, they would come out here and play games or just explore. Teenagers also loved the feel that the area provided, almost as if they could do things in here and not be seen. There were more than a few parties thrown in here on the weekends.

Most of the adults living around here didn’t mind. The trees provided a sound proofing that allowed the kids to get out of hand and not bother the adults sleeping. The woods always felt safe to me, a place that seemed inviting and at the same time full of quiet wonder.

              I walked the path lost in my thoughts.

I had lab today, one of the last labs of the year. I loved lab, not because of the scientific exploration that took place there. I mean it was high school for god’s sake. The most interesting thing we ever did there was dissect a baby pig.

The one thing that made me love it wasn’t what we did but who I did it with.

Sara was my lab partner. She was smart, kind, funny and most of all she was gorgeous. She had long straight black hair with piercing blue eyes that always saw through my crap.

She always got my humor and respected my opinion. Every time she was near I had a hard time thinking straight. She muddled my thoughts better than a blender.

She had been dating Ricky Roberts, who played on the varsity football team. They had broken up last month after a big fight. I was determined to ask her out before I went off to college. I wasn’t going to let these last few months go by without trying. I couldn’t live with myself if I never even tried.

              I heard movement in the bushes, off the path, that startled me out of my thoughts. I stopped, curious.

It might be some kids messing around before school. Perhaps it was an animal that awoke as I walked by.

The end of the year was always a great time for kids like me to be the target of some jerks idea of a good time. I wasn’t too worried about that, however, I know I wasn’t the coolest kid in school but I was starting to fill out a little and the bullies liked to stick to the kids who couldn’t put up much of a fight. Still, you never knew.

              I heard it again, something moving, disturbing the dead leaves that littered the ground. This time I distinctly heard a whimpering, almost like someone groaning.

I thought about walking away, going to class. For all I knew some homeless guy had passed out and was waking up to a massive hangover. It might also be someone that was hurt, or a hurt homeless guy who would lash out at anyone who came near.