The Druid's Spear (Ascent of the Gem Bearers Book 1) (2 page)

He voice cracked and he stopped talking. They sat in silence. Golden rays dimmed into a haze of soft ember. The glowing coal-like color blushed into a dusky coral. Eventually, the coral seeped away to allow purple to dominate the sky. Soon, dark night eradicated the last vestiges of the sunlight. Ken started when someone turned on the light in the room, unaware he’d been sitting in darkness. He glanced over at John and saw his friend bow his head. His lips moved without sound. The distinct hum of the bulb over their head remained the only noise in the room.

At some point close to midnight Ken watched his mother’s eyes open.

“
Okasan
?”

Her head turned slowly toward him. Bloodless lips wreathed in a smile and her eyes danced with life.

“Ken?” Her voice was a thread of breath.

“I’m here.” Ken gripped the frail hand in his. Pathetic strength gave her the barest ability to squeeze him back. A tear dropped onto the back of her hand. More burned a path down his face. A movement across from him distracted him for a brief moment, and then John leaned over and kissed the clammy brow.

“John baby,” she whispered. Another smile lifted her lips. Ken saw John drop his head, shuddering sobs wracking the man’s body. She closed her eyes and then opened them again. In the brief interval, Ken’s heart stopped and then galloped onward.

The light in her eyes dimmed. Panic seized his body. Ken reached over and held his mother’s face in his hand. As if he could will her body to live, he stared into her eyes. The woman he loved more than anyone in this world lifted her eyes once more to him. She had comforted him in his youth and remained his rock when he became a man. A thousand memories surged forward in his mind. The dam broke forth on his emotions and he sobbed.

“
Okasan
, I love you,” he wailed as he bent and kissed her mouth for the final time.

“I love you too, Ken. Remember to keep moving.”

The next instant, her head drooped in his grasp. Ken’s world would never be the same.

Deep in the ocean, the ground cracked as Gakunoik moved in position behind Iethiga.

The ocean current went into a frenzy above the crack that appeared. Fish and other sea life swam away as they detected the disturbance. Others were not so fortunate as the ocean floor opened its mouth and swallowed them.

As the crack widened, heat in the form of hot gases belched from the interior. They rose upward and flooded the area. The fissure crawled its way along the ocean floor. It uprooted marine plant life that had been residing there for hundreds of years. The large kelp forests were soon enveloped by the gaseous bubbles. The wilted stalks sank into the heated gulp of the ever-growing crack. In a few moments, it destroyed the delicate ecosystem.

The earthquake persisted.

Massive rocks fell deeper in the crevice of the ocean. The rift made its way to a giant mound covered with algae. The instant the fault reached the mound, the underwater turbulence stopped as quickly as it started. Gakunoik gleamed brightly in the night sky, as if to wink to the earth below. And the entity in the giant mound moved, awakened.

Ken watched the priest’s mouth move as the man uttered the last rites, but he could not hear the words. The sound muted against his eardrums. His body seemed determined to ignore what was happening before his eyes. His heart pulsed with pain. It ached and throbbed, battered by the loss of the star in his life. The significance of this day attacked it, left it bare clear to his soul.

The sun shone hot and bright in the cloudless sky. A warm, balmy wind caressed his face. It ruffled his hair like a mother’s fond jostling. Trees swayed in the breeze, the garish green catching his eyes as he forced himself to look away from the priest.

Okasan would have loved being buried on a day like this. At least she got her wish.

The priest droned on but the words were muffled. Ken’s ears raged along with the rest of him. Mutiny in all areas of his body except his eyes and heart. Finally, the priest seemed finished with the ceremony and he inclined his head to Ken.

Ken took the cue and lifted the bouquet of fresh flowers he brought with him. His mother never knew which type of flower she liked, she preferred so many varieties. The last several months, he made sure to fill her room with as many flowers as she wanted. They created a perfumed atmosphere that comforted her in those final days. At the final moments of death, the flowers eased her way to the next life.

Ken clenched his jaw and fought to keep the tears from leaving their ducts.
Okasan
would have wanted his smiles, not tears. His joy, not his pain. In a way, she had them both. Pleasure that she no longer lived in this world. Agony that she was no longer in this world.

The flowers trembled in his hands. A battle took place. By throwing the bouquet on the grave, he’d succumb to the finality of this moment. Not just death, but the fact he was alone.

Ken’s lips compressed into a thin line, flush against his teeth. The skin along his cheekbones and forehead hardened like plastic. What should he do? Throw the bouquet in or keep it? Did life only come with ‘pass or fail’ choices? Was there an in-between? A gray area of exploration?
“Kenny?”

The voice jerked him from his thoughts. Ken looked to see John staring at him. The chocolate brown curly hair fluttered against the wind, the green eyes sad. “Let her have the flowers.”

Ken stood, his hand outstretched over the grave, and eyes locked onto his friend. Then he turned back to the matter at hand.

Okasan
would love the flowers.

He unclasped his fingers from around the stalks. They drifted on top of the box. Some petals broke free from the rest and fell like rain. They came to land on the edge of his feet.

“Here are your flowers,” he whispered. “I’ll bring you some more later.”

A baseball grew in his throat and choked off his air supply. Stabbing pain perforated into the muscles of his stomach, and he doubled over. Wetness trailed down his face, draining from his eyes and nose. The body that refused to acknowledge his mother’s death now unleashed the agony with the abruptness of a summer storm. Ken gasped and sank to his knees, clutching his middle. John knelt beside him and clasped him around the shoulders.

“
Okasan’s
gone,” Ken wept as he attempted to inhale deep gulps of air.

His ears allowed sound in once more. The wind blew harsh against them. In the distance, the blare of car horns and traffic beat against his temples.

“Why doesn’t the world stop? Why do they continue to live? Don’t they know my mother is gone?” Ken bellowed and his voice carried across the small graveyard.

“Aoki
-kasan
would be the first to say to keep moving. No matter what happens, keep moving.” John’s voice broke. For an eternity, both men knelt at the grave in the sunshine and cried.

At some point in the turmoil of grief, John’s word penetrated the sorrow and madness in Ken’s mind. The man was right. No matter what happened, keep moving. Not only that – keep striving, keep running, keep going. Don’t ever stop. Stagnation rooted the lazy in place. Those who persisted in looking ahead to a new tomorrow got to where they were going. If he followed his mother’s edict, he’d someday reach the place where the agony would be no more.

The ache lessened. The tautness of his stomach softened. His tears dried.

With a push off the ground, he stood and studied the grave. John rose with him.

“I’ll keep moving. I can’t stop now.”

“We’ll be back, Aoki-kasan
. We’ll bring a fresh batch of flowers every time.”

Ken swiveled and walked away from his mother’s grave. He kept moving.

The diner was packed for breakfast. Ken and John had barely sat down and were given coffee before all attention was drawn to the blaring TV overhead. “It’s with an eerie sense of déjà vu we turn our eyes to the Sea of Japan as an earthquake devastates the Akita prefecture. More than thirty years ago, the Akita prefecture was struck by a 7.8 magnitude earthquake, eighty kilometers off the cost of Noshiro. The tsunami resulted in one hundred casualties and three twenty four injuries. Now thousands are out of homes, millions of dollars’ worth of damage, and many are missing or presumed dead. Rescue workers are working diligently to provide care. The United States, Europe, and other countries have flown in disaster aid services.”

Ken and John shared a look. “When did this happen?” he asked, astounded.

John took a sip of tea. “Looks like a few hours ago. I wonder why we didn’t feel anything.”

The woman continued with her report. “The level of devastation is still being determined. Seismologists state the strength of this earthquake is unlike any they’ve ever seen. It began as an underwater occurrence and then spread along the fault lines to inland territory.”

A graphic appeared on the screen to illustrate her statement. Ken watched along with the other patrons.

“Japan is no stranger to earthquake phenomena. However, the increase in natural disasters activity, in Japan and across the world, some have linked to the extremely rare planetary alignment happening this year. In the midst of this crisis alternative theories are being propagated. The Internet and social media are abuzz. Coincidently, Mercury, Venus, and Mars have aligned with Earth. In rural areas all over Japan, some have instituted or performed ancient ceremonies to appease the spirits. Hundreds have flocked to temples, shrines, and other places of worship and meditation. Some are calling it the beginning of the end of the world.

“Scientists refute the idea that planetary alignments have any effect on the Earth’s seismic conditions. However, this sound advice has no bearing on the millions of people who state the alignment is causing the strange weather phenomena the Earth has been experiencing."

John’s eyes grew as large as saucers. “Those poor people! I feel bad for them.”

Ken made a sympathetic noise. As terrible as it was for the country to be overwhelmed by yet another earthquake, the pain of his mother’s death still took precedent in his mind. In one way, he was glad she wasn’t alive to see this.

“What other weather phenomena are they talking about?” he asked. In the scheme of things, he didn’t really care, but he felt guilty for his apathetic attitude.

“I think they are referring to that weird fog that hit several places a couple of days ago.”

Ken made another noise in the back of his throat. He thought of his mother. If she were alive right now, she’d call him and give him a blow by blow update of the news report. She’d be glued to the TV like sticky rice. He swallowed a lump that formed in his throat. He missed her so much, and it had only been a couple of days. How would he be able to handle it for the rest of his life?

“I think that’s an interesting theory, though.”

John’s voice penetrated his melancholy thoughts, and Ken stirred. “What is?”

His friend waved his hand carelessly in the air. “The planetary alignment. That doesn’t happen very often.”

Ken rolled his eyes and groaned. John’s astrology obsession since childhood had led to dozens of trips to the country, planetariums, and trips to the store for telescopes with high-def magnification in search for stars, asteroids, and who knew what else.

“Oh, not this again.”

“Kenny, c’mon. This is serious.”

“What is?”

“The planetary alignment. It’s a rare occurrence. Only every two hundred years, give or take. A lot of ancient cultures believed that planetary alignments affected the earth.”

Ken scoffed. “They also believed the earth was flat and demons stole their children.”

“Look. All I’m saying is that this planetary alignment is important. Who knows what effect it will have here on earth?”

Curious in spite of his skepticism, Ken asked, “Do they really line up in a line?”

John shrugged and sipped at his coffee. “Not in the classical sense of the term. They occupy the same quadrant in space. However we when view them, it looks like they’re tin soldiers getting ready for battle.”

“Hmmmm,” Ken answered.

“It’s not illogical to think there is a correlation. Many ancient cultures believed each planet affected the next and the next. It shows how we are all connected in the universe like…like…string tied to fabric.”

“Oh yeah? Who’s the one sewing the string to the fabric?”

John rolled his eyes. “God, of course, you skeptic! Matter of fact, there’s a legend about the Creator and this battle between the Sun and its children—“

Ken had little patience for myths and legends now. "You were always into that astrology stuff like it makes a difference. I need to get back to the real world, like work.”

“You’re not going back to work tomorrow, are you?” John’s eyebrows rose into his hairline.

A pretty waitress chose that moment to come by and took their orders. Her eyes latched onto John and a nice color flooded her cheeks. Stars and planets were thrown aside as his friend lapped up the attention like a greedy dog. Ken shook his head in mock sorrow. Aoki-kasan’s
death or no, John would always take time out for the ladies.

When she walked away, Ken responded, “I’ve got nothing else to do.”

“You just buried your mother a half hour ago. I’m sure your boss won’t mind if you took a day of off work.”

Ken twisted the wide-banded watch on his wrist, uncomfortable with the direction of this conversation. He appreciated John’s concern but was taken back by his obtuseness.

“I’ve got nothing else to do,” Ken repeated slowly. His fingers squeezed the watchband. The ridges imprinted on his skin.

John’s mouth formed an ‘O’ as comprehension finally made its way through. An awkward silence dominated the table. They listened to more of the report about the earthquake. After about ten minutes, the waitress returned with their order. Tantalizing scents of white rice,
miso
soup, fried eggs resting on
natto
, fermented soybeans, bacon, and sausage wafted to his nostrils.

“Smells good.” John gifted the woman with a big smile. Ken looked away from the spectacle. The mop of brown hair, pale skin, and green eyes charmed some women. He’d seen John put on the act and ninety percent of the time, it worked. Ken grabbed his bowl of
miso
soup, sipping the broth.

The waitress giggled at John’s antics and cast a coy look at him as she left.

Ken did his best to enjoy the food, but he couldn’t get much down. Everything tasted like ash compared to his mother’s cooking. However, he knew she would insist on his eating the food. Ken imagined her voice in his head.
No point in starving unless you had to.

“Look,” John grumbled out, chewing faster as he pointed his fork to the TV.

Ken followed the utensil to see the same reporter once again dominate the screen. The upper corner showed a slide show of planets.

“The Druid’s Spear,” John uttered in an awe-induced voice.

“What?”

“The first five planets are working toward alignment. When all of them are in sync, the Druid’s Spear appears.”

Ken’s face scrunched. “Druid’s Spear? Give me a break. We just had this conversation, John!”

“Ken, it only happens every two hundred years. It’s kind of a big deal.”