The Return of the Watchers (Armageddon Rising Book 1) (24 page)

BOOK: The Return of the Watchers (Armageddon Rising Book 1)
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              “I still don't know what to do with the University; if I don't return after the break, I'm going to lose my position there, along with everything I've worked for. I just want to go back to my old life; I really don't want to deal with this Armageddon craziness, but I have more questions now that need answering, so I suppose I can't walk away just yet,” he said, pausing for a moment.  “How difficult would it be for you to complete your thesis in the next three months?”                                                                                                   “I don't know. With me helping on this it would be difficult, but I can try and get it completed. Why do you ask?”                                                         “How would you feel about taking over the lab for me? I know the University will want to hire someone from a pool of candidates, but I can give you a glowing recommendation. The death of my mother may serve as reasonable excuse for me to take an extended leave of absence, provided you can cover exams and such for me. That can buy you enough time to finish your PhD. I know that's a huge burden to throw in your lap, but I would rather have you in charge than someone else. What do you say? Are you willing to give it a try?”                                                                       She looked at him with reverence and bowed slightly. A small smile formed on her face, something Dorian wasn't expecting. He returned her smile in kind and breathed an inward sigh of relief.                                           “I'll set up access for my grading software as well as any passwords you might need. I have a business account set up for the  funding, so take what you need out of that. Thank you so much, Yuki, this makes me feel a lot better about leaving.

              “Before I forget, here's the fob with the data we compiled on my genome. Do the best you can, but if you can't figure it out don't worry about it. I don't want you spending all your time on it, just whenever you can spare the time. Your degree and the lab come first, okay?”  he said, handing her the fob.                                                                                                  “Arigato sir!” she replied with her tongue sticking out. Dorian just shook his head.                                                                                                                “Did you find a flight?”                                                                                     “Yes, leaving tomorrow afternoon,” she replied.                                          “Good, we can go to the airport together. I'll get to work writing down the translation of those symbols and put some of them together into words that might allow a program to detect them faster. It's going to be a long night,” he said, as he got up to make a pot of coffee. Opening the cupboards, for some reason, brought his mother to his mind and he said a silent prayer for her, hoping she had found peace and thanking her for being a good mother to him. He couldn't allow the events of his life to cause him to forget her, but at the same time he couldn't allow his grief to relax his focus. Guilt was settling in for not having seen her for as long as he did. Pausing a moment, he looked over to Yuki, whose spirit guide suddenly appeared and seemed to be whispering something to her. She got up, made her way to Dorian and put her arms around him. He smiled at her spirit guide as they embraced.                                                                                     They spent the night and into the early morning working on the riddle. Dorian was typing word translations for the symbols and arranging the dot configurations while Yuki looked over websites with information on how to crack ciphers. She fell asleep on the couch and a few moments later her spirit guide appeared before him. She was dressed in a beautiful set of robes, shimmering with a multitude of colors that would be hard to describe to mortal minds. Her face glowed with a brightness and her expression was very loving. They looked at each other for a moment; then Dorian attempted communication telepathically, not certain how else to proceed.                                                                                                                              “Hello there. My name is Dorian, I'm a friend to Yuki. You probably already know that. Who might you be?”                                                         “Peace be with you. I am Hadriel. I have been with and watched over Yuki since her birth. It seems we both love her very much,” she said as she moved closer towards him.

              “I know you have important things to do, but should anything come to harm her, please let me know. I haven't learned how to move my spirit form yet, but if you are able to connect to me somehow I would be grateful,” Dorian said.                                                                                                                “The enemy, they are looking for you, Arrai'el. We have been trying to obscure their vision, so you would remain hidden to them, but they will find you here eventually,” she said. Reaching out her hand, she held his in hers. He could feel her love, which was overwhelming, unconditional, and full of peacefulness; so much that he did not want to let go.                                                                                                                                             “We now have a special bond that connects us with Yuki,” she continued.  “Should something happen to her, you will feel your Shi fluctuate and you will know,” she said, as Dorian was almost melting in blissful peace and tranquility.                                                                                                  “Thank you. If you should decide to visit for any other reason, you know, so we could hold hands like that, I would be fine with it,” he said, half joking, half serious. Hadriel smiled and laughed.

              “Until we meet again,” she said, fading into nothingness.

              He smiled in return. “Until we meet again.”                                                       

 

              By some stroke of luck Dorian managed to get a few hours of sleep  without any disaster befalling him. Groggy, but awake, he cooked up a few potato cakes and poured some juice, saving some for Yuki. Afterwards he began prepping the house and packing his important belongings, selecting a picture that he wanted to remember his parents by, as well as a small square of his mother's favorite blanket to keep with him.  Yuki was up and had her bags packed and ready to go when the taxi arrived to bring them to the airport.

              They arrived at the airport earlier than anticipated so Yuki used the opportunity to continue her research into solving the code while Dorian was looking at the news on the monitors which showed the stock exchange in New York. It had not yet opened; however, it was already experiencing immense premarket selling pressure. These losses meant many pension funds would go broke, undoubtedly forcing some retirees to require the services of food banks. The Norwegians were much better at handling their resources than the Americans and there didn't seem to be any sense of panic in the streets, even after the huge earthquake they had suffered.               The time of Dorian's departure approached. “Here is my house key, take it. If you want to stay there you're more than welcome to. Your sister can stay there also; I have plenty of spare bedrooms. Call me as soon as you get to Japan, or text me. I'll do the same when I arrive in Italy. I'll be keeping in regular contact with you to monitor your progress whenever I can. I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart, Yuki, for all you've done. You've been a blessing to me and I want you to know that,” he said wrapping his arms around her. Amongst the other passers-by he noticed Hadriel standing in the back and smiling at him. He caught her smile and returned it in kind.                                                                                                   “I will miss you,” Yuki said, putting her hand on his face.                             He leaned in and gave her a kiss. “I will miss you also.”              

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Thirteen

 

 

                                                                                                                                            Approximately two hours after their planes had departed, multiple vehicles approached Dorian's mother's home. Several tall figures wearing grey cloaks got out and quickly made their way to the entrance. Some of the nosier neighbors witnessing the scene began to call each other, wondering if Dorian was in some kind of trouble with the authorities.               “Not here; hold fast,” Arita'el said as he held his hand up to the door. Grasping the handle he caused it to unlock, then stepped inside to search for Dorian's aura among the objects in the house. A strong residual remained on his mother's blanket. Arita'el picked it up and took with him.               “I can sense his presence moving to the south. Let us be away,” he said to the others.                                                                                                                 Dorian had two stops to get to the airport in Palermo and didn't arrive until late in the night. After getting his luggage off the carousel he found a  rental agency that had a suitable vehicle to get him to the town of Villalba.                                                                                                                              He called Yelnisha's number as he had been instructed to but there was no answer. Not wanting to wait around in the airport he decided to just head to the town and hope she would return his call by then. The GPS in the car showed about an hour and a half drive to his approximate destination, which would end up being closer to two hours to get there.               At that same time another plane was in the air in pursuit.                            “His traveling speed has slowed considerably. It appears his aura is shrouded; he is being assisted by others,” Arita'el said.                                          “What should I advise the pilot?” Lahash asked.                                          No answer was returned as Arita'el concentrated. A minute later he spoke. “Continue heading south. I will travel in astral form to improve our search. Do not disturb my meditation,” he said, looking at the others on the plane.             

              It was almost twelve a.m. by the time Dorian reached the small town of Villalba.
H
e was getting concerned, as Yelnisha had not returned his call. He thought about calling Urieth, but decided against using that method without dire need. A pub was still open, the Oasi Di Territo, midway down an old cobblestone road surrounded by travertine buildings and timeless architecture. It was a rustic and cozy place, the kind that rarely served outsiders, especially foreigners at this time of night. As soon as he walked in he sensed an uneasiness from some of the patrons. There were about nine people inside, twelve if you counted the staff. Looking about the place he decided to read their thoughts in an effort to discern if he was in any sort of danger.               A peculiar oddity struck him as he noticed a spirit that was trying to quench his thirst with the other barfly's drinks- a pitiful scene which took an unusual turn as one of the living patrons passed out and the thirsty spirit managed to hijack the body of the drunk man by climbing through the top of his head. Perhaps, Dorian surmised, the state of passing out rendered one susceptible to possession of sorts. This particular spirit must be in a type of self-created hell, a slave to the vice he had undoubtedly attained as a living soul.

              Dorian was starting to channel surf through their thoughts one at a time: angry at the world, spouse abuser, merry maker, and one very unusual man he was unable to read. “That's strange,” he thought. Was he like Dorian, or something else entirely?                                                                       The man appeared to be of advanced age, with a long, grey beard and soft eyes hidden beneath his bushy eyebrows and winter cap. Dorian casually looked over to the stranger, who not only lacked a spirit guide, but his aura was hidden also. All of the others had various colors emanating around them, a kind of electromagnetic radiation out of the visible spectrum, for those with the gift to see. There was something about this man that Dorian felt drawn to, a familiarity that he couldn't quite place his finger on. The man beckoned Dorian to join him, at which point Dorian began looking around, unsure if the man was waving at him or someone else.                                                                                                                               “Yes, you,” the man said with a smile, pointing at Dorian. “Come, have a drink with me.”                                                                                                  “That's odd. He seems friendly enough; wonder what this is about?” he thought, as he made his way across the room towards the inviting stranger. He smiled and sat down casually with a “Hello”, situating himself across from the man at one of the small tables in the back. A barmaid came by to get Dorian's drink request: a double whisky, straight up. Dorian looked over at the old man, who had no drink.                             “What would you like?” he asked.                                                                      “Oh, I'm quite fine at the moment, thank you,” the man replied.               The waitress looked at Dorian like he had two heads and muttered something under her breath. Just as he was about to peek into her mind to see what that was all about the old man spoke.                                                        “I would be more cautious if I were you. That skill tends to get one in trouble more often that you would think,”               he said. Dorian was suspicious at this point, as it was clear this was no ordinary human. The old man had a peaceful smirk on his face, yet Dorian could sense no malevolence from him, nor any heartbeat or electrical activity for that matter. It was as if he wasn't there. He checked his surroundings to see if anyone was watching the two ; however, it was obvious that no one was paying them any attention. The waitress returned with Dorian's drink, telling him in Italian that this was the only one he was getting, which seemed to bring great amusement to the old man who bellowed out in jovial laughter. No one in the bar seemed to notice the man's outburst which led Dorian to suspect they could not see this being. He composed himself and cleared his throat while Dorian took to drinking his entire glass all at once. His face went red immediately and he felt the room spin a bit.                                                                                                                               “What's happening to me?” he thought. Had he been drugged? The typical warmth that came with alcohol lasted much longer than usual, but he was also feeling woozy; his thoughts clouded. Was this the sensation of being drunk? He had no idea, but he thought that somehow the old man was involved with his predicament.                                                                      “Alcohol can have that effect on a person, you know. I can see now, why your limit is one drink,” he said, bellowing out again in jovial laughter.                                                                                                                               “Who are y-you,” Dorian asked, his speech slurring a bit. He peered over at the other patrons, making sure they weren't privy to his conversation.                                                  
                                                                            “Well, that's a good question, my boy. I have many names- too many, in fact. I should like to have fewer. I think having one name above all is special, don't you? The first and last name needed. Take, for example your name. Dorian, from the Latin Dorianus and Greek Dorieus; meaning of
the Dorian tribe or of Doris, which refers to one of the four tribes that defeated the Athens and eventually settled in Sparta,” he said, speaking in a soft, almost mesmerizing voice.                                                                                     “The Dorians had their own dialect and musical mode named after them, which I understand is the reason Iduna named you thusly. An interesting people, full of art, music, culture... and warfare,” he said, his eyes gazing off in another direction to some untold place and time. A bit of sadness seemed to adorn his face. A moment later he snapped back to his discourse. “The last name, Lystad, from old Norse
Lýsa, meaning
the shining one, and
staðr, or
dwelling. There is power in a name, you know. The power of Love, Arrai'el; above all, more than anything.”                              “How do you know my name? Did Yesh-Yeshnila, what's her name send you?”              

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