James
The Orb came clean off with little prompt, and he quickly wrapped a cloth around it, shielding the obvious glow from nosy eyes. It even appeared to make a purring noise as he tucked it away. It was warm to the touch, but not unpleasantly so. Reeling from the vision, he took a moment to move away from the vine and gather his wits.
Had it really been that simple? Steal a cloak, join the workers, grab an Orb. No one batted an eyelid as he slipped through the tunnels into the holiest of all temples?
“The akati really are a trusting sort.” He snorted.
With the hood pulled up, he moved towards the tunnel. There was a certain spring in his step he had to school carefully. Not all plans, hardly any, ever worked out the way he planned from the get-go. His usual method was: Make a plan, acknowledge the plan, expect the plan to fail miserably, toss it out the window, and wing it. Yet, here he was.
He forced his legs to slow down, grabbing a spray of sorts from a workstation, mimicking what the pretty girl was doing just up ahead. She had yet to reach the place he had stood, even though it felt like an eternity had passed since his fingers first grazed the Orb. His tattoo throbbed like a faint memory of the pain the angel caused him.
Tending to the garden in what he hoped wasn’t too obviously amateurish, James made his way all along the chamber until he was just a few steps away from the entrance. Satisfied, he hooked the spray onto the tool belt and turned.
And came face-first with a friendly-looking older man with a long grey beard who kept getting in the way when he tried to move past him. The man appeared oblivious of it. But six times was two times more than a mere coincidence. James bit back his frustration.
“Don’t make a scene,” he urged himself. “You’re almost there.”
The man, stooped with age, had far too many tools on his own belt, but his grin was wide and open. His eyes glazed as he nodded at the flowers James had just sprayed. Cold spread through him. What was in that spray? Had he killed all the plants? Would a temple worker make that mistake? His thoughts spiraled.
The old man chuckled and made a clicking noise. “Tut-tut. They’re coming up pitchperfect, aren’t they? You spray them too hard, they won’t be as strong if you do that, see?”
Without a hint of embarrassment or concept of personal space, he reached around and took the spray from James’ belt and bent down, holding it at eye level before pressing the button. The contents of the spray spread out in a perfect fan before landing on the petals more evenly than he would have thought possible.
The man tried to give it back. James declined. “Clearly, this is a job for a seasoned caretaker.”
Again, he tried to pass, and again the older man just sort of stumbled in the way. All the while humming to himself, examining the flowers.
“Mm-hm. You are nearly done, aren’t you? Tut-tut. The nectar will be sweet and oh, will it kick,” he said with a satisfied voice and stretched, bones cracking as he did. “You from Kael-Vora?”
That seemed plausible. “Eh… Yes, yes, I am, and I have to get back rather urgently. So… if you’ll excuse me.”
“Oh sure, sure. Run along, run along.”
“Ta.”
James had just about taken another step when the old man piped up again.
“You are new here. Brand new. Very new. Never seen your face around these parts , and I do not forget a face, no, no. Not one with those eyes. Or with such an interesting accent. Did you lose your robe, perchance? Not that Horym would mind, but he was just violently sick.”
The old man appeared confused enough to maybe not notice if James slipped away, never to be seen again. But if he dismissed the old man as a delusional fool and was wrong, he doubted he would have enough time to slip out of Hsi Ten and make it back to the ship.
Making a quick, potentially ill-fated decision to take the old man at his word, James put on his very best charmingly disarming smile.
“Is that so?”
He studied him, watching for any tells. The old man winked and patted the side of his nose with a finger. There was a spark in his eyes that revealed a deeper intelligence and wit than seen at first glance. “Aye, never ever. I know ‘em all. Each one. I remember every flower. Every rock.”
“I can see they mean much to you.”
The old man nodded fervently. “I have seen them all grow up. From first drop to big and strong. Each with a calling.”
“Calling?” James wondered if he had understood the word correctly. “What do you mean by calling?”
At no point during the briefing had anyone mentioned that these glow-in-the-dark Orbs might be sentient, nor what a calling meant. A chiming bell rang out, and all the workers instantly finished what they were doing. James felt the old man’s hand patting his back, chuckling away.
“Come, come. Tut-tut. Ha-a! Don’t know what a calling is. Funny, funny boy. Marmot boy.”
Trepidation replaced the indignation over being called a marmot when the old man gestured for him to follow. He was heading towards the ornate wall with all the symbols etched into it.
The other people in the temple packed up their tools and stored them away on their workstations. The old man snapped his fingers at James’ belt. So the younger man gave it to him, trying to find some solution to his current predicament. He nodded to the tunnel he’d come from.
“It was nice to meet you, but I really ought to get back.”
“Nonsense, nonsense, you just got here. Won’t have you punished for cutting temple duty, now will I? No, no. Come, come. Join old man.”
James really hadn’t thought this through. If he continued to insist, suspicion could be raised about why he was there at all. If he accepted the man’s invitation, he’d enter a land he had no means of leaving. Unless…He set his jaw. Every land had its flaws. Once inside, he could be in the wind in no time.
James threw one last, longing glance at the darkness of the tunnels before the old man half pulled, half led him around the chamber until they joined the line of workers. Peering over their shoulders, he once again felt his heart drop like a stone.
Every worker put their palm against the same circle he had seen on the outside of Passage 9-L, which made the wall translucent. By his quick estimate, the wall rippled and re-established itself approximately five seconds after the person had gone through. That didn’t give him much time at all.
He took a few deep breaths to slow down the beating of his heart. Timing had to be perfect or he’d reckon a burial inside a stone wall would be his end. Not the most pleasant way to go. James studied every person who went through, smiling at the humming old man walking behind him..
Too soon, it was James’ turn. Measuring up the man before him, he pretended to stumble on the hem of his far-too-large robe. Falling, he “caught” himself on the circle without touching it. Then he was through, falling into the person whose print had opened it.
“Watch it!” the man with the neck-scar snapped.
“Sorry.”
James bowed his head so the man wouldn’t see his face as he stalked off, muttering something he was glad he didn’t catch. With his eyes on his feet, he caught sight of the hem and the big tear on the side of it. Stuck in the wall was the missing piece, and it fell as the old man stepped through.
Grinning, he slapped James on the back as if he had done the most hilarious thing he’d ever seen. James could have sworn he mumbled something about “marmots,” but it was in a form of akatian he didn’t understand.
Taking in his surroundings, he noticed the tunnels beyond the temple looked much the same. But the floor was covered in red sand that gave off a faint, fragrant smell and stuck like glue to your shoes. It made the light more ethereal, a little more ominous than on the other side of the wards.
A part of James couldn’t help but jump with excitement as they took tunnel after tunnel that led ever downwards. At last, he could see the light at the end of it and felt his pace quicken. The small boy in him couldn’t wait to step out from the darkness into the brightness of the land that lay beyond. The legendary Akati Empire 2.0.
“Come along, boy!” The old man’s voice came from somewhere up ahead. “Don’t just gawk. There’ a chicken pie waiting for us. Tut-tut, you are a strange one, aren’t ya?”
