Choices

Choices

All my life, my dad gave me choices. He would always give me an option, unless it was a command to not do something; in those times, he punished me. I got punished a lot. But let’s not get into that; today is about choices.
It started when I was a kid. One of my dad’s favorite stories about me was when I was about 9 years old. My parents were dropping me and Mike off at my grandparents, probably so they could enjoy a night out together. He gave me some options. He said, “Should I spank you now, or spank you later?” Then he continued, saying, “Or, you could be good and I won’t have to spank you at all!” I responded with, “You might as well spank me now, because I know I’m going to be bad!”
Like I said, I was punished a lot.
Even as I grew older, things were always a choice. When I was about 12, my dad told me that they were going to need a new bass player for the Worship Team because our current bassist, Danny Rooks, wouldn’t be there anymore. That was when my passion for music really started. He brought out his VOX Panther bass guitar for me to learn the basics on. Then his friend, Monte, gave me a book to learn from. But the greatest gift I received, other than the love of music from my dad, was a Peavy Foundation from his best friend, Mike. I still have that bass by the way. I would go on to teach myself guitar and even have been in a few bands myself, following in my father’s footsteps.
My dad instilled in me the ability to make choices about important things. Where to go to college, when to withdraw when I got lazy, whether I should move out, then move back in, and most importantly, about moving out of state. Sometimes I regretted leaving, but ultimately I knew it was the best choice to make. I was living his dream. For much of my life I’d known my dad wanted to retire and build on his property in Colorado. Then I up and move there, almost on my own. I had family to live with temporarily, but in the five years I’ve lived there, I have learned to take care of myself. I’ve also learned how to rely on others when I’m struggling as well.
I remember him telling me how proud of me he was shortly after I moved. When he, my mom and brothers came out to Colorado that first Christmas, before they left, my dad hugged me and told me he was proud of me.
Many times over the past few years he has been there to answer when I called for advice. All he did was help me see my options and said he supported me with whatever decision I made, but that it was up to me to make. Although, I forgot to mention my stubbornness. He knew that I had probably already made up my mind but also knew that I was looking for support. That’s why he gave me options.
My options now? To shut down and never let go of him or to move on with my life and apply all he’s taught me. This is one option that I know which one he wants me to make without exception. To live my life, to love others and to follow my dreams, no matter how long they take me to fulfill them. I choose to live in such a way that both my Heavenly Father and my father who raised me to tell me that they are proud of me.

Eranithia: The Healing River: Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The town of Sparrenth was nearly vacant. News of Seth and Serina's travels from town to town, winning Eranithians to their side, preceded them.
“It seems the news of our work precedes us,” Serina said, riding along side him on a brown mare. Her long, curly, brown hair blowing in the winter wind.
“You think people have already left for Ashenland then?” Seth asked, looking over at her.
“If they weren't for us, they'd still be here.”
“Unless Arnath has taken them captive before they had a chance,” Seth suggested.
“Let's pray that's not true.”
They stopped at the largest house in the town. Two stories tall, with wraparound porches on both levels. Seth turned to the five guards traveling with them and nodded for them to wait while they approached the house. They nodded in return, stopping where they were. Seth and Serina then slid out of their saddles and approached the door together.
Seth knocked on the red painted door, admiring the bright white border of the doorway. Stepping back to his sister, he crossed his arms behind his back, waiting patiently.
A richly dressed man, with a big round belly, answered the door. An angry expression on his face, until he realized who was calling him.
“Seth, Serina.”
“Mandin,” Seth said, bowing his head in greeting.
“What brings you to my home and to Sparrenth?” Mandin asked.
Seth grinned, saying, “I think you already know, sir.”
“Ah, yes. News of your travels has reached my ears.”
Seth stared at him, waiting for an invitation into the house.
“Please, come in. Supper is being made now.”
Seth nodded, then let Serina walk in ahead of him. He searched every nook and cranny he could see as they entered the house. To their right and left was a rounded staircase to the second level. A walkway bridged the two stair cases at the top. At either end was a door to a room, and hallways heading back towards the front of the house. To either side of the foot of the staircases were archways into different rooms. To the right, a dinning room with a long wooden table, stained dark brown, with chairs to match. To the left was a sitting room with plush sofas and chairs.
“You have a very nice home,” Serina said sweetly.
“Thank you,” Mandin responded. He sounded annoyed by their arrival. Seth knew they wouldn't be winning Mandin to their side.
“Yes, your loyalty to Arnath has benefited you greatly,” Seth said.
He sensed Mandin's fear, even though he hid it well.
Stop it, Serina scolded him.
No, he's still loyal to Uncle. He'll probably try to kill us while we're here. Do you realize the reward Uncle will give him if he succeeds?
Then he mustn't succeed. Don't forget you have healing powers.
He sighed then said, Okay, I'll leave the coward alone.
“My loyalty isn't paying off as much as you might think,” he said, leading them into the sitting room.
At the far end of the room was a glossy grand piano stained brown like the rest of the furniture in the house.
“That is a beautiful piano,” Serina said, admiring the instrument.
“Thank you, my daughter plays as entertainment for guests. Unfortunately, she is no long here.”
“Where is she?” Serina asked sympathetically. Even Seth could hear the sadness in his voice.
“Her mother took her away a month ago.”
“And you didn't stop them?” Seth asked.
Mandin looked at him, anger like a fire in his eyes. They had betrayed him, joining Seth and Serina's cause.
“I tried everything, but somehow they still slipped away.”
“You tried to hold them captive?” Mark asked, sickened by how much Mandin was like his Uncle. Doing everything he could to have his way.
“Did you tell them you loved them?” Serina asked, changing the tone between the two men.
Mandin was at a loss for words. His mouth was caught open as if a fish hook had him around his lower jaw.
“Love is much stronger than people realize,” Serina said.
Seth admired his sister. Only she could be so warm towards someone most likely their enemy.
Mandin motioned towards the plush chairs, as he sat in his own, large, leather chair.
Changing the subject, he asked, “So what brings you to Sparrenth?”
Serina looked to Seth to explain.
“We come to offer you a chance to decide where your loyalties lie. As you know now, I did not kill Serina like our uncle had said. She had been imprisoned by him for ten years. I also did not kill my parents. All of these lies about me were committed by my uncle, whom you have been serving for almost twelve years now.”
“I know all this. I knew the lies.”
“Yet you still served my uncle?” Seth asked, tempted to pull his sword out and run it through Mandin's fat belly.
“Of course. Your uncle promised me this position. To govern Sparrenth and Trondil in any way that I please. How could I refuse such an offer?”
It was Seth's turn to be speechless.
“I know what you two are trying to do. You're dividing the kingdom. You think you can overthrow Arnath and take the kingdom for yourselves. Believe me when I say that nothing you attempt will succeed. His sorceress, Seilnai, is much more powerful than either of you can stand against.”
Serina spoke up this time, saying, “She may be powerful, but we know who she really is. We have not forgotten. We also have the key to unlock her mind. So don't think we are so powerless.”
A servant girl came in carrying a tray with a teapot and three cups and saucers. She poured each of them a cup of tea, asking each how many sugar cubes.
Seth, don't take any sugar for the tea, Serina warned him.
What? Why not?
Poison. It's in the sugar. I heard her thoughts. Her mother poisoned it in hopes of being able to escape Mandin.
“No sugar, thank you,” Seth said and Serina refused the sugar as well.
They both took sips from their cups as they continued their conversation with Mandin. The servant dropped three sugar cubes in Mandin's cup.
“Thank you, Rose,” he said, dismissing her.
The girl bowed then walked out of the room.
Mandin started to raise his cup to his lips but Serina stopped him with a question.
“What if we could offer you similar authority over Sparrenth and Trondil when we take our thrones?”
Mandin brought the tea cup back down to its saucer to think about the offer.
“You won't let me run the towns as I am now.”
“No, but you will still be in a position of power, but you will have the opportunity to be a loved Governor rather than feared and hated.”
Seth was again in admiration of his sister. She had a way with words that he doubted he could ever have himself. Had he had his own way, Seth would have left by now. The only question is, would Mandin be alive still or not?
“Do you think I care about being loved? A true leader is feared.”
“Feared and respected,” Seth corrected. “Not feared and hated. People serve a true leader with fear and trembling, but with love as well. They would do anything for him, or her, because they love him, or her.”
Mandin seemed to think about their words.
“Think about how much more you could have if your people loved you. You would get your family back, I can assure you that,” Serina said kindly.
Serina then slipped into Mandin's mind, hearing his thoughts.
Seilnai should be here any moment. Soon I will have my reward for handing over Seth and Serina to Arnath.
Serina connected to Seth, saying, Let him drink. He is lying. Seilnai is on her way here right now to capture us and take us back to Uncle.
Seth nodded slightly as he took a sip of his tea. Mandin did the same.
Seth and Serina sat watching Mandin for the next few seconds. Waiting for the poison to take affect.
“Now...” Mandin started to say. “I...” he coughed roughly, “...I...” sweat began to bead up on his forehead. Another cough, rougher than the first, sweat poured down his reddening face, his coughing became more and more violent. Standing up, his eyes rolled into the back of his head. As he fell forward, Seth and Serina stood, letting him fall to the floor.
The servants came running into the room. Looking from their dead master to them several times before speaking.
“Take us with you,” the girl who'd served the tea said.
“You meant to poison us as well. Why should we help you?” Seth asked. He didn't ask because he didn't want to help, but to test them.
“I know of you and your sister and the abilities you possess. That's why I thought about the poisoned sugar,” she said, fearful tears pooling her green eyes. Blinking, the tears fell over her heavily freckled face.
“And how did you know about our abilities?”
Rose looked at Seth terrified, too afraid to speak.
“Just tell me,” he said softer.
“S-Sol came to me in a dream last night. He knew Mandin's evil heart and said he would get in the way of your work. He said Mandin couldn't be swayed, that his mind was too poisoned with greed to join your side.”
“Sol had you do this?” Seth asked.
“Yes, He said Mandin was lost to Turmna.”
Serina grabbed his arm suddenly. Looking at her he saw the alarm in her eyes.
“What is it?”
“Seilnai is here,” she said in almost a whisper.
The servants looked at each other then back at them again.
“There is a way out. A secret tunnel built years ago by my father,” the girl said.
“Where does it lead?” Seth asked.
“A mile west of here, in the woods.”
“Lead the way.”
The girl took the lead to the foyer of the house. She and one other girl, who looked much like her only younger, pulled aside the large rug in the entry way. The first girl felt for something in the floor. Finding what she was looking for, she lifted a wooden ring out of the floor. Grabbing hold of the ring she pulled up and a section of the floor raised up revealing wooden stairs leading into blackness.
Serina cupped her hands together then separated them a few inches, forming a bright, blue orb of light. She sent the light floating down the steps.
“Lead the way,” Seth said smiling at the servant girl.
As she started down the stairs, a loud crash of glass breaking caught Seth's attention. In the Dinning Room was a bottle with a flame burning a piece of cloth.
“Move!” he shouted, running for the bottle.
Seth lifted the bottle and sent it right back out of the window, where it exploded. Then two more came crashing through the window in the Sitting Room. They lifted back into the air then went through the window again, exploding over the wraparound porch, blowing out the window completely and leaving a gaping hole in the wall, large enough for someone to walk through.
Four more flaming bottles entered the house, two in the Sitting Room, and two in the Dining Room.
“Let's go!” Seth shouted again.
Following his sister down the stairs, he flew forward into the ledge as the bottles exploded, one after another. Wood and glass cut the back of his neck and his hands and arms. The wind knocked out of him, he fell onto the stairs, then everything went black...
A sharp slap to his left cheek brought him out of the blackness. Looking around he came to his senses again. An orange glow shined through the floorboards above him, a blue orb bounced behind his sister's head.
“Let's go, Seth!” she said with urgency.
He forced himself to his feet, dizziness confusing his steps. His arm wrapped around Serina's shoulder, he realized she was helping him walk. After a few steps he regained his focus. Letting go of Serina, he led her through the dark tunnel thirty yards until it made a sharp turn to the right. Picking up the pace, the blue orb stayed just a few yards ahead, lighting their way. Serina was right on his heels as he continually picked up the pace. They were in a light jog when they finally caught up with the servants.
“Does this only go one way?” Seth asked.
“Yes,” the first servant girl said.
“Good,” he said. “Serina, try and contact our guard, make sure they're safe. I'm going to go ahead and make sure everything is safe when you come out.”
“Wait!” Serina said stopping him from running off.
“What?”
She created another blue orb for him.
“So you don't trip. It'll stay ahead of you no matter how fast you go.”
He grinned saying, “Thanks.”
“Be careful.”
“You know me,” he said turning away.
“You're right. I do,” he just barely heard her say as he ran away.
Speeding through the tunnel, the dirt walls were a blur. The light stayed ahead of him, over his head to light up the tunnel without blocking his view. Within a couple of minutes he'd run the mile it took to get to the end of the tunnel. At the end was an iron, spiral staircase. The blue orb led the way up the stairs, stopping at a wooden door, just like the one they'd entered the tunnel through in the house.
Pushing up slowly on the door, he peaked outside making sure no one was around when he exited the tunnel. The silence was thick in the woods. He could smell a fire in the distance. Mandin's house most likely.
Daring a better look, he pushed the door open the rest of the way. Ready with a single knife, he scanned for any living creature. Finding nothing more than a few nocturnal creatures, he put his knife away and made his way back towards Mandin's house. Cresting the hill, the flames from the house came into view. Sitting down because of his shaky legs, he watched as the house burned. Seilnai's troops danced wildly around the burning house. From the distance, it was difficult to see if they were even human.
Ten minutes later, Serina and the servants joined him on the hill. He heard gasps from the servants but Serina remained silent. Looking up at her, he found it just as difficult to read her expression as it was to make out the shapes of Seilnai's troops.
“Serina?” he asked standing up.
No answer.
“Serina, what is it?”
Still no answer.
Instead of prying farther, he just watched the house burn until, finally, it collapsed.
“Our guard is dead,” she whispered.
“What?” he asked, turning towards her.
“They were killed before we escaped the house,” she explained.
“Seilnai?” he asked looking back down at the burning house. Her troops were leaving.
Serina nodded, saying, “Her troops are evil. I can't read their thoughts.”
“What do you mean?” he asked, facing her again. The winter wind was picking up, blowing her hair wildly. Tears stained her lightly tanned cheeks. Her exposure to the sun the last year and a half had brought color back to her face.
“I mean, their minds are so full of Turmna, I can't get in. Even if I could, I don't know if I'd be able to get out again.”
“You mean they're from Underworld?” he asked.
She nodded again.
“It's a prophecy fulfilled. An army of Underworld will arise in the last days. Sol will wipe them out with one mighty roar.”
“Let's pray that comes soon,” Seth said, watching Seilnai's army as they began to head north for Trondil. “We have to tell Garandol what happened.”

My Dad: A Living Example of Christ

The godliest men aren’t those who are seemingly perfect. They are the ones who are an example of Christ despite their imperfections. They reject legalism rather than practice it. If someone makes a mistake, they correct them in love and gentleness and don’t shut them out, and if they do use a firm hand, they convey their love afterward as well.

My dad was a man just like this. He didn’t get on someone’s case because they let a swear word fly in anger, or even in a joke. In fact, he was sometimes the one who would make such a joke, or use such language when he was really angry. Did this stop people from seeing Jesus in him? No! In fact, these things aren’t even what people remember about him.

Since my dad passed away a few days ago, the things I’ve heard about my dad from others have just been proof of the Christ-like example he was to others. One of the best stories I heard was from David Green, a man who my parents went head-to-head with on more than one occasion. He respected the fact that my dad stood up to him and fought for his youngest son. However, one day, after a classmate of mine had died in a tragic motorcycle accident, David was at the location of the accident. My dad, with my brother with him, were driving by. My dad pulled over to see if David was okay. When David told my dad he didn’t have to stop, all my dad said was that he was worried about him. David about broke down into tears right then.

That’s just one story of my dad’s Christ-like behavior. And within that story, there were two examples of Jesus. The fact he cared about someone he’d had a fierce argument with, plus the way he had fought for one of his children. Jesus fought for us, and won.

Something I think I’m learning is, you can try your best to be like Christ, but you’re gonna fail. I know that’s a simple biblical truth, but that’s not quite the failing I’m talking about. Yeah, my dad may not have won that “fight” with David before, but he still fought valiantly for his son and won the continued love from my brother. He also earned the respect of his “enemy” as well. My point is, I’m sure in that heated argument, my dad lost his temper, may have even said some words he hadn’t meant to say, but ultimately, the language my dad may have used isn’t what people are remembering. God may bring it up, but I know Jesus will be at his side and vouch for him. He’s forgiven.

My father’s life was an example of the most cliché thing I hate seeing. You know that whole “Live, Laugh, Love” crap you see on everything nowadays? Well, that was him. He loved to laugh, and make others laugh. He loved others more than himself, right up to the day he died. And he lived. Boy did he live. He followed his dreams as far as God took them. He had bands throughout his life; he was able to raise a family who loved him and learned how to love others; he coached Cross Country and Track at Yorba Linda High School. He was the first coach there and the team did much better than was expected. Just goes to prove how good of a coach he was.

I witnessed another great example of the man he was through some of the guys he coached. One kid in particular wrote my dad a letter, telling him how he was the most influential man in his life. Such a huge thing to be told. This just days before my dad passed. My dad told those guys that they were the best and to go out and prove it. I think his words were for more than just running. I believe these words were in life too. Yes, he wants them to go out and prove themselves out on the cross country courses and out on the track, but he also knows their character. That’s just how he was. He just knew the people in his life. He got them.

I even saw how he understood me. From things as simple as a TV show he knew I would like. I remember one summer visiting from Colorado and him saying, “You should watch this.” I told him not to make me watch it because I didn’t need another show to get addicted to. He was like a drug dealer, but for television shows. I watched the episode and fell in love with the show immediately. Turns out, it was the first episode of the second season. I said, “Dad! I said not to get me hooked. Now I gotta find out how Michael Weston ended up in the back of a semi-truck trailer!” Therefore, my addiction to Burn Notice started. He did the same thing with other shows. For my birthday one year, he sent me the first season of Heroes, and it turned out to be one of my favorite shows. Like I said, he knew me.

My love for TV was something I learned came from him. We had very similar tastes in TV, music, movies, etc. Most importantly, he influenced my love for God. If I can be as good of an example of the love of Christ half as much as my father was, then I know I will influence many lives. He knew that love was more important than rules, love was more important that people’s mistakes, love was more important than whether they cussed sometimes, love was above all. He didn’t try to give a perception of perfection. He just tried to be the best example of Christ he could be. If I can be half the man my dad was, I will still be a great man…

Eranithia: The Healing River: Chapter 1

Chapter 1

A thick blanket of snow covered Eranithia. It was the dead of winter. Most Eranithian's celebrate this time of year with winter festivals, parties, and the Marsh People's firework display to bring in the New Year. However, all of these celebrations are long since passed. Now being the third month of the year, called Treoraigh. Treoraigh ushers in the Spring season.
No celebrations of the end of Winter will be had this year, just like the past eleven years, since Arnath stole the throne. There isn't a soul in Eranithia who can find a thing to celebrate, knowing he's on the throne. But certain events have been put into motion that is bringing hope to the people.
The true king and queen of Eranithia have been traveling their small country to win the people to their side. A proverbial line in the sand has been drawn. Those who wish to fight for peace join Seth and Serina. All those who are too afraid to stand against Arnath, and lack faith in Sol to get them through, take their rightful place at Arnath's side.
It was a cold, hard condition but it was what needed to be decided.
Those who have chosen to side with Seth and Serina have fled their homes in Eranithia to be looked after by the Elves in Ashenland. As soon as the dark sorceress, Seilnai, learned of their treachery against Arnath, she and her evil troops trampled the town, killing everyone. Man and woman, young and old. Children were not spared in fear they would grow to avenge their parents' deaths. If there is one thing a tyrannical king doesn't need, it's a secret rebellion growing stronger under his nose. Those children would grow to become warriors who would outnumber his own one day. Therefore, his kingdom would fall.
However, the rebellion that grew formed right before Arnath's eyes. The only thing he could do was try and kill any that tried to escape. So for this reason alone, he scattered troops all over the land. Some are his own men, others are battalions of men from across the sea, called the Cathians.
As evil as Arnath may be, he's not a dimwitted man. Before he had the power of his sorceress, Seilnai, he had the power of the sorcerer, Engard. Engard had suggested seeking assistance from the Cathians and the Geoth. Arnath had been insulted by the suggestion at first, but as reason sank in, he knew he would need their numbers.
There is nothing to stop the Cathians from coming to Eranithia, except for the Elves and the Centaurs. However, during the reign of an evil king, the Elves restrict themselves from crossing their borders into Eranithia. Considering this is their only way to the shores of Eranithia and Kushen, they were unable to stop the Cathians from landing on Eranithian soil.
For three months, the Centaurs have put up a great defense against the Cathians, but it didn't stop them from reaching Arnath's castle.
To ensure safe passage for Eranithian refugees, Seth put Mark in charge of a small team of the best fighters Ashenland had to offer. Mark called them his special ops team. He'd hoped to have Sasha-Ingatu with him, but he had volunteered to take a regiment across Eranithia to assist the Centaurs against the Cathians trying to breech their borders.
Despite his disappointment of Sasha not joining him, Mark was extremely pleased with his team. He had two sharp shooter archers, he called them snipers; six expert swordsmen; his second; and himself. In the past year, none of their number have fallen.
Mark, looking through his spyglass, given to him by Efreal as a gift, watched the camp of Cathian soldiers. In the center stood a tent much larger than the rest. There, Mark knew, was where their Captain slept, surrounded by his men for safety. The rest of the men slept in small tents made for a single soldier.
Mark was disgusted by the display of arrogance. Seth was to be king but he never put himself above the others he traveled or fought with. He slept on the ground like the others and if the weather called for tents, his was exactly like the others. Mark though it was smart strategically as well. If Seth kept himself equal to all appearances, he'd be harder to find, therefore harder to assassinate.
Mark's second crawled up next to him in the cold snow. Looking over he saw her breath escape her mouth in thin clouds. She'd been reluctant to join his team as his second, feeling she was a more experienced warrior than him, but over the past year, they'd grown to be a great team, and great friends. They've saved each others lives countless times in battle and rescued each other from capture in enemy camps. They have even taken care of each other when the weather was severe.
“How many are there?” she whispered.
“A hundred.”
The beautiful, dark-haired Elf frowned unimpressed as if a hundred soldiers were nothing. They'd faced more together before.
He chuckled at her response, “I guess it's not that much is it, Karis?”
“We've faced more. Let me see,” she said.
Her hand brushing against his as she took the spyglass sent his stomach into cartwheels. He'd always found her attractive since the day they met in that cave. At the time she'd had feelings for Seth, but Seth had made it clear to her that they could never be more than friends and fellow soldiers. But over time she'd forgotten her feelings for Seth and embraced the soldier's life more. Mark couldn't tell how Karis felt about him, because she'd never shown any obvious interest in him, but he was hopeful. There were times he wondered. Mark had almost caught her looking at him one time. She had just looked away when he had turned towards her. Then there was a moment while they were alone together in a cave...
“They're about to change guards,” she said, interrupting his thoughts.
She looked at him, catching him staring. Ignoring his stares, she gave him the spyglass then pushed on his chin, twisting his head back to the camp. Seeing she was right about the guard change, he rolled over onto his back, signaled to his snipers then to four of his foot soldiers.
The four foot soldiers sneaked away into the darkness. Their job was to extinguish the four torches at each corner of the camp, allowing Mark to lead the others into the camp in darkness.
Rolling back onto his stomach, he studied the camp again. The guard was changed, and every tent was dark. It was time. Raising his hand, he signaled the snipers one more time. When his hand fell, two guards did as well. Arrows through their throats kept their deaths silent. Mark repeated the signal and the last two guards were down. The foot soldiers at each corner would know when to fulfill their job.
Mark put the spyglass away in a pouch hanging from his belt. Laying perfectly still he waited until the torches were extinguished. Then, looking at Karis, he gave her a wink. Together, with the last two soldiers, they raised up out of the snow, heading for the camp.
They moved slowly to minimize the noise as the snow crunched below their feet. Moving into the camp would be easier since the Cathian Captain had his soldiers clear the area of snow to make it easier to set up their tents.
The damp ground kept their footsteps silent as they weaved their way through the white tents to the large one in the center. Karis stood guard with the others as Mark went into the tent alone. It was pitch black inside, Mark stood blinking for a few seconds to let his eyes adjust. At the far end of the tent from the entrance laid a man on a dozen or so large pillows.
Stepping lightly and silently he crossed the distance from the entrance of the tent to the sleeping Captain. To be sure of a silent escape, Mark struck one of the Captain's temples, then picked him up and carried him out of the tent. Karis led him through the tents while the others kept an eye out for a wandering soldier.
Mark heard the quiet thud and sickening sound of metal entering flesh. Glancing to his right, he saw a Cathian soldier fall to the ground holding his neck where a throwing knife stuck out. One of his men went over and broke the soldier's neck before he could cause a commotion.
It didn't take long to leave the camp and get back to their lookout post. From there, Mark left his two snipers as lookouts in case the Cathian soldiers came for an attack.
A half a mile deeper into the woods, they came to their camp. Mark dropped the heavy Captain then two of his men tied the unconscious man to a tree.
“Shall we wake him?” Karis asked.
“Let me catch my breath first. He was a little heavier than I was expecting,” Mark said, his chest heaving with heavy breaths.
“He wasn't too heavy for our big, strong leader was he?” Karis teased giving him a wink.
He laughed and said, “I'd like to see you do better.”
Karis stood ready to attack Mark. Mark just stared back at her, but he flinched as she took a step forward.
Laughing at him, she said, “Not afraid of a woman now are you?”
Bowing to her in defeat, he said, “Only of you, Karis. Only of you.”
She gave him another wink as she walked towards the fire in the center of their camp. Mark found it impossible to think of being with any other woman but her. She was so strong and sure of herself, but there was a softer side of her he longed to see more of. She'd let her guard down once after rescuing him from Arnath's General.
He'd been stripped to just his under garments, his wrists bound together and extended above his head. The rope that held him up had him high enough off the ground to where his toes just barely scraped the soil. The General beat him every morning for three mornings before Karis and a handful of his men came in to rescue him. Arnath had to promote a new General after that event.
Mark turned back to the Cathian Captain, thinking about the many Generals Arnath had promoted. Since Broc, Arnath had gone through seven top Generals. Seilnai was made commander over the entire army, second only to Arnath. He called her his daughter and queen of Eranithia. But Mark knew who she really was. His twin sister. Her mind, poisoned by the one who called her daughter.
What a loving father, he said.
His blood beginning to boil as he thought of what Arnath was doing to his sister. The things he ordered her to do that she couldn't stop herself from. It made Mark sick with anger.
One of his men brought him a bucket of water. He tested the temperature. Nearly ice. In fact there were a few brittle pieces of ice forming on the surface. He knew exactly how it would feel when the water made contact with the Captain's skin. It was the way he'd been woken up every morning while hanging by his wrists from that tree. The ice cold water biting every piece of your skin it touched. The shock it sent your body into, increasing the pain of the beating.
Throwing the water into the Captain's face seemed to bring him a sense of justification for what he'd gone through almost a year ago. Some scars still remained; physical and emotional.
The Captain woke up with a violent shake then continued to shiver as he came to his senses.
“What is the meaning of this?” he demanded through chattering teeth.
“Not used to Eranithian winters?” Mark asked, kneeling down in front of him.
Mark saw a flash of fear come over the Captain's face as recognition came over him.
“What are you orders Captain?” Mark broke small pieces off of a twig from the ground.
The Captain kept his mouth shut. He was braver than Mark expected.
“Okay, let's start with a simpler question. What's your name?”
“I am Vin Armadd, Captain of the thirty-first troop of the Cathian army,” he said full of pride.
Mark tried to place the accent. Of course, all he could compare it to was accents from his own world. If he had to guess, he would say Bulgarian, maybe Middle Eastern.
“Well, Captain Armadd, what were your orders?” Mark asked him again.
Armadd laughed at him, showing his yellow teeth, spilling out his putrid breath. Mark suppressed a gag.
“You foolish boy. Do you really think I'm going to tell you anything?”
“Maybe not me, but I do have a reader here. He can tell me what you've been ordered to do.”
“Mind readers, ha! Nobody can penetrate my mind. I am a sealed vault.”
Standing up, Mark continued to stare at Armadd.
“Iriand, we need your assistance,” Mark said, then took a step back.
The young Elf crossed the camp, sheathing his long knives. Stopping next to Mark, he waited for his orders.
“Find out from Captain Armadd what his orders are.”
“Yes, sir,” Iriand said, then knelt down in front of Armadd. Placing his index and middle fingers on Armadd's temples and his thumbs over his forehead, Iriand began searching the Captain's mind.
Mark watched as the Captain twitched, trying to fight Iriand's ability. He could tell Armadd was failing, though. Iriand's head would twitch at different times as he fought through a different defense Armadd tried to throw up.
Mark knelt down next to Iriand, watching the Captain's attempts to fight Iriand off. Then suddenly Iriand pulled away from the Captain. Mark saw Iriand's eyes roll into his head as he passed out. Mark reached out, catching him before he hit the ground. He picked Iriand up and carried him to the fire, laying him down on the ground.
Iriand's eyes blinked open. Looking around, confused, he looked like he didn't know where he was.
“Iriand?” Mark said, trying to read his expressions.
He looked at Mark like he didn't know him.
“Iriand, what happened?”
“Who's Iriand?” he asked Mark.
Staring back at the young Elf, Mark didn't know what to say.
Karis knelt next to him.
“Don't you have the same powers as Seth?”
“I have the same kind of strength, but I don't think I have his healing powers.”
“Try,” she said.
Looking at her, her bright, light brown eyes pierced him. How could he argue with her? The answer was simple. He couldn't.
“Do you remember anything?” he asked Iriand.
The Elf seemed to be growing more scared by the second.
Mark grabbed Iriand's shoulder firmly.
Looking directly into his eyes Mark asked again, “Do you remember anything at all Iriand?”
“Why do you keep calling me Iriand?
“What is your name then?” Mark asked him.
“I-I don't remember.”
Mark looked at Karis again, then back at Iriand.
“I'm going to try and heal you. Will you let me?”
Iriand looked at Karis. She seemed to be most familiar to him.
“I know you,” he said to her.
“Of course you do. I'm your cousin, Karis.”
Mark looked at her suddenly. Why didn't he know this? Did this mean she was Lana sister? Or was there another sibling amongst their parents that he didn't know about?
Karis ignored him as she tried to get through to her cousin.
“Listen, your name is Iriand. This is Mark and he is going to try and fix whatever broke inside your mind. Will you let him?”
Iriand's eyes bounced from Karis's to Mark's. Finally he began to relax. There was something about Karis he trusted. Mark wondered if blood was more than just the life source for living beings. If maybe it carried a bond with family that not even memory loss could break.
“Yes,” Iriand said finally.
Reaching for Iriand, Mark placed his right hand on the side of Iriand's head. He closed his eyes and prayed to Sol. His hand began tingling with warmth. When he opened his eyes he found his hand glowing with a soft, white light. Closing his eyes again, he saw into Iriand's mind. It was black like a dark poison sifted through his braincells. Then Mark focused on the black and it began to leave Iriand's mind. Like a vacuum sucking up a pool of black water.
When the black was gone from Iriand's mind, Mark pulled his hand away, falling back onto the soft soil.
“How do you feel?” Karis asked Iriand.
He looked at her, this time knowing everything he once knew.
“I feel fine. What happened?”
“When you read Captain Armadd's mind, you were somehow poisoned,” Mark said, feeling drained of all his energy. He could barely raise his arms.
“How was he able to do that?” Iriand asked.
“Seilnai,” Mark said trying to stand up. “She must have put some kind of protection over the military leaders to keep them from giving secrets away.”
“Well, it didn't work, whatever she did. I was able to find what his orders were,” Iriand said.
Twisting his head around quickly, Mark looked at Iriand, asking, “Really?”
“Yes, they are heading for Fortuna to take it back.”
“Of course!” Mark said. “It was the first place to join our side. Their rebellion cost Arnath his financial resources!”
“It's also the largest city in Eranithia. Close to the Gar Mountains. It's well protected. A natural defense,” Karis said.
“Trien!” Mark called out.
A tall, black haired Elf walked up to him.
“Send a message to Garandol. We have reliable intelligence that Arnath is trying to take back Fortuna. Tell him, also, that we have Captain Vin Armadd of the Cathians.”
“Yes, sir,” he said bowing slightly as he walked away to send the message to Garandol.
“What do we do with Armadd?” Karis asked.
“Take him back to Ashenland as a prisoner of war.”

Eranithia: The Cave of Truth: Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Mark did his best to concentrate on holding on to Arland as they rode for Ashenland. He looked around at the others riding along with them at such a fast pace. Garandol to his left, Sasha-Ingatu beyond him. To his immediate right, Seth and Serina rode together, Karis rode just beyond them. Gaith and Hiln protected them from the rear. The soldier who'd helped them in the dungeons had stayed back as a spy for them.
Serina looked over at him with sad eyes. Her cheeks glistened with tears. Why she was crying, Mark had no idea. He reached out to her with his mind and she let him in.
Are you okay? Serina asked him.
I was about to ask you the same thing. Why are you crying?
Because I can feel your broken heart. The connection we've had throughout our conversations created a bond that cannot be broken. I cry, because you cry.
He smiled at her and said, Thank you.
We will get her back. I can see a lot of Seth in you, and I know you won't give up until she's safely back with you.
Mark laughed a little. He thought she was crazy for thinking he and Seth were so much alike, but with the common bond they had of technically having the same parents, he knew it was probably true. He wiped a tear from his eye and said, Thanks again.
She winked at him, then said, Anytime you need a friend. I'm here for you.

They didn't stop until they hit the Ashenland border the next morning. The guard recognized Karis and Sasha, so they let them into Ashenland with no questions asked. Even Gaith and Hiln were greeted warmly. Then they were all led to the caravan and taken to the castle.
Had Mark been in a better mood, he would have enjoyed the scenery on the way to the castle, but because of his mind being on Jennifer, he barely noticed it. Pretty soon he felt his energy deplete as the week's events drained him. He didn't know how long he had been out for, but Arland woke him, shaking his shoulder gently.
“Come on, Mark. Time to meet the Ri and the Banrion.”
“Huh?” he said looking around. He was in the open courtyard of a large castle.
“That would be the king and queen of the Elves.”
“Right,” he said groggily.
He stumbled out of the carriage, following Arland to a family of simply dressed Elves. He watched as a younger Elf ran and threw her arms around Serina. Then she hugged Seth and kissed him on the cheek. They greeted each other like long lost friends, even though he knew Seth had spent some time here recently. He wondered if there was more between the Elf and Seth than met the eye.
Mark followed Arland to the Ri and Banrion. Arland bowed to them so Mark did the same.
“It is good to see you again, Arland. And who might this young lad be?” Efreal asked.
“This is Mark. One of the twins.”
Efreal's eyes lit up as he took Mark's hand to shake it, “It is very good to meet you. Where is the other?”
Mark tried his best to fight back his tears, but reality seemed to crush him. He couldn't hold back his emotions and let himself cry. The Banrion came over and put her arms around him like a mother would.
“Come with me, young man,” she said tenderly. The way she spoke made him miss his mother. He hadn't thought about his mother in a long time. Regret started to sink into his stomach now. What kind of son didn't think about his mother? Anger at himself joined in the mix of his emotions.
What else can we throw on the fire while we're at it? He prayed to Sol. Mark knew Sol wasn't afraid of his anger, all Sol wanted was open honesty. Knowing that didn't help him, however. He felt guilty for his anger towards Sol. It was a misdirected anger. He was truly angry with Arnath for taking his sister captive. He was angry with Seth and Arland for allowing it and keeping him from trying to rescue Jennifer. He was angry with Jennifer for giving herself up to the enemy. He was angry with himself for not fighting back harder to try and save her. They could have all made it out together! Nobody should have had to sacrifice themselves for the others! Broc had already given his life to save Serina. Why should Jennifer have to give up her mind to Arnath?
Arland followed as Luma took them into the castle. They went up a rounded staircase two levels, down a long, wide hallway then through a set of large double doors. The room was large, but he hardly noticed. All he could think about, all he cared about was the fact that his sister had handed herself over to Arnath, and she was probably lost forever. She would be turned and more than likely renamed to forget her old self. Mark couldn't think of a time he had been more depressed.
Arland helped him lie down on the soft bed then took off his boots. Mark rolled onto his side and laid in the fetal position. There, he let his emotions fully take control. His body shook with heavy sobs. He had no idea how to save his sister. This was different than Serina. Jennifer was awake and aware of what was going on. Serina had just been put under an enchanted sleep.
“I'll take care of him from here,” Mark heard Arland say to Luma.
“Whatever he needs, please, don't be afraid to ask. He's been through a lot,” she told Arland.
“Thank you, we will come to you.”
A few seconds later, Mark heard the door shut. He was now alone with Arland. They were two people in Eranithia who loved Jennifer the most. Both sat in sad silence together. Arland let Mark get his emotions out. After a few minutes Mark rolled onto his back and stretched out his legs. He looked at Arland who stared back at him with sympathetic eyes.
“Is there anything I can do for you?” Arland asked quietly.
Mark just shook his head. He appreciated Arland's kindness, but what he really wanted was to be left alone.
“My room is right across the hall. If you need anything, you can call on me.”
“Thanks,” Mark said, his voice a little scratchy.
Arland nodded then stood to leave Mark alone.
“Arland?” Mark said, stopping him. When Arland turned around and looked at Mark, Mark asked, “Do you love my sister?”
Arland didn't answer right away. He stared at Mark for a few long moments then sat back down in a chair next to Mark's bed.
“I care about your sister very much. Probably more than I've cared about anybody in my life, since my mother. I want to get her back as much as you do.”
“You didn't answer my question,” Mark said.
Arland stared at Mark even longer than before.
“I would die for her,” Arland said.
Mark tried to give him a smile, but it was useless. He doubted he would ever smile again. His heart was so broken he didn't think happiness would ever be possible. Not until he could rescue Jennifer like they'd just done for Serina.
Arland got up from edge of the bed and walked out of the room. When the doors were shut, Mark sat up and looked around. The sun came in through the large windows. Each set on either side of his bed led to a single, large balcony.
He stood and went to a set of glass doors with white wooden frames a couple feet to the left side of his bed. Opening them he stepped out onto the spacious balcony. The light from the sun nearly blinded him, but the cold winter air refreshed him. He saw a white wooden chair with a soft cushion on the seat and back of the chair.
The cushion was also white with a floral design stitched into it. He took a seat and welcomed the comfort the cushion provided. Sitting back, he put his feet up on the balcony railing and stared out at the forest in the distance. He was on the west side of the castle looking in the direction of Eranithia. His new home he longed to live freely in.
Despite Jennifer's sacrifice, he knew they had work to do in starting a rebellion. The war wouldn't be won without an army. Their army would consist mainly of commoners who wanted the country back to the way it was before Arnath took power.
He wasn't sure how Seth would be able to convince the rest of Eranithia to join him. Serina would have to go with him. Her presence would be enough to prove Arnath had lied to them about Seth. The scabs and scars from the injuries Arnath inflicted on her would help.
He looked south, to where he thought the Eranithian castle stood, wondering if Jennifer was thinking of him.

Seth's entire party met with Efreal, Luma and Lana in the dining hall to discuss the events at the castle and their plans for the future. Gaith and Hiln stood as sentries behind Seth and Serina.
“First, is young Mark okay?” Efreal asked.
“He'll be okay. Losing his sister to Arnath was quite a blow, but I believe it will ultimately give him the drive he needs to help bring Arnath down,” Garandol said.
“But doesn't the prophesy say that together they have the power to win?”
“Yes, and we will win Jennifer back to our ranks before Arnath is taken down. But even if we don't, the prophesy could mean merely that they would have to power to enable us to win. With Seth and Serina together again, we will be much stronger. I have no doubts in their ability to bring Arnath down, with or without the twins.”
“Let's pray you are right, Garandol.”
“Is the boy hungry?” Luma asked.
“I'm sure he is, but I would rather not disturb him,” Garandol said. “His emotions and the events of the past week have worn at him. He could do with a decent rest right now.”
“Well, I would feel better about sending something up to him,” she said, sounding more like a mother than a queen. She waved a servant over and whispered what to take up to Mark, then the servant left for the kitchen to fulfill her duties.
“So, what is your proposed plan to gather the citizens of Eranithia to your side?” Efreal asked Seth.
Seth and Serina looked at each other, Serina nodded to him.
Seth nodded back, then said, “We will go town to town if we have to, sharing the truth with them. All of Eranithia believes Serina is dead. If they see her it will be proof enough that everything said about me was a lie. Then they'll want blood. It will be obvious to everyone that Arnath killed our parents.”
“Are you sure they will receive you?” Efreal asked doubtfully.
“Most likely they won't at first, but we don't have much of a choice.”
Efreal sighed then said, “I suppose not.”
“But first, we need to get Serina's strength back. I think a few days rest and perhaps some training will help. I can restore her muscles, but she'll have to retrain them.”
“Of course. I'm sure, Karis and Arland can assist in getting you both into shape.”
“Thank you.”
Efreal nodded to Seth then sighed and said, “Now, I'm sure you're all very tired and would like to wash up. Please, feel at home here. Anything you need, all you need to do is ask.”
“Thank you,” Seth said.
They all stood, then each was led to a different room by a servant. Food was set out for them in each of their rooms. After eating their fill, they washed in a deep tub in their rooms, then slipped into clothing provided for them. The beds they slept in were warm and soft. Sleep came easily to all.

As the others slept, Mark sat on his balcony just staring in the direction of the castle. He knew his sister was there, staring back at him. Longing to break from Arnath's control and join them in Ashenland. This was the hope he held onto. He couldn't lose hope that he and Jennifer would once again be together, just like Seth and Serina. Seth had lost hope for ten years, thinking he'd lost his sister forever. But when he learned the truth, his love for her gave him the drive he needed to rescue her.
Mark vowed to follow Seth's example. He would never give up on her as long as he had breath. He closed his eyes and prayed to Sol.
“Sol, I promise to never let her go. Give me the strength I need to rescue her, please. I beg you, please let it be your will that she be saved from Arnath's evil power,” he hit his knees and placed his hands on the sapphire railing, then rested his forehead against his hands. He listened for Sol's voice, but it never came. But a peace came over him as if he knew things would be alright. He looked into the sky and thanked Sol for his answer.

Back in Eranithia a beautiful, black haired girl stood on a balcony outside of her room in the castle. Her long black dress blew behind her in the wind. Her blue eyes stood out like two bright sapphire stones. Black painted lips pressed together as she showed no emotion, save for the single tear falling down her cheek. She wanted nothing more than to break down and cry, but something kept her from fulfilling her desire.
A tall figure stood in the doorway of the doors leading to her balcony from her room. Arnath stepped towards her, his evil grin wider than ever, proud of the work he'd done. He now had a dark witch stronger than Engard could have ever been. Even though she wasn't looking at him, she could see the proud smile on his face. He looked like a proud father standing before his daughter, knowing full well her powers were stronger than his if she were free to use them as she pleased, but also knowing he had complete control over her.
“Come, daughter,” he decided to call her. “I have something I wish to show you.”
She turned towards him, unable to resist his command. Her knee high boots clacked loudly over the stone floor as she followed the king through her room. Servants were busily cleaning the once cobweb ridden room. Everything was being replaced. The once bright and cheery room that had belonged to Serina was becoming a dark and dreary. The four post bed that once adorned light, transparent pink and lavender décor, now had thick black and red fabrics hanging in half-circle loops. The walls that had been decorated with portraits of Serina and her family now had a large, iron-welded dragon. Turmna, in one of her fearsome forms.
Arnath led her by the hand down the hallway, up another set of stairs, then down one more, wide hallway. It only led one way, and that was to the main balcony, which over looked the courtyard and gave a breathtakingly beautiful view of the Stone Step Mountains.
When they reached the edge of the balcony she looked at the sight Arnath wanted to show her. One-hundred thousand men in formation stood at attention for her.
“My faithful!” Arnath shouted out to them. “I present to you! Your general! Your queen! My daughter! Seilnai!”
A booming roar of cheers from the men below erupted, vibrating through the floor of the balcony. Seilnai, stood staring, still stone faced, still wanting to burst into tears, but unable. She hated her foreign name, but she was having a hard time remembering her true name. Seilnai was the only name she knew to respond to anymore.
“They love you,” Arnath whispered hoarsely. “They will do all you command. If they don't,  you have the power to kill them.”
Seilnai didn't say anything. She just stared at the army before her, wanting to test them out by storming Ashenland, but also wanting to crush them where they stood. She had the power, she didn't need an army to rule the kingdom with her new father. Why did she even need her “father”? He didn't feel like a father to her. Just a man using her for his own gain. How dare this weakling of a man use the most powerful woman in Eranithia to do his bidding? What right did he have?
A part of her wanted to break through Arnath's power over her, but another part wanted nothing but complete control over everyone and everything. To be the first true empress over Eranithia, over Kushen, over Ashenland and Shardin and Geotha! This was Arnath's plan was it not? To rule the world they knew. Who could possibly stop Seilnai? No one!
She would fulfill this destiny...