T

he beating of drums thundered at dawn, violently waking everyone from their slumber. These loud drums were made with the thick, resilient hides of Doarocks, the brutish

herbivorous beasts that roamed the plains. The drums were all around the city, so that everyone would be alerted to the start of the day. With their superhuman strength, the drummers pounded away; the deafening impact of each hit shook the foundations of the buildings and rattled the windows. Screaming and shouting permeated the streets as the immortals anticipated the ceremony.

Darek tumbled off his bed, shaken. During the night, he had nothing but nightmares pertaining to a rather sudden death at the coming ceremony. He was not happy about this. He had signed up for a daring mission, for infiltration and spying—not suicide.

Azura and Sorren were waiting for him at the door.
“Are you ready?” Azura asked.
Darek yawned and scratched a few morning itches. “No. Just

give me a few hours.”
“Everyone out there is so excited,” said Azura. “They are waiting
for us. You don’t want to disappoint them, do you?”
“Actually, I don’t mind disappointing them,” said Darek,
climbing back into bed. “Just tell them I didn’t wake up. Let them be
disappointed.”
“You have to go!” Azura shouted. “Don’t you remember what
the letter said?”
“Letter?” asked Sorren. “What letter?”
“Um, I meant…the leather…” Azura coughed and cleared her
throat. “Anyway, Darek, you can’t back out now! Everything’s
going to be all right.”
“No.” Darek pulled the covers over him. “Just leave me alone.” “Come on, Sorren.” Azura elbowed him in the chest. “It’s your
turn to convince Darek to come. We need the extra hand in the
mission.”
Sorren sighed. He didn’t want to get involved. He just stood by
the side of the bed and said, “Just go or Azura will be angry. Don’t
worry. It’s not like there’s anything weird going on. They aren’t
going to sacrifice you or anything.”
Darek shot out of bed and snapped, “That’s exactly what’s going
to happen!”
“He’s not going to change his mind,” Sorren told Azura. “Let’s
leave him and go. It should still be fine with the two of us.” “No!” Azura scowled. “You barely even tried!”
“If it sounds like I don’t care, well…I don’t,” replied Sorren
truthfully.
“And I do care,” Azura said. “Now convince him! I’m not
leaving without Darek. And without me, you’re on your own in the
mission.”
“Getting pushy,” mumbled Sorren. “Fine.” He tapped Darek on
the shoulder; Darek’s eyes rolled up as his breath momentarily left
him. Darek fell back onto his bed, unconscious and helpless. Concerned, Azura asked, “What’d you just do?”
“I clouded his mind. He’ll have trouble trying to collect his
thoughts.” Sorren tried to make Darek sit up on the bed. “I’m
surprised he didn’t put up much of a fight.”
“How could you do such a thing?” Azura shrilled, exasperated
by his actions. “I told you to convince him, not put him to sleep! I
want him to come to a decision on his own.”
Sorren grumbled, “Darek doesn’t listen—you yell at him. I help
subdue him—you yell at me. Make up your mind. You’re totally
unreasonable.”
“I’m unreasonable?” Azura glared at him. “You’re the one who
does whatever he likes! You can’t justify your actions any way you
want!”
A knock came from the door and it opened up halfway. Windzer
stuck his head in. “Are you guys going to come out soon? It’s time.”
He looked at Darek, whom Sorren plopped back on the bed. “Partied
a little too hard last night?”
“Not quite,” muttered Sorren, as he pulled the door wide open
and left in a hurry.
“What is wrong with him?” Azura said with a sigh. “He didn’t
even bother to help me.”
“He’s just that kind of guy.” Leaning on the doorframe, Windzer
watched Sorren disappear into the crowded street. “Always aiming for the goal. Always willing to handle his problems alone if need
be.”
“It almost sounds like you know him,” Azura said, remembering
what Darek had told her the night before.
“Huh?” Windzer looked startled. “I was just saying that everyone
is different. And that he seems to me like someone who handles
things alone. Some people are just like that. You can’t change
everything about a person. You have to just understand them and
learn how to work with them.”
“You’re right,” said Azura, nodding. “That’s true. I guess I just
have to put up with him for now.”
Then Windzer gestured for Azura to leave. “I’ll carry Darek.
You need to get to the square.”
The main square was already packed by the time they arrived.
Most of the people there could barely contain their excitement; the
horde of immortals waited impatiently for the starting horn that
would signal the beginning.
“Make way for the guests!” Windzer raised his voice above the
crowd.
Heads glanced back, and when they saw Darek and the others,
the crowd parted. The anxious onlookers watched as Sorren and
Azura made their way to a special platform. Darek lagged behind,
still out cold; he had to be carried on Windzer’s shoulder the whole
way.
Azura scanned the faces of the crowd and grinned when a
familiar face caught her eye. She pinched Darek in the arm; Darek
jumped up and rolled off Windzer’s side. Darek was feeling woozy
for a few seconds before becoming fully aware of where he was. He
opened his mouth and almost let out a panicking scream, but Azura
urgently muffled him, clasping her hand over his mouth. “Shush!” Azura pointed over the crowd and said, “Tell me what
you see.”
Darek squinted and saw Rathos standing among the other
immortals, appearing perfectly fine. “He’s okay! How’d he get here
so fast?”
“I don’t know,” said Azura, shrugging. “But now you don’t have
to worry anymore. I’m sure Rathos has everything under control.” Darek let loose a big smile, overjoyed to see Rathos alive and
well.
Special elevated seating was arranged for the nobles. These
cushioned stands were positioned close to and around the center stage. Merdon took his place there, inspecting the various aspects of the ceremony with utmost scrutiny. This was the only chance for him to find out how the transformation from mortal to immortal took
place, and he was not going to let this chance slip away. Rathos nudged him and whispered, “Master, please read this.”
He handed Merdon an envelope.
“What’s this?” Merdon tore open the envelope and found a letter
inside that read:

Reign of the King You see by night. Do not wave, for

“A poem?” Merdon read the letter several times, analyzing it. “And a poorly written one at that. It does not make sense. What is this for?”

“I haven’t the faintest,” said Rathos. “I found it in my pocket just now. Could it be a warning from the elders?”
“I hope not,” said Merdon. “If this fails, we may never get a second chance. But I don’t see this as a threat from the elders. They could simply get rid of us if they wished.” He held the letter in his hand with a firmer grip. “No, there’s more to this. We have here an anonymous writer, one who possibly seeks to aid us.”
“A clue?”
“Most likely. We can’t be sure but…we’ll take what we can get.”
Merdon fell silent as several other nobles took their seats next to him.
He whispered to Rathos, “Keep it in mind. Tell me if you discover anything. We must come up with the solution before it is too late.”
When several trumpet blasts signaled the start of the ceremony, the crowd became quiet.
“It is now time for us to begin,” said an elder. He stepped in front of the platform near a pedestal and introduced himself to the group, saying, “I am Elder Zid and I will be leading this ceremony. You may remember me from yesterday. We will start with a special piece performed by our orchestra.”
Rathos asked Merdon, “Could it be the music?”
“Impossible,” Merdon replied. “It would mean that people who are deaf are immune, but I know of several people who were deaf before they became immortal.”
The song played without interruption and it was a beautiful piece that everyone enjoyed. At the end of the performance, the orchestra got up and took a bow, and the crowd showered them with applauses and flowers in appreciation.
“I want to thank you all again for coming to our humble capital,” said Zid. “It has been exactly one hundred and three years since the fall of our civilization. But no matter how hard it has been for us, we survived in the end. We fought back the monsters and rebuilt our world together! It was glorious. But it was also sad that we were alone. Today you have showed us it is not the case. We are not alone! For that, we graciously thank you.” The Elder Zid bowed his head. More loud applauses followed after his speech. Some of the people in the crowd even shed tears.
“For coming here,” Zid continued, “I shall give you my blessings in accordance with our traditions.” Zid walked up to each one of them and placed his hand upon their shoulder. He then passed on some sayings for prosperity, peace and unending life.
“Your thoughts?” asked Rathos.
“Nothing seems out of the ordinary,” said Merdon. “Words are the same as music, won’t work on a deaf person. Touch, however, is different but still unrealistic. I’m sure either you or Thedes have touched the humans on your travels, yet nothing has happened.”
Rathos thought for a moment. “But what if the immortal needs some sort of technique. Maybe casual touch would not activate the Ascension—but an imparting of power can do that. A special touch.”
Merdon said, “Even if that were the case, the few elders would had have to touch millions of people in the world for the catastrophic event to occur. That’s not possible in a few days, let alone a lifetime. Even if they spent forever trying to touch every single person, people would be getting born in places they’ve already visited, leaving many untouched children.”
Zid waved his arms at a group of servants that stood at attention nearby. The servants acknowledged the elder with a brisk nod and wheeled out carts toward the raised platform.
“Next,” said Zid, “we have some delicacies prepared for this momentous occasion.”
Zid removed the lid off of several pans to reveal cooked dishes.
“This could be it!” said Rathos, deeply concerned. “The food could contain something!”
“Don’t be so alarmed,” said Merdon. “While this is indeed a possibility, I find it hard to accept that they could achieve this on a world scale. In the past, food was distributed by many different retailers and was produced by many companies. Achieving control over this would’ve been impossible unless they were dictators.”
Darek ate whatever was placed before him and he was pleasantly surprised to find out how good it tasted. It was incredible. He especially liked the thin slabs of delectable meat coated with breadcrumbs and sugary orange syrup. There must have been a master chef who had spent his immortal life dedicated to the preparation of food.
Zid smiled. “I’m glad to see you enjoy it. Tonight you will experience more, but for now let me quench your thirst with a drink.” Zid said to a servant nearby, “Tell them to bring the water.” The servant nodded and headed through the crowd.
Merdon stood up nervously. “Give me that letter!” Rathos sensed his master’s urgency and handed the letter to him. Merdon looked it through once more and said, “This is it! This letter is not a poem, code or riddle. The diagonal words are a simple clue. Not reign, but rain; not see but sea; the waves are the waves in the ocean; the waiting is similar to wading. The writer is hinting at the water! In the past, the distribution of water was done by only a handful of major facilities. Not to mention, water is easily contaminated! Spread the word.”
In haste Rathos walked down the steps and recognized a group of his subordinates. Passing by them casually, he whispered in their ear, “There should be cups of water up ahead being prepared. The water they use is special. See to it that it is replaced with normal water.” The men made a soft guttural grunt in response and took off into the crowd. Rathos snuck around the crowd and approached a building that overshadowed the platform. He transformed into a wolf and, with graceful leaps, he jumped from ledge to ledge, scaling the building.
While the crowd was waiting for the water to be brought to the platform, Rathos knew what he had to do. He caught sight of a large gong that lay beside the floor on the rooftop. With a fierce growl, he shoved the gong off the roof. People screamed and moved out of the way when the gong came tumbling down. Rathos let out a resounding howl.
Zid scowled. “What does that crazy dog think he’s doing? He’s ruining everything! Someone stop him!”
Several immortals ran up to the building and climbed it all the way to the top, but Rathos managed to knock down each and every one that approached the roof’s edge. While Rathos made a commotion, his friends sneaked behind the people who had the cups on a cart. Seeing that the gazes of the servants were firmly locked on Rathos, Merdon’s men swapped one of the cups. They wanted to replace more of the cups, but the servants regained their focus on the cart, making it difficult to do another switch.
A lion reached the rooftop that Rathos was on. The lion growled, “Rathos, I don’t know what you are doing, but I will put an end to your foolishness.”
Rathos quaked in fear for the lion was none other than the elder Rendall. With a pounce, the lion butt his head into Rathos’s chest, crushing his ribcage. The immense strength of the lion made Rathos’s face become disfigured in pain and bewilderment. Rathos struggled against Rendall and they brutally wrestled each other on the roof. Rendall forced his way toward the edge, hauling Rathos with him. Interlocked, the two of them rolled off the side and fell from the rooftop. Rathos tried to break away in midair but Rendall remained steadfast, clutching Rathos in his claws. Rathos was slammed into the ground. The road cracked beneath them. Rendall got up and walked away as Rathos lay there, paralyzed. The servants of the elders whisked Rathos’s body away from the ceremony.
One of Merdon’s men walked back up to Merdon and delivered a secret message to his ear. “I’m sorry, Master. Only one cup has been changed.”
Sorren looked directly at Merdon. Merdon raised his index finger as a sign.
“One,” mumbled Sorren. “Either one cup was switched, or one cup remains.”
“Did you say something?” asked Azura, turning to him.
“Just talking to myself,” said Sorren, shaking his head.
“Excuse the intrusion,” Zid told them. “I assure you that nothing like that will ever happen again. Let us continue.” Zid motioned to his servants. “Bring out the cups.”
A servant rolled a cart down to the platform, revealing three cups, one for each person.
“Please,” said Zid, “take and drink of the cup. Think of it as a toast.”
Sorren analyzed the cups, searching for some kind of detectable difference.
Darek walked up to his cup.
“Wait,” interrupted Sorren, holding Darek back by the shoulder.
“Is something wrong?” questioned Zid.
“Nothing really, but I think we should do it one at a time so we can savor the moment. Do we have your permission to do so?”
Zid eyed Sorren suspiciously but replied, “You may do so.”
“Darek, take the cup on the right,” said Sorren with a short wink.
Darek glanced at Azura, wondering what was going on. Azura nodded back at him and gestured with an open hand for Darek to take the cup.
Darek picked up the small porcelain cup with his finger and thumb. It was like a tiny teacup. Darek examined the inside. It appeared to him as ordinary water. He didn’t smell anything weird, and when he took a sip of it, he didn’t taste anything weird either. Seeing that it was fine, Darek downed the whole thing.
Sorren watched the pleased expression on Zid’s face.
“Azura,” said Sorren. “Take the middle cup.”
Azura picked up the cup and drank from it. Nothing happened. She was fine.
Sorren smiled and picked up the leftmost cup in his hand. “Before I drink to this ceremony, I would like to say a few words.” He looked over at Zid for approval. Zid nodded.
Sorren turned to Azura and Darek. “Thank you. I had no idea what awaited me on this planet. These past weeks have been eventful, to say the least. Though it may not have seemed to be the case, I have enjoyed our adventures together.”
Sorren swallowed the water in one gulp. The cup slipped out of his hand and fell to the floor, shattering into tiny fragments. Much to the speechless astonishment of everyone, Sorren clenched his fingers in the center of his chest as though grasping for his heart. Panting and heaving, he suddenly collapsed and began a series of short convulsions and seizures that lasted for seconds. When it ended, he was motionless.
The crowd gasped. Darek’s visage was frozen in despair. What had just happened? He had no idea and a part of him never wanted to consider the possibilities.
CHAPTER 20 Moving on