Excerpt of Prophecy of the Boar: To be a part of a series called the Cyrenius Core.
It was home and all that mattered. A house filled with five generations of memories and love. Each family brought their own touch, their own special sense of comfort and warmth. Hers wasn’t any different. The tension of the day and the rigors of training melted the minute she saw the three-story building. The pressure of being the best and trying to prove herself as a woman working for the Elusion government fled when the promise of relaxation came into sight. She knew even before she stepped out the front door because the smells of her mother’s cooking assailed the senses and teased every nerve in her stomach.
With a hearty meal in her stomach, and screams of laughter and glee echoing in her ears, she dismissed any woes that could possibly linger in the mind. Banished into the air were thoughts of maneuvers and tactics she had to memorize. Banished were the rigors she had to endure so she could apply for the elite squad, Shadow Breakers. Her family would be excited at the prospect. Her father, a Shadow Breaker himself, told the millions of stories of his years in the military service instead of the traditional bedtime stories. She could clearly see him tinker around this house as his gruff and stern voice reminded her younger brother, Henry, and sister, Isabella, they had once again left a mess in the living room.
Stepping out of the transport that brought her home, an eerie wave burst through her system. Home was the one place she never had to worry about a barrier or shields. Home was the one place she never had to worry about disturbances into her thoughts or someone trying to probe her mind for answers. She didn’t understand these strange forebodings starting in her stomach. A creepy shiver climbed her spine as the state of silence and order touched her ears. She had never known her family not to be boisterous or energetic.
House doors were more often than not opening and closing, her mother slapping her father’s hand out of the food a customary thing. The habitual greeting when she would arrive did not occur. Her ears fell upon a strange silence as she opened the door to an empty house whose normal state was lively. Closing the door with care, the emptiness of the laughter that usually came from Henry and Isabella greeted her and filled the void. Toys, on average strewn all over the living room, were cleaned and arranged in a matter not customary to her mother’s preference.
Ailsa walked down the halls peering into each bedroom with caution. Henry and Isabella may have left with her father out on an errand, but where was her mother? Her father was known to take the twins to the grocery store or any other errand so they wouldn’t be cooped up inside the house. If they were not arguing with each other, they were more often than not running through the house with clever plans of mischief and destruction to whatever lay in their path. These well crafted plans she knew she was the mentor for because she had made sure to teach her siblings the value of plan and action. Still, the unnatural sense of wrongness settled in her stomach increased with restlessness.
The search throughout her home echoed distant noises off the vacant and bare quarters. A sound abnormal to the norm caught her attention. Did that sound like a whimper? It was a strained and unintelligible noise that could be a multitude of things. She couldn’t pinpoint the location and headed into the kitchen, pondering the thought that her mother could be in the lower part of the house in the dark garden. The stench of burnt food that had boiled over tinged the air as she spotted pots and pans crusted with food turned black. She moved the pots to a safer area, and the foreboding sensation traveled from her stomach to spread through her body. Cold sweat covered her brow as she contemplated the possibility that an emergency caused everyone to leave in such haste. Where were they? Where was her family?
Before she called the local Search and Assist, the noise she heard earlier broadcasted clearer than before. It wasn’t a muffled whimper or an animal against the door. The noise was genuine, screams from people in the backyard. She crouched down low on the ground, and crawled with great care to where the concentration of noise generated. She didn’t want to draw attention, but knew it was a dangerous situation and held her body rigid on the floor.
She snaked with trained ease on the ground, moving towards the window in the living room. The voices were clear; the voices of her mother and father. Other sounds noted other people, different people outside of her range to decipher. She inched closer and tried to make sense of the situation. She knew if she made any type of sound, location would be easy. Her senses alerted, she lifted her body and peered outside the window. Her heartbeat accelerated, nerves trembled and her first instinct to run flooded every nerve in her mind.
Her parents and siblings huddled close together, held hostage at the hands of three men. On their knees, the whimpers from her siblings ripped at her sanity. They were babies; they were children who deserved better treatment. They deserved to not be a part of this type of horror. Her mother, serene and calm, held her composure as she whispered into Henry and Isabella’s ears. Military men, who wore colors she hadn’t seen before in her short time at the academy, flanked all four corners of her family. Some men dug through the underground bunker located in the backyard that her father kept locked.
Weapons pointed and armed, some talked into a headset, and others planned around a map as three distinctive men gathered close to her father. Her family surrounded by soldiers, weapons pointed at them. Some of the men walked around and talked jabbering into headsets, planning, and looking at a special type of map. Words were exchanged between the men and then the questions were turned on her father. She wasn’t able to comprehend the conversation, but more words were exchanged and a punch thrown by the middle of the two men. Fury and revulsion replaced the fear in her body and mind. Wiping the tears from her eyes, she had looked around for any open areas to use as an escape route.
"Are there any other children?"
The question came from the man that stood in the middle of the three men. Dressed in complete black, the cloak he wore close to his body disguised any marks or insignia’s for possible identification. His face was covered by an intricate design that caught her attention. She had no idea masks had been designed in such a more beautiful design. It was a holographic mask in nature and reflected the light in several areas. It wasn’t a mask intended to reveal any part of his face, yet from the angle she had it revealed the color of the bearer’s eyes. The mask disguised facial features, and distorted the voice. Committing to memory the color, she looked for any other hint of identification.
"No, there aren’t any more children, just the ones I have here." Her father at last said.
Her father’s word placed her fate in a sealed envelope and forced acceptance of the situation. The coiled nerves in her stomach flared and she fought and pushed the bile lodged in her throat. She wanted to scream and yell.
‘Papa, tell them where I am.’ She pleaded mentally with her father.
‘Ally, you will stay where you are and not make a sound.’
‘Papa, please, I can’t bear this!’
‘No Ally, listen to me and stay there.’
A man, who had taught her valuable principles all her life, taught her yet another lesson at that moment; sacrifice. The masked man whose identity concealed the truth wanted something from her father. He was what she knew was a true enemy.
"He’s lying. I know they hey have one more child, and she is almost full-grown. Look throughout the house and find her." Another voice interjected.
"You know why we are here Captain."
This statement was from another man. Though he wasn’t masked or hidden behind concealment, he was special. By height alone he overpowered the other men as a sign of authority. Rugged and well-muscled, his calculated look instructed one as to the clarity of his agenda. Her family was his agenda, this much she understood. Disdained repugnance etched the features of his face and hatred burned in his eyes as he looked at her siblings. For someone she did not know, he held such rage towards those she loved.
‘Why does that man hate us Papa?’ She stared at the tall man.
‘Quiet Ally or they’ll know you’re here.’ Her father commanded.
She returned to observe the tall man. He did not wear a military uniform as the other soldiers did. His attire resembled that of a bounty hunter, his tight-fitting suit allowed mobility and flexibility with well-armed weapons aligned along his right and left legs. He stood at ease in a black skin suit cut off at the arms, his strength evident against a muscular and powerfully built body. No badges or symbols of allegiance on any part of his suit indicated loyalty to a specific race. A holographic emblem constantly changing on his chest and the tattooed arm were the only two distinctions he presented. His right arm displayed a Phoenix encased in fire. It was active as it changed through stages, the bird never stayed in one place. The Phoenix was familiar, though it eluded her.
‘Papa, I know that man with the tattoo.’
‘Things are not what they seem Ally.’ Her father replied.
She watched from her crouched position as the Phoenix-tattooed man stepped forward and said something to her father. Her mother shielded her siblings’ eyes and whispered into their ears. No one noticed what occurred after that moment, but she noticed her siblings’ slump in their mother’s arms. What happened to Henry and Isabella?
‘What’s wrong with Henry and Isabella?’
‘Ailsa, remember what I’m going to tell you from this point on.’
‘Papa, I don’t understand.’
‘Find your Uncle Nick, and tell him this exactly. ‘Monchero bensu anayi’’
‘What does that mean?’
‘Just tell your Uncle that Ally.’
‘I’ll contact him.’
‘NO!’ Her father stated with firmness. ‘They will pick up your reading. Do not use so much of your power.’
Time slipped faster after her mother’s conversation with Henry and Isabella. The knot tightened in her stomach and her senses flared again. She needed a way to help her family. They were trapped on all corners and it would take a huge distraction for them to slip through and run. Dead-ends met her ideas as she tried to think of a possible way. She needed to find an answer fast before the soldiers found out she was inside the house.
She waited for a sign, for a number of ideas to come to mind, but as she tried to find ulterior methods, the tattooed man turned in her direction. Those eyes, she knew those eyes.
‘Things are not what they seem Ally.’
‘Papa…it can’t be.’
She had stared into those eyes once with love-sick infatuation. Dancing nerves with butterfly flutters undid her calm each time the crystal blue gaze turned in her direction at the academy. She knew those hypnotizing eyes that changed shades depending on the intensity of his emotion. She had spent two years with this man. Two years having chats and getting to know each other whenever one passed the other. This man had become her close friend; she thought they shared a special kinship and bond. Each day he taught her to understand the various lessons bombarding her mind. He helped her control her gifts and use them for the required demands of her government. A man she would give body and soul to if she had a chance. Duncan Walsh. Duncan Rylos Walsh.
‘No Papa, no, it can’t be. It’s Duncan, Papa. Why? Why would Duncan do this?’ She fought a strong sense of denial.
Duncan was three years older but she did not care about that trivial point. She felt the pull around him in her body and soul. He was a Lieutenant in the military and helped the new trainees at the academy. His assignment was special for he was a part of Cyrenius Core in the Infinitium. The Infinitium was a delegated multi-galaxy coalition working with races and governments through interstellar communication and cooperation. Throughout her world, Elusion, the Druid ancient world Eirenah, and Duncan’s planet Atriopius Cyrenius Core had the top of Reconnaissance groups. Throughout the galaxies, the Cyrenius Core was the best of the best.
Night after night of struggling to absorb all the material, she remembered the small breaks she was able to take to watch his training classes in hand to hand combat. He had precision and skill, only acquired by careful study. He knew how to subdue an opponent faster than she had ever seen. Those who knew of Cyrenius Core understood each man was a trained lethal weapon. His cunning skill and intelligence to decipher and understand strategic combat in novel ways was legendary.
Those nights she spent crouched out of sight while she watched how he subdued his opponents, taught the stances, mental direction and focus to his class. The passes were smooth, fluid, on point and lightning quick. Over various lessons he would teach his students how to overcome multiple attacks. Each would gain knowledge of how to easily deflect a strike and deliver the recoil with greater power. Still observant in the shadows she never noticed when he passed, sat down and spoke to her about the techniques as if she too attended. His eyes stated a different tale as a smoldering caress she couldn’t pinpoint did a deliberate number on her heart and on her nerves. Class after class, they talked about curriculum, viewpoints, background.
She was tied to him in an inexplicable way. When she heard his voice in the overhead projection instructing the trainees how to fight, or heard the way the deep baritone in his voice pronounced her name her nerves went wild in response. It progressed from chatting to spending time with Duncan while he showed her the stances. Though she had yet taken the defense class needed for her training and government, Duncan insisted on showing her proper form. The way he touched her with gentle caresses meant to show how to move her body. In truth she didn’t need to learn them, but it never failed to stir her blood those small moments. No one could convince her Duncan meant nothing. When they talked Ailsa felt a strange type of warmth in her body.
The ache had begun in her breasts as they tightened to sharp points, the heat traveling down her skin and tightening the muscles of her stomach. Each moment with him heightened the sensations as even a gentle breeze caused enough heat to pool in the junction of her thighs to drive all logic out of her mind. An ache she knew nothing of beckoned to call him closer. The insignia of her race, located on her wrist, burned with the surge of her emotions. She could not understand why she felt such things around Duncan, she had no viable explanation.
Ages were different between Elusions, Centurions, and humans. Centurions and Elusions aged the same way, and delayed after a point. Ailsa at 18 Elusion years, known as Benas, was the same physically and mentally as a mid 20 year old-something on Earth. She was a descendant of a rare race as denoted by the insignia on her inner wrist. While Duncan, on the other hand at 21 Centurion years, known as Cantus, was close to his early 30’s in human years. As a Centurion they were identified through the Phoenix. Though the sacred name was only known to those who were of the race, the Phoenix was a symbol of great significance throughout their whole lifetime.
Glass shattered, snapping Ailsa from her thoughts, back to the horror and reality she had escaped.
"We trusted him Papa, we trusted Duncan. How could he do this?"
‘Ally, remember what I said. Things are not what they seem. Remember that always baby.’
‘No Papa, he betrayed us!’
‘Hush Ally, you’re giving off too much power.’
She ducked down further just in case a search started.
The Duncan look alike stared her father down. "Captain this is the last time I will ask you, where is your other child?"
Her father never answered. She couldn’t bear the torture of having to hide while her family remained as hostages in front of these armed men. Her father knew she was close but yet he acted as if the men had lost their minds each time they asked about her. He kept their questions unanswered about her whereabouts as he pulled her mother and siblings closer. She had no idea what was wrong with Henry and Isabella, they didn’t respond to any noise. They only lay slumped in their mother’s arms as if…as if…they had died. She had no ideas, no way to stop any whim the military men came up with to inflict pain on her family. She hid and fought the rage as the man she held far too deep in her heart betrayed her trust. Why didn’t they fight damnit!!! FIGHT!! She had to find a way out for them. She had to figure out a way to save them. Why did they not fight? Why did they not see the only option left was death?
‘Close your eyes Ally. Close your eyes now baby.’
Stopping in the middle of her thoughts, calm poured through her body. Soft warmth embraced her heart and her mind. An intense peace she had never experienced before flooded every pore of her being. How strange to feel such a soothing and comforting emotion in the midst of danger and peril.
‘Papa, what’s happening?’
‘Close your eyes now baby.’
She didn’t second-guess or question the words her father said. The soothing feeling increased as she closed her eyes. Pain of solitude, horror, and a mixture of guilt and sadness swamped her heart at the same time as the reassuring blanket in her mind doubled its effect. Crimson tears fell down her cheeks as did with any Boar in profound ache. Confusion reigned as her family’s marking changed, reddening to a concentrated scarlet.
‘We love you Ally.’ She opened her eyes too late; multitude shots of light pierced the sky.