Ajalon: Blood to Blood, Chap. 1

Chapter One - Walker and Jarek Salathiel

         Walker Salathiel started running as hard as he could towards the stables when he heard the screams. His step-parents were outside of the City right now, and he felt the pulse in Ether even before it had manifested. His brother had done something, and now he would get the blame.
         When he gained view of the stables, he was horrified, half of the building was in rubble, strewn across the ground, and two horses lay broken and dying half buried beneath the broken bricks. “Jarek!”
         “Master Salathiel!” cried one of the Ajalon Trainees. The boy was probably only nine or ten, but he knew Walker, and gestured for him to follow. “He is here, Master Salathiel.”
         Walker fell to his knees at his brother’s side, and searched through the threads in Jarek’s body, trying to find the severed threads, and to repair them, but he couldn’t find anything wrong at all. Oddly, it seemed as if his brother were sleeping.
         The Stables Master was a few feet away, struggling to get up, saying, “He spooked his mare, and she reared back….kicking, and then he fell to the ground, and I felt it…an immense ripple that made the building explode…” The Stables master was bleeding from a cut on his forehead, and looked as if he had a broken leg.
         “Thank you, Master Graylin,” said Walker smiling, then he looked back at the young trainee. “Will you watch Jarek for me? If he wakes up, tell him to say here, and I will be back shortly.” The trainee nodded, and sat down, cross-legged beside Jarek.
         Walker glided towards the Stables Master and touched his shoulder gently, letting the Seven Rivers engulf him, breaking both of their bodies apart, and carrying them to the Healer’s Quarters.
         After signing Master Graylin in with the Healer, Walker closed his eyes and brought his mind up, and into itself, immersing himself in the World of Memories. He wanted to see what had happened for himself.
         His brother stood before him, screaming, as the horse reared up mightily before him. Then Jarek just fell. A strange energy flashed for a moment, and the Stables burst outward. The horse blasted through the wall, and in that moment, the rest of the wall and the roof expanded slowly until half of the building shattered into shards of granite brickas and splinters of wood. He watched as the rubble trapped the second mare, and he cringed when it whinnied in agony.
         Walker brought himself out of the Memory, and paced forward as he manifested in the ruined building. Jarek was sitting up now, and wasn’t the least bit surprised to see his brother walking toward him with a scowl.
         “What happened Jarek? How did you lose control like that?” asked Walker as he knelt in front of his younger brother, placing his hand on Jarek’s shoulder.
         Jarek stared at Walker, shaking his head, with tears forming fast in his eyes. He didn’t say anything, but just shook his head, and cried. Walker didn’t know what to do, so he grabbed Jarek, and held him close, speaking with his mind. Jarek, I don’t know what happened, but I don’t hold you responsible. By what I saw in the Memory, you gainted. The energy was strange. It was yours though, that was clear enough. I will clear the damage and hide if from Mother and Father, but please, make sure it doesn’t happen again. Promise me!
         Jarek took a minute to reply, still slowly shaking his head, I know what happened, but it wasn’t me….it wasn’t me at all….I know that! It wasn’t me!
         Walker listened intently, not knowing if he should reply, or what he should say if he did respond. He was stunned, it seemed to him, as if his brother was talking to himself. Almost as if there were two separate entities, one Walker’s mind could hear, and the other who seemed to hide its voice, so that only Jarek could hear it.
         You believe me, right Walker? said Jarek.

         Three days later, Walker had left Jarek alone about the incident completely, as there had been no recurring happeneings. And so, Jarek Salathiel sat alone in his chambers, with quill in hand and wrote.
         My dreams were of some ancient master, and of a feral beast, one that speaks to the other Races with its mind. My father has told me tales of this creature, for it fought alongside him in the Great Sixty Year War. The Creature’s name is Thorn, the ancient master is Kennon Skyril. I know not why they intrude my nightly encounters, but he is always there, and has never given a hint to his departure.
         Jarek stood after he had finished writing the short entry in his journal, and grabbed his cloak, just before he engulfed himself in the Rivers, to translocate himself to the Great Hall. Only a moment later, and he stood at the doors to the massive conference room. It was here, where his father had been sentenced to exile by the false Steward, Tram Larsen sixty three years ago.
         He looked around the half closed doors, and into the chamber, to see the High Seat in all of its magnificence, his father sitting upon it. His father had not been old by any means, he had silvery blonde hair, and the sapphire-blue eyes that could pierce any soul. He had lived a long life of war and despair, one that had torn the spirit from his essence so utterly that he now lived life in death. This scene was from Jarek’s hopes and dreams, and almost, for a moment he believed it real.
         A second later, the image of Prince John Salathiel vanished, and instead, it was his brother who sat in the High Seat. Strange how similar his father and Walker looked alike.
         “Hello, little brother,” said Walker, “Our step-parents have returned.”
         Jarek looked around for their adoptive parents, and couldn’t find them,” Where are they? Why aren’t’ they here?”
         “They are resting, they had a long journey from the west. They said that if you wish to see them, then do. They missed you, and one more thing, do not tell them about the Stables.  Please, its something we are both trying to get over, okay?”
         Jarek couldn’t believe what his brother was saying. “What do you mean, we both are trying to get over it. You weren’t the one that blew up a building because you fainted. All you want is to keep out of trouble!”
         He glared at his older brother, and then threw his hands into the air above him. A ball of light compacted around him, until he vanished, his power too far away to sense.

         Walker sat in the Great Hall for a moment longer, as he ran over his brother’s emotions in his head. He had read them quite accurately, he had no doubt about that, he had been the top trainee in Empathy. His brother’s emotions seemed almost violent, somehow stressed beyond anything Walker had seen before. Walker had wanted to vomit when he had let himself embrace his brother’s feelings as his own.
         After a few short minutes of pondering, he stood, and transported himself outside of the walls of the Tower Yards. He appeared nearly a half mile from where he had been, on a sturdy branch of an ancient grapefruit tree in the Tower Orchards. This was where he came to get away, the one place no one had ever been able to find him, the one place that he might now name the safest in the land. It was here where he had first come in contact with what he came to know as the Angel Within.
         He however had given one person the location of his childhood hiding spot. Today he was to meet a special person, this man was from the part of the world that was once the Second Realm, called Malad. Kennon Skyril the Lord of the Malador would be here soon.
         
         Jarek Salathiel now hovered at the border of what used to be known as Losden. This area had been completely demolished in the wake of the Sealing of Ether. Flattened the mountains were mere hills and piles of rock, pressed down and spread across what were now plains. The cities that once existed were gone, and the place was a wasteland. All over, beneath him, shadows darted between the boulders, animals of nature, and few dark creatures he was sure.
         Although Ether had been sealed away, it was believed that Dark Ether’s creatures still existed in some areas of the world, like residue. There were groups of Ajalon in almost every part of the world, organized for the sole purpose of finding these remaining shards of evil and to destroy them. Most of these expeditions were successful, however a few had been completely incinerated by the immense power of some of these beings that Tram Larsen had created.
         Jarek knew that here there was still an entry to the Prison of Brethren, where Raisten Anathiel slept, awaiting his reawakening. Also, there were hundreds of powerful and rare artifacts buried in the rubble here, from the School of the Chosen.
         Here, in the sky above what was known as the Mountains of Dolsden, Jarek Salathiel closed his eyes and braced himself for a change. He had been shown this place above all, in dream after dream, for a transformation within himself, and today was that day, he had seen it. In his mind’s eye now, he saw it.
         A massive amount of potential energy swirled, and in partial anger, he wanted to use it to put his brother down, into his place, where Jarek felt like he had been trapped for the last sixteen years. But a greater instinct, one from his central Chakras pulsed from deep within, and he commanded aloud, “Let me be reborn!”
         Around him, the sky vibrated, the force of the shudder sending a shockwave through the earth those two hundred feet below. He arched his back in bliss and grace, feeling his aura intensify, and his veins almost bulge with pure raw energy. In the sky, the two suns collided, causing massive amounts of cosmic radiation to rain down from the sky. As far as his eyes could see, wards of power went up all over the world, held in place by the one hundred and forty four thousand wielders scattered about the world. The suns pushed into each other, their energies buldgin against one another, as the gought against the Laws of Nature to become one. Then with a rush of heat, wind, and solar energy, the two stars were sucked into one another and the sky exploded with light.
         Across the distance, a thousand voices roared at once, 'Long live Lord Jarek Salathiel!'