Read A Myth to the Night Page 41


  Chapter 32: The Revival of the Order of the Crane

  I ran out into the courtyard, followed by the phantoms who had been in the library. I expected to see only Drev but was dumbfounded when I saw about a hundred students gathered together, holding candles. Interspersed among them were other phantoms, many of them holding hands with the students.

  When I had entered Stauros Hall near sunset, I had been sure I did not see a single soul anywhere. But now, only a couple hours later, at least one-tenth of the student population stood before me. Bewildered, as well as confused, I saw Horace stopping by each phantom and student with a box of candles, making sure everyone had one.

  Before I could ask what was going on, Ahura Mazda stepped up beside me and said, “The evacuation trucks and guards left after sundown. Afterward, these students stepped out. ‘We’re standing by you,’ they said. They hope that their presence will stop the planes from bombing.”

  “Even him?” I asked, pointing to Horace.

  “Especially him. After so many years under Parafron’s influence, he’s found his freedom. Now he stands against Parafron and the rest of the Order of the Shrike.” Ahura Mazda beamed at me.

  Leo stepped up to me and spoke. “We heard your call with the olifant, and, naturally, I leaped toward the sound the moment I heard it. But these students were crawling out of sewer holes and other hiding places, looking for us—telling us that they wanted to protect us and wouldn’t leave us.” He paused to sigh. “Absolute class, these kids.”

  “Here, in the courtyard, we gathered all of them,” added Ahura Mazda.

  I stared at the students, who now looked toward the western horizon. I looked in that direction but didn’t see anything. However, I heard the faint buzz of a plane and felt my body grow rigid.

  “Hugh!” I turned, and in the far corner of the courtyard I saw Max, J.P., and Irving. Forgetting that ominous buzzing in the sky, I ran over to them. Siren stood by Max. He had his arm around her.

  “How are you guys still here?” I asked, intending it to be an admonishment. Instead, it came out sounding like a cry of relief. They walked up to me, and I, overwhelmed at their solidarity, shook their hands and patted them on the back.

  “We just sat in the cellar throughout the whole evacuation. No one came to look in that rat hole,” said J.P., his dark sunglasses reflecting the flame of the candle in his hand.

  “We waited until it was quiet and the sun had gone down to come out,” added Irving. “When I checked outside, the trucks had gone and the tide had come in.”

  “We looked for you,” said Max. “We called your name, but that dude there showed up instead.” Max pointed to the headless knight, who was in a deep discussion with a group of students.

  “Yeah, I just gotta say, if I hadn’t seen some of these guys at Toussaint before seeing them tonight,” said J.P., pointing to the phantoms spread out in the courtyard, “I would not have been cool about staying on this island and spending the last night of my life with them.”

  “We don’t know if it’s our last night,” said Irving gravely.

  “With all these students here, they can’t possibly bomb the island,” said Max. “And even if the students weren’t here, how could they even think about bombing this place? I mean, look how cool it is to have phantoms here. That’s why all these other students didn’t leave either. We all want to save the phantoms.”

  Siren leaned into him and kissed him on the cheek. He blushed. As she turned her head, I caught her eye. I remembered how harsh I had been the evening before when I saw her with Max. I gave her a nod, hoping there were no bad feelings between us. I was glad when she smiled at me.

  Max leaned away from her and whispered in my ear, “I know she’s a phantom, but a pretty girl’s a pretty girl, right?”

  “Right,” I replied.

  “They say the jets are coming, but I don’t see anything,” said Irving, staring at the sky. We all looked up.

  “Maybe Parafron freaked out at the last minute—you know, had one of his spaz fits and called the whole thing off,” said J.P.

  I wanted to chuckle at J.P.’s comment, but I could hear the definite roar of a jet coming closer.

  “Look! Lights!” shouted a girl in the crowd. I saw people stretch their necks and squint, and soon a gasp went up from the crowd.

  “Maybe it’s just a drone, coming to survey the island to see if there are people still here,” said Max. “Maybe they saw the candles and thought they should check out the weird lights.”

  “Or maybe they just want to bomb the hell out of this place and get it over with,” snorted J.P.

  “Look! There’s not one. There’s three!” shouted another student.

  Sure enough, three distinct sets of ominous red lights blinked in the dark sky. Cries went up all around as students and phantoms huddled closer together. Some students had their hands over their heads and stared at the ground, while others continued to look at the approaching planes.

  “Hey, look, there’s Drev!” shouted Irving, pointing to the roof of Stauros Hall. Drev had climbed up to the ridge where I had often sat to escape. He steadied himself on the roof, looking in the direction the planes were coming from.

  “What the hell? He’s alive?” asked J.P., taking off his sunglasses.

  “What’s he doing up there?” asked Max.

  All the faces in the courtyard now turned to Drev as he stood on the roof, raising his arms and waving them. What was he doing?

  “Dragon! Dragon!” he shouted.

  Dragon? I sucked in a cold blast of air, as I stood there with my mouth agape. He could be referring only to the phantoms in the sea. I had a hard enough time getting the phantoms on the island to come to my distress call. Did he believe that the phantoms in the sea would help him? Had they promised such a favor?

  The planes were in clear view, and we could see that they were flying in a V formation. It would be only a minute before they were close enough to drop their bombs on the island.

  “Dragon! Dragon!” Drev continued to shout.

  “Is he a phantom?” asked Irving, turning to me.

  I shook my head.

  “He’s lost it. Why is he shouting?” asked J.P.

  I hesitated before saying, “I think he knows what he’s doing—well, at least let’s hope he knows what he’s doing.”

  A gust of wind and a blast of orange-red fire lit the sky as a brown dragon, twice the size of a jet, emerged from somewhere below the island. It paused directly over Drev. A loud collective gasp rose from the crowd in the courtyard. Seconds later, a green dragon joined him. The flapping of their wings overtook the sound of the oncoming firebombers.

  The pilots, seeing the two dragons obstructing their way, tried to deviate from their current path. But they weren’t fast enough. The dragons attacked the two planes on either side with an unrelenting stream of fire. Two violent explosions lit the skies like fireballs. A cheer went up from the courtyard, and everyone turned to hug each other.

  “I always thought this was what the end of the world would look like,” said Max. “I just didn’t think I’d be seeing it with my own eyes.” He drew Siren closer to him. She snuggled her head into his shoulder.

  The third plane that had been in the center of the V formation had bypassed the two dragons and sped by the island. But instead of retreating, it continued to stay on task. As the plane circled back toward the island, the brown dragon charged it. But when the dragon blew its fire, the skilled pilot dodged the attack, heading, unobstructed, toward the island.

  “It’s coming back!” shouted one of the students, pointing to the lone jet in the sky. Gasps and screams went through the crowd, as the nose of the plane seemed directed right at the courtyard. Then a shadow rose up from the side of the island, opposite from where the plane was coming. Moments later, the green dragon was overhead. The magnificent creature met the plane head-on with a breath of fire, but not before the pilot released a bomb.

  We watched the shell fall
. Its speed seemed slow, as though it were being lowered on invisible strings. The metallic object passed just beyond the old abbey and into the sea. It exploded, sending a monstrous wave that hovered over the island for a few seconds before collapsing behind Stauros Hall. The ground shook as though the island were a volcano about to explode.

  Once the tremor was over and the crowd saw they were still intact, they cried and laughed. Many around me continued to clap, as though they wanted an encore. Caught up in the excitement around me, I had forgotten about Drev. I looked up to the roof where he had been and was flummoxed to find that he was no longer there. The dragons had retreated, and the crowd was calming down, but where was he?

  “Fellow students!” I heard his voice and turned. There he was, on the steps that led to the entrance of Stauros Hall, facing the crowd.

  “Last night you saw me jump off the tower and thought I had died. I did not. The girl, though . . .”

  He paused. There was absolute silence in the crowd; only the lone sound of a hawk calling somewhere in the distance echoed around us.

  “She’s gone,” continued Drev, his voice morose. “If you’re not already aware of it from what you saw last night and what you witnessed just now, we’re in a battle—a battle to survive. There are people out there doing their best to keep everyone in the world under their thumb and in their control. You know who I’m talking about.”

  There was deafening silence all around.

  “The Order of the Shrike.”

  A murmur went up from the crowd, as though the students were hearing blasphemy. I, too, felt uneasy to hear a single young man speak in public against the Order of the Shrike. But after a minute, my mind became more accustomed to the idea that people could protest the Order of the Shrike in front of a crowd. Why not? Especially if none of the members of the order was there. And especially if the order tried to firebomb an island on which people were still living.

  Another minute passed. Drev continued to stand on the Stauros steps. He looked on at the crowd. Everyone continued to talk in hushed voices, and Drev waited for them to quiet down. They did eventually.

  Drev cleared his throat. I listened more intently, for, although I had expected him to work on behalf of humanity fighting the Shadow of Fear, I had not expected him to take on the Order of the Shrike. Nevertheless, he had a gathering of sympathizers. This was his chance.

  “We are at the dawn of a revolution! As I told you before, the Order of the Shrike has manipulated and enslaved the world, and they’re doing it by using fear as a weapon. They have told us to be afraid—afraid of everything that is different, mysterious, and a part of nature. But there is nothing to be afraid of, not even death. Tonight, right here, with the burning of those jets that came to firebomb us, we are sending a message: down with the Order of the Shrike!”

  The students in the crowd had their mouths slightly open and their eyes fixed on Drev. The phantoms, too, seemed entranced with what he was saying. Ravana, with his ten hands, began clapping, and soon the rest of them followed.

  “It won’t be easy,” continued Drev. “For there’s a huge problem standing in our way, called the Shadow of Fear. It’s a result of all the fearmongering tactics that the Order of the Shrike has used. It attacks you as an unseen force and takes control over you until you rip yourself apart. No one knows when or whom it will attack. I know only that when your fears become insurmountable, it approaches you, ready for the kill. Many people have died from it, and the worst part is that they don’t have relief once they’re dead. Their souls can’t rest, because they died by being tormented by their fears.

  “You won’t hear about the Shadow of Fear on the news or in the media. Even though the Order of the Shrike knows about it, they’re just letting it kill people. You all witnessed its effects last night, when a student here nearly beat himself to death.”

  “Tyler. He’s talking about Tyler,” uttered a voice from the crowd. Other voices followed in agreement. Drev paused to listen to their distraught mutterings.

  “Right. I am talking about Tyler. When Tyler was getting his life knocked out of him, the Order of the Shrike not only let it happen but lied about what happened and passed off the attack from the Shadow of Fear as the work of a demon. That could be any one of us in the future if we don’t take a stand now against the Shadow of Fear.

  “Most important, we all have to understand that the Shadow of Fear is a killer, and that it arises from the fears within us. Because it comes from within us, we can control it. We just have to be aware of it—really aware of it.

  “I’ve overcome my Shadow of Fear. It’s the reason I’m standing here before you tonight. I’ll help all of you to fight it off as well. It’s only when each one of us takes on the task of fighting against our own fears that we can eliminate this thing.”

  He paused. By this time, I had moved from where I had been standing with J.P., Max, and Irving in the middle of the crowd to the front. My heart was ready to leap with joy. Not in my most fantastical dreams had I imagined that the Slayer would not only fight the Shadow of Fear but also encourage others to join him in the crusade.

  Drev saw me approach. He looked at me, took in a deep breath, and then faced the crowd once again.

  “Long ago, there used to be another order—a more powerful order—that served the people, instead of using them. It was called the Order of the Crane. The Order of the Crane taught people how to confront, overcome, and even embrace their fears by understanding those fears through myths, folktales, and legends. These stories were about people who had confronted the same fears long ago. Thousands of these stories were collected and spread throughout the world. These stories were the tools people used to guide themselves through the worst times in their lives. Knowing these stories empowered the people to keep their fears under control.

  “Among you now are characters from those stories.” Drev paused as students looked around at the smiling phantoms, who stood straighter and cleared their throats. “When the Order of the Shrike destroyed the books that contained your stories, you guys continued to exist as phantoms so you could keep the morals your stories had to teach us alive. We, the ones who are living now, need you, because we need to know what you know. You’re the only allies we have in this struggle against the Order of the Shrike.

  “Remember, not only do we need to know these stories, we have to spread them. When the Order of the Shrike took power, these stories were no longer taught, and, over time, they were replaced with brainwashing garbage that the Order of the Shrike made people believe was important. And because of that, when people become afraid, they don’t know what to do. And since they don’t know, their fears have grown bigger and darker.

  “If we are to stop the Order of the Shrike from controlling this world through fear, we must bring back the old principles of the Order of the Crane. We have to enable ourselves and others to fight off the Shadow of Fear by reviving the tales people have told one another for thousands of years. We can bring down the most tyrannical organization ever to rule this world—we proved it tonight. We can do it again, until they are no longer in power, and the Order of the Crane can resume its rightful place as the protector of the people. To the Order of the Crane!”

  “To the Order of the Crane!” everyone shouted, with thundering applause.

  A cheer went up from the crowd as Max, J.P., and Irving rushed toward the steps of Stauros Hall to welcome back their friend. I was about to join them but stopped when a bird caught my eye.

  The creature stood out in the dark night. It was a crane—white, with slender legs and a long beak. Elegant, delicate, and calm, it stood away from the crowd, seeming to wait for someone on the steps of the courtyard that led to the beginning of the Five Ring Road.

  Drawn to the bird, I moved away from the others and made my way over to the steps where it stood. As I approached, the bird hopped down onto the cobblestone road. After taking a few steps, it hopped off the path and onto the grassy terrain that led into the barrier
of oak trees that separated the Forgotten Cemetery and the Five Ring Road. There, hidden among the shadows of the oak trees, was a monk with a rusted iron lantern—similar to those I had carried when I was alive.

  The outline of his figure was familiar, and I approached him with my heart beating loudly. His hood covered his head, but as I got closer, I saw the profile of the nose and mouth of my old teacher Abbot Pellanor.

  “Well done,” he nodded. He raised his lantern high above his head, and it lit the area behind the trees, casting its glow toward the Forgotten Cemetery. There I saw my fellow brothers, all of whom had traversed into the afterlife hundreds of years before me, standing in a row, waiting for me to join them. They lined up all the way to the crumbling frame of what had once been the entrance to the cloister that had housed the Forgotten Cemetery.

  “It’s all done, isn’t it?” I asked the abbot.

  “And you were the only one who could do it,” he replied. He turned and began walking toward the Forgotten Cemetery.

  I was eager to take my next steps into that new world, but part of me wanted time to say farewell to those I was leaving behind. I looked back up at the courtyard and saw that Max, J.P., and Irving were standing with Drev on the steps of the old abbey. Ahura Mazda, Ravana, and the rest of them had gathered around. They were in discussion, most likely planning the long, treacherous road that lay before them. They were taking the right path, but it was the hardest path. How could a small band of young men and phantoms take on the Order of the Shrike?

  I murmured a blessing for them. As I was about to turn away, I caught Drev’s eye. He was watching me. I raised my hand and gave a short wave. He returned a knowing nod.

  “It’s his journey now,” I whispered to myself. “Wherever I end up, I’ll be watching out for him.”

  I turned from the crowd in the courtyard and entered the Forgotten Cemetery. I greeted each of my brothers, who welcomed me like a hero. They fell in line behind me as we walked through the crumbling stone door frame, the only distinguishable indication of the covered walkway that had once encased the cemetery. I remembered having longed to walk through it, as my brothers had centuries ago. Now that the time had come for me to enter, I didn’t walk toward it. I ran.

  Thank you for reading. I’m currently writing the next book in the series. For updates please visit: https://www.staurosisland.com.

 
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