Chapter 7
Treyson awoke to a headache above his eyes and an extreme thirst. He reached slowly to touch his head, feeling the stinging pain from the cut on his hand. He moaned. "I hate beer," the words stumbling out of his dry mouth. His thoughts went to Sara as he forced himself to sit up, remembering his morning call to her especially today she is supposed to meet with the doctor. He grabbed his cell phone glancing at the time "1:30", uh oh, he thought, she will already be at the hospital. He checked his messages and found one miss call and two texts all from his wife. The call was made at seven thirty and the texts at eight twenty and eight thirty five. The first text read: "the plague has reached eastern American cities, I'm worried, wish you were here." The second text read: "Newscast says for people to stay inside and that they are working on an inoculation. Want to help neighbors. Not feeling well. I Love You!" He immediately called her cell, no answer. He dialed the home phone, busy, good, maybe she's trying to call me, he thought. He decided to take a shower and wash away last night while waiting on Sara to call him. It seemed too quiet causing him to pause when he walked across the hallway it occurred to him that Big John must have over slept also. He washed the blood off his hand in the sink, it had either healed some or it wasn't as bad as he originally thought. The water washed away the grime of yesterday but the memory of the black haired woman remained and her words seemed even clearer now: The earth going through a renewal echoing in his head.
He slipped the sword through his belt, avoiding the handle, as he left the room. He headed towards the pub where he hoped to find Big John and a cup of coffee. He was surprised to find the lights off with no aroma of fresh brewed coffee. The coffee maker was already prepared all he had to do was hit the button and it started brewing right away. He would try again to reach Sara while he waited, but still no answer on the cell. His home phone still rang busy. He was getting desperate and a little scared so he tried calling Ms. Thompson at the office, but again no answer, not even her secretary. He would give it a little more time while he poured some coffee and sat at the table in front of the television to get an update on the plague.
A newscast from Las Angeles was on when the wide screen lit up, he adjusted the volume so he could hear it. A news anchor was somber as he sat before the camera telling of the plague that has devastated the world. He said for some reason he didn't know why he was allowed to live, immune to the virus that swept the earth in such a brief time. He said the plague was indiscriminate of age, nationality, sex or the amount of money you had. Some figures that were given in the night were approximate, stating that less than one percent has survived. He said this would be his only broadcast and that he would have it repeat until the station loses power. The newsman stood looking at the camera, his suit disheveled maybe slept in, his shoulders hunched and tears were beginning to stream down his face, "We must go on. We must not forget who we are. Technology still exists. I am going to search for others to help rebuild," he stated then turned and walked away.
Treyson fell to his knees, the sword in his belt binding against his side. Anger raged inside as he ripped the sword from his belt tossing it against the wall as he screamed, "it's your fault. I wish I hadn't come looking for you." He cupped his face in his hands thinking of his wife and unborn son who were surely dead now. Tears coming freely as he sobbed wishing he had never came here. "I will not help you'" his mind picturing the black haired woman Elaina. "I didn't know it would cost me everything," he shouted while looking intently at the sword. He stood shakily still glaring at the sword speaking, "I don't need you, stay here in Scotland where you belong." He turned towards the exit just as Big John came through, his normally ponytailed long hair now loose and straggly, with rifle in hand pointing it at Treyson. "You brought the curse of death to Scotland, you and that witch on the lake."
Treyson took a step towards Big John with hands up in front, "wait a minute friend I came looking for my grandfather’s hidden sword I knew nothing of what the lady or mermaid of the lake was talking about."
Big John pulled the trigger, the rifle made a loud pop as a bullet went through the soft flesh of Treyson's upper arm and hitting the wall behind him splattering blood with it. "Don't move! I am going to kill you but first I want to know why the plague had to take my sweet Sal from me. She was all I had. She was my life," he said as a few tears dribbled down his cheeks.
"Wait a minute Big John it's not my fault," Treyson spoke quickly, but Big John wasn't listening, but kept speaking.
"You not only killed my misses, but my friends are gone too. Why the whole town has been wiped out nobody left but the two of us, and soon there will just be one of us," he said as he pulled the trigger aiming at Treyson’s chest. This time the gun went click with a small bang and smoke with the bullet lodging in the barrel. The pain in his arm was excruciating but Treyson dove back onto the floor grabbing the sword and flipping the lock with his thumb and removing the blade in one motion. Big John was on top of him bringing the rifle down on him like a hammer as Treyson brought the sword up hoping to block the attack. “Ping” the sound of the rifle barrel being severed through and hitting against the wall Big John’s eyes grew wide. "Strike" the sword whispered to Treyson, "he's the enemy", but he couldn't do it, he still considered Big John a friend. Big John walked over, poured himself ale and sat at the bar while Treyson picked up his scabbard and sheathed the sword then stuffed it back into his belt.
"I'm leaving, Big John I need to find a way home. I'm sorry for everything that has happened and I want to assure you it wasn't my fault. I'm still trying to figure it out for myself," Treyson walked through the pub exit. He stopped then looked back at Big John, "would you like to come with me?"
Big John glared at him, the hate still in his eyes, his voice full of anger, and “no, I would kill you at the first opportunity. You will always be my enemy."
Treyson wasn't sure what had changed in his friend, but he didn't want to fight him anymore, he would just leave. Packing took but minutes and before long he was driving back on the road. He just had one thing left to do before finding his way back to America; revisiting Elaina. He needed some answers. There were some things that she had kept back, he was sure of it. He felt manipulated though he thought he was moving at his own free will. He needed answers that hopefully she could provide.
The car sputtered when he turned onto the lake's narrow drive, stalling. He checked the gas gauge "half a tank", he hit the key and it fired back up. He parked beside the old broken-down castle close to where he met Elaina the first time. He walked towards the crystal clear lake where the rubble from one of the fallen towers had landed in the water creating a favorite fishing spot for most anglers. When he got to the exact spot where she talked with him before he drew the sword and called for her loudly, "Elaina." He repeated it a few more times getting louder and more frustrated each time when she didn't appear. He held the sword and spoke to it, "tell Elaina that I need to speak to her it is urgent."
The sword spoke as before, "I will try but she will not come. Her imprisonment all these years has caused her great sorrow; she only speaks when she must." Treyson heard the sword call but to no avail, this woman is stubborn, he thought. He yelled again, this time holding the sword high and back as if he was going to throw it, "Elaina if you do not come and speak to me, I will toss the sword in the lake and technology will prevail. Magic will again be lost for a very long time." That's all it took as she came walking out of the water wearing the same shear blue dress and her hair flowing in an imaginable breeze. This time her face featured a scowl instead of a smile and her voice was agitated, "how dare you threaten me, Treyson MacAlistair, warrior for magic. None before you have quit this early and given up so soon."
"I haven't given up, I just think you have chosen the wrong man," he spoke with a serious tone then added, "I am no warrior, I don't think I could kill, especially now since most of the living are now dead?"
"In order for the earth to experience renewal the population
had to decrease greatly and being a warrior does not make you a killing machine. You have a cause and that is to bring back magic that's what you fight for."
"I should have been home with my wife, she would have needed me, and she would have been so scared. Tell me, is she still alive," His voice softened by the need to know?
"I cannot tell you that Treyson, I don't have that ability and you don't have the time to search for her anyway. You must find the Scepter of Gao and its bearer within three months. That will be difficult enough and the odds are against you. Technology will be your enemy and it will employ science to stop you. Beware; you will encounter some things that you won't believe is possible. Remember this is your family's natural right, embrace it and magic will aid you. Without it you will fail as many MacAlistair have before you."
"What you ask of me is hard in that I must accept the loss of my wife, whom I love dearly, to allow the rebuilding of a planet with the aid of magic. Why? Just by the loss of life, the earth would reclaim and regenerate. It will be many years before man could harnesses the power to again extract and use the Earth's resources. Let me alone that I may seek out and mourn the loss of my wife and unborn child."
"There is an ancient world called Kivanha, where all the races of magic dwell. When the earth goes through its renewal and magic succeeds, portals are re-established and some of those races gradually return to help restore the Earth to its original state. Without the help of Druids the great forest can never be completely rebuilt and extinct animals can never be brought back. The oil deposits and the coal fields can never be replenished unless those of the Dwarfish and Elven race are not allowed to return. Even the powerful dragon magic is needed to rid the world of the perdurable things that men during years of technology have created. There are a few on the Earth who are and will be born with magic, but without you restoring it to its rightful place in science, they will never be able to employ its uses. You see Treyson; you must fulfill your destiny and find the Scepter of Gao and its bearer, uniting it with the Sword of MacAlistair."
“That’s a lot to ask of one man. To carry this great burden on his shoulders, especially when he has lost all,” he answered sadly.
“You are not alone, Treyson. Help from Kivanha will be given you as needed and if possible, though its costs are great. Fate will bring you help from those of the Earth, refuse it not, nor be angry when they give their life for the cause.”
Treyson sheathed the sword, turning his eyes from her, "I was hoping to come here and tell you I can't do it, that I don't have the ability. That there must be another MacAlistair to wield the sword, but I see this is bigger than me. I will try, but first I must find out what happen to my wife." He turned and walked away without looking back. He heard her call but he didn't care, he kept walking. When he slid behind the wheel of the car he looked towards the lake and saw she was gone. He took out his phone to try calling again but there was no service, damn he thought. He looked through his saved pictures of his wife slowly; he missed her so much as tears easily flowed. He turned the key, the car sputtered and backfired. He tried again as it turned over but would not fire. Assuming bad gas since it sputtered earlier and not being much of a mechanic he decided to walk back towards the hotel hopefully finding another vehicle. It began to sink in as he realized cars would be in abundance, as well as clothes and he could choose what he wanted when he got back to Inverness. He left the keys in the ignition and his packed clothes in the back seat, what did it matter anyway, he thought. The only thing he took was his cellphone charger so he would always be able to at least look at her pictures. With sword strapped to his side Treyson set off on the long walk back to the hotel wishing he would of ate something before he left, his stomach began to growl.