Chapter 20:
Unified
The women’s swords clank against one another, their sheer weapons bouncing sun light. Natika’s majestic
wings spread, each delicate feather spread to its fullest, her elbow forward,
holding her sword. Natika’s head tilts forward toward Margret. “Your next
move…”
Margret finds footing and charges toward Natika, her wings
whoosh above the wind, backing her
slightly away, sword slamming against Margret’s. “More Advantageous, Margret.”
Margret grits her teeth and pushes harder against the wing
creature, her wings giving a powerful flap, tumbling Margret to the ground.
Natika’s feet tap against the soil as she slowly walks
toward Margret, sword guarding her breast.
“Don’t knuckle under now.”
Margret backs away slowly, sword guarding her torso. She
pauses, a short breath and then lets out a low bellow as she stampedes toward
the winged woman. Their swords meet, jostling against one another, biceps
pressing against their skin as they continue to shove against one another,
swords trying to slip against the force.
Margret grunts a final “Ugh,” toppling Natika, dusting her
white wings against the colorful dirt. Margret gazes down at her opponent and
with one last thrust, knocking Natika’s sword to her side. “Check mate” she
smirks pulling herself to her feet and lending a hand to help Natika up.
“Well done.” She smiles pulling herself from the ground. “Should
I fear that an Earthling has so much power behind her thrust?”
“You should fear all Earthlings, Natika.” Margret solemnly
warns, “We have an anger in our soul
that you, of the Cepae planet, do not know how to harbor.”
“Maybe so; but we
have an unconditional love we will die to protect. One with no fear of their
life is much more dangerous than anyone who is in anger.” She addresses. “One
who harbors anger becomes careless.”
Margret pauses, “Have you ever fought in a battle of any
sort, Natika?”
Natika’s eyes shift awkwardly, “I have not. Does not mean I
am not ready for a battle to present itself.”
“I’m not judging,” Margret quickly assures her, “If you
understanding what judgement really is.” She pauses searching in Natika’s
perfect bone structure for an answer, “I’ve never been in a war, or fought in
one; but I have met soldiers that have. My grandfather actually, fought in
World War II. His job was to pick up the bodies after D-day. The American soldiers,
off of Normandy Beach. One of his best friends discharged, couldn’t handle the
duty of picking up pieces of American Soldiers.” She finds Natika’s eyes, which
seem to beg to understand.
“I try…” Natika discouragingly shakes her head.
“I know.” Margret interrupts. “I tell you because I want you
to understand what you face. What all of you face on our planet. Earthlings can
be brutal and merciless. In battle, you are either on a team or against a team.
There is no listening to your heart and what is right or wrong. It is what side
are you on ad who are you willing to die for.”
Natika withdrawal her sword into a fashionable ring upon her
finger taking Margret’s arm into hers , “You are wise a million times than I
ever will be when it comes to planet Earth, no matter what kind of warrior I am
on our planet. I do not understand your Earth or its multitude of customs. A
planet so divided, many rulers, many beliefs, all colliding….”
“There surely must be other planets out there besides ours.
Based on so much good and evil, so equally divided? Earth can’t be the only
one.”
“Earth is not. There are other planets that we believe are
equally of Earth or perhaps worse, but none within our Realm. None so close.”
Margret gives a mocking scoff.
“What is it?” Natika pleas to understand.
“Oh nothing, just the comment of ‘so close.’ An idea that Earth is close to Cepae is not in our definition.” Margret stops unlocking
her arms from Natika and withdrawing her sword to the perfect stone upon her
finger. “Our planet does not work, Natika, truth be told. We have hatred, evil,
and people killing people over beliefs, colors of skin, religions, or the mere
fact that a person may have looked at them wrong or cut them off in traffic.”
“Traffic?” Natika tries to keep up with Margret’s rambles.
“The point is,” Margret sighs, “Cepae is coming to help
fight a battle that you could be killed for the mere fact that you look human…
with wings on your back. Earthlings fear anything and everything that they cannot
understand or that we cannot process in our feeble brains. You will all be in
danger, no matter what side you feel you
are fighting for.”
A voice chimes in from behind the two women, “Our passion will
be fighting for all Cepae descendants that reside on Earth. Knowing or not.”
“Zulima!” Margret excitedly announces, falling into her arms
with a humongous hug, her heart now vulnerable to the Cepae customs.
Natika joins with a brief hug as Zulima lightens her grip on
Margret.
“So wonderful Zulima. What brings you?” Natika inquires.
“It’s time.” Zulima chokes through her lower vocal cord.
The women look at her, trying to figure out the exact
meaning of her words.
“Colm will meet you Margret. Natika, the other warriors
await you to begin. Transportation toward Earth will depart morning. Earth is
in danger of takeover from Divobite’. Other Planeteers are close to entering
Earth’s atmosphere as we speak.”
“Divobite’?” Margret questions.
“The vampires.” Zulima qualifies. “Please, Natika, find the
other warriors. I’ll find Margret to Colm.”
“Of course, Zulima. I will see you both at transportation.”
She nods and hurries off.
“Zulima…” Margret begins.
“Margret, Opal and Nacreous are eager to board the
transportation. Your wings will be ready or battle.” Zulima informs her tone,
flat and her face expressionless.
“Zulima…” Margret tries to intercept the conversation.
“Margret!” Colm exclaims running to her, smuggling her in an
embrace, grabbing her cheeks and pulling her into a kiss. “Come, on, we must
go.”
“Colm, Zulima, I don’t understand why she is going, why…”
she tries to understand.
“All healers are summoned for battle, Margret.” He informs
her as if she should already know.
Margret’s head tries to find Zulima but she has already
disappeared. “Colm…” Margret struggles to explain.
“Margret,” he interrupts, “It’s the way we work together.
Warriors go nowhere without the healers. We are all family.”
********
Bruinen’s steps fall heavy through the house that is white,
American claimed on the planet Earths; Nawfar close to his side, her small
footsteps twice for every one of his. The other Acquavodians’ steps echo short
behind his, relieving little stress of the Earthling’s never ending red carpet,
crystal chandeliers and miscellaneous country flags, reminding of what country
on Earth you must be loyal to.
Bruinen finds the air through his lungs as they finally
stop, the suited men turning toward him, opening a set of doors simultaneous as
though their whole lives were dedicated for that moment.
Bruinen hesitantly enters through the doors, greeted by a
multitude of suited men standing from the wooden desk, in front of their black
leathered chairs. “Acquavodians.” President Cromwell greets. He pulls himself from
behind his chair and briskly greets Bruinen, shaking his hand within his. “I
apologize if I’m overstepping, this is a common American custom.”
Bruinen briefly tries to grin, “Yes, I have come to know.
Excuse me for my immediate question, but where are the rest of the Planeteers?”
“On their way. We, White House Chief of Staff, Mr. Watson,
our National Security Council, Advisor and also of Homeland Security. It’s a privilege
for you to join us here; we’ve made accommodations for Planeteers leaders in
another area, able to communicate with your armies, of course.
Bruinen feels his fist involuntary clinch as he turns his
head toward Marlin, in returns slightly raises an eyebrow. “I’m not exactly
sure how Earth runs their… ‘Armies’ but we stay beside our fellow comrades. No
matter what our… ‘Status’ be on our planet.”
Cromwell turns towards Watson who stands and approaches. “We
understand this dilemma, Sir Bruinen, is it okay to address you as so?”
“Sovereign Bruinen.” Bruinen nods.
“Of course, Sovereign Bruinen. Normally, perhaps on your
planet, you would stand next to your comrade, as a King would his army in
battle. However, we are entering a war with other planets, other realms.
Nothing that Earth has ever encountered before. It is of most importance that
the… spokes people… may I tip toe around the title safely, we cannot allow
anything to happen which could comprise your planets stability.”
Bruinen’s head falls downward toward Nawfar, her small oval
face tilting towards his. “Let us discuss this.” She finally speaks up, her squeaky
voice almost knocking the room from their feet.
“Of course.” Cromwell chimes in. “Please let me personally
escort you to a room for discussion. Privately.”
Cromwell nods toward the men in the room exiting, and
Bruinen takes his mild signal with the others following.
They quietly walk up the stairs, following the President.
“This is American history.” He finally tries to break the awkward silence.
“Every room has its own stories. It’s an American honor to serve our people and
live here. I don’t take my duty lightly. Elected, by our country, many
countries on Earth do not have that luxury. The people of America have many
years and continue to fight for a certain freedom.”
“Don’t we all?” Nawfar chimes in.
Taken off guard Cromwell pauses for a moment turning toward
her, “One should hope so.” President Cromwell dips toward the petite elf like
woman. “However, all of Earth isn’t so.
Power is what many Earthlings crave.”
“Do you mean to tell me your America doesn’t crave power on
planet Earth?” Bruinen adds. “Are you all…”
“Everyone on Earth craves power.” Cromwell’s lips tighten
for a moment as he opens the doors in front of them, “Yellow Oval Office,
ladies and gentlemen.”
Bruinen stops and watches the president for a moment before
entering the room. “The other Planeteers…”
“Will be here soon.” President Cromwell assures them.
The five of them enter the room, Bruinen studying the
surroundings carefully, his eyes shifting toward Nawfar. She ignores Bruinen’s
eyes finding comfort on the sofa. “Are we to be content here until others
arrive?”
Cromwell finds seating across from her, ignoring that the
others stand above him, “What is Acquavodo’s plan?”
“Marlin is our lead of defenders,” she answers immediately, “After we arrived he has called upon for more
of our defenders to join us. They will enter through the triangle, where
Tsunami, his daughter, and one of our most respected interpreters, Kae, will
meet them.”
Cromwell’s eyes can’t help to shift to Bruinen, standing
behind Nawfar, as if was directing his question toward him. Bruinen lays his
hand on Nawfar’s shoulder, slightly squeezing it of reassurance, nodding toward
Cromwell in agreement.
“Should we arrange to meet your defenders…” Cromwell begins.
“We will guide them to where they need to be. Please know
our strongest point in battle is, of course, with or around water. We will not
have much use on Earth soil otherwise.” Nawfar reminds Cromwell of their
weakness.
“Of course.” Cromwell acknowledges standing. “We will be
required to collaborate with the United Nations, of course. I am sure there
will need to be an agreement between our Nations. We will need to spread the
Planeteers among us, for us,
countries on Earth, to feel somewhat safe in what is unraveling here.”
Bruinen suddenly derides, “What about the Planeteers’
feeling safe? You are one whole world that could easily decide to turn against
us. Having the Planeteers divided amongst your planet leaves us little assurance
in our safety.”
“I would think they would all agree, dividing our Realm if
non-negotiable. We have alliances for years beyond your Earthling
comprehension. You will need to agree to which one of your countries we all
reside.” Nawfar securely announces.
“Very well.” President Cromwell bobs his head. “You will
have to excuse me while I return to the Conference room for further counsel
between all United Nations. Will you find comfort here, if I were to excuse
myself?”
The Acquavodians’ exchange glances and finally Bruinen
agrees, “We will, if promised we will be notified of any other arrivals of our
alliances.”
“Of course.” Cromwell assures. “I will also make sure you
find comforts in some of our American cuisine. Please make yourself comfortable.
Intelligence outside the doors for your safety, I assure you.”
President Cromwell finds the doubles doors and begins to
open them, “Sir!” Tsunami unexpectedly calls, “Before you head through the door…”
He turns toward the young woman with a raised eyebrow.
“Kae and I would like to head toward the triangle, to meet
our men, as soon as possible. To make sure they do not arrive to hostile welcoming.”
Her chin tilts toward Bruinen and Nawfar waiting for encouragement.
“Of course.” Nawfar quickly stands up. “Marlin should go
too. Marlin will await our word before proceeding in anyway, I can assure you.”
“Very well, I’ll take this to the room and we will address
the UK and they will be in touch with RBDF. I don’t foresee any problem in your
request.” Cromwell agrees, “Any other
request before I proceed?”
Bruinen shakes his head, “No, we will wait patiently forward.”
Cromwell gives a reassuring grin before exiting, “I look
forward to our working together. Thank you for your understanding of our must
see customs.”
The door closes and Bruinen finds a seat next to Nawfar. He
takes her hand and whispers in her ear, “We will find what we need in Atlantis.
Tsunami will be successful.”
Nawfar’s eyes find Tsunami who is already studying the
delicacy of the room. “I know.” She whispers toward him.
*********
Margret’s hands stroke Colm’s chest under the dim light. The
transportation in headed toward Earth with over half of Cepae’s warriors,
little compared to one country of Earth. “I’m scared, but more so for the Cepae
people than anyone else.”
Colm kisses the top of Margret’s head, stroking her locks.
“My love, we are all a bit terrified.” He tenderly reminds her, “Not once ever
have I heard Cepae want to fight a battle, let alone on one the scariest
planets there is.”
“You all talk of Earth as if it is horrid.” Margret sighs.
“There are many good people there.”
“I have no doubt, you lived all your life there.” He smiles
to her, his fingers softly trailing down her spine.
She quickly perks up staring into his eyes, “You give me too
much credit.”
“You are not giving enough. What you have been through…” his
voice trails.
“Don’t feel sorry for me.” She commands, “If all hasn’t
happened to me I wouldn’t be who I am today. I wouldn’t be here.”
Colm intensely lock lips with Margret, their tongues slowly
intertwining, his thumb pressing against her chin he slowly pulls away, gazing
in her eyes. “I will be by your side, you and all your uncertainty.”
“You’ve been through training, but the other healers…”
Margret sadly whispers.
“We will protect them.” Colm assures her. “And I will not
let Zulima out of my sight. Or you, for that matter.”
Margret nuzzles her head to his shoulder, pressing her cheek
harder against his left chest. “Your heart, I love the beat.” She softly moans
closing her eyes.
*******
The clock ticks against the silence of the room. The Acquavodians
had already found little comfort in the American’s cuisine and the room was
quickly dissolved to dullness and impatience as they began to feel slightly imprisoned
from what was happening outside of that house.
“I’ve had enough.” Nawfar stands. “Silence is only welcomed
during peaceful moments and this is not one of them.”
Her pupils dilate as they meet Bruinen. “Agreed. Let’s find
Cromwell.”
As they ignore the other reactions and head toward the door
in swings open, Cromwell on the other side. His body slightly pulls back, not
expecting the duo so close to the entrance.
“Sovereigns Bruinen and Nawfar.” He addresses.
“Apologies, we were beginning to grow impatient. Nerves, I
suppose.” Nawfar squeaks at him with no shame.
“Understandable,” he agrees walking on passed them, addressing
all of them in the room, “Americans have military that will escort the three to
the Bahamas. There, the RBDF, Royal Bahamas Defense Force, will guide American troops
and the three of you. At this point our countries will collaborate on the best
defense from this point. We have had mysterious behavior in reptiles, along coast
lines of America shores, Australia and small parts of Africa and Asia. Parts of
the United Nations are convinced it could be relative to Romania. If this is
true, we will need your Planet dispersed through these regions, among the military’s.”
“It is possible for our planet to do this, assuming I am
able to gather our communication devices from our ships.” Marlin intercepts the
conversation.
Nawfar glances towards him in disapproval but he continues, “Our
communication must be maintained from our submerges, and from under water, to
keep them safe. These will need be controlled by Tsunami and Kae in the Bahamas.”
“I see no problem in your request.” Cromwell agrees. “In
addition, Sovereign Bruinen and Nawfar, the United Nations, already some
Planeteers beginning to land, such as Zeebla, Scylitan and Cepae, they are
being dispersed through the Earth United Nations.” Noticing the crinkle in
Nawfar’s forehead he quickly continues, “Nawfar and Bruinen will join me in the
conference room, having the ability to speak to other Planeteers at all times,
just as us, United Nations are able to communicate. We strongly believe this is
the greatest advantage to all involved.”
Bruinen and Nawfar share a pause, evaluating one another’s
expressions. Finally Bruinen speaks, “Very well. We are also agreement with our
fellow Planeteers. Nawfar and I will keep footing in the United States of
America while our fellow Planeteers shelter with others of your United Nation.”
President Cromwell gestures, “Follow me then. The rest of
you will follow the agents to your destinations. I’ll give you a brief moment
to say your good-byes and wait right outside the door.” Cromwell shuts the door
behind him.
As the men gather Nawfar hurries to Tsunami. “Find it. You might
only have this one chance to bring it home.”
*******
Margret finds her way through the ships’ long hallways, the
interior slightly appearing translucent against the prism lighting. She waits for
a moment, the lucent barrier opening itself to her. Margret finds Zulima,
standing among Zagzagel and Serafim, softly speaking to one another.
Zulima tilts toward Margret, pulling her in, holding her
hand, and subtly allowing her to join the conversation.
Zagzagel barely acknowledges finishing his sentence, “and
they are in parts of country Hungary, why we are not heading in from that
angle.”
“Who is?” Margret turns toward Zulima.
“The Divobitians.” Zulima softly squeezes her hand with her
attention returned to Zagzagel. “Father and Mother say we are meeting an army
of Earthlings calling them Franco-German Brigade. From these Earthlings, we
will learn more of our place among the defensive lines. Father and Mother will
be located at another station, here they will be able to communicate with other
Planeteers’ leaders.”
“What will this place be called that they are taken to? How
will we reassure their safety?” Serafim inquires.
Margret blinks her eyes, trying to fight the visions of war
and pain that try to press on her mind. The visions she begins having are dark,
blood being spilled from throats…
“A country Earthlings call Switzerland, the city Geneva.
There are other countries, Austria, Italy, Czech and Poland… We will learn more
from Franco-German Brigade of where they will stand.” Zulima’s eyes shift for a
brief moment as she gathers more of her thought, “The main struggle the
Earthlings are facing is the technology. They do not have the weaponry to have an
immediate elimination of the Divobitians. There are few of them compared to the
Earthlings. However, the Divobitians are rapidly spreading their infections
among the Earth, allowing those to join them become one of them and those who refuse
they destroy.”
“Building their army while destroying Earthlings who will
not obey.” Serafim summarizes.
Margret’s head tilts, finding her index finger pushing
against its temple. The horrid pictures become stronger, hearing please and
cries of mercy. Pleading for life of their children’s survival as a woman and
man with red eyes rip them away from sobbing mother’s arms.
She takes a deep breath but her breathing quickly becomes
rapid while trying to shake the haunting images. The three oblivious to Margret as she struggles to
pretend.
“We will need to inform the Earthlings of the technology the
Planeteers hold. Taking us to the front lines, stopping the death.” Zagzagel
decides.
“Yes, I agree, but we also must pursue our suggestions
heavily, while sounding nonthreatening to the United Nations ideas.” Serafim
follows.
“Agreed. It will be important.” Zulima nods.
Margret’s head becomes dizzy.
“Margret, perhaps you will be the best resource in our
communication.” Serafim suggest now turning toward her.
“I…” she struggles to stay in the conversation, to stay
focus on the men standing before her.
Zulima finally realizing the emptiness in Margret’s eyes
stands before her grabbing her arms. “What is it, Child? Are you okay?” her
hands quickly find their way to Margret’s brow, a faint glow pushing gleaming
from her fingertips.
Margret tries shaking it out of her head again, sealing her
eyes and quickly opening, embracing the healing light flowing from Zulima’s
fingertips deep in her temples “These visions as you are speaking… they are
just… strong.
“What do you see?” Zagzagel questions, “Can you communicate
it?”
Margret takes a deep breath, “It’s just killing and death. I
don’t know if it’s what is happening now or to come. It was triggered only now
when you were speaking of everything… maybe it’s just made up in my head…” She
gains clear focus as Zulima removed her hands from Margret’s head.
“Better?” Zulima whispers with concern.
Margret bobs her head with assurance. “Yes. Thank you.”
“I can assure you it is very real.” Zulima finds her chin,
meeting her eyes. “Do you know of these armies and countries we speak of?”
Margret sheepishly shrugs, “Know of the countries, yes. Been
to them? No. If you handed me a blank world map I would not be able to site
which country lays on it. Except, Italy. That is the boot.”
“The boot?” Serafim becomes curious.
“It is irrelevant.” Margret inhales deeply, “Just an
American school girl trick to remember where the country sits in Europe. Forget
it,” she switches gear with a burst of gumption, “ I will fight and I will take
direction. I will be useless about
culture and customs while we are there but I will use every ounce of strength I’ve
learned on the Cepae planet.”
Zagzagel confusingly adds, “It is your planet we will be on but
you will not know of your own culture and customs? ”
“I’m not an idiot Zag.” She refers to him, “But I don’t own the planet either. There are over
billions of earthlings, customs, beliefs… I am only one person.”
“Let her be.” Zulima suggest, “Her visions are strong now
and haunting. She needs to find peace now.”
“Of course,” Serafim agrees, “I hear visions can be mentally
draining. We need her sharp when we arrive.”
Zulima tugs at Margret’s arm pulling her away. “When I have
more information I will bring it. Until then, inform the others.” She adds to
the men before entering the hallway with Margret.
“Where are you taking me?” Margret wonders.
“Perhaps…” Zulima begins nuzzling closer in, “You should
stay with Father and Mother in the country where Geneva resides.”
“Absolutely not.” Margret protest stopping Zulima. “Why
would you suggest…”
“I know your heart is in the right place, however…” Zulima
begins.
“The answer is no.” Margret interrupts, “I don’t care what
the reason is. I will be out there with you and Colm.”
“Your visions could provide…” again Zulima tries to explain
.
“No. No. No.,” she shakes her head vigorously. “Absolutely
not. This is the end of this
conversation. Besides, my visions aren’t powerful enough yet, not to mention unpredictable.
I’m not sitting on the sidelines worrying. I will be with you and Colm. Now if
you will excuse me,” she gives Zulima a halfhearted hug and begins walking down
the hall.
“Colm isn’t down that way.” Zulima calls.
“I’m not going to see Colm, I’m going to visit Opal. He
calls to me.” She announces and continuing on.
Natika walks up behind Zulima touching her elbow gently, “Is
everything well?”
“Natika,” Zulima softly speaks, sliding Natika’s hand to her
forearm not letting go. “I want Yourself and Colm close to Margret and I at all
times. Help me be aware when she is having visions.”
“Yes, of course, Zulima. Is there need of worry?” Natika
questions baffled.
“Not yet.” Zulima turns toward her, “but if Margret has any
while in battle, it could quickly be the cause of death.”
****
