Anthony Greer's Blog, page 2

Koston chapter 1

The ecstasy of his release was much needed. Koston felt his breath escape him as he pulled himself out of his younger lover and took to the pillows beside him, drenched in his own musky sweat.Damien rolled onto his back beside him and smiled from ear to ear. “Good gods that was hot!”Koston felt Damien’s eyes on him, but he found himself glancing nervously at the windows of Damien’s home. Black curtains were draped over the already closed blinds. The younger man’s bedroom door was locked and his front door was bolted shut upon Koston’s arrival. He told Damien that it was the only way he would to come by, to which Damien had rolled his eyes during their telechat and reminded the captain that he knew the drill. The young man leaned over and draped a hand across Koston’s chest, swirling a finger around the patch of fur between his pectorals. He cuddled up beside the captain’s shoulder in an attempt to be enveloped in his nook. “Tell me,” He said, “you’ll still be able to visit even after you become the queen’s advisor, won’t you?”Koston remained flat on his back and stared at the white ceiling and the skylight had been covered to conceal their activities. He let his thoughts run adrift, forgetting that Damien had even asked him a question.Damien’s hazel eyes glossed over Koston’s muscular frame, taking mental pictures of his physique for those times when Koston couldn’t be around. “I know it will be more difficult for you to, but I promise I’ll make it worth it.”Koston watched Damien lick his lips seductively, coyly trying to get an answer out of him, but as soon as Koston had finished inside of him, his thoughts returned to his immediate future. The following morning he and his son would travel to Kalia to visit his cousin, Queen Justine. The day after his return home to Cardeau, his inauguration party was to begin. He would no longer be the Captain of Cardeau: the job he had dreamt of having until the day of his retirement. His life would no longer be about maintaining peace within the palace walls. That fantasy came to an end the moment those cursed words left his lips on the day he saw his queen come close to a break down. His lover rolled away from him and sat up in his bed. It was only then that Koston bid him attention, but it was too late. Their night of sexual prowess and distractions had come to an end, done so by the man who desperately needed his mind to be elsewhere.“Damien, I’m sorry.”Damien’s head slid back toward Koston’s direction just enough for the captain to see his sly smile. “You have no reason to be sorry. I know why you come here, and in all of the years that you have, have I ever once misconstrued our relationship with one another?” No, but talking about it doesn’t help. Koston sat up, resting his back against the rickety headboard. He eyed the edges of the bed, as if the mattress was a raft and the water beyond was corroded. As much as he had looked forward to their evening between the sheets, he could do nothing but think of the next few days and how his life would be forever changed. Damien must have noticed his reluctance and placed a consoling hand on his knee. “You are going to be an amazing advisor.”Damien’s words fell deaf to Koston’s ears. His knights had been telling him the same thing ever since the announcement of his inauguration was made. People in the streets were already bowing to him and sometimes asked if they could get an autograph or even hold his hand. The palace servants were no different. A few of them sometimes waited outside of his apartment in the palace to tell him how blessed they felt to wash his sheets and fold his clothes. His young lover laughed. “I fear that I might not have done enough to satisfy you. You seem deeper in thought now than when you came in.”“I’m sorry.”“Stop apologizing—especially after that!” Damien placed a hand on his chest again. “My heart is still racing.”Koston was able to break a smile. “I know what you like.”“You do,” he replied. “I, uh, I got a little something to show you my sign of support.”Koston hid his grimace from Damien as his younger lover got out of bed, wearing nothing but a sheet he’d draped around his loins. He knelt down toward his nightstand and grabbed a frame that had been leaning against it. Damien first held it against his chest, concealing it from him as if he was about to give him the greatest birthday gift ever. When he revealed it, it took every ounce of Koston’s strength not to wince.The frame revealed not one picture, but two. The image on the left was of Abraham Donnick, Koston’s grandfather, who started out as the youngest child from a family in poverty and went on to become the Monarch Superior. He wasn’t just any Monarch Superior, but the one that was said to have prevented seven wars and helped the world become more prosperous than any other Superior in the last three centuries. The image on the right was of Koston in his Captain’s uniform. People always told him that he looked just like his grandfather, and in this pair of images the resemblance was uncanny. They shared the same shoulder-length dirty blonde hair, the same noble brown eyes, and bore the tracings of the same smile that made the world confident in their actions and feel safe in their care. “The people of Cardeau—Gods, the people of Noreis all believe that you are the second coming of your grandfather. I’ve been hearing wishes and whispers of those longing for you to trace his footsteps for years. People talk about it in the streets, pray for it in the churches… they even speak of it in the brothels. You are going to be a great advisor, Koston,” Damien said, resting the dual picture on his nightstand. “I just hope you’ll still find time for me while you’re out there making the world a better place.”Koston could only nod, genuinely at a loss for words. He expected his knights, his servants, and Cardeau civilians to present him with tokens of their admiration. He just wasn’t expecting it from his whore as well.

Captain Donnick knew that he wouldn’t be able to go straight from Damien’s to his quarters. Queen Kallisto would never allow that—not with so much happening in his absence. He wasn’t yet her advisor, but that didn’t stop her from adding to his responsibilities. She was going to make sure that this transition was as miserable as possible. In return, he was going to stand by her and use his weight to keep her on the throne. Those that dared to speak told him that they didn’t understand why he was helping her. His response was always the same: “you don’t have to.”The queen wore a bright blue dress that would have made any other woman look like a fairy tale princess. When Kallisto wore it, it looked like the gown of an ice queen. The blue matched her icy eyes while her platinum hair draped around her shoulders. It rarely moved when she spoke, as if it had been frozen in time. A white circlet was placed atop her head and her bangs were interwoven into it like snakes wrapping around it, squeezing life out of the fake white leaves. “I messaged you nearly an hour ago,” Kallisto said from the head of the conference table with a glass of schnapps in her hand, looking as if she’d sat perfectly still while waiting for his arrival.Koston blushed and ran his fingers through his hair to make sure that no strands were out of place. He didn’t need Kallisto to know why he wasn’t answering her calls. “My apologies,” he said, taking a seat to the right of her. “What can I do for you, Your Highness?”“Well, I wanted to go over the seating chart for the inauguration dinner, being that you’re leaving tomorrow on an ill-planned vacation that will occupy your time right up until the party,” she scathed. “But while Terence and I were waiting for you, we did it ourselves. We also met to finalize the courses and the wine selection for the cocktail party afterward—all things that you were supposed to take care of over a week ago.”I cannot wait to work with you on a daily basis. “I am sorry, my queen,” he said with an obligatory lowering of his head. “I’ve been busy working with Sir Poltowe. I want to ensure that he’s prepared to lead the Guard during this transition.”“The knights of Cardeau practically run themselves. There hasn’t been an attack on this palace in sixty years. Helping Sir Poltowe prepare marching patterns and writing tedious schedules is hardly at the top of your list of priorities, and as my advisor you’re going to have to master organizing that list and manage your time more wisely.”The memories of rolling around naked in the sheets with Damien felt distant in her presence. All of the joy he only just experienced was flushed out of him. “I will learn, Your Highness.”“You’re going to have to,” she replied. “We have a lot to accomplish the moment that ceremony ends, from the second you say that oath until my throne is no longer challenged. I have no intention of being relieved of my title, and the very thought of losing it to Chiron Roltare—”“It will not happen.”Although the kings and queens of Noreis often served lifelong terms, many of the city-states placed limitations to their absolutism in their constitutions. If a monarch was deemed unfit to rule, or if there was enough apprehension about their ability to run a city-state with the people’s best interest in mind, a new leader could be elected in their place. The people of Noreis had discovered long ago that allowing for special votes proved to be a much better solution than physically removing a monarch from office by execution or revolution. District Representative Chiron Roltare had long been opposed to the queen’s actions and was quite vocal about wanting to take her place. Unfortunately, he was no better than she was. His opinions and policies went to the highest bidder. His stances changed as often as his investors, and he had little respect for the people he represented. While Kallisto wasn’t the most admirable leader Cardeau had ever seen, she at least kept her platform consistent. Even if she was about to run him ragged, he could at least respect the woman she used to be; the woman that was there for his late wife in her most desperate times of need. Every now and then he caught a glimpse of that Kallisto; a glimmer of the philanthropic social worker that once gave girls a role model and women an aspiration. That person was still there somewhere, at least in his mind. “It sounds like most of the preparations for the inaugural ceremony are in order,” Koston said. “I met with Terence the other day to discuss the oath and the closing party.”“You did?” Kallisto said, defrosting a little. “He didn’t mention that.”“You had asked me to,” he replied. “I managed to find time in my busy schedule. I figured that, since I’m gone for the next few days, it would be one less thing on your very full plate.”“One less thing, yes.” She sighed. “Oh, Koston, if you only knew just how large that plate is.”“I will soon. And when I return we will work together to take on the duties that Advisor Tarkinson abandoned upon his resignation.”Kallisto crossed one leg over the other. “And we will work together to ensure that we can avoid any further… scandals.”Yes, though “scandal” is a polite word for what you had done, my queen.“Is there anything else you require of me?” he asked. “I have an early morning tomorrow.”“No,” she said plainly. “Everything I needed from you was done before you got here. Get some rest. I’ll see you in a few days.”Koston didn’t waste his time trying to escape the queen’s conference room. The chills she emitted from her bittering presence were beginning to seep under his skin. He withdrew himself from his seat beside her and headed towards the door.“Koston,” she said. Her words paralyzed his feet.“Are you planning on walking around the busier palace halls on your way back to your quarters?”“I don’t know, why?”“Because you shouldn’t,” she scolded. “And adjust your collar. I cannot have my future right hand looking like a whore… or smelling like one, for that matter.”Koston could think of no response. Instead he kept walking, leaving the queen to the iciness she’d emitted in the room.

To read "The Raven of Dusk: Transcendence" -- http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00VUGO0SQ

The Beginning: Author Commentary

Raiden Arias follows his father in pursuing Rexus Poloray in the deep echolons of the Malysai Rain Forest. With ravenous beasts lurking about, Raiden's only allies in this journey are the dark, the quite, and his gunblade. Before he is able to escape the darkness within, Raiden's life will be changed forever...

Raven of Dusk: Transcendence Trailer

Author commentary for "The Beginning" will be a day late, so here's a second look at the trailer for the first book of The Raven of Dusk series: Transcendence.

World of Dusk: The Beginning

World of Dusk: The Beginning                                                                                       
The mist, emitted through the limbs of trees, grew thicker the further Raiden tracked Father into the untamed regions of the Malysai rain forest. There were no more houses or people to be seen; the trees were growing taller and left unkempt. The branches and leaves smacked Raiden’s air shuttle like fanged demons trying to bite through the glass.  Without the shimmers from the forest lights, there was only Hela to guide his way. However, Hela was descending and soon the moon would claim the sky and give the mist a ghostly glow. He was thankful that he didn’t have much further to go. Father and Hastings would soon park and navigate the rest of the way on foot, and then Rexus Poloray would find himself either apprehended or dead.Twin red beams in the distance indicated that Father turned on the brake lights to his shuttle. The vehicle hovered to a stop nearly twenty feet above the ground, then lowered until the bottom rails kissed a clearing of dirt. Raiden should have been relieved that the driving portion was over, but he only grew more nervous. They must have been getting close. Raiden dimmed his headlights and floated in the sea of thick gray clouds. He wasn’t ready to let them know that he’d followed them—especially after he was instructed not to. He found another clearing about a thousand feet from where they parked and quietly landed his air shuttle on a soft pile of leaves. A pair of bushes beside Raiden’s shuttle emitted a flurry of tiny green orbs. They fluttered into the air and evaporated like dying fireflies.He examined the gunblade holster on his passenger seat. He had no training with it beyond what Father had taught him back when he was a boy, and he had not been a boy in quite some time. The happy memories of fencing with Father with nothing but sticks and laughter would have to do. Childhood memories faded once the fear set in. He knew all too well what sort of primal creatures resided in the deep, dark echelons of the rain forest. Once he opened that shuttle door, there would be no turning back. Raiden’s only chances of surviving would be to become one with the forest; to be another creature wandering about with the dusk and the quiet as his two closest allies.I can turn around. I can leave and forget all about this and no one would know. But then Raiden thought of their conversation after breakfast. He couldn’t let Father do this without him—not when it involved Riles’ life. He needed to keep his distance until they were too far into the woods to turn back. Only then would Father allow him to continue with him and Hastings.The two disappeared deeper into the District of Shadows up ahead. Raiden speed-walked through the wildberry bushes and the plants that exhaled orbs of yellow and white. Their flickering lights paved his way. The canopy above was so thick that only traces of Hela’s rays made it through them.Raiden reached Father’s shuttle, but there was no telling how far ahead he and Hastings were. At least the alcove they’d parked in front of made it clear where they were heading. Between a set of trees as wide as palace walls were a pair of leaves so large they must have weighed five pounds apiece. They bent toward one another and formed an archway into another world.Raiden crossed under them and found that the angled trees no longer allowed the rays from above to seep through. The only lights were the flurries of orbs dispersed by the plants around him, and they were evaporating quickly. Father and Hastings could have been within an arm’s length and he wouldn’t know it. Something else could have been just as close.Raiden withdrew his gunblade. The pistol itself was less than half a foot in length, but when he thrust it forward a silver, three-foot-long blade shot out of it. If anything was looking for prey, he’d be ready for it.He stepped forward into the darkness, feeling the bristles of leaves tickle his ankles. The greens around him sighed and pale orbs of chartreuse and white flecked a foot into the air. Somewhere from above the birds were chirping, oblivious to anything beneath them. His paces were slow and steady. He tried to count his steps, but lost track sometime after one hundred when the flutter of wings flew around the thick leaves of trees to his left. Raiden jumped into his battle stance with his gunblade in front of him only to feel silly a second later. Of all the things to fear in the forest, the birds weren’t among them.He wondered how much time had passed and hoped that Father and Hastings were going in the same direction. According to the stories, the treetops blocked out the skies above for days. In reality it was probably no more than ten or fifteen miles in circumference, but he didn’t think to map it out beforehand. He felt stupid for not planning ahead.The bushes in front of him stirred. Whatever it was seemed much larger than a bird. He strained his ears to hear whatever it was. It was moving left, then closer to him. He heard the tiny branches snapping beneath its feet, or paws, or claws.“Stop right there.”Whatever it was had stopped fifteen or twenty feet in front of him. He silenced his breathing to hear the grumbling of the nearby creature.More orbs flecked into the air in a V formation, but evaporated just as abruptly as they started. One of the orbs allowed him to catch a glimpse of the deep purple fur of the creature before him.Shit. Raiden thought. Only a few creatures bore such color, and of those few only one of them was native to the Malysai rain forest. He was standing before a behemoth, the king of the woods. Behemoths were one of the many reasons the District of Shadows remained uninhabited by people. Adults grew to seven or eight feet in height; their claws were often stained red with dried blood. Its fur varied in shades of purple and royal blue, and its eyes were as dark as a starless night. He heard many stories of rain forest hikers making camp too close to their territory. The scent of humans was like a butcher’s cut of steak to behemoths. Even if their snarls were heard as they slinked toward their prey, no human could outrun them. Those they tried were devoured, leaving nothing but the remnants of their cracked bones as evidence that an attack had ever occurred.If this behemoth wanted to challenge him, he stood little chance of surviving.He maintained his battle stance, trying his best to ignore his sweaty palms on the hilt of the gunblade. The behemoth hadn’t moved either, but he still heard its grunting as it dug its nails into the dirt beneath its paws. It was preparing to lunge at him.“Away!” Raiden shouted in its direction. He shot a stun orb into the air a few feet above where the behemoth was roughly standing. The yellow orb flew north and evaporated into the leaves. The behemoth yelped, but stood its ground.The yelp made Raiden’s ears perk. He shot another stun orb just a little above where he assumed the creature would be. As it grazed by, Raiden saw the silhouette of a creature three, maybe four feet tall at most. It was a behemoth for sure, but a young one. The behemoth retracted its claws from the dirt and started to back up.“Away!” Raiden threatened. This time he fired a stun orb right at it. The behemoth let out another yelp and took off in the opposite direction. The stun orb would’ve only temporarily paralyzed it, but the creature didn’t know that. Raiden would have only hurt it if necessary. It was protecting its habitat, just as Raiden had set out to protect his own.The stun orb crashed into a tree stump a couple of hundred feet ahead. Raiden got a glimpse of another stump next to the first and cocked his head. It was unusual in this part of the forest to see two stumps in such close proximity. He quickened his pace and retracted his gunblade. Whether or not Father and Hastings went this way was yet to be discovered, but he needed to put some distance between him and the young behemoth. He didn’t want to be there if it ran to its mother.A pile of sludge puckered around his boots just before he reached the wooden stumps. He scowled and fought with the puddle to lift them. It was as thick as drying cement and almost won the fight, but Raiden managed to remove his feet from the muddy claws. Several plants around him exhaled another set of orbs and cast light on two other sets of footprints trudging toward the base of the stumps. Father and Hastings had come this way. The orbs lit up a whole line of them; a stairway in the middle of the forest. He hoisted himself onto the first one, which was more than three feet off of the ground. The rest of the stumps weren’t as steep, but he had to jump onto them and hope that his strides were large enough. The second stump was just a foot higher and a few feet away. The one he stood on was large enough for him to get a running start, so he backed up to the edge and darted forward, leaping onto the second stump and sticking the landing with ease. The next several wooden platforms proved to be just as easy to navigate. Some even had tiny plants on the ends of the stumps emitting orbs of light and revealing a path to the top. He jumped again, but too far this time and gasped as his left heel barely grazed the stump's edge. He kicked off a pile of sludge that had been amassing at the edge and watched as it broke into fragments of mud disappearing into the nothingness below. He must have been more than twenty feet in the air; he still had a long way to go.I can do this… I can do this.Heights didn’t often usually scare him, but he found not being able to see the ground terrifying. If he fell, the darkness would swallow him whole and his body would be lost to the District of Shadows forever. He closed his eyes and thought of the son he left home with his mother; the son that Rexus Poloray had threatened to kill if he didn’t get the information he wanted. The thought of losing him was far scarier than a leap into the unknown. He jumped again. His breathing cut short as soon as he left the safety of the stump. His legs pushed through the still air and he felt the colors of the lights of the orbs in front of him…And then he felt the solid wood beneath his feet. He opened his eyes and sighed with relief. He was going to be just fine. The breeze briefly reassembled the leaves and Raiden got a clear view of Hela through an opening in the treetops. It was descending quickly—much faster than he thought it would. He could no longer be afraid of the unknown before him. There wasn’t enough time for that. He leapt again without worrying whether he’d land on a stump or break his legs on the ground far below. And then he did it again, and again, and again. He must have been a hundred feet in the air by the time he saw a stump that was only half-visible, concealed behind a wall of emerald and crimson leaves. He stopped just before it. With a deep breath he sprang, plowing through the wall of leaves before him, and landing on the stump on the other side.Raiden got a glimpse of his startled father somewhere in front of him, then nearly slipped forward over the edge of the stump. He put his hands out to balance himself as the arches of his feet teetered on the corner of the wooden platform.“Ray!” Father exclaimed and bolted toward him. Raiden swore he heard Hastings scoff, but he was too focused on maintaining his balance so that he didn’t slip off the edge. He waved his arms backward as a means of pushing more of his weight onto the stump. His heart raced wildly, but he knew he could do it. He wasn’t about to fall to his death before even seeing the man who had threatened the life of his son.Father rushed to the edge of the crisscrossing tree limbs that were supporting him and Hastings. Before he had a chance to grab for his son, Raiden placed all of his weight on the heels of his feet and safely scooted backwards. “Phew,” Raiden sighed.“Ray,” Father’s tone switched from shock and worry to parental and foreboding. It reminded Raiden of the time he was caught stealing chocolate-covered blueberries from the market. He never forgot the look of shame engraved on Father’s face. It was a shade of disappointment that he never wanted to see again. Father must have known that, or else he wouldn’t be looking at him the same way now. “Ray, what in Noreis—”“Don’t even, Dad,” Raiden snarled. “I’m a father to Riles just as you are a father to me. I wouldn’t expect you to not take action if you got word that someone had threatened my life, so you shouldn’t expect any different from me.”Father’s gray eyes grew morose. “I should never have told you.”“Arias’,” Hastings said with a scowl on his face and hands on his hips, “We still have a little ways to go.”Hastings had been Father’s partner in the Serenity Seekers for three years. Raiden wanted to like him, but the man always seemed full of himself. He was also far too close to Raiden's age to keep Raiden from thinking that Hastings might have been the version of him that Father would have preferred. Father had always wished that Raiden had joined the Seekers. It nearly broke his heart the day Raiden revealed to him that he wanted to work as a tour guide for the Tri-City Forest. Hearing about Father’s missions with Hastings caused Raiden to wonder if he had made the right decision.“Father, this morning you mentioned that Rexus was curious about the Transcendence Theory. What about it?”Father exchanged glances with Hastings and then his son. “Dusk of the Eternal, Dawn of the First, Three and Three, the Second reveals the Third.”Raiden blinked. “What the hell does that mean?”“Walk and talk, guys,” Hastings grumbled, turning from them. He continued to watch his footing as he alternated between the tree limbs. Hastings seemed numb to the sizable drop that could spell death should one misstep and fall. Raiden eyed the crisscrossing limbs that his father and Hastings were standing on with caution. They were two curiously large platforms of wood that formed a double helix and traveled through another sheet of leaves. He leapt onto one of them with ease and found himself having to look up at Father yet again. Raiden fell in line with Father, who had begun to follow his partner when he finally answered his son’s question. “That is what your mother told me. As for what it means, I’m not sure that even she knows. Either that or, despite a thirty-year betrothal, she still doesn’t trust me.”“You were only married for eighteen of those years.”“She will always be my wife.”“Technically your divorce made her your ex-wife.”Father increased his pace to catch up with his partner. “Say what you will, son, but you were too young to fully understand the circumstances surrounding our separation.”“I wasn't too young. She was too absent.” Raiden said while having a hard time keeping up.“Absent, yes, but that woman will always be your mother. She did what she thought was best for everyone.”“She did what was best for her.”Father stopped moving. Somewhere in the distance Hastings had groaned, but it didn’t stop him from rushing ahead.Raiden bit his tongue and squinted. He knew what he was about to be in for.“Your mother is a complicated woman. Do I believe in everything that she did and the choices that she made? No, but I understand why she did it. You would have never met your wife if she hadn’t, and you wouldn’t have that beautiful son to go home to. It was the right thing to do back then, just as her telling me about Rexus was the right thing to do now. Let’s do what we came here to do, then go back home.”At last Father said something he agreed with. Raiden followed in his footsteps without saying another word as they walked forward and jumped from one intersecting limb to the next, trudging deeper and deeper into the dark side of the rain forest.“The first clue is ‘Dusk of the Eternal’,” Father said. “Your mother explained that there’s a clearing somewhere in the depths of this forest where the orbs emitted by the plant life have generated the same sequence for thousands of years. Twice a year at the time of dusk they reveal the collective image of the location to the ‘Dawn of the First’.”“Did she—” Raiden stopped talking to hoist himself onto a limb that curved upward at a forty-five degree angle. “Did she tell you what ‘Dawn of the First’ meant?”“No, but she did say that if we were unsuccessful here, the ‘Three and Three’ meant that the clues are separated in a sequence of three days, meaning that three days from now, at dawn, the second clue would reveal itself.”Raiden bobbed his head. “And then ‘The Second reveals the Third’ means that the second clue would lead us to a third clue?”“It won’t come to that. We’re putting an end to this now. If we don’t, others may come to learn of Rexus—or worse, about the Transcendence Theory.” Father had mentioned that not even the Serenity Seekers could know about the theory, which would have baffled Raiden if he didn’t already have so many other things on his mind.Hastings disappeared through another wall of crimson leaves in front of them. Raiden didn’t notice until he emerged through them. Even in the dark, Raiden was able to make out the astonishment on Hastings’ face.“Is that it in front of us?” Father asked.Hastings waited for them to cross over the last set of limbs to reach him before saying anything. “I think so. Galen, you should have a look.”“All right then,” Father said casually as he brandished his gunblade and thrust forward a three foot shimmering blue blade. The blade was at beautiful as it was dangerous. To even slide one’s fingers along the edge would make them bleed. Riles tried once. Father never withdrew it in front of him again.Hastings withdrew his as well. Hastings' blade was as green as a forest and, though not as bright and Father’s, it was just as deadly. Not wanting to waste another second, Hastings muttered “It’ll be dusk soon” before trudging back through the wall of leaves.Raiden grabbed for his gunblade and thrust it forward, being extra-careful not to lose his footing and slip over the edge. The dull silver of his blade didn’t capture the light like his father’s, but rather seemed to fit in with the darkness surrounding them.Father grimaced at the sight of his son’s gunblade. Raiden saw Father’s desire to argue his following them through the crimson leaves, but he was left with no time to dissuade Raiden from going. He resigned to saying, “Just stay behind me and you’ll be safe.” Raiden obeyed and kept five paces behind Father. The two followed Hastings through the wall of leaves ahead. Before them were more tree limbs that served as walkways that formed a near-perfect circle four hundred feet in diameter. The limbs seemed to spiral down all the way to the ground and continue up as high as the treetops, which was only letting the slightest hint of Hela in.The glimmering orbs in front of him demanded his attention. The ground must have been littered with thousands of bushes because there were literally millions of lights flickering up towards him. Unlike the lights along the tree stumps, these orbs were all shades of greens and blues and reds and every other hue along the color spectrum that he could imagine. It was so blindingly bright that he found himself distracted from the fact that Rexus would soon be there as well, if he wasn’t already.Raiden tried to make out designs in the lights as they floated up towards the treetops. Father said they’d be sequential, but if there was a pattern that they were meant to reveal, he didn’t see it yet. He wondered what it would portray when Hela finally set. Father pointed upward. “Let’s head to the treetops. We’ll get the best view there and a good vantage point on Rexus.”Hastings turned toward the spiraling tree limbs and led the way upward. Father followed right behind him and Raiden remained in the back. Raiden tried to focus on his footing, but was more concerned with keeping an eye out on what was going on behind him. If Rexus were to show up from below, he would be the easiest target. He eyed the entrance to the clearing as they traveled up fifty feet, and then a hundred more. Rexus could slink through the leaves at any moment. The thought distracted Raiden from being scared of how high up he was. He was as weary about what was happening above him as he had been about what could’ve been happening below. At any moment they’d—“There,” Father pointed toward the center of the room. There, the bushes emitted a new sequence of orbs that shot up toward the canopy. The orbs swirled like rotating pixels. Each floated upward at a different pace coming closer and closer together. The three stopped climbing to see what was rapidly approaching them from below. The orbs in this sequence were mostly earth tones. There were still traces of vibrancy, but colors were predominantly shades of blue, brown, and green. The closer they fluttered together, the more of an image they began to reveal. And then, for the slightest of seconds, all of the orbs came together in perfect unison to form a quick, clear image. It was the portrayal of a landscape from a time long ago; there were six rivers that criss-crossed one another, at one point almost forming a hexagon. Along the edges of them were plains and hills, while the center of the image was of a ground covered in shimmering blue and silver crystals. Amongst all of them, there was one in the very center that seemed to shine the brightest. Amidst what must have been several million orbs, the cluster of that hundred or so was what caught Raiden’s attention the most. Before he had time to think about what he just witnessed, the orbs parted and continued swirling upwards at different speeds, and finally faded before hitting the treetops.“That was Kalia,” Father said. “Not as we know it today, but what it looked like then.”“That cluster in the center,” Raiden muttered.“I saw it too,” Father said.On the other side of Father, Hastings sighed. “If that was the clue, then Rexus missed it.”Raiden felt the blood rush to his face. “Unless he’s already here.”The three stalled in an eerie silence. None of them said anything for a second. Another cluster of orbs was beginning to form below. This time they were bright and in shades of orange, yellow, and red. They flickered upward and engulfed the three men in their blazing bright hues.Crack!Hastings clutched his chest as a flurry of flames shot up from it. “Ackkk!” He screamed in agony, but before he could do anything he was engulfed in a fire that couldn’t have come from the orbs. “Hastings!” Father exclaimed. He attempted to pat the flames off of his partner, but when Raiden got a glimpse of Hastings’ wide-eyded look of horror, he knew that it was too late. Hastings fell from the limbs, completely devoured in flames and vanishing through the next cluster of orbs.Crack!A ball of fire cruised through the flame-colored orbs and headed toward Father. Before Raiden could get a word out, Father flung his blade forward and sliced it in half, disintegrating it.As the orbs passed, Raiden got a look at a man with dark hair and blaring eyes from across the clearing. Even from a distance he could tell that this man was about the size of Father—if not larger. Rexus wore a tattered sepia-colored coat that swayed around his feet. He held his blood-colored gunblade in their direction and shot another fireball from the pistol’s mouth.“Ray—duck!” Father yelled.Raiden knelt down as quickly as he could as a ball of fire sailed overhead and slammed into the leaves behind him. If they were anywhere else in the world the leaves would've gone ablaze, but the trees of the forest had long ago coated themselves with a watery sap that made them fireproof. The whole world could go up in flames and the Malysai rain forest would remain intact.Father bolted around the semicircle of limbs in the direction of Rexus. Rexus rushed toward him with graceful, wide strides. Both men had their gunblades outstretched and met in the middle of the clearing to engage in a flurry of blows. Flashes of red swirled all around Rexus, but Father was just as fast. Father's shimmering blue blade met every one of Rexus’ attacks and countered them.Father’s eyes were wide and desperate as he gripped his blade and Raiden knew immediately that Father was too wary of his presence. I shouldn’t have come. He’s nervous. I’m a distraction.Another series of red, orange and yellow orbs floated towards the treetops. The colors surrounding the men made them appear as if they were two harrowing flames lashing out at one another. Rexus hit the blade with a loud clang but nearly lost his footing when he stood astride the limbs of the helix. Father started swinging at Rexus, coming down on him with heavy, powerful blows. Come on, Father. Come on!Raiden blinked with surprise at how fast Father was. Each swing was graceful and lacked hesitation. He had planned his attacks four or five slashes ahead. He was a giant and his blade was a sharp extension of his arm, pummeling Rexus with blow after mighty blow.Father swung again, but this time Rexus used his might to slam into it with his red blade and Father had to jump back. Rexus swung at Father furiously. His blade resembled a blood-colored viper and struck at Father with a hissing metal tongue. Father’s blue blade hurdled through the sea of flames to block Rexus, but he backed up again keeping an eye on the awkward L-shaped walkway behind him.Raiden clutched his gunblade and ran forward through the clusters of orbs surrounding him. He broke through the patterns and images they portrayed as if he was bursting through liquid canvasses. The orbs flecked away, giving him a clear view of Rexus and his viper-tongued blade. He pointed his gublade toward Rexus and started shooting balls of fire through the plethora of orbs in his direction. Rexus blocked Father’s blows and then spun backward to dodge Raiden’s attacks with ease. He side-stepped past one fireball, and then sliced two more in half without breaking his stride.Father flung his blade at Rexus, who blocked it, then both twisted their blades downward. Rexus pushed down on Father's gunblade and drove it deep into the wood. As the two leaned toward the ground, Raiden rushed them. He leapt diagonally across the L-shaped limbs and landed directly behind the man who threatened his son and fought his father. Rexus flung his blade upwards and swung at Raiden before he could strike. Raiden gasped as the viper’s tongue went to slice through him and blocked it with his dull silver blade. Rexus’ blow felt like it came from a monster, not a man.“Ray!” Father yelled as he shook his gunblade free from the wooden limb below.Rexus swung hard at Raiden again and again. Raiden felt as if he was being attacked with a wall of cement and backed away. He struggled to stay on his feet as the limbs twisted and curved behind him.Father prepared to attack Rexus from behind, but Rexus was ready for it and jumped high into the air, well over Raiden’s head, leaving Father to swipe at nothing. Rexus landed behind Raiden and kicked him in the small of his back. Raiden felt the pain course through his vertebrae and fell forward, tripping over a small branch. He lost his footing and stumbled forward, over the edge. He couldn’t maintain his balance and tilted toward the swirls of colors covering the ground. As he dropped, he felt a strong hand grasping at his leg.Raiden gasped as he watched his gunblade fall into the glowing abyss below. He dangled upside down for second and heard Father’s voice.“Raiden!”Raiden contorted his body to get a glimpse of Father clutching his leg. In that moment, he saw Galen Arias look helpless for the first time in his life. He never thought he would see that expression on the man that walked him through every step of his life. Father’s eyes were bulging and his mouth was wide open, but he was too horrified to utter a sound.Rexus stood over Father like an executioner over a man with his head in a guillotine. He plunged his gunblade through Father’s chest with ease and without hesitation. Before Raiden could scream he felt Father’s grip give way and he went freefalling down through the millions of orbs. The little lights floated upward, concealing the small openings through which the sky could be seen.
There was a groaning sound. It came from him, though he didn’t know how it was possible. He looked around at the orbs that were still floating towards the canopy. He didn’t know how long he’d been out, much less how he had managed to survive a three-hundred-foot fall. He started to move and felt the pillows of leaves give way, dropping him another two or three feet onto the hard surface below.The plants and bushes were so thick that they broke his fall. It was a struggle to see with the overwhelming bright lights surrounding him, but he didn’t feel like he was in a lot of pain. Nothing felt broken, and nothing was numb.Raiden rolled over and got to his feet. He dusted off his maroon-colored shirt and checked for scrapes and scratches. Besides having a few cuts on his forearms, he looked astoundingly fine.“Father!” He gasped.He rushed toward the edges of the clearing and quickly found several tree trunks that, collectively, had a series of tree limbs that joined with others and intertwined. Raiden hugged the tree with the limbs that were closest to the ground and began hoisting himself up, grabbing at whatever small limbs and branches he could find along the way. His forearm started to bleed, but he ignored the pain. He had to get back to where Father was as quickly as he could. He needed to know if he was still alive.He wrapped his arm around closest tree limb that started up the walkway and balanced his body until he was able to comfortably push himself onto it. He rested for a second, then got to his feet. The limbs grew wider and more stable the higher up they went. He started to run up them. The pounding of his feet echoed in the clearing as the orbs in the center flickered upwards with more vibrant colors and designs. He made one full rotation around the spiral, then another, and a third. He was losing his breath, but he didn’t care.He caught a glimpse of Father’s shimmering blue gunblade from across the way and the shadows of a body with a hand dangling over the edge.“No…”Everything fell silent. He didn’t hear his footsteps as he ran toward the motionless figure. He couldn’t feel himself breathe. All he could think of was Father’s helpless expression as he held Raiden by his leg.He reached Father and rolled his lifeless body over. There was a blood stain on his chest where Rexus had stabbed him through the heart, and for a moment all Raiden could think about was one of the last things father said to him. Stay behind me and you’ll be safe.This is my fault. This is my doing. I should have stayed behind. It would have been Rexus lying here, dead, not you…His vision become blurry amidst a sea of tears. He no longer knew what to do, or even how to get back to his shuttle. He was completely lost, like a young child who had lost the grip of a mother’s hand amidst a roaring crowd. He hadn’t known a life without Father. They had always been together. He was the constant. He was supposed to always be the constant. But now....The lights were reflected off of Father’s gunblade, drawing Raiden’s attention away from his Father. He thought for a second, and then knew what he had to do. He grabbed Father’s gunblade, retracted it, and placed it in his holster. “No one threatens my son and lives,” Raiden told himself through lips dampened by streams of tears. “No one…”

"World of Dusk: The Desperate" Author Commentary

As a storm outside reshapes the landscape around them, the two people that hold close the longest kept secrets of the world are worried that their recent guest, Rexus Poloray, is there to learn of what he cannot. 

Author Anthony Greer gives his commentary about the latest installment of the World of Dusk series, and the inciting incident that kicks of The Raven of Dusk: Transcendence.

To read the short story, click here: http://anthony-greer.blogspot.com/201...

To read previous entries, go to: www.anthony-greer.blogspot.com

World of Dusk: The Desperate

World of Dusk:“The Desperate”

Anthony Greer



“World of Dusk: The Wedding” is one of several origin stories that all tie into “The Raven of Dusk” and its respective titles. “The Raven of Dusk” is a series that stands on its own, while the “World of Dusk” is meant to exist as a series of backstories and pivotal events that occur in the world of Noreis. Some of these stories will be mentioned in the series, while others will exist only in the “World of Dusk” origins. I hope you enjoy.
To read book one in the series: “The Raven of Dusk: Transcendence” click here





World of Dusk: The Desperate
The winds altered the landscape surrounding the Desert Settlement that evening. Rowena had to cover her mouth and nose with her wavy brown robes as she navigated through the maze of huts that existed long before the skyscrapers of any of the city-states were erected. Most of the earliest humans either moved or lived in this settlement which, after thousands of years, contained only a little more than a hundred or two hundred huts in all.
The Elder’s Temple stood in the center of the settlement. The Temple was a large pyramid structure what dwarfed the huts in size and was made of solid crystal. It looked as though it belonged in the city-state of Kalia, and that was exactly why this building was erected the way it was. The secrets born in Ancient Kalia were taken to the other side of the world and kept in the Elder’s Temple. Some of these secrets were left for only Elder Bowii and Rowena to know. Others weren’t even entrusted with the Elder.
A circle of large crystal spires three-to-four times her height surrounded the temple. The gaps between the spires were easy to slip between, and the Temple guards stepped aside as she approached. They could tell it was Rowena just by looking at her striking eyes and the wisps of blonde hair that escaped through the hood of her robes. The whistles of the wind were cut short when the doors were closed behind her, she threw her hood back and let herself breathe the clean air while letting the rest of her hair escape.
Crystal pebbles tickled the bottoms of her feet while she cast her eyes around the torch lit room at the statues of Mashinian creatures all around. Hovering above a crackling fire in the Temple’s center was the statue of Ormyra, the Mashinian Queen. Rowena exchanged glances with the stone figure for a moment, then walked across the empty temple over to the stairs that led up to the Elder’s chambers. Halfway up, the temple entrance opened and closed behind her. When Rowena saw who’d just walked in, she slowly walked back down the steps.
“I figured you’d be looking for me,” Elder Bowii, a man of sixty, with a pair of the most youthful eyes Rowena had ever seen, said as he met her in the middle of the room.
“We have to talk about this,” Rowena replied. The two stood by one another; half of their faces were glowing in the bonfire’s flames. “He is beginning to make some of the others very nervous. He’s been asking questions about… he’s asking them things that only I can answer.”
“I’ve already reached an agreement with them: we cannot show him the Projection of the Past,” the Elder said. “It is and it always has been meant only for those that grew up here. Rexus Poloray might know as much about the first race and the Transcendence Theory as any other resident in this settlement, but he’s come to us as a scholar of Mashinian and Ancient Kalian culture. This settlement, and our positions within it, cannot be compromised by giving him further knowledge about either.”Rowena nodded aggressively. “He already knows much too much! ‘The Finality’ is not something that should be in any text or taught somewhere beyond our sands. If they’re teaching that in schools now, then someone from here has broken the oath.”
“That is highly implausible. Everyone that’s seen the projection also knows of its importance. To talk about ‘The Finality’ or the Transcendence Theory—”
“And yet he knows of both,” Rowena crossed her arms and looked upon Elder Bowii as if the escaped knowledge was his fault. “This is precisely what our settlement has been worried about ever since we learned of the fate of the Mashinians. Transcendence was attempted once and look at what’s happened! All that remains is a memorial in Kalia and the knowledge that we’ve collected in its wake. No one can know of the Transcendence Theory beyond those who know already.”
“Yes,” Elder Bowii said with a slight smirk. “The only one who actually knows.”
Her blonde hair was beginning to look white and gray in the fire’s light, and wrinkles that were usually absent from her face formed lines that weren’t there before. “I’m starting to think that I should leave this place.”
“Don’t be rash. We don’t know much about this man yet.”
“We know enough!” Rowena let out a sigh along with her steam. “We know that he’s curious and that he knows more than he should. We also know the precautions that we need to take any time we feel that our information is being threatened.”
“I will talk to him,” the Elder replied, aging just as quickly as Rowena seemed to have been. “If I don’t like what I hear, then I would be in agreement with you. I think that if you fled to Kilelick Falls now, Mr. Poloray would only grow more inquisitive.”
Rowena shrugged. “He could be as curious as he wishes then. It wouldn’t matter.”
“It would though,” the Elder said, looking upon Rowena like a father would a daughter. Given that most of the settlement’s inhabitants were married with children by the time they were sixteen, they could have very easily been father and daughter, if arrangements were different. “You cannot hide there forever. There are only so many resources that you can fit into an air shuttle to take with you.”
“Fine,” she said sharply. “Talk to him, then. Figure out his intentions and let me know if I have reason to worry. I’ll wait in your office until you do.”
The Elder cocked his head. It wasn’t like Rowena to dole out orders—especially since Elder Bowii was the leader of the settlement. Rexus Poloray must have made her really nervous if she was demanding that he speak with him now. She must’ve pondered Poloray’s intentions for quite some time before addressing him.
The two diverged with Rowena going to the Elder’s office and Elder Bowii returning outside. Both of them knew that it was going to be a long night.


Rexus Poloray was easy to find in the storm that night. Elder Bowii knew that there was very little chance that he would be outside or visiting one of the other residents of the settlement. He rubbed many of them the wrong way with the amount of knowledge he acquired before even setting foot in their community.
Rexus spent that evening in the guest hut that he paid for in goods and supplies during the month that he determined he’d spend in the settlement. Several books on the history of the Desert Settlement and the Mashinian race were stacked atop of one another on the coffee table. He was nose deep in another one on the couch when Elder Bowii walked in. The settlement’s guest put the text down and rose to his feet in the presence of the Elder, then bowed as if the leader of the settlement was a monarch and not just the leader of a couple hundred people.
“It’s quite a storm out there,” Rexus said, scratching his short brown hair while he stood a head taller than the Elder. “The worst I’ve seen since I’ve been here.”
Elder Bowii nodded, but had no interest in small talk. Rowena wanted an answer from him as soon as possible. She was rarely authoritative, and he wasn’t keen on disappointing her.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look so serious,” Rexus said. “What do you wish to say to me?”
“We need to know why you’re here.”
“We?” Rexus slipped around the coffee table between them and approached the elder with a more aggressive look on his face than Rowena gave him.
The twinkle in Elder Bowii’s eyes dimmed in Rexus’ shadow. When he spoke, he did so with a stern voice that emphasized each word very slowly. “You’ve come here with a purpose. You wouldn’t have acquired the knowledge you did beforehand if you didn’t have one, and I’ve no doubt that you’ve learned that there are secrets here that you cannot unlock anywhere else in the world—and that is for good reason, I assure you.”
“I agree,” Rexus replied. “Unfortunately, I’m in need of those secrets now.”
The Elder crossed his arms defiantly, feeling as though he turned to stone. There would be no way for Rexus Poloray to get the information he claimed to need. Rexus should’ve known that only Rowena had such information anyway, so harming the settlement’s Elder in any way wouldn’t be any sort of solution for their enigmatic visitor.
A wave of gray floated onto Rexus’ face. His eyes shrunk in a somberness that overcame his size and solemnity. It wasn’t Rexus’ intention to harm the Elder, whether Elder Bowii believed it going into the guest hut or not. “I have come here because I have run out of places to turn. I am in need of your help, but there is only so much I can tell you.”
“I cannot be of service to you if I do not know what ails you.”
“It is not me who is ailed.”
Elder Bowii thought to respond, but stopped himself and let Rexus go on.
“There is someone very dear to me that is hurting. I acquired information about an order of people that can help, but I haven’t been able to find anything on them besides what my source has already told me. Unfortunately, he refuses to say anymore on the matter, and I can no longer communicate with him.”
The Elder absorbed Rexus’ words. “The only information that we have here can be read in those books or told to you by the members of this settlement.”
“Yes, because they’ve been ever-so-helpful. From the moment I set foot here all of you have given me the same pensive and wary stare. You’re wearing it on your face even now! Deep inside, you are questioning the real reasons for why I’ve come but you’re scared to say something that you’ve been taught to conceal. I am the outlier in your land of order or community, and none of you have been nearly as welcoming as I was led to believe.”
The Elder knew that he couldn’t show Rexus weakness. He crossed his arms over his chest in a combination of defiance and defensiveness, and forced himself to alter his expression so that he didn’t appear how Rexus told him he looked.
“Don’t bother to pretend otherwise now. I have no tolerance for people who aren’t being themselves. The stares that all of you give me are the same looks that I’ve received my whole life. I got them as a child in class because of the rags that I wore and because the slums that I lived in didn’t have showers. I had to bathe in the public fountains and pools, and was often ridiculed by others and taken out by authority figures who told me that I was ‘offending the public’,” he said with air quotes. “I can tell you what is really offensive—the constant disregard and ignorance of those that have nothing and are continuously put down when they try to better themselves. Only two people in my life have ever cared about me. One of them abandoned me when I was very young to pursue a better situation for herself. The other…
“Your stares; your looks of disgust and indignation are meaningless to me. I couldn’t give two shits about bothering you or anyone else with the inconvenience of asking questions that I want the answers for. I’ve been staring into the dead eyes and pursed lips of those that despise me my whole life. I will not see the same look in her eyes. I will not tolerate being kept at a distance again for something that’s not in my control. You people—your settlement—can help me, and all I’ve gotten thus far were weeks’ worth of uncomfortable stares and empty words. I’m through with it. It is time that I get my answers, and its times that you give them to me.”
“To which answers are you referring?” Elder Bowii asked, fighting a furious battle with the muscles in his face to avoid giving Rexus the same look he’d just gone on a diatribe about. “You’ve yet to ask me what you want to know, or even why you wish to ask it. Who is this woman that you speak of? Is it a loved one—a lover, perhaps? And who told you to come here of all places? We are not in the business of remedies.”
“But you are in the business of the Transcendence Theory.”
“Everything we know is in those books,” Elder Bowii shot back. “They have been for thousands of years.”
Rexus shook his head nonchalantly. “That is woefully untrue. I know of the projection that you will not show me. I don’t know the full story, but I have an idea that it would fill in some of the blanks.”Elder Bowii took another long moment before speaking. He was surprised that Rexus didn’t fill the silence with more frustration. Despite his scathing tone, the settlement’s visitor remained composed and quietly waiting for the Elder to reply. “Whatever information there is to acquire in the projection, that we have never shown another soul aside from those that were born and raised in this settlement, will not help you learn of the Transcendence Theory. The Theory represents exactly what we in this settlement’s residents are meant to remain cautious about. We cannot allow what happened before to happen again. The Transcendence Theory can never be attempted. The results would alter the entire world and make the years of the blackened skies look like a couple of billowy white clouds floating by in the distance. Even if this person you speak of is ill and the Transcendence Theory can somehow help—which has nothing to do with curing one’s illness, the risk of achieving Transcendence is not worth the bettering of one’s life.”
The Elder expected Rexus to show frustration, but their guest remained eerily calm. His stillness was more intimidating than if their visitor had actually attempted to be menacing towards him. He wondered if Rexus knew that he was putting him on edge. Was this all a mind game for him?The blowing wind was louder than either of the men for a moment. They could hear the sand splashing across the hut’s walls like millions of tiny pellets coating the exterior while continuing its cyclonic movement. If this storm continued, it would no longer be safe to step outside. Elder Bowii couldn’t imagine someone he’d prefer to be stuck with less than Rexus Poloray until the storm subsided.
Rexus waited until the whistling died down for a moment to respond. Melancholy overcame his eyes, burying his anger and frustration deep behind them. “I am a human who has only felt humanity twice in my life. One is lost to me, and the other is sick. If I lose the last person in this world who has shown my kindness, I may also lose my last shred of humanity. Can you imagine what thirty-two years of boundless disappoint does to somebody? I am here because I am desperate. I know very little of this theory, but I know that there are those who can use it to help. In order for me to receive that help, I need to know whatever you can tell me.”
Rexus was met with a prolonged stare and an arched eyebrow from the Elder. “Who are these people?”
The Elder waited for Rexus to reply. While the visitor struggled to figure out what he could tell him, he saw more humanity in that man than he’d seen from him from the moment he approached them about the Theory. “I only know of one by name: Jaiden Lefendos.”
“I have never heard of him.” It was a quick response, but also the truth.
Rexus frowned. “It is possible that someone here might?”
“No. I have lived here for all of my sixty years. Never once have I stepped beyond these dunes, and I have met every soul that has passed through here. Again, the Transcendence Theory will not help your loved one. Whoever told you otherwise is either mistaken, or wants you to learn of it for their own benefit. I pray for you and all of Noreis that it’s the former rather than the latter, because if someone is looking to achieve Transcendence, it is not to make the world a better place.”
Rexus was shaking his head the entire time. “If you will not tell me the truth, then I will have to find out some other way.”
As dangerous as the storm outside was becoming, the Elder preferred to weather it and rush back to the safety of the temple rather than stay with this man a second longer. “There is no other way.” The Elder turned around and started walking towards the door.
“Be careful out there,” Rexus snarled as the Elder reached for the handle. “The storm is only going to get worse.”


The dust storm forced the Elder to cover everything but his eyes as he squinted to find the direction of the temple. Through the cyclonic winds that blew stands on their sides and turned huts into dust mounds, he found the outer circle of spires that were threatened to be ripped from their bases several feet beneath the sand. The tiny settlement that he spent all of his days in was barely recognizable in the whirls of sand and bright bolts of thunder and lightning from above. The sounds they made were louder than if air shuttles were to collide at full speed.
With each step the sand tried to envelope his feet as it swirled about, threatened to trap him like quicksand if he didn’t move quickly. He closed his eyes as much as he could and trudged forward, catching glimpses of the spires and the temple beyond every time the sky grew bright and roared. He clenched his lips shut in fear of choking on the grains and held his breath to avoid inhaling it. The wind did its best to blow him sideways, but he kept pushing forward, using the spires as markers and fighting the gusts whenever he could. 
By the time the sky exploded again, he moved between two of the spires and was suddenly grateful to know that the temple was just twenty or so feet away. He was closer to it than Rexus’ hut. He quickened his pace without worry and, as the thunder clamored and the lightning brightened again, he was able to see the double-doors to the temple in view. The guards left their post for the evening, but that was to be expected. There would be no more visitors tonight.
The Elder felt five years younger when he reached the handles and focused all of his strength on trying to open one of them against the wind as it threatened to tackle him to the floor. Rexus was right: the storm was only getting worse. As he struggled, he envisioned himself being knocked to the ground and covered with several feet of dirt in a matter of seconds. He could dig and dig as furiously as he could, but there would be no emerging from a sandy grave. He threw open the door and rushed inside before that vision could ring true. The wind slammed the door shut right after, trapping him inside the temple until the storm subsided.
Inside the thick crystal walls, the wind was muffled to the point where he could barely hear the storm at all. The fire pit in the center, the Mashinian statues, the ground, the walls, and everything in-between remained unscathed. The Elder threw the hood of his robes back and several layers of sands coated the floor. He spat out the grains that forced their way into his mouth and picked his nose until he could breathe clearly again. He felt that it would be days before he got all of the sand out of his crevasses, but at least he was no longer trapped with Rexus Poloray. He could weather the rest of the storm in peace.
Or so he thought.
Rowena emerged from his chambers and stood at the top of the stairs with her arms crossed, looking just as frustrated as she had before. “What have you to tell me?”
Elder Bowii crossed the temple as more sand continued to fall from his robes, leaving an easy trail for anyone to find him. He reached the base of the stairs and Rowena turned around, stepping back into his chambers. He followed her inside and shut the door behind them.
She stood on the other side of his desk with lips as tight as his had been during his journey back to the temple. He ignored her expression until he sat back in his chair and allowed the cushions to absorb his suddenly exasperated body. He let out a long, deep breath, and envisioned himself getting buried in the storm again.
Rowena wasn’t about to let him feel grateful for long. “Do I need to leave for Kilelick Falls or not?”
The Elder shook his head, then pondered nodding. “He was very cryptic. Someone, I’m assuming a woman that he loves, has fallen ill. He was told by a source—he wouldn’t say whom—that the Transcendence Theory can help her, but that doesn’t make any sense. There’s nothing about the Theory or ‘The Finality’ that would be even remotely helpful, and given that he’s a scholar of Ancient Kalian and the Mashinian race, he should know that.”
“So he made up a bullshit story to make you feel sorry for him?” Rowena asked. “It makes sense. You are a softy.”
“Yes, but you would think that someone as smart as Rexus would concoct a more believable story if he was looking to fool us. He might not know as much as we’re led to believe.”
“That’s good.”
“But someone does.”
Rowena scoffed. “What does that mean? Should I head to Kilelick Falls or not?”
“I don’t know,” the Elder replied. “It’s complicated… if he told me the full truth just now, then someone has reached out to him and is trying to get information about the Transcendence Theory. My guess is that they would want it in exchange for information about whatever sickness this woman has.”
“None of that makes any sense,” Rowena barked. “If she’s sick, she can see a doctor. The Transcendence Theory can only do harm, and everything you’ve told me is speculative. I think he was just sending you in circles. I’m going to head to the Falls.”
“There’s a little more,” the Elder said before Rowena could storm out and try her luck with the tumultuous winds. “He didn’t tell me the name of his source, but he did mention that a group of people might be able to help this woman. One of them is a man named Jaiden Lefendos. Have… have you ever heard of him?”
Rowena’s bottom lip parted from the top one. Her jaw didn’t drop, but there was something about that last bit of information that caught her off-guard. It might have pertained to the scraps of knowledge that the Conservators of the Mashinian secrets passed down to one another that were kept from even the settlement Elders.
“Is that at all helpful?” Elder Bowii asked, hoping that she would answer him.
“Maybe,” she muttered. “A group of people that might be looking to achieve the Transcendence Theory… you don’t think that he could be referring to…”
Elder Bowii cocked his head. “To what?”
“Nothing,” Rowena replied immediately. “I am sorry, I was just recalling a myth in my head. It’s nothing important, just a story that was passed down to me—more of an urban legend, really.”
Elder Bowii was commonly a jolly man, free of woes or frustration. However, between Rexus’ enigmatic words, Rowena’s foul disposition, and risking his life to return to his temple, his patience was waning. “If it’s an urban legend, then you can tell me what is going on.”
Rowena paused, pondering whether or not she could speak to him about things that were never to be told to anyone (or at least so he assumed). “There are rumors about a group of people—an order that is similar to ours, but doing the exact opposite. While we long to prevent knowledge of the Transcendence Theory from spreading, they’re actively looking to achieve it. If someone reached out to Rexus Poloray and asked him to go looking for it in exchange for something in return, then… no. No, no way,” she said defiantly. “The story is thousands of years old. If this order ever existed, they are extinct now.”
“Do you really—”
“Rexus was deceiving you,” she said, looking more certain than ever. “All of this was a ruse in order for you feel bad enough for him that you would try and convince the others to let him see the projection of the past. Whatever reasons he has, its best that he leave us—and more importantly, it’s for the best that I leave, too. Thank you for the information you’ve given me. I think it’s time that I go to Kilelick Falls.”
“Tonight?! In this weather?”
Rowena looked him in the eyes and nodded slowly. “Someone is either playing a trick on him, or he is playing a trick on you. Either way he is desperate and desperate men do desperate things. I am safer flying out in that storm tonight than I am if we wait to see which of those possibilities is the true one.”
Elder Bowii watched as Rowena left quickly without saying another word. As the door to his chambers shut, he was able to hear the storm continue to roar on. It was the worst storm the settlement had in months, but in light of Rowena’s words, it was also the least of his concerns.


Rowena spat out the sand she’d swallowed while fighting with her front door in the storm. It took all of her strength to open it and, when she was inside, it slammed shut behind her and rattled the entire hut. She wiped the rest of her sand off of her face with her brown sleeve, but she knew that she’d be shooting it out of her nostrils for many days to come. She pulled her hood back, where her hair was mostly concealed and avoided getting mounds of sand stuck in it—to which she was very grateful. The last time they had a storm of this magnitude, she was washing it out of her hair for a week!
She slipped out of her robes, wearing a dress of the same color underneath and placed a hand on each hip. If she was to leave, she needed to pack everything she had. Rexus wouldn’t expect her to leave in the middle of the storm. Only a crazy person would. Crazy, or desperate.
Rowena should have started by packing her meats, breads, and clothes. Her air shuttle was only so big and she needed to pack necessities first. The Conservator’s heart, however, thought differently. The first time she’d ever gone to Kilelick Falls on her own, she made extra copies of the photos and video images of her family—the family that left her long before when she and her husband realized that they were meant for different things. The pictures of him and their son, and then pictures of them and her grandson in their homes, the Tri-City forest, and wherever they went together, remained in a box beneath her bed. She once thought to leave them in the Falls, but she never did. Personal belongings were never meant to stay there.
She entered her bedroom, where a silhouette was waiting for her. Rowena tried to scream, but the figure was quick and leapt through the shadows like a demon and clutched her mouth shut as the back of her head slammed against the wall.
“I’ve spent thirty-two years struggling to find my path, and another twelve trying to understand what happened to her,” the man scathed as he towered over her. She could see nothing but his deep, intense eyes and the large hand blocking her mouth from making a sound. He continued to speak calmly, but sternly. “I had a feeling that Elder Bowii didn’t know everything. He hides his secrets in his eyes and I peered through them so determined to find something that I reached the back of his skull and found a lack of answers. But you… you just told me everything I needed to know.”
Rexus withdrew his telecom. The 4x4 inch screen cast an eerie white glow in the room and gently graced his face like a thumbnail of the moon. In the center was a control screen with a large red button. He pressed it, and Rowena’s face paled to the same color as the screen.
“I am sorry,” she heard herself say, “I was just recalling a myth in my head. It’s nothing important, just a story that was passed down to me—more of an urban legend, really.”
He bugged the Elder’s Temple…
Elder Bowii replied. “If it’s an urban legend, then you can tell me what is going on.”
“There are rumors about a group of people—an order that is similar to ours, but doing the exact opposite. While we long to prevent knowledge of the Transcendence Theory from spreading, they’re actively looking to achieve it. If someone reached out to Rexus Poloray and asked him to go looking for it in exchange for something in return, then… no. No, no way. The story is thousands of years old. If this order ever existed, they are extinct now.”
Rexus clicked off the telecom and the room went dark again. “You know about the Ravens of Dusk. I wasn’t certain until you told me yourself. I’m surprised that you even let that much slip about them to the Elder.”
Rowena grumbled through his hand. She tried to speak, but his hand was pressed so hard against her mouth that she felt her lips merging with her teeth.
“You can scream all you wish,” Rexus flashed his teeth with a sinister grin. “No one will hear you in this storm.”
Rexus was probably surprised when she didn’t attempt to call for help when his hand left her lips. Instead, she kept her calm and stared into his dark eyes surrounded in an abyss. “How do you know about the Ravens of Dusk? Who is Jaiden Lefendos?”
“I figured that you would know less about their order than I.” He sighed and placed a hand in his robes, putting away his telecom and playing with something else. “But that’s fine. I don’t need information about the Ravens of Dusk. I just need to know about the Transcendence Theory.”A flash of silver flew from his pocket and rushed toward her neck, stopping right at her jugular, tickling her with the sharpness of the blade. She had to hold in her breath so that the knife wouldn’t dig into her skin.
“If I kill you now, there will never be another person to conserve the Mashinian secrets. Only one at a time… you are the only person to know the secret entrance to Kilelick Falls, and everything that is meant to be confined from the rest of the world may only be known by those of the Ravens of Dusk.”“You can kill me now then,” she replied with every ounce of courage she could muster. “Because I will never tell you about the Transcendence Theory.”
His head cocked and his grin widened in the darkness. “This blade isn’t meant for you.”
In an instance, the entire world fell silent. The winds stopped whistling, her heart stopped beating, and her breath bottlenecked in her throat and refused to escape her lips. She thought she was about to pass out before he even elaborated on his statement.
“I’ve learned in the last few years or so that everyone has a way of talking. You are too strong of a woman to not sacrifice yourself, but would you sacrifice the life of your grandson, little Riles Arias, in order to keep the Transcendence Theory a secret?”
“You… Don’t you dare—”
“Riles Arias of thirty-two Daven Way in Malysai would just be the beginning of the pain that I would inflict upon your family. See, I wouldn’t kill him right now. He would just disappear into the nothingness that I’ve lived in my whole life. I would take videos of him being tortured and you would never know from where. Then the rest of you will start getting pieces of him in the mail. A finger here, a toe there… I’ll send you his eyes so that you can look upon them and recall the moment that you refused to tell me what I desperately need to know. This is what happens when a man has nothing left to lose; he no longer gives a shit about anyone else, because even at eight that boy has lived a much fuller and happier life than I can even fathom. Too bad all he’ll remember of it is the pain of this knife pressed against his scrawny little neck, and then all you or your ex-husband and son will ever be able to remember is the screaming…”
Her tears made it harder to see the smirk on his face, but she could feel the hate radiating from him like the heat of a million Helas. There was nothing in his tone that gave her any indication that he wouldn’t do everything that he said he would.
“I could make it go on for months… and if that’s not convincing enough, I’ll move on to the next person you love the most. And then the next… I will make you regret ever learning the secrets you refuse to tell me until I then take this knife and do the same to you. So, Conservator, what will it be? Are you ready to let your whole family die for your secrets, or will you help a man who has desperately needed it, but not as much as another needs mine?”
The words were caught in her throat. She wasn’t sure how much time passed by or if she was bleeding, or sweating, or crying, or a combination of the three. All she knew was that, at some point in the delirium and the desperation, her lips started moving, and Rexus Poloray followed her every word…



To read book one in the series: “The Raven of Dusk: Transcendence” click here

"The Ring" Anthony's Commentary

Here's my commentary for "The Ring", short story #4 or 6 in the World of Dusk anthology!

World of Dusk: The Ring

 
World of Dusk:“The Ring”

Anthony Greer

© 2015, Anthony Greer. AG Creative Publications

All rights reserved.No portion of this book may be used without sole permission of the copyright holder except in use of a review.
“World of Dusk: The Wedding” is one of several origin stories that all tie into “The Raven of Dusk” and its respective titles. “The Raven of Dusk” is a series that stands on its own, while the “World of Dusk” is meant to exist as a series of backstories and pivotal events that occur in the world of Noreis. Some of these stories will be mentioned in the series, while others will exist only in the “World of Dusk” origins. I hope you enjoy.
To read book one in the series: “The Raven of Dusk: Transcendence” click here




World of Dusk: The Ring
The giggling was what finally brought Marquez back to consciousness. He woke up to two sets of breasts on each side of his bare chest while two hands played with his pink nipples. The other hand from both women slid down his torso and beneath the thin sheets that did little to cover up the three of them. He laid back in a foreign bed and pretended to remain asleep, intrigued by how far the two models from his shoot would go while believing him to be unconscious.
“Oh, someone’s awake,” the blonde one said to the brunette, her hand firmly on his erection.
The brunette let out a giggle and began to lick the tip of his nipple as her hair cascaded around her face, tickling his chest. He kept his eyes shut firmly and focused only on the feel of her tongue sliding down his stomach, his loins, and then finally around his cock while the blonde grasped it for her. If either of them glanced up at his face, as they played with him, they would have noticed how much he struggled not to smile.
He woke up again sometime after with one arm wrapped around each of them. He would have loved to have gotten the same treatment as before, but it wasn’t giggles from two bare-skinned women that woke him this time. It was the emergency ring on his telecom buzzing furiously somewhere in his pants pocket.
The brunette (whatever her name was) mumbled something indistinctly, but neither of them was trained to jump at the sound like Marquez was. He slid one arm out at a time, doing as little as he could to disturb them in their slumber, then slid like a caterpillar to the foot of the bed before sitting up and leaping off of it.
Whoever was calling stopped the moment he rifled through his pants to grab his telecom. He grimaced when he saw that it was a call from Father. When he noticed the time, his heart nearly sunk from his chest to his feet. The two women he’d gone home with occupied his time all the way into the late afternoon. All of the pleasure he just enjoyed was eclipsed by the shade of disappointment that was certainly on his father’s face.
He slipped his pants on right away and then scoped the ground for his shirt. His briefs were probably on the bed somewhere, so he didn’t bother sifting between the sheets and the women for them. One of them could keep them as a souvenir. Not everyone got bedded by Marquez Donnick. Granted, that was largely because of the plethora of women in Noreis, but that was beside the point.
Clothed enough to get by, Marquez cracked open the loudly creaking door and did his best to slip out through the slivers of light Hela emitted on the streets of Cardeau. He didn’t think to glance at a mirror before stepping out into the world, but he was certain he looked just fine. He was Marquez Donnick, after all.
Cardeau’s citizens paid him little attention as they walked down the sand-dusted streets. Several stands were lined up on the corners while a few shuttles flew overhead. Hela shined brightly in the cloudless sky while buildings of wood and stone made up all of the blocks that were within his sight. None of them were more than three or four stories tall, but they were all high enough to obscure his view of Cardeau Palace, wherever it was. He couldn’t even see his air shuttle from where he stood—assuming that they took his back to one of the women’s homes.
He wandered down a block, hoping to get a view of the palace at the intersection. A vendor’s display of magazines caught his eye and made him smile. The week’s issue of “Stunning” was still prominently on the stand, boasting a shirtless picture of him mid-flex with the words “Sexiest man alive?” beneath. The magazine was scrutinized all week after the issue was released, since Marquez was technically still a year off from being considered a “man.” Despite that, it was the highest selling issue that quarter and, in the days that followed, he received offers from two other publications and a newscast. Father didn’t approve, but that was nothing new. Marquez spent seventeen years being told what he should be doing with his life, and every time his father droned on about the Donnick family legacy, Marquez’s mind would wander to other things—almost always women. That got him in trouble a lot, but probably not to the degree that awaited him at the palace.
His air shuttle was parked a half block further down. While he still couldn’t see Cardeau Palace, as soon as he hovered above the other buildings, it would be easy to spot and then he’d be home in no time. He unlocked it and stepped inside. Marquez checked himself through the reflection of the glass dome before starting it, abruptly distracted by the cacophonous buzzing of his emergency line for the second time.
“Ugh, I’ll be right there, father,” he scoffed without answering the call. He turned the shuttle on and hovered off of the ground, raising it steadily in case there were other air shuttles blazing by without paying any attention.
Hela’s gleam pierced the shuttle’s glass dome and lit up the east side of the enormous Cardeau Palace, which stood nearly a hundred feet higher than any of the surrounding buildings. The palace shimmered in cyan and silver, much like nearly half of the structures in the city-state. The four outer walls of the palace were made of glass, revealing the first layer of activity within. Several towers emerged from the edges of the palace, shooting several hundred more feet into the air and almost kissing the clouds on days when the weather was less desirable.
He sped toward the palace. As the structure grew larger and swallowed his other surroundings, his anxiety rose, fully knowing the scrutiny he was about to endure for missing the final meeting for the charity ball. Father was apprehensive enough about giving Marquez this type of responsibility. What little trust his father might’ve had in him may be broken now. As he entered the third floor hangar bay, his anxiety transformed into guilt.
Marquez parked in his usual lot and stepped onto the hangar floor, which connected the outside to the outer halls and the air lifts. He walked to the entrance of the bay as a familiar face emerged from it. Sir Milo, a knight of the Guard and his best friend, gave him a wary smile as they crossed paths in the threshold.
“I know,” Marquez said. “You don’t even have to say it.”
“The captain is livid,” Milo replied as though Marquez’s father had just yelled at him. “Good luck in there.”
“When are you off duty? Want to get drinks after?”
“If you’re more than a flayed carcass by dinnertime, sure.” Milo kept walking toward his shuttle. His metal armor clanked on the cold ground and began to shimmer in the light of Hela peering inside the hangar. The knight had to shield his eyes in order to find his shuttle, and he didn’t once turn back to his friend.
Milo did nothing to instill confidence in Marquez. He knew that father was going to be angry, but if even Milo was scurrying away from him, this must have been bad. Marquez continued on into the depths of the palace where the silvers and blues covered everything in sight. He was able to tell which rooms he was in solely based on the other colors within them, since they were so seldom used inside Cardeau Palace. He thought about taking the long way toward Father’s quarters, but he knew that wouldn’t be wise. Father would only get angrier with him the longer it took for him to receive his punishment for missing the meeting.
“Are you looking for the captain?” Dame Harraway asked him as he reached the Knight’s Quarters. She had to move some of the bangs from her bowl cut to see him clearly. She was taller than most, but at six feet, Marquez matched her in height.
Marquez nodded while Harraway stood like a statue with her arms crossed over her chest, single-handedly guarding the corridor that really didn’t need protecting.
“He’s currently with the Queen.”
That brought some relief to Marquez’s face. “Oh good, I’ll catch him when he returns.”
“The captain specifically told me to send you his way when you returned to the palace, even if he’s meeting with Kallisto.”
“Wonderful.” They can both sneer at me, then.
“Good luck,” Dame Harraway said as stalely as hardened bread. It was the most emotion he’d ever seen from her. He really was in deep shit.
Marquez left the knight’s quarters and walked towards the Queen’s Chambers with his head down. Palace guests, servants, and knights stepped away from him as though he’d contracted the worms. Not even his own friends dared to address him. He felt all of the guilt that was going to be bestowed upon him before even reaching his father, then as he reached the floor to Kallisto’s chambers, he thought about things in a different shade.
I missed a meeting. It’s not like I killed anyone. Why should he be so damned disappointed with me over something so minor? He knows who I am and what I do. I’m Marquez Donnick, dammit!
The set of guards between him and the chambers stepped aside when he approached. Unlike Dame Harraway, they dwarfed him in size and their biceps threatened to break through their chain mail confinements. As intimidating as they were, they were nothing compared to what was on the other side of the opening double-doors.
“Marquez,” Koston shot him a scathing look from Kallisto’s work table. He sat across from the queen with a decanter set between them. She was pouring another glass while he kept a jug of water close by. The blackout curtains lined several windows of her room, casting half of it in shadow and highlighting the portion where she and Koston sat.
Koston’s silver vest was just a shade darker than the tiles of the room. His dirty blonde hair was highlighted in Hela’s gleam through the unblocked floor-to-ceiling windows that revealed most of the city beyond them. His lips were tight and his eyes narrowed on his son so intensely that Marquez could barely bring himself to look elsewhere in the room.
“Do you wish to talk to him in private?” Kallisto asked. She swirled the contents of her glass while sitting on a small throne in a white and black dress and bearing a dark circlet with white leaves on her head.
Koston didn’t even acknowledge her as he rose to his feet and drew Marquez closer as if he had telekinetic eyes. “We’ve been planning tomorrow’s fundraiser for months. I’ve purposely walked you through every part of the process because this is something you might actually be passionate about that would do the world some good. You’ve done nothing to prove that you even give a shit about this event. You wanted to take the reins on the Donnick Foundation and yet I’m still doing everything! All I asked yesterday was that you show up to our final meeting with the rest of the staff. You didn’t even have to say a damn word, because obviously all of the responsibility is going to fall to me anyway. I ask very little of you, and you can’t even give me that? What in Noreis is wrong with you?”
“All right, I guess this is happening right here,” Kallisto said to herself between sips.
Each word father spoke felt like a paper cut on his body. Marquez half-expected to see blood marks soak through on his perfectly-fitted tunic. Yet, he could not muster a reply.
“Are you even going to show up tomorrow? Do you even care?”
“Yes, I care—”
“Then where were you? We heard nothing from you for nearly a full day,” Koston said. “I was this close to contacting the Seekers to go looking for you.”
“I was—”
“Ugh, you don’t have to explain,” Kallisto sneered. “I can smell your shame and regret from over here.”
Marquez felt himself shrinking on the tiled floor while Koston could only shake his head in dismay.“And to think,” Koston said, rotating a ring with an opal stone on his middle finger. “I was going to give you this today.”
“The family ring?” Marquez muttered.
Koston nodded and scowled at the same time.
The Donnick family ring was quickly becoming engraved in Cardeau’s history. Marquez’s great-great-grandfather, Baltus, gave it to his great-grandfather, Abraham, upon his graduating from the Barencos Advisory Academy. Back then, the Donnicks were a poor family, and Abraham knew that stone with the word ‘Donnick’ engraved in its center likely cost Baltus half a year’s salary. Abraham wore it as a reminder that anyone can have valuable things and achieve greatness if they tried hard enough. According to the story, Baltus told Abraham that the ring was very symbolic of his character. He had to work much harder than others with known names to get into the Academy, and then even harder to afford it and graduate at the top of his class. The tale behind the ring brought Abraham Donnick all the way to the highest and most prominent seat in the world.
Abraham intended to pass the ring down to his son, but tragedy struck before the two men ever got to make the exchange. Instead, Abraham passed it to Koston shortly before Marquez was born when Koston was having doubts about fatherhood. Abraham told Koston that he’d become a better man than he ever was, and certainly a much better father. Abraham died five days later. Having been the last conversation he’d ever had with his grandfather, Koston kept the ring on at all times and the story very close to his heart. This was probably why he was so unusually upset with him. Father wanted to entrust him with a precious family heirloom, and he couldn’t even show up to the meeting where he was to receive it.
“Father, I—”
“I’m still giving it to you.”
Marquez blinked with surprise. “You are?”
“It is a symbol of responsibility and maturity. You will wear it at all times as a reminder of the men who have worn it before you and what they’ve achieved. I wanted to give it to you because I’m proud of you, but now you get it as a lesson. You will become a great man and someone worthy of the Donnick name whether you like it or not.”
Abraham got the ring as a reward. I’m receiving it as a prison sentence.
Koston wrestled the ring off of his finger and handed it to his son. The stone felt like a boulder on Marquez’s palm and, when he tried to slip it onto his middle finger, he discovered that it was too boney to fit properly. The moment he’d start to walk while swaying his arms, the ring would slip from his hand to the floor. He contemplated putting it on his thumb, but inside slipped it into his pocket. 
“I’ll get a necklace for it,” Marquez muttered meekly.
“You’re damn right you will,” Koston replied. “Go to the foundation headquarters. Barbara will fill you in on what you’ve missed.”
Marquez bowed to his queen, then scurried out of the room like a rat with a flashlight cast on it. He didn’t wish to deal with any further scrutiny. Now was the time to pick up the pieces of the mistakes that he’d made.
Alone in the room, Koston returned to his seat across from Kallisto, whose expression hadn’t changed since Marquez stepped inside. She put her glass down and crossed both her arms and legs. “He will misplace that ring in a matter of minutes and four generations of familial symbolism will end up buried in some little tart’s bed.”
Koston shook his head.
The queen was amused by this and shot him a half-smile. “Oh? You think that giving him a shiny object will get him to change his tune?”
“Forgive me for saying this, Your Highness, but what do you know of children?”
“First they shit on your dreams, and then they shit on everything else,” she replied. “If someone has to be barren, I’m glad that it’s me. Could you imagine if my ex-husband had gotten me pregnant? We definitely don’t need another one of him running around Cardeau.”
“Children change you,” Koston said with a sullenness in his eyes. “I just wish I didn’t have to do this alone. Jessa would’ve made an excellent mother. I think he would have turned out differently.”
His words brought even the queen to melancholy. She grabbed the decanter and a second glass and said, “To that, we drink” while pouring the potent liquor into both. The two then clanked their glasses and sipped in silence while Hela’s setting added a deeper darkness to the room.


The ring bounced off of his chest with each step that Marquez took as he left the photoshoot, threatening to make an engraving between his pecs. He got a chain for it on the way to the ballroom the day before, then played with it while he and Milo had drinks in one of the few watering holes that served Marquez despite his age. All morning, he kept himself constantly aware that he wore his family’s history around his neck while he helped Barb, Sal, and the others set up the ballroom for that evening. He wasn’t about to prove everyone right again by falling short. The only reason he even went to the shoot was because they’d finished set up a few hours early, and Barb assured him that they could maintain things in his absence.
At the shoot he placed the ring in his pocket, knowing that modeling it while bare-chested would not reach his father’s approval. He put it back on the second he left the camera and changed into his dress clothes for the evening, which were picked out for him a few days before by the Queen’s wardrobe designer herself (after he fucked her).
Marquez stepped outside as Hela was dimming in the sky and looked across the street for his shuttle, dressed in a full suit that probably cost as much as the ring itself. He was surprised that Barb hadn’t called while he was on the shoot. He emphasized that she needed to contact him and not his father. Whether she would, and if she had faith in him, was another story. He’d find out when he got there.He bumped into a man of about sixty when he took another step. “Sorry!” he exclaimed, and caught a look at the man’s startled face that birthed wrinkles with expression. The old man said nothing in reply and kept shuffling forward in his long flowing tan garbs that resembled a bathrobe. He didn’t realize that he’d bumped into Marquez Donnick. If he had, he might’ve apologized.
Marquez shrugged it off. There was no reason for him to make an issue of it. There were bigger things to achieve that day. He continued towards his shuttle, going over the time schedule in his head. He didn’t usually take these things so seriously, but Father looked as though Marquez pushed too far this time. He needed to pull back in hopes that Koston would give him more leeway.
He reached his shuttle and played with the necklace again, feeling around for the…
Marquez felt the blood leave his face faster than it took father to be frustrated with him. The chain was there, but the ring… the ring was…
He spun around to get a glance at the old man walking along the pavement. Marquez cocked his head as the man continued to saunter as if nothing had happened, and then the old man broke into a sprint and rounded the corner.
“Son of a—” Marquez bolted after, taking giant strides diagonally across the quiet street. He rounded the corner quickly and saw the old man jump between two buildings. He wished he had his gunblade with him, but he should’ve been able to take an old thief just fine without it. He rushed toward the alley and leapt between the buildings.
The headlights nearly blinded him as an air shuttle took off in his direction. Marquez had just enough time to catch a glimpse of the old thief at the helm before it shot forward at full speed. It flew so low that his hair blew backwards, nearly spiked up enough to feel the bottom graze it.
Smarter men would have ducked, but Marquez reached for the left bottom rail of the shuttle and grasped the bar with both hands. His body jerked as he was forced off the ground and his legs dangled in the air as the shuttle took him with it.
The old thief flung around the corner and Marquez found himself flailing towards one of the stone walls of the alley. He brought his legs to his chest as fast as he could and kicked off of the buildings corner before being whipped around again in the open streets of Cardeau. His grasp on the rail was slipping while blurs of his surroundings made him queasy quickly. He forced his eyes shut as he clutched the rails tightly.
The thief flung him around a second corner, back onto the street where they’d bumped into each other. Marquez’s body propelled him in the opposite direction. This time the jerk of the hands on the rail knocked the shuttle free and Marquez tucked and rolled onto the street. The pavement he hit was more dirt than stone, so his body didn’t howl with pain like he feared it would. Instead he rolled along the ground and sprung to this feet with nothing but dust on his clothes to show for it as the thief’s shuttle sped down the street.
Marquez ran toward his and unlocked it on the way. The glass dome retracted just fast enough for him to jump into the driver’s seat and slam on the gas. His shuttle jerked awake and knocked him forward and back, but he clutched on the square steering wheel firmly and hovered off the ground just enough to fly over the shuttle in front of him.
The thief’s shuttle rounded a corner two blocks away, but Marquez’s vehicle was faster. He thrust the wheel forward so aggressively that he nearly flipped the shuttle as it barreled down the street, nearly clipping the signs dangling from buildings to his right. Several air shuttles flew overhead at a much safer altitude, but he knew that he needed to stay low and keep level with the buildings around him. This thief would want to whip around and aside buildings in hopes of losing him, but that wasn’t about to happen.
Marquez rounded the turn he saw the thief take just in time to watch him make a left in front of the Cardeau museum of natural history. He ignored the two-story long posters of Cardeau Palace, Superior Abraham Donnick, the original throne, and a scepter that once belonged to one of the first monarchs of the city-state.
A loud honk made him slam the brakes before he realized that it was well overhead. He kept driving low as the wind smacked his face and started to make it difficult to see. He should’ve put the glass frame back up, but even the thought of reaching for the button felt like a waste of time.
The thief made a sharp left around the entrance sign for the museum. The shuttle’s rails clipped a corner of it and forced it to swing from side to side. Marquez spun around it as the thief hoisted upwards and hovered of the rooftops to the same altitude that most of the other shuttles were flying. He sped up to further close the gap and swerved around a pair of shuttles that were taking a wide turn. Hela’s light gleamed on the glass domes in front of him and the swish of the wind jolted his body backward and forced him to protract the dome.
He regained his focus a second later and continued after the thief as he spun out several more shuttles in the Cardeau skies. Hundreds of shuttles were bolting in all directions and altitudes, flying above the streets between buildings as a reference point and minding their surroundings. Marquez kept his focus on the thief’s shuttle, which now looked just like every other shuttle in the sky. It even slowed to the same speeds of the other shuttles to further throw him off, but he couldn’t be fooled. He’d follow the old man across the world if it meant getting that ring back!
Marquez sped up until he got right behind the thief’s shuttle and, just as he was about to tap the back of his shuttle with his own, he noticed the backs of several other heads in the shuttle. His mouth fell open and he slowed down, giving the vehicle in front of him more space.
A moment later, another shuttle honked from behind and brought Marquez out of his sudden daze. He lowered his shuttle back toward the ground and parked it in an empty lot on the street. Sometime between the thief flying up to blend in with the other shuttles and before Marquez put the glass dome up so that the wind wouldn’t blind him, the old man must have disappeared without him knowing it.
He took it clear off my chain in less than a second. I didn’t even feel his fingers slip open the clasp. That wasn’t a thief—that was a magician!
A magician who stole the symbol of his family’s legacy. Marquez barely had it for a full day…


Father knew the moment he saw the dread on Marquez’s face as he walked into the empty ball room. He frowned at him from across the room filled with empty tables and chairs and a podium where the notes for Marquez’s speech were in order on a series of index cards. Marquez didn’t even bother to walk across the cerulean and silver checkered tiles to approach his father and explain what had happened. He knew the second that he made eye contact with the Captain of Cardeau, who had managed to hold onto the ring for Marquez’s entire lifetime, that there was no excuse that he would be open to hearing. Marquez had failed again.
It wasn’t even worth walking toward him with his head down and a pair of cracking wells in his eyes. The chain felt cold around the nape of his neck, and his chest bore a hole where the responsibility of bearing the ring once laid on him. He didn’t have the courage to open his mouth and say the words that would fall deaf on father’s ears.
Instead Koston shook his head, and Marquez turned around and left the ballroom, knowing that there was nothing else to be said or done.


In the desert south of Cardeau’s city border was a small wooden house barely large enough for one person. An air shuttle parked beside it while Hela took one last glimpse at the world for the day, and an old man with even older eyes stepped out of it and sauntered into his house of solitude.
He felt the ring clasped firmly in his callused hand as his rickety door creaked a little louder and a little longer than usual. His very surroundings were falling apart all around him. Despite his age, he felt as though he was the youngest thing in the deteriorating hut he called a home.
He placed the ring on the table that commonly gave him splinters and inspected it for a moment. It was probably worth a decent sum if he sold it to the right dealers. He wondered how the others did in their venture out into Cardeau. They were probably by the oasis where they planned to rendezvous back upon Hela set. None of them knew of the second home he’d built here so long ago.
Grains of sand popped up through the open floorboards and coated the bottoms of his feet as he walked on them over to his mantle where he inspected some of his other, more personal possessions: the very first coin he ever stole from a “noble” in Ratone, a piece of wood from the first house he built, and a crumbled and dampened photo of him and the family he was torn away from nearly sixty years before…



To read book one in the series: “The Raven of Dusk: Transcendence” click here

World of Dusk: The Interview

World of Dusk:“The Interview”

Anthony Greer

© 2015, Anthony Greer. AG Creative Publications

All rights reserved.No portion of this book may be used without sole permission of the copyright holder except in use of a review.

“World of Dusk: The Wedding” is one of several origin stories that all tie into “The Raven of Dusk” and its respective titles. “The Raven of Dusk” is a series that stands on its own, while the “World of Dusk” is meant to exist as a series of backstories and pivotal events that occur in the world of Noreis. Some of these stories will be mentioned in the series, while others will exist only in the “World of Dusk” origins. I hope you enjoy.
To read book one in the series: “The Raven of Dusk: Transcendence” click here



World of Dusk: The Interview
Eliza unglued her hands from the rectangular steering controls and stared at herself in the reflection of the dome glass. Her dark shoulder length hair with soft sandy brown accents curved inward and rounded out her otherwise hard face. Her emerald eyes had a fiery determination within them. The diamond blue dress shirt her mother bought her made her look both professional and pretty, much unlike her usual garbs. For the moment she felt like a political princess. What she needed was the confidence of a queen—and what she really needed was to stop quivering.
She pressed a button to retract the glass dome of her air shuttle and stepped out of it and into the guest parking lot of the main building on the academy's grounds. She nearly tripped on the bottom rails that held the shuttle up. She'd never done that before.
There was no way she could appear before the dean of admissions while seeming so shaken. This tension needed to go away.
She headed for the air lift platform a few parking spaces away. A sliding glass door opened and closed behind her and she pressed the button for the 42nd floor. Once it started upward, she couldn't stand still. She tried to do all that she could to shake her nerves, but nothing stopped her heart from racing. Her portfolio and her application slipped from her hands and onto the ground. She cussed loudly and bent down to pick them up, then she stood straight and didn't move. She needed to be as professional as possible. She sighed, took a deep breath and, when the lift reached her destination, a mature young woman exited out of it.
Eliza kept a regular, unchanging pace and focused only on the admissions office in front of her where a kind-looking grandmother type smiled sweetly at her.
“What can I do for you, dear?”
“My name is Eliza Bennihan. I have an interview scheduled with the dean of admissions today.”
The receptionist opened up her telescreen. Her eyes went back and forth as she inspected her holographic calendar in search of Eliza’s name. “Oh yes, Miss Eliza Bennihan. Please, have a seat. I'll call you when the Admissions Board is ready to see you.”
“Thank you,” Eliza said, backing away and sitting in one of the office chairs along the wall.
Two seats away from her sat another girl, both a little taller and older than she was. She was dressed in black and white and, unlike Eliza, gave off the aura that she was more than ready for her interview.  Eliza took a glance at her application and at the large portfolio on the seat in between them. The top of her application read ‘Helena Cavill’ and beneath it 'Cardeau Advisory Academy: Sophomore.'
“This is going to be my third year interviewing for the academy,” Helena said, “I thought I had it last year but this... this is my year.”
Eliza frowned. The last thing she needed to see was someone who looked more together than was did telling her of her inability to be one of the 3% of applicants that got accepted into the academy.
“Is this your first time applying? I imagine it has to be. You look young.”
“I'm fifteen,” Eliza mumbled.“I'm sorry?”
“I'm fifteen. If I get accepted I'll be sixteen when I start.”
Helena smiled. Eliza couldn't tell if it was legitimate or if there was deviousness behind it. “Well, I wish you the best of luck then.”
“Thank you. And you as well.”
“Miss Bennihan,” the receptionist leaned forward in her desk, “the Advisory Board will see you now.”
“Already?”
“Yes.”
Eliza turned to Helena. “You're not first?”
“Nope. I showed up an hour early. I think I'm right after you.”
Eliza gulped and didn't say another word. She closed her eyes for a second to gather herself. Once she did, the receptionist led her down a corridor to a bland-looking door at the far end. She partook in the long walk down the hall, where the kind grandmother-type seemed to morph into a last rites guard. The clunking of her heels resembled the dramatic footsteps that preluded her execution.
She told herself to stop being over-dramatic. It didn't work.
Eliza entered the room where the three members of the board all rose from their seats. The board meeting room rivaled most hotel lobbies in size. Columns formed an octagon in the crème colored room, which was easily thirty feet high. Behind them was a large window where she’d be able to see the rest of the Barencos if it hadn't been a cloudy day. A light orange fog concealed the air shuttles flying by until they were zooming across the building. Even the neighboring skyscraper was barely visible. This was probably a good thing. She'd be less distracted from the board members before her.
She approached them and shook their hands one by one. They introduced themselves, but she already knew who they were. She'd been doing research on them ever since she'd gotten the interview scheduled. On the right was Adviser Merchant, a man in his sixties and a former Adviser of the city-state of Magent. On the left was former Senator Shander, a woman in her forties who served in Barencos for more than half her life. In the center was Dean Stockton, the head of the admissions for the BAA as well as a former monarch.
Once she sat down she was panic stricken. They didn't say anything right away. Dean Stockton put her application aside and picked apart her portfolio like a surgeon dissecting a body to see how it worked. Pages were removed and spread across the table for the three of them to see. They analyzed her recommendations, essays and grades carefully while Eliza sat in silence, feeling her soul be picked apart document by document. She didn't know if they wanted her to speak, so she didn't say anything. She remained silent with her hands in her lap and her eyes unblinking. As they pried apart her life, she needed to stay focused and professional.
“This portfolio is...” Dean Stockton paused. It was the longest moment of Eliza's life.
“It's quite good,” Adviser Merchant concluded.
She immediately felt at ease. She sat straight up and waited to hear more.
Dean Stockton went next. “You spent three years on Representative Gerald’s campaign, starting on your twelfth birthday? That’s quite young. What was that experience like for you?”
“I loved it,” Eliza said, “When he first met me, he was a little skeptical about my age, but once we became better acquainted I went from doing lunch runs for the staff to becoming a speech writer, editor of his campaign, and before my family moved from Larcos to Kalia, he asked me to stay onboard as his campaign manager. If I took the job, I would have been the youngest campaign manager in Larcosian history. Unfortunately, my mother wasn’t keen on letting me live alone in a continent away from them.”
“That’s a shame,” Adviser Merchant said. “But your mother is wise, and you will have other opportunities.”
“If you were to be admitted into the Barencos Advisory Academy, you wouldn’t be able to live anywhere near Kalia,” Senator Shander said. “Barencos is a half-day’s drive away. Would your mother allow you to come, then?”
“My father promised me that, if I got in, he would leave his job to try and find one in this city if my mother requires that of him,” Eliza explained. “He is much more in tune with my dream than she is. He wanted to get into politics once, too, but my mother convinced him to become an ecologist when she became pregnant with me. He found his own way to improve the world. I am hoping that this will be a great way for me to find my way.”
“Your aspirations can change a million times between now and then,” Senator Shander said. “It’s the risk that comes with being so young. The median age of accepted applicants into the academy is nineteen, and even some of the older ones waver.”
Eliza thought about defending her age, but she remained quiet. Refutations were her strong suit, but didn’t know how to talk to these people. What one official would think of as complimentary could offend another. The last thing she needed was for any of them to get a sour taste in their mouths while the interview was ongoing.
“She is quite young,” Dean Stockton said, “but age doesn't necessarily matter all the time. Miss Bennihan, how well do you know the political system of Noreis and those who run it?”
“I can tell you what every position does and the variations of laws in all four city-states of the Pecorwin Continent. I also did intensive studies on both Barencosian law and Hewenian law.”
“Hewenian law?” Dean Stockton’s octave raised with his surprise. “That’s an unusual study.”“It’s an unusual place.”
Along with humans, the world of Noreis was home to two other intelligible species: the Hennians and the Trewanians. Hennians were creatures that were often six feet tall and with blue skin covered in scales. Many of them took jobs that required a lot of use of their hands, considering that they had four as opposed to two. They also had some of the brightest, most beautiful eyes that Eliza had ever seen. Trewanians were often seven feet tall—some ever taller, and had a light green skin that was almost transparent. Many of them would look sickly if they weren’t also brute.
Despite looking dissimilar, Hennians and Trewanians had very common core beliefs and lived their lives by them. Just a century earlier, religious zealots, wealthy financial backers, and many hard workers erected Hewenia, a city-state where the two races could live under a government that fused church and state. While not all Hennians and Trewanians lived there, Hewenia was seldom a place where you’d see many humans—and the humans that were there were almost always tourists.The three members of the admissions board pondered her interest in Hewenia for a second longer, and then it was back to questioning.
The dean continued. “Can you name the last ten Monarch Superiors of Noreis?”
“I can name the last eighty,” she replied instantly.
“Who was Superior Parker's successor,” Adviser Merchant asked.
“Which Superior Parker?” Eliza asked. “Shaya Parker’s successor was Superior Wen Fawn while Maya's was Superior Damon Morelli.”
“Superior Shaya Parker's successor was actually Gavin Malloy,” Adviser Merchant said.“Actually, Miss Bennihan is right,” Dean Stockton replied. “Fawn was the official Superior for two cycles before she resigned. Superior Gavin Malloy was his successor.” The dean gave her a smile, which made her light up inside. “So Eliza, if you were to gain admittance into the academy, what are you looking to study?”
Eliza stalled for a moment and discreetly bit her lip. It was the most obvious question that she'd be asked, but even after weeks of preparation, she didn't have a proper answer for it. “I'm still trying to figure that out. I know that I want to continue studying Norean Law. It's my passion and it always has been but, with regards to a career afterward, I'm still in the process of discovering what my exact path should be.”
Senator Shander nodded. “That's common. Especially for our younger applicants.”
“But—” Eliza went pale. She thought that the senator was done, but Shander opened her mouth to continue speaking. Stifled, Eliza decided to not further with her interruption.
“Were you going to say something?” the senator asked.
“I,” Eliza bit her lip. It was noticeable this time. “What I was going to say was that even though I don't know what I'd like to do yet, there are many who have attended the Barencos Advisory Academy with the same thoughts and have done many great things for Noreis. People like you, Senator Shander. Your motion to restructure the districts of Barencos allowed for your government to obtain the abilities it needed to become more efficient and to drop the unemployment rate back down into low single digits—at one point three-point-five percent!
“Adviser Merchant, you are still known today as one of the greatest Advisers that Magent has ever had. Your backing of the outdoor conditioning technology has saved thousands from heatstroke in your city-state every year, and yet it still didn't add any heat or electric taxes despite what so many people believed. And now, if I may, your daughter is finishing her final year at the academy. She had no idea what she wanted to do before entering, and she's thinking about working for the same district that you got your start in.
“And lastly there's you, Dean Stockton. It took you four interviews before you were finally admitted to this academy, and even then it was just a two-to-one vote. Not only did you surpass the doubts of your advisers, but you became the head of your class and now you're the dean of the academy—and if I remember correctly, you had changed your major four times within your first two years here.”Dean Stockton smiled. “Actually, it was five times. I was a Common Law Major twice, but I can't imagine that you'd have any way of knowing that.”
Eliza kept quiet. She knew she didn't need to say anymore.
“You're definitely one of our more impressive applicants,” the dean said.
“I agree,” added Senator Shander.
Eliza smiled and looked from the senator to the dean.
Adviser Merchant was still busy sifting through the remnants of her portfolio. He reached the end and started examining the documents on their desk.
“Is something wrong,” the dean asked him.
“Yes,” the adviser said, “I notice that you have copious amounts of praise from Representative Gerald, but you don’t have a second letter of recommendation from another government official.Eliza felt all of the blood rush to her face. She feared the next words that would come out of her mouth. “Representative Carlton, also from Larcos, was going to write me one, but there was a money laundering scandal that he ended up on the wrong side of and he was forced to resign. My family just moved to Kalia. I do not know that city-state like I knew my home, so I don’t know if I can get a second letter of recommendation any time soon. Carlton will vouch for me, despite what’s happened to him. I was hoping that it would be a satisfactory enough requirement.”
A shockwave of silence reverberated through the admissions board. Three pairs of eyes narrowed in and saw right through hers. She had to sit on her hands to prevent them from shaking.
“That uh... that unfortunately changes things, Miss Bennihan,” the dean said.
Eliza nodded on like a convict found guilty and awaiting a sentence.
“Two letters of recommendation from political figures actively in power is one of the requirements to be admitted into the school,” Senator Shander explained. “You're a very impressive young woman, but we cannot make any exceptions. If one of our own children was unable to meet one of those requirements, we'd be unable to admit them as well.”
“I... I understand.” She felt her body slowly melt. At any moment she would surely become a mere puddle on their white-tiled floor. “Is there anything I can do?”
The dean and the senator exchanged glances. It was the dean who answered her. “We are unable to make an official decision regarding who gets accepted into the academy until we've met with all of the applicants. The process will take months. If you can get the letter of recommendation from a second official, then we can add it to your portfolio.”
“While we cannot guarantee even then that you'll be admitted, I will say that your chances are better than most of our applicants,” the senator said.
She let out a sigh of relief and nodded. “I can do this. I swear it on my potential future at your academy.”
Eliza stood and shook all of their hands again and the dean wished her luck. After, she left them and passed through the corridor, the receptionist and Helena, and headed for the air lift.
It’s not the end of the world, she told herself. Just another hurdle. She tried to keep her focus on the positives of the interview. They liked her more than she thought they would. That was the biggest relief, mainly because most people that Eliza had come across in her life didn't particularly care for her. Her peers made fun of the way she dressed and how she knew everything, while her mother was both overprotective and inattentive at the same time. That was all right though. If she got admitted into the academy, the people she'd known in her life up to that point wouldn't matter anyway. She just needed to find a political official that inspired her.


Eliza was relieved when she saw that she beat her mother home. She didn’t tell her that she had an interview scheduled across the continent before her mother left to go visit her best friend back in Larcos. Eliza’s was the first of the family air shuttles to park in front of their new crystal two-story home in the city-state of Kalia.
Kalia was mostly known for its tourism and science programs. The entire city-state was made up of crystals and water. The ground was coated in tiny rock crystals with a consistency barely greater than powder. It made up the buildings and shimmered in the light of Hela, and in the moon and stars above. Tiny streams of neon water etched the sidewalks and shuttle lots from the main roads, and then went to light the city-state with hydroelectric power. If Eliza were to follow the streams of water all to their origins, she would come across one of the several hydrodomes in Kalia, which were two hundred feet in height and funneled water from its core through to millions of pipes dispersed from it.
Most natives even wore crystal beaded shirts and dresses, further blending in with the city-state they’ve grown to love. The Bennihans had only moved there recently. Eliza’s father said that they were there only temporarily while he worked on a project for his company that required them to transplant from their cozy home in Larcos. Eliza never wanted to be there, already having made a positive dent in Larcosian politics. Her mother wasn’t thrilled either, seeing that she spent most of her days cleaning, cooking, and then getting cocktails with “the girls.” The Bennihans needed the money though. The raise that came with the transition would be enough for them to buy a larger house upon their return to Larcos, and help pay for some of Eliza’s schooling.
In truth, Eliza didn’t miss anything in Larcos beyond her job. School in Kalia was the same as it was in Larcos, except now different students rolled their eyes when she answered questions in class, and their library was a little larger and easier to find a spot to read during lunchtime. The names she was called were different, but they were just as uncreative as those in Larcos. When it came to a battle of wits, Eliza won every time. Unfortunately, responding to sophomoric insults with deep cutting truths didn’t result in lifelong friendships. She was as excited in Kalia as she was in Larcos to graduate two years early.
She stepped inside their small empty home. Father must have gone home and went straight to sleep the night before. He was supposed to take her to the interview, but work called him in at the last minute. She would need to let him know that she did the best she could when he came home, and that the reason she didn’t get in was out of control.
When he returned home an hour later, he didn’t share her sentiment. Before Eliza got to tell him anymore, he put his gear down and took her to a local diner that reminded them both of home. There was absolutely nothing special about it, except for that it looked like every other diner in Noreis. Back in Larcos, when Father came home late and Eliza was still up, he would sometimes take her to their diner and they would talk about their day for hours. It was rare for either of them to have anything significant to say, but just talking to him meant the world to her. Father was the only one who understood her, which was probably why he was so upset when she told him the news. “I’m so sorry Eliza,” he said as the two shared a plate of fries and tempura. “If I didn’t have this job—”
“Carlton’s letter would still be ineligible,” Eliza replied. “Unfortunately, I don’t know the other representatives in Larcos well enough to get a letter that would hold weight. Dean Stockton recommended that I find someone here in Kalia to work for.”
Father took a minute, trying to swallow a mouthful of food. “Do you know anyone?”
Eliza shook her head. “I’ve spent the last couple of months perfecting my portfolio as is. Between that and finals, I haven’t had time to look. No one stands out, though. If they did, I would’ve known who they were before we moved out here.”
“Before I moved us out here,” her father replied. He took a large gulp of his soda and continued to stuff his face. It took Eliza a few minutes to figure out why her father was so hungry, then realized that their mother wasn’t there to make him lunch that day.
“They liked me, though,” she said, sliding a fry from one side of the plate to the other. “I don’t think they tell just anyone that their portfolios are impressive. I think I have a legitimate shot at this.”
“Of course you do. You are one of the brightest, most driven people that I’ve ever met.”
I know. “I’m not even from a royal family, or from a prestigious line like the Donnick’s or the Xeras’… no offense.”
“No, I understand,” father replied. “I guess we just need to find someone that inspires you.”
Eliza frowned. She’d barely eaten all day, but suddenly she no longer felt hungry. “I wish you would go back to politics. You had a seat in our housing board and you were thinking about city council before we left.”
Father shook his head. “No, I think I’m exactly where I need to be. I have no desire to go back now.”
“But I’ve seen you speak,” she retorted. “I’ve watched you stand up in a crowded room and argue your ideas; I’ve seen people’s faces go from indifference to cheering for you. You were well on your way to following your dreams before you and mom became parents.”
He chortled. “You mean before we had you?”
Eliza nodded.
Father stopped eating to take a look at her. His eyes were almost as green as hers, but dimmed with age and responsibility. Mr. Bennihan was more calm and collected now than he was gregarious and influential. Through him, Eliza saw a path that she could easily go down herself one day, if she were to find love and marry (though her lack of prospects made this unlikely). “You know what your mother always says about you is true, right?”
“That my clothes look like that they should be worn by homeless children as punishment by other homeless children with nicer looking clothes?”
“No… what?”
“Oh no, that was a barista,” Eliza replied. “Which is awkward because he’s also blind.”
“No, the stuff that your mother says when I’m actually around to hear it.”
She shrugged.
Father took another sip of his soda. “She said that you can’t wait to get your life started. Eliza, you were born three weeks early and your mother was in labor for less than twenty minutes. If we weren’t already at the hospital, I would’ve had to deliver you myself. You’ve been reading books before most children even learn to talk, and you started watching televised senate hearings at five. You’re the only kid I know that actually finishes their homework right after school so that you can go to the library—where the entire staff know you by name. You read, and you study, and for fun you read some more. I used to have to read the constitution to you because you preferred that to a bedtime story. We’ve been raising an adult from the moment you were born. At first it was cute, but most of your childhood years have gone by already.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that maybe your mother is a little right,” he winced upon speaking.
“Right about what?”
“That you need to be a kid while you still can be. Maybe make some friends—real ones, this time.”
“I—”
“I love my job, and I loved having you. When your mother and I talked about our future together as a family, it didn’t take much for her to convince me to not run for a position of power. We didn’t want the stress of campaigning and mudslinging and to be put on a stage. We just wanted to have our own little family unit.”
Eliza couldn’t believe that these words were coming out of her father. “So get married, have a kid, and then get some simple job with a modest income. Is that the path you wish for me to take?”
“No! No, of course not. You are probably going to lead a very unique and interesting life. I just hope that it’s going to be one that you enjoy. Does all of this make you happy?”
“You’re starting to sound like her.”
“Who? Your mother? The woman who has raised and loved you even though you go out of your way to not have anything in common with her?”
She had no response. Did her parents somehow manage to switch bodies while she’d been in Barencos? What was this foreign language that he was speaking to her?
“Look, I’m not saying that you shouldn’t look for someone to try and admire, I’m simply saying that maybe this is a sign. Maybe you should take the year and enjoy yourself after graduation—or during school, since you’re still in it. The Barencos Advisory Academy will still be there in a year, and the admissions board would be foolish to not accept you. You learned that for yourself today.”
“I will not wait another year,” she hissed. “This is my year. I will not be like you and mother and compromise my dreams for someone else. I’m going to get into the best school in the world and I’ll graduate before even hitting the median age of those admitted—”
“And then what?” Her father asked. “I know you want to change the world, but how can you change something you’ve barely spent any time around? What happens if you accomplish all of this and then realize that you know nothing of the world you wish to better? Where will you start?”
“I’ll have years to figure that out.”
“But it’s the one question that you couldn’t answer during the interview,” her father retorted. “It’s a question that most everyone else going there will already have a memorized answer for.”
“Well, I don’t!” she shouted. If the diner was even remotely busy, people would’ve stopped to turn their heads to see a girl feuding with her father for what might’ve been the first time.
An uncomfortable and unfamiliar silence corroded their table as if Eliza was in the middle of a terrible dream. Father was and always had been her main supporter. If he wasn’t with her now, then she needed to find a political figure to follow as quickly as possible. She didn’t want to spend another year in the Bennihan household, where one parent could never relate to her while the other wanted her to become someone else.
She stood from the table and turned to him with the fire in her eyes that had been extinguished in his. “I’ll walk home from here. Have a good night, father.”
The buildings shimmered navy blues and greens in the moonlight. Some of the trees had glowing branches and leaves, and nearby there was a large fountain that spouted out water in brilliant designs that often caught the attention of tourists and passerby’s. Eliza had no interest in the beauty of Kalia that night, though. All she wanted to do was go to bed and pretend that nothing that night had ever happened. Father was always her defender. Without him, and without Representative Gerald to assist with campaign management while he acted as a second father to her, she had no one to depend on but herself.
The walk home was a somber one. She passed groups of people in the streets, all interacting with each other on their way to a late night dinner, drinks, or the park. None of them paid her much attention. They were too engrossed in their own worlds and their own social circles and, for the most part, they also all seemed to enjoy their group’s company. She was willing to bet her allowance that none of these people worked half as hard she did to struggle to make a change in the world, and yet that didn’t seem to bother them. Maybe her parents were right; maybe she needed a childhood, or at least friends.
The very concept made her nauseous. Aside from a couple of scholars at the library, there was no one that she could think of that she’d want to befriend.
She grimaced when she saw that her mother’s air shuttle was in front of their house. She didn’t want to get the same advice repeated to her by a woman who didn’t understand why she wanted to go to the BAA at all. Thankfully, Eliza came home to find the lights all off and a tepid snoring coming from her parent’s bedroom. She slinked by and headed into her own bedroom, feeling immediately more secure with her door shut behind her. Neither of her parents would bother her for the rest of the night. She would have plenty of time to start searching for someone in Kalia to follow.
She sat at her desk and swiped her textbooks away from the keyboard to her telescreen, which gave off the same glow as the cerulean crystals that the moon shined upon outside her window. The screen divided up into three parts: her e-mail to the left, a series of scrolling breaking stories to the right, and a blank black screen in the center waited for her voice commands.
“What…?” she muttered as she glanced to her right. A story titled ‘Progressive Representative Vila Pirral introduces a bill to the Hewenian House of Representatives to Separate Religion from Government Regulation.’ She clicked on the story, which opened up to an image of Representative Pirral, a Hennian creature with bright fiery purple eyes and lavender furs. Her white feathery hair draped across her shoulders and over her blue scaly skin as she stood behind a podium with a look of such defiance that Eliza imagined that the whole House fell silent when she spoke.
“Since the creation of Hewenia,” Eliza said, reading one of Vila’s quotes aloud, “We have believed that religion and government are fused together in our city-state. What we as Hennians and Trewanians have neglected to acknowledge in the last century is that it is actually our culture that defines our primary differences between our races and humans, and that our culture is what brought us together to form this city-state. Religious zealots have ruled Hewenia for too long, using the ‘Book of Gods’ as a weapon and not as a text in which to follow with our own personal, private beliefs. We as a city-state should continue to celebrate our culture but, now that we are strong enough to stand on our own feet, it is time to separate the beliefs we have and the rules and regulations that we are to follow.”
Eliza read the next paragraph and blinked with surprise. “Shockingly, Representative Pirral’s bill did not die upon its birth. While the House of Representatives voted it down, Pirral’s own district has decided to add it to their list of legislation to consider. If it passes in Pirral’s district, it may return to the House with strong support.”
Wow… a progressive woman administering a drastic, seemingly positive change in her district. “Hmm,” she muttered. A human girl goes to Hewenia, interns for a district representative there while that representative alters the course of her city-state’s future, and then gets a letter of recommendation to show to the BAA admissions board.
For the first time that day, Eliza smiled. “Now that’s a way to get admitted…”







To read book one in the series: “The Raven of Dusk: Transcendence” click here

World of Dusk: The Wedding -- Anthony's Commentary

World of Dusk: The Wedding is part of a short story series that ties into Raven of Dusk book series. Koston is a member of the very respected Donnick family and is determined to live up to his lineage's reputation, even if it means sacrifices pieces of himself to maintain the public's love. His only solace lies in his darkest secret--one that the public may never accept.
Anthony Greer gives you his author's commentary on his short story and how it plays a pivotal role in the series itself.


To read the story:
http://anthony-greer.blogspot.com/201...
To read first novel in the series, The Raven of Dusk: Transcendence:
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00VUGO0SQ