Chapter #8

I can only stare in shock as Pittacus Lore looks down upon me. I've never actually met him, but I can now attribute to every story concerning his god-like presence. It's no small wonder that ancient humans once thought him to be one, proclaiming him "Zeus." It's a name some still call him today. I can't believe this man is standing in front of me. How are any of us supposed to reach his level of glory, or wisdom? Surely there can be no higher level of achievement than his. With the other Elders I've met, it was different. Lupa held a kind of mystic power, a silent, subtle presence yet laced with chills. Matoran was physically massive, standing nearly as tall as Setrakus Ra, with a warm handsome face, but the power of raging rivers behind him, threatening to break forth from the dam, always setting people on the edge of their seats. Pittacus's presence is all encompassing, controlling every aspect of my being, and the being of the world around him. You're completely enthralled. He just is.

And so he stares down at me, and I respond with the most intelligent response ever.

"What?"

Mentally I cringe. Ronnie Anne would have my head if she ever learned of how big an idiot I was at this opportunity.

His face takes on a warm, graceful smile, yet sad, "I fear you have bigger worries than what your friend would say at this meeting."

I frown slightly, "Did you just…"

"Read your mind." He confirms, though not with his voice, but rather projecting the thought straight into my head.

I slowly get to my feet, "Of course. You have all the Vanirs."

He smiles again, "Not something people often forget."

I ponder what it would be like to have that much power, to have such control.

His eyes grow sad, "It's a burden."

"Why?" I ask curiously.

He waves it away with a hand, "A concern for another day. I fear we have enough for this one alone, forget those to come."

I look at him, struggling to understand, a feeling I've really grown to hate in the past few days, "What do you mean? Why are you here?"

He tilts his head, "You do realize that those two questions could apply to any one of millions of situations? Details are of great importance in this life, Lincoln Loud."

I frown, "Can't just figure out what I'm thinking and answer it?"

He brought his head back and stood solidly upon the forest floor, "I certainly could, but most others can't. So I suggest you practice for that occasion."

"Why not just answer me here and now and save the time?"

"The tools used for crafting are a thousand times more valuable than the single product. A cliché, I know, but actually rather accurate in this case."

"I get the feeling I'm gonna receive a lot of these of 'tips' from you."

"Going to, not 'gonna'. And most assuredly. Now if you would stop wasting my time, tell me."

I'm instantly reminded who this man is, and I realize I've been speaking to him as if I might needle one of the Teacher's. I'm ashamed, and hope I haven't lost my chance to impress him.

"My dreams." I say, finally referring to the elephant in the room.

He nods slowly, "Not dreams. Visions."

I feel a sense of dread come over me, "They're real then?"

He nods gravely, "Most of them, yes. And unfortunately for us they aren't the happy ones."

I lick my dry lips, "So the Stranger, he exists? There really is danger?"

"Yes. Which brings forth my reason for being here now."

"You'll help me?"

He studies me carefully, "Of course."

"How?" I say weakly.

He nods, apparently satisfied with whatever he sees in me, "We'll start by taking you to a friend."

He turns and starts towards the forest's edge. I follow behind him, still in awe. He takes long, powerful strides, the edge of is robes billowing out behind him. He commands power in even the slightest movement, and is brimming with confidence. I'm safe with him. He breaks into a run, and I follow him with my Vanir. He keeps pace effortlessly, the both us darting through trees and over cliffs and rivers. I can't help but think how amazing this, him being here. He almost never leaves his seat in London, yet he's here in the middle of this forest. With me.

I'm startled when his thoughts break into my head, "You are too single-minded. Your Vanir grants you a great gift, but you only use it physically. The world stands still before you, and you take no notice. Look at what's in front of you, take in every blade of grass and every ray of sunlight. Apply your speed to your perception, and realize what has been under your nose all this time."

I frown as I vault over a fallen limb, "I can't just snap my fingers and make it work like that. My Vanir gives me speed, not some super Zen thought or something."

It does. Your eyes register everything as fast as you race through this forest. You can process a million thoughts in a single instant if you truly apply yourself. Within that solitary moment you can devise a hundred different ways to exploit and defeat any opponent."

I remind myself that this is Pittacus Lore, the greatest of our race. One of us Ten is supposed to replaced him some day. If anyone can teach me anything, it's him. So I exhale a heavy breath and try to do what he described. I try to see everything as we race past, or have a million thoughts or whatever, but it doesn't work. I just strain my eyes and give myself a killer headache.

"It will come with practice," Pittacus promises telepathically, "Keep working on it. Once you do master it, it will be an invaluable tool."

"I'll try." I say doubtfully when we come to a stop. We're standing on the edge of a small cliff, looking down into a small clearing surrounded by heavy forests. A small waterfall starts a few feet from beneath us, and it cascades into a sparkling clear pool at near the rocky floor. It's a place of beauty, with rays of light from one of the suns in the sky filtering through the trees to the forest floor. A young man around Lunas size waits below, his face turned down to the earth. I can tell that much from even up here. Pittacus gracefully places a gauntleted hand on my shoulder, and I experience a brief sense of vertigo as I suddenly appear at the bottom of the valley besides the small pool.

Gravel crunches under his feet as Pittacus strides forward, with me close behind. Then the young man before us lifts his head and stands, and all the fear that accompanied me before my meeting with Pittacus comes rushing back. I hurl a fallen tree limb near the pool at the man, but Pittacus extends a hand spews a short jet of flame before it can reach him. Only still glowing, red-hot cinders reach the man, drifting past him in the slight wind.

I prepare myself for another assault, but Pittacus holds up his hand, stopping me. I look at him in disbelief. The Stranger stands before me, the man from my dreams. The same one who has assaulted my mind for the past month, spinning a tale of shadows. My Vanir of precognition tried to warn me, showing him racing towards me here. And now Pittacus Lore, an Elder, has brought me to him. I've convinced myself that he is the enemy, that there could be nothing worse than him, no real "shadow" that haunts me. That his "warnings" were only to gain my trust so he could lead me away from my allies and kill me. I want to believe that he is my greatest threat, this guy with dark hair towering over me, but now I know it can't be true. Because his fire burns away the shadow.

In that sixth sense, I can see him. I see the fire, nearly blinding. It binds us together, tendrils reaching out to one another, and distantly to Setrakus Ra. This man is the Fourth. And if no shadow touches him, as opposed to Setrakus Ra, then he can be trusted. I look at him with new eyes, slowly adopting a more relaxed state. Yes, he has a presence of danger, but I get the sense that it only applies to his enemies. He's a young African American kid with a tall stature and an athletic build. He wears dark or light-colored clothing while not wearing the standard attire of a boarding school. He has dark brown eyes and short, slightly curled black hair, a silent warning that the next time I attack him he won't be content with just letting Pittacus keep me back.

Pittacus nods approvingly, "At last you come into the light."

The Stranger steps forward and extends a hand, "It's been a while, Lincoln Loud."

I shake it meekly, "You really were trying to warn me."

"Obviously."

"I've been watching you," Pittacus started, "to keep you safe. I brought him here. He flew here from his safe location and landed in the forest. He's been making his way here ever since he landed, taking out any of your enemies he came across."

"I had to leave my ship behind when I entered the sky border, but I managed to smuggle myself onboard a shuttle from one of our Yates on the ocean. Unfortunately, I was found and ran into some…complications that resulted in a crash. So I had to settle for warning you telepathically while making my way here on foot. And here I finally am."

"You have Vanirs? You're a Aesir?" I asked.

"Yup. And as the rightful heir to Lupa's elder throne, I gain a few special abilities."

"You're her… son?" I ask, puzzled.

His eyes darkened, "Yes. Even if hadn't been, I would have inherited her position. And betray me."

"What did she do?"

"She tried to kill me."

"Oh." I get the feeling there's more to this story, but I'm even more certain that if I push it he'll have no qualms squashing me into a pile of dust.

"A wise decision." Pittacus intervened telepathically, while speaking aloud, "That's not why we're here. We're here for you. You could one day carry the hopes of all sentient races of the planet."

I fidget nervously, "What are we fighting exactly?"

Pittacus's expression darkened, "My brothers and sisters…they have fallen prey to a darkness, the same you see opposing the fire within us. They are corrupted, all save one. They have forgotten our purpose here, and seek power for their own ends, and the master they now serve. We were to pave the way for you and the rest of the Ten, but now they will refuse to give up their power. They will attempt to keep it from you, and keep it for him. The great Elders," he said bitterly, "now mere puppets in the thrall of a dark god."

"The shadows."

"A visual representation of his evil, yes."

"I think I may have seen him," I say nervously, "On the plateau…"

"That was not him," the Stranger interrupted, "Merely his herald."

I frown as another thought comes rushing into my head, "The plateau, the light…what happened to it?"

"I moved it." Pittacus stated simply.

"But what is it? The light, it had some sort of power over me. Some attraction."

"That light is integral to the planet," Pittacus replied, "A light that must never go out. But you will learn all in due time. We need to focus on the matter at hand."

"Getting you out of the city." The Stranger explained.

All of my reservations come flooding back. This is my home, my life. Ronnie Anne is here, my friends, my family. Surely no one could take the whole city. London has never been conquered since the dawn of our civilization. There are over a thousand Garde dwelling within these walls, not to mention the Sentinels or automated defenses. There's no reason to leave, to run. We can fight it, whatever this evil is. Some man, with a Vanir over shadows? Could he really withstand the entire city?

All of this rushes through my head, and I blurt it out, desperate to stay, "Can't we fight it? You're Pittacus Lore…and you're some eight ton Mogadorian rhino. If we get the city to stand beside us we could…"

The Stranger cuts me off, "It's not like that. Weren't you listening to Pittacus? It's a corruption, an inside threat, not someone you can stand and fight. Not yet anyway. The city is already in their hands, they just haven't revealed themselves yet. They're just biding their time."

I turn to Pittacus, "But this is your city. Your seat. You're our leader. They'll listen to you. They have to!"

He stands there impassively, arms crossed, shaking his head. "There has to be something we can do!" I yell, frustrated.

"Run." The Stranger states matter-of-factly.

Pittacus steps forward slowly, "Royal is already lost, Lincoln. It has been for a long time now. Most of the nation is. I was too slow… too occupied with the threat outside our walls to notice the one eating away from our core."

The Stranger breaks in, "There are still some holdfasts in the North, and other remote areas. But the bulk of the population resides in the Elders' Cities, and the Elders are lost. There is no respite here."

A horrible thought creeps into my head, "You don't mean…"

"Yes." The Stranger says, "You'll be safe with me. Setrakus Ra might have control of the military and larger corporations, but the commoners resent him. I can make a war against him."

"No." I say, hysteria rising into my voice, "I'm not leaving."

Pittacus puts a comforting arm on my shoulder and speaks strongly, but not unkindly, "I'm sorry, Lincoln. But we have to keep you safe. You have to train, prepare yourself, so we can liberate our people."

"What about the other Ten?"

"They will remain here, with me. I will keep them safe, I promise."

The Stranger looks up sharply at this, "What? They were to come with us, and you as well. You can't possibly be considering…"

"My brothers suspect us," Pittacus broke in wearily, "This is the only sure way to get at least one of them to safety."

"You're going to leave me with him?" I blurt out, and instantly regret it. "Sorry, I just mean…I barely know him, and you're …you, I guess."

Pittacus smiles as the Stranger snorts, "I wouldn't worry if I were you, Lincoln. He is a most formidable ally, and will keep you safe. And an old friend of yours."

"Who?" I ask him.

The Stranger shakes his head, "I'll take that as a compliment, Uncle Pittacus." He turns to me, "You really don't remember do you? I don't blame you, I've changed quite a bit. Here's a hint: I haven't been here in four years."

I think back to the last person that here in nine years ago, and it suddenly. I remember him now, though not the man in front of me, but the ten year-old kid who I saw from afar, and only met at sponsor meetings my grandparents brought me to.

"Raphael."

He takes a mock bow, "Raphael D'Wolf, heir and son to Lupa, the Unworthy One, at your service."

I suspected, but I now stare in shock that he's confirmed it, "You left…"

"After my bastard of a mother killed my father and tried to kill me."

A news article from long ago drifts into my head, "You're supposed to be at somekind of Ritch private school."

"And you shoot lightning bolts from your palm." He counters.

I turn to Pittacus, "How did you…?"

He gives that sad smile once more, "Like I said, we've been watching you. A great Vanir as well, if I might add, though you wield it without finesse."

My face reddens slightly, "I didn't want to go to Brandon. I was trying to keep it secret in case anything happened."

"A wise decision. News would have traveled fast if you had, and the Elders surely would have acted."

I take a deep breath. The danger is real. Our own leaders, protectors, are against us. I'm hanging by a thread, Pittacus's revelation proves that. If I'd gone to Brandon I'd probably be dead now…I don't want to run. But I can't fight them. Not yet. Ronnie's face flashes through my head, but I resign myself to my fate.

"How are we going to do this?"

Pittacus nods, approving of my decision. "Come with me. We'll start with a short lesson on your Vanirs. Since I won't be able to train you after you leave, we'll fit in as much as we can. We'll talk while we work."