Darbone - Legend of The Four. C. Michael Neely

had some genetic mishap shaping his looks. His mind, and heart, were another matter. He was, in fact, Argyle's closest and dearest friend—honorable, tenacious, and sincere.

      "Your parents told me you might be out here", he said. "I've been sent to find you."

      "Find me? For what?" Argyle responded.

      "There is to be a ceremony next week in preparation for your journey. We have much to do now, Argyle. There is little time to spare."

      Argyle pondered the words of his friend, and the gravity of the matter—and his new role in all of it—hit him like a flash of bright light. There was much to do. But what, exactly?

      "The Master wants to see you today," Jordan said. "I have been assigned to you to help you prepare." He smiled.

      Argyle looked him in the eyes. "Then prepare is what we shall do," he said. The two turned back towards the village, and continued down the beach, talking and laughing. Argyle was comforted by his friend's participation. It was a good distraction from the negative aspects of the situation. This was a serious time for everyone on the Island, and Argyle had no time to be selfish. It wasn't really his nature anyway.

      The master had given Jordan many of the old scriptures to study with Argyle. There seemed to be much more to all of this than he realized. His brother had never spoken of what he knew of the journey. They studied day and night. Reading the documents, and going over the rituals for the Gathering at the Tower of Darbone. There were specific tasks for all of the Chosen Ones, and everyone would have their own part to play when the time came. For now, the time had come for Argyle to take the first steps. The ceremony was tomorrow. He would leave in two days. He knew he had the physical abilities. He was a strong fighter. But his spiritual stature was not as stable or solid as his brother's had been. All his life he had questioned the church, and the leaders, and even God Himself. This was especially true in recent days. Nevertheless, he was true to his values, and his family, and would never let them down, regardless of his own perspective about spiritual matters. This task was far greater than him, and it was an honor to be chosen. He knew this, and would not only represent his kind, he would honor his family and his brother's life in taking on this responsibility. This was his destiny, and it was now clearer than ever. However the Universe revealed it to him, it was his, and his alone.

      He ate quietly at the table that evening with his mother and father. Small talk about his preparations was about all that was said. Mostly by his mother, making certain he had packed his provisions properly. His father was more concerned with his gear, weaponry, and the like. The food was good. Better than usual, although it was nothing out of the ordinary. It just seemed liked he was tasting the meal for what it was. His family's way. His mother's cooking. Familiar and warm. Something he would not have for many months to come. He slept well that night, waking only to his mother sitting at the end of his bed in the morning.

      "I made you some biscuits," she said. "With your favorite jam. Come down when you're ready." Then she left.

      He sat up on the edge of the bed and looked out at the ocean. The sun was squeezing through dark clouds on the horizon. Storms were approaching from the west. Maybe they'd be through by the time he was to leave tomorrow. He could hear other voices downstairs, and as he entered the room, he could see Jordan and his father discussing the details of the day's ceremonial proceedings. The master had already laid out what Jordan was to do, and the first thing was to make certain that Argyle was not late.

      "Good morning, Argyle," Jordan said. He was always optimistic, and exceptionally happy in the mornings. And while this could be annoying at times, this morning, Argyle found it comforting.

      "Good morning, Jordan my friend," he said. "I suppose you are making sure I don't back out at the last minute." He laughed.

      "Never crossed my mind," said Jordan. "We do have to be there a tad early, so that there's enough time for everyone to arrive for the ceremony, and the Master wanted to have a brief word with you beforehand as well. Last minute instructions or something of the like I'm sure," he said.

      "Then we shan't disappoint him,” said Argyle. “Eat up Jordan, we've got to get going."

      #

      Argyle gathered his things, so carefully stacked at the door, and embraced his father and mother. "I'll see you at the ceremony," he said. He and Jordan set off down the path towards the church, where the bells had already begun ringing. They didn't sound like regular church bells, but more like ancient metal gongs. Powerful, endless ringing washing through his soul. He could feel the vibrations in his bones. The sound they made was significantly different today. It was like they were vibrating a message from the Universe. So much so that when Argyle closed his eyes, he could see the vibrations resonating in purple and blue washes through his mind, like the souls of spirits calling to him and passing through him simultaneously. Argyle reached into his sporran and pulled out a small leather pouch. The leather was made from white rabbit from the eastern mountains of the Island. It was the only place in the world that this creature was found. They are said to have magical powers of protection and wisdom. Inside the pouch were two stones. One was a clear, naturally-formed crystal with perfectly pointed ends. The second was a rough, purple stone. Unfinished, dirt was even trapped within its rough surface. It had twenty sides, and on each side was a different rune. Argyle's father had given the stones to him after his brother had passed. It is these very stones that generations of Chosen Ones had carried with them for wisdom and protection, and for the Tower ritual. The twenty-sided stone was significant for this ritual, and the one who carried it, carried great responsibility for his people. The others coming would have similar stones, with similar powers, and all imperative in their role.

      He placed the stones back in the pouch and slipped it back into his sporran. He took a deep breath and made his way to the church door. Jordan was already there, holding it open for his friend, smiling as always. Light cut through the doorway and into the darkness inside the church like magical beams. The others had not arrived just yet, and Argyle could hardly see inside. The white coral altar was dressed with lit candles, sea oat flowers, and an enormous book opened to a specific section. In front of the altar, the Master was kneeling in silence with his head bowed and his back to Argyle.

      He spoke, "Master Jordan, if you don't mind, I will need a word with Argyle alone please."

      "Yes, Master," said Jordan, and he made his way back out the door, gently closing it behind him. The rays of light vanished and the warm glow of the candles filled the space with a quiet calmness that Argyle was almost distracted by, as if each candle flame was a soul unto itself. The bell gong was growing faint as they had stopped, signifying the Chosen One had arrived. He approached the Master.

      "Be with me here, Argyle."

      Argyle bowed down to the right of the Master.

      "Argyle, you have prepared much, and all we can do in our preparation is gain the skills we need to address whatever situation may come. I know that you are ready, and that you would not be here beside me at this moment if you were not." He turned to look at Argyle. His eyes were glowing with a faint blue light. Argyle had never seen anything like it, and was startled, but amazed at the same time. The Master asked, "Do you have the stones with you?"

      "Yes," responded Argyle. He reached into his sporran, and brought out the pouch, handing it to the Master. The Master said a few words, that Argyle did not understand, and then he held the pouch high above his bowed head. Argyle watched in awe. The candles grew brighter and brighter. The bells gave a single tone ring, and in a sudden flash of light, all of the candles went out. All but one. The candle in front of Argyle remained lit and undisturbed. Placing the pouch in front of Argyle, The Master picked up the candle and handed it to Argyle and spoke.

      "Within this flame are the souls of all of the Chosen Ones before you. You carry a tradition that is far greater than us all, and is one that defines our culture and place within the Universe. This place in the Universe is kept safe by the balance we keep with this ritual quest we have created with the other species of the world. It is sacred. It is greater than yourself. But most importantly, you are the vessel to carry our burden to the Tower of Darbone. No one but you can make this journey for our people. You must believe in yourself every step of the way, even when you