Aria's: Acquiescence

Aria’s: Acquiescence

Gryphon Xavier Tayle

Imagine you had the power of a god. Cause that’s what coursed through my little noggin when I wasn’t stuck with more pressing issues.
Namely, becoming the next Bearer.
Tomorrow was the big day, and I was mentally falling apart in anxiety. I needed to be a Bearer… but that didn’t mean I wanted to be one. And as these thoughts ravaged my mind, my feet stole me through the evening’s silent alleyways until I found my target -- an inconspicuous grate in the floor.
The portal was little more than a perfect steel square, which withheld the contents of the sewers to everyone but the guys interested. Hence, my little excursion.
But it was also where my journal, the most important book to me, was stashed. With nothing but the shadows to guide me, I snuck in the dank veins of the city’s underbelly while groping and clawing my way to the hideout.
  “Hmm,” my fingers caught hold of cold steel, and pressed against an unlocked door.
  I walked past a few hanging pipes, and sat behind my writing desk – Old Faithful. Resting on the center of the desk was my trusty journal, filled with all seventeen years of my life.
  I picked up the pen beside it and wrote down all that’d happened this past week—the eavesdropping, the peaking into Troy’s room, and the travel guide I had read two days ago.
  Whenever I came under, I would fantasize and daydream. It was my tranquil time, after all, and I made sure to take it very seriously.
So seriously in fact, that I’d been willing to get down and dirty for the sake of enlightenment.
While smirking to myself in pride – with knowledge of the pain I went through to achieve it -- I leaned over and pulled out the dark blue diary from the table’s side drawer. The journal was gently swept to the side to make room for the new member of the group.
“Amusing,” I said to myself while turning the first page.
  The book contained accounts of the experiences of a former Bearer. Each page contained extremely detailed scenes of the dangers, adventures and fun of being a Bearer, and the handwriting, oddly enough, was extremely similar to mine. In fact, the only difference was how the person dotted their i’s.
  After numerous days of snooping around home, I could feel my hunches of the diary’s owner getting more detailed. However, a solid confirmation in the form of a name or signature, had yet to ever grace me. Failures aside, I lowered my head, and imagination, into the world of the author.
“So.. yeah. I guess I’m writing a journal….
Wow, this feels really boring. Well then, since I have nothing better to talk about, why don’t I write about my life.
Dear older me, I’m a Bearer, now (yippee) and guess what -- I’ve finished eight Reises. I have to admit, though – it wasn’t that great. In the beginning you’re all yells and enthusiasm. You know, that ‘new broom’ sorta stuff. But pretty soon (and I mean soon), everything becomes… monotone. And the Torch is just as flat.”

Boy was I loving whoever this guy was.

“Oh, and guess what I found the other day! It was in the library – not that I go there often – but anyways, it was pretty much the most interesting thing I’ve ever laid eyes on. Heck, the cover alone was able to snatch my attention. Are you ready? For ‘Origin Armageddon.”

With a yawn and stretch of my biceps, I continued the writer’s tale:

“So really, the book was this huge piece of leather and paper about the theories of our creation story. And because of just how psyched I am to be writing all this, I’ll go ahead and explain exactly what I saw –
Remember that word you heard in the courtroom last week? Ancients.
Yeah, anyways, it turns out they really existed. Speculation has it that these four, super powerful beings, were the inhabitants of the early world. And apparently, they got so bored with being ‘head honchos’ that they began to experiment with their power. After that, the researchers say that slowly, the experiments of the Ancients broke down into three major things -- The Legends, living, breathing creatures that bred and swam around in the emptiness. They were similar to their creators and as time went, each of them began developing… and learning from their masters.
They were the Ancients’ first success. And after that accomplishment, the Ancients began creating playthings for themselves, and for their ‘children.’ These toys later became the Illuminati, the second things on the list. Historians say that the Illuminati were eternal trinkets to last as long as the forces which made them.”

Let me tell you now, your protagonist here was officially hooked. Not many books in the library kept me this entertained. And that’s saying something when you’ve read every book in the library.
It was a wonder I’d never found the one being talked about.

“Last to be fabricated was a playground to host the four people, their children, and their toys. These powerful resting places came to be known as the Isles. Further theories in the book suggested that Nexus was a cluster of Isles, considered to be an ‘Archipelago’. And one nutty professor said that there might even be more Archipelagos out there.”

‘Nutty professor’? Man, was this guy behind on the times, even considering the time it was written. I hadn’t heard that expression since I could reach the cookie cabinet.

“A few pages later, I found that gradually, as time passed, the Legends learnt from their parents, and made inventions of their own. They were dangerous weapons of incredible power that they used to usurp the Ancients.
And you know what that means – the thirteen of us Bearers are just hand-me-down users of some cosmic playthings. As cool as that sounds, the metaphorical paperwork can be a serious buzzkill in the fun.
Like that one time when I -- ”
 
The page ended with a smudge of wiped ink. It had been cleaned away by someone.
I wasn’t sure if it was the author who’d done it, or a fervent critic.
The second entry spoke of a watery sky, which hovered below floating earth. It spoke of a light-bearing tower, and creatures of immense power. Apparently, this Bearer had to swim to the very bottom, retrieve a sacred orb, and take it to go get fixed.
  “A thousand leagues,” it said.
    Each adventure I read of, seemed to submerge me in a land of hopes and dreams. But even with the idea of a great time, my true need to become a Bearer would never leave my mind. I shut the book silently, turned off the dangling lantern, and made my way back to the streets.
Maybe she didn’t write it.

  I strolled peacefully, beneath the night sky. My footsteps echoed softly against the paved roads while keeping my shaky thoughts in check. I climbed my way back to the roofs, and snuck along the dark horizon of Vyzins, my hometown. On my own rooftop, my figure slipped through the kitchen window -- the only one open -- and stole through candle lit corridors, until it arrived in my bedroom.
  Three years of waiting, and it was finally here.