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The Message of The Stones: Winds of Time
The Message of The Stones: Winds of Time
The Message of The Stones: Winds of Time
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The Message of The Stones: Winds of Time

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Come along on this fantasy adventure with Drew and his closest friends, commissioned by a king to lead the next generation of the gifted, on an incomprehensible journey toward an unimaginable future. 


Will Drew find his way through the maze of hidde

LanguageEnglish
Release dateSep 8, 2023
ISBN9781960758378
The Message of The Stones: Winds of Time

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    The Message of The Stones - B.G. Simpson

    9781960758378-cover.jpg

    B.G. SIMPSON

    The Message of The Stones

    Copyright © 2023 by B.G. Simpson

    All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.

    ISBN

    978-1-960758-36-1 (Paperback)

    978-1-960758-37-8 (eBook)

    Table of Contents

    The Surprise

    Part 2

    City of the Aqua Rings

    The Hunt

    The Wedding

    The Visitors

    The Disappearance

    Mission of the Stones

    The Discovery

    Training

    I Am My Father’s Daughter

    Prologue

    Second Generation Circle

    Afterword

    1

    THE SURPRISE

    The Circle made plans to return to the star ship before the sky would turn black with those creatures not of earth. Torack, and his Aquerian soldiers, readied themselves for the trip to the stars. They had served their purpose and knew it was time to go back to their synonymous world. The battle would continue another day, but without the Circle of present. This was not their fight. They were only here for their teacher, and to help Robert and his son assist Gabriel through Anna’s intuition. Time was running out of this quickly fading clock—as earth’s sundial carried its shadow towards her final breath. They were pulled through the Winds of Time.

    ***

    Everyone left in the cabin felt the misery of the night. The heavens had opened up without mercy. The muddy fields in front were filled with memories of war and blood and violence of this day behind, as it waged out payment like cursory conduits of the dead. The battle before laid heavy on each ones heart—only a bleak light filled the few that remained. Death had left her scars upon this earth from fleeting footprints. She had mounted her biggest protest, redeemed of weather moving to and fro as the black of the night took over denuded of life.

    Anna called the airport that night. She put the phone down with a sense of despair. The airport was washed away, She said, and most of the planes have been turned away to land somewhere else. Each member of membership held to the breath of life branded in the rhythms of malevolent storm. Their memories of the violence left a cursory mark on each one’s life, as each member would never again see life in quite the same way.

    ***

    It happened in the middle of the night—something slammed up against the door of the cabin splintering pieces everywhere, dismembering the door from off its hinges. No one stood watch that night, of course, Dr. Zimmerman had fallen asleep sat up quickly when jolted by this rude interruption of peaceful slumber. He was drained by an emotional appeal of hanging to close to this friend they called death. The professor almost fell out of his chair when seeing an archaic figure, leaning in towards a day already gone. Standing in affirmed erection was an image remembered too hard to forget. The wind beat against its face in darker dimensions of a battle just hence. The rain came in at an angle changing the shadowing of moods. And this creature held by pressing disfigurement, of wide shoulders of motionless movement and pervading fog like breath. His head hung low as incrustations of the previous day clung to his body as the night’s cold chill set in his sway. Tommy, second to rise, sensed deaths grip when movement passed the door gave hint that this fight wasn’t over. A warrior, stoically stood for the many who’d lost their lives of a day gone hereafter. He capitalized his dealings not to leave for another time, shown by burning aggression in deep socket eyes of a motionless face. He was on a mission of retribution. The look of malign emotion pressed heavy in the eyes of this tall sinister being. He was of darker shadows with wings reflected of ash burned hot from this place he had been. His lips were a darker color of black and his frame was shadowed by gloomier shades of gray. Fists gripped like clubs of an immutable focus on something of a greater importance burned from memory of another day. From Tommy’s perspective this time felt different. James, moving in, stood to face physically, nonplussed by his mass, focused on his mission. Suddenly, realizing this enemy was waiting to make his move on the smaller of warriors. James quickly turned into his heavenly form pushing Tommy aside with a slight glance to warn others.

    With fixated clarity, Tell Drew to take my father and the others and leave this place... this is not meant for this Circle of friends. James said, being quickly angered by how bad his father had been treated. These creatures had taken him to the edge of life. James was done settling for this creatures submissions of authority. He developed a sullen look glazed in his eyes.

    You’re not leaving this place! Cornelius said causing a hesitant stance in James direction, You and your father will die this night, even if my life is to be taken in exchange.

    Thaliana, from the top of the loft jumped down, and made her way towards the dismembered door. A complete shambles by what she could see. The door had been splintered apart leaving them vulnerable to the elements. She glared at this beast who’d entered their world seeing a misanthropy fix in his eyes. She drew her dagger in readiness. James turned to catch her glance.

    This is my fight. He said. Protect the others. Have Drew take them home!

    Thaliana knew he was referring to the star ship back in Ohio where they had left it. Without a second thought, James with Skittles moved with deployment. A twisting tumultuous flare of bodies lunged into the obscurity of muck and rain. James could feel the strength of Cornelius as if his body was made of bronze, and heavy like mortar. He pushed James back before rolling to a standing position. His libertine image walked slowly back and forth surveying his rival, expelling an over confident presence. He placed his hands at his sides as if giving his own personal credence time to understand this smaller warrior, a representation of a king no less. This noxious enemy scoffed at his rival, who insisted on fighting in a father’s place. James’s emotions spilled over in the rage of the moment for he did not know what to do next.

    Young warrior you are no match for me! Cornelius ranted loudly, You’re a spoiled boy who has no future here! Why do you insist on fighting one that’s thousands of years ahead of your time? Your trickery is not a ploy or any appeal of my sense of humor.

    James stood his ground, thinking about what Thaliana had talked about, using his memories of recent battle moves that he had seen before toward his clever enemy. His aberrant understanding of Bruce Lee flashed in memory from watching so many kicks, and sweeps of the leg, and his quick understanding of infused mind-over- matter.

    Cornelius saw the flutter of eyes as if trajectories permeated his senses. He moved toward the younger warrior, turning his head side-to-side while shaking his hands. He prepared to brush off this insignificant bug that intruded in on his territory. James would not let the prideful beast with wings of taunting gestures, affect his focus.

    Oh, I see, young student you wish to be taught a lesson. Well, I can accommodate your wish if need be, so you can stop this dismal display of man-hood! I then, can get on with my real purpose here. Cornelius pulled his sword from beneath its sheath still dulled with blood from another end of his kind. James stepped back and released his golden whip. The Indian princess stood on the porch watching from behind with an expression of terror set in her eyes.

    Face forward, James had a kaleidoscope of Bruce Lee images flashed before his mind in small glitches of movement. He moved quicker than ever thought possible, first, going left with a shuffle of his feet, and then going right instead. He cracked his whip across the bigger warrior’s face. A trickle of blood lined his skin in vindictive form.

    Cornelius reached for his cheek surprised by the sudden lash of violence.

    Nice move, young warrior...something taught by the Indian princess?

    James didn’t answer. He only prepared for his next move to not lose focus. His well-schooled training led him to move with constant fakes. This changed his projected timing mid-stream. Cornelius came in at an angle to his left, missing with sword by inches. James flashed back one step, spun in the air catching the better trained warrior’s right cheek with his right foot. Cornelius lost his footing and fell backward with hands flaring unaware. Anger caused him to quickly rise and lunge again. James’s luminary face set with pliable penance whipped outwardly with a blazing of air. He kept to balanced movements, unblinking, absorbed in his thinking, keeping to the inside of a better attitude, and only showing his good side, while staying up to par for future retribution. He was the man of the hour, and even though he did not tower over this enemy, he was ready and totally steady to make his mark—his confidence, his pose, and position were all pointing him towards pliancy to his cause, for he gave not an inch to this powerful creature in front of him. James matched movement with movement, force with force, as if taunting this larger warrior to move in with his sword, like Mohammad Ali dancing in response. And then that slogan flashed before his eyes. He took full advantage of this new strength and picked up his pace.

    From the porch, Thaliana wondered what her new student was up to. Why was he trying to challenge this older warrior of a different world? And when would this showmanship of bravery be over?

    James eluded this creature of another world with counter blows as his imagination took him to another level. He whipped and turned and spun about as his constant changes of a different rhythm caused confusion to this over confident enemy. James was using his creativity. He faked left went right, stood his ground not giving into his taunting gestures of this fight. He used artificial sounds and quirky antidotes going off in his head. He had Cornelius so muddled and flustered he started over reacting for balance, while throwing him off even more. James became overwhelming with his acrobatic nature, with his whip lashing out he pulled the sword from his enemy’s hand, slinging it across the meadow into the coruscated light that flickered in his head. It splashed and slid with a gentle thud. Cornelius quickly spun into the air with his wings close to his body, but then released his wings at full extension when closing in on his enemy, knocking James across the swampy meadow. The air had been pushed from his lungs, and blood started to ooze from his shoulder and face, where the sharp talons on the end of his wings had caught him. He tried to rise up, but still unable. He lay in heavy breathing as he sunk low in puddles of rain and mud and the flow of blood. The water and wind took him to the end of self-confidence. Cornelius retrieved his sword that had been pulled from his hand. He ran his course with uneven strides, for the morning soon to come reflected remittance of a day of war, as the dead left their reminders in the field once graced with swords. Cornelius heaved his sword high and brought it low, as he slashed at the water and wind and earth hidden beneath puddles of rain and mud and the darkness of fading night. Coming down hard he made his point, with sword and shield and unrestrained control as he missed his mark by inches. His eyes flared quickly looking in the direction of this smaller version of an enemy. For something taught to him he had missed. James rolled to the left, then got up quickly, and planted both his feet unrelenting. Cornelius’s face moved surprisingly as James brought his boots up and kicked Cornelius in the face. This caused James to smile, at least for a moment, and then he moved again, to bring his point to a head.

    Can’t face the music big boy? James said, as he implied while staying in stride, with a sense of taking it to him. Enticed to bring harm to this enemy, Cornelius lunged, and cut James across the arm, leaving behind a trail of blood washed thin by the mix of wind and rain. He looked down at his arm now bleeding, not recognizing cautioning warnings of losing strength. James was pushed by adrenaline. His protector jumped into the fight to help in protecting. Skittles swept below so low with tail and stinger for this enemy in front was well seasoned, he was honed in from his years of experience. His protector, his honorite, made contact with the back of his leg. He yelled in fury from dark puddles of congregated rain, as the wind washed war of previous fury from across his face. It deluded his way of thinking. James was demurred of thought or rational thinking, sharpened his reactions of pain, washed over him from incomplete feelings, of falling behind slowly now revealing, while standing up for a father, complete with love, and remittance of confused reasoning, as a love of a son would have for a father, sliding to the lower end of confidence. He would stand till the end, without complaint or giving in to this fiend, even though having a lack of stamina. Cornelius grabbed for the lower end of his leg while losing his balance, falling over in splashes of muddled perception. James kept thinking he’d be lost in this dance with this devil, but for some reason his persistence started to pay off. He did a leg sweep while Skittles nailed Cornelius with spikes that lined up from the bottom of his tail. The combination of both warriors was giving no slack while taking it to him. The leader of the fallen slipped and lost his footing and hit the ground for the third time as this malefic creature splashed once again in puddles below. He laid there for a moment to catch his breath, as his brother Gabriel appeared around a corner of the cabin, as reflections caught him unstable. A brother of his youth was surely able to throw a net over the younger and tied him secure. Still standing, James spits blood from injuries while lost in the sounds of rain.

    Nice to see you have my back... James said, as he slightly turned his head. His focus was insistent, thinking he was being tested for a future scuffle he wasn’t sure he could win.

    Cornelius looked up at his competitor. What was this? You won’t be so lucky when we meet again, like they’d ever be friends. James’s eyes glazed over considering this aged warrior, yet brushed it off as a trivial trail for he was here to make an impression. And who needed friends like this? He glanced at Gabriel before turning around, walked toward the light of the cabin, staggering to keep his balance. He was a bit shaky, spent to the max, and wasn’t sure what would come next. He left the two brothers to sort their differences, and pulled himself toward the splintered entrance.

    Behind him, James left a trail of dripping blood and mud through fading darkness and reached for the stairs. He saw the look from Thaliana right away. She didn’t look happy, and he felt kind of drained—so he stayed quiet. She leaned in to help him. He carefully walked up the last few steps supported by a shoulder as Tommy ran out to help him. Once inside, James stumbled in a heap of depleted energy, while looking up wondering Thaliana’s frame of mind. James had been pushed by anger stirred in bunches and mixed up with other fading emotions. They started to fade as he sat down strung out across the floor. His mind had filled with thoughts of revenge for a father mistreated, yet now he was safely home. Why he was taken away didn’t make any sense. His hands shook and his focus was gone. He wanted answers—but where would they come from? He crossed his arms and closed his eyes and turned back to his natural size. Two Circle members and two Aquerian soldiers just looked at him. He lay at the opened end of the room on display in the casting of shadows flickered of light. His arms and face dripped with blood slowly rolling down to his fingers, leaving a puddle under his feet. From across the room, Thaliana was trying to figure out why she was left out of this little scuffle of personal agendas. She had no patience for egos, of immature boys that couldn’t keep their heads to a better way of thinking. Her student of war had left her in the dark. She didn’t like it. Someone had made plans that didn’t include her leadership. She took a deep breath to hold back the anger, depleted of patience, running out of time, thought about doing something different. Then she looked at him. After a minute going by, she thought to teach him a lesson or smack him in the head. James opened one eye and looked at her, like a one eyed bird seeing from a different perspective. The tides were suddenly changing as he started getting dizzy, just before the conversation got stranger. She stood to look at him, with arms on her hips, confused or mad, he couldn’t tell, then losing her words.

    I’m sorry...James said. I know I should have said something. She raised an eyebrow as she looked with dread wondering if he was stupid, and all these antidotes came popping into her head—she didn’t know how to say them. He was a student. She was a teacher. He made mistakes. She corrected his errors. James sensed a scolding coming. He considered her frame of mind. He was caught in this pickle of misunderstanding. James was standing tall on the short end of the stick. He would take this verbal beating, while dripping blood and crud and tendrils of running mud. Couldn’t this wait? While James sat fiercely depleted sprawled out on the floor—he thought to shed a little light on the subject and do the right thing in the right manner, but then he stopped. He was facing an adversary of a dual he could not win. Yet his heart, his body, and his mind were starting to melt between thin lines of awareness. The love of a father, the love of friends, he was finished—so who was listening?

    Thaliana scolded him for his bad behavior. I don’t get this... what do you need to prove? She said, You’re not ready for this type of a challenge. You could have been killed. Her eyes flashed at the others before continuing. Cornelius was toying with you. You’re worth more to him alive than dead! Do you get it?

    James eyes showed a placating smile while trying to get a word in edge wise. He was slowly melting between thin lines of confusion. He shook he head to clear his thinking.

    But—I can’t—you see... let me explain myself! He yelled. Thaliana crossed her arms and huffed out air as she looked with an odious scowl. So explain yourself, you over excited young fool!

    James was speechless for the moment, realizing she was not reachable, for she was the teacher not teachable. Come on, he thought, an Indian princess from a cloudless realm no less, caught in a battle of all battles standing confused. She was the last line of defense in a defenseless world, while showing a heated face, then paused, and looked again. She wouldn’t listen to him or change her plans as she continued to move her hands, nervously. Her right eye started twitching, which caused James to smile, but no... he couldn’t make fun of her.

    Next time you go out on a limb, I’m leaving you at the mercy of those creatures—you got me? Thaliana said.

    James looked around the room while blinking back the blood running in his eyes as to no surprise—this was crazy. They didn’t seem to care that blood was dripping from his hair, down his face, and off his arms. James looked up and shook his head, wondering if he would be better off dead.

    Okay, I’m sorry... He said. It’s just that Gabriel said it would be a good training thing for me. He thought, maybe this would be a good way to lure his brother into an unnatural fight, giving him a false sense of advantage, of course, not giving way to no intimidation on my part. He said, like he wasn’t quite sure of his words. He stammered as an unnatural pulse pounded in the back of his head. His eyes began to blur and his mouth went dry. This was a trap set in motion. James said, while reaching for his head. That’s the only reason why I agreed to Gabriel’s little arrangement of confrontation. James was still trying to get his composure, blinked his eyes and ran his fingers through his hair. Not surprised everything started turning dark. He took a deep breath and held it in. Can I get a towel, somebody? He looked up after saying. As he noticed no one was looking at him.

    Tommy left the room to assist. He came back with a wet towel, and a first-aid kit. Everyone else was focused on the topic of conversation, alone, and not on his quickly fleeting condition. Something else crossed a divided line of further confusion. He blinked and looked up to notice Tommy staring. Thank you, while lowering his eyes again in all the confusion. Tommy had handed James a bag of ice to drape over the back of his head.

    You don’t need to worry about what Gabriel thinks. He’s not responsible for you! Thaliana said. I am. She paused. You answer to me alone. If you two get anymore crazy ideas let me know what’s going on! Do you understand?

    James saw the acumen reflected in her eyes, a rush of heat was seen in her face. She looked like she wanted to reach over and slap him. That’s what happens between family members when reaching out to help them sometimes—surprisingly there can be friction. That’s the last time he would be so bold. He recognized her anger and brushed it off to not trust her so willingly.

    Okay, I’m sorry. I won’t do anything else of that sort ever again. He gently said as he was unaware it held a deeper meaning. Then James added a bit of sarcasm since he was already in trouble, and lately trouble appeared at every corner he insisted. You’re in charge your highness—I mean you’re the boss applesauce. And out of nowhere came giggles from the loft. And an air of disconnected confusion followed. Then someone laughed with a line of stuttered giggles.

    Thaliana rolled her eyes and looked at James, astonished like he had caused this interruption from above—he was lost in her deep penetrating stare. She glared in surprise and considered his departure on short notice was to begin. James perceived everyone taking their turns going in and out of the bathroom, like nothing had stirred them from their everyday wares. Thaliana stood unblinking. James wondered if heaven had bi-polar people who stood, medicated, congregated together to be treated. Then he smiled and looked at her. So, what’s really going on here? Thaliana asked.

    James looked up like an injured soldier. Nothing’s going on. He raised his hands as if saying he surrendered, he was whipped, pushed to the side was his personal feelings, which appeared not to matter, was his thinking, go ahead shoot me with one of your arrows, was the look.

    Thaliana stood confused by the overhead giggles coming from the second floor. She looked up and rolled her eyes. The sounds above were insistent. James glanced up in the same direction, confused, pushed to the side, sitting on the back end of the bench, knowing he had bad timing. He quickly lost his words from being spent. As if this bad timing was the cause, and wrinkled what little part of his face, that held feeling.

    Hey, you guys...want to please quit laughing up there, you’re getting me in trouble with our princess. He said. She thinks I’m up to no good!

    Don’t call me that, Thaliana said, I’m not your princess. It’s rude to say my title in such a way.

    Wow... James said, Call a heaven mall-cop and haul me off to jail.

    There were more giggles from above. Everyone but Bella seemed to find it amusing. She was lying on the bed opposite Anna. Then Anna looked over the balcony in her sleepwear, and then Drew popped his head up. Hey James, what’s happening down there?

    James was surprised to see Drew above with the two young ladies in tow. He hoped to protect what was remaining of their reputations, along with all this confusion. Then James smiled, knowing it was all a big mistake and he was interrupting something that held personal meaning.

    A growing smirk crossed his face, inquired by stares misplaced in all the misconception. Well, I guess I could ask the same of you, but I’d prefer it, if you please, tell Thaliana your reasons for your laughter. She assumes the worst of me and my conditions, and I’d hope she would remove her non-trusting stare, given notice of my condition of bleeding all over the place!

    This statement caused Thaliana to recognize James condition and then she felt sorry. She was so absorbed by her role as teacher. She’d forgotten the fight had taken quite a bit from him.

    Drew smiled and then laughed. Oh, yes...Thaliana, Anna was...I was... we were just playing around up here.

    Thaliana smiled in a peculiar sort of way and said, These thin walls have ears and mouths that hang too close together—maybe you two need to seek a bit of privacy.

    Drew and Anna disappeared again beneath the warmth of giggles and over friendliness. Their moments of sharing seemed to be on a personal level, conveyed through their mutual giddy bond of sharing—treating the sorts of others as nothing important. Dr. Zimmerman came out of the bedroom from down stairs, and looked up wondering what was up with all the laughter.

    Why all the noise, young people, can’t an old man take his rest without this annoying commotion?

    More giggles from the loft. Dr. Zimmerman developed a peculiar stare towards the loft with a raised eye-brow.

    For heaven’s sake! What are those children doing up there?

    James sat up straight after bending towards the table. Thank the Indian princess. She thinks I can’t keep my wits about me—what about them?

    Thaliana looked to the loft again after another barrage of laughs and giggles.

    Oh my, what a peculiar couple they are. Is he hurting her beneath one’s covers?

    Dr. Zimmerman stopped suddenly then and raised both eye-brows. What one does beneath ones covers usually wouldn’t cause any harm.

    Thaliana had incomprehension written in her eyes from the well-educated Dr. Zimmerman. His point of view on such things of love gave the impression of being a bit baffling. He scratched the top of his head and directed himself back into the bedroom. Drew popped his head up again while Bella threw a pillow his way, hitting him in the head. Drew took another peep over the balcony, and saw several members standing and listening. Too many giggles from the second floor had drawn their interest, and then he understood.

    Hey guys it’s not like that, we were just playing around—I mean we’re not doing anything of that sorts—she’s laughing at something I said, not anything— Drew is cut off mid-sentence with another barrage of giggles, as Anna pulled him again toward the bed. They had been talking about how she saw Drew’s face held a peculiar expression, when he had what they called Bewanja berries from their new home beyond the stars, a particular fruit produced there. She explained his face looked terrified and puckered at the same time, as if sucking on a lemon with a moment of constipation. Drew didn’t see the humor, but Anna thought it was hysterical. She pulled Drew’s face towards her and kissed him. She was acting the part of a school-girl who appeared not to have her wits about her. Realizing he was more than just some silly boy she fell in love with. He was like a Guardian, one who saves lives—not from any particular place of importance, but in her reasoning, he was an angel of the human species. He was placed in her life at the perfect time, in the perfect way, to be strung along to become a part of her everyday living. He was someone special to her now, something worth saving, and someone looked at as being short of a miracle. This distinctive love of theirs reached into parts of her soul, which was not comprised by any condition except to love and share every moment of life. He reminded her of how the gaps in her life from previous had been buried like jagged pieces of glass now removed, never again to feel incomplete, never again to feel left behind in the shadows of pain endured.

    ***

    Robert got up with all the noise and decided to start his day at five O’clock in the morning. Besides, he couldn’t sleep with the entire racket going on, thanks to the couple in the loft, and the skirmish of the front door being removed. He thought to start his day before being taken over by aliens or possible some other rude interruption that would test the last bit of his patience. He moved away from the big city to get away from this type of living, and somehow it had followed him back. What was he thinking that this would be the perfect place for an old man to get some rest?

    He put on a pot of coffee and opened the ice-box surprised to see fresh meat, seen by the chunks of red tenderness draped over a shelf. He pulled that and a carton of eggs from the bottom shelf. The noise in the kitchen caused others to stir. Torack came up from the floor below in the basement, scratching what looked like the back end of a hidden place. Robert wasn’t sure what he was scratching—that particular area appeared to be unguarded by what he was wearing. Robert removed his eyes from Torack so not to catch his glance. He was dressed in something you might see thrown over a donkey to keep him warm. He’d never seen his new friend dressed like

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