The Glimmering Rose: Part 1 The Tranquility of Night

By D.T. Pirkle

A nuclear war ends life on earth, and a secret society called Zion survived underground by sealing their doors. One hundred years passed by, and a new generation began to see the beautiful and prosperous city they would inherit one day; however, they felt no reason to change themselves. They believe Zion's belief systems are no longer applicable and seek to replace them. When heavy secrets come to light, they begin to see the leadership as an evil tyrant and seek to save the ones they love and tear down the evil leadership--only to find out a little too late that, maybe, it was them who was wrong all along.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Newman Springs Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Dec 21, 2023
• ISBN: 9798890612717

Book preview

Table of Contents

Title

Copyright

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

About the Author

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The Glimmering Rose

Part 1 The Tranquility of Night

D.T. Pirkle

Copyright © 2023 D. T. Pirkle

All rights reserved

First Edition

NEWMAN SPRINGS PUBLISHING

320 Broad Street

Red Bank, NJ 07701

First originally published by Newman Springs Publishing 2023

ISBN 979-8-89061-270-0 (Paperback)

ISBN 979-8-89061-271-7 (Digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Message from Author

Thank you to anyone willing to even look this book's way. It is a blessing you would consider reading this; however, there also must be a warning. This book is not for the faint of heart and not for those who are not ready to embark on a long and treacherous journey. Deep calls to deep, so continue at your own peril.

When you look up at the night sky,

Does your imagination wander?

Sights of awe and colors never before seen.

Or a smell, never known, fit for a Queen.

Can you hear the planet that sings alone?

Wind diving down through valleys,

Racing up to mountain peaks.

Endless harmony, it seems, the wind seeks.

A world that is so full of flora and fauna,

as they all leap and bound in abundance.

Can you see the rose of translucent crystal,

glimmering a rainbow as the wind whistles?

Can you see the blanket of the universe?

The void beyond, can we traverse?

Behold wonders forbidden to man's sight,

When you calmly gaze up at the starry night.

Chapter 1

It's a dark and snowy night with at least a foot of snow already on the ground. You barely see anything as snow heavily falls around you. The dark-blue sky, with an even darker tree line underneath it, sits as the backdrop, and below that is a dimly lit cabin. A few dim lights behind curtained windows on both sides of the front door guide you to the cabin. A gust of wind and snow blows hard, and the cold seeps deep into your body.

Crunch. Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.

The snow crunching as you tread your way to the door with great effort, and upon arriving at the door, you knock desperately. You hear an old, worn man's raspy voice, Whoa…easy there, not so fast. Take it slow—the man grunts—give me…one…moment…

The older gentleman's voice strains aloud as if he was not expecting a guest so soon.

You hear the rattling of chains, twisting of locks, and the front door opens, and the dark reveals (at the pace of the opening door) something you can see. The voice belongs to a man, mid-late sixties, and he is about 6′4″ and a solid 200-something pounds of muscle. This man has a glorious black beard covering his face with much gray splashed throughout the beard and a head of hair, brushed back, to match.

He is a broad stature of a man that very few men ever could hope to achieve in their lives. His raspy voice speaks volumes of years of hardship, loss, love, and a life lived to the fullest. His brown eyes are soft, those that are fierce yet gentle, passionate yet worn, and he has the wrinkles around his eyes to testify he spent a great deal of his time smiling.

Aah, yes, here we go. My apologies, I did not expect you until later, he says as he slowly opens the door. A gentle smile seems to always be present on his face, even as he speaks.

He seems so calm and gentle as if he were never made aware that he was so strong and tall, yet always standing straight, shoulders back and bold, never slumping nor slouching.

Let me show you where we will be staying for the time, he says as you walk in the door and he shuts it behind you, only locking the deadbolt and causing you to notice a beautiful old watch on his wrist.

Before you realize what you are doing, a cold chill comes from deep in your body, causing you to have a shiver strong enough to shake off some of the snow that had collected on you onto the floor.

Laughing, the older gentleman starts back.

Don't ya go worryin' about no snow getting anywhere. Come on in now and get warmed up, ya hear, he says playfully. Don't go on bein' timid, the gentleman says as he ushers you into his home.

Whilst walking into the home, you immediately recognize the warmth and familiarity of the living room. It feels like what a home should feel like, but how could you possibly explain what that feels like? Directly in front of the door, on the other side of the room, is a stone fireplace with a small but very passionate fire burning away. The flames seem to dance happily together. There is a mantle with photos of what must be friends and family and a backdrop of a black stone wall. Not much is on the wall, but there are some pictures of babies and some of, what appears to be, other families.

In front of the fireplace are two dark-red leather chairs, angled facing toward each other whilst facing away from the fireplace and, instead, facing the door. Between the chairs and the door you came in at (facing the fireplace) is a black leather couch.

Between the pair of chairs and the black couch is a small wood-grain table with a lit candle, vanilla, in the center and a small stack of coasters waiting to be used. There is a very soft hint of a melody playing in the distance. You can't hear it unless you listen very closely while quiet and still.

If one were to sit on the black couch and look left, one would see a large window and the outside view on the other side. The view is that of a small yard that blended into a thick forest. Beyond that are the snowy mountains. The sun has long been gone, the sky mixed with many different streaks of black and dark blue. To the right side of the couch is the kitchen, with an island bar dividing the two rooms. He takes your coat and hangs it on a coatrack by the door.

The man guides you to the couch to sit down, and as you do, you look back the way you came. You see the wall is full of photos of people having fun, people working, and people posing together joyfully. You sit down on the couch facing the gentleman and the fireplace as he sits in the red chair on your left.

Yes, yes. Here we go. Now that we're here and getting settled in, let me formally introduce myself, he says as he rises to his feet once more and holds out his hand for a handshake.

You stand to greet him and shake his hand, and you both sit back down.

My name is Sylvester. Sylvester Mitismonstrum. He continues as you both sit back down again. My wife will be here any moment. She tells the story with me. You are here for the story, aren't you? She knows it better than I anyways. Speaking of which…

And as if right on cue, the deadbolt turns, and a frail small lady walks in.

Sylvester gets up, hurries over to his wife, takes off her jacket and purse before she can do it herself, and hangs both on a coatrack next to your coat. The lady is tiny and frail, and you can see she is terminally ill. You can see her veins through her pale and thin skin; her once-lush brown hair is thin and gray. Her eyes are full of life but testify to the loss she also has endured in her life. It is clear, even in her weakened state, that she is a fighter and not to be trifled with. Holding hands with her husband, she walks over to you; you watch your body rise to shake her hand. Her bony hand is as light as a feather and cold to the touch.

Hello, my dear, the gentle lady says as she shakes your hand.

After the handshake, she sits in the red chair on your right side as you sit back down again on the couch. The husband resumes his seat. She introduces herself, My name is Lily.

She squeals, jumping up suddenly excited, Where are my manners? Tea!

And she scurries over to the kitchen and turns the stove on and begins to prepare for tea. With tender eyes watching his wife in a scurry, Sylvester chuckles at her playful scene. He chimes in while glancing at you, She loves her tea for her guests. It has been so long since a guest has come along that she could care for.

He puts his hands on his knees, stands up, walks over to Lily, and puts a hand on her shoulder. She turns, looks up softly at him with an infatuated smile of adoration. They share a brief kiss, and she moves to sit back down in her chair. You can see her blushing, and she tries to hide it by reaching behind her chair and pulling out a blanket, sitting down, and covering herself with it to stay warm.

She begins to explain how they met, talking about how childish they were in the beginning with their love. Within a short time, Sylvester comes back with a tray with a teakettle and three teacups sitting on saucers. Still talking delightedly, Lily excitedly, in tiny, little bounces, moves her waist to the end of the chair and begins pouring the hot tea. She offers the first to Sylvester, then you, then her own, all while still talking and pulling out coasters for everyone to use. She wiggles back into her chair, pulling the blanket back up and over, and holding her tea with both her hands—all with a smile that radiates an infectious joy. She even offers you a blanket. She wraps up her story almost instantly and begins sipping on her tea cautiously.

Though the cup is hot in your hands, it does not burn. It spreads a warmth over you that causes you to raise the glass to your lips and take a sip. The hot tea heats up your chest as you drink it slowly. The heat is soothing, hits your belly, and starts sprouting across your body, warmth slowly seeping down into your very bones.

Delicious, isn't it? Lily asks as she happily notices the positive reaction you have to it. I made the recipe myself. The key ingredient is love! Ha! I know, I know! Silly! But how else can I put it? It really does make all the difference, she says as she glints a look over to Sylvester with a sly grin as if he was the physical embodiment of love itself.

Anyway! Lily proclaims loudly and sharply, snapping back to you. You are here for a different story! And good timing too, we can't stay up as late as we used to. It has been so long since anyone has last been by, and we have gotten much older. So I hope you can tell we are very happy to have you, as you are very likely the…

Immediately, Lily trails off as though she is about to say something very controversial; tears slowly well up in her eyes.

Anywho, Lily says, batting back the tears fiercely, you came here for the story, and, my dearest, we have not even started yet! Please forgive us for not being more considering of your very limited time. Tears now gone, Lily returns to her chipper self, smiling. Let us begin.

Chapter 2

Lily's demeanor changes from a giddy old lady to that one of a solemn nature now as she begins.

"The year was 2199, and the story takes place in a city called Zion. The most secret society ever to exist in the world had been around for thousands of years, a sanctuary for humanity, hidden in a deep underground cavern that was larger than most cities. Zion only occupied a small portion of the massive cavern it stayed in. Zion had to seal its doors due to a nuclear