Providence Prologue

PLEASE NOTE THE FOLLOWING BEFORE READING THE PROLOGUE:

For all of you readers out there I wanted to let you know, I did some research on names used in this story. I didn’t just make them up - they are real names, and I listed them with their meanings. I used all of them for a reason, and you’ll see why as the story progresses. Some may be obvious, some coincidental. More will be added as the story continues.

Aron – Hebrew; Enlightened

Aevar – Norse; Son of Ketil

Cantu – N/A

Duscha – Slavic; Divine Spirit

Eamon – Celtic/Gaelic; Wealthy Protector

Elizabeth – Hebrew; Blessed by God

Karina – Russian; Pure

Koen – German; Brave, Gallant

Rylan – English; Dweller of the Rye Land (this is in reference to prosperity)

Prologue

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Before the Great War, before the Roman Empire, even before dinosaurs roamed our earth, a profitable and flourishing planet rested galaxies away. Aevar, that once rivaled today’s earth, was notorious for its wealth and influence in its system. For centuries it profited: its water was clear and clean, its foliage plentiful, its inhabitants content. Few on Aevar went without, and for many years, all was good.

And while it was green and lush, the four smaller, accompanying planets in its system were barren. It was rumored through old tales that all five planets had at one time been equally beautiful, but Fate chose Aevar as its sovereign, stripping the other planets with harsh, acidic rains and yearlong droughts. It was believed that immigrants fled to Aevar for refuge, and eventually the planet was overrun and had to close its ports, offering instead compensation to the inhabitants of the doomed planets. Shipments of food and supplies were regularly sent out, and Fate took note of Aevar’s hospitality and kindness.

Over the years, the tales of Fate and Destiny became myth and legend. But the ruling family of Aevar did not waiver in their kind and just ways and the citizens of the barren, dune planets were never forgotten.

There lived a prophet who served as a counselor to the King of Aevar. Initially many believed this man to be dubious, but after many moons of loyal service he was able to prove his worth and allegiance to the King. He offered his guidance and intuition of certain aspects of politics. On several occasions, he received premonitions from Fate, which were meant to guide the King in his reign.

Often the prophet would appear at royal functions along side his King and many took this as a sign of equality, that the prophet was no longer a servant – but a religious leader of sorts. Many throughout the land and the five-planet system followed his teachings and traveled many miles to attend his lectures.

And as his popularity grew, the prophet found it increasingly difficult to maintain neutrality in his counsel to the King. An inner battle was fought inside him. He loved the King like a brother but also felt an overwhelming urge to maintain a sense of detachment. A crossroads was met: either relinquish his position in the royal court and pursue enlightenment, or maintain his position along with cultural influence and struggle with the envious and indulgent notions that continued to invade his mind.

Needing to clear his thoughts, the prophet set out alone to search his soul for the answer.

One evening while pondering this dilemma, Fate spoke to him. In the darkness of the cave where the prophet sat, Fate foretold an invasion of Aevar – a believed ally would betray the King and attempt to conquer its wealth. And alone, King Eamon would be helpless to stop this, and Aevar would fall. But Fate would not leave Aevar in its time of need. Because of its kindness and generosity towards those that suffered, Aevar would be given a most precious gift. It spoke of a visionary, an oracle that would soon be born. She would be strong in the ways of this world and the afterlife. She would be a link between the two, and would be Aevar’s only hope at salvation.

Fate spoke of a man that would follow the King after his untimely death. Aevar would be in chaos and this man would be a strong extension of the royal family. He would be a great warrior and official of the people. He would lead them into battle and guide them through the many hardships that Aevar was intended to face. And in the wake of tragedy, despair, and death this man would find his angel, the oracle, and Aevar would be saved. She would strengthen him, aid him, and attest to the virility of her soul and of Aevar.

The prophet was given a mission: protect this woman at all costs. Train her, guide her, and teach her. For if he failed, if she was compromised in any way, life on Aevar would end, and the five-planet system known as Rylan would parish. The future of Rylan depended on this one man and this one woman, and the prophet vowed that Destiny would not be unfulfilled.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

One year later…

He had finally found her. So many nights with disappointing outcomes, and finally after one year, he had found her. He had prayed for the day to come and Fate had not forgotten him. Now one year following the prophecy, the oracle had been born.

Ever since the night in the cave, Aron had quickly set Fate’s plan into motion. On his trek back to the palace, he had considered the words spoken to him. It was very likely that the man mentioned was the young Prince Koen. And while he was only two years old, the Prince did exhibit profound knowledge of royal etiquette and decorum. However, if Destiny was to be fulfilled, it was probable that Koen must not know of his role until Fate allowed it, and likewise, neither must the oracle herself.

And harsh realization set in: Fate had not asked him to stop the invasion either. The King

would

be deceived and Aevar

would

be attacked. And therefore Aron knew he must leave. He could not in good conscience maintain his position knowing the impending invasion. Too many questions would be asked of him: why he wasn’t able to better guide the King, why a premonition wasn’t given to him. Now that Fate had given him a mission, he had more important, pressing matters to attend to – finding the oracle, protecting the oracle.

He had immediately resigned his position to the King upon returning to the palace.

An uproar throughout the kingdom followed – the incomparable Aron leaving King Eamon was quintessential gossip for many months among the nation. What would the King do without Aron’s guidance and constant presence? Many feared that the nation, and the King in particular, would forget about its obligations – the four dune planets. It would be very easy for Eamon to lead a self-seeking campaign, neglecting the citizens of the sister worlds, without Aron there for spiritual guidance.

But the King was independently wise, and he gracefully accepted Aron’s resignation wishing him the best. It was a tearful departure, as the prophet had become a steady figure in the royal palace and his presence would be sorely missed.

As Aron readied to leave, an internal struggle became apparent. It seemed that Fate was testing him, seeing if Aron would warn his good friend and King of hardships to come. But, he soon realized, that no matter how intelligent Aron believed himself to be, he could not and would not question Fate. To do so would go against his sacred, age-old teaching.

And so he bid the King goodbye with a lasting word of wisdom: “Eamon, there is something I must tell you.”

“Yes?”

The internal dilemma was strong. Should he tell his King to spare his friend’s life, or stay silent and let destiny play out. Hesitating for just a moment, with a heavy sigh he chose the latter. “There is something I want you to always remember. You may forgive your enemies, but never forget their names.”

With confusion written on his face, the King nodded and embraced his good friend for the last time. Only Aron knew that this embrace would be their last, and his heart constricted with the raw emotion coursing through his veins.

Aron had spent the next several months relocating - and waiting. Waiting for Fate to guide him. With every female birth in the small kingdom, Aron was present offering a guise of spiritual authority. However, every birth left his mission unfulfilled, until tonight…

A young woman, who was penniless and very sick, had given birth to a baby girl. However, because of her waning health and the challenging birth, the young mother perished shortly after her young daughter entered the world.

And immediately Aron knew the small child. She was exactly what Fate had said she would be; her aura was unusually strong for such a young one. His spiritual training allowed him to see the impressions of her aura, and the bright amber and gold colors were almost blinding. She never emitted a cry, instead silently sought comfort in Aron’s arms and napped. He could read her strength, knowing she would be an excellent student in the future instruction. Her spirit called to him as if recognizing him as her teacher.

As he held her, the midwife spoke as she covered the young woman with the sheet. “What shall we do with the child?”

Aron searched his heart and found the answer. He was to raise her, this was certain. Fate intended it. “No family for her?” he asked.

The midwife shook her head in the negative, and Aron nodded. It was a sign. “I will care for her. She deserves a good home … and my Karina always wanted a baby girl,” he said as a whispered afterthought. His wife Karina. She would have loved this little girl from the first moment. How he missed her; and looking at the little girl in his arms, she was almost like the daughter they never got to have.

The midwife looked questioningly at the prophet, but said nothing. He was a good man doing a good deed. But few aging, widowed men would willingly take on an infant.

“What shall you call her? She needs a name.”

He thought for a moment. An appropriate name should be given, something meaningful. A small smile graced his face. “I will call her Elizabeth.”

“What does it mean?”

“Elizabeth means … blessed by God.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Sixteen years later…

“Try again, and this time – close your eyes.”

She looked at him with raised eyebrows. “Close my eyes? That can’t be done ... I’ll miss.”

“Do you question the prophet?” Aron asked with a small smile. After years of training and her secrets and abilities revealed, she still had so much doubt. “Or do you question yourself?”

“I question lunacy. Closing my eyes could not help my training in any way. How am I to hit my target if I cannot see it?”

Aron sighed heavily.

If only she knew the enormity of this lesson,

he thought. This last secret, locked deep inside her, was near release. And if only she would accept it and embrace it, she would be stronger with the Duscha present. The spirits of the earth, the Duscha, would give her insight and knowledge beyond any basic training that any mortal instructor could offer. The Duscha would guide her, their voice would speak to her, and she would possess their secrets and abilities. She had the gift, he was certain. But it was becoming clear that she was less than convinced.

“You do question yourself. Elizabeth, years of training and yet you manage to doubt my teaching. Have I failed you in any of your assignments yet? Have I misguided you in any way?” When she didn’t answer, he continued. “How is it that you can be the strongest warrior on Cantu and yet you show fear at every turn?”

“Fear? I fear nothing!” she argued. The old man may be losing his mind, but she would never admit a fear of anything. A warrior didn’t allow it. One must be strong, agile, and have no emotion … most of all fear. In truth, there was one emotion that clouded judgment more than fear. But she would know nothing of that. She was a destined warrior, trained killer. What soldier ever had time or patience for love?

Aron looked at her with a twinkle in his eye. Despite her insecurities, Elizabeth was becoming everything that Fate had destined. And while raising her on Cantu was undesirable with its harsh conditions, it was also very necessary. Fate had ordered him to protect the oracle, and the small, dune planet of Cantu offered much to anonymity. The locals asked few questions and demanded fewer answers. When he arrived on the planet shortly after her birth, Aron hoped to seek refuge from the fame Aevar held for him. The solitude they found proved most desirable. Since few on Cantu had any wealth, hardly anyone had been able to afford a trip to Aevar for one of his public appearances. No one recognized him.

The golden sand hills sparkled in the harsh sunlight as they eyed each other. The sky was streaked with the brilliance of red and yellow, sporadic clouds outlined the horizon. The desert hills were perfect for training grounds; that is in between the sand storms and extended, weeklong darkness. The two suns only graced Cantu five short days every two weeks.

“If you fear nothing, than prove it.”

She looked him square in the eye acknowledging his challenge; and with a small step to center herself in front of her target she accepted it. She was never one to back down and even though his request only

seemed

to border wisdom, she raised her laser gun, a newly acquired weapon. Taking a last, memorizing look, she closed her eyes.

The red beams from the gun emerged as she pulled the trigger, and with a lightning flash it hurtled towards its target. She waited.

Silence.

Taking a steadying breath she wasn’t aware she needed, one eye pried open to view the target. The old, derelict android that rested no more than 100 feet away remained unscathed, save for blemishes that it had acquired over the years.

Her shoulders sagged in defeat and she shifted her gaze to the old man at her right. An ‘I told you so’ was at the forefront of her tongue, when his quiet laughter met her ears.

“You find my failure amusing?”

“No, no. I don’t laugh at your failure. You’ve never failed at anything. I laugh,” he said as he took a step towards her, “at your defeat.” He sobered slightly as he asked, “You honestly think you are incapable of this?” His question ended more as a statement after reading the confirmation in her eyes. After all this time, after all her success, she still had no faith.

She shrugged, carefully searching for the correct words. How could she explain anything that she was feeling? This man raised her from infancy, and for some reason was hell-bent on convincing her she was invincible. He lived and breathed on her accomplishments. How could she ever admit that with her every failure, she died a little inside? That with ever miss of the target she could feel his disappointment? She couldn’t bear to see it in his eyes.

“Aron, perhaps … perhaps I am not ‘destined,’ as you believe. I’m not unconquerable or all-powerful. I can’t even hit my target. I’m not the one,” she said sadly as her eyes fell to her feet. “I’m not the oracle.” She turned north, walking towards their sand vehicle that awaited them. She knew it was cowardly to walk away. But, her heart just couldn’t survive his acknowledgment of her words. Believing it was one thing; having it confirmed was quite another.

“Elizabeth,” he called out softly, but she did not stop. “Liz.”

His firm calling forced her to stop. He had only called her Liz a handful on times, an endearment she had come to crave. She was Elizabeth during her chores, Elizabeth during her training, she was even Elizabeth during their few trips into nearby towns. She was only Liz when Aron dropped the prophet pretense and became a ‘father.’

And she found herself craving to hear it more and more even though it happened less and less.

He was calling her Liz now. At this moment, she was no longer a warrior, or a soldier in training. She was a daughter, and she relished the feeling while it lasted.

He spoke while taking steps to close the distance between them. “After all you have proven over the years,” his voice was gently, “do you honestly believe that? Or is it just easier to believe? To give up?”

She turned to face him, and she found her eyes burning with the need to cry, but she fought it – more on instinct than anything else. She wouldn’t cry. But the realization that, for the first time she actually wanted to, terrified her.

“You

are

the oracle Liz. You may not believe it yet, but I do. I have since you were born. And you have never disappointed me.” The distance between them was now relinquished to a few feet. His thumb came up to stroke her cheek as he willed her eyes to meet his, to see the truth in his. Slowly they rose.

“Liz … you

are

afraid of something, aren’t you?” After a second of hesitation, she nodded, and he took her left hand in his right in encouragement.

Another steadying breath was released from her flushed lungs. “I’m … I’m afraid of what it will mean, to be the oracle. Its not that I don’t want to be her, but if I am,” she sighed, and her voice was just above a whisper. “If I am her, I’m so scared that I won’t be good enough. That I’ll let Aevar down. And …”

As she trailed off, he prompted, “What is it Liz?”

“And,” her frustration emitted in her answer. “Aron, look at me! I’m a woman. I’m sixteen years old. How am I supposed to save an entire planet? It’s ridiculous. And I’ve been failing you all along. Right now I’m failing. Right now I’m breaking rule number one. I told you, I’m not her!”

“Rule number one? Elizabeth, what are you talking about?”

“ ‘Show no emotion.’ Aron, I can’t do it! It’s too much. I’m sorry.”

“Liz, this is the first time I’ve ever seen you this upset.” He wasn’t following her tempered outburst, and he hoped she would enlighten him.

“I can’t hold my emotions like I’m supposed to. I can’t. I feel so much, and when I’m training, it’s like they’re heightened. How am I supposed to fight an enemy if I’m already fighting a battle inside me?”

Now he understood. She had somehow misinterpreted the first rule he had taught her. She had been trying to feel nothing, when in fact she was supposed to embrace her emotions.

“Liz, ‘Show no emotion’ does not mean ‘Feel no emotion at all.’ It merely means to not let your enemies read them. Of course you must feel, and the more you feel the better. It gives you strength and aids your concentration. The idea is to not let your opponent know what you feel or think. To be a blank slate – but only on the outside. That way he will never know if he has the upper hand.”

She stared at him, trying to comprehend his words. She had been fighting a losing battle, this invisible foe for years, completely unaware that she had been negligent in her training.

“Would you like to try again?”

She nodded, aware of a renewed sense of anticipation and desire – to succeed. Perhaps his request would be easier now that she had an accurate grasp of what was required of her. Maybe now she would not feel like such a disappointment.

They slowly walked, and soon she stood in front of the dormant, gold-tinted android. Her long, brown hair cascaded and whipped slightly over her shoulders as the wind picked up. She sensed a storm approaching. Three days, and they would soon be seeking shelter from another sand storm.

Her eyes fixed on her target as he spoke, “Alright, ready your stance.” His authoritative, instructor voice emerged, although with a hint of something else she couldn’t quite name. Anticipation maybe, but she wasn’t sure. Liz straightened her back, her feet rubbing and grinding, attempting to get a grip in the sand. Her shoulders straightened and her face fell blank, which now seemed to come quite easily.

“Now, read your target. Pick a point on it for your aim. Do you have one?” She nodded as she looked squarely at the metal head that sat lifelessly on the android’s shoulders. More precisely – his nose. Another flicker of light reflected from the metal as a sun peeked quickly from behind a cloud.