The Recalling- Sage WhiteA Chapter by Not A WriterLaurence is mad. White is under control. See what happens.The
Recalling: Sage White 6:07
P.M. The
Barracks Assembly for Young Soldiers was renowned for the elite soldiers and
centurions that graduated from the place. Once an adult, a man could attend the Barracks
Assembly, a dream come true for every young man, for it was the opportunity to
show one’s strength. After all, strength was prized. Every ten soldiers had one
adviser above them. Every adviser had to have two characteristics, nay, three:
1) Tough as nails, 2) Insensitive, and 3) Hatred to all that is good. Actually,
only one characteristic was really required: hatred " and lots of it. Every
adviser had one man in charge of them: Laurence Shay. Laurence, standing six
foot two, was well built; much so that it had been said, that he could crush a
man’s skull. He had a gold star or two on him to prove it. Laurence sought to
establish strong ties to the community, much so that he would teach young men
as to the best way to kill a man. After all, only the best should be able to
teach. Why not Laurence? But then . . .
there was White: the Ruler of this World. The wisest, the most supreme being in
the entire universe, the leader of Hevel. A step above, the boss, it’s all
about White, White, White. “AHHHHHHHH!”
screamed Laurence. Ka-chink. A
dagger invested itself into the wooden wall by Laurence. Next to the dagger were
five other daggers similar to it. His office only contained a wooden desk. On
the desk were set scrolls and ink; used for the purpose of accepting people to
the Academy. He now was pacing violently, venting to the only person who would
understand his problems: himself. “Who
does he think he is! I have been here longer than he has. I have maintained and
run this Academy! And now, he is replacing me with John! I am not a replaceable.
I am Laurence, and they will both be dead!” It’s time to give him a little word . . . from me to him.
Laurence
approached the wall from his desk, pulled the dagger out of the wall, and
thrust it in his sheath. He walked toward the door, pulled the door violently,
and closed the door. A
booming THUMP echoed from the door in the hall. Laurence
is coming. It’s
time to do business. “Ohhhhhh
yeahhhhhh..” White,
sitting at his desk, looked at his mirror starring at the reflections the
mirror was showing. The room had only one lantern, which was sitting behind
White’s chair on the ground. White, a man in his fifties, was as white as you
could be. Instead of going outside, he would spend most of his time inside
managing, as he would say. Managing what? Only God would know the answer. His
arms looked as scrawny as a ten-year-old tree, and his legs were about three
times larger than a deer’s. Whenever White spoke, he spoke in a low monotone
voice. Physically, he looked fit, and if needed, he probably could run a
marathon. He
lifted his left hand to his face and slowly rubbed it. He loved the feel of
smooth, shaven skin. Refreshing. “Hmmmmm,
what do we have here?” the Sage spoke quietly. Whether,
the Sage spoke to himself, to others, or to his mirror, it was up for grabs. Then
again, he was psycho, or that is what visitors thought of him whenever they
entered his room. White
looked behind his shoulder, gazing at the black door. He lowered his hand and outstretched
it to the doorknob, and it slowly turned. CREEEEEEK! The door opened only
an inch, and rays of lift left their streak through the opening. He set his
left hand back on the desk while he made his right hand grab a scroll and a
feather from one of the cabinets in the desk. He placed the scroll on the desk,
placed the tip of the hollow shaft in the ink, and began writing. CREEEEEEK! The
door slid fully open, and a tall figure walked in the room. Light shone across
the room, and Laurence’s shadow was seen from the door to the mirror. The man
just stood at the door’s entry with his dagger dangling by his side. White did
not turn back; he kept on writing while he watched what he wrote. “Tell
me, Laurence, which is lawful: to do good or to do evil, to save life or to
kill?” “You
know the answer,” muttered Laurence in a low voice. “You’re
right. I do know the answer, but you know the answer too.” No
answer. “What
is good? What is evil? Isn’t morality different from person to person? Yet we
teach hatred objectively in this town because we believe it is inherently good.
Good is merely promoting the intended objective of a society . . . . Which is
why, I called you here . . . .” “You
did not call me here. I came here by myself.” White
set his hollow shaft on the desk and it produced a quiet TAP. Meanwhile, Laurence placed his dagger back in
his sheath. White pushed his chair back, slowly lifted his body, and walked around
the chair facing Laurence without knocking over the lantern. Clothed in his
best, White’s white rob shown by the glimmering firelight the lantern produced.
“Did
you now?” No
answer. “As
I was saying, do not suppose that I have come to bring peace to the earth. I did
not come to bring peace, but a sword. For there are certain men crept in
unawares, who were before of old ordained to this condemnation, but they have
escaped to our town and swallowed our town with their darkness. Woe to those
who call evil evil and good good, who put light for darkness and darkness for
light, who put sweet for bitter and bitter for sweet. Lawrence, I need you. And
I need you to carry out a most important mission . . . . Consider this " your promotion.” “And
what would you have for me to do, my Lord?” “I
want you to destroy those who claim to be of the truth. You will do this for me
. . . will you?” “Of
course, my Lord.” “Good.
Let me hand you the locations of the suspects.” Immediately,
White turned around to his deck and picked up the scroll. At the same time,
Laurence moved towards White with his right hand gripping the handle of his
dagger. But . . . the dagger wouldn’t come out of the sheath! I could strangle him now, while I have the chance. It’s
not too late. It
wasn’t until he thought about strangling White when he saw that White had a
dagger attached to him as well. Failure. Or maybe . . . he could attack White
before he could unleash his weapon. Maybe
another time. White
turned around and walked towards Laurence, who appeared to be sweating. “Are
you feeling well, Laurence?” “Yes,
yes, I am just hot right now, that’s it.” “Good,
that is, as long as the mission isn’t jeopardized.” White
held out his hand with the scroll, and Laurence accepted it, opened the scroll,
and read the long list of names with the locations. “Rick
Barron, Greenside 3434” “Calvin
Green, Cloudy 9111” “Sydney
Carpenter, Silent 7777” And
the list goes on to about thirty names, but this did not frighten Laurence.
Nothing frightened him. “I
want you to kill all those men and women in the list, unless they are willing
to recant. Understand.” “I
understand. If you don’t mind me asking, why do you want John to meet you in
your office?” “What
is that to you? Just complete the mission,” replied the Sage. “Right,
I’m sorry, my Lord. Won’t happen again.” Immediately,
John rolled up the scroll and began to walk towards the exit. He grabbed the
door and closed it softly. Whatever you’re hiding, White, I am going to find it, if
it’s the last thing I do. © 2011 Not A WriterReviews
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2 Reviews Added on June 19, 2011 Last Updated on June 19, 2011 AuthorNot A WriterKyoto, MI, JapanAboutJapanese writer Into all things anime 日本万歳. どんなに頑張っても私を見つける.. more..Writing
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