The Recalling- Sage White

Laurence 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.

Reviews

[tinker2sweet]

Honey...once again you held me captive....missing you

[Coyote Poetry]

The chapter is amazing. I like how you set-up the story. The description and strong detail made the events come alive. I like the way you ended this chapter. I have some free day after tomorrow. I desire to read the complete story again. Thank you for allowing us to read your outstanding poetry and story.
Coyote