The Wire Archers
A strength ingrained in certain souls was able to resist total obliteration. An inner will-power continued to exist in spite of the dark shadows that blurred the mind.
Warriors of Transcendence, Part 2
The wind grew strong at Sea Point high above the Northern Forests. Woodland animals nestled deeply into their underground abodes. Waves of yellow leaves were carried through the trees, swept up into the air, swirling violently before descending to rest on the damp earth. Rain struck the wide treetops, drenching the trees, pouring down onto the earth in great torrents. The raging storm reverberated throughout the woodlands like the sound of a multitude of winged creatures in flight. A bird, gone astray, attempted to find its way through the downpour, searching for sanctuary among the rocks.
Finally, a ray of sunlight burst through the dark clouds, illuminating the forest. A deer hiding under the trees shivered in an attempt to dry itself, lifting its head to receive the unexpected gift of light. A lone wolf howled.
From an aerial view, the trees on the great mountain peak appeared as a cult of crowded, haunted men, arms raised seeking refuge.
On a clear day the border of the Wall would have been visible, but now a heavy fog obscured the peaks. Beyond the mist, faintly visible sections of the Green Lowlands sprawled out into the distance. In its center lay the Towered City like a massive, silent beast.
The rain finally ceased and the air cleared. The sun painted the blackened City walls in streaks of yellow. At the unfathomable height of the tower, the plethora of windows seemed to reflect a red color. Down below, on the lively market street, there was an unusual commotion caused by the presence of the secret of strength of the Sapphire Level. Weary to the point of collapse, a pale, emaciated man was seen running for his life. He wore an old and dirty light-blue garment upon his clammy body. It was obvious that escape was impossible and his frantic flight only delayed his inevitable doom. Subsequently, stalls were overturned, fruit was squashed and utensils shattered and scattered, but the over- excited bystanders were disappointed by the damage. Many had looked forward to this special moment expectantly aware that the Emperors would, from time to time, express their generosity towards the Towered City’s inhabitants by providing a hopeless, convicted creature to cause their blood to stir.
The spectators were unaware of the nature of this man’s crime and the rationale for the killing game was irrelevant to them. Merchants, dwellers of the street and passersby, stared at the fleeing man, taunting him, ridiculing him. Excited spectators crowded the windows on all the levels of the tower. To their surprise, they realized that the frantic runner was not even being pursued. From what was he fleeing? The dark, smooth stones made running difficult causing him to stumble and fall from time to time, to the amusement of the crowd. Reeling around, he resembled a drunkard as he swayed from side to side, eventually losing his strength and dropping helplessly to the ground.
Six men in the crowd arose and approached the prone man. Taller than all the others, their stride was proud and confident. Their white garb distinguished them from the other warriors. Their faces were stern, their eyes harsh and alert, their capes marked by sapphire-colored flames.
So! Warriors from the Saturn Level really were on the base.
The reality of this rare spectacle caused a breathless excitement in the crowd. Even the arrogant, shaven-headed soldiers fell silent.
“Mother, who are they?” asked a young boy of six, while nestling closer to her. In the stillness, his whisper seemed amplified, as if he had shouted.
“They are the WireArchers”, replied a warrior in shiny black leather garb.
An old woman watched from a distance. She alone knew that the man’s sole crime had been his successful resistance to obliteration attempts. Even the most headstrong prisoners could be obliterated with ease, but a few, such as this man would not surrender. A strength ingrained in certain souls was able to resist total obliteration. An inner will-power continued to exist in spite of the dark shadows that blurred the mind.
The six WireArchers, their cloaks rustling, formed a crescent-shaped enclosure around the criminal. Their severe and emotionless faces terrorized the trapped victim. His sporadic, labored breathing was all that could be heard now in the silent marketplace. The six WireArchers emitted a loud wail, which grew continuously stronger. Their cloaks darkened, and the sharpness of their features faded. Simultaneously, from deep within themselves, they released a peculiar substance as the unfortunate captive shrunk into a fetal position. From their outstretched hands, they exuded thin, shiny white strings that were flung onto the prisoner, forming a net. The strings enveloped him, painfully welding onto his skin like smoldering, sharp, metallic wires.
“You must not watch this!” exclaimed the mother, shielding her son’s eyes while, at the same time completely mesmerized by the sight herself. An expectant silence permeated the area, extending to the terraces above. Those who stood in close proximity to the prisoner began to retreat, as his moans grew deeper and his breathing became more shallow. Soon, he made no sound at all. An ear- shattering noise like an explosion of thousands of glass shards, emanated from the prisoner’s body. His face began to dissolve and the color of his skin paled. His eyes were shut and his facial features became distorted as his body disintegrated leaving only the residue of a grayish glass powder. The wire coils encircled the powder, causing it to heat up and change color, transforming it into blackened ashes that were carried away by the evening breeze.
Suddenly, the pent up tension in the hearts of the spectators erupted wildly. The audience roared and swayed, applauding, whistling and tossing objects onto the now empty killing ground where nothing remained of the captive.
The extraordinary skills of the WireArchers stirred the blood of the onlookers. Most felt fully prepared to participate in the Unification ceremony. The young mother attempted to pull her child away protectively, but the boy was drawn to the young warrior who had responded to his earlier inquiry. He approached the warrior in a childish attempt to learn more about the spectacular net.
“Why did he not escape through the net?” he asked gleefully, as if he had merely witnessed a game.
A crooked smile distorted the warrior’s face. Upset and agitated, as if offended, he responded, “Foolish child. That net cannot be severed!”
“Of course it can!” replied the child, innocently, “Even a child can tear a net like that!”
“In order to release the net, one must kill all of the six WireArchers who created it”, clarified the soldier. “If this is not done, the trapped prisoner is turned to dust”.
“And who can kill a WireArcher?!” inquired the child.
“No one on earth”, replied the proud warrior with the conviction of a true believer. The boy’s eyes glimmered. “WireArcher”, he repeated the word, joyously rolling it over his tongue. Maybe he too would merit to join their ranks when he grew up. “And how can one become a WireArcher?” he asked.
But, alas, the warrior had vanished; the child’s question remained unanswered.
To be continued.
***
Purchase Warriors of Transcendence online at a special discount for Breslev Israel readers here.
(With sincere gratitude to www.levhadvarim.com)
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