Spear Through Time

[Aiden Finnegan]

“The hill shall never submit!” the Shinning One screamed as he thrust the Spear forward, the Light surged forth from his being and into the weapon. A white-hot beam of light shot forth in stagnated beams, turning his foes to ash.

The world shook with each life taken.

The kilted king stood in defiance before the Shinning One, his hand thrust up and Light came down from the heavens as he screamed, “Bend your knee! We are the only ones who can save you from the Lisheen Cult! Bow to your new ruler!”

The world shifted as the crystal between his hands glowed green and yellow and red and blue and white. The Shinning One screeched as a beam of the five Lights struck him, his body was awash with pain as the weave settled upon his form. Still, he held fast to the Light that flowed from him and through the Spear.

The Shinning One screamed louder as he thrust the weapon into the stomach of the King and the Light surged forth, from him and into the Kilted King.

Aiden sat up in his bed, gasping and sweating. His right hand reached out and fumbled for the glass on his nightstand. He downed the contents, sighing loudly as the water took root. Since his conversation with Cooper, Aiden had been making an effort to drink less. In previous days, it would have been whiskey or vodka waiting to help lull hum back into darkened dreams – this last week had seen him drinking a glass of water for every half bottle of whiskey he had consumed. Oh, that would be nothing to brag about in an AA meeting, but it was a vast improvement from his previous habits. Since, he had come to rely more upon the hydroponics supplied by the ever-increasing dispensaries of the CDC.

If it grew from the ground, then smoke it down – as the old adage said.

Aiden laid back down and, after an hour, found that sleep would not take him. The sun rose slowly and pierced the slats between the blinds covering his windows. He sighed to himself and found his wallet charging next to the spot where he had left the now empty glass. Six thirty in the morning. With a groan, he tossed back the covers and swung his feet off of the mattress. His eyes found the Spear, still revolving next to the window where he had left it the night before.

The Light flowed through it? Aiden thought to himself as he stared upon the blackend, twisting blade.

The door to his room swung open, Dimitri standing within its frame as soft light flowed over his shoulders. Aiden grabbed for the blanket and started to cover himself. Dimitri laughed softly, “Oh please, it’s nothing I haven’t seen before. Honestly, I’m more surprised you’re up this early.”

Aiden dropped the blanket and stood from his bed, naked as his birth. He stretched with a yawn, walking over to Dimitri and took the cup off the tray he was carrying. Chicory and coffee swam up into his nostrils as he brought the porcelain cup to his lips.

“Yeah, well, the dreams haven’t quit,” Aiden mumbled – trying to keep the sour tone from his voice. Their conversation from the previous day had still stung. It was a surprise that his assistant had still brought him breakfast. On the best of days, Aiden hadn’t woken before ten in the morning. The omelete and coffee had grown cold more often than not.

“And what was it last night?” Dimitri asked without a hint of mockery.

Aiden paused before taking the plate from the tray, “Oh, we care now, do we?”

“What happened in this dream of yours?” Dimitri asked, ignoring the barb.

Aiden sighed, “I used it to make the Light more powerful. I faced a Scottish warlord and tried to banish him with the Light, but…”

Dimitri didn’t look once at Aiden. He took the tray and set it down upon a small, circular table before the still blinded windows. Silence passed between them as Aiden’s assistant poured another cup of coffee into the spare cup that sat upon the silver-worked tray. He took it in both hands and sat down, pulling on the string that hung from the top of the blinds – opening Aiden’s room to the now rising Sun.

“And?” Dimitri asked after he took a sip from the steaming mug of black coffee.

“And what? I fought off a Scottish warlord in my dreams,” Aiden exclaimed – making an effort not to throw his hands about in gesticulation, and thus the hot coffee.

“Careful,” Dimitri replied smartly before taking another sip, taking every effort not to look at Aiden.

“Oh, shut up. I thought you’d have gone back to the Golden Ring,” Aiden spat as he searched about for his cigarettes. Dimitri pulled a pack from the pocket of his blazer and held one up for Aiden.

Aiden snatched it from his hands and opened himself to the Light, igniting the tip with a trickle of Fire.

“Rather cranky in the morning, aren’t you?”