Kenzie scrambled to his feet, his movements frantic and unsteady. Still half-lying on the ground, he tried to push himself further away, his body driven by an instinctive fear. His breath came in ragged gasps as he glanced up at his rescuer. There was something unsettling in the figure’s presence, a lingering doubt that gnawed at the edges of his mind, making him question if he was truly safe.
He struggled to steady his breathing. He pushed himself up onto his knees, still retreating slightly. His voice trembled as he finally managed to ask, “Who are you?”
“My name is Al’aric,” he said in a calm, steady tone. “Do not be afraid.”
“I have been trying to reach out to you, Kenzie,” Al’aric continued. “In your world and here in Eternal Resonance. I am trying to free you from the darkness in your heart. But that darkness is too deep.”
“Do you remember the early times of your struggle? I have been whispering forgiveness to you. Do you remember the flyer about forgiveness the girl gave you at the university? And the whisper you heard the moment before you entered the Negative Harmony—it was all me trying to reach out to you.”
Al’aric stepped closer, his presence commanding yet gentle. Kenzie stood up, his legs trembling but holding firm. Al’aric's eyes bore into his with a mix of intensity and compassion.
“I have rescued you from the hands of At’tar,” Al’aric said softly, “but you are not totally free. You know that. Your heart is still bound by darkness. Do you want to be free?”
The question hung in the air between them, heavy and unyielding. Something inside Kenzie screamed to say no, a raw, primal urge to flee pulsing through him. Every fiber of his being longed to run, to escape, to push away the suffocating presence of the truth that Al’aric had laid bare. But as the weight of the question settled, something deeper stirred within him, something that had been buried beneath the fear and the darkness.
With trembling lips, Kenzie took a shaky breath and, from the deepest part of his heart, whispered, “Please help me…”
Al’aric smiled at him, a small, knowing nod accompanying his words. “I will,” he said.
He stepped closer, placing his right hand gently on Kenzie’s chest, just above his heart. The moment his hand made contact, Kenzie felt a strange sensation—a pull, like something was being sucked from within him, drawing out the very essence of his being. It felt as though his breath itself was being drawn away, the air tightening in his lungs, as if a dark force was slowly siphoning away his life force.
As the sensation intensified, Kenzie’s eyes widened in horror. From the depths of his chest, dark shadows began to emerge. They twisted and slithered like serpentine tendrils, curling and writhing as they extended outward. The shadows wrapped themselves around Al’aric’s hand, creeping slowly up his arm, their movements deliberate and suffocating. Kenzie watched, frozen, as the darkness pressed forward, crawling towards Al’aric’s shoulder.
Then, with a sickening realization, Kenzie saw the shadows move further, now making their way into Al’aric’s chest. As the darkness pushed inside, it felt as though his very soul was being traded, swapped for something else. At the same time, Kenzie noticed a brilliant light spilling out from Al’aric’s chest, flowing in the opposite direction—toward Al’aric’s hands, and then into Kenzie’s own chest. The light was warm and pure, a stark contrast to the suffocating darkness that had filled him.
In that moment, it became clear. Al’aric was absorbing the darkness inside him, exchanging it with the light that flowed from his own being. Kenzie could feel the weight lifting from his chest, replaced by the warmth of the light, as the shadows dissipated, retreating into Al’aric.
As the darkness continued to drain from his chest, Kenzie felt the weight of all his emotions lifting. The heaviness of anger, the bitter sting of hatred, the crippling fear, the crushing guilt, and the suffocating shame—all of it began to fade. It was as though each dark emotion was being drawn out, replaced by a lightness he had never known. Slowly, piece by piece, he felt himself returning to something truer, something more whole.
But as the shadows left him, Kenzie noticed something else—Al’aric’s shimmering light, which had surrounded him was gradually fading. The radiant glow that had once enveloped Al’aric’s form began to dim, its intensity waning.
Finally, Al’aric removed his hand from Kenzie’s chest. The last remnants of the faint shimmering light around Al’aric disappeared, leaving him standing still and calm, his presence no longer as luminous but somehow more grounded, more present. Kenzie stood there for a moment, feeling the last of the weight leave his body. A lightness filled him, a sensation of clarity, as if a great burden had been lifted.
The transformation was so overwhelming that Kenzie couldn’t hold himself up any longer. His knees gave way, and he fell to the ground, trembling. He collapsed, tears pouring from his eyes as the floodgates of his heart finally opened. He sobbed, his body wracked with emotion.
Between sobs, he whispered brokenly, “I killed my father…”
Al’aric knelt beside him, his presence a steady comfort. He gently placed his arm around Kenzie’s shoulders, pulling him closer in an embrace of understanding. “You are free,” Al’aric said softly, “and so was your father.”
Kenzie’s cries grew quieter, his body still shaking, but in that moment, he felt the weight of both his own freedom and his father’s. The darkness was gone, and with it, the haunting guilt that had plagued him for so long. As Al’aric’s embrace surrounded him, Kenzie felt something unexpected—an overwhelming sense of comfort, as though the embrace was not just from Al’aric, but from his father himself. It was as if, in that moment, the arms of the man he had lost were holding him once more, offering the forgiveness and peace he had longed for.
* * *
Morning light filtered through the trees, casting a soft glow on the clearing where the Mal’aks had gathered. Jazz led the way, pushing through the crowd with determined urgency. Keilee, Leeland, and Gabe followed closely, each of them trying to navigate the dense throng of agitated Mal’aks.
Murmurs rippled through the crowd, an undercurrent of tension palpable in the air. Jazz could hear snippets of conversation, though the language was unfamiliar. The tone, however, was unmistakable—discontent and suspicion.
Finally, they broke through to the front of the gathering. In an open space before a small, modest structure that seemed to serve as a meeting place, they saw Kenzie. He was seated on a simple chair, his head bowed low, eyes fixed on the ground.
Jazz exchanged a puzzled glance with the others. Why was Kenzie here? And what was this commotion about?
As they studied him, they noticed something profoundly different about Kenzie. His eyes, once sharp and piercing, were now gentle and calm. His posture, though subdued, exuded a quiet strength and serenity. There was an undeniable change in his demeanor, a sense of peace and resolve that was absent before.
The Mal’aks around them continued to murmur, their voices rising in agitation. Though Jazz and the group couldn't understand the language, the hostility was clear. Their anger and fear directed at the young man seated quietly in their midst.
One by one, Mal'aks began to emerge from the meeting place. Jazz and the others quickly recognized them: S’jare, Enn’ary, D’raen, Syl’arn, Ith’iel, and Zar’iel. The leaders stepped forward with solemn expressions, and in unison, they kneeled on one knee, as if honoring someone about to emerge.
Jazz was surprised when he saw Kenzie join the Mal’ak leaders in kneeling. There was a profound reverence in Kenzie’s posture, a level of respect that confirmed the profound change within him.
Then, Al’aric emerged from the meeting room. Although the shimmering light was no longer visible around him, his presence remained mighty and commanding.
The crowd’s murmurs and whispers fell silent, replaced by the sound of rustling movements as every Mal’ak in the clearing kneeled upon recognizing Al’aric’s presence.
Jazz, Keilee, Leeland, and Gabe stood awkwardly, feeling the weight of the moment. They were the only ones still standing, a stark contrast to the kneeling figures around them. The silence was profound.
From the side, a Mal’ak gestured urgently to them, making a bowing motion with his hand. Though he did not speak their language, his intent was clear, urging them to show the same respect that everyone else did.
Jazz looked at his friends, and with a silent agreement, they slowly lowered themselves to their knees, following the lead of the Mal’aks.
As Jazz, Keilee, Leeland, and Gabe knelt and looked at Al’aric, they felt a deep connection the moment his gentle eyes met theirs. It was as if Al’aric knew each one of them intimately, stirring something profound within their hearts, drawing them towards him.
They each heard their own names being spoken. The voice was gentle yet authoritative, resonating deeply within them. To their amazement, they realized Al’aric’s lips were not moving. He was communicating with them telepathically.
“I am Al’aric,” his voice echoed in their minds. “In your world, I am known by another name.”
“Your mentor, Mackenzie, says that he is proud of you.”
Those few words struck deep at their hearts, resonating as if they had heard them directly from their mentor. It was a powerful, personal connection that left them momentarily speechless.
“You need to forgive, Kenzie,” Al’aric continued. “Can you?”
They glanced at each other, silently confirming that they had all heard the same thing. Each of them felt the weight and importance of Al’aric’s words. With a shared understanding and resolve, they nodded at Al’aric and bowed their heads, accepting the task before them.
Al’aric began to speak, his words flowing smoothly in the Mal’ak language. But to their amazement, each word, though spoken in a language they didn’t know, was clear and precise in their minds, resonating with a deep, otherworldly clarity. They realized that Al’aric was not speaking aloud to them in the traditional sense; instead, he was conveying his message directly into their thoughts, allowing them to understand him completely as he spoke in Mal’ak language.
“Kneeling here before me, alongside your leaders, is a human who bears responsibility for the breach in the border of the Negative Harmony,” Al’aric declared, his voice steady and commanding. “His heart was once clouded with darkness, a weight he could not overcome. But I have set him free from that darkness.”
He paused, letting the gravity of his words settle over the gathered Mal’aks.
“My question is this: Is there anyone here who wishes to condemn him?”
The crowd remained silent, an almost tangible stillness blanketing the gathering. No voice rose to answer Al’aric’s question, and the only sound was the faint rustle of the morning breeze through the crowd of kneeling Mal’aks. The weight of the moment seemed to hold everyone in place.
Al’aric stepped forward, descending gracefully to one knee beside Kenzie. His presence was powerful yet gentle as he leaned in and whispered, his voice low but firm, “No one condemns you, and neither do I.”
Kenzie lifted his head slightly, his eyes wide with a mixture of disbelief and relief. The words seemed to wash over him like a cleansing wave, a final affirmation of the freedom he had longed for.
Al’aric rose to his full height, his commanding presence once again filling the space. His voice carried with calm authority as he addressed the gathered Mal’aks and the humans alike. “Rise,” he said, his tone gentle yet firm. The crowd stirred, slowly lifting themselves from their kneeling positions, the tension in the air easing just slightly.
“Where are the other three Rogue Resonants?” Al’aric continued.
D’raen stepped forward, his head slightly bowed in respect as he addressed Al’aric. “The remaining Rogue Resonants are in the prison, kept under guard,” he said, his voice steady but tinged with deference.
Al’aric’s gaze shifted to D’raen, his expression resolute. “Take me to them,” he commanded.
D’raen nodded immediately. “As you wish, Al’aric,” he replied, turning and signaling for the path to be cleared. The gathered Mal’aks began to part, creating a passage for Al’aric and the Mal’ak leaders who followed him. The air grew thick with anticipation as the group prepared to move toward the prison.
As Al’aric began to move, his steps purposeful, he passed by Jazz and the group. Without breaking stride, his gentle yet commanding voice resonated in the air, “Come with me,” his gaze briefly meeting theirs.
The words were not a request but an invitation filled with quiet authority. Jazz, Keilee, Leeland, and Gabe exchanged quick glances before nodding, their curiosity and sense of duty compelling them to follow.
Al’aric and D’raen led the way, their steps steady and purposeful, as they moved through the gathered Mal’aks. The crowd parted in silent reverence, their watchful gazes following them and their companions. Jazz and the others trailed behind, their curiosity growing with each step.
Eventually, they approached a structure built into the cavern wall—a fortified enclosure that radiated a sense of solemn authority. D’raen moved ahead, unlocking the heavy doors, which creaked open to reveal the shadowed depths of the prison within.
The air inside was heavy, still, as if the walls themselves absorbed the despair of those held within. Each prisoner was confined within a separate stone room, the entrance sealed with thick, reinforced doors, offering a stark contrast to the outside world’s openness.
Al’aric approached the first cell, where Ivy was kept. He nodded to the guards, signaling for the door to be opened. The door creaked loudly as it moved, the silence inside the prison amplifying every sound. They waited for a few moments, but when the door closed again, Al’aric stepped out, his expression somber. His usually calm demeanor seemed touched by something deeper.
“Ivy refuses,” Al’aric said quietly, the weight of his words hanging in the air. He didn’t need to elaborate; the disappointment in his eyes was enough.
With a heavy heart, Al’aric moved to the next cell, the one that held Titus. The process was the same as before: a brief exchange, a few minutes of waiting. When Al’aric exited the cell, his countenance was unchanged. He shook his head, his silence speaking volumes. He didn’t need to say a word for everyone to understand that Titus’ decision mirrored Ivy’s.
Finally, they reached the third and final cell, where Kellan was held. This time, Al’aric entered the cell and stayed inside longer than before. The door remained shut, the others waiting patiently in the hall, sensing that this would be a different outcome. After what felt like an eternity, the heavy door creaked open once again, but this time it wasn’t Al’aric alone who emerged. Kellan stepped out, his figure changed.
His posture was different, his movements slower but more deliberate. There was a calmness in his eyes, a softness that had not been there before. It was the same transformation that had taken place with Kenzie—the darkness that once clouded his heart seemed gone, replaced with something clearer, brighter.
As Kellan stepped into the light of the cavern, Al’aric followed him, his steps steady but more weary now. He didn’t show it overtly, but those who knew him well could see the subtle shift. His shoulders were a bit slumped, his gaze a little more distant.
The group exchanged glances, sensing the heavy emotional burden Al’aric carried, yet they also saw the quiet triumph in his actions. Kellan, freed from his darkness, stood beside them, no longer a prisoner, but a man transformed.
As Al’aric stood before the group, the weight of the moment hung heavily in the air. His once-mighty presence seemed diminished, his energy having drained away with the monumental exchange of light and darkness. His eyes, though still filled with authority, carried the quiet sorrow of a burden borne. He looked at each of them in turn, his voice steady but filled with quiet resolve.
“The exchange has drained much of my light,” he began, his voice resonating through the air. “I am not what I once was... not yet.” He paused, gathering himself before continuing. “But you must remain strong. Hold onto hope, for the battle is not over. At’tar will cease this moment, but know this—I will return in three days.”
Al’aric stood still for a moment longer, his presence heavy in the air. Then, as if the last remnants of his strength were being consumed by the very light he had shared, his form began to flicker. A gentle glow surrounded him, growing brighter, until he became nothing more than a swirl of light, vanishing into the air with a soft, almost inaudible whisper.
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