The Rise of the Fourteen Read Online Free PDF

it’s
dusk. Now outside, the sky is a deep plum, as he runs across the rocky terrain.
And he can smell something, just the faintest whiff of … salt? He stops dead in
his tracks. He realizes that this is no plain, but a sheer cliff. A few stories
down, churning inky waters crash against the jutting rocks, spraying mist in
his face. He turns his back to the sea and looks out onto a different sea, a sea
of white, shimmering faces.
    “What are you?” he yells, gazing upon his tormenters
properly for the first time.
    “Oh, now he wants to talk.”
    “Quiet!”
    “Have you not guessed?”
    “Why do you talk to me?” Nuntios pleads.
    “He doesn’t know.”
    “Tsk tsk.”
    “Why do you take so long?”
    “What are you?” Nuntios asks again, his voice quavering.
“What are you? And what do you want from me?” An ethereal woman with a hard
face steps forward.
    “ We guarded this fortress long before you came. We have
not seen one who speaks to spirits for many centuries. But you would not talk.
So, we tried to make you listen. You almost died.” Her lip curls up into a
sneer.
    Nuntios’s eyes widen as the last puzzle piece clicks into
place. “So you guys are like … ghosts?”
    “How dare you degrade us as such!” The stabbing
chills return, and Nuntios grips his temples to keep from blacking out.
    “We are the shades of the fortress. Spirits. We can help.
We could have helped you. All you had to do was listen.” The cliff vanishes
beneath his feet and Nuntios is falling into blackness.
     Nuntios wakes with a start, his forehead coated with a
sheen of sweat. He goes to the bathroom to splash cold water on his face. As he
looks in the mirror, he sees that the dark circles under his eyes have gone,
and his face has more color than it has in weeks. Was it all a dream?
    Nuntios makes his way to the dresser, refreshed and ready to
start the day. Did any of those nightmares really happen? Just as he is
buttoning his blazer, Nuntios notices something written in the dust on the
mirror above the dresser. He quickly grabs his bag and runs out the door,
slamming it shut behind him. Even in the dim morning light, the words are easy
to read.
    We are real.
    We will listen.
    We are known.
     

3
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    The sun is shining on the turquoise waters. Arden can see
the birds, the birds that he knows and loves, flying around the tall palms,
pooping on unsuspecting cars. He should be at home, helping his dad open up the
family restaurant, but Arden isn’t. He’s headed to the airport, to a whole new
world he knows nothing about.
    The trouble begins in the morning with Arden’s birthday
celebration. He wakes up to some homemade chocolate chip pancakes and a huge
grin on his father’s face. As they eat, they talk and joke.
    “You’re practically a man now, Arden,” his dad teases, “I
guess that means I’ll have to give you more chores at the restaurant.”
    “I don't know, Dad,” Arden says, “I think I might retire
soon.” His dad just reaches over and ruffles Arden’s hair.
    “Just don’t eat too much,” his dad says. “I hear old people gain weight more easily.” Arden knows his dad is only joking, but still
makes a point of polishing off three helpings of pancakes before brushing his
teeth and getting dressed.
    As they leave to go set up at the restaurant, there’s a
knock on the door. They look at each other in confusion. None of their
neighbors ever knocked, they just came in. Whoever it is must be a stranger, Arden thinks warily.
    He looks over at his dad and feels a twisting in his gut.
There is a hollow resignation in his dad's face, as if he knew this day would
come. Another knock sounds, this one louder and with more force. Arden goes to
open the door, and suddenly his dad springs into action.
    “Arden wait, don’t — ”
Arden turns the handle and the door swings open. A woman in a crisp white
jacket and a matching pencil skirt steps across the threshold. Upon a