Exit Darkness, Enter Light: Book One of the Earth Cycle

  EXIT DARKNESS, ENTER LIGHT:

  BOOK ONE OF THE EARTH CYCLE

  BY

  DR KION AHADI

  © Copyright 2012

  Kion Ahadi

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Dr Kion Ahadi was born in June 1976 and currently lives in London, England. Always an astute student Kion graduated with a first class degree in Business Economics, MSc in International Business (with distinction) and a PhD (Sociology) from the University of London. His professional career has spanned Government Operational Research, Management and Leadership education, Innovation and Healthcare research.

  However, his main passion lies in writing, which has resulted in Exit Darkness, Enter Light the first book of a planned trilogy. Kion devotes his spare time to his family, weight training and travelling.

  To see artwork and music inspired by the book please visit: www.theearthcycle.com

  Prologue

  “The Poem of Teerzad”

  For the mighty Teerzad we take this world

  in the name of the Ari-an Empire,

  To the abyss of the Dark Gods of the Black Circle

  we pledge the service of our physical vessels.

  Ari-an War Song

  From the mountainside Teerzad surveyed the desolation of the burning city below; the battle had been swift and terrible. The air was eerily quiet, as another world lay conquered. These conquests of other races and planets were nothing new to the fearsome reptilian warrior; they had grown predictable and meaningless. The mighty warlord stood over nine feet tall and was built like a statue of iron. His purple cloak flapped in the wind, while the scaly black skin of his face glittered in the sunlight. Teerzad stood still as he watched the fires burn, his presence cast an unnaturally black shadow across the ground, his terrifying form the pinnacle of some dark crazed imagination. He sighed heavily and then shifted his eyes away from the scenes of destruction below and cast them to his minion Dajjal, never far from his side.

  “Contact the circle acolytes tell them Clyses is destroyed and all bow to the will of the Ari-an Empire,” Teerzad commanded, his voice emanating with power. His Shetie lizard servant Dajjal bowed and disappeared into the waiting gleaming silver spaceship. The smoke of the burning city below drifted across the air, as Teerzad remained poised on the mountainside like an anomaly of nature.

  Teerzad had followed the dark path of the Ari-an, and proved himself as a vicious warrior and general to the Dark Gods of the Black Circle. He was known and feared throughout the intelligent worlds of the galaxy as a master strategist and ruthless conqueror. Under his command the Ari-an Empire had continuously expanded; there were few left now who would dare to oppose the Dark Gods of the Black Circle. The negative energy of the empire threatened to engulf the whole galaxy. The life spark of the majority of souls across the galaxy was steadily falling under Ari-an control. Even the formidable Demon Chiefs of the Sirian Kings were subservient to Ari-an power. Yet for all the glamour and infamy bestowed upon him, unrest and regret stirred in Teerzad’s being.

  His minion Dajjal returned, “Sire the acolytes bring praise, the gods commend you on another great victory.”

  Teerzad considered Dajjal’s words for a moment and then spoke forcefully, “Erect a pillar of marble on this very spot where I now stand. Engrave on it the words written in this parchment.” Teerzad handed his minion the parchment, Dajjal bowed in compliance.

  “This will be the spot where I will be transformed,” Teerzad said.

  Dajjal looked up bewildered, as if unable to believe what he had heard. “Master, the Dark Gods of the Black Circle demand your service!” he shrieked.

  Teerzad’s retort boomed demanding obedience, “Do as I command you Dajjal. For two thousand cycles I have killed and bathed in the blood of the numerous sentient races born to the different worlds of this galaxy. I have learnt all the secrets of the wisest sages in the remotest life-bearing worlds across the cosmos. I made the Demon Lords of the Sirian Kings bow low before the Ari-an emblem. Yet I have nothing but sadness in this heavy heart. My life ends here. I will seek a vortex of light.”

  “But sire,” protested Dajjal, “if your life ends here and you seek a light vortex you will be judged. Who knows what will happen to you and where you will go? The Dark Gods can renew your body if you feel your age upon you.”

  “It is this body wrought of vengeance I tire of, my faithful servant,” Teerzad replied climatically.

  In one swift movement Teerzad tore the purple cloak from his body and with a threatening wave of a heavily muscled arm, silenced the protests of Dajjal. He then removed a large dagger from a sheath at his side; with both hands on the hilt of the shining blade Teerzad thrust it deep into his own heart. Dajjal watched frozen in soundless horror. After a few seconds Teerzad spluttered blood, staggered and fell to his knees. The black vertical slit pupils of Teerzad’s red eyes contracted. He could smell the burning of the city below far more acutely now. Blood gushed from the blade lodged deep in his heart. He felt the strength ebbing away from his huge muscular body. The twin suns burnt hot on his thick neck, the crimson blood oozing from his wounded heart poured to the ground forming a pool.

  Teerzad roared with the last ounce of his will causing Dajjal to step backwards in fear, “Sweet death come and set me free! Let me be cursed by the darkness, and judged by the light, I have no appetite for power and destruction anymore.” Then Teerzad closed his eyes for the last time, as he dropped face forward onto the blood-drenched surface of the mountain peak. The wind blew a soft breeze. Teerzad sensed a rushing. He rose out from the body below drained of life and was freed of his physical shell. Now he was a sphere of indestructible energy, which is only momentarily trapped in a physical vessel and vacates it upon death. The energy that had been known as Teerzad heard distant singing and turned to search the skies above. It perceived the vortex of light.

  “Let me go to her,” it thought.

  Dajjal, still trying to overcome shock looked over the dead body of the once mighty Teerzad. How would he explain this betrayal to the acolytes of the Dark Gods of the Black Circle? His master had been kind and so he would obey his last command. He read the words written on the parchment. Dajjal erected the pillar of black marble on the mountainside of Clyses and etched the poem of Teerzad. What it meant exactly he would never really know, but he did understand that it reflected a deep sadness his master had begun to express. In this universe where energy collides, it told the story of a powerful dark being searching for another path. The marble pillar would crumble one day and the words become lost like all things in the dusts of time. Regardless the legend of Teerzad the Destructor would still live on in the war-songs of the Ari-an Empire forever.

  Here rests TEERZAD Mightiest General of the Ari-an Empire

  A quiet storm brews, my domain is at peace

  Blood of slain victims cascades down the steps to my temple

  Electric eels swim the poisoned waters of my land

  A turquoise sky overlooks me; I’ve conquered all

  My troops await my every command

  Their services are available at my demand

  Battle war scars dot my muscled frame

  I command the winds with my fist

  My Legions wait…

  I won the battles of the east, against the Sirian Kings

  Defeated those who tried to disturb my peace

  The horizons of my mind are eternal

  I whisper magic into my hand

  And blow it out like mystical sand

  A particle reaches Earth my first physical land

  To bless it with luscious bliss as my powers
increase

  The abysses praise me, as even the Dark Gods fear me

  Many cycles cannot erase me

  My Legions wait…

  A golden harp whines a sorry melody somewhere,

  As I raise a shining dagger to my heart,

  I blow a kiss carried by a thousand emotions

  To the one I love and whom I destroyed before this transition

  As I end this life I scream a war cry that travels the universe forever

  Faster than light and sound reaching every living thing

  To earth it arrives as lightning

  Arms outstretched my energy rises away from gravity

  Leaving the scorched ground beneath with even parity

  Let me journey to the realms beyond time and space

  To the vortexes and columns of light

  My Legions cannot follow me…

  Chapter 1

  “The Beginning of the End”

  When you have stained your soul with every dark deed possible, is there any chance of redemption?

  When you have tasted ultimate power, can you really start again at the other end of the spectrum?

  These words echo through my mind as I lay on the dusty ground, my body battered and gripped by impending death’s vice-like hold.

  I can taste blood in my mouth. The numbness is slowly taking over me.

  That mocking evil laughter is raping my eardrums and splitting my head.

  The huge black reptilian form towering over me raises a taloned foot to crush my skull.

  The end will be here soon.

  Every life has a purpose, each soul has a destiny, get up Cyrus, get up, and fulfil yours.

  AIYANA!!!

  ***

  I was awake drenched in sweat again after another sleep disturbed night. Another nightmare – always the same huge reptilian creature marauding around causing pain and anguish to everything it encountered. Those cold uncaring red eyes staring back at me, like a ghost from a long-forgotten time. I had never talked to anyone about the recurring nightmares; I had just accepted them as a part of me. I was seventeen years old and still at college studying for my A levels. It was a typical Monday morning with my mum banging on my bedroom door shouting, “Get up Cyrus, Aiyana is waiting downstairs.” I had to take my little sister to school.

  I was the eldest of two children. Aiyana was my younger sister, eight years old with a silly basin-styled haircut, which I ridiculed at every opportunity. She always waited for me to take her to school; she hated school and needed the reassurance of me being around to get up on time in the morning. The days I didn’t have classes at college I would make sure I walked her there. I did enjoy our walks together. Aiyana always held my hand, I didn’t mind as I liked being the older, protective brother. We always talked while we walked across the tree-lined road, Godalming, Surrey – what a boring place! We had lived here all my life. It was nice and quiet, lots of greenery, with huge houses, but not very exciting for a young man looking for stimulation.

  I got out of bed slowly and shouted, “Ok Mum I’m up! Quit with the banging.” I walked to the door of my bedroom half-dressed and unlocked the door – my mum hated the fact I had a lock on my door, but I just needed some privacy. I guess like all mothers she liked the opportunity to snoop. I went into the bathroom and washed my face. I squeezed what little toothpaste remained in the tube onto my toothbrush. I started brushing. Poor Aiyana would have to wait for a few more minutes yet. I had a pretty good life, nothing to explain the weird nightmares I kept having. I spat out the sour morning taste and rinsed my mouth with cold water.

  My father Paymon was of Iranian descent and so he named me Cyrus, which means Lord or Sun in ancient Persian. My mother Megan was originally from the United States and she chose the name Aiyana for my sister, meaning ‘everlasting blossom’ in Native American Indian, a culture she loved.

  The story of my parents getting together was both romantic and unusual. My father’s family in Iran were very poor, but against the odds he had won a scholarship to study engineering in the United Kingdom. After much soul searching, he left his family behind and began an intensive degree programme at the University of London, where he first encountered my mother at the library. She was over from the USA studying for a degree in ancient civilisations. For my father it was love at first sight. According to him they had been drawn together instantly, although my mother’s version was somewhat different, much to my father’s annoyance. She claimed he had continuously harassed her into going on a date and she had given in after endless begging! I tended to regard my mother’s version as closer to the truth. Regardless they had overcome many cultural barriers and had eventually wed, without the consent of either family. As a result, they decided to cut ties with the past and settle in the UK. My mother was an only child from a very wealthy American family, so her parents initially disapproved of my father. She had stopped speaking to them for three years after they first got married until they finally accepted she was serious. They slowly came to terms with their daughter’s decision and after I was born they warmed to the idea of being grandparents. We had even visited them a few times when I was very young in the United States. Unfortunately they had both been killed in a car crash several years ago. My father’s parents had also both passed away, while I was a child and before Aiyana’s birth, so neither of us had ever had the chance to meet them.

  “Come on Cyrus get a move on!” my mum shouted from the hallway. I finished washing my mouth and face and walked back to my bedroom. I put on my favourite black combat trousers and a white T-shirt and ran down the stairs.

  “About time,” Aiyana said. She was waiting with her backpack on over her dark green duffel coat. She looked so cute with her very large dark brown eyes staring at me impatiently. She had the beginnings of a pretty face, which was trying to outgrow the boyish haircut. Aiyana had always tried to act like a little brother. I put my trainers on and grabbed my jacket.

  “Ok let’s get out of here,” I said. We stepped out the front door. Aiyana took my hand.

  As usual we saw the old lady who lived across the road walking her dog. The dog was large and brutish with shiny black fur; it was funny watching the two of them. It was hard to tell just who was taking who for a walk! The old lady was very frail and always seemed to be stooping forward almost like she was about to fall flat on her face.

  Comedic value aside, Aiyana was scared of that dog. I felt her small hand clasp mine slightly harder as they approached us on the pavement. Suddenly and without reason the dog started barking at Aiyana, she was terrified. The old lady was unable to control the large black dog and it got loose. This was no longer funny. The dog ran towards us and began snarling at Aiyana with aggressive intent. I remember feeling incredible anger and hatred well up through my whole being like lava about to erupt from a volcano.

  “Silence!” I shouted.

  My voice sounded awesome and very powerful, it surprised me. I shouted at the dog again and it began to whimper as it stared at me transfixed. I felt my eyes penetrating its eyes and then I released all I can describe as concentrated malice towards it. The dog bolted in the opposite direction back up the pavement with the old lady scuttling after it.

  “Wow, how did you make that dog run away?” Aiyana asked me in a jittery voice.

  “I don’t know exactly, just the thought of you scared was enough to make me mad,” I replied. I felt a weird tense energy all around. Then a faint ringing noise buzzed intermittently in my ear. It seemed like a signal. I looked around me. There was no one else apart from us on the street.

  “Well you are my hero,” Aiyana said sounding less shaken. I turned my attention back to her.

  I smiled; I loved my little sister deeply.

  “I will always protect you, now let’s get going. You will be late again,” I said.

  “Will you always keep me safe?” Aiyana asked.

  “Yes of course, I will keep you safe against anything!” I replied.

  Satisfied
Aiyana began walking again. She had never let go of my hand during the confrontation with the dog. We got to Moss Lane School late. The gate to the playground was half shut, but I hurried Aiyana through. I watched her as she ran across the playground and until she disappeared into the school building. I lingered for a while. It was a cloudy cold day. I would miss these aimless days when I leave for university, I thought to myself. Then I felt a chill; a foreboding, I turned and started to walk home.

  I was nearly home when I saw the old lady not far from where her dog had bolted. She was in tears and standing over the body of the dog. It looked dead.

  “What happened?” I asked as I approached her.

  She looked at me in terror, “You killed my dog,” she stuttered.

  “No I didn’t… I was just taking my sister to school,” I replied. I couldn’t believe she was accusing me of such a thing.

  “It ran away because of you… your terrible voice, now it is dead,” she added sobbing.

  I kneeled down and picked up the dead body of the dog, it was heavy.

  “Where do you live?” I asked. The old woman just looked at me with a blank expression. I knew where she lived, but I was hoping the question would snap her out of the shock. She just stood staring at me vacantly. I began walking towards her house. She followed. I lay the dog to rest on the pathway and knocked on the door, a middle-aged woman answered. I knew this was the old lady’s daughter.

  “What has happened?” she asked seeing my sombre expression and the body of the dog.

  “He is a killer,” the old lady blurted out. The daughter looked at me confused.

  “I was walking my little sister to school. The dog got free from its lead. It began barking and snarling at my sister. I told it to be silent and it ran off. I was walking home from the school and just found it dead,” I said earnestly.

  She was surprisingly supportive and kept telling her hysterical mother I could not have killed the dog. I apologised over and over again. In the end I left her to deal with the old lady’s frenzy. I couldn’t help thinking that the old lady was right; I must have killed the dog. All my thoughts had been of malice, but it seemed so ridiculous. How can you kill something through mere thought?