Author Steven Clark Bradley is a multifaceted, professionally published author. Because of Steven’s unique experience as a world-traveling author, he is able to very vividly and authentically write about place that many have only read about and few have actually seen. Steven simply loves writing, and he has been blessed to travel extensively and loves to see the world. His travels around the world to 35 countries give him a really interesting amount and unique ways of explaining the characters in his stories. The driving force of his life is to tell the world around him what he has seen and how it impacts our lives today, how yesterday brought us to where we are now, and how it will certainly affect us all in the future.

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Showing posts with label Fantasy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Fantasy. Show all posts

Re-Constitution - Dark Justice in The Cave of treasures by Steven Clark Bradley


I remember my dad often told me, when I was bad that "Son, two wrongs don't make a right." He was so right. It is important to make sure that when someone does something evil that we do all we can to bring them to justice. Yet, at times it hard to know if we are fighting for justice or for retribution. Attorney General Harold Bolder is on the run. He knows what the president has done and he wants justice, but on his own terms. read and watch a transformation of this good man into an evil force himself because he tries to use good to accomplish vengeance. This chapter from my novel in progress, Re-Constitution is profound and will speak to your insides and make you wonder you stand before the face of your maker. - Steven Clark Bradley

Dark Justice in the Cave of Treasures

Chapter 27

Washington D. C.

January 13, 2013, 11:02 p.m.

The racing cars and sights and sounds collided in the downtown area of the nation’s capital. The bright lights above on the buildings and the streets that illuminated the night were nothing like what lurked below ground. Down there, it was dark and wet and infested with vermin of every kind, with the most deadly killers of all being of the human persuasion.

Make shift living quarters were erected everywhere Down the narrow, long tunnels, lights strewn along the way lights were burning and small fires added a bit of extra light and heat to keep one’s blood circulating without freezing solid during the frigid cold night. Normally, the underground city crawled day and night beneath Washington D. C. It bustled with drug users and sellers and prostitutes who had finished their night’s duty or who were about to go do theirs. Tonight, though they had all been there, someone or something, human or otherwise had scared them all away. Tonight, for the first time in a hundred years, the main tunnel that ran right below the center of the US Capital was silent.

No one had even really even noticed it, earlier in the evening. Someone strange had descended into their frozen underground dwelling, and they had all been so busy shooting up, having sex or just trying to stay alive that no one even noticed until there he was. Some uninvited guest in a hoodie and a large coat just walked into their little community and no one knew who he was. His head and eyes were pointed downward looking right at the ground as he walked.

The man walked past several of the makeshift living areas before someone saw that he was there. He kept walking. He felt nauseous and somehow empty, like something inside him was dying. He felt like his insides were darkening, like a great curse had come upon him. He pulled the hood as far over his darkened head as he could. I just need a place to sit down a while. The man thought. He walked past two more dirty, stinky sleeping areas and five men walked out in front of him.

“Hello stranger.” One of them said to the man. Another man walked up behind him and hit him with a bat in the back of the man’s knees; they buckled under him and he tumbled to the ground. “Sorry, friend, but we don’t want to hurt you or nothing, but we just cannot be too careful, you know? Where you from?” The man said nothing and just stayed on his knees and looked downward. His mind was racing and he felt something coursing through his body and it made him want to stand up and tear them all limb from limb.

The homeless man looked down at the uninvited guest who was still on his knees. “Look, we asked you a question. Where ya from stranger?” The man grabbed the stranger by his hood and pulled his face up, and screamed. This stranger wanderer, who had invaded these homeless people’s only secure place to live, looked at the man and his eyes glowed bright red and his face looked repulsively dark around his eyes and mouth and he growled. The invader rose to his feet and grabbed the man by is coat and raised him a foot off the ground. The man’s friends pounded on the stranger’s body, but he just stood there and felt nothing.

The stranger looked at the homeless man he had in his hands and hoisted into the air and spoke to him. His voice was hoarse and snarly. The homeless man urinated in his pants and was terrified. The stranger looked into the man’s eyes with his own shining bright red ones. “Get your people out of here. I can’t…” The stranger doubled over in pain and the homeless man fell to the floor. “I can’t … I don’t want to hurt anyone, but can’t be sure … just go! All of you get out of here!” The other men in the homeless community ran over to kick the man to death, but the leader shouted at them. “Wait, he’s not trying to hurt us. He’s trying not to. He told us to get out, so let’s do what the man says.” The homeless man looked at Bolder’s changing face. “As ugly as you are, I know I’ve seen you somewhere before.”

Harold Bolder stood up straight and shouted. “Get out!” The tunnel shook and car sirens blared up above ground. Cement and bricks fell from the ceiling and a strong raging wind rose up out of nowhere and sent everything in the tunnel everywhere. Bolder took hold of the man in front of him and pulled him up to his face. “I told you to get out.” Bolder pulled his arm back to probably kill the homeless man with one blow. “Now, it’s time to die.” Bolder said with his raspy voice and red eyes. Just as Bolder brought his fist forward to hit the old homeless man with all his might, Anahel appeared and held Bolder’s arm back. Bolder looked at Anahel, dropped his cocked arm and tears ran down his cheeks. “What’s happening to me?” He dropped the homeless man to the ground and the man took off running.

“Harold, it is because you have used the Tree of life’s power to negative and evil intents. We have not known what would become of you. Everyone knows what Thomas Arthur is, and even the Master sees your reasoning and understands that you want to rid the world his godlessness. Yet, the Tree of Life is not for evil or settling a score, and you have incurred bad consequences for yourself. You should not use life to cause death.”

Bolder looked around the now totally destroyed underground tunnel. No one was there. “Anahel, I have these powerful urges to just kill someone and to tear them apart. Where do those evil ideas come from?”

Anahel looked at Bolder and felt gloomy. Bolder’s visage was now marred and dark. Around each of his eyes was a ring of darkness that looked like he had glued his shadow to his face. It gave of a look of death. Bolder had grown a beard over the past days and the way it formed around his now blackened lips gave him the appearance of a demon himself. Indeed, I fear he is halfway one already. Anahel thought and felt sad remorse. He loved this man like his brother; like I loved so many of my brethren who followed evil.

“Harold, these thoughts come from you. I cannot imagine having never been and one no longer being. So, my brother, I have been around for a very long time. I have seen the greats of your former race fall to four great pitfalls in general, with a few more, may I say more creative idiots, along the way.

The first great enticement in the heart of Adam’s seed is to envy and to let jealousy run rampant in one’s soul; I have never figured out what a soul is, but I know it is what makes you who you are. Jealousy, in its rightful place, is a sure sign of love. It is when it transforms into covetousness and envy that it becomes the greatest lure to evil that is the root of every crime amongst the race of humans.

The second great destroyer of the mighty who have fallen is greed; a force that consumes its host so gradually that the one being devoured by greed begins to enjoy being eaten alive by it. That’s how I see it, as an outsider from the travails of being human.” Anahel stopped speaking and looked gently into Bolder’s face. “It is worth noting, Harold, that once again, greed, along with covetousness and envy, is the offspring of jealousy and feeds right into the third great hazard that has slain the most potent, apathetic indifference.”

Anahel grabbed Bolder’s shoulder and smiled and had a twinkle of whit in his eyes. “You know like I have heard it asked, what do you think is the biggest problem in the world, apathy or ignorance?” Bolder slightly smiled and looked up at Anahel and said, “I don’t know and I don’t care?” Anahel looked excited. “Yes, yes, that’s right!” he shouted and laughed. The he looked at Bolder seriously, “You’ve heard it before?” Bolder thought for a few moments. “Oh, only a few times.” Anahel smiled and looked pleased. “A few hundred times? I stopped counting a while back.” Bolder’s face suddenly looked brighter and of fuller color as he and Anahel both looked seriously at each other and then burst out laughing.

The three great evils I have just described to you, though residing in the heart of every human, are not what drive you. You are not motivated by jealousy. You love to give power away. You are in no way influenced by money or things. I saw what you put in that envelope in the hidden pocket in the back of your coat. You probably don’t know the meaning of apathy and have never been so in your life. It is the last one of the great dangers to you that threatens to push you over the cliff; revenge. The Master has executed revenge from the day of the great war for Mount Elyon, where my Master cast down so many of my kind. Only my Master has the right to execute vengeance, and He wants to execute it for you and through you, but he is unable to, because your motivations are vexed.

Harold, you are no longer as limited as you were before you ate of the Tree of Life. You are shifting, and you have changed into this dark ominous thing because you are trying to use light to create darkness and life with the intent to kill. I want to help you Harold. I want to protect you, but you must face these things for yourself. You have only one choice and you will know what it is after you have faced your test here. I know your heart and God knows your motivations. He has a message for you; a lesson and you must either learn it or reject it. The choice is yours.”

Bolder looked downward. “I have to live this myself, don’t I?” Bolder asked Anahel. When he looked back up, Anahel was gone. “That was a yes, I take it.”

Washington D. C.

January 13, 2013, 11:14 p.m.

Bolder walked over to the tunnel wall directly in front of him. The dim light in the tunnel suddenly spiked and his eyes felt almost blinded. Bolder quickly covered his eyes and when he lowered his hand and opened his eyes, he suddenly found himself in a cave. He saw a series of primitive drawings scrawled on the wall. The drawings seem tell a story … like ancient hieroglyphics. Bolder carefully reached out and touched the drawings. Then, it occurred to him that the light inside the cave seemed to be coming from nowhere.

Harold Bolder reached out to touch the wall and then hesitated. His hand was shaking and he felt a certain force flow out of the rock and it produced a tingling sensation on his fingertips. He pulled his hand back and looked around the cave. Though he had not noticed before, probably out of shock, amazement or sheer exhaustion, he saw that the cave was massive. It seemed like it had been carved right out of the stone.

He turned and walked around the site. He could see the carved out stones that had been placed in an organized fashion, obviously ages ago. On the cave floor, next to a large flat stone that had clearly been used as a table, Bolder saw a hollowed out stone that resembled a cup and flat slate stone plates scattered around the area. One of the plates had a primitive drawing on it as well. It showed two boys, one slightly taller than the other. One was tending to a field of vegetables. The other boy was slaughtering a lamb and draining the blood into a vessel of some kind. Bolder placed the plate on the table.

He picked up another stone plate and it too had a drawing carved into it. This one showed both boys offering their sacrifice to God and holding their hands high into the air. The taller boy’s offering was his fruit from his field of labor. The smaller boy offered the body of a slaughtered lamb. He poured the blood over the body and into a primitive alter. Bolder picked up the plate with the image of the taller boy and held it close to his face. He saw something behind the boy. It was a bit obscured but he was sure he could make out the image of an angel. The wings were there, he was sure of it. Its face was grimacing and looked evil and cunning. Then a word filled Bolder’s mind. He spoke the word quietly to himself that he had heard in his brain. “Kassadya?”

When he had mumbled the word, the light in the cave flickered and the cave shook slightly and dust and small stones fell to the cave floor. Bolder bent down and picked up another one of the flat stone plates. It showed the images of the two boys again. The smaller boy was smiling and raising his hands into the air while the image of the taller one had his head drooped downward with a look of sadness and anger drawn across his face. Bolder took the next plate, and when his eyes met the drawing, he had a sharp pain fill his hand which crawled up his arm and into his head, forcing his head to snap backward. His eyes closed and saw it all happening before him.

General Bolder looked and saw two young boys. One of them was younger than the other and busy feeding his sheep and herding them out into a large field. The other one was tending his garden and hitting the ground with a sharp tool in hard, aggressive, angry strokes. He kept glancing up at the other boy and stared at him. Bolder’ eyes were fixed on the scene that appeared before his eyes.

His eyes widened when he saw an image appear behind the older boy. It was tall, massive, like the devilish figure he had seen on the plate. It was charred and black and had leathery wings with claw-like tips on its wings. Smoke rose up off its body and its eyes seemed to bleed hatred and death. It looked down at the older boy and watched him. The boy was oblivious to its presence. After a few moments it bent down and began whispering into the older boy’s ear as he dug in the earth.

“God hates you, boy!” The boy’s strokes at the ground increased with speed and aggression, and then he stopped and he looked up, as though he heard a voice, but saw nothing. He went back to his work, striking the ground hard in anger as the evil Watcher

“There is no satisfying such a hateful person as this one you call God.” Kassadya whispered in the boy’s ear. “Your brother seems to please God so much though. Look at him over there. He is happy…smiling…peaceful. Did God not accept his offering? Did He not reject yours?” The boy looked up and over at his younger brother. His face grew angrier, to the point of rage.

“What are you waiting for?” Kassadya screamed out with the evil Watcher about an inch from the older boy’s face. Then he whispered in the boy’s ear. “Are you going to let your little brother rob you, boy? Did he work harder than you? Did he toil as you have or did you not put much more effort into your offering to this ungrateful creator?” The boy had not even flinched when Kassadya screamed in his face, but the quiet whisper got his attention instantly. The boy looked straight up into the sky and raised his fist into the air. The beast behind him grinned and began to laugh.

“How easy they are! With no effort at all.” the Watcher thought.

“Look at your hand.” The watcher told the boy. “You need to take that thing in your hand and show your brother that you won’t tolerate such disrespect! Are you not the eldest? Should he not bow down to you?” The boy looked at the sharp tool he had been using to break open the ground. “Take that thing and strike him down!” The Watcher enticed the boy. “Show him you are the leader of the clan! Show this God that you demand your rights!”

Suddenly, Bolder saw the taller boy turn, with the tool in hand, and walk slowly toward his younger brother. The older brother’s murderous thoughts were interrupted with memories of their childhood. “But, I love my brother!” he told himself rather unconvincingly and remembering playing outside the cave of learning the life that their father had been given since the Great Fall. He stopped walking and lowered the tool in his hand to his side. Then the beast appeared again and whispered in the older boy’s ear. “He’ll grow up and take it all away from you! He’s not your brother! He’s your enemy! Your mother loves him far more than she does you. He’s smarter! God loves him more than he loves you!” Kassadya loudly declared. The boy raised his head and stared at his brother. His softened expression stiffened again and anger crossed his face.

“He’s blessed and you’re cursed!” the beast whispered to him again. The boy raised the tool again up to his eyes. “He has to die or you’ll have no future!” Kassadya taunted him. The boy started walking again towards his brother. He hid the tool behind his back. “You have a right to defend yourself!” the Watcher challenged jealous heart of this child who had never tried to question himself. “He reminds me of the Master.” Kassadya reflected. The boy walked faster.

“He’s plotting against you! He’s a thief, a liar, a…” The boy took off running towards his younger brother. The younger brother looked at his older one and smiled at first and then saw his brother’s face with an expression he had never seen before.

Confused by the rage he felt, the older boy couldn’t quite figure out why he was so angry at his little brother. The aggressive child was now poised to do something he had never contemplated before. It was true that God had rejected his presentation, but the child knew the way to correct his wrong. God had Himself told the boy what was required to make his way clear. He simply felt cheated, abandoned.

Suddenly, General Bolder saw Kassadya appear and Bolder saw the Watcher’s clawed left hand thrust into the child’s head, rearranging the young brain inside. When the angry child got to where his younger brother was standing, he stopped and stared at the boy he had grown up with, the one he had lived with his whole life until that very moment. “Why have you lied to me?” he asked his younger brother.

“Lie, what does that mean? I have always been with you. What is mine is yours as well! Come, let’s sit and eat of the lamb I offered to God today.” The words enraged his older brother. “See, he’s mocking you!” the evil Watcher, Kassadya taunted the older boy with the demon’s hand shoved right into the older boy’s head and manipulating his reactions and changing them from love to jealousy, to debate over rather he should kill his brother or repent before God. “He is belittling you! Have some pride, boy! Take that tool from behind your back and slay the little bastard!”

“I don’t want your filthy meat!” the older boy told his little brother. You are mocking me!” the older brother declared. “I don’t want anything from you!” He gripped the tool and his little brother looked very perplexed and did not understand why his older brother seemed so vexed at him. “My brother, I love you. I would never mock you!”

“He’s a liar!” the Watcher insisted. “He’s going to destroy you! Take that tool and strike him down!” The boy hesitated. Crouching down behind the enraged boy, the Watcher from the depths of Hell rose up and Kassadya roared inside the older brother’s head, “Do It Now!”


Suddenly, with one swipe of his hand, the older brother swung the tool. His younger brother cried out, “Cain, NO!” just before the tool entered his skull. The smaller boy fell to the ground and blood was gushing from his head and blended with the lamb’s blood that the smaller brother only hours earlier had sacrificed to their Creator. The Watcher laughed out loud, and the boy seemed to hear it and looked around and then finally looked down at the sight of his younger brother, the brother he had always loved was lying dead on the corrupted Earth. He bent down and cried out and took his brother into his arms. “What have I done? I have to hide him, shall I lie, what should I say?

As he screamed out in great sadness and fear, he took stones and brush and piled it all on top of his little brother’s dead body. Then, he heard it and fell deadly silent. It was that same voice that had rejected his offering earlier in the day. It’s sounded like a great monster ready to devour him, though every other time he heard it, in the past, had always made him happy. This time he heard a voice like bursting thunder as large as the sky call out his name.

“Cain, what have you done?”

Cain did not respond but continued hitting the sun-hardened earth with his shovel and wondered what was about to become of him.


“Cain, where is your brother Able?”

“Am I my brother’s keeper that I should know his in and outs, when he rises and when he sleeps?”

“Cain, your brother’s blood cries out constantly before my holy throne. Henceforth, you shall wear a mark, for you have let jealous and angry run amuck, but forgiveness is crouching at your door. All those who find you shall wish to kill you; yet, no one shall lay a hand on you to harm you. ”

****

The image before General Bolder’s bewildered and enlightened eyes disappeared and he heard that word again that he had uttered earlier. “Kassadya!”

That voice again rang out from nowhere, and filled his ears. He then understood that the word ‘Kassadya’ was no common word. It was a name and it was something evil inhabited that name. He knew it was present somehow right there with him, waiting, plotting to be set free, unleashed upon the world. Bolder, felt befuddled and terrified. He knew that he had stumbled upon something malevolent, ready to open the pit of hell.

Bolder took the plate with Kassadya’s image on it. When Bolder’s flesh touched it, there was nothing. Perhaps he had imagined the sensation, but he knew he had not imagined the visions that had already materialized before his eyes, when he held the plates in his hand. Bolder recalled that same sensation that had radiated through his fingers, up through his arm and into his mind when he picked up the plates. All of a sudden, his head recoiled backward and his eyes closed rigidly shut and the images, unknown and known, flew past his closed eyes like a movie had stopped playing on the back of his closed eyelids. Bolder raised his head and he saw the same old underground tunnel that he had descended into, only now, completely ransacked and destroyed. Bolder remembered how the boys Master had patiently spoke with him. Henceforth, you shall wear a mark. Bolder took out his cell phone and clicked on the app that was a mirror. He looked at his face. It looked deathly dark and his eyes were bright orange and glowing. He knew he had cursed himself. Forgiveness is crouching at your door. Harold Bolder came face to face with utter ruin of his soul. He had used God’s glory to cause revenge. He knew what he had to do.

Bolder fell to the dirty floor of the tunnel and his darkened eyes filled with tears. “Oh God, use me for good. Take out the bitterness and the hatred and revenge and use me as your tool! Use me for justice and to right a great wrong. I give you my hatred, my anger my thoughts of murder. I will fight your fight and will seek your face.”

Bolder had changed. He had no fear; he felt strong and knew what he had to do and he had no guilt. Bolder wiped his eyes and peered through the dim light that still shown after he had made a mess of the slightly organized dump. He reached into a hidden pocket in the back of his coat and pulled out a large envelop. He opened it and took out one hundred thousand dollars. He wrote a note that asked them all to forgive him for destroying their home and hoped the money would help them live better and warmer; he signed it, Dark Justice.


Bolder put the money in the middle of the tunnel, on top of his note. He walked up the metal stairs and passed the man he had lifted off the ground. He walked up to him quickly and the man turned to run. Bolder grabbed him and turned him around. He brushed some dirt off the man’s back. “I’m very sorry for disturbing you all tonight.”

“Yeah, right; you think you only a disturbance? You scared us all to death. Hell, we almost called the cops and we hate the cops. What’s wrong with you, anyway? What happened to your face? Is it contagious?”

Bolder smiled and reached into his pocket and took out a wad of bills. “I think you’re the leader down there. When you go back, you’ll see something I left to make your lives better. Hope that makes us even.” Bolder took his hand and put ten one-hundred dollar bills in his palm. “Take care of yourself.”

“I know you; you’re … you’re …”

“I am Dark Justice.”

Four lessons For Willow Morgan - Kassadia's Triumph by Steven Clark Bradley & Selin Alicia Bradley

Chapter Three

“Oh God, I have wanted and have tried to do right, to maintain the order; to keep my people on the road to reason and righteousness. You have kept me and my family safe all these years. Until now, you are the only one to have shed blood for me; now I am willing to be or do what you see fit. Protect our Willow, I beg you. ”

Walter Morgan lay flat on his back; looking upward toward God and thoughts came and went about his arm, but his mind never left his daughter. It was indeed gone, but as though it had never been there. He could not be so patient concerning her.

“She was the natural order and it must be given to her!” he cried out.

His eyes drifted to the cavern ceiling and sort of looked through it, as his mind peered through time while summoning back his recollection of his thirteenth birthday. It was then he, just like his beloved little girl, Willow, had embarked upon his newly-found understanding of who he was and what his great responsibility would be to the Neph, as the keeper of the Realm.

“That’s why I buried it here in the first place; so it would be far enough away from me that I couldn’t give it up no matter what the consequences would be.” Then, his father’s voice seemed to invade his thoughts.

“Young man, this is the time to take hold of the Scepter; to let it take hold of you as its protector, its bearer and its crown. It is the sign of the covenant between our kind and the Creator. We were an aberration, Walter, outside the box, not according to the plan, but The King has great tender mercies. He made a way for us to have peace with Him, but only a part of our lot has bowed before the King. It is for that this Scepter was given to us, not as an idol, but as a visible sign of our submission to the one who made the way with his blood. Now, hold out your right arm, Walter.”

~~~

“Why didn’t you tell me your name was Melek?”

“Miss Willow…” Melek saw Willow cross her arms in disgust. “Yes, I mean Willow. You are a persnickety one, aren’t you, but it suits you. Actually Willow, I do not recall your asking me my name, but I could be wrong. We are not perfect creatures. The dark thing we just cast down was once my dear friend, but he chose the way of his master. He is proof enough that we are frail like your kind, and you got the same frailties on both sides.” Melek said in a half-hearted jest.

Willow rolled her eyes and Melek continued. “Anyway, this is not about me. And, you will soon see that the things you shall encounter will make you either a queen of great deeds and service for your kind, or a vassal of a dark ruler who shall never allow you an ounce of freedom.”

“But you said my father was in danger.” Melek nodded his head. “Well, we had better get our cool selves over there then, don’t you think. I have to save my father.” Willow insisted with tears in her eyes. “Father…”

~~~

“I’m afraid.” Walter Morgan heard his younger voice travel through his mind again.

“Yes, and it gives me peace to know it too, Walter.” his father said with a positive and victorious voice. “That means you have taken it sincerely, for indeed becoming the Supreme Leader of a countless number of Nephs, of which many are, as of yet, unaware of their difference, is a bold task, my boy. There are many who have never yet sprouted their wings; a phenomenon that no one can explain. And, the number always stays the same, too; one hundred and forty-four thousand, Walter.

“What you are taking hold of and the role you shall now play, to say the least, my son, is no easy task. But, I have great confidence in you. You are a strong one, as will be your kin. Yet, have no confidence in your strength. In that, we are no different than the humans around us. We and they must all trust in God, and to uphold His covenant, which was sealed in pure blood.” Walter recalled the unforgettable expression of pain, determination and fear that overtook his father’s face, at that moment.

“My son, there are only three things that I have determined that I would relinquish my life for. Two of them are your mom and you. Since we lost mom last year that just leaves two huge parts of my life I am prepared to die for.”

Samuel Morgan got down on one knee and peered into his son Walter’s eyes. “You know, I would not even think about it, Walter. If you were in danger, I’d die to preserve your life, without a thought or regret.” Samuel hugged young Walter Morgan and a much older Walter Morgan saw it in his mind as he lay on the cave floor still going over all the things that had brought him to such a low point in his life.

“Walter, I am proud of you and so proud to be your father. Yet, there is one who is over you and over all. It is He who forgave us, transformed us and set us free. To him I can yield all, because I know he can do no wrong and is pure and holy. You can be no less sure of your fate, for trouble shall follow you and you’ll need to know when to make a cry for help…”

Walter opened his eyes and stared, for a moment up at the cave ceiling. His brain told him to move his right arm, but it was gone. He pushed himself up with his left arm and got on his one hand and knees.

“I only get one of these in a lifetime, so I had better make it good!”

He heaved and shook and his skin opened across his back as great shimmering black and purple and blue colored wings unfolded. He rose to his feet and his face began to shine, and he reared back and hurled a deafening cry, heard by no human, but which wailed in the ears of every Neph alive, sprouted or still in hiding.

Willow, help me!”

Throughout every nation, in every city and into the ears of every Neph, Walter Morgan’s cry blasted forth causing some in certain parts of the world awaken in fear and terror while others, in other areas to scream in fear at the sound that no one else around them had heard, including Willow. Many of them instantly sprouted their wings, leaving them in shock.

~~~

“Dad!” Willow cried out. Her head turned almost instinctively to the sound and she knew where it had come from.

“Angel, Melak, what was your name again?”

“Miss Willow … whatever! That is how you use that expression, isn’t it?” Willow looked exasperated, but she answered him patiently. “Yes, that was pretty good, in fact.” Melek smiled and was obviously proud of himself.

“I think I am finally mastering it.”

“You mean the language?”

“No, I mean you humans.”

“Well, it appears,” Willow looked behind her and caught a glimpse of her wings. “I am not exactly … human.”

“That is true, Miss Willow, but you act just like them.”

Willow wondered if that was a compliment or a cut-down. She determined it was a mixture of both. “Anyway, Malachi, I heard my father’s voice come from down below in the caverns. I know them well, but you cannot tell my father. I’ll get grounded for sure if he learns how many times I went wandering around. I certainly don’t want grounded, now that I have wings.”

“It’s Melek, and he knew every time, Miss Willow.”

“Knew every time what?”

“Your father knew where you were every time you escaped without his permission, because I told him.”

“You are such a loser, Meleki!” She smiled because she knew she was getting on his angelic nerves each time she wasted his name.


“It is Melek, quite easy actually, if you just try. That was your father’s voice you heard. He has exercised the rite. As the King of all Nephs, he can hurl one time only.’ Melek looked at Willow who had a very worried look across her face.

“Then, that means he’s in big trouble, doesn’t it, Milton?” In spite of her fear, even Willow laughed.

“I am so happy to be a Watcher.” Melek responded. “That took away any possibility of ever being your father.” They both laughed and leaped into the sky.


~~~

Walter Morgan fell to his knees and his wings folded up into his back and he raised his one arm toward the Keeper of the covenant.

“Oh God, I have sought to do what your word told us. I did not do it to find grace with you, because I found that grace through your deeds, and not those of my own. I have sought to please you, but look at me, now.” He thought about Willow and the danger she was in. He remembered his father’s words when he had told Walter he was willing to die for his son. Walter knew he would do no less for his Willow.

“Oh God, I should have been more responsible. My father even warned me about Kassadia.” Walter shouted with tears in his eyes and heard his father’s voice again, in his ears.

“Yet, Walter, my son, even now a new lord of the dark-Hearts has been decreed, this one will grow into the most ruthless and heartless of all the black-Hearts and he shall stop at nothing to get this symbol forged in the same blood as it was with all flesh. He shall seek to corrupt our kind’s peace between God and the Neph. This dark warrior is only different than us because of a plague of darkness, which all humans and all the Neph have as well, except for our faith in the one who cleansed us and who was wounded for us all, which the Dark Hearts have rejected. His name is Kassadia.”

Young Walter Morgan played the name through his mind and it even sounded frightening to him. His face turned a bit ashen and his father saw it.

“Walter, it is OK to be afraid sometimes, and deathly dangerous at others. Fear can be your friend in keeping you on the right path. To fear Him who formed you and pardoned you is the very start of the understanding needed to defeat Kassadia.

“Don’t let the name scare you. It is but a name, and he was not always so … dark. He failed at what you are hoped to achieve, and darkness spread throughout all the land of humans and the Neph. If he wins the Scepter, The Neph will be eliminated.

“As Kassadia’s hand spreads darkness, it will grow and our kind, and those we live amongst will become more and more accustomed to the dark magic of the Dark-Hearts, and the covenant of blood will be abandoned. He will become clever and ready to stop at nothing to get what he wants; your power and your authority, this scepter.

“He will be your greatest adversary with but one call upon his leadership; to wage a never-ending struggle to get to the top where he intends even to defy God, as the master he seeks serves did long ago. It is his unction to get the Golden Scepter and to use it for wickedness.”

Walter Morgan saw his younger self hold out his right arm.


“Walter Morgan, will you uphold the truce with the dark-hearts and will you always seek to be a peacemaker?”

“I … will seek peace with those who can be peaceable.” The boy said with a quivering apprehensive tone. “I will make war with those who seek to break the covenant.”

“Your word has been given and your word is believed by your sacred honor. You have acquired the needed knowledge through the four lessons.

“Now, my son, take this Scepter from me, as I give it freely without remorse. It has now released my claim, having willed it to you and I now pass it onto you.” Samuel Morgan looked at his son Walter for a moment and smiled and spoke softly.”

“Now, take hold of it and become a man after God’s own heart.”


Young Walter Morgan looked down at the pure golden Scepter his father held out for him to take. The base of the Scepter was round and the precious metal, which was engraved with leaves from the tree of life, shimmered in the light. A long ornate stem, embedded with rubies, and emeralds, rose up from the bottom in a manner that was twisted into a beautiful design that told the bearer of the Scepter that what lay ahead of them was a call of intricacy, uncertainty and reliance on the King of Kings.

On top of the golden stem was a round design that resembled a golden, jewel-incrusted sun flower that had thin, long, golden needles all around the design that naturally drew the eyes to the center of the round top of the Scepter, which held a huge red diamond, the worth of which had to be inestimable. There was an inscription on it that showed the ancient quality of the symbol of peace and power. It read, “Then the king extended the gold scepter to Esther and she arose and stood before him.” Walter’s father realized how awestruck his son was.

“Yes, Walter, this is the same Scepter that was given to Esther when the King of Assyria chose her to be his queen more than three thousand years ago. She, of course, was no Neph. Yet, she was willing to be the queen of a foreign monarch to save her people from their enemies. Are we not doing the same thing? We are not Watchers. We are not humans. Still for the sake of our people we maintain our secrecy and we only act when called upon for good. Now claim it, and never let it fade away and preserve it.”

Walter’s mind painted the picture before him and he recalled grasping the golden Scepter. He felt like it was almost magnetic as it seemed to pull his hand toward it and the small hairs on his arm leaned forward toward the Scepter.

Walter’s memories showed the young boy reaching out to grasp the scepter. He heard a rumbling sound and he felt the windows rattling a loud pounding sound seemed to fill the whole house. He looked out the window and saw the face of an angry young man, around Walter’s own age, peering inside with a furious expression across his face. He was hitting the windows as hard as he could even though he knew he could not take the scepter in that manner now. His would have to be of a more sinister nature, sometime in the future. Walter recalled his feelings of fear and confusion.

“He is your nemesis, my son. Kassadia is enraged. He is too late, and he knows it, but he will not fail to disrupt your rule, to break the covenant and to rule the Dark Hearts with evil intent and destruction. Son, after lots of study and direct talks with God, I have come to the conclusion that the Dark Hearts are spiritually insane. They should know the could never overcome the maker, lest everything simply cease to be. Yet, they refuse to yield their souls. They hate to be controlled, and they will do anything to win their power back.” Samuel Morgan looked at his son and flat on his back inside a cave underneath an ancient temple, in the land of cave-dwellers, Walter saw it clearly in his mind. The words his father spoke to him in his memory from the past meant more to him now than when he had first heard them.

“Do not try to negotiate, to make; there is no peace to be made with him, for his peace is only for his own selfish ends. Your battle shall never end with him or with his line after him. The battle between light and darkness is an eternal one and you have been entrusted with the battle of the ages. Hold the scepter and rely on your creator, the one who came amongst us and showed us how to live and then gave his life to save ours. That is love, my son. Kassadia will attack you on all sides, but the Branch, he will never give you more than you can handle.”

“I believe you, my father, and I take this upon me to bear the burden of saving the covenant of the Neph.”

Walter’s hand wrapped around the precious golden symbol and he immediately felt its force invade him and fasten itself to Walter’s being. The two, he and the Scepter became as one and each would eventually become dependent on the other.

Walter suddenly felt a sharp, jabbing pain shoot through his back and shoulders. He felt his insides tearing or more like something that had started working for the very first time. He cried out in pain as his bones repositioned themselves and the skin across his upper back tore open and something like feathers unfolded and then, the pain was gone, and Walter Morgan felt them, the wings his father and mother told him he’d one day sprout, which he had always thought was a joke.

“It only hurt for a moment, and then it was gone.” Walter recalled.

“Yes, my son, that was my experience exactly. Tell me, was it worth it?”

“You mean the tearing flesh, my bones being shoved around and feeling these enormous beautiful things crawl out of my back? Yes father, it was worth it and so much more.”


“Walter, you took on the Scepter before you came into your wings. Your daughter will sprout before she claims the Scepter.”

“My daughter? I am going to have a daughter?”

“That’s but a just a detail right now, my son. It only means she will be exceptional in our history. You, take great heed to protect the Scepter well. Wherever you place it, there is where it should be. If you choose to honor another Neph with this gift, you shall be released from its devotion. If it is claimed and taken by another, without your knowledge or agreement, your arm will crumble into sand and over the next twenty days, you shall turn to dust, unless the Scepter is regained. My son, it is a great honor to take on the Golden Scepter. With the privilege comes great responsibility and personal sacrifice to maintain the covenant’s order…”

A sound that resembled twisting metal filled Walter’s ears and his reflections of his childhood were suddenly forced away. He only heard his father’s last words that day as he came back to his present predicament.

“Kassadia must not get the scepter. He must not find it. He must never have the Scepter.”


Beside him, all around him, the Dark-Hearts had surrounded him and were about to assault the King who had once subdued them. He felt his fallen brothers’ presence, even if he could not see them. Then, it was right there, and appeared suddenly in front of Walter Morgan’s face.

“Walter, Walter, we are really going to talk together, but ... later.” Kassadia said mercilessly shaking his head. Walter tried to extend his wings, but something was sprayed into the air and Walter felt like his eyes had weights on them and in spite of his most earnest effort, he was quickly asleep and a prisoner of Kassadia, the prince of the Dark-Hearts. Kassadia looked at Walter and shook his head in pity.

“I really liked your words you spoke to the Maker, Walter. It was all so very touching. I am such a jerk, sometimes; I know that.” Kassadia said out loud as he looked down at Walter Morgan, the Lord of the Nephs, now under his control. “But I like me that way.” He thought he was being a jerk again and laughed loudly.

“I can even recite that last part. Now, what was that?” Kassadia looked down at Walter Morgan, the King of all the Neph and shook his head. Kassadia laughed and mocked Walter and shook Walters’s unconscious body. “Ah yes, I remember, and I’ll say it with all the disrespect I can muster.” Kassadia sarcastically and rebelliously held up the Scepter, smiled and shouted out the words Walter had spoken before God.

“Look at me now!”


________________________________________


Author Steven Clark Bradley has been to or lived in 34 countries, including Pakistan, Iraq and Turkey. He has a master’s degree in liberal studies from Indiana University. He speaks French and Turkish. He has been an assistant to a prosecutor, a university instructor and a freelance journalist.

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The Republic of Iran has linked up with radical American Militia groups to carry out a covert nuclear attack on America. Colonel Fisher Harrison, the best trained Special Ops killer the military has, is the one person who can effectively retaliate against these adversaries. But Colonel Fisher Harrison was framed for a murder he did not commit by his former boss--now the President of the United States of America. The two adversaries must put aside their differecnes and unite to stop those in league to bring America to its knees.


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Unknown to Wallace Findings, a one-night stand results in twins. The mother is murdered soon after their birth to cover a hideous crime, which sends Findings on an eighteen year hunt for her murderer. One twin is adopted and welcomed into a wonderful life of plenty and privilege. The other is rejected and left an orphan, in a world without identity or care, facing brutal treatment and sexual abuse. This twin seeks out Findings and his sibling and all those who had abandoned him to carry out a plot of revenge. In the end, Findings discovers his role in a baby for sale scheme in which he and his unknown children were victims.



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Probable Cause

Greg Bradford is an escaped mental patient, a man who wants revenge, a man prepared to do anything to get his life back and has a plan to do it. Corbett Mandeville, a homicide detective known for solving some of the worst murders in the state, has to stop him. But, Corbett Mandeville has secrets of his own that created an affinity between him and the vindictive mental patient that drives both to stalk their prey and take justice into their own hands.


____________________________________________________________

Steven worked a number of years in various countries in Europe, Asia, and Africa. He has been to 34 countries and has worked extensively with Kurdish refugees from Turkey, Iraq, and Syria. Steven also established a school by correspondence for African students in the African countries of The Gambia and Senegal West Africa. He is the founder of a Cultural Center for refugees in France, where he lived for six years. Speaking fluently in French and in Turkish, Steven has been in 34 countries. Before returning to the United States in 1995, Steven worked as an instructor of English and Business skills for four years at Bilkent University in Ankara, Turkey.
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Four Lessons For Willow Morgan Part One
by Steven Clark Bradley
& Selin Alicia Bradley


Four Lessons For Willow Morgan Part Two
The Preservation Of The Neph
by Steven Clark Bradley
& Selin Alicia Bradley