Seventeen-year-old Alexander Lyra drank a deep swig from his water bottle as, with his free hand, he wiped away the sweat building up on his forehead. It was a ridiculously hot summer day in the high 90s easily, and he was on his last lawn to mow for the day. At four o'clock in the afternoon, he was usually looking at being on his last stop of the day for his summer lawn mowing that he did for some extra side cash, and he was pretty sure that this was indeed going to be the last one for the day.
He threw his head to one side to get the untidy black hair off his forehead. He placed a hand on his hip as he surveyed the glorious landscape before him through his super dark brown, almost black eyes that his mom always called "girl magnets". Today, he was at one of the bigwigs' lawns today; yes, it was owned by Mr. Feyner himself. He never knew if the successful, now elderly entrepreneur was a billionaire or a millionaire, but he knew this much: the guy was rich. Mega rich. But he was a nice enough guy. Of course, with all his money, he could hire super professional lawn guys to take care of his big lawns, but he preferred to hire Alex and give him a chance. And that was fine with him; after all, the guy paid way better than any of his other clients did throughout the summer. Besides, it was only half an hour away from his home in the New York suburbs, so it wasn't such an unreasonable drive for a good paycheck.
A super neat, organized orchard of all sorts of different fruit trees lay directly ahead of him. He was almost done with this particular lawn, then he would chill a bit in the shade of the orchard before heading back home. Mr. Feyner always let him eat fruit from the orchard, which was a nice way to end the job.
Crushing his empty water bottle and placing it in his pocket, he turned his attention back to the running mower in front of him and resumed the task of pushing it over the fluffy green grass. Once on the other end of the lawn, he shut off the mower and flopped down on the grass underneath the shade of a big apple tree. Old, rotting apples were strewn everywhere on the ground, but up above there were shiny red apples practically dripping from the tree. It was full of them, and they looked more than appetizing to Alex right now.
He got up tiredly and jumped weakly, aiming a snatch at a big plump one hanging low on the tree. He missed it the first time, but tried again and was able to get a hold of it. Then, he plopped down once again, now happily munching on a warm, sun-ripened honeycrisp apple. Life's pretty good, he thought to himself. I'm rolling in the dough from this lawn-mowing gig, grades in school are good, and these apples taste great. Huh, I'm living the life.
He narrowed his eyebrows and munched slower. Wait, no you're not, he chided himself. Something's missing.
He came to a full stop in his chewing for a moment as he thought about it, then his eyes lit up and he resumed chewing. Oh, of course. I don't have a girl. He shrugged. Whatever. I'll get one eventually.
"I can tell that's a real interesting convo you're having with yourself there," said a voice behind him. "Mind letting me in on what the gabfest's about?"
Alex jumped up and whipped around to find out who was speaking to him. A plump young man, maybe around twenty years old, was leaning against the very tree he had been sitting next to. With brown hair buzzed short, he had a big grin on his round face under dark green eyes. Alex wasn't exactly tall, but he wasn't short either. However, this person made him feel tall. He was definitely on the shorter side, and was dressed like some refined Englishman from the 19th-century, from the pocket watch hanging out of his gray vest to the squeaky-clean brown dress shoes he wore. But he didn't have the accent, so Alex decided he must be an American stuck in a rich English fantasy. Most likely, he was a rich friend of Mr. Feyner.
Wiping his hands on his dirty jeans, he suddenly felt conscious of his apparel: from the jeans to the black skater T-shirt hanging loosely off his lean shoulders to the dirty, loosely-tied Vans, he realized he didn't exactly fit into the picture of the wealthy estate. But he was just a lawn mower after all.
He nodded coolly at the plump man. "Thanks for sneaking up on me. And I wasn't thinking of much, just how I'm gonna get myself a girl pretty soon here. Who are you?"
A thick hand was produced forth, and the man touched his forehead in respect, still beaming. "Saint Farnon Tarus, at your service."
Trying not to look overly curious about the title of "Saint", Alex took the hand and shook it. "Alexander Lyra. I'm the lawn-mower around here."
Farnon laughed heartily. "Oh, I bet you are! Fit and handsome, still in high school, wanting to make as much cash as possible to buy nice fancy stuff to get the girls…yep, I probably would have pounced on an opportunity like this too, were I in your shoes. I'm sure Mr. Feyner isn't light on the paychecks."
Alex took offense at this, thinking this rich brat was making fun of his job. "Yeah, well, I didn't grow up with a silver spoon in my mouth, so you gotta do what you gotta do. Some of us actually have to work."
Farnon laughed and clapped Alex on the back. "Oh, you misunderstand me, Alexander. Don't worry, I'm not rich either. No, no, unfortunately not. You see, Mr. Feyner actually doesn't even know I'm here."
Alex backed up slightly, thinking this sounded weird. "Huh? What do you mean?"
Farnon pointed knowingly at him. "You said you were just thinking about getting yourself a girl, weren't you?"
Frustratedly, Alex nodded. "Yeah, yeah, I said that. What does that have to do with anything?"
Farnon spread his arms wide as if it were obvious. "Well, I'm here to help you out with that!"
Sighing in exasperation, Alex ran his fingers through his hair. "Ok, sure. What are you, a practical jokester or something? Go pick on someone else, dude."
He began walking back to his mower, but was stopped again by a holler from Farnon. "You're a pretty good-looking guy, you know. Wonder why you haven't gotten any girls by now…"
When Alex turned around, he saw Farnon rubbing his chin slowly as he looked up at the sky, deep in thought. "What's that supposed to mean?" Alex demanded.
Farnon walked over to him and lightly hit him on the shoulder. "It means something weird's going on, doesn't it?"
This whole situation was getting stranger and stranger to Alex by the moment, but he decided to indulge the plump fellow. "I mean, not really. Sure, my parents and relatives tell me I'm good-looking. But girls have always stayed away from me, so it must just be that my relatives are being nice. I've only ever gotten compliments about my eyes, really."
"You're being too hard on y'self, compadre. Listen here, China, you'd be the top guy in school if something weird weren't going on."
Alex waved his hands irately. "Stop speaking in riddles and just tell me what you mean. Why do you keep saying 'something weird?'"
Farnon's eyes twinkled. "Oh, this is where things get fun."
Without warning, Farnon punched out with surprising speed for one of his size and caught Alex right in the chest. Stunned, Alex stumbled backward, grabbing at the spot that Farnon had punched. Before his very eyes, his surroundings began changing rapidly. Stars and galaxies flew by, light warped from color to color, then everything became black. He closed his eyes in fear, his heart racing. What on earth was going on?
"You can open your eyes now, China."
Alex kept them closed, refusing to open them. His chest heaved up and down as he breathed out, "What…just happened…to me…"
There was an audible sigh from Farnon. "Come on, chumbuckets, let's get those peepers open. Can't give you my grand presentation with your eyes closed, of course."
Alex ventured to open one eye, then the other. The sight that greeted his eyes was hard for him to believe: above, a perfectly clear starry sky could be seen. Millions of stars, galaxies, nebulae, and more were strewn all over a completely black blanket of nothingness. All around him, on the surface, was miles and miles of oceanwater that stretched as far as the eye could see. He and Farnon were standing on a tiny patch of dirt in the midst of all the water, and there was barely enough room for the both of them on this island, if it could even be called that.
The oceanwater gently lapped the edges of the tiny dirt island, but never seemed to get much closer than a couple feet away from their shoes. Wide-eyed with terror, Alex stared at Farnon. "What's going on? Who are you? Are you really a saint? Am I going to hell? Heaven?"
Farnon chuckled. "Oh goodness me, no. And thank goodness I don't have that job. It really would be a tough one, telling people their eternal fate. No, no, you see, Alex, I am your Caller. I'll explain everything in due time. For now, just uh, brace yourself."
Before Alex could respond, the ground opened up underneath them and Alex felt like he was falling once again. He fell faster and faster, but this time he kept his eyes open. Within a few seconds, his speed of falling gradually began decreasing until it was as if he were being gently lowered down by a slow forklift. Then, he felt solid ground underneath his feet again.
"Welcome…to the Nest, Alex." said Farnon theatrically.
Alex walked forward slowly, now completely convinced he was in a dream. They were on a balcony, in some sort of huge, branch-woven dome with trees and bushes all over the place. Green light seemed to glow through every crack in the branches and foliage, and certain plants kept popping up then disappearing all over the place. At the center of the dome's ceiling was a huge green ball of light that hung from a chain. Its light didn't seem to be powered by electricity, however. He shook his head as if to ward off an unwanted effect, but everything stayed the same. It was all too much for him to take in at once.
"So basically," began Farnon, "it's a battle between green and red. If you see someone in red armor, get out of there as fast as you can. See someone with green armor, you're good."
Alex's legs were getting weak. But he had always prided himself in not being one to faint, so he swallowed hard and turned around to face Farnon, as if in a trance. "Why?"
Farnon narrowed his eyebrows. "Why what?"
"Armor…colors…danger…"
Farnon reached up and slapped him lightly on both cheeks. "Earth to Alex. Come on, chumbuckets. Don't act so dumb. We're all still humans, don't worry. Just…different kinds of humans. Humans with special advantages."
He received no answer from Alex, just a blank look. Shaking his head, he placed his hands in his pockets. "You're a Runner for the Legionaires, Alex. In our army, there are five kinds of units: Delves, the big powerful guys who do most of the fighting for us. Signals, the ones who give us all our missions and are head of defensive intelligence. Runners, the ones who do all our reconnaissance stuff. Chokers, the special units who go in groups of four or five to choke out the enemies' supplies, destroy their stations and whatnot." Here, he clicked his tongue and pointed a finger at him. "That's why we call 'em Chokers. Brilliant, isn't it? Anyway, then there's the Callers, the ones with the job of recruiting all new units. I'm a Caller, you're a Runner. This is how we were born. I'm recruiting you, and you're happy to be recruited." He said the last sentence like he didn't really believe it.
Alex shook his head. "What…what do you mean? What am I?"
Farnon took a hand out of one of his pockets to show a green, glistening badge in the shape of a star. It had shimmering gold letters on it. He tapped the letters, drawing Alex's attention to it. "This is what you are, goat."
Alex peered at the bright golden letters which clashed harshly against the neon green of the star. In his mind, he recited the letters one by one: C-A-R-M-A-T-O-R. Then, he attempted a pronunciation: "Car…mater?"
Farnon shook his head. "No, no, they always pronounce it wrong at first. We're car-muh-tores, old bean. You know, 'tore' as in 'I tore my muscle'. It's not 'car-mater'. And thank goodness it's not, because that would just sound plain ridiculous."
Alex looked up at him. "We? So you're one too?"
He received a confident nod in return. "That's right. We're both Carmators. That means lots of things, but the thing you'll probably be most interested in is that it means we have our girls already picked out for us."
Alex shot him a look of alarm. "Excuse me?"
Farnon nodded. "That's right. Like it or not, she's your girl."
"Who?" Alex asked incredulously.
Farnon shrugged. "I just know her first name: Dahlia. Know nothing else about her. She's getting called by my colleague right now, Saint Yvonne."
"Dahlia? Not Dahlia Tanklin, surely? She's in my class!"
"Ah, yes, Yvonne did mention something about you two being in the same class. Cool beans, now at least we won't be having to introduce total strangers to one another!"
Alex shook his head. "I refuse to believe any of it. I must be hallucinating. Someone slipped me a mickey. Someone made me sniff."
Farnon yawned hugely, the double chins squeezing tightly together before relaxing again as he closed his mouth. "Ok, whatever. What you want yourself to believe doesn't change reality, however. Whether you choose to believe it or not, you were born a Legionaire and that's the way it will remain for the rest of your life. You can't run from it. The Nestburns will come after you either way. Rumor has it, they already have been trying to."
"The Nestburns?"
"Yes, the Nestburns. Put in the simplest way possible, they're our mortal enemies. They're our worst nightmare and we're their worst nightmare. They have red armor, and their whole goal in life, no wait, goals in life are two things: number one, to be jerks. Number two, to destroy the Nest."
Alex had so many questions. Questions he wished he could just immediately know the answer to. "Why? Why do they want to destroy the Nest? How do I know I'm on the good side?"
Farnon waved his hands, a big grin splitting across his face. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, calm down, fella. I can only answer things one at a time. How do you know you're on the good side? Well, I guess you'll have to find that out for yourself in due time. Why do they want to destroy the Nest? 'Cause they're jerks. Also because we all used to be part of the same family at one point, then a disagreement came about amongst half the clan as to what our status among humans should be. Some people didn't even want to be called 'humans' anymore. Some people thought they were way above humans. Those of us who said 'Nuh uh, we're all still humans and don't you forget it' are now what's known as 'Legionaires'. The ones who are stuck-up twigs with the idea stuck in their heads that they're not humans anymore are the 'Nestburners'. They're out to destroy the Nest and, probably eventually, they also hope to control humanity."
Farnon shrugged. "Typical bad guys versus good guys trying to save the world stuff. Except it's actually reality, not in some book or movie."
But Alex had more questions. "What even is the Nest?"
Farnon held up a hand. "First, take off your shirt."
Alex stared at him. "Huh?"
Farnon gestured at his shirt. "Your shirt. Don't worry, goat, I'm not going to brand you. You've already been branded. We just need to see what your branding is."
Alex still wasn't convinced. "My branding? What the heck are you talking about?"
"I punched you in the chest for a reason. That's your 'activation zone'. Only a Legionaire's Caller knows where his activation zone is. Most of the time it's on your chest. In your case, it is. Oh, and before you ask what a 'Caller' is, I'm basically your guide. I'm here to explain everything to you, get you set up, the works. And it was my job to give you your call to duty. Most of the time you get your calling during teenage years, but early teenage years. You're a late bloomer because we had trouble figuring out who your Carmator was. But we're near-positive that it's Dahlia. Naturally, we can't call Cormators until we find out who the love of their life is going to be."
Alex looked horrified. "But what if I don't like her? Like, at all?"
Farnon shrugged helplessly. "Not up to me, China. And is this you telling me you never liked her anyway?"
Alex shook his head. "Not necessarily. I mean, we've barely ever even spoken with each other."
"Well, whatever, it doesn't matter. You gotta like her, or at least try to. Because you're stuck with each other for the rest of your lives. If anything happens to her, you lose your Legionaire status. And if anything happens to you, she loses her Legionaire status. You're permanently linked to one another." Farnon looked over the balcony distractedly and scanned the mossy floor below, where numerous people of various sizes and colors walked around busily, each one apparently with something very important on their mind. The only common factor amongst them all was that they all wore some sort of glowing green armor. Some were completely covered in it, others wore just a breastplate, helmet, or other pieces of armor.
"But enough stalling," said Farnon. "Get your shirt off here or we can do it down there, where everyone will see. Your choice."
Without really knowing what he was doing or why he was even obeying this guy in the first place, Alex pulled off his shirt and looked down his chest. Two months of dedicated lawn-mowing every day after school had really molded him into shape. He never really looked at himself in the mirror, so he was almost surprised to find he had a crisp six-pack. He raised his eyebrows, mildly impressed with himself.
Then he shook his head as he remembered he was supposed to be looking for some sort of brand or mark. Farnon reached out and flicked him directly on the center of his chest. He watched as before his very own eyes, thin red lines began etching themselves across his pectorals. They travelled at a slow pace, curving here and there until finally, the two lines met and a symbol was shown: a heart with a drop falling out the bottom point of it. Whether it was a tear drop or a drop of blood, Alex didn't know.
He looked up indignantly at Farnon. "A heart? That's what I get? How fem is that!"
Farnon was deeply interested in it, too. "Extremely interesting…most interesting, indeed."
"Why is a heart so interesting?"
Farnon shook his head. "No, no, the heart doesn't matter at all. Not at all. No, it's that…well, your Legionaire symbol was etched on you as if it were a Nestburn symbol. It's in red, see?"
Alex suddenly remembered Farnon's words from only a few moments ago: So basically, it's a battle between green and red.
Alex studied his eyes. "So what does that mean?"
The carefree, playful smile which had been hovering around Farnon's face up until this point was strangely gone now, as his forehead creased into a deep frown. "Well, what it means, old bean, is that you have to get back home for now. Time in the Saga doesn't stop while you're in the Nest, you know." Distractedly, he added, "The Saga is the world as you know it. That's what we call it down here."
"So what," replied Alex, "I just head back home and act like everything's alright? Yeah, for sure, everything's dandy. I just found out I'm part of some creepy cult thing, thrown in the middle of a family feud against my will and apparently I have superpowers from a chubby guy dressed like an old Englishman. Definitely just another normal day in the life of Alexander Holt Lyra."
Farnon placed his hands deep in his pockets and looked at him straight on. "Well firstly, get your shirt back on, you dewang. Rest assured, most the girls around here already have their man. No need to be flexing the six pack everywhere. Secondly, yes, you're most definitely going to think this all was a dream when you get back home. You're going to fall asleep, wake up in the morning, and be absolutely convinced that none of it was real. Maybe that you fell asleep in the orchard after eating a weird apple and it gave you goofy dreams. Something like that. Either way, that's where I come in; another visit tomorrow at around this same time will quickly remind you that this is indeed reality and hopefully after that you won't be forgetting it much."
Alex had no response. By now, he just felt like nothing was real. That he couldn't even trust his own heartbeat. Whatever was going on right now, he had no answers and he didn't like it. He did just want to head home now. "Ok, whatever you say. And how do you expect me to get back home? Just walk over the ocean back to my house?"
Farnon placed a hand to his chest, demonstrating. "When you want to leave the Nest, it's as simple as placing your hand on your chest and willing yourself to return to the Saga. Try it. You might not get it the first time, but I'll leave you up here to try it a few times 'til you get it right, eh?" With that, he placed two hands on the wooden balcony rail. "Well, until next time then, Alex. Ciao!"
Effortlessly, he launched himself over the balcony rail and fell the full forty-some-odd-feet distance down to the mossy floor below. Alex watched with bated breath as he fell, and was almost unsurprised as he saw Farnon land on it unharmed. The chubby guy just kept walking forward without missing a beat, and disappeared into the busy crowd of green-armored Legionaires.
Alex closed his eyes and leaned against the railing. Almost feeling stupid for doing it, he placed a hand to his chest and prayed hard that it would work. After a few seconds, the air on his face suddenly felt warm again. He opened his eyes to find himself back in Mr. Feyner's orchard, in the same exact place he had been when he was punched into the Nest. It was dusk, so he had obviously been gone a couple hours, even though it hadn't seemed like he was gone that long. Did time pass even faster when in the Nest? He didn't know, and he decided he didn't care.
He looked to his left to find that his mower was still there. He looked past the neatly-cut lawns and to the pristine-looking stone driveway in front of the shiny black gates, and saw that his dad's pickup truck which he had used to get here was still there. Good thing Mr. Feynman was out today, otherwise he might've been kept wondering why his teenage lawn mower was trying to stay the night in his orchard.
Still feeling as if he were in a trance, Alex grabbed hold of his mower and began pushing it toward the pickup. Already, he was beginning to doubt himself, doubt the experience he had just had. There was no way it was all real. He definitely fell asleep out in that orchard. He definitely was getting way too desperate for a girl.
I mean, come on: a girl destined just for him? It was the stupidest thing straight out of a teenage fantasy novel you could pick up at the local bookstore. Maybe he was doing too much lawn-mowing. Maybe it was tiring him out too much both physically and mentally. What it was, he didn't know. But what he did know was that he couldn't wait to get home and plop down in bed and try his best to forget about all this.
He silently loaded up the mower and drove home.
About the Author
Elazar J. Fredenburg is an eighteen-year-old author from the Bay Area, California. If he's not shooting hoops with the guys, making a point-and-click puzzle video game, or writing new compositions on the piano, he's probably at his desk writing the next installment of his latest book series. Writing all sorts of novels in genres ranging from grand fantasy to sci-fi to romance, Elazar just enjoys writing, and enjoys giving other people the pleasure of reading his writings. If he can put a smile on your face from a character's joke, get your heart beating as the protagonist chases down the antagonist in a deadly dangerous pursuit, or bring tears to your eyes from the heroic death of a noble character, then he's satisfied enough. Elazar writes to move audiences and perhaps inspire them to create their own worlds in which they can mold characters, nurture plotlines, and write something worthy of being passed on to the next generation.
He currently works on his web novel, Carmators, which can be found on WebNovel and other online reading platforms. The biggest endeavor he's had in the genre of romance, he's excited to hear what readers think of it and hopefully publish many more seasons in the future.
Elazar can be found on both his subreddit and discord server, where he daily engages with readers and turns an ear to any feedback or critique they might have. Feel free to join now and tell Elazar what you think of his work!
Discord: discord.gg/JJg2pgvmaN
Subreddit: www.reddit.com/r/EJFBooks/