The Quantum Prophecy by Ryan Matthew Harker (books to read to increase intelligence .TXT) 📖

yes, the Immortal Mercenary Elite Corps. Well, now I know the three of you and you know me but who are you two?” Jin looked to the witch and the scientist.
Farewethor squared her shoulders proudly. “I am Witch Farewethor, thaumaturgical member of High King Zakeriah’s Magician Consultans.”
“I’m Doctor Maximillian Kimbal, a physicist from Earth,” Max said simply. “I don’t suppose you have anything to drink?”
Jin smiled, “Nothing alcoholic Earthman and I’m sure that’s what you are after. I can offer you a most pleasing selection of non-alcoholic beverages.”
Max declined looking more than a little disappointed and the monk nodded his head. “Anyone else?” He nodded again after the rest of the group had also declined.
“Well then,” he said. “Now that we are all acquainted I can answer your question young man.” Looking at Candlelite he continued, “Not everyone on AnEerth will know your identity, no. In fact I would be surprised if many would recognize you on sight, although there will be a few and there are more than a few now who are aware of your presence in our world.”
Candlelite regarded the old monk for a moment before he asked, “And who are you exactly? What is this place?”
Jin looked quizzically at Jeshux. “You are the leader? You brought them here?” They had been more statements than questions proper but when Jeshux nodded Jin asked, “And you told them nothing?”
“No,” the soldier answered. “We were sort of pressed for time.”
“Ah yes, the king,” Jin’s brows furrowed and he turned back to Candlelite and Absinthe. “This, as you know, is the Midnight Monastery. I, Jinnihannahowuu, am the Monk Manager and Keeper of the Prophetic Teachings. These are wisdoms that include, but are not limited to, the prophecy of the Werewolf Candlelite and the Nameless She-Bear. In other words I am a seer and an oracle.” Jin smiled, something Candlelite was noticing the old monk did quite a bit of.
“So you can see the future,” Absinthe said delighted.
“Oh no, at least not in the manner that you imply, there are no true seers or oracles alive today. At least that we know of. The ones who do exist are only tellers of knowledge already divined, such as the prophecy dealing with your arrival. You see, for some reason that none have yet to fathom, none of the prophecies can be recorded in the traditional way. Instead with the passing of one seer or oracle the knowledge that the person has is transferred, or imprinted rather, into the mind of whichever of his or her apprentices which has been deemed suitable. Only in this way can the prophetic wisdoms be saved, passed on from generation to generation.”
“Quite unbelievable,” Max interjected. “And you say there aren’t any more new guys?”
Jin shook his head sadly. “There have been no new visions in almost nine hundred years. Not since the time of the last great seer, the Prophet Elijah.”
“And what did he predict?” Absinthe asked.
“That I can not divulge,” Jin told her.
“And why is that?” Absinthe resorted to her best petulant little girl voice.
“Now, now child,” Jin nodded his head and smiled. “Do not take that tone. I do not deny you this knowledge out of spite but out of necessity. There is a time when the general revelation of a prophecy will do the most good, too soon or too late and things may turn catastrophic. The time to reveal Elijah’s teachings has not arrived.”
“Oh, ok,” she said. “I guess that makes sense.”
“Shouldn’t prophecy be impartial?” Max spoke up.
“What?” Jin asked.
“Shouldn’t prophecy be impartial?” Max repeated. “You said that there was a time when a prophecies revelation would do the most ‘good’. I’ve always considered prophecy, in concept, to be a thing of neutrality not something that takes sides.”
“Ah,” Jin nodded his head. “This is true. Prophecy is a thing of neutrality and to the extent of relaying the truth of the prophecy the prophet must remain impartial. This does not mean that a prophet must be impartial. A prophet is still a person, is still a man or woman and as such is a creature that possesses morals and a value system, which will ultimately lead them down a path of either good or evil. This is what I meant by saying that a prophecy may do good.”
“Ok,” Max said satisfied. “So what are we doing here?”
“You have asked for sanctuary,” Jin answered. “Beyond that I cannot tell you. I only know your fate; I do not know the path by which it shall be achieved.”
“Great,” Candlelite muttered.
“That’s not a problem,” Jeshux said.
“It’s not?” Candlelite sounded a bit sarcastic.
“No,” Jeshux replied evenly. “You all want to know what we’re going to do next. I know what I’m going to do next and it involves you staying here.”
“So you’re leaving?” Absinthe ventured.
“Yes.”
“And we’re supposed to stay here?” Absinthe began to heat up.
Jeshux looked at Candlelite. “You sure did find yourself a feisty one.” And then to Absinthe, “You don’t have to stay here.”
“So we’re not prisoners again?” she looked unsure.
Jeshux smiled at her and said, “Now why would I go through all of the trouble of busting you out of one prison just to bring you to another?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “But I don’t know that you wouldn’t either. What’s your agenda? Why are you doing this? What is it motivating you?”
Again Jeshux smiled. “Very good,” he said. “You’re right; you don’t know anything about me. Let me try and reassure you then that my motives are entirely honorable. I’m doing what I’m doing because I was asked to and because I believe the two of you can help. But I don’t believe that the two of you are going to be able to do any good if all of your actions are dictated to you. This is why I said if you feel it’s necessary you're free to leave. I’m going to ask you to stay here until I get back though.”
“And why should we do that?” Candlelite asked.
“Because I’m going to get information that may prove valuable to our cause so I am going to come back. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone for though and in the meantime I believe that not only will the Midnight Monastery be the safest place for you to stay but it’ll also be a place where you can learn some valuable skills.”
Jeshux eyes narrowed and suddenly the man looked like the cold, hard military commander he was. “Son, whether you like it or not you’re in the middle of a war. A war that you were born into, that was forced upon you, but a war none-the-less. Because of fate you have been allotted a special place in this war and although you have special abilities beyond anything ever seen, at least by anyone on AnEerth, you don’t know the first thing about warfare.’
“But you expect us to be able to learn these things,” Candlelite speculated.
“Precisely,” Jeshux confirmed. “But more than that you’re also going to have to learn something about AnEerth, about its people, its culture, a little of our history and our way of doing things. As you may have noticed, although we have technology far superior to anything your Earth has ever developed, this technology is only a supplement. While Earth evolved along a technological path AnEerth was evolving along a path of magic. This is the only reason our technology is so supreme, because we have the magic with which to craft it.”
Suddenly Max interrupted, “Sorry, this is maybe a little off the subject, but you said these kids have abilities the likes of which the people of AnEerth have never seen. And before, back at the Complex you said something else that’s relevant. Now, in the young ladies case, there are primitive cultures on Earth that have traditions that cover Absinthe with tales of shape shifters who can take on many forms, animal or otherwise and as far as Candlelite goes, why on Earth we have myths and folklore dating back centuries that speak of werewolves, men who in the light of the full moon transform into wolves.”
“Be that as it may,” Jin supplied. “We of AnEerth have no such tales. Our werewolves are only dumb animals, smarter than your average canine and able to be trained by men but animals just the same.”
“Ok, I can buy that,” Absinthe chimed in. “But to get back to what Jeshux was saying for just a moment. Do you expect us to learn magic?”
Jeshux turned his steely gaze to hers. “I expect that magic may be just one of many things that you may be inclined to learn while I’m gone.” And then he raised an eyebrow. “If, that is, you decide to stay.”
“You’re going back to Earth?” Max inquired.
“Among other places yes. There are some people here that I’ll need to contact also but inevitably I’ll end up back on Earth.”
“I’m staying here,” Max told him.
Jeshux reached over and clamped a hand on his shoulder. “Good. I was going to suggest that you did.”
Candlelite looked over at Absinthe and searched her face for something. Seeming to find what he was looking for he nodded and told Jeshux, “I guess we’ll be staying also, at least for a little while.”
“Excellent!” Jeshux clapped his hands together. “You’ll be in good hands here. I’m going to leave first thing tomorrow morning. Farewethor, I’d like you to come with me in order to supply my transportation needs while I’m on AnEerth. I’m going to take six of my men with me and the other six I’m going to leave here. After I’ve concluded my business here I’ll leave through the Harashna and send Farewethor back. That way you’ll know when I’ve gone back to Earth and you can begin to await my return.”
The old soldier looked about the circle at the tired expressions around him. “So, is there anything else?” He received silence in answer to his query, grunted and said, “I suppose we’re all hungry and tired so let’s eat and then get some sleep.”
The people rose slowly from the rug. Jin, nodding and smiling, waited for everyone to get to his or her feet and then led them from the room.


It was noon when McAriicoys was informed that Tol had returned. Meeting the obviously trail worn man he was immediately worried. Tol was dirty, he stank, and his clothes, torn and tattered, were covered in blood, not all of which was his. He was also alone and that in itself was definitely not a good sign.
“Tol, Death’s head man, what happened?”
Tol looked up at McAriicoys from the spot he had been staring at on the floor. His eyes were haunted, with dark circles under them but they were still clear and bright. He smiled. The expression was sad and not a little forced. He made some offhand gesture.
“Damnit man, I can’t understand you!” McAriicoys said exasperated. His frustration was not aimed at the deaf mute though but at his own inability to communicate. As a ranking officer he should have learned the special language that was employed by the spies long ago.
“Don’t worry,” he said and placed a hand on the other man’s shoulder. “You’re obviously exhausted. Instead of putting you through all of this right now I want you to go get some rest. When you’re ready you can type up your report and deliver it to me.” Then he grew serious and locked his gaze with Tol’s. “As long as you’re ok with that, if you think that whatever it is you have to tell me can wait. Can it wait, Tol?”
Tol hesitated for a minute, maybe more,