Known Afterlife (The Provider Trilogy: Volume I)

Known Afterlife

The Provider Trilogy: Volume I

by Trey Copeland

Copyright © 2014

Smashwords Edition

ISBN: 978-1-62137-237-0

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 1

Steffor knew from experience that the serpent would not strike. One more errant stride and the two-ton reptile would cover the hundred-foot stretch of branch between them in a blink. But not an inch closer. He sat down, confident the ancient carnivore would neither attack nor move from his perceived concealment.

Settled in one of the many grooved pockets bored into the small branch, he relaxed and contemplated deeper on the predictable nature of snakes. The snake, and dozens of other reptiles, for that matter, had managed to survive long before man emerged. It had survived by relying on honed calculations; threads used to weave the fabric of its genetic make-up. The snake survived because it was secure in its strengths while being mortally aware of its weaknesses.

But we allow it to survive, Steffor thought. We, the Guardians, could destroy every species of viper and constrictor known to the Provider. But we do not. We choose to live with the snake, going out of our way to ensure its survival.

Steffor concentrated on the serpent's camouflaged trap, admiring its involved skill and attention to detail. You're a wily veteran, aren't you, Steffor said, loud enough for the creature to sense the vibrations of his voice.

The hidden trap lay deep within one of nature's many intersections overgrown with bushy evergreen vines. Three small branches, no wider than thirty feet, forked upward from the larger limb. Each branch grew several hundred feet into the open sky before mingling into the broad-leafed canopy above. There, the snake laced the bottom third of its long, emerald-colored body around the three branches. The remaining two-thirds lay coiled, camouflaged within the thick vegetation and prominent root veins. Patient, it waited, ready to strike at any unsuspecting prey traveling along the trail.

You'll catch a hearty meal by the end of this day, that much I am sure, Steffor chuckled. Certainly more fulfilling than my paltry carcass. The truth of the statement sobered him. It was the subtext behind his compulsion to ponder the predictability of snakes. Moreover, it was the symbolic distinction separating man from other animals.

From the west, sun rays crept through an interlacing maze of stem and branch. Chirps, purrs, and croaks rose from the surrounding wilderness and ushered in the gentle press of morning. Steffor set his mind adrift on the cool breeze sweeping across the branch and considered man's dominion over the Provider's wild kingdom, a quandary vexing him of late.

Guardians often aided isolated estuary villages and harvest Shifters by relocating snakes. For that matter, he had applied his unique shifting skills on a myriad of creatures posing a lethal threat to the defenseless Citizens.

The work epitomized the symbiotic relationship between Guardian and the other three races. The experience taught them early about the essence of their role, both within the Provider's ordained society and nature itself. It demonstrated how Guardians could, among other actions, persuade predators to find a meal elsewhere. The benevolent act preserved the harmonious balance man had fostered with his fellow animals.

Intuitively, Steffor sensed those ancient, preordained roles were the root cause of his contemplation.

Despite our souls inhabiting the body and mind of the only apparent life forms capable of controlling the Provider's boundless energy, are we any less predictable?

Diminutive in size and population compared to the other animals and plant species, man's ancestors had discovered how to shift the Source out of the same primal need to survive.

Have we not come to rely on our own set of instincts forged into our make-up over thousands of generations? Does our spiritual connection to Source and Provider make us any different? Steffor did not ask these questions out of concern for man's ongoing ability to maintain their utopian existence. It was an undeniable intuition, telling him the Provider's Citizens had reached both a physical and spiritual crossroads.

The distinct sound of the Source shifted off stem and leaf—a subtle mixture of dampish thuds and electric hums—emanated from the canopy above and disrupted his ruminations. Steffor leaped from his resting place and turned around just in time to see Vejax burst from the canopy, flying headfirst. With the practiced ease of a bird landing on its perch, the Guardian completed a half-flip, shifted a blue convex burst of the Source beneath his feet to break his fall, and stuck a perfect landing.

Huh? What d'ya think of that kid? his friend jabbed, striking a mock victory pose with arms outstretched. You think you got what it takes to hang with that kind of talent today?

Clearly, I should turn back now and save myself the humiliation, Steffor replied with a smirk as he moved toward Vejax.

No, don't do that. There is no other I would rather defeat today than you, Vejax professed, cocky as ever. It is refreshing to have some decent competition for once.

I am simply honored to be in the same race with two legendary Guardians such as Grimlock and yourself. Much less for the opportunity to be the third qualifier in this season's annual championship, Steffor quipped, showing no sign of intimidation to the man fifty seasons his senior.

Vejax winced at the backhanded compliment as Steffor's smirk evolved into a satisfied grin. Aware of Vejax's inflated ego when it came to the Dive, Steffor knew the comparison to Grimlock—an inferior Dive competitor to Vejax—was a jab hitting the mark. Vejax was the reigning champion for the past eighteen seasons. He was at the top of his game, and everyone knew it. Today, a nineteenth straight victory would break a record that had stood for over two hundred seasons, a feat certain to lock his name into the Deeds.

The two shared a rugged embrace. Vejax then turned sideways and, with an exaggerated genuflection accompanied by a flick of his wrist, gestured Steffor to lead the way. Before proceeding, Steffor looked over his shoulder and bid farewell to the snake.

May the eternal balance of life and death be preserved in your hunt today, old warrior.

A half-mile from their mutual starting point, they came to a fork in the branch where it merged with its twin and the primary bough from which both grew. Without pause, they turned to the southeast at the intersection and continued on their way down the twin. A thinner version of its sibling, the branch grew downward with sharp and steady bends. Side-by-side, they hiked down the narrow path shifted into the flaky, scree-like bark overgrown with dense vegetation.

How do you plan on avoiding my power? Vejax asked after traveling a few miles in silence.

The Provider always shows the way, Steffor said as he shrugged his massive shoulders.

Not satisfied, Vejax pushed the issue. Many a more seasoned Guardian has thought the same and paid dearly for the lack of respect. What is it, my young and inexperienced friend, which makes you think things will be different for you today?

Be it an apprentice or seasoned Teuton; every Guardian respected Vejax and his ability to shift the Source, especially when diving. The sensation of being near a Guardian Punching the Provider is a riveting experience for any spectator. It is the sensation that draws every Citizen from every region to every Dive, be it a regional qualifier or today's annual championship. But the sensation for a Guardian attempting to do the same, at the exact moment, is quite different. For most Guardians, the sensation was nothing short of terrifying.

Steffor reflected on the first time he had shifted the Source while diving. Newly anointed as a full-fledged Guardian, he qualified to compete in any of the Guardian Games. Unlike most new Guardians, the first event he chose to compete in was the Dive. His opponent was a Teuton Guardian named Traiken.

Traiken was a Dive Champion sixteen times over. Past his prime, Traiken still had plenty to offer the crowd, and his fellow competitors like, at the time, an over-eager sixteen season old Steffor. Like legends before him, Traiken competed for the love of it, both as a competitor and teacher. Steffor learned that day what it meant to have the Source sucked from your core. The raw exposure to life without the Provider's energy is a sensation few survived, one Steffor vowed never to experience again.

In concept, Steffor knew the sensation of losing the Source was not real. The Provider's energy is limitless to all who chose to live the Certain Way. Every Citizen learned this creed early in life, and each practiced and experienced it according to their race and life experience. The Dive tested a Guardian like none other, leading every Citizen to chant before and after each race: The Dive fulfills the faith of all!

Faith. That is how I know today will be different for you, Master Teuton Vejax, Steffor finally replied.

Hmph! Vejax said through tense nostrils.

The vegetation growing around and above their shifted trail thinned the lower they traveled. It cleared as the branch narrowed to half its original width and leveled out. Familiar with this part of the journey, the two veered off the path together and peered over the edge. On a clear day, the rare vantage would provide a scenic view of the lush Deagron Fields miles below. But the sun had yet to burn off the thick morning mist, limiting their perspective to a few patches of grassland. Still, for people conditioned to living in a three-dimensional network of bark, wood, and leaf, the novelty of seeing open land never waned.

They proceeded down the trail. After fifteen minutes of walking in silence, the two companions reached the branch's unique end. The branch they stood upon fused with a branch of similar size that descended similarly from the northwest. There, shifted at the point of intersection, stood a rustic archway. The Guardians halted a few yards away and sat down before its dark entrance.

With eyes closed, the men synchronized their breathing, and in moments, each began to meditate. Steffor elevated his mind from the endless flow of thought, clearing it of all but one clear image: the archway. His inner eye focused on the smoothed surface of the archway’s center as he waited to receive the Provider's customized message.

Steffor welcomed the time for meaningful contemplation. He visualized the archway as a rendition of his beliefs. It symbolized the infinite connection of life, reminding him that nothing was ever isolated from the Provider. Strengthened by the image, his message from the Provider appeared.

"Join me and fulfill your destiny. Let fear rule you, and failure is certain."

A hitch in the cadence of their synchronized breaths communicated each had received their message from the Provider. Without comment, the two rose, entered the dark space past the archway, and proceeded with their journey. Darkness consumed them a few yards into the enclosed area. A few moments later, a modicum of light, leaking from a perpendicular slit cut into the left wall, revealed the narrow passage. The slit widened as they continued down the shifted hall that turned inward and to the right. Ten minutes into their descent, the left wall had disappeared, exposing the Guardians to open sky and the sprawling Deagron Fields far below.

A few strides after the hall's dramatic transformation, they reached the first step of Armotto's Staircase. The spiral staircase, shifted into the slender branch from above, spawned from the hallowed intersection. The steps were taller than most men and required a Guardian's dexterity and grit to descend without flailing over the open left side. Steffor followed Vejax down the harrowing path as they acrobatically jumped from one landing to the other. A mutual silence ensued as each Guardian started their mental preparation for the Dive.

Knowing the journey's end neared, Steffor embraced the silence and spent the time reflecting on the Provider's recent message. The message bestowed at the intersection is always related to his state of mind and life experience. Prior, Steffor's messages had been inspirational. The black and white interpretations such as conquer thyself and victory is certain left little to question. Until today, the Provider’s message never used the word fear or failure.

Does the Provider sense a disturbance in my soul? Steffor pondered the thought-provoking question, resisting the temptation to discuss the topic with Vejax. Customized for Vejax and his present relationship with the Provider, his message would have little application to Steffor at this moment in time.

Faith, you say, Vejax said over his shoulder, retorting to Steffor's earlier statement. I have faith. I believe the Provider will grant me victory. My faith is no different than a harvest Shifter or field Mystic, yet neither one of them possess the skills necessary to go down this ancient trail, much less Dive. With the sound of his own words restoring his bountiful confidence, he added, My faith equals both talent and power. I am in my prime. You—a naive novice with freakish luck about to run dry—have much to learn. It will require more than faith to survive this day.

Steffor grimaced in response to his friend's statement. It was not the words clamping his thoughts in uncertainty; they were all true, from the need to respect Vejax's power to his own freakish luck. No, his perspective on life fueled the faith that caused him to pause in solemn introspection. Up to this moment, Steffor had given this unique paradigm little thought.

Since watching his first live Dive race at age eleven, a race won by Vejax, Steffor's mission in life had been to be the greatest Dive champion in history. Why now, fourteen seasons later, moments before competing in his first Dive championship, does he question why and how he had managed to manifest his life so perfectly? If Vejax only knew how much of an understatement 'freakish luck' was in describing how I came to this moment.

Steffor let the troubling question drift from his mind as he looked down at his friend's head and shoulders. He admired the Teuton's braided ponytail extending down to his broad back base, ending with three short tails from the last knot. Steffor reached around to feel his own ponytail ending at the base of his neck, a stark reminder of his youth and his mentor's vast experience.

Other than their ponytails' length and color—Steffor rich auburn, Vejax jet black—there was little separating the two physically. Inhabiting bodies with heightened senses, both men stood a full head taller and weighed twice that of an average Citizen. Designed to protect the Provider's Citizens, they were both muscular in build with broad backs and powerful limbs. Physical traits today, more often than not, relegated to competing in the Guardian Games.

Content to let Vejax's comment hang in the open, Steffor instead focused on his mental preparations for the Dive race, now rapidly approaching. Traversing one colossal step after the other, he found solace in their silence for the remainder of the trek down the staircase.

Their vertical passage ended at the corner of a large deck shifted from the staircase's remnant material. The floor of Relston's Landing, patterned with alternating herringbone grains, shined with a rich veneer. Shifted from the edge of the floor, a chest-high wall bordered the square deck on all four sides, giving the landing the appearance of an open box.

Ornate etchings shifted along each wall depicted the ongoing events throughout the Dive's colorful and long history. Pictured on the wall closest to the entrance was last season’s championship. The image captured the essence of Vejax's runaway victory as he posed on the Deagron Fields with arms held high in victory, long before either opponent cleared the last amphitheater.

Grimlock sat cross-legged in front of a round opening on the floor in the far corner opposite the staircase. Grimlock, by all standards, was a giant: a head taller and twice the mass of an average-sized Guardian. Nobody was more surprised than Grimlock to see him in this season's Dive championship. Grimlock and his ability to Dive were just now hitting stride. A champion many times over in the Joust and Wrestling, life had just started to slow down long enough for him to open the secrets required to Dive. Where Grimlock was the epitome of beginner's luck, Steffor was simply an enigma.

As always, Grimlock's baby face and jovial smile negated all size intimidation. The three commenced with their customary greeting, crossing their right forearms in tandem with a firm embrace with the left arm, ended with a vigorous thump to the back.

What took you so long? Grimlock asked with mock puzzlement.

Steffor and Vejax smirked at the apparent joke, well aware that Grimlock's journey was a fraction of their own. He could have waited atop the staircase, but neither begrudged the decision. Grimlock, all kindness aside, tended to ramble about the mundane and made it difficult to concentrate. Ironically, his ability to channel that single-mindedness contributed to his recent success in the Dive.

Civilities completed, the three men turned to the wide opening in the floor and looked down the long chute that would take them the remainder of the way to the Deagron Fields. Grimlock faced them and said, May the Provider guide your path today.

May the Provider guide yours as well, Steffor and Vejax replied in kind.

With that, Grimlock jumped into the opening feet first and disappeared down the chute. Steffor turned to face Vejax, anticipating his friend’s probing stare.

Vejax will be spectacular today and create history in his unique way.

The thought filled Steffor’s heart with joy, enabling him to remove lingering thoughts of doubt, tucking them away to ponder another day. Soon they will begin the long ascent to the top of the world and start the Dive championship; his mind, body, and soul had already begun the process of drawing in the Source.

I agree with you, Steffor said at that moment, picking up from where their conversation had ended. It will require more than faith to win today's race. Vejax opened and shut his mouth several times to reply, but in the end, he gave Steffor a quick nod of agreement before jumping down the chute.

For different reasons, Steffor's final statement had a disturbing effect on both Guardians.

*****

Vejax slowed his pace, in no hurry to reach his Dive lift. Usually, the soft crackle of tall heather brushing against his garments was all it took to trigger the intense process of visualizing his pending victory in the Dive. But alas, a rare bout with insecurity had quelled his desire to start the Dive championship. Never experienced, Vejax could not manifest a vision of his immediate future.

Absent of a remedy, he eased his progress across the short stretch of Deagron Fields. He concentrated his sight on the vine Shifters awaiting his arrival, shrouded by the midday sun centered within the expansive horizon beyond. Their stout frames, and the thick vine cables stationed between them, soaring high above, knifed long shadows across his path. Prepared for the strenuous task ahead of elevating Vejax and his lift to the Provider's peak, at that moment, he envied the definiteness of their respective roles.

Steffor's parting words might not have bothered Vejax if it were not for their timing and similarity to the message he had received. "This is your moment. Faith holds no past or future; the present is all that matters." The Provider's message was nothing new to Vejax. Indeed, he did a daily practice of meditating to various passages in the Deeds, providing similar guidance. For that matter, he forged a personal connection with the Provider on his understanding of what it meant to live in the now. Regardless, he could not dismiss as simple coincidence how the word faith came into play with Steffor and the Provider.

Pull it together, man! Steffor’s faith is like none other. Stop denying it.

A rush of confidence moved inside as Vejax gave voice to his concerns. The welcome dose of confidence spurred him down a familiar path of reason. A clarity received the moment he met Steffor but feared to explore until now.

It was neither the depth of Steffor's faith or his commitment as a Guardian that troubled Vejax. From the day Steffor discovered his calling—saving hundreds of lives in the process—his raw ability to shift the Source had been equal to that of a seasoned Teuton. Since completing his apprenticeship over ten seasons ago, the Deeds recorded score after score of heroic acts he had committed; acts of bravery and self-sacrifice rivaled by none in history of the same age. Moreover, while his craft was still rough and growing, few disagreed that Steffor would be the next to forge his Teuton Staff.

Do I envy Steffor's growth as a Guardian?

As in the past, Vejax answered the self-effacing gut check with an assured no. Steffor, his youthful exuberance aside, was one of the few people Vejax could genuinely relate. Fifty seasons ago, Vejax was a young Guardian experiencing a similar rise in fame. As he had witnessed in his younger friend, Vejax avoided the pressure to exceed himself through the growth of his relationship with the Provider.

Is the issue related to my competitive nature in the Guardian Games?

After all, it was hard to argue that Steffor would become the most successful Dive champion in history, a pending reality, regardless of the outcome of today's championship, given his success rate to date. Despite Vejax’s constant barrage of competitive jabs, he knew in his heart that their healthy competition held no animosity toward the other. He was content to give his all in every race and accept the outcome. It was, after all, just a contest.

No, Steffor's shared love for the Dive made him more endearing to Vejax. He was proud to call Steffor a friend and grateful for the opportunity to mentor his growth in this lifetime. Likewise, Steffor's presence had contributed to Vejax's ongoing growth in ways he only now realized possible.

Realities of which made the discovery of his real dilemma all the more challenging. While he could not articulate the reason, Vejax knew Steffor's relentless questioning of the proven truth fostered the seed of his discontent. How, since first meeting the young man, Steffor pushed at the edges of The Citizens Creed. He questioned the sacred laws that separated Citizen from animals. Laws bestowed upon man on the Day of Discovery when Mystic first synced with the Deeds.

The moment we met, my intuition told me Steffor was different. And as I have done with every encounter since that day, I suppressed the one voice, my proven guide, that, when listened to, always spoke the truth.

Encouraged by the realization, Vejax stopped in his tracks and sent his mind out, searching for the nearest Mystic.

Joy to you, Citizen Vejax. How may I help advance your journey? The Mystic, heard in his mind and registering by the name of Domilton, was faint but enthusiastic. Vejax surmised, given how far he was from the closest village, that Domilton must be a young field Mystic. Assigned to the lower regions of the Trunk, Domilton spent most of his days in deep introspection. Alas, all other Mystics in the area were dedicated to the upcoming broadcast of the Dive championship.

Joy to you, Citizen Domilton, Vejax replied. I seek season 10,371, Lake Arol, Guardian Apprentice Induction, Master Kilton's introductory lecture.

Vejax waited while the Domilton searched according to his parameters and was grateful for the prompt download that followed a few seconds later. A satisfied smile crossed Vejax's face as the first images to flood his mind’s eye were of the majestic knot lake, and the village shifted along its mountainous south side.

He allowed his mind to take a quick detour and travel down the narrow avenues running the mountainside's length and width. Flying over the many vine bridges spanning the falls that crested the lake's curved rim, he ended his side trip at the House of Kilton. Shifted from the smooth lake rim, he spent many blissful hours in the ancient house as a young apprentice, resting after long, toiling days of training.

The nostalgic trip down memory lane provided an unexpected but welcome lift to his spirits. He accepted the palpable gift for what it was, stowing it deep into the pockets of his soul.

He doubled back and re-synced with his requested search, sending him from the northeast across the lake. Vejax slowed his approach, still uncertain what it was he sought by visiting an event that occurred long ago.

The day had marked his return to Lake Arol since leaving twenty-one seasons prior, a time in his life when the mandatory season spent training others felt like an eternity. He was a brash, young Guardian then, itching to carve his name into the Deeds. Vejax chuckled at the irony as he did the day he returned the second go-around as an anointed Teuton. Both then and now, excited to share his wisdom with the latest batch of apprentices.

It was a diverse group of recruits that season in age and background; the recent discovery of ordained powers was the primary trait each shared in common. Twelve seasons old, Steffor was the youngest. But he was the boldest. Armed with an intelligence unencumbered by wisdom, none foretold of his innocuous charisma or the influence it would have on everyone.

He cast his spell on all of us that first day. A blissful spell, ignorant of its existence, but an incantation on the soul all the same. But was it the charm of youthful inquiry, or was it something more...perverse.

With the shape of his inquiry coming into focus, Vejax approached the moment in time he had requested with renewed hope.

An aerial view of the tri-hulled ship came into view a second later, its broadleaf sails taut with a robust southwestern wind. The simple but efficient craft shifted from a large piece of petrified bark, trailed a sleek wake of white foam across the clear, emerald waters. Like a pride of big cats, Guardians lounged around the main deck, an oval trough connecting to the three torpedo-shaped hulls. A small crew of naval Shifters operated mast and sail.

The sun was setting behind them, providing the passengers with a breathtaking view of the eastern shore. The spiked range of wooden pillars was awash in warm light, a beautiful contrast to the preponderant Trunk consuming the background. Vejax, recognizing the moment as the start of the evening's lecture, moved down to the main deck to assume his former self's point of view.

"The