And finally to Alder, the selfless knight from Denduron, who always put the safety and well-being of others ahead of his own. His loyalty and sincere goodness were perhaps the greatest of any of us.
Then there was me. Bobby Pendragon. The Traveler from Second Earth. The lead Traveler. As much as I didn’t want to admit it, the role that the other Travelers played in this battle was secondary to mine. Not that they didn’t sacrifice and fight as hard, or harder, than I ever did, but when it came down to it, I was the one on the line. Saint Dane told me more than once that the battle for Halla was really the battle between the two of us. It was probably the only truthful thing he ever said. He said it was all about him and me.
I lost.
As I stood there, looking into the eyes of the Travelers, something happened. For each one of those brief moments, I reconnected with a true friend. Though no words were exchanged, they were each telling me the same thing. They were with me. I truly believed that if I had asked any one of them to follow me through the gates of hell, I’d have to hold them back from going in first.
“Pendragon?” Aja called out.
I turned to her.
“A long time ago I asked you to give me another crack at Saint Dane. You said you’d see what you could do. Remember?”
“I do.”
“I’m calling in that promise, Pendragon. Right now. See what you can do.”
The other Travelers looked to me, waiting for a response.
Uncle Press called out, “What do you say, Bobby?”
I took one last look around at my friends. The Travelers. Each one of them gave me the same, silent response. They nodded with confidence.
I walked to my uncle and declared, “I say… we are so not done yet.”
Uncle Press smiled. It wasn’t dramatic. It wasn’t huge. But it was real. Just as quickly, he let it drop and turned to the others.
“All right then,” he announced. “Now it’s our turn.”
He strode out of the circle, walked off, and disappeared into the haze. Where he was going, I didn’t know. The Travelers watched him leave, then turned to me as one. They had heard my answer to Uncle Press. They wanted their own.
“He’s right,” I declared. “I’ve made mistakes. More than my share. Hopefully, I’ve learned from them, but I can’t guarantee anything. There’s only one thing I can promise. I’m taking this to the end. Saint Dane thinks we’re already there. I don’t. Where it will be…when it will be… I don’t know. But I’m going to be there. Whether he likes it or not, Saint Dane will be there too. He says things have played out the way he planned. Maybe they have. I say we start making plans of our own.”
The circle closed. The Travelers drew close and stood together, shoulder to shoulder, facing me. I couldn’t have been more proud.
I stood up straight and said, “And so we go.”
I walked past them, headed after Uncle Press. The Travelers followed behind me. First Alder, then Loor, then the others. There were eleven of us. Each more different than the next. All with the same mindset.
Things weren’t the way they were meant to be.
It was our job to make things right.
We were the soldiers of Halla.
It was time for us to take it back.
END OF JOURNAL #36