Cantrell Chronicles RESET, Part One

The Phoenix and the Flame, a Cantrell Chronicles Reset update- Chapter Twenty-One

Erik was restless after church services. Normally, he felt renewed. He was aware he was allowing his nerves to take over, which was never a good thing.  He simply had to move passed his father’s victory over him.  He couldn’t continue to let it eat at his soul, his very essence. Yes, there would be wins and losses throughout life, but to just lay down and take it without a fight . . . Unacceptable. He went inside and quickly changed his clothing to something far more casual. “Sir, what do you desire to wear tonight? This, or this?” Alfred said, holding each outfit up, as Erik made a dash for the stairs.

“The blue ensemble,” he called over his shoulder.
“Very good, sir.”

Erik told his mother where he would be if she needed to get ahold of him.  Then he went to the La Vivace lounge, out through the side door, down the few steps. around the ramp, and over to the gazebo. There he signed up for the Tournament.  One of his tasks was to participate in a duel.  He was well aware by putting this off, he was falling behind in his noble duties.

Slightly troubled that the only other participants were female, he began to wonder if Sundays were set aside for the fairer gender. Then, as he was engaged in his first duel, and felt her strength he was reminded of his encounter with that burglar several weeks ago, now. It doesn’t matter. Practice is practice.

Once that thought took hold, Erik poured it on, rallied and took the round.

Knowing his time was limited, as the afternoon ebbed away, Erik sought to begin the second round.  Again, a female. No matter, just press on and win. Which he did. As more and more Paparazzi surrounded the platform, cameras trained, flashes nearly continuous, the second gal scrambled to her feet, arms blocking her face so as not to be identified, as she fled the arena.

One more duel to win and Erik would own the title.  Quickly, he tamped down his elation. Again, a female stepped forward. An elderly female, at that, and one he recognized immediately. “Oh, High Counselor T’Pau I cannot. . .”
“Thee can and thee wilt,” she said in her stern, level voice, brooking no further argument. “Come at me, boy.”

“Y-yes, Ma’am.” With that Erik took the proper stance and when the referee called out, “En Garde!” The two went at it like old foes.  Erik wasn’t for a moment surprised by the woman’s strength. She was a full Vulcan, and the contestant, he yearned for. Not a man, but as strong or stronger than a human man. This was good.  In a clashing of metal on metal, with the spark that flashed, it was over. More quickly than even Erik imagined.  Giving her his hand, he was surprised she accepted his help to bring her to her feet.  “Very good for a young sehlet pup,” she said, an ever so slight curving of her thin lips. He noticed a twinkle in her deep brown eyes. 

Declared the winner of the tournament, Erik received two-hundred-fifty Simoleons. “Thank you!” he said as he beamed himself back home. He and Kayleigh then headed off for Del Sol Valley, nearly six minutes after the hour.

*~~*~~*~~*~~*

Holding hands, Erik beamed them both up to the third floor of the PBP Studios Lounge.  

Quickly, they found seats, as the audience began to trickle in. Slowly at first, but pretty soon, it was full and the buzz of conversations, speculation on who would win, filled the room. “You okay?” Kayleigh whispered.

“Yeah,” Erik whispered back, “Just trying to center myself.”

Before they knew it, the Host took the stage. Standing before the golden microphone, he said, “Hello, I am Layne Coffin, your host for this most prestigious of evenings. I am so happy to be here. And from the looks of it, so ar you.”

“This is a grand night, isn’t it?” Layne said. “The last of the Four Big Nights of this year. So much rides on tonight. One can feel the tension in the air, the electricity of hope tingling upon the skin. And now without further ado, it’s time to reveal this year’s Album of the Year, starting with the Rock N’Roll category. Keeping in mind that a win in this category no matter the genre, will fulfill that needed fourth pillar. And while best albums in the other genres will be announced, the tension, most certainly will be over. Phew.  Let’s just see what Fate holds, shall we?” Here Layne grinned, almost as if he had a secret and enjoyed taunting the audience with that knowledge.

"Five outstanding artists have been nominated for their work, but only one will receive the grand prize. And only one in this category stands to make a Clean Sweep. Who will it be?” The man used his hands as he spoke. With this last question, he put a long index finger against his cheek.

As he listed the names, images filled the screen behind him of the artist named and the cover of the album nominated.  “The nominees are James Redding, for his Take That; Willow Madeleine for her August Moon; Ralph McIntyre for his Just Fiddlin’ Around; Donna Fairchild for her Breathe, and Erik Cantrell for his Just Erik. So, let’s get at it, shall we?” The Host grinned and cleared his voice.

“‘For bringing such aural beauty to ears around the world . . .' The Album of the Year, 2276 goes to . . .”  with this pronouncement, the Host pulled the heavy cardstock rectangle out of the envelope with ease. Reading it quickly, he said, with a huge smile. “Ladies and Gentlemen, we have a Clean Sweep for the year 2276. First time in many seasons, too. Please, give it up for our winner, Erik Cantrell, for his very first album, Just Erik. I’m telling you; this young man is on an incredible roll! Congratulations, Erik! I don’t know how you do it. But you never cease to amaze. This is one great album; I listen to it all of the time.”

For a moment, Erik stood still, trophy clutched in his hand, eyes held shut.

Lifting it high, To Thee O Lord

Then a bright smile took over his handsome features.  “You’re not the only one amazed,” Erik said. “This is more than I ever imagined, even in my wildest dreams, I just never conceived such a thing would ever happen to the likes of me. I am truly a blessed man. Barely thirteen months into this business and here I am again. Week Four, who knew? Thank you so very much. The honor is nearly as heavy as this beautiful award. Believe me, it’s a good thing I work out.” 

In another moment, emotions washed over the teen, truly feeling the weight of so many things. The unmitigated sense of accomplishment, in odds too great for him to calculate, in the face of so much he had to learn and do. His crown sometimes pinched. This was even better than facing and defeating three other swordsmen. A necessary evil, he was certain.

“Of course, music doesn’t happen in a vacuum,” the teen continued, having mastered his emotions for the moment. “My team over at Taygeta Studios has a great deal to do with the success of this album, all of my albums, as a matter of fact. I’ve put out two, so far. With many more planned. Ryan Ricks, my record producer; Toby Gleason, my recording engineer. Likewise. Michael Perry and Richard Foreman who expertly oversee the mixing,” Waving his free hand, he smiled into the camera and said, “Hi, guys. They pour over each and every track, missing nothing.”  Holding up the award, he smiled, “There’s no way I could do this without any of you. You’re the best. I am honored to work with you.”

“I would like to strike a serious note, if I may. I wish to fully acknowledge my countless fans from all over the globe. You’re the very best. The cream of the crop when it comes to fans.  Every note I write, every word I choose has my fans in mind. You are the very reason I’m here. Never forget that, please. I know I won’t.”

“Thank you to the Academy, for the nomination, and to those who vote. I am more honored this time than the very first win, if that’s possible. I never expected to have such feelings wash over me. This never gets old, rather it only builds in momentum. I keep awaiting the crescendo but also fear it.”

After he left the stage, he guided Kayleigh up and out of the Lounge. In a matter of minutes, two to be precise, he pulled the Hovercraft into the underground parking lot of the Rilitti Restaurante. “Wow, and here I thought we would be back at the Moon.”
“I was unimpressed with it. Thought we could give this one a shot. Besides, I don’t want our dining out to become redundant.”

“Well, it’s certainly pretty,” Kayleigh said, as they walked inside, “I love the unusual shape of it.”  
“Speaking of shapes,” Erik said, “I’ve been working on a floor plan for my own house. I can’t spend my life living with my parents, waiting for my father to either give up the throne or pass away. I hope he lives at least as long as Uncle Joe. I was hoping you would be interested to see what I’ve drawn up sometime.”

The two arrived back at Castle Cantrell, just after midnight. There were no recriminations. They kissed and each went to their own room to sleep. When Erik awoke, it was to a text ping on his phone. Attached to the text were two pictures –magazine covers.

And one he could have gone a very long time without seeing:

All for now, thanks for reading!