The Haunted Graveyard

The Haunted Graveyard, Where Old Ideas Are Laid To Rest.

 

* Lydian Sparks *

Nothing is more ominous than a blank page. All the warning signs were there but I chose to ignore them. It seemed innocent enough as I held it in my hands, just the beginnings of a story written in a small leather bound journal. I, like many of the Memory Keepers before me have used my time at the Magi-Scriptorium to decipher and absorb the stories of the ancients and learn the teachings they so painstakingly labored to set to paper. So it was not uncommon for me to be seen roaming the dark and dusty caverns in search of a volume penned in secrecy by an enlightened elder. What one should have found unusual was the over turned book sprawled out on the marble floor, its binding bent and cover torn. Who knew the simple act of encountering a half finished book would be the defining moment that would change my life forever?

My name is Lydian Sparks. I am the Chief Overseer for the decryption and restoration sectors of the Magi-scriptorium and have held this post for the last 7 years. It seems as though an eternity has passed since I arrived on Phillipa Isle in search of renowned bibliophile, Rhys Cicero. I was desperate to uncover the well hidden secrets of the noble family of Torlean and elderly Master Anthropologist Cicero, was the most qualified to assist in that endeavor. Under his tutelage I learned Cartography and together through the use of ancient texts meticulously mapped the once bustling city of Phedra, believed to be the root of all Magi-ke.

I awoke, turned and looked at the small clock that lay upon the bedside table. Eight thirty already, I was sure to be late again, Cicero would not be pleased. Groaning loudly I rolled over and forced myself to leave the comfort of my warm bed. I swiftly rummaged through the chest of drawers and hastily dressed in a pair of black breeches, white shirt and an emerald green bodice, I stopped momentarily pausing only long enough in front of the mirror to French braid my long burgundy hair and ensure the image reflected back was befitting my station. Then I was off again.

"No time for breakfast”. I thought to myself and crossed through the kitchen. At the door I donned a newly purchased black cloak and thigh high soft leather boots, retrieved my bag from the closet and set out shutting the door behind me. First a right on Moonstone Lane, then quickening my pace a left on Oak Terrace, my feet knew the way as I had traveled this route a thousand times before. Knowing that a short cut through the Old Pass would allow me to go unseen I stealthily turned and was concealed by the veil of the underbrush, running now I made haste through the mandrake riddled grove.

My mind a blur of daily tasks, I was lost in thought when the collision occurred. The impact of our bodies caused me to tumble to the ground dropping my bag; astonished I lay there for just a moment, before a hand reached out to me and pulled me upright. He bent to recover my belongings as I fought to regain composure. But as he stood he seemed to be enamored by my features. I returned his gaze for only a moment before taking possession of my bag and bidding him a very abrupt “good day.”

"The nerve of some people”, I thought to myself. Gawking at me like that without even a word of apology. What had caused him to stare at me so? I always considered my appearance appealing; sea green eyes, porcelain skin, crimson lips, what wasn’t to like. Urgh, maybe it was my ears, their considerably more pointed than….. It was then that I realized I had not seen the man before, being a Memory Keeper, it was my place to know everyone on the Isle and record the more important events of their small community, how could it be that I did not know him and how did a stranger know of the secret path which lay through the mandrake grove? No time to think of it now, I was going to be late.

It was just a short walk to The Bend after which I would be out of sight. Upon reaching it, I bolted, running for all I was worth until just before reaching Sarah's Crossing. As I slowed my pace I began straightening my tunic and removing the nettles from my hair; only then allowing myself one quick glance at my watch, five minutes to spare. Relieved my confidence returned, assuming an air of importance I stepped from the grove and turned left on Sarah's Crossing. Eyes straight ahead and I walked purposefully passed Phillipa’s Town Hall and Blood Moon Bank before stepping foot inside Cicero’s most prized and noteworthy accomplishment, the Magi-scriptorium.

I stood in the foyer for just a moment carefully observing the morning’s happenings. Rheta, the Magi-Scriptorium’s receptionist was sitting at a modest mahogany desk located in the center of the room, pouring a cup of tea and quietly humming to herself. While Kale, a proficient book binder from the restoration department was milling about absentmindedly. With a sigh and thoughts of gratitude to the powers that be for the quiet morning I made my way past Rheta, out of the lobby and into the grand expanse of the Magi-Scriptorium.

The sheer size of the building and vast number of scrolls, maps, journals and books overwhelmed me as it always did. The beauty of the ornate moldings and elaborate architecture commanded reverence as it instilled awe in all who called upon the Memory Keepers seeking knowledge of history, culture and Magi-ke. I ambled through row after row of perfectly placed books, their bindings creating a rainbow of color and texture akin to a woven tapestry before finally reaching the door to the interior rooms.

I opened the door and passed through closing it silently behind me. The hall was dimly lit but the door to the first room on the right lay open and a warm glow shined within. I poked my head inside to bid a cheery good morning to my friend Thalia, Junior Overseer to the Search and Recovery Division. We spoke briefly about the mornings encounter before I moved on and ultimately entered my own office four doors further down on the left.

I placed my bag neatly under the desk and began to look at Cicero’s latest list of items that required my attention. Zebulen, head of Search and Recovery Team 26 which had been deployed three months ago to the Phedra’s ruins had returned with various artifacts which would be distributed between the many divisions within the Magi-Scriptorium. I had to get to the Recovery Depository and determine what of historical significance could be saved. The list of things to do was long, but I had all day so there was no need to worry.

* The Unfinished And Untitled Work Of Me. *

Tick, tick, tick, the sound resonated in my head. I attempted to shift positions and found my limbs heavy with the weight of sleep. I woke slowly, coming into consciousness as seconds passed. A sudden onset of pain racked my body as brightly colored spots popped throughout my already blurred vision. My leg throbbed mixed with astounding blasts of shooting pain. I felt sick. My leg, my head, the pain mixed together and sent me into a downward spiral, I was losing focus, the room was fading away and I fell once again into darkness.

Like most children, I always felt that I was different. I shifted social groups moving from one clique to another in search of that feeling of belonging, and in doing so cultivated a very eclectic lifestyle. I would not allow myself to be defined by the clothes I wore, the music I listened to or any of the other characteristics one would expect from a teenager trying to find their place in the world. True, like many I did what I could to fit in, outwardly mapping my choices of attire and music to those of my peers but in the safety and security of my own home I did not have to portray the role of a typical teenager.

For as long as I can remember I have always felt that there was something more to life. More than getting up, going to school or work, coming home to do more work, eating dinner, and then watching a little TV before heading off to bed. It seemed like there had to be, why bother going through life only to live such an utterly tiresome existence. As I grew older I gained access to people of other cultures and beliefs and was eventually granted admission to both the school and public libraries. I spent long hours tucked up on the ledge of my bay window reading about other faiths, ancient cultures, mythology, folklore, and found I loved to study the social and cultural attributes of people in general.

The weirdest thing about it was that even though I spent so much of my time around people, they didn’t hold any real interest for me. The life they lead in our small town seemed so mundane. They blindly accepted what they were told by their peers, teachers and other persons of authority and never questioned anything, never wanted to know more or attempt to understand why things were the way they were.

I found myself retreating more and more internally. While my teachers were droning on about arithmetic, I was envisioning a scene totally of my own making. I found that in reading and learning I was opening myself up to be more and more exposed as a human being. I allowed the facts I learned to take shape inside my head, from the smell of damp earth on the forest floor to the crests of the waves and the salty spray of the ocean air. I could see and hear it all as if I were really there, laying on the sandy beach or picking my way along a well worn path through the oldest of ancient redwood trees.

I quickly came to the understanding that other people, even the very creative musicians and artists did not have the ability to view what they read in such vivid detail. Wanting to develop this new skill further I began to read fantasy fiction, and soon became proficient at placing myself in the story by assuming the identity of one or more of the main characters. It was not long before I could completely immerse myself in their emotions seeing and feeling my way from cover to cover. With each new book my reading skills increased and with this new found speed I was able to feed off the pages of each text, devouring every word with an insatiable hunger.

I identified so well with so many of the characters, that to some effect it was as if they became part of me, my personality. Situations would arise and I would find myself asking, “What would she do under these circumstances”? This occurred most often when reading series books, where the main character came back again and again to solve some serious new problem shrouded in mystery. The more I read the closer we would become, until finally each time I picked up a new book about them it was like receiving a letter about the recent escapades of an old friend.

This was about the time that my life really plummeted down hill. I lost a friend to a drunken driver, others to suicides, car crashes and accidents with serious injuries. High school life became all about the drama, who was dating, who was cheating, and who wanted to fight who and why. I needed to escape that mess, but there was nowhere to go. My only option was to endure, so I did the only thing I could, I adapted. I subconsciously started developing faces, personas of myself that I could put forth as a way to be everything that everyone seemed to expect of me. Being part of so many different social groups really made me compartmentalize my feelings and at times, made me feel as though I were more than one person.

To be successful in my intrinsic struggle I stopped focusing so much about what the characters in the books were doing and started to concentrate on myself. I read less and wrote more though very few people ever read anything I put to paper. At that time writing was a way to walk through my problems and develop a sense of understanding. I can only categorize my writing at that time as what some today would call a blog. I sat and angrily wrote whatever came to mind. It didn’t have to make sense to anyone else it was pure emotion that flooded out of the pen in a messy rolling script or violent scratches. Sometimes what I wrote was hurtful and mean, other times though it was loving and naïve. Regardless of the context, it was always my feelings from start to finish with no restrictions or limitations, there was no holding back. There was no need to as I had no intentions of sharing my thoughts with anyone else.

As time went on the many faces I wore evolved, freakishly crafting whole persons complete with their own personalities, manner of speaking and styles of dress. I could see them and draw upon their experiences in much the same way as I could my friends, only these companions lived solely inside my head and within the boundaries of the Isle. One by one these individuals came forth to take their place at my side, a virtual cornucopia of identities wrapped into one small insignificant girl. The Isle grew within my mind as each person took up residence and made their preferences known.

The Isle, began as a chain of islands encircled by the clearest of blue seas set below a nearly perfect red and yellow sky. Within its many coves and inlets lay barrier reefs containing the most beautifully colored sea life and a seemingly never ending supply fish and crustaceans. Once on land the isle held a wide array of terrain. Flower filled meadows, lush forests and earthy rainforests, blanketed much of the three larger islands. To the north lay a humid dessert and farther still the icy plains which stretched past colossal mountain ranges and vast valleys. The new inhabitants quickly staked their claim and each element of their new home eagerly sprang up, appearing almost instantly where before lie only darkness.

As my new world unfolded I continued to search for others like me, finding none, I ……

* Ashlan Monnett *

Ash slumbers alone, the sun shining through the window urging her to wake from her peaceful sleep. As her eyes flutter open, she feels the cool of the room and takes notice of the sensation of sheets covering her nearly naked body. Days like this make a girl want to spend the entire day lazing about in a dreamy haze. She closes her eyes again and stretches out across the bed, hesitating for a few moments before turning onto her stomach. The dream still fresh in her mind she must put it to paper before it is lost for all eternity.

As she immerses herself in the depths of her own mind she recalls how it all started. She remembers being dressed in a blue cotton T-shirt, white jean shorts and running shoes. Her wavy brown hair pulled up into pigtails reminiscent of a schoolgirl. She was walking on a narrow timber planked path through a heavily wooded area, smiling to herself and taking in the sweet smell of fragrant flowers caught up in the mountain air. Content with the solitude, she had continued down the path until reaching an isolated spring. It was a bright summer day and the exertion of her walk had made her somewhat warm. She’d decided upon seeing no one else around that she would take a short swim before continuing on her way.

Hastily leaving all her clothes on the embankment she waded into the water. It was quite cold and her body instantly responded to the numbing temperature. Moving steadily deeper her firm breasts finally find their way into the water, nipples tingling and erect. However unexpectedly she heard someone coming toward her and she moved off to a more camouflaged location. As he came into view she became nervous that she would be seen but chose to peer up through the vegetation to get a better look at him.

It soon became apparent that he had a similar idea. As he removed his shirt she is left with the perplexing question of if she should make herself known or remain hidden. She looked upon his tall slender form with interest and watched mesmerized by the ripples of his chest and piercing blue eyes. But when he slipped off his blue jeans, her sharp intake of breath nearly gave her away. She had thought she’d seen a smile cross his lips but calmed herself by assuming she must have imagined it. He dove into the water and emerged mere feet from where she stood.

Knowing she was caught she blushed and turned to make her escape but he reached out to her. His touch intrigued her and as she looked up at him she lost herself in his eyes. The two stood observing one another, a moment trapped in time, filled with undeniable longing. Not a word was spoken between them, as he leaned in to kiss her. And then... Nothing...

Ash sighed, why did she always have to wake up right when her dreams decided to make their way to the good part?

Honk! Honk!

"Get your ass down here Ash, you’re going to be late for school," Talya hollered up from the driveway below.

Ash looked at the clock, groaned and made her way to the open window. "I'm coming, be there in a second," she yelled back while mumbling, "Wouldn’t want you to get your panties in a wad or anything," under her breath.

Talya, Ashlan's prim and oh-so-proper older sister had recently been charged with driving Ash to and from school. It wasn't that either of them particularly minded the arrangement, but Talya had a nasty habit of being more than a little neurotic when it came to arriving on time, which had gotten the two of them into a number of brief arguments over the last few weeks.

Ash surveyed her room, a pair of black jeans lay neatly folded on top of her antique mahogany dresser, walking over she reached out, took hold and began to pour herself into them. Hoping up and down like some kind of deranged rabbit she made her way to the closet. The bi-fold doors slid open easily, revealing a neat row of various white, grey and black concert T's. With a quick yank she pulled Disturbed; her selection of the day from its hanger with such force that the hanger took leave of the rod and fell to the floor. "No time for that now," She thought, as she slammed the doors closed. She grabbed her hoodie from the back of the computer chair, socks from the top dresser drawer, and shouldered her much too heavy red and black plaid backpack before throwing open her bedroom door and swiftly making her way to the bottom of the stairs. She stopped in the foyer only long enough to take her boots in hand before leaving the house and hurriedly making her way to the car.

Talya sat in the driver’s seat shaking her head in dismay. "What?" Ash said “I told you I would be here in a second, I'm here aren't I?"

With that Talya gave a bit of a snort and began to brighten, "Toast?" she said.

Ash had busied herself with the seatbelt and turned to ask about the seemingly random comment when Talya crammed a slice of well buttered toast into her now open mouth.

"Breakfast," Talya said innocently, "Now eat up; we wouldn't want you going all hypoglycemic at school or anything."

Ash managed to mutter a quick and sarcastic "Thank you." Toast hanging from her mouth she attempted to finish dressing while Talya started the car and backed carefully out the drive.


***

Gwydion Dorset High rests only a few miles away from the Monnet household and is the epitome of what most of the students in Drexel, consider a typical high school. The school stands as a visual representation of the number of years that have passed, its architecture dating back to 2012, over forty years ago. As expected good old G.D.H. was named after some school board deemed qualified schmuck who's been dead for so long none of the students have a clue why he was important. The school houses a mere 843 students ranging in age from 14-19 and attending years 9, 10, 11 or 12. Gwydion can only be considered what it is, small. It is the only high school in Drexel, a town snuggled up in the midst of a valley surrounded by rolling hills and a beautiful backdrop of the Neandar Mountains. If a family stuck around long enough Gwydion would be their legacy; either their parents attended or they and their children would.

***

Talya slowly pulled the car around the drop off loop as Ashlan gathered her belongings and prepared to exit her father's newly restored black Friesian 700 LX. "Bye honey, have a good day," Talya said in her best high pitched imitation of a mom voice.

Both girls laughed as Ashlan gave the door handle a tug and retorted with a similarly sarcastic "Bye Mom," before shutting it behind her. Ash stood for a moment taking in the scene as the familiar car carrying her sister gradually made its way around the corner and out of sight. The cold grey stone of Gwydion Dorset loomed down at her with its dark empty windows as the first bell rang. Only ten minutes left to make it to her locker and get to class, "Better hurry," Ashlan thought to herself.


Third period history with Mr. Conroy had just ended and Ash was moving quickly down the hall attempting to dodge the students making their way to first lunch. “Ash!”, “Ash wait!”, someone called out from the throng. “Ashlan Valenteen Monnet, Stop! Wait for me, ok? Geez.” As Ash turned a tall slender girl with coal black hair and steely grey eyes made her way through the swiftly moving crowd. “Where’s the fire?” she said.

“Hey Arianne, didn’t see you, where you been?” Ash said quizzically.

“Around,” Arianne smirked in vague reply.

“Sounds interesting,” Ash stated with a raised eyebrow, “Care to elaborate?”

Arianne shrugged and flashed a mischievous grin “Meet me for lunch?” she said.

“Where else would I be Ari? I’ve got to go, okay? I’ve got to make it to Flannery’s class. If I’m late for English one more time that big blue vein that bulges out of his forehead is going to bust and cause a scene. Later.”

Arianne nodded as the girls separated and moved on in the direction of their prospective classes.

Lunch couldn’t come soon enough as far as Ash was concerned. For the third time this month old man Flannery was discussing the proper way to use MLA citation when quoting from books and periodicals. She’d have thought that her classmates would have picked up on it by now. Finding the topic tiresome she entertained herself by doodling her name on her notes while thinking of the dream she had the previous night.

For years she’d dreamt of him. Some nights she found herself wrapped within his arms comfortable and at peace or walking hand and hand along the tranquil shore. Other times she saw herself hungry for him; the thought of those passionate embraces and fiery kisses warmed her cheeks and she blushed in private embarrassment. Not all her dreams were so pleasant there were nights that they spent arguing, spitting venomous retorts at one another in pure hatred or worse yet wielding Highland Swords which cut through the air and crashed mercilessly into one another in a vicious attempt to force the other to yield.

She’d grown accustom to seeing him each night, but her dreams left her perplexed. Every time she saw him they would grow closer together or further apart. The ebb and flow of their relationship was maddening. To be plagued with such a vast array of emotions for someone she could never meet was ludicrous; he wasn’t even real.

“Ashlan! Hello! Epsilon to Miss Monnet,” boomed Mr. Flannery.

“Huh?” Ash said staring blankly into the face of her annoyed instructor.

“Wonderful. Now that we finally have your attention Miss Monnet, could you please come to the board and show us the correct way to cite a quotation out of Blair Holcomb’s essays on Neandarian Wild Life?”

Mortified, Ash slid her chair back and began to rise. “Oh, uh, yeah, I guess,” she said taking her book from the desk and stepping in the direction of the board.

Ring!

The bell for second lunch sounded. Ash turned, picked up her backpack, and swiped the rest of her books off the desk and into her arms.

“I guess that’s all the time we have for today class. Your essay on the Drexel Mountain Wolf is due first thing tomorrow. Come to class well prepared.” she heard Mr. Flannery saying as she hurried from the room in search of Arianne.


Arianne sat in the far corner of the senior lounge with her feet on the bench. Her black and white knee high covered legs were pulled up to her chest and her back lay flat against the wall propping up her body. A book of poems by Tortured Souls was held open by one hand, while a hydra fizzy pop rested in the other. She spotted Ashlan bounding into the room almost instantly and waved her over.

“So where were you this morning?” Ash asked.

Arianne offered up a sly smile before answering. “Overslept! It pissed my ma off but she didn’t want to deal with Officer Burne again. Truth be told I think she’s getting a little tired of his lectures on truancy, so she wrote me up a bogus Dr’s note. I figured since I had a free pass I might as well enjoy it, so I walked the rails to the Vanir Mines and kicked it in the caverns for the rest of first and second.”

Ash nodded and gave her a knowing look. “You have to work at the movie store tonight Ari?” Ash had hoped they’d spend the evening together. It was Friday night after all and there wasn’t much to do in a town as small as Drexel.

“Yeah till 9,” came the unwelcome reply.

Ash dreaded spending another Friday night alone with Talya, watching her stuff her face with popcorn while she cried over some sappy chick flick was not her idea of a good time.

“I think I’ll head to the caves then, Orion’s throwing a bonfire,” Ash said finally, “Meet me there after work?”

Ari shook her head regrettably “Can’t tonight, I’ve got to open tomorrow and ma’s already threatening to ground me for the rest of the semester. Can you believe that? Nearly eighteen and she’s going to ground me? Anyway, if you do go out there be careful, okay? I saw a guy going into one of the northern caverns earlier, not anyone I recognize from around here. He didn’t look like a psycho, actually he looked kind of cute but you never know and it’s not like anyone comes to Drexel on vacation.”

Ash pulled a Lomita Melon from her backpack and split it into sections, “want some?” she said before greedily devouring a quarter of the small fruit.

“Na, No thanks Ash. I don’t see how you can eat those things anyhow, their so sour. Hey! Did you have any run-ins with Mr. tall, dark, and handsome last night?”

Ash nearly choked, and stole a big gulp of Ari’s Hydra Fizz.

“Oh, so you did see him,” Ari continued, “So what was he this time mysterious and sexy or cold blooded executioner?”

Ash gave a non committal shrug as the bell rang signaling the end of lunch. The two girls parted company and headed to class.

Although they attended several classes together throughout the day an opportunity never arose in which they could continue their discussion. The hours dragged on without incident, and the morning turned to afternoon, and then to night. Ash readied herself for the evening’s festivities and gathered together a flashlight, batteries and other small items she thought may prove useful. Hastily placing all of her belongings into a small neon orange camping duffle and checking once more to see the flashlight was fully functional she left the room and closed the door behind her. Orion and his friends should have already arrived and would be waiting.

Ashlan shuffled along the streets of Drexel, the comforting aroma of freshly baked bread wafted through the air, settled her thoughts and put her at peace. She passed the hardware store and the butchers before knocking twice on the large poster filled windows of the movie store. Arianne smiled and raised a hand in acknowledgement. Disappointed Arianne would not share the evening’s revelry; Ashlan mouthed an apologetic “sorry.” before moving on toward the end of town and the silent wood that lay beyond.

Arianne watched her go; then turned just in time to catch the shadowy movements of a figure concealed behind the large wooden Indian statue that stood at the front of her least favorite store, Tobacco and Snuff. She observed the shape for a few moments as it slowly made its way down the block doing its best to remain hidden.

A rogue street light flickered and briefly illuminated the features of a young girl, her face screwed up in concentration. As the girl made her way passed the movie store a hand shot out and took hold of her, yanking her into the alley and out of sight. The girl’s body crashed painfully into the wall while a hand grasp tightly around her throat. Gasping for breath colored lights popped before her eyes.

She drew her hands to her throat and clawed away, desperately trying to dislodge herself from her attackers vice like grip. The hold loosened and as her eyes came back into focus, the face boring into hers was frightening and twisted with rage. Steely grey eyes burned deep with an intense fire while coal black hair stood on end flowing in the wind cackling and cracking with electricity.

“You!” screamed her adversary.

“A…Ari…Arianne,” she managed to squeak out, “I, I was just…”

Arianne squeezed and cut her words off in her throat. “What are you doing here, Unice?” Arianne spat at her. “You’re not welcome here. You have caused Chanya enough trouble, stay away from the girl. Leave Ashlan alone, or you’ll pay for it, I swear.”

Unice cast her eyes to the ground, a smile playing on her lips. “The three fates sent me to watch the boy and report to them, I cannot go.”

Arianne’s eyes grew wide giving away her initial surprise, she quickly composed herself.

Knowing that she had given Arianne cause for concern and wanting to keep herself from harm Unice continued, “The boy is already here, Arianne. There is nothing that you can do to stop it now”. She laughed a hauntingly hollow laugh. “The girls eighteenth birthday approaches and now that they are close they will be drawn to each other and the never-ending scene will play out once again”.

Telltale alarm swept through of Arianne’s features. She had not forsaken her abilities, lived the life of a once orphaned human and been confined to Drexel the past three years to have her plan go awry now. For fifteen years prior she had searched the whole of Epsilon before coming close enough to feel the pull shared only by their kind. Once the influence took hold it had guided her to Drexel and finally to the human one now called Ashlan.

She had thought Ashlan was well hidden, safely tucked away in this sleepy little valley town. There had been no sightings of the boy, nor had she encountered any other Seraph’s. She had Ashlan to herself for a long time, slowly gaining her trust and becoming a loyal friend. If things continued to go in her favor she may have been able to manipulate Ashlan to her advantage and break the cycle, but this was no longer an option. The Fates were involved now and that meant parties from both sides would be making an appearance soon. She needed more information and she was going to get it.

Smack!

The force of the blow turned Unice’s head, and left the skin on the left side of her face red and hot. The smile left her lips, and she turned back to Arianne thin lipped and glaring defiantly.

Arianne spoke with slow authority and leaned in threateningly, “What do The Fates want with Ashlan? And why are they having you keep tabs on the boy?”

When Unice refused to answer, three rows of wings unfurled from the back of Arianne, cocooning Unice within them.

Seeing no chance for escape and knowing none within the ranks of the Seraph’s or The Fates themselves cared enough to lend her aid, Unice began to speak. “The balance between light and dark hangs on the point of a pendulum. The Fates are watching many threads of possibility. Some are highly unlikely; however the outcomes of many can be swayed by the strong and powerful. The girl and boy were seen by The Fates as the key to tipping the balance and gaining control. The Fates will never interfere directly, but are being used by Zealous in an attempt to find a way to destroy the elder Chanya forever.”

Arianne boomed with rage, “How! How does he intend to bring his plan to fruition?”

Unice shook her head, “I do not know.”

At this Arianne sighed and as if in conversation with herself expressed her thoughts aloud “Of course she would not know, Zealous would never confide in a mere shade, no matter how loyal and Unice is loyal to no one but herself.”

The fire in her eyes dies out as her feathered wings find their way into the folds of her skin and disappear. With a contemptuous sneer cast upon her face, Arianne leans in close and whispers in Unice’s ear, “Go to hell!” She then turns her back on the now insignificant lackey and walks swiftly through the alley and back into the store.

Chanya had been Arianne’s best friend. Arianne had vowed to remain at her side and fight, but her services were needed elsewhere and unwittingly Chanya had sent her away. The attack came swiftly, the night carrying the multitudes amassed behind the Darke God Zealous. Though strong, Chanya had been separated from the other seraphs during the battle and greatly paid for her opposition. Arianne could not forgive herself for the loss of her friend, but now that she had gained Ashlan’s trust she hoped … hoped she could make a difference.

Ashlan sat around a roaring fire in the grand expanse that made up the entry of one of the southernmost caves, the one affectionately known as Orion’s Safe House. Orion MacGowan had graduated from Gwydion four years prior. Since then he had made it his business to create a safe place where the teens in Drexel could sleep off whatever mischief they had gotten themselves into without endangering themselves and before returning home to their parents. Orion hosted monthly bonfires at the Safe House, and having gained the trust of Drexel’s youth they looked to him for advice on various matters.

Throwing yet another log on the fire Orion looked to Ashlan and asked, “No Arianne tonight? Working again?”

Ash gave a sigh and an affirming nod of the head before looking back to the flames.

Most of the party-goers had moved away from the entrance and were now exploring the tunnels and passageways or taking refuge in private alcoves. Ashlan took the opportunity to speak with Orion whilst they were alone.

“Orion”, she said, “I have dreamed of the mysterious boy every night this week.”

Orion turned and shot her a quizzical look. Not wanting to share the more embarrassing intimate details of the previous night’s dream, Ashlan spoke to him of another.

“I wore a dress, the top a sleek tight black corset with long flowing ecru colored sleeves, the bottom a red and black plaid long skirt. The length of it knotted high above the knee exposing my left thigh and bare legs allowing me to move freely. I held a weighty sword and looked to the trees surrounding the glade in which I stood. He was on his knees before me, looking up with pleading eyes as tears streamed down his face and splashed upon the rumpled frill of his white shirt. His hands cupped over one another trying to hold back the blood pouring from the enormous gash that exposed his innards. A hound barked in the distance preceded by eerily haunting howl. I scanned the clearing and saw nothing, then another bark closer this time. The boy desperately reached out to me, as blood sputtered from his mouth but he held fast to my clothing and made an attempt to speak, seemingly demanding my attention. However before an understandable word was uttered he lost his grip, and fell into death. In despair, I screamed and the beast answered, it was upon me now there was time to run. It stood on the other side of the clearing, its shaggy dark green matted fur stank of rotten meat while it’s glowing red eyes stared transfixed upon me as it circled the circumference of the glade. I nervously switched the sword from hand to hand keeping the Cu Sith within my sights when suddenly he pounced and I awoke screaming. “

Orion sat in silence as the moments passed, then he looked back to Ashlan and asked “What do you think it means?”

Ashlan was astonished by his question, “What does it mean? It doesn’t mean anything it’s just a stupid dream!”

Orion chuckled in response to her frustrated rant and she glared at him. He smiled and replied “Ash if you really thought that then you would not have sat here staring into the firelight for forty five minutes waiting to get me alone to tell me about it. Your dreams are always tied to the same boy; do you really believe that other people dream of people they do not know every night? And that each night that someone they dream about is the same person costumed in different eras of dress? Ashlan there is something about this, it reeks of destiny; your life and the life of this boy are intertwined somehow.”

Ashlan sighed and grimaced but said nothing so Orion continued on.

“I don’t understand it but I can think of only one explanation. There are persons within in the intellectual community who believe that in special circumstances reincarnation does occur. These select few persons who are chosen by the gods for this honor, they are set a task they must complete in order to maintain balance and harmony upon Epsilon. When these special people die without completing their task their soul is transferred to that of a newborn baby and they must spend their new life attempting to fulfill the task at which they failed. These theology experts believe that DNA holds memories of information about an individual so in their new lives these people may be perceptive to experiences related to their past lives in dreams, meditation and unconscious states of mind.”

“What the heck are you talking about Orion?” Ash nearly shouted.

Orion raised an eyebrow at her, “Well Ash, do you believe in past lives?”

Arianne checks the clock as she enters the movie store, 8:45 P.M.; she has to maintain the human facade but reasons with herself that no one of importance would notice if she closes the store a little early. Hurriedly she counts the till, places the money into a bank bag and flings it into the back room safe. Heading for the exit she flips the light switch before stepping out into the street and locking the door behind her. Unice had said the boy was in town, Arianne hadn’t seen or felt him but she wasn’t sure she could distinguish between the aura of Ashlan and the boy. Time would move fast now, Ashlan would celebrate her 18th birthday in less than a week and all the major players would begin jockeying for position. She needed to stay as close to Ashlan as possible now, it was imperative that she bend Ashlan to her will and return to the stone circle of Izusa hidden in the caverns below the Neandar Mountains to release Chanya.

Setting off down the street at a sprint faster than any Gwydion High Student would have expected of her; Arianne made her way toward the woods in search of Ashlan. A manipulative plan began formulating in her mind and determination drove her ever forward.

***

A group of teens had emerged from the depths and loped slowly toward the fire seeking its warmth. Their unwelcome intrusion had brought an abrupt end to the conversation between Ashlan and Orion, each of them silently acknowledging the subject would come up again in the near future.

With a wave, Ash stood and walked into the trees, “See you later Orion,” she called out over her shoulder. Lost in thought she left the path and began picking her way through the brush, turning the idea of past lives over and over in her mind, and trying to make sense of Orion’s theory of reincarnation. “What task would the gods have set me to?” she asked herself again and again but no answer was made known to her.

Leaves crackled underfoot and ahead she heard the distinct sound of someone moving through the dense foliage. The sound wrenched her from her thoughts. “Hello? Hello? Is Anyone There?” She called out, but her words were snatched up by the wind and no response came. A snap of a twig and the sound of shuffling feet had her standing stone still, cursing herself for her stupidity. She had left her bag and its contents by the fire and was now apparently lost within the wood, alone in the dark, with only the light of the new moon for company.

The sound drew closer and she let out a yelp of fear as an unknown face emerged just a few feet from her own. She only had a moment to take in the sight of his features, before the moon was covered by the clouds once more. His fair skin, a handsome face and the boyish charm of a teen a few years younger than herself was enough to set her mind at ease.

“Hi,” he said, “are you lost out here too?” A sigh of relief washed over Ashlan as the boy smiled at her and extended a hand.

“Yes”, she replied “I am afraid I wasn’t paying too much attention when I left the camp and left my flashlight behind, I’m Ashlan by the way, Ashlan Monnet and you are?”

“Drake, Drake Kamon.” He says “So pleased to make your acquaintance Ashlan”, with that she extends her hand in friendship and he takes hold. His grip on her hand tightens as he pulls her quickly to him. She stumbles forward and he places both hands around her neck. Ash screams again and again, horrified by the unwarranted attack. The strong hands close around her neck with crushing force, all the air gone from her lungs she begins to lose consciousness. She tries to scream one last time but no sound escapes her lips.

Just before everything went black, two boys about her age come crashing through the brush, taking only a second to assess the scene the first takes a swipe at Drake raking him across the face. As Drake moves to protect the wounded area, Ashlan is release and drops to the ground like a discarded sack of potatoes. The second boy lands a punch to the ribs and a kick to the back of the knee taking Drake off his feet. Seeing that his companion has the situation in hand the first boy tends to Ashlan. Holding her head in his lap he checks to make sure that she is breathing and assesses the deep bruises that are beginning to form a make shift collar around her neck. The second boy pummels Drake a few more times, before being kicked in the stomach. He is only down a moment before they once again lock arms and continue to grapple with one another, their eyes filled with loathing they stare one another down, each refusing to yield.

The moon makes its way from behind the clouds Drake’s form begins to shimmer as if vibrating the air around him. A snake like tongue protrudes from his thin lips and tastes the air around him. The second boy pulls away, shocked at what is occurring before his eyes. Drake continues the transformation, reptilian scales form along a body that rest upon short stumpy legs. The man sized dragon lets out a single roar and turns and quickly bolts from the scene. His attacker follows at a run, determined not to let the beast escape his sights.

Ashlan regains consciousness and is alarmed by the unfamiliar person who has placed her within his care. “Easy Now, Honey.” He says “You need to take it easy, don’t move to fast. Did you know that guy? Was he an ex boyfriend or something?”

Ashlan’s head spins as she attempts to answer, “No, No nothing like that, I’ve never seen him before but he said his name was Drake Kamon.”

He was quiet for a moment before responding, “Okay. Well I am Lysander Macardle, I had just jumped the train with my foster brother Sebastian Tasmine when we heard you screaming and came to help. Bastian chased that guy into the woods just before you woke up. Let’s try to get you standing and I’ll take you home. Bastian will be along in a while.”

Ashlan tried to smile “Thanks” she said, “I’m Ashlan, I hope your brother is okay.”

Lysander had to laugh “I’m sure Bastian’s fine, he’s always getting himself into one scrap after another and the other guy always comes out taking the worst of it.”

Using the stars to navigate they moved off toward town. They hadn’t been walking more than five minutes before a familiar voice called out “Lysander, Lysander where are you?”

“Over here little brother, Hurry up I want you to meet someone.” The moon cast shadows on the couple as the last of their little party moved to meet them. At last they were all together and Lysander spoke yet again.“Bastian this is Ashlan.” Arianne broke through the weeds and caught sight of the trio. “Ashlan, my brother Bastian.”

Each extended a hand by way of greeting, “Nice to meet….” The words froze in their mouths as their hands made contact and the moonlight broke free of the trees, illuminating their faces for the first time. Ashlan’s mind reeled; it was him, the boy from her dreams. Arianne stared in disbelief, the two had made contact and the whole forest ached and groaned with the knowledge, the connection these two possessed was one that wouldn’t and couldn’t be denied.