A World Apart: Original Souls Part 5

"Then I guess it's safe for me to destroy you now that I no longer need you!" Sebastian couldn't hold in his rage any longer, yet he still had a hint of cynicism in his voice. I guess he figured he had me cornered, so why be concerned with me when he could watch a defenseless man die. "Take him out!" he barked.

"With pleasure, boss," Geary retorted. He pulled his own llave out of his pocket and tossed it into rotation. As it positioned itself in front of him, I continued to silently remember things that the key shop owner told me. Geary's llave was now fixed at his chest and rotating. "Fiat lux!" he shouted. Aiming a powerful red beam of light at the helpless sun-dried old man trapped in the desk chair.

It seemed like all s.p.a.ce and time slowed down as I watched the beam head straight for the helpless Priest. He didn't seem afraid. He had a look of dignity about his face that said that he did the right thing by refusing Sebastian. I guess he wasn't as weak as I thought. He had most likely refused Sebastian before and that's why he was beat and taped to that chair in the first place. As the beam neared his chest cavity, the key shop owner's words fiercely played on in mind, almost like visions more than memories.

"We don't think with our minds, son. Wethink with our hearts. You could see a fellow everyday and forgot his name as many times. If he ain't your favorite guy, he just ain't-no means to offend. But one person, just one odd day, can whisper the sweetest thing in your ear and you'll never forget them. Even if that's the last you ever see of them. We lose information in our heads all the time. Things like our own phone numbers, or ones we dial frequently, ATM digits, and on and on, my boy. That's cause it's just a computer-box for numbers and such," that wild smile bent across his wrinkled face again as he spoke so intentionally, leaning across the wood counter of his shop. "But if something's in your heart... you won't never forget it."

I had to let them come. Really, it's the only thing I could think to do. I started to cry. Almost as frantically as Cory did back at the beach house. I couldn't hold it in anymore. That key shop man's words were in my heart, even though that was the only time we had ever crossed paths in life. Still, I couldn't forgethim. I couldn't forget a word he said to me that day. I touched Corinth's face while I stared into the proud eyes of a man I thought to be my enemy. Blood gorged from my pinned right hand, and my mind started to drift even further away from reality than those memories of that key shop in Hyperborean where I went to school. I drifted away from it all. I completely let go of every worldly worry-and the spell came to me.

"ERR.... A.... TUM!!!!!".

Chapter 5:.

Descending To The North

Unknown...

I guess the key shop owner was right! This spell could be destructive, even if it were executed properly. Falling through the middle of a continuous gray sky wasn't exactly what I was hoping for. Corinth's nowhere in sight... all I see is the gray around me. The descent seems endless. In the distance there isn't near a landmark. Nothing at all. Why? Why, did I have to use that spell?

I was in a huge jam a moment ago, but this seems even worse than Sebastian and Geary's dark confessions. I still don't have my llave, I'm just here falling through some sort of void. Nothing I see is distinguishable from anything else, just gray skies. But, I hear something, something that sounds predator-like.

"Birds," I cried aloud, while desperately trying to keep my composure. Why would birds be all the way up here? I'm either so high in the sky that I haven't even gotten close enough to the ground yet to start seeing the surface again, or . . . I just don't have a clue what's going on! I didn't know the sky was gray and without any clouds this high.

I'm falling backwards, down to wherever I'm headed. Maybe the surface is truly visible? If only I could turn myself around. The wind force from the drop is so strong that I can't get any torque on my own body. Helpless! I'm falling entirely too fast. Now my shirt is starting to flop with the air. It's getting so riled up its nearly covering my face.

Sure enough, it shot up in parachute form. A real parachute would have been a blessing, but instead my shirt simply wrapped itself around my face. Now I can't see a thing, basically the same as a minute ago, I guess, but I can still hear birds. Shrieking birds in the distance. Not like those friendly ones that wake you up in the morning, although you wanted to sleep in that day. They sound angry, and the high pitch shriek is getting louder by the minute. My guess, they'll be on me in seconds. Probably feasting at my organs like the chained G.o.d myth.

I tried to put all my energies into my right arm. I tried bringing it around my head to take my shirt off of my face. It wasn't working, the wind force has me locked in my falling position. I wondered why this force just doesn't crush me to bits, considering the strength behind it. But I, at the very least, need to be able to see what is happening, if I have any chance of defending myself against it.

Then suddenly, out of nowhere- I started drifting. I was drifting slowly toward the side. Now, I'm moving horizontally instead of dropping out of the sky vertically. Nothing caught me, stopping the falling sensation, I just started drifting to the side. I think I liked dropping vertically better. But perhaps someone or something is saving me.

"The Birds," I shouted out loud, "fire!" I couldn't believe what I was seeing once my shirt sporadically detangled itself from my face. The birds, the fiery birds are carrying me sideways toward only G.o.d knows where. I started to struggle, kicking and screaming at the highest alt.i.tudes known to man. This lone man, I suspect. I still hadn't seen a single landmark in any direction. I could finally see, but would have rather been blind again. I kicked a firebird in the head and it lost its grip on my denim pant leg. The kick created a domino effect for the other three birds, and eventually they all lost balance and dropped me from their grasp.

Boy, I really didn't think this through. I was scared out of my mind when I saw that my saviors, of sorts, were mindless animals. Mindless creatures that just so happened to be on fire. I'd forgotten that my only alternative to catching on fire was to drop a million feet to my death. Maybe I should have planned this whole thing much better. I've only just started falling and I already feel like I haven't felt a solid surface beneath my feet, or beneath my anything, in an eternity. My body is going oddly numb.

Up, above me, I could see the red firebirds circling in the sky. The gray atmosphere surrounding their effervescent bodies created a beautiful sight, until I started to recognize their formation. They seemed to be gathering to come down on an incline. Toward me, no less! I had nowhere to go. They could be stalking me as food for their young, or how ever birds make dinner plans. I don't know, but I don't like being a sitting duck for them to pluck out of the sky.

The first red-orange bird in line started its downward spiral toward my fragile person. Then the others followed suit. They were all so perfectly aligned that I swore I saw streaks of fire instead of four individual birds coming down toward me. We were just a few yards away from a head on collision. I cringed at the thought of being set ablaze. But they pa.s.sed me instead. I opened my eyes to see why the continuously shrieking mindless animals hadn't torn me asunder. They stayed in sequence as I helplessly gazed up at them. They were back on an incline, heading up toward the high gray sky when I realized they weren't nearly as mindless as I am.

They hadn't burned me when they first carried me. I don't know how, but it surely-happened. I was the one who attacked them, and they haven't retaliated. They continued looping about, creating streaking flame lines in the sky, explaining as best they could to an idiot human, the situation at hand. Literally, they wrote a message in the sky . . . with fire as their ink.

~~SUB DIO, GRAVIORA MANENT, SAPERE AUDE, GENIUS LOCI~~.

Under the open sky, greater danger awaits, dare to be wise, we are the Guardians of this place.

In Maledictus, it seemed they were asking me to trust them. The four birds of fire swooped down and made another pa.s.s. It appeared to be a test run for grabbing me out of the falling sky again. They started to come in for a second pa.s.s- when a loud noise broke their concentration.

I knew that sound. I heard it many times before at Squadron test facilities for high-powered jets. They were sonic booms. Something out there was moving so fast that it was breaking the sound barrier. It was out of my range of sight, but apparently not out of sight for the firebirds. They hot tailed it out of here, no pun intended. But they jetted away so fast that they blew away the beautiful flaming message in the gray sky. And they didn't head in the direction I expected them to. They went toward the sound. The deafening booms continued to grow louder as I wondered if there was ever an end to my skydive.

I got no answer to that question, but I finally mustered the strength to turn my body around. I could finally see a lot more of the scenery now that I'm falling toward it, instead of backing into it. With this new point of view, also came some unwanted realities. Another question on my mind would be answered. What's making the sound that feels like it might overwhelm and explode my eardrums?

Approximately two-seconds later the answer was made clear, so to speak. I have no idea what I'm looking at, but I'm sure there are no friendly flying dinosaurs. I know most flying dinosaurs are usually considered dragons, but this thing seemed a tad bit more ferocious than your run of the mill oversized bat.

It had beige colored fangs that ran longer than the peak of a mountain it was rounding from the side. Just a slight glimpse of the mountaintop was visible above the sporadically disappearing gray clouds. A rust red mountain, that wasn't there just seconds ago it seemed. I was in absolute awe of this monstrous, yet beautiful creature flying towards the firebirds and me at an incomprehensible velocity. It flapped its spectacular emerald green wings every few seconds. It seemed to pick up a considerable amount of speed each time it did. The wings were jewel encrusted and just ultra-beautiful.

If the look on its tiger-like face didn't scream"kill!" ... I would have wanted the opportunity to go in for a closer look. Maybe even pet the hybrid animal. In its face it holds the familiarity of an overgrown jungle cat, but the wings, its fangs, and every single claw on its four reptilian-like legs were nothing I'd ever seen in nature before. And I'm sure if I had, I wouldn't be here falling right now. I'd be a little too dead for that. But there's a first time for everything, so I'm sure getting acquainted with this creature will make me a lot more dead soon enough.

As the now tepid looking firebirds made their long winded approach to the flying jungle cat, I realized I was focusing on the wrong sightseeing extravaganza unfolding around me. When I saw that mountain in the distance, it took me out of my frame of mind. But the flying jungle cat recaptured my attentions quickly as more of its ill.u.s.trious features were revealed. But now that I've reclaimed my senses, I find that this drop isn't never ending. I must have reentered some atmospheric sort of . . . whatever! I'm getting a lot closer to the ground without a parachute or firebird to break my flipping fall.

I looked back up toward the firebirds, halfheartedly hoping to see them noticing my troubles. But they were already tied up in an overwhelming struggle of their own. I took a count and quickly realized that they were a man down. Now very far away, but I could tell. Now just three birds of war swept into formation and came head on at the half-reptile, half-tiger flying through the gray skies up above.

With every pa.s.sing second I was getting further and further away from their battle. My portion of the sky became colorized in an instant. One moment everything was gray, and then the next, I saw blue hues, white clouds, but even more impressive . . . sunlight! I was uncomfortably close now. I decided to keep looking up and backward at the battle, though my neck started to burn. I was distracting myself from the scenery closing in below me, but more so hoping that the birds would come to aid me. But they were still locked in heated combat. The large creature broke their formation. But to their success, they lit its right wing on fire. It was set ablaze by the firebirds magnificent fiery bodies.

I watched as they reformed and swept in again, pa.s.sing right through the jungles cats left wing. They went through the creature as if they weren't real themselves. The cat flinched and started to spiral down-headed right for me. It screamed in pain as the fire began to eat away at its green wings. I thought that it would come plowing right into me, it got close, but righted itself with much time to spare. In midair, this ma.s.sive beast thrust its wings behind itself and pushed back up toward the gray sky. The force from the flap was so powerful that it hit me like a ton a bricks. Sending me spiraling even faster toward my inevitable end. The flap also acted as a fire extinguisher for the creatures wings. The fire that the birds set was now completely extinguished, putting them at the top of the beast's kill-list.

The flying cat pushed back up as I and the firebirds were headed down. It was the firebirds choice to come down from high above in the gray skies, contrasting with my sun laden normal sky. But I was being forced through the clouds toward what seemed to be a town in the North. As the creature went upward, on its angled climb, it started to open its mouth widely. I have no idea what it intends to do, as it is in store for a head on collision with the remaining three birds. The burn in my neck increased when the flying jungle cat flapped its wing a moment ago, but I refused to stay face forward. The birds were still coming down from their higher alt.i.tude and the beast-pushing up. Maybe it plans to swallow them whole once they pa.s.s each other? It's certainly big enough to do it. From its furry jaw to the tip of its fanged teeth, it's probably a foot longer than all three birds on top of one another.

As they nearly collided, the creature tried to bite the birds, but they pivoted left and set its wing ablaze again. The birds and the creature pa.s.sed by each other in opposing directions and both turned. Shifting their bodies to face one another again. A considerable s.p.a.ce opened between them but they both seemed intent on closing that gap. As the large creature turned its huge body, it flapped its wings and put out yet another fire.

The birds pa.s.sed through the creature again, igniting its wing, but it had a stable solution to that minor problem. The littlest birdies seemed to be running out of tricks. The large creature kept its mouth open and had a look of terrifying prowess. The birds charged back up toward it in vain. The flying jungle cat held its position an unleashed its final attack. The cat seemed to know that it couldn't physically catch these nimble little firebirds. It simply wanted to drive them to a downward position so it could make enough time for itself to rev its engines.

As the animal roared, a small white beam of light formed in its mouth. The light grew large and then even larger, to the point I had to turn away and shield my eyes. The wind force was barely a problem anymore. I put my hand across my forehead, and tried to look back. It was like trying to stare into an eclipse. The light it generated out shined even the large monster itself. Then the sparks really started to fly. Literally, sparks of lightning were produced from the orb inside its mouth.

Spontaneously, the orb went flashing out, down to the birdies. The stray sparks around it blew up two of the firebirds instantly. I felt bad for the little things. They seemed like tender beings. Now blasted to smithereens. But the third bird had an even more tragic encounter. It collided with the orb itself. The white lightning sphere seemed entangled with the small bird for a moment, and then exploded into infinity. It blew out in every direction, this dazzling display of pure overwhelming power. Very high above me, still in the gray of the sky, a thousand little cinders swirled about. The only remnants of my little saviors.

After some of the commotion and sparks calmed down, I peripherally saw the jungle cat flying in the distance, far away from me. I was certainly saddened for the firebirds, but relieved to know I wasn't next on its list.

I turned my head away from the wreckage and allowed myself to feel free. Considering I haven't had any real sense of control over my body for probably several long minutes now, it was pretty easy to just let go. I was close to leveling with the tallest skysc.r.a.per in town.

I noticed the ivory cylinder shaped building some miles up the town's gra.s.slands and roads-when a flaming feather or ash-like-cinder from the battle in the gray sky drifted down and leeched itself onto my hand. I wasn't far from a smack down with the ground, when my hand capriciously ignited in flames!

I began twisting and turning, the fire was so intense that it felt like it was melting my hand away. I tried to grab with my other hand, but a slight shock repelled it on contact. The same hand that Geary nailed to the Chancellor's desk, my right hand, was on fire. Then... it just turned to ash right before my eyes. My right hand faded away with the same winds that carried me toward my death.

Like a fish out of water, I longed to feel land beneath my feet. I didn't even bother screaming as I watched the ashes that once made up my hand flutter away in the distance. I was numb, distorted beyond rational thought . . . simply out of feelings. I looked down, and saw the rooftop of a factory a few stories below me, ready to take my life upon impact. I tried praying to the North Star. Aurora's star. For Corinth's safety in my absence. While I muttered this worthless heap of words to a mythical figure, I hit something . . . something soft!

I was shocked when I opened my eyes to see the same rooftop beneath me. But there was s.p.a.ce between me and it. Not my face crushed up against it, like I expected things to play out. It was just there, beneath me as I seem to lay on an invisible cushy cloud of some sort. "Or force field," I randomly mumbled to myself.

I was in the North, far in the North. The large building I saw, it must have been the watchtower at the school. I can't believe I'm in the North, the safest place in all the Worlds. Or at least it usedto be. Before there were tigers with lightning shooting out of their mouths flying above it. Well, I guess that's why Aurora's school has always had a force field around it. Though the town doesn't have one, so ... that's bad logic to think the school needs the field around it. I went to that very school. It saved me from a boring fate stuck in Draconia, which is the least advanced World by far. Well, socially at least. Not only is the North safer than all the other Worlds, but it's also the most culturally advanced. Wait! Then those birds, they must have been ... wow! It is such a rushing surprise to have all this information coming back to me at once.

I glanced over to the k.n.o.b that was the remainder of my missing hand. It's pushed up against the force field. The field glowed brightly in that spot. In fact, the only thing that indicated there is a force at work here is my body lying on top of it. Seeing the k.n.o.b was grim to say the least. A, not so subtle, reminder of something I'd like to hope is just a really realistic dream. My hand isn't missing. As in it'ssomewhere out there waiting to be found. My hand, it's just gone. Unless I wake up feeling foolish for being so afraid of the possibility of living without it.

I slammed into the soft force field face forward, so I tried turningonto my back. Even though my landing was surprisingly gentle, I am aching from this entire battling journey I've been on for days now. I'm so tired. So tired. Thankfully, I can't even process the pain of my burned away hand. It's surely gone, but there's no lingering sensation. After the initial burn, that is. After the ashes drifted away, like dust in the wind. I had to take a few deep breaths and let that all sink in.

Soon enough, I feel myself falling asleep. The sky started changing colors above me in reds, greens, and blues. I thought; maybe the Aurora Boreal was taking place in real time? Are these the Northern Lights twinkling above me like little beacons of hope-or quite possibly dread? Who knows but the stars. Nevertheless, that's likely what's going on. I used-to stare at those lights long ago when I went to school up here, so I know them well enough to tell. My son is once again out of my reach, and I'm sure that I'm not just falling asleep right now. I'm pa.s.sing out- for the umpteen time.

Chapter 6:.

The Nexus' Complexes

March 31, 1002 ~ Daylight "Ahhh!" said Corinth's father, with a gut wrenching gasp from his hospital -bed. "My G.o.d, when is this nightmare going to end!" he cried out in full sentences from within his dreams, like he'd been doing for several hours now.

Luckily, no one can hear him all the way up here in the Watchtower. This ivory cylinder shaped apparatus is the tallest building on Aurora Boreal's grounds. In conjunction with the town, Hyperborean, just outside its protected gates, they make up an entire World. This tiny place, by comparison, makes up one eighth of the 8ights Council. The Aurora Boreal school is the main feature of the town, and most everything is conducted around and about it. Still, it's a good thing the children have gone away from the school for break. Otherwise, they and the remaining staff would go bunkers if they saw the state of Cris' hand when he was taken down from the force field.

This sour smelling gentleman has been through a lot these last few days. Corinth's eyes continued to brighten on and off as we together gazed upon his father stationed in this makeshift hospital high in the tower. I look through the boy, and see his father. A strong willed individual who could put any good dad in all the eight Worlds to instant shame. What he's done for his son, for his family, has been nothing short of miraculous. Frankly, I'm surprised he handled it all so well. He never struck me as the intelligent type.

He's a typical Draconian male. Brute, take-charge kind of fellows they are. However, they very seldom know what to do once they're in control. Common short dark hair, with those ever-shining blue eyes. Skin tones come in all different shades, but they all somehow look the same no matter their physical attributes. Perhaps it's their att.i.tudes that clump then together so? Their eyes say business first and pleasure . . . never! Rough and treacherous lives they live. For reasons the other seven Worlds can't begin to figure out. Neither can I for that matter, and I see all things. Or so I thought.

They think they're the planets most inventive people. Though it's more true that they're complete hacks. They don't invent or even innovate, they just dominate through force. They've learned these tactics from a long line of hypocrites. Criston thinks the past Chancellor's of Draconia are great figures, but repeatedly they've refused to compromise with the 8ights Council on dire matters, which prompted many of small wars amongst them in recent times. Sebastian didn't have to work hard to persuade his fellow government officials in Draconia to elect him. This came about only weeks after he had his own son disposed of. And all that, just in pursuit of the Seat of Power.

The El Muerte Vivo curse that Sebastian has reproduced in this serum-it's merely a taste of what's to truly come. There are bigger and badder fish out there than he. But he's connected right at the core of all these dueling fates. Draconia is the catalyst for many horrible future events. That's why I've been monitoring it through the tender eyes of the most unique youngster in all the Worlds.

Corinth, that weak child has shown me more than I could have ever seen with any other. His turquoise eyes are the signature of progression. For so long the eight Worlds have been divided. The 8ightsCouncil popped up only recently, in reference to the duration of time all the Worlds have been at each other's throats. The 8ights hasn't been around long at all really.

Corinth is the first of a new type of people. He is mixed of two separate races. Truly he is one of a kind. Most people aren't yet comfortable or brave enough to do what they've done for love. Criston and Julia have broken the mold. A mold so firm in place that it's taken nearly a millennium-of human history for these cultures to reunite the bloodlines. More and more children of mixed ancestry are born now. But things don't change overnight. That's why there are people like Sebastian who would have them all eliminated from the equation. And he will have his way, unless I stop it.

The time has only now become right for it. A few decades ago they would have been exiled from Draconia for having Corinth. Actually, just for being together as well. Even people in Julia's home World, La Envidia, would have frowned harshly on them. Seeing a couple together strolling down the street holding hands and their eyes aren't the same color! A chill would have crept down the spine of every sane mind. It would have created pandemonium. Naturally, I'm exaggerating, but sadly enough not very much. Not exactly exile, like the Draconians would have done, but still a penalty for loving outside their race. The La Envidians are not known for their kindness, but they're a more logical people than the Draconians. If it weren't for work opportunities in Draconia, for them both, Criston would have rather lived in his wife's home World. But that would have been bad for my agenda.

Corinth's conscience ... has a name. I am the Nexus. I'vebeen lying, not so dormant, inside Corinth's mind since he was born. He's a unique one, his parents are useful, and the three of them may very well be the only thing keeping the balance between harmony and discord for the future of the Worlds.

A storm is brewing amongst those in this reality and the next. I must use Corinth to his full potential if I'm going to succeed in anything that I'm working on. I am just now talking to the outside. Corinth's can hear me now. But only when I want him to, of course. He needs to train first. Learn to master the skills of magik. Learn to control the power that I've given him before he can know everything that I, the Nexus, know. And that's why I've brought him here. To the Aurora Boreal school. A boarding school based on learning to properly wield magik.

Aurora Boreal is-one of a kind. No, it's not the only magik school around, but it is the only one that accepts applicants from every World on the planet. Even from Lirio and Imperativo. The only Worlds left that haven't adopted English as their national language. They both speak English more since the building of the Puente del Cielo. But Maledictus is still taught in their schools. Most can't master the spells, but just speaking it freaks the other Worlds out quite a bit.

Maledictus is something most people are afraid to even gingerly chat about in private, better yet speaking it in the public domain. The original language, fused of several others before it, but lost over the ages for a very purposeful reason. The most powerful spells can be performed only in that language. Only elders speak it wholly nowadays, but some people study it in the shadows. Those who wish to wield without wand or llave. Those who wish to gain ultimate power. But the language, and even more so its spells, are not easily mastered. Most who attempt to learn a single phrase fail. That's a blessing to the ma.s.ses. If too many possessed that kind of power, the Worlds would be plunged back into the dead age. When the dead roamed the lands just as the living do.

However dangerous that all sounds, Aurora Boreal still teaches certain phrases of Maledictus to its students. They've been criticized for it, but they retort with the simple-adage; 'it is our ancestry.' If we don't know where we came from, we won't continue cautiously towardour future. It's true, many have forgotten the perils of making power seem so alluring. To teach the language cancels out some of the mystery, which in turn neutralizes some of the attraction.

The Boreal school has always been the best and the only truly diverse school. Parents from all Worlds dream of their children being educated here. A ninety-nine percent success rate will do that. Nearly no one fails that graduates from these walls. Though there has been a few exceptions. And it seems one of them is waking from his much needed and longwinded slumber.

Chapter 7:.

The Watch Towers Over The Hour

March 31, 1002 ~ Midday Corinth was sitting on one of the stone windowsills that overlooked the town, when Senora Hendrix slipped in. Through the large wooden door at the center of the room she came, and closed it back softly. He watched as she seemingly glided across the cobblestone floors of the expansive room. Her dark cloak fluttering with the several airy currents of a softly budding spring day. Her dark brown skin, so liken to Criston's own hue, looked taut and smoothed over her demanding and aged face. So correct and eventful were her features for a woman well over fifty. Her poised dark hair, slicked back into a feathery, but overly large puffy bun. It was just as striking as the cold, robotic blue of her keen eyes. She continued on across the s.p.a.cious room, advancing from the dark wooden door without as much as a word of acknowledgement to the two of them in it. She immediately took up near Criston's bed, and began tinkering with the equipment employed to help keep him comfortable.

"Ow!" Criston yelled as Sena. Hendrix unsympathetically ripped the IV from a vein in his right, handless, arm. "Take my whole arm off while you're at it," he said, through clenched teeth. Then he immediately reached down to his right hand with the left. Had it all been a tragic dream? His heart told him, perhaps? His mind screamed, no! -There was no hand there as he felt around, surveying his current state. He didn't expect it to be there. But the simple hope itself seemed like the most despairing thing to him once he realized the truth. He sighed with a blank stare, allowing the shadows of doubt to overtake his hopeless, blind faith. His reluctant caretaker took note and decided he was too far gone from reality. So...she intended to checkmate his self-pity party with her own abstract form of consoling a loved one.

"Oh! I'm sorry, Senor Gambit. Is my touch too rough for you? Perhaps, you should have 'dropped' in another time. Perhaps, a time when there were more staff on that could help welcome you back into the fold, ever so politely." Whoa! A bit of overkill. Her tone was nearly as cynical as Sebastian's, but fewer crazy flags went up when the vibrations of her sharp tongue pierced the eardrum.

"No, I should apologize. I'm a guest and you've been so kind to take care of me without question." Criston went into damage control mode. Momentarily forgetting himself, opting to focus his thoughts on his son. He needed Sena. Hendrix to tolerate him, for Corinth's sake. "Thank you from the depths of my heart, and if I ever have the opportunity to repay this debt, I won't hesitate," he tried to slap as much gloss as he could on those words.

But -Sena. Hendrix was an old bird, and she didn't fly her coop for just anyone. "Please, allow me, if you will Senor Gambit, to cut out the pleasantries. I have been instructed to put aside my enduring hatred for your sniveling, puckish ways. A high figure has taken an interest in you. A rather ill-placed interest, I might add-but nevertheless, I will not question someone of her caliber. This is why you are here and nowhere else in all the Worlds. So-do shut up and let me get on with it."

Criston was only half-awake, so while he heard her, he didn't completely understand what she was saying. Had she named this ominous figure, and he simply hadn't heard? Or was Sena. Hendrix being her old mysterious self again.

See... Criston and she have history. Before Sena. Hendrix was Grand Ministrant here at Aurora Boreal, she was just one of many premonitions teachers. She taught Criston, or rather attempted to teach him, back in the day. That is, until they kicked him out. Cris had a knack for rallying the ma.s.ses to do his bidding. Luckily, for the ma.s.ses, his bidding usually involved crisis support for fellow students. If the price of chocolate milk went up even a cent, and any one student couldn't afford it, you bet Criston would gather all his cla.s.smates for a protest on the Olympus Grounds.

The grounds are the entryway into the Main hall that can direct a person to any, and all the cla.s.srooms in the Olympia building. Surrounding the grounds are large pine, oak, spruce, fruit bearing, in fact, every type of tree. Likewise, lining every pathway are small shrubs that are sprinkled with silver pixie dust. This keeps them fresh and healthy for nearly an eternity. Everything is sprinkled with that silly dust. Especially, the expansive hills, and gra.s.sy knolls that harbor the large white marble pillars. These tall pillars are plated with motion sensor silver stripes that shine with dazzling luminosity in the night. They're spread out across the entire school grounds, for light, among other things. So many useful functions are a.s.sociated with each individual column. All these features and more make the Olympus grounds the most beautiful place on the school's land.

In addition, the marble benches and vending machine stocked gazebos make the grounds a social gathering place that few rarely want to leave. Having the rallies there made them the first thing any and everyone saw if they wanted to enter the Olympia building. This gave Criston the opportunity to solicit and persuade students and teachers alike into supporting whatever cause he was touting that particular day.

A few times too many it seemed. Criston's last rally was to save a program that he actually hated. But he knew how many others loved it. So, he decided to use all his powers of persuasion to help influence, or rather force, the hand of the Ministrant Committee. The school decided to halt funding for the trading card and battling game known as, Deaves. Effectively putting a stop to it being played on school grounds. Suffice is to say that he didn't succeed, and he was immediately expelled for inciting a riot. Who knew geeks would get so worked up over a little card game, Criston thought seventeen years ago. He was half the age he is today when he was kicked out the year before graduation. That's more than enough time to have matured a bit. But Sena. Hendrix wasn't pleased to be waiting on such an insolent fool, as she believed Cris to be, even after all this time had pa.s.sed.

Corinth simply watched on, as Sena. Hendrix dismantled the entire set up of equipment surrounding his father. A tube here, a wire there, and monitor everywhere. There was a lot that happened over the past two days that his father loudly slept through. He came in and out of dreams, saying odd things that frightened his son. During that time, Corinth got to know Sena. Hendrix somewhat, and he wasn't sure yet whether he liked her, or completely hated her guts. He seemed confident that he'd get the answer to that question soon enough, but decided to stay as respectful as Sena. Hendrix had instructed him to be. He didn't open his mouth once during the entire ordeal.

Criston got to thinking during the silence between the three of them. He decided that silence was a cold way, even for disjointed family members, to behave around one another. He broke the ice with a simple enough question. "So," he started, "who exactly is this ominous figure you were referring to?" he tried to sound upbeat and friendly.

"You'll know that soon enough. We will discuss it at my office here in the Watchtower," her tone was oddly flat as she annunciated the 'tow' in tower.

"Actually ... I'm feeling a bit nauseous. Do you think it'd be possible to do it here?" Criston tried to sound strong, but the focus of his eyes kept drifting in and out, which made him very dizzy though he was just lying propped up in bed.

"No, we will not!" said the witch dressed all in black. "You will make your lazy way toward my office before eight pm or I bid you good luck with that maimed excuse for a hand you have there. Moreover, with the events that will reveal themselves in the coming days, you won't stand a chance without my counsel. Rest a.s.sured that they will be very trying, with...or -without my a.s.sistance!" She drilled that last point in as she turned to walk out of the room. She considered her job here... finished!