by Kim Petersen
A fleeting grin played on his mouth. Now that Regan Knowles knew Arella Anderson had the seed, he knew he’d need a different approach in securing his future. He felt himself begin to succumb to the persistent pluck of slumber and slowly fell into its wondrous grip while his mind sifted through a plot to destroy the Dark Star.
The morning light streaked the sky a canvas of orange-pink hues, filtering across the bay as Arella sat in the back seat of the police car. She barely noticed. Her mind felt like a well-used sieve. She had spent the last hours under interrogation while the police had crunched her brain like an icepick. Finally, they offered to drive her home.
Her mind was jumbled like a floating jig-saw puzzle in that cold room. She had picked a crevice in the wall, a soft place for her eyes to settle on as she struggled to piece together the story. The chill in the air-conditioned room iced her bones. She was certain the full blast of the cold air had played a major part in extracting information from perps. The wintry sting was enough alone to squirm out the truth. Bit by bit, she had pulled parts of the truth and told the police what she had seen and heard, leaving out the hybrid creature and the names of the men at her home the night before. The police were baffled at the lack of information she provided, especially on Logan’s shredded body. Logan. She squeezed her eyes, pushing out a lone tear. As if she hadn’t cried enough already. She shook her head. How could this be happening? Regan’s warning circulated in her mind like a cyclone. She had been aware enough to keep the truth from the police. At least for now.
She bit down on her lip and eyed the front door as the police car pulled up out the front of her house. Her chest felt hollow, her heart a barren void. Her reluctance to return to her home overwhelmed her. She knew his blood still stained the carpets and walls. One of the police officers turned to look at her, his eyes an image of warmth.
‘Forensics are done here. You are free to go inside, but it hasn’t been cleaned yet,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘Are you sure there’s not someplace else we can take you … family?’
She inhaled sharply. ‘No,’ she answered quickly, gazing at the yellow police tape draped across her front door. ‘No. I’ll be okay. I need to get my things and I’ll take my car and stay with a friend.’ She swung her eyes back at him, swallowing the wedge in her throat.
I can do this. Just get in and get out. It’ll be okay.
‘Would you like us to come in with you?’
She shook her head and said nothing. Words eluded her. Her heart tripped into her throat as she reached for the car door handle.
Arella walked tentatively toward the house. Her legs began to wobble as her gut twisted. She craved solace but she knew she wouldn’t find it here. She needed someplace serene and private where she could practice the only thing she thought would help her get through this nightmare – her gifts.
Her thoughts wrangled as she faced a choice. Run away and keep breathing or fight back and risk her life.
It was about time she learned how to control her light-force powers. Now, she had an incentive. Or an incentive had found her. She knew Regan was right when he said Zane Crais wouldn’t let her live. And with each surge of blood circulating through her body, she knew she wouldn’t go down without a fight. She had powers of her own, and for the first time in her life she intended to nurture those gifts. She was going to shine, damn it, and she was going to get to the bottom of this ‘seed’ business too. If it’s the seed they wanted, then she will possess it. The problem was that she had no idea what seed these gangster-creature people were even talking about.
A shot of adrenaline skimmed through her body as she entered the house. She battled to keep her thoughts together, keeping her eyes focused as she rushed to her bedroom to gather some necessities. She felt as if she walked in between herself, as if her mind was not really her own. Was she really going through the motions? She was unsure. She grabbed an overnight bag and blindly stuffed it with warm clothes, toiletries and a couple of pairs of shoes before collapsing on her bed.
Exhaustion overcame her. She stared aimlessly around the room until her aquamarine eyes settled on the framed photograph hanging on the wall. It was an image of her and Logan taken when they had first fallen in love – a time before their hearts had grown estranged, when they had loved fiercely and thrived within its tender folds. An era of promise and passion. They had been at the park, picnicking under a tree on a tartan rug with red wine, cheese and bread. Logan had been teasing her, sneaking a trail of kisses up the length of her neck, while pledging whispers of desire tickled against her skin. Her fingers were pressed into his shoulders, and laughter creased her eyes as he pushed his face close to hers and snapped the photograph.
It was a time before love had grown hard and weary; a blissful moment captured and frozen against her bedroom wall.
She tore her eyes from the frame, a low sob catching in her throat. No matter how their love had dwindled, Logan had claimed a piece of her heart that forever belonged to him. Her world was shattering around her. She was stuck between an upside-down universe and she knew she had to find a way to get up again. She had to right the wrong that had befallen Logan … and Keira. Where is Keira? For some unknown reason, she was certain Keira’s disappearance was somehow connected.
Arella had to find a way to connect with her angel ancestry to find the clarity she desperately needed. She squeezed her eyelids together and willed her thoughts to unscramble. She filled her lungs with bottomless breaths until her mind became a blank slate. A fleeting moment of respite found her as she was engulfed in a great silence.
Angels.
The word appeared before her like a rolling movie screen credit.
Angels.
There was a time when Arella often visited a place where her angel flourished. It was a divine realm derived from pure imagination; a world where anything was possible. The Golden World. She recalled the mystical beauty of the dark angel who would guide her along a path littered with wonder. With the years, her memories of that place had faded with her reluctance to embrace her angelic heritage. She had deliberately shunned her angel and the Golden World she would often visit between her waking hours until it almost felt like a mirage. Only the angelic presence of her mother and her aunt Bella reminded her of that time. Memories she had decided she could do without.
Arella’s eyes flew open. She swung her feet to the floor and studied the photograph. She allowed a spark to kindle within her as she summoned her determination together. This was a time to connect with her heritage. She knew she stood on the threshold of change. She could both cower and probably die in the process of trying to avoid Zane Crais and Regan Knowles, or she could make contact with her divine roots and envelop all she was capable of and become the woman she was meant to be.
She was a descendant of the Ascended Angels; an ancient race of beings sent to defend the earth from Apepsis and his wicked intention to reign over humanity and to populate the earth with his will.
Recollections and images danced in her mind – things she had long ago pushed to a desolate place in the back reaches of her mind. She had been kidnapped by her mother’s brother, Ace, when she was young. She recalled his abilities to morph into a giant black snake. He was menacing and frightening, yet she was never scared of him. She always chose to see the good in the uncle she adored. The serpent god had tried to infect her family with his will, yet he failed to conquer the golden threads of love that flowed between them, regardless how hard he tried.
Arella had almost forgotten about Apepsis until she heard Zane speak his name on her back porch the night before. Obviously, the serpent god was on the move again, inflicting his will and powers over the weakest souls devoid of self-love. The serpent god always chose those who yearned and craved to fill the emptiness that shrouded their lives. She figured the Serenity Seed must be pivotal within the folds of this story. It was vital that she found it before Zane and Regan did.
Resolve and purpose prompted a decision. Arella hadn’t seen her
uncle Ace in years. He preferred living a quiet life in the mountains far from the city. She gathered her bag and scooped up her keys, deliberately avoiding the living room as she slammed the front door and headed to her car. It was about time she found her uncle. He was the only person she knew who had been intimately touched by Apepsis and survived the encounter. But first she would need to find somewhere secluded to practice her light-force abilities.
It was still early. The sun basked over the horizon with the promise of a warm winter’s day ahead. Arella loved the winter sun best. Usually she allowed herself time to bathe under its renewing rays and feel the glowing energy surround her. Yet she hardly noticed the blazing rays streaking through the silvery clouds and glittering along the surface of the bay as she drove south. She barely even saw the road between the peak morning traffic. Commuters were heading out for another day at work, and buses full of school students filled the lanes around her while she went through the motions of navigating her car to an unknown destination. Something was compelling her forward. An affable yet firm force pulled her along like a soft song nourishing her soul.
Twenty minutes later, Arella was surprised to find herself in the sleepy southern suburbs of Sydney. She drove along an unfamiliar street where the substantial houses claimed a lazy stretch of bay as their backyard. She pulled into a clearing and peered around, spotting a sloping trail that cut through the long grass leading to the water.
She frowned as she stepped from the car in a daze. She circled to the boot to grab a rug while taking in her surroundings. Her senses kicked into overdrive as she contemplated the inexplicable intimacy tying her to this location. She had never seen this place, yet some part of her felt connected to the quiet banks and secluded trees alongside the water. A flock of black cockatoos squawked overhead as they scattered in a flock from the trees, snapping her back to the present.
No sooner had her feet stepped onto the trail when a tingle ran around the base of her skull and shimmied over her scalp. Goosebumps prickled her skin as she felt herself tugged along. She picked up her pace and snaked her way down to the inlet.
She paused when she reached the water. Instinctively, she turned left where the foliage appeared thick and green with tangled undergrowth. She pushed back branches, vines and leaves as she listened closely to her inner being. An innate knowledge drew her forward through the bladed grass until she stopped before a willow tree.
She cranked her head up at the massive tree. A dense cover of leaves swayed gently over the water as longer branches twisted and spiraled around the thick trunk as if alive as they dangled over the fresh rippling wavelets. Thick brown bark plummeted deep within the earth like a majestic giant.
Arella smiled.
‘Hello tree.’
She spread the rug beneath the branches and regarded the heart of the tree. ‘I bet you have some secrets to share.’
A light breeze snapped against her skin, and suddenly a thousand dandelion seedlings rained down like a fresh dusting of snow. She smiled as she turned her hands palms-up to catch the feathery bristles falling all around her.
‘Wow,’ she whispered.
The breeze subsided, and all became still. Even the birds were quiet. Arella closed her eyes and focused on her breath. She drew a deep breath and centered herself just as she had watched her mother and aunt practice a hundred times before. She had tried this sacred exercise many times previously. This time was different. This time her intent was pure, and she was ready.
Arella felt them before she heard them. Their unearthly presence was more significant and real to her than any human being. It was an essence so authentic, it wrapped around her heart and shrouded her whole being within its sacred arms. They paraded through her consciousness, overjoyed she had finally chosen to know her ancestral roots and receive the transcending gifts that belonged to her. Their whispers penetrated her mind, winding around her soul like a beautiful symphony. And she heard them clearly.
She gasped and opened her eyes. She blinked and gazed around with a new sense of purpose. Resistance crumbled to transparency as she tilted her chin toward the leaves above. Everything became obvious. She understood the symbolic sentiment of the secluded willow tree. It was a place marked by a sacred union – a hallowed moment when an exceptional being was granted entry into the physical realm. It was the place of her conception.
She was overwhelmed in a surge of exhilaration. She felt impulsive and careless, as if a great weight had been lifted and she was free to dance her own dance and be who she wanted to be. The trauma and turmoil that had accompanied her here fell away, leaving her feeling alive next to the hand of the creator and her angelic ancestors, and she realized she had never really been alone. Loneliness had all been an illusion.
She sprang to her feet, deliberately focusing on the warming sun rays filtering through the willow leaves. She basked under their shifting beams until her own light-ray mirrored down over her. The celestial power infused into her, charging her body. She stood firm, determined to stay consciously aware while accepting the light-ray and reveling in the omnipresent qualities filling her being. She raised her arms high, palms outstretched, acknowledging the eternal recognition seeping into her consciousness as she began to grasp ancient laws of form and manifestation. The tree tops bristled as she gazed down at the water. She rounded her lips into an ‘O’ and released a soft rush of air.
The water glimmered and began to tremble as her breath wafted lazily over the surface and rippled in response. The current carved out a shallow channel to the embankment on the other side. Dawdling ducks spread and flapped their wings as they squabbled an alert while fleeing from the sudden shift in the bay. Fish and shelled creatures leaped and crawled to escape the watery groove. Arella laughed and peered around the willow tree. She had channeled the light-ray for the first time, used her manipulating powers and remembered every second of the experience.
Elation and astonishment overwhelmed her as she sprawled down onto the rug again and closed her eyes. In her sleep, she drifted into the Golden World while listening to the birds and the lapping water.
Arella threw an arm over her face, determined to hold on to the silence for as long as she could. The sound of children’s voices drifted along the bay water and echoed in her ears. She blinked under her arm, losing the last tendrils of sleep as everything came rushing back to her. The sun had dipped farther west, lengthening the tree shadows lurching around her. She shivered and hugged herself as she sat up and looked around, realizing she had been sleeping under the willow tree for hours.
Logan.
Arella gasped as images of him floated through her mind. He had dream-walked with her along the sapphire sea in the Golden World. He had put his hands around hers. He had stroked her jawline and whispered his love and contentment. His brown hair fell smooth and framed his olive features like a silky glove. His brown eyes glowed whiskey as he looked on at her with her dark angel ever-present in the background.
Logan was at peace. He was home and happy. Her heart soared as her awareness filled with the truth. Her lips curled up in a smile as she brought the memories back with her.
My dark angel.
She had walked beside her before her physical incarnation and stayed present throughout the density of human embodiment. She had held her hand and guided Arella while she navigated an emotionally charged life filled with sensations and human-bound feelings. She had lent her the genetic gifts that flowed through her bloodline and streamed into her inner being. Her grandmother.
Her grandmother’s luminous eyes had flashed green beneath the thick lashes shadowing them as she embraced Arella at the magnificent Golden World gates, welcoming her back to a place she had never really forgotten. There she became reacquainted with her greater-self and her angelic history, and rekindled long-held knowledge with the higher spirits.
Arella’s chest rose with a burst of energy. She leaped to her feet and gathered up the rug. She felt a sense of urgency as she retraced her steps t
hrough the shrubbery back to her car. Her cell phone came to life as soon as she scrambled into the car, and a quick glance revealed Jacques’s pouting grin. She clicked the cell open.
‘Hello? Button, are you there?’
‘Jacques, I’m here.’
A heavy sigh. ‘Oh, thank god! I’ve been worried sick about you! I ran into Mrs Peacock this morning. She told me everything. Arella, what happened? Where are you? Are you okay? … Is Logan really - d - dead?’
Leave it to Mrs Peacock to spread the news. Her other virtues were less than appealing.
‘I’m okay. I’ll fill you in on everything when I get there. Is Lenny home?’
‘Yes. Get here? Oh, I don’t know if that’s a great idea. Lenny is still really pissed with me for coming home so late last night. I promised to make him a custard cream pie if you know what I mean. I could meet …’
She cut in. ‘Jacques! Listen, Logan is dead. I have two psychopaths on my case looking for a seed I don’t have, and I’ve just learned to control my abilities – I think. I need Lenny to do a little research on something called the Serenity Seed. I need to know what this seed is and what it represents … oh, and where to start searching for it.’
Silence.
‘Jacques?’
A short squeal quaked down the line. ‘Oh my god … Button! Is this something like the Da Vinci Code? Because if it is, screw the custard cream pie! We can do that another time, anytime!’ His voice rose to a pitch. He took a sharp breath and paused. ‘Rella, what do you mean, you think you can control your abilities?’
‘Jacques, please just ask Lenny to start digging around the seed, he’s the best researcher I know. Do you have a pen, write it down – Serenity Seed; S-E-R-’
‘I know how to spell Serenity Seed,’ Jacques snapped.
‘Yeah, sure. Look, I’m sorry Lenny’s still upset with you. Let me talk to him. I’ll be over soon.’
