Power

by Theresa Jones

  Catching on to my not quite so subtle hints, he asked, “Are you feeling a little stiff again?”

  Before I could even answer, he was reaching for me. He hesitated, so I offered my hand to him. I think this was the first time we had ever touched skin to skin. The feeling was mesmerizing. The electrical current started flowing between us, stronger than ever before. I imagined sparks flying between us, literally. He felt so warm, almost hot; my hand could have started melting but I wouldn’t have noticed. It was soft, especially for a man’s hand, but firm, as if his hands were as toned as the rest of his body.

  I paused, wanting not only the feeling of his power to linger, but the feeling of HIM to linger. I was looking down, unable to look him in the eye while I was enjoying his touch so much. Just like last time, the stiffness and discomfort left almost instantly as his power flooded through me.

  The exhilarating rush of it all made me wonder if he felt the same way I did. Almost instantly guilt washed over me. I had just lost my fiancé, and here I was thinking about another man, enjoying his touch. The love I had for Alex had been gone for years now, but I still cared about him; still mourned his death. The expression on my face must have changed, as David took his hand away quickly and looked slightly ashamed. Despite the flurry of emotions, I made myself look up at him and mutter, “Thank you.”

  His face was always so hard to read. Did he see the confusion I had within? Did he notice that I craved his touch? Did he notice my awkwardness in nearly every situation with him? I sighed, hoping to calm my mood, though it did little to help. It wasn’t until my eyes met his that I instantly felt calmer. He smiled, that make-your-knees-go-weak smile, and I could not help but smile back. “Did that help?” he asked.

  Of course, it was just a courtesy, as he knew already that it alleviated the soreness. But I nodded, not sure I could trust my voice at the moment. His head slightly nodded in agreement. “Great, then let’s continue.” It was more of a suggestion than an order, almost as though he made it a question. And since I still could not read his face, I nodded again, just in case.

  “The next lesson will be about the Prophesy. Everyone knows of it and learns it the first day of training. You are not forced or told to memorize it, though it will come up quite often so you naturally will.” He cleared his throat and began, almost as if he was reading, “There will come a day when all the world is filled with evil, when evil has risen up to believe it can defeat God and bring about the End. On that blessed day, she will be born. She will be the one who has descended from all of the Primitus and she will save the world from termination.” He paused, making sure it sunk in I suppose. But it wasn’t a riddle or anything. “It is written in Latin on the door to the Compound and is in several of the paintings as well.” I nodded, letting him know that I understood and he could continue.

  “Every other time they have tried to make this happen, they have failed miserably, but this time it is working. The signs are all there. The prophesy refers to the End and saving the world from termination. If this is what we have been preparing for centuries for, the Descendant must come to save us… the problem is, we have to find her.”

  I nodded, because I didn’t know what else to do. Do I just accept this? It was obvious that a war was brewing, but we have had world wars before. Why did now have to be different? Why did this have to be the end?

  Before I could argue my point that everyone was just jumping to conclusions, he continued, “It has been debated whether or not to let you in on this next piece of information.” He cleared his throat. He looked nervous or uncomfortable, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear what was coming next.

  “Allison, I honestly don’t know how it would make someone feel to know this, but I have been told to tell you.” He paused again; apparently he was the one who did not want me to know. I could not help but thinking, why was there even this debate? Why the secrecy? It was so frustrating being left in the dark.

  Cautiously, he broke through my distracted thoughts, “Damien has come to believe that you are the Descendant; that you are the girl from the prophesy. That is the reason why he came after you himself. And the mere fact that you escaped him, with help or otherwise, has led him to believe his suspicions are fact. There is hardly a person alive who has gone to battle with a leader of the Rising and lived to tell the tale..” He paused now, knowing that I would have questions.

  I thought about that. If I were the descendant then that would mean I would have the power to do everything he had been talking about! But how could Damien have known before I even knew I had power to begin with? How was I going to cope if I really did have all that power? I couldn’t control it now and I wasn’t even trying to use it. They wanted me to save the world?

  He leaned forward, as if to pacify me, and went on. “However, the council is tracking your genealogy to try to prove…”

  I was starting to go insane. It was obvious that he knew more than he was saying and it almost felt like he didn’t believe that I was the one they were looking for. But why would everyone else believe it then?

  “David, I have to know what you think! I can’t tell by just looking at you and whether I can read minds or not is still undetermined, so please…” I gathered my thoughts to make it come out coherently, “First, why did you not want me to know? And second, do you think I am not the one in the prophesy?”

  He looked upset and self-conscious. “Why would it matter what I think? Why would my thoughts make such a difference to you?”

  I wasn’t sure why his thoughts mattered so much to me, but they did. Maybe because he was my teacher, even before we got to the Compound. He had been the one that helped me understand what was happening in my life. Maybe I cared because he was honest and dependable and so many other rare qualities. Or maybe it was the way he made me feel safe and calm. But regardless of the reason why, it did matter to me.

  I placed my hand on his and looked into his eyes as he tilted his head to the side to look down at me. “I trust what you have to say and…” I was searching for the right words, but he chose to answer me instead.

  “There is more to it than you know. But I believe that is enough of the lessons for now. I just wanted you to hear it from me before someone mentioned it.” He stood, stretching, and gently patted his stomach, stating, “I’m starving!”

  Typical man, changing the subject when he didn’t want to talk about something. But now that he mentioned it, I was hungry too. I would just have to get more out of him another day, and I was sure there would be plenty more lessons like this to come. He stood and motioned for me to come with him, waiting for me so we could walk side by side. And once again, with the slightest brush of his fingers to my lower back, he removed all the stiffness and discomfort.

  Chapter 10

  Training

  “Mom!” Sam was playfully shaking me back and forth to wake me. I grabbed her and pulled her close, making her cuddle with me. She turned slightly to face me and wrapped her perfect little arms around my neck, squeezing. I sighed at how completely wonderful things had turned out to be. I experienced a feeling of near euphoria every time I awoke without having another of those horrifying dreams and knowing that Sam was happy and safe while I learned to fight bad guys took such a load off of my mind.

  “Mom, it’s almost nine already, and David will be angry with me if I let you be late.” Sam said.

  I laughed, amused that my five year old felt responsible for having me be on time for a lesson. As I sat up and threw my legs over the side of the bed, I told her, “Don’t worry, love, I’ll be there on time. I was just about to get up anyways.” Having fulfilled her assumed responsibilities, Sam ran back into the living room.

  You would think after a full month of training I would be a little closer to feeling prepared. But no, I still had so much more to learn. Though David was constantly telling me how quickly I was catching on, I just couldn’t see it. So far I had barely been able to move a chair across the floor, and my shield had only prote
cted me against the smallest of David’s attacks. I was still getting used to using my power without allowing it to overwhelm me. David said I just wasn’t staying focused and that I would let go of my concentration. He said he could feel the power building, and every time he thought I would produce some amazing feat of control and power I always just let go.

  Before I got out of bed, I noticed a single rose on the nightstand next to me, it was fully bloomed, huge, and bright red. I could even smell it from my bed. I reached over to pick it up and inhaled its sweet perfume. I allowed the silky petals to tickle my nose before I placed it back on the nightstand.

  Sam poked her head through the door and questioned, “Sharon will be here soon, is it ok if go ahead and dress in my dance clothes?”

  I had often gone to watch the dancers practice, sitting quietly in the back so as to not alert anyone to my presence, just waiting until Sam would get up and practice herself. Rick had told me on more than one occasion that we would not know whether she would have power until her 6 birthday. But she had always wanted to dance, and what better teachers were there than dancers who could actually bring a dance alive? Dancers that can dance courage, or love, or faith… Dancers that can ignite passion? Not to mention, Sharon, the highest level of Dancer here at the Compound, had taken it on herself to work with Sam while I was in my lessons.

  “Allison, can I speak with you for a second?” Sharon had asked me, motioning for me to have a seat next to her on the couch in my living room. It was the end of my fourth day at the Compound and Sharon had followed Sam and I back to our place. Obviously she wanted to speak with me about Sam, but I was unsure about what. My first thought was, ‘Did she misbehave?’ but I quickly dismissed it, as Sam rarely ever misbehaved. But there had to be some kind of problem, why else would she look so serious?

  I walked over to the couch and sat, the apprehension washing over me, and answered as calmly as I could, “Sure, absolutely.”

  She sat up straight and asked, “Was Samantha’s father powerful as well?”

  Not exactly what I had been expecting. Actually, not one other person here had asked me that question yet. Alex had never shown any kind of power, he was obviously never able to read my mind. His parents did not seem like they could have ever have even imagined something like the Order or the Rising and they certainly never paid much attention to the coming war.

  Hmm… after deliberating for a few seconds, I answered, “I honestly don’t know. But I don’t think so. Why do you ask?”

  She smiled, a beautiful smile, and let her excitement show through as she explained, “Sam has amazing talent! She is so very passionate about dancing – and is only five years old. I can teach her a move, show her how to do it, and within thirty minutes, she has it down like a pro!” She took a deep breath, realizing she had said all of that in only one breath, and continued, “She amazes me!” And then she sighed and looked down, trying to find the right words.

  Obviously I love to hear people enthuse about my daughter, so I waited patiently for her to find her words and continue. “Allison, I have never had the pleasure of teaching children before, but she learns faster than some of my new gals. I can’t help feeling that there is something really special in her.” I realized then that I was beaming, it was amazing to have another person almost as taken with my daughter as I was.

  “Sharon, she has always loved to dance. She dances all the time, sometimes making up a tune to dance to, or just dancing to the silence. I am so glad that you aren’t upset with her or something! I know she would be devastated if she couldn’t come dance with you anymore.”

  The conversation had just gone from there. We had stayed up for hours talking about everything. She had become one of my closest confidantes, someone I felt I could always count on.

  I came back to the present, and answered with a simple, “Yeah, sure, Sam.”

  Sam loved to be with Sharon, and there really was no point in asking her to dress in regular children’s clothes if she was just to be dancing the whole time anyway. Before she ran off, I added, “And Sammy, can you tell her that I wanted to ask her a question before y’all run out of here?”

  I vaguely heard her response as she was already running to her room to change, “Sure, Mom.”

  Sharon walked in after a brief tap on the front door to our quarters. Her cherry cheeks were offset by her gorgeous, olive colored skin, and her deep brown and red colored hair made her look like she glowed. She was wearing a flowing skirt that was bright pink and had designs of red, yellow, and gold on it, much like a skirt that a Mexican folk dancer might wear. She had a scarf on her head, which pulled her hair out of her face, and I thought she looked almost like a gypsy. Of course, she looked stunning, as always. I could hear Sam running to her and relaying my request. I peeked past the doorway and saw the two of them twirling around and dancing together.

  I finished up quickly in the restroom and hurried out to greet her.

  “Allison, dear, you look wonderful today.” She greeted me as I hurried to grab a hug.

  “Thank you, Sharon.” We pulled away from each other and I took this time to ask her, “I was wondering if you would mind keeping Sam for a little longer than normal today?” She smiled, and I knew her answer would be yes.

  “Absolutely, you know Sam is welcome with us anytime… always!” She answered, automatically switching to the plural all the dancers use. Sharon was always so happy to look after Sam, and I was pretty sure she wished she didn’t have to bring her back some days. It was so nice to feel that asking her to look after Sam wasn’t an imposition.

  “Thank you so much, Sharon. I’m going to try to convince David to let me out today!” I told her, my excitement shining through. Over the last month I have trained and trained. David kept telling me that once I could keep my shield up, we would go outside to practice, that it sometimes would help. He just didn’t want to risk it too soon.

  In the last month, we had come to believe that Damien had opened the third Seal. Several countries, including England, Spain, France, Russia, several Asian countries, and even portions of the United States, have had outbreaks of different diseases that affected the livestock and plants. The world was starting to ration food. There were riots breaking out, and looting was prominent. It made me glad I had not left Sam behind, though I still feared for my mother.

  But everything going on outside the Compound just made the almost inevitable impending war – both ours and the world’s – even more likely. David was already too cautious as my teacher and I knew my shield wouldn’t stay up that long or anything, but I needed a change of pace. I needed to get out of this building. I had made up my mind, I would make him let me go outside today, somehow.

  She was beaming back at me, “Good for you. You need to stand your ground with him. Sometimes people are training for over a year before they get their shield up, but I know you have so much potential. You might just need to get out of the Hall for a while and spread your wings, so to speak.”

  “Years? Dang!” Well there is no way I would wait that long. Maybe they had all the time in the world, but I didn’t. I had talked to my mom again last night and all I could think about was how much I missed her, how worried I was for her safety, and how badly I wanted to go see her. I was not going to wait years for that. “Maybe they need to change their teaching methods, huh?”

  I reached over and pulled Samantha in for a hug before they left and said, “Thank you for my flower, sweetheart.”

  She pulled back and looked at me, confusion spread all over her delicate features.

  “What flower?” she asked.

  “The big rose on my nightstand.” I told her, wondering how she could have forgotten.

  “I didn’t leave you a flower. I saw it there, but I didn’t put it there.”

  This was the fourth time so far I had found something like this. Every time I found something, whether the poem, the drawing, or the little basket of candies, I had thought it was Samantha, and every time she d
enied it was her. Still, it brought me up short. If I didn’t know better, I would have thought someone was trying to flirt with me. But who?

  Sharon and Sam left then, leaving me a bit of time to ponder the question of the rose before going down to my lesson. We had no need to lock the doors here, being on the ‘good guys’ team, we were all pretty trustworthy.

  Then I started to feel a littel creeped out. What if someone had come in while I was asleep? Could it have been there before I even went to bed? I mean, I guess it could have. I was always so exhausted from training and catching up on months of not sleeping well. I usually just fell asleep immediately.

  This was the first time my little present was in my room, though. The other three times they had been found in the kitchen. Putting the creepy factor aside, maybe I had a secret admirer. The funny thing was, there was only one person that I was hoping would have left that flower for me.

  It shouldn’t have surprised me, after spending almost every day with him, that I could grow to have feelings for him. He was always kind and generous, considerate and caring. He was conscious of my thoughts and feelings and made me feel special. Something no man had ever done for me before.

  David. My mind instantly imagined a pair of green emerald eyes glittering beneath thick heavy lashes. High cheekbones beneath them, and a tousle of thick, light brown hair could make any girl jealous, but his strong jaw and serious lips kept his face masculine and terribly appealing. But it was way too much to hope that he would be the one leaving me sweet gifts.

  Besides, what if it wasn’t him? What If someone is just trying to make me feel welcome? I couldn’t allow myself to start feeling things for him.

  And anyways, I shouldn’t even be entertaining thoughts like that, not with Alex being gone for just a month. The first time I had a drink with Sharon, we were just sitting on the couch, talking about my day of training, when she poured us each a glass of Jose Cuervo tequila mixed with some orange juice. It scared me that I started to get a little upset, but it was Alex’s favorite drink when we went out. I realized that now he was gone, I would never see him drink again. And whilst that really wasn’t a bad thing, usually after drinking he wasn’t very nice anyways, I couldn’t help but feel the loss of him just then.