Gates of Eden: Starter Library

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Gates of Eden: Starter Library Page 9

by Theophilus Monroe


  “That sounds beautiful, Cer.”

  “I imagine it was.”

  And with these words, the world around me slowed down. My own faculties, though, seemed to operate at normal speed. But in that moment, I noticed that strange foreigner in white had made his way closer to the conversation. He was walking toward us, a few paces behind Ceridwen. Mid-step, he turned his head toward Diarmid. Up close, the man was even more incredible. His flawless face was gentle and kind, the sort of face one would like to trust by instinct alone. He smiled at Diarmid and winked. It was strikingly similar to the wink my father—my adult father—had given me in the mirror earlier, in the previous vision.

  The vision now slowed further to a pause. I stepped closer to the man. His eyes had a subtle glow about them. His irises glistened with specks of gold.

  “Dad!” I said with a loud voice.

  I waited for a response.

  “Dad?” I tried again.

  Nothing.

  What was I supposed to learn from this? Ceridwen’s story was interesting—clearly a variation on Adam and Eve, the Garden of Eden. But what did it mean for me? My dad had said I was the only hope. The hope for what? As much as I was seeing, as fascinating as it was, I had more questions now than before.

  Druids… dances… maybe that would give me a start. But the man in white. He was the key, somehow. Surely there were more visions, more memories to see…

  Everything went black, again. This time I anticipated the bright flash of light, and I tried to shield my eyes, but I didn’t seem to have workable hands—or eyes at all, for that matter—in this void. FLASH! I hated that part. Again, the colors. But this time I found myself at home. I was back in my room, holding the stone. I glanced at the clock—10:17 pm. All I had seen had only taken one minute, if that. I rubbed my eyes and went to the mirror to wash my face.

  The sight made me gasp.

  The strange man from the vision. The man in white was standing behind me, smiling, looking at me with his golden eyes. He winked. I turned to him, but he was gone. I looked back to the mirror. His reflection was gone, too.

  I took a deep breath. Holy crap. Was I seeing things?

  I was exhausted, frightened a bit, and confused, but I needed to remember everything I’d seen. I looked at the stone I was holding. I tried to will it to show me more. I tried to command it.

  “Stone—speak!”

  It felt ridiculous talking to a rock. But “ridiculous” was apparently a word that needed redefinition in my life. I didn’t know what else to do, so I grabbed my phone.

  I sat, staring at the illuminated screen for a moment.

  It was time for my nightly call to Emilie. But I knew Joni would have more answers. And after the kiss… Well, there was an itch I wanted to scratch. I almost called her instead. What I’d learned was stuff I needed a Druidess to understand. But Emilie… she depended on our evening “goodnight” chats as much as I did. And while I knew it didn’t make sense, and as much as I liked Joni, a part of me felt like kissing her was cheating on Emilie. I suppose a three-year crush on your lifetime best friend doesn’t disappear with a single kiss. Maybe a pink salt circle would do it. I scratched my head. Not likely. My feelings were conflicted. But I trusted Emilie completely. The jury was still out on Joni. Plus, I could tell Joni later.

  So, I called Emilie. And I told her everything… about the vision, anyway. Nothing about Joni. Not yet.

  7. Claimed

  I SLID THE passenger seat forward as Emilie slipped into the back seat, per usual. Our routine was immutable. And with only a few weeks left in our high school career, nothing was likely to change. There was something comfortable about the routine of it all. Something consistent. Whether the day would turn out to be a good one or not, with few exceptions, this routine was a constant I could trust.

  I could think of no better way to start each day—barring weekends, of course—than with Tyler at my side and Emilie’s irresistible smile always greeting me. Her smile persisted each day as she and her violin managed to maneuver through the narrow gap between my slid-forward passenger seat and the car’s frame, gracefully managing to relax into a space barely more spacious than a straight jacket.

  For a moment, I could imagine that my life was proceeding as usual. I could pretend that today would be like any number of prior, boring high school days. The fleeting comfort, however, was quickly dispelled as a pit sank deep into my stomach. This routine wasn’t something I could trust anymore. It was a false comfort, an illusion. If I could take a blue pill and forget all that had happened and go back to being a typical high school senior with a world of unexplored opportunities ahead, I might have. The red pill of my reality, however, had been forced down my throat. I didn’t have a choice. I may have taken it, anyway, if it were a choice. All at once, everything I was experiencing was thrilling and dreadful. I was excited to learn about what I could do, and why I had these gifts. I was also terrified about what I might do inadvertently. And there was the girl in black… She wanted something from me… but what?

  You are the only hope. I wish you didn’t have to bear this burden.

  My father’s words echoed in my mind. There was something ominous about it all. When I first learned that there might be a God, the first and most frequent thing I prayed about was that he would give me the powers of Superman. Duh, that would be awesome. God never answered that prayer. Now, though, I did seem to have supernatural powers… and my father said it would be a burden. A burden coming with the added pressure of being the only hope for something.

  Emilie retrieved something from her backpack; the sound of the zipper and the ruffling of papers was unmistakable. Seconds later, a manila envelope plopped into my lap.

  “What is this?” I asked.

  “Research,” Emilie replied with a hint of satisfaction in her voice.

  “You mean…”

  “I spent all night on the internet,” Emilie interrupted. “Google did not disappoint. After everything you old me about your vision, Bear, I couldn’t sleep.”

  “Wait,” Tyler forcibly interjected, “you’re having visions now?”

  “Well… sort of. It’s that stone. Somehow it’s showing me memories. My dad’s memories.”

  “And you didn’t think to mention this to me until now?”

  I shrugged.

  “But she knows everything. And we live in the same house, bro!”

  “Um… sorry?”

  “It’s the boobs,” Tyler insisted, holding back a laugh. “If only I had boobs…”

  “If you had boobs, you would never leave the mirror,” Emilie quipped.

  I twisted and extended my fist toward the back seat, which Emilie promptly bumped with her own.

  Tyler smiled. “She’s right, you know… If I had boobs…”

  “We don’t want to know!” I cut him off, sensing an impending TMI moment.

  Tyler held onto his smile, clearly forcing himself to hold back a quip that he must have had second thoughts about verbalizing.

  “So, I researched Druids,” Emilie continued. “Printed off whatever I could find. Went through two black ink cartridges. There’s a lot. I couldn’t study it all. Some of it conflicts. Hard to know what’s true and what isn’t. But it’s a start. Druids. Druid circle dances. Stones. Annwn. Even mysterious figures in white… That one turned up a lot of odd hits.”

  I flipped through the pages, surveying their contents. Emilie had separated it into three roughly equivalent alligator-clipped bundles.

  “It’s a lot,” Emilie explained. “And it isn’t like we’re learning anything in class. Senioritis and whatnot. So I thought we could divide and conquer.”

  I noticed each stack was labeled with a pink Post-it, each with one of our respective names on it.

  “Ems… this is… amazing. You are amazing. Thank you.” I turned back to her with a grin of gratitude.

  Emilie blushed a bit at my appreciation.

  “After school, then,” Tyler interjected. �
��First you need to get me up to speed, then Kaldi's.”

  “Kaldi's,” I agreed. By pooling our efforts, hopefully we could make sense of everything. Not to mention, I was craving some java. “And one more thing…” I hesitated a moment.

  Tyler and Emilie allowed the silence to percolate a bit. I was going to tell them about Joni. Then, I chickened out. “Never mind.”

  “Never mind?” Tyler asked.

  “Yeah… I’m sorry. My mind is all over the place. I forgot what I was going to say.”

  “You should tell us what’s on your mind, Bear,” Emilie said. “We know you’re anxious. We’re here for you.”

  “I know, Ems. I appreciate it. This stuff is just so surreal. I have so much to say, but I’m so confused I don’t know how to say any of it. Make sense?”

  I suppose this was the time I should have fessed up. I should have owned it. I should have told them both that Joni knew about me. I should have admitted that Joni had kissed me… and I’d kissed her back. They’d practically given me the opening I needed to make the admission.

  As we arrived at school and, together, proceeded through the glass-paned doors, it suddenly struck me how much of a mistake it was not to have told the whole truth. What if I saw Joni, even while walking Emilie to class? I always walked Emilie to first period, carrying her violin for her before heading to class myself. I wracked my brain; did I ever pass Joni in the halls before first period? I wasn’t sure.

  Emilie and I turned the corner. We were almost there. Pffew. The orchestra room was just a few paces away. Almost in the clear…

  Then I felt a hand, fingers interlacing with mine. I inhaled and immediately recognized the smell of a distinct, floral perfume. A striking figure with unmistakable golden locks appeared in my immediate periphery.

  “Good morning, lover boy!” Joni’s charming twang was the only thing more unmistakable than her perfume.

  I feigned a smile, but looked instead in Emilie’s direction. I tried to read her countenance. I tried to gauge her reaction. Nothing. Her expression was totally blank—and that blank stare told me everything I needed to know. My heart sank into my bowels. This wasn’t going to go over well.

  What could I say? Anything I could think of would have been the equivalent of tickling my tonsils with my own size tens. So, I assumed instead the role of Captain Obvious. “Um. Hey Ems, there’s something we need to talk about.”

  “Ya think?” She smirked, rolled her eyes, and forcibly yanked her violin out of my hand as she turned and proceeded into class.

  I release an exacerbated sigh.

  Our fingers still intertwined, I felt Joni bring her second hand on top of mine, holding my one hand between both of hers. “You didn’t tell her about us?”

  “Us? Joni, I’m not even sure what ‘us’ is yet.”

  She reached a hand to my face, directing my wandering gaze back to her own. “You felt it. In the kiss. Darlin’, the only thing less deniable than the magic in each of us is the magic between us.”

  She was right, of course. I was trying to deny it, but I did feel it. Still, the way she put it elicited an urge to laugh that I was aching to suppress.

  “Too cheesy?” Joni asked, raising a single brow.

  I had to let the laugh out, fully. “But who doesn’t like cheese?”

  “Yes. Cheese is amazing,” Joni concurred.

  “Delicious.”

  Then she startled me with a kiss on the lips. “Delicious for sure,” she said as she slowly retreated from the kiss.

  “Didn’t taste like cheese,” I added.

  “Well, I do brush my teeth,” Joni replied, flashing her bright whites.

  “I appreciate that,” I quipped back through a one-sided grin.

  Joni and I walked hand-in-hand to class. The wide-eyed, open-mouthed stares from the guys, and the dagger-eyed ones from the girls, were priceless. Everyone noticed. Joni and I were soon to be the hottest gossip fodder school-wide. As uncomfortable as all the attention we were getting made me, Joni was enjoying it. It felt almost as if our march to class was, for Joni, Caesar’s Roman triumph and I was her prized Cleopatra. Though my feelings, I was quite aware, would not match popular perception. By appearance, Joni was out of my league. Half the guys in school had been angling for a date with Joni. And here I was, not a jock. Not especially popular. Just your average guy, with Joni Campbell swooning over me…

  A part of me wanted to relish it all. I wanted to enjoy it. It usually takes a few years before the popular kids end up having to suck it up and ask the school dorks they once ignored, or even picked on, for a job. Now I was usurping the popular kids’ status three weeks before graduation. It wasn’t because I had changed—even though I had, in ways that no one else understood—but it was solely because the girl whose hand I held was the object of half the school’s desire.

  I would have savored it all. I would have enjoyed the sudden rise in status in the school’s popularity hierarchy. I would have embraced it. After all, I did like Joni. A lot. There was every reason why being with her made sense. Did I find her attractive? Hell yes. I could hardly keep my eyes off her. But everyone knew how inseparable Emilie and I had been, even though we were never a couple per se.

  I could just imagine the scene. Swarms of empathizing females gathering around Emilie, calling me a pig, a dog, or whatever other quadruped might analogously vilify me. But I also knew that Emilie would find such attentions repulsive. She might even defend me. Not like I deserved it. I should have told her about Joni… last night on the phone. I should have given her time to register it all, digest it, prepare for it all…

  Not to mention, before this “parade” through the halls, I didn’t see Joni and me as a couple. It was one kiss, for Christ’s sake. But it was one kiss, no less. There was no denying it now. This coronation made it official. And I wouldn’t get a chance to talk to Emilie until third period, AP Anatomy.

  Relationship drama aside, I still needed to talk to Joni about my vision. She was due for an update. And frankly, as odd as it might seem to anyone else, talking about my newfound Druidry seemed a less daunting matter to address than my confounded love life.

  Fortunately, due to Joni’s culinary aptitude we had mastered our Home Ec projects all semester. We were the only pair to have done so. The remainder of the class was devoted to second, or third, attempts. We had the hour free. So I told her about everything, just as I had told Emilie the night before. Joni knew I had lost my family, but didn’t know the details. She gripped my hand, tears welling up in her eyes as she listened. It was never easy to talk about, and by letting Joni into that part of my life, I was opening my heart to her in ways I hadn’t anticipated—particularly so early in our relationship. For the first time, it felt like I was beginning to fall for her, too. When I told her how I had seen my father’s reflection, had heard him tell me he loved me, I could see how she felt my pain.

  “How did that make you feel?” she asked.

  “It was nice. Comforting, in a way. But it also brought that pain back to the surface, you know? Like, I thought I had healed…”

  “Some things we never really heal from, darlin.’ We move on. We make the best of life. We can even be happy. We should be happy. But lost love leaves a wound. Living with those wounds is what makes us human.”

  I nodded, trying to hold back the tears welling up in my eyes. Joni gently caressed my hand. She knew what I was going through. Not the same. In some ways, not so bad. I mean, her family wasn’t totally killed. But she knew loss. When Messalina’s Voodoo attacked her family, it more or less reduced her mother to a shell, a sleeping corpse. Now her mom was in a coma as a result. Joni had her mother, as she knew her, stolen away from her. And to make it even harder, she still had to endure her living, breathing presence as a constant reminder of what she had lost. It was that connection, that common pain, that elicited my tears.

  Talking about the second part of my vision was easier. Diarmid, Ceridwen’s Edenic tale, the mysterious man
in white. She was fascinated. I could see her mind at work, drawing connections between what I told her and what she already knew.

  Together we looked over my third of Emilie’s research, too. She knew a few things about Druidry—she was a Druidess of sorts, after all—but wasn’t much better informed than the rest of us when it came to the details relevant to what I was experiencing. So many legends, a lot of it contradictory. And for the most part, Druidry hadn’t produced a real school of magic for millennia. As such, Joni had devoted most of her energies in the past to more practical disciplines. Things she could actually learn to perform. And she was good at it. Really good. But we were learning together.

  She found one article particularly intriguing. Real Life Shapeshifters: The Ancient Druids. The article described how ancient Druids were believed to have been able to take the forms of animals. Various tales and legends dating as far back as anything known of Druidry described such shapeshifters.

  “You seriously think I could do that?” I asked doubtfully. Though, the thought that I could actually become a man-pig—affirming much of today’s likely gossipers—revealed itself in a grin.

  “I don’t know. It’s possible. Remember Merlin, how in The Sword and the Stone he kept turning the Wart into animals? Fish. Squirrels. Ants, even.”

  “Yeah. But that’s just a Disney movie.”

  “Agreed. Probably more fiction than not. But T.H. White wrote the book that the movie was based on. He claimed his tale was rooted in older myths. In my experience researching magic and such, even the most fantastical stories have a few kernels of truth to them. And based on this article, there may be more truth to it than we would typically be inclined to believe.”

  “Maybe. I suppose nothing is really unbelievable anymore. Not until I know the rules. Not unless I can figure out how all this works.”

  “Keen an open mind, darlin.’ Leave no stone unturned.”

 

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