The Order of the Elements 01 - Breaking Point

by Jess Bowen

  Still, the pressure of the sadness that filled her from all four parents in the room hurt her heart and battled with her logic. Where had this gift come from? Another realm was crazy, but the overwhelming sadness had to come from somewhere.

  Phoebe’s mother and father stepped closer. Her mother couldn’t speak; she only hugged her tightly.

  “School? My friends?” Phoebe asked quickly, feeling a pang at each one.

  She had worked so hard to get into Harvard; now all that would be wasted. Would she ever see her friends again? Shaking her head just slightly, she cleared her head. Yes, of course she would see them again, because she wasn’t going anywhere.

  “We’ll take care of it,” her mother whispered.

  Phoebe nodded, wondering if they were going to use alien abduction or something else equally as strange. How else would you explain that your daughter who’d never been away for more than an overnight stay had suddenly disappeared?

  “And my gift?” Phoebe wasn’t going to give in to their game, but if this whole made-up mumbo jumbo somehow played into this gift of hers, she wanted to at least hear their take on it.

  “It’s going to be a lot…stronger,” her father said softly, he too losing his voice.

  Phoebe nodded. She would figure out what that meant later. “I love you, but Mom, Dad,” she said, exchanging glances with both of them, “you can’t possibly believe…”

  Her mother dissolved into tears, and sadness radiated from her father.

  “It’s time,” Helena whispered.

  Phoebe turned to see a silver mist swirling in the middle of the room. It wasn’t solid, but it wasn’t just fog either. It was something else entirely. It was a smoke and mirrors trick; that’s what it was. She lived in a world where magic didn’t exist and science proved it impossible.

  But then something shifted inside her, like the faintest click of recognition. She’d generally characterized such twinges as déjà vu, but this felt like more than a forgotten dream. Something was waiting for her in that mist, or on the other side of it, at least. It was as if something was calling her home. Phoebe absentmindedly squeezed her mother’s hand one last time and focused instead on the pull of distant memories. She hugged her father and took the sack from his hand, still dazed and lost in thought. Slinging the book bag over her shoulder, Phoebe stepped forward to the mist to wait for Ethan. She knew he would come; he was resigned to his fate now, and a moment later he joined her.

  “You should hold hands when you go through, just in case,” Richard said in a ghost of the deep tone with which he had spoken earlier.

  Phoebe held out her hand, and Ethan took it lightly; his hands were sweating. Phoebe took one last fleeting look behind her, feeling her mother’s and father’s sadness and love one last time, and then she closed her eyes and stepped forward. She didn’t even need prodding—something was pulling her forward. It felt like half of her heart was beating on the other side of the mist, and she was going to meet up with her long forgotten past. Either that or she’d open her eyes and find she’d simply walked to the other side of the room.

  3. Portal

  Phoebe couldn’t tell how far or how fast she and Ethan had traveled through the silvery mist. She didn’t even know if they had moved beyond their first step. Her eyes were still closed, so she couldn’t see anything; her head felt detached from the rest of her body, so if her legs were moving, she couldn’t tell. She didn’t know if she had gone numb or if it was just that all her attention was focused on something else. She was leaning toward option number two, although she was sure it was a mixture of both.

  Her brain—which had been iced over from the shock only moments before—was now moving at lightning speed. Phoebe connected pieces of the conversation that her previously sluggish brain had stored away until she was ready to process them. Several things seemed to connect fairly quickly. First was the fact that her father and Richard had referred to each other as “brother.” Phoebe could only think of two reasons for such a term: either they were actually bothers, or it was simply a term of endearment.

  If the two men were indeed brothers, by blood, then that meant that Ethan—whose hand was still gripping hers rather tightly—was her cousin. Phoebe wondered if that was why he had seemed so familiar and why she could feel his emotions so strongly. As they fell through the mist, his emotions ranged from shock to disbelief, mirroring her own.

  “Oh!” she exclaimed as she stopped abruptly.

  It was now clear that she had been moving, because something solid had just stopped her. That was it, end of story; she had hit the wall on the opposite side of the room, and it was time to end this game and get her parents to the nearest psych ward. Taking a deep breath, she slowly opened her eyes.

  There was nothing in front of her but the dense silvery mist. She turned to Ethan and found that he was staring straight ahead with a blank face. She then realized that she was feeling absolutely no emotion from him. Perhaps he was shocked beyond all conscious thought.

  “You okay?” Phoebe asked cautiously.

  After a few seconds, Ethan blinked and turned to her. Phoebe felt several emotions come and go quickly as he tried to decide if he was all right or not. If she hadn’t been so concerned, the look on his face would have been comical.

  “Ethan?” she tried again, wondering if he was in need of shock treatment or something.

  Finally, he let out a long breath, and his emotions settled on flustered and vulnerable. “Yeah, I’m all right…I mean, I guess. I dunno. Is this…normal?”

  Phoebe choked on a laugh. “Not unless The Matrix was nonfiction.”

  A smile appeared on his face as he realized she was just as lost as he was. “What do we do now?”

  Phoebe turned her attention back to the situation at hand. According to everything she had ever read, portals transported instantaneously. The fact that she was even seriously considering how portals operated made her head hurt, but she finally understood why her parents had been happy and skeptical when they had found her reading science fiction and fantasy—happy because it stretched her imagination, and skeptical because it probably wasn’t at all accurate to anything they had known from their previous life.

  Their previous imagined life. Phoebe had to quit thinking in terms of this being real.

  Glancing around, she saw there was nothing but the silvery fog surrounding her and Ethan. It still didn’t look solid, but they were definitely standing on something. Phoebe stretched out her hand in front of her and watched as it flattened against something invisible. She continued to move her hand through the air to her left and behind. There were solid barriers all around.

  “Is there anything to your right?” she asked Ethan after determining that there was no other way to move.

  Ethan, who had watched Phoebe quietly, stretched out his hand to the right to feel around. He took a couple of tentative steps.

  “No, this way is clear.”

  “Then we go that way.”

  He nodded and swallowed with difficulty. He started tentatively down the only open path. Phoebe didn’t rush him. She was in no hurry to get to the other end of the rainbow, either.

  After a few minutes, Phoebe felt his impatience, and since they met no further obstacles, he started striding along quite confidently ahead of her. She was just beginning to wonder how much further they were going to have to walk when Ethan abruptly disappeared downward. Phoebe registered that he still had a hold of her hand right before she was also pulled down. She filled her lungs with air in preparation to scream only to realize that it wasn’t necessary.

  They were dropping like stones, but they were falling through nothingness. Then, remembering that something solid could come out of anywhere in this mist, Phoebe screamed anyway. Not that screaming ever really helped anything, unless someone was trapped and they thought someone was close enough to help. But what was anyone going to do for her? Phoebe doubted she’d be brave enough to try to catch someone who was falling this fast.
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  After about half an hour, she was bored and wondering if they were doomed to free-fall for the rest of their lives. She tried to focus on something else but was distracted by Ethan’s constant shift of emotions.

  Any minute now you’re going to wake up and realize you’re dreaming, Ethan thought to himself. Phoebe found it strange that his emotions had turned so verbal all of a sudden. It’s just a dream. Or a hallucination. At least there’s medication for hallucinations. Of course, I may be locked away somewhere. Although, right now I would prefer the padded room. I wonder if she really believes any of this. She’s way too calm. So, either she believes it, she thinks it’s a dream, or she’s gone completely crazy too.

  Oh, now he was questioning her sanity? Phoebe was perfectly sane, just free falling in a chasm of doom. Good times.

  Or, if I’m dreaming, then she’s just a figment of my imagination, in which case it doesn’t matter what she’s thinking because she isn’t real. How odd. I don’t even remember going to bed. Maybe Mom and Dad drugged me. Strange thing for them to do. Then again they never have been normal.

  Phoebe could tell that Ethan was going to try to rationalize this to himself in any way he could. If she was smart, she’d be doing the same.

  Then all her thoughts came to a sudden halt—had she just heard what he was thinking? Or had she imagined what she thought he would be thinking? Did that even make any sense? Was she the one going crazy?

  Okay, whatever this is, dream, hallucination, drugs, it’s getting really boring. What is the point of falling through all this mist anyway? OUCH! She’s going to break my hand!

  Upon hearing his thoughts, her hand had tightened on his, gripping too tightly. If the situation had been reversed, she didn’t think he would have blamed her. Under normal circumstances, hearing someone’s thoughts was generally cause for alarm.

  Hmmm, I wonder what’s wrong with her. She looks a little freaked. Not that I blame her. Wow, is it just me or can I see better? That’s weird; I can see every strand of her hair. This is insane. And smell, I can smell fresh rainwater from her skin. I don’t think dreams have senses, do they? Isn’t that why people pinch themselves to see if they’re dreaming? Whoa, are we slowing down?

  Phoebe was now positive that Ethan’s thoughts and emotions were somehow inside her head because his thoughts carried the same tone as his voice did, and he was right—she could see better too. Not just better, but everything. Every strand of hair, every swirl of silver mist. Everything was sharper, more defined. Colors were brighter, richer, and more multihued. Her sense of smell was better too, and her skin did smell like fresh rainwater. His smelled like freshly dug earth and honeysuckle. And hearing, did he mention hearing? Every rustle of fabric, every movement, was easily discernible.

  And it did feel as if something was starting to cushion their fall.

  Newly refocused, Phoebe’s eyes could see something in the distance. A mile below there was an opening in the silver mist to a large tunnel lined with stones and lit with torches. Two men stood there waiting. One paced agitatedly and another was still, all except for his hands, which twisted nervously. She was amazed by how many details she could make out from such a long distance away.

  The noisy thoughts in her head increased with various tones and pitches, and Phoebe was sure she was hearing more than one person’s thoughts as they fell further. Either that or she really was going completely crazy. Her father had said her gift was going to get stronger; was this what he meant? She should have asked.

  There are people down there. Okay, maybe this isn’t a dream. But how is this possible?

  Phoebe could tell by the tone that those were definitely Ethan’s thoughts. Two other voices mixed in with his and became louder by the second.

  I wonder where they are. They should have been here five minutes ago. The voice was nervous, slightly bored.

  Where are they? If they are returned in anything less than perfect condition…so help me…I’ll…One more minute and I am going after her, I mean them, myself. This voice was anxious, worried, and impatient—and so familiar that Phoebe felt a jolt in her stomach from the brief thought. These thoughts were smooth and soft like wind whispering though the trees of a silent forest. She tried to hear more of his thoughts—entranced by their very sound—but Ethan’s loud thoughts overpowered them.

  Let’s be rational here. If this is a dream, it wouldn’t feel this real, right? And a hallucination would feel too real, and I wouldn’t be able to think rationally and consider that it might be a hallucination. And if I had been drugged, I would hope that my brain could come up with something more interesting than this for entertainment. So that only leaves me with one option. This is really happening.

  They were only a hundred yards from the tunnel and moving as slowly as if they were walking down stairs rather than falling through nothing. The voices were getting louder, and it now was impossible to discern one from the collective. It just sounded like a lot of loud babble, and Phoebe’s own thoughts were lost in the mix. By the time her feet touched the ground and she surveyed the two men in front of her, it was very difficult for her to concentrate at all.

  On top of that, every sound filtering through her overly sensitive ears added to the confusion. Every footstep echoed, every twist of the nervous man’s hands scraped, every step of the pacing man’s boots squeaked. Phoebe forced all her attention away from the noise so she could concentrate on her surroundings.

  Her clear vision made it seem as if her eyes had been clouded and not properly focused until now. She took in every aspect of the men. The one who had been pacing stopped, his expression softening into relief. He was about six-four with silver-streaked black hair. It wasn’t a silver that made him look old, more like a polished silver that Phoebe wanted to touch to see if it felt like hair or metal. His hair was arranged in casual disarray and the longest strands hung in his eyes. Phoebe guessed he was only a year or two older than her, if that. His eyes were gray, though closer to silver, like mercury.

  That stopped her for a fraction of a second. She had never before seen gray eyes that bright. Or had she?

  The silver eyes seemed to pull her forward a couple of steps before the man blinked and turned away. His face was hard, hiding any emotion, his jaw squared; it looked like it was permanently clenched from anxiety or anger. He had an average build, but underneath his dark-colored clothes, Phoebe could see the many defining lines of a muscular frame.

  His skin was even-toned, with just a hint of bronze color. Gracing his neck was a dark pink, deep-looking scar. It looked like someone had once tried to slit his throat and done a very poor job of it. Phoebe’s eyes swept him one last time and took in the fact that he had several weapons strapped to him and that he wore a necklace with a charm exactly like hers.

  “Where have you been?” he demanded.

  Phoebe flinched at the harshness in his voice. She had been expecting the soft, smooth voice from the thoughts she had heard moments ago. She didn’t like his expression or his voice. Not because she was intimidated by either, but because neither one belonged there. Phoebe knew this face, but it was all wrong.

  “We got a bit stuck for a moment,” she replied when it seemed Ethan would be unable to speak any time soon. “But we’re here now. Who are you?”

  Phoebe couldn’t help but be surprised at her own voice. It wasn’t at all how she remembered it. At the sound of it, the man’s expression softened, and his sterling eyes focused back on her. Her mind was so clouded, though; she couldn’t tell what his thoughts or emotions were. It was taking all of her concentration to keep the noise pushed back.

  Within a few seconds, his hard expression returned. “Dorian Kavan,” he answered roughly. “We must get moving; this place is not entirely secure.”

  He then turned and started walking down the passageway. The moment he turned his eyes away, all the confusion in Phoebe’s mind came back. Dorian snapped his fingers at his companion, who jumped and turned to follow him.

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sp; Phoebe turned to glance at Ethan, who shrugged, and then followed behind the two men. As they walked, her head become increasingly filled with voices and emotions.

  “Where are we going?” It seemed Ethan had finally found his voice, which was a good because Phoebe couldn’t even form a question through the chaos in her mind.

  She could just hear Dorian’s reply over the roaring in her head. “To the Haven and the Annexus. Cassius is waiting for us.”

  “Are you the Master of Wind our parents told us about?” Ethan continued questioning.

  “Yes.”

  “And who is Cassius?”

  “He is the Guardian of the Haven and the High Advisor of the Annexus.”

  “What are the Haven and the Annexus?”

  “The Haven is one of the safe hiding places we have, one of five small communities of free people left in this world. Cassius protects us from the outside world, as do the other Guardians at their safe places. The Annexus is where everyone trains to use their powers and learns combat training. When humans reach the age of nineteen, they are all sent here to train, just like you will begin doing in a few days.”

  “All this is true then?”

  “If by that you are wondering if magic really exists, you have powers, you are a Master of an Element, and you’re going to help us save our world, then yes, it is true. This is your world too. Just because you lived in another world for sixteen years does not make this place any less your home.”

  “Sixteen years?” Ethan asked, confusion evident in his voice.

  “You and Phoebe were born here and lived here until you were three; that’s when we sent you into a better protected hiding place until you became of age.”