Souls of Fire

by Vanessa Black

  She looked confused and hurt.

  “What did I do?” she asked, her voice unsteady, her head tilted forward while her shaky hands were busying themselves with trying to put herself back together, her fingers fumbling awkwardly with the buttons on her shirt.

  Oh no, Aaron thought, now I’ve done it! He could tell she was a total mess. He had gotten her to give in to his urging, to drop her defenses, to open up to him. And she had responded passionately, with abandon, only to be dumped on the mattress and left there alone as if she were contagious.

  What had he done? She was probably crying, Aaron thought in a panic, not knowing how he could explain himself in a way that would make her forgive him.

  Now that he thought about the explanation he would give her, the only justification he could offer was of having been shocked by the image of the rose shifting; he couldn’t get into the real reason he had wanted to distance himself from her: his fear ― of her. She wouldn’t understand, Aaron sighed inwardly.

  She was sitting there looking so miserable, he had to do something. Leaving out the real reason for his behavior toward her, he thought about how best to direct her attention to her little ‘tattoo’ without freaking her out as well. But he had to tell her as soon as possible, he couldn’t just stand there and keep silent any longer while she looked so … lost.

  Steeling himself, Aaron quietly sat back down next to her. She wouldn’t even look at him, he thought, a hard lump building in his throat.

  “Persephone,” he said in a soft, apologetic voice, tilting his head toward her to get her attention. But she just ignored him; her head still tilted forward, her features resigned and incredibly sad.

  It was worse than any of her outbursts of anger had been, Aaron thought, his heart aching for the hurt he had ― once again ― caused her. It seemed lately he was spending all of his time and energy on apologizing!

  Just speaking to her wasn’t nearly good enough, Aaron decided, and gently took her hands in his. When she still didn’t react, he slowly tilted her chin up until she had no alternative but to look at him.

  He could see humiliation in her brimming eyes.

  “There’s nothing to be humiliated about,” he said, gazing intently into her eyes, hoping she could see the sincerity in his. “You did nothing wrong.”

  “But I thought …,” Persephone started, letting the rest of her sentence fall away.

  “You thought what?” Aaron enquired.

  “Nothing,” Persephone said quickly, clearly not wanting to get into it any further.

  “You thought you weren’t … exciting … me?” Aaron asked in a gentle voice.

  And when he saw verification in the way she reacted to his question, he added in a low, shaky voice: “You couldn’t be more wrong.”

  That, at last, got her attention. Her eyes darted to his, apparently searching for some kind of indication that he didn’t mean what he had just said. When she obviously found none, Aaron could almost feel her relief.

  “Then why … did you … jump away from me in such a panic?” Persephone asked; her voice already more secure than it had been a moment before.

  “I … this will sound crazy … but it’s the only explanation I have to offer, and it happens to be the truth,” Aaron said, trying to prepare Persephone for the absurdity that was to follow.

  “O-kay,” Persephone responded, emphasizing the ‘o’ to let him know her patience with hearing and accepting whacky explanations was limited.

  “Your rose … thingy … whatever it is, was starting to open up.” Aaron stated matter-of-factly.

  For a moment Persephone said nothing.

  “You’re right …,” Persephone then said in a serious tone, astounding Aaron, who couldn’t believe she was actually accepting this information at face value, “… it sounds crazy.”

  He knew it was too good to be true; served him right to mistake her sarcasm for sincerity. Of course it couldn’t be this easy!

  “Okay, I’m sorry, I should have explained it better,” Aaron admitted.

  “I agree,” Persephone retorted, “and for the record: it’s a birthmark, or at least that’s how it started out.”

  Aaron watched as her gaze wandered down and came to rest on her birthmark, taking in the newly formed image of a rose with two opened petals at the base. He thought he saw a brief shadow flit over her face before she quickly hid her emotions. Whatever she had seen visibly disturbed her.

  By any means, Aaron thought, she should have been more perturbed by what she saw than she was letting on; her features were too controlled. Suddenly his thoughts latched on to what she had said.

  “What do you mean ― started out?” Aaron asked, confused.

  “It used to be just a simple birthmark, shapeless, completely ordinary,” Persephone explained. “And then it just … then it was a rose.”

  “Wow,” Aaron said, “your explanation’s even better than mine!”

  At that, both of them burst out laughing. As the absurdity of the whole situation gradually sank in, it had them nearly rolling on the floor holding their bellies.

  After they had both regained control and were finally able to keep a straight face, Persephone said:

  “Okay. All I know is that I’ve had a shapeless birthmark all my life until it suddenly changed, out of the blue, and looked like a rose. Come to think of it, my new ‘tattoo’ was what made me go to your class in the first place because I thought you might be able to help me.”

  “So,” Aaron said, suddenly thoughtful “this little rose is the culprit, the cause for us meeting and everything that followed? And it looks so innocent.”

  “Looks can be deceiving,” Persephone muttered in a strange voice, obviously alluding to something Aaron couldn’t quite put his finger on. He was sure it involved him, though.

  “I’m sorry to have to disappoint you, but I’ve never dealt with anything like this, and I’m pretty sure I’ve never read about anything that sounds like the phenomenon you’re describing,” Aaron said. “I fear your ‘quest’ has been for nothing.”

  “I found you,” Persephone answered, her voice steady, her comment pointed.

  “But I just said, I can’t help you, I don’t know anything,” Aaron insisted; he couldn’t understand why she was pressing the issue when he’d already told her he had no insights, whatsoever.

  “I know,” Persephone assured him, “I got it the first time. That’s not what I meant.”

  Persephone paused, throwing Aaron a significant look.

  Aaron suddenly understood: “You think I have something to do with this?”

  “It might explain why you said you saw the rose opening just when we were … Could it be … reacting … to you somehow?” Persephone asked hesitantly, her voice full of conjecture.

  “No,” Aaron answered too quickly, too harshly. “No … I …,” he amended quickly in a gentler voice. “What I mean is … why would it … react to me ? It makes no sense.” He added: “It just seems … far-fetched.”

  “Not from where I stand,” Persephone said softly.

  Aaron gave her one of his most skeptical looks:

  “And where’s that?”

  “The day I realized my birthmark had changed, I paged through a brochure of college classes and …,” she paused, obviously deciding whether or not the words she was going to reveal were ones she was ready for him to hear. After clearing her throat, she continued: “… and I read your name … and I …”

  “You read my name and … what?” Aaron asked, urging her to continue as she seemed reluctant to finish the sentence.

  “I read your name and … I felt … my heart … I just had a really weird response,” Persephone finished lamely.

  “A really weird response, that’s it, that’s all?” Aaron laughed, relieved. “That’s nothing. Why did you even bring it up? So you felt freaked out about your birthmark and reacted to … other things,” Aaron summed it up, certain it meant nothing.

  “That’s what I thoug
ht at first, that it was just a reaction to the stress of seeing my altered birthmark. But after what happened … when you were near…

  What I’m trying to tell you is … that I react to you. I’ve been reacting to you in a way that just doesn’t seem normal … or healthy. And that very first reaction I had when merely reading your name, when we hadn’t even met, in retrospect seems to indicate that I was somehow … destined … to meet you. It’s like I had no choice, no say in the matter … no control over my own destiny.

  So, yes, I believe the rose ‘tattoo’ that just happened to magically appear right before I met you and discovered we’re somehow creepily ‘linked’ makes me at least consider the possibility that I’m not crazy, even though I might sound completely insane! I can just feel it in my gut that there’s a direct connection between my rose and the way I react to you.”

  Aaron didn’t answer; he didn’t know what to reply. The fact of the matter was: he thought she was right. He couldn’t deny it: he’d seen the image shift while kissing her. It must have responded directly to the way they reacted to each other.

  And they reacted to each other in crazy and dangerous ways. Something he had once again experienced not five minutes ago when he couldn’t make himself stop touching her, even though he had wanted to get away. No, that was definitely not normal!

  When he still didn’t answer, Persephone said:

  “After everything that’s happened so far ― or have you already started to forget ― how can you even say it’s far-fetched?” Persephone asked, seemingly incredulous at his having just denied all the strange occurrences between them since their paths had crossed.

  “No,” Aaron answered quietly, “No, I haven’t forgotten.”

  In fact, Aaron thought, remembering not only the two instances they had kissed but also the inexplicable occurrence the night he had dreamt of her dying and had rushed to save her from … from … being separated from him. Just thinking about the idea of her dying from not being near him … it was so bizarre, it blew his mind.

  But, call it intuition or something he had no name for, he felt it to be true. That night and the horror of her dream image were still fresh in his mind. That was the actual problem: he couldn’t forget.

  He couldn’t deny that they were linked, even if he had difficulties believing in such things ― despite the subject he taught. Maybe because of it, because of his experiences with the paranormal; the better part of inexplicable phenomena mostly turned out to be incidents easily explained by scientific methods.

  At his heart, he would always remain a skeptic; which was why situations like this, why a woman like Persephone, was making him struggle with his beliefs.

  “Wait,” Aaron said quickly, sensing Persephone was going to say more.

  He needed to admit to the truth, the truth he felt in his gut rather than having a scientific explanation for it; even if he didn’t like it, he wasn’t a man who stubbornly refused to see what was right before his eyes.

  “You’re right,” Aaron admitted, looking Persephone straight in the eyes.

  She seemed surprised at his words.

  “There’s something you need to know,” Aaron continued. “You’d asked me about the dream I had … about you.

  I thought with … Adam’s … help we could shed some light on the whole bizarre situation before we needed to speak about it again, but now … that he’s … gone … now that we’re being so open about all the freaky things that have been happening which we can’t even begin to explain, I think I should tell you about my dream … and … what it entails.”

  “Okay, I’m ready,” Persephone said, a bit apprehensive but apparently pleased to be doing something to get to the bottom of whatever they were facing.

  Aaron took a deep breath before delving into his story.

  “You were wondering how you woke up to find yourself in my bed,” Aaron started.

  “Yeah,” Persephone interrupted him, “I’d like an answer to that one.”

  “Shhh,” Aaron responded sternly, “don’t interrupt or I’ll never get it out.”

  “Okay, okay … sorry,” Persephone said a bit teasingly, making a symbolic gesture with her right hand of locking her mouth and throwing away the key, grinning sheepishly at him.

  After allowing himself a small smile in return, Aaron continued.

  “That night … err … Friday night I believe it was, I fell asleep on my bed. I hadn’t wanted to sleep since it was still early, but somehow I had felt off for days, terribly exhausted. So, I just fell asleep. And then I woke up … in my dream that is … I was in my room, it was dark, but there was a fire in the hearth; it was lighting up the room … lighting up your … naked … body as you were lying next to me. That’s when I realized I was dreaming.”

  He paused briefly, trying to gauge Persephone’s reaction, but if she felt anything particular in reference to that part of his story, she didn’t let on.

  “I reached out to touch you … and you … suddenly you grabbed my arm … your face was all distorted, ghostly white with dark bruises beneath the eyes. You … you looked like a corpse. You looked at me and … I knew you were … dying. With your last breath you said: ‘Save me’…

  And then you were gone, and I was awake … and I didn’t know what to believe, didn’t want to believe that it could’ve been real. But … somehow … this thing between us … this connection, whatever it is … it helped me find you. I crashed through your door. But your heart had already stopped beating … I … I had felt you die. I tried CPR, I tried long after I should have stopped, but you were gone. And then I … held you to me … and I kissed you … and … you came back to life.”

  After a few moments he added:

  “I took you back to my room because I didn’t know what else to do. I waited for you to regain consciousness, but you wouldn’t come around. I was beginning to think I’d lost you after all. Nothing I did seemed to make the slightest difference. Kissing you ― that would be when you woke up and punched me ― was my last desperate attempt to get a reaction; and my jaw can attest that it worked.”

  Aaron paused, looking at Persephone in time to see her shift guiltily on the mattress.

  “By the way,” he suddenly remembered, “I don’t think I recall you apologizing for punching me.”

  “You’ve got an excellent memory,” Persephone teased. “I’m sorry for misunderstanding,” Persephone said, again purposefully not apologizing for punching him. Someday, he thought, she might apologize for the actual punch.

  Aaron smiled for a second; then he quickly resumed an earnest stance.

  “It seems … I think you nearly died because of our … connection. I believe you need to be near me … you need to be close to me. I think … it might happen again if we’re separated. I realize it sounds insane … and I can’t explain it; it’s a feeling I have.”

  “Oh my God,” Persephone breathed in disbelief, the meaning of what Aaron had related only now fully sinking in.

  “I died?”

  “For a few minutes, yes,” Aaron acknowledged. “I’m sorry …,” Aaron began to say, still feeling keenly that he had hesitated, hadn’t reacted as soon as he had awoken.

  But Persephone lurched forward and fell around his neck; arms wrapped tightly around him, fingers gently tangled around the fine hair at the nape of his neck, she breathed “Thank you” softly in his ear, her lips oh so lightly brushing the tip and nearly making him go crazy. Then she kissed him tenderly on the cheek before retreating.

  “Thank you for saving my life,” Persephone repeated, looking at him as if he were your classic hero type … Super-professor, Aaron thought cynically.

  “You’re welcome,” Aaron answered in earnest. “But don’t look at me like I’m a hero,” he snorted derisively, “… I don’t deserve it … believe me … I’m not a hero; far from it … I was almost too late … because I just couldn’t believe it was real … no … didn’t want to believe it was real. It almost cost you your life.”
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  “But it didn’t,” Persephone consoled him. “Without you, I would have died! It doesn’t matter that you hesitated, it doesn’t matter that you were human and wavered for a moment, you did it, you saved me … and for that I’m grateful.”

  Aaron said nothing for a moment.

  “Then … you believe me,” he finally said, holding his breath, waiting for her answer.

  “As outrageous as it may sound … I believe you,” she replied with a reluctant sigh. “I believe that there are things in this world that just can’t be explained; crazy incidents. Hell, I’ve lived through a couple the last two weeks! Call it weird, freakish, paranormal … call it magic … I don’t care what you call it … I can feel it, too … we’re part of something … other-worldly.”

  “Wow,” Aaron replied, “impressive speech, are you looking to address the nation?” he said, laughing at the dramatic way she had just phrased her thoughts.

  “Yes,” Persephone snapped in a playful way, “Did you like it?”

  “Very much,” Aaron teased.

  Persephone smiled and then was silent, obviously thinking hard about something.

  “So … what do we do?” she asked eventually. “I mean, now that Adam … now that we can’t ask him about … this … where does that leave us?”

  “I wish I knew,” Aaron admitted in a solemn voice.

  “What about the book we took,” Persephone asked suddenly, her eyes lighting up with hope, seemingly having remembered it only then.

  Aaron himself had completely forgotten about it in the confusion of the moments before. Now that he thought about it, he was certain it would hold at least some answers since it seemed to be connected to Persephone ― that is, if they had deduced correctly that the rose on the cover was directly linked with the one on Persephone’s skin.

  But this could not be a coincidence, Aaron thought. Not this time … not after all they had discovered of late.

  Aaron reached behind him and grabbed the massive volume. He couldn’t remember ever having seen a larger, heavier book, and he had read quite a lot as a child.