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Reawakening

Page 6

by CM Raymond


  He loosened the cloak from around his neck and stepped boldly out from the crowd. People began to whisper as he climbed on the pile of rocks and draped his cloak over her, covering the woman’s shame.

  The murmurs from the crowd turned to shouts as they realized what he was doing. But they all blended into an inaudible cacophony. His mind raced. He knew it was risky; that this could be the act that got him taken to the cells.

  But he didn’t care. Something had to be done—and if no one else would do it, he would be the one—whatever the cost.

  While he untied the woman’s arms, he was joined by another citizen, someone familiar from the streets of Queen’s Boulevard, and then another.

  They helped him take her down from the stake. As gentle as a new father, Parker gathered the woman’s body in his arms. In a haze, he stepped through the crowd. A man stepped into the path the others had cleared and spat in his face, screaming, “Unlawful.” But Parker pushed through, without a glance behind him.

  Walking back to the Boulevard, he lowered her body to the ground and slumped down beside her.

  Looking up, he found a group of all ages staring down at him. He waiting for the stoning, but instead, they all nodded their approval, tears glistening in their eyes.

  Miranda’s brutal murder was the single greatest act of hatred that Parker had ever witnessed, and the fact that most of the city was willing to stand by filled him with a pain he had never before experienced.

  But this small group of people in front of him, they knew that evil had been done here today. Hints of goodness still existed in Arcadia. Parker was convinced he would find them.

  And when Hannah returned, he would stand by her side as she purged the true unworthy from Irth.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Hannah’s dream was cut short by the hissing of dragon’s breath—literal dragon’s breath.

  She waved a hand in front of her nose.

  Opening her eyes, she pushed Sal away. “Just a bit longer,” she begged her beast, but Sal wouldn’t stop clawing at her blankets. Finally, Hannah relented. “OK, OK.”

  As Hannah rolled over to push the dragon off of her, she found a young mystic girl standing over her bed.

  “Oh, hey. Yeah, not creepy at all. You do this all the time?” she asked, trying to wake up.

  The girl’s eyes cut to the dragon and back to Hannah.

  “Don’t worry,” Hannah said. “This guy is harmless.” She pushed Sal off the bed and swung her legs over the edge. “What’s up?”

  “I’m sorry to wake you, that thing was going to attack me.”

  Hannah laughed. “No problem, and really, he’s kind of a scared little douche with wings.”

  The girl knitted her brow in confusion.

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  She nodded. “OK, I drew a bath for you,” she said pointing to the bathroom the next room over. “And set out some clean robes for you to train with.”

  “Perfect,” Hannah said. “I haven’t had a bath since… What year is it?”

  The girl laughed, scrunched her nose, and left.

  Hannah stared at the door as it closed behind the girl. I should lock that thing, Hannah thought.

  Although the young mystic girl didn’t seem like much of a threat, Hannah was concerned that anyone could sneak up on her while she was sleeping. She climbed out of bed and found that its lock was missing. Instead, she grabbed a chair and propped it underneath the handle. “That should work,” she said confidently to herself.

  Turning around, she looked down at Sal, who had curled up in the warm spot on the bed she had just vacated. “Traitor,” she said. But the large lizard didn’t open his eyes or seem to care.

  Walking past the bed and her sleeping pet, she entered the large bathroom that adjoined her room. There was a floor to ceiling mirror, and Hannah took herself in. She was a mess.

  Bathing wasn’t a high priority on the Boulevard, and she had been so focused on her training ever since she left, that cleanliness or hair care really hadn’t been a priority. But as she looked at the large stone tub full of steaming water, she thought, maybe I’ve been missing something.

  Hannah stepped out of her dingy clothes and into the bath. The water was nearly scalding, and all joking aside, she literally couldn’t remember the last time she took a hot bath in a real tub. She slid her body down into the water and let the bubbles tickle her nose before she let her entire head slide beneath the water. The heat stung for a moment and then the simple pleasure of warm water soothed her tired body.

  Apparently, the Heights was going to be the oasis she needed in the midst of the desert life she’d been existing in. All she was missing was a glass of the mystics’ elixir, though she wasn’t sure if it was their custom to partake before the sun was fully up.

  She laid in the tub for an eternity and didn’t even consider getting out until the water started to go tepid. But you can only escape from life for so long before getting bored.

  It was time to get back to her training.

  She stood and let the water drip from her skin. The cool air in the room sent shivers down her skin, and she reached for a towel. But there was nothing. Nor was there a robe. “Ah, shit,” she said, still smiling from the soothing bath. Being careful not to slip, she stepped out onto the cold stone floor and looked around the bathroom. No towels or robes or anything.

  Even her old clothes were gone.

  Thinking she might have left them by the bed, she walked out of the bathroom. But instead of her clothes, she found the mystic, Hadley, standing right in front of her.

  “What the hell, you perv?” Hannah stepped back in shock and tried to cover all of her most private parts with her arms.

  Hadley stared at her as if Hannah were the only thing in all of Irth. His eyes were completely clouded over in a white haze. “Good morning, Hannah. Just so you know, while there isn’t a strict dress code here at the temple, we do recommend not running around naked like a drowned rabbit.” A smile cut across his face.

  “Screw you. Where the hell are my clothes?”

  “You need my help to get dressed? Ezekiel told us you were a powerful magic user.”

  Hannah’s face burned, more from anger than embarrassment. She looked over at Sal, who was still sleeping. Strange that he would hiss at that little girl, and yet let Hadley come in without so much as a peep. Turning back to the mystic, she said, “I haven’t learned your mental shit yet, douche nugget. Now, give me a towel or something before I wipe that twisted smile off your damn peeping face.”

  Hadley crossed his arms, but his smile never wavered. “Tisk, tisk. Idle threats will do you no good in the Heights, my dear.”

  Hannah dropped her hands, no longer concerned with modesty. Instead, she turned her palms toward the ceiling, drawing two small fireballs from the etheric. “Trust me; there’s nothing idle about me. I don’t make threats, only promises.”

  Hadley nodded, his smile widening. “Good. You are a magician. And now that you have magic on the brain, let’s get to work. Physical magic is a powerful ally, but don’t let it be your crutch. You won’t always be able to blast shit and walk away with a smile on your face.”

  “It’s worked for me so far. Want me to prove it?”

  Hadley laughed and shook his head. “Is violence all that you know? So crude.”

  “Me? You’re the one sneaking peeks at naked strangers.”

  Ignoring her, Hadley said, “Try this.” He closed his eyes and spoke a few words in a strange tongue. His simple white cloak turned to a suit of leather armor.

  Hannah let the fireballs extinguish. She would have more than enough time for retribution once she was dressed. She focused inward and tried to mimic the words of the mystic. Nothing happened.

  “The hell?” she yelled when she looked down at her still bare skin.

  “Don’t just copy me,” Hadley said. “Make it your own.”

  She closed her eyes and tried again, pushing any thought of the man looking
at her naked body out of her thoughts. A short phrase sprung to her mind, and she let it out—it was similar to the mystics, but not quite the same. Her eyes opened, flashing red, and she looked down to find herself covered by a dark brown robe. She ran her hands over it, the fabric coarse to the touch. Even though she knew it was fake, simply a product of mental manipulation, the magic was so good that she had even convinced herself that she could feel it.

  “Yes!” she shouted. “Take that, you jerk.” But when she looked up, Hadley was gone. She looked around, ready for some other trick, but the room was empty. That’s when she noticed the chair had remained in place, locking the door. Hannah quickly moved to it and threw it aside. Before exiting, she yelled back at Sal, “What good is having a dragon for a pet if they won’t even protect me from peeping toms?” The lizard opened his eyes, cocked his head to the side as if she were acting like a lunatic, then went back to sleep.

  Deciding to deal with her useless dragon later, she left her room to look for her perverted host.

  She had some anger that needed a target.

  ****

  The second jump landed Ezekiel on the edge between a forest and an open field. He leaned on his staff as he took in the landscape. It would do for a camp that night—not that he had much decision in the matter. The place he was heading, or at least thought he was heading, was too far. Too far to make in only a jump or two. Already two days away from the Heights, he thought that perhaps this would be his last place to camp. He didn’t like being away from Hannah for long, although he trusted she couldn’t get into too much trouble with the mystics.

  Gods, he hoped not. She could be surprising in all of the best, and the worst, ways.

  Closing his eyes, he focused on his surroundings. As far as his mental magic could tell him, there were no humans in the area. Although the art of the mystics wasn’t his strongest, he could still connect with humans over significant distances. He then held his staff high and spoke with nature. The nearby wildlife all seemed like friendlies, save a black bear wandering a hundred yards off. Ezekiel connected to the bear and suggested it keep its distance. With that, he leaned his staff against a giant white pine, surrounded by other smaller ones, and readied the area for camp.

  Sweeping his hand back and forth in front of him, he gathered a pile of dead branches as if he were brandishing an invisible rake.

  The dry pine would serve him well. The branches would give off little smoke to draw attention, and the smell was a delight. Not to mention, they were easy to light—not that lighting things on fire was ever an issue for Ezekiel.

  With a twist of his hand, he made a small fireball which he dropped into the pile of sticks, instantly setting the pile ablaze. He dragged a few larger branches over by hand—because it still felt right to do some of the physical labor in camping—and then cut each one to size using his magic.

  His stomach growled, and he would need food soon enough, but first, he wanted to sit and enjoy the campfire. Reaching into his leather bag, he pulled out the wineskin given to him by Hadley. Uncorking it, he tilted the vessel and drank in the mystics’ elixir.

  With the sun setting to the west, the fire crackling, and the mystics drink warming his belly, Ezekiel wondered why he didn’t camp more often—just for the hell of it. He was sure it was because camping had always been connected to utility for him and his family, and oftentimes to terror.

  Camping was a way of life when Ezekiel was a child. He had been born into the Age of Madness, a time when chaos reigned throughout Irth. By luck, or chance, or providence, both of his parents survived the early days.

  But the cities of the old world were falling fast to the maddening disease that had spread throughout Irth. At first, the humans gathered into cities, believing it would be the best defense to be among other healthy people to help ward off the zombies as they turned from normal to ravenous. But those days, the cities contained their own dangers.

  One of which was a hate for all things paranormal.

  The alien technology that spawned the Age of Madness also gave Ezekiel, and the ones that came after him, access to magic. But those living during that dark time had no way to fathom the power running through their own blood. And when Ezekiel started manifesting his paranormal attributes, Plimstown, the little community he was born in, freaked out.

  Red eyes tended to frighten most people after all. His parents had no choice but to flee—it was either that, or let their young child die at the hands of the paranoid people around them.

  The trek had been fierce and long. A few friends and family left with them, willing to risk their lives to protect the young Ezekiel—many of them proving their love in blood. None of them knew exactly where they were going, but every day they were stumbling toward a mythical place that they hoped and prayed would be true.

  Ezekiel’s parents were hunting for Archangelesk.

  Many nights were spent by the mother, father, and infant sleeping in the woods, or hiding out in abandoned houses in the countryside. It was a quest of its own, and one that they all knew perfectly well might end in naught. But as they followed the legend and met both friend and foe along the way, they finally found the city that they had heard about for most of their lives.

  Out in the far reaches of Siberia, they settled into a community they thought was a myth, with creatures that they were sure were things of fairy tale.

  Ezekiel was raised amongst weres and other creatures that most during the Age of Madness didn’t believe existed. His world was one that never questioned these creatures, and he grew among them as friends.

  But the most fantastic of all was Lilith—the Oracle.

  It took a long time for Ezekiel to understand the Oracle, and if he was honest with himself, he still didn’t get her. She would dance in his mind throughout the days of play, and, once he was nearing his preteen years, she started to teach him magic—and about the Matriarch and Patriarch.

  Leaning back against the trees, he let the mystical buzz wash over his body and pretended he was there, sitting by the fire, with his father and mother once again.

  ****

  Hannah sprinted down the winding staircase and past a few rooms filled with meditating mystics. They were all sitting in weird poses or chanting strange phrases, but she paid them little mind. Finally, she turned a corner and found Hadley standing by a giant fountain in a room surrounded by glass. The ranges of the Heights were visible, illuminated in reds and yellows by the rising of the sun.

  She ignored the view and stormed toward him.

  “Impressive,” he said. “You figured it out faster than I—”

  Before he could finish his words, Hannah landed an open-handed slap on the side of his face. The snap of skin on skin echoed around the room. “How dare you teleport into my room when I’m naked? Ezekiel told me you were good people, but you’re a sick freak.”

  A red mark spread on his face, but his smile remained. “I’m a mystic, Hannah. Teleportation is a gift of physical magic. I don’t know how to do it.”

  “But you were there, then gone, and my room was locked. I saw you there.”

  He laughed. “That was only an apparition—a casting of my mind. You only thought I was there. Sure, we could interact, talk; you could have even reached out and touched me, if my work in your mind was good enough. Just like you can feel that cloak on your skin right now. But that is all. You didn’t really see me, and I didn’t really see you.”

  “You mean you couldn’t see my...” Hannah left her question hanging in the air.

 

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