The memories of his mother's distance never crept into mind. He always shut her out. In thought and reality. She hadn't even met Corinth, her only grandchild, until two days ago. She'd heard of him, but was never graced with a formal visit. Not even when he was an infant. Sena. Hendrix possessed similar ideas to Sebastian about mixed relationships. Julia, being La Envidian, was a problem to Hendrix. She hid that truth to most, considering her job forced her to interact with people from every World and walk of life. No less, her opinions made it impossible for her and Julia to see eye-to-eye. Even when Julia attended Aurora Boreal, alongside Criston, she never carried much affection for her boyfriend's mother and teacher.
A while before Corinth was born, Criston cut Hendrix out of his life. He didn’t agree with his mother’s irrational thinking anymore than Julia did. The last they saw of one another was at the funeral of Criston's father. Sena. Hendrix and he had already divorced before his passing. Criston and she barely spoke to one another during the ceremony.
All those memories flooded both their minds like tsunami waves. It was a crushing realization that the two of them essentially hated one another. They stood between two oaks, and just stared past one another into their opposing views of the darkening sky.
"We have many other matters to attend to," Sena. Hendrix stated formally.
"Yeah, we do." Cris scratched his head, and looked down at the stone path he and his mother stood on. He felt like a kid again, who just got caught doing something very-very naughty. "Maybe we should go inside for a cup of tea or something, and talk it out." He was trying to be rational and considerate of her incorrigible demeanor. She appeared unfazed by all the sad mistakes they both made in the past. She seemed ready to move passed it, but Cris wasn't as heartless as his mother had raised him to be. His father, as mad as he may have been toward the end, made sure of that when he and Evan were younger. Cris knew Conrad wasn't the best of teachers for that sort of thing. Still, he respected the fact that his father tried to teach him at the very least.
"No, I think the other matters are much more urgent." She was back in full throttle. No longer did sensitivity bleed through the tone and the phrasing of her statements. "All that must be done concerning our future, and your debt to this 'ominous figure,' as you put it back in the tower, can be dealt with right here and now."
It seemed Sena. Hendrix had no intention of forgiving her son for keeping her grandchild away from her just yet. Likewise, Criston would never truly want his mother to be a part of Corinth's life. Had it not been for this dire need that came about, he’d never want them to meet. She'd tear his fragile heart to little pieces with her contempt for mixed breeds. He knew how awkward his son felt about being and looking so different from most. His eyes were beautiful, but they made the, often times, timid little boy stand out more than he wanted to.
"So, what is it all about?" Cris asked as Sena. Hendrix peered across the way over to Corinth and The Well Read Walker once more.
Walker allowed Corinth to play fetch with, Oliveto, that green furred mangy mutt of his. Corinth seemed at ease. That's all Sena. Hendrix ever wanted, was to see the smiling face of the young darling. But she also realized how big a lesson she learned from this time away from the Gambit family. A family she used to have a place in, before she divorced, and changed back to her maiden name.
She led Cris over to a nearby bench, and they sat down to discuss the prospects of the coming days. What they meant, and what must be done about them.
"I must say," Sena. Hendrix began, "it’s not often that I get a chance to sit out here and take in all the scenery." She looked around to absorb the final moments of the twilight. Dusk had settled in. Now the silver light stripes running up and down all the marble pillars, strategically placed throughout the Olympus Grounds, started to spring to life, illuminating every pathway. The walkways, trills, gazebos, everything was now lit by artificial light. The silver pixie dust sprinkled on all the grass and shrubbery began flickering with the echo of crickets and other small creatures under the night sky. "It all is ... quite beautiful."
She wanted to linger in limbo, but her thoughts drifted back to reality. She remembered why she sat her son down beside her on the marble bench. She had to inform him of disaster's occurring abroad. And not abroad as in one of the other seven Worlds. Abroad meant ... the one place that the Puente del Cielo could not take a human. She was thinking of Eterna. She was thinking of the afterlife.
There are dark things happening in the afterlife. Eterna was overrun by five souls of the Great Eight. Their bodies are long gone from the planet, and from the Worlds they created while amongst the living, but their souls merely passed on to Eterna. Ordinarily, a peaceful place, but these five have broken the Status Quo—somehow. Even I, the Nexus, can’t piece it all together yet.
This is where Criston comes into the picture. Losing his hand, being no accident, she could use his sleuthing past at Squadron as a tool. Better yet, a weapon against these five souls and the immense power they're amassing across the gateway, the entrance to Eterna.
"Eterna," is all she had to mutter.
Cris' eyes went wide and his head started to spin. "Wait, that's real?"
"As real as you or I, buddy." Sena. Hendrix seemed to be relaxing as the night breeze gently caressed her tired, but studious brown face.
To Criston, an afterlife is just a mythical thought. No one truly knows if it exists until… well, until they're dead! Then they'll see for themselves the peace of mind that they've achieved. It’s a bright place for most, but some shine brighter in accordance with the choices they made during their life. Forgiving and understanding type people usually yield the sweetest results in Eterna. It’s supposed to last for eternity, but somehow these five have altered the flow of nature.
"The Status Quo was supposed to be unbreakable, and yet here we are." She stared deeply into her son's eyes hoping to see some hint of passion and willfulness. If he doesn't agree to help, things will not play out very well for the future of the Worlds. And just like that, she saw it. A light came on in his mind. For the first time Sena. Hendrix felt that her son had over exceeded her expectations.
"Julia's Novus Ordo Seclorum creation spell. The Erratum spell that got me here. And not to mention, this Nexus thing." Criston listed all the significant things to occur since Corinth was recovered at the factory. Things that just so happened to manifest through himself and his two closes family members. It somewhat shocked Sena. Hendrix that he even knew the term; Nexus. She hoped he also remembered his lessons from school, because he would soon embark on a journey that would test his knowledge of things thought to be mythology.
"Yes, these things aren't mistakes," she concurred.
"So… me, Julia and Corinth are at the center of this."
"In a manner of speaking…” she knew herself how broad the issues would grow in time, but she tried to refrain from elaborating on the mind clogging details,“that’s precisely it."
"But things like the El Muerte Vivo curse, and Sebastian's oppressive laws in Draconia. There are so many pieces to this puzzle that there's no clear picture yet," he said, placing his good hand over his mouth and rubbing. He tried processing the layered complexity all at once. Not a good idea, as it was more than he could possibly handle in one sitting.
"Yes, that is true," Hendrix admitted, "but we CAN do this, and we WILL do this! We just need to collect more information on what's occurring beyond the gateway of Eterna. How they've broken the Status Quo? Where this power is coming from? And most of all, how they intend to use it on the Worlds?"
They were operating on the same level for a change. Cris' mind was working just as quickly as hers was. She was impressed that he already knew the myths well enough to keep up. They’re taught to everyone, but very few ever listen. These were intricate details about the history of how the first World split into seven others. The Ancestry Wars, the Great Eight, the transformation of language, etc. It was all so much information to process. She had no
idea that her son took an interest in his school work, seemingly, as much as he did in athletics.
"How will this play out?" he asked intently. "There’s nothing I've ever read in books that can get me into Eterna. Nothing short of dying," his voice weakened as he looked down at his hands. Well, his one hand, and the remnant of the other. He realized he couldn't be some sleuth detective for the Worlds as a deformed man. "Actually, I don't know about this," he told the firm minded woman sitting next to him.
Sena. Hendrix noticed him staring at his hands, but she didn't seem too concerned. "My god, what has Draconia done to you." Cris looked up into Sena. Hendrix eyes with a questioning squint. "This is the Aurora Boreal school, or have you forgotten what that means? You sit where the greatest wielders of magik ever have too sat," her tone climbed with the winds and carried Criston to his feet. "Magik -has an answer for nearly every question ever posed. You just—make it up as -you go. For heaven’s sake, your wife created an entire World all by herself. I think we can get you a new hand." She acted as if there was no disease or deformity that couldn’t be healed. She was wrong, but powerful allies gave her the leverage to lend a hand, of sorts, to her son.
Criston was stunned by his mother's enthusiasm. He stood there shinning in the thought that he'd have the use of his right hand again. Then he suddenly understood why Julia left him out of her plans. Cris lived in Draconia all his life, except when at school here in Hyperborean. The Draconian way didn't call for the use of magik, and things have been suppressed even more since Sebastian took office. He couldn't believe he was going to raise his son in the same repressive atmosphere he grew up in. Daily life is controlled to a T in Draconia. Corinth and Julia were two of the most unique people living there. They would have been miserable, he thought, to spend the rest of their lives with those sorts of close minded people. A decade too late these thoughts culminated in his mind, but still a better life awaits, away from Draconia.
He found it weird that these lessons were coming from his mother. She had changed quite a bit. She used to be one of those older Draconian women who'd support most of the ideas Sebastian Wilcox based his campaign on. She had grown. Though she did always hate restrictions on magik-either way. So, once that went, so too did she. It all goes to show what a place without freedom can do to a person’s hopes, dreams and confidence. A moment ago, he believed he could be of no help, because of his accident. But little does Cris know, that sometimes bad things happen, in order to open up the opportunity for something great to occur.
Sena. Hendrix stood up beside him. "Put out your lame hand," she requested with a dignified tone. Cris complied by lifting his right arm and pulling up the knotted sleeve he'd tied around it. Revealing the burn scars where his wrist began, some traveling up his forearm. They didn't bother him though, he just wanted to be able to grasp something again. Take hold of it. "Now, before I go on, you must promise one thing."
"Anything!" he said affirmatively.
"You must never lose sight of your self-worth." Criston looked perplexed by her words. They seemed so out of scope. "You don't need this hand nearly as much as you may want it. Without it, you are still the same boy that I raised with respect and absolute confidence. You’ve proven yourself often, and against great odds. Some will try to take that away in the coming days, but you mustn't allow it. Not even I can dismantle what you’ve built for yourself. I only say the things I've said, to challenge you. There are many who will challenge you, but to beat you down. I do it to build you up, and always have."
Cris wondered if she had called Julia a 'La Envidian heifer,' in order to build up their marriage. But he chose not to question her during her big speech.
She pulled out her wand. She was an old school girl who always chose to keep it classic. A wand isn’t nearly as power as a llave, but she personally possessed the power of a thousand wielders her age. The spinning of the llave is what generated more power for spells. They replaced wands quickly, but a select few still keep the wand shops in business. Most older people prefer them because they take less of a toll on you physically. It takes a lot less physical energy to use a wand. At the sacrifice of the extra power llaves can generate.
She whipped that thing around like no other. The sky changed colors just above them as she swayed the wind from side to side with the wooden hand-carved tool. A purplish-blue color took hold at the tip of her wand, and that's when Corinth and Walker started to take notice. They began walking over to the scene. Sena. Hendrix wiped her wand far back above her head and began to chant three times in a row...
"DONA REFORGE FATA! DONA REFORGE FATA! DONA REFORGE FATA!"
Then in a spectacular show of mastery, she slammed the wand down over Criston's lame hand. The purple and blue lights caught fire on the tip of his knobbed hand, but he didn't flinch. It didn't burn one bit anyway, but it looked fantastic. Out of the spectacle of lights, a hand shaped figure started to take root.
Corinth and Walker watched on from a small distance. Walker placed his arm over Corinth's shoulders, and Cory looked up at him. They knew what was happening between Sena. Hendrix and his dad. Walker gave Corinth a big heads up before they came over. They smiled widely and turned back to watch the final stretch of the momentous event.
Colors in the sky flashed and raced about. They all coalesced into one solid looking orb of light. Then it slowly descended toward Criston's purplish-blue new hand. The orb stopped just short of merging with the other magnificent colors embossing Cris' hand.
"Now fate is in your hand, son." Sena. Hendrix smiled slightly, but never lost her consolidated mannerism.
"What does that mean?" Criston asked as he gazed down at all the lights. They shined back on his brown face and lit up his baby blue eyes, like a sparkling diamond reflecting the sun’s light.
"You are now, the Forger."
"What am I forging?" he asked reluctantly.
Her solemn response. "Our fates." Criston looked to his mother in stunned silence. He knew that she didn't exactly tell him the whole story. But this was much more than he expected. "Grasp it!" she willed him.
"How?" he tone sounded reluctant and even fearful.
"Take the light before you, into your hands, now!" she insisted, as if the light would runaway.
Criston looked down at the orb floating above his newly restored hand, then over to his son. He smiled at him and Corinth smiled back. He was glad to see Cory had made a friend in Walker.
"You look settled in," he gently shouted to his son from the shadow of the immensely bright light before him. Corinth just smiled widely. He noticed that Sena. Hendrix wanted this to be over with, now. He didn’t want to be on her bad side before school even began.
Cris turned back to the light and brutally crushed it in between his palm and fingers. The light sporadically exploded outward! Cris and Corinth ducked for cover, while Sena. Hendrix and Walker just stood there in the brilliance of it all. The shards of glass that burst out from Criston's hand didn't cut anyone or even interact with anything in their path. They passed through everything without leaving a mark to remember. But what did stay there afterwards… was certainly a sight to behold.
As Cris looked around and noticed that Walker and Sena. Hendrix had never ducked, he felt a little silly. He was just as nerve wrecked as Corinth. He put both his hands down on the soft grass and used them to push back up, getting onto his feet. But he noticed a peculiar sight underneath his new right hand as he removed it from the ground, standing upright. There was a handprint there from pressing into the soil. It was a light of purple and blue shading. It glowed on and off like the beacon Julia had left for him on the sky bridge. It dissipated slowly, so he walked away, but couldn’t stop thinking about it. He brought his new hand up to wipe some of his hair from the sides of his ears. Just then, he noticed that his new hand was glowing too. It flashed on and off in front of his eyes. He paid it so much attention that he jumped in surprise, as Walker suddenly called out to him.
"Don't be alarmed, Criston.
The shine means it’s working." With a big smile on his face he mocked Criston's nervousness and fear of the unknown.
Criston thought, it means what's working? What does this new power really entail?
"What is this?" Corinth unexpectedly asked all the adults. He noticed what they hadn’t. He thought this new sight was even more peculiar than his -father’s glowing hand.
"What's what?” his dad questioned further.
"These lights that stained the grass and pathways. It's like all the way up the hill. You can see the lights still on the ground." Corinth pointed up the hill in the direction of this brilliant sight. The lights that burst off Criston's hand formed a rather curious marking on the ground around them. Not a huge area of the hill was covered, but substantial enough to be noticed at a distance.
"It just the mark of fate," Walker informed the group, as Sena. Hendrix nodded in confirmation. "It’s no big deal, you can read all about in the Fate Forgery. An old, old book. Long too! Only one copy ever produced. The original copy it is indeed. Hand written. Lovely penmanship. Couple of torn and spotty pages, but nonetheless a good read. It's up in the school's library. Catalog numbers 1-05-8—"
Original Souls (A World Apart #1) Page 16
