The Twelve Stones

by RJ Johnson

  She watched helplessly in her dream as a few of the English began to gather around her brother, taunting him and taking the food forcefully from his arms. He protested, begging for mercy, telling them the food was for his sister, and not him.

  The English only laughed and wrenched the bag out of his hands. Siobhan saw her brother’s face turn red in rage as he attacked the six soldiers, knocking more than a few on their ass. His victory was short lived, however, as a cavalry soldier approached from behind, and used the butt of his sword to knock Seamus out.

  She screamed so loud that she woke herself up.

  It was then she noticed the fire had gone out. Seamus still hadn’t returned. The sun had set long ago, and the cave was becoming quite cold. Unfortunately, that wasn’t her biggest problem. While she had been sleeping, the tide had begun to come in, cutting the entrance to the cave off with a deep pool of freezing water. Siobhan wasn’t sure how long it would take, but she was certain that the cave would soon be filled with sea water, drowning her. She whimpered, scooting back as far as she could, as the water began to slowly rush in.

  The tide crept closer and closer to her, the water growing deeper and deeper. The last bit of coals in the fire went out with a hiss, leaving her in near-total darkness.

  Siobhan sobbed and cried out for Seamus. She crouched down, wondering what it’d be like to die. Would things just turn off? Would she be in Heaven with her family? She hoped so.

  Opening her eyes, she was surprised to see that the cave was no longer completely dark. A faint light had emerged from a large crack at the top of the cave. It wasn’t much — in fact, even the petite eleven year old would have trouble fitting through — but a weak light emanated from the other side of the wall, which meant she might yet still live. Siobhan stared at the light in wonder, wiped her tears away, and began scrambling towards the opposite side of the cave.

  The water was filling the cave now, and it was nearly four feet deep. Siobhan plunged into the cold sea water, her breath leaving her instantly. She cried out as her body numbed. Ignoring the pain, Siobhan trudged through the thick seawater and made it to the other side of the cave. Holding in her stomach deep, she began wiggling her tiny body through the crack in the wall. Another large wave crashed at the entrance, and the water rushed in, nearly drowning her.

  The wave retreated, and she gasped for air. Caught in between the two rooms, Siobhan knew she didn’t have much time.

  Siobhan prayed quickly and pushed her body through the small crack, her clothing tearing on the sharp rocks and scraping her delicate flesh. She ignored the blood seeping through her clothing as she struggled to fit between the jagged rocks. After a bit of effort, and nearly drowning as the water poured over her head, she made it. She was safe.

  The crack led into another, much larger cave. Siobhan looked for the light, which had rescued her from the near drowning.

  She watched the water crash through the slim opening and drain towards the bottom of the room she now found herself in, disappearing through some cracks in the floor. Looking for the light that had beckoned her through, she saw the source of it from around a corner, still faint. And, if she wasn’t mistaken, wasn’t that music?

  She held tight to the slimy cave walls as she made her way towards more solid footing and the rear of the cave. There was no mistaking it as she drew nearer; that was music, the strings and beats echoing happily through her cave. The music filled her soul, and soon, she forgot the chill of the sea water and began running towards the light.

  Rounding a corner, she found the most amazing party she had ever seen. Her whole family, friends from the village, and more were having a rousing good time. It was the sort of celebration they saved for a marriage or the annual fall harvest.

  She walked closer to the dancing people, who seemed to take no notice of her. She grasped at people’s arms, but everyone only ignored her and continued dancing and carousing loudly.

  She began to talk to everyone, asking for help, looking at their faces, but none of them looked at her. She may as well have been invisible for all the good it did.

  Finally giving up, she sat, in a daze, wondering if she was dead.

  “You aren’t dead, you know,” a voice said.

  Siobhan jumped. The voice belonged to a kindly looking older man who held a cane.

  “You can see me?” Siobhan asked, her voice quivering.

  “I can.” He smiled and waved behind him. “You must be starving. You should eat something.”

  Looking around, she was surprised to see a buffet table filled with every imaginable delight in the world appear before her. Her eyes, wide as saucers, took in the vast feast, wasting no time as she jumped towards it and began gorging herself. Everything tasted incredible. The meat was so tender it fell off the bone, the biscuits were light and fluffy, and the milk was so cold and creamy, it instantly soothed her dry and scratchy throat. The old man chuckled and removed his frameless glasses, polishing them with a corner of his shirt.

  “Take it easy, young one. There’s plenty for you, and it’s not going anywhere.”

  Siobhan paused and offered the drumstick to the older man. He laughed again and shook his head no. Walking around the table, he sat opposite her, smiling.

  “You’re quite the survivor,” he commented. “I wasn’t sure if you could make it through the crack in the cave.”

  “You saw that?” Siobhan asked, her eyebrow rising quizzically. “I was alone.”

  The Old Man smiled. “I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve.”

  “Like what?” Siobhan asked.

  “Well!” the Old Man said with great relish. “Have you ever looked up at the stars at night and wish you could visit them?”

  Siobhan nodded.

  “I’ve been there!” he said proudly.

  “You have not!” she protested.

  “Oh, I have, and I can do lots of other things.”

  “Like what?” Siobhan challenged.

  The Old Man waved around the room. “Why, all this, for instance. None of it is real.”

  “They look real! It tastes real!” Siobhan replied through a mouthful of butter cream.

  “Looking real and being real aren’t the same. In fact…” he clapped his hands, and suddenly the party disappeared, and it was just the two of them sitting in a large and lavish banquet hall.

  Siobhan screamed and dropped the food she was eating. “You’re the Devil!” she screamed, crossing herself as she fell away from the table, looking in fear at her new surroundings.

  The Old Man chuckled and shook his head. “No, no, I’m not the Devil, young lady.”

  Siobhan glanced around again nervously. “Are you God?”

  The Old Man smiled once again and indicated she should sit down.

  “I'm not God, but I am one of the good guys.”

  Siobhan paused, hesitating before she returned to the table.

  “Then what are you?”

  The Old Man withdrew a pipe from his pocket and lit it by conjuring a small flame from his pointer finger. He puffed a few times, staring at the small girl, as if figuring out exactly what to say.

  “I’m something special, just like you,” he began softly. “Just like every person on this planet is something special.”

  He turned and snapped his fingers. The wall behind him changed from a garishly decorated castle to a solid blank wall. He rose from his chair and began waving his arms, using only his fingers to paint a picture on the wall, until he had a set of concentric circles with a large sphere in the middle. Off to the side, he painted twelve dots in the vague shape of a man.

  The Old Man pointed at the sphere in the middle of the circle. “This is your sun, rising in the east, setting in the west.” He pointed to the third concentric circle on the wall, “This is the path your planet takes around your sun, and has for several billion…” he paused as he realized his audience, “well, for a very, very long time.”

  Siobhan pointed to the twelve dots off to the side o
f the picture. “What are those?”

  “They, my dear, are stars that appear in the winter sky. They call these pictures where I come from ‘constellations.’ Do you recognize this one?” The Old Man smiled at his young pupil as she tried to think of the answer.

  “It looks like The Hunter,” Siobhan replied, her voice sounding uncertain.

  “You know your stars,” the Old Man proudly replied.

  “My brother is a sailor, and when he's home, he teaches me things about the sky, how he navigates the seas using only the stars. He says if you know all their names and stories, they’ll never let you down or steer you wrong,” Siobhan said, her voice losing strength as she thought about the awful dream she had woken up from.

  “He’s quite right, you know.” The man smiled and offered his hand to the little girl, beckoning her closer to the picture on the wall.

  “Hold my hand,” the Old Man whispered. Siobhan hesitated at first, staring at his ancient, wrinkled hand, unsure of what the man wanted from her.

  “It’s all right,” the Old Man said softly, “you’ll be safe with me.”

  She extended her hand, and he grasped it firmly and stepped through the wall, dragging Siobhan with him.

  Suddenly, she was floating. And then there were stars. Everywhere.

  The stars filled her vision with beauty. The Old Man was there next to her, floating, with an enormous grin on his face as he watched her take in the majesty of the universe.

  It was almost too much for a simple Irish girl who’d never been farther than a few miles away from the village she was born in. She looked around and felt every emotion possible. Love of her family and brother, hatred of the English who had killed them all, compassion for the lost children in the world, all of it filled her with an overwhelming urge to sob.

  The Old Man drew nearer to her and pointed to a star. The star shimmered and grew in size — at least that’s what Siobhan thought was happening at first, but she soon realized that they were moving, flying towards the distant star incredibly fast. Siobhan watched as the stars around her turned into long lines, streaking by with astounding colors and patterns. As the star grew closer, the Old Man and Siobhan slowed their approach.

  The star was massive, and as they approached, Siobhan could see that there was something wrong. She pointed and said so to the Old Man.

  “Siobhan, this star is why I’ve brought you here today. Do you understand what destiny is?”

  “You mean like when God has a plan for you?” she asked, hesitant.

  “Yes. And there is a plan for you, and this is only your first step on that journey. You are here to help some of my friends save the world. Would you like to do that?” the Old Man asked.

  “Save the world from what?” Siobhan asked, not understanding.

  “Watch.” He extended his arm, and the star began to shake, growing in size, and then collapsing suddenly, growing again, and collapsing further in still. She could tell something incredible was about to happen.

  The star shook and rumbled, and suddenly there was a light like nothing else Siobhan had seen before. It was incredibly bright, washing out everything else around her so that there was nothing but pure energy.

  Then the explosion started.

  It looked almost as if the star was blowing an enormous bubble out of its top at first. It grew larger and larger until Siobhan thought it couldn’t get any bigger. It bubbled furiously until finally exploding, destroying the planets that sat in its orbit. A vast and powerful beam of energy shot up out of the top of the star’s pole and extended out far into space.

  The Old Man waved, motioning Siobhan to follow him. As she did, she noticed they were now racing alongside the powerful energy beam released by the giant star. Faster and faster, they moved through the universe, until ahead, she could see another tiny star growing bigger. Around that star were eight planets, the third closest resembling a tiny blue marble.

  The Old Man and Siobhan raced to the planet, until the Old Man stopped them and they watched energy beam crash into the planet’s atmosphere.

  The reaction was instantaneous. Huge clouds of reddish brown smoke began to cover the world, erasing the beautiful blue marble, churning it into a muddy brown mess. They watched as the planet slowly died in front of them, the songs and music she had heard from the planet fading away.

  Siobhan found herself crying, as they watched the delicate and beautiful sphere be destroyed in a matter of moments.

  The Old Man looked at her tears and softly said, “That’s enough of that.” He clapped his hands, and suddenly, they found themselves back in the lavish banquet hall.

  Siobhan, still crying, screamed at the Old Man. “Why did you show me that? What could I possibly do?”

  The Old Man waited as she cried herself out before answering her question.

  “There are times in life when you are called upon to do a great service.”

  “Why me?” She stammered, “I’m nothing…”

  The Old Man shook his head. “That’s the whole problem with people. It's so easy to convince yourselves you can't do anything.”

  “I’m not old enough!” she cried.

  “You will be by the time this happens,” the Old Man replied evenly. He opened his coat and withdrew a small circular stone, with eleven different stones embedded on the top. Withdrawing a purple stone, he gazed at it with some regret before addressing the little girl in front of him.

  “You are the second human to ever receive a Stone. And you will need this someday to help save the planet, but not for a very long time.”

  “How long?” she asked. Her curiosity was beginning to override her emotional state.

  “Four, maybe five hundred years,” he replied offhandedly. “But not to worry; you'll be around long enough to help. So long as you stick close to this stone, you will live longer and experience more of what life has to offer than any human being has. Do you understand?”

  She stared at the purple stone, long and thin, with a slight curve, resembling the claw from some fierce animal.

  “This stone will give you powers unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. You can use them as you see fit over the next four hundred years, but do try your best to stay out of the way of history. Keep to yourself, and enjoy the life this will provide you.”

  The Old Man extended a crooked finger and beckoned the child closer to him. She approached him timidly, wondering if she could trust the Old Man and his story.

  “What does it do?” she asked quietly.

  The Old Man smiled. “Whatever you wish it to, but once you’ve chosen its power, you cannot change it, and so whatever you decide it is, that’s what it will be. Use this choice wisely.”

  “Like a wish.” She stated matter-of-factly.

  “Exactly like a wish,” he replied, nodding. “Take the stone, dear Siobhan, and enjoy life as fully as you possibly can.”

  “If it's a wish, can I use it to bring my brother back?” she asked quietly.

  The Old Man's face fell as he shook his head. “It doesn't work that way, unfortunately. What I can tell you is: you'll never want for company ever again after this.”

  Siobhan swallowed, extended her hand, and took the stone from the Old Man.

  The second she did, the banquet hall and the Old Man disappeared from sight. Suddenly, she was alone in the damp, dark cave once again.

  She moved back towards the front of the cave and the crack that led towards fresh air once again. Siobhan didn’t know how long she had been away, but somehow, she knew it was much longer than the few minutes it had taken to chat with the Old Man.

  Making her way back up to the crack in the cave wall, she slid back through the opening, and found herself in the outer chamber once again. Her brother had still not returned. Feeling emboldened after her brush with death and the mysterious Old Man, she decided to go after her brother and hopefully find out what happened to him.

  Wading through the dark pool of sea water, she exited the cave and fou
nd herself out in the cool Irish nighttime air.

  Walking back towards the village and English encampment they had passed earlier in the day, Siobhan crested a hill. From there, she could see a large campfire down in the valley. There was a large commotion near the fire, as several men were being pushed headfirst toward the flames, their hands restrained by English soldiers.

  She moved closer to the camp, and when finally close enough, was shocked to see that her brother was one of the men tied up and tortured. Seamus’ screams and pleas for mercy only attracted more ridicule and laughter from the soldiers, and one pushed Seamus’ head further into the fire pit, removing it only a few seconds later.

  Siobhan felt the bile at the back of her throat. She leaned back against the rock she was hiding behind and took out the mysterious stone the stranger had given her. Staring at it, she prayed to it, asking for strength and fury to destroy all the Englishmen who were torturing her brother and had killed her family.

  For some reason, the stories her brother use to tell her before bedtime kept coming to mind. After Seamus would return from a long trip, Siobhan would beg him to hear the scary tales about frightening creatures like the “Kraken,” a sea creature of incredible power, or the enormous fire-breathing dragons that used to torture ancient England. Those creatures were nearly invulnerable, as the stories would go, and every time, Siobhan would pretend to be scared, only to laugh uproariously with her brother when he would tickle her at the scariest part of the tale.

  As she prayed, she kept her eyes closed for so long, she almost didn’t see the stone begin to flash. The purple light extended out from the stone and covered her tiny eleven-year-old body. Tough flaky green scales grew on her arms and legs, then spread even quicker.

  Her arms extended into vast claws, her nose a long snout, which felt hot to the touch. She gave a little scream, and the scales began to retreat until Siobhan realized what the stone was doing.

  It was turning her into a dragon.

  Once she realized what was happening, she relaxed, and the change spread quickly.

  It had been a tough day for Seamus. He had left his sister with the intention of returning only a few hours later with provisions for their travel. Even though he tried to keep his head down and nose clean, those English bastards outside the pub wouldn’t leave him alone and had intentionally tripped him. He put up a good fight, that much was certain; five soldiers down, all unlikely to ever fight for King or country again.