by Beth Hodgson
Em grabbed the necklace she was wearing, showing him a ring. The gemstone was the biggest damn jewel he had ever seen. In the light, it sparkled a brilliant green, just like her eyes.
“This was to be my engagement ring,” she told him.
“Holy shit,” Kyle said, his jaw still dropped in amazement of the size of the jewel. “That guy is damned serious. You know, you really shouldn’t be wearing that in the lower levels. Shit, I would be shitting bricks if you just left that in my apartment.”
Em laughed, shrugging. “What does it matter? I’m not getting married anyway.”
Kyle wondered who this other guy was. Instantly, a twang of jealousy shot through him, envious some unknown man who had the resources to give her such a ring.
Trying to take his mind off the suitor, Kyle decided to humor himself. “What house did you say you were from again?” he said innocently. Eventually, he would wear her down and find out.
Em threw a handful of sand toward his legs enthusiastically. “You just won’t give up!” she said, giggling.
Surprised at the unexpected shower of sand, Kyle exhaled, then dropped the cigarette in the sand, rubbing it out. “Hey? What was that?” he asked, feigning offense.
Em threw sand at him again, this time hitting his chest, laughing.
“Seriously, what the fuck?” But he laughed with her, grabbing some sand. Before he could throw it at her, she took off, running barefoot down the beach toward the waterfront.
“Hey!” He ran after her, chasing her while she giggled. She stopped ten feet in front of him, grabbing more sand. She was about to hurl it at him, flashing a big smile on her face.
Kyle ran into the waves shin deep. A cold shock went up through his legs, but he didn’t care. The icy waters of the ocean were always so damn cold, no matter what time of year it was. She missed him entirely with her sand throw, sending the handful crashing into the waves. He bent over, splashing the freezing water at her. “What are you waiting for?”
Shaking her head and laughing, she ran out of splashing distance. “You’re crazy!”
“You’re just figuring this out now?” he said, splashing more salt water toward her. Em giggled, getting out of the way, but this time she didn’t retreat. Her lips were starting to tremble, and her teeth chattered, as she was not wearing a jacket.
Kyle got out of the water, his boots sopping wet. He took off his jacket, then threw it over her shoulders.
“Thanks,” she replied, giving him a bright smile. Her eyes looked so beautiful when she smiled.
Dammit! Not this again…
His head felt like it was heading toward a clusterfuck. It was too damn soon to care about anyone. Especially someone as beautiful and innocent as her.
***
“Oh, please, stop there!” Em yelled from behind Kyle. One of her hands was waving and pointing to the left. Not knowing what Em was pointing at, Kyle found a spot, pulling over the motorcycle on the side of the street.
“What? Where did you want to go?” Kyle glanced around at the glowing neon signs, puzzled .
“That place. I want to go there,” Em announced, her finger pointing to a tattoo and piercing shop.
Kyle eyed her. “I never pegged you wanting a tramp stamp.”
“What’s that?”
“Forget it. You want a tattoo?”
Em shook her head. “Not at all. I want to pierce my ears,” Em said, hopping off his bike. “Let’s go.”
“Fine. Just let me park my bike in the alley.” Kyle pulled into alley while Em went inside the shop. Kyle lit a cigarette, trying to take his mind off the numbness of his feet from his cold, wet boots. He just wanted to get to his apartment and put on a pair of dry socks. But fuck, how could he say no to her?
Walking into the shop, Kyle was met with bright-orange walls and yellow neon lights reflecting off the metal counter. Em was already talking to the woman, pointing to the high ridge of her ear. The woman, who had pink cropped hair and a black septum nose ring clinging to her nostrils, nodded at Em’s request, then her eyes shifted to Kyle. Her dark eyes smiled deviously, as if she knew the mess he was in for even being with Em. Kyle looked away, trying to not pay too much attention to Em, and instead turned to check out the drawing samples of tattoos displayed on the walls. He then took out his flask, downing most of it.
After browsing the art, Kyle peeked into one of the mirrors and saw Em flinch when the woman punctured the needle in the ridge of her ear. She did it three times, slipping a small curved spike earring in each hole. The woman finished, then turned to Kyle, giving him a smile.
“Cute, huh?” she said, winking at him.
Kyle walked over to Em, seeing her beautiful smile appear on her face as he approached. Quickly moving his eyes to the piercing, he nodded in approval.
“You like it?” Em asked innocently. She turned to look into the hand mirror the woman had set in her lap.
“Doesn’t matter if I like it. Do you like it?” Kyle said indifferently, drinking the last of his liquor. He did like it. Very much. It was rather cute on her. But what was he to her? His head was starting to spin just thinking about Em.
In just a matter of a few days, Em had turned his whole life upside down. His thoughts were entirely consumed by her presence, and his life had shifted onto a whole new course, one that he had never expected in his lifetime. Much like the lines that inked his arm.
Fuck it.
Kyle pulled out a wad of money, tossing it over the counter to where the woman was. He plopped himself down in one of the orange vinyl chairs, pointing to his tattoo. “I need some work done. That should be enough to cover her piercings and my work, right?”
The woman counted the bills, then raised her eyebrow. “Depends. This isn’t enough for a big job.”
Pointing to the heavy black lines on his bicep, he stated, “Just add a line to this. Make it in a different direction than the last one. Completely opposite, in fact.”
“Sure.”
Em looked at him curiously. Kyle could tell she was wondering what he was doing, but she didn’t ask. Before the woman began the work, Kyle pulled out another bill, waving it toward Em to take.
“Do you mind getting a bottle for me at the convenience shop next door? I need more liquor.”
“Okay.” She nodded, taking the money. Em flashed him a smile, causing him to stare longer than he should. “Be right back,” she said, walking out of the shop.
Kyle’s glance lingered in her direction. Catching himself in the act, he glanced away promptly.
“How long you been together?” the woman asked as she began to draw the line on his bicep.
God, if only. “We aren’t,” Kyle said casually, lighting a cigarette.
“Your loss,” she muttered under her breath, then began inking his arm. After she started hammering away with the needle, she put a hand on her hip. “What does this mean, anyway?”
“Nothing of importance.”
The woman smirked, as if she understood his cryptic response.
“Don’t be such an asshole,” she chided. Her statement was directed at his behavior toward Em, not his response to her question. “She’s too cute for all that bullshit.”
“Whatever.”
He needed a drink before he thought any further.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
YELLOW
With each breath he drew from the pure, crisp air, Auron’s tension melted away, though his troubled thoughts still lingered. It was hard to clear all the daily troubles from his mind. The plague continued to ravage his sector. Ikaria with her wicked ways, was trying to influence the court with technology. There was no heir to the throne, and the Empress was without child. Ikaria still had a claim to the throne if anything happened to Ayera and Cyrus, heaven forbid. There were so many troubles, it made Auron sick to think of them all.
Over the last week, two more gifted had lost their magic. Of the two, one of them lost their life: Lord Kohren. It seemed there was no stopping this c
urse. All Auron could do was pray in earnest that the God of Light would intervene.
Cast your cares unto the God of Light, Auron. Have faith! But even as high priest, Auron felt doubt deep within, not believing in the holy words himself.
Auron turned his thoughts to the cool air that streamed in gently from the entrance of the temple. It was as if the air itself was cleansing him from within, purifying the troubles that had been vexing him. The incense braziers burned with a light, fragrant smell, a smell that Auron imagined was like one of the earth’s rare floral fields below. Auron had secretly hoped that he would see them in his lifetime. But the older he got, the more reality set in, and his hope faded. He would probably never see them.
Staring between two of the temple’s white marble pillars, Auron gazed at the sunset directly aligned between them. This was the time to commune with the God of Light.
Auron meditated three times a day—at dawn, high sun, and sunset. The evening was when he felt the least in contact with the divine, because it was when the light was snuffed out from the world, bathing it in darkness. And now, more than ever, he was in dire need of a sign from the God of Light, because magic would soon be gone from humankind if the plague wasn’t stopped.
Perhaps the God of Light willed it, that magic be wiped off the face of the earth, but Auron did not get that sense. He felt the disappearance of magic was the doing of the Lord of Darkness. It was evident enough that the Dark Lord desired all colors of magic, as it was written in The Spectrum, and somehow this wicked being was stealing it from all the gifted. And he was consuming their lives while doing so. Above all else, Auron was convinced that Ikaria was behind it all, hoping to make a fool out of Ayera, causing the court to restore her as rightful heir. Auron had no evidence, nor any vision as corroboration, he just felt it in his soul.
The sun began to melt into the horizon, burning a bright orange before turning a deep ruby red within a rainbow sky. Auron sat quietly, looking into the intense light, asking within his mind for the God of Light to grant him insight on the magical plague. The sun had almost set when Auron’s asking turned to pleading, but the sun disappeared from the twilight sky, and nothing had come.
Auron closed his eyes as soon as the sun was gone, focusing his magic and gathering it from within his heart and mind. He could feel the burning devotion and love from inside, the same love he had the day he chose to enter the priesthood. The bright yellow light flared around his body, but he dared not open his eyes. Auron would be blinded, as anyone would be if they dared to gaze upon a gifted priest in mediation or during a vision using their gift.
The smell of the incense tickled his nose lightly, causing him to lose focus.
The scent had never bothered him before, but for some reason it kept making his mind stray from his meditations. An image of the incense smoke appeared in his mind, dulling his thoughts to a bland gray while creating a clouded barrier between him and the God of Light. The more he tried to push the thought aside, the greater it became.
Within his mind’s eye, the image of the rising gray smoke became thick as fog as it flowed around him. It gently wafted to the heavens, blocking out all that was good. As the smoke curled in all different directions, each tendril began to take the form of a certain color, until all colors were represented, and the gray was no more.
Auron floated amongst the wisps of colored smoke, amazed by their beauty. The colors separated into their own group of smoke, encircling him, flowing with power.
With sudden sharp movements, each color evaporated into a puff, turning into an intense colored fire, burning brightly. The colored ring of fires looked remarkable, like none Auron had ever seen. Each fire began to slowly turn prismatic, until he could no longer distinguish the colors.
Staring into the sparkly flames, Auron tried to recall which fire was what color, but it was no use. They were all the same. Reaching out to embrace the beauty of one of the blazes, the fire before him snuffed out immediately. He turned to the next fire, trying to touch it, and it too died in front of him. Same with the next. One by one, each fire became extinguished, until one remained, burning brightly and more intensely than the others. Auron noticed that the sky had faded, light had fled, and he was in complete darkness with the exception of the prismatic fire burning in front of him.
The fire shifted, turning black. Deep flames of pure blackness crackled with violet undertones. From within the black fire came the shadow of a beautiful naked woman. She danced within the flames, commanding the fire to be her partner, her lover. Her arms stretched to the heavens, embracing the power of the magic. Her shadowy face turned in Auron’s direction, staring right into his soul, piercing his heart with just one glance.
He knew those eyes. Eyes that had hated him for years. Eyes that belonged to none other than the sorceress herself.
Auron became instantly engulfed in the black fire, and it melted away his flesh. Ikaria’s narrowed eyes laughed at him; she knew he couldn’t stop her. Fear overwhelmed him, and his mind became muddled. He had no coherent thought.
Crying out to his god, Auron felt his yellow magic surge within his soul, asking it desperately to aid him in his time of need. To his dismay, none came. Instead, the shadowy woman continued to drink in his yellow magic, just like a thirsty desert wanderer, as if the image of Ikaria was bone dry of magic.
Auron yelled in agony as the intense flames seared his body. His charred bones jutted out as his flesh began to disappear. The fire continued to grow in size, until the sky could no longer hold the swell of magic. With a giant burst, the black fire exploded into thousands of shards, hurtling to the earth below.
Darkness washed over time and space. Auron’s body did not exist anymore; only the breath of his soul remained. The glimmer of the fragments of light died out, and all was lost.
The earth was no more.
Time was lost, the earth was gone, and magic disappeared. Auron cried out to the God of Light, but only the darkness answered.
Then there was a small gleam of color from the earth below. It glowed softly at first, a deep red. As time continued, the glow burned brilliantly with the power of red magic. The red turned white. Pure, bright white light. The white light formed into the transparent figure of a man holding Auron’s staff, his spirit searching for his other half of the spectrum—his complement.
The transparent man did not see Auron, but Auron saw him. Rage consumed his eyes, burning with the fires of hell, the same color as his crimson hair. He was going to wreak havoc on the darkness, the black void who held his complement captive. And he was furious. This man…
Ghost Man.
***
Auron hurriedly made his way through the palace, walking with a brisk step, trying not to break into a run. His eyes darted in every direction as he passed other members of the court, who were making their way back from their evening events. Some nodded at him, others bowed, but Auron had no time to acknowledge any of them.
The Emperor and Empress had to be warned. His biggest fear was that he was too late to stop Ikaria.
Auron approached the doors to the main audience hall. The guards standing watch gave him an inquisitive look, raising an eyebrow.
“High Priest Auron,” they said, bowing.
“Please summon the Emperor and the Empress. It is of the utmost importance,” he said, short of breath.
“I will see if His or Her Majesty will receive anyone this late,” said one of the guards.
Auron shoved his face near one of the guards, latching on to the man’s breastplate with his large, meaty hands, panting heavily. The sheer size and bulk of Auron intimidated the guard, and the guard’s eyes flicked to Auron’s hand. “You must get either of them now! It is vital that you do so,” Auron urged.
The guard quickly bowed and hurried off to fetch the Emperor and Empress, while the other guard gestured for Auron to enter.
Auron wandered into the empty hall, watching his golden reflection glide across the black marble floors. He shudde
red, thinking about his vision, him lost within that darkened world.
Curse that Ikaria, he thought. The vision made it apparent; Ikaria was consuming the other colors of blood. She was trying to become invincible, like the God of Light himself. But little did she realize that she would be consumed herself by a dark force, an evil magic that was granted from the Lord of Darkness. Black magic, Auron had read before. What Ikaria was doing was unspeakable. It was against the laws of nature, and of the God of Light himself.
Auron had heard about the ancients’ form of healing, how they injected blood into each other to cure sicknesses. The science of old was heresy to the God of Light, as it was apparent from the God of Light’s wrath upon the earth. That cataclysmic event had destroyed the old world, with the most advanced sector of that time being decimated into a toxic wasteland. In fact, most of the old world became toxic, and hardly anyone could survive on the ground except a few mining areas that were deemed safe. That was the power of the God of Light’s judgment. But now, it seemed that the Lord of Darkness was determined to undermine the God of Light once again. If mankind couldn’t be tempted by the Lord of Darkness’s deceitful technology, they would fall into despair through the lustful power of magic. Or should Auron say, Ikaria’s lust for magic. Dark magic. The whole world was about to be destroyed because of her dark heart.
The doors opened, and footsteps followed. The Empress appeared quickly, dressed in a simple white robe, her long black hair in a split ponytail. The Empress bowed to Auron.
