Before I reached my car, I felt a sharp tingling along my spine, the type of awareness I normally got when danger was near. I quickly glanced around to see if I could spot it out but nothing seemed amiss. I took another step towards my car. The tingling increased. I came to a complete stop and my heart began to beat a little faster. I was close enough to the car where I could glance into it without actually touching it. There appeared to be a medium sized cardboard box on the backseat, no labels or any writing on it at all. I knew that I wasn’t so tired to have missed that laying on my backseat. It was not there when I got in my car that morning, that’s for sure.
Without knowing it, I was walking backwards away from my car while still keeping the box in my line of sight. Something (maybe it was the Universe yelling at me to duck, to run with all my might) told me to move, to run with all urgency away from the car and for me to do it now! My years of training and trusting my instincts caused me to kick it in high gear and so I dashed back the way I had come. Before I made a few steps I heard a great dry whooshing sound and I was thrown forward onto my stomach with arms outstretched. Slowly picking myself up off the ground and dusting my half singed clothes I didn’t need to look to know that my car was totaled.
“What the freak is going on...?” I was used to dodging fire balls and narrowly escaping sharp claws from any number of ugly ferocious creatures and monsters of the night but I never heard of any monsters that were capable of setting a bomb and I knew without a doubt that it was definitely an explosive that almost took me out. No, this was something entirely human and I didn’t know how I quite felt about that but I had to get to the bottom of it and fast....apparently my life depended on it.
CHAPTER 3
Two days later after endless questions and pestering inquiries from the school officials and the police, I was completely drained. Everyone, including my Aunt who almost went totally ballistic when she heard about the car bombing, was treating me like I had something to do with it.
“Rebels attract danger like a moth to a flame.” Mrs. White, the school principal, told the police while they were investigating the incident on the school campus. Amazingly, no one else was in the parking lot when the bomb went off which made things that much more complicated for me because other than myself there were no witnesses. Although I just didn’t understand what everybody thought I had to gain by blowing up my own car.
That was two days too long for me. I wasn’t allowed to go back to school. Officially, I was not suspended, but I knew that was the lie the school board circulated so not to cause panic. A heavily worded letter was mailed to my Aunt’s house that “suggested” it would be in the best interest of everyone involved, including my little traumatized self, (as if that was really the truth!) if I could remain home for the remainder of the school semester. I knew I was the scapegoat and the school didn’t want the public to think that security at the school was lax. My Aunt Carolyn, after making sure I was physically alright, was not gentle with me either.
“Don’t think that you will just be lazing around here doing nothing,” my Aunt told me in a no nonsense tone, “because this gives you the perfect time to take on more training.” My Aunt was a stickler with rules and judging by the pursed lips and the fire in her eyes I knew Aunt Carolyn was not going to make things easy at all for me.
I couldn’t blame my Aunt; she was only looking out for me like she always had. But I hated to see a worried look on the face of the only mother I had ever known. That face...Aunt Carolyn in fact looked like the splitting image of my mother. I had never met my mother, that’s true, but the old picture of her hidden in the locked trunk in the attic was all I needed to see to permanently have an engraved image of her in my mind. The lock and the trunk had magically opened up years ago and so I would sometimes sneak the picture into my room and crawl under the bed sheets with a flashlight and stare at the image of my mother for hours. I never cried while tracing with a finger the outline of a stranger looking back at me. Except for the way her hair was pulled back into a ponytail and resting on her right shoulder (the same way I wore my hair most of the time) she didn’t look a thing like me. The few people who even mentioned her name, Marilyn, always said that I looked like my mother, the same half smile, same eyes. I didn’t see it and in a way I was glad because if we had resembled one another then that would mean we were actually connected in some way...and I didn’t know if I wanted that. I really didn’t know how I felt about a strange face from a faded photo.
“Besides,” I would always say to myself, “Auntie Carolyn has always taken good care of me so I don’t need another mother.”
But just like the woman in the picture, Aunt Carolyn’s hair was almost always pulled back in a ponytail. She was a tall, fit woman who was slender and a couple of inches heavier than being too skinny. She really was a beautiful lady with those almond brown eyes that held a certain softness in them but could turn as hard as flint when she was in one of her famous rages. They didn’t show it now but I knew the love was still there. After all, my Aunt was all that I had. She was always hard on me, pushing me to be better than the best.
My Aunt owned a small lotion and exotic oils shop downtown in our small city of Monroe, Louisiana. It was the only one of its kind in the area and the clientele was not just made up of locals. Due mainly to the efforts of my tech knowledge, my Aunt’s shop was doing great business online and the foot traffic in town was not too shabby either. Of course it helped that Aunt Carolyn was a Remnant as well; she was a Master Healer. Her oils and lotions could mend and soothe ailments as simple as arthritic pain or as serious as diabetes and set the client on a true path of healing and an actual cure. Remnant Healing Arts had been practiced for centuries but only a female Remnant could execute the healing spells and work with the Il’ lanta, which was the creative force of the Art or what humans called magic. No one knew why this was so.
But my Aunt’s shop, although it was a helpful source of income, was only a front to confuse the public. Behind her shop through a connecting door that was kept locked at all times during store hours was a vast warehouse that was the home and training grounds of the local Remnants. If one was to go behind my Aunt’s shop on the outside they would only see a small alley with a large dumpster facing the back door of the shop. The only way to enter the Remnant warehouse was through the shop entrance on the inside. At any given time throughout the day a random customer would come in and drift towards the back of the store and simply disappear. Magical wards were set up so only a Remnant could recognize and pass through the unseen portal and mere humans were turned away by a simple aversion spell.
Later that evening and after my Aunt had calmed down we both headed over to the shop. Aunt Carolyn had some inventory to do and I wanted to check in some new oils that had arrived earlier that day. I was never a big fan of inventory but I had an excuse to get out of it today, having been given permission by my Aunt to forget about the new oils for the day and to go ahead and get some training in.
I made my way over to the back of the store and crossed over through the portal into the warehouse. Each time I entered the warehouse was always like it was the first time. It was like walking into an enormous airplane hangar. There was bustling activity wherever you looked from the line of young Remnants to the right being instructed in the skill of Martial Arts (or the Remnant version and style) to the more seasoned Remnants along the far left who were sharpening and oiling various knives and long daggers. Every now and then I could see a red glow coming from the hands of the Remnants with the knives. They were using Battle Magic and infusing their weapons with attack and counter attack spells. Only the warriors were taught how to use Battle Magic, or what Remnants called Il’lasha, because only a toned and conditioned body could hold the fiery red power of it and control its use. Both male and female Remnants could become warriors. Battle Magic was not restrictive like Healing Magic.
In the Remnant society females had a choice about what magical vocation they wanted to follow unl
ess they were chosen like my Aunt by Il’lanta to become Healers. However, female Remnants had to choose wisely about whether or not they wanted to become mothers. Mothers were sacred to the Remnants and they were highly respected because during childbirth a female Remnant loses her powers or rather she passes them on to her child. If the mother outlived the child the powers were returned to her. Mothers could no longer serve as warriors in the field. They could become teachers of Remnant Lore and Healers and even trainers of weaponry and fighting skills but no covert missions or fieldwork was allowed. They were then and forevermore considered vessels of life; they were just too precious to lose.
“Have you come to lose to me again?” I heard a deep voice behind me. I turned and faced David Blade. He was a year older than me, joked around more than he should, a young expert in Battle Magic and my best friend. His freshly cut head, faded on the sides was sweating and his caramel glazed skin was softly glowing with hues of red and green indicating to me that he had just finished running through some warrior drills. He casually stood before me with a long ragged edged dagger swinging from his waist. He stared at me with those dreamily hazel and intense eyes that I adored so much.
“Your selective amnesia bit is really getting tired, David,” I told him, “because I recall you losing to me.”
I squinted my eyes menacingly while playfully swinging at him. He quickly side stepped and gave me a mock bow.
“Truly, my lady, you wound me.”
“You know darn well nothing can wound you.”
“Come on,” he replied with a huge smile on his face, “do you want to spar a little bit?” He led me down a long hallway and into a gym like room. All along the walls, both left and right, were racks and racks of weapons of every kind imaginable. There were plastic mats scattered around on the floor. David and I weren’t the only sparring partners in the room. I could see other Remnants thrusting and parrying their way over the gym. I took a deep breath while walking over to a rack and choosing a weapon. This room was one of the few places that truly felt like home to me. In here I could zone everything out and fight away anything that tried to weigh me down.
“Are you just gonna stand there and make love to your weapon or are you gonna fight?” I heard David say. I saw him swinging a bow staff in a series of complicated moves.
“Oh, you’re going to wish you hadn’t said that.” I closed my eyes and reached into my center and softly caressed the magic within me. It was resting like a sleeping cat but began to uncurl and awaken. I opened my eyes and didn’t need to look to see the tell tale reddish glow of Battle Magic flowing over my skin. With a shout I ran towards my best friend with weapon raised and worked off the stress of the past few days. For the next few hours I actually forgot about the Deceivers, Wilomena, the car bomb and even my mother. Training was always like that and I realized now why it was so necessary.
CHAPTER 4
Deceivers and other creatures of the night were not the only things that Remnants had to defend against. Unfortunately, quite a few of our own had defected for whatever reasons and become renegade. Surprisingly, a large number of these renegades were female. One in particular had risen among the ranks and was now leader. She was fierce in the field, sexy and deadly. All under her command called her Lady Dan which was short for Lady Danger. Her temper was quick, the fire was hot in her blood and she had murder in her eyes. The target of her viciousness was not the foul hellions of the night although she along with the other renegades still fought them and sent them back to the various parts of hell from whence they had come. That was the prime mission and purpose of every Remnant, renegade or not.
No. She had true hatred in her heart for one single person....and that one person alone would have to simply die for what they did to her....what they took from her. Even as she sat in the dark warehouse near the river that served as the renegade’s headquarters, Lady Dan plotted sweet revenge. She stretched forth one arm and stared at it intensely, hoping and fiercely craving to see a glow, just a tiniest bit of light, of magic once again. Even within her where once there was a cauldron of wonderful rushing light and power there was now only a windswept cave of echoing nothingness. In the past she cried at the loss of her greatness but now all she could do was plot and hunger for what once was hers.
“Excuse me, Lady Dan,” said one of her soldiers on duty, interrupting her musings with a knock on the door before swinging it open slightly and sticking his head in the room.
“But the Strike Team has returned and would like to give you their report.”
“Well, let them come in, Minister...” Lady Dan replied. She hoped for the sake of the Strike Team that they brought back a favorable report. But then again, Lady Dan knew that it was not going to be great news because she was still empty within and that meant her target was still breathing. Suddenly jumping up from the stool she was sitting on, Lady Dan began to pace back and forth, the fire of anger flushing her chocolate skin. She knew that the little brat must have survived the car bomb. Truly she didn’t want her to die on the spot anyway. Oh, no! She meant only to bruise or to maim...Yes! She wanted the little thief to suffer first before giving up what belonged to her and her alone....my power, my power, my sweet beautiful power!
CHAPTER 5
I needed some food and I needed it now! Workouts always made my metabolism race to super speeds which caused me to crave food unlike other female teens my age. They ran from food but my super charged body needed the carbs.
After our drilling session, David and I decided to walk over to a pizzeria about a block away from my Aunt’s shop. Stan’s Pizza was actually one of our favorite spots and we absolutely loved the boisterous atmosphere. Teenagers were in and out of the place after school each day playing the old school arcade games, enjoying the free wi-fi or just hanging out. It made me almost feel like a normal teenager...almost. Because of our extensive training we couldn’t come often but when we got a chance it was a special treat. It was fun trying to blend in with normal folk and just act like a regular human for a change.
“Mary get a table by the window before this place gets crowded,” David told me while walking towards the checkout counter. Half turning around, he shouted over the noise in the restaurant, “You want the usual, right?” I didn’t know why he even asked because he didn’t wait for a reply.
I found a small table near the front of the store by the long glass window. I casually watched the noisy and laughing teenagers walking into the shop. I wasn’t a big people person. As Remnants we had to keep a lot of secrets. Remnants were taught from birth that the work they did was not something that just anybody could handle. Ordinary humans for the most part didn’t want to give up material comforts and sometimes be on the move all the time like the typical Remnant. Rigorous training or even the very sight of a monster was not for the faint of heart. But every now and then I did wonder what it would be like to be one of those laughing girls who hung out with friends and clowned around just for the heck of it. It wasn’t easy being a Remnant but being ordinary looked like a breeze.
When the pizza shop’s door swung open about a minute later, I felt a sharp coldness go up my spine. I knew exactly what that meant and I glanced up towards the three guys slinking in. All of them were dressed completely in black with long trench coats. They looked like extra cast members in a low budget science fiction movie. The one in the middle was a little shorter than the other two with a huge nose and an extra shiny bald head. I could feel waves of foulness and just general badness coming from him. The other two were no better in their appearance as I spotted something about them that I was dreading since first feeling the cold sharpness going up my spine. The eyes of the two thugs were faintly glowing red. I hoped it was a trick of the fluorescent lights but I knew I wouldn’t be that lucky. All three of the goons were demons. Demons hated all creatures but they hated Remnants most of all. Remnants were the only creatures on the planet who could send their foul spirits back to hell and demons never made it an easy fight.
>
I didn’t have time to see if David had taken notice yet or not. My concern was the other people in the shop; I didn’t want anybody getting hurt.
I quickly reached for my power within and began to mutter a little spell I never thought I would have the chance to use. It was a noise amplifying spell. All I had to do was think of a particular sound I wanted to broadcast and the spell would take care of the rest.
Slowly getting up from the table I faced the three thugs who had already zeroed in on me and I let a little magic fly as the last word of the spell left my mouth. Three loud bangs of what sounded like a shotgun firing could be heard ricocheting around the room. Startled teenagers froze for a full minute before the screams and shouts began.
“Clever girl...” the bald short thug sneered while wagging a finger at me. Unfortunately, he didn’t get another word out because a short jagged edged dagger was sticking out of his throat. The two thugs saw their leader was about to go down and made a dodge towards me. I flipped the table next to me over on its side and sent it sliding across the floor with a kick to stop their deadly lunge at me. It didn’t faze them as they jumped over it and pulled out knives of their own.
The dagger that was presently impaling their leader had a cracked red ruby on the hilt that was pulsing with light. I looked around and saw David standing a couple of inches behind the thug with an outstretched hand that was raging with the fire of Battle Magic. I could feel David controlling it and I knew that the thug didn’t have long to live because the dagger David was using was called a Katrapa - a very special weapon that channeled the power of a Remnant. It had only one purpose - to kill demons. David was an expert with it and had even instructed me in its use.
Thinking I was distracted, the thug that was nearest me made a move to grab my arm but I easily sidestepped him with a half turn, dropping down in a crouch and punching out with a magically charged uppercut. He didn’t go down at first so I continued with a series of punches and one super roundhouse kick. He only grunted, grabbing hold of my arms but I managed to slip away. Fighting off his advances was becoming increasingly hard. The demon thug had long since dropped his knife during the fight and was throwing fire ball after fire ball at me. I had no problems dodging those but it was slowly backing me up into a corner. I couldn’t see how David was faring, all I heard were grunts and the sound of dishes breaking. I did see glass and pieces of wood flying everywhere so I guessed David was taking care of business. The sharp pain ripping down my right leg startled me so much that I narrowly missed a fireball whizzing close by my head. Holding on to my bleeding leg I turned to find the other thug grasping a bloody knife and sneering at me with a mouth full of yellowed teeth. For the love of...I totally forgot about him...I began to feel faint and slowly dropped to my knees.
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