

The Magician's Home

By R. Corona

THE MAGICIAN'S HOME

Copyright © 2015 by R. Corona

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher  
except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. For permission requests, contact the publisher. Distributed in the United States of America.

First Printing, 2015

For those who have ever lent their voices to tell me a story.

Part I

The House

The coldness of the Dark Hall took my bones prisoner, numbing the blood within me. Immobilized, the darkness took advantage of me. Its profound embrace seized my movements, thoughts and emotions. In shivers, my eyes began adapting to the lack of lighting.

"Close your eyes," Dez' commanding tone hid the nervousness which ate away his spirit. The imbalance of energy was palpable. Even in the midst of obscurity, I could feel their bodies surrounding me; they were all here. Flows of energy bounced up and down, leaping around me; teasing my memories. "Now." He cleared his throat, "Tell us what you remember." His voice, ravished by fear, begged for my memories to reveal themselves. "Without your memories, our voyage to Fexorrous will be unsuccessful." Dez pleaded again, "The members and I need you to remember."

Solely in the presence of my eyes, a light source expanded itself, like a broken raindrop. Its power outlined my body and created a bubble of images. "It's starting Dez. I can see."

***

The darkness of the night surrounded me as I rushed into the Plains. The noise of their voices had ceased, but even then, I ran. A friendly breeze pushed me farther away from the House but I could never get far enough. It followed me, and its presence reminded me that my life was nothing but an illusion. Certainty had consumed my mind. It was the only thing left of me: the certainty that I knew less than nothing. The moonless night grew denser, allowing for a simple idea to visit the aching emptiness of my mind. Here...it had all started here at the Plains, where he fed my doubts in the form of dreams.
Chapter One

The Plains had become a familiar path by now. The stickiness of the hot air was like a friend I could, almost always, count on to show up in the most miserable moments of my life. It hadn't been different that day. The warm gush of air was there to comb my auburn locks while I ran. As rough sand particles brushed against the skin of my face, a small thought in the back of my mind grew into a desire–almost a need to evaporate from the face of the universe, like the dewdrops on the grassland. Surrounded by the sun-dried grass, my body collapsed. Tears streamed from my eyes, cooling my red-hot cheeks. I wouldn't cry, not this time. I sprang up and continued to run– pretending it was possible to run away from the shame of being neglected, or from the pain harvesting inside. It was silly of me.

The anger was towards myself, because I had rejoiced in their lies; consumed by the thought of what could be. Now, what consumed me was a loathsome feeling of hate. A sensation which, sadly, didn't last long. I lacked the ability of retaining those juicy feelings of anger and hate. My legs ran faster, while past thoughts cluttered my mind.

During the last five years, living with Aunt Marcelle and Leev had been a blessing. They didn't deserve my feelings of disappointment. Unlike my parents and I, Aunt Marcelle and Leev were a true family. Naively, I believed my parents finally wanted to settle down, to find me. After five years, we were going to spend the summer together; we were going to be a family too. It would be different this time. I dreamt of seeing each other once again.

Weeks went by after receiving the news from Aunt Marcelle. Naturally, I felt ecstatic at the thought of seeing my mother and father. Not a day in the five years had gone by without missing them or wondering what had become of them. I never understood why they had left me. But in the past three months their true intentions had been exposed, along with their lies. The sporadic calls grew less frequent until they became nonexistent. In that time, Aunt Marcelle and my cousin Leev had moved to a new town called South Ranches. Aunt Marcelle had tried to contact them numerous times to inform them of our move, but our calls were not important enough to reach them. We weren't important enough. The source of my anger outburst did not come from the realization that they didn't care about me. It came from discovering that I didn't care. Not caring irritated me!

While searching for the shade of a tree, a queasy feeling overcame my body and began to drain my energy. There was only one tree close to the Plains. I stopped running and walked towards it, panting, suffocated, tired as I had never felt after a run. The exhaustion caused me to drop to my knees as soon as I stepped out of the sun's inferno. My head fell softly on the brown tree-trunk. Leisurely, my eyes closed as the summery breeze caressed the warmth of my skin. While laying next to the tree, a strange and hypnotizing sound flowed harmoniously into my ears–I didn't know it then, but his plan had just taken off:

"June, dear sweet June," whispered a disembodied, masculine voice. "Don't be afraid, just listen." My body cringed at the feeling of being watched. Searching for the source of the voice, I strained to turn my head. All of me had been paralyzed. I could not move! Then, a fixed vision emerged from the Plains; the most astounding thing ever witnessed.

Suspended above green freshness, it stood alone. The mansion naturally shimmered, as the moon itself. Glazed in an icy-white color, it reflected its own shine through the glass windows. There were entryways on different sides of the round-like structure. The doors were made of cherry wood and the handles were carved from ivory. A fresh paradise enclosed the house, gardens invaded by monarch butterflies and sea-blue flower buds.

"You have a home here, June, your personal sanctuary; seek it."

Sluggishly, my eyes opened and the illusion vanished. My dream had come to an end and so had the daylight–Oh no, Not good...I wished for wings to fly home, but nothing had ever gone my way and that day wasn't the exception. The moonlight mirrored on rain puddles along the streets, guiding my frantic steps. The feeling of going back to the place called home was horrid, not because I didn't love my aunt and cousin, but because my true home was out on the Plains. Nothing brought me more joy than its breezy, quiet hours of darkness. Amidst the dry grass, my energy balanced, expanding outwards in proximity to the celestial bodies that brightened my nights and days. Contemplating the past lights of the universe, I imagined could control them.

The opening of our house's back entrance startled me. My eyes turned at the sound my cousin's voice. "There you are! What is today's excuse?" Leev stood by the kitchen door. A yellow blanket dragged behind her feet as we came inside.

"—still awake?" Stating the obvious was sometimes helpful when arguing with Leev; tonight that wasn't the case.

Her eyes rolled down from the top of my hat to the mud on the floor carried in by my dirty sneakers. "Where were you?" The irritation in her voice grew as she spoke. "I have been worried sick about you! What's going on? This whole week you've been coming late. What am I going to tell my mother?" She focused her attention on a pot of boiling water.

"Did she find out?" My voice was dim, almost soundless. Suddenly the reason for going to the Plains had vanished. All that remained in my mind was the House of the dream.

"Luckily for you, she came home with a huge migraine and went straight to bed. What am I going to say if she does find out?" Leev's pitch became higher as she poured the bubbling water on a mug.

"Why are you making such a big deal out of this? It's not like I robbed a bank or killed someone, Leev. Would you calm down? Aunt Marcelle won't find out—well that's if you stop screaming." I searched my brain trying to find the words to ease her mind. "Look, I'm sorry. Time went by...it won't happen again. Promise."

"I'm almost twenty and I don't come home this late." Leev lowered her voice and submerged a tea bag into the mug. "But that's not the point. We're like sisters. There's nothing you should hide from me." The smell of peppermint seeped out into the room and the air became infused with its flavor. "Help me understand why you would go to that deserted place, away from everyone. — I'm always here to talk, to listen." Her narrow green eyes glistened with intrigue. "Don't tell me you didn't go because I can tell by the color on your shoes. Something's wrong. Otherwise, you wouldn't have stayed so late." Leev raised her arm and rested it on my shoulder, waiting for an explanation.

"I did go." My head dropped, heavy with embarrassment. Leev loved to listen to other people's problems and concerns, and I hated sharing them. By running, they evaporated away. It was my way of dealing with...mostly myself. She couldn't understand why the Plains were so important to me and whatever Leev couldn't understand, she disliked. "I can't help it, being between these four walls, makes me go nuts and today I just couldn't take it anymore." That wasn't a lie, but it also wasn't entirely true. Still there were questions about why or how, but for the first time ever I had fallen asleep on the Plains. Letting Leev know would have been less than necessary.

"Oh June," Leev hugged me. "Is this about your parents?"– Oh yeah, Leev was psychic. The kind that accidentally stumbled upon my hidden emotions. The fake kind. Her question brought back the feelings I had tried to leave behind on the Plains.

It took a while to answer back, "My parents?" A troubling thought visited me suddenly. It should have been the first thing on my mind, but I was predisposed to blame everything on them. The idea moved through me and chilled my skin. "Something bad happened to them. That's why they haven't been able to communicate. Leev what if, what if...?" Tears began to build up again but I managed to retain them.

"No, June. Don't do that." Leev warned. She handed me the warm mug and started preparing one for herself. "Those thoughts will eat you alive from the inside out. Besides, haven't you heard that saying; bad news travel fast, or something of the sort?" She was right. How could it surprise me anymore? They had always been careless. "None of this is your fault." She took a sip of the tea and continued, "Frankly, you should put it behind. Mom and I will always be here for you. We will never leave."

"It doesn't bother me anymore, not as much as it used to. I've become immune to them."

My comment made Leev laugh, she blinked and then hugged me. "I'll let you go. You must be tired. Think about what I said, ok? I'm more than happy to listen; you shouldn't keep anything bottled up." Her eyes almost closed with exhaustion.

"Ok, off to bed now." I set the cup of tea down and began to push her up the stairs. She sank into the bed when I left her in her room.

The touch of my bed sheets promised a profound sleep, hopefully restful–but I would never rest again, because my dreams were now his. By the middle of the night my mouth felt parched. Leaving the tenderness of my bed for a glass of water proved to be a challenging task. I waited for my eyes to adjust to the darkness, but having walked down the stairs, not a ray of light could be seen. A blackout maybe. The power came back when I was past the living room. Forgetting my initial purpose to quench my thirst, I returned to the bottom of the stairs. The walls were tinted with different colors; it was as if a rainbow had blown up inside the house. The arrangement of the furniture had changed, the TV was gone, and Aunt Marcelle's Australian face masks were also gone.

The walls started to change colors. The colors blended to form the shade of dried grass, and a clear blue sky. I could see, I could clearly see, the Plains; where his voice had visited me earlier. The picture of the Plains was then, abruptly, ruptured by whiteness. It later condensed into its perfect form; the white mansion, the House. Alternating changes in the sceneries of the walls amused me until I became unaware of myself.

"There's more June, more than you'd ever imagine." With the same tone as before, the voice called deep into my being. A calling, which fascinated my ears and scared my soul. The origin of the voice absorbed my attention. Could it be that it was real or was it merely in my head, only for my mind to hear? A sudden realization of self, electrified my senses. I was taken into a lucidly, unconscious state where I couldn't be anything but what I could ever be.

How had I gotten inside the House? The voice faded into the colorful background, but the thought of it was now, unexplainably, terrifying. The fear was fed while thinking of the ways in which it called my name. It wasn't real, none of it was and the uncertainty before me was the root of the fear. I fell into a struggle to uncover reality from all the illusion around me. Could one be awakened even if this wasn't a dream? Still inside the House, I searched for a way out. Out of the House, out of the dream. There was only one door in that universe of fuzziness; I only hoped it led outside. The blurriness was practically blinding my eyesight. The door seemed to be so far away. I stepped on the next tile in an effort to pursue it. Oddly, the door appeared right in front of me. It had been one step away. Pulling the handle did not work, neither did banging on the wood. Soundless noises came from my mouth. They cursed the door and what was hiding behind it. Then, soft knocks broke through the silent breakdown, but they weren't mine.

The sound of a familiar voice made me feel at ease, it made me want to find it. Her voice was sweet and comforting; precious. Sun rays peeked through the thin curtains, filling the room with warmth. "I'm sorry to wake you." She walked inside, pulling me out with her presence. My dreams had always been vivid, but this was more than a dream, it was a hallucination: an invite into a world of adventure—maybe it was a warning. But the House was beautiful, where was it and why was I dreaming about it? And, and the Voice...

"Just a strange dream." I sighed.

"Welcome back to reality, June." Aunt Marcelle walked forwards bearing a cheery smile. "I didn't want to leave for work without stopping by."

"Yes, I heard about your headache. You have been having many headaches recently. A stop by the doctor's office would do you well."

"Oh, June," She sat at the foot of my bed and continued to speak, "I'm fine. I've just been thinking too much."

"Thinking, huh? Aunt Marcelle, what can possibly trouble you?" She was the most peaceful person I knew. Not much bothered her and so, I planned on never disrupting her peace because it was precious. Hopefully, Leev hadn't opened her big mouth. Rising from my bed, I noticed a change in her expression.

Her eyebrows lowered and she whispered softly, "Remembering, that's all. The summer always comes bursting with memories of my childhood." Aunt Marcelle stared out the window. Their childhood was barely spoken about since our family preferred not to dwell on the past. Aunt Marcelle and my mother were cousins; her mother and my grandfather were brother and sister. Both my grandparents had passed away before I met them, but according to Aunt Marcelle's mother, they were living in another land. One day, I would get to visit. Aunt Marcelle's mom had always treated me as her granddaughter. From an early age she encouraged me to call her Granny, just as Leev did.

"How come you never speak about your summers as a kid? Your memories must be amazingly good ones, considering those headaches." I stepped to the side and began to make the bed. "That must mean you gave Granny some headaches too," A giggle escaped me. "Come on, tell me. What did you and mom do that still makes your head spin?"

Aunt Marcelle softly chuckled, "June, you come up with such things. It's nothing, really." Her smile faded away quickly. She stood from the bed and left, insisting Leev needed help setting the table for breakfast. I had never considered the fact that Aunt Marcelle acted extraordinarily odd at times. Her moments of sorrow were never grave enough to stain her overall happiness, yet there was something in her glance which implied that she concealed a painful burden. The glance struck me from time to time; when she thought of what troubled her.

Breakfast would be ready soon. I grabbed my green, knee-length skirt, a white shirt and my top hat. My mother had told me that my grandpa had left it especially for me. Because I needed it. He was right. The hat is the most valuable thing I possess. A bright-red, velvet stripe hugs the chocolate-brown bottom. On the top, it displays a yellow-mustard and lime, square pattern. The hat completes me. After tying my sneakers, I went down for breakfast.

Aunt Marcelle sat next to Leev, listening to her argue about how much she wanted to return to our house in the city. I missed the city as well but there were greater concerns haunting my mind. Taking a seat next to them, I took the opportunity to set aside some of my worries. "Have you ever seen a white house, in this town?"

"Maybe, I guess so," Aunt Marcelle swallowed her scrambled eggs, not giving much thought to my answer. Her sleek hair fell backwards on the shoulders of a white, suit blazer.

"No, no." I tried to explain, "Like a stunning residence, like a mansion, like... a gorgeous house. The most intriguing, most spectacular house ever."

Leev and Aunt Marcelle glanced at each other, then eyed me. "Alright what's going on in that head of yours?" Aunt Marcelle asked before rising from her chair and taking one last sip from her mug.

"Nothing. Just wondering."

"Yup," Leev chuckled, "We all know what happens when June wonders."

When we finished eating breakfast, Aunt Marcelle excused herself and went to work. I began to clear the table as Leev cleaned the dishes. "You know, June, I'm actually excited about my new job interview today. I cannot wait to start working. The boredom is making me go nuts!" Leev yelled from the kitchen. "Can you believe we've lasted three months here? It's my mother's hometown and everything, but this place is just creepy. Besides, for a hometown, no one even remembers her as a child!"

"Admit it, Leev. You just hate it here."

"No." She scoffed, "Is it that obvious?—actually..." she bit the inside of her cheek trying to keep the rest of the words in. "The move hasn't been all that bad. To tell the truth, the city confined me. It made me feel stuck. My life needed a change—although," Leev confessed, "it's taken longer than expected. Something tells me our lives will never be the same before the summer is over." She stared at me and, unable to stop herself, laughter broke through. "This town is creepy. Not to mention it's so close to those Plains. Seriously, it takes guts to walk by there at night, to walk anywhere. Even during the day, I get a strange feeling..." she set the dishes aside and reflected, "like that of being stalked." Leev's voice lowered into a serious tone. "The other day when I was coming from that grocery shop by the Park, something flashed across the sky. It burned for a few seconds, then disappeared. After looking at it, my body felt strange, fragile."

"A flash in the sky? C'mon Leev."

"You think I'm kidding? That's only because you spend most of the day running and exploring that place, which by the way, is made up of nothing but dried grass. If you would have taken the town tour, like I did when we first moved in, you would agree. Ever since we started living here, my body just doesn't feel the same. This place is sucking up my energy." Frustrated, she rolled her eyes and returned to the previous topic. "Let me tell you, the tour was very informative...though scary."

"Oh please, Leev. Do you think you can fool me? We all know well the reason why you took that stupid tour and then didn't shut up about it for a week."

"And, what is that?" She narrowed her eyes.

"That boy you keep talking about...." I smirked.

"No. Nah, uh." She tried to keep a serious face.

"Yeah, what was his name? Oh of course, Jeff. Yes, Jeff B." I teased, "Mr. B."

"Whatever June. You can take this as a joke but I'm serious. If you don't believe me, that's fine.—I have to go get ready for my job interview. Wish me luck." Leev had applied to the same company multiple times since we moved into South Ranches Town and had had no luck. SR Corporation was her obsession and everyone else's. SR Corp. was the only thing that had this town afloat. It made sure the town had different entertainment resources, like parks, and clean streets, fresh painted buildings and safe schools. Oh and Jeff, he worked there also.

While Leev was getting ready for her interview, I grabbed my keys to go for a walk around town to see if I could spot any of the creepiness described by Leev. I was in a desperate search of adventure. There had to be something I hadn't seen before, new people I hadn't spoken to, places I hadn't seen, or maybe something as beautiful as that House in my dream.

The adventurous feeling diminished soon when a more powerful feeling took over...a craving. The more I thought about it the more I wanted it....Carambola. In such close proximity to Ranches' Fruit-Mart, I could taste the fresh, watery, starfruit juice in my mouth. I pulled the fogged crystal door and stepped inside. There was a lady standing behind the counter, all the way in the back of the store. She wore a green shirt and had her hair tied up in a messy bun.

"If you need help just let me know, not that I may help you much or anything, so think twice before asking!" The clerk rolled her eyes at two boys just as they walked in the store. I made my way to the Carambola basket, grabbed two large, green ones and went to the register. "Is that all?" She waited for a response while smacking around a piece of gum in her mouth.

I nodded and turned to put my change away. Taped beneath the glass countertop there was a paper that read: Assistance needed at Ranches Park. If interested contact us. Thank you.

"I'm sorry, do you by any chance know anything about this advertisement?" I dared to ask.

"Probably as much as you do little girl," The clerk responded, putting her elbows on the counter. "The paper is as clear as water; they need help over at the Park, near the Magician's Home."

"Whose home?"

"Never heard of it?" The woman sneered, "Have you been living under a rock?"

"Close." Living here for the past three months felt close to having lived in uncivilized territory for three years. Nevertheless, it could have been worse. In life there is always something worse.

"Well if it makes you feel better, no one knows what it is. I'll let you know a little secret about this town; if you don't know about something, it's best to stay away. The Park has nothing to do with the house; it's only close to it."

"Ranches Park doesn't sound too bad for a summer job." I looked at her.

"No, it's not that bad. But for some reason the Park has always been desperate for employees. Some visit, but most stay away. I say it's because of the Park's location. Head over there if you're so interested and stop holding up the line."

***

A man watered the white, rose shrubs on the side of the entrance gate. He wore a plaid red shirt and had a cap which displayed the South Ranches Park's logo. His face looked as withered as the roses he was trying to save. Contemplating the piles of dried leaves around the main office, the man sighed. "Why do I bother?" He reached for gardening scissors around his belt with the intention of mutilating the shrub. "They're already dead!"

"No," surprised at the loudness of my voice, I covered my mouth with a hand. "Don't cut them." Plants were not my expertise, but seeing the hanging flowers felt like a calling. Even as they withered, the roses belonged on the shrub.

"But they've dried." Finally noticing my presence the man turned to face me. "I cannot handle any more death." Having a sudden realization he let the scissors drop to the grass. "Oh Greatness." The man's appearance transformed with a joyous smile. "My prayers have finally been answered. Finally!—you've come for the job, right? I knew the advertisement would work. I knew it! Come with me, come." He rapidly walked me to the main office. "What's your name, dear?" The man asked and opened the office door. A black glove covered his left hand.

"June, June Corpelle." I responded.

"Perfect!" The man squealed with joy. "June, I'm Kostas. Thank you for coming. We need people like you here, June, with fresh ideas, full of youth...of energy. By we, I mostly mean me, and maybe two or three young ones like you. So fill this contact form and..." He paused, rotating his body as if he were looking for something.

"And you'll call me if I get the job?"

"Here it is." Kostas grabbed a gray large cloth bag. "You were saying...?"

"Will you call me if I get the job?" I asked.

"No, no weren't you listening? No one has applied in months, you have the job. Come at 8:00 tomorrow morning and bring that contact card filled." He smiled at me, squinting his small dark eyes. As he moved towards the light, I saw hints of gray in between the dark hairs on his head.

"But I..."

"Don't worry, June. I'll go over everything with you. At this moment, however, something important has come up." A few seconds ago Kostas had been, absentmindedly, crying over his dead flowers. How could something come up so unexpectedly? "I must be somewhere—remember, be here tomorrow and bring comfortable clothes." As we walked out of the office, Kostas gave me a puzzling look. "How old are you?"

"I'll be sixteen in a few months."

"Bring identification too." He locked the door and exited the Park.

Did I just get a job? Excitement energized my steps, racing through a path on the left side of the Park. This side of South Ranches was new to me. It was almost the complete opposite of the warm Plains. Yet, I liked it. There were many trees that offered shade to the neighborhood. The wind was a special factor; it felt as if someone was blowing directly on my face. The new ambiance diverted my senses as a massive black bird glided through the unclouded sky. Mesmerized by its artful movement, I failed to notice the change in the bird's direction. It came towards me, wishing to attack. The screeching noises startled me to the ground. With my face still planted on the soft grass, I was able to make out a field of blue flowers in the distance. The bird fluttered over them and hastily vanished behind a large–behind...impossible. There is no way. You've got to be kidding me! There it was, standing heavenly, with the shape and color of a gigantic marshmallow; The House
Chapter Two

Since that day, it became part of my life–rather, it became my life. I had taken the beautiful bait that would one day trap my soul. The House surrendered my life to him.

"Finally! I've been waiting for you?"

"What's wrong, June?" Leev dropped her bag at the door. "You look so pale, are you ok?"

"It's real." I managed to say.

"What? What is? June, please, you're scaring me." She sat down on the couch, next to me.

"The House, Leev. The white House is real. I saw it." It had been a few meters away; it was as real as I was.

"Everyone knows it's real." A sigh of relief escaped her. "The president lives there, sweetie, and he is real too." Leev never missed the opportunity to mock me and it was my duty to play along.

"All these years and I had no idea–C'mon Leev, obviously I'm not talking about that White House! I dreamt about a white house. Today, I saw it before my eyes...in this town."

"Maybe it was a coincidence." Leev quickly dismissed my worries.

"It gets worse." I warned.

Not liking the sound of my tone, she paused and focused on the conversation, "How?"

"The images of the House come together with the sound of a voice." Saying the words out loud set me free. The voice was real; clear and powerful. I knew I wasn't crazy, I couldn't be. But Leev wouldn't be as sure. "Over and over, it told me to find the House. I tried to ignore it, but it took possession of my mind—"

"—No, no, no." Leev shook her head from side to side, trying to rid herself of my words. But she knew I wasn't lying, she had her own worries about this town and its people. "June, I've never told you this but you are very insane."

"Actually, you have, and more than once."

"Then believe me when I say that what you are telling me sounds crazy. Please tell me that you do not think it is normal for demonic voices to whisper in your ear. Because by the sound of this, you seem enthralled with the idea."

"It wasn't demonic Leev!" Not demonic at all, in fact, thinking about it made me feel at peace.

"So, a non-demonic voice spoke to you and told you to find a house? Then the House magically appeared in town?"

"No, the House has always been here, I think."

"Did the voice tell why you should look for the House? Did the voice even introduce itself?" Her mocking tone bothered me. Why did she have to question everything? All my life I waited for something extraordinary to happen; something fulfilling, special, maybe even inexplicable to the human mind. The waiting never stopped. Time wouldn't be enough for my future to present itself; there was never enough time. Yet my life was being consumed by time and the vastness of it. For a long time, a strange feeling twisted and spread to the core of my mind. Something out there waited for me; it was something I was meant to do. Perhaps many others could also do, but I could excel at it. Finding that something would connect us forever in purposefulness. Discovering the elements that composed my being would enable me to understand my nature. Doing so, would allow me to understand the immensity of my potential.

These thoughts were strange thoughts, but they were mine and that made them important enough to consider. Nothing had given me a greater sense of direction and purpose as the voice had. My peace had been disturbed and that fascinated me. To silence it, meant to kill it and it had already become a part of me. The House had planted itself in the middle of my life, preventing anything from growing in its place. From now on, all else would have to grow around it, as I waited for it to bloom. How could it be ignored when it was so close; too close?

"I got a job!" The Park had slipped my mind–and Leev. I hadn't asked her about the SR Corp. interview.

A smile lit up her face as she turned to pick up her bag and took out a paper. She was hired! The news dissolved away all thoughts about the voice and the House. We waited for Aunt Marcelle to celebrate our employment. Finally Leev had done it! She would soon be working at SR Corp; her dream job. After years carrying a feeling of gloom, and months of pure boredom, we would both be occupied enough to give our minds rest.

***

During the night, I sat out in the backyard, hoping to find something unnatural, but it was just the moon and I. It was the sky's most precious jewel; big, bright, and white. The moon was like the House in my dreams; rather, the House was like the moon. A white shining stone in the middle of profound darkness, where all the other houses were only stars. The House was the moon of my dreams. It was the brightest dream, the most consistent one; making its appearance in-between cloudy, blurry thoughts. It was the only thing I could see, clearly as the moon.

The following morning, Aunt Marcelle dropped a white envelope in my room. It did not have a date or an address. Inside, there were pictures of them. I had not seen pictures of them in a long time. Their faces were beginning to deteriorate from my memory. "Leev spoke to me about how you were feeling with respect to your parents" She kissed my forehead, "I know these are only pictures, but maybe they can cheer you up."

My eyes felt damp at the sight of them. A few were of my mother as a young child but most of them recent and I was in several ones. It was refreshing to go through the pictures, almost therapeutic. An old, cropped picture of them stared back at me. I placed it inside my wallet to have something to look at later. Whether it was out of joy or sadness I let myself sob. No one would hear me, since my aunt and Leev were probably at work by this time. Work? Work! Great! Late to my first day of work.

***

Kostas was cleaning the windows of the office. He wiped the sweat off his face with his covered left hand. "Oh thank god," Kostas said as he saw me. "I thought you weren't coming."

"Forgive me. Something came up and–"

"It's alright June–Were you running? Your face is red... Are you upset? We could leave your first day for tomorrow, if there are any problems."

"Of course not, Kostas. I'll be glad to start today."

"Then, let's do this!" He laughed and signaled to follow him. "—June, about yesterday, sorry for the rush, but there was something important I needed to attend to." We sat in his office and filled in some papers. "Now let's go to your office."

"An office? Cool."

"Don't get your hopes up kiddo." We walked along the tree paths for a while, some of the dry, leaf plies had been cleared out. "Here we are," he winked. There were three metal swings, a huge rock for climbers, a slide, the usual things a playground would have, and grass.

"Oh."

"Have fun." Kostas walked away, shaking his head. There was a small hut to put my belongings in. People came by, some nodded as they saw me and others didn't even bother to look my way. When it was time for my break; I grabbed my bag and went to buy food. The rest of my break went by as I walked around the Park's lake. Then, my attention was captured by a light pull on my skirt.

"Hello lady. Do you know where the playing area is?" It was a blonde girl; she had pink cheeks and wide, brown eyes.

"I'm, in fact, going there myself. Care to join me?"

"Thank you so much lady. They changed the Park around and sometimes I get confused. The playing area used to be on the other side of the Park, you know?"

"Really? I've never noticed. By the way, you can call me June." We both walked at a normal pace enjoying the summery wind.

"My name is Antoinette, but you can call me Ette, if you like. I can't believe you never noticed where the playing area was before," said Ette as we reached the playground.

"In my defense this park is very big...My family moved here recently and I hadn't visited the Park until a few days." As hard as it was to admit, before the Voice and the House my interest in this town was nonexistent.

"Oh well. I come to the Park every day. My mom has to work during the summer, so I stay with my friend Kostas, until she comes to pick me up–We'll be great friends June,–the swings!" Ette ran inside the playground and began to play with the other kids.

The rest of my first day, was mostly boring. Meeting little Ette had been the highlight of my day. Hours later, almost at the end of my shift, Kostas found me staring into space as the kids ran around. "Having fun?" He walked behind me while I turned to face him. "Listen, June, I have a favor to ask of you." Kostas looked sad as he spoke, almost as if he wanted to say nothing at all.

"Kostas!" Ette's scream interjected into our conversation. She ran towards Kostas and hugged his leg. "Have you met my new friend, June?"

"Ette, June will be working with us this summer—"

"Really? The entire summer?" Ette interrupted.

"Yes, Ette –June," Kostas looked at me. "Would you mind walking Ette to her grandmother's house? It's just to the left of the Park. She knows the way."

"–Kostas, why am I going to grandma's house?" Ette had a puzzling look on her face as she looked up.

"Your mother called me and said that she won't be able to come today, and you know I can't drop you off so...June?" They both fixed their heads my way and waited for me to respond.

"Yes. Yes, of course." It was hard to say no to Ette's hopeful face, but also to Kostas', not only because he was my new boss but because he looked even more hopeful than she did. Kostas' hopefulness was tainted with another emotion which I could not decipher. It tainted all of him. It was deeper than hope and perhaps deeper than his own life. Kostas was a dead man, running the paradise that surrounded us.

"Good. Head out now, before it gets dark." His quick smile, like everything else about him, perplexed me. It was the first warning sign; I should have never gone.

***

"That way," Ette pointed the way. "Two houses before the Magician's." The Magician's House?

"Can I ask you something, Ette?"

"Is it about Kostas?" She walked slowly, feeling deflated and staring at the ground.

"He looked sad, is he alright? Why did he say that he couldn't drop you off?"

"Promise you won't say?" Ette covered her face from the sunrays. "He's my father...But Kostas doesn't know."

My mouth fell open, I managed to close it before looking like an idiot. "Didn't you say you were friends?" Wait. How did Ette know Kostas was her father if he didn't?

"Mom said that my dad was a caring man, like Kostas. In the future, which I think means, in a long time from now, she said I was going to meet him. He cannot visit my house because evil people follow him and Kostas wants to protect us," Ette pouted. "Every day my mother drops me off at the Park; so I can spend time with him." Ette grinned. "I can feel it in my heart, June."

"How old are you, Ette?" The way in which she carried herself, her poise and tone, gave the impression that she was a smart and mature girl. She spoke with enthusiasm and it felt like she had a gift. Ette could grasp a person's wholeness with a simple look.

"Six, and you?"

"Fifteen.—when are you going to tell him what you think?"

Confidently, she replied to my question. "I don't think, I know." Ette paused just as her glance wandered off into space. Until that moment, I had thought that Ette was kidding. But the tone of her words implied that she was convinced. How she had reached that conclusion, intrigued me—it scared me. What she said next, stung my heart. "A friend told me not to worry; he'll take care of everything."

"This friend of yours, do you trust him? Will he tell Kostas, then?" It crossed my mind that someone was feeding Ette's hopes of finding a father. I had just met her and maybe it wasn't any of my business but Kostas should have known about Ette's theory.

Ette shrugged. "It's here, June." She ran off.

"But, Ette?"

"Thanks, June." Ette knocked on the green wooden door until a lady opened the door and waved at me. When Ette entered, I continued the path home but could not dismiss her comments about Kostas. Maybe Ette had misinterpreted what her mom and her friend had said...or maybe Kostas was her dad. The illusion in her face reminded me of myself; of how I used to feel about my parents' departure. Before I could dwell on the past, or hope about my parents' well-being, a refreshing sight removed any discomfort from my mind. The House. Like no other, its presence relieved my thoughts. It wasn't its beauty that paralyzed me, it was something else; what it represented, what it held. Actually, there was no sane idea that could give me a hint as to why this, almost heavenly, structure could make me unaware of my being.

That afternoon I intended to find out what was behind its doors. Nothing was going to stop me, not even myself—my legs moved without permission. Closer and closer to the House, close enough to touch the doors. My hands rested upon the moist red wood, I was touching the House! The feeling became more exhilarating when a clicking sound awakened my sense of fear. Someone is opening the door! I had no right, what was I doing there? What do I do? Run away. Yes, run away. Good idea.

The large, red door opened halfway. A purple dress brushed the side of the threshold. Her small, blue eyes lightened at the sight of my face. A giggle made her cheeks blush as brown short curls fell on her face. "Hello there!" The sound of her high-pitched voice numbed me.

"..."

Chapter Three

"Oh my, have I startled you?" The enthusiastic tone of her voice did not ease my embarrassment. "Dear, you look so pale. Come on in and have a cup of water." Her soft, yet old, hands tapped my shoulder.

Wordless, as I was, and without resisting, my feet took me past the threshold and into an entrance hall. The lady's purple dress floated in front while I remained a zombie, enchanted by the cream colored walls, and the mirror-like floor tiles. She led me to an open room behind the Hall. There, my senses were awakened. Three large windows ran from ceiling to floor. Sunlight peeked inside; carefully entering through the glass and caressing the walls. For a second it appeared as if the House commanded the sun and its brightness. The windows beamed a steady gush of light; slowly, it floated in the empty space only to blend around me. "Have a seat; I will get some water for you," said the lady as she walked into another hall.

There were three different openings in the living room; the one from where we had entered the room, the one the lady had gone into and an obscure hall in the middle. It looked more or less like a tunnel. In the center of the room there was a squared table, adorned with carvings along the sides. Five vibrant armchairs surrounded the table. Each one had a different pattern and color. I paced around the table and glanced out the window. Oak trees to the far end of the property were visible from the room. Another garden was planted to the left of my view, it was filled with sunflowers.

A sweet-flowery, warm smell now entertained my nose. The sound of footsteps urged me to turn around. The lady had returned and stood by the side of the table, holding a silver tray of cookies and a glass of water. "Oh, but I haven't introduced myself, how rude of me," She giggled to herself. "Take a seat, dear." The woman sat down after I had done the same. "My name is Ms. Baynes, the Housekeeper." The smell of the vanilla cookies had hypnotized me.

"Here, have some." We ate, and I drank some water. "Now that you don't look so pale, tell me, what is your name, and why were you standing on the front lawn?"

"My name is June Corpelle, I feel very embarrassed about–"

"June?" She stared at me. Something made her eyes glisten, maybe the light. "How wonderful. What a joy!" Ms. Baynes cheered.

"Uhm, Ms. Baynes? What is so wonderful?"

"It's your name! What else?" The woman smiled. "You have a very summery name and summer brings me joy."

"Thank you..." From the way in which she treated me, it was certain that Ms. Baynes was a nice lady. She had opened her doors, having known nothing of me. I could have been a serial killer, one who disguised herself as a harmless teenager. Ok, so maybe I wasn't the criminal type, but, in truth, I was no less than a stalker. My obsession had escalated to a state in which all of my thoughts originated from the House. "There is something I must say. For a while now, this House has distressed my mind. There isn't a way for me to stop thinking about it. For god's sake, I even dream about it. The House's beauty, its grandeur...could it be possible for me to learn more about it, about the builder? –Ms. Baynes, this House is magical!"

"–Magical?" she interrupted my speech. A hint of pink spread on her cheeks.

"Yes, as in beautiful. It isn't like any other house in town, or in the world for that matter."

"Oh come on, June. Am I to believe that you have traveled around the world and seen every last house?"

"Ms. Baynes, it's just an expression."

"Of course dear." She giggled. "Many, like you, have come to complement the House. We are used to it. In fact we've given tours in the past, but the people are not as interested as they once were. A shame, if you ask me–"

"No you again! You always mess up everything, what's wrong with you?" A clanking noise came after, almost like pots and pans crashing against each other. Ms. Baynes' posture stiffened as she quickly glanced towards one of the halls.

"What was...?–"

"Oh no," the Housekeeper exhaled and rolled her

eyes, bothered by the interruption. "Sounds like someone needs my help. Those two are going to kill each other one of these days," she whispered and rose from the chair. "Tell you something... June, come tomorrow and I'll tell you everything you want about the man who designed and built this house. I'll even prepare a tour."

"Yeah. Yes, tomorrow's perfect!"

She walked a few steps behind me, then we heard a loud clash. "Ms. Baynes I know the way out, better check out what's happening back there."

"They have done it today, haven't they? Both will hear what I have to say. This behavior is unacceptable! My apologies. Do come back tomorrow, please." Her apologies and pleas were not necessary. At that point in my life, I would have given what wasn't mine only to take another glance inside the House.

An energizing force circled me as the front door closed. Sweat drops of fear ran down my neck. Feet pinned on the grass, hands bound next to my body. For twenty-one seconds, my life paralyzed; my world, my universe became still in front of my own eyes. When my body relaxed, there was an urge in me to go back inside the House, but I left instead.

The forceful feeling dissolved into the air, blowing away from me. So I didn't question it, because having entered the House was enough to shut my brain out of the real world.

***

Aunt Marcelle was working late, and Leev had been waiting for me on the porch. We sat together for a couple of minutes, staring at the road. Silence captured our words until she couldn't hold it any longer.

"Are you going to tell me now or later?" Leev asked, still staring.

"Tell you what?" My neck twisted to look at her. It was impossible for Leev to know, a word hadn't escaped my mouth.

"Don't you want to tell me something? There's that look in your face. The one that tells me I'm going to have to guess what's wrong?"

"Leev, there's no such look," I laughed. "But you're right. Now...I know you won't be happy about this, well... I'll tell you if you tell me about your look."

"Deal, you first" She smiled.

With a hand covering half my face, I began. Maybe her reaction wouldn't seem so big if I could only see half of it. "Remember that House, the white one? I went inside..."

"You what?" She shrieked, alarmed by the confession. "What if someone saw you, did you take anything? You could have been arrested? June!" Her words impressed me in a horrible way. What kind of person did my cousin think I was? Oh wait, it was Leev; she had a disgusting habit of thinking horribly of everyone.

"Leev are you crazy? I didn't break in! Gosh, would it kill you to think before you judge so harshly. The Housekeeper, Ms. Baynes invited me in...well sort of. The point is that I've never felt so empowered before. The House was like...home. It was beautiful; peaceful. As peaceful as in my dream. It's like a work of art, you should come and see it too; I was invited to go visit tomorrow."

"Can't tomorrow, tons of work to do. The new trainees have already been assigned to groups and we have to stay after hours to set up a meeting schedule and to inspect our location for reconstruction." Surprisingly, Leev was not thrilled by her new assignment. "Jeff was named as the task manager for our group and he—something doesn't seem right about him."

"You barely know him. Maybe that's just the way he normally behaves. Or, it could be that he is nervous to be working with you." I laughed, and gave her a slight shove. "Because you know...you know...he likes you."

"Oh stop it, June." Leev did not see the humor in my comments and changed the topic. "—About the House, if you want me to be honest; maybe it's a good thing. I mean, it's something new, and you need something new, a goal; an adventure. The House could take your mind off your parents for a while."

They had slipped my mind. What else was I to do, when my worries were not of importance? For once, I wasn't going to wait around for that call, or that letter. Enough was enough. My family was Leev and Aunt Marcelle and as much as it hurt, I had to move on. My mind had been beaten almost dead and there was nothing left to be done. If they had decided to live their life without me, then there was no reason for me to think about them or to worry. And, if truly, a tragedy had occurred and they had gone from this world, then I could not do anything either.

"Speaking about parents, June, my mom has been acting weird." Leev searched for my eyes.

"Aunt Marcelle? Don't tell me she caught the disappearing bug?"

"No, well, not exactly. She's been having strange conversations over the phone, it's mostly whispers so I can't make out what she is saying, but–"

"You're spying on her? Leev!" The surprise on my face shocked her.

"Don't look at me that way! June, she cries after she hangs up the phone every time and yesterday she went for a walk."

"What's wrong with taking a walk?"

"It was at midnight. Four hours passed before she returned. Something is not right, I can tell; she's my mother. But don't stress...I'll get to the bottom of it."

The sky continued to darken as we waited behind the shrubs until Aunt Marcelle arrived. I retreated to my bedroom while Leev insisted on staying up. A funny feeling told me this wasn't going to end well. If Aunt Marcelle was in some kind of trouble, it was best for Leev to talk to her. But who was I to give any advice on dealing with parents? The night remained quiet while dreams of the House intoxicated my memories. In the morning I went to work; the rest of the afternoon passed by quickly. After my shift was over I walked to the House for my meeting with Ms. Baynes.

***

She was sitting in the front garden; holding a metal box. "Good, you're here, sit, sit. I'm remembering old times." The box was full of pictures. "I love looking at pictures of people." She said, and then stared at an old photo. "You know, pictures tell us stories, they show us a scene and we can imagine the rest. Do you like pictures, June?"

"Yeah." My bag rested on my lap. "I carry this one with me." I removed the old cropping from my wallet and showed it to her. "They are my parents."

Ms. Baynes observed the photo carefully. "Very pretty, you have a wonderful family." She glanced at me and smiled.

"Thanks." I returned the smile.

"Oh, this one must be yours; it must have fallen in the box." She handed me an old photo, it was in black and white and torn on one side. There were two smiling little girls in the picture; one had auburn hair and the other one was blonde. One of the girls looked familiar, but at the moment it was impossible for my mind to tell why.

"No, it's not mine, Ms. Baynes." I shyly smiled and handed the photograph back.

"Sure it's yours," she insisted.

"I've never seen this picture before."

"But June, look," Ms. Baynes pointed to one of the girls. "You're in the picture; this little girl has to be you. She looks just like you. –Here, take it" Ms. Baynes held the picture in front of my eyes.

"Sorry, it isn't mine. I shouldn't take it."

"Just take it." She laughed.

I grabbed the picture because, in my mind, Ms. Baynes was a little unstable. Taking the picture would make her happy, so I did. The picture was definitely not mine, even if one of the girls did look familiar. However, the Housekeeper kept insisting until the picture had been placed inside my purse. "Now we can begin...First, you should learn about the man behind everything. We cannot start without him, the builder and artist; the one who constructed this house. There will never be such a gentleman in this world." She sighed. "He built this house all by himself."

"What do you mean 'all by himself'?"

"Let's just say that 'extra-ordinary' is a good word to describe him. His determination is something to be admired. I mean, can you believe that he spent most of the years after his youth building his dream, this dream?" Her eyes wondered around the property. "The man's energy was poured onto the House. Not a soul was allowed to help, not that anyone would...or could. This House would have never been possible without him."

"Then, was he an architect?" Something, maybe everything, about her story seemed too big for my mind to process. "Ms. Baynes, how can a man build a house all by himself –and not to mention, the magnitude and perfectness of the House?"

"You're right." She confessed. "It wasn't a task suitable for any man. Dez was not a simple man in his youth. He was a leader and a Carrier of energy, powerful energy. Before being exiled to this land, Dez ruled, what was once, a great land. By wielding his energy into the House he created a sanctuary for those persecuted by the overthrowing rule."

"Dez is a strange name. You said he had powers, like superhero powers?" I mocked.

Ms. Baynes wasn't charmed by my tone. Arching one of her eyebrows, the Housekeeper responded, "Your cohabitation with the ones of this world has tainted the spiritual understanding that should be carried within. A person's abilities are not to be made fun of. Neither are they to be questioned. —Yet, I understand you are not familiar with the abilities entrusted on those of our kind."

"Of your kind?" The amusement in my voice did not seem to please her. Not wanting to be thrown out of the House, I played along, pretending all her theories were sane. Ms. Baynes was a storyteller and I was beginning to understand why people in town evaded the House. She spoke of powers, spiritual abilities and referred to her people as being from a different kind. It was conceited to think of herself, and those whom she thought to be like her, as special. Ms. Baynes had no genuine interest in the townspeople; they were simpleminded and would not take her theories, and those of her kind, earnestly. But it was the way in which she regarded the builder of the House that took me aback. The way she boasted about his accomplishments and his supernatural abilities fascinated me.

"There will be enough time to learn." The Housekeeper paused for a second, shifting her glance to the side, "Yes, and you know what? Dez would love to meet someone who is as interested in his artistic work as you are."

"The pleasure would be mine; I would love to meet him. Does he live here too?"

"Oh June," Ms. Baynes lowered her head. "I am so sorry, but Dez isn't with us anymore." It was a disappointing discovery and, just then, the image of the House created by Ms. Baynes, collapsed. My next thought was that this House was like any other house. She had exaggerated its creation to feed my curiosity. The Housekeeper was nothing but a storyteller and wanted others to believe that there was something more to life. Something which could not be explained by words, actions or thoughts. Having been in touch with unimaginable sources of knowledge and guidance, Ms. Baynes was qualified to know what that something was. Sadly for her, not many approached the House. As a result, it was her priority to keep those brave enough, as interested as possible. "Don't look so sad, he would be thrilled to be in your company. We haven't had visitors like you in a long time. Times have been hard for the members—but you shouldn't be concerned with our troubles." A silent minute passed us by.

The quietness reminded me of Leev and her spying; she was a worrier but I had never seen her so concerned before. Maybe there was a way for me to help.

"June, there are some other people who would love to meet you. They aren't as great as Dez but they are a part of the House and I know how much you like the House. The day after tomorrow, we will be hosting a dinner party for the neighborhood. It would be lovely if you came." A dinner party? I was going to have dinner at the House! Not even those weird dreams could compare to the real thing! I...Wow.

"That would be no less than wonderful, thank you."

"We'll be expecting you, then."

I ran home. My thoughts struggled to get organized, and at the moment it seemed that none were believable. They had become one with my dreams. In the past, the notion of reality was crude and firm. Now, reality seemed like a strange concept, one that could be manipulated, almost bent in the form of one's imagination. The same could be said about my concept of imagination.

During the walk home, I convinced myself that Ms. Baynes' invitation had come in a timely manner. Leev and Aunt Marcelle could benefit from the party; they needed quality time together. I hadn't seen Aunt Marcelle happy in a long time and the party was the perfect excuse to get her mind off whatever was troubling her.

That afternoon, my aunt watered her plants as I watched behind the screen door. Different ways of inviting her to the dinner party crossed my mind, but when she came inside I blurted, "Big news!" My smile stretched, "You know the neighbors that live next to Ranches Park? They live in a big white house?"

"Near Ranches Park? Maybe." Aunt Marcelle fixed her eyes on me as she tried to figure out the reason behind my questioning.

"Well, they've invited us to a dinner." I made an effort to maintain the smile, seeing that a dreadful expression was falling upon her face.

"That's odd," She closed the door.

"It isn't odd, why would it be odd?"

"June, we don't interact with them often, they are, practically, strangers. Maybe they want something from us, it'd be best to stay away from them for the moment." Aunt Marcelle bit the side of her mouth, "Now is not the best time. Besides, I don't trust their intentions. Why didn't they come to me first, and what reasons could they have to offer us an invitation? We don't know them." She paced back and forth unable to understand why our neighbors wanted to get to know us better. "They're not supposed to—not yet. No, no why would they do this now?" Aunt Marcelle mumbled to herself.

"Because they are friendly and nice? —alright, alright, I became friends with the lady that lives in the House and she invited me and my family." I explained. "There's going to be more people, the whole neighborhood is invited. It was sweet of her to invite us...come on...please?"

"June," She sighed. "This is not a good idea. I don't know. Somehow, you always get your way. –Fine, let's talk to Leev about the party." After dinner the three of us stayed up gossiping about Ms. Baynes' dinner party. It was a beautiful sight, the three of us at ease. The dinner party would mark a new beginning for us, one that would allow us to move forward. Change came knocking, it prepped the air for its fleeting, yet, riveting existence.

***

The next morning, Aunt Marcelle dropped me off at work. Kostas waited by the entrance and waved at my aunt as she drove away. Together we walked inside in a rush. He startled me by informing me that the Park would close early in the afternoon and would remain closed until further notice. The Park had never been closed before. My concerns amounted when he said that there was an occasion in need of him. An occasion? Something more important than the Park? The time would never come when something was of more importance to him than the Park. The time had come, seeing that it comes for everything and for us all. When I tried to inquire about the occasion, he appeared evasive and called it a 'private meeting.'

My new friend, little Ette, came by a few hours after I arrived and accompanied me through my, otherwise, dull and lonesome shift. She talked about having to go to a party on Friday as well. It seemed that everyone was going to be busy by the end of the week, even I. Ms. Baynes' dinner party was this Friday too and I could not be more excited. "Wait...this Friday? Ette, are you going to the party in the big, white House, by your grandma's home?"

"Yeah, how did you know?"

"Eh, I'm also going." The words of my aunt revisited my mind. There was a feeling of doom which made me rethink whether I, or even Ette, should attend.

"Is your aunt making you go? Because I'm spending the weekend at my grandmother's and she says that I have to go because she wants all her friends to meet me."

"And all of her friends are going?"

"The whole town is invited. My grandma said that once in a while there is a huge party at the Magician's House; I'm only allowed to visit the neighbors when there is a party."

"Ette, hold on, your neighbor's house, the white House, that's The Magician's House?" The same house that lady at the store had talked about?

"Yeah, that's what my grandma said. Everyone stays away unless there is a party, party means food. Grandma says they make the best food in town." Ette explained.

"Why is it called that?" It was a stupid question, seeing the clarity of the House's name. It was the house of a magician, but Ms. Baynes was not a magician and the owner of the House...still there was not much I knew about him. Everything Ms. Baynes had said of him was questionable. The man was more than an architect, more than a man, so he was the Magician. Still the question remained as to why the house was avoided by the rest of the town. The Housekeeper was a nice enough lady, maybe the rest of the members were not as nice.

***

Aunt Marcelle sat on the sofa facing the door, contemplating the air around. Her look...I had done something wrong, terribly wrong. But I hadn't.

"Glad you're home." She stared up at me while I closed the door.

"Not so sure if I should feel the same way." The words slowly made their way out of my mouth.

Direct and to the point, she spoke, "Where did you get this?" In her hands, she held a small paper. I, sluggishly, walked closer to her, it was a picture.

"The photo? That isn't mine–"

She interrupted my train of thought, "–I know it isn't and, first of all, it is not a picture. It is a special drawing." It was a photograph; that is what it looked like. If aunt Marcelle wanted to call it a drawing, then that was fine as well. After glaring at the picture one more time, she asked; "who gave it to you?"

"Ms. Bay—" Where had I left that picture? I couldn't even remember taking it out of my purse. My aunt had gone through my things!

"Ms. Bay who? Baynes, Ms. Baynes? Was it her? Oh god, I knew it." She placed a hand on her forehead.

"What did you know? Aunt Marcelle, I thought you trusted me. How could you have gone through my things?"

"Of course I didn't look through your things! I picked it up this morning; it fell from your purse as you walked inside the Park with Kostas. —June, who did she say these two girls were?"

"She didn't tell me. Ms. Baynes didn't say a word. The picture is hers she gave it to me by mistake."

A sigh of relief escaped her. "Oh Jesus," Aunt Marcelle hugged me. "Are you sure?"

"Eh."

"Eh? Eh what?" Aunt Marcelle's stare was agonizing, it pierced through my eyes and held my glance, injecting its panic.

"Ms. Baynes insisted that it was mine. She made me take it." Why was that picture so important, who were those girls? Aunt Marcelle sat back down, she shook her head and remained silent. I sat next to her, "Are you gonna tell me what the picture means, or not?"

"It's not a picture. That's why it caught my eyes as it fell from your purse. It is a drawing. I recognized the fine texture of paper." She moved her fingers across the drawing. "If I tell you what it means, your image of this family will be destroyed. You are not ready to hear it and I'm not ready to tell it."

"What does this drawing, or picture, or whatever have to do with us? This is Ms. Baynes' picture." How could a simple piece of paper destroy my family? Her words sounded like an invitation. Aunt Marcelle's words had opened a door and she knew I would not be the one to close it.

"June, the time has come and I have been dreading this. Life will change for you, it will change for us all. Give me time to meditate and find the words to explain it to you and Leev". Her mysterious tone was irritating. What was so hard to understand? I could not comprehend why this had become such a big deal.

"Aunt Marcelle, I will give you all the time you want but you must realize that I will not remain waiting, cross-armed. Ms. Baynes must know the history of the drawing and I will ask her. Nothing will stop me from finding out whatever it is you won't tell me. Then, I will give you the same look you gave me when I walked through the door this afternoon."

"I expect you to do so." Aunt Marcelle moved towards me and kissed my forehead. "Everyone receives a calling in life; one that is louder and deeper than any sound. It twists the heart into a dreamless world if left unanswered. Mine was to conceal all this information and history, which I am sure you will soon uncover. The time has come for everything to be revealed and I don't know how to start." She closed her eyes slowly. Aunt Marcelle struggled to speak again. "I'm not sure if it is my place to tell. June, your world will break apart. Take what you have left of this life and cherish it, because it will never be the same. You won't look at it the same...you won't look at me the same. At times you will be very angry and I expect you to be. Only when a lack of hope overcomes you, it is then when you must worry and question your existence." As if remembering the past, she laughed; it sounded cynical, sad, and hinted towards the stinging affliction battling to stay inside her. "Your mother would be so scandalized if she found out. She always thought we could fight them. Edda thought we would one day be able to hide; to keep you from them. If she only knew you frequent that House and those people whom had the nerve to give you this." The paper shook in her hand. "Edda would have ran, I pity her because she had hope. No one has hope against the Patrol, but she did—she has." My aunt walked to the backyard and sat on the ground next to her flower bed. I watched as Aunt Marcelle buried her face in her hands.

Leev had been right all along, something was wrong with my aunt...with my whole family. Sure, everyone thinks their family is the weirdest one, but now I had material to work with; a secret, a really big one, a life changing one. Aunt Marcelle was playing along with my imagination. Maybe she was trying to keep my mind off my parents' disappearance or giving me something to occupy my summer with. Whatever her motives were didn't matter; I was on board, determined to find what couldn't be found. My wish was to be known as the one who revealed the disgraceful secret that lay waiting, festering at the core of our family. Future generations would use my name to describe the one who seeks. It was a game consisting of mysteries and adventures. Also, there was a fitting title for the winner. Perhaps, I shouldn't have treated it as a game. Seeing that in the end there wasn't a single winner but a fat group of pitiful losers.

The detachment of my surroundings became extreme and I developed a blindness, immune to the clues thrown at full force against me. Instantly, I should have wondered why my aunt had broken-down over a piece of paper that Ms. Baynes— a woman my aunt had no association with— had given me. A picture coming from a house my aunt had never visited. Somehow my mother was dangerously involved in all this matter because she knew about the House and, strangely, about its people. Yet my mother hadn't set foot on this town in years. Why didn't I question the relationship between the House, the picture, and my family, immediately after my aunt asked about the picture? It was the first question I should have asked myself, however, all I could think about was Ms. Baynes' dinner party, which conveniently took place the next day.
Chapter Four

The morning of the dinner party brought with it refreshing, and clarifying thoughts: Ms. Baynes held the answer and I was going to uncover it. Tonight.

My bedroom door opened abruptly and Leev jumped towards me carrying a distressed look. "June, I was right."

"I know."

"You know? How?" Uncertainty washed upon her face. To me, Leev was never right.

Most times she was wrong because she perceived situations in the wrong way. On her best days, Leev was almost right but, never, simply right; as was the case now.

"Grandma called a few seconds ago to ask how things were going," Leev proceeded to explain. "She asked to put my mom on the phone. I stayed behind and listened while my mother spoke."

"What did she say?"

"That she couldn't hold it any longer; she was going to blurt it out. –What is she hiding?" Leev shrieked with frustration. "Maybe, if you ask her–" She began to propose her plan but I dismissed it, considering our previous conversation.

–"Don't bother, she won't tell me." I told Leev about the picture and about the supposed secret. Her eyes almost popped out of her skull. I couldn't tell if she was scared, nervous or excited. "Ms. Baynes must know about the picture and I'm going to ask her today, at the party."

"You think that's the best place to ask her? My mother is going to be there. She will have her eyes on you and Ms. Baynes like a hawk." Leev was right again...for the second time in a row. Well, if I couldn't talk to Ms. Baynes at the party, I would do it after. One way or another I was going to find the meaning of the picture—drawing...somehow. We stayed in my room the entire morning and afternoon, planning out the rest of the day. Leev had to find a way of distracting Aunt Marcelle so that I could be alone with Ms. Baynes. My aunt wasn't easily sidetracked. Leev had to pretend to break her foot, or maybe choke on something; anything that didn't involve severe injuries or death wouldn't work.

At 4:30 p.m., Aunt Marcelle drove us to the House. We made our way through the front garden's blue-tiled path. Leev moved next to me and whispered in my ear, "You do know that this is the Magician's House, right? Hopefully no one from SR Corporation sees me here."

"Did you say something, Leev?" Aunt Marcelle glanced back at us. She and Leev looked beautiful; one could tell they were related. Leev wore a black dress and my aunt wore a white skirt with a red blouse. For a slight second I wondered why my appearance differed so much from theirs but obviously my looks resembled my mother's not my aunt's. Mom had fine features and bright, auburn hair; like mine. Aunt Marcelle had shiny black hair, like all of our other relatives. That day, I wished to have silky, dark hair; as dark as the night. Leev and Aunt Marcelle were my family and I wanted to look like them.

A small group of people were gathered to the left side of the opened, front doors. Ms. Baynes divided the crowd as she walked out to greet us.

"June, you've come. How wonderful!–Oh and you ladies must be June's aunt and cousin."

"Yes, Ms. Baynes, this is my aunt, Marcelle, and my cousin, Leev." I introduced them.

"Very nice to meet you Ms. Baynes, June speaks wonders of you." Aunt Marcelle held Ms. Baynes hand and stared right into her face, not letting the glance wander.

"Well she, certainly, speaks of you too. June is a very...interesting person, and she's full of energy."

"That she is." Aunt Marcelle smiled at me but quickly turned to Ms. Baynes, "It would be my wish if she would treasure that energy, and not waste it on senseless activities or people. But my wishes, unfortunately, are only wishes." My aunt's tone seemed casual and she didn't seem taken aback by Ms. Baynes' colorful garments which mirrored her lively personality. Leev, on the other hand, was so captivated that not much was heard from her for the rest of the conversation.

"Not only wishes." Ms. Baynes interjected. "Wishes are powerful, especially if they come from someone like you, Marcelle. Do not make the same mistake of others who devalue their thoughts and feelings. But do recall that we must all make sacrifices. Such might be vital for the survival of our species. They call it the greater good."

"Very easy to say for those whom are not being sacrificed, right?"

"Oh but you must realize, in our world, we have all been sacrificed." Ms. Baynes returned the staring look, it was daring, almost cold. At this point Leev and I had lost track of their conversation and its meaning had surpassed our understanding.

"Ms. Baynes, I would love to have a chat with you later, alone, if possible. I fear we have much to talk about."

"But of course, gladly. First though, you guys must dine and meet some guests. How about it?"

"Perfect."

Ms. Baynes walked us inside. Long, golden drapes covered the once naked windows. On each corner of the room, there were long, narrow tables filled with meals of all kinds, some which looked unrecognizable. Who knew flowers were edible? The clean-white walls had been concealed by fancy, rich fabrics. Five large chandeliers adorned the ceiling.

Ms. Baynes took my aunt and cousin around, introducing them to the rest of the guests. The amount of people at the party surprised me; maybe food did bring people together like Ette had said. I strolled back and forth between the tables, trying to keep close to Ms. Baynes. My aunt was doing a great job staying by her side, but at times Ms. Baynes would disappear from my sight. There were plenty of people to steal her attention; I just needed a few seconds of her time and a few glimpses of her memory.

Aunt Marcelle walked closer to me and then grabbed a plate of food. When she had finished, my aunt turned and moved towards the front entrance. Leev rapidly whispered as she walked behind her mom, "there's your chance. Two of her coworkers are here, she's making her way towards them now." Wanting to believe fate was on my side, I began to search for the Housekeeper. My path had been lit. Ms. Baynes stood under the light of one of the chandeliers. I had only to make my way across the room. Quickly, before someone took her away. Suddenly, the figure of a tall man obscured my view of Ms. Baynes. The man looked ahead; his face away from me. He looked familiar...no it couldn't be him.

"Kostas?" I walked around to see his face. It was him! What was he doing here? He was supposed to be away; attending his private, secret meeting.

"June?" His eyebrows lowered. "June. It's you? No." Kostas placed a hand on his forehead. My presence had visibly affected his semblance.

"Yes, it's me. C'mon Kostas what's wrong? I see you finished your special meeting early."

"Meeting?" He paused. "Oh yes, that meeting. No, no, it was rescheduled for next weekend. I decided to take the day off and come by to see what all the fuss was about." He ended the sentence with a nervous chuckle.

"So what do you think?"

"What do I think?" A blank expression displayed on his face. "Confused—surprised, actually." Kostas' eyes wandered off, as if he were trying to find his sight.

"Kostas? Kostas, are you alright?" I shook his arm.

"Listen to me, June–" his eyes shut for a second. Then, in a state of shock, Kostas' eyes popped open. "I'm fine." But he wasn't fine. The way he looked at me felt like an agonizing cry for help.

Leev made her way into my vision range. Her behavior wasn't any better than Kostas'. She started to make weird hand signals; all of which were unfamiliar.–"June, there you are! Come I want you to meet–June?" Aunt Marcelle's voice sneaked behind me.

"Aunt Marcelle, this is Kostas, my boss. I think he isn't feeling well." The level of anxiety rose with every word.

"You think? This man looks like he has been possessed. We need to get him help." She raised her tone, but the noise of the chatter prevailed over her voice. In frenzy, his legs began to shake. The people in the crowd were too concerned with each other and their food to notice Kostas' state. Leev soon joined us. She and I grabbed Kostas' arms, while Aunt Marcelle did her best to part the way.

"We have to get him to a hospital," Slightly, I raised my voice, just enough so that my aunt could hear me.

"No!" Kostas yelled as we dragged him outside the House. "No one can see me, no one."

"Kostas, you don't look well. Let us take you to a hospital. No one will see you." I promised.

"Only if you stay here and enjoy the party." He dug his heels on the ground.

"Why? Kostas, I don't care about the party, let's go."

Aunt Marcelle stopped and took my place, holding Kostas' arm. –"June, stay here. I'll take him. It will be faster this way."

Kostas remained quiet. What was wrong with him? I had never seen him like this. "Fine. As soon as you find out what's wrong, please, let me know."

Aunt Marcelle nodded at my request. "Leev, you stay too. Make sure to keep an eye on your cousin." We watched her help Kostas into the car, then she took off. Leev and I looked at each other; not knowing what to do. The party had been undisturbed by Kostas' exit. The ambiance was more festive than ever. The townspeople had now dispersed throughout the House. Still there remained a crowd on the front garden. Men, women and even a few children, surrounded a couple which danced to the tune of an old violin player. The group moved slightly as the couple went by twirling, following their violinist. In a few minutes the crowd had concentrated around the spot Leev and I stood. The scene was no short of a spectacle. Soon enough my cousin and I were engaged; part of the moving crowd.

"Got a text from mom. She says: Kostas was dehydrated and he hadn't eaten. The doctors will keep him overnight. He should be fine by morning." Leev put her phone back into her purse when she finished reading.

"That was fast." I looked up.

"Fast?" Leev lowered her eyebrows.

"Well yeah, Aunt Marcelle just left–look" I pointed to the dancing couple. "They haven't even finished their dance."

"June, that's because they have been dancing for over two hours!" So, maybe my notion of time had been impaired. Worst things had happened today, nothing had gone as we had planned and my meter of discouragement had hit its highest level.

"We should head home, then."

"No, we shouldn't." Leev took me aside. "Kostas is going to be ok and my mother is still at the hospital. Go talk to Ms. Baynes." She was right, it was time to focus. After all, I had only come to the dinner party for one reason, well not for only one reason, but mainly for the drawing.

"Let's go." I grabbed her arm.

"Actually, I'm gonna get some food and watch more people dance." She smiled. "It'd be best if you spoke to her in private." Leev walked with me inside but stayed behind, by the food tables. After a few minutes almost all of the guests had made their way to the front garden. The Housekeeper stood in front of one of the halls next to the dark tunnel. Her orange polka-dot dress sparkled as I approached her.

"June, come. I have been meaning to talk to you. I am so glad we have the time now." She grabbed my hand and led me inside one of the halls.

"Good, Ms. Baynes, because there's something I must ask you. The other day, you gave me a drawing of two girls. I was hoping you could tell me who they were." Inside the Hall there were different openings. Ms. Baynes' hurried pace left me no time to take a better look through the rooms. We passed a kitchen; spotless, pure white. There were light, stone countertops and cream tiled floors. I doubted whether someone had ever stepped inside.

"A drawing, you say?" Ms. Baynes kept moving. The sound of dangling keys around her neck added musicality to our walk. "Two little girls, huh?" She placed a finger on the side of her head; about to remember, the words held on the tip of her tongue. Ms. Baynes' body halted, "sorry June, but this issue will have to wait." We had come to stop at the end of the hall, in front of a large dark door.

"It's important that you remember Ms. Baynes–"

"—Sshh. I have a surprise for you." She grabbed the chain of keys from her neck and unlocked the door. "Go in," she said. Inside, a deep-red carpet covered the floors. Smooth, red drapes bordered with golden trims, embellished the two windows to the side of the room. Clearly, red was the theme of the room. From the walls to the floor, to the napkins neatly set on the table. The grandiose dinner table extended to the far end of the room. Occupying four spaces at the table, there sat four people, whose intimidating eyes were pinned on me. My face became another ornament in the room as the blood rose to my head. "Everyone," Ms. Baynes closed the door. "This is June Corpelle."

"Welcome, June Corpelle." Their smiles eased the pressure in my face. Ms. Baynes tapped my shoulder encouraging me to move forward. Each person had a covered plate of food in front. "Sit, June" She signaled to an empty spot.

"This is our chef, Mr. Zorga." Ms. Baynes pointed to a bald, slim, tall man with an elongated nose. Zorga sat in front of me, his dark eyes shined as a narrow smile appeared on his face.

"I'm Gilcome," The words interrupted my assessment of the chef. Gilcome, much younger, maybe around his late teen years, sat to my left. His glance impacted me. It crawled deeply beneath my defenses, acting like a scavenger, searching, picking and picking at the entry point of my thoughts. At first, I thought it was disturbing and he seemed to know so. Soon, however, I became flattered by it and he was quick to notice. It was then that his eyes appeared to be smiling at mine every time our sight collided. "I'm Mr. Zorga's helper. Nice to meet you, June."

"Oh, it is very nice to meet you too, to meet all of you." These were the people Ms. Baynes had talked about before: The members of the House. Why hadn't they come outside to meet the other guests? Why was I here? Alone! Leev shouldn't have left me by myself.

"June," The young lady sitting next to Gilcome spoke. "It must be weird for you to be around strangers, such as ourselves. Ms. Baynes talked so much about you and your interest in this House, that we couldn't wait to meet you." Twigs and flowers were placed in-between the golden hairs of her head. She had long dark eyelashes and large eyes like my mother's. "My name is Netania, I'm the plant's doctor," a musical tone accompanied her voice. It was pleasing to hear the melody that was released from her green-colored lips.

"By that, she means: gardener." Mr. Zorga finally decided to speak.

"Our wonderful, cook–I'm sorry...chef—" The man in front of Netania looked at me as he spoke, "—forgot to include that Netania is also our Healer."

Netania sweetly interrupted him, "Well, my love for plants has helped me find different uses for them. I do my best to help the members with their occasional aches. Also, my flowers make wonderful fragrances. Next time you visit, come by the gardens sometime. I'll be glad to show you some of my plants." She stopped talking after that but I wanted to hear her speak again. The soothing sound of her voice made me feel at ease. It was like one of those peaceful songs that makes you want to go to sleep; but her voice made me feel awake and aware of this moment. A special moment, this was such a great opportunity. I was meeting the members of the House! Ever since that picture, I had lost sight of the House and its beauty. It was the real reason I was in here, to enjoy and take in all the pieces that made this House the gem of town.

The man in front of Netania called my name. "I'm Jacknell; you may call me Jack if you wish." He smiled. "Thank you for taking the time to visit us. We haven't had a special guest like you in a while." Jacknell pushed his shoulders back against his chair.

"Jacknell is our handyman, carpenter, plumber; you name it and he can fix it." Ms. Baynes proudly gushed.

"Don't make me blush, Ms. Baynes." Jacknell laughed, "I'm not as talented as...say Mr. Zorga here, –you know June, he cooked all the food outside, all of it. With Gilcome's help, of course." The slightly mocking tone of his words made my eyes glance back at Zorga.

"Oh by heavens, Jacknell, but you are talented. See, he built this ornate dining table." The chef stared at Jacknell.

Not understanding what was happening, I dared to speak anyways, "You both seem very talented to me."

"Yes, all of our members are remarkable." Ms. Baynes tried to ease the tension. "There's one member missing, you'll get a chance to meet him later on. He is our Messenger. The party ambiance overwhelmed him, he headed home." Ms. Baynes explained.

His title intrigued me, "what does a messenger do?"

The members looked at each other. After a short silence, the Healer spoke, "He buys our groceries and informs us about town events."

Buy groceries? They lived here! All of them. The members were not only the ones who maintained the House, they were its inhabitants. "He is the only member that lives outside the House, otherwise he wouldn't be able to inform us right?"

Why did they need to be so...informed? Was the messenger part of a news crew?

"June, I can see the confusion in your face, let me explain." Jacknell offered. "We don't leave the House, therefore we need someone to be our communicator, the middle man, you know?"

"You don't leave the House? Like in the winter? It doesn't get that cold here in Florida." I had been less confused before the explanation.

"We don't ever leave." Gilcome added. His words vibrated across the room. Ever...ever. As a warning, Netania whispered his name in between her teeth. These people were crazy, why was I here? This had been a bad idea.

"It is better that way," The chef proclaimed, "we don't like to socialize with just any person. Besides, what are we missing out on? Those people," his arm raised and pointed towards the door, "the people out there aren't even interesting. They aren't worth it." Zorga blurted in disgust.

"Oh Mr. Zorga, don't do that! How dare you?" Jack raised his voice as Netania glanced up at him. "Don't pretend it's our choice."

"Jacknell, please." Ms. Baynes intervened, "June, doesn't need to be concerned by this." The rosy color of her face intensified quickly.

"Ms. Baynes what do they mean? Do you guys really never leave the House? I don't understand."

"Dear, please. I'll explain everything after the dinner party is over. Let's enjoy the food that Mr. Zorga has prepared." She shot a piercing look at Mr. Zorga and Jacknell, "I won't let the occasion get ruined by worthless comments.—June, would you do us the honor?" Ms. Baynes pointed to the covered dish in front of me. Her face was still flushed.

"Come again?" I replied.

"Our guest of honor always takes the first bite." She explained.

"What about the other guests, don't you think they are wondering where you are? Aren't you going to serve them dinner too?" I inquired.

"June, let's not fool anyone, they didn't come here to enjoy my company. The town doesn't care much about this House or the people that live inside it. The truth is, they were invited because I like to share the House with everyone that is willing to show up. It is meant to be admired." All the members smiled, even Jacknell and Zorga. "There are plenty of tables decorated with foods of all kinds; they can take whatever they please." Ms. Baynes continued. "Today you are the guest of honor, don't worry about them."

Alright, how bad could it be? The sooner I have dinner the sooner I can get out. Slowly, I uncovered the warm lid off the plate. The smell progressed from my nose, through my mouth and into my stomach. A forbidden food; at least forbidden to me: Shellfish. A glance into the colorful plate confirmed it. There were pink shrimps coated in butter, next to something that looked like crab meat and a whole red lobster. Oh no! The sound of the people outside created a buzz in my ears. Inside, everyone's eyes fixed on me.

"Eat up June; I'm sure it's not that hot," Mr. Zorga said. The smell and sight were now becoming unbearable. Another look at the place and I almost considered taking a bite.

Tiny bugs softly began to dance on my eyeballs. The itchy sensation in my eyes could only be sated by ripping them off my face with my bare nails. The worst part was facing the distorted image in the mirror; the image of me. A monstrous person was trapped inside; it watched me. I glared into her swollen brown eyes; she wasn't intimidated with my look. Her eyelids met and then parted wide. The brownness of her iris encircled the dark emptiness of her semblance. "I can't eat it."

"Why is that? Is there something wrong with it? Gilcome, did you serve it right?" Mr. Zorga angrily asked at the top of his lungs.

Gilcome blinked a couple of times before replying. "Was there a special way of serving it?"

"No, the dish looks great," I spoke up before an argument could start. "I'm allergic to shellfish."

Ms. Baynes jumped out of her seat and covered my plate immediately. "Oh dear, are you ok? How do you feel? Do you need assistance?" She spoke nervously, causing greater concern among the rest of the members.

"I feel fine. I can tolerate the smell. Don't worry Ms. Baynes, I'll be ok."

Without saying a word, Mr. Zorga softly wiggled a small, silver bell and a door behind me opened. Three women walked towards the table. One of the ladies closed the teal door; it was the only thing not covered in red. The ladies all wore white aprons and carried with them empty trays. "Do you mind eating dessert instead of dinner?" Mr. Zorga grinned. The women removed every plate from the table. "It would only be rude if we ate a food you cannot eat. Therefore we shall all eat dessert. We can all enjoy the same food...together." It was embarrassing to sit there and reject the food he had, so carefully, prepared. It was an impressively, delicious-looking dish. Not eating his food was the worst insult Mr. Zorga could have taken. Although he did not show it, his ego had been bruised by the new guest's food restrictions.

"It is alright, June." Jacknell laughed. "As long as you aren't allergic to sugar too, I'm sure Mr. Zorga will let this one pass." The three look-a-like ladies placed a plate in front of each person.

"This is called Goodbye Cool Summer," Mr. Zorga pointed at his dessert. I had never seen a dessert such as this one. The top was made of velvet cake, but it wasn't red, it was yellow. There were four extra layers underneath that one. Three wedges of mango peeked below the last layer. "June," Mr. Zorga extended his hand, "Go ahead," he said.

I pierced it with my spoon and placed a portion in my mouth. The freshness of the mango twirled across my mouth. The next layer was covered with sliced almonds dipped in vanilla. My eyes closed as the taste transported me to the middle of a tropical forest; surrounded by guavas, oranges, bananas and green-painted skies. The fresh air swept me back into the red room of the white House. Calmness overcame me, my back relaxed into the chair and my eyes opened. The members were not strangers anymore. They were, now, fascinating individuals worthy of knowing. The sound of Mr. Zorga's bell startled me. The plate in front of me was empty. Joyous voices from the party outside infused the air. The triplet ladies opened the teal door and removed our plates one last time.

"What was that?" A small smile formed as I directed the question towards Mr. Zorga.

"What was what?" He repeated, not understanding why I had asked.

"Your dessert. It was weird, wonderfully weird." The taste hadn't perplexed me. It was the feeling. The emotion of eating it refreshed me like a soothing remedy.

He scoffed, "I take it you liked it, then?"

"I did."

"Then you don't need to know what it was. Sometimes food needs to be just like magic and a chef just like a magician. A magician never reveals his tricks. Mystery makes the dish that much better, don't you think?"

"Maybe you're right." I laughed softly. The members wanted me to try more of Zorga's foods, but I had left Leev alone for a long time and Aunt Marcelle would arrive soon from the hospital. Ms. Baynes walked me out. Before reaching the party, she leaned closer to me:

"That drawing, the one you say I gave you," Ms. Baynes whispered. Finally, yes, she had remembered. "I need it back," she bit her lip.

"Back? Would you at least tell me who the girls were?"

"You were right, that picture wasn't yours. It belongs to our Healer. She gave it to me for safe keeping. The other day she was looking for it and—you still have it, right?" Her pupils grew slightly.

"Don't worry, I'll bring it back—so, then Netania is one of the girls in the picture. Do you know who the other one is?" Technically I didn't have the picture, Aunt Marcelle did. But Ms. Baynes had nothing to worry about.

"Yes, the other girl is Netania's sister.—Again, I'm sorry for the confusion dear." She exhaled and merged into the party ambiance while I looked for my cousin.

Leev still stood at the same spot I had left her, by the dancing couple. "That was fast." She grabbed her bag and we began walking away from the House.

"Fast? It felt like forever in there, how long was I gone?"

"About twenty-minutes–What did she say about the drawing?"

"Well, it isn't ours, so we have to give it back?"

"That's impossible." Her feet came to a halt. "What about my mother's secret? Why would she get upset over a drawing of two unknown girls? One of them has to know my mother or be related to her in some way. It just doesn't make any sense."

"Maybe Aunt Marcelle is confused." Nothing fit in, unless my aunt was playing a trick on us, which wouldn't be likely. Aunt Marcelle had overreacted over a mistaken picture. It was as simple as that. But it wasn't simple at all because that meant that there was a real something worthy of her reaction.

"Or, could it be—" Leev pulled my arm and spoke in a hurry as we approached our house. "The person who owns the picture knows about my mother's secret—who did you say the owner was?"

"The gardener, rather, plant healer or something. How would she know something about our family? Those people don't ever leave the House. Besides Aunt Marcelle has never mentioned them before."

"June, open your eyes." She whispered as we arrived. "There must be a connection to the House somehow. That's where the drawing came from, right?"

***

Aunt Marcelle stood by the door, about to leave. "Hey, how did you sleep?"

I had woken up early to catch her before she went to work and ask about Kostas' health. "Better than Kostas I imagine. By the way, what did the doctors say?"

"It's weird; he got better as we left the House." She bit her lower lip, "Once we got to the hospital he seemed much better. The doctors said that he should be drinking more water, especially working under the sun." Her face appeared concerned. "The look in his face while we were at the House was terrifying. It's going to be hard to forget. After work I'll try to check on him." She opened the door.

"Aunt Marcelle, before you leave—"

"Yes?" She stopped.

"I need the drawing back."

"The drawing..." She repeated. "May I ask why? Is there anything you want to tell me?"

"We have to return it. As it turns out, it isn't mine, or ours, or belonging to anyone in this family."

Aunt Marcelle arched her eyebrows and tried to come up with a response but couldn't. "Is that so?" Her glance shifted downwards.

"Yes, but even if the drawing is no longer a factor, I won't stop." This time I was able to catch her eyes. The words were not meant to sound threatening, but she had to be prepared.

"Oh, June." Her voice became dismissive. Is this about that silly thing I told you; the secret? There isn't a secret honey, I was only being senseless." A fading smile curved the side of her mouth, trying to cover up the slip of tongue.

"Forgive me, but you sounded pretty serious."

Aunt Marcelle's face became rigid. "I'm going to be late. –Look June, the drawing is in one of my drawers. Be sure to return it today because you won't be visiting Ms. Baynes any longer."

"What? You can't do this! Why?" Aunt Marcelle had to be kidding. Now she was truly being senseless. How could she? The drawing and the members had nothing to do with her secret. It wasn't fair. There was nothing she could say or do to keep me away from the House. She had no right.

"We'll talk about this later." After slamming the door, Aunt Marcelle dashed to her car.

The noise caused Leev to rush out of her room in a frenzy, trying to figure out what she had missed. "Where are you going?" Leev felt disoriented after seeing the rage in my steps while I rushed up the stairs.

"To find the drawing." The words squeezed bitterly between my teeth. How could my aunt do this to me? For the first time in a long time, I had something to look forward to. The House made me happy. How could she take it away? "She said I couldn't go to the House anymore. Can you believe her?" The wooden set of drawers was placed to the side of Aunt Marcelle's bed.

"Calm down, June–here, I'll help you look." Leev opened one drawer while I looked through another. Aunt Marcelle was an organized person, which made it difficult to understand why she had so many papers mixed together. Inside the drawer there where two paper boxes, which contained paper forms and letters. Far, to the side of the drawer, there was a small picture box.

Anger dispersed through my body. I won't stop going. Against her wishes, against what she says or does. The House is beautiful; no one will keep me from it. The heat of my blood warmed my face and helped me look through the pictures faster. It laid there, at the bottom of the box. The torn edges enclosed the black and white image of two little girls resting on a garden. Their faces stared at me, innocent, unaware of themselves. Unaware of the world, and of me; the one observing their captured memory without consent.

"Found it. Let's organize this mess."

Leev remained motionless. A long sheet of paper reposed on her lap. She had been quiet ever since she opened the drawer. Her gaze fell on my face as I moved closer. "June." Leev's eyes glinted with sadness. "I don't understand." She took one last glance at the sheet.

"Understand what? What is it? Let me see." It was a letter from Granny to Aunt Marcelle. The note was dated five years ago, from when Granny had traveled to England with her friend Ruth King. Mrs. King was a nice woman but after her husband died she had fallen into a state of depression. Granny and her became closer and decided to travel to England to meet some old friends. Aunt Marcelle was never fond of Mrs. King because she always seemed to be around when something bad happened. Leev pointed to a sentence and my eyes focused on it:

'Sadly, just as we had expected. They have both been found and taken to Fexorrous by the Patrol. Your cousin Edda is gone, keep the girls safe.'

My sight blurred after the first words, the anger had dissolved, leaving its bitter taste behind. "Gone?" They were gone, my parents had always been gone.
Chapter Five

***

The Patrol was enacted by the Magic Council under Lord Seb Creat's rule to ensure that the energies of those belonging to Fexorrous was contained within the barriers of the land. The Patrol was made of feeders; soulless beings, bound to the Royal House. From an early age, they were conditioned to be loyal slaves to the Lord.

Generally, feeders are put through a series of tests which they must pass in order to join the Patrol and serve the Lord. But to become a feeder, one must first be a wanderer. When the body is severely wounded, physically or emotionally, a person begins to lose their sense of being; their soul. Once the soul leaves in search of a better carrier, a person becomes a wanderer. Wanderers roam the streets of Fexorrous selling what is left of their soul to energy Carriers and the high class members of the Lord's court. Once the wanderer gives up what is left of the soul, he or she can apply to become a feeder as a member of the Patrol to collect beings for Seb Creat.

Seb Creat was born as an ordinary resident of Fexorrous. Creat had not been doted as an energy Carrier. He was also not a wielder of it. As a young boy his admiration for high ranking officials of the, then Lord, Llou, became an obsession. When Creat came of age he applied to join the Royal Militia, but his efforts were soon mocked. All soldiers and any person serving the Royal House, had to be, at least, a Carrier. Seeing the hardship Creat had gone through to enroll in his army, Lord Llou suggested he enroll in the Academy for the Common.

Lord Llou decided to aid Seb Creat in his education. Since the Royal House owned all the mentors in the Academy, the Lord himself selected the best mentor for Creat. His mentor would be known as the greatest of them all, one who was, both, a Carrier and a Wielder of energy. He was the most powerful of his time.

Seb Creat was a great student and over time he was able to manipulate energy like one of the best. However, unlike many students of the power, Seb Creat noticed the energy was being wasted in the land of Fexorrous. The reign of Lord Llou came to an end after one of his guards poisoned him with a Moonstar flower while he slept. The throne was ceded to Creat's Mentor, as he was an experienced Wielder of energy and could protect Fexorrous from intruding armies. But Creat believed his mentor would not be the best ruler for Fexorrous. Creat had envisioned ruling the land from an early age, no one would keep him from the throne, not when he was so close, not when all he had learned was within his reach. Seb Creat was charismatic and gained a few rouge followers. In the years of his mentor's ruling, Creat's group of supporters continued growing and he became better known to the court and to the public. Quickly, the student was able to convince the public to overthrow his mentor's rule. Fexorrous had yet to witness the free-flowing force of energy that could seep out to construct the greatest and strongest empire of all time.

However, Seb Creat could never rest, not even when he had every Fexorrian head eating the scrapings at his feet. After a couple of years in power, Lord Seb Creat became fearful. His ruling was at a disadvantage because he was not the source of his own power. He began to ask Carrier citizens to donate their energies to create an army, one stronger than any other. Such could expand and help keep Fexorrous as the commander of other lands. Paranoia greeted Lord Seb Creat every night in fear of an energy revolution. Unlike him, some Fexorrian citizens were energized; powerful. It became apparent to the citizens that he was not equipped to be the Lord of Fexorrous after all. The new Lord had just taken his first bite of power and its taste was exhilarating and enticing. He wanted more of it and to maintain his rule, he implanted fear into the mind of the people, like a nightmare in the dark. Those whom were Carriers of energy were dangerous individuals because they could use their energy to threaten the security of the Royal House and of the peaceful citizens of Fexorrous.

His new campaign called for fairness, indicating that all should be equal. Since not all citizens were energized, all Carriers should have to give up their energies to the Royal House. Wielders; manipulators of the power, would have to work solely for the Lord. Those whom were not happy with the new decree could quietly leave town, with the condition of never setting foot on any Fexorrian land.

The plan failed terribly, as advisors of the Court realized that the main towns were becoming desolate. The Court forced Lord Seb Creat to change his ruling. Only certain people would now be forced to work for the Palace, those with the strongest and purest form of energy. As for those citizens whom had fled, they would all soon be hunted down, their energies drawn and then tried as traitors in front of the Cia Magia jury of the Elite.

Fortunately, some lucky citizens were able to reach a land unknown to the Elite. This land was shielded from mystical interactions by law of the Council of Existence. It was able to accept those whom could mold into its natural environment and helped many citizens of Fexorrous to, successfully, escape persecution for years. Against a protection decree from the Council of Existence, The Fexorrian Patrol exposed its energy signature, opening portals for all dimensions to cross in. Since then, Lord Creat's intents have been focused on breaking the barriers between the worlds. His Patrol leads a restless search for fugitive energies; especially that of his mentor.

***

Fexorrous was a familiar place, one visited through the stories Granny used to tell Leev and I. Her stories, as we had come to find out, were anecdotes. All these years Aunt Marcelle and Granny had made me believe that my parents had abandoned me, in search of a different life. Maybe they had, because I didn't have memories of us together. In my mind, it remained unclear whether they were trying to shield me from their past, or if they just wanted a fresh start, away from anything that could remind them of, or tie them to, Fexorrous.

Leev stayed with me through the night, her demeanor had changed since reading the letter. The silence meant she, too, felt betrayed. Her eyes narrowed slightly while she stared into nothingness, as if trying to understand. Leev knew there was more to come. The letter was only a sideline character in the nightmare of lies. Many years had passed since it was written. In those years, while my parents were missing, Aunt Marcelle lived a carefree life, filling my head with lies. Why had she decided to let us know now? She had set the answer on our laps yet couldn't gather the courage to tell us from her own lips. Aunt Marcelle had given us the way, knowing that we would find the letter where she had kept the picture.

A purpose was kept from me, my eyes had been blind to it but not anymore. The force rushed beneath my skin and my body felt complete; powerful. My eyes rolled back and I collapsed. Leev jumped towards me before my back reached the floor. The feeling dissolved in a flash.

"June? Are you okay? June, what happened?"

"I'm fine."

"Fine? You almost fainted—must have been the shock. I feel like fainting too." Leev exhaled trying to balance out her rage. "What reason did they have to lie in such an evil way? Edda and Len have been gone for so long and we have been sitting here, doing nothing—do you remember Granny's stories?" Leev's grandmother lived to speak of Fexorrous and its prisoners. She hated its regime, its ruler, and the lack of freedom imposed by the Royal House. Most of all, she detested those who would bow down to Seb Creat, those afraid to speak up against the system, and those who would neglect their right to fight for themselves. Until now, we couldn't understand the anger in her stories, because they were only tales. Realizing that Fexorrous was a real place, broke my image of her. "Why would she let something like that happen to Edda, her favorite niece?" Leev asked, knowing my questions were the same as hers. With our heads full of doubts, we sat by one another trying to place pieces together. Leev thought that it was important to come up with the right way of letting Aunt Marcelle know that we had found the letter. She had to tell us everything now, everything, from the beginning.

By the late afternoon hours, Leev and I had abandoned our plan to wait and had decided to go through Aunt Marcelle's drawers in search of documents that could hint towards what had actually happened to my parents. Aside from that letter, there was nothing of importance; bills, birth certificates, more bills. The letter appeared to have been planted within the other documents because there was nothing that could relate to it. Nothing, except the drawing of the two girls that Ms. Baynes had given me.

"Did you hear that?" Leev dropped a few papers at the sound of knocks. "Shh" She remained still. "Someone's at the door. We have to fix all of this!" Aunt Marcelle's room had turned into a mess. There were papers covering every corner of the floor. My heart began to race with fear and guilt, but Leev did not panic. Her face still held the same look as before, she was determined to do whatever it took. "Go see who it is, I'll put everything back."

I walked down the stairs in shame, still with the drawing of the little girls in my hands. A tall figure faced the street as I opened the door. Little Ette ran towards me from behind the front-yard tree. Kostas turned to face me with a worrisome look.

"Kostas, what are you doing here?" I had planned to go visit him later during the day and see how he was doing. "Is everything alright? How are you feeling?" Intrigued by their visit, I invited both of them to take a seat inside.

"Calm down, don't worry. I'm perfectly fine." He took a place next to Ette, whom had thrown herself onto my aunt's couch. "Actually, the reason for the visit is because I have a message from your Aunt."

"Aunt Marcelle?"

"Do you have another aunt?" Kostas mocked. "She came to see me at the Park in the morning and asked me as a favor to tell you that she would be taking a trip today. You girls shouldn't wait up for her. Marcelle will be back by the end of the weekend."

"What?" Leev yelled from the top of the stairs and quickly joined the conversation after shyly apologizing for her initial reaction. "Don't take this the wrong way, Mr. Kostas, but since when do you and my mother know each other so well? Why would she take off like that? She never spoke of this with us?"

"It took me by surprise as well, girls. But this is what she asked me. Marcelle seemed upset, stressed, and I would dare to say she did not look to be in her right mind. Do you girls have any idea where she might have gone?"

"Probably to a friend's house." I would imagine she needed someone to talk to if she knew that we would find that letter this afternoon. But she could have called us to let us know. What was she so afraid of?

"No, Granny's! That's where she went. I'll phone grandma's house right away," Leev turned to walk back up the stairs but paused before taking a second step, noticing the drawing on my hand, "Do you want me to take that? I'll put it on your nightstand so that you don't forget to return it tomorrow." After giving her the drawing she headed upstairs to call Granny. Kostas and Ette excused themselves for the night. Ette was half as sleep as Kostas carried her into the car.

Once they had taken off, I went inside to join Leev. She rested at the foot of the stairs, staring into space, gone. It was hard to watch the disappointment given off by her stance. Leev tried her best to control the pulling and tearing inside, but I knew her world was quickly crumbling, because so was mine. She interrupted me just when I was about to ask her if she had called Granny's house. "It all makes sense now." An eerie look persisted in her eyes. "This was on your nightstand, behind some books. I was going to leave the drawing there." Leev had gathered all the pictures Aunt Marcelle had given me of my mother. In the pile, there was a picture which Leev did not let go of. "This is Aunt Edda, this is your mom, June." When she did not get the desired reaction from me, she dragged my arm to the kitchen table and placed the picture of my mom on the surface. Then, from the bottom of the pile, she took the drawing Ms. Baynes had given me and placed it besides the other picture. The youthful smile of my mother extended across both images. She was the other girl in the picture, next to the Gardener; Netania.

***

Aunt Marcelle had been gone through the weekend, as Kostas had informed us. On Monday morning, Leev and I braced ourselves for the confrontation argument. We had rehearsed our lines over and over, until all questions were covered. Disappointment shocked us once again. Seeing that she had not arrived, Leev and I resumed our working duties.

While at the Park, it was impossible to concentrate on anything but the haunting image of the drawing in my mind. Although the Park was closed to the public, the crew had been called in, to perform maintenance tasks. My job was to paint the outside of the office doors but I hadn't been able to finish the first coat of paint without thinking of the House. Ms. Baynes had mentioned that the drawing was of Netania, the girl next to her was her sister. Her sister! The girl next to the Gardener was my mother. She was not Netania's sister, she couldn't be. My mother had no sisters. At least I would have known that. The Housekeeper had made a mistake. She had heard wrong, it was the only possible explanation.

Except the other girl was my mother. As much as I wanted to deny it, my mother was in the picture, and she was in it for a reason. The Gardener could not be my mother's sister, but they had to know each other. She might have even met Ms. Baynes and the rest of the members. Perhaps they could tell me where my mother was. The Housekeeper had made sure to gloat about the powerful energy of the House and of the man who'd built it. Maybe they knew a way to reach her, if she was still alive. The way the drawing came into my life seemed strange but so was everything else surrounding me. At times, when uncontrollable situations presented themselves, it was easy to believe that events happened as they should, controlled by a powerful force, aware of order and balance. It was easy to tell myself that there was nothing I could have done for my parents in the past, but now? That same force was growing and spreading through my thoughts, inviting me to fix what had come to pass. And I thought of my parents; screaming words of pain and crying tears of anguish while I stood here, giving no use to the tools presented to me. That afternoon, while walking home, it became clear that my only duty was to understand why my parents had been taken. Then I would make it my mission to find them. Nothing more mattered, because finding them meant to find myself by discovering the life that had been hidden from me. Nature is as nature is, and my nature was mine, destined to be acknowledged by my being.

Leev met me outside my aunt's house, crouched by the porch stairs. Before I could greet her, she jumped into my arms, weeping restlessly. "Don't listen to her. I won't let you, June. Promise me, you won't do it."

"Leev, what are you talking about?"

"She's waiting for you inside. But she's gone crazy—how can all of this be possible? Why is this happening to us?" Leev pulled away to see my face. The setting sun lit the determination in her eyes, "I'll talk to Jeff, and maybe he can come up with a plan. He can help us." Jeff? What had Jeff to do with any of this? Why did she have to tell him about our family problems? Leev had been spending too much time with Jeff, however, Aunt Marcelle and I had yet to meet him. Since their meeting, Leev had been distracted and nervous, she seemed to be afraid all the time; not herself. Maybe at the time, I was jealous, because I felt like he was taking her away from us. "We'll pack our things and go where no one can tell us what to do, where they can't find us." As much as I wanted to believe her, I knew it was impossible to leave because the answer to everything was here. Besides, there was no place where we wouldn't be found. I stood out like a beacon.

Against her will, Leev accompanied me inside. We found Aunt Marcelle by the kitchen table. A lowered head hid the brokenness of her shattered voice. "Sit down, please." In a breath, she gathered enough courage to look up. Aunt Marcelle's hair was disheveled and mascara-tainted tears left tracks on her face. "We have to talk."

I pulled out a chair and sat down. All the anger and confusion suddenly disappeared at the sight of her anguish. I tried to ease the conversation. "It's not your fault."

"Yes. Yes, it is all my fault."

"I know my parents were taken. I know everything."

"No, June, you don't. You have no idea. This life we've been living has been a lie." With her hands shaking, she tried to maintain her composure. It was taking all she had not to cry. Aunt Marcelle's words of shame and guilt caressed the air. "Edda and Len ran away to find a place where they could raise you safely. When the Patrol tracked their energies, your parents decided to send you to live with me so that you wouldn't be found."

"Why did you let me believe that my parents had left me? All these years I've felt worthless. Every night you watched me cry." All of it was absurd, why had she allowed me to destroy the image of my parents so harshly? Aunt Marcelle had taken from me the opportunity to grieve their disappearance. To mourn them now, felt hypocritical. How could I grieve for something that had happened so many years ago? My aunt had ripped the ability to feel any emotion towards my parents. But there remained a loss which shattered my heart. The image of a loving aunt was vanishing slowly, as a paper floating on water. It would rip into small pieces, dispersing, waiting until the water finally consumes it.

"After they were taken, it was my duty to ensure that Leev and you were brought up without harm. I couldn't tell you the truth, June, Edda begged me. Knowing what you know now has started the process of becoming a Carrier of energy. If you would have known before, the Patrol would have found you too. We moved from the city because here you will find the only place where you cannot be tracked. For many years my home served as a barrier for our combined energy, but yours has over-expanded and—I'm sorry," Her head dropped before she could continue and Leev took the chance to speak.

"No mom, no. How could you have agreed to this? Tell her, tell June what will happen to her. Do you have the strength to look her in the eyes?"

"That is enough Leev! Don't you realize how hard this is for me—for all of us? I have to do what's best and if you would think like a grown up, for once, you would do the same." Aunt Marcelle's tone became distressed and frustrated. Leev would not give her a rest because she knew something I didn't. She felt disturbed and sickened by it. Leev's interrupting of her mother only delayed the words that were certain to come. In their struggle to find out who was right and wrong, or who was the most powerful, it seemed like I would never find out what would happen to me. The conversation, then, took a tense turn.

"The drawing, it was all a part of this, right mom? We know who's in it."

"It wasn't. Leev, not everything is a conspiracy. The drawing was the reason I went to talk to Granny, so she would instruct me on how to handle what was to come."

"Oh, I understand now." She looked at her mother in disappointment and made sure to hold the glance enough to make Aunt Marcelle feel defeated.

Ignoring Leev's look and comment, Aunt Marcelle expressed her relief, "Frankly, I'm glad you figured out the meaning of the drawing because it makes things much easier, at least I would think so."

"Easier?" It was my turn to show confusion. "How can anything be easier?" The words stung as they were spoken and I knew they hurt her.

"In the beginning, I doubted whether you should visit the House because I was sure this would happen. But no one can stop it now. To tell the truth, I'm glad you like it there. It'll be less complicated since you two know each other." Aunt Marcelle cleared her throat. The remaining words were hard to say. "It will be easier when you go live with her."

The last part of the sentence perplexed Leev, as she already knew that I would be leaving Aunt Marcelle's home yet did not know the latest detail. "With her?" Neither Leev nor I knew who Aunt Marcelle was speaking of.

"June's Aunt. Edda's sister is the one in the drawing." The words lingered in the air. At first, their meaning escaped me. Leev plunged on the chair next to mine. Her head was being held by one of her hands. The lack of expression worried me. She had been blindsided, both of us had been; stabbed, just when we thought we had it.

***

The Housekeeper had been right. Having doubted her, embarrassed me. Ms. Baynes was a stranger but she had yet to become a liar in my eyes. Live with her? The gardener, she was my aunt; my mother's sister. Why hadn't anyone in our family ever spoken about Netania? Was she some sort of embarrassment to our family's name? Perhaps they had forgotten her existence, since she was living as a prisoner. Why was my mother's sister living in the House? The news had struck me as sweetly as a careful whisper; as a lighting ray to someone praying for death. Before the House, my life had lacked passion and desire.

The mere sight of it energized my blood. Lies and deceit were now forgiven, even welcomed, if it meant I could be closer to the House. While trying to sleep, I thought of Netania and wondered if she knew I was her niece. The night we met, her spirit gave off a feeling of longing and sorrow. The gardener's glance was dipped in nostalgia. It was possible that I reminded her of my mother, but she had no way of knowing for sure. The permanent stay at the House had severed any ties to her family. How would I tell her? What if she didn't want to be my aunt?

Chapter Six

Days had gone by since my last visit to the House. Time away became extensive, in my mind it spread into years. Returning became a daunting journey with every step taken. After finishing a maintenance shift at the Park, I took the path home by the House. Netania's drawing rested on my bag. Knowing that I had to give up what had been my ticket into the House, troubled me. The turmoil that came with the discovery of the drawing created a glimmer of reality in the dim fantasy world that had become mine. Destiny had sunk its claws into my life.

The existence of a new aunt had made it possible to experience the emotional deterioration of another one. Aunt Marcelle had hit a depression streak after the shock of Leev's reaction towards her secrets. But it was the realization that she had been someone's pawn all her life, which destroyed her self-worth. Aunt Marcelle had allowed others to dictate her actions, to control her, to own her life. While speaking the truth about the drawing and about my mother, Leev and I watched as Guilt, painfully, exploded through her. The person that had been feeding her instructions could no longer tie Aunt Marcelle down. Guilt set her free; it encouraged her to reveal what should not have been. We spent Sunday by her side, answering work calls and cooking her dinner. Still, with tears slithering down her face, Aunt Marcelle tried to convince us she was fine. No one was fine; we wouldn't be for a long time. Aunt Marcelle was a strong woman; soon she would recover with the need to fix and mend the remaining relationships. Soon, however, wasn't soon enough, I had to fix it; I wanted to.

Through the side garden there was a shortcut leading to the front door. The left side of the House had never looked so inviting. A door which opened to the garden was being governed by the wind, shifting back and forth. From behind the door, a crashing noise paralyzed me. The loud, angry grunt was enough to make me pry in. "Is everything ok?"

Frustration took over his voice. "Does it look ok?" The chef's helper, Gilcome, was crouched on the floor. Although he was surrounded by cooking pots and utensils, it was easy to notice his tall and lean frame.

I stood behind, watching him, not knowing what to say. It looked like he could use some help but I didn't want to intrude, although it was already too late for that. "Need a hand?" I squatted next to him and helped pick up the pots from the white, marble tiles.

"More like eight! This is never going to get done." Gilcome held up two pans and walked towards a, sort of, storage closet to the side of the kitchen's main entrance.

"What happened?" At the dinner party I had only taken a peek at the kitchen and it had been spotless, glowing in white. Now it looked as if a storm god had cooked in it.

"June, right?" Gilcome walked out and bent to grab the last container. "This is how Mr. Zorga usually treats his kitchen; like a dirty pit." He stretched his hands as I passed him utensils placed on top of the kitchen countertop. "The man is a food genius. One would think he'd be organized or, at least, hygiene conscious. Mr. Zorga is an inconsiderate, self-righteous–eh forget it. He isn't that bad," Gilcome lowered his head and moved to the sink. He begun to clean the dishes. "Forgive me; I don't want to give you the wrong impression of him or of me–sit, grab one of those stools behind the countertop." Gilcome suggested. "—it shows poorly on my character to speak so horribly of my mentor. In fact, he is a good man." The dishes softly clashed underneath his hands. "This is just not what I signed up for." Gilcome's angry tone diminished. "I'm not being fair—this isn't what any of us signed up for. Well, not that we actually signed up." At the time, I pretended to follow along, not noticing his hints. It appeared that Gilcome's cup was full; he'd had enough of Mr. Zorga and the cleaning.

A fresh face had given him the opportunity to vent. Unfortunately, I hadn't been of much help. Resting both elbows on the counter top, I doubted whether to interrupt him or not. A shortage of encouraging expressions left no words in my mouth, so I remained quiet. The Chef's helper continued talking while his body was turned away. In the meantime, I stared at the movement his shoulders made while he washed and dried the plates. Strands of his short, dark-blond hair fell in place, just above his neck.

When Gilcome had finished setting the dishes aside, he turned to face me and a sign of relief appeared on his face; a smile. Quickly, it became a conceited smile, and I became aware of myself; of the way in which I had been observing him. So I looked away trying to hide the shame. Gilcome walked around the counter top, moving closer to me. Then he wiped both hands on his gray-plaid pants. "I am so very sorry, June." He stretched his hand in front of me. "This is your first time in the kitchen, how inconsiderate of me. We don't even know each other and I've just dropped all my problems on you. Allow me to start over." He pleaded.

My hand stretched to meet his. "Certainly," I giggled before his shiny sapphire eyes, noticing hints of light-grays, highlighting the clean, blue color that made his glance piercingly honest.

"June Corpelle, I am Grant Gilcome–here to serve you. Please accept my apologies." Gilcome's cheerful smile remained unaltered, enchanting.

"Those won't be necessary, but thank you." The shame should have been mine, aside from the hypnotized staring, I had barged in, disrupting his routine.

"There must be something I can do for you. Why did you come to the House today? Is there something you need, maybe I can help?" His eyes narrowed, searching my face. The reason for the visit had slipped my mind. Paralyzed by his question, I tried to remember.

"Umm...yes. Ms. Baynes—can you tell me where she is?"

"She's in the living room. Let me take you." Gilcome removed his apron and hung it on a hook next to the pantry.

"That's alright. I've taken too much of your time already." In the hurry to reach Ms. Baynes, a clumsy nervousness caused me to stumble on a floor vase placed beneath the counter top. The vase wobbled from left to right, about to fall into pieces against the white floor. Grant's hand was close enough to set the vase in place. He had saved me and was aware. It showed on the playful expression of his face when I thanked him in a whisper. "You want to leave that fast?" Then Gilcome called my name and his voice glued me to floor. "June..." My body was facing him, but Gilcome didn't speak. As I had done minutes ago, his eyes now studied me before reaching my glance, "Please come by soon... in case you're hungry."

***

Ms. Baynes stood to the side of the bamboo windows as she arranged the white curtains. The living room had been put back to normal, to its simple, clean style. "Thought that was your voice, but wasn't sure if it was you. Nice to see you back." Without a warning she welcomed me by squeezing my body against her chest. Somehow Ms. Baynes knew I had what she wanted, her eyes fixed on my bag. "Follow me to the front garden, there we can speak freely." The jingling sound coming from Ms. Baynes keys acted as a guide while I indulged in the raw beauty of the House. She opened the garden door. We walked on the fresh, wet grass and reached the outdoor furniture.

"What is it? You look like you could use an ear or two." She adjusted her dress and sat on the white-metal bench. After taking a spot next to her I thanked her for inviting me to the dinner party and apologized for leaving so early. She insisted there was nothing to apologize for. "Do you realize, June—" she held my hands—"How important you are to us? The wait's been long. This House has stood empty and forgotten for such a long time, and your interest has revived our hopes." After such statement, a reply would have sounded silly because I didn't have a clue as to what she meant. So I handed the picture over as a response. "Netania's photo, oh she'll be so glad." Ms. Baynes observed the picture carefully, "Hmm."

"Is it not the right one?"

"No...well yes. It's the right one. See—this is Netania," she pointed out. "I see why I gave it to you in the first place. This other girl looks very much like you. But she's Netania sister, so there's no way."

Maybe I should not have, but I explained how the picture could be related to my family. Afterward a dim smile appeared on her face, receiving my words as a confirmation. "Would it be possible to talk to her, see if my suspicions are true?"

Ms. Baynes' demeanor darkened. Almost as if it pained her to deny me the right, but she did anyways. Netania was very busy with the upcoming flower show. Too many arrangements to prepare and still she had to plant and take care of several trees around the House. It was a simple question which wouldn't take much of her time. But it wasn't time that concerned Ms. Baynes. Apparently, Netania was emotionally connected to her plants, and discovering this new relationship could take a toll on her and her flowers. I couldn't imagine how important the flower show was to the members or to Netania. Certainly it wasn't my intention to sabotage her moment. "When she's stressed, sad or angry, her plants show...the plants die. All of them."

"What about after the show, then?"

"Not sure, June. All these trees around the House have been planted by her, they are hers. Surely we wouldn't want a plant-less house."

Am I then never to speak to her about my doubts, the possibility that she is my aunt? A feeling of panic visited me, having given Ms. Baynes the drawing left no evidence supporting the truthfulness of my words. It had been a mistake to return the drawing to her without confirming my relationship to Netania. Now there was no proof.

"In my opinion, clearly, you must talk to her. However, I ask you to get to know her first, bond, form a base for this future relationship, if nothing else."

"How?" Not telling her right away paved the way for deceit. Ms. Baynes knew Netania, though; she knew what would be best, and I trusted her. There was no reason not to do so, not at the moment. From her pocket, the Housekeeper pulled out a box, about six inches all around. It was adorned with deep-blue, crystal stones. A thin, gold metal held the stones in place.

"Here," she placed the box in my hands. "This precious thing has been waiting in my pocket for a long time. Inside there is a seed and a liquid. You must plant the seed in line, next to the trees over by the west side of the House."

"Why?" The request was odd and slightly insensitive. How could she send me out to plant a seed when my family was crumbling down? "How will that help? Are you sure Netania will appreciate planting on her garden?"

"Immensely! That is the last Member Seed, and must be planted. She's been waiting to do it for a long time, but the flower show has taken so much of her time. I told her I would keep it until the time was right. Netania will be so thankful."

"The last seed?"

"These seeds are important to the members and are part of the history of the House. They were left by Dez and must be planted because they complete his House."

"Then, of course. I want to be useful to the House." How hard could it be?

Taking a sigh of relief, Ms. Baynes closed her eyes and smiled. "The seed must be planted at night, with the full moon's light. If the seed is exposed to any other light source, such as the sun, it will be destroyed. Everything needed is in the box—oh and you must come alone."

While listening to Ms. Baynes' instructions, it became clear that I had taken on a full task, now there was no going back. "When must it be planted?"

"As soon as possible but not until there's a full moon...hmm, tonight might be the perfect night. Make sure and do it." Ms. Baynes was convinced that helping Netania garden would ease the shock. I exited the House through the kitchen. Gilcome was still there, so was Chef Zorga; he had finally decided to show up and was jotting down ingredients for the messenger to buy. He kindly greeted me, before saying that I was always welcomed in his kitchen, with one condition; no touching...of anything.

***

Ms. Baynes had been right. Confirmed by the town's meteorology website, the night was going to be clear and lit by a bright, full moon. The suddenness of the act left little time for questioning. Yes, planting at night might have seemed a bit bizarre, but the seed was special and I liked to think that special things should not be normal. Everything needed was in the box, nothing more; no water, no tools.

The night fell silently, my aunt and Leev left to their bedrooms and I retreated to the House for my first ever gardening lesson. Crystals on the box reflected the moonlight, creating a visible path across the House's gardens. The straight line of trees assured me I had reached the West Garden. At first it was difficult to read the paper inside of the box, but soon, the words almost appeared to glow in the dark. Somehow the significance of the directions dazed me. The letters danced around in my head and transformed into a sort of hieroglyph. I was able to murmur them under my breath, having never seen them before. As the words were uttered I felt like my voice had transcended me. It grew powerful, while my body fell small, but before I could feel weak, it soaked me with its strength, filling an unknown void that had been widening for years. Fear, then, manifested itself. Someone was watching from inside the House, spying. The glow of the candlelight was visible from behind the sixth tree in line, where I stood, meters away from the House. My hands wobbled causing the box to fall and break open. The crashing sound pierced my ears. Impossible to see where it had landed, I tried to feel for it with my hands. Soon, I encountered the pointy rock where the box had landed and shattered on impact. The effort was lost. Finally, my good sense stroke. It was the middle of the night and darkness hugged me intensely. How could she have asked me to do this? Why had I agreed?

***

"June! Have you gotten any calls yet?" Aunt Marcelle yelled from the top of the stairs.

"No," I replied, feeling the pounding effects of a sleepless night. "You never gave him my number, remember? He was only to contact you."

"—yes, mom, just have your phone handy. He'll call soon enough." Leev smirked while rolling her eyes. "Think this guy is going to give us good news?" She asked me.

"Not a chance, so don't encourage her." All efforts in communicating with Fexorrous and reaching my parents had failed. Aunt Marcelle had hired an investigator said to be able to find anyone in need of finding. I had doused all hopes of finding my parents, after all, they had been gone for years. If they couldn't have been found then, who would be able to find them now? Aunt Marcelle was set on the idea of trying, partly because she was coated in guilt from the past. She was desperate, but not desperate enough to give up. She could have contacted other family members but decided against it as a precaution, and she wouldn't get Granny involved, not this time, not yet.

"Girls," Aunt Marcelle came down, "we better get out, breathe pure air and relax. Whatever happens now, the worst, I think, is behind us."

"Perfect, couldn't agree more." Leev approved. "You'll see, all this matter will get resolved. If it doesn't we still have each other. We'll always have each other."

"Great, how 'bout we go to the Flower Show?" Aunt Marcelle proposed.

"Flower Show?" Soon, it seemed too soon. After the planting incident, it had been hard to visit the House, how could I face them? The day after, I had developed a strange rash on my left hand. At first I thought it might have been a reaction to a poisonous plant or maybe a scratch. With the hours, the rash began to eat through my skin, leaving it raw and open. Afraid, I bandaged my own hand and did my best to keep it under a towel, or cloth at all times, so that Leev or Aunt Marcelle wouldn't have to worry about it. Every night, I undid the bandage, wishing for the wound to heal on its own, but the rotten tissue continued to spread. I had no idea what to do. The box had been the destroyed, the seed had been lost and no one was to blame but me. For Netania's sake I had agreed to keep quiet about the photo, at least until the Flower Show ended. But the secret and the not knowing ate at me. Was she or wasn't she? If she was, why had she hidden so vigorously from us?

"June, won't Mr. Kostas need you there?" Aunt Marcelle asked.

"Yes. I have a morning shift."

"Not sure why it'll be celebrated there this year, instead of the central square, but anyways, the Park is a great location. This is my favorite town event! I promise it'll be fun, girls."

"We've already agreed mom, you don't have to convince us."

The show was early in the afternoon. I arrived before my aunt and cousin to help Kostas arrange the stands. Before my shift, I removed the bandage to let the wound breathe and also to draw less attention, since I didn't have anything to hide my hand under. The Park had flourished with the flowers and the embellishments, but the people made it glow. In the middle of the summer this refreshing ambiance tasted like springtime. Multiple exhibits adorned the paths, each labeled with the artist's name. Netania's was magical. I knew little of flowers, but her arrangements and intricate weaving of bright leaves and loose petals astonished me. Her place wasn't crowded like the others and spectators didn't turn their heads towards it, but I couldn't stop looking. Her exhibit was a calling to eyes. Of course, it was a disappointment not to see her stand by her work, then again, it wasn't a surprise; the members never left the House.

"June," Kostas reached me just before the coronation and buying started. "Someone left this for you earlier." He handed me a small envelope.

"Did you see who left it?" Whoever wanted to reach me could have done so at my house. Why would anyone leave an envelope for me at the Park?

"Never seen him before. Honestly, with all the flowers and distractions I couldn't catch his face. There was a pesky attitude about him. He wouldn't leave until I promised to hand this to you, so whatever is in there must be important. Better deal with it right away."

Kostas left me alone to read the message. It was from Ms. Baynes, I couldn't remember telling her where to reach me, but how else would she have known? The paper read that something had happened at the House which required my presence. "What's that?" Leev had caught up with me and was now looking over my shoulder.

"Something's come up at the House."

"No, the gash on your hand." She moved forward to take a closer peek. "Looks like a decent sized cut, how did you get it?"

"Not sure, probably in the morning." I moved the hand out of sight so that she couldn't see the extent of it. "With all those gardening tools around, who knows?—would you tell Aunt Marcelle not to wait for me. The House needs me." Leev shouldn't have to worry about me anymore, she had enough to concern herself with; we all did. Having gone to the House at night, by myself, without anyone's knowledge and losing the seed, felt like the beginning of doomsday. In hindsight, accepting Ms. Baynes' invitation to plant the seed felt illicit and regretful.

Leev took the paper from me but handed it back quickly, "Of course" Leev sneered. "And you know because they sent you a telegram, how cute– On a serious note now, it would make my mother the happiest person if this ordeal came to an end already. Those investigators she's been hiring are only taking her money. There's no hope of finding your mother." She paused. "I'm sorry, that didn't come out right."

"Don't worry." I placed a hand on her shoulder trying to comfort her, feeling pleased that the letter took her mind off my hand. "If it weren't for Netania I would feel hopeless too. Maybe she could answer some of our questions connecting her to my mother. She has to know something." Netania was our last hope. But it was foolish to indulge our thoughts. We couldn't be sure Netania had ever been in my mother's life. Maybe she didn't even know she had a sister, or what had become of her. The odds of her knowing anything about my mother's disappearance were small but not small enough to ignore.

Walking back to the House, I remembered what my life was before it. If only time could be reversed, I would have never taken interest in that House. Not knowing can be the best gift given and it was now that I appreciated all Aunt Marcelle had done for us. But thinking of impossible things wouldn't help and even if time could be turned, my interest in the House would be inevitable, as I would soon learn.

***

Mr. Zorga opened the side door and signaled for Gilcome to come out. "Look who it is! Our newest member. –June, we greatly appreciate what you are doing. Thank you, kiddo." Zorga patted my back. Gilcome warmly smiled, staying behind the Chef.

"Well, catch you later. Jacknell promised to carve out more shelves for the pantry." After Mr. Zorga had gone, Gilcome looked my way, slightly pulling his lips upwards.

"What?" I silently asked. Something wasn't right.

Gilcome's eyes narrowed and his gaze engaged me. "What do you mean 'what'?" Don't act so humble." He opened the oven door and took out a tray of cherry tarts. "—Here." Quickly, Gilcome placed one of the golden, cherry tarts on a dish and slid it over the counter separating us. "Tell me if you like it. This is my second batch. I'm trying to convince Zorga to sell them on his bakery shop."

"I'm impressed. Zorga asked for a second batch?" The tart felt warm against my unwounded hand.

"Eh, I burnt the first one, doubt he would let me sell those. I'm not a baker, June, nor do I plan on being one, but everyone has to start somewhere. Zorga might be harsh and conceited but he is a food 'genius', as he calls himself, and he is giving me my start."

"Uff, now you've got me nervous, sure this is safe to eat?" I held back a giggle.

Gilcome raised an eyebrow, his face hardened. "Are you implying something?" He walked around the counter. "Am I that bad?" A smile finally broke through.

"Just a joke. See," The bite dissolved in my mouth.

"I would hate for you to be my first casualty." Gilcome leaned forward, closer to me. The cherry scent in his hair drowned my senses in sweetness. He reached for the oven tray and grabbed another pastry. Once he had swallowed his first bite he asked, "What happened to your hand, experimenting in the kitchen?" Before I could reply, Gilcome had taken my hand into his. "June, this looks infected," He was right, it didn't look so well and the strength of his hand surrounding the wound created a piercing burn, spreading deeper and deeper to the bone. I winced with pain, not wanting to pull my hand away from his, out of curtsey.

"Forgive me, I didn't mean to—don't move. I'll fix this." Gilcome came back from the pantry with a flask. "This won't hurt one bit, maybe a quick sting but—"

"No." This time, without shame, my hand slid away from him in a frenzy. I would not subject my body to any more pain. If a single drop of water created a disturbance of electrifying pain receptors all through my body, what would this drop feel like? To him, it could be just a sting, but to my hand it would feel like the stab of a dull dagger through the middle of my hand, breaking through bones and tissue. It would feel like a drop of acid, slowly corroding and eating through me. "No, please." I shielded myself from him, not wanting to look forward.

Gilcome bent his head sideways taking in my reaction. He pulled a stool next to me, with the intention of not giving up. "June."

"No. It'll hurt." I finally admitted. It had been almost a week since the wound first appeared. I don't know why I had denied its existence, perhaps maybe I had been embarrassed. The wound had decided not to go away unacknowledged. The more I ignored it, the angrier it became. Now, it oozed out of control, spilling its pain, out and beneath; creating the fear of losing my hand.

"June. Please, let me heal you." Gilcome understood the gravity of the wound, he had been the only one to take a close look at it. He grasped my hand once again and said. "Trust me." Gilcome continued to blend the liquid with a water solution while his request bounced around in my head. Trust him, based on what? We didn't know each other, not really. He shouldn't have asked to begin with. He had no right to do so. However, I did; I trusted him and everyone in this House, or at least, I felt like I had to, although I didn't want to. Sitting there, all my will had been snatched by the House. Finally, Gilcome placed a few drops on the wound. A refreshing sting spread along the broken tissue, forming a cool layer over it. He looked into my eyes to make sure I was alright. "See," he whispered. "I told you it wouldn't hurt. I would never want that." With care, Gilcome placed my hand back on my lap and he stood to put the flask away.

"Thank you." Once again I found myself speechless in front of him, taking in the meaning of his actions and what they said about his character. While worried about not looking stupid in the eyes of a boy I had met a few weeks ago, Gilcome had tenderly cared for a wounded hand, though I refused at first. The stubborn words made no difference to him, because he knew I couldn't resist wishes from anyone in the House because it held control over me, somehow.

"It was my pleasure to help. What's that look for?"

"What look?" Had I been staring again? No, I hadn't. After my last visit I had made sure not to.

"It's like you're hiding something. You can't even stand to look at me. Tell me if I'm wrong, but I seem to remember you taking an interest in my appearance before? Don't I look handsome enough for you, today?"

"What? No. You're wrong." Quickly, I snapped back. How dared he? Gilcome was wrong! I had taken no interest in anything of his—maybe only his cooking, which wasn't even very good. How could he suggest... My overreaction was out of place. He had been pointing out what was obvious to him even if it hadn't been obvious to me. It was an outrage not to know about yourself what others scoffed in midair.

Gilcome sighed, "So my appearance is pleasing you." He breathed a sneering smile. "I was beginning to worry."

"What? No. Yes. No, no. I mean no. What? — First, I did not take an interest in your looks or anything."

"Now you're blushing." Gilcome laughed, it was a sweet laugh. He enjoyed the reaction the comments were getting from me.

"I am not, most definitely not. Must be the tart."

"Relax, it was a joke. It's so easy to push your buttons, June." His teasing laugh became more obvious. "Now, will you tell me why you've been distracted?"

Who wouldn't be distracted? No, not because of Gilcome but because of my parents and the House, the box and the seed and the wound...now that message! The message Kostas handed me read that my presence was needed at the House, yet there seemed to be nothing of importance requiring my attention. "Two of your cherry desserts are missing. What will Chef Zorga have to say about that?"

Gilcome scoffed. "Don't you dare change the subject. I won't let you get away with it."

Before I could reply he continued. "Now you care about my fate in Mr. Zorga's kitchen?" His head shook, acting somewhat annoyed, he said: "Besides, after what you're doing for us all, I doubt Zorga will have anything to say about a simple tart." Grant was right, Zorga had greeted me in a weird way today. "By the look in your face I would swear you had no idea?" His eyes focused on my face as I ate what was left of the pastry. "Unbelievable! They haven't told you, have they?—Wait." Gilcome's anger intensified. "Is that how you injured your hand?" He could not fathom his own thoughts, and so he didn't express them. "This is serious. Go talk to Ms. Baynes right away. She's in the living room, go!" The tone of Gilcome's voice worried me. Was I supposed to know? Had I forgotten?

"How could they have done this?" His murmurs poked my curiosity, instigating fear.

My brain replayed Gilcome's words over and over while walking towards the living room. Ms. Baynes was sitting, holding a large book bound and covered by metal plates. She looked up at me when I stepped in front of her. "June, you've come!"

"Yes, you sent for me...didn't you?"

"Of course, yes." She placed the book on the coffee table facing her chair. "Take a seat. The time has come for this conversation to take place. I pray you will understand."

"Let's hope so, because Mr. Zorga and Gilcome have already been thanking me for...something. Ms. Baynes, I haven't done anything special and this smells like trouble."

"Breathe," Ms. Baynes interrupted.

"No, I need someone to listen." Everyone's problems always found a tricky way of becoming my problems, and mine were only mine. "It's time someone listens."

"Precisely, but you must listen first. Your aunt is the topic of our chat." Why would she want to speak about Aunt Marcelle? My aunt wanted nothing to do with Ms. Baynes, unless she had a way of finding my mother. "Netania, your aunt," Ms. Baynes explained.

"Netania? But."

"Yes, June. She's asked for you."

"You told her?" Rage flowed through my body and warmed my blood. Ms. Baynes had no right to tell her. We weren't even sure Netania was my aunt.

"No, it wouldn't have been my place, June. Don't you know me?" Her eyes searched for an answer, one which I couldn't find. The way she had asked bothered me. It was a manipulating question. Repeating the right answers long enough would overtake my doubts and convince me that I knew her and her motives. However as the argument came to an end, it was doubtful Ms. Baynes wanted to harm me; I already knew her.

"No one told me, June." Netania herself, walked from behind and stood close to me. "I've always known."

I couldn't look at her, so I stared at her yellow dress, stained with a grassy color and mud tracks that ran across its bottom. Listening to her was making me sick. Who were these people?

"June. Listen," She sat beside me. "Look at me, June. As hard as this is, what is coming is harder to face. Be strong."

"How's it possible? You knew I was your niece since I stepped foot here? Why, how?" Netania had never seen me before, her name had never been mentioned at home. Aunt Marcelle didn't even know her well enough.

"There's no time for that story now. June, we–"

"I'm sorry Netania, but you owe me at least that!" Time? There was all the time in the world. I wasn't leaving until I had heard everything.

Her face stiffened "I don't make the rules, but you have to learn them...now." Netania, the Gardener, was humble and nicer than Netania my supposed aunt.

–"Rules?"

"Yes, rules. It is understandable that you are in shock and confused but I would appreciate if you would stop interrupting me." Interrupting her? Who did she think she was? I didn't have to listen to her or anyone else in that House. Ms. Baynes sitting in a corner of the room with a blank expression, hadn't moved a finger to support or defend me.

"You have to be strong," Netania touched my shoulder. "We need you to be, for us and the House. You must help us."

"Help you? After all this, the lies and the games. What makes you think I'll ever come here again?"

"As a member of the House of Dez, you are required to serve here."

"A what?" It sounded like a joke, but her face didn't show it.

"June, you planted the last Member's Tree, it grew with your blood. The tree made you a member. Members serve the House."

"No, I didn't. What tree?"

"We saw you, June. That night, the seed was released and a drop of your blood fell on it. The tree grew. As a member of the House you must help. June, we have been waiting for you to come to us; finally we can help Dez and move on with our lives. Time is running out and Dez needs us."

"Got it."

"Yeah?" Netania smiled, "Great June, I knew it."

"You've all lost your mind. This is a mad House." I stood up and walked towards the front door. "Thank you for your membership or whatever, but I'm canceling. There's enough weirdness in my life at the moment. If I run out I'll be sure to contact you."

"June," Ms. Baynes interrupted. "You can mock us because we are part of the House, but you can't abandon us because you are part of it too. Maybe Netania wasn't clear enough, but you have to agree to help us."

"Then, Ms. Baynes, just to be clear, what if I don't want to?" I turned to face her and stressed my words loudly.

"Oh you'll want to," Ms. Baynes sneered. "Dez is the only person able to help Edda, but if he isn't here, he can't help her. I imagine you would want to help your mother, right?"

"Oh my mother needs your help now?"

"The Patrol didn't just come for them. It's here to take us all but mostly to take you." Ms. Baynes' face became hardened by her words. She was the dictator's right hand, the one brainwashing them into believing that a world of lies existed outside this realm. Since becoming a member, my brain had been, also, sunk in foul water. Their disappearance was my fault but Ms. Baynes could not dare to say the words. Why did the House want me, why did the Patrol?

"What is she saying?" I walked closer to Netania.

"June, if you want to see my sister and Len again, you need to help us."

***

She knew where my mother was, Netania would take us to her.

It was surprising to hear Netania speak of my mother, how much she knew of her. Netania's warming glance studied me. She was an open book, there was love in her eyes, pure love, but it was tainted by fear, maybe sadness. I reminded her of Edda.

As the conversation intensified, she and I walked to the gardens where we could have more privacy. Her expressions were harder to read as the sun began to set under the side trees. An extra tree now stood over the empty space where I had tried to plant the seed. It had grown incredibly quick, reaching the same height as the others. With my blood it had grown, the blood escaping from the cut in my hand. The House was made up of the members' blood; they were bound by blood and so was I.

That afternoon my world collapsed into Netania's as I learned the truth, her truth. They had been taken, five years ago, by the Prymm Patrol of Fexorrous. Netania didn't explain why they had been taken or who the Patrol was, but I had already known. She emphasized the only way to get them back. Dez, the man who had created the House, needed to be contacted and brought back to the House. He was the only one who could bring them back. I possessed something he needed, which possibly the Patrol wanted as well. Netania mentioned that most likely, Dez, would be at a place called Sine Venefeicus, in between worlds, a place without energy, without magic.

Nothing made sense that night, but there was no other choice, I couldn't see one if there was. My best option was to stick with Netania's plan, because at least I was part of it; surely I had some control...well, until that Dez guy took over. My parents' lives were on his hands for all I knew, that's if I succeeded in bringing him back.

Chapter Seven

Leev waited for me outside Aunt Marcelle's house. "My mom needs to talk to you. It's about your parents."

"My parents?" A glimmer of hope. They hadn't been taken; my aunt had found out where they were. But every last drop of hope was sucked by Leev's depressing tone.

"Granny came by about two hours ago," she said. Her eyes were half opened and red.

Grandma Rose would make everything alright again, she always did. I needed her to tell me all would be fine. "Granny's home?" Leev's grandmother lived a few miles from town. She didn't visit often but when she did, it was an event. During the wintertime, while Aunt Marcelle slept, the three of us would camp out in the living room, treating ourselves to Granny's baked cookies. Just before bedtime we listened to her tales. Always stories of a land far away, different from ours. It was special, and magical. Late at night, it was tempting to picture what Granny's land looked like, but every time sleep would win over. "Leev, we have so many questions for her. Everything she said about Fexorrous, everything is true. Let's–"

"No, June," Leev stopped me. "Granny's gone already."

"Why didn't she wait to see me?"

"She didn't come to visit. Granny came to tell my mother she had to carry out with the next step. The one where you move in with them." We entered and walked to the living room, Granny's perfume lingered in the air. Leev threw her arms around me and sobbed. "I won't let them do this to you, it's not fair." She managed to say in between breaths.

Aunt Marcelle walked inside from the backyard. "Leev! I cannot believe you. We had agreed to do this the right way. Don't start this again."

"What way is the right way? How could you do this to June, we're her family." Leev had been possessed by anger. More than anger, it was disappointment. She seemed wounded and desperate.

"June, sit down." Aunt Marcelle guided me to the sofa. "Our house's barrier has been exhausted. If we continue to keep you here...they'll find us."

–"And now you have to go live in that House. The way it came into our life was creepy and unnatural. " Leev interrupted again. "The one with all those weirdoes and Ms. Baynes—Oh and your new aunt–Did you hear that mom? The aunt we just met two seconds ago."

"Stop it! Why are you making this so difficult? Didn't you hear your grandmother?"

"Oh please, Granny can say whatever she wants. She's crazy too. How 'bout she goes to live there herself?"

"I'm sorry, June." Aunt Marcelle covered her face. "This is the only way. Granny has done things I do not agree with, but our interests have always come first to her. Their House will keep you protected and there might be a way to reach your parents through it... I'm sorry." She was sorry, sorry because she had not been part of Granny's plan, because Granny had betrayed her. All this time Leev's grandmother had been calling the shots and Aunt Marcelle was only a piece of the puzzle, just like I was. But to what ends?

"The House needs me. Leev, as much as I would like to agree with you, I can't. The members are the only hope for me and my parents. There is a man, a powerful man, he can bring my parents back. I have to go. Netania's already told me most of it."

"No, she hasn't." Aunt Marcelle revealed. "Not all of it and Leev doesn't understand the importance of that House and those people. June, your parents were taken a long time ago. That's why you came to live with me, because Granny created a barrier for us to be protected from the Patrol. As you probably know the barrier is a container for power and energy. Our family is from a place where people are powerful, very powerful, June, in ways you couldn't understand. Edda and I moved here to live a better life, free from persecution and energy-sucking leeches whom called themselves lawmen. If the Patrol takes me back, I will be killed, or worst. We can't go back there." A place called Fexorrous.

"Mom?" Leev now spoke in a serious tone, "What do you mean by power?"

"Magic," I answered. We all had it, and as I said the word, it sped through my veins. Its flow was light and fresh, yet as strong as the anger felt towards everything I had ever contacted. Anger because Granny's efforts to protect our family had caused me to hate my parents. Knowing that I had never shown any concern for them revolted me and it was too late to mourn their disappearance because they had been gone for most of my life. The Patrol had always been looking for me, for me, not for my parents. That twisted my insides.

"Something like Magic, yes." Aunt Marcelle confirmed, "All in the family contain some of this energy. The energy can grow overtime and this is what is happening to June. Our barrier broke because it couldn't contain the increase in energy of our house. That's why she has to move to Dez' House, their barrier is expandable."

"Then I'm going with her," Leev stated. "We can't leave her alone."

"It doesn't work like that, Leev. Only people with June's capacity can live there. Otherwise their combined energies will crush you overtime. You must come with Granny and me, until she can come up with a better plan. Leev, your cousin is in grave danger and the House is her only hope."

"What danger?" Leev stood up. "How come you know so much about that House?"

"Hasn't it crossed your mind that this was hard for me too? But unlike you, I cannot take time to process and protest, because what's coming, is coming and soon. Your grandmother has connections with them; the members of the House are of our kind. They will help us; they're the only ones that can."

The conversation soon died down and the three of us moved to my room to pack my belongings. I was leaving in the morning.

***

"Good morning, June." Ms. Baynes answered the door while the rest of the members stood behind her and watched while I said goodbye to Aunt Marcelle and Leev.

"You can come in as well, if you wish," Ms. Baynes encouraged them. "Our powers won't hurt you, not unless you stay here forever."

"We know. It is just better this way–June, we promise to visit whenever there's time." They walked back. I watched as they reached the road and drove away.

"Everyone, off to your stations, we have a long day today!" The members dispersed while Ms. Baynes and I remained alone.

"June, it is my duty to inform you that from now on, the House will not allow you to exit its grounds, do you understand?" After a nod from my head, Ms. Baynes continued, "Follow me." The Housekeeper directed me to the living room. Once there, she entered the obscure hall.

"Where are we going Ms. Baynes?" The sound of the dangling keys around her neck guided my steps once again.

"Just follow me, and don't get distracted." She answered.

"Ms. Baynes?"

"Yes, dear?"

"Do you think this will work, bringing back Dez?" It was the first time I had questioned the plan, because now I was part of it, and more than anything it had to work. All my life, I had been a zombie; following every given rule even if it went against me. How had I ended up here, imprisoned by a house, when all I wanted was to run freely on the Plains?

"It has to. Dez is our only hope. For the members this House is a prison too, this whole world is. To be where I belong is my heart's wish, to be with the ones left behind. But those times were destroyed, along with many of the ones who stayed. Dez must return to the House, not only to save your parents, but to save our land from the evil that is killing it." Ms. Baynes sighed while still leading me further into the Dark Hall.

"That man, Lord Seb Creat?"

"Not necessarily, there's plenty of evil plaguing Fexorrous. Creat is but one battle standing in our way—and June, please don't call him a man, he isn't. Creat is a monstrous leech whose unquenchable hunger for power will, one day, become his demise. That will be our advantage, Dez' advantage." The lack of light impeded my eyes from noticing it, but the hopeful vibe of her tone, signaled a triumphant smile.

From speaking with Netania I knew little facts about this man called Dez. He was important to the members not only because he had created this House but because Dez was powerful. The members were part of the House but it was hard to tell if they were like Dez, or more human-like. These thoughts blew away all remaining notions of humanity and about my family. Aunt Marcelle had explained that the members were of her kind. If the members did not belong here, neither did my family. How could the members not be from this world when they appeared as the basic example of a human being? Ms. Baynes was strange and, at times unreasonably happy. Mr. Zorga was prideful and Netania caring. Jacknell was mysterious, quiet and possibly carried a silent burden. Gilcome...he was just Gilcome; a little self-absorbed but, he was pleasant and helpful. The members and I were not all that different, I was still a human and they...well if they weren't human, they were close to being so. I wondered if asking would be an insult so I didn't.

The words energy and power were used interchangeably in the House and mostly they were used to describe Dez and his abilities. Because Dez had frozen himself in a dimension different from where my parents had been taken to, the task of bringing them back was greatly ambitious, even for Dez; especially for Dez. The man had been asleep for half a century or who knows how many years. How was he to know of the present world? What connections would he have, other than the House? Would he still have possession of his so called powers? The return of my parents gravely depended on the state of Dez' abilities after his awakening.

There was much about his life which interested me. Why Dez had frozen himself, continued to be a mystery, as was the reason why the members appeared to be so attached to him. I feared that none of them truly knew him. They did not understand why or how he disappeared from the House. Yet his return to the House was enough to keep them breathing, knowing that one day, no matter how far into the future, Dez will once again command the House.

"What made you believe that I would be the one to bring Dez back?" Dez had known that the combined energy of the members was not enough to bring him back to the House. He was sure I, would one day, join the members.

"Aside from the fact that you need Dez to help your parents? Well, June, Dez has many friends outside the House and they get things done. He is able to, briefly, communicate with those whom he chooses."

"You mean like Granny? She had everything to do with me moving here...moving to town and to the House. Are you friends?"

"No, but Dez knew her very well." Ms. Baynes explained. "Rose, was also a resident of Fexorrous."

"–Are we there yet?" I changed the topic, eager to exit the darkness of the Hall.

"Almost there, be patient, June."

"I'm doing my best, except we're walking in total darkness. Are you sure we're going the right way? The walls feel so far apart, it's impossible to balance on them."

"That's because there are no walls. I've walked by here many times. It takes time and energy for one to master this room, but it is possible."

"No walls? What kind of hall is this?" Carefully, my feet moved to the sound of the keys jiggling around the Housekeeper's neck.

"It does not belong to a kind," she responded. "But many kinds are in this hall. You see, June, this hall leads to places of different kinds, of all kinds. That's why we must be cautious. You don't want to end up where you don't belong." The dangling stopped. "–Oh, here we are." Ms. Baynes stood to the side, letting me walk in front to take in the view of the room.

Slowly, the light glided into my eyes. There was an open area in the center; silver staircases ran on both sides; purple carpets covered the middle portions. The ground was soft, accommodating my footsteps as I walked. The floor looked similar to a checkers board. A golden, colossal chandelier adorned the middle of the ruby-red, fluffy ceiling. Columns stood on the far side of the room, each incrusted with deep-green emeralds. Exposed halls were visible from the bottom, where I stood. There was a series of upside-down doors along the sidewalls. The room was glorious and full of life.

"You must pick a room, all the members have one. Here is where you will sleep, on this side of the House." Ms. Baynes pulled up her orange dress and placed her foot on one of the silvery steps. "What are you waiting for, dear? C'mon."

Once we had made it to the second level, she lightly grabbed me by the arm and said, "Any door that's not taken can be yours. Through the door you will find a safe place, one that can contain your energy. The place can be altered as you wish, once inside you'll understand what I mean."

"All the members sleep in there, why are they upside down?" The doors had the focus of my attention.

"Not sure," Ms. Baynes admitted, "They are similar to any other room, however the architecture is different. Still, I'm uncertain as to why Dez decided to twist them downwards."

"So can I just pick any door? How do I know which one is taken?"

"The door will pick you, it will sense your energy. But, June..." she paused. "There are things you must know first." The Housekeeper walked in front, murmuring.

"–Ms. Baynes, these are beautiful." The dark wood glistened as we moved past them. Dez was a brilliant craftsman, an artist. He had created a habitat for his kind by embellishing every detail of his House. Still, startled by the sparkling wood, I remained behind, caressing it. Its warmth conducted steam through my skin.

"June?" Ms. Baynes looked back. "Why have you done that?" Her voice rose and the air turned crispy when a hint of panic oozed through her stare. "Before touching any door there are a series of steps that must be followed." The Housekeeper's hand covered her mouth to hide the horror in her face, "Oh dear."

A ticklish feeling took hold of the palm of my hand. I pulled it back away from the door, but it was stuck. A second attempt at freeing my hand resulted in a magnetic pull. "What is happening to me?"

"The door will suck all the energy out of your body and store it inside." After her words, shocks were delivered to my hand, they were short and sharp, penetrating the skin like glass fragments.

"Make it stop. Please." Begging was of no use. The Housekeeper was not willing to help. She had lured me here to be killed. They would steal my energy!

"It will hurt, June. Like nothing you've ever felt before. Your body will lose you, it will die."

"Help me!" My voice broke out, in between breaths. The pressure became heavier and heavier. A revolting feeling took over my brain. I summoned what was left of my strength and pulled once more in desperation. This time, my balance was lost and the free hand fell on the door. Seeing the way my body had been trapped, the Door became a monster, a demon. Determined, I kicked it repeatedly until it shivered and rocked but it wouldn't budge. Then, in a cry, I understood.

"June, stop fighting it!" She spoke from a distance. Her expressions were hard to decipher, but by the tone of her voice I assumed she pitied me.

"How can you let this happen to me? Do something, please. I'm begging." The pain intensified. Electricity exploded through my fingers. Instantly both my hands began to turn purple. The dark color spread quickly, reaching the top of my arms in seconds.

"There's nothing to be done now."

"Someone, someone please. Help! " My screams were not enough. No one would save me. The electrifying ache in my hands had evolved into numbness but the sensation of life being drawn out of me, remained. Powerless, I closed my eyes in a struggle to escape the House, to be free and feel the rough wind of the Plains flow through my hair.

The House was stronger than any of us. We couldn't escape, all of us were trapped in. For a moment, it granted me the wish to dream as my hair was being caressed. However, it wasn't the wind. To my horror, two metallic, skinny creatures stood by my side. The identical creatures were as thin as a piece of thread, almost invisible. Light reflected brightly off their bodies.

"Ms. Baynes?" I called, hoping she was still around witnessing my misery. "What, what are those...those things?" A silent moment passed and I feared she had left me alone, to die. Death had never scared me before, at the moment it was terrifying. Its cold face approached and I wouldn't look at it. There was much needed to be done, and many things left unaccomplished. The world would never know that June Corpelle existed, that I had lived a life...that I, somehow, mattered. So it was my decision to turn my face away from her. She wouldn't take me, not now, not until the purpose of my life had been validated. "Ms. Baynes, Ms. Baynes! Did you leave? Why did you leave me?" Not that it would make a difference if she had because Ms. Baynes wasn't going to help me. She and the members must have known this would happen. Their betrayal didn't hurt as much as this, nothing could. These people did not care about me, they had no compassion. They were all monsters. What could be expected from strangers whom pretended to be my friends?

"Strings of light," her voice answered. "They are energy transporters. The strings will carry your"—Ms. Baynes cleared her throat— "lifeless body into the room and then try to infuse it with the energy collected. First they have to rid you of the energy left."

The Housekeeper had mentioned death before, but lifeless? Lifeless was different. Without a life, empty. "No, but, no. I cannot die," My voice was soft, weak. It had given up; unrecognizable and distant. In my mind, I could push the strings away with my hands. "Aunt Marcelle and Leev..." Why was my body giving into the pain? This was how weak I was, a mere human able to surrender all rights to life, because of pain. Weakness, weakness was now the only thing making up what remained of me. But not even weakness would keep me from living, not until my life was worthy of death. My life had to be remembered; a legacy to be revered. In my time of dying it was these selfish and disgusting thoughts which disturbed my soul. How dared I think my life was finer than another's?

"June, your body will die. I said it before, there's nothing to be done now. Without energy there is no life and what's left in you isn't enough to support you. This is what must be done, for the House, for Dez and for your parents. Once the energy is returned to your body the House will receive you again. But the body must be dead or else energy cannot flow into it. The process will be, relatively, quick."

The middle portion of the strings began to split. A yellow beak-looking thing stretched out from the opening. The beak unwrapped and a five-petal, red flower bloomed. The five moist petals, which looked like tentacles touched my skin, causing my body to shake uncontrollably. The force wore me down until my eyes finally closed.

***

A sweet humming stimulated my senses. A woman sat on a chair close to the bed where my body rested. "Goodness, oh goodness you're awake!" Quickly, she stood up and sat next to me on the bed. "Thank the heavens!"

"Is it over. Am I alive...with energy, or whatever?"

"Alive yes, but you need to recuperate, honey. We thought you wouldn't make it."

"Why wouldn't I make it? Haven't you guys done this kind of procedure before? Was there a problem with the strings?"

"No, June, but it's been a month since you entered the room."

"A month? I've been asleep for a month?" A whole month gone by! Ms. Baynes had said it would only take seconds, what had gone wrong?

"For starters, let me remind you that, honey, you weren't asleep, you were dead. When the strings carried your body in, the energy inside overheated not only the room, but the entire House. Our barrier had to expand greatly because of the energy imbalance. Once the energy equalized, the strings slowly infused your body with life."

"How is all of this possible, Netania?" The House and Dez and the energy, it was all too much. I couldn't believe that all of this was real. I wished I were dreaming, maybe even dead; yes, dead. Being dead proved to be a little addictive, it left behind a comfortably, sweet taste. Why should I have to deal with this, why couldn't I have the privilege of being normal. I had never chosen to be a hero and I didn't want to be one. It was easy to drop everyone's problems on me and to name me their savior. Only you can do it, not just for your parents but for us, the members, and our world too. How about for the whole universe while I'm at it, or for existence itself? Then my life would mean something. Something? My mind had changed as it often did, a happy, simple life was my desire now. Why should my life mean something? Something was overrated anyways.

"June, calm down. This has never happened before but it is only because your energy is precious and potent. The House only needed to adjust to it." She grabbed my hands, "everything is fine now, the plan to bring back Dez can safely continue."

Fine? Had she no concern for my life? The House and its members had murdered me! If the strings hadn't been able to re-energize me, my life would have been a petty casualty. They had never been honest with me, barely explaining how the House worked, or who they were, or even how in the world I was going to help Dez come back. They only kept me in the loop because they needed me. The bunch of them were manipulators, stuffed with greed, reckless and without care for anyone but Dez.

"All of the members, myself included, have been in this position. Our bodies were laid lifeless just like yours was. The only difference is that we did it willingly and would gladly do it again because what is at stake is bigger than any of us. A lost life is nothing compared to the sacrifice of others."

"But Netania it isn't just a life lost, it is my life. To me, life is everything I have; otherwise I have nothing because without it I am nothing"—obviously, if you're not alive you're dead— "All I had was on the line, all I could sacrifice. So please do not speak as if I did not help." Maybe I, too, would have given my energy willingly had I known why it was needed. Anyways, the House would have taken it from me, so there was no use in refusing.

"Yet you do not understand. The members did not sacrifice anything because we had faith in the power of the House and knew it could sustain us. Our lives weren't lost and neither was yours and because of the fusion formed with the House we too have gained greater abilities." She smiled slyly.

"What does that mean?" It was undeniable that the House and its members were different. They weren't from this town, or country. Sure, they weren't even from this planet because they had all been residents of Fexorrous at some point, else why the interest in saving that pesky, summer-destroying land. By modern standards the members and the House shouldn't be real. They weren't even part of fictional, modern society; witches, wizards or shape shifters. Well, in truth, I had never asked, so my aunt and the others, could be vampires for all I knew. But they were real; they had to be because I had become one of them.

"For now that mustn't worry you, because you and the rest of us have greater concerns."

"There's more?"

"You should know that Marcelle and Leev came a couple of times to visit while you were in bed, of course they could not enter your door because you were very delicate back then." It was funny how an adventure could cost so much. This one had cost me an old life. Even if none of it had been real, as it had been a life of deception, it was a happy life. I was a blissful ignorant back then. Not much had changed, for I was still living a life of ignorance, however, misery now ruled my mind. So quickly, I had traded my old life, without thinking twice, just to see the House, feel its walls, to live in it. It was my prison now. The three of us would never be the same again, never to be happy together.

"When will I be able to see them?" The moments before I had asked that question were cherished forever. From then on, as Netania spoke, the world changed drastically as every word was uttered.

"Last week, June—" Netania's face hardened and her eyes glistened as she looked away. The sweetness of her voice had been saturated with melted agony. "Last week your cousin Leev was taken." She lowered her head and became silent.

Leev had been taken! Who had taken her, why? "How was that possible? Aunt Marcelle's house was protected, that's why I came here, so that their barrier wouldn't disintegrate. Was it the Patrol? Who took her? Why Leev? Answer Me!" But my questions were empty questions because I knew.

"The Prymm Patrol of Fexorrous took her. Marcelle said Leev was trying to leave the city. Rose and your cousin had an argument and Leev packed her belongings and left with a friend from work. After hours of tracking her down, Marcelle and Rose found Leev in the process of her being drained."

It wasn't like Leev to leave on her own, to run away, to abandon her mother, to abandon me. "We'll find her, right? Just like we'll find my parents. Dez will go through that dimension place thingy and find my cousin. He will, he will! Right, Netania, he will? He'll find Leev!" Trembled hands positioned to the side of my head tried to disguise the fear in my glance.

"Yes, everything that is within his power he will do. But you must understand that most of your cousin's energy was drained before she was taken. It's a new practice which they use to keep their prisoners compliant. Your grandmother saw the change of color in the energy flow as Leev's body was discarded. The change in color only comes through when last drops of energy are close to extraction."

"What does that mean?" The world had become a blur, "Netania, just tell me."

"Leev probably deteriorated quickly after her capture, odds are she is...dead." She is my cousin she cannot be dead. She was gone, but not dead, not dead. Not Leev, no. Why was this happening to my family, what had we done to deserve this? "June, stop moving like that. Sit down."

"Tell me, why this is happening, all of it." Netania walked behind me trying to explain. "She can't be." Leev had been a sister to me, trying to protect me always and I was blind, so blind, not to see she was the one needing my protection. I had failed. What would I do without her? I had no one left now. I was so alone.

"The Royal House has been trying to collect as many of our kind as possible. Our family is part of a special kind, powerful energy runs within us. Energy that can be harnessed and converted into power, magic, potions, spells. We are Carriers. For a long time our kind ruled the land, while some thrived others perished, as it is the norm. When our government was overthrown we were banished and everything about us was deemed sinister. Some of us fled but those who couldn't were hunted down and destroyed. It is rumored that the most powerful ones are kept as slaves for Seb Creat." Netania had sat on the bed, I watched her while still pressed against a corner in the gray room.

"Our energy signatures are strong and can be traced, therefore the barriers were created to provide us with coverage and defuse any signal that might give our location. But the barriers can only do so much. We can be traced even here on Earth. Though Leev wasn't born in our land, her mother and grandmother were. Yet," she bit one of her nails, "I'm still not sure why Leev was taken but your grandmother and Marcelle were not. Their energy signatures should be stronger. The only possible explanation is that Leev was being chased for a long time, without her knowledge. Maybe someone she knew. I have to warn Marcelle."

When Aunt Marcelle and Granny decided that I should come live in the House, Leev wanted to come with, if only she had left with me. My back slid down the wall and I dropped to the floor, rolled up with my head pressed against my knees. I stayed like that for a while. Netania quickly joined me, but I didn't look up. After a few minutes she left but her weeping manifested through the door.

A gleam of colors flashed soon after Netania walked away and her sobbing had disappeared. The walls of the room began to shift colors. Rays of sunlight fell closely, warming my skin. The ceiling had gone and soft clouds wandered above. My hands moved slowly in-between them breaking them apart. The bed had also vanished, in its place laid a massively, tall tree. From the top, a melody sweetly dropped to my ears; thousands of birds singing in harmony. The dewy, green grass was perfect for resting my bare feet. The room wasn't a room anymore, it had turned into a garden of life, yet it felt as dead as I had been before waking up. My senses did not deserve to see and feel beauty when everyone I loved dwelled in misery, drowning in it with every breath.

My parents' disappearance wasn't my fault and neither was Leev's capture. Nothing could be clearer in my head. Guilt, however, visited me as it had visited my aunt; sneaking in when I wasn't looking. He spoke to me while exploring every inch of my thoughts. Then, he sat beside me on the grass. He told me that if I had never found the House, my energy levels wouldn't have increased. Leev had wanted to protect me, but because I had pushed her away, they took her, beat her bloody and drained her, forcefully.

As for my parents? It was my fault they were never around, because I had never needed them enough to care. His cold hand stroked my cheek and he placed a kiss on my forehead. Then, he stood up and walked through a door I hadn't noticed before. After, he walked down the stairs, stepped inside the Dark Hall and disappeared. By then, I had stepped inside the Hall as well, and walked out into the living room on the other side of the House.

***

Most of my days were spent by the gardens with Netania and her plants or in the kitchen watching Gilcome and Mr. Zorga cook. Every day was a struggle; trying not to think of my cousin and my parents. What frustrated me most was not knowing anything about Dez' return. Aunt Marcelle had come to visit me twice. During her last visit we talked about Leev and I begged her to stay by Granny's side as much as possible. The trip to and from the House was dangerous, at this point anything could happen. As painful as it was, it was better not to see them and to know that she and Granny were safe. I would lose my remaining wits if anyone else was taken.

Jacknell, the handy man, peeked into the garden where I was helping Netania water her newly planted flower seeds. "June, I think Gilcome was looking for you in the morning. He said he wanted to show you something." His eyes softly studied Netania as a grin appeared on his face. Jacknell had something on his mind, something he didn't care to share with me.

"It is fine, June, I can finish this up." Netania assured me. She grabbed my watering can and smiled, "Go." It had been an obvious way to get rid of me, so I left them.

Gilcome stood on one side of the kitchen island, his hands buried in flour. "Hey there!"

"Hey yourself. Getting a hand massage?"

"Yes, June." He answered, mockingly. "See, I just read it's the new thing to keep your hands soft. The wonders of flour are endless."

"Oh, finally you've given up cooking! Are you now interested in body care, well maybe instead you should develop a cleaning formula. That would be a good choice, because it seems that every time you're in here there's a mess." I sneered. "What did you want to show me?"

Gilcome lowered his head in disappointment noticing my disinterest. "Um, I'll show you..." He lifted a fist and tossed a handful of flour in my face, "Oops."

"Are you serious? Why would you–"

"If you could see your face," he held his stomach and laughed like a child. "Have a little fun, will you?" Annoyed by my lack of amusement, he shook his head. "You aren't the only one suffering, June."

"Right now, it seems like I am. All of the members can carry on with their day as if nothing in the world has been disturbed. Forgive me if I want to take time to feel sad."

"Stop feeling sorry for yourself. That won't help us. Moping around the corners of the House won't bring back Dez. Dulling your energy will only waste time." These words he said closer to me, watching as my eyes filled with tears. Gilcome wanted a reaction out of me, if he couldn't amuse me, he sure would try to make me cry; the latter was working. "You are supposed to be the one; a great Carrier, a Wielder. Quit acting like you've been dealt the worst hand and make use of what you've got. Be yourself already!" Frustrated, he banged on the counter top, causing my flesh to crawl. "Don't you have me believe this is the real you. Then, we've been, unkindly, mislead."

There wasn't a cordial response to his comments. I searched my brain to understand why he felt the need to intervene in my moments of despair. It was my sadness to deal with. Only a few days had passed since finding out that my cousin had been kidnapped. My grief was a rational one, but his reaction to it wasn't. The only thing I could say was, "I'm sorry."

His unreasonable rage was only fueled. It proved that I had annoyed him immensely. Before he could open his mouth to utter an offense, I repeated. "I'm sorry." Hearing me apologize boiled his blood. Then I said something that took him aback. "I'm sorry that you have no one to feel this way about. I'm sorry you have no one to grieve for." Turning towards the kitchen's exit, I thought it would be best to leave it at that, to forget his words and let his comments slide by.

Gilcome was not ready to end the conversation. He gripped my arm strong enough to prevent me from leaving, yet not strong enough to hurt me. "You know nothing." He growled and faced away. Taking a moment to respond, it occurred to me that maybe I should have a little fun. The pot of flour shined before my eyes and it was my intent to smash it across his face. He deserved it for acting so despicable towards me. Instead, I raised it over his head. Gilcome shut his eyes tightly waiting for the flour to fall down his head.

–"Don't you dare! Put the flour down...slowly." Mr. Zorga stood behind me. Gilcome and I remained paralyzed by his voice.

"He started it, Mr. Zorga."

"Well, she insulted my cooking style." Gilcome replied.

"What?" He was unbelievable. "Mr. Zorga, he said horrible things about me."

"You did too—June said she felt sorry for me." He protested.

"For god's sakes, both of you be quiet— June, put the flour down." Zorga walked closer.  
"Fine." As I tried to move closer to the counter, Gilcome stuck out his foot, causing me to trip. The pot tumbled in the air, spilling all its flour. Quickly the kitchen turned dusty white.

"I knew this would happen." Mr. Zorga remained covered in flour "Guess who's on kitchen duty this week?" He yelled furiously. Gilcome couldn't stop showing his amusement, laughing louder each second. "You too Gilcome! Both of you are cleaning the kitchen, until it's spotless. And you are doing the dishes for a week, maybe for a month!" Then, Mr. Zorga left for a change of clothes.

Gilcome stared at me and smiled, "you look terribly mad."

"Are you happy now? Did you actually have something to show me or did you just want to throw flour on my face?"

"Just forget it." He turned around. "How about you go to your room and feel sorry for the both us."

"No." I dared him. "Stop it, already. Why did you call me here?"

"I came across an old recipe for bread and wanted to show you how to make it." Gilcome squeezed the words out. "I was just trying to cheer you up."

"Nothing can cheer me up. Not until Dez comes back." It was a nice gesture, but it wouldn't be possible because I didn't want to be cheery. Happiness would never visit my life again, it was a disgusting state of being which masked feelings and left on its track sadness, despair and far worse feelings.

"Not even a little flour on your face?" Still with a devious grin on his face, Gilcome pushed his luck. "I've been thinking much about Dez and this House."

"Really? Because it would be helpful if you could give me his personal number. The members and I really need him down here."

"Funny," he replied, making a weird face and turning away. "Fine. Don't ask me later."

"Do you really know something about him?"

"Only a little." He shouted from the supply closet. "Dez was a powerful ruler in the land of Fexorrous. That's about how much I know." He walked back holding a broom and handed it to me. Then he grabbed another for himself. "The stories say that Dez fell in love with a woman; an enchanting woman. Her beauty was praised by every man in town. Long, straight, black hair, and large emerald-green eyes," Gilcome sighed as he swept away the flour.

"Sounds like you knew her."

"No, not in person. Remember I was ten years old when I came to the House. My parents sent me through an open portal because they knew that Dez had made it safely across and wanted to ensure my protection. When I arrived, Dez had been iced and Ms. Baynes found me inside the Dark Hall. She and the rest of the members received me and allowed me to remain in the House to serve Dez with my energy. Communication since then was unexpectedly cut from the portal and no one else is able to transport."

"So the members didn't arrive together?" I rested my jaw on the broomstick.

"No, the people of Fexorrous had been fleeing for some time, even before Dez made it here—Let me finish telling you about Cora, the woman Dez loved. Her beauty was only second to her powers. Cora had the purest and the strongest energy of her time. But Dez didn't know that and, I think, neither did she. Others did know and wanted her energy so they took her from Dez. He never saw her again. That's why Dez built this House. He wanted to go back to Fexorrous, find Cora and bring her here, where they could be together."

"Poor Dez. He has been frozen forever; you think Cora is still alive?"

"Oh, yes. After Dez left Fexorrous the Royal House announced that they had captured her and since her abilities to withhold and extract energy from others was deemed dangerous, she was taken to the Icing Chambers, where her powers could be preserved without the endangerment of any lives. Cora's great amount of energy could only be extracted in a frozen state. So they probably even look the same age, that's if they haven't unfrozen her already."

"Why would they unfreeze her, isn't she important to the Royal House."

"Well, if they drained her powers there's no need to keep her body frozen, taking up space. Seb Creat probably killed her. However it would be more likely if she had been set free to live powerless."

"And how do you know all of this?"

"I don't," He took his eyes off the floor and looked my way. "But those are the stories I was told."

When we had finished sweeping the flour off the floor, Gilcome began to dust the counters. "You can stop that now." Mr. Zorga returned and dragged us under the kitchen archway. "Both of you are needed in the living room. Ms. Baynes would like a word."

Spilling a little flour did not seem like such a serious offense. Mr. Zorga overlooked our steps towards the living room, like a prisoner guard. By the look on Gilcome's face one could swear we were about to stand before a court judge. Netania and Jacknell had also been called to hear our sentencing. She was sitting, almost at the edge of the chair, knees together and elbows resting on her lap. Jacknell stood behind Netania's chair, his hand resting on her shoulders. "Everything will be fine." he said to her as Gilcome and I approached them.

"Finally, we are all here." Ms. Baynes marched out of the Dark Hall. "There have been new occurrences at the House of which you should all be informed."

Gilcome clenched his jaw, "Ms. B–"

Mr. Zorga lowered his head and murmured— "This is not about the flour. Now be quiet and listen."

"What's on your mind, Gilcome?" Ms. Baynes asked.

"Only how pretty you look today, new dress eh?" Gilcome grinned. Then everyone's eyes turned to me as a giggle escaped from my mouth.

"Something funny you'd like to tell us about, June?"

"Sorry."

Ms. Baynes was tense, as if she wanted to blurt out what she had to say, to relieve herself of the words fluttering around her mind. "No more interruptions? Good. I'd like to continue. As you all may know, we have been working towards a common goal. Today, we are closer to reaching that goal. Dez has returned."

Chapter Eight

Time wasn't relevant anymore. Days passed before we were able to see Dez, maybe months. In the House, I lost notion of time. There were days that had long, excruciating hours, while others where over in the time it takes a snowflake to melt on top of the boiling sand that covers a dessert. But most days where blended and those where the worst. Since the end of a day and the beginning of a new one where blurred; it was all one consecutive nightmare.

I made good use of my room, visited the places I longed to be and those places I missed. Places that reminded me of loved ones. Some days I visited the Park, other days the Plains. When we first heard the news about Dez, Gilcome and I became inpatient and plotted to discover where in the House he could be resting. The two of us spent weeks opening every door on both sides of the House but the man was nowhere, like he hadn't returned at all. There was only one room we couldn't enter. "The Heart of the House," Gilcome called it. Only Ms. Baynes had the key and she kept it hanging from her neck, tucked in her dress always. Even if we had the key it would be useless because only Ms. Baynes had the authority to open the door. Her and no one else. The other members, including Netania, remained patient; almost uninterested by the return.

Gilcome began to think that some of the members were having secret meetings with Dez because one would disappear for a while, then another. Especially Ms. Baynes and Netania. One day they all vanished for a whole hour, only Gilcome and I remained. Perhaps they did not trust us and were planning on ways to use up our energies combined, and then secretly dispose of our bodies, like Gilcome had joked. Or maybe they thought we wouldn't be able to handle whatever it was they were hiding, us being the youngest. I tried to ask Netania but she would just say it wasn't the time yet. She too wanted to see Dez, as much as I did. She and Ms. Baynes were only making special preparations for Dez and that's why she hadn't been to her garden lately.

"She's coming." Mr. Zorga said as I approached the kitchen from one of the long halls. They were all there, by the counters. Gilcome was there too, smiling.

"Surprise! Happy Birthday June," the members spread around to reveal a large, round, chocolate cake, decorated with hazelnuts and vanilla flowers.

"Do you like it?" Mr. Zorga asked, "Gilcome and I made it especially for you." After a nudge from him, Mr. Zorga gave in, "Fine, Gilcome made it himself, but I overlooked."

"June, are you alright?" Ms. Baynes made her way in-between the members until she could reach me.

Everything was fine, except it wasn't my birthday. My birthday was on..."My birthday?"

"Yes, June. It's your birthday today, October 29th." Netania pushed me closer to the cake. "You turn sixteen today."

It seemed impossible. How could I not remember my own birthday? That date meant nothing to me. "I can't remember."

"Thought this wouldn't happen so quickly," Jacknell raised both eyebrows, widening his brown eyes.

"Is there something wrong with me?" Did they all know this would happen to me?

Maybe it was a side effect from being drained by the Door, but it seemed unlikely that it would happen now and not right after waking up.

–"Shh, no. No" Ms. Baynes stepped in front of the members. "Let's not spoil the day. You are going to enjoy this day, worry free. Then we'll talk about it."

"Isn't it too late for that?" Gilcome asked. "With all due respect Ms. Baynes, if something is wrong with June, we should look into it. This sounds pretty serious to me." He stood tall, staring Ms. Baynes in the face. Then Mr. Zorga whispered something in his ear.

"—but Mr. Z—" Gilcome protested. Ms. Baynes ignored Gilcome completely because to her and, apparently, to the rest of the members, Gilcome was just a boy.

"Let's go open presents." They guided me to the tiled garden front. The members made a line and each held a box in their hands except for Gilcome who stood next to me. He couldn't wait for me to try the cake he had baked. It had been his first creation without the help of Mr. Zorga.

Netania was first in line, the sweetness of her smile reminded me of someone but I couldn't tell who. She lifted up a leather cord holding a pendant in the shape of a green leaf. "The leaf is a flask containing special extracts...for healing. Keep it close to you." Bowing my head, Netania placed the trinket around my neck.

Mr. Zorga reached me next, impatient to explain what his gift was. It was a recipe book; fine dust sprinkled the air as he opened the box which contained it. Gilcome volunteered to hold the large book so that I could receive the remaining gifts. Ms. Baynes offered me a key, right from the key necklace dropping from her neck. She insisted it would open any door, but only if, "the existence of such door relies upon being locked. All that it opens should stay locked, for it unlocks the wicked." It was pretty enough and would look great as a pendant on my neck, but as a key, it was useless. I promised to keep it as a reminder of all the evil the world would never face, for the key wouldn't be used to satisfy my curiosity or that of others. The strength of its power overcame me when it fell against my chest, and so all doors in its domain would remain locked.

Jacknell was the last of the members to present me with a gift. "This was entrusted onto me by someone very special. The time has come for it to be in the hands of its rightful owner." A small dagger encased in its sheath, glowed before his hands. The precious, ornate markings and embedded stones were visible as he removed it from its case. A pleasing, golden, metallic ringing rested in my ears for a few seconds. "As your father proclaimed, for the one who carries hope." Jacknell bowed his head, then smiled graciously. The words were printed on the blade as a reminder but further into the future, looking upon those words would lead me to believe that I had failed a part of my mission. They had been unrecognizable.

Receiving the gifts made me feel important. I had never received gifts as precious as these, for that matter, I couldn't remember ever having received gifts. But it wasn't the only thing I couldn't remember, because my life was no longer mine.

***

"After your body's energy was drained by one of the Doors, the strings did not put all of that energy back into your body. Instead, I created a space for it. We were told that by the time Dez made his appearance, he would need to feed off your energy. Later the members came to the discovery that the container I had created for your energy had not only stored energy, it had stored other parts of you, including that part which you are missing right now; your memories. Everything you knew before you arrived at the House is now gone, well not gone," Jacknell corrected himself, "but in another being. In truth," he explained, "that's not an accurate description. When your energy was divided, it created another you; the one with your memories.

Dez fed off that being. But Dez only needed a taste of energy, preferably yours for reasons I'm not in a position to speak of. Once your energy was absorbed into his body, Dez was able to awaken from the state. He is currently recuperating. What concerns us now is you. There is a process to bind you and your memories back together, but it's a very risky and complicated procedure in which, ultimately, you can die...forever I mean. It is also complicated for those performing the operation because we are not aware of the condition of the being processing your memories.

There is another solution. In time, your memories are bound to come back by nature and the being will disintegrate. The processes can be very slow. Some memories can become distorted or, simply, disappear. However, I suggest this method, despite the waiting." Jacknell forced himself not to look at me throughout his speech. We sat next to each other in the silence of his wood-crafting studio.

Memories were nothing; they only served as, either, a reminder of how happy I once was, or as the nightmarish evidence of my current, miserable life. A life before the House was not of interest to me; the members were my family now. My duty was to serve Dez and his cause. How could my memories assist me in his quest? They would only blur my goals. Yet, these pesky illusions of time make up the core of life itself.

"I'm sorry," Jacknell grabbed my hands. "It's a shame having to live this life. Fate is an unkind stalker, especially to those born like us. Even if you attempt to run from it, like your parents did, it finds you and those around us."

"My parents?" I shot him a questioning look, not being able to help myself.

Like one who says something he shouldn't have, Jacknell answered, "Your parents were brave people who managed to bring you to a safe place to live. The only thing that made them stronger was you, you gave them hope. Len once said to me you were his carrier of hope. Sadly the Council of Lord Seb Creat sent the Patrol to find them and took them back to Fexorrous. It is because of Edda and Len that you are here, in this house, to save them. For similar reasons all the members are here, but mainly because life at Fexorrous became unbearable after Dez was dethroned."

The mention of my parents had lit only a small spark of curiosity, but no emotion. My emotions towards them had also been taken and perhaps towards everything else. They had been dropped into a bottomless hole, which walls made of emptiness stood as tall as the hole was deep. I could see my emotions struggling to climb back up the hole; uselessly, however, as there was nothing to hold on to.

"It is to remind you of your purpose that I tell you about them. Never deviate from them and those you love. The House can be a prison; it tricks our minds into believing that our needs collide with Dez' and become one. It is fine and admirable if you wish to help him, we all do, but never forget that you come first. Your goals and those whom you wish to save should be your priority, no matter what the others say." As he finished speaking, I looked around the room for a fresh thought but could not come up with one. To the corner of the room, on top of an old armoire, a potted plant spread its leaves proudly. Sunlight expanded though the small window on the uppermost part of the wall behind us. A glance back at his face and Jacknell had become a different man, one I had never seen before. The expression on his face was to be feared; reminiscent and nostalgic.

Wishing to uncover what troubled him I asked, "Are you ever going to tell me why you are here, at the House?" The members all had a purpose which made them feel worthy and content with the life Dez had created for them.

Jacknell was in his late thirties, around Netania's age, maybe a few years older. Of all the members, he was the one that fit in the least. Even Gilcome was more accustomed to being a prisoner of the wonderfulness of the House. Jacknell had never been able to show a genuine smile, at least not around me. The joy on his face was always forced and excruciating to watch, like a man who walks the streets after being beaten, bloody but still standing because he doesn't want others to know what terrible things makeup part of his being. "Long story, huh?" I took the words from his lips.

He said in a chuckle, "Aren't they always?" then paused and remained thoughtful. "Contrary to what other members say, House members come and go, sometimes they just find a way to be free. Maybe I should start by confessing that you weren't the first one to lose your memories. Someone I knew became a victim of the House very quickly after we arrived. Defenseless, with no memories to compare against, the House that Dez built took advantage of her and destroyed much of who she was. I blame myself for her loss." The light in his eyes diminished as he spoke of her. "That will not happen to you, I won't let it. Never again will I perform that operation." He said the last sentence with conviction. All that interested me, at the moment, was knowing who the woman he spoke of was and what had become of her. His jaws clenched and his head dropped. "Being young can prove disastrous for many, it sure was for me. Although, blaming the ignorance present in those early years isn't very fair. I was selfish, repulsively selfish. Knowing that she didn't remember me, us, was irritating and it burned my insides. Waiting for the unknown wasn't something I wanted to do and fearing that she would forget me forever, I pretended to be a hero; because I could fix anything. Instead, the operation resulted in a disaster and the House took over her free will, to prevent her demise. The members want me to try the procedure again, this time on you. I will not do it."

"That's fine, Jacknell. I wouldn't put you in that position." Besides there was not much I wanted to remember and if I did, surely others could fill me in. "The members will have a blast telling me of my past." I laughed to ease his mind, but it didn't work.

"No, you don't understand. Memories and emotions are linked together, June. It wouldn't make a difference to tell you about your parents, or your grandmother, aunt, or cousin. None of them are here and those memories might only be triggered with their presence."

"Don't worry; I'll be able to deal with it." Dez could fix it, something told me he could. His awakening was fast approaching and all I hoped for was to be of use to him.

***

A late morning breeze swept across our faces as we watched Netania trim the tree branches of the side garden. Gilcome was crouched beside me on the ground, listening attentively. I had been telling him about a recent dream of mine. Every day, seconds before waking, I would see myself running on a place where dry grasses grew high. Once, my room almost turned into the place, the grass began to grow around my bed and the sun heated my face. The illusion only lasted for an instant.

Gilcome theorized that some of my memories had been imprinted on my room. That place was from my past, maybe if I saw it again, more of my memories would be uncovered. Of course we both knew that visiting that place would be impossible because we couldn't leave the House. The idea, however, had sparked Gilcome's interest and all he could speak about was the world outside the House. It was interesting to hear him, because he had never stepped foot outside. Not being able to remember much, I filled in details with my imagination. The more we talked; I realized that I wanted to go as much as he did.

Ms. Baynes heard us talk about the Outside and shot us an ugly look as she brought Netania a pitcher of water. "Don't you kids have better things to keep you entertained?"

"Mr. Zorga went wild and used up all we had left in the party. Then, he threw us out of the kitchen, so we're taking the day off." Gilcome squinted up towards her, smiling, knowing that his comment would irritate her.

"That man lost his marbles a long time ago. But today, I swear, he'll find them. I'll make those pastries burn hotter than a day in mid-August." Ms. Baynes was still upset at Mr. Zorga. The night before he had forgotten a boiling pot on the stove and Ms. Baynes had, somehow, managed to spill it on her right arm.

"It's best this way," Gilcome explained, "when those two aren't arguing, they are plotting to give me more work."

Mr. Zorga had been tense during the last week, preparing pastries for the town's bake sale. The bake sale was for charity but the winner received a special, one-page, recognition in the town's newspaper. According to Gilcome, Mr. Zorga always entered and always won. The House's messenger would deliver the pastries and a week later the press would interview him for fifteen minutes on the side garden.

Two hours later, the messenger arrived to pick up the goods from Mr. Zorga. He was the only member of the House I had yet to meet. It'd be nice to see a different face. Netania yelled for Gilcome's help to pick up the tree trimmings and I took the chance to sneak in the living room while Ms. Baynes conversed with the messenger. From far, the man was tall and dark-haired. He laughed at something she said, then continued to speak. Suddenly the messenger paused, his body became stiff and his glance fixed on me. The disbelief in his eyes transformed into surprise, almost relief. He knew who I was. The man walked closer to me and muttered, "June, is that you?"

I studied him as my confused mind raced for answers, then I noticed the black glove on his left hand. "Kostas?"

Ms. Baynes almost doubled over when she realized that I had recognized him. How his name had come to my mind had surprised me as well. Suddenly, in a flash, I saw him. The Park's wind felt light and cool. I saw the play area where the kids played and little Ette, my friend. I thought of her and missed her because she had been a genuine source of happiness in my past life. Then, the pit of despair inside me widened. There were others whom I missed but could not remember. They had been taken from me. What saddened me the most was, that perhaps, they missed me because they could remember me. Not being able to do the same tasted ungrateful.

"June, how I've needed you at the Park," Kostas sighed. For a second he looked away and then hugged me. "You will never know how much I regret deceiving you. It was my job to make sure you were close to the House." Kostas tried to justify his actions, maybe if he could convince me that he had a just reason for placing me in this house, one day he could forgive himself. "At the time I couldn't tell you, as it would have defeated the purpose."

"Kostas," Ms. Baynes interrupted. "Thank you so much for your time, you do so much for us and the House. I am sure Mr. Zorga will appreciate that his pastries get to the bake sale on time, as always." She patted his shoulder.

"If it is alright I would like to stay a little while," he removed her hand, "to catch up with June." He turned to me and ignored Ms. Baynes' presence. "In my life, there are many things I regret doing, but nothing troubles me more than what I did to you." Hearing his words, I believed him but could not understand why he felt as he did. I remembered Kostas; he was one of the people I could clearly remember and he had never even spoken about the House to me. Kostas had never lied to me. He couldn't have because we did not have many conversations. "By now you know that the Park was a cover for the House and no one could have held that job position because it was destined for you and you only. Still, I remember the day when you walked in, it was the best day of my life; you had saved me.

Your fate did not concern me in the least. The members were going to entangle you into the worldly mess that is this House. Back then it was not my problem. But I have paid a high price for all of my mistakes and again my life has crumbled before my eyes, just after figuring out what it meant to be happy." His mind and heart needed a rest. Kostas believed that by receiving my approval, my forgiveness, he would once again gain control of his life. I wanted that for him and so he spoke, uninterrupted.

"While still living at Fexorrous, I received an invitation from the House to work for Dez. The House was in contact with the rebellion group, which was still loyal to Dez' leadership. For some reason they wanted me to join them and every year they appeared in my house with the same invitation. My life at Fexorrous was carefree and simple so I declined the House's offer. It was not until about six years ago that I decided to join the members. I met my wife, she became pregnant and I did not want my child to grow up in such an extreme environment. The life of a child is difficult at Fexorrous. Children, especially girls, are taken from their parents to be raised by the Royal House. Their heads are shaven in a ritual that prepares them to become slaves of Lord Seb Creat. Once the energy is harnessed, they are officially owned by the new lord. Lord Seb Creat continues to monopolize Fexorrous' energy power. It all began by an irrational fear that created the manifestation of disrespect for the Royal House. In the past, the Lord was afraid of the rebellion group and its ability to recruit energy fountains to overthrow him. So he began to enslave those with rare energies, to drain them."

Kostas closed his eyes, "You have to understand, I was not going to let my child live as a prisoner. I moved to the House, having agreed to the terms left for me by Dez. He had prepared messages and notes for me long before he decided to enter his comatose state. I had never met him in person but I knew him as a ruler. Like all rulers, Dez had his priorities, some of which were not best for the people. He made mistakes and angered many men but he was my savior and my ticket out of that horrid land.

A house was provided for my wife and her mother, who had joined us since she had no one left at Fexorrous. Her husband had been captured by the Royal House and he had become their property. When a person becomes the property of the Lord, their interests and wishes are those of the Lord as well. Nothing but serving the Lord matters because their energy is no longer theirs. The decision to join Dez was a great decision for us but it had been mine, not my family's. I did not allow them to be close to me because in the back of my mind I thought that this House was too good to be true.

There is always a catch, June, always. Training to become a member lasted months and for that period of time, I didn't see my family, not even when my daughter was born. My wife raised our daughter while I committed myself to the House. Once my training had been complete I wished to resume my duties as a father and husband, but how could I? I didn't deserve them. When you joined the members, we reconnected. My wife, Erin, little Ette and I were together as a family for the very first time. My job had been done, my debt to Dez had been paid and Fexorrous was finally in my past. I'm sorry my happiness was at your expense." His head lowered and I felt the need to relieve him of the burden he, so heavily, carried.

"C'mon Kostas, don't be so hard on yourself and don't take all the credit either. I am well aware that this wasn't your idea and, besides, it isn't like you threw me in here. Sometimes things just happen. In the end, it makes me glad that, if nothing else, I could bring happiness to you and your family. Still I cannot believe that Ette was right all along. She used to tell me that you were her father but were afraid to tell her so. Ette will grow to become a precious and smart girl." Remembering her made me smile. "Would you give her my regards?"

His eyes fell to the ground, his glance was beaten. The semblance of a tired man consumed him. Kostas could not bring himself to speak. For a few seconds he made the effort to hold his eyes up. They were the eyes of someone who had faced the devil. His face had lost the glow it once radiated and his voice was of one who had given up. "I held her weak little body in my arms as her life slowly expired." Kostas motioned his arms as if he were still holding her. Then, unable to contain himself, he sobbed. "My little Ette is gone, June." A wave of shock knocked me off balance and onto the floor. I wished he would stop speaking but he continued to describe the incident. "They took her energy. Erin and I heard screams during the night and rushed to her but it was too late. She was left in her bed unable to breathe, dying. Motionless, paralyzed by fear, I remained on the edge of the bed, trembling by my wife's side. The world had turned dark in my eyes. We were a dammed specie." Kostas sat beside me and said, "Life has become without meaning once again and though it's hard to continue, I have to, for my wife."

I hugged my knees together, lowered my head and asked him why this was happening. His answer did not surprise me. Dez had powerful enemies whom knew of his plans and wanted to destroy every one of his allies. Kostas did not have to say it but I knew he blamed himself. It was obvious that he had become a prisoner of Guilt and would, probably, be one for the rest of his life.

***

Nights at the House became more and more monotonous. It felt empty and lonely. After Kostas' visit, I was left sleepless. A few days had passed since I had found out about Ette's death. Gloom roamed the House during the afternoons and its nightly silence terrified me. It was hard to speak to anyone so I remained by myself, feeling as a visible ghost, which is the worst kind of ghost. Their existence is known, yet not acknowledged. Even Gilcome had moved on, finding a new interest in books. He spent most of the days in the library, submerged in notes and diagrams.

One night I found him suspiciously wandering the exposed hall close to my room. He smiled slyly as he saw me, "I have been waiting for you."

"Yes, I can see that—everyone else is sleeping Gilcome, what do you want?"

He narrowed his eyes and murmured, "I need your help." His presence intrigued me, what was he planning in the middle of the night?

"My help, with what?"

He took a breath and cleared his throat. "You might think I'm stupid, crazy or maybe even—" Gilcome's voice was strong yet soothing. For the first time in a long time I felt relaxed, almost hypnotized. Finally, I thought, sleep would come easily this night. Then he spoke again, "I am going to the Plains." His words surprised me, but didn't alarm me. I chuckled, mockingly, and headed to my room.

"June." He called in a low whisper. Gently, he grabbed my arm then wedged himself in front of my door. "I know you want to go, don't pretend otherwise." Gilcome fixed his eyes on mine and I felt as he read my desires and fears. Ashamed, I looked away.

The Plains represented the life that had once been mine, but now that life was strange to me. I was scared of it because I did not remember what it had been like. What if I had hated my life, or worst, what if I had liked it even a bit? Returning to the Plains was not a good idea, but Gilcome was right, there was nothing else I wanted than to visit the Plains. Because this was impossible, all I could do was imagine my possibilities. Gilcome was out of his mind, we both knew that leaving the House could be disastrous for our journey.

"How can you ask that of me? The Plains mean much to me but you know that people we know are being hunted by the hour. How can I wave myself in front of the Patrol, tempting them as if the lives they have taken were meaningless. If this is a joke, I ask you to stop. The House is the only thing keeping us safe. How can you ask me to leave when you know Dez' and my parents' fate depend on my journey here at the House?"

Gilcome turned around to gather his thoughts, then faced me with disbelief. "A joke? No, it is not a joke. What bothers me most is that you would think that I'd put you at such a risk. I know, more than anyone, that we are wanted by the Patrol, reminding me is unnecessary."

"Then–"

"If I hadn't found a way, a safe way that is," he emphasized, "I wouldn't have asked you, June. Thought you knew me better." He didn't give me a chance to respond, letting his last statement sink in. "These past days I have been working on this," from his pocket, he slipped two small flasks. "Dez left journals in the library which explain the creation of an antidote to contain a person's energy. We would be untraceable for about two hours. June, I can't do this without you." Gilcome opened a book he had been holding. At the bottom of the first page there was Dez' signature, the letter D. Gilcome proceed to explain the pictures and diagrams inside the book but I had ceased listening.

Gilcome's interest was tempting and an exciting spark hid behind his eyes. I studied him as he spoke about the flask. It was my duty to decline his outrageous desire. Ette's life and that of others had been taken and I couldn't help but to blame Dez' cause. A cause I was now part of. As much as I despised Dez and his world at the moment, to risk all that the members and I had worked, for was foolish. While living at the House, many times I questioned the difference between right and wrong and usually my thoughts towards the concepts were blurred; blending into confusion. That night, no doubts lingered. In my mind I prepared to tell him that I wouldn't be going and that neither should he. Then I saw a hopeful look in Gilcome's face. Its presence struck me. Hope was the only thing he possessed and looking at it gave me hope too. It was now that I could see it because as hope was leaving him, it glowed through his skin.

Gilcome had never tried exploring the world outside the House, why did he have the urge now? Was it because his hopeful thoughts were diminishing and he had nothing to lose? Or perhaps he had discovered something new for which he desired to hold on to the remaining drops?

I took one of the flasks from his hand and drank the liquid. Instantly, I knew it had been wrong to do so, but it was worth it, for he smiled sweetly at me. Gilcome's sweet smile slowly faded into a more serious one, if there is such a thing. He raised one of his eyebrows and after drinking his flask we rushed through the garden door.

An exhilarating feeling drove me and I held on to it, knowing that without it I wouldn't dare to leave the House. As the grounds of the House disappeared into the darkness we both became different people. I sprinted through the deserted streets like I had never known the House. Gilcome was quickly out of breath, overwhelmed with the crispness of the night. A light followed our path, searching for us as if we had escaped from the grounds of a highly guarded prison. At first I thought it was an illusion of the House searching for our energies, then I thought of the Prymm Patrol, but it was neither.

A full moon floated above us, illuminating us as we stepped into the Plains. They were as I had left them, the warmness embraced me tightly and I twirled in between the grass. Gilcome observed from under a tree close to the street and later approached me. Still out of breath he managed to say, "June, how beautiful is the night." It seemed like he wanted to say more but instead turned around and admired the view. We walked together while the grass caressed our legs and for a second I felt free and imagined Gilcome felt the same way. But that was only an illusion because we were both properties of Dez. We became tired pretty quick and sat down to rest for a while. Gilcome had brought a watch to keep track of time, only twenty five minutes had passed. The passing of time remained slow as I became restlessly tired. Gilcome noticed the color of my face had deepened from a rosy tone to reddened parts on my cheeks. "Something is wrong," Gilcome shouted and looked at his watch. He placed a hand on my forehead to take my temperature and removed it quickly. "We have to go," Gilcome said in a panic.

As the moon glided proudly across the sky, I closed my eyes and saw faces of people. In a flash, memories of my past life reached me and injected themselves into me. I knew of my parents, Granny and my life with Aunt Marcelle. I remembered Leev and her disappearance. My heart raced and my vision blurred as the memories poured back. Gilcome stood up and motioned me to follow him. "We've been found. Run, June, we have to go now!"

I got up from the ground and ran at his pace, "but you said...Gilcome you promised!"

"I don't know what happened," he shouted frantically. Panic dispersed across his face. The drops of sweat running down his forehead glimmered against the moonlight.

Rushing back, I glared one last time towards the Plains, deserted as usual. We reached the streets; as empty as the Plains. I had lost track of time, so I figured everyone in town was sleeping by now. There was not a soul roaming around, how did Gilcome know the Patrol had found us? "Are you sure it's them?"

"Don't you feel it? I can see it on your face. Dez wrote about that look in his journals. Your eyes turned white for a while, it means they intercepted your energy. Now, would you stop asking questions and move?"

The glowing moon disappeared in the sky. A thunder startled us and encouraged a fast sprint to reach the House. The way back seemed long, in my mind I believed we were closer, but my eyes had been deceiving me. Gilcome and I weren't even half way back. He ran ahead of me at a fast pace, his speed impressed me. I kept falling behind searching for the light of the moon to guide us. The stormy clouds had covered up even the stars, so I placed my eyes back on the road only to find myself alone. "Gilcome?" I had looked away for a few seconds and he was gone, they had taken him. They had taken him!

With no energy left to run, I gave up. My skin felt cold against the humidity of the warm air. Exhausted, I stood by the rocks, next to a street light with my arms open, ready for what was to come. My eyes filled quickly with tears; I had no one left. If I surrendered to them, everything would be over. But the last thing I wanted to do was cry, so my remaining energy was used to hold back tears.

"You must be nuts, June." The irritation in his voice had never felt so delightful. "What do you think you are doing?" I looked at him and a tear spilled, quickly I wiped it away so that he wouldn't see.

"I thought—" Tangled in a mixture of emotions; I threw myself in his arms and hugged him. He whispered something in my ear, but I didn't hear. Once I had calmed, we resumed the run back to the House. Somehow, I felt more energized than before, as if Gilcome had fused me with his energy. Finally, in a few minutes, we were before the front gardens of the House. The sight was more beautiful than the first time I had seen the House. As we stepped on the grass, I removed my shoes and walked slowly, knowing that I was safe once again. Drops of water fell from the sky; quickly it began to rain at full force. Gilcome grabbed me by the hand and we rushed through the side door into the kitchen, which Gilcome had left unlocked. Our clothes had already been soaked. We were careful not to make any noises, but the heaviness of our clothes made it harder to walk. Gilcome slipped and I giggled as he recovered his balance. He shot me a funny look and prepared to say something clever but the sound of another voice paralyzed his thought.

"Hello?"

Gilcome pulled me into the pantry and shut the door. He placed his hand above my mouth so that I wouldn't make a sound, although I didn't think that was necessary. From the bottom of the door we saw the kitchen lights turn on.

"Hello?" It was Ms. Baynes. What was she doing up? She murmured something to herself and then we heard some jingly noises. It was then when I remembered that Ms. Baynes liked to wake up in the middle of the night to check on every lock, even the window locks. Once she had completed her check through this side of the House she went back to bed. The lock check was not indispensable, no one in town would even dare to come close to the House and even if they did, from what I had learnt about the House, only certain people could enter. The lights went out and the jingly noises ceased.

"Sorry," Gilcome realized his hand was still on my lips. He removed it and then lowered himself to the floor.

"What are you doing?" This wasn't the time for resting. If Ms. Baynes decided to check the pantry, we were done for.

"You do know we have to wait till she's finished checking all the rooms, right?" His face turned to me as I crouched by him. "We move and she will see us." Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea. How much trouble could we get into? Ms. Baynes wasn't our owner, she couldn't control us. Gilcome and I were free to do whatever we pleased.

"What if you show that potion you made. Gilcome, maybe it could change things; save lives."

"Except, June, it didn't work!" Then there was silence and it deepened after every pause he took. "I was selfish; it truly was a selfish thing to do. I'm sorry I got you involved." He had convinced me to go to the Plains but I had decided to go. For some reason or another, it was my fault also. Letting him take the blame would haunt me because I knew it would burden him. However, nothing bad had happen to either of us, so at that moment, I was unable to understand his concern.

"Gilcome, do you always have to take all the credit? I hope you know that I, just as you, am able to make my own decisions. Being young is not an excuse for not taking responsibility for them, even if those decisions are not the best ones."

Again there was silence and for a while I thought he wouldn't speak, "I guess there isn't an excuse," he said, "not when you have been forced to grow up so quickly." I wasn't sure if he was still talking about me, or if it was himself whom he was referring to. "June, I thought you were gone—when we were out there. It struck me like a bolt of energy; of all my mistakes and all the ones that I would ever make, that one would haunt me forever. It would have been the greatest and most senseless." His voice turned raspy, "Then I saw that you had given up; with your arms spread wide. Knowing that because of my doing you had surrendered all hope and wishes of a better life, I have never felt so empty. What was hardest to deal with was the thought that you had given up on...me."

My face heated and I was thankful the room was dark. Those same feelings I had shared, but refused to let him know, in fact I didn't speak for the rest of the night and it bothered him even though he didn't ask for a reply. When the noises from Ms. Baynes' keychain had ceased, we emerged from the pantry and walked to our rooms as silently as possible, trying to minimize the squeakiness of our semi-wet steps. My clothes had almost dried by then and Gilcome's looked somewhat dry as well. As I was getting ready to open my door I looked across the hall at him. From the distance I could see that he was smiling, as usual. "Have a good night, June."

As I lay to sleep, I thought of Gilcome, wishing I had thanked him because he had saved my life—which wouldn't have needed saving if he hadn't convinced me to go to the Plains. Whatever the case, we were both safe and, if nothing else, I had recovered memories of my aunt and my cousin. But the memories were bittersweet. How could knowing that I was once loved help me, when the people that did, were no longer around me? At least, I comforted myself believing that our life together had brought them happiness.

***

In the early hours of the morning I was awakened by soft knocks. Netania spoke through the door while I tried to get out of bed. "June, you must get ready, there is an emergency meeting. The members are waiting for us in the living room."

"Meeting?" Emergency? I made it to the door and let Netania in. "What meeting, what happened?"

"I'm not sure," she shrugged, "Ms. Baynes said it was related to something that happened yesterday." Netania stepped outside while I got ready and then she met me by the hall to walk together. On the way, I recounted some of my recovered memories. She seemed concerned about the speed of my recovery but I assured her I felt emotionally stable, for the moment.

"Have you seen Gilcome?" I imagined the meeting must have taken him by surprise also.

"Earlier, by the kitchen, just after Ms. Baynes announced the meeting. He didn't look too well. Did something happen to him?"

"Not that I'm aware." When we arrived to the living room, the members were gathered waiting. In my mind I went through last night's events trying to isolate anything that could have given us away. I took a spot next to Gilcome, we didn't break eye contact until Ms. Baynes began to speak.

"The reason of this meeting is of the outmost importance. We are gathered here because last night, the most unimaginable thing occurred and I must inform you all of what transpired."—my throat tensed with fear, and I glanced at Gilcome for support. He had started sweating heavily, so much so that his face had begun to turn red.—"Dez has energized enough to exert command over the House." Ms. Baynes continued, "Shortly he will be joining us for a dinner."

Gilcome closed his eyes and I exhaled with relief. The rest of the members celebrated the news while we stood as zombies facing each other. We were left now with the realization that our fate rested with Dez, the one who knew of everything, the one they called the Magician.

Part II

The Sanctuary

His whole existence intimidated me, the way he stood and how his whisper-like voice shook the walls of the House, but mostly the way in which he glanced at things. The darkness of his eyes glared with an intense feeling of love, perhaps hate or longing.

For the most part, he was a quiet man. There were too many ideas which kept him quiet, trying to listen to his own mind simulate alternative paths for his new life to follow. At times he would sit by the bamboo windows to think and I would sit by him to do the same. It did not seem to bother him and, truly, the act of watching him was invigorating. Impossible as it was to decipher his thoughts, it was a challenge I sought after, although to no avail.

All of his expressions were the result of an idea. His jaw clenched, emphasizing the strength of his jawbone, when an already accepted thought interfered with newly acquired information. The early hours of the morning freshened him and if one looked with a purely accepting gaze, knowing what to search for, a triumphant sensation was evident when two thoughts collided and connected. It was the hint of a smile; fleeting and modest.

Swiveling around and surrounded by dead thoughts, his new thoughts created the start of a plan. However, it would soon crumble, and his eyes would wrinkle trying to see beyond the physical world. Perhaps into his own mind, but he couldn't. Here Dez was mortal, though his appearance depicted something more. For a man who had been frozen through generations, Dez looked rather young, but that might have been his goal after all.

As the commander of the House, Dez more than commanded, yet he felt unable, unqualified and overestimated. The members did their best to make him feel at home by tending to his every need but their efforts could never come close. Many were the differences that separated him from the rest and so he was the odd one among us. Odd enough to make him the topic of the whisperings which carried out the secret conversations that roamed the House.

At dinner time, after having been asked repeatedly by Mr. Zorga and Ms. Baynes if he was "sure there wasn't anything that could start up his appetite," Dez told stories. It pleased him to join us at the dinner table, even if he could not eat. His diet consisted, strictly, on energy drawn from the House's energy reserve containing Dez' old energy. Once a week, he received an infusion of it. The process was complicated and painful. Every Wednesday, during nightly hours, the members were directed to their rooms and advised not come out under any circumstances. By now, we had all received a pair of plugs to keep us from hearing his screams. I never wore them. His eerie cries were loud and permeated the walls as the drawn force raced through his body, burning away the energy that made his revival possible; my energy. Dez' naturally given abilities were now the source of the pain because his body was not suited for them in this time, in this place. Nothing could ease the burden that flowed within him and without it, reaching Fexorrous was unimaginable.

So at dinner time we sat, listening intently to stories about the dreams he had dreamt while frozen. When Dez spoke of Fexorrous his eyes sparkled. It was a different Fexorrous, one I hadn't heard of. This Fexorrous was not the past Fexorrous and it wasn't the current Fexorrous. It was the land he had once ruled and the one he will once again reign over.

***

The night of the experiment arrived suddenly and left me feeling unprepared. The thought of having to recount my memories chilled my skin. Knowing that I had to relive them meant living life over again, watching myself making the same mistakes and thinking the wrong thoughts without being able to intervene. How could I watch myself walk into the mouth of the beast when I knew its insides would devour my soul as any other? My current life would be the future to the self from my memories. What was the point of going back when my present was inevitable? They were asking much of me, yet it would never be enough.

Surrounded by the members, Dez placed me in the center of the Dark Hall. I stood in awe of what was to come while he connected my soul to the House with a silver cord, in case someone from my past wanted to take possession of it. When they touched, my mind raced away from the House but I remained still. In the following seconds my past life crashed into my present. I relived it, analyzed it and retold it, keeping some moments to myself. Not all my memories would be of importance to him, but to me they all were. A flash focused my attention on the age of my body and the years that had passed since entering the House. I was also able to restrict details about my life with the members, and my distrust regarding their true intentions. Despite knowing it was too late, my wish was to keep all feelings with respect to the members empty. Especially because the genuine feelings would become the cause of my destruction. In seeing the past I was able to glimpse into the future. An unbreakable pattern followed me and it was in effect; continuing on to crush all my sanity. I had been doused with it and the spark lived in the House. It had been burning long before the spread of the flames could be stopped. Unlike flames of passion, the flames of this fire wouldn't die off, because they fed on its smoke.
Chapter Nine

Five of us walked through the Halls of Existence into the Council that led to infinity. That's where Fexorrous laid; a land crafted where the limit of the finite and infinite met. As I learned, even infinity had a limit, although not very defined. Opposite to what one might believe, Existence itself was relatively short in distance, at least its Halls were. Although, maybe my eyes did not have high enough clearance to see, as there was nothing extraordinary to see with human eyes. To my surprise the Halls of Existence were physical, too physical for my liking, solid and concrete; nothing compared to the emptiness of the Dark Hall. Upon arriving at the Halls, two guards escorted us all the way to the Council. How we had reached the Halls was a whole different story. As expected, I couldn't remember it but imagined it had been triggered by my memories in conjunction with one of Dez' creations.

The Council doors were opened by guards. Inside, a tall and, somewhat, stiff lady sat at the center of an empty judging panel suspended a few feet from the ground. "Welcome Sir. Where is your party heading?"

"I—well, how do I put it?" Dez murmured to himself and parted his hair before continuing. "I believe that is not of interest to you, no offense. However, if you could provide us the necessary elements to open a portal, we should be out of your hair in a matter of seconds. I assume a lady of your position, whatever that is, should know the basic elements. In case you don't, I can provide a list." Which he fetched from one of the coat's pockets and waved it, enthusiastically, from side to side, after scratching his beard.

The woman examined him as one would a foreigner. She managed to control her impertinent laughter while listening to his words. After Dez had finished his blabbering, she pressed a button and spoke to the guards, gloating. It was impossible to understand the reason for any amusement as they communicated using an outlandish language, perhaps native to the dimension. Pressing the button once more, she responded to Dez' comments. "Haven't traveled across dimensions lately, Sir?"

Not uttering a word, he made the strength of his glance present before her eyes and let her feel the weight of his energy. How dared she mock him, Dez, the Great Dez? His attempt to intimidate her failed as she seemed to ignore his mood. "Since we are dealing with unexperienced, I shall say, less than experienced, the rules must be laid."

Dez did not take her comment well and was prepared to walk up to the panel in an effort to make his dissatisfaction heard. "Listen to me lady, and listen well—"

Conveniently, the lady, having noticed his expression, began her way down towards us. "No Sir. You will do all the listening, for both of us. Had we not intervened, what you and your followers have attempted could have resulted in a disaster. Traveling across dimensions is not to be experimented by the unexperienced. I am sorry if you felt the need to try it out for yourself, but you should not do so again."

"Unexperienced!" Dez shouted, insulted by her impression of him. "You have no idea what you speak of!" The anger twisted around inside his body, boiling his energy.

"Wrong again, Sir. The Universal Council of Inter-dimensional Travel has established certain rules that must be followed in order to, safely, direct passengers to their desired locations. Otherwise, individuals must remain in the Halls of Existence until arrangements can be made for disposal."

"What nonsense are you speaking of? The waste that flows from your lips is so intoxicatingly distracting. Do us the favor of repeating yourself. This time, no rubbish, if that's possible."

"— charming, isn't he?" She turned to the members, finally acknowledging our presence. "Let's start over. My name is Arra Hed, Controller of the Universal Council of Inter-dimensional Travel."

"Thank you for your attention, Controller Hed. I'm Jacknell. Please excuse our companion," Jacknell tried to appease both sides. He placed a hand on Dez' shoulder and quickly removed it after receiving an unpleasant look. "We have not traveled in many years, too many to count. We were not aware of the new laws and had never heard of the Council, would you enlighten us?"

"Of course, Sir Jacknell." She proceeded to explain. "The Council was established as a protection for vulnerable dimensions as well as to regulate and provide safe travel to individuals. To understand our laws, it is important to take you back to the time when corrupt leaders began expanding their rule by sending armies through forged portals. The goal was to take over unprotected dimensions and their lands. Inter-dimensional wars began to cause universal conflicts which resulted in suspended travel by the Commission of Existence. The ban did not stop illegal transportation, and individuals with the knowledge began testing their experiments in order to sell their portals to the highest bidder. Many of them, if not all, ended in unwanted places, trapped in lands unable to support life, with no means of return.

Our Creator enacted the Council to study Inter-dimensional travel and to teach about the correct ways of enabling a portal. We discovered that not only each dimension, but each land within, is individualistic. The protection and availability of expertise, energy and elemental capacity is not remotely the same. While one can travel to all dimensions, a return could, potentially, be unheard of. This is true especially if one is unsure of the arrival place and time. The Council required that all attempting to travel must understand all circumstances related."

A pause gave Dez the chance to interrupt. "Yet, just when I thought there was some freedom left, there appears to be someone trying to regulate it. Will there be no limit to the extent of control coerced on every single aspect of life?" He sighed in disgust. "I have been asleep for a while—tell me Controller Hed—is there a limit on the air I breathe, or have you not come to an understanding on how to regulate it?"

The Controller smiled, "Assuming you are an air-breathing organism, your breathing is naturally controlled; there isn't a need to intervene. This topic is being debated by the Commission of Existence when it comes to non-oxygen based life. But I notice you did not wish to have the question answered. I only did so to prove a point. Control is a necessity, without it, Existence would cease. Mentality such as yours has caused grave pain and it might be the reason why many beings live oppressed by the corruption and greed of those whom believe in no limits."

Dez flinched, "then would you not agree that those individuals are being controlled by others. If control vanished, corruption could float to the surface where it can be captured."

"Sadly Sir, it doesn't work as easily. Control is essential because there are always some who wish to control and those who like being controlled, even if they claim otherwise. A taste of control intoxicates the soul and it corrupts it. Corruption, in turn, is anything that enslaves a person, perhaps control itself. That's why the Council is needed."

"Nothing can be as impartial, meaning the Council will always take a side. In your eyes, what makes the Council so adapt to rule others?"

"Nature." Controller Hed smiled again, proudly. "The energetic order that drives naturalistic processes are in constant communication with the Halls of Existence. Creation rules the Council."

"What a wonderful explanation—don't you agree guys?" Again the members were given a chance to take part, but we couldn't dare to do so.

"Take it as you wish, Sir." The woman circled around us while she spoke. "Our vehicles of communication transmit the pure instructions that make Existence. Each vehicle is individual and, at the same time, interconnected with one another." She completed the revolution where she had started, in front of Dez.

"Amazing." Dez clapped, laughed and made a mockery of her. "I would like to stay and talk about all sorts of things with you. Excuse my tone of boredom and frustration, I would really love to chat but, I'm afraid, greater concerns trouble me—how do we get out of here, Controller?"

She gave up on trying to explain her motives and those of the Council. "Name your land and as soon as a portal can be opened you can all be transported."

"That easy, huh? If only we would have known, this conversation could have been avoided." He laughed again, knowing that his uninterested attitude would bother her. "Fexorrous," Dez finally replied.

The mention of the land caused a brief perplexed look on the Controller's face. "Fexorrous." The woman repeated. "Impossible." Controller Hed shook her head in disapproval. "Obviously, someone like you would want to travel there. Your beliefs about control and freedom are compatible with the horrors to be seen in that forsaken land. Terrorist rulers walk the street as descended gods and the weakened population bows to kiss the dirt off their feet. The difference is that now, the people have forgotten what a free world is like, and they want nothing more than to live in oppression. Lands such as those should be banned from Existence. Extermination would be ideal."

"The word terrorist should not be thrown so lightly. Are you not afraid of being called a terrorist yourself? Innocent people live there also, slaves to that corrupt system. Your words prove how little you know of Fexorrous, and not all leaders have been terrorists, and not all will."

"I admire thoughts of compassion but it is those innocent slaves of corruption who should be exterminated. The ideas carried by the oppressed would only spread the virus. Where the virus is contained, no one is immune because it lives within them. Even the innocent are sick. The only way to stop the disease is to eradicate it. However—" She collected her words and admitted, "I understand the atrocity in which such actions would result in. Anyways—travel to and from Fexorrous is rarely permitted. Opening a portal to that land can be dangerous and we cannot assure what travelers will encounter once there. The bigger problem is we cannot predict what might escape into the Council, or worst into the Halls of Existence. Our people cannot be exposed to that level of indecency."

"Our travel is of grave importance," Dez scowled. "I trust you will understand."

"If you are all in agreement, then a formal petition can be presented to the court. Let me inform you that a Forsaken Agreement must be signed by each individual. The Council is not responsible for your well-being and petitioning a return is frowned upon by the Council. Once there, you will all be on your own."

"That is fine with us," Dez responded, "preferable even." He added.

"For record keeping purposes, the Council where each individual is coming from must be verified, along with your place of birth and life granting Certificates."

"We are all coming from the Human World, Earth, and we were all born in Fexorrous." Except for me, but interrupting their conversation was not to be attempted.

"Coming from Earth?" Controller Hed was impressed. "How did you manage that? Earth creation laws prohibit transportation. As impossible as it is to enter, it's even more impossible to leave, unless—" She looked at Dez with a crushed semblance on the verge of disintegration, overcome by anguish. "Sir, you've failed to mention your name, who are you?"

"Only because Controller Hed failed to ask, I am Dez." He stared at her, looking at tears slip down the Controller's face.

"The Great Dez of Fexorrous," She muttered. "Guards," it was a miracle she managed to speak. "Guards, arrest this man!" The guards had been closely, standing behind us. Hastily, they yanked Dez from the group and dragged him out of the room. The rest of us, Gilcome, Netania, Jacknell and I remained in disbelief. Dez' agitated screams penetrated the room and called to us.

"You will let him go now!" Netania yelled at the Controller.

Jacknell held her back. "Controller Hed, that was unnecessary. Dez might have been disrespectful but he is harmless. Let him go, we need him to proceed with our voyage." He softly begged, as if he could hypnotize her into his will.

"Come with me." The Controller showed the way as we followed her into a room behind the judging panel. The walls were covered with thick, dark fabric. She separated one set of curtains under which remained a white wall. Instantly, the wall fell forwards, forming a passageway between the room and empty space. "Go ahead." Once we had all made it across, Controller Hed instructed us to step in the center of the walkway.

While we stood there, I thought of Ms. Baynes and Mr. Zorga. Surely they wouldn't have allowed this to happen to Dez. I missed them. Dez' cause was destroyed, once again. He had committed a grave mistake in selecting the members for traveling, he had chosen us, those incapacitated by inexperience.

***

"The one called Dez," A man entered the Halls of Existence and ran towards the Council where he dropped to his knees and begged to be listened to. With his left hand he struck the air forwards, forcefully, unafraid. Images dropped from the invisible cracks of his mind and infected everyone in the room with the notion of what would one day occur. The members gasped as we saw the elderly man gift the Council images of our lives, our House and our quest to free Fexorrous. What followed was war and destruction, and our eyes became overwhelmed. A collision of two energy sources caused the inevitable destruction of lands, civilized and uncivilized. The reaction resulted in the death of the Committee of Existence. "I have tampered with not only the order of time, but with its energy. I have dipped into other sources of life, creating an imbalance which has exploded out of my control. Prevention is the only hope left. No one should experience what my creations are bound to become. Stop us. The man called Dez must not be transported by the Council."

The lady Controller unpowered the illusion and after having returned to the Council room, she asked, "Are we to ignore the man's warnings when it is our destruction he warns against; one caused by the four of you led by Dez?" The answer remained unspoken. We knew only one person could have access to images of our lives and, more so, only one person possessed the knowledge to travel inter-dimensionally through time.

"It's impossible," Netania whispered. "How could he have done this to us? Does he hold nothing sacred?"

"The same question is held by the Council. Our concerns expand beyond the limit of your problems," she motioned a guard to approach and had him turn his back to us. Printed in the middle of his neck was the name of the man in question: Dez. The Controller let a tear slip, she parted her hair and turned to show the same mark on her neck. To the left side of the room, a large, golden frame hung from the wall. "This document," The Controller explained, "grants full rule to the enactor of the Council." She lowered her voice and asked in desperation, "How can we grant him this power when he has forgotten to remember us? Our creator has forgotten us and in the future will destroy us."

"Dez created the Council?" Jacknell asked out loud. "He has no recollection of it."

"We theorize that the time spent away, created a barrier between the Council and Dez' remaining memories. Therefore he couldn't be linked to it emotionally. The Council has waited an eternity for his return. All we have ever wanted was to praise and worship him, to give our lives for him. There's no greater pain than that of being rejected by the Creator. Each and every one of us were created for the mere purpose of serving him and now we are purposelessly, standing in his way."

"Follow my lead," Jacknell whispered to us. "No," An idea had come to him and he hoped it would light the way. "No one is without purpose," He told the Controller. "Dez' wishes have always been the same. You can still serve him, you can be of use to him. Dez wants to free his people from slavery, from pain and damnation. This is the chance to worship your Creator, help us get to Fexorrous. Help him."

"What about the future, our future and the future of Existence?" As depicted by the old man, the fate of Existence was unbearable for her. Who but the Creator could know about such fate? It was a simple conclusion: Dez had warned the Council of his own wrongdoing and in an effort to protect Existence, ordered his own capture. Controller Hed faced a real dilemma and any path taken would disappoint her Creator. Was a vison from the future Creator powerful enough to veto the decisions of the past and present Creator, even if he had no notion of who he was? These soldiers had been made to follow the commands of the Creator, they were not created to question. This was the reason why the command of a future Creator would be ignored even if he announced our doom, his doom and the doom of Existence.

One way or another, Dez was going to arrive in the land of Fexorrous because he was the Council's ruler and his will was more than a simple command. Even if it was a confused will, blinded by hate and the need for revenge, it would be respected because it was the ultimate will. It reigned and walked the way of power, yet it was thirsty and there would never be enough to quench its thirst.

The Controller escorted us to the holding room where Dez had been detained. During the walk she continued to express her confusion and she almost begged for an opinion, but Jacknell would not dare to speak again, no one would. The empty room was brightened by tall windows letting in unrealistic views of nature. Dez faced the main window, lost in time. The guards and the Controller left and we were left alone with him. Jacknell closed the door. When Dez heard the creaking of the door he turned in surprise. "We have to go!" Dez exclaimed. "Whatever they said is not important, our journey must continue."

Netania moved close to him and spoke in a firm manner, demanding his attention. The tone of her words was sharper than a silver dagger. "They said you would destroy Existence, should we ignore that?"

He fell to his chair again and while staring into space said, "So it must be true. I am one of them, one of the Creators."

"Dez," Jacknell moved to his side, "what is going on? Is there a chance these people are lying?"

"There's always a chance Jacknell, but they aren't. They all bear my mark. I created a race who has turned against me."

"Against you?" Netania growled. "Dez, they have profound evidence suggesting that your quest will destroy the principles of Existence, this includes those of Fexorrous as well. We will destroy everything!" She expressed her rage towards him once again and I understood why she felt this way. Because of him we had all lost a bit of ourselves and to follow his quest meant we would be known as terrorists of time. There was an aftertaste to her feeling of anger; something more that had the power to spark the wrath that could be visible beneath her eyes.

Dez responded peacefully, placing one of her hands in-between his. "A creator only creates and if it is disaster what results from my creations, there is someone whose purpose is to stop me. The person isn't you my dear, and it isn't one of them either. My actions cannot destroy Existence. Because I hold time and space closely, I can see now why I was chosen as one of the Creators. For a very long time now, I have been able to experience all aspects of time at once, because dear, time is non-existent."

She listened to his words intently and while they seemed to contradict each other, to her, Dez' words meant freedom. She gave into their meanings, bending to his will, unable to resist, succumbing to his wishes as I had done when his voice called my name in the Plains—later I would learn it hadn't been his voice at all—. Dez' magnetism had no limits, we were all inferior to him. We stood no chance and allowed everyone else to dictate a path to follow.

"I'm scared." Netania revealed.

"I know, but I am here now and won't leave you again my child. Together we'll triumph. The plan has fallen on me, onto my being. My consciousness is one with nature, everything will be as it should. It is beautiful Netania—you believe me, right?"

She lowered her head. Jacknell stared at her, waiting for her to answer Dez's question. I could feel the strength of his eyes on her, trying to make her strong, wishing she wouldn't fall into Dez' trap again. Then she finally answered, "Yes, father. I do." Before, in the past, I had been broken. Now, at this moment, the world's weight had fallen on the scattered pieces of my being. Gilcome scanned my face for a sign, I looked at his. He hadn't known either but Jacknell had and couldn't dare to face me. The looks intensified as Netania realized her slip and panicked. "June, I was going to tell you." Of course she was, because she had always been honest with me. "I wanted to tell you, I promise I wanted nothing more." As her words approached me I discovered no angry or sad feelings within me, but I wouldn't let her know. "Look at me, June. I'm sorry."

"Dez is your father?" Gilcome asked her out loud, wanting to hear a confirmation. "But you're also June's aunt?" His confusion indulged me. "That means—Oh." He paused, trying to grasp the concept. "Wasn't June's grandfather dead?"

Unable to keep the thought away, I answered his question, "No, just asleep." I opened the door, wanting to escape.

"June, come back. We have to talk." Netania's voice disappeared as the door slammed behind me. The guards did not try to stop me, no one did. Soon, when there was nowhere left to run to, a place called me. It guided my energy through a set of studded doors leading outside. A wooden bench soaked in the shade coming from the tree under which it stood. Resting on it, I could enjoy the view of the small pond a few feet away. The energy of my body spread into the freshness outside, then rapidly came back to me, revitalized. The bench felt warm and accepting of my energy. Beneath it, a sea-blue flower bud was beginning to bloom. It would come to the peak of its life, then one day dry. Birds sang when I closed my eyes and made me understand that I was witnessing pure life in its true form. I was part of something, finally. In fact, I was part of everything: Existence and I were one.

After moments of blissful silence, his voice interrupted by calling my name. They had sent him to find me, "June, we've been searching for you." Gilcome took a spot next to me on the bench. He wore a striking glance, the one that tried to read the confusion in my mind, "I know why you ran from them, but why did you run from me?" Gilcome had always been great at finding answers, he drew them from me easily; with just one look. So looking at him made me uncomfortable because I knew he could see and he liked knowing that I knew. "June?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you want to talk about Dez?"

"No. He will always be unpredictable and will have no concern for my feelings and neither will the rest of the members. I have been nothing but an instrument to them." For a long time my thoughts towards the members and Dez were kept inside, but the time had come to let someone know because someone had to know. "I kept trying to make myself believe that I was a member too, that I was part of the House. Now, what's the point? Dez doesn't worry me."

"I believe you." He didn't, he couldn't because I didn't. Gilcome had access to the thoughts behind emotions, the ones that caused them, but he also knew more. His face always held a look that tried to hide what he knew; a universal secret, maybe something about himself, or something about the general concept of life. Whatever it was, it was important, because he held it close and just when he thought I was catching up, he would stare at me in a way that would force me to look away. He knew I would always look away. "Dez is your grandfather and how you deal with it is your choice, but you must know that being his granddaughter puts you in a powerful position."

"Powerful? How can I be powerful around him when he outshines the universe?"

"That's my point, June. I came to realize that the Dez I had waited for, is not this Dez. It isn't fair to blame him for not being the Dez: that Dez doesn't exist. What follows our Dez is war, death and destruction. You saw it yourself. But it doesn't have to be that way, June, you can make your own path, one where you light the way."

"Why, Gilcome?"

"Why?" He repeated.

"Why are you telling me this when you know I can't?"

"Can't? Don't ever say that, June. Others can destine you with an inability but its power becomes heroically stronger when you yourself come to believe it. See, Nature will reign on its subjects, it will allow them to grow and open into a strange world of their liking. Before the subject knows it, Nature replaces it, renews it. This sprout you've been staring at," he lightly pointed to the blue, flower bud, "might never bloom, but if it does, just because it did, does not mean it will dry between the pages of a book or be ripped by the hand of an admirer. No, this flower, will last as long as I live and for the time after that. In my mind I'll see as it fleshly dances with the wind. This flower, this one, will never dry—June, if you could only see yourself like I see you." He had become one of them. I allowed my head to drop forwards, in disappointment. Gilcome wanted something from me, he wanted to use me. His genuine nature had been rapidly, ripped away as the desires of his ego took over.

"How do you see me, Gilcome? Like I can do anything I want? Like a source of energy, like a savior? What is it you want me to be?" My eyes watered because no one truly cared about my dreams, my wishes or my future. The abilities were outliving me, what they could do for the members, how they could save an already damned land from damnation. Abilities, which couldn't be reached or activated and everywhere I turned there was someone in grave need of them.

"I see you as June." Gilcome answered not understanding the distraught look on my face. "The one that likes to watch me while I clean the dishes when she thinks I'm not looking. The one who wishes for a dream of her own, a unique purpose. The June who uses her thoughts to send me messages hoping I could hear them. Look at me," he laughed because I was too embarrassed to even try. Then, gently he raised my head. "Why don't you look at me?"

"Stop it. I don't do that."

"Yeah, do what?" I could tell he was smiling and felt his eyes on me, waiting for a chance to meet mine.

"That thing with the messages, I don't even think about you! And I also don't look at you while you do the dishes."

"You do. And I really like it."

"Ok, you're crazy. Changing dimensions made you sick." He had been sick for a long time. It was a disease which not even the House could cure. As I came to find out, I had been suffering from it too: a disease of the soul. Contrary to my comments, the Halls of Existence had purified us because this was our home. Sitting out there, aware of myself and my surroundings, it was hard wanting to go anywhere else. The energy of this environment did not have to accommodate to mine, or to accept it, it was simple but complex. This was my Sanctuary, it had been created for me. "I don't want to leave. Ever."

"What about Dez? Have you forgotten that your parents and your grandmother Cora, are prisoners in Fexorrous?"

"But you said I could do anything. If there's power within me to change the path of my life and that of others, I can manage a way from here."

"No, we can't stay here together. You must go. I don't want you to stay." He was staying! Why could he stay and not me? Gilcome couldn't have decided before now, it hadn't even crossed his mind to stay and he didn't know he could. Who did he think he was to keep me from staying here: the only place I felt at home? The end of our friendship was marked by every step taken away from him and the bench. He tried to retain me but I pushed him back down and kept a steady stride until the bench diminished in the distance. I stopped near the rocks by the trees, away from pond.

When darkness dimmed the sky, nightly noises breezed close to my location. It occurred to me at that moment that sleeping on a tree branch would feel safer than on the ground where nocturnal predators could drive me out. The branches were wide so it was easy to arrange my body in the middle of them but the hauling of the wind kept me awake. Apart from Gilcome and I, other creatures took ownership of the night. Their eyes sparkled like stars and their screeching calls mocked my existence. I regretted leaving the bench and the comfort of the pond; leaving him.

The starlight lazily opened my eyes. The smell of fresh blood quickly awakened me. I had risen on the ground, next to the tree. The blood dripped from my forehead to the back of my head. My clothes were covered with it. For some reason, I ran back to the bench to check if Gilcome was alright. He wasn't there. Gilcome's name came out of my mouth in a frenzy. There was no answer and no sign of him after having scanned the field. What remained of him were droplets of blood on the bench, smeared across the sea-blue flower. I had to find him, to help him. He had said the energy within me was powerful and could be molded into my will. But to leave his life in the hands of my inexperienced abilities was foolish. What Gilcome needed was someone who could find him, someone like the Controller or Dez. I couldn't do it and wouldn't waste time trying, especially when the sky had begun to darken. It was a strange occurrence, since the morning light had wakened me sometime earlier. The path back to the Council sparkled before my feet. They would find him, they could.

***

Jacknell stood out in the hall, as if waiting for someone. There was a look of worry on his face. When he saw me, he ran and I collapsed in his arms, knowing that help was coming. "What happened, June?"

"...I think I...fell."

"Why is there so much blood on you?"

"I...was on a tree and then woke up on the ground and there was all this blood." My explanation did not come across very confidently. The words that came out of my mouth were doubtful, as if I didn't believe them, probably because there was a more important point needed to be made and it was taking a while to communicate its urgency. "We need to go back, Jacknell. Gilcome is in trouble. I couldn't find him. He is hurt too."

"We need a healer!" He yelled to one of the guards. "Gilcome is being cared for. He suffered an energy attack and fell from the Council's Panel."

"Where did you say he was?"

"Inside the Council's main room."

The guards carried my body into a healing room, where a man began examining my body.

Jacknell tried to retell what he had gathered from my explanation of the accident, but the man did not let him finish. "June has already been healed physically—there are no wounds on you."

"What about all this blood?" Jacknell seemed concerned in a way that bothered me. For a second he held his breath, then exhaled when the healer replied:

"It appears to be her own blood." The man examined the back of my head, pushing against it with his hand. "Is that painful?"

I shook my head.

"Who healed you?"

"No one. I haven't seen a single person since the morning." Including him, there were only two healers in the Halls of Existence and Netania.

Jacknell intervened. "If someone healed June, then why is there so much blood on her? Wouldn't the blood seep back into to the body? A proper Healer would never leave the blood trace to waste."

The man removed his eyes from my neck and replied, "That is what concerns me— someone has healed you." He wanted me to understand the importance of his words, but at the moment, all I cared about was Gilcome's health. "There are healing lines running across your spine. However, this healer did not have time to cut the connection correctly. It is important that you tell me who the healer was, else the healer will die from your wounds."

"No one healed me. I woke up on the ground and there was all this blood on me. I had slept on a tree the night before, so it must have been a fall."

Hearing my answer, made Jacknell furious. "Stop it, June. There are no trees in the Halls of Existence, let alone in the Council! You couldn't have fallen from a tree. Tell us the truth."

It was the truth. "It's not a lie! You can ask Gilcome all about it. He was there."

The healer excused himself and Jacknell insisted I was lying. "Gilcome hasn't left our side. He has been fighting for his life ever since you left. The energy attack was the strongest I have ever seen."

"That is not possible, Jacknell. Gilcome spent the night on a bench." He was with me, he had gone through the door also. "An energy attack? No, no he was with me."

"Energized beings suffer energy attracts when their energy becomes divided and their body cannot control its own decisions. His mind became completely divided and his energy could not flow seamlessly. At the moment of the attack he was standing on the panel, speaking to Controller Hed. She immediately called the healers. Netania offered to help, since she understood the flow of his energy." Jacknell paused wanting not to say more. "The fall broke his head and...his spine was severely injured."

"He's dying?" I looked away from Jacknell, not wanting to hear the answer. Gilcome had spent the day in The Sanctuary, with me, not here. He couldn't be dying, he couldn't be.

"June," Jacknell walked closer to the bed where the healer had sat me by. "I'm sorry, Netania is doing everything she can—there's something else you should know."

"What, about Gilcome?"

"No—how do I say this?" He murmured.

"Could it really be worse than this? Just say it, Jacknell."

"Netania and I wanted to tell you together, it doesn't seem like the right time to do so, but frankly, our lives burn on a short rope, compared to the speed of the universe... I wanted you to find out from us this time—first, you mustn't speak of this to anyone, especially not to Dez." Speaking to Dez was the last thing on my list of wishes. "Netania and I aren't going to Fexorrous with Dez," Jacknell finally blurted then waited for a response.

Who were they going with, then? How could they leave me alone with him in a land of horrors? The shock subsided when an idea manifested itself: I would be going with them. It was preferable to face Netania's lies and I actually enjoyed Jacknell's company.

"June, I cannot allow Dez to be in such proximity to Netania anymore. Her memories of our life before the House have started to progress. He always holds her back and keeps her from reaching her purpose, from being happy and feeling useful." She was the woman he had spoken of that day in his studio.

"So the woman is alive after all?"

"She had been dead inside before you arrived." The news wasn't a big surprise, although there had been doubts. It was clear in the way he spoke to and of her, in the way they looked at each other. "Netania agreed to go with me and start a new life. We don't owe him anything more. If someone can find Cora and your parents, it's him. Netania and I are useless to him."

"Not to me."

Hearing his words felt like being abandoned, yet again. "To you as well. You are equal to, possibly, more powerful than Dez. Anyone but the right person is in the way of you growing into your abilities. Besides, it will do you good to learn more about your grandfather. He is the only one who can come close to understanding you." All expected greatness from me because a moment of triumph had expanded into the possibility of tomorrow. With the end of the days of their tomorrows, the moment's anticipation grew. Bringing Dez back hadn't been my doing, at least not only mine. Even if he had awakened only because of me, all I had done was show up at the House. I understood there was something within me, it burned with passion for life, for knowledge, but it was not greatness. It was a simple drive to live.

As the day progressed news about Gilcome's state became less frequent. The man who had tried to heal me was called in the room several times. Controller Hed was also called in. By the time she had made an appearance, Dez had joined me outside the room. He positioned himself next to me. The Controller walked inside and I focused on trying not to acknowledge his presence. "Doesn't this feel like a distraction?" Dez asked, loud enough for me to hear. As much as I wanted to ignore him, his thoughts offered an answer wishing to be explored.

"Why?"

"There's blood on your clothes, yet you don't know why. Where were you yesterday? Gilcome was with you, wasn't he? Yet Gilcome has been in bed since the accident. He is giving us a chance; permission to leave."

"A chance you say? A chance for us to leave the Council. You would leave him here?"

"Definitely!" His words were harsh and unapologetic. "Gilcome is not suited for Fexorrous in this state. If by a great miracle Netania and the healers are able to re-calibrate his energy, most likely his body will be tied to a bed for the rest of his life—sorry, but I don't want to raise your hopes." Dez' words could never raise my hopes, even if he tried. "He wants us to go, June. Yesterday, Gilcome found a combination of phrases used to open a portal to Fexorrous. The Controller surprised him searching through her documents, thus the reason for his fall. She failed to notice he had taken the portal elements along with a set of instructions—not needed, in my opinion, as I have opened plenty of portals to, and from, Fexorrous in the past, to many other places as well." Dez boasted. After scratching his beard he looked upwards and examined my expressions. "Something he said troubles me—Gilcome asked, as a favor, that you would read the instructions to open the portal. For some reason he believed that you did not want to go to Fexorrous. He begged me to take you, by force if necessary. I set his mind at ease by reminding him that there were people who needed you at Fexorrous. You want to help them, isn't that the truth, June?" The bitter sound of his words melted into sadness. Looking at his appearance, the lonesome feeling that hugged him was evident. Dez missed his land, though he didn't say. He missed Cora and damned himself for every injustice she experienced, because it was his fault. Dez had doomed his family and his land. Going back to Fexorrous would prove that he was willing to fight for those loyal to him, those he had once left behind to die in the hands of whom he thought to be an unjust ruler.

Controller Hed exited into the hall and allowed Dez to visit Gilcome. She had relived me from having to give an answer. My feelings about Fexorrous had never been consistent. Gilcome had infected me with doubt, he was good at that and I encouraged him. Living with myself would never be possible knowing that there had been a time when I had the power to exhaust all measures, but instead my head had filled with doubts. Dez' misfortunes reminded me that people brought on their own fates. We are responsible for every path taken, for every decision, for every answer given and we must be able to accommodate the consequences. Everything that happens in our lives, we deserve.

Dez walked out of the room after a few minutes. The other healers and Netania followed. She approached me cautiously, not knowing whether or not to speak. She closed her eyes and hugged me. "I'm sorry." Netania whispered, "There's nothing else I can do." Having her to comfort me made me feel strong. "Gilcome asked to see you. Your name hasn't left his lips." Netania felt the uncertainty within me. Her face offered guidance, "You have to June, don't do that to him, you must see him."

I shook my head, in tears and hugged her tightly, "I don't want to say goodbye." To see him on his death bed would destroy me.

"Then don't say it, don't say anything if you don't want to. He needs to see you. It will make him happy." Why did he deserve to be happy now when his happiness could not erase the vile feeling which kept me from breathing? Standing in-front of the white door, it occurred to me that Gilcome's last moment of happiness could ruin the rest of my life. I was to be the last one to see him, his last memory. He wanted to die in my arms. My presence would allow him to be at peace, leaving me restless. Finally, I twisted the doorknob and a tear led the way of my feelings as it collided down against the ground.

The walk to the bed was long. Every step tempted me to run back. Gilcome laid motionless, with eyes half opened and a tired stare. The starlight peeked through an open circumference on the wall, highlighting the dark purple spot that spread into the side of his neck and face. The rest of his body was covered with a white sheet. Gilcome smiled the way he always smiled at me, a smile difficult to explain; proud and intriguing.

The firm weakness of his voice begged, "Don't look away." My hand had been resting by the side of the bed and he grabbed it when I wouldn't face him. Gilcome pressed his fingers against the palm of my hand as he had done in The Sanctuary. The stare slowly heated my face. Quickly, his grip strengthened when I tried to let go. "June—" The last words were about to follow. Defeat was the reaper.

"Don't. Fight it, Gilcome. Please, Gilcome, fight it. Don't go. You were right—"

"—I know I was but remind me why?" He laughed.

"You can't leave, you can't." I knelt down closer to him. Gilcome was the only one left. Life without him would be quiet, joyless and full of regrets. His absence equaled my damnation because just like Dez, there were feelings in me which questioned the nature of his injuries.

"From your lips, tell me why I can't leave, June. Maybe I can reconsider." Again, he laughed and I sobbed because he had no concern for my sorrow and the mourning left for me to take upon. Gilcome closed his eyes and murmured, "Why don't you want me to rest peacefully?" With him, Gilcome was taking all the peace in me.

"That day, in The Sanctuary..." My throat tightened, "I regret leaving you. Gilcome, I'm so sorry."

"What sanctuary?" He studied my face with a narrow stare.

"You were there. There were trees and blue-flower buds. Don't you remember?" My imagination could not have gone as far as having a one sided conversation or an argument with an imaginary being. He had been there.

"Have you been dreaming of me? Is that it, June?" Having me confirm it would have pleased him. To hear that my mind created scenes in which we were together, sounded like victory bells to him. The bells of hell rang louder in my ears.

"No. It was real—I should leave." The severity of his state had gone unnoticed.

"Wait." In between shallow coughs, he called in desperation. "Don't leave yet. Would you promise me something?"

"What good can a promise do, Gilcome?" If the promise could not be kept? But it was Gilcome who was asking, therefore he knew what to ask for.

"Promise you will remember me. The core of the universe will know of me then."

The coldness of his skin asked for warmth. I walked back to the bed and sat on by his side, carefully. Death had taken ownership of the sheets and intended in doing so to his body but not to him because I was close; too close to see the brightness which burned in his eyes. "The universe will know of me." A tear escaped his left eye and disappeared into the white pillow. "I will exist in your mind so that you can remember me. Don't cry, I won't give you time to miss me." With a smile his eyes closed. I stood by his side, staring, trying to see beneath; knowing he was no longer there. The healers removed me from the room, insisting on allowing him to rest. Though the body remained with life, his spirit had flown out into space in search of mine. The healers said there was energy in him, trying to offer me hope. Yet, the remaining energy wasn't his energy at all, it was traces of mine. When he squeezed my hand in fear of not being remembered, in fear of death, he extracted from me all feelings of fear. Gilcome knew that only fear could obstruct my way. It wasn't just any fear, it was all my fears, my self-doubt. He made me fearless because my biggest fears had come to pass.

***

The members were given quarters next to one another. Dez knocked on our doors immediately after, in a rush. He had made preparations to open a portal, without Controller Hed's consent. He didn't need her consent either way, Dez was her Creator. A Creator doesn't bow down to his subjects, he must be firm.

Netania and Jacknell continued their plan to separate from Dez and his, to-be, bloodthirsty quest. Her life would resume from the limbo state nurtured by the House, next to Jacknell. For many years Netania was no one, unable to reach her own spirit. She had allowed the House to suppress her dreams and hopes but now, finally, she would discover herself. My aunt was a mystery to her own self. Living the life of a stranger results shocking when the stranger awakens. There are strangers within us all, she had encountered one of hers. Both had to live in one, until more were identified and could complete her being. Jacknell would help the process and keep her mind fresh because obsessions lead to insanity loops, terminated only by complete madness. The self is interesting and vital. Understanding it is a gift, but coming to terms with our thoughts, actions and beliefs, overtime, becomes a process that drowns us in a pit filled with the strangers' blood. Netania was lost within, because the stranger wanted her to believe they had known each other forever. The stranger was correct. The turmoil of the self is greater than any other because the self lives in chaos, while searching for peace. Within peace there can only be found peace. I imagined the walkway of chaos was long, wide and wondered if somewhere in it, although not likely, peace could thrive.

When Dez left us, Jacknell looked at me. Then he hugged me and wished for my strength to develop. In his eyes no one deserved to be left in the charge of Dez. Having met him, we all felt the same. But everyone chooses their path in life. Sometimes we must follow others to reach the unpaved land. Jacknell and Netania had reached it, now they just had to pave their road.

At that moment, Dez and I only had each other. Hopes of reuniting with the rest of our family, were only hopes. Faithless hopes.

Alone, in the room, I thought of food. The members and I had not eaten since our arrival. We didn't have the need, or any need for that matter. The Halls nurtured our bodies to maintain our spiritual connections. Hunger and thirst were no more, but I missed sleep and the feeling of tiredness. I did not have the need to rest and so my actions felt robotic, like that of the Controller and the rest of Existence's residents.

A disturbance of thought marched through the corridor where we had been relocated to.

The strength of their footprints paraded through the length of the room. The noise stopped and the walls of the room became clear allowing sight of the commotion. A guard had been appointed to each door in the corridor. A bolting sound shook the barriers:

"Code Gray! Maintain visibility until target has been acquired. I repeat, Code Gray."

Dez was allowed out of his room and ran towards mine. He argued with the guard in front of my door, as his entrance to my room was prohibited. The glass thickened and kept their voices out. Dez pointed to me and the guard fixed his eyes on me. He tried to hide the inexperience that was implied by the young appearance. A dark, red robe covered his legs loosely and was adjusted by a wide, leather belt that rested on his waist. It matched the band on his forehead which kept his black hair pulled back. With both hands he held a long, engraved cane, his grip tightened from time to time. Dez had noticed the weapon, for a second his attention focused on it, then he looked away trying not to emphasize his interest. Dez pointed to the back of the guard's neck, then extended his arms up. The guard felt intimidated by Dez' remarks of creation, so he bowed and let him in.

"June, we must go." As he spoke, the wall separating my room from Netania's cleared into the thick glass and Dez exhaled with relief. From his pocket he took a silver box and a glass flask. The box was laid on the floor. After having breathed into the flask containing a black liquid, he doused the box with its contents. The silver box opened and began spinning the air around it. Dez signaled her to let herself in my room. Jacknell had joined her. "We must go. The portal won't hold much time—what are they waiting for?"

She looked at him with sadness and guilt, but Jacknell was there to stand by her wishes. He tapped the glass and pointed to the guard on our door, whom had noticed the formation of Dez' gravity field. The man panicked and banged the door repeatedly, but it wouldn't open.

"Go!" Netania mouthed, followed by "I love you."

Dez called her name but she couldn't hear. He placed his hands on the glass separating us, Netania did the same. Then she lowered her hand and turned away as I pulled Dez' jacket. "We have to go, Dez. They want to stay."

The guard pressed the alarm code and raised his weapon as a warning. Dez pushed a button on the side of the box, and the gravitational force became stronger. The guard gave a flip to the cane and as it fell into his hands, a slim sharp metal extended from the bottom. With it, he carved out a piece of the glass. Dez noticed and sent an energy wave towards the guard, pushing his body away from the room. The magnetism from the box pulled us in closer. I snatched a bag Netania had prepared for me and hung it across my body. "Dez, they're coming." The footsteps came back, an army of them. Their shadows, painted the corridor red.

"Hold on." There wasn't any time to hold on. The young guard had recovered his balance and was now charging towards us.

"He's coming, Dez!"

"Jump," Dez yelled. As I stepped both feet in, the young guard burst into the room with his weapon raised against Dez. Strained by the guard, Dez managed to push me deeper into the portal and I fell through, without him. 
Chapter Ten

A thick fog floated slowly from in-between the trees. Like a scared child, it approached me and drove me closer to the warmth of the setting star rays. The portal's opening had long closed, there was no going back. Nightly shades had begun to color the sky, when a ringing of bells startled me. The sound came from a towering structure visible in the distance, at the center of two peaks. Ear-piercing screams followed the ringing and a multitude of cries accompanied the cold, moist air. A stench of rotten flesh flowed in and around the trees, clinging to my nose.

Darkness evened out over the sky and a glimmer of light sparkled at the foot of the tower. The ringing of the bells returned, followed by ailing calls and the putrid smell of blood infused with pus. Then, quietness. Even the wind paused for a second, but then sped through the branches. It was then when the scariest of all noises came, the soft crushing of dried leaves: footprints. By the echo, I figured there were two of them. Carefully, I rose, trying not to give out my location but our paths were joined and it was a matter of seconds before they would find me. I searched through the bag, wishing Netania had packed the dagger Jacknell had gifted me. Dark tree shades made it impossible to find anything and I, quickly realized, looking for the dagger was useless. The thought of separating someone's skin with it was non-existent, using it was out of the question. My best bet was to remain motionless, hoping not to be noticed. The bag fell, hanging from my shoulder. As I stepped to the side of the tree, the full force of a man pinned me against its trunk.

"Oh June! For greatness, I've found you." He stumbled on the tree branches as he hugged me. A sigh of relief escaped him and safety reigned for a few seconds. We squatted between the trees searching for wood to build a fire. The ringing of the bells began once more. Dez' face hardened and he closed his eyes deeply, trying to ignore their screams. But even when their cries for help had evaporated from the air, a mist of anguish remained.

"The bells mark every hour. Every hour marks a death show. The screams are not from those physically suffering, but from their loved ones."

"How can people gather to watch such a thing? How can people stand to live under corruption and fear?"

"That's why we are here. Not everyone is a leader, the people need guidance and most of all, hope. They are all broken. All those years ago, I thought my absence would allow Lord Seb Creat to grow into a fair leader. I thought the torturing of those who knew me, would end." Dez handed me a few twigs. "Those ripped from an evil core want to spread roots, even if they are fed pure water." When we had gathered enough logs, I set them together. Dez began mumbling words to his fire-calling spell. "I should have written my callings somewhere." He ran his hand through his head and assured me he was on the right track. "What was that last word? It started with an...ugh. Maybe an...agh?"

I hugged my knees together when the wind picked up. The leaves shook and a silky fabric flowed lightly behind Dez. I noticed his feet next, an accomplished smile brightened the man's face.

"Dez!"

Not having noticed the guard, Dez replied. "Almost got it, dear." Still working on the fire calling.

Taking advantage of his distraction the guard pressed a spear against Dez' back. "One move and you are dead." He quickly clasped Dez' hands with silver shackles.

"How dare you?" Dez yelled and mumbled some words under his breath.

To answer Dez' dumbfounded expression, the guard responded in chuckles, "Those," he pointed to the shackles on Dez' hands, "are called to suppress the callings of overly-energized beings, such as the Great Dez."

"You shouldn't have wasted them on him." My response took them both by surprise. The guard pulled Dez by the long chain into the ground and stepped closer towards me, pointing his spear upwards. Out of the guard's sight, Dez signaled to run but I wouldn't leave him. "I am June Corpelle; Granddaughter of the Great Dez and you haven't brought shackles to suppress energy such as mine." The guard was around my age and I thought a few strong words would convince him quickly. It was hard to concentrate, having Dez in the background making hand signals. The spear frightened him, his eyes were fixed on it, trying to figure out what kind of weapon it was. Dez pulled the chain connecting him and the guard.

"Run now, June." But running would cause the guard to follow me and it was an action taken by prey. I wasn't his prey. The spear glimmered under the flickering from the tower. While the guard acknowledged Dez' comments, I pulled it from underneath him and pushed him with its back. The spear diminished in size and fell to the ground. After losing his balance the guard laughed; capturing me would be easy. Now I was his prey and my only option was to run. A higher grace was with me because running was my weapon and of that, he was unaware of. After a few turns I had lost him.

A small mount of rocks offered a better vintage point. If I could locate Dez before the guard, we had a chance of escaping and reaching the city. We were too close to let a single man stop us. A sudden pull on my leg caused my balance to shake. The weight of my body crashed against one of the rocks, shattering the bones of my wrist into pieces. A loud, agonizing scream escaped me as I felt the guard approach. "Now you can feel special too." He knelt down, close to me on the ground and whispered smugly, "I brought shackles for you as well, lady June. Hopefully, they are of your likeness."

Without concern for my pain he yanked the wrist from under my body and clasped both my hands with the shackles. "Come on, stand." As he tried to raise me up, I kicked one of his legs and he fell on the ground. With my elbows, I crawled a few feet away on the harsh, rocky path. Trying was of no use. He grabbed my foot and dragged it towards him. The sharp rocks ripped the skin of my arms, neck and chest. "If you do not wish to walk, I will drag you through the ground. Of something you must be sure, Lady June, under my watch and by the rule of the Council, you and your grandfather will be brought back to the Halls of Existence—Stand or I will drag you!" The guard pulled my arm and brought me to stand. I stared like a wild animal in captivity, trying everything and anything to reach freedom, knowing that the start of our quest could be steps away. "Walk, in front." He moved behind me at a quick pace. I lowered my head in search of something to hit him with. There was a stone up ahead, about the size of a fist. "Keep moving." Startled by his yell, I missed the chance to grab it. The guard turned his head to grab the large chain connecting my shackles to his body. Distracted from the ground, I knew he would trip on the same rock. As he stumbled to gain his balance, I tried to get away, still shackled.

The guard ran behind me and pressed me against a trunk. "Nice try. Ah you were so close." After having fastened the chain to his belt, the guard laughed. "Let's go." He bent his back and threw my body over his shoulder.

"Don't touch me! Put me down, now." I kicked my legs. "Put me down."

"This is the only way. My patience is running out and I would hate to hurt you any further." He carried me as the night darkened. The guard took a couple of turns in the direction towards Dez and the tower. We saw the light extinguish and were left blind.

"Where are we going?" I felt the tiredness of his body. "Maybe we should stop and rest."

"Once we find Dez, we can stop."

"We passed that way long ago." Alone, given the time, Dez could maybe manage to escape. If the guard couldn't find him, we couldn't return to the Council. He would not risk showing up without him.

"Glad you're trying to help, but I know the way." He adjusted me and kept moving.

"If you put me down, I promise to do as you say. My legs are numb."

"No." He answered, dryly. Unable to resist any more, sleep overcame me. The pain of my wrist pounded through the length of my body and kept me from a deep rest. I felt his hands move to my neck and hips as he placed me on the ground when we reached Dez' location. After that, I can only remember leaving both men arguing.

***

A rushing sound of water resumed my sleep when the morning arrived. The sight of a shallow river surprised me and the absence of both men dawned on me. The guard's red robe had been laid to cover my body from the morning dew. I took it with me and walked closer to the river bank. The current of the river flowed slowly, washing away the dirt covering the guard's skin. He seemed to enjoy the coolness of the clear water, a few feet away from the shore, unaware of my presence.

"Hey!" I yelled. "Where's Dez?" My voice startled him.

"Good morning to you too. Did you have a nice rest?" His attempt at seeming caring infuriated me. I had been chased, handcuffed, my wrist had been broken and my skin scratched. How could someone rest with a broken body? The guard was taunting me, that's what it was. While I slept, he had killed Dez and now he wanted to rub his victory in my wounded face. "He went to pick us some food." While answering, he moved closer to the shore. "Seeds, berries, anything." The water reached at his waist. I scanned the area for Dez but all I could see was the guard's shoes along with the rest of his clothes, thrown at the foot of the river. As he continued to exit the water I turned my body away, allowing him to get dressed.

"Dez went to gather some food? Am I supposed to believe that you let Dez go on by himself?"

"We had an understanding—your...shoes are on my shirt."

"Excuse me?" In trying to look away, my feet had firmly, stepped over his shirt, leaving muddy prints. I bent quickly and tried to wipe them off, but the mud only spread. I felt embarrassed but not sorry, not after all he had done, and considering the cuffs were still on my hands. "Here." A drop of water and blood ran down the side of his torso from a shallow wound. "So why the change in attitude?" Dez had brainwashed him and for once Dez had made me proud. "Are we still your prisoners?"

"You were never my prisoners. But we are all prisoners now, or are soon to be, if Dez doesn't find a way quickly. The Fexorrous militia knows of our arrival and is probably searching for us. Yesterday while you slept, we heard noises of a woman screaming. Close to the gate by the tower, men in uniform guarded the entrance. The old woman was bent before them, one of the men pulled her hair, making her head move upwards. They all laughed as they looked into her terrified eyes. June, she was defenseless. She could barely stand on her own. 'Save me.' The woman called out to the birds circling around the men.

A man carrying a metal box, replied with disgust, 'No one will save you. No one will save any of you. Kneel to Seb Creat and you will be repaid beyond your dreams.' The words struck my thoughts." The guard confessed. "One of the men, picked up a branch and drove it into the side of her eye. The eyeball popped from her skull and the guard pulled it into the metal box. They said Lord Creat would be happy to have the eye of a Seer. 'Save me.' She called again and this time, the calling was directed to me; she could feel my presence. One of the other men debated whether to carve the remaining eye out, but decided against it, since the 'Lord' had only asked for one.

'Tell those you know, Seb Creat was merciful in saving the pureness of the remaining eye, for your left eye was poisoning your spirit. Truly, you should thank him forever.' Afterwards, the old woman was carried inside the gates. Her cries of agony, revolted my stomach. While the doors closed, she yelled loudly, 'praised be Lord Seb Creat. The Lord allowed me to keep my vision.' Upon returning, Dez asked what I had seen, and watched me puke. Sarcastically, he welcomed me to Fexorrous, and my heart dropped as the name flowed from his mouth. Certainly, Existence was punishing me for being a mediocre Council Guard. My fate as a guard has been murdered and my post will be no more." The guard looked away, disappointed. "During our time of training, Controller Hed prepares us to recite and sign a document of purification. If a guard ever enters Fexorrous and by the power of Existence he returns to serve in the Council, he must be purified by death." The man explained, trying to keep his composure. "The corruption in Fexorrous lives in the air and a corrupt guard cannot serve the Council. In the minds of all, entering Fexorrous is the greatest unlikely event but everything is unlikely until it comes to pass, right?" He chuckled and noticed my eyes had fixed on his wound. "Admiring your work? Looks better now."

"What?"

"The gash on my ribcage, I bet you never thought you could stab a man."

"I didn't."

"June, don't be modest. It was a nice, big one, and took me by surprise too. My complements." The guard smiled and bowed. "Come on, tell me, how did you override my command? The spear only works under my hand." The spear had only knocked him to the ground because I had only used the back end of it, stabbing him wasn't possible.

"—Brox!" Dez appeared from the trees behind the guard, caring my hat, which he had filled with large, round-like, purple fruits. "Did the potion ease the pain, Brox?"

"Yes, thank you Dez. I cleansed it along the river rocks, like you said." The guard responded.

"—June! You've awakened."

"To find, yet, more craziness — not to worry, I don't feel left out at all. Also, my wrist doesn't hurt because the guard, or your best friend, Brox, is it? Well, he never smashed it against a rock. Oh and more good news, we aren't in Fexorrous and an army of guards isn't trying to kill us."

"Brox," Dez mocked. "June is jealous because you fancy me more than her."

"Dez!" I pinched his arm.

"Now you've made her mad." Brox laughed. "She's blushing, how lovely." Both men laughed and their amusement angered me.

While still laughing, Dez wished the last part wasn't true, but the Fexorrian guards were searching for us. "I almost ran into their squad while picking these." After grabbing one of the purple fruits, he tossed it in his mouth. "They said they had heard strange commotions and the energy detectors in the forest had picked up unusual activity."

"They are tracking us then?" Brox asked. "It will just be a matter of time before they trace our energy signatures."

"Not by the river." Dez replied, passing along the hat so that we could eat. "The detectors don't work by the river. The water current purifies the air around and the signal is lost. Failure of the system." He smirked, feeling certain. "Eventually they will reach the river, so we cannot stay here forever. There's a lot of ground to cover so we should head out as soon as possible." Dez placed a few river rocks in a sack and walked away to keep watch while Brox and I ate. The purple fruits were bitter and had a slimy texture. I picked one or two and left the rest alone.

Brox seemed to enjoy them and insisted I should eat more, since we had a long journey ahead. "The water was nice and cool. At least clean your face while there's flowing water, also you smell funny."

"Excuse me? I do not!"

He laughed, the purple fruits had stained his lips. "At least wash the dirt on your face, the scratches might get infected." The guard helped me up and noticing the weakness he offered to help. His help wasn't necessary and if it hadn't been because of his thirst to be acknowledged as a great Council Guard, Dez and I could have reached the city already.

"I can do it myself."

"Not properly." He answered, and gathered water on a piece of fabric torn from his red robe. As he carefully pressed the cloth along my cuts, he whispered, "I'm sorry." Then he fixed my neck still to dry my face on the rest of the robe. That day had been the most frightening of my life. No one had ever, physically, shown how much they desired to hurt me. "It wasn't my intention to be so rough. I thought if I brought you both back, Controller Hed would praise me and present my family with Life Rights Certificates. There's no use now, I'm damaged." His semblance saddened. "Corruption surrounds me, I've been stripped of my Incorruptibility." It was hard for him to accept the new fate. Brox's life at the Council was no more. He feared that his brothers would now have to become guards immediately, in order to receive their Certificates or else they would be sent to the concentration school. Those uncertified to live, competed to receive Certificates of lower levels. Only twenty qualified out of five hundred: ten women and ten men. At the age of sixteen, children were encouraged to enroll in preparation classes. Any who reached age twenty without certification would be sent to the concentration school. Those stamped as irreparable would be given a day to be with their family. When the day was over, the irreparables would be executed. Brox explained that the reasoning for the Certificates was a revolution for the wellness of the race of the being. "Some should not be allowed to live, because they tarnish our image."

"Do you honestly believe that?" Certificates granting the right to live didn't exist in my world. I remember the Controller had asked for mine when I arrived at the Council. I imagined being Dez' granddaughter granted me the right to live, else they would have sent me to the concentration school.

"Usually those executed are murderers, thieves, liars, those with high potential of becoming criminals, and those serving no purpose. It is a qualification system that works well, plenty of tests and analysis are run before a person is executed."

"Then if the system is so perfect, why are you worried about your family?"

"I'm not," he responded. "I just wanted to provide them rights to mine. So they could be proud." The right to live of a guard was passed on to any of his choosing. The guard trials extracted fear and greed through training. The trials enhanced their perceptions and converted them to an incorruptible league, therefore their judgment wasn't questioned. "The Controller holds all of the guards' Certificates. Outside the Halls of Existence, land leaders are responsible for keeping citizens' Certificates."

"June, Brox! Come, hurry!" Dez yelled from a distance. Thinking that he had been captured, we sprinted towards the sound of his voice. "Isn't it beautiful?"

On the ground, surrounded by the river rocks, Dez had created a flame, burning like a halo.

"What is that?" Brox asked.

Dez dismissed his question. "Quickly, dip your hand in. We don't have much time!"

"In the flame, the burning, fiery flame?"

"Yes..." He was serious, insanely serious.

"Will this serve a purpose, besides burning our skin?" Brox hesitated before crouching to approach the flame.

"Don't do it." I whispered, bending down next to the flame.

"Be quiet, June. Both of you, dip your hand in! It won't hurt one bit." He yelled. "Listen to me well and keep this encrusted in your brains: everything I do has a purpose."

"You first!" Brox gave my shoulder a soft push.

"Nah uh," I shook my head.

"Oh for the love of Existence." Dez crouched next to us, grabbing our hands, he pushed the three of them inside the flame. An explosion of light blinded me. The flame entered beneath my nails and dragged the fiery sensation upwards, exiting through my ears. The three of us fell backwards after.

Brox recovered first and yelled, complaining, "You said it wouldn't hurt!"

"I hoped it wouldn't. No worries now, it's over." Dez stood and called to follow. "Our energies are proofed now, they cannot track us as long as the flame burns. We walked along his side while he explained the process. He thanked Existence for having remembered to write down an untracking calling. "There was a book in my library which contained my callings as reference. The page containing the untracking flame was bent at the side. Can you imagine one of the members dared to read my books and tried my callings! I questioned each member to find Grant as the culprit."

"Grant Gilcome?"

"Yes," Dez confirmed. "I guess there's plenty he forgot to disclose." Unaware of the sensitivity of the subject, Dez continued, hurting me with every word. "He always seemed mysterious to me, but I thought you guys were close enough." The mention of Gilcome's name stunned me. Before Dez' arrival, he had obsessed over Dez' work. The night when he created the potion that allowed us to leave the House, played vividly in my mind; it was the last time I had visited the Plains. "Gilcome confessed he had worked on my untracking callings. It made me furious. How dare he look in my books? Especially my Book of Callings, the members were not supposed to look through my callings; not the untracking flame or any of them. Why would they need it when the House provided an extensive barrier? Unless of course, he wanted to leave the House and that's what he had planned. But his calling to my spell never worked. Anyways thanks to him, I was able to remember the flame calling. So, thanks are due, wherever his spirit exits." Dez bowed.

Brox did the same, "to Gilcome."

"Are you sure his spell didn't work?"

"Positive. To start with, the House did not contain the elements of the spell. Gilcome assured me he could only create the liquid part of the potion, but could not call the flame to burn. Without the flame the potion doesn't work. In this case the potion is not needed, since I used cleansing river rocks and they carry cleansing water."

Why would Gilcome have done something like that? Why had he risked our lives? It did not matter now when he was no more, except that it did. I was terrified to admit it, but no one could ever hurt me more than Gilcome. No, because his dying wish had come true. There wasn't a more selfish person. Every second in every minute, thoughts of him crowded my mind. His stupid smile, his lies, his laugh, his stories, his...stupid, sweet smile. All of him lived, like an unwanted guest in my mind. It was impossible to forget him and his words and the way he spoke to me. I wished he were alive only to tell him how much I desired to erase him from my mind and that I hated missing him. "He knew it wouldn't work?"

"Of course he knew. A boy such as him wouldn't dream of accomplishing callings of a higher level. He could only hope. I thank his hopefulness," Dez laughed and continued the path to the city. Brox shot me a quick look as if he understood something Dez couldn't. The tower bells began to ring when he reached the half-way point and the rotten flesh smell became stronger. My stomach weakened and we decided to stop for the night. Dez took the opportunity to examine my wrist; the pain wasn't bothering me as much. He concluded it wasn't broken, just sprained and left to gather healing leaves to wrap it in. Picking leaves at night infused them with healing energy.

Dez had been spending too much time off by himself and that was concerning, due to his unpredictability. Brox offered to accompany him, but Dez insisted he should look after me. I didn't need looking after, but the hauling night scared me so I was happy to have Brox. The flame was left in our care. It illuminated our faces and warmed the chilliness of the foggy night.

"Will you ever take these off?" I rubbed my weakened wrist, sliding back the unchained shackles that remained like bangles on my arms.

Brox studied me for a while, undecided. He had already unshackled Dez, the only one with abilities to call his death. "Fine." There was something plaguing his mind. Brox had been distressed since our departure away from the river. We moved closer to the flame so that he could open what remained of the cuffs. "How was your life like before the Council?" It was a strange question since he knew various facts about my life, all guards did.

"Didn't they teach you about it in service school?"

Brox chuckled at the conceited nature of my comment, realizing it had been a joke. "Honestly, it wasn't my favorite subject." The flame illuminated Brox's smirk as he put the cuffs in the bag besides us. "Would you tell me about your world? I want to know if there's hope for Existence." Not a single thing originating from that world rendered hope for pure life, except within the nature of the mankind. Hope feeds strength to those faced with disappointment and failure. Even when we have given up, hope remains to show a new path. However, the path is destined to mislead us because hope cannot come without doubt.

"It's a place where the lives of many are based on the hope for a different life. They live upon deceit, never satisfied with themselves. Always searching for purpose. The sad majority, confines their time to accumulate as much wealth as possible. Hypnotized by greed, power is able to justify their existence; they call it success. There is nothing they love more than denying their need to be admired by their intelligence, beauty, wealth or talents. The worst of them are those who revere the accomplishments of others in high regard, feeling intimidated by the material achievements of others. It's easy to destroy their spirits by lowering their living standards to the pleasure received from vanity and materialism. In the name of charity, they make themselves feel better, believing evil isn't within, after having preformed an act of kindness."

"—much like Fexorrians." Brox interrupted, noticing that Dez had returned with a handful of healing leaves. Sitting across from the side of the flame, Dez softly called to the leaves, making sure not to interrupt our conversation.

The rage against my nature, oozed like a bright aura around us. Human nature had never felt comfortable on my being, my kind disgusted me and because of it I was its perfect representation. "Worst, maybe." The flame sparked, as a laugh masked the fear behind the idea.

"More than anyone," Brox crawled closer, making sure only I could hear, "you should know that not everything is truly as it seems to be." The comment was startling, but not more than his actions. His finger touched my face, sliding a lock of hair behind my ear. He leaned closer. The warmth of his words brushed the skin of my neck in a whisper, "Despising one's nature is a result of dysfunctional emotions. Don't trouble yourself understanding why you still feel strongly for him, just feel."

Arriving in this land had served to mend my relationship with Dez. I had come to admire the passionate confidence in which he carried himself. Seeing him through the brightness of the flame, alone, concentrated in his calling of the healing leaves, I wondered what he must have felt all those years frozen in time. "There's no anger towards him anymore, Brox. I have grown to love Dez, not only as my grandfather but as a mentor." Admitting it, felt peaceful and there remained the hope that he would one day, be proud to call me his granddaughter.

"Not Dez, June, you know of whom I speak. He lives among the darkness in your eyes, his energy is fed by your rage. The more you wish to forget him, the harder it will be. "

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Pretend all you want."

Dez brought over the healing potion when he had finished mashing them. A drop of the liquid was rubbed onto my wrist and later wrapped with the remaining leaves. A minty smell distracted me from the itchy sensation. "What were you two talking about?" He became curious when neither of us responded. "It was about me, wasn't it?" Angered by our silence, he stood up and scolded us. "After all I'm doing to keep you both alive and get us into Fexorrous, all you can do is sit here and talk about me? Unbelievable."

"We were talking about June's world."

"Oh," Dez sat back down quietly, eager to have a say on the subject. "What did you learn?"

"Not much," Brox chuckled, "June can only speak of the dull nature of the human race and their lack of interest in pure self-discovery."

Dez scoffed, "Don't pay too much attention to her words," he rolled his eyes. "Their true problem comes from an inability to identify the emotions being processed by their brains. Their senses allow them to, strongly, contain multiple emotions, sometimes contradicting ones, at the same time. It's no wonder why the half of them are crazy. They make up for it by creating the most imaginative beings in Existence. For those few ones, everything is possible.

After leaving Fexorrous, I came to find a world where people just wanted to escape their daily pains. In their eyes, the flow of my energy was more than natural. Because in their world it's nearly impossible to fathom the existence of other kinds, I was accepted as one of them, although, it was clear to them I was different. That's how I became their Magician. With my talents, I was able to provide entertainment. During summer nights, after long hours of work, they would gather along an empty piece of land set in the middle of South Ranches.

A stranger, passing through worlds, I came back every night because they expected me. They wished for me to trick their minds into believing there was more to life than living the life of a human. These people needed me and worshiped me with their humility. As ruler, Fexorrians could never show the appreciation and respect that exudes from a human. Some came with sickness, anguish and other pains. Humans cared about me, truly, their hearts were unguarded to my eyes," Dez looked at me. "So I built my home by their side, to bring a little bit of what they call magic to their world." With the best intentions Dez had created a portal to damnation. The House's energy consumption was so high that its field began attracting the curiosity of unsuspecting strangers. The House took the lives of many, ingesting up to four humans per day. Creat's Patrol was sent through the hole created by the House's imbalance, guided by the traces of Dez' energy signature. The only way to stop the Patrol from locating him was to freeze himself. Before doing so he sent callings to former Fexorrian followers. They were the ones who would later become Members of the House; those carrying on his purpose. "Many were taken by the Patrol sent to Earth, mostly all humans, that's my biggest regret. The innocence of a race was injected with evil in my quest for righteousness."

Hunger created upheaval in my stomach. With just a thought, my mind savored the bitter fruits I had rejected earlier. We wouldn't find any food this late, so sleep was the only option until the morning.

Dez had kept his eyes fixed on the flame through the night. Brox was still asleep next to me when I felt a cold slime run down the wrapped wrist. With sleep in my eyes, I tried to rub the gooey paste on Brox's red robe. When he felt the tug on the robe he lazily opened his eyes. "What are you doing?" At the speed of a bullet, the guard jumped on his feet and shielded himself behind Dez, who was now staring at my body in awe.

"Ew." Their combined disgust towards me was bothersome but their disregard for time shocked me. The earlier we began walking to the city walls the better chances we had on sneaking past the guards. Every day the city gates opened for cargo trucks between the hours of noon and darkness. The plan was to board a truck so that it would lead us inside. It was a simple plan, except Dez didn't trust us enough to explain how we would get out of the truck, once inside, without being seen.

"Guys? If this is your idea for a joke, I have to say, it's not very nice."

"Don't move." Dez whispered in-between his teeth, as if he didn't want his voice to be a disturbance.

"Tell me we see the same thing." Brox gagged before looking away.

It was enough! I wasn't going to be the subject of their amusement. The day was young and another wouldn't pass before we entered Fexorrous. Waiting was a game for the uncertain. The healing wrap felt tight on my wrist, once removed, our plan to take the city would begin. Unwrapping it gave my skin freedom. As the leaves were pulled from my arm, they revealed the disgust eating away at my body. Like maggots, they slid around the skin, leaving trails of mucus and blood while creating a dimple. When the chill of the wind reached them, multiple rows of sharpened teeth sank in, trying to burrow into my body. With Brox's help, Dez pinned me down, keeping my body from shaking with revulsion. Once I was able to sit up, the severity of the infestation paralyzed me. All of me was covered, every inch. One of them, ate through, deepening the dimple until it could create a tunnel into my skin. Hungry for my blood, the rest followed, desperately slithering towards the entry wound and creating several more. The numbing ache prevented my stomach from spilling out its emptiness. One by one they disappeared inside, taking ownership, invading it. At once, they clawed and tugged at my insides. My limbs shook while they moved restlessly. "Out!" I cried, repulsed by my own self. "Take them out!" When the movement ceased, Dez put his arms around me and allowed me to rest on his shoulders.

"The healing of the wound is incredible, Dez." Brox examined my arm closely with my permission. He ran his fingers down the skin, in admiration. "The flesh-eating grubs studied by the Council leave open sores, prone to infection. But these..."

"These aren't flesh-eating grubs." Dez confirmed.

"Then what kind of creatures are they?" What did they want with me? Nothing revolted me more than to look at myself, knowing that things lived within me, feeding off me, infecting the blood within. "Can we get them out, please? Dez!" The extraction pain would be worth it. Removing the tarnished flesh with my fingernails was more desirable than living with them inside.

"Healing grubs. There must have been a reaction between this kind of soil and the leaves. This is a phenomenon extremely unlikely...a calling must be made for the grubs to enter a host."

"A calling? Can you undo it?" Brox's hands shook like leaves, as he looked desperately for his spear.

"No!"

"—Wait. A Calling?" Brox panicked at the thought, rocking back and forth. "You mean, there's someone trailing us? A Carrier?" Having found the spear on the ground, Brox gripped it strongly. "Worst, a Wielder?" If the calling was from one of Creat's Wielders we were doomed as slaves too, because our signatures had been read and located.

Dez became stressed by his paranoia and let out a yell: "Move one more time, and I will place a calling for your legs!" He turned his back from us. "Only one man is capable of calling such creations. He wouldn't harm us." Dez corrected himself quickly, "at least not back then."

Though my mind could not focus on anything but the bugs crawling within, for a moment a wandering derived my thinking. After all, Brox was right to be concerned, whoever had placed the grub-calling, had managed to go around Dez' untracking flame. Brox stared at Dez, rattled with fear, but said no more. His hand pointed to the spot where the flame had been burning through the night, except it no longer burned. With an unlit flame, our energy signatures were open not only to the Fexorrian army but to anyone capable of picking up our signals. The stunned look on Dez' face confirmed that more than a few friends of his, anxiously awaited to find him...to find us.

***

The ground vibrated with the force of the tires rolling slowly towards the gates. The tower's searchlight guided the truck's path. Hidden in-between the creases of the rock-like peak, we had watched a caravan of trucks enter Fexorrous. With every truck, Brox was sure to voice doubts about the operation. The first truck's stopping position gave the guards a good vintage point. He convinced us to camp out and wait for the next day. Just as we had given up, truck tracks paralyzed us with joy. Upon studying the next truck, Brox insisted it was impossible to break into the truck, for we wouldn't have time to lift the doors upwards. The following truck had multiple locks on the back doors. However, it was someone's will for us to enter through those gates, and somehow we would.

The bugs inside, scattered excitedly as they felt the strength of my will. The last of the trucks was a few feet away, this was our chance. A small lock on the side kept its two outward-opening doors closed. It began to slow down close to the hollows of the peak. Dez pushed Brox out from behind the rocks. Realizing he was uncovered, Brox ran to the truck. Dismissing any doubts, he hopped on the truck's step and waited for my hand to help me up. The step was small and couldn't hold Dez, who was running behind us. Immediately, Brox, tried to burst the door open with his spear, but the lock was flat and too small. Exhausted, he sighed "We can't."

"Hurry!" Dez yelled, out of breath, dripping sweat onto his black coat. "The driver is signaling for the truck's entry permissions." The gates would open in a matter of minutes, meaning the truck would parade itself in front of the guards. If we couldn't open the lock, we had to jump off. "Try once more."

Brox hit the lock again, inserting the spear in-between, to no avail. Dez placed both hands on the steps, believing that with his help, Brox could open the doors. Since the step wasn't big enough for the three of us, it made sense for me to jump off, Dez was stronger. Brox continued slamming the spear's tip against the lock. Before I had the chance to drop off the truck, Dez called to my attention from the ground, "June, the key," he laughed frantically, "you have the key, you have it."

"What key?" Brox stopped hitting the lock.

"There." Dez pointed towards my neck. Netania's potion was hanging from the necklace, next to it was the small golden key Ms. Baynes had given me. The one I had vowed not to use. "Use it June, you must. It's our only chance." He yelled.

Brox stared at the key while I held on to it. "He doesn't seem to know how keys work, does he?—Dez," Brox squatted closer to him "any key won't open this lock. June's key won't work on this lock."

"June, please." Dez begged. "That key is special—tell him June."

I stared at their faces while Ms. Baynes' words ran loudly in my mind: all that it opens should stay locked, for it unlocks the wicked. "I can't."

"Listen, June," Dez whispered strongly, feeling frustrated by my resistance, "if they discover us out here, we will die. Place the key in!"

"It's small enough, it might work" Brox added.

The gates were beginning to open as Dez pleaded. I removed the necklace from my neck and placed the key inside the lock. "It doesn't work." It had been our last hope. The disappointment allowed me to feel relieved. The dread of having to use it was now gone, and with it had come no guilt. When the truck's engine started, it was evident that the feeling wouldn't last long. We were doomed. In a few seconds the truck would drive off, with or without us. My feet grew heavy, becoming one with the step of the truck. Then I knew the doors would be opened and the dreadful feeling returned like an unwanted thought.

"Flip the key on its side!" Dez yelled, holding on to the key's power but even more so to my belief in it. After turning the key, it fit inside the lock. I found myself wishing to unlock the doors, as if the action of it, would bring us happiness. A clicking sound sent the evil behind the doors through my veins, letting me feel the weight of my actions. The doors came apart. From that moment on, the days became darker and the nights colder.

"Hurry," Brox extended his hand to help Dez up. Slowly, we closed the doors once the three of us were inside. Our sighs of relief filled the extent of the truck. "There must be a reason why you didn't want to use it." He referred to the key, which now, hung safely around my neck. "Have we brought something horrible upon us?" Not expecting an answer he scoffed at our fate. "The greatest offense is committed by those trying to do the greatest good. Will the correct path ever glow bright, unmasking itself before me? How can we ever know if this is the right thing for us to do?" His questions could not be answered by me, not without lying. Brox and I were on different sides of the right thing and of the greatest good. For him, this journey had become a quest for purpose, maybe redemption. Brox had jumped into the portal by instinct, hoping to restore peace in the Council, because he had known Good. The decision to come with us to Fexorrous must have come from a different place, since nothing good could enter a place which savored evil. We deserved all that was to come.

When the truck took off, I slid next to a small barred window which barely let in light from the outside. It was a gray town, clouds hovered above the broken roofs, most of which were suspended by rotten, wooden planks. The muddy streets led to a maze of similar, hut-like houses, all crowded next to one another. Further into town, though, housing arrangements looked stronger and more sophisticated, as the streets became cleaner. The truck took a left turn and having lost my grip on the bars, I tumbled to the floor, hitting my head on something softer than the truck's floor board. The bumpiness of the road intensified, forcing me to sit by what felt like a sack, holding on to it.

"What is it?" Brox crawled towards me with the intent of finding out what the sack contained. "Let's open it, maybe there's food inside. I'm starving."

"That's not the best idea, son." Dez had also noticed the sack and recognized Brox's willingness to open it. "You will not want to see what's inside." In a fleeting moment Dez' eyes expressed the dreadful nature of the truck we had chosen.

Without a care, Brox proceeded to untie the sack. "We have already seen enough of what no one should be prepared to see." Brox believed he could handle it, because he had been trained as a fearless Council Guard, a protector and representative of good judgment. He was experiencing the hardest assignment ever given to a guard; the self-sacrificing task of infiltrating Fexorrous. Except, this wasn't an assignment. To the Council and to the rest of Existence, Brox was no longer a guard. They had already condemned him, as much as he tried to live by their laws of strength and pure justice. The latter, he wouldn't find in this land of mud and blood, as proven by opening the sack. Under its thick fabric lay a small creature. Not even a Council Guard was prepared to take in the look of this corpse, robbed of its youth. Someone, however, had to witness the condition of this boy and how he had come to be no more. Dez undid the coverings of the sack, and the little body remained above it with hands and feet both chained. A wet cloth covered his lips. His shirt had been ripped open by frantic stabbings, leaving his fragile core as if a beast had fed on it. A small dagger stood from the side of his rib, still perforating the body, left as an adornment. Dez removed it and wiped the blood from it. My heart sunk from the indecency of the ones whom had murdered him for not having the nerve to close the boy's eyes. Because of this cowardly action, the boy's last moment of fear will forever be carried with me. With care, I closed his eyelids and in doing so, the blank stare of his still, blue eyes, shining like two fireflies in the night, disappeared. To the far end of the truck there were other body bags, stacked on top of each other. We wrapped the boy's body in the sack and placed it close to the other bodies. I feared that we would suffer the same fate as the corpses in front of me. Dez and Brox sat by the sacks, deflated, taking a moment to understand that we were surrounded by not only corpses, but by those whom had lived like us. "You!" Brox pointed in anger at Dez. "You insisted we should board a truck today! Look where we've ended up. Surrounded by the dead!"

"If we had only listened to you, we would have also been the dead." Dez snapped back. "What's wrong with you? Ever since this morning you have acted like a coward, and now, all the sudden, Brox has become the hero, the one searching for anyone to blame but himself—how was I supposed to know where the truck was heading, or what it contained?"

"See, Dez, the problem is I don't believe you!" Brox was beginning to meet the real Dez. Like the members of the House, his idea of the Great Dez left him betrayed and disappointed. Dez' reputation as a great energy Wielder and Carrier preceded him. His abilities had always been rumored to exceed the manipulation of energy. Everyone thought of him as a leader, especially members of the Council, for whom Dez was the Creator. He loved living off the praise and worship of those lesser than him, even if they weren't deserved. No one was sure of the extent of his abilities, I for once, questioned if he was more than a spell caller. The tension between both men was eased by a soft cry which chilled our bones. "Who's there?" Brox's voice gave into his renewed fearsome feelings. "As a Council Guard, I command you to show yourself!" His authority didn't apply in Fexorrous. Dez and I shoved him to the side, realizing he was only scaring the woman.

"We are here to help, come to us." Dez' voice soothed the air, allowing the woman to crawl forward from the end of the truck. She had also been chained. Dez knelt to her and caressed the bruised skin of her face. One of her eyes had been brutally punched shut and her clothes were stained with blood. "You are bleeding." He told her.

"I only wish I was." Her tears fell onto Dez' arms. "They took him from me—have you seen what they did to him? Oh, My baby son." She crawled to the boy's body and cradled it in her arms. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Oh my son." The woman admired his body realizing her boy was gone, and so, she kissed his forehead softly, wrapped in despair. She continued singing the same song, over and over, until she fell asleep on his chest.

"Don't be. Don't be. Don't be afraid my little boy.

No. Don't be afraid, not anymore.

My little boy, my little boy.

You were the one I adored."

Brox had been exploring the back of the truck and now had moved closer to us. "Dez?"

About to dismiss his words, Dez waved his hand, not to be bothered as he studied the woman, trying to understand why she was aboard the truck.

"You'll want to see this." Not giving up, Brox pointed to the dark end of the truck where the woman had crawled from. They stared in a blank shock, terrified. Sitting all together the group had seen and heard us since we hopped on the truck. There were two younger men and an older gentleman with a white beard. Behind them, there were three other women. All of them were cuffed by their feet and hands, like the woman who had lost her son.

"Why have you been taken prisoners?" Dez demanded from the group, enraged by their capture, believing all had been wronged by the Fexorrian army. He anxiously awaited the confirmation, anticipating a state of wrath necessary for what he had set our minds to do. As if there needed to be reason for anger after having seen the boy's damaged corpse. The answer was held behind their glistening fear, behind their eyes and the silence of their voice.

From the darkness, a man crawled towards us, dragging his beard across the truck's floorboard. "They won't answer you." He rose to his feet with Dez' help and whispered. "He took their voices." The man squinted and pointed his finger at Dez. "You?" A foul-smelling, fine powder clouded the coldness of the truck's air, as he shook his head in disbelief. After a few chuckles, the bearded man took a step close to Dez. "You haven't aged a day, my friend."

"Do you know each other?" Brox interrupted.

"No!" Dez yelled in anger before the bearded man had a chance to reply. "This man is a stranger."

"A stranger?" The man asked, "Do you not recognize me? It's me, brother, Kilkes."

Dez grabbed his neck tightly and pushed it against the truck walls. "You are a disgrace." Dez hissed under his breath, "I pity your existence." Confused, the other men and women watched from the far end. Brox took to opportunity to step between them, noticing the tension.

"I've come to save you, brother." Kilkes added, as a sardonic smile emphasized the meaning of his words. "Is this how you repay me?"

Dez grunted, throwing Brox aside. He jumped at Kilkes' throat and clearly demanded to know, "When have I ever been in need of your help?"

Kilkes' defeated glance fell from Dez' face. "Mother was right." He looked up again, knowing his words would have an effect on Dez. "You've always been ungrateful. The efforts of everyone else will never measure up to yours."

Dez turned away before squeezing Kilkes' throat tighter. "You don't deserve to speak of her!" Dez' mother was dear to him and he was never able to recover from the tragedy of her death, for which he blamed his brother. In their youth they had been rivals, even forming two different Energy Manipulation Academies. Both brothers had equal capabilities but Kilkes knew Dez was destined for greatness. His destiny was to remain in the shadows of a soon to be Creator. Kilkes decided to run as Major of the Land, politics weren't of interest to Dez, and so both brothers could coexist. Dez continued training others in the art of Energy Callings. When Fexorrous fell into the Separation Age, after the poisoning of the previous Lord, Dez created weapons and taught soldiers ways of transforming energy to their advantage. Fexorrian opponents were unprepared for the new technology, and so Fexorrous won many battles due to Dez and his followers. The success of his inventions made Dez known across the land. Once having gained its independence from Existence, Fexorrous needed a ruler who was wise and powerful. Although Kilkes had been ruling as Major of the City, they needed someone who could turn the city into an empire. Dez was offered the title of Lord of the Land and he accepted it gladly. "How did you escape my calling?"

"Oh Brother, only you have the power to unbind me from it." For a few weeks, it seemed that Kilkes had been freed from a binding calling which forced him to serve in the woods as a protector, never to set foot on Fexorrous. "I knew you had returned then, and it gave me joy to think that you remembered me. When the star-rays set, I received your cry for help in a dream and sent my maggots as requested." He scratched his beard and asked, "Why are you not content with them? —The light brightens her up. I can see them; all of them flicker like constellations."

Dez insisted he hadn't contacted his brother since leaving Fexorrous. Brox and I began to feel the aftermath of current events. Dez' voice became an annoyance but it was important for him that we believed his vow of innocence. "He lies, June. This is what this man excels at. I would never ask him for help." He begged for my attention but my eyes wandered to another place, consumed by sleep. "Brox," Dez called. "I would never ask for the maggots," He pled, "you must believe me. I cannot do what he says. I cannot command my being to appear in the minds of others, though I have tried. He lies, a person's dream is a doing of the mind. I cannot control dreams, though I have tried." Exhaustion won over him and his body slid down close to us.

Silence reigned and in the midst of uncertainty and fear, someone would visit peacefully. The humming of a familiar tune evoked tranquility around my body. The bumps from the road became softer and the hum transformed into a tune. The spirit left my body to find the source of the haunting melody. It climbed trees and looked around the morning flowers, but he was too quick. His taunting laughter echoed loudly in my mind. A ray of light descended on him and he smiled when I reached out in curiosity.

The wind rushed around me like a cyclone. Although, I couldn't see him anymore, his presence felt too strong to ignore. It let me know that I was being watched, that I had always been and would be, forever watched.

***

Brox tapped my shoulder as the first light of morning entered through the barred window on the wall of the truck. One of the women squealed, when the driver came to a halt, believing we had reached our destination.

We had stopped in the middle of another square, this one was larger due to its proximity to the Royal House. There was a wounded man, chained by his feet to a wooden platform. A Fexorrian guard removed a dagger from his belt and slid the blade down the man's skin, near the hip. As the cut bled, the gash grew in size.

Several bangs along the side of the truck knocked me off balance. The bearded man, jumped to the body bags and removed the bindings from one of the bodies.

He threw the shackles across, "Put these on. They're taking us out."

Brox and Dez did the same and we braced to feel the full star shine over our bodies. When the doors were opened, the air brushed through and I longed to run free. After studying the driver and his accompanying guard, I knew they would never catch me, I was faster. But the square was surrounded by Fexorrian guards. We all didn't have the same chance and I couldn't jeopardize our mission. Like those, there were other excuses why I didn't run, but after all, I deserved to be a prisoner, though I yet didn't understand why.

The driver mumbled words in New World tongue to the guard after wrestling with the lock to get the door opened. Having a slightly robust and short frame, the guard jumped on the truck with the help of a step and the arm of the driver. Brox chuckled, as the guard managed to put himself together. The man carried a spear similar to Brox's, along with two daggers hanging from his belt and a baton dangling from a chain. He kicked the body bags over as he tied each of us to a longer chain to keep us connected in a single line. The man looked at us with disgust; we didn't deserve to be seen or touched by him, or by any Fexorrian guard for that matter. A Fexorrian guard possessed a higher grace, one closer to Lord Creat. Tainting his spirit with the mere picture of our semblances was forbidden. Empathy towards a simple energy form, as he perceived ours to be, was the ultimate sin; a sign of a potential traitor. With a pull on the chain, one by one, we jumped off the truck. As the man exited the truck, he took one last look at the door's lock, baffled by it. He turned to the driver with the same disgust, then laughed. In his eyes we must have been dumb for accepting a prisoner's fate; for not being bold enough to unbolt a broken lock. "While our driver prepares the truck for the journey ahead, how about we enjoy the Feeding of the Ragoudi?" He laughed loudly when no one answered. "Not many have the chance to see what awaits them."

The crowd parted to let the guard through. He walked us to the front of the square, closer the platform where the prisoner had been wounded. Behind it, a group of Elite peacefully watched. All wore gray cloaks which concealed their faces, except for one of them: her cloak was golden. Her face, too, could not be seen, but there was something more which identified her regal status. A black stone attached by a leather cord clung from her neck. At times the crowd glanced towards her but never directly at her. The hypnotism of her stance gave way when she pressed the stone into her fist and then the people knew.

The sound of a rustic blow horn radiated through the city, releasing a group of dark-winged beasts from the towering Royal House. After hovering around the prisoner's head, they descended onto the platform. The crowd was advised to step back, but not us, we were close enough to feel the heat escape through the wooden boards and to smell the life of the prisoner pour out from the open wound.

The birds paraded in circles, puffing their deep, red-feathered chests until their pupils became solid white. Their large wings flapped anxiously, waiting for the signal. While the guards watched respectfully as the birds began their feeding ritual, I focused on the prisoner. Dez advised me not to watch, but I wanted to know his fears and feel his pain, for I wanted there to be no doubt in my mind that Lord Seb Creat of Fexorrous and his followers were an evil race; one to be abolished.

The man, ailing in murmurs, took a single look behind the platform. Seeing that the woman still held on to the stone, the man breathed as if the air had condensed to water. The horn was blown again and the woman's grip tightened. Receiving the signal, one of the birds hoped on the man's back and inserted its claw onto his skin. With the help of its beak, it ripped a hole into the upper part of his shoulder. The other birds followed, but fed from the first wound. As all shrilled with the taste of the man's blood, the euphoria of a kill sent screeching sounds into the air.

"What's that you whispered?" The guard leader asked before striking the front of his boot onto the prisoner's face. Due to the harsh blow, blood rapidly accumulated in the man's mouth and stained his teeth. Ignoring the guard's offense, he tried to speak, peacefully. Blood and saliva ran down his chin when he opened his mouth. Laughter arose once again from the rest of the guards on the platform and some devoted members of the crowds. "Weak man! Make a greater effort, will you? The Ragoudi venom will dry your blood before the crowd has a chance to enjoy the death of a dirty traitor like yourself. These are the last words to remember you by. Nothing to say?"

"What has Fexorrous become?" Dez murmured, exhaling in desperation. "Take me back to the truck!" He demanded to our designated guard, whom stood a few feet away from us in the crowd. Brox pulled Dez back before the guard could take his eyes off the spectacle.

"Dez, don't ruin this now." Brox whispered, keeping his eyes on our guard. "I don't want to watch either but we can't destroy our cover or the mission. We owe it to this man, to those who were and those who will be oppressed."

"No one can endure the venom of the Ragoudi. He is weak, too weak to speak" Dez' body became distraught in trying to understand the nature of the guards, "Why do they taunt him, what do they seek?"

When the Fexorrian guard had finished his mockery, the prisoner was addressed directly. "For the Court of the Elite has dictated that you are guilty of treason and, as such, you shall die, nameless, to be forgotten, all in efforts to rid the City of the sins committed against the Royal House." He turned to the crowd thereafter, "Let the lack of this man's words signify his repentance and let his silence convert to a vow of servitude in honor of the Royal House of Lord Seb Creat."

In the midst of their delight, silent whimpers broke through like a mysterious stranger. The crowd gasped in unison when the prisoner gathered his last drops of energy and uttered: "A body can be enslaved, but the mind, spirit and soul can only be enslaved by its possessor. I have set mine free, for the Carrier of Hope stands in the crowd today. Let me die a worthy death because I die in Honor of the Carrier of Hope. Among all evil, hope is the brightening doubt."

The guard, left dumbfounded, did not appreciate looking like an unprepared idiot in front of the crowd. He stabbed the prisoner again to extinguish any hopeful doubt, demonstrating the force of power was on his side. Across the platform, the golden cloak flowed in the wind, behind her quick paced steps. With her, the beasts left. While admiring the contrast of the tracks of blood running on the platform against the fleeting flash of gold, the voice of the prisoner returned. His eyes had closed and his body was hunched over, held up only by shackles. I heard his broken cries unite with mine. His repentance was only due to not being able to shield me away from witnessing his death.

The life of this man, as it ended, was complete. Without seeing or hearing me, he knew I had stood before him, strong and determined. I, however, having seen his face and having heard his voice, could not realize my father had been murdered in front of my eyes. Later that night, with the light of the moon, I found my bag in-between the corpses. Inside it, was the dagger given to me by Jacknell: for the one who carries hope. Then, I knew. This time the words became engraved forever in my mind.

Chapter Eleven

A wave of heat rushing through the cell bars awakened me to find myself laid on the floor among the others. My head had been resting on the pile of body bags, thrown by the entrance of a prison chamber. Everyone else stayed motionless, comforted by the warmth of the cell, not knowing our trip had ended in a Fexorrian prison. With the help of the bars I was able to pull myself off the ground and peek through, but the halls between the holding cells were empty; empty and bright. The brightness scared me. Though it felt warm, the warmth appeared unnatural, synthetic and rather cold. As I turned to look at the rest of the people traveling with us, Brox's body twitched. His eyes opened wide and he examined the cage that surrounded us.

"Where are we and why do I feel so weak?"

"This is it, Brox. We're in."

"I hope you don't mean the Royal House, because we are in jail, and unless Seb Creat welcomes his guests by throwing them in a cage, I don't see us getting out alive." There was nothing left to lose but our lives, and trapped in Fexorrous, a life was not much to have. At least we were inside the same walls as the man who, Dez claimed, had captured my grandmother and mother. Being so close to evil felt less and less fearful. The proximity blazed like a waving torch, spreading its fire on all that needed to burn. Scorched first, was every drop of mercy and morality in my being. Next would be that man, his followers, all he stood for. Included was everything he had touched and everyone close to him because no good could surround him. My eyes would not see rest until his empire fell to ashes. I feared that even his ashes were evil and capable of reassembling his spirit. So the ashes were to be burned again, with white fire from a star illuminating the Halls of Existence. The remains would wield a crown to be placed on my head; I should be the next and only queen. To rule in goodness one must know and hold all evil on top of her head. "Do you think we are doing the right thing?" The others still slept and Brox took the time to question everything we had believed in for the past days, which to me felt like an eternity. Nothing or anyone could derange my thoughts, I was focused and determined and no one could make me believe otherwise. I knew what I had to do and it wasn't because Dez had convinced me. My convictions were not in honor of my father, neither were they to save my mother, cousin, or grandmother. They also had nothing to do with the members or with residents of Fexorrous, whose brains and souls had been bandaged and deprived of the body's life source. This was the right thing to do for me, yet I couldn't answer his question.

My shoulders shrugged and he noticed the millions of thoughts firing at the speed of light through my body. We were clueless, having stuck our heads nose first in a predicament where the outcome would likely go in favor of Lord Creat and his army. How could Brox or I ever think about overthrowing the Ruler of Fexorrous? I didn't even know where to start looking for my mother. Observing Dez' body sleep, I realized that without him, we were less than an inconvenience to the Royal House.

The Magician had covered all his corners to make sure no action could be taken against him. Dez was incapable of trust. We had absolutely no idea what the plan was once in Fexorrous. What now? He had never filled us in and it was his plan we were following like two sightless rats. Even more worrisome was the more probable theory, where there was no plan after arriving. Dez was infamous for not having plans, he waited for ideas to fall into place as he went along.

"June, there's something I must do for myself while I'm in here. If it means never leaving this forsaken place, I'll accept it, for I have committed the worst offense." He rubbed his hand on his face and grabbed the top of his hair. "I cannot help any more, you and Dez have to continue without me." Breathing heavy, and unaware of the words he spoke, Brox apologized.

"Brox, are you crazy?" I shook his knees trying to snap him out the state of absurdity he was in. "Brox look at me. You can't do this, not now. We're a team." Though, similarly, I wished to do more in the name of my purpose, there was nothing anyone alone could do while behind the fat, iron bars keeping us under the reins of the man on top.

"You don't understand. I'm not worthy of fighting a pure cause. I can't jeopardize Dez' quest with my wretched existence. I'm a criminal."

"Brox this is not the time. You can question your existence later when we are free and have nothing else left to question. The guards can come in at any second and we need to be prepared. Let's wake Dez and the rest to figure out how to get out of here."

He grabbed my arm and pulled me closer. "No. June. You have to listen to me. I cannot carry this any longer—I see her! I see her all the time, her memories keep torturing me. Please listen to me." With his eyes staring at the ceiling, Brox's head fell backwards, resting on the walls. "I feel her presence here. She calls me—I can hear her words." He spoke like a mad man, interlacing his fingers around the top of his head and squeezing slowly.

"She? She who? The Controller, Controller Hed? Can she communicate?" It would not be unthinkable for the Controller of the Council to be able to, somehow, communicate with guards who had left the Council. Maybe his brain had been wired, a chip implanted, like an intersect device. The heat had activated it, maybe.

"No, not Controller Hed. It's her. She that holds all my regrets, the one that lost her life to the Fexorrian Patrol. I damned her, made her a slave to Lord Seb Creat in the name of the Council of Existence." There was a time when Brox had been recruited along with other guards to assist in the capture of the Fexorrian Patrol. "The Patrol was draining humans and the Council of Existence prohibits all Lands from intervening in human life. Our group was tasked with studying a potential target and logging any activity, like the breaking or expansion of barriers. The goal was to infiltrate her life. I pretended to be like any other human. Once the group had located the Patrol, they planned to use the woman as bait, knowing it could not resist her energy value. It was a very dark night, although the moon showed itself full, it didn't shine upon us. She thought she was there to meet me, but I never showed. Instead I watched behind a set up station while the Patrol descended on her. I wanted to fight off the Patrol, to capture them." Brox took a deep breath and looked straight at me. "They were so close. I know we could have gotten them." Brox slammed his fist repeatedly against his head. "But no. No! Controlled Hed and the ones in her ear, ordered us not to compromise our cover and our location. This way the Patrol could be further tracked and studied carefully. So I had to watch how they drained her. I had to watch how that collection of worthless beasts took all of her. The body was dropped on the cold road like the carcass of an animal. My fellow guards had restrained me throughout the process, they wouldn't let my eyes look away. Then, her body was gone. And I...I—she was important to me."

"Brox," it was my duty, I felt, to let him know that it hadn't been his fault. Blame should not have fallen upon him. "Brox, you didn't do this. It was them, the Patrol, which receives orders from Seb Creat. Perhaps they might not even have a choice but to serve him. He will be stopped and all that have perished at his hand will be avenged. I'll see to it myself."

He laughed coldly at my words. "Open your eyes, June. Even the ones trying to fight evil, the supposed protectors, will rip a life from Existence in the name of good. Hypocrites are all who call themselves good. Evil is a broken piece from the Whole. Its crumbs exist in all and cannot be dissolved in pureness." Brox laughed again. "Evil thrives in those who deny and neglect its presence in their being." He swallowed a last chuckle and cleared his throat, "Malice is nothing but expected from Seb Creat and all who fall under his command. He should be trusted to be evil but no one should be trusted as a good man. Those are adamant in highlighting their goodness while letting evil run out of control in their minds. Making no effort to correct it. So I ask you, June, can you trust anyone?" Brox looked at Dez' body with a hint of disgust. "Can you trust him? How about the Council, or the people who lived with you in your world?" He closed his eyes, as if he were asking himself, "and yourself, can you trust yourself?"

"—One should never trust the self, it is too close to the root of our life," Kilkes interrupted, coming out of his nap, and rising to meet us. "It gives way to our perception no matter how blurred it might be." Dez' brother patted both our shoulders, "The spirit, however, cannot disappoint; it is pure. The difficult part is distinguishing between the voice of the spirit and that of the self, because the self is a mutator and learns to mimic without restrictions." As he finished, much of the group came to their senses. Dez awakened a few minutes later, ready to create chaos. He began banging against the bars, yelling for the guards. At some point he became angry at Brox and I. Dez insisted we should have woken him up sooner. While Dez had his tantrum, Kilkes motioned us to wake the remaining part of the group, but they wouldn't move. The three of them peacefully slept, uninterrupted by our tugs, shakes and screams. Among them was the mother of the boy whose corpse we had come across in the truck. The resting would replenish her body and as long as the sleep cycle lasted, she didn't have to deal with the death of her son. A cruel reality awaited her, but a part of me envied her. The remaining part recognized the macabre expressions among the tranquility of their sleep.

The loud slamming of a metal door chilled my skin instantly. My throat dried with fear and although I didn't turn to look at the faces of the group, their silence was enough. Two Fexorrian guards approached our cell, proudly displaying their black gowns in front of us. Gold jewelry adorned their shoulders and ankles. One of them pressed his hand on the cell handle and the door gave way. He studied each of us; his blank stare terrified me. Brox grabbed my hand and I pressed it tightly, not wanting to let go. The guard outside, spoke in New World Tongue as he pointed to all that were awake. Once having removed us from the cell, they sealed it again, leaving those sleeping inside. We formed a line in front of them.

The man closest to us, removed a small bag from underneath his gown and presented it to Dez' Brother. "Kilkes Esilia Rehnor of Fexorrous, our Leader thanks you for serving the Cause. Accept this reward in the name of your sacrifice. Hereby, your freedom is granted. Turn to receive your Freedom Seal." A metal ring was stuck against the back of Kilkes neck. The guard waited as the ring ate away his skin. When the artifact was removed, a circular mark remained along the blistering skin surrounding it. "You are a free man."

"You can always be trusted never to disappoint." Dez directed his words to his brother, who made an effort not to look at him. "In the name of a few coins you have betrayed me. Let them last as long as you regret the wicked actions that taint your soul, brother."

One of the guards yelled to keep him quiet. Kilkes took a look at his brother, wishing to apologize, but did not. "You are wrong, like always, Dez. I haven't betrayed you, not me, because you have never trusted me. Loyalty was never expected from me, but it was from others. It is one of them who's betrayed you. Watch you back, brother." His head lowered and Kilkes walked away through a short tunnel and exited through an orifice to the right of the chamber. Two more guards marched in, formally interrupting the proceedings.

"What are they saying? Will we be killed?" One of the women, named Olam, whispered in terror. I, also, shared her concerns because the reason for their disagreement baffled me.

Brox cleared his throat, "Miscommunication. The new guards came to relief the others of their post but they won't leave, stressing it was their duty to look after us." The rest of the group, besides Dez and I, stared at him in disbelief. "I am a Guard of the Council of Existence, as such I have been trained to decipher any form of communication." He explained to the others.

Olam and the rest bowed in respect, to which action Brox smiled. The original guards approached us in a rush, grabbed Dez and walked him in front of the other guards. Brox translated while the Fexorrian guard spoke, "We've chosen this one for experimentation. The rest of them are suitable for Lord Creat." The other guards nodded and allowed Dez to be removed from the chamber.

"Don't put your dirty hands on me!" Dez mumbled as he was dragged. "—we've been betrayed." He repeated the phrase over and over. Dez' fuming screams echoed through the tunnel, dying slowly as they traveled closer to us. In silence, Brox and I exchanged the same look of desperation. Our worst fear had come to pass and our hopes of survival quickly plummeted. The only thing that comforted me was holding on to Brox's hand but even that was taken away when the guards separated us by gender. My throat tightened again, with every breath my eyes burned with tears. One of the new guards laughed when a tear spilled as Brox let go of my hand and stepped to join the other remaining man, Al. I stayed still while another woman stepped behind me; her name was Nea. Olam followed behind her. A guard walked closer to the men and sniffed them. He turned to his partner and spoke, then tossed Brox against the wall.

The guard addressed him in New World Tongue, Brox responded so that we could understand, "I am a Guard of the Council of Existence."

"—No!" Anyone against Seb Creat's rule faced a number of punishments, from servitude to energy drainage. One of the worst offenses was to support the Council of Existence. Here, before their eyes, they had found a Council Guard! A rarity, the exemplary enemy. He would be destined for execution, fed to the Ragoudi, or perhaps, a far worse form of torture. "No Brox, why are you telling them? No he is lying," I clung to one of the guards' cape. In turn the man struck my face with the back of his hand. The blow threw me to the ground.

"They already knew, they can smell our origins." The guard's partner had restrained Brox, so Al came to my aid and tried to lift me up from the ground. A shock of electricity was sent through his body and he convulsed on the floor next to me.

"Look at what you've done to your friend!" The guard knelt to the ground, grabbed my hair in a fist and twisted my head. When Al stopped moving, the guard let my head drop, then grabbed a baton from his belt. The man jumped on top of me and struck me again. Brox yelled so he would stop, but the man continued to beat me. Before my vision became blurry, I was able to focus on his face. In it, I recognized the same joyful expression that had reined upon the man sent to execute my father, the one who had stabbed him and allowed the beasts to feed on his wounded flesh. A warm gush of blood ran down my nose and dripped from the left side of my mouth.

"Please stop," Olam and Nea cried at the same time.

Brox spoke loudly in New World Tongue, everyone remained quiet. This time the man stopped and jumped at his neck, but Brox's voice remained firm. "Be strong, June." How could I muster the strength to continue without him, without Dez? Still on the ground, unable to stand, I watched as the Fexorrian guard removed him from the chamber. His eyes turned downwards towards me, holding a pitiful look. "I'm sorry." We had been captured and from this point on, I was on my own.

"Brox!" I called his name repeatedly, but he couldn't hear me any longer. Three new guards were sent in, to clear us out of the chamber. Before closing the metal door, a liquid was spread from the end to the entrance. The men lit a spark and tossed the flame in. Soon the warmth of the fire was felt, even as we walked away.

***

"It's just hair, Nea. There's no use in crying, it will grow back." Olam explained, parting the white curtains that kept out the starlight. The explanation did no good in consoling Nea. Since the early hours of the morning she had been rolled up in a ball on her bed, sobbing, unable to bear the idea of having a shaved head. "To tell the truth, you look better than me." Olam grabbed the mirror that had been placed on Nea's nightstand and took a peek at her own bald head, making an effort to admire it. She noticed I had awakened and turned to me, leaving Nea to come to her own acceptance. "How are you feeling, June?"

The locks of my hair were still intact and for a second I felt relieved. The feeling, however, would not last long. The day before, we had been notified that my cleansing ceremony would take part today. The ritual included shaving a person's head by a Chief Guard in charge of the preparation of Energy Carriers for the consumption of Seb Creat and the members of the Court. After the hair had been removed we would be left in a soaking bath meant to rid the skin of its toxicity. The Chief Guard would then concoct a tea, which relaxed our defenses in a way that made us compliant to the suggestion of feeding our energies to the Royal House. The ceremony was not always effective and most times, suitable prisoners, like the three of us, would then be turned into slaves through a process of breaking and tormenting. Though I felt I could not be broken any further, a part of me knew there was always something left to break. I feared Seb Creat and what he could transform me into; what I would allow to become me.

My lack of words disrupted Nea's crying. Both girls joined in worry. "June?" They called in a soft-spoken tone.

"I'm fine, guys. It hurts less and less every day." At the sound of my voice they sighed.

"That's the spirit!" Olam jumped towards the armoire and searched through the garments that had been hung by the female guards. "You'll see, June, the bruising will disappear in no time."

"Yes, Olam is right," Nea agreed, though she knew it was a lie. A week had gone by, since the guard had beaten me, and the bruises on the side of my face and neck intensified in color each day. I made a point not to focus on the pain and the purplish color of my skin because we needed to be strong for each other. So we exchanged lies in between ourselves, knowing the sound of our demise could come as a knock on our door at any second. The three of us hadn't been the only ones sent to the Light Chambers, but of the group of the selected Energy Carriers, we had remained. Down in the Holding Chambers, others had been gathered until a big enough group had been formed. Throughout the week some girls had been called by the Head-Guards, but their heads had never been shaved like Olam's and Nea's. Given turns, one would return from her meeting and was allowed to sleep. Each day, in the morning, we would find bed sheets stained with blood, and that's the last we would see of her. Sometimes two tainted beds in a day, until they all had gone.

"Here's the gown for your ceremony," Olam walked away from the armoire and laid the dress on my bed. But the dress should not have been close to me, I wanted nothing to do with it or with the ceremony. No one would dictate what I should wear, and I wouldn't stand for it, even if my bed sheets were to be covered in blood because of it. "Try it on!" The encouragement in her tone brightened my mood but didn't convince me. These tactics were the ones used to seduce opponents to the point of servitude and worship. "June, it's just a dress." She leaned over while Nea wasn't looking, "I'm scared too, but if we are going to find a way out of here, the three of us need to survive."

"They'll turn us into mindless slaves before we get the chance to run away." Thinking about escaping was impossible. We were surrounded. Their eyes followed us everywhere and the solitude nurtured the paranoia living inside our minds. Wearing the dress meant I had taken a step towards joining Creat's macabre practices and I would rather die in an act of defiance than to live as a prisoner or slave.

"You will let a dress defeat you?" Olam raised her voice in anger which caused Nea to take interest in our dispute. "A piece of cloth is stronger than you?" She shook her head and stepped away from my bed. "If a dress can bring about your downfall, or if the hair on your head can break your spirit, then you are not the June Fexorrous needs. You are not the June Dez spoke of." She frowned in disappointment and whispered, "Certainly, you are not the one who carries Hope." Olam's eyes sparkled with tears as she left to look over the shut, glass window in the chamber.

Nea rushed to my side and patted my shoulder. "The guards can beat you, they can drain you. They can dress you up and clean you up." Nea paused and stared into the distance, then at her own reflection in the mirror. "Two things they are incapable of, these things are the most important; they cannot change your soul, nor can they destroy it. Look on the bright side," she laughed, "at least you'll be able to get out of this room for a while and won't have to hear us argue."

Outside the Light Chamber there was a vast, white hall, roamed by barefoot, female Head-Guards. They were determined to uphold their position as the admiration of the Royal House, making sure to keep an uncontaminated appearance at all times. All wore their hair loose, falling above the waist. Unlike the guards in the Holding Chambers, the Head-Guards' black garments were adorned with energy-purifying, stone ribbons around their necks and shoulders. This upper level of the Royal House was a different world from the death furnace below. Twice a day, they allowed the wind in from a large window centered on the hall to breeze through our dormitories. Compared to the lethargic level below us, the ambiance was calming and energetic. It soothed our senses so that we could be accustomed to the Royal House, therefore allowing it to override any choice regarding the draining of our energy.

The garment dragged behind me and because I hadn't been fed since the imprisonment, it fell loose around the waist and shoulders. The girls had, both, tasted food during their rituals, but only then. The guards ensured our intake included neutral flavors to avoid allergic reactions to the consumers of Seb Creat's Court. Nea made me twirl around a few times, most times I tripped due to the extra fabric. We laughed and for the seconds that remained, we fantasied about ways of escaping. Olam offered to break the window's glass by throwing the mirror, but the glass might be too strong. Nea then suggested we push the armoire into it with all our force. The level wasn't too far off from the grounds. We could easily make the jump. However, the grounds were surrounded by guards and there was also a fence, which we couldn't climb without being noticed. In the middle of deciphering all the dead ends we knew not to take, the knocks came, interrupting the most fun I had had in a long time. Three of them walked in, and there was an urge to resist, but I held my composure in front of Nea and Olam for my sake and theirs. While being escorted out, their sobs left with me through the door.

***

Ceramic tiles of a light, teal-shade reflected themselves, uniformly, on the clear water of the pond. The steps, to which the guards had escorted me, glistened in gold with emerald stones encrusted along the sides. Having reached the first step, they ordered me to go further and exited the room. The dress drew much of the water as I jumped off the last step. Quickly, its weight began to sink me to the bottom of the tiled pool. My arms splashed around to grab a hold of the golden trim but I had already floated to the center. A woman approached the water. She had appeared from behind a large wooden beam, similar to the ones in our Light Chamber. Not being able to grip the trim, I waved for help. My feet tangled around the loose fabric of the dress and slowly, my body sank.

From underneath the surface, I watched her pour a thick liquid on the water. The woman was not bothered by the sight of my drowning but neither was I. Under the water it felt calm and silent, my interest was focused on the twirling of the water caused by the woman's liquid. She stepped away from the pond and looked at it. From the depth of the pond, my eyes were not able to make out the woman's appearance. Everything flowed in a blur to the side, and then back in a circle. A piece of gold flashed in the water as it fell in a chunk from the trim. When she had gone through the beam, the flash sparkled and fed the spiraling waters. The rush formed a current under my feet, springing me up onto the top of the steps. I laid on my belly as new women entered the room through the main entrance, accompanied by an old lady.

This older woman was dressed much like me, in a white gown and barefoot. Her hands yanked me up from the steps. Without saying a word, she parted my hair to look at the skin of my neck. As the Main Head-Guard, she owned my body and that of all female prisoners to be presented to the Lord. The roughness of her hands was due to extensive manual labor throughout the life of servitude she had given him. Aside from shaving heads, she mended and sewed ceremonial dresses. The blades and needles had not been easy tools to manage, as could be assumed by the look and texture of her hands. From the forearms to the tips of her fingers, there were scars of different sizes creating an uneven, dry feel to her skin.

The Main Head-Guard dropped my hair and yelled for the other three guards. The four of them began to speak in New World Tongue, a language I shouldn't have understood and hadn't heard since arriving at the Halls of Existence. Yet the more they continued to speak, I understood the words as if I had been born speaking it. The Main Head-Guard, whom the other guards referred to as Teek, expressed her concern after not being able to read my energy signature. The other guards suggested that maybe I was one of the Experimental Race subjects, and maybe, perhaps my signature was harder to read. This newly found ability of understanding their tongue, led me to more discoveries about Fexorrous' damnation and about that of the human race. It granted me the power of doubting my own nature, as I was left stripped of it, without a label to represent me.

"She must be one of them." The youngest guard took another look at me and then described the way I walked, talked and carried myself, as if she had been observing me through the entire period. "Her resemblance to the subjects is undeniable."

The guard next to her, a blonde woman, hadn't been convinced. She spoke in all efforts to disapprove the youngest guard's observations. "All Experimental Race subjects are secured in the Laboratory Halls. If she is, indeed, one of them, how will you explain her being here in front of us?" Then she expressed the main problem with the theory, "How will we explain to Lord Creat that one of his creations has escaped?"

The third guard whom had remained silently listening to the other guards, started to shake her head in fear. "What if she's been in contact with Fexorrian citizens? What if she infected them? What if she's infected us? — His creations will jeopardize the purity of our race, we must inform him at once, no matter the consequences." They continued to bicker about whether or not to tell their leader about my existence. Their master's rage was volatile and, among them, one was not keen on dying as a result of others' mistakes; those whom had allowed me to roam free.

"Calm!" The Main Head-Guard took control of the conversation and disapproved their conclusion towards my true race. "The girl cannot be Lord Creat's creation." For their sake I better wasn't, "those subjects are composed of an artificial mixture of races containing a single, copied energy signature." The older woman pressed her fingers, harshly, on the skin of my neck and continued to speak, "This girl has multiple energy signatures, and her being is made only of it." She let go of me and lowered her head, "The ritual cannot be performed on her!"

"What?" The blonde guard stepped in-between the other guards and approached the Main Head-Guard in a rage. "Why not? How will we present her to the Court? The Coronation Ceremony for Lord Creat's son is in two days?"

"The ritual will not be performed on her and that's final!"

"Then we will proceed as usual with her termination at the Light Chamber," said the youngest guard.

"No. The girl must not be harmed." Head-Guard Teek remained fixed on her position but the other guards could not understand why she was so determined on canceling the ritual.

"Then, your head will be fed on instead of her's." The blonde woman was determined to follow usual orders. She took a breath and voiced her disbelief towards the Main Head-Guard, "Do you not fear what he will do to us, to you especially?"

Main Head-Guard Teek, responded in a quick whisper, "I fear her most." The sadness of her semblance indicated the end of an era was to come. The women looked at each other not knowing how to respond.

The quiet guard spoke again. "Do you see the Divine Foretelling in her?" She did not wait for an answer, all that was needed was a nod from Guard Teek. The quiet one continued. "It is her. She will bring the Council of Existence upon us. Once they discover Fexorrous has violated the Human Interference Treaty, we will all be doomed." Her glance fell down and she began to walk towards the exit, "As his guards we will be the first to be executed, having been the loyal servants of immorality."

Main Head-Guard Teek grabbed her and pushed her against one of the beams resting on the wall. She made sure that none of the guards would speak of her discovery. They were instructed to walk me to the Light Chamber. "Inform Lord Creat's son of her appearance, he will know how to dispose of her properly." From their whispers, Lord Creat's son was harsher than his father. Often, people thought he had the power to overthrow Creat. His son had been born as an energized being, his veins flowed with power and his heart craved to rule the land. Creat had lived in a jealous battle throughout his rule, even sending his son away from Fexorrous for most of his childhood. Now, older, a small drop of power was the only thing needed to spark an insatiable quest to rule.

***

The doors leading inside the Light Chamber room were opened. At the sight of my unshaven head, Nea remained paralyzed on her bed. The guards walked behind me with care, making sure not to hurt me. Their eyes avoided my glance, perhaps due to fear or maybe because they pitied my fate. When the doors where closed, Nea waited for their whispers to disappear and burst into a screeching cry. Horrified, she pointed at my head.

"No!" She ran to Olam's arms. "She'll be killed!" Nea yelled. "She'll die before our eyes."

"Don't be silly, Nea, nothing will happen to me." It was my duty to make her feel safe. Nea was a couple years younger than me. Her youth could not support the weight of the reality we were in, causing her spirit to crush repeatedly. "My ceremony was suspended, but will resume tomorrow morning."

Nea looked up at Olam, not knowing if she should believe me. "Then, you will be like Olam and I?"

"Yes, Nea. Tomorrow I will become one of the Harnessed, just like you and Olam."

Nea wiped her tears away, "Do you promise?"

"Nothing bad will happen to me, or to you. Our blood will not be shed, not by them—"

"—June's right." Olam interrupted, her eyes glistened with vengeance and hope. "Our faith in Dez, The Great Dez, must remain strong. He will save us. He will save Fexorrous." The foolishness of her words took me aback. We could not wait for anyone to come rescue us. This was our fight, a fight that would never be won by waiting for others, especially if those others consisted of Dez. The Great Dez had gotten himself captured, walking boastfully through Fexorrian prison cells. His hubris knew no boundaries, it would escalate higher and higher, stepping on the heads of those closest to him, and ultimately it would reach the highest level; where it would consume him.

When the star rays had dimmed and Nea had been beaten by sleep, I motioned Olam to meet me by the side of the Light Chamber's door, from where the wooden beam was most visible. Before giving me a chance to begin, she asked, "there won't be any ceremony tomorrow, will there?"

I shrugged and shook my head. "The Main Head-Guard will transfer me to the command of Seb Creat's son in the morning. My signature could not be read."

Olam sighed, "You'll become one of the Harnessed, then? Oh what a relief, I thought you'd be terminated by sundown."

"No." My words where strong and precise, "I won't be terminated and I won't become one of the Harnessed. Tonight, before they get a chance to transfer me, we'll leave the Royal House."

Olam knew the life that awaited us, one of servitude and drainage. "Leave?" Maybe for her, this life had more purpose than her previous life. A life given any purpose—good or evil, great or small—can fulfill those searching for one, even if it eats up one's humanity. Then again, I was the only human in Fexorrous. "How can we leave?" Olam did not seem to understand that these people did not want to keep us here to worship Seb Creat. We were here to feed him, to serve our energy, so that it could flow through his veins. Nothing of mine would ever be his.

"Olam, no one will come save us. Not Dez, not anyone. We can't sit here and wait to be rescued. There's a way out and we'd be foolish not to follow it." In a rush, desperation climbed to my only remaining option, a single vision of hope; a guess. I would grab any chance–even if it meant taking a gamble on my life. The Light Chamber's wooden beam might lead straight into Seb Creat's dormitory, or perhaps into another holding cell, but there was a chance it led somewhere else. If the woman from the cleansing pools had entered thorough the wooden bean, there had to be a path behind the walls of the Royal House. We could either venture into the unknown and risk our recapture, or remain captured. If there was life still left in me, my name would not be given willingly to Seb Creat and his Court.

The wooden beam felt rough and dry against my ear. From the sound of it, on the other side of the beam, ocean waves crashed along a beaten shore. It was the sound of a spiral of narrow halls. Nea awakened and inquired about our fascination with the beam. She examined it from side to side, looking for a knob or handle to separate it from the wall. The setting star interrupted our attempts. As we concluded, the only way to open the door was to push it from the inside. There was no way we could find a grip and even if we did, it was too heavy for the three of us to pull.

Footsteps cluttered our desperate intents of escaping. They were coming for me as they had come for the other girls. I stood close to the door, so that Nea and Olam didn't have to see me struggle. Neither had heard the clicking and clacking coming from the guards' shoes. A last stare at the wooden beam rejuvenated my senses and for a moment I felt as powerful as Seb Creat himself. Olam noticed a change in my semblance and walked towards the door. It was my opportunity to convince her. They would escape, the force that flowed through me assured me: at least they would escape.

"When the beam opens, take Nea and run. Don't look back, just run. I'll be ok."

Her glance fell and she began shaking her head from side to side. Before Olam had a chance to refuse, a burst of energy flowed forcefully outwards from my being and into the beam. Both girls remained still, while the beam gave way. "Now!" I yelled.

"No, June, not without you," Nea cried.

"They're coming for me, it's too late. I have to give you guys a chance.—Olam please go. I'll be alright." As the beam shut behind them, I believed my words to be true and they were the last words spoken to them.

***

I met the guards outside the chamber room so that my roommates' absence could remain a secret until the morning. With hands bound in silver, I was blindfolded and guided through, what felt like, a labyrinth. Five hundred and twenty-two steps after, the guards informed me that we would be climbing two flights of stairs. At the top, a set of male guards stood before us, keeping us from going through a tall door. The door was alike every other door in the Royal House; wooden and large.

One of the female guards that had accompanied me spoke to them in New World tongue; I was no longer able to understand but the male guards were angered by her words. The closest to us smashed a bell hanging from the door. A few seconds after, we heard noises coming from the unbolting of the door. From the shadows of the room, a hooded figure emerged, and gave a hand signal.

The female guards left me there, stranded, and I felt the eyes of the hooded person study me with interest. I dared not to look forward as the rest of them vowed in respect. It came closer to me. Chills ran down my neck and back as it circled me. A gentle touch took hold of my arm and dragged me in. Behind us, the guards slammed the door shut.

***

Still in silver shackles, I was allowed to sit on a wide, see-through platform. The figure observed me firmly. Its interest remained on the bruises that had been left around my face and neck. The room felt cold even when there was a large glass letting in bright star-rays. The glass, which ran from the top of the gold-painted ceiling to the marble floors, offered a clear view into the city of Fexorrous. On the wall opposite to the glass, there were weapons displayed. From swords and daggers to pistols and chains. A small part of the wall carried strange metal devices. Most had sharp and pointy edges, while others were sure to crush the weight of my bones.

The speed of my heart raced when the figure directed its steps closer to the wall. I kept my eyes fixed on the gold ceiling; something beautiful to entertain my last glance. It was best not to see which weapon it would choose. My death, then, would at least, surprise me. No part of my body would be restrained in pain until the moment came. Nothing would restrain me, not the shackles, not Seb Creat's guards, not death. I was free.

Freedom of spirit wasn't all that useful, not when my heart ached for those believing in Dez and his cause. I missed him. Thinking of him, I thought of all others whom I had met and known and those whom I had loved and lost. My throat became a knot while I fought tears as nothing I had ever encountered before. A weak gasp for air allowed a tear to run free. The hooded figure heard the agony of the lonely tear and stared at me after stuffing a flask on the pocket of its robe. I dared not to look, I couldn't let that be the last image of my life. Neither did I want it to think that I was scared or weak. A few more tears followed and I wiped them away. Every step the hooded creature took marked an untaken step in the cause for Dez. As he moved, tears flowed uncontrollably, maybe due to fear of dying or maybe due to the rage coming from one who's kept from her destiny. Either way, each one was wiped with strength, though my hands shook.

The hooded person removed the robe and placed it behind the platform. I couldn't get a good look but knew he was a man by the shape of his body and his powerful stance. The man knelt by my side. Slowly, his hand reached my jaw and I prayed for a quick death. My glance did not diverge, for it was the only thing I could control; it was my escape.

"Does it hurt?" The man asked with intrigue. I didn't answer but instead replayed the incident in my head. There was a part of my being which wanted to share what had occurred. Noticing my silence the man went on. "Was it one of my guards? What kind of a monster would hit a woman in this way, in any way?" In his questioning he answered himself and reveled the truth about his identity. The man had referred to the guards as his guards. Only Seb Creat and his lineage would give such orders and command monsters of their likeness. "Whoever did this will be punished! I will not tolerate this barbarity any longer, June." He held his breath. "I am sorry this has happened to you. The miserable bastard will pay!"

My body fell numb against the platform as he called my name once more. "June, won't you look at me?" What surprised me wasn't the mention of my name but the way he spoke it, the way he asked for my attention. My ears had engaged in an act of deceit. I trusted my eyes to keep me from doubt and fell into a far worse trap at the sight of his face. "Did you forget to remember me?" He removed the flask and from his sleeve, fell a sea-blue flower. It had fully bloomed.

Then I knew it truly was him. "Grant, Grant Gilcome?"

He nodded and placed the flower on my lap, "take it." It must have been a vision, or a wish of the heart because Gilcome's body had been left dead on a bed residing at the Council of Existence. I took the flower, knowing it could only bloom behind the Council's door, which led to the place where trees grew. The blood stains had been wiped off, outgrown. "Did you forget to remember me?" Gilcome stared anxiously waiting for my response. I had, of course I had forgotten him...But to tell him wasn't wise, because it was a lie and he knew. Gilcome knew everything.

"The Sanctuary? You've found it. Have you visited?" It was the first thought that came to my mind, and it was easier to speak of.

"I did visit, with you. Don't you remember that either?"

"When I returned to the Council, you had been laid on a bed due to a fall from the Controller's panel. You couldn't have been in the Sanctuary with me."

He shook his head implying my words were incorrect, but I continued without giving him a chance to correct them. "I saw your body; you were dead."

Gilcome smiled proudly and clipped the blue flower onto my hair. "Am I alive now?"

"As alive as you were dead then."

"It wasn't my body you saw—don't concern yourself with what's happened in the past. It's of no help now." Gilcome stood away and gathered a few bottles on a tray.

"Did you fall from Controller Hed's panel?"

"How will this answer be of any good to you?" The peaceful way in which Gilcome avoided my questions frustrated me.

"Did you fall or not?"

"No." Gilcome admitted. "Well..." He stopped mixing the liquids and doubted his own answer. "In theory, yes but it didn't occur as you believe...I was in the Sanctuary with you the entire time."

"Then explain it to me, Gilcome, because I don't understand. How could you have been in two places at once? In one existence, I saw you die." Not only did I have to witness his death, I also felt as Gilcome's soul escaped his body. "Were you fooling us all, then?" There was meaning in Gilcome's silence; it was loaded with the foul secrets of his creation. Not able to endure his indifference towards my preoccupation, I bolted forwards grabbing one of the wooden sticks hanging from the weapon walls. "How could you have done this?" My screams insisted on a reaction; I wanted to hear his fury. The fury of a Gilcome who had once stood for a noble cause.

The two guards broke through the doors and restrained me although Gilcome commanded them to set me free. To ensure his security they locked me away in a cell to the side of Gilcome's chamber. The guards asked him if any Healers were needed for me, noticing the worsening of my neck bruises. Gilcome refused, letting them know he was the only one allowed to heal me. The guards were excused and Gilcome remained, speaking to me through the bars. He had been holding a small glass cup in his hands.

Gilcome and I had been the only ones at the Sanctuary that day. No one else was aware of the place, yet there was no explanation as to how the blood had appeared on me and my body was left unharmed. Those memories had been sealed; tampered with. "I was there with you. I never left you." He looked at my face and stared at my confusion. "The blood wasn't mine. —Drink this, please."

Gilcome's hand fit through the bars and I grabbed the liquid and contemplated whether to trust him. "Why?"

"It will help heal you." He whispered.

"My bruises can heal on their own. Potions or concoctions won't help, but the truth will. It's the only antidote never given to me and the harder to find—how are you alive, Grant?"

"Don't be stubborn, you cannot heal on your own. Drink it." The worrisome look in his face proved unshakable.

"I saw you die. You were dead—why are you here, at the Royal House? Why are you alive?" Seeing that my questions were getting no vocal responses, I decided to study him. His skin reddened when I placed the glass on the ground. "Who are you?" Having asked about his identity, it occurred to me I had no longer one, because I was dead as well. Then it could all make sense. Gilcome approached the cell while holding a set of keys. He walked inside and instructed me to extend both arms. After having removed the shackles, he bent and picked the glass up. "Drink it—aren't you happy to see me again? Didn't you miss me...or think of me?"

"We're both dead, Gilcome, you can stop pretending."

"Drink it!" His eyes burned like flames and his voice deepened with fury. "If you drink it, I will tell you everything." Gilcome pulled a stool in front of the cell and watched me swallow the potion. The vacant space revealed one of the wooden beams, which potentially hid another opening into the passage way. Freedom was a few feet away. My eyes diverted and focused on the empty cup in my hands and I looked at his sincere posture, never doubting the words that would follow or the severity of the deal presented. Gilcome reminded me of home. Strangely, he made me feel safe, although, he was angry at me. Gilcome's words were dry, cold and in the end he had managed to immerse me in the tale:

The Council of Existence had sent him as an ambassador to aid the Fexorrian Freedom Cause. Gilcome was smart and had average strength but he couldn't fight an army. He couldn't speak on behalf of the Council or form protest groups. Gilcome had been sent as a Healer; he'd been sent to heal me. No one else could. His energy had been stamped on mine and could not allow for the coexistence of another energy source. Both energy signatures had merged seamlessly, forming a deathly barrier that would attack any other signature.

To be healed by a non-healer was a dangerous practice which could result in death for both parties. Left un-cauterized the non-healer's signature would, over time, blend with the victim's. Through the signature's opening, the victim's condition could directly transmit to the non-healer with the presence of emotional panic acting as a stimulant. The imbalance would likely cause an energy attack for the non-healer, while the victim slowly recuperated; feeding on the newly acquired source. After having healed a victim, the non-healer would become a true Healer able to serve others with the necessary training.

The Sanctuary had been stained with my blood. It was my blood all along and he had healed me.

***

During the night, the coldness of the cell hugged me and insisted on not letting go. There had been a blanket somewhere around me, but it must have fallen off. I dared not to move as the darkness paralyzed my every thought. The cool wind invaded my body, freezing my bones and thickening the blood around them. Gilcome had insisted on staying until I fell asleep. The mattress was narrow, hard, and did not help clear my mind. It also did not help to have him there, observing me through the cell bars.

The hauling of the harsh wind resumed my state of insomnia. Scratching noises coming from behind the walls soon followed and I longed for Gilcome's company; the warmth that radiated from his presence. He had disappeared, as I found myself awake again. A heavenly body illuminated the night, its light reached the small window atop the walls of the cell. The clarity allowed me to see an opening crack on the wooden beam. Before realizing that someone had opened the passageway, a golden cloak broke through the dense air, glittering before the cell bars. The gold struck out, adding to the illumination of the room, and slowly the temperature increased. The hood still covered her face and contrasted the darker shades of burnt auburn in her hair. From the inside of the cloak, the woman removed a hand dagger. The golden hood stretched up a few centimeters and her lips became visible; they curved in a smile. Unsure of her intentions, I pinned myself against the wall, farther from the bars.

"It isn't my wish to hurt you." She let the hood fall behind her neck but remained holding the bars. "I've come to deliver a message. May you come closer?" Her voice reached my ears clearly, there was no need to step towards the woman; not when she still had a grip on the dagger.

"Who are you?"

The woman introduced both hands through the bars and presented the dagger to me. "Is this not yours?" A spark of curiosity allowed me to move closer. Able to take a better look into my face, her eyes lit with joy. "Take it."

It was too risky to approach her, as she possessed a weapon and I had no way of defending myself. Her sole presence was threating. "Slide it across." The dagger flew towards me and collided with my feet. "How did you get this?" The last time I had seen the dagger, we were in the back of a truck on our way to a Fexorrian Cell Chamber. To have the dagger in my hands, felt as if I had the memory of my father closer. Forgetting the fear, I leaped to the bars and thanked her. The woman had reunited me with what remained of my family.

Her light-brown eyes sparkled when she said my name, then she paused as if a knot of emotions kept her from voicing her concerns. "Forgive me, but—" The woman finally spoke again, there was sorrow in her tone; a hint of disappointment, "can you really not recognize me?" A glossy teardrop fell from her eyes. "Junie?"

I reached for her and though the bars were in-between, I hugged my mother desperately and let myself weep in her arms; she wept as well. We spoke of my father; his hopes and dreams and of the dim future that awaited her without him. But my father's murder would not go unpunished, his blood hadn't been spilled in vain. As long as my life lasted, Fexorrous would return to a fair ruler. Dez' cause would resume as quickly as I could get out of the cell and put all efforts to release him from wherever the guards had imprisoned him. Edda Rehnor, my mother, had come to save me. Together, the three of us would find Grandmother Cora. The four of us could not be stopped then, there was no energy source greater than ours. I could feel it inside.

"I'm ready for what's to come. Get me out."

"June," Her face became pale and her voice stiffened. "I did come to deliver a message. Listen carefully—"

"A message?" What message could be more important than getting out of here? Than being free from the Royal House? Dim star-rays announced the beginning of morning lights. Fexorrian Guards could come at any second to run the morning check, or Gilcome, or any other unwanted person. We needed to go.

"Yes, a message from Dez." My mother knelt down next to me and continued, "We have a plan in motion, and everything is set to take the city over. You are the vital part, June." Me. How could they have a plan? How could they have formed anything when Dez was behind bars, as was I and Brox?

"Dez has been captured, he was captured with me and a Council Guard."

"June, there's not much time to explain now. –Listen carefully. According to The Divine Foretelling the one who carries hope will free Fexorrous. Seb Creat has to be destroyed."

"I'm supposed to...destroy him. Me?"

"Why are you so shocked?" My mother narrowed her eyes, unable to understand the surprised look in my face. "This has been your calling since joining the House. You were meant for this," She began to cry, not believing her own words. "You have to kill him. The city is rotting by his hand. People perish everyday due to his insatiable thirst. To him, we are mere energy bags. Fexorrous will sink if he is allowed to rule any more. The future will only bring death, starting with your grandmother, Cora. Dez has been tracing her energy signature but it's too weak to provide a location. They've drawn too much from her. If she isn't found soon..." My mother's head fell downwards, unable to control her sobs, "—she'll die." Her hands shook viciously. There were various scars along the sides of her wrist bone which indicated the place of touring shackles used to draw energy. How she had escaped was a mystery to me. "I cannot stand any more death. You are our only hope."

"How?"

She looked at the dagger, then at me. "My duty was to bring you the means." The dagger glistened in my hand and as the jolt of light reached her, my mother fell against the bars. "No. You can't. I've told Dez a million times, you can't. I won't let you." Her eyes burst with tears and her voice with anguish. "A hero serves to die and then you'll only be a casualty. I cannot let my June die, not now." She said to herself. "I'll kill him, it's my duty. Even if I'm fed to the Ragoudi, even if my head is cut off, I won't let you risk it —let's go, forget Dez." With her eyes closed and hands extended, she prepared to break the cell doors open.

"No. Leave now." A warning would suffice. "If you don't, I'll call the guards." It would be me, I would be the only hero.

"June, please come with me." She whispered frantically again, "Forget Dez, and forget everyone. This is not your war, it was never your war. It should not have taken a look into your eyes to realize that. Come with me and we can leave this damned place behind, and honor your father's memory away from the root of evil. We'll both be alive."

"I can't." Alive would never feel as good as avenged, this war was mine, and I was born for it. Alive was the feeling the dagger gave me, to be alive. There was fear in me again, because he had returned like a dancing flame to disrupt my world. He wouldn't win, not if my hands rested in blood. "Let me do this, mom. I can do it. Let me be the hope."

She sat by my side caressing my hair through the bars until the starlight finally bloomed into the morning. Before exiting through the beam, she kissed my forehead and advised, "June, be aware of those you trust." When she had gone, the broken teardrops on the floor still reflected the golden color of her cloak.

***

"Are you ready?" Before coming in, arguing noises clouded the outsides of the cell room. "Stand, we must go." Not taking the time to look into my eyes, he unlocked the cell and pulled me out, dragging me past the threshold. In his rush, he had barely given me time to hide the dagger in the pockets of my garments. Two guards followed us through a path to the closest Chamber room. He fastened the door and exhaled when we were alone. A horizontal window allowed the morning lights to peek into the room, replicating its light onto the tiled pool centered in the room. Above the pond, a bright source focused on the blue petals of the Sanctuary Flower; somehow it had left my hair. "Get in." Noticing I had been immobilized by his request, Gilcome repeated, "Get in, June."

"What?—Are you serious?"

Anxiously, he nodded and opened his eyes widely, "Now!" At that moment it was hard to understand his motives, although I could never figure him out. Maybe, secretly I did. There was a vicious look in his eyes, like that of a predator about to fly off with its pray. Gilcome circled me, testing for a flinch, knowing the power of his words rattled my skin. "If you don't go, I'll throw you in myself."

"Then you'll have to that! Who do you think you are?" Believing Gilcome wouldn't harm me, I stood firm. Not thinking it twice, he gripped my arm tightly and dragged me towards the pool. "What's happened to you? How dare you?—Gilcome!" Trying to free myself I pushed away from him but he was stronger. The force caused me to miss a step and both of us went down against the ground.

In a glimpse, Gilcome viewed the way in which I had, briskly, shielded myself from him. A distressed face carried the heavy weight of humiliation. Unable to face me, his hands ran down his hair, forming a fist. "I'm in trouble." He admitted in a whisper. After crawling to sit next to me, Gilcome caressed my cheek slightly towards him. "I've seen the future, June. It doesn't end well, for us or for Fexorrous. No matter what I do, or what you do, it's all rotten, sunken in damnation. Even then, among all the putridness of it all, I yearn for nothing more than to be at the center of it. Against what they say, against what I see, all those who say it can't be done and all the contradicting images, it will be you and I. For only we have the power to rule it all." Gilcome paused, his eyes tiptoed into mine, making sure to instigate a doubting spark which left me wishing for one of his smiles. "Things will be said about me. Some will be false, and others I'm not proud of. But what can be said about my character if I don't stand by it all?" There was truth in his words and certainty in his ideas, however Gilcome's hopes weren't as precise; not when I completed them. We could never rule together, the power could only be either his or mine. Two heads could never rule, not equally. The crown could adorn one of our heads and it would be mine. Gilcome was stronger than me, physically and, perhaps energy-wise as well, since I had never practiced the Motion of Energy as he had. There was an obstruction in his well-constructed plan; he could not use the power of his energy to overthrow the Court due to his origins. I had known, but refused to believe until my eyes could witness. Soon they would.

Although he remained behind, still sitting on the ground, I could sense a gleeful smirk while my dress dragged down the pond's steps. Gilcome ran toward the edge and instructed me to stand behind the light source centered above the pond. The Sanctuary Flower's sea-blue petals tainted the clearness of the lukewarm water. He stood tall and firm, closing his eyes in meditation. From him, exuded a lightning source, forcefully, looping around the blue water. It flashed down like a magnet on the dampness of my skin. The room fluttered in various shades of blue. With the sucking power of a black hole, all of it came back towards me. It submerged me and held me down, feeling the cool dagger's blade, my skin electrified in color. When the blue shade disappeared, the waters calmed soon and cleared transparently, allowing my body to float to the surface.

Gilcome helped me out of the pond and directed me to a changing screen to remove the wet, loose garments. Behind the screen there was a resting chair. A dark, lace dress hung from one of its arms. The slim fit was surprising. Golden jewels adorned the shoulders and fell down to the back. The tips of the lace layers were also dipped with the bright metal. "Gilcome, should I be wearing this?" Someone like me should not wear a garment as extravagant. Its elegance provoked attention.

His voice flowed from the opposite side of the screen, perplexed, "Does it need to be adjusted?"

"No. It fits perfectly. But I'm not sure it's appropriate for the Coronation Ceremony." A prisoner's attire was ordinary and modest, even more so if such prisoner was to be offered as source. The Harnessed and I had been humbled by the sameness of clothes. Loose-fitting rags had become the unifying symbol of survival. The wet dress sat empty on the chair, deflated and lifeless. The fabric that had once consumed me, now stared into my soul. It begged not to be forgotten; wanting to be carried into victory. A rotten string surrendered at the strength of a tug. The crunching noise of the fabric's tearing rang as a glorious murmur. I tied the patch of cloth around my left wrist in remembrance of the Harnessed; the modest and humble. There remained no room for either in my life.

"Why?" Gilcome took the liberty to peek behind the screen. "You look—it's flawless." His eyes ran down the length of the gown, mystified, unable to escape its splendor. A pleased gaze intimidated me, as if he had much to do with the construction of the dress. "You'll be the surprise of the night. Surely, the heir will not mind sharing the interest of the Court—actually," a sneer slipped between his words. "Perhaps it'll be his interest you grasp." No one's interest was desirable to me, especially not at the Coronation, where going unnoticed was ideal.

"If you're done joking, we can leave. The guards must be tired of waiting."

"Let them wait," he said, "and I wasn't joking. The Court will present him with beautiful female sources of energy, Carriers, Wielders. There will be plenty of women for him to socialize. All of this is done in the efforts to ease the search for a willing partner to rule the Royal House."

"A willing partner, huh." Unable to hide my amusement I repeated, giving him the chance to elaborate.

"Of course, June. The cost of living by the side of the ruler of the Royal House must be paid well. Not in blood, but close. Assuming the son is as barren as the father, the girl must be a feeding source. However, I'm not insinuating the search has been unsuccessful, by no means. All admire him and too many would feel honored to serve him."

"Certainly."

"Plenty have applied for the Court's consideration." Gilcome chuckled, pointing his chin upwards, "Although he might have his sights set on a few—I hear he's handsome."

The statement was sure to raise a few giggles. "Is he?" After searching through the wet clothes, my glance focused downward, trying to locate the dagger which had fallen while changing. As a distraction, I continued to engage him in the conversation. "Are you sure there is a sort of girl willing to be enslaved in return of a chair and head jewels?"

"There is." He answered, confidently. "A lucky one." Gilcome pulled me towards him, away from the screen. "Let me show you something." He fixed my face before the silver, framed mirror by the entrance of the room and stood behind me. While parting the side of my hair, he revealed a bright, sea-blue streak of hair. "The girl will have the graceful opportunity of standing next to him tonight." Gilcome's hand fell against mine, his grip reached the dagger just when I had succeeded in concealing its existence. Still holding my gaze through the mirror, he interlaced the dagger into an opening in the dress, along the inside of my arm. "Near his father, without a doubt."

Having the dagger close, eased the shallowness of my breaths and allowed for its unification with my body. The dagger completed me. Soon, the energy would get accustomed to its movements and it would be wielded flawlessly to rip life away from skin. The dagger's force took away words and feelings. It numbed the surrounding nature, its sounds and its people.

Gilcome brought me back. In between his fingers, he twisted the blue-stained streak of hair dangling from my head. After forcing me to stare at the reflection of my face, he stepped away towards the pond. Gilcome reached into the pond and rescued the Sanctuary Flower. Pale and washed out, he brought it before me. "This one will never dry... So long as you are willing to carry the force of my energy, its color will rein on you always."

Chapter Twelve

A dozen female bodies dragged their feet in front of us. Their white dresses had been washed and ironed. A Head Guard stood at the beginning of the line, directing the grand entrance, while an unadorned guard stood at the end. The man's energy wasn't disruptive or severe, as was that of the other guards; his, tasted familiar. The unadorned guard had been clipped in chains to the last girl. In the likeness of the remaining baldheaded girls, she wore extraction devices on each wrist. A third device, larger and heavier, speared the top of her spine. The guard accompanying her, directed her unsteady steps with care. Unlike the rest, the last girl had bloody bruises around the foreign devices placed on her.

Before giving the final call to open the doors into the Ceremony Hall, the Head Guard dashed towards us, insisting on my bondage. Gilcome tried to comfort her, but the woman wouldn't abandon her plea. Frantically, she yelled for other guards to restrain me. Having no choice, Gilcome agreed to put shackles on me. He tapped the unadorned guard and whispered something into his ear. The man listened attentively and nodded. Then, the guard spun to secure me to a chain already hanging from him. When he noticed me, we remained locked in astonishment. Gilcome held his glance cautiously, bothered by our lasting stares.

The guard's doom was far greater than mine. His soul, undoubtedly, cringed every day at the sight of the uniform enforced upon him. It was the Royal House's pleasure to subdue a Council Guard; to mock his duties, to derange his nature. The Brox I knew would breathe in the ashes of his own corpse before choosing to serve Seb Creat. When the doors of the Ceremony Hall were opened, he held on to my hand tightly, frightened by what we would encounter inside. Nothing more than a vicious anomaly, followed by a parade of air sucking worms. The bunch of them created a putrid trail behind, only to be traveled by life-spilling, deceitful generals of high rank.

Thick, glass columns and ivory steps elevated Seb Creat's throne, towering citizens of Fexorrous and members of the Court. The Elite were seated a level below him, admiring his movements and living off his words. Leading them, was the woman in the golden cloak; my mother. Her presence did not surprise me because the city's attendance was mandatory. All had turned out, for I could feel their energies expanding my cells. Some were weak and I was strong enough to take them, to feed on them. One, however, was stronger, tantalizing, and almost equal in power to my combined potential. In a taste, I knew its owner was close and coming even closer. It was Dez'. While searching the crowd for him, my eyes befell upon their Lord and leader.

The personification of evil could not do enough to conceal himself in the presence of brightness. The Lord's hair was light, so were the garments and prolonged robe on his back. But Lord Creat's eyes were as dark as his soul. With every glance, the darkness deepened and ignited. "Finally," he clapped. "Here, dear friends, I present you the Royal House's most precious source. Welcome them." The dense voice crept behind everyone's ears, deprived them, and like a thief, robbed our attention. "Breathe them in!" He yelled.

The march of tired feet sculpted a wretched melody. Stretching out into the openness of the Hall, it drummed in, against the windows, doors, and Seb Creat's throne. The loud bangs rang wholly but the dooming sound did not weaken the girls' faces. They walked firmly amidst the awe of the Court. We were greeted with lustful glares and ravenous grins. Some sat on center benches, staring upwards at the throne. Others stood closer along the steps, but all a level lower than Seb Creat. Lavish garments adorned each individual, competing for the richest most expensive design. One followed by another, presented Seb Creat a garment offering. Some tore away fine fabrics from their garments, while others donated their feathered hats, or skin-made gloves.

"Save me." The murmurs of an old woman soared from the back of the crowd. "Save me, today he'll have both," with her eye-lids closed, she walked slowly to the steps and dropped her offering. A silver necklace fell from her hands. The pendant landed against the ivory floors, staring into the dome-like, transparent ceiling; it was the fresh eye of the Seer. Like a rushing wind, she turned. The woman's eyelids flashed, revealing the empty holes. Her offer lingered with worth as the Court exhaled in jealousy.

In order to receive Seb Creat's praise, a member of the Court was to top the offering. Their sights turned on a tall woman and her two companions. Dark, makeup stripes strengthened her composure as she petted one of the creatures. The beings accompanying her laid around her feet like two Dobermans. Even covered in black-leather bands and fastened by metal leashes, they looked human-like, but they were no more than extravagant pets. Suspended on black heels, she held on to the thick leash and managed to tame the creatures. Bent on their arms and legs, the beings ran with her. With a deep kiss and a spilled tear, the woman abandoned one of them by the altar. Through the last offering the Court had regained their Lord's praise.

"I know you can feel them." Gilcome raised an eyebrow in the form of a warning. "I also know you can wield them." He clutched my neck and before losing his sights on Brox, whispered, "For the safety of your acquaintances, stick to the plan. My energy, although within you, can never betray me. It will never abandon me." He moved apart from the crowd and walked ahead.

"There he is! My son. Grant, please join me." Lord Creat had recognized him among the crowd. "Come, come. Let the ceremony begin." Once Gilcome had gone, the space he had occupied quickly filled by the pushing and shoving of spectators. Trumpets sung along as the harnessed took their clear-glass feeding stations.

A man in a dark cloak stepped behind me, "He betrayed us all."

"Dez?"

"The members gave him shelter, food and caring for many years. My Home raised a seed for the wicked. He was a spy. How could no one notice? Neither Zorga, nor Ms. Baynes could do their job—not even my own daughter. The members were supposed to filter Creat's evil, instead they let him right through the doors. They allowed him to stain an unpolluted land." It wasn't their fault. Maybe he should have looked closer for someone to blame. Dez had hidden, he'd fled instead of fighting. He set himself to sleep, knowing his wife had been captured. All those years, how could he have stayed still, alone with his thoughts? Had he no sense of guilt? The sole purpose of the House was to act as a portal to infiltrate Fexorrians into my world.

"The World has its own share of evil. If its pureness concerns you, it is a little too late. They are all corruptible...like Fexorrians."

He gasped in astonishment with a hint of disgust. "How can you speak that way?" Dez paused and sighed in relief—"At least their rule will come to an end tonight." The certainty in his words jittered at the sight of my puzzled face. "The curse of the crown set by the Halls of Existence falls upon any second lineage member. Meaning there can't be two consecutive rulers linked by blood. Else, whoever is crowned during a ruler's reign, is drained of their energy—Creat knows of Existence's Curse but he'd rather sacrifice Gilcome than to have the Devine Foretelling befall on his reign." Dez chuckled, "Except Gilcome cannot be crowned. This time, there will no loop hole."

"Gilcome can't rule, then?"

"No. Gilcome is not barren like his father therefore his energy will be drained and discarded to the Halls of Existence." Dez closed his eyes in bliss and said, "I can feel the force of his power. It's strong, fresh, unlike any other. The crown will consume him."

Grief infiltrated my senses, I dared not to look at him but the shrugging of my shoulders let him know. To him, to his cause and to mom, my actions were disgraceful. What would she think of me?

"It won't consume him, will it?" Anguish fell upon his glance. "It's you. It's your energy. What have the two of you done?" Dez' hands covered his face in disbelief, "June, this is a violation. You will be tried for this! June, June—are you listening?"

From our viewpoint, my mother's face looked peaceful, without a hint of disapproval. There could not be. Her clothes, her company, even where she sat, revealed her nature. She was a member of the Elite, the highest ranking official in Fexorrous. She had allowed my father to die, yet she wept for those murdered by Creat's hand. Having the ability to save him, the Elite had condemned my father to die, to be ripped in pieces by winged beasts. How could she disapprove of me? My desire to rule was greater than anyone's opinion, it was greater than disappointment. I needed power, I needed it for my father, because he had believed in me. Hope had to be lifted, raised into the spirits of those willing to dream. But mostly, I needed power for myself, to grow, to burst through the limits of my physicality. At that moment, Dez' words meant nothing. They dissolved in the wind, leaving the air unaltered. Nothing Dez had to say was relevant.

"Dear friends," Lord Seb Creat rose from his chair and requested the Court's attention. "Before the feeding, I would like to, officially, welcome my son to Fexorrous. After the completion of a troubling mission, the future leader of this land has returned to set our hearts at ease. He has brought us back hope, for he is the true Carrier of Hope." The crowd cheered and praised their rulers. "The Royal House has withstood many combats and as long as I live, our citizens will live free of Existence and its laws. Free of the Council and its superiority ideals, and free from rulers wishing to program our citizens into believing that form design, innovation, experimentation and sharing will condemn us—now," Seb Creat joined his hands at his chest and bowed his head, "join me, silently, in a moment of worship for our gracious, harnessed sources. Let our feeding and reenergizing be as gratifying for us as for them." The Court had already separated into feeding-groups along the glass stations when Seb Creat interrupted their draining desire. "Wait, wait. One more thing." Creat's eyes blackened with anticipation. "As a gift to honor the Court's loyalty, I present the purest source; untainted and organic. This energy is rich in emotion; fear, hate, anguish. It flows in doubt and certainty, in realization and damnation. The most wanted being in Existence, the simplest, the healthiest, the answer seeker, has been brought to Fexorrous for the Court's delight. Straight from the tap, you'll be able to absorb the wonder of the human mind." He reveled in the Court's amazement. "Bring me the human!"

The air thickened nearby, shrinking my breathing source. Two guards began shoveling people around me to make way. My eyes looked up at Gilcome, frightened, searching his face for answers. It must have been part of his plan to place me near Seb Creat. However, Gilcome seemed as stunned as I. A few rows in front of me, I was able to catch a glimpse of Brox's worrisome appearance. He would not stop looking back, I stared too, trying to decipher his looks. Brox took short steps, taking a few pauses in-between to look back into the crowd. After the fourth step, he had lost sight of me. Desperately he searched for me, to meet my eyes again.

Dez sneaked words behind me once again, "Don't worry. It's not you Creat wants." His words distracted my eyes backwards and, in a matter of seconds, Brox was gone from my view. "There's nothing to fear," Dez assured me. "You are no longer a human." He turned away, repulsed by my serenity. "Though if I were you...I'd be shivering in my boots. June Corpelle has broken out of her specie—you belong among the kind-less. That should frighten you!" Dez strained every syllable between his teeth, wishing to insult me. "Who knows what you've become?" His words resonated in my mind but disappeared outwards onto the crowd when Brox found my eyes again. The bald woman being dragged by him, seemed unresponsive and accepting of her fate. Brox's spirit was beaten, as if he walked an innocent lamb to the slaughterhouse. Every painstaking step was transferred to me via his glance. I wished he would look away. Others began to murmur, wondering why he looked into the crowed so often.

The woman stumbled on the steps but Brox held her up, knowing they were closer to her demise. When she reached the top, Seb Creat took her hand and presented her to his son. Gilcome would decline the offer, he could not feed, not before the Coronation. He whispered into his father's ear and Seb Creat nodded in agreement. "Well then," Seb Creat smiled, holding on the fragile woman, "let's present her first to the families who have brought sources for your future reign."

Gilcome wrinkled his nose and stepped in, before the bald woman was lowered to the families seated around the throne steps. "Actually father, though my greatest gratitude is directed to the sources brought in aid to my reign, I would like to present the human, exclusively, to the Court." The woman was taken into the Court's seating section. A glass station had already been prepared for her. Brox laid the woman on the clear box which suspended her a few feet above the ground. Then, her spine device was connected to the feeding table. A few droplets of blood fell through the feeding table's orifice and stained the ivory floors. Brox flinched when her body began to shiver. He took a lasting stare at me, then allowed his face to drop, resigned to the woman's suffering. "The Court will be asked to keep this being alive." Gilcome announced, seated on the arm chair next to his father's throne. He directed himself towards the Court. "Unlike other beings, a drained human can be replenished, and this woman's life will serve us for many ruling years. Use care when feeding." As Gilcome pleaded for her life, I began to walk closer to the steps. He caught my glance and twinkled his eyes. "Before the Coronation I would like my father's blessing and that of the Court."

"Grant, you've always had my blessing and I'm sure the Court agrees." Seb Creat smirked, fascinated by the Court's feeding.

"This is a different blessing, father." Gilcome made his way down to the steps and separated the crowd in half, meeting me at the center. "Unbind her," He ordered the two guards who had been tailing me. Gilcome's deceitful grin flashed across the throne steps. He took my arm alongside his. "The strongest source must stand beside me, to aid my future reign. I ask the Court to bless the energy within this Carrier."

"A Carrier?" Seb Creat studied me in amazement. In the weight of a glance Seb Creat felt the force of my energy. To the eyes of the Court, Seb patted his son's back proudly. The Lord took a second look at me and was unable to break through my thoughts. He asked in a frustrated sigh: "What is the meaning of this?" Creat's whispers were in close range, so I was able to hear. "Who is this girl?"

Gilcome did not answer his question but replied by kneeling, so that the proceedings could resume. The white piece of cloth tied on my wrist quivered fiercely as nervous tremors clutched my hands. From the top level, I had a clear vintage point of every guard. There was one at every balcony, two in front of the exits and a barrier surrounded the steps. At the sight of a raised weapon they would take me down instantly. The view also flowed out into the city, flooded by a multitude of Fexorrians. The somber presence of the Elite rested highly above the famished members of the Court.

Intoxicated by the human, they continued extracting her energy while the woman's broken gaze pleaded for help. Brox lingered by the feeding station, trying to distract her from the pain. A tender look convinced me the bald woman was the energy slave. Brox held her life close to his hands, he believed her damnation was his doing. But there was something else he wished to portray in his glace; something she wanted to let me know as well. Murmurings in the crowd drove my focus out, interweaving among the sounds. Dez stood with arms crossed, behind him a few guards were closing in. The Seer approached him, she spoke to him, then set her mumbling on to the air. The wind pushed her voice in a circle around me. In a blasting blur, her voice muttered my name. My name ran loudly and it filled the hall, but a second voice joined the blind woman's. This voice I had heard before, many times. It had been so long I had almost forgotten it. It was Leev's.

"By the power of the Royal House, I, Lord Seb Great, name my son, Grant Gilcome Creat, future ruler of Fexorrous." A band of jewels was placed on his head. The signal had been given, Gilcome remained staring, baffled by my paralysis.

"Save me, Save me." Leev's voice felt stronger and closer. I looked at the bald woman, knowing she would not last much longer. Then she mouthed my name clearly and her voice was Leev's.

The stillness of the dagger bothered me, it pinched my skin and, like ice, it chilled me. All at once I heard many voices and the loudest was the blind woman's. "For the one who carries hope. Save me. June, June. Save her. Save us. June..."

Seb Creat paced next to me so that all could see the future ruler of Fexorrous. He grabbed Gilcome's arm and raised it in victory. Gripping his father's hand, Gilcome left it suspended, giving me access to his heart. He controlled my gaze with his eyes, and commanded my hand on the dagger. Rage took my sight hostage, my body fell forwards on top of Lord Creat. The gash shocked him to the ground. As he lost his balance I watched the white piece of cloth stain in red while my hand remained glued to his chest. The room quaked, feeling distinct energy chains rush out him. Gilcome and I fell to our knees as the room electrified with energy currents.

A flow raised the Seer a few meters up towards the ceiling. The currents entered her being, nourishing her spirit and rejuvenating her body. The flow released the woman on the ivory floors. Dez remained baffled, then like a spark, he ran towards her. He placed his hands above her head and told her to open her eyes. The deep, emerald-green color of her eyes blinded the room with grace. "Oh my Cora. Finally, you can see me."

Brox ran up the steps to help me down and thanked me for saving the bald woman. I wrapped my arms around her bony structure and noticed the bruising of her back. Finally she was able to cry. "June. Oh June. I've missed you terribly. I thought of you and mother every day." Some of her energy had been returned with the shock.

"How could they have taken you, Leev? Why? Why did they hurt you like this?"

"Because I wouldn't tell them about you. It was my purpose to surrender."

"You're here, alive." Why had I not searched for her? How could I have accepted her death? "Leev...Leev I'm so sorry. Forgive me."

"No. I blame myself." We hugged again and when my hands returned I felt the power of silver shackles constricting my energy, all of me. "Jeff, what are you doing to her?" Leev asked in panic. "She saved me, she saved us." My cousin pled for me, but Brox tightened shackles.

"—Jeff? What do you mean—Jeff? You are Jeff, the Jeff?" How could he have done this to Leev? Brox remained silent, his head lowered in shame.

"Yes, he is June. Jefferson Brox, Council Guard for the Halls of Existence...I know." Leev came at his defense. "I've forgiven him."

"How could you?" I turned to face him, revolted by disgust, but he wouldn't look at me. Gilcome had been constrained as well. He shook the cuffs wanting to get free, but these were council shackles, forged in the Halls of Existence. They suppressed a being to the last energy drop.

The crowds dissolved and Gilcome and I remained at the center. We were the object of shameless ambition. The judging looks came from all those whom I had, once, sworn to help. My grandmother, Cora, couldn't understand why I had been restrained, but Dez eagerly explained. Then she could not bear to look. Leev's sobs ceased once my mother reached the floor. With her, there was another hooded member of the Elite. The fabric fell backwards revealing a face which neither Gilcome nor I, wished to ever ponder upon; Controller Hed's.

"The Council must address the crimes committed against Existence. Until your energies return to their original balances both shall be confined.

***

Days after our capture, the land of Fexorrous fell under the rule of the Council. Dez and Cora were not allowed to rule Fexorrous and although they appealed the Council's ruling, both were exiled to ensure their safety and that of the people. Brox returned to the Halls of Existence, however, he was stripped of his title as a Council Guard. As for my mother, she continued serving the land of Fexorrous as a member of the Elite and a missionary for the Council of Existence. Leev was healed and allowed to return back to our World. The Controller plans on using her as a string of communication between the dimensions.

Of what exists outside the white room I live in, there's not much to say. I sit alone, staring out a window, imaging the Sanctuary trees; trying to remember the smell of freedom. Although the room is soundproof, a voice plagues my mind like an unwanted guest. During the evening hours, while the starlight begins to dim, it crawls under the door, or perhaps, it flows through the slim entry-way of the keyhole. It is his voice; Gilcome's voice. It has always been his voice and he is aware that I can hear it.

Every day, I re-write the events that stole my freedom, not because I fear of forgetting but because it's all I am reminded of while the seconds die away with the starlight. As I gaze at my reflection in the window, a streak of blue stains the clearness of the glass. Until the day of my trial, I will write; until all has been written and not a word is left concealed. The verdict, however, is not likely to cause upheaval in my life. Everything will stay the same, as I've been destined to become a vehicle of communication for the future Creator.

Through my writings, I understood Gilcome's trap. I was destined to fall for it, since hearing his voice on the Plains. He had been the one into the future, the one who had cautioned us about a great disaster. It hadn't been Dez' fault, it had been his own...and mine for trusting him. Gilcome was the voice in my dreams, the presence in the Plains. He had stolen the vibrancy of my spirit and for his crimes we both had to pay. But now I had something of his; something he cringed at the thought of living without. I wouldn't give it back. His energy infused me with power, and although I was caged, because of it, in my mind, I roamed free.

Illuminating a spark of curiosity, he had shown me the Sanctuary; the place to seek. Now it was neither his nor mine. The only thing that comforted me was the assurance of a hateful glance through the large peephole. I lived for the hint of fury, glimmering among the gray highlights of his clean, blue gaze, piercing through the hole. His enigmatic grin implied that was to be my sanctuary...until the end of Existence.
