She dreamed of a kiss, too good to be true. Her fingers gripped the lapels of his jersey.
“Wake up.”
She moaned.
Prod.
More moans… falling.
Falling?
Her eyes flew open, a delicious blush spread across her cheeks as she hit the ground. He was looking at her. The man of her dreams. How embarrassing.
CAN ANGELS LIE: LENNOX VANDERWERKEN
Kisa Kevser was very kind. She was patient, and she cared. Those were the qualities of a pure angel. But like any living being that could think, Kisa had thoughts on everything. And she was not afraid to voice them when given the opportunity. Lennox noticed this. He noticed everything that was related to his little protégé because whatever happened to her, whatever she did, reflected on him. Kisa though, was nearly perfect, if only she held her tongue a bit more. But she couldn’t—didn’t know how to in any circumstance.
Lennox looked over at the long line of homeless youths waiting for their serve of soup for the night. Each and every one of them had an expression on his or her face that communicated something, a feeling of great sadness. Angels of the third rank were more in tune with the feelings of humans in conjunction with maintaining an objective stance toward them. But third rank had fewer obligations to maintain objectivity compared to someone in second, and least of all the first rank. Those in the first rank were closest the Almighty, and were least in tune with humans, and generally could not care less about them. Standing here in this shelter was not entirely what someone of his rank should be doing. But he thought it was a good place to start. It was a good place for Lennox to isolate the pros and cons of Kisa Kevser, and then from there, slowly whittle away her cons and reshape her as the perfect angel she should be.
“We need more soup Lennox.” Lennox turned around to see Kisa standing there. She had dress that covered the gems inset on her chest today, and one that made her look more innocent and childish than the other. He also noticed that the sleeves, while gauze, were long and covered her arms entirely.
Lennox looked around for more soup, but one sweep of the kitchen told him exactly what he thought, “no more. There’s no more.” Turning back to the line though, he knew he would have to be the unlucky one to tell them that this meal was over. Before he could though, Kisa’s hand was on his arm, and her musical voice said, “It’s okay, I will tell them Lennox.”
Lennox. His name was pronounced Lennex, but the way she said it, made it sound more magical and desirable than how others said it, with the exception of Cara de Vries.
Nodding slightly, he watched her walk over to the line. It shouldn’t have been shocking to see how her presence lightened the knowledge she was about to give the ones who missed out.
“Extraordinary angel, that one,” said Alona. She was the manager of the shelter for the day. With long dark red hair and sharp eyes, she was also a human. And she was a hard worker, even though every day she wore the same high stilettos and tight, face-stretching ponytail updo. Alona looked taller than Kisa, but if he took her shoes away, Lennox was sure they were about the height. She turned her eyes to look at Lennox, dark brown, with a glow of red, it took Lennox a moment longer to realise that she was younger than she seemed. Tilting her head up to look at Lennox, she added, with a faint smile, “And I don’t think she’s in the right business. Speaking of business, I don’t suppose she could partake in a shoot, with hair like that, she would fit right into the underwater theme we have going on at the moment at Bellezza.”
Lennox smiled sadly, “unfortunately no, she cannot. But I understand what you mean,” he said in a fair and firm manner, so that she would not think to try and persuade him otherwise.
The girl smiled tightly and it was evident, she was hardly deterred by his words at all.
When Kisa came back to join them, she smiled politely at Alona, greeting and also saying her goodbye the way any good little angel would before Lennox took her away. Lennox smiled at Alona, there’s no way I would leave you alone with her. Alona though returned the smile, her eyes narrowed clearly reflecting the endless determination the girl was known for; she wouldn’t give up. Which meant, if Lennox intended to fulfil his mentorship, he had to keep an even more watchful eye on Kisa to ensure that she did in fact learn to maintain angelic composure.
Outside, in the arid heat, Lennox tucked his forefinger under the collar of his polo and pulled it away from his neck. Running his finger along the collar, he tried to widen the space as much as possible to let out the suffocating heat that was trapped between his body and the shirt he was wearing. It wasn’t working.
“Like this.” Kisa reached up and loosen the buttons at the top of his polo. Buttons he had buttoned up to maintain a sense of decency. “You’ll be more comfortable that way,” she said smiling.
The girl looked up at the sky, and said, “Did you know, I can read the stars?” She was trying to be cool and cute. But she was slightly flustered, and she was shy. Looking up at the guy standing next to her—rather she peeked up at him, and ‘peeked’ would have described it better if she actually had bangs or a hat for her peek from under, which she did not—she saw him look down at her, and she smiled. Sort of. It was a small smile, because she didn’t know if she should really play it cool and look really knowledgeable, or if she should play it cute, and smile brightly. But she was wary of everything about herself. She wanted to adjust her scarf, to brush her hair back, to lick her lips which were getting chapped. But she didn’t want to seem overly conscious, so she just stuck with licking her lips, even though she could feel something in need of readjusting—her scarf, her shirt, or her bra, she didn’t know, but she hoped it wasn’t embarrassing.
“Oh?” He said. He had his hands tucked in his pockets, and though they were standing close, she was standing a little away from him too. She had asked him out, well asked if he would like to go and star gaze with her at the university. He was busy, but it seemed she had caught him on a free night. Or rather, he also had something to do here, and so it was all kind of convenient, nothing special really.
“Oh yes! I can!” She said, encouraged by his reply, which seemed like he was curious. Or maybe he just didn’t believe her. She didn’t believe her either, and this was either going to come across as corny, or maybe it would give her the answer she wanted to hear. Or maybe, she was just going to embarrass herself. She was hoping for the middle answer.
“Alright, go, tell me something.”
Crap. How was she going to start this? “Well…the stars tell me you’re a Taurus,” she began lamely.
He laughed, and she wanted punch him in the arm. “You know when my birthday is!” He said laughing, and shifting away when she really did reach out to punch for his arm. Her fist glanced off the hard, yet soft, fleshiness under that cotton sleeve of the hoodie he was wearing.
“Just listen!” She said, flushing red, a mixture of embarrassment and annoyance, yet her mouth was parted in a smile.
“Okay, okay,” he said holding up his hand as she went in for another punch. “Stop punching me and I will.”
He was such a liar. Yet he was still here, looking overly amused. Pouting lightly, and looking up at the sparsely cloud covered sky, she squinted. All around them there were other stargazers wrapped in thick coats, puffy jackets, and some, even in blankets. Most of them had telescopes, borrowed or purchased, set up in front of their chairs—a variety of camp chairs, stools, cushions on wood and even one office chair. Even though the event was for a few hours only, people had gathered early, collected telescopes and settled in as if for the night. She had been a little too late to get a telescope, but at least she had dad’s small one in her pocket. Coming here had been on whim. She had actually been late in hearing about the stargazing event, and had almost chickened out if he hadn’t asked what she was doing tonight in their regularly sporadic texting conversation. An unexpected question and she had said the first thing that had popped into her head. And he had asked if she was going to go, to which she had answered, quite thoughtlessly, “I want to go, but I don’t know…” Being a girl, she couldn’t go alone, regardless of her age. She didn’t have a car, and most of her friends lived on the other side of the city. If she wanted to go out, fine. But she usually had to be back before dark—lest she bring down the rain of worried parental censure and a storm of scolding for rebellious young girls. And then he had surprised her, asking her if she wanted to go. It wasn’t like he knew about her family and all their weird cultural—maybe it wasn’t cultural, maybe it was just parents being parents even though she wasn’t exactly sixteen anymore—it wasn’t like she wanted to share. The last time she shared with a guy, it became the sky climbing wall between them. What had possessed her to ask him? In many ways, it had been perfect timing, and when she’d asked if he would go with her, and felt the extreme elation that came with knowing she had somewhat succeeded.
For as long as she could walk and talk and brush her hair, pull it back and make it look pretty, she had been unable to flirt. In actuality, it wasn’t that she didn’t know how to flirt, it was just that with guys, she had a difficult time reacting. It was always too embarrassing for her. So she kept her mouth shut if there was a guy around, and even more so if that guy was good looking, tall and somewhat possessed an aura that she, with her daydream tendencies, could only daydream of having. And if any of those guys talked to her, despite the fact that she had gotten better at talking to such guys over the years, she could rarely do little more than smile and answer the question. Other than that, she was just shyly standing off to the side, awkward.
But with this guy, it had been kind of sudden, and it had been kind of vague between them—a grey cloud separating black to white. He was everything she liked, dreamed of, and had hoped. It seemed beyond real for her to be trading words with this guy, and yet it was so very normal. For once, she had her head screwed on tightly, though, not so much when she was returning texts. With those, she hardly knew what she was saying. So maybe her head wasn’t tied on that tightly, but she wasn’t a teenager and she could handle this like a woman.
Woman. If only she could be as smart and sophisticated as a woman should be—she was anything but which made her mind a whole lot more receptive to the torrent of daydreams that were coming to her on a daily basis. Such wonderful daydreams. So awfully farfetched. But she enjoyed them nonetheless, doing no more, and no less than necessary when it came to him. She liked the grey. She liked and disliked knowing and not knowing where they stood. So why had she opened her mouth and asked him out. Well rather, she had typed it into her phone, pressed send and had heart palpitations all evening until he replied back with ‘okay’. Okay. Such a simple word. While in flowery terms, it sent her heart smashing out of her chest, soaring far and wide, in much simpler, plain and realistic terms, her hands had gone clammy and she fretted, thinking of cancelling five seconds after asking.
“So, what are the stars telling you?” He prompted her, jerking her out of her thoughts.
She was already here now, the sun was just about setting, meeting the horizon at the set time, just after six in the evening. They were still standing, but that was okay. There were others standing too.
She smiled, “you see up there?” She pointed at a random constellation. It was a surprise to see even that constellation up in the sky. But then again, other than a few wisps of cloud, it was an unusually clear night. But thankfully, and luckily too.
He looked at her first, then looked up too.
“I didn’t think it would be up there tonight, so this is purely coincidental, but it looks good,” she said wistfully. She was making this up as she was going along. It was not coming out like she had daydreamt in her head. In her head, her speech had been smoother, and she had acted more sophisticated and cool. An enviable persona. But well, regardless of the fact that she was failing this miserably now, she was going to push ahead and try.
“Oh?”
She could hear that smile in his voice again, but she ignored it, swallowing hard, and ploughing on. “Legend says if you see that constellation in the sky, it means your love life is going to improve.” Corny. Corny. It had come out corny. Why had she said it?
She couldn’t look at him now.
“And-it’ll-get-better-if-you-ask-the-one-you’re-interested-in-out-on-a-date,” she said, letting the words spill out in a single chunk. She really couldn’t look at him now, and yet she dared to peek up at him, expecting a heavily dealt blow of rejection. But if she was to think that she didn’t have a chance here, that if she had misread all the signs, then she really wouldn’t have a chance at all. At the same time though, she didn’t want to build up expectations, she didn’t want to find herself in a position where she was worried constantly, fretting idiotically about whether a guy was interested in her or not. She just wanted….what did she want? Why had she asked if he wanted to come today? What was she thinking in letting those words spill out? Why couldn’t she just say ‘do you like me’?
He blinked, evidently something was going on in his mind that she couldn’t even conceive, and right now didn’t want to. She was so tempted to close her eyes, squint and go back in time to when this never happened, but then he opened his mouth.
What happens next, I truly don’t know. I thought about writing the ending, but honestly, I just thought this story up one random afternoon. I was kind of daydreaming while scanning through facebook, and seeing that my university was holding a ‘break the star gazing record’ event, which, had I known earlier, I would have totally gone! I wrote this immediately after I daydreamed it, but I never got to the ending, in my daydream or when I wrote it, and when I read it over, I realise, I don’t know how I would end it. Maybe if I set it aside, thought about it, and edit it, I might know, but for now, I don’t know!
I would loovvveeee to know how you, my dear readers, fellow bloggers, and all friends, if you happened to have read the above all the way through, would end this short story!
Sourced from here: Link
She is a bear, huddled in her blankets all covered. Her hair splayed across the pillows, eyes closed. The chill could not touch her. The rain endlessly pouring, visible through the curtains. She smells it—and sleeps on. Shoots spring from moistened land as the sun rises, spreading warmth. And she awakens, stretching, welcoming spring.
[N.B] This time last year, it was unseasonable warm. Although I dislike immense heat, I do prefer it to be a little warmer–I miss being able to walk out with only a t-shirt on! (and pants of course!!!!) I probably wouldn’t mind winter so much if we actually had snow down here–that would be fun! (The novelty of it would exceed all negatives associated with it.) But no….down under only mountains get snow, flatlands get rain, rain, and more rain, which leads to mud, which leads to mud covered dogs, which leads to ten clothing changes in one day haha. Ah well! I’m looking forward to summer, and luckily, today is a nice cold but sunny day <3.
She opened the book, flipped the pages, breathed in the new book smell. Her eyes moistened, becoming shiny and overcome with emotion. There are no words she could use to express how she was feeling right now. All she knew were the words on the page: This is my story, and it starts with you.
The man was beaten, thrown down to the ground, sweat, blood, cut to the bone. His eyes rolled back, his life flashing before his eyes, and the world spinning out of his grasp. She’s looking at him. Fearful. Afraid. A lion roars in him, sends his blood raging. He surges upwards—one punch knockout win.
.
A MOON AT STAKE: ADRIENNE CYNZIA
When Adrienne woke up the next morning, Cara de Vries had managed to become shoved to the very back of her mind, becoming the least of her worries even though she should have been the most concerning problem in Adrienne’s bank of future disasters to come. However, even though the sun was gloriously baking Adrienne as she lay in her bed, unwilling to force herself to complete her daily pre-bar opening routine, Adrienne could only think about the events of the night before. She was here. Selene was here, or as she went by here, Cynthia Kaminski, well known model.
Groaning, she rubbed her temples, blinking up at the plain cream ceiling. Part of the ceiling was peeling to her left, tucked away in a corner that it was almost barely noticeable. If you weren’t lying on the bed like Adrienne was, you wouldn’t have noticed it. But right now, all Adrienne seemed to want to do was to stare at this imperfection on her ceiling. Stare and stare until it became the bane of her existence forcing her out of her bed and into work clothes. She wanted this imperfection gone, and while she wasn’t much of a handyman, she could fix a wall. It couldn’t be that hard. So long as it was fixed, and the blemish was finally gone after living here for such a long time.
This was how Algor Rosenberg found her a few hours later when he arrived at the bar to help with the pre-bar opening routine. He had just walked in downstairs when he heard a string of angry French swear words explode from above, and with one glance around, it was obvious that there was no one else around. With no other indication of any other living soul within the building, Algor took it as Adrienne getting mad over some home project or another. This was unusual, since Adrienne rarely partook in personal home projects alone, let alone by herself. They were just not something she was good at, yet, Algor had come to realise the woman only reacted in such a way when she was piss mad at something, or distracted, or had a mind that felt like it was going to explode. Whichever of those reasons were currently preoccupying her mind, Algor hoped that it wasn’t all three.
He was wrong.
And when he walked upstairs and into her room, invading Adrienne’s personal space, all he could say was, “whoa…”
AHHHHHHH IT’S OUT! A new Literary Journal that accepts writers of all ages, background and experience and gives them a chance to share their work with other readers and writers. And guess who submitted one of their short stories to this Journal? Me!!! I’m published! Guys I’m published! This feels amazing! And I was so excited! So of course, I want to share this all with you :). (Even if it’s one short story in a new journal, it still counts, plus I love the feeling I get from this journal–you know how you can get a ‘feeling’ about a good journal and a bad one? Well I had a good one here!)
Now, the story I published, called A Story in Time: New Years Wishes is actually not a new story for you, my lovely followers. You may have remembered me publishing here for the New Year of 2014:
A Story in Time, New Year’s Wishes. Part One.
A Story in Time, New Year’s Wishes. Part Two.
A Story in Time, New Year’s Wishes. Part Three.
A Story in Time, New Year’s Wishes. Part Four.
A Story in Time, New Year’s Wishes. Part Five.
However, the story I submitted to Lazy Day Writing has been edited a little and expanding 😉 . So feel free to take a look! It’s free to download (though only PDF for now) and it’s full of some of the most interesting stories :). I’m hoping the journal continues running, because it’s a great idea! Furthermore, the Editor has done a great job with the whole journal.
THE DEVIL’S CHILDREN: CARA DE VRIES
Boys, idiots, Cara thought as she shoved her way through the crowd. Though Cara hardly spared a thought for who she passed by or whether they were even boys to begin with, they could have been men! But well, like Cara cared. Uncouthness was uncouthness, and what she had seen was enough to categorise and file away.
Sighing heavily, she had no idea where to go now. She had completely failed in her attempt to tempt Adrienne Cynzia into telling her about Lennox Vanderwerken.
Making her way to the best hotel in the city (it was so much classier to call it a town, though it looked more liked the city she had grown up in over two hundred years ago, and not at all like a city that existed in the present day), Cara charmed her way into a very last minute, upper class hotel room. With a flick of her hair, and a flash of a smile, Cara was booked in and at a fine price too. Even if she earned enough and had enough savings for several times over, there was no need for her to waste it on accommodation, was there? But then, her own place would be nice. And if she was truly honest with herself, she technically did not have that much in savings, not with her frivolous attitude to life.
As she took the keycard from the receptionist, the woman said, “I love your outfit.”
Blinking, Cara smiled, “thank you, perfect isn’t it?” She said twirling around once elegantly, showing off the Victorian era dress. Although Cara’s head was tilted to the side looking down at her dress, she was not actually doing that. It was just anyone who was within her vicinity who was affected by her illusion who saw what she wanted them to see, including the fact that she currently looked ten years older, slightly taller, and was twirling around. In reality, she was merely standing there, smiling with the keycard in her hand ready to leave.
Waiting out the receptionist’s awe, Cara politely took the compliments and said, “custom made,” when the woman asked where Cara had gotten such a dress. She had had it for years, along with a closet full of similar dresses in different shades.
“It’s amazing,” said the woman in awe.
“Yes, it is,” she said with a hint of impatience in her voice that did not match the friendly smile on her face.
Cara watched carefully, noting the way the receptionist’s smile dimmed a bit when she sensed the impatience, perhaps even heard it, but didn’t see any evidence of impatience on Cara’s face. This made Cara highly amused. She enjoyed watching the confusion in the receptionist’s eyes, and were it not because she had other, better things to do, Cara wouldn’t have mind messing with the receptionist’s mind a little bit more for the fun of it.
MURDEROUS INTENTION: KENICHI AI GRAVITAS
Memories were such fickle things. Kenichi watched as Mio’s fingers twitched. With her eyes closed, Kenichi knew she wasn’t just staring into some daydream with that usual dreamy look of hers. It was because she was working. The only time Mio was ever serious was when she was focusing on retrieving or erasing a particular memory. Such as this very moment. Leaning back against the cushy back of the booth, Kenichi’s violet eyes flickered between his imouto and her client.
The Fae Prince was not one of Mio’s usual customers. He fell into the rare category; a kind of man who requested the removal of his own memories as opposed to someone else’s.
Selfish or selfless? Kenichi considered the Prince. He knew the man was a prince; the fool’s wings were poking out from underneath his polo shirt. Kenichi had noticed. Fae ranks were recognisable based on the colour and transparency of their wings. Although Kenichi would not be what one would call an ‘expert’ on the Fae, but he was knowledgeable from his past experiences, most of them were unpleasant. He could thank his imouto for that.
Kenichi couldn’t remember a day when he was not assisting his imouto and not running into trouble of some kind. His eyes glanced once around the diner. There were plenty to amuse the eye if one was interested in the colourful crowd that populated Riverton. But they were not his concern. Turning his gaze back to Mio, he watched her open her eyes and pull her hands away from the fae’s temples.
“It is done,” she murmured, her violet eyes, several shades paler than Kenichi’s, blinked slowly and de-hazed. Very soon, Mio would revert back to her usual oblivious self and no doubt she would indeed seem like someone incapable of removing memories with absolute precision. “Your request has been fulfilled, once you pay me, I shall remove all trace of this meeting as well.”
WHY WE FALL: BLAYKE FERAY
He was a typical customer to Adrienne’s, and yet, he did not possess the air of a typical customer. Blayke Feray was nervous. If he was not so conscious of where he was currently sitting, then his knee might have been bouncing up and down mimicking the intense beating of his heart. Apparently he was not good at deception, even though he was fallen and no longer sitting amongst the puffy clouds of heaven with Cassia and the rest of Leora’s charming crew. Not that Blayke had wanted anything to do with Leora’s crowd to begin with, it was just well he somehow managed to find himself running into them more often than not.
Glancing left at the woman who appeared to hold the bar mistress’s attention, Blayke was mesmerised. He had not realised how mesmerised he was until the bar mistress said, coldly, “So you found me.”
Blayke blinked and sculling the rest of his drink, he decided to clear out of the bar as soon as possible, it didn’t look like the place someone like he should be. Throwing down the appropriate number of colourful bills, and a few coins, Blayke stepped down off his chair and in one swift move, with a brief glance at the intense air between the bar mistress and the new comer, he made his way out the door.
People like him who wanted nothing more than to lie low knew better than to stay in an environment where a major conflict was potentially going to break out. Adrienne’s Bar, he’d frequented it every so often, but usually he stuck to the wall, drinking in quiet as he frustrated himself over the very fact that he had been in the same town for too long.
Riverton, a safe zone. If there were beings such as Adrienne and her mysterious guest holding presence here, it was no surprise that it was a safe zone. But Blayke knew that it wasn’t the only reason why it was so safe here. Blayke wasn’t safe here. He was just a tad bit more fortified, but safe. The secret in his mind was hardly safe, as was the object locked in a box in his wardrobe. The key, well that was safely around the neck of an angel who was safe in heaven who did not entirely know the truth about the last gift he gave her.
Walking down Riverton Main Street, Blayke felt the roiling unease in his chest for the very fact that he had potentially put his sister at risk. No wonder he fell. A man as selfish as him did not deserve to be up in heaven. He could not even excuse his actions. They had not been for the better good. In the beginning, he had been acting selfishly. One action at a time. No wonder he was fallen.
Arriving at his brick apartment block, Blayke climbed up the stairs one step at a time. Looking down at where he walked mainly to avoid the puddles of water that seemed to never go away. Stepping over a step that had an extremely large puddle of water, he kept his black leather brogue boots clean. Glancing up once as he passed by an open door, Blayke caught sight of a woman with a dark red bob looking agitated. When she saw him, she scowled, causing Blayke to quickly drop his gaze and stride quickly past.
CAN ANGELS LIE? LENNOX VANDERWERKEN
“Is it nice down here?” The young angel asked Lennox Vanderwerken as they touched down, the feathers of their wings ruffling as though to shake of any dirt they may have gathered during their journey from the upper skies to the hardened earth ground.
“Your father has never brought you here?” Len asked her, turning his gaze to that angelic innocence that was familiar with all young angels.
“Oh no, he felt it was…corrupting, the influence of mortals, felt they were too emotional,” she said in a voice that was like honey. It was a lovely voice, suitable for singing, being a little low but not alluringly low.
Lennox huffed, so corrupting, yet they still assign you to me for the mere purpose of eliminating the emotional tendencies you’re already showing. “I would not like to contradict your father’s words, for they are very true. As protectors of such delicate creatures, we cannot be excessive in our selfish desires.” He scanned Riverton’s grand fountain. In the night, it was alight with the lights that edged the circular stone base. “However, Kisa, he can be incorrect sometimes.”
“Incorrect?” Kisa asked, a frown creasing her forehead. Len had heard all about her history when she had been assigned to him.
“Yes, incorrect,” he said as he turned his head, spying a cosy motel for them to rest. “Come, we must find some accommodation.”
“Accommodation, we must…rent?” Kisa’s eyes were wide in surprise at this new understanding. Len frowned, she did not know? She did not understand? Or was it because she had never actually rented before?
“When you were travelling around the world, did you not rent places with your companions?” He said gesturing with one hand for them to walk over to the motel he had seen. While Kisa was wearing a thin white dress looking relatively modern, Len knew he looked out of place. Carrying a large blade on his back, he was wearing a set of white robes, the kind that was popular in heaven.
“Um, not really,” she said, running a hand through her hair. The sleeve of her dress slipped down her upper arm revealing a patchwork of white and light brown scars. Len made no comment about the scars, he had been instructed to slowly uncover the story of her year away from home piece by piece. It was amongst one of the things he had to attend to in order to mentor her properly. She was not…like all the other angels anyway.
Truth, “I see, well since it’s too late to find the real estate, it is the more appropriate option. Tomorrow, we will be moving in, in a manner of speaking, into the home that has been organised for us.” Lennox pushed the door of the motel office open and looking faintly blank, he pressed the bell on the counter. Next to him, he noted the way Kisa’s nose wrinkled in disgust at the quality of this office.
Lennox had often made frequent trips down to Earth for a variety of different reasons but he had never stayed more than a night so he had gotten used to checking into whatever motel was available. Pleasant or not, he wasn’t bothered.
Smiling faintly at the manager who walked into the office, yawning and looking as old as their hair, grey and lined, perhaps mid-fifties? The man’s eyes roamed over Lennox taking no note of anything unusual except the blade strapped to his back before looking over at Kisa, who certainly held more of his attention no doubt for her wavy blue-turquoise tresses, before his eyes dared to trail down. Kisa too immersed in staring at her surroundings left it to Len to defend her honour. He wondered if she even noticed, wearing a dress cut as low as hers was (albeit covering everything perfectly), revealing the line of five blue gems set in her chest. The teardrop shaped gem in the centre, right below the joint of her collarbones. One each side of this gem, set two smaller gems that lined the collarbone. Now, Len knew the story behind the gems, they were related to her parentage, but he was to pretend he didn’t know anything.
A MOON AT STAKE: ADRIENNE CYNZIA
Adrienne’s day had been rather ordinary before Cara had waltzed in. It had actually been very relaxing, and unusual, entirely free of any of the visions that had plagued Adrienne daily. So she had been in an awfully good mood. Not even the bane of cleaning each and every glass bothered her. She smiled more willingly this evening than she had in the last seven days, let alone the last month. There were no raging headaches, no pounding pain at the back of her skull. It was a positive, after all, there were approximately three to four hundred people in the main rooms of the nightclub that was conjoined with her bar who were celebrating Halloween in the most drunken, degrading manner as possible. So despite having to deal with so many irritating men and women potentially trashing the nightclub (although many heed the warnings, some are still fool enough to dare break something of hers) it was pleasant day, right up until the moment when the sylph by the door decided to be generous with his powers. That did not bode well with Adrienne, and made her frown for the first time all day.
She was used to seeing Cara come in whenever she liked, it was with a little bit more gusto than the older woman had expected. To some of Adrienne’s customers, Cara would perhaps seem a little too young, but that girl was older than her seventeen years old appearance showed. But that was not what had bothered Adrienne the most. What had bothered her was the intensity of the vision that had consumed Adrienne’s attention the moment Cara thought to play with the customer near the door.
Intense and over in a flash, Adrienne received a headache afterwards, feeling that familiar dull ache and hating it. Not prone to showing intense affection for another humanoid creature, Adrienne considered Cara as nothing more than another customer. Whatever the girl might have considered Adrienne, between the pair of them, Adrienne had always had the upper hand when it counted. She was an interesting demon child, and when interesting walked in her door, Adrienne liked to keep them close to her.
Looking down at Cara now, Adrienne’s face didn’t not even flinch at the words the came out of Cara’s mouth. If Cara had thought she would be more accessible now in her brightened mood, Cara was wrong.
“Why are you looking for an angel Cara?” Adrienne stared down at her, her eyes wide, though not wide in a surprised way, but wider than previously reflecting her concern. Cara was a demon, born but not bred. Not exactly. Cara like Adrienne wasn’t exactly the most sharing person, and so it had taken a while for Cara to tell her that her parents had been adoptive, and that her biological parents were murdered before Cara could even walk on her own. That was all that Cara had told Adrienne, and even though Cara was a very good actress, Adrienne was just as good. There weren’t many who could match Cara’s skill, but Adrienne had been around a long time. When Cara had reluctantly told her those two pieces of information, Adrienne had caught the faint glimpse of determination in Cara’s eyes. She’d looked determined, fierce as though she were ready to pick a fight and win it at whatever cost. It was rare for Adrienne to see such expressions on demons such as Cara. Most of the time, demons were cockily arrogant (as Cara was more often than not) and got themselves killed for merely being ‘evil’. But really, if mortals paid a slight bit more attention to the difference between good and evil, they would have realised that good was not always good, and that evil was not always evil. That, Adrienne had learnt from her friend, Haruki.
Cara hesitated, this time really catching Adrienne’s attention. It must be serious… She thought, and frowned, “Karyna? Why are you looking for an angel?” She asked, daring to go as far as adopting the nickname that Adrienne only used once in a while.
THE DEVIL’S CHILDREN: CARA DE VRIES
It began with a curse. In all honesty, Cara was embarrassed to have found herself cursed. It had to be a lie, but really, anyone who had been there knew that it was not a lie. Hard for it to have been faked too, since Cara had a big, black, admittedly kind of cool looking wicked tattoo on her left arm. At least it wasn’t difficult to hide. But it sure was unpleasant and if anyone knew that Cara had been cursed, then Cara was going attract a lot of dislikeable and unwanted attention.
Strolling quickly down the street, passing numerous shops that had closed for the night, Cara had one destination in mind. Ignoring the men and women who were handing out pamphlets of political propaganda that this particular woman could care less about, the sight of the very chic and elegant bar room came into view.
Anyone who laid their eyes on the lithe and delicate body of Cara de Vries would have wondered what century she had come from if it had been any other day than today. For many, today was known as Halloween. For the witches and wiccan practitioners, today was Samhain. For Christians, it was All Hallow’s Eve. So such fancy dress was hardly out of place. It was not as though Cara cared what others thought of the way she dressed, since she was very comfortable in what she wore. Often times though, Adrienne would complain about how aged Cara was despite being so young and vibrant, full of youthful vigorous energy and not at all like Adrienne herself. Of course, all of this was generally said in a sarcastic tone, and it wasn’t like Cara to ever take the older woman seriously. Why should she? Cara had only ever relied on herself.
The paper promoters stopped promoting when she walked passed them, momentarily stunned by her beauty, a fact the woman in question was already highly aware of and not afraid to exploit. The dark did not hide Cara’s figure, her face, or her costume, for it was not entirely dark. There were street lamps alight, despite the ailing one or two, and they illuminated the street of pubs and all things children-free without obstruction. Cara was one of these objects illuminated every time she passed under a street lamp. She was awfully pale, and her hair was reminiscent of an aging middle aged woman’s hair, dark grey. However, it was bereft of any stiffness that might be associated with old lady hair, being soft, and silky to touch and to look at from near and far; that much was obvious to those looking on.
When she noticed that she was being looked at (ogled, after all, is such a vulgar word) her eyes slid over to the watcher, and she would quirk up a small smile. Seduction, though not Cara’s favourite past time, was but one of her many talents. Seeing the paper promoter blush a red deeper than the shade of a red plum brought little bright lights to Cara’s dark eyes and turning away, she continued walking briskly down the street. She was amused. But she was also bored. To know that she would constantly cause the same reaction every time was slowly losing its attraction.
It was excellent then, that right now, Cara had arrived at her destination. Not that she opened the door, or even took one step closer. She was merely staring at the simple, boring redwood door. The only thing spectacularly enlightening to the artistic mind was the stained glass window. It was particularly engaging, and a pleasure to look at, of course, Cara honestly wondered if Adrienne ever looked at it. Even if the woman kept the bar ridiculously clean, the stained glass window always seemed a bit covered with fingerprints. Well, Adrienne better have something for me this time. Honestly, who does that woman think she is? Cara thought to herself, a frown slightly creasing her forehead as she reached forward and pushed the door open hard enough that a gust of wind (wherever it came from Cara did not wish to know) nearly blasted her back out of the doorway.
The wondrous knight,
Carries his sword gallantly,
Striding through the moonlight,
With his horse and man in tow.
He will save any damsel in distress,
With one hand,
He will take the damsel in red dress,
And carry her away to safety.
But wondrous knight,
So seemingly wonderful,
Glowing in the light
And fighting like a gallant warrior,
Against the signs of darkness,
And supposed decay.
She is the damsel,
Not so in distressed,
Watching as he carves
The life out of lives,
The breath of last breaths,
A blade too sharp,
And gallant, not quite so,
And she cries,
Cries,
As the red,
Deepens in her dress,
The material, silk,
Caressingly close to her skin,
The wondrous knight,
Does not know,
That his beauty,
His gallantry,
His knighthood,
Does not hide,
The core inside,
The core of unforgiving,
Turning the yin and the yang
A neverending circle,
Of good deeds,
And brewing hate.
Oh wondrous knight,
The damsel should cry,
But she does not.
Instead,
She holds unto her heart,
The burden of the sorrows,
And whispers to the pains,
That she will,
Undoubtedly carry away,
As she runs,
And runs,
From the so-called Wondrous Knight.
The Lord of the Earth came when Aeon called him. He was sombre in comparison to his usually bright and lively self. It was startling for Aeon to see it.
“Lady Time,” he’d said sombrely.
“Lord Earth,” she responded. She reached forward to clasp his hands. He gently squeezed hers in return. “Will you do it?”
He studied her carefully. No matter how many times he had told her to find out for herself what being human meant. No matter how many times he and Lady Death had said that she shouldn’t be so pessimistic about human deaths, she had never done it. And yet this time, she had gone on her own accord.
“Lady Time, you surprise me.” He nodded and pulled his hands away from hers. Walking to the two children in the open, and touched Lily.
Aeon turned to John who was watching intently, and with her hands, she covered his eyes, and whispered in his ear, “You cannot look.”
And then, when she felt the change in time, she too called on the golden sands and let herself and John be transported back through time.
The first thing that John did when he opened his eyes and found himself back in his time, he ran. He’d been dragged through time and had to run what felt like a mile. But, he’d agreed if only it would help Lily.
Lily. That was the only thing he cared about in the world.
Lily. He ran, through people-filled streets and across heavy traffic covered roads. He ran until he arrived at her address.
As he was about to ring her doorbell, the door opened.
It was her. Lily, his girl. And as he expected, she was glowing with life. The girl who had been dying just yesterday, was now standing before him full of life.
“Lily!” He gasped, startling her.
For a moment they stare at each other. And then it’s over, and John realises the answer before she says anything.
Aeon watches the fireworks in that city from the roof of one of the tallest towers. It had been three days since she had taken John through time. It had been three days since she had seen John. He’d been ecstatic but, he’d also been sorely disappointed. She’d watched his disappointment when she returned to her realm temporarily to turn the first country into the New Year.
For the twenty-three years after, the Hourglass would turn itself accordingly until all the time zones had been aligned. There may be one giant Hourglass, but surrounding it, there were Hourglasses that had to be turned in accordance. And as long as the big one was turned, the smaller ones would turn as well.
The New Year. A time of resolution and vows to change, even if they don’t come true, Aeon knew most of the people, most of the humans would feel different a year later. They always do.
Even Aeon had felt it.
Many years ago, thousands probably, when she had been first conceptualised, she had been something akin to human. She had a feeling that at that time, she fallen in love and had lost her lover, perhaps to something less fatal than what would have taken Lily’s life. She also reckoned that, at that time, she had watched the New Year come passed by his side as well. That had always been her wish.
And then, when he’d gone, she had become obsessed with time. The lack of time, too much time. She had been obsessed.
Over time, thousands of years later, she had forgotten the meaning of humanity, life and living. Instead she turned into the immortal that she was. She became bored, aware that at one point in her life, she must have cared once before. But because she had forgotten, she had become dullin her senses.
Seeing John care so much about Lily, a woman – no girl – who Aeon had felt, intuitively, may not have loved John as much as he had. Then again, Aeon was just the Lady of Time. Matters of the heart, matters of love, that was up to the actual gods, not a legendary like Aeon.
But what she had feared, that John would be rejected; that he would be forgotten; that Lily had left her childhood friend behind years ago, had come true. She’d seen it. And he had known it.
That moment that she had watched in the Hourglass, had opened her heart just a little, reminding her of that past that she had forgotten.
“Hey! Lady of Time!” She saw him before she heard him. He was climbing up, the ladder squeaking as he went.
She watched him up to the moment when he sat down next to her.
“Happy New Year John,” she said softly. She didn’t dare say, “I’m sorry it didn’t work out.”
“Do you have a name?” He asked after a moment of silence.
She looked at him. “Aeon. I’m sometimes known as Aeon.”
“What a strange name,” he said a tad bit too dully. “I like ‘the Lady of Time’ better. ‘Lady’ has a better ring to it.”
Aeon frowned. “I don’t know where it came from, it’s just a name I’ve been called.”
He laughs a little. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be critical.”
“I know.”
And then for some time they continued to watch the fireworks until they ended. And then, they sat there, waiting, watching, and listening to the voices and cheers of the New Year down below.
“Do you regret it?” Aeon asked suddenly.
“No. This is something I’ll never regret,” he said after a moment.
“Even though this has happened?”
“Yes.” He looked at her. “You did warn me…Lady Time.”
“I did.” She paused. “What will you do?”
Then he gave his wicked smile. “Why, I’ll make her fall in love with me all over again.”
The End>
The nature of Aeon’s job had always been difficult. But yet also very simple. She just had to pass the souls from Lady Death to the Hourglass returning them to life, so that they can be reborn. And then, she must keep time. She must turn the Hourglass day after day, hour after hour.
Aeon over time, grew emotionless, grew bored. She had forgotten. She had one more power. But she cannot execute it alone. And she cannot execute it without full honesty from the requester.
“You want a miracle. A miracle on a day that is not Christmas,” she said quietly. “What makes you think I can grant such a miracle?”
“You’re the Lady of Time,” he said sarcastically. He didn’t believe. Aeon knew he truly didn’t believe in her. “What else but turn back time?”
“Time…is fragile.” She leaned forward. “You love your Lily and yet wish to save her. It is very simple. But turning back time, do you know what can happen?”
He stayed silent. Aeon figured, he was thinking hard about the consequences. So she said, “I may be removed from humans and their sentiments, but I have some understanding. I see it all through time, how people suffer as I watch them in the Hourglass. I know how it seems. If I change time, even if I can, what will change?”
She takes his hands. They’re cold. Just as hers were warm. “I and Lord Earth can make it happen. But do you believe this life will not change?”
“Are you asking whether I believe enough that Lily will not leave me?”
“Yes.”
He looks hard to the right not really looking at anything in particular. “I believe it.”
“You will be the only person to remember that you have saved her life. No one else will have any memories.”
He shook his head slightly. “I don’t care.”
Aeon closes her eyes and sighs. Then, she cast gold dust around him and her.
She whispered in his ear to close his eyes and to keep them closed. He did. And then, Aeon watched the golden sand around her shifting and changing her surroundings. She went from the outside of her hospital to sometime ten years before, to when John was fourteen, to when he was ten and a tiny little shrimp, til at last she the sands dropped her in the centre of a field some fifteen years before that moment where Aeon and John had been standing outside the hospital.
“Open your eyes,” she said. The golden sand swirled once more around them, kicking up a wind, sending a breeze through her hair and ruffling his, plucking at his clothes.
He blinked three times, his eyes barely adjusted to the sun of the summer. “Where are we?”
“You don’t remember this place?” She asked him, turning away and looking around the grassy field. For miles it looked relatively empty. But on closer inspection, in which she was required to squint to look further, Aeon saw what she was hoping to find.
“It doesn’t…look tha…quite familiar.” He looked around too. But he couldn’t see what she could. He couldn’t because he had no idea when in time he was, and he had no idea what he was looking for. How can one look for what one can’t see?
“Come,” she said, walking away from him and towards what she had been looking at. “I know exactly where I’m going.”
“Wait!” He said, calling after her. She heard him trip, swear and then stand up to run after her again. “How the hell are you walking this fast?”
Aeon stopped. And John ran into her. But that didn’t stop her thinking process. She turned to him with a thoughtful look on her face, “I think that’s because I am back in my spirit form, not just an illusion. I’m also in the past and not the present. Overall, I feel lighter. So that must be why I can walk fast.”
“That’s a reason?” He said sarcastically. “Clearly, it’s very understandable.”
“Shut up,” she snapped. Aeon knew it hadn’t made sense, but to her it did. Past and present, present nad future changed how she revealed herself. Yet at the same time, all time was simultaneous for her because she was the turner of time and the Lady of Time, therefore she was all-knowing when it came to all matters concerning time.
“It’s more like, for time that has passed, I am a mere shadow of myself. For time that exists in the presence, I am myself, even in my spirit form where I am more physical than spiritual, unable to be seen by others. And in the time to come, I am like I am in the time that has passed. I myself can’t make any changes.” She paused, stopped talking and then turned back to continue walking. “Yep, that sounds about right!”
“Hey wait! What does that mean? I thought you were giving me a miracle?” John yelled at the fast disappearing Aeon.
“A miracle? Oh yes, I did say something like that didn’t I?”
“Hey! LADY FREAKING TIME STOP WALKING.”
“What?” Aeon yelled back, stopping abruptly.
“What are you doing?” He asked her. “Where am I? What have you done? What about my miracle?”
“I’m talking you to look at something. You’re about fifteen years in the past. I’m doing what I said. Your miracle? Well, it’s coming!” Aeon said in a rush, her head turning back to her target location, she was a tad fidgety. “Now, come on, we have to hurry.”
“What are you saying?” He demanded. “Why hurry?”
“Why don’t you look?” She said, pointing forward to the silhouette of a boy and girl sitting just beyond their reach in the field.
She watched as he paled slightly. “Do you remember now?” She said quietly.
“Yes, I do.”
“Do you still want your miracle?”
He looks at her. Scenes like this can change a person’s determination. But in John, Aeon saw no change. He was not afraid. Even if the present changed out of favour for him, he was not afraid.
“Yes.”
Everyone in their life falls in love. Whether it’s once, twice, three times, early in life, late in life, at the very last moment. For John, John had been in love with Lily since they were little brats. And even though Lily had acted tough all throughout their childhood, she had become weak very quickly by the time it came down to it.
They’d started dating before she’d gotten worse, so it wasn’t until later that he’d learnt about it. And there’d been so much pain in so little time. But in the end, John couldn’t give Lily up.
Now he sat next to her in the hospital room. She was quietly dozing. Not long ago, not many hours ago before, she had been angry with him. It was probably his fault that she was here. No, not probably, definitely.
Aeon watched this scene impartially. She realised early on that she should have felt sad. But somehow, seeing spirits every hour handed to her by the Lady of Death, it was hard to be sensitive. Death was natural. Sickness was natural. But still, seeing the process was a surprise for Aeon.
Aeon couldn’t remember the last time she had experienced this feeling. Sympathy was it? Indeed it was the Lord of the Earth who always visited her, when he was not looking after his realm, and who told her, most often crying, about the stories of many of the people whose souls he had passed to the Lady of Death to take away.
And then the Lady of Death would come and complain to her sometimes complaining about how the Waverers (souls that were not ready to move on and hung about life until a medium or an exorcist finally got rid of them) were the worst. It was the Lady of Death who haunted those that haunted others and gave them just one other reason to move on.
But Aeon had always stayed in her throne room in her realm not really going anywhere, not really coming into contact with any humans. Just souls. If she was only in contact with souls, souls that by the time they had come to her were like unborn foetuses, then, how would she know the pain that humans felt in parting?
This had been Lord Earth’s reasoning. Even Lady Death’s. But for Aeon, she hadn’t come here on their suggestion. Their reasons had been well placed, but she hadn’t come here for them. She had come for her own selfish reasons leaving behind the throne, knowing that Hour Glass would be fine for the short time she was on Earth. Both Earth and Death had been charged temporarily to turn the time.
John stayed beside his precious Lily. Aeon watched by his side day and night for three nights. Aeon learnt that Lily, despite looking well, had actually still been very sick. The day Aeon had met John, she had been having one of her better days, who would have thought it would only last briefly?
Although John was primarily watching over Lily, he also had shifts with her parents and siblings. But mostly, even though he was just a “boyfriend”, he stayed by her side most of the time.
It was during one of his breathers that Aeon spoke to him again for the first time in a long time.
“What is it that you love about that girl?” She asked him. He had taken out a cigarette and started smoking. “Why are you smoking?”
“Lily is brave.” He puffed out smoke. “Because…I want to smoke.” He coughed.
Curiosity getting the better of her, she reached forward and plucked the cigarette out of his hand. He looked at her in surprise but he didn’t have to words to speak.
Ignoring him, Aeon put the cigarette to her lips and inhaled. It was though her body had done this before. Many, many years ago she had inhaled tobacco and she revelled in what her body now could not handle.
She coughed and coughed until all the smoke was expelled from her lungs. “This is foul. I cannot understand how you handle it. You do not seem like a person who smokes.”
“I don’t usually. Usually, I prefer not to,” he said slowly. His eyes were wide as he watched Aeon.
Aeon passed the cigarette back to John. He took it, still he was stunned. “But you still smoke.” She paused, thinking, then looked at him. “Only when Lily is in the hospital.”
“What are you implying?” He asked.
“It stresses you out that much?”
He shrugged. “What would you know? You’re just a ‘Time Lady’. Non-human.”
“SO you acknowledge my status, do you?” Even though Aeon had been out of touch with reality for so long, she still had an understanding. “Isn’t she the one you love the most?”
“She is,” he admitted. Then he looked at Aeon carefully. “Time Lady huh. You really must be.”
Aeon said nothing. It was indeed a little insulting to be mistaken for a soul or a Waverer. But she could hardly expect him to believe she was a god-like figure, such as though ancient Greek gods.
“Like I said before, what else can I be?”
He pursed his lips. “What can you do?”
“Huh?”
“I asked…what can you do?”
“This is the first time you’ve asked.”
“It’s the first time I’m willing to believe.”
Aeon stepped close to him, as she did, she began to glow. Her gold glow fell on him. “I read time, turn time, count time, endlessly. I take the souls to be reborn and I give them to the sands of time. This is my job.”
He didn’t look at her when he asked. But Aeon was not a fool. She knew what he wanted to ask before he asked her. But yet she still waited for him to ask. She couldn’t refuse if there was nothing to refuse. No matter how much it would hurt.
Finally he looked at her, and said, “Can you save my Lily?”
His name was John. And John liked a girl. The reason why he had caught the Lady of Time being suspicious and poking her nose in places where her slender nose did not belong, was because the girl he liked had ditched him. He was incredibly frustrated that she’d done that so he thought if he could get someone into trouble he just might be able to make himself feel a bit better about himself.
Aeon though, was completely not what he had expected. Ghosts he understood. The so-called “Time Lady”, he did not get. What the hell did “The Lady of Time” mean anyway?
John looked to his side where the evidently invisible to anyone but him girl was walking. She dodged passerbys even though they would eventually walk through her.
As though the girl, “Aeon” knew what he was thinking, she said, “I’m dodging them for my own sake. Even if they can’t feel a damn thing, I can.”
To demonstrate, she dropped the gown that she had been holding up. He only watched half-heartedly as the weight of the gown seemed to pull her who posture downward a little. With a heavy sigh, she picked up the front of her gown.
“Why do you wear such a troublesome gown if it’s that heavy?” He asked her.
“Because in the Time Realm, nothing feels like it does on Earth.” She picked up her pace a little to stride with him. Even though she was slender and reasonably average heighted – though if she hadn’t been standing next to him, she would have looked much taller – her footsteps were small. She was obviously not used to walking quickly. If anything, she was used to taking her time.
Aeon was beginning to feel irritated. For someone who had stayed in the Realm of Time for so long, she hadn’t thought that she would ever feel irritated. But at that moment, she did. She felt extremely irritated.
At her dress firstly, but then at her human guide.
John was walking and going his own way. He only stopped every so often to ask if she was fine. That or he snorted at her. But mostly, he treated her like a ghost. No, he treated her exactly like a ghost.
No matter where he walked, no matter what he did, from that first moment Aeon had met John, John did the things he usually did. She watched him go have lunch with other people. She watched him be jolly and lively. She watched him go to work. She watched him go home.
Not once did John tell her to go away. Not once did she speak, so at one point – the classic bathroom moment where Aeon had followed him in – it took John another moment to realise that Aeon was there. He freaked of course and kicked her out.
She had waited outside like a good girl, and when he came out, it had been with a clear mind. And a mind that had remembered that he was not alone.
“Why are you following me?” He said.
“Why not? I have nothing else to do.” Again she tipped her head to the side. “Does this bother you?”
He sighed then turned to face her fully. “Yes. No. Normally I just ignore ghosts. If I don’t give them attention, they’ll just go and bother some other person.”
“And yet you stopped me from snooping through some other person’s things.”
“Because it was obviously wrong. And I thought you were real. I thought you were going to steal her stuff.”
Strangely this man, who was very much a man, perhaps in his twenties, was childishly naïve. Even Aeon was sure that no one at this stage of life could make such a mistake.
“What about me didn’t give it away?” Aeon gestured to her clothes with a sarcastic flourish.
John blinked. He hadn’t noticed. It was probably because he had already presumed she was a ghost. He paused. No, in thinking, this logic made no sense. Initially he thought she was a ghost, snooping through someone else’s property. So after, he’d also mostly ignored her because ghosts are ghosts. Most of them couldn’t affect the human world unless they had a tonne of anger or varying emotion in them.
But Aeon. This girl didn’t have any anger or emotion in her, except well, curiosity and boredom. And her face, despite the gold makeup around her eyes and over her lips, said it all. It was really hard for John to deny the fact that she could possibly be the “Time Lady”, probably most likely because he had no idea what Time Ladies were like.
She was also pretty for a woman who was possibly over a thousand years old. So he had avoided looking at her as much as possible. And in all the time that he had used to avoid and forget that she was following him, he realised, if she was not an ordinary ghost. Then what did she want? If she was a ghost, then what did she want?
Was she or wasn’t she a ghost? Ghost was the most logical definition for John, because in truth John could see ghosts. But she claimed to be the Lady of Time. So what did that mean?
Just as John was about to confront all the questions he had about the Time Lady and what her job was, his phone rang.
He picked it up. Yeah, there was one other reason why he had forgotten a girl – or was that woman? – as pretty as the Time Lady so quickly. He did have a life and people important to him before her after all.
“Hello,” he said, his heart suddenly beating with anticipation. “What happened?”
“John, Lily’s in the hospital again.”
Aeon looked around her. It had been a long time since she had stepped into the world of humans and walked among them.
There were still lights on the trees decorating the main walk. Signs of Christmas was fading, and the noise of boxing day a roar gaining momentum.
“How pretty,” she said lifting her hand up to the sky. She raised her face to the sky and let the snow land one drop at a time.
It was cold.
Aeon had never felt real snow. If she had, it must have been a long time ago. So long, she could hardly remember what it had felt like. In her realm there was never a change in temperature. If it snowed, it never felt like anything. If it rained, it never felt wet. If it was hot, she never sweated. The temperature never changed.
And she had watched it all from her golden throne. She’d sat there, either properly or recklessly, but always, always, dressed in the same draping golden dress that she had always worn, the dress that she was wearing now. And that which, in her realm, had felt almost weightless, now felt extremely heavy. The pieces and strands of gold that had been entwined in her hair had also gained weight since she had arrived here.
She figured, she should probably grab a jacket to wear. Then again it wasn’t as though anyone could see her. And she did like her dress even though she’d worn it for many years, it was the first of a thousand gold dresses that she loved the best.
When Aeon had arrived she hadn’t really made any plans. She just wanted to be away from her throne. For as long as she could remember she had only ever watched Christmas and New Years in her realm. She had watched through the sand and watched as the time slipped away from her.
It had always seemed fun. Even though she had never hated her own job. Even though she never aged. Aeon had wanted to experience what these humans experienced at least once.
And for that reason, she had planned to desert her station for exactly seven days. Well, just under seven days. At the stroke of midnight on New Year’s Eve, she would go back and she will bring the world from the old year to the new.
Aeon walked shopping boulevard – in her head it was called shopping boulevard because there were so many shops from high to low class and then high again, or vice versa. Since she had no money, she could only window shop. Then again, she was also invisible to everyone, so it didn’t matter if she wanted to buy something to wear or just indulge herself, she couldn’t do it. Aeon was the Lady of Time. Unless all three of the legendaries stood within each other’s presence, no one would she was there. Well…there was one other possibility, but on further thought, Aeon dismissed it, because it was really too impossible.
As she walked along the boulevard her eyes eying everything in sight, she found herself excessively fatigued. For once she was beginning to understand the extremities that humans went to for just a little bit of luxury – or maybe that was a lot, she thought considering the girl next to her. The girl was clearly laden down with bags after bags.
Most of the bags were of A-class materials, and every single one was a branded item. Curious, Aeon figured she might as well have a peek to see what kind of clothes had caught this little fashionista’s eye.
As she pulled apart bag after bag with her slender easy to slip in anywhere fingers, a voice behind her startled her.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
The girl whose things Aeon was looking through looked startled and without hesitation sent a glare through Aeon to the man who had spoken. She indignantly spoke back to him and dared him to accuse her of evidently doing nothing once more. The man had a mind to hold his tongue, because it dawned on him shortly after the girl spoke that that girl could not see Aeon at all.
While he attempted to cool over the situation, Aeon starred at him. It was her brazen, bored stare, the kind of stare that she had always used when new souls passed through her realm to move on to the next stage.
He was tall, well in comparison to the tall and slender figure of her legendariness, he was surprisingly tall. Then again, he was a man. Too bad Aeon couldn’t make him shrink. He seemed to like his height too much. And she wondered if he ever saw the world from beneath everyone else. How dare he’d caught her out. Much less even saw her!
When he finally got rid of the girl, he turned to Aeon and said, “Who are you?”
Smiling faintly, Aeon looked at the young, embarrassed and yet hardly frightened man and said, “Why, love, I am the Lady of Time.”
“The Lady of Time?” He enunciated slowly, and sharply he said, “You don’t expect me to believe that do you?”
“Do you have another explanation for why you can see me?” She said, one hand unconsciously reaching down to lift a little of the weight of her dress.
“A ghost. You are the ghost of Christmas past come to haunt me in reflection of the Christmas spirit, right?”
He smirked. Aeon though, had no idea what he was referring to particularly since she did not think like a human. Much less know anything related to human analogies.
She blinked. “Is that supposed to be funny? Because I can assure you I am not a ghost.”
He just stared at her. Had he really assumed she was a ghost? Was that normal? “You’re not a ghost. You’re what?”
“The Lady of Time,” she said, tipping her head to the side innocently enough.
Words That Flow Like Water 