Rise of Xavia

by Tara Chau

  "Alright," Gabe says, taking in all this information, "Gather the team and meet out back in ten minutes. Be ready for a fight. I'm leading this one, no arguments. Stealth is what we need for this mission. I have an idea where we should start. Let's do this." Anne nods confidently and rushes off. "Di, call your dad and tell him your safe at Anne's. We can't have him out looking for you." I nod and dial my dad while we both rush to Gabe's room.

  "Dad!" I say, relieved.

  “Dianna. Where are you? Are you okay?” I can hear how worried he is as I explain that I’m safe at Anne’s.

  “Okay, don't go anywhere. Once this is all over, I'll come to pick you up. I need you to call me every few hours, just so I know that you're okay,” he requests.

  “Alright. Hey, Dad, I've got to go." We approach Gabe's room, and he motions for me to hurry up. “I’ll call you in a few. I love you, Dad." Pressing the hang-up button, I shove the phone into my pocket.

  “Here.” Gabe shoves a grey shirt over mine.

  “Hey, I can do it myself,” I say, pulling the shirt down smoothly. "Go get the weapons. I put them in that corner." I point over to the weapons just as Gabe spots them. He tosses my staff to me, and I use my hair tie to adjust it to my skirt. Shit, I can't fight in a skirt.

  “Gabe. I’m not exactly wearing proper fighting clothes,” I say, pointing to my skirt.

  “Oh god, um.” Gabe looks at me, surveying the likeliness of me fighting in a skirt.

  He walks over to the bed and yanks a black hoody off the beam. Striding over to me, he bends down and wraps it around my waist. I draw in a breath. Why do I always panic when he's trying to do something nice for me?

  “There,” he says with a satisfied smile.

  "Thanks," I say, trying to give him my most appreciative grin.

  I grab the sleeve of the jumper and knot it around a few times, turning it into a handy holster for my staff. Removing my hair tie, I slip the staff through the loop. Gabe smiles fondly at me before we both dash out of the room, headed for the van. We rush out into the early morning and spot the others chatting urgently by the open van.

  “Hey,” I say as we approach.

  They all turn towards us, Jessica walking forwards and handing Gabe a navy-blue coat. It’s like Vain’s, I realise, except it only goes up to his waist. Gabe puts it on. It's tight but looks flexible and strong, stiff, made from leather, I'm guessing. It's awesome. I notice that everyone else is wearing one too. Only the girl's coats reach the ground. They flap slightly in the cool breeze. Anne's is a lovely peacock green, Ty's black, Jessica's a camouflage green, Hayden’s a dark tan brown. Woah, I feel out of place. Anne smiles at me and winks.

  “No worries, I promise that when we get back, I’ll help you pick out the perfect coat. The materials super tough, real hard to slice through, so we should get you one stat.”

  I simply nod my thanks and turn my head to Gabe.

  “Alright,” he starts, “listen up. We’re going to go scout out who took the book and report back. Now I have a feeling that it’s the Xavia, but if any of you have any different ideas, then I’m open to those too.”

  When no hands are raised, he continues talking. “We’ll start back at the movie theatre. Maybe they left something behind that we can track. Let’s go.”

  We all get into the van, our normal seating, of course.

  "Thanks for letting me tag along. I know that you don't want me to, but I'm glad that you're not fighting me on it,” I say once the vans on the main street and everyone else is talking.

  "Yeah, it's a lot harder than you'd think. Usually, arguing is in our daily routine. It’s gonna need some getting used to,” he says with a crooked grin. I laugh softly and punch his shoulder.

  “You think we can find them?” I ask.

  “Well, you gotta have faith, don’t you?”

  The van comes to a stop in front of the cinema. We tumble out hastily, waiting for instructions from Gabe.

  “Ty and Jess will go search the projection booth while Anne and Hayden search the halls and desks. Dianna and I will search the room that we originally found the Xavia members in. Gather anything that we can use to track them with. Alright, go, be safe, everyone."

  We all dispatch and walk into the theatre. I tiptoe quietly behind Gabe until we reach the room. Gabe walks in first, and I follow. It's surprisingly neat. Stacks of paper are piled up on the desk and a coffee mug branded with 'World's Best Daddy' holds all the pens. Bookshelves are stuffed in the corner, and a coffee table with a small, tattered couch stands to the side.

  “What are we looking for?” I ask.

  “Anything that could have possibly belonged to a member of the Xavia. We can use a signum to track the owner. That should hopefully lead us to their new hideaway,” he explains as he walks over to search the drawers in the desk.

  I slowly make my way over to the bookshelf and search through each book, looking for a name written inside the cover or something. Once I have skim-studied each book, I go over to the coffee table. Magazines are stacked neatly to the side. I sit on the couch and squeal quietly as I sink right through, the couch collapses under me, and I coughed as dust flies everywhere. I hear Gabe laughing as he comes and offers me a hand.

  “Stop that,” I whine. “It’s not funny.”

  “It is from where I’m standing,” he says with a grin.

  I swat away his hand and use my arms to hoist myself up from the broken couch and away from the cloud of dust.

  “Sometimes it really annoys me how independent you are,” he says, rolling his eyes.

  “I don’t need a guy’s help all the time,” I say, just to push his buttons even more.

  "Right," he says, turning back to the drawers. "Go check what's inside that cupboard,” he says, pointing towards the door to my right.

  “I don’t need to listen to you,” I say.

  Gabe looks over his shoulder at me and glares.

  “But I will because I have nowhere else to look,” I say with an innocent smile.

  Gabe scoffs and goes back to work as I make my way over to the door. Yanking it open, I freeze. Damn it.

  Inside the cupboard are mass amounts of dynamite. Set to go off in two minutes.

  “Shit, shit, shit, shit. Gabe!” I call.

  He’s by my side within nanoseconds, gapping at the wall of explosives.

  “I must have set it off by opening the door. We need to run. Gabe.”

  Pulling at his arm, I make to dash out the door. I look back I see him fumbling for something on the desk. He runs up beside me and yanks out his phone. I can hear him barking orders to the others, telling them to get out and meet us out front in thirty seconds.

  We both dash out the door just a few hundred metres behind Anne and Hayden; Ty and Jess are already at the van.

  The loudest sound explodes from behind us, Gabe tackles me to the ground, and I hit my chin against the hard cement, wincing. Huge pieces of wall and brick fly past us. Gabe’s arm wraps firmly around my waist, keeping me low against the ground. I raise my arms up, holding my hands to my ears in an attempt to block out some noise. The earth shakes as flying debris hits the ground. A brick lands just beside my thigh, taking at least two layers of skin off. I cry out and shut my eyes tight, clenching my teeth together, so I don't have the further urge to scream continuously. My ears are ringing; all I can hear is a high pitch whining, and everything else is white noise. My eyes are watering from all the dust and smoke. I can feel the heat of the fire flaring from the destroyed building. Something extremely hot flies past my shoulder. I shudder; god, that was way too close.

  Even as everything stops and the dust settles, I stay frozen on the ground. Even when Gabe loosens his grip on me and sits up, I stay frozen. Even when I hear the muffled sounds of voices, I stay frozen. A strong hand takes hold of my shoulder. I flinch, my body starts to quiver. I don't want to get up. But I know that I'll have to at some point.

  "Come on, Di
, get up." I feel a shaky hand take hold of both my arms and yank me onto a sitting position.

  “Open your eyes,” Ty orders.

  I slowly open my eyes, wincing from the blazing light of the inferno building.

  “Is-is anyone hurt?” I ask.

  I look over at Gabe, who is sitting dazed on his heels. He catches my eye, his eyes widen, but he still smiles. I can hear someone talking, but it’s drowned out by the high-pitched whine.

  “I’m sorry?” I say, “I can’t hear you.”

  Gabe looks at me worriedly, and I glance around at the others. Only a few of them have cuts; the others just looked shocked. It's Anne's expression that gets me worried the most.

  “What?” I ask obliviously.

  Anne shakes her head, looking at the rest of them. The others just turn around and walk away. Anne has an unspoken conversation with Gabe then hurries off as well.

  “What?” I repeat.

  “Okay, um,” he says unsurely, shouting for my benefit. “Don’t freak out, but….”

  “Just spit it out already,” I say with a huff, swallowing in an attempt to unblock my ears.

  “Your hair’s… on fire.”

  My eyes widen, and I jump up, panicked. Looking down at my waist-long hair, I shout. It's glowing red, and the ends are curling, not exactly on fire, but now that he points it out, I can smell it burning.

  “Gabe. Oh gods, do something!” I squeal desperately.

  “I-I…” Gabe begins to laugh uncontrollably.

  “It’s not funny. Pass me a water bottle or something!”

  “Alright, alright, be right back.” He gets up slowly and stumbles over to the van.

  “Hurry up!” I yell.

  “Okay,” he says, moving to jog over to the van.

  I try patting at my hair, making sparks fly. God no. I've had long hair for ages. My mum would always cut my hair, and I haven't cut it since. I scream loudly as something cold is thrown over my head. I look to my left to see Gabe laughing like a crazy person. I glare at him as water drips down my shirt, making me shiver in the cold wind. If looks could kill, Gabe would be dying an agonizing and slow death.

  "I barely escaped an explosion, can hardly hear anything, my hair has been signed off. And to finish it off, you freaking soaked me in water!”

  “You’re welcome,” he says with an annoying smirk.

  I groan frustratedly and stalk back to the van, leaving the blazing mess of a building behind.

  * * *

  “Okay, we have two things to do this afternoon. Get you a coat, plus cut your hair,” Anne says matter-of-factly.

  “No,” I say, bunching up all my hair in my hands. “I’ll never cut my hair. I only ever let my mum cut my hair.”

  “Well, you can’t go out like that. It’s alright. I can give you an amazing hairstyle. It'll look like a new you,” Anne says supportively.

  Looking at myself in Anne's bathroom mirror, I don't know what to do. The fire singed at least three centimetres of my hair off. It looks so bad. I sigh, nodding my head reluctantly to let her know she can start.

  I close my eyes when she snips the first part off. A pain sharp and direct opens in my heart. The sensation of blades connecting with my hair echoes through my chest. I sink into the familiar pool of sadness as I remember all the times my mum would lecture and force me into a trim. I don't open my teary eyes until Anne taps me on the shoulder, telling me that she's done. I don't want to open my eyes; I can’t feel the weight of my own hair anymore. It feels like I’m bald. Oh shit, please tell me I’m not bold.

  “Just open your damn eyes,” she snaps.

  “I… don’t really want to,” I say.

  “Just do it,” she says impatiently.

  "Ah, fine." My eyes slowly open and gape at my new haircut.

  It's short, like really short. It feels so different compared to my waist-length hair. My hair is cut perfectly. It waves down to my shoulders with one shorter piece of hair going down to my jaw. I don't completely hate it; I rather like it. It looks so different, and it will take a bit of getting used to, but I don’t hate it.

  “Do you look good, or do you look good?” Anne says with a proud smile.

  “Ah, good?” I say, “You did a great job, Anne. I like it.”

  “That’s great, but now we have to go get you a coat.”

  I stand up, and both Anne and I walk out into the hall. We walk around corner after corner until we eventually turn into a small room. The room has dummies lining up on all sides of the walls. They all have beautiful coats of many different colours being displayed. I walk over to a gorgeous dark maroon coloured one. Pulling it off the dummy, I fit it over my black jeans and singlet, not bothering to untuck my hair from the collar.

  “Hey! You look smoking hot,” Anne says with a grin.

  “Ha, yeah, yeah,” I say, rolling my eyes.

  I hear someone cough by the entrance and look over. Gabe leans against the door frame, arms crossed, surveying me. Looking me up and down, he stops to look at my new haircut. I turn away, stripping the coat off to put it back on the dummy.

  “You should keep it; it looks good on you,” he says with a wink. Gabe pushes himself off the wall and walks back in the direction of his room.

  Anne tries to muffle a laugh when she sees my blushing face.

  “You got it bad, Di,” she says, laughing.

  “Yeah? Look who’s talking. How are you and Ty going?” I question.

  She looks at me stunned, then transfers her expression to the ultimate glare.

  “Sorry, sorry.” I put both my hands up, surrendering. “You really think I should pick this one?” I ask.

  “Yeah, you look good in purple,” she says, smiling.

  “Actually, it’s a dark purply pink,” I correct.

  “Whatever, the point is, you look great. Even Gabe said so.” She points out - to my embarrassment.

  “Yeah, okay. I do like the colour. How much does it cost?” I ask.

  “Oh, it’s free, along with the weapon that you choose.”

  “Cool, I already chose one. It’s really cool.”

  Pulling out my staff, I hand it to Anne. She presses the button, and the two blades extend out.

  “Awesome. A two-sided sword. I love the vines,” she says, giggling, while I pull the coat back on, marvelling at its perfect fit.

  Anne walks over to me and pulls the side of my coat away, showing me that there are several holsters and other pockets inside. She tucks my staff into a pocket that is just below my waist. When she lets go of my coat, I can feel the staff bump against my thigh.

  “You really are a Protector now. Come here, let me take that bandage off your arm.”

  Anne takes hold of my hand and peels off my bandage to reveal my golden signum. There’s no longer any peeling skin or dried blood. It’s clean and shining in the light of the Sanctuary’s white glow.

  “Darling, you are officially ready,” she says proudly. “Go on, go show Gabe your new look.” She beams before her face morphs into one of dangerous excitement. “Wait,” she calls.

  Anne grabs a hair-tie and plaits my hair loosely, leaving the shorter piece hanging. She takes a makeup brush from her own coat pocket and gives my eyes a smoky gloss, using eye shadow to make me look… different.

  “Alright. Go now. You look hot.” She grins.

  I smile broadly and walk down the hall to Gabe's room, unsure as to why Anne's words are having any effect. I knock on the closed door. Gabe opens it before I can decide whether I should run or not and stares at me.

  I smile uncomfortably, “Hi,” I say.

  “Umm,” Gabe continues to gape at me, unaware that he is still staring.

  “Gabe?” I ask.

  Gabe snaps back to life and looks past my head in embarrassment.

  “Do you like my new coat?” I ask nervously.

  Gabe nods but doesn’t look back at me.

  “Um,
do you think my new haircut is okay? It’s very different from my hair before.”

  “Yeah,” he says unconvincingly. “It is different, but I like it.”

  Gabe takes hold of the end of my plait and starts fiddling with it. He looks at me and freezes.

  “God, sorry,” he mumbles, letting go of my hair.

  “It’s okay. What were you doing? Did I disturb you?”

  “Oh, I was just about to use the pencil I got from the theatre to try tracking the Xavia. Hopefully, it will work. Want to watch?” he asks, standing aside so I can walk through the door.

  The only source of light is Gabe’s two lamps on either side of the bed. I spot his coat hanging on a chair. Making my way over to the desk, I sit in the chair. Gabe comes over and takes out his Sterling. He closes his eyes and pushes it firmly to the desk. The faint scent of smoke tinges my nose as I watch closely. As Gabe takes the Sterling off, I smile at the signum burned into the desk. Gabe produces a pencil from his pocket and places it on the signum. Holding his hand above the pencil, he chants.

  Track hominem velim invernire, sic ego potest apud tuam mentem eorum.

  Latin.

  Track the person who I wish to find, so I may find them in thine mind.

  Gabe focuses on something far off, something, or rather somewhere I can’t see. His eyes water in concentration as he grimaces. I watch intently as Gabe’s brows scrunch and his breathing becomes laboured. A sigh of relief floods my system as he smiles happily.

  “I found them. They have the book.”

  “Where are they?” I ask.

  "There in… Disney Land,” he says, confused.

  “What? Which Disney Land?” I say desperately.

  “Japan.” He clarifies. Gabe closes his hand and looks at me straight in the eye.

  “I’ve always wanted to go to Japan,” I say with an excited grin.