Blossom Blood
Time Magic Guardians Short Story
carlyle labuschagne
Blossom Blood
Copyright © 2018 Carlyle Labuschagne
Cover Design: FQDesign
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If you purchased this book from anyone other than Fire Quill Publishing or a licensed FQP reseller, you should be aware this book is stolen property.
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.
All graphics and text associated with Fire Quill Publishing.Fire Quill publishing edition November 2018
To those who live with regrets –
Believe that each failure, choice and interaction has lead you to the path you find yourself on today, tomorrow and still have to walk.
Our choices, the bad and the good, but especially the struggles give so much more meaning to where you eventually will end up.
~x~
Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time
~ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
About the Author
Also by carlyle labuschagne
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Prologue
England 2015
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“You were supposed to turn left an hour ago.” Her voice held no tone, it was just pure fact. Her long, tanned legs stretched out in front of her at an angle so that her feet rested on window and her toes could get the best of the breeze.
Dex glanced at his wife, feeling a little frustrated; mostly that he’d got them lost on the last day of their tour of the English countryside. He loved seeing her so happy and so free. He caught sight of his Son and Amanda in some kind of deep conversation in the back seat. They’d been hunting the perfect summer home a short distance away from Cambridge University where their son, Asher, had been accepted come next fall. All their hopes and dreams for their family were coming true.
The road took a sharp, bumpy curve and Dex cussed to himself again for not taking the last turn-off. The tree clusters started to thicken, threatening their sunny view. But as his wife stared back at him lovingly, the sun glimmering in her beautiful brown eyes, he couldn’t help but to smile back at her. She was always smiling. Elle had that kind of smile that could clear storms and part seas. His eyes looked ahead at the winding, jagged road before them and felt a little nervous at the impending sunset.
“I thought we’d take the scenic route,” he said with a shrug, trying to lighten the mood – or more accurately, his mood.
“Good thing I packed snacks then,” Elle said before biting down on a green stick of sour liquorice.
“I hope that is not your idea of snacks, mother,” Asher said jokingly, undoing his seatbelt and leaning through to the front of the car to grab a handful of multi-coloured liquorice sticks. He fell back into the seat, offering his girlfriend, Amanda, a choice of flavours. Playfully, he pulled back just as Amanda was about to make her choice and her solid stare met with a quirky smile. He loved that teasing smile of hers. He thought back to when they’d met at school. Amanda Crawford, the exchange student with the clipped English accent, which even made the girls crush on her. Amanda snatched the yellow stick of liquorice before he could pull away again, breaking him from his quiet recollections. It was mostly because of her that he had decided to study in England. Okay, perhaps it was all her. Amanda’s smile grew before she bit down on the stick.
“I don’t see you minding my snack choice at all, son.” Elle leaned back in her chair and offered Asher the packet to share between him and Amanda. Elle’s eyes met her son’s in the rear-view mirror with a wide smile, then she pulled her tongue out at him when he offered her a arched brow. Elle was happy for her son, even though he and Amanda were a bit young for something so serious, but she could not judge; she fell for Dex in her late teens and the rest was history. At eighteen, love was intense and fulfilling, somewhat ever-consuming. The best kind, and the most dangerous kind, Elle thought.
The last of the afternoon sun disappeared behind a canopy of trees as they drove down the unknown path, and up a slow incline. Dex studied the intersecting behind them in each mirror, deciding it was safest to stay the course they were on, even if it seemed to be ever winding. Turning the four by four around in the narrowed path could be hazardous to their insurance policy, and who knew how stable the road was beyond the thick, bush-hugging road.
“This is gorgeous.” Elle’s eyes wondered into the surrounding woods.
In the back seat, Asher took Amanda’s hand and squeezed, staring at her until their eyes met, and said. “Romantic, huh?”
Asher was in wanderlust as the radiant green woodland set the backdrop to Amanda’s beauty through the car window. He thought Amanda had never looked more beautiful as the sun stole through the trees for a moment, igniting her white hair around her heart-shaped face. It almost gave the impression she was unearthly. Nothing about her is ordinary, he reflected. Down to the leaf shaped birthmark behind her ear only he knew about. He took in her soft, wavy platinum hair (which Amanda swore was unbleached) right down to her rosy, lush lips that were irresistible to kiss. How could one girl make him so happy and his heart so full?
“You are such a dork, Mr Blossom.” Amanda bit down on her lip, her eyes taking in his gaze intently.
“You are staring,” she said softly, not hating it too much.
“You know you like it.” His eyebrows danced at his own amusement.
Amanda blushed and looked away. “Stop it,” she whispered, tucking her hair in behind her ear, where he caught a glimpse of a new wrist tattoo half hidden beneath the strap of her watch
“He reached over to grab her wrist. “You went without me?”
She shrugged. “You would have talked me out of it.”
Asher pushed the strap of her wrist watch further down so he could fully investigate the tattoo. “Yeah I would have.” He smiled. “A triangle?”
“It means something to me.”
He pulled a face.
“You remember the first time we met?”
“Of course I do.”
She gave him a sly smile. “Liar.”
“No.” he returned her shrewd smile.
“Stop before you embarrass yourself.”
“Our first year, you did a speech in our Semeiotics class about the triangle symbol, and how it had been ignored for far too long. How something so simple as three lines…”
“…held so much meaning, grace and power…” He finished for her. “Representing balance.” He smiled proudly.
“She bit down on her lip. “You were looking right at me, as if speaking to me.
He squeezed her hand, remembering that day so clearly now, how she’d smiled at him.
“I thought you were mocking me, thought my idea silly.”
“Boys know nothing.” She pulled her hand back.
The woods grew denser, daylight almost eclipsed by the intertwining trees. Everyone in the car fell silent. Elle held on to her husband’s leg an
d he gave a reassuring smile. She breathed in the fresh air through the open window. “It’s absolutely amazing out here.”
Dex in turn, gave a strangled smile, feeling unsure.
“Best detour ever.” Asher lay his head down on Amanda’s lap and stared up at her.
As Dex slowed the car, he switched on the headlights and moved to the edge of his seat.
“No signal,” he said, holding out his phone.
“We’ve not had any signal for a while now, my love. What made you think the woods would be any different?” Elle’s eyebrow arched in question.
Elle was trying to keep her cool, but she could feel Dex’s unease. He was always a worrier, but now his agitation was so tangible, it felt difficult to breathe. Over the years, couples like them, destined by their bloodlines, were extremely tuned in to each other. Some might call it entanglement of sorts. Elle leaned forward to adjust the volume of the radio, or perhaps find another song other than the sad, soppy love song playing at that moment. The radio lost signal as she turned it up and the car filled with white-noise.
“Well, that’s not creepy at all,” Amanda half-joked from the backseat.
Asher pulled on Amanda’s blonde hair teasingly. “Amanda is the superstitious type.”
Elle and Dex exchanged a look as the white noise intensified.
“Oh turn it off.” Asher sat up quickly, reaching between the two front seats to hit the mute button on the car radio.
“Buckle up,” Dex warned his son.
Asher kissed his dad on the cheek playfully. “Such a fusspot.” He looked to his mother. “It’s like you’re the dad and he is the chick.” He looked to his mom with his fingers pointed at his dad.
“I love you, son, but your father is right – for once.” She offered a sarcastic smile. “Sit back and buckle up.”
“Ha, never thought you’d hear those words did you, Ash?” Dex threw his head back in laughter.
An odd silence fell over the passengers, the dense woodland, with hanging strands of ivy, and trees covered in dark green moss was as wonderful as it was eerie. Whilst the car turned the corner slowly, the woodlands ended abruptly and they found themselves on the edge of a quarry cliff with the sun directly in front of them. The sunlight was so intense, it was almost unnatural. The stark contrast between dark forest and the sudden burning sun got the better of the cautious driver and blinded him. Dex’s one hand went up to cover his eyes as he stepped on the breaks with a little too much force.
“Dex!” Elle warned, dropping the liquorice and pulling on the steering wheel.
The sunlight exploded in their vision. Dex pumped the brakes one more time, causing the car to drift along the dirt road with a puff of dust and come to a drastic, loud thumping stop against a lonely tree stump.
“Everyone okay?” Dex shouted. He was short of breath and felt like his heart had jumped into his throat. He could hardly breathe though the panic and his ears filled with the rush of adrenaline.
Elle nodded, looking around to the kids in the backseat.
“Seatbelt,” she berated her son.
Asher grabbed Amanda’s hand. “You okay?”
“Yes,” she nodded. Holding her head in her hands. “Just bumped my head is all.”
“Are you bleeding?” Dex turned to look at Amanda.
Gingerly wiping her hair from her face, Asher inspected Amanda’s wound. “She’s fine,” he replied, pulling her chin to meet his kiss as he laid his lips fully on hers.
Their relief was fleeting. The car was slowly sliding sideways.
Dex took his wife’s hand, his blue-gray eyes wide and searching hers. “Elle.”
“We’re going off the edge,” Elle confirmed what Dex already knew.
Asher swallowed loudly before saying, “The tree you hit should keep us –” He never got to finish his sentence.
A horrible sound like the roar of a beast echoed through the woods. Everyone screamed as the tree came crashing down on top of the car. Glass exploded, slicing at skin. Asher reached for Amanda, but it all happened too quickly. Like leaves caught in the torrents of an overflowing river, there was no stopping it. There was only surrendering in hopes it eased the blow. The smell of burning accompanied the motion of the car sliding off the cliff; sand and rocks spilled into the car as it tipped over. Screams, coughs, and the noise of bones and metal breaking. Elle’s dark hair met with Amanda’s white hair - the mesh of lives. There was silence as the world toppled over. Then the sun eclipsed and the car dropped a few feet before it landed on its roof. Hands extended as if to keep the roof from caving in and the car filled with the slow, horrific noise of metal and grinding glass as it toppled over, then toppled over again, this time faster, and with so much force, Asher was flung from the car. His hand slipped from Amanda’s, leaving her silver ring clutched in his palm.
One
It was nearly three years to the month that Asher had last stepped foot on Riverbend Lane. At first glance, it seemed nothing had changed. He requested his driver to pull the taxi up to the curb and insisted on walking the rest of the way. As the car pulled off, he slung his bag over his shoulder and hauled his luggage behind him onto the sidewalk. The sun shimmered through the rustling, green oak leaves while Asher took in the tang of freshly cut grass. Oh, how he missed his hometown; his country that gifted him sun and light, and humid air.
It was nearly midday on a Friday afternoon. The neighbourhood was quiet as most people were going about their daily grind of school and work. A lawnmower growled nearby, and he thought what a perfect day it was to return home. But the feeling was evanescent as the russet post-box stood at an angle of lot number 215. The guilt of his long absence immediately returned when he took in the state of his childhood home. In a way when he looked at the delimitated fence and weeds growing from the stone walkway, it felt like he’d abandoned the memory of his parents too, or in some way, disappointed them. That even though he hadn’t been home, it was somehow still his fault the house looked like one of those houses the American Pickers visit during one of the television episodes.
At first, he hardly recognised the property. Although it had only been three years, a lot had changed not only to his house, but to the houses around the neighbourhood. Asher had to look around to find something that looked familiar, that he could tie to one of his family members. Searching some of the houses had newly built walls around them, others had modern upgrades, but he recognised the ever-growing rose garden of Mrs Downs, two houses down. The yellow 1972 Ford Mustang parked next door, still impeccably kept, was a good indication he was at the right place. He walked the uneven stone pathway, glaring at the overgrown shrubs, which overhung the windows and plugged up the gutters. The wheels of his suitcase bumped along the jutted stones as he neared the water fountain that now seemed to be functioning as a toy-box for his younger siblings’ disregarded trinkets and figurines. Insects, toads and butterflies all gathered around in the shade of the once well-kept Koi-pond. The steps were littered with leaves and cigarette butts.
A dull thump echoed around the porch as he dropped his bags beside the empty plant pots. Shrugging off his long sleeve shirt, he tied it around his waist, then grabbed the door frame with both hands and felt along the dusty edges for the key, but instead found what appeared to be a blunt. He sniffed it to confirm it was indeed weed. Frowning, he placed it in his jean pocket and continued to search the rim of the doorframe. Arms raised high, he got a good whiff of his musty armpits.
“Oh, that is nasty,” he mumbled to himself as a voice came from behind him.
“Hey.”
Still holding onto the frame, his head half spun around to witness a girl standing behind him.
“Oh,” he released his arms and pulled down his t-shirt that had crept up his torso, silently cursing himself for not going clothes shopping since he’d started university. He must have looked like he belonged right at home with all the old and dusty things of his neglected home. God knows, after three whole days stuck at the air
port he must have surely smelt like it.
He looked behind her, eyes widening in surprise as to where she might have come from. “I didn’t hear you approach.” He took in her high heels.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“You didn’t.” He crossed his arms over his chest to hide his sweat stains.
“Brooke asked me to look out for you.” She leaned forward and extended her hand. “We don’t keep the keys out here anymore.”
His eyes narrowed on hers and he climbed down the two steps to take the key from her, flashing her a sombre smile.
“Thanks,” he said. “My sister never mentioned you,” he said, frowning.
“Milla,” she introduced herself. They shook hands, hers tiny and soft in his calloused palms. Long hours working on his parents car trying to decipher the cause of the accident, and finding where the burning smell might have come from that day, left his hands looking like that of an ordinary mechanic. His eyes travelled over the lengthy scar running down her wrist and his frown deepened when he noticed her tongue piercing. “I’m from across the road,” she prompted, her eyes shifting to her house.
He continued to stare at her and she bit down on her lip, her eyes shifting uncomfortably under his gaze. With her light hair and skin, and the way she bit down on her lip, she reminded him of Amanda. Could this be the reason his family kept her identify secret from him?
“Okay?” he spun the key around his fingers anxiously, his eyes still hard on hers.
“Milla Miller.” Her eyebrow arched. “I babysit the twins when Brook takes a double shift, her hands went up as she said, “mostly on weekends.”
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