Scales and Flames

by Catherine Banks

  The last few nights, I’ve had some very erotic dreams featuring the two of us. Always in some compromising situations that leave me hot and bothered when I wake. An unsatisfied ache pools low in my core; so low that I fear no one can ease it but him, a fantasy. I really have lost it. I realize that it could just be my imagination running away from me, but it has been too long since that itch has been scratched. I mean, six years too long, which happened in a moment of weakness after I buried my mother. It left a lot to be desired.

  I'm jerked from my thoughts by Lanie. “Ready to shoot some pool?”

  “I’m always game for pool. Maybe we should play girls against guys,” giving her a conspiratorial wink.

  “Hey, how is that fair? Two against one… but I wouldn't be opposed to those odds,”

  “Ha, you wish, Mark. You wish!”

  “So, you're saying it could be a possibility?” A grin takes over his handsome face.

  “No! Not going to happen buddy,” Lanie and I say at the same time.

  We walk over to the rack on the wall and select a couple of cue sticks that seem to be the most straight. Then, I chalk the tip with the blue chalk left on the edge of the table.

  “I’ll break since you are at an unfair advantage,” I say, while glancing up at him.

  “Please, go right ahead,” he responds with an outstretched hand.

  I saunter over to the corner of the table and place the cue ball a little behind the second diamond and make my shot. It's a clean break, but nothing goes in any of the pockets.

  Mark takes his turn and pockets a striped ball. I look over to find Lanie eyeballing his toned body as he walks around the table, figuring out his next shot. He glances up and catches her looking, and gives her a quick wink. She stares back at him but blushes again, not one to back down.

  “Like what you see, doll?”

  “Hmmm… maybe I do.”

  He smirks. “Maybe I do, too.” But he also glances over at me, leaning against my chair. He takes aim and misses.

  I know I have a deer-in-headlights look. So much for thinking that he had forgotten about me.

  Lanie gets up with a small scowl, walks over to the pool table, and sinks five solids without missing a beat, but scratches on the sixth. Walking over to her chair, she perches on it gingerly. We finish up the first round with a win for us girls. That's when Meredith and her boyfriend, Paul, join us. They apologize for being late, but by the smiles and glances at each other, we can guess what made them late.

  For the rest of the evening, there was lots of fun and laughter in our group. And plenty of flirting between Mark and Lanie. Of course, I kept my distance from him for the rest of the night. I also learned that Meredith is really involved in the homeless community, and is actually engaged to Paul, with a plan to get married next spring. After a couple more rounds of pool and darts, we head out, with plans to do this again soon.

  Back at Lanie’s house, we get settled on her couch in our pajamas, coffee in hand, and Sweet Home Alabama on the flat screen. I decide it’s time to tell her my secret. We end up on the topic of tonight and how she thinks it went with Mark. I know I’m procrastinating, but I’m nervous to see her reaction. There’s a lull in the conversation, so I decide to just go for it.

  “Lan, you know how I don’t usually sleep very well, and I do a lot of mediating?”

  “Yeah,” she replies, glancing between me and the movie.

  “Well, this is going to sound strange but since I turned fifteen, I have had weird dreams about...um…hmm…”

  “For goodness sakes, Nyla, just spit it out already.”

  “Witches, dragons, and other things. Every night. That’s weird, right? I mean, those things don’t exist! But I can’t get them out of my head or my dreams,” Like ripping a band aid off. I keep from making direct eye contact, afraid of what I might see reflected back.

  I have her undivided attention now, but I can’t bring myself to tell her that it feels like there’s a beast living inside of me. And she isn’t looking at me with pity or like I’m mental. Wait, what? Where is the crazy look? I should know better than to expect the expected with her by now, though.

  Silence. It almost kills me. “Think I’ve finally lost it? After all this time.”

  “What exactly do you mean by you ‘see’ these things?” she asks seriously.

  “Well, I’ve seen lots of different things over the years. I have seen men turn into dragons, vampires draining people, witches using magic. You know, creatures that don’t exist.” I shrug my shoulders and look away. I wonder if I should tell her, but then figure, what do I have to lose.

  “I’ve even seen you in my dreams, when we were younger. You were practicing magic, like you were a witch. Totally crazy, right?” I’m greeted with silence.

  Wonderful, I probably just lost my best friend.

  “Nyla.”

  And here comes the pity, crazy talk.

  “I don’t think what you’ve been having are dreams. I mean, they are, but they aren’t just dreams. If I’m correct, they’re visions.” I look at her like she has lost her ever-loving mind.

  “Don’t look at me like that! What did you see when you had a vision about me?”

  “Dream, not vision.”

  “Fine, dream then. What did you dream about me, then?”

  “Well, I saw you walk into the herb room at your mom’s house, probably when you were about eighteen. Candles lit up all around the room simultaneously, and you pulled an old book out of this fake backing in the china hutch where the herbs are stored.”

  “M’kay, keep going.” This gives me some motivation, since she seems to be believing me. So far, so good.

  “Once you located a page and gathered some herbs, you started mixing them in a pot on the stove, pouring the contents into a small bottle sitting on the counter, and put a lid on it. Then your mom came in and asked if you had finished the healing elixir for Mrs. Windsor. You nodded, said you followed the instructions, and handed the bottle to her. She smiled at you and left the kitchen.” When I look at her, she has an expression of awe on her face.

  “I'm pretty sure those aren't dreams, Nyla. They are visions. I think you're a seer. Which means that either your mom was one or the women on your father’s side were. Most seer lineage are from the women. I would need to do some research and talk to Mom, but I'm almost positive. I haven't heard of a seer existing since over a century ago; all supernaturals thought they had died out.”

  My eyes widen and throw my hands in the air. “What? No, you can't tell your mom. That is absurd. Who would believe that?”

  She just raises a perfectly-shaped blonde brow at me.

  “Wait, are you telling me that you are some sort of…witch?”

  With a slight nod of her head, my emotions take off. Betrayal, hurt, anger, and sadness grip me. I stare at her, my eyes never leaving her. I want her to see everything running through me, and feel what I'm feeling. She looks hurt, and I start to feel bad until I strengthen my resolve. “All this time and you never thought to tell me?” I practically whisper.

  “Come on, Ny. You can't seriously be upset with me over this. It's not something we’re allowed to share with normal people. Besides, you’re a seer, and you never mentioned it to me!”

  “That's completely different! I wasn't aware of whatever the hell I am. I thought I was a crazy person, dreaming about creatures that don't exist…” I pause. “Wait, are you saying that everything I have dreamt about is real?”

  All she does is nod her head. Then my mind is racing, and I start to hyperventilate. Lanie rushes over from her spot on the other end of the couch and pushes my head down between my knees, telling me to take deep breaths in and out. Trying to keep the black spots in my vision from taking over, I do as she instructs.

  After a few minutes, my heart rate and breathing begin to level back out, and I raise my head from my legs. I stare blankly at the wall directly in front of me; I almost can’t bear to look at her right now. I stand
up and gather my things from around her living room, and stuff them into my overnight bag. I need to leave; to clear my head and regroup with this new knowledge.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I’m going home.”

  “I don’t think you should be alone right now, Ny. That’s a lot of new information to take in and I can talk to you about it.” She sounds like my leaving is upsetting her.

  Well, too fucking bad. I’m upset.

  “Alone is exactly what I need; I can’t even look at you right now. I want some space, and I’m feeling claustrophobic here.” My voice trembles with anger and hurt.

  “But there are plenty of rooms in my house. I understand that you are upset at this moment, but please, Nyla, stay. Use one of the rooms on the other side of the house. I don’t like the thought of you driving in your state.”

  “My state wouldn’t be like this if my best friend of twenty years hadn’t lied to me for our entire friendship. I think that pretty much omits everything we have ever built. I just need space!”

  “Don’t say that Ny; you are my sister. Don’t let this one thing destroy that. I didn’t mean to not tell you, but you don’t have all the facts. I hope that once your head clears and you’re thinking straight, you’ll have some perspective.”

  At this point, I’m beyond responding. Things in hand, I head out the door, in my pajamas. But I don’t care; I need to get away.

  Four

  Storming through the front door to my house, the one that used to be my mother’s, I head to the basement door where I keep all of her personal items I didn’t get rid of. There must be some answers to this crazy mess. Now that I think back on some of my memories, and her cryptic advice, I know she knew. But why wouldn’t she tell me something of this magnitude? Anger penetrates through the hurt in my chest and dries the tears from my eyes that had started to fall while driving. How could she?

  I tear through her belongings hoping to find anything that would help me understand. I know she kept journals, but I couldn’t find them when she died. Not thinking clearly, I didn’t look any further for them at the time, but now…now, is a different story. Heading up to her old room, I couldn’t handle sleeping in afterwards, I look around at the familiar setting. I walk around, wondering where she could have hidden something, when I step on a loose floorboard under the edge of a rug. Hmmm...I don’t remember that being loose.

  Squatting down on my knees, I throw the rug back and push on the boards. It’s the third one from the corner of the rug; trying to pull it up using only my fingers doesn’t work. I find a hammer in a small tool kit and use the back to pry the board up enough to grab hold of it. There is a fairly large open space under the board, probably a one foot by two foot area, much bigger than I expected. Stacked neatly, with the spines facing up, are several of her journals. While picking them up, a letter flutters to the floor. My breath catches in my throat. It’s addressed to me, and in my mother’s handwriting. Should I read it now? What if it tears everything I’ve ever known apart? Who the hell am I kidding? My world is already in tatters.

  I remain staring at it, contemplating. You’d think it was going to attack me with the way I’m looking at it; but it might, destroying all the wonderful memories I carry with me. Five minutes pass...then ten...Finally, I decide to just go for it. I reach over with shaking hands and lift the thin cream envelope, pulling the single sheet of paper from within.

  My darling Nyla,

  If you’ve found this, then the day has come for you to learn about our ancestors and your destiny. A destiny that has been laid out for you since you were born. By now, I’m sure you are aware that your dreams are actually visions. Visions of a future few can see, because you are the last seer in existence. You see, many centuries ago a powerful warlock wanted one of our ancestors, Sophia, as his mate. But he was not her chosen and she denied him. He placed a powerful curse on her and all the women in the Sage lineage; that once they found true happiness, her life would be cut short.

  I believe I was allowed a longer life than most because I didn’t have my true love by my side. I want you to know that your father and I loved you very much and did what we thought was right in the face of the future. When he left us, it was for your safety and happiness. I’ve never loved another and hope that soon, you find the same strong, enduring love that we cherished.

  One of our ancestors saw a future where our curse was broken. The last of our line would end it all, but the cost was unclear. This is your destiny, Nyla. I’m sorry I’m not there to help you carry this heavy burden, but I know you will do wonderfully. I raised you to be strong in the face of the storm. Lanie will help to guide you where I cannot, and to learn the ways of our world. Do not be harsh to judge. I am glad that you found each other. Be each other’s strength. She will lead you to your destiny. Just remember the future isn’t always what it seems.

  All my love,

  Mom

  Tears stream down my face. I wipe them with the sleeve of my shirt, so they don’t fall on the paper. Picking up the first journal on the stack I start reading through most of my mother’s life. Her visions, her mother, meeting my father, having me, losing him, and the start of my visions. Most of her of life up until she died. She documented it all.

  I pour over everything, and sometime during those hours I moved onto the bed. When I finish reading them, around dawn, I’m exhausted, both physically and emotionally. I don’t know what to think. Reading a letter that tells me that my destiny has been mapped out for me, in a world I know nothing about, is quite daunting.

  Can I forgive my mom and Lanie for keeping something so significant from me? There are still too many questions running rampant through my mind, and I’m surprised that I find myself drifting off to sleep.

  Two weeks after the bombshell the confusion hasn’t even begun to be clear. All the research in the world wouldn’t help anyway. I tried. Everything I searched for on Google was about myths and legends; definitely not what I’m looking for. I haven’t spoken to Lanie either, but it’s not for lack of effort on her part. She has sent me a message or called every day; the only thing she hasn’t done is shown up at my work. But that’s probably a good thing because, we can’t discuss what we need to at a school.

  It’s time for me to extend an olive branch. Forgiving her is easy. She’s my best friend and I can’t stay mad at her. Besides, she was right. I don’t have all the facts, and it was wrong of me to judge based on very little knowledge into her - I mean, our - world. That’s going to take some getting used to.

  I’m on autopilot walking to my office, so I don’t see Mark until it’s too late.

  He is standing in front of me, and I plow into him. He puts a foot back to brace us upright, preventing both of us from tumbling to the floor in the middle of the hallway.

  That would have been embarrassing.

  Once we are stable, he holds onto me a little longer than I think is necessary before straightening up.

  “Whoa, Nyla. Are you okay?” he asks, looking down at me.

  “Oh, what? Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry just have a lot on my mind.” Shrugging my shoulder, I look around the hallway to see who saw our little near mishap.

  “My door is always open if you need a listening ear.”

  “Oh okay…thanks for the offer. Sorry for tackling you in the hallway.” I walk around him, a few steps from my office, and I hear him shuffle in my direction.

  “Listen, there was something I wanted to talk to you about. Do you have a few minutes?”

  “Sure, we can go into my office,” I reply, unlocking and opening the door, but he holds it open and motions for me to enter first. We walk in and he takes a seat on the couch along the back wall. I don’t have a huge space, but made the area as warm and inviting as possible.

  “So, I was wondering if you would be upset if I asked Lanie out. I know you two are close, and I didn’t want that to affect anything between us,” he says, looking me directly in the eyes.

  “Lanie
doesn’t need my permission, Mark. Why are you asking me?” I pause as his words fully sink in. “How would you dating Lanie affect us? There is nothing between us, except friendship.”

  His shoulders appear to slump slightly. Shit. Was he expecting a different answer? Just as the tension starts to coil in my stomach, he raises his eyes back to mine and I see relief. Thank goodness. I relax back into my seat.

  “No, that’s great. I was worried you might have thought differently after we hung out,” he replies with a devilish smile, and I resist the urge to roll my eyes. Could he get any more pretentious? How did I miss this about him in all the years we have worked together?

  With a tight smile, I state, “No, no worries about that.”

  “Okay, good. I’ll see you later, Nyla,” he throws over his shoulder, as he walks out of my office. Yeah, I don’t see Lanie being smitten with him for too long. But then, I'm not sure how well I know her anymore.

  Five

  The phone doesn’t even ring one full time before Lanie picks up.

  “Hey Nyla, I've been so worried about you. How’re you doing?”

  Her concern lightens my anxiousness.

  “Yeah, sorry...I needed time to get some things straightened out in my head.”

  “Oh yeah, how did that go for you?”

  “Great. I've straightened everything out, and have plans set in motion.”

  “Really?”

  “No, not really. Everything is still a damn mess, and I haven't a clue what to do!”