*
The morning went by slowly, but James managed to work it at his advantage, by going out and doing some research, leading him to being able to show up at Thomas’ house twice as prepared as he was earlier that morning.
Thomas’ room was big and impressive; three guitars, a microphone and a computer flaunted at the side of the room, with a bed and closet at the wall opposite them. Five beanbags were available inside the room; one for everyone. The teenagers placed them in a circle between the computer and the bed and sat down.
“So, what are we here for today?” Antonio started, sounding slightly sceptic.
“Lower that sarcasm, Antonio,” James said. “You might be sceptic now, but after seeing this, I bet you’ll think differently.” Without giving a further explanation, he handed Antonio the book, nudging him to take a look inside.
Antonio threw the seventeen-year-old redhead a sceptical look, but proceeded to take a quick peek inside the book anyway, probably due to his curiosity getting piqued.
“And... what am I supposed to look at?” Antonio said at first, before reaching a page filled with drawings; his mouth fell open and his eyes filled with unbelief. “You’ve got to be joking, Riverdale,” he said. His eyes shifted from the book to James, who was shaking his head.
“No, this is all real,” James said. “As strange as it sounds, it is.”
Bella bent over to Antonio, taking the book from him. “Can I see?” as she sat back in her beanbag with the book in her hands. It took her less than three seconds to realize what she was seeing and fall in surprise.
“Thomas,” she yelled at the boy seated across from her. “You’ve got to see this!” She tossed the book at Thomas, who skilfully caught it.
“Be careful with that!” James snapped at them. “You might rip out a page or something.”
“Oh come on, James!” Bella said. “I only threw it – what, half a metre? Or even less?”
But after seeing James’s pouty face, she snorted. “All right. I won’t throw it again, promise.”
Meanwhile, Thomas had discovered the drawings as well. “Bloody hell,” he gasped. “And these are real?” he asked James.
James nodded in response. “Yep,” he said. “They’re as real as you and me.”
“But- how is this possible?” Thomas said. His friends couldn’t do anything more than shake their heads and shrug.
“Well...” James suddenly said. “I did go back to the library to ask them about the book.” He paused to anticipate his friends’ reactions. “Carolyn was able to tell me that this book’s origins date back to the tenth century, and that it was originally a Latin poem. But somewhere in the eleventh century someone rewrote it in English. The Latin poem is about a legend, which resulted into the book being written.”
“Ah, so that’s what you went out to do,” Samira said. “What kind of legend?”
“The legend of Asura, the Demon of the Night,” James said slowly, to add a dramatic effect to the title. “Five children, corrupted and frightened by nightmares seemingly caused by this wretched spirit were taken from their beds – presumably taken into the Demon’s world, or simply murdered by the Demon. The five children were never seen again; that’s why someone wrote a poem about these children, portraying them as the heroes who had to save the world they were brought into from the Demon’s claws, who was known there as the Master of Nightmares. In the eleventh century the Demon returned; who wrote the poem into an English story is unknown, but it seems to be a family member of the disappeared – who, this time, were young-adult men and women. The Demon proceeded to return every century, on the same date as the last.”
“Seriously?” Antonio said. “And nobody’s ever seen this- Asura?” he said, a tone of unbelief lingering in his voice.
“This is what Carolyn told me,” James said. “How much of it is true – I don’t know. But even she couldn’t explain the changed images, so I doubt anyone can.”
“So you’re practically saying that we’re next?” Thomas said, mildly worried, his face looking a little pale.
“Not unless you’ve been having nightmares since you’ve read the book, no,” James said. He paused. “Oh God.”
He saw his friends look at him; all with the same, worried face, all giving the same, small nod.
“Mirrors?” James whispered, almost being too afraid to say it. More nodding.
“An evil version of you attacking you?” James continued quietly.
This time, his friends shook their heads, including Samira.
James lowered his eyebrows. “Really?” he said. “Maybe... what happened beyond the mirror was unique to all of us?”
“That’s a possibility,” Samira said. “I... for example, saw mom, Dad and me in the mirror, but you weren’t there. That worried me – and then I was suddenly wearing clothes similar to those in the drawings.”
Her friends stared at her silently for a few seconds.
“To be honest, I believe I didn’t see anything at all,” Bella said. “Or at least – I can’t really remember.” She then looked at Thomas and Antonio. “How about you two?”
Antonio shrugged; Thomas quickly followed. “I don’t know,” the Brit mumbled. “I... don’t really care, I guess.”
“Yeah,” Antonio agreed, “me neither.”
“So... I guess this conversation pretty much ends here, then,” James said, as he took back the book from Thomas. “I’ll... talk to you guys later. There is someone I need to talk to.” He stood up and waited for a few seconds, perhaps waiting for someone to stop him, but as he realised nobody was going to say anything other than “see you later,” he turned around and left the room.
Guardian: Protectors of Light Page 5