At least, until Eliza said the words and then he would go willingly to her. But she wouldn't, not for years, and he knew that. He loved Eliza because she understood that he was needed where he was, and she would never put that in jeopardy He would do his duty and she would do hers, and they would be happy apart until the day they could be happy together
Until that day, he had a Tiro to train.
Chapter 25
Desmond knew that the dungeons under the school were dark, but he didn't realize they were damp and cold as well. He had expected the Jurors to treat their prisoners with respect and with dignity, but he was surprised to learn that wasn't exactly the case.
It broke his heart to see Reynolds looking pale and thing, sitting on the cold floor of his cell.
“Desmond,” Reynolds said, with a smirk. He was defiant, even now. “Have you come to gloat? Your happiness is sickening.”
“I have not,” Desmond said, softly. “Although I have come to inform you of some news.”
“What? Has the Jurors elevated your defiant ass once again? You always did manage to get away with murder.”
“I am leaving the Order,” Desmond answered, and Reynolds fell silent. “I have left my Tiro, and I am leaving magic behind. Mariah and I pledged ourselves to each other.”
“What?” Reynolds couldn't believe what he was hearing. “Are you mad?”
Desmond had not expected that reaction.
“No? Maybe?”
“You can't just... arr,” Reynolds replied. “You just threw away your whole life.”
“No,” Desmond said. “I walked a path I thought was right for me, until I realized it was right no longer. You feel my happiness because I am now on the right path. There are other ways to be happy, Reynolds, besides magic. Besides darkness or light, the whisk of our hands. And I wanted you to know that.”
Reynolds fell silent, not expecting this kind of lecture.
“If there is a glimmer of hope in all of this, Reynolds, I hope that you find it.”
“Desmond, I walked away from you and from the Order. I used Acheronian magic, I killed hundreds, if not thousands. I was your first Tiro and I screwed everything up for you. And now you come and tell me about hope?”
“I do,” Desmond replied. “And when the Jurors lay down your verdict for the crimes you have committed, I will be there, beside you, supporting you as I should of done.”
Reynolds looked at Desmond in disbelief. His mouth gaped open several times before he spoke.
“And what of the girl?”
Desmond tried to smile.
“Sienna has found her own path as well, outside of magic. If you have diabolical plans, you should know that the drugs have wiped magic from her system. She knows death awaits her if she comes off of them. She is useless to your cause now.”
“And your brave Nathaniel? Has he surged forward?”
“Nathaniel has stayed with the Order,” Desmond said. “So you may hear his name from time to time. That is the path he believes is right for him, and I'm not going to stop him.”
“Of course he did,” Reynolds shook his head. “So much for different paths”
“We have each found our own,” Desmond answered. “And I know that you will as well.”
“Unless they execute me.”
“They won't,” Desmond assured him. “You are too powerful; too blessed by magic to lose such a force to the world. Try to find a way without it, a way to be happy, and you will find yourself free.”
“Not from prison bars,” Reynolds replied, sarcastically.
“No, maybe not,” Desmond answered. “But your mind will be at peace.”
The two stood in silence for a long moment, and then Reynolds spoke, softly.
“You weren't a bad Maestro, Desmond.”
Desmond was surprised by this.
“I---”
“You weren't. It was nothing that you did or said. You were a good Maestro and it was I that strayed. Don't blame yourself for it. I hope you do find happiness, with Mariah.”
Desmond decided to accept this, bowing his head.
“Thank you,” he said. “I will leave you now.”
“Could you....Could you stay?” Reynolds asked, sounding so much like the boy Desmond had trained. “Not for long, I mean... but just a while?”
Desmond smiled at this, taking a step closer.
“I could,” he said. “If you wish it.”
He settled down in a chair placed outside the cell. The two fell into a natural rhythm of conversation; as if the past few years had never happened. They spoke of their time on quests, of their moments at school, of the people they had known. Desmond felt himself go back twenty years, to a time when Reynolds filled him with hope and when nothing was too big of mountain for them to tackle.
The path ahead was clear for him, but he knew it was only because of the moments that were difficult that he could walk it. It had taken forty years to get the courage to walk away with Mariah, and it was because his courage had been tested so many times before. He didn't fear what was to come; for everything behind him had been fearful enough.
And despite having not taken Reynolds through to the tests, he felt he had succeeded with him. For despite the darkness, the past, his former Tiro still had strength within him, and still saw that he could live beyond all of this. He had taught him that; he had taught all of them that. Broken Christa, after the death of her Maestro, Nathaniel in the face of anxiety; Sienna in her daily struggles. And they had taught him patience; hope; they had taught him how to live.
There was a life beyond the magic, and he was eager to live it.
Epilogue
“Did you translate all of those?” Eliza asked in surprise Sienna had only been working for her 10 months, but it seemed that she learned a new language every week.
The former witch smiled as she handed her the tablet.
“I did,” she said. “Some of them may be a bit shaky, but they are fine for the purposes you use. If that's all my Queen....”
“It is all,” Eliza replied. “Baroness.”
Sienna blushed at the rank Eliza had given her.
“It's Devon's birthday,” she said. “So we'll be off for the evening?”
“Of course,” the Queen replied. “It will be a relaxing....”
Just as she was finishing her sentence, the doors to the palace flew open and Jonah burst in.
The captain of the guards was normally cool and collected, but at the moment, his eyes were wild.
“Your highness,” he said. “The rebel forces are marching on us.”
Eliza's eyes hardened.
“Then attack. I won their throne here on Natrine, they need to accept that. Teach them a lesson.”
“No,” Jonah said. “They've had help. There's three outer rim planets that have come to their aid.”
“What?” Eliza asked. “Who allowed this?”
“Your highness, they took us by surprise,” Jonah said. “But regardless of semantics, we are currently outnumbered. You need to call Jeffro's forces, but we will need more back up then that.”
“This is treason,” Eliza growled. Sienna, however, put a hand on her shoulder, calm.
“You took the throne,” she said. “The witches defend the thrones at all costs, as natural leaders must be protected.”
Eliza held her gaze.
“Will they send us aid?”
“Yes,” Sienna replied. “I believe they will.”
“Then call for it,” Eliza said. “Jonah, call the Jeffro forces. As many as we can spare.”
“My concern, your highness, is that if Jeffro is left half defenceless, they will storm on there as well.”
“No,” Eliza was defiant “We will defend both fronts. Call the witches now, Sienna. Ask for aid.”
“Aye,” Sienna nearly dropped the tablet and headed out of the large marble hall.
Devon was waiting just outside the door, expecting her to be finished work. Their life together on Natri
ne was much different from the rigid life the Order had demanded of them. Eliza was a kind mistress, expecting the work to be done when it was due and not much more. Sienna found herself happy, light and free. With her magic blocked, she was finally able to see what life was beyond the Order. With Devon's hand almost constantly in hers, she thought it was beautiful.
Today, though, her eyes were wide with panic.
“I need to call Nathaniel,” she said, as they ducked into a quiet corner. “We're under attack.”
“Mm,” Devon answered. “Somehow, I knew this day would come.”
“So did I,” she said. “We'll be flooded with witches in a few days. It's odd, this is the warrior excitement I always wanted. And now that it's here...”
“Now that it's here, you realize you are happy with your other path,” Devon answered. “Regardless, it will be nice to see our friends. I can call Laura, if you like.”
“Probably needed,” Sienna said, as she dialed through.
Nathaniel looked tired when he answered, his lighting dim. She could make out that he was at the school, in his room, and it was early morning. She hadn't thought about the time change.
“Maestro,” she said. “The day has come.”
“Oy,” Nathaniel replied, sitting up a bit more. “Do you need us to come now?”
“I do,” she said. “You and your Tiro. I'm going to put quest bids up, we'll need several teams.”
“We're ready,” Nathaniel replied. “Prada is stronger than any Tiro here. We will protect you.”
She remembered the days that he said that about her, and smiled.
“Thank you,” she said.
“Just stay safe,” he replied, and she sensed a grin in the darkness.
“Nathaniel...are you ...excited?”
“I am a warrior after all, little one,” he said, as his tablet jiggled with him getting up. “And you always wanted to see me in action.”
“I did,” she answered. “I'm going to put a few calls out. Let me know if there's anything else I can do.”
“Look at us,” he replied. “Working together on intergalactic quests. Did you ever think that would happen again?”
She smiled.
“I didn't,” she said, truthfully. “But we've found a way.”
“There's always a way,” Nathaniel said. “If you believe. I'll see you soon.”
“Bye,” she hung up, passing the tablet to Devon to call Laura. Despite the on coming danger, Devon grinned at her.
“Well, this is exciting,” he said, as he keyed in Laura's number.
“It is,” Sienna drew her knees up as she perched on the window seat. “And I'm ready for it.”
“We're together,” he said. “We're ready for anything. And with you here, we can call in teams in any language. You're magic.”
His choice of words made her smile.
“I didn't use to think I was,” she replied. “Not until you made me feel differently.”
“So, my love,” he said, as the call began to ring. “Are you ready for a new adventure?”
“I am,” she said, as Laura picked up. Like everything in life, it wasn't going to be easy. A year ago, she couldn't believe that she ever would have been happy with this reality. But today, with Devon by her side, and her skills sharp and making a different, she felt happy, and strong. It had taken walking away from her once dream, and from magic, to make her feel like she was indestructible
There was always another path, and she was so glad that she had found it.
***THE END***
The Plague (Alternate Dimensions 1) Preview
Chapter 1
“Thank you for calling Medelis Health Insurance. My name is Andi. May I have the spelling of your first and last name?”
“Hayden Pfluke.”
“Thank you. May I have the spelling of your first and last name?”
“Hayden Pfluke.”
I gritted my teeth and forced myself to use my most customer friendly voice. “May I have the spelling of your first and last name?”
“Oh! Yeah.” The consumer continued on actually answering the question, and I did my best not to slam my head onto my desk. My doctor had told me that I had enough skull trauma to last a lifetime, and since he had a degree and I didn’t, I was more inclined to believe his medical opinion.
Thankfully, the rest of the call went more smoothly. The consumer listened as I explained what their vision benefits were and what doctors were in their network. It wasn’t even a five on the calls-from-hell scale and when it was over, I logged out of my phone and headed out.
“Another day, another dollar,” one of my coworkers said as she passed me in the hall.
“Ah yes, dollars. I love selling hours of my life for monetary gain. It’s fantastic.”
She laughed and kept on, but I couldn’t help but sigh. I mean, I knew I was lucky to have a fairly cushy job where I earned twelve dollars an hour, but call center life wasn’t exactly fulfilling. I was eternally grateful that I was gainfully employed, but I couldn’t help but stare out the windows beside my drab, gray cubicle, wishing for something more.
There had to be something more, right?
That was a rhetorical question, of course. No one answered me. Not that I expected anyone to. I’d been through enough therapy as a kid to know not to talk to the voices. Granted, they had faded right around the time I had hit puberty.
I hopped into my car and headed home, making sure to order some fast food that I could wolf down in shame in my cramped room for rent. Once I was inside, I peeled my pants off and collapsed on my beanbag, stuffing my face with some greasy thing or another. Today was one of my only days during the week without classes, and I kind of just wanted to be lazy instead of productive. I knew I should have gone to work out, but I wasn’t really feeling it.
I wasn’t feeling much of anything lately, other than anxiety.
I had periods of insomnia every now and then, and when I finally could sleep, my dreams were plagued with violent and stressful images. Granted, when I woke up, I could only remember faint echoes of discomfort. It didn’t help when your only respite from the world turned into another exercise in awful, and I was beginning to feel it fray at the edges of my psyche.
The food did help, though. All that salt and lipids. I remember girls in high school, who had always looked at me in such horror when I horked down food that they would have been teased for consuming. Thankfully, no one wanted to mess with the chubby redhead who had once dunked a bully head first into a trash can.
At least that hadn’t changed. Sure, it would be nice if I had the model waist and poise that all the magazines touted, but that wasn’t in the cards for me. I was quite tall, just over six feet, with wild, red hair that looked like lightning had just struck me. And I was solid. Not ripped like your average superhero, but that kind of stocky, hardworking body that you saw on farm boys and amazons. I was known among my friends for being just bizarrely strong enough for party tricks, but not enough for any competitions where it mattered.
Thinking of my friends just made me feel more miserable. It seemed like food wasn’t going to cut it. Groaning, I forced myself up to grab a book from my messenger bag, then fell back into my squishy chair.
It was a sci-fi thriller, very action oriented, and I had been following the series for a while. I didn’t know why, but something about it always felt comforting to me. It wasn’t like there was a same cast or running plot to get attached to; they were all just standalones in a connected universe. They were short, too, only a couple hundred pages, so I could finish them in a few hours. Not that I had ever had time to read anymore.
The hours passed as I sank into the literary world between my fingers. This particular tale focused on a mooreerie that only had three arms going on to become a multi-world champion fighter. Or at least trying to. Like any good book, there were plenty of plot twists and pitfalls.
When I finally finished the book, it was dark, and I realized I was pretty exhausted. B
ut, there was a certain sense of satisfaction that I had reached the culmination of the fighter’s story. As much as I loved long series, it was sometimes nice to just get in and get out.
I stretched and flipped over the back of the book, which was formatted a bit differently from all the previous novels. This one had an ‘About the Author’ paragraph, and then a picture of her.
She was fairly different looking, with dark hair pulled back in a ponytail and a very high forehead. She had large eyes that were complemented by a generous smattering of freckles that dotted her almost like camouflage.
“Jenna Vellock,” I pondered to myself.
For someone so unique looking, there was something vaguely familiar about her face. Like someone I had known once but hadn’t seen in several years. I stared at it for several long moments, sifting through memory after memory, but came up empty.
Eventually, I shrugged and tossed the book back into my bag. Dragging my butt to the kitchen, I helped myself to a large glass of water, then went about the rest of my nighttime routine. When I finally laid down in bed, I let out a long sigh. Sure, I had my rest for now, but tomorrow was just another day of the same drudgery it always was.
*
A cloud–dark, malevolent, and churning–filled up a chrome hall. Its voice thundered and clawed at my ears.
I looked around in confusion. Where was I? When was I? Everything was impossibly shiny and futuristic-looking, illuminated by highly filtered light.
I was distracted by the voice of someone small next to me. Familiar. Vaguely amphibious.
Gee-Gee!
I reached toward her without question, pulling my childhood friend to my form. The strange force tried to pull her away, but I kept a hold on her. Something dangerous was happening here, and I didn’t want her to be any part of it.
And then, suddenly, we were running down hallways that were much too bright, sliding under a door that slid down from the ceiling like a guillotine.
The Discovery' (Alternate Dimensions Book 4) Page 65