by Mazhar, S
Ella picked one off the plate. She brought it close to her face and sniffed it. She took a bite of the soft, gooey chocolate and coconut goodness. Rose held her breath as Ella looked genuinely surprised. Grey eyes met hers and Ella smiled.
“What do you know?” she said. “They are delicious.”
Rose’s breath came out in a rush and she grinned in relief. Mages began picking up the balls, biting into them, murmuring their approval. Rose was surprised when even Skyler took one. But there was one person who hadn’t tasted the dessert, and for a reason she didn’t understand, Rose found herself waiting for him.
Kyran took his time, finishing his meal and draining his glass before he even looked at the dessert. He reached forward and picked up a ball. That’s when he turned to look at her. Holding her gaze, he popped the whole thing into his mouth and chewed slowly. Rose watched him, waiting for his reaction. Kyran didn’t say anything, but he smiled, just a small lifting at the corners of his lips. He reached out and Rose thought he was going to take another ball, but instead, Kyran pulled the plate closer, effectively hogging the dessert. He picked up another ball and bit into it.
Ryan, sitting next to him, tried to reach for one, but Kyran pulled the plate out of reach.
“Hey!” Ryan cried. “Come on, dude – share.”
“No,” Kyran replied simply.
“Mother Mary!” Ryan called. “Kyran’s not sharing.”
“Cry-baby,” Zhi-Jiya teased.
“I am not,” Ryan objected.
They continued arguing while Kyran sat back and steadily worked his way through the dessert, leaving the plate empty and Rose grinning.
***
The sound of soft snores broke the silence of the darkened room. Sam and Rose had fallen asleep hours ago, but Aaron was still awake. He lay on his bed, hands clutched around the letter, which was now falling to pieces. Two nights had passed but Aaron still couldn’t figure out how to unlock the flesh memory.
He groaned in frustration, then quietened immediately when Sam grunted and turned over, the bed creaking under him. Aaron let out a long breath and closed his eyes, crushing the letter in his hands. He brought up a mental picture of the letter, grimacing at how tattered it had become. For a brief moment, he thought about what it must have looked like when his mum sat down to write it: clear, crisp paper with black ink dotting the words from his mum’s pen. The image floated to the forefront of his mind and Aaron held it there. He imagined one of his mum’s hands pressed against the paper as her other clutched a pen. As he imagined it, the image of the letter shimmered and in the bottom left-hand corner a little overlapping flap appeared. Aaron’s surprise almost made him lose the image. He held it tight, focusing all his energy into keeping the picture at the front of his mind. Carefully, Aaron tugged at the flap, as Kyran’s voice echoed from the back of his consciousness. ...focus. Find the flap and pull it open...”
Aaron pulled and a translucent cover fell away from the letter. Suddenly the letter was growing, getting bigger and bigger until it was all Aaron could see in his mind’s eye: a white paper with indistinguishable writing. A heartbeat later, the letter was gone, freeing his vision and Aaron found himself standing in a semi-dark room. It was lit only by a single lantern, which was floating above a small table. There upon on the threadbare sofa sat his mother.
Aaron’s breath choked in his chest. He stepped forward, staring at his mum, who was leaning over the table writing furiously.
“Mum?” Aaron called.
His mum didn’t react but continued to write, the pen scratching line after line.
“Mum?” Aaron called again before his rational thinking caught up with him. This was a memory. It had already happened. He wasn’t really there, so his mum couldn’t hear him.
Aaron watched as his mum completed the letter, feeling a strange pressure build in his heart at the sight of her. He hadn’t seen his mum in six weeks. Catching her in a memory like this made Aaron realise just how badly he missed her. Aaron admitted freely that his mum was often very strict with him. She demanded a lot from him – whether it was in the shape of homework or adherence to her rules – but she was still his mother. She loved him and Aaron knew that. He could sense the underlying care and concern in her overprotective measures, which made her absence all the harder to bear.
His mum sniffed loudly but continued to write, head bowed over the letter. Aaron came closer and sunk to his knees, sitting on the carpet so that he could see his mum’s face. His heart jolted at the sight of her tears, slowly trailing down her cheeks. She sniffed again and rubbed the back of her hand against one of her cheeks, drying it.
Aaron had seen his mum shout and scold. He had seen her trying to be funny and failing miserably. He had seen her smile on several occasions but he had never seen her cry. His mum wasn’t the type to cry – not at sad movies, those adverts with injured dogs, not even bad news. She always had a stiff upper lip and Aaron sort of respected her for that. He had joked once to Sam that his mum was really a cyborg, which was why she never showed much emotion, other than to discipline him, of course. But today, seeing her in tears – real human tears that showed her vulnerability – it broke Aaron’s heart. He felt his own eyes burn, seeing how red-rimmed her usually clear blue eyes were. She finally put down the pen, having finished the letter and brought both hands up to cradle her head. Her sobs broke the silence of the room and Aaron’s heart ached anew.
“Mum?” he called again, reaching out without thinking.
His hand passed through her and Aaron snapped it back.
“Kate.”
Aaron turned to peer in the darkness and found his dad at the door. Aaron stared at him; his heart missed a beat. Chris walked in and sat down next to Kate, gathering his wife into his arms. He held her, letting her cry against his chest as he gently rubbed her back and neck.
“You don’t have to do this,” he said softly. “Stay with him, Kate.”
She pulled away and sat up, shaking her head before wiping at her tear-stained cheeks.
“No,” she croaked. “I’m not leaving you to face Neriah alone. I’m coming with you. We both made the decision. We’ll both pay for it.”
Aaron felt like the bottom of his stomach had dropped out. There was no denying it now. They had left to find Neriah and they were expecting a penalty from him. Aaron’s fear for their safety spiked to new levels.
“Mike’s refusing to stay too,” Chris told her. “He wants to speak to Neriah.”
Kate nodded, wiping her cheeks dry. “What did Drake say?”
“The usual,” Chris replied, “but he’ll look out for Aaron until we get back.” He leant over and picked up the letter, silently reading it. He let out a sigh and slowly put it back onto the table. “Aaron’s going to be so mad at us,” he said, remorse thick in his voice.
Kate slowly nodded. “I know,” she replied, “but he’ll be safe here and that’s all that matters.”
Aaron blinked and his surroundings began to melt before his eyes, until all he could see was the dark ceiling of his room. Aaron lay on his back, his breathing fast and short, as if he had been running. Sam and Rose’s snores echoed in his ears, but somewhere in his mind he could still hear his mum’s soft sobs, threatening to break his resolve to stay strong.
***
Aaron didn’t tell Sam and Rose that he had managed to unlock the flesh memory. Truth was that he was disappointed with what little he had learned. There was nothing in the exchange between his parents that pointed to what had happened to drive them out years ago and how long it would take them to get back to Salvador. The only conformation he’d got was that his mum, dad and uncle had indeed gone to meet Neriah. It was his mum’s tone when she mentioned about paying for their decisions that worried Aaron so much that he could barely eat or sleep. There was no fear in her voice, just a defeated acceptance for whatever price they would have to pay.
After two days of quietly seething and trying to figure out a way to get his parents back to safety, Aaro
n realised what he had to do and who he was going to have to meet. He turned to look at Alan, as he and Ava set the table.
“Alan?”
“Yeah?” he replied, with his usual cheery grin.
“Which cottage belongs to Drake Logan?”
***
Aaron followed the track at the back of the orchard that led down to the single cottage sitting in the midst of tall trees with golden brown leaves. Aaron passed the fence and walked down the stone-slab path, which was lit to an orange hue with the setting sun. He knocked at the door and Drake answered almost immediately, wearing a look of surprise.
“Aaron?” He narrowed his eyes. “What happened? You okay?”
“Yeah,” Aaron replied. “I didn’t see you at the table today. Thought I’d come by.”
“Why?” Drake asked, looking confused.
“Does there have to be a reason?” Aaron asked.
Drake’s frown stayed but he moved aside, gesturing for Aaron to come in. The cottage seemed to have the same layout as the others: a narrow hallway, a living room with no kitchen and a small bathroom, with presumably three bedrooms and a bathroom upstairs. As Aaron walked over to the comfortable-looking sofa, he noted how much more homely Drake’s cottage seemed. There was nicer furniture, a thick carpet under his feet and actual curtains hiding his windows. What Aaron had in Kyran’s cottage were thin veils that barely kept the sunlight out.
Drake had a small fireplace, its mantel littered with framed pictures. On the wall above the fireplace were two swords crossing each other. Aaron wanted to go over and examine the pictures but he refrained, keeping himself tightly in place on the sofa. His gaze picked out pictures of a dark-haired woman with a beautiful smile and warm brown eyes. One framed picture was of two small boys, twins by the looks of it, holding up ice creams and grinning.
Drake sat down on the armchair next to him. They smiled at each other in awkward politeness but neither of them spoke. Minutes passed in silence before Aaron cleared his throat.
“Your place is nice.”
Drake nodded. “Thank you.”
They lapsed back into silence.
“Would you like something to drink?” Drake asked.
“No, thanks,” Aaron replied. “I’m good.”
Drake nodded and looked around, his finger slightly tapping against the armrests. “Was there something you wanted?” he finally came out and asked.
Aaron nodded and shifted in his seat, turning to face him. “Actually, yes,” he said. “I want to meet Neriah.”
Drake’s eyes widened and he blinked at Aaron in surprise. “I beg your pardon?”
“Neriah,” Aaron repeated. “I want to meet him.” He held Drake’s shocked stare as he continued. “I know that’s who my mum and dad have gone to meet.”
Drake let out a frustrated breath and shook his head. “Aaron–”
“I know you can take me to him,” Aaron interrupted. “There’s a reason my dad came here to speak to you before going to see Neriah. I need you to take me to him as well.”
“I don’t know where Neriah is,” Drake said. “No one knows where he is.”
“So how can my parents go to meet him then?” Aaron asked.
Drake took in steadying breath before raking a hand through his hair. “Aaron, you have to understand something.” He leant forward in his seat. “Neriah is single-handedly running this entire realm, keeping it and the human realm as protected as possible. His whereabouts are kept secret for security reasons. He doesn’t stay in any one place for long, so catching him is difficult, if not downright impossible.” He held up a hand to stop Aaron from speaking. “But believe me, if anyone can find Neriah, it’s your dad. Unfortunately, it’s of vital importance that your mum and dad make contact with Neriah.” He tilted his head to the side as Aaron’s face fell. “I’m sorry, really I am, but I can’t take you to Neriah. I don’t know where he is.”
Aaron nodded, his lips pressed into a line with disappointment. “Has my dad made contact with you?” he asked.
“No,” Drake answered.
“That doesn’t make sense,” Aaron said. “It’s been six weeks. They would’ve sent a letter, a message of some sort to say they were okay.”
“I don’t want to scare you, Aaron,” Drake said, “but the fact is they’re facing all sort of dangers trying to get to Neriah.” He quickly went on at Aaron’s outraged expression. “But it’s nothing your mum and dad can’t handle. Please trust me on that. It’s difficult to send out messages when trying to stay invisible.”
Aaron bit back his terror, trying with all his might to remain somewhat calm. “Can you get a message to them?” he asked.
Drake’s eyes softened. “I’m sorry, Aaron.”
Aaron nodded and looked away, hands balled into fists. “So I just have to wait?” Aaron asked. “Is that it?”
“Afraid so,” Drake replied sadly. He stared at Aaron for a moment before getting up. “I’ll get us something to drink.” He walked to the door, heading to the rooms upstairs.
Bitter disappointment sat heavily in the pit of Aaron’s stomach. He had come with iron intentions. He was going to find his parents. He wasn’t going to back down until Drake gave in and took him to meet Neriah. But now he realised Drake was just as helpless as he was.
Letting out an agitated breath, Aaron got to his feet. He couldn’t stay sitting, not when he had so much pent-up frustration. He walked over to the fireplace, distracting himself with the pictures on the mantel. He stared at each one, seeing the resemblance between the beautiful dark-haired woman and the twins. He didn’t see any pictures of Drake with them, but Aaron knew the pictures were of his wife and kids.
Everyone here has lost someone. If they hadn’t, they wouldn’t be in Salvador...
Skyler’s words came back to him and Aaron looked away from the smiling faces with a heavy heart. He glanced around the room. His gaze found the two sheathed swords, crossed against each other on the wall above the fireplace. Aaron moved closer, studying the hilt of the swords. He found Aric’s mark, etched into the steel. He reached out to trace the insignia, to feel the carving under his fingers. He didn’t know how it happened – he wasn’t even looking for anything – but the moment his fingers touched the cool steel, a memory opened before his eyes.
Gone was Drake’s living room, the fireplace and the swords he was currently standing in front of. Instead, Aaron was in a dark street, face to face with a big, hairy, drooling beast. Aaron gaped in horror as the fearsome dog-like creature growled, its grisly fur hanging from its emaciated frame. The beast raised its hackles and snarled at him. Its eyes were slitted, glowing red with black pupils, and staring right at him. Aaron stumbled backwards, his fear momentarily numbing him, making his legs fold under him but the dog had already pounced.
Someone stepped from behind Aaron, literally through him and faced the beast with a drawn sword. Aaron watched from the ground as a boy charged at the demonic dog. He struck out, throwing the beast back with a kick to its head. He lifted his sword and sliced it through the dog, as effortlessly as one would cut through butter with a hot knife. The dog howled and fell back but was up on its feet in an instant and charging towards him. A wave of the boy’s hand and the dog froze on the spot. Life drained from its mangled body as it turned to stone. With a barely audible pop, it burst in a cloud of dust.
Aaron was still on the ground, but he wasn’t gaping at the sight of a demonic dog being turned to stone and then dust. Instead, he was staring at the boy. He was a Hunter. Aaron knew that simply from what the boy was wearing – a long emerald green coat, with a silver circle on the back. It shared its elegance and design with the coat Skyler wore when he was heading to the Q-Zone, albeit with a different colour and symbol. Aaron watched as the boy turned around while wiping the back of his hand across his mouth, cleaning the splattered drops of blood from his face.
He was young, no older than early twenties. His hair was falling into his eyes – longer than Aaron had ever s
een it. He grinned and Aaron felt his heart skip a beat. There was no mistaking him. Aaron was looking at his dad.
“You’re welcome,” the twenty-something-year-old Chris said, smirking at someone behind Aaron.
Tearing his gaze away from his dad, Aaron looked behind to see an equally young-looking Drake scowling as he limped forward. His dark brown jacket was ripped. A long scratch down his cheek was leaking blood.
“I could’ve handled it,” he grumbled.
“Yeah? Could’ve fooled me.” Chris threw back the sword he had used to kill the beast and Drake caught it with the hand that wasn’t clutched to his side. “It looked like you were about to be its chew toy.”
Drake wiped the bloodstained sword on his jeans before sheathing it. He turned to Chris, grinning at him. “We can’t all be like the great and powerful Christopher Adams, now can we?” he teased.
“You could at least pretend,” Chris laughed.
“No thanks,” Drake said tiredly, grimacing in discomfort and pain. “I’m happy being just an average Hunter. You can wear your Best Hunter badge with pride.”
Chris puffed out his chest, green eyes sparkling with humour. “Don’t mind if I do.”
Their laughs echoed in Aaron’s ears as the memory melted and Aaron found himself back in the room, his hand still gripped around the hilt of the sword. He let go quickly and staggered away.
“Aaron?” Drake stood at the door holding two bottles, staring at him in alarm. “What’s wrong?”
Aaron barely heard him. The roar of blood pounded in his ears as his heart raced frantically. His eyes were wide, mouth open as he panted. He turned and left, passing by Drake.
“Aaron?” Drake called again. “What happened?”
Aaron pushed the door open and raced down the path.
***
Aaron found the Hunters at the garage. Some were working on their bikes while others were in the weapons hut stocking up on new blades. The lanterns hung low, giving ample light for the boys and girls to work through the darkness of the evening. Aaron hurried past them, seeking out two mages from the gathered crowd. One of the two found him first.