by Leela Ash
“I have to say, I haven’t heard about anybody else being attacked lately. If it was gang activity, you would think that we would’ve heard something else about it by now. Many people are generally targeted around the bars, but it has been a slow month. Unfortunately, it seems like you are one of the first to report any violence of this nature for quite a while. That’s good for the city as a whole, but that means that we don’t have any leads or suspects at the time. Could you try to describe your attackers and their apparel for me? That would really help us to try and make a distinction when we are coming down on the perpetrator.”
Krista tried to think back to what the men had been wearing. She frowned, thinking that the policewoman might not believe her. It seemed too unusual to be true, and to be honest, she wasn’t exactly trusting her own memories either. Not after she believed that she had seen the man who saved her turn into a dragon. That was just too out of this world to accept. So naturally, she kept that part to herself and only mentioned that a dark-haired man appeared to be the one who had saved her. But from there, she couldn’t remember anything else that had happened.
The policewoman nodded and told her that a lapse in memory was normal after a traumatic event like that. But it would be very helpful if she was able to explain what kind of outfits the attackers were wearing.
“It was like they were wearing robes or something,” Krista said reluctantly.
She didn’t want the policewoman to look at her as if she were crazy, but the woman’s piercing blue eyes fixed on her for a moment, her eyebrow raising almost unnoticeably. Krista was perceptive, though, and knew that she would have to tread lightly in order to stay on the policewoman’s good side. Otherwise, she may no longer be receptive to Krista’s experience.
“What kind of robes?” the policewoman said, scribbling a note down and not taking her eyes off of Krista.
“Not the kind of robes that you normally see or think of,” Krista said with a sigh. “It was more like the types of robes that the monks in the medieval times would have worn. I’m not saying that they were running around wearing bathrobes or anything. That would be weird. But this is also weird. It was almost like they were a cult of some sort.”
“That is quite strange,” the policewoman said with a nod. “Do you remember anything else distinguishing about their appearances? I will have to do my best to go through the city’s records and find out if there is any organization that might have that type of wardrobe.”
“Well, they were wearing trench coats over the robes, so they blended in. The trench coats were black, and they were wearing sandals. They seemed mean and dirty, and they attacked me out of nowhere. I don’t understand why they would do something like that.”
Krista waited for the policewoman to reply, but she was too busy scribbling down her notes.
“Were they carrying weapons of any sort?” the policewoman asked her.
“Yes, actually, they were. They had these weird type of guns that I had never seen before, but they weren’t using them on me. They pulled them on the man who came out to rescue me, though. I don’t know where he went. I wish he was around so that I could maybe have some help with filling out this report and finding out what’s going on.”
“You’re doing fine,” the policewoman said with a short nod. “Now, just tell me anything else that you remember about that night, and we will get this submitted and try and find the perpetrators as soon as possible.”
“Thank you,” Krista said, and set to work remembering every little detail that she possibly could. It would be nice to get herself a small amount of justice. Still, she knew that it wouldn’t be enough. She wouldn’t have any peace until she understood exactly what happened that night.
CHAPTER SIX
Clayton growled to himself as he rushed through the forest, his mind completely on Krista. She had seen him, that much was certain, but he didn’t know how much she could remember. He had lain her on her bed, covering her up and tending to her head wound as briefly and gently as he could. He knew that she would probably be very upset if she knew that he was there, and so he had left as quickly as possible and headed back to his underground lair with the rest of his clan.
They had all been curious about what had transpired that night, because it was very out of character for Clayton to be out of sorts in any way. They were used to him being cool and composed in every situation, and the fact that he was flustered seemed to spark a red flag that brought him a lot of attention from the members of his clan. The dragon-born people were very astute with perceiving emotions, and they knew that he was in distress.
“What in the world has happened to you Clayton?” they asked him, bringing him cups of water and plates of food. “Where on Earth have you been all night long? We know that the human-born does not stay out this late, she likes to go to sleep early. Something must be wrong.”
“She was attacked by the Guardians,” Clayton said, his face darkening. Hearing the words out loud only served to make him even angrier. The poor woman had no idea about her lineage, and she would not be as helpful to the Guardians as they seemed to think she would. It had taken them a long time to track her down, but now that they finally had, the Kersh clan would no longer be able to take a break from protecting her.
The dragon-born stared at Clayton, their eyes wide in disbelief and fear. They didn’t want anything to happen to him or to the woman who could potentially be the savior of their clan. This was terrible news, and they began to whisper amongst themselves, spreading a quiet panic.
“Please be quiet,” Clayton said, putting his hand to his temples. “We don’t know what will happen, but I do think that we should do our best to watch Krista and make sure that she is not in any more danger. We will have to take shifts for patrols from now on, instead of assuming that she will be okay for a few hours without any supervision. You know what the Guardians will do if they are able to catch her.
And they are not going to give up after failing just once. It’s definite that they will come back and strike again and again. I can only hope that they have not been able to trace her apartment yet. They found her seemingly by mistake in the alleyway, as they hoped to do, by posting men outside the doors of popular and crowded areas. Somehow, this inefficient strategy managed to work for them and she found herself an unlucky victim of circumstance. It was really fortunate that I was there to stop them.”
The people around him listened intently, nodding in understanding of the dire situation. They did not want to let Krista fall subject to the Guardians. They were terrible people. Many of the Lonis had been subject to immense torture by the Guardians. The Guardians came from a long ago established order of men who had discovered that the fabrics between the dimensions were torn, sometimes allowing mystical creatures and beings to fall through, giving them no choice but to make themselves comfortable on Earth.
These fundamentalists believed that it was no laughing matter and that the earth was not there for sharing. The earth was, in fact, for human beings and human beings alone, and if they were threatened by the invasion of another species, it meant that human beings might not be the top of the food chain. This is something that they could not settle for, and had quickly begun to learn as much as possible about the paranormal order of things. They clearly didn’t know as much as they hoped they did, or as much as they pretended to. This gaping hole in their knowledge brought them a profound sense of fear and panic.
They did not seem to care or understand that the beings who found themselves on Earth had no choice in the matter. In fact, they were victims of unfortunate circumstance who had found themselves lost in a world that they did not recognize, teeming with bitterness and fear. Without the Guardian’s knowledge and compassion toward the displaced peoples of other dimensions, they were subtly and slowly creating a hostile environment that was capable of procuring a devastating war; one that might transcend through the fabrics of time and space.
Clayton was familiar with the acts of the Guardians. T
he Lonis and the Kersh clan were not the only paranormal beings that had been able to cross through the portholes in the sky. He had traveled for a long way with his predecessor; the leader of the clan, and also his father. Together, they had seen other tears in the fabric of the Earth’s atmosphere. He was told that other beings, fairies and other mystical hidden creatures, had been thrown through the dimensions and lost on Earth.
“But how is that possible?” Clayton had asked. “What happens in these worlds that makes the creatures susceptible to being thrown into another world?”
“Just as the Guardians speculate, all I can tell you is what the previous leader told me. Your question is one the Guardians are hoping to answer. They want to safeguard this world from such invasion. They think of us all as monsters. Unfortunately, for both the people on Earth, who don’t want us here, and for us, who wouldn’t be here if given a choice, it’s impossible to change the rips in the fabric or to keep innocent creatures from falling through. Frankly, none of us truly wanted to end up on Earth, and the fact remains that many of us are more miserable here than we would be in our homeland.
“However, there seems to be nothing that we can do to prevent these occurrences. Every so often, there is a heavy vibration that pulses through the universe. Everything in creation is affected by this. For a long time, the fabrics between the dimensions had been able to hold up against the strain, but because of the corruption on Earth, and the poor intentions of the people who lived there, it has made the atmosphere very toxic and thin. It is easy for things to fall right through or be lost outside of it. There are holes all over the place that should not be there and do not exist in other places and worlds.”
Clayton had listened sullenly to his father, and his heart panged painfully at the memory. His father had died long ago, and ever since, it had been up to him to lead the clan into prosperity. But they were running out of options, and now he knew that Krista was the only one who could save them.
“Where is the girl now? I can go and look after her,” one of the dragon-born women said dutifully, standing up and preparing to launch herself out of the entrance of the underground tunnel.
“I’m not sure, I stayed and watched over her house all night, but when she left, I knew I had to come back here. It’s impossible for me to keep my eyes open any longer. It was a very long night. I’m sure she’s going to work at the library, and if not, she is going to be filing a report against the people who attacked her. It shouldn’t be too difficult for you to find her at the police station or at her work place. Just listen for the subtle vibration. She sings when she walks. She has a Loni song and it is a sound that resonates with our kind. You will not mistake it, no matter where you are. It might be loud and prominent enough that you could find it even now. I wish I could try, but I’m afraid I’m too tired.”
“No, don’t strain yourself. We will make sure that we keep a good eye on her.”
“I appreciate that,” Clayton said. “You all understand how important she is. I understand that it will be even more challenging than before, but somehow, we have to figure out how we can lead her into the clan and help her understand our ways. If she knows about her lineage, perhaps she will be able to find some peace and comfort among the members of our clan. That is the ideal, and I truly hope that you guys will consider the ways that we can bring her here and make her feel welcome.”
Everybody nodded quietly, seeing that their handsome leader was very close to falling asleep. They began to silently file out of the room, some lingering and leading him to a soft bed of feathery pillows. He sunk into it and closed his eyes, and found himself pulled into the deep comforts of a rejuvenating sleep.
CHAPTER SEVEN
As Clayton slept, he dreamt about the Guardians. He remembered his first encounter with them when he was a young man, and had never fully gotten over the repercussions of it. It was this very encounter that had led to the death of his father.
The Guardians were merciless and cruel, and believed that they were doing everybody a favor by getting rid of any interplanetary species that might be invading the Earth. It was one of the most close-minded things that Clayton had ever heard, and he had originally believed that negotiating with them and showing them that they were not truly as bad as the ignorant men believed they were could somehow make a difference and bring an end the slaughter, once and for all.
It had been this crucial mistake that had cost his father his life. Clayton dreamt of the horrific day time and time again, and this night was no different. It always began the same way.
Clayton and his father strolling through the woods, looking for food and items that they could use to make tools out of. Clayton listening to his father’s voice, the soft rumble, as it explained the secret inner workings of the world to his only son.
And then, confusion and chaos. Clayton being knocked to the ground and his father grunting in pain. The wild men with no hair and beady, angry eyes as they tied ropes around his father. His father snarling and beginning to shape shift into his mighty dragon form, being electrocuted before he was able to finish the transformation and falling limply to the ground.
Clayton stood up, with his legs shaking, and yelled to the man as he always did in his dream as he had on that fateful day, to leave his father alone. That peace was possible. He had a fantasy that he would be able to explain the plight of the celestial beings who found themselves lost on Earth. Perhaps they could work together to find a solution and get rid of the problem. His father was weak and wounded, and people were hacking away at his limbs with axes. They were trying to get through the thick dragon scales, and his armor, but it wasn’t easy and it was painful.
“What the hell does this boy think he’s doing?” one of the men said with a snarl. “We’re going to have to put him in his place, you know. That will be pretty fun to watch, won’t it?”
With that, Clayton’s father grew furious. Nobody threatened his young son and got away with it. Especially not these men. His father stood and tried to attack, but it left his underside vulnerable. A man stuck a sword through it, and Clayton watched in horror as his father began to lose great amounts of blood. He fell limply to the forest floor, gasping for breath and staring at his son with worried round eyes. There was an expression on his face that drove Clayton into this nightmare again and again. It was more than just a nightmare. It was the miserable reality of their lives. The most traumatic experience that he had ever had.
“Father…” Clayton whispered as his father drew in his dying breath. His large body quaked and shuddered as the life escaped it, and Clayton turned on his heel and ran away. His father’s attackers were too busy tying ropes around the shifter’s corpse to notice that Clayton had gone. They wanted to get it back to their headquarters as quickly as possible.
Clayton had never been more horrified in his life, and found himself running as quickly as his legs could carry him, until he was out of breath. He collapsed onto the forest floor just as his father had moments before. He stayed there, silent and unmoving, until one of the members of his clan stumbled across him. They thought that he was sick, and lifted him up and carried him back to the underground caverns. It took three days before he spoke a word, but by then, everybody had guessed that his father was gone. He had not returned with his son, and the acute state of grief that Clayton was experiencing said it all.
Now, in his dreams as an adult, Clayton was able to seek revenge. Everything happened the same way every time, right down to the lost and scared look in his father’s eyes. However, now that he was grown and he had some experience as a warrior under his belt, he found himself capable of striking back against the enemy. He would attack them, and bludgeon them all. Sometimes he would rip them apart with his bare hands and teeth. He would turn into a savage, with an aching desire to destroy everything at any cost, even if that meant he himself would be doomed. Nothing else mattered; all he wanted was to have his father back. Because that was impossible, he was forced to live without hope. Nobody t
hought that Clayton was going to recover from his grief, and it was true. Clayton had remained quiet and reserved ever since.
The most joy that he was able to find was in watching Krista from afar, and the memory that he treasured of her smile as he handed her the paper that she had dropped on the sidewalk. Now, she was his to protect, and he would do whatever it took. He could not fail her the same way that he had failed his father. If he had only kept his mouth shut or paid more attention to the situation at hand, maybe his father would still be alive. Maybe they would have been able to best the Guardians rather than turning the day into a tragedy.
He tossed and turned, moaning, until he sat upright in bed with hot tears streaming down his face. It always unleashed the floodgates when he had this dream, and although it felt nice to get revenge and tear apart all of the men who had harmed him and his father, Clayton found himself feeling empty every time he woke up. It would never bring his father back, and no amount of revenge would be enough.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“What makes you think that we are going to find her at the bar again?” Frederick asked. He scowled to the leader at the front of the line, and Richard smiled.
“I don’t know that we will find her there, but I do think that perhaps we will find a clue as to her whereabouts now. And anyway, since it was the last place we saw her, it wouldn’t hurt to try. Would it?”
Frederick couldn’t argue with that, and followed Richard until they made it to the bar where they had seen the dragon-born carrier. If they were able to take her back to the laboratory, it was possible that they would finally have the key. Her blood could teach them all they needed to know about opening and sealing the dimensions of the time portals and the rips in the fabric between the worlds.
Based on a lot of the research that they had been doing, the blood of the carriers was extremely special. With it came great possibilities. There was a reason that this particular type of people from the world above had been so revered. They were the builders and creators; the oracles and the artists. Without them, not only would there be no culture, but there would be very little pleasure in the lives of the people of Kaldernon. Their gifts had been utilized, time and again, to maintain balance and order within the world they lived in.