The Aeon Star

by Hart, Lauren T.

  Paul kissed her on the head. "It's going to be okay."

  Their seats were centered over the aisle below, the balcony giving them the best view of the proceedings, but they stood surveying the scene below. Genevieve pulled the hood of Nick's jacket over her head as she eyed the congregation and stage below from behind the guise of her large dark glasses, pale glossy lips, and gobs of multi-colored hair. All the while clinging to Paul like an adoring, and hopefully inconspicuous, leach.

  The stage was elevated about two feet above the rest of the ballroom and hosted a row of six empty armchairs, three on each side of the stage. A large plaque adorned with the symbol of the Aeon, hung between them. The floor, center stage, was ornately patterned with a gold encircled star, surrounded by six other smaller stars.

  The front row of the congregation's seats, which were also empty, held similar armed chairs to those on the stage. They were segregated in the center as well, by the aisle, which ran between them.

  The separation, at least the one on the stage, she suspected, was between Ange and Daémon. And my place, she thought, is right in the center. She wasn't sure why this thought made her smile, but it did. She turned her smile towards Paul, who quite unexpectedly leaned down and kissed her. "Here they come," he whispered.

  Armed guards were the first to enter, taking flank on either side of the stage. Then those reserved for the first row began filing in, down the aisle, from the back of the room.

  Her heart leapt, and she gasped when she saw him – Nicholas Grace. He was wearing a suit. Jacket, tie, slacks — the whole thing — even his Chucks had been replaced by a more traditional oxford. But what else would he wear to her funeral, she reasoned.

  "Settle down, Cupcake." Paul cautioned quietly.

  Nick stopped in front of his seat on the front row and turned. He scanned the balcony, quickly catching sight of Paul; he glowered.

  Genevieve tightened her grip around Paul, praying that Nick wouldn't recognize her.

  Paul nodded to Nick.

  Nick glanced at her in passing then turned and took his seat.

  Genevieve allowed herself to breath again.

  Once the first row was seated, six others entered, through a door at the side of the ballroom. Only one of them she knew, David, he was the second to enter, but she immediately recognized the first soul through the door. He was Gerard Auberon, her father. He was tall and thin, a common Ange trait, and he had the same shade of hair that Jenny Taylor's had been.

  Four men, and two women seated themselves on either side of the stage. David and Gerard taking the center most chairs.

  David made a cursory glance toward them.

  They took their seats as a man with a headset walked to the edge of the stage and snapped his fingers a couple of times, checking the mics on either side of the stage. He nodded then hurried back down the aisle.

  Gerard stood and walked to the center of the stage. It was then that she noticed that both Gerard and David wore large gold chains around their necks, adorned with ornate gold keys.

  "Normally, counsel meetings are not attended with quite as much interest," Gerard began. "But this is a historic day. This day brings with it not only the return of the Aeon Princess, but a restored balance." Gerard lifted the key around his neck and motioned towards its mate hanging around David's neck. "The Aeon Princess has returned the key that was sent away with her. And quite remarkably has recovered and returned the key thought lost along with the former Prince Xavier."

  Gerard motioned absently to David. David stood and exited and Gerard continued his speech. She tried to be patient; slowly counting to a hundred in her head and trying to estimate how long it would take for David to reach his office then she snuggled against Paul, closed her eyes, and let her body become slack in his arms.

  "Good luck," she heard Paul whisper

  She focused on David, on his office.

  Amber yelped as if she'd just seen a ghost appear before her. By comparison, she wouldn't have even known that Alicia was in the room had she not been sitting next to Amber.

  Genevieve was wearing the same pink dress and white strappy sandals she'd first worn in the ballroom.

  "Hey," Amber sounded put-out as she noticed Genevieve's dress.

  "You look beautiful," Alicia said, draping one of the cloaks over Genevieve's shoulders.

  "Cousin." David took her hand and they walked quickly, not speaking, down long corridors, crossing through rooms that bordered an expansive foyer and down the length of the gallery hall, past the ballroom and finally into a room adjacent to the ballroom. This room was lined with long tables and stacks of chairs.

  "Are you ready?" David asked.

  She took a breath and let her awareness expand. She felt the familiar sparks of Paul in her thoughts.

  And then— more sparks, and then more. The sensation repeated as her awareness grew, encompassing the masses in and surrounding the Auberon Estate. There were eight minds, in total, that prickled with sparks of electricity.

  She turned to David. "I'm ready."

  The entire ballroom shifted toward her as she entered.

  There was an overall sense of nervousness concerning her arrival, her presence, and her influence.

  David escorted her to the center of the stage then sat to her right, Gerard stiffened in his chair just to her left. She looked briefly toward him, but did not meet his eyes. He and two other Ange sat on her left, David and two other Daémon on her right.

  The crowd hushed and murmured, carefully watching her, trying to anticipate her.

  Slowly she removed the hood that concealed her face.

  The crowds gasped, the murmurs continued.

  Immediately she caught sight of Nick, he was sitting next to Marcus who was sporting several significant bruises on his face. But her focus was on Nick.

  She rushed toward him, and he swept her up in his arms. She gazed lovingly into his hypnotic jewel eyes. She loved him, and he loved her. His lips touched hers, softly caressing, and then—

  A sharp stabbing pain in her shared shoulder brought her back to reality. She tore her gaze away from Nick.

  Paul was right; she needed to concentrate.

  She scanned the audience, catching sight of familiar faces she hadn't expected to see, Davin and Mike sat near the back of the room underneath the balcony, near an elevated stand that supported a video camera and its operator.

  'Oooh, look at the hot chick sideshow.' Paul's thoughts echoed through her. 'You look beautiful by the way, like a frosted Cupcake.'

  Paul's thoughts made her smile.

  A different thought splintered through the crowd, dark, twisting, angry. The Hunter. He was close; amused by the trap that she had so willingly walked into.

  Say something, Paul prodded.

  Gen started to speak, in a tone louder than she needed to, given the acoustics of the room. "I am Genevieve Evangeline Auberon, the Aeon Princess."

  She looked to Nick, to his beautiful jeweled eyes, but he quickly looked away.

  "I know that you have many ideas about who I am and what I am." She spoke to the crowd, but her gaze always returned to Nick. "But, I'm not so different from you. In the life I can remember, I knew the love of family. I was a daughter and a sister. I had friends and neighbors, and classmates... and although I had no idea what I wanted from this life, I thought I knew my place in this world." She took a breath. "I was wrong." She took another. "In my life, I have witnessed the miracle of birth, and the tragedy of death. I have known pain and loss and betrayal and fear and remorse and obligation. And I have known duty and peace and contentment and happiness, and joy, and love."

  Nick met her gaze. His eyes were cold, his jaw clenched, his mouth pursed into a frown.

  "I understand the reasons I'm feared—" she started.

  But a dark laugh echoed from the left side of the stage — cutting her off.

  A deep chill shot through her. Her breath caught in her throat. How could she not have noticed him before?
>
  Nick's expression changed with hers. He now looked uneasy, on edge and confused.

  The Hunter stood from his seat on the stage, next to Iona Deschanel, who was seated directly next to Gerard, and stepped casually and gracefully toward her.

  'Holy fuck,' Paul's thoughts echoed through her.

  She braced herself, fully expecting to see the hollow faced distortion but the soul that stood before her now was just a man, solid and unshifting. He was tall, older, in his sixties maybe, his hair looked unnaturally dark against the lines on his face. His eyes were a cool, cold, green. He was an Ange, and his name was...

  Axander Corliss. An unfamiliar voice echoed through her head.

  Had she not been standing mere feet from the monster who had been her tormenter her entire life, she might have stopped to be curious about who the voice belonged to, but at the moment, she had other things to worry about.

  "Not so different?" Corliss chided. "You speak as if you are trying to win our sympathies, to lull us into a sense of security, before you step up to lead us, with innocence and understanding..." he jeered for the crowd. "And yet, even now, you invade our thoughts. Stealing our privacy, as you arrogantly wade through our most intimate truths."

  "I see the lies as well," she said.

  Gasps and murmurs flittered through the ballroom.

  "You admit to this?" said a woman on her right, Amaranth Farold.

  "I have no reason to lie," Genevieve leaned her head slightly in Amaranth's direction, but didn't dare to take her eyes off of the Hunter. "I was born a target. Every time an attempt on my life has been made, souls have died. I don't enjoy invading the thoughts of others, but I will use every device available to me, in order to protect myself and those who stand beside me, threatened by the whims of psychotic murderers."

  The Hunter chuckled, dismissive, as though she were being melodramatic. "Psychotic murderers?"

  "That would be my classification for someone who could point a gun at an infant and pull the trigger, Axander. But we both know you saw it as merely a power play."

  The audience's gasps and murmurs grew louder.

  Corliss laughed, as though she had just said something funny. "Are you accusing me of something?" he stepped close, standing directly in front of her. "It's not a crime to kill an Angemon... Princess."

  "But it is a crime to kill a royal," she countered.

  Corliss spoke quietly, so that only those within close range could hear him speak. "It's all about rank, my dear."

  Corliss pulled a strange looking gun from his coat; the nozzle was broad and flared. He pointed it at her, point blank.

  The room gasped, some shrieked. Loud protests, in familiar tones, erupted somewhere near the back of the room, Mike and Davin.

  Security guards on either side brought their weapons to the ready, some pointed at her and the crowd, others at Corliss, and still others wavered back and forth, unsure of which side to take.

  The remaining members of the counsel stood, some moving to the edges of the stage, out of the immediate line of fire. David and Gerard stood at either side of her.

  "No!" Genevieve shouted. Shooting a quick look first at David, and then Gerard.

  It was the first time, from her own memory, that she had ever really looked at her father, ever really seen him. She held his gaze briefly. "Step away."

  Gerard's expression was pained, his eyes fought emotion and his jaw was tight.

  She gave him a light nod, hoping that he would understand her.

  "Daughter." He nodded to David, and they both stepped back.

  The Hunter sneered at them, returning his gaze to her, his mouth twisted into a broad and grotesque smile.

  She put her arms out to her sides. "You will lower your weapons," she said.

  More than half complied.

  She took a breath, targeting her awareness, "You will lower your weapons, or you will face charges of treason against the crown, and you will die."

  The remaining guards lowered their weapons.

  "Mind control!" Corliss shouted. "You freely affect and manipulate the will of others and expect us to trust you, to embrace you as one of us, as our leader? This is nothing more than an Angemon scheme to destroy us all!"

  "Mind control?" Amaranth Farold growled from the side of the stage. "Is that how you killed all those souls? How you killed my brother?"

  "You still have your weapon," David growled at Corliss and took a step closer to Genevieve.

  "Embry took his own life," Genevieve defended. "I will take responsibility for the lives of his weak-minded lackeys; I had no idea my words would cause them to kill themselves. And yet, my only regret is not understanding my abilities well enough to have saved Lewis Xavier's life."

  "Lies!" Amaranth screeched. "You killed Xavier."

  "I will not deny that Lewis Xavier is dead because of me — because of what I am." Hot tears stung her eyes. "But I didn't kill him and I had no control over those who did."

  "She had nothing to gain by the death of my father, Amaranth." David defended. "Except, perhaps for this," He pulled the golden star from his pocket. It glowed a pale pink at his touch. "An Aeon Star," he explained as he held it up between his thumb and forefinger, before quickly returning it to his pocket. "My fathers Aeon Star, that she personally returned to my possession the very same day she found it."

  "Is that your lie, or hers?" Amaranth bristled.

  Nick and Marcus exchanged looks of confusion. Nick's expression turned remorseful, his eyes fell to the floor.

  "Enough of this!" Gerard boomed. "This is not an inquiry, Amaranth. The details of events will be seen to later. Axander Corliss," he pointed a finger a Corliss, who grinned at him with amusement. "You will lower your weapon."

  Corliss sneered. "Your actions can no longer be trusted, Gerard."

  "I am a key Axander." Genevieve said softly. "If you kill me, there is no possibility of a return."

  Corliss's morbid smile twisted across his face, and he laughed. "Not to worry, the wave doesn't kill the body."

  He pulled the trigger.

  The room — and her head — erupted and echoed with shrieks and screams as a burst of Fire Light bloomed wide before her, encompassing her.

  David fell beside her, clutching his side.

  She did what she could to contain the Fire Light, to direct it away from other souls.

  Her eyes caught sight of Nick. He was at the edge of the stage, screaming her name and being forcibly restrained by Marcus, and two others. She met his beautiful jewels, filled with panic and pity and anguish.

  She placed her palms together in front of her and raised them above her head directing the Fire Light up, and away from her.

  And then—

  She returned. Her soul still breathing with the Fire Light, she leapt from Paul's grasp, to witness the scene of madness below.

  The white cloak drifted, settling to the floor. Gerard stood to one side with Iona cowering behind him; David was lying on the floor opposite, clutching his arm and side where a spark of Fire Light had caught him. Janssen Quintrell — another counsel member, and a security officer were at his side.

  Corliss searched the stage for her. He grabbed the edge of the white cloak and pulled it toward him. "Do you see what I have done? I've killed the soul of an Angemon!" he screeched.

  "This has been your plan all along!" Gerard roared.

  Four armed guards stepped up to defend Corliss.

  Still others targeted Corliss and his guards.

  "I have killed an Angemon!" Corliss shrieked. "By Ange law that makes me a King!"

  "What?" Genevieve turned to Paul.

  "Yeah... it's kind of fucked up," Paul offered.

  Without a second thought she leapt over the half wall railing of the balcony.

  Shrieks and gasps accompanied her brief descent and landing. She stood, unharmed, as the room hushed and all eyes turned toward her. "I'm not dead yet, Axander."

  "Impossible!" Corliss screeched. "Imposte
r!"

  "You wish," she said as she tossed her sunglasses aside and marched toward the stage.

  Corliss's guards retrained their weapons on her as she marched, unimpressed by their threats, toward the front of the room.

  A hand reached out to assist her as she stepped onto the stage. It was only as she turned to face Corliss, standing between him and Gerard, that she realized it had been the hand of Marcus Leonard.

  Nick stood next to him, stunned, his mouth agape, his clothes disheveled from the scuffle with Marcus. "Gen." He made a motion toward her, but she turned and stepped away.

  "How long have you searched for a way to kill me, Axander? Allow me to help you discover what your researcher could not." She motioned aimlessly in Nick's direction. "Royal bloodlines are chosen. There exists but one nemesis predestined with the ability to defeat me. And you, Axander Corliss... are not it."

  Genevieve stretched her hand toward David, pulling sparks of Fire Light away from him.

  The crowd gasped as the simple wisps of light skipped through the air between them, dancing across her fingertips before leaping into the sky and fading from sight.

  "You will lower your weapons and surrender to me, or you will die," Genevieve ordered.

  Janssen helped David to his feet, as one by one the armed guards began to lower their weapons.

  Corliss grabbed a Fire Light weapon from the guard closest to him and pointed it at Genevieve. She sighed at the futility of his attempt. Then his mouth twisted into a demented smile and he pointed the weapon past her.

  She knew exactly where she stood. She leapt in front of the targeted discharge of Fire Light, the force of the blow knocked her directly into the arms of her father.

  The Hunter immediately fired again then turned, as Nick, David, Marcus, and a handful of guards rushed toward him.

  Genevieve pushed against her father, knocking him to the ground as she took the second hit of Fire Light.

  Corliss had turned, and was aiming directly at Nick.

  Genevieve caught sight of David, just before he leapt in front Nick.

  Nick, confused, had just enough sense to grab hold of David and pull him to the ground just as Corliss fired.