Fragments of Light

by Beth Hodgson

  Emerald listened patiently to the band’s practice. Several times the guys started cursing at each other; other times they goofed off. But even so, Emerald could tell they had a passion for their music, which showed through their songs.

  The shabby couch was starting to get to Emerald’s back, causing her some stiffness. She got up, stretched, and started walking through the warehouse, listening to the music while scanning the drawings and graffiti that plastered the walls. She accidentally kicked a thick black marker while coming around a corner, and it scooted across the cement flooring. Emerald walked over to the marker, picked it up, and opened the cap. The marker tip was still intact. Shrugging to herself, she decided to start drawing on the walls. And why not? Everyone else had had their share of the wall at one point or another, and at least it was something to do to keep her occupied. She didn’t want to be a distraction from their practice.

  Pressing the fresh black ink against the wall, she began scribbling furiously along with the band’s music. Glancing over her shoulder, she wondered if the band could see her. Emerald saw she was too far around the corner of the wall where the band was practicing, which set her mind at ease. She didn’t like when too many people watched her work. It made her self-conscious.

  While she was drawing, a magical-like trance came over her, filling her with power that was similar to hers but with a different feel to the energy. Her vision went black, temporarily blinding her. Emerald began to panic, but the magic soothed her within her mind, comforting her. The tender force guided her hand softly, causing her to draw what it wanted her to draw, while the soft glow of the yellow-green color filled the void of her darkened vision.

  She had felt this magic several times in her life, one being when she fell from her balcony, but she had never purposely summoned it. She didn’t know how. It came and went as it pleased.

  Emerald didn’t know how long she was stuck in her state, but when the magic released itself from her, there was no more music playing. The band was done.

  Stepping back to see what she had drawn, a frightening image greeted her. There, within the harsh blackness of the lines, her likeness emerged. Her face and body had a mass of wires coming out all over her, intertwined and tangled, floating outward to the corners of the wall. The wires reminded her of her life at the palace, being strangled and imprisoned by loneliness. But Emerald knew that it wasn’t the point of the drawing. The magic was trying to give her a message. But what?

  Emerald could smell Kyle’s cigarette. He was right behind her.

  Turning her head, Emerald met Kyle’s eyes slowly. He puffed on his cigarette, studying the drawing. There was a moment of silence, and Emerald couldn’t muster up the words to even begin to talk. Besides, how could she explain to him that she had been under some type of spell? Had he even seen her use her power? Was it visible? The thought frightened her.

  Finding her words at last, Emerald sputtered them out. “I… I decided to add… to your walls.”

  After what seemed like an eternity of Kyle smoking and staring, he said, “It looks like you are in a deep load of shit.”

  Nodding, Emerald shuffled one of her combat boots. The rubber tip caught on the cement floor, which made her foot stop mid-action. The other band members came over, liquor bottles in their hand while smoking.

  “Whoa, that’s kickass,” Kamren said. “You should draw the flyers for our band.”

  Diego took a drink, nodding his head. “What do you think, Em? Can you draw some cool shit like this for us? Remy drew our logo, and look how shitty it is,” he said, laughing, pointing to the symbol on the drum set.

  “You guys are fucking assholes,” Remy said, drinking his liquor. “But Em is pretty good, I’ll admit.” He looked at her, giving her a small smile. “What do you say? We can even give you some money to do it. I’ll make sure we take it out of our gig’s earnings tomorrow.”

  Kyle studied her face through his thick gray clouds of smoke. Unsure of what to do, Emerald searched Kyle’s eyes. He nodded to her silently.

  Her embarrassment melted away, replaced with the excitement of the others’ approval. It also gave her hope that she could start earning some money doing something she knew that she could do.

  “Sure, I will,” Emerald said, smiling at them. “Just tell me what you want your flyer to look like.”

  Remy began spouting off ideas, so Emerald gave him her full attention. Black and white. Inked with some color. Drawings of the guys. At one point he was making no sense, and Emerald glanced at Kyle. He was staring at her with a unique smile, one that she had never seen before. She couldn’t help but beam back at him. Suddenly aware of her response, he took a drag of his cigarette and hastily turned away.

  What was that all about?

  Emerald watched as Kyle grabbed his guitar, packing it up while Remy continued to chatter.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  The servants around Derek continued to pack up his things within the Sapphire Quarters, for if there was just a moment of opportunity for the prince to escape, he would need to be ready to leave at a moment’s notice.

  Derek’s headache continued to linger throughout the day, and the pains in his body hadn’t subsided, which forced him to drink wine, hoping that the alcohol would dull his pain. He was seated outside on the balcony, watching the sun set into the heart of the city. He compared himself to the sun, both he and the sun losing their light as their hearts continued to be weighed down by the gravity of this world. His light being the hope to wed Emerald.

  Just the thought of Damaris aggravated him. He had never intended to give Derek a fair chance and had placed him under house arrest. The nerve of Damaris. Father had warned him about the ruthlessness of the King, but Derek hadn’t wanted to hear it. He had longed for Emerald throughout these years and wanted no one else but her. And now she was out there alone in the midst of Arcadia, and he locked up under Arcadia’s guard. The very thought made him well up with anger.

  Damn him. This is all Damaris’s doing, he cursed under his breath. Derek took another hasty drink, then went inside.

  He saw Silas inside the wardrobe, pulling his garments off the closet bar. Silas noticed him from within the closet and came out to check on him.

  “Your Highness, everything will be packed up in another hour.”

  “Excellent. Let’s just hope that my father has caught wind of our dilemma. I don’t want to be here any longer than I have to, especially with Emerald gone.” Derek sat down briskly, having another sip of his wine.

  “Agreed, Your Highness. Hopefully His Majesty of York hears of our confinement, and of the missing princess, and sends some of York’s troops to come to our aid.”

  “That he would, Silas. You can count on that.” Derek nodded. “My father wouldn’t tolerate this one bit.”

  If there would be anyone, just anyone, on the council to notify my father, it would be Emerys. Let’s hope he comes to his senses and does the right thing…

  Derek rubbed his temples. The headache had advanced, his mind twisting in pain. Even with Silas’s soft noise coming from the wardrobe, each hanger Silas pulled off the rack was a pounding sensation within Derek’s mind, like a hammer to a stone, over and over again. His body began to sweat.

  “Silas!” Derek called out, rubbing the sweat off his brow.

  Silas peeked out of the closet. “Yes?”

  “More wine,” he ordered. “And please, will you leave me for the time being? I cannot take any more noise.”

  Silas saw Derek’s face and gave him a look that said you don’t look well, but Derek ignored it. Silas retrieved a full chalice and a carafe to accompany it. Derek dismissed Silas with a wave of his hand, and the servant excused himself to the adjoining sitting room, leaving the prince in peace.

  Derek drank the full glass promptly, seeking immediate relief from his pain. The wine was so bitter, but it made him forget about his exploding headache. As he poured himself another glass, he noticed his clothes were completely damp, d
renched in sweat. Peeling off the majority of his garments, Derek felt much better, remaining only in his black pants, leaving his jewelry intact as well.

  Downing another glass of the dark drink, Derek’s eyes shifted to the vanity, where he swore he saw a twinkling flash streak across the mirror. Staring into the reflection to get a good look, he saw the whole room as it was. Shaking his head, he took another drink, blaming it on his splitting headache.

  A moment later, another colored blur appeared across the vanity mirror.

  Setting down his glass of wine, Derek approached the mirror with caution. He glanced at his reflection, only seeing his pale face, dark circles under his ice-blue eyes. He looked terrible. Even his midnight curls had lost their luster. The strange sickness was taking a toll on his body and his appearance.

  For a moment, he chuckled softly at the mirror, shaking his head. Perhaps he was losing his mind.

  A cackling sound joined in with his laughter from within his mind. Derek stopped sharply, turning all around within the room. But the strange laughter continued, over and over again, with the pain in his head pulsating in unison.

  Derek doubled over in throbbing pain, smacking his head on the cold wood of the vanity in the process. For a moment, the pain dulled and the laughter stopped, releasing him from his bondage. His head rose slowly, his eyes carefully looking in each direction. He expected to find only himself, minus his sanity. But instead his eyes met Emerald’s alluring image, standing within the mirror.

  Was she in the room with him?

  He turned around sharply to see Emerald behind him, but she was not there. Derek slowly looked back into the mirror, and there he met her lovely image once again. He decided that he was indeed going insane. This was all a dream. Or a hallucination.

  The image of Emerald gave him a seductive glance, smiling coyly at him with her bright eyes. She walked toward him, swaying her hips as she moved, the slits in her black mesh dress exposing her thighs as she stalked toward him.

  His heart pounded hard at the sight of her provocative movements. The blood that pumped through his veins burned and ached, making him aware of his primordial manhood needs, making him feel so alive. He took another drink of his wine, indulging in the tempting image, for if it wasn’t her, he could at least enjoy it.

  But then Emerald closed in on him and reached through the mirror, pulling him to her lips. Derek passionately responded to her longing, tasting her desire for the first time as her body gently glided out of the mirror and into his arms. His body ached from her soft kisses, the same ache he had felt for her for so many of those long years. Her tongue massaged his, drinking in his every lust while the soft flesh of her hands ran up his firm exposed torso, exploring every part of his body, causing him to burn with an insatiable appetite for her flesh.

  This madness was much more appealing and rewarding, he told himself. Why fight it? Within the madness, he finally had her.

  Emerald took his hand, ever so gently, guiding it to the swell of her back. She continued to embrace him, squeezing her curves against his hard body, kissing him wildly. Derek couldn’t contain himself and answered her cravings by pushing her against the wall. Emerald thrust one of her legs up and around his hip, returning his kisses while running one of her hands down his backside, squeezing.

  Then Emerald laughed, the same laugh that had come within from the back of his mind. The laugh was the end of the spell, causing him to snap out of his fantasy, waking him from a pleasant dream.

  Startled, Derek stumbled back, seeing the true image of Emerald for the very first time. Only it was not Emerald. More like a violet witch, all in purples and blacks.

  “Derek, Derek….” the woman said, thrusting her back against the wall, like a lioness stretching after a long nap. Her large breasts stuck out, barely contained in her outfit, as her hands caressed the wall, as if it were a lover. “Who knew that a man with such strength and such vitality, could become so lost within the depths of his mind… all over a single woman. It is too bad you aren’t blond. We would have had much more fun,” she said, her violet eyes sparkling through her narrow slits. She was rather beautiful, and rather frightening.

  Derek stood shocked, unsure what to do. When he finally came to his senses, he yelled, “Guards! Silas!” He kept his eyes locked onto hers while slowly backing away, confused as to whether this woman was a dream or real. “Hurry!” he cried out.

  The guards came running into the room, with Silas trailing behind him.

  “Oh, Derek, there is no need for that, is there?” said the woman with a laugh. The violet woman lifted her right hand and gave a loud snap of her fingers. Silas and the guards’ bodies froze in place, and no movement or breath came from them.

  The air around Derek suddenly felt still. The light puff of wind from his balcony was no longer blowing, and the world was tinted in a deep-violet hue, except he and the woman were in full color. Time had stopped.

  “Much better. Now we can talk uninterrupted. It is so much more personal this way, don’t you think?” the woman said, laying her hands against Derek’s naked chest, gliding her fingers across it. She flashed him a charming smile, then turned away, swaying her hips as she moved across the room. She spotted a glass of wine, then sat herself down in midair, as if the air itself was a chair. Her hair began to float around her softly, a soft glow of dark-violet magic lightly swirling around her, playing with her hair and the fabrics of her dress.

  She took a drink from the goblet. “Oh, Derek, this wine is simply delightful.” She leaned back in the air as if getting comfortable.

  Derek continued to move backward until he hit a wall, frightened. “Are you real? How do you know my name?” he asked, his voice shaking with confusion and fear. His headache returned, and he rubbed it to try and ease the pain. “Never mind, please don’t answer.” Derek closed his eyes. This was all a dream; it was not real. And damned if would he give in to his craziness by answering himself.

  “This is no dream, Derek,” the woman answered. Derek opened his eyes again, hoping that she was gone. But she was still there, floating in midair with some sort of purple energy flowing around her. “And us… well… that was real too.” She smirked, taking another drink. “You should have done to the princess what you did to me to seal the deal. Women like bold men.” She smacked her lips, flashing him a knowing smile.

  Derek was in utter disbelief, taking in the whole situation before him. Watching the woman and the violet flow of energy around her, he began to inch closer, still proceeding with caution. This has got to be a dream. No one in the real world can do what she is doing.

  “Oh, Derek, I thought we just went over this. The magic is real, that I can assure you. Just ask your sweet princess,” the woman said in a honeyed voice with a layer of sarcasm.

  His heart stopped when she mentioned Emerald. What did she mean by that?

  “Oh, I am sorry.” The woman laughed, her violet eyes burned with intensity. “Didn’t your princess ever tell you?”

  His eyes widened as he gasped. “How? I don’t understand…” Derek said, stunned. Overwhelmed at everything, he attempted to reach out for the carafe, wanting to pour himself a glass of wine. It wasn’t real. It had to be a nightmare. She said Emerald had magic. Magic. Yes, he was deep in a nightmare. Perhaps if he drank himself cold in his dream, he would wake up, and this shade of a woman would disappear, along with her magic.

  Before his hand reached the glass, the chalice and carafe was surrounded by a purple glow, floating from its place on the table. It hovered in midair, the carafe pouring its contents into the chalice until the glass was full. After, the chalice floated toward Derek, hovering right in front of him, waiting for Derek to snatch it.

  Derek’s eyes shot to the woman, who gave him a smile. She nodded her head, gesturing for him to drink it. Staring at the woman, wondering what to do, he accepted the magical glass, grasping it with his decorated fingers, downing the harsh liquid.

  Derek lowered his glass, studying
the woman. “Who are you? I might as well entertain this nightmare,” Derek said, still unconvinced that the whole situation was real.

  “Oh, how rude of me.” She made a sweeping gesture. Derek couldn’t tell if she was genuine or if she did it out of propriety. “Some address me as Sorceress,” she said in a scornful tone, “but you may address me as Enchantress. Enchantress Ikaria.”

  “And where do you exactly hail from, Enchantress Ikaria?”

  Ikaria gave him a half smirk, seeming delighted that he had addressed her properly. “I am from far into the future, my prince. So far in advance that all of this”—the woman waved around—“does not exist.” Her eyes darted to the window. “And by the way, this city is truly fascinating. Quite remarkable, really.”

  Derek eyed her curiously. “What do you mean that it does not exist?”

  “Precisely what I mean. This city. Many of the world sectors. The technology. The world is much changed in my time. My world relies on magic, whereas your world depends on technology. Such a shame, really. It would be nice if they could coexist in harmony,” she sneered.

  “Magic. You are telling me magic is the source of survival in the future? Not technology?” Derek asked, watching her. “Are you sure I am not dreaming?”

  “Rest assured, my prince, you are not.” She got up from her invisible chair, then spun around slowly midair, as if she were lying on her stomach on a bed, propping herself up with a hand, the other hand holding on to the glass.

  Derek saw his chalice fill magically with more wine, as the carafe next to him emptied. “What do you want with me?” Derek asked her curiously.

  The woman took a drink, then gave an approving look at her glass. “I didn’t come to visit you just so I can have a moment of pleasure, although I have thoroughly enjoyed myself,” Ikaria said nonchalantly as she slammed the rest of her wine, then placed the goblet in midair. It stayed suspended in motion by her deep-violet magic. “There are people in the future, people who are corrupt far beyond anything you can imagine, people who outlaw technology, who have supreme rule over the entire Earth. These people are after your darling princess. Well, her blood, that is.”