Their chants raise along with the leader in waves like a flow. They no longer bow, but they lift and shake their arms. The leader spread its sleeves wide towards the statue.
The statue of Nyx shows a tall and slender young woman with long hair and a flashy dress. It’s made of bronze, but it's a shiny bronze as if recently built. I'm not sure if she is the one I've seen in my dreams.
As for the monster, I can’t tell who it is. But its sapphire eyes are a standout.
The phrase "white robes" sound familiar. Do I know them? It could be my imagination.
Anyway, the members keep chanting, burning, and circling all night long.
Whatever they have planned, it's nothing good.
Date: December 23
Time: Evening
Aster and Agnes arrived in time for dinner. I’ve prepared ahead of time knowing they show up. Since it’s almost Christmas, I’ve made a more significant feast than on Thanksgiving. It’s the same dinner but with twice the portions.
Turkey excluded, of course.
Gwen and Maury have been drooling the entire time I cooked. I’ve feared they’d drop saliva on the food. Thankfully, they didn’t.
Maury and I brought the food to the living room table. But the table isn’t long, so I had to keep some of the food in the kitchen.
As for Gwen, I could give her smashed pumpkin pie again. But I decided to provide her with the best organic canned cat food I can afford. Canned cat food made of pure protein without artificial ingredients.
I was worried at first. You see, Gwen’s been eating leftovers. Yeah, I know can cat food is cheap. But I’m picky about which ones to choose since there are so many choices. Either tuna, beef or chicken. Gwen used to be human, so naturally, she wants to eat the food we eat.
I understand, but I need to take her cat form into consideration. I’ve heard a cat’s stomach can be sensitive towards certain foods. I don’t want to rush her to a vet because of negligence.
Remember when I said I treat her to booze?
I did it one time, and she didn’t take it too well. I was terrified, so I stop giving it to her. She recovered but ended up puking all night. It was a mess. This happened before Maury moved in.
Looking back, I should’ve known better. But I was the selfish gal who cared about herself. I could’ve looked up online, but I was too lazy.
Since I’ve been rescued, I’ve learned to treasure my friends. To take their feelings and needs into account... They gave their lives for me without demanding anything back. And they’ll continue to do so since I’m a goddess reincarnate.
Giving Gwen organic cat food is the best Christmas present I ever did. See before all this, I never gave my BFFs gifts. We drank hard, got wasted, and we hooked up guy after guy. In fact, the guys I’ve hooked up gave me expensive presents. Typically, it was a dress, a purse, a pair of shoes, a gift card or a bottle of champagne.
Whoops! I’m trailing off-topic here.
Anyway, we’re all in the living room eating our meal and chatting on everyday things. Despite the portions, we manage to finish eating including food from the kitchen.
I almost forgot to mention the drinks. It isn’t the holidays without them, lol. We drank soda. But for dessert, we’ll drink beer. The desert is a panettone Agnes brought.
“Agnes, this tastes so good!” I exclaimed.
The buttery flavor is absolute perfection. It’s as if someone did this out of sheer expertise. I doubt Agnes bake this herself since she can’t cook.
“I had it custom ordered,” she said.
I knew it!
“It’s from a bakery which opened in Simona last year. Someone provided me a cupcake once, and I got hooked. But I can’t buy because the place is always packed. Here’s the business card.” Agnes hands over the glossy card to me.
I look up the site right way, hoping to find the recipe. The panettone we’re eating is listed, but the method isn’t there.
Wait a sec? Does this mean the recipe is kept a secret? I bet it’s done to prevent it from being stolen. Whatever! I can bake a unique panettone if I try.
“You’re right, Glen. You can,” Maury said.
Huh? Maury read my thoughts?
“Ah, I see. I’ll bake one for New Years! It will be so good, better than any bakery. You guys will not resist the temptation of eating MY panettone!”
Yea, I’m fired up! I look forward to New Year’s Eve.
“You guys will be present, right?” I asked. I am referring to Aster and Agnes coming back for New Year’s Eve. I cross my fingers hoping they say yes.
“Of course, we’ll come,” Aster said. “But on New Year’s Day, Simona City will hold its annual festival.”
Shoot! I almost forgot. Every New Year’s Day, Simona City holds its festival. It’s the largest in the country and has a long history going back to medieval times. The festival is replete with a parade, shops, live music, and lots of food. But I’ve been there twice because the weather is freezing cold.
“Don’t worry. The festival lasts all day long. We simply leave here early,” Agnes said.
“Sounds good. Since you guys are up, I’m in. I have never been to the festival so it will be my first time there,” Maury said.
“Can I come too?” Gwen asked.
“Yes, but you need to be in a bag.”
“I understand...”
“Hey, Gwen, how did you celebrate Christmas?” I’m curious. I could look up online right now, but I want to hear Gwen’s direct account.
“You see, Christmas was a little different...”
“No, Gwen. It was not ‘a little different.’ It was too different,” Aster added. Aster was from there too, so he knows as well. “We celebrated our Christmas for 12 days starting from there until after the new year feast.”
“But it wasn’t always big feasts every day. In my case, the big feast was on the 12th day. Food was a commodity so we had to save as much as we could.”
So, Gwen and her family ate only on the 12th day, huh? Makes sense.
“What about presents? Did you give?” I asked.
“Most of the time, we did but not always. Still, we had our own house. We had a land, and we grew some crops. But we had too many kids, though. And besides, toys were expensive. We couldn’t always afford them, so we made some of them (such as dolls) by hand.”
“But what about when the four of you were together?” Maury asked.
“Having the four of us around was the Christmas present. We didn’t have the money to buy luxuries. We needed to save for food and lodging,” Aster replied.
“Yeah, we were in constant danger. We used to joke our gift for Christmas was to be alive the next day,” Gwen said. She giggled nervously.
Times were tough there. The contrast between today and the past is too broad. To hear the firsthand account of those who lived there is painful.
But at the same time, I learned more about unpublished history. Thus, the experience they lived is authentic, free from bias. Their story will help me understand them better.
I considered asking Liz how she spent her Christmas. But hers would be political, and Liz may not want to talk about. Understandable. Some stories are better left untold.
“Oh, Glen. Here’s your gift.” Agnes gives me a shiny gift bag. It’s a bit heavy.
“Thank you,” I said. “I’m sorry I don’t have anything to give back.” I should’ve bought Agnes something, but I’m not sure what she would like. I don’t know her hobbies, and I’m not into academic stuff.
“Don’t worry. The four of us here is the Christmas present I need. Sounds cheesy but true.” Agnes smiled. Wow, I never expected to hear such a statement from Agnes’ mouth. It’s as if she views us in high regard.
“The look on my sisters’ faces were priceless when I told them I want to spend with my friends. I’ve spent the holidays with my sisters and their families, but I’ve always been by myself. This is my first Christmas with friends.”
“This is also
my first Christmas with friends,” Aster paused, “along with Agnes. I was forced to celebrate the holidays alone for three years.” Aster is referring to the shack in the forest he lives.
“I had no choice. I couldn’t bring Aster without causing an uproar.” Agnes’ hand shiver, but I place mine over hers to show understanding. I would’ve been upset before. Not anymore. I make eye contact with her. Her dark expression turned into light upon looking at me. We give out a light blush.
“Here’s a present for you, Mr. Maury.” Agnes gives him a sealed envelope. “A token of my gratitude for fixing my car.”
“Wow! Thank you, Agnes!” Maury’s eyes widen upon receiving the unexpected gift. “You know how you guys mentioned this to be your first Christmas together? This is my first Christmas spent too.” Maury smiled. “Before I lived with grandpa, holidays were the worst time of my life. Always crowded, noisy, and stressful. This is the first Christmas I can celebrate without feeling miserable.”
“This is my first Christmas too. I’ve been in this world for a while, and this the first time I celebrate since being in this form.” I hold Gwen, who’s in her cat form, and gently rub her nose over mine. I don’t need words to express this affection.
“I’m going to open my gift, okay?” Maury said as he carefully opens the envelope. Inside is a greeting card. Whoa there! A limited-edition illustration of the MMO I used to play? How in the world did she get it?!
“Agnes, this card...” I said.
“I won it in a drawing. I figure something like this would appeal to him. He mentioned he read fantasy comics, so I decided to give this as a present.”
Maury opened the card. Inside reads a Christmas message, but there’s a handwritten note from her: “Mr. Maury, thank you for fixing my car. I can never thank you enough for your understanding towards Aster and me. Merry Christmas. Best regards, Agnes.” So sweet of her to write this...
Huh? I see something else inside. It’s a smaller, long, thin brown envelope. Maury opens the item, and there’s cash inside. A lot of paper bills. Amazing!
“Cash is useful. I decided to give them over a gift card.” Agnes is so awesome. She can read our minds. Yeah, we’re high tech, but we’re still old school.
“Sweet! Thank you!” Maury hugs as she blushes.
“You’re welcome,” she said, hugging him back.
“Okay, it’s my turn,” I said. I peek inside the bag, and I see there are two presents. There is a lightweight box and a heavy box. Both are wrapped.
I unwrap the lightweight box first, followed by the opening. I pull out the item, and it’s a picture frame with a photo. It’s a photograph of a ballerina with an autograph on the bottom.
Upon closer inspection, I notice a familiar face.
No way!
My hands shake. There’s no mistake.
Grandma...
But how come? This photo is too new. It should be old and blurry. The signature below is hers. I know the handwriting.
“Agnes, where did you get this?” I asked with a serious expression. I know I should be happy, but this setup makes me wonder if this photo is real. My grandma was famous; thus, fakes and edits are plenty.
Agnes’s face darkened. She knew I was going to ask. It’s not I don’t appreciate her gift. I do. But as someone who dealt with hate and lies, I had to be skeptical.
“Indeed, it is a photograph.” Agnes pulls out a photo frame from her bag. “This one in my hand is the original copy. My father gave it to me. He bought this photo when he went to one of her shows. He went backstage after the performance and begged her to sign an autograph. My father had this photo for a long time before moving overseas.”
The original photo is yellowish, and the signature faded, but otherwise intact. I can tell her father is a diehard fan of my grandma. The way he kept the sentimental value of the photo is priceless.
“Can I hold it?”
Agnes passes the frame without a word. I place the restored copy on the table while I hold the original in my hands. I move my fingers through the image. Aww, tears are welling in my eyes. My grandma was a remarkable woman. Despite hardships, her love for ballet never wavered.
I never understood why my mother hated it. She never showed any interest whatsoever. But I’m the worst for not following grandma’s footsteps. If only I accepted the offer, I would’ve been prima like her. Instead, I opted for a lazy life like my mother did.
When I performed for my friends, I realized the horrible mistake I was going to commit. I could’ve ended up in the gutter, possibly pregnant from some guy I don’t know. And probably addicted to all sorts of vices. Being a dancer is what I should’ve done with my life; not working some lame office job.
I remember my mother said to grandma I’ll hate ballet because of the “pressure.” She was wrong. Grandma never forced me to practice. I practiced because I love dancing. And I love practicing with grandma.
Yeah, I did figure skating too. But I didn’t start practicing until I was ten because a friend of grandma (my coach) suggested so. I didn’t have much interest when I started. But as days passed, my eagerness grew through practice. And unfortunately, like ballet, I rejected the offer.
“You can tell she was graceful,” Gwen said.
“Yeah, truly a pro,” Maury added.
“The way she extends her arm, the crossing of her legs, her slim pose, and her fine expression... a work of art itself,” Aster said.
“If you like, I could give you the original.”
“No, this is enough.” I give the original back and hold the restored copy. I don’t want to take what her father gave her. It isn’t right. This restored print is perfect for me.
“Aren’t you going to open the second gift?” Gwen asked. The second gift is a heavy box. I doubt it’s something like a jewelry box. I think it might be a tome.
Why in the world Agnes would give me a book? I hope it’s not something lame like a self-help advice book or a boring academic journal. If she’s going to provide me a book, it better be worth reading.
I unwrap with caution. The tensions rise as I slowly unveil the item. My brows furrowed, I gulp my throat, and my hands sweat icy cold. Please let it be something good.
My eyes widen.
It’s the print copy of Gwen’s Book of Spells. As with grandma’s photo, this book is restored with a brand-new leather cover. Its pages inside are pristine white with sharp black letters. This is indeed a one of a kind hardcover.
“I can explain,” Agnes said. “While you were asleep back in October, I talked to Kitty about giving you a copy. Kitty said the original must be kept. Thus, I decided to take the original to a specific publisher. I demanded them to print the tome with absolute discretion, and they did. I gave the original back to Kitty and saved the restored copy for you. I also sent the digital version so you can read on your computer.”
“You sent it to my email?”
“Yes, it should be there along with the photo file.” I check my smartphone to see. Sure enough, she sent both the tome and grandma’s photo as attachments. I notice she also sent to Maury and Aster.
“Yeah, I have the email too. I can read anytime,” Maury said.
“Yes, I have the email too. I look forward to reading it,” Aster said.
“And you guys have the special photo too,” Gwen said.
I glanced at Gwen’s book before. Now with my own copy, I’ll give it my full attention. Her book is worth reading. It’s historical, entertaining, and useful.
“Gwen, how long did it take you to write this?”
“The rest of my life after I settled. I grew old writing it. But I was lucky to finish the book before I died. I gave the tome to Moros for safekeeping.”
I stroke her head. Her eyes blink with pleasure. Feeling her warm body on my lap is relaxing.
“Oh my gosh, these are the best Christmas presents ever! You guys are the best! Thank you!!”
We gather for a group hug.
And we chuckle a good l
augh too.
I swear I’ll treasure them forever.
Date: December 24
Time: Afternoon
Maury and I are walking in the park near home. There aren't many people around because of the cold weather.
Today is Christmas Eve. Since we celebrated with friends yesterday, we want to celebrate Christmas by ourselves.
Celebrate Christmas both as cousins and as friends.
We walk side by side, holding hands. Before this, we've walked apart. Holding Maury's hand feels nice. We’re not wearing gloves, so the experience is authentic.
On the other end, I'm carrying my tote with Gwen in it. Yes, I took her with me. I would've been guilty if I left her home alone while we're out. She pops her head out of the bag to appreciate the scenery.
“Have you thought what your life would’ve been if you were a pro?” Maury asked. To be honest, never. I was too busy working (and drinking) to think of those things.
I’m surprised I can still do a full split after five years of inactive practice. I thought I would be all stiff considering I worked an office job. But I did manage to sneak some stretching exercises when I moved to my current apartment. The room I lived before was too small to do proper training.
When Gwen trained me, all the memories of my practice days came back. I know sorcery, and weapon training is nothing like ballet or figure skating. But I fused them both and turned them into a martial art of sorts. So when I completed my training with the flying dagger, the moves I used was a result of the fusion.
I was ashamed when Maury said I could use ballet as a martial art. What kind of a dancer fights an enemy with ballet? Unheard of. This is my chance to strike as prima my way. Thus, when I face an enemy, I’ll use every move at my disposal. The ones which are worthy of sublime art.
“Glen, let’s waltz,” Maury said.
“Waltz?”
“I saw a TV show about a duet dancing the waltz. I thought of you and your performance, so I figure we should try.”
“I don’t know. I never did pairs.”
“Let’s do it anyway.”
Maury is eager to start. I’m hesitant, but I give in to his smile. I place the tote towards a tree. Gwen starts to watch our little performance.
Legacy of Dolyn Page 18