Lucid Waking

Archive for the ‘God Teacher’ Category

The Prince: Back Again

            The fire had gone out and Teagan’s body fell from its sitting position to a slump on the floor. Sir Drummond smudged the chalk lines and started to pick the stubs of candles off of the stands. Aidan stood in the corner looking out the window.
            “Don’t bother looking for her. She can’t follow you and she’s not coming back,” Sir Drummond said, annoyed. “Stop being such a child.”
            “I am a child,” Aidan said just as annoyed. He walked over to the candle stand on the opposite side of the circle and kicked it over. It fell with a loud crash and the candle popped of the stand and rolled across the room. “Everything I’ve learned was from Death, herself.”
            “Do not disrespect the Forces. They know more than you ever will.”
            “Quite,” Aidan said and walked out of the conservatory.

            “Child don’t cry,” a woman clad in white came out of the shadows and put her arm around Teagan. “Goddess Fate has seen your future and she insists that you see her right away.”
            Teagan wiped her tears away with her hand and stood up. The light had moved from behind her to in front and illuminated a long straight tunnel leading to a door.
            “I am Death,” the woman said before Teagan had a chance to inquire. “I was sent here on an errand to bring you back. My sister, Fate, has much in store for you, but she would not tell us what it was she wanted. She only promised that while you have to stay here, there was a way for you to go back.”
            Teagan grabbed the woman’s outstretched hand and followed her glowing white figure out of the darkness in into a cavernous room. The walls were lined with tapestries of kings and famous battles. The table in the center of the room was carved from ivory and had the thousands of names of heroes from every race carved into the legs and edge. Cloaked figures of various colors were seated at the table, some with their hoods down to reveal beautiful faces, some remaining anonymous with their hoods covering their features.
            At the head of the table in a large gold throne sat a golden skinned woman, who Teagan presumed to be Goddess Fate. She had her gold hair pulled back by flowers and she sat with her hood down at her neck. She looked at Teagan with pupil-less gold eyes and nodded for Teagan to take the seat across from her at the table. Death pulled the chair out for Teagan before walking to her own place beside two brightly colored figures with their hoods up.
            “Now that our final guest is here, I will do the honor of revealing what plans we have in store. It’s imperative for the future that Teagan is still alive. With careful consideration of our rules, I have come to the conclusion that we need to reanimate her body.”
            The crowd stayed silent, but a red hooded figure stood up and looked at Goddess Fate. “Should we tamper with the mortals again? They must be going through a lot to fathom the possibilities of trading the dead and then reanimating the bodies. Imagine how history will be different when the Children realize that all their heroes and lovers who have died can be brought back just by killing their brother or enemy. This power cannot be revealed. And if we animate her body? The Children will get the impression that as long as they keep the body, their loved ones can come back to them and live with them forever more.”
            “Your concern is one we must consider, but these actions should not lead to undesirable ends like you fear. We will animate her ourselves without the mortals knowing. Then she will complete the tasks set before her like Prince Aidan will complete his fate. And then both of them will die like their fates were written. We have no time,” Goddess Fate said waving her hand to cut off another protest, “we have to do this now, or it will be too late. Forgive me, my brothers and sisters, but we cannot debate this.” At once, she was next to Teagan and lifting her up from her chair. “All you have to do is sleep,” she said while leading Teagan out of the room and down the hall to a green-lit chamber. “We will do the rest.”
            Teagan shook her head to rid herself of the splitting headache. Her eyes were blurring everything and the only things she could make out on her surroundings were the large rosy windows. The floor was clean, but slippery and the light in the room was increasing. She propped herself up on one elbow and groaned from the pain in her head. The room was starting to focus, but she couldn’t look at the light for the pain. But as the room got brighter, her head started to clear. Finally, she sat up and examined her “animated” body. Her skin was a slight silver hue that shimmered in the light. The Forces had also changed her clothes: her dreadful dress was replaced by a page’s outfit with pants and her shoes were missing. Her hair had also been extended to long tresses reaching her shoulder blades. She stood up and leaned over the plants to look at the glass as a mirror. The only features that had visibly changed were her eyes. They were still hazel, but the gold flecks had disappeared. It was hard to tell in the crude mirror, but she guessed that her eyes were cloudier than they had been when she was fully alive. She sighed and started towards the door.
            The hall way was silent again, but the ocean of silence had dissipated and she heard the hall clock was ticking with familiar rhythm. She could hear Sinead in the kitchen making breakfast, but there was no other sound in the house of anyone stirring. The library door was open and Teagan glanced in. Aidan was sitting with his back to her reading a book. He remained engrossed in the text even when she walked in and sat down across from him at the table. After some time, he closed the book and looked at her annoyed for interrupting. His expression melted into pure surprise and he leapt up from his chair and ran over to her.
            “Teagan? What in the hells happened? I thought you were dead. What did They do to you?”
            Teagan put her finger to her lips to silence him and stood up. “Goddess Fate said it was not my time to die, so they reanimated my body.”
            “I’m glad you’re back,” he said smiling, “even though you really aren’t,” he added sadly. He walked back to his seat at the table and opened the book. “It’s amazing the books you have here,” he said cheerfully. “I could read these stories for hours.”
            “Aidan,” Teagan said closing the library door. He looked up at her expectantly, realizing how serious she was that she had said his name for the first time. “We have to talk about this. Lady Fate said that I had a purpose to fulfill alive. She gave me the impression that I was supposed to help you, but I don’t know how. Besides, everyone believes that I’m dead, so if someone found me like this and talking…”
            Aidan put his book down again and turned to face her. “What’s on your mind?”
            “I think maybe it would be best if I just stay out of the picture. I’ll help you rule in whatever ways I can, but perhaps it would be best if no one else knows of my existence.”
            Aidan nodded. “An admirable plan, but don’t you think your parents should know?”
            Teagan shook her head. “I’m only here to continue my fate, nothing more.”
            “Then you’d better get ready for a journey. The rest of the household has either left or gone to sleep just a few hours ago. They won’t wake up as long as you’re careful. Then go to the coach house, I’ll have a carriage ready for you.”
            Teagan ran off to pack her things, grabbing only enough clothes to last her a week. She realized he had not known she was a servant, because the travel through the maids was proving difficult. The girls were almost awake and those that were still asleep were sleeping lightly. She tiptoed through the line of maids and just managed to get to the door when someone grabbed her by the shoulder.
            “Teagan? What’s wrong? You look sick,” Talia said fearfully. She held her friend by the shoulders and looked her up and down. “Where are you going?”
            “I’m not supposed to be here,” Teagan said giving Talia a hug, “I’ve got to leave.”
            “What happened?” Talia asked starting to cry.
            “You’ll find out later today.”
            “Don’t go,” Talia said feebly pulling Teagan’s arm towards her.
            “Talk to Prince Aidan,” she said finally and pulling herself away went up the stairs. Talia didn’t follow, but went back to bed repeating her friend’s words over in her head to try and make sense to them.
            Teagan managed to sneak a bit of food from the kitchen by sneaking into the pantry when Sinead wasn’t looking. Just as simply, she snuck out the servants’ door in the kitchen and ran to the coach house. The morning was frosty and glittering in the slowly rising sun. The frost was starting to melt and her footprints left wet puddles of grass where she stepped in her bare feet. Breathless, she peered into the coach house.
            “Good morning, ladyship,” a short fae man came out from behind the large brown horses and bowed. He was wearing all green except for a conspicuous red hat, which he took off in her presence. “The lad said you’d be going to Wintershire Cove. Is this correct?”
            She nodded. “Would you like any pay for this inconvenience?”
            “Already got it,” the man said holding up a gold coin. “Besides, the Prince commanded it. He mentioned you were the one to get him out. I don’t need any other money besides for the tolls.”
            She nodded as he continued talking about the bloody roads and blasted laws the fairy folk had set up. She looked back at manor and sighed. She was leaving home for good, now. She glanced through the library window as they passed and caught a glimpse through the sun reflecting off the glass of Aidan waving to her out the window. She waved back and faced forward again. I hope this is what Lady Fate means when I have to complete the tasks set before me, she thought. Because if this isn’t, it’s a pretty horrible beginning to these turn of events.

The Prince: The Pentacle

I have to explain something at this point in the story. Souls age. Souls age in the body and souls age on their own after they are separated from the body. If a child dies, their soul continues to get older until they reach a certain point. Then their soul continues to age, but it gets "younger" until it is a child again. These "baby" souls are then given a body and are born again. For example, if a parent had the ability to talk to his or her ten year old child who died four years ago, he or she would see his or her son or daughter at age fourteen. So it doesn’t matter when they died, they would still be the equivalent age that they would be if they were alive.

            Lady Devlin smiled, but her face kept its melancholy seriousness. “The ceremony has to be preformed by one of kin to the deceased to be taken in place of the body restored.” She patted Teagan’s knee and stared out at the crowd, tears starting to fill her eyes. “Devils are very possessive of their soul collection.”
            “Well, if that’s my part, how am I related to this prince? I was the daughter of a miller who wanted his daughter to have a better life than he did. That’s what Lady Watson told me, anyway. I suppose that’s not it at all, anymore.”
            “This house has so many secrets, I’m surprised it hasn’t cracked much earlier than this. But no one knows how much longer it could last,” she stood up and carefully brushed the tears off her cheeks. “May I show you something Teagan?”
            Teagan agreed heartily and followed Lady Devlin out of the parlor. Lady Devlin closed the door behind them quietly and then hurried into the library. She pulled out a key from a ring of keys around her neck, and unlocked the door, returning it to its shut position before walking over to a particular shelf near the ground.
            “Teagan Miller,” she said thoughtfully as she pulled a large book from the shelf and put it onto the spotless table. The tome was stuffed carelessly with various papers of ownership and borrowing. She opened up the book and flipped through a few pages until she found a certificate of birth. She handed this to Teagan. “Teagan Miller is in fact Teagan Devlin. Given up by her parents to become a maid in their very house so that she could be kept safe from prying eyes,” Lady Devlin walked over to Teagan and put her arm around Teagan’s shoulder. “Teagan, people were furious at the king and his descendants and we were afraid that if things got difficult someone would come to kill you as the niece of the king. We didn’t just want to give you up to a peasant family since we didn’t know whom to trust; anyone might be turned by some money. Besides, we couldn’t be sure that the family we would give you to had completely sincere claims. We thought it best to keep a strict eye on you, so your father and I let Lady Watson take care of you until you were old enough to do chores around the house. I’m sorry to tell you this way, but I had no idea this entire affair was going to unravel around us.”
            The door opened slightly and Lord Devlin came in, quietly. “You told her, didn’t you?” he said closing the door behind him and locking it. “I’m sorry, Teagan.”
            Teagan looked from Lady Devlin to Lord Devlin, but neither one would return her gaze. Her childhood fantasies of a father who cared conflicted with the facts she knew, but she stood up and took a deep breath. Despite an intense feeling of despair, she felt no need to cry. She sighed. “I must do what my duty demands of me,” she said diplomatically. “Let’s go to the conservatory and see what’s going on.”
            Lord and Lady Devlin exchanged looks, but made no sign of protest. Teagan unlocked the door and started making her way down the eerily silent hall. She felt as if she was walking through water that slowly turned to ice. When she lost feeling in her fingers and toes, she turned towards her parents, but couldn’t see anything beyond the slowly dissipating image of the hall. Her heels didn’t even click on the polished surface as she continued to walk through the pool of silence. She arrived at the conservatory with surprisingly no fear and opened the door.
            Sir Drummond had set up a large purple pentacle in the center of stone floor. The five points of the star had candles burning steadily with a purple flame. At her entrance they flashed and slowly spread along the circle of the pentacle like someone had spilled the flame on gunpowder. She looked around the room, but found her self utterly alone. She stepped over the low flame of the circle, careful to not smudge the chalk and sat down in the middle of the five-pointed star. All at once a ripping sensation over came her, and she made motion to scream. It was unlike anything she had ever felt before, but she didn’t feel any pain. Only when she opened her eyes did she realize she closed them and almost instinctively she looked up at the moon. She became enticed by the ethereal ocean of light. Reaching a hand out to touch the liquid beams she realized that her soul was now outside the graveyard and her body was, presumably, still in the pentacle. Her skin was a transparent purple like the chalk and she could see through her hand to the corporeal world beyond. Taking a deep breath, Teagan walked into the cemetery.
            Gravestones with cold angels loomed over her sobbing in the pale moonlight. Their tears were held fast to their cheeks where the artists had tried to capture the essence of rolling and their faces were warped into what one might have thought of as sadness, but came to her as anger and fear. Out of nowhere, she tripped over an invisible thread and landed on a large tombstone on the ground. Her joints were jarred from her fall, but otherwise she was, unsurprisingly, not hurt. Neatly wiping imaginary dust off her skirt to regain composure, she glanced at the stone. “Here sleeps the body of Prince Aidan Breckenridge, son of Duke Eric of the western empire and Queen Nostariel of the woodland fae. May his soul be held with peace he never found in this world.” At the bottom of the stone was the royal seal of both the woodland fae and the king. Teagan was compelled to press the seal of her king and all at once the tombstone rose up lifting a crude elevator with it. With a loud click of mechanics, it stopped at the ground and swung open its door for her. Her first instinct was to be afraid of the rickety vehicle, but that was soon replaced by the rationality that her soul couldn’t die, nor be harmed. With a final look over her shoulder, she stepped into the elevator. The door closed behind her and the elevator started its descent.
            The elevator stopped at the bottom on a mat of moss with the same click of mechanisms that it had previously sounded when it arrived to retrieve her. The door swung open to let her out before disappearing into the darkness. Strange, she thought, though she couldn’t fathom why. A disappearing elevator seemed to be the least strange thing of the evening. She herself emitted a bit of purple light, but not enough to see by as she groped forward in the dark. Still, she kept walking forward into a steadily increasing green light.
            “Lady Teagan?” a man’s voice sounded from behind the light source. He sounded tired and young, but a little wary of the ethereal intruder to his resting place.
            “Yes,” she answered, blocking her eyes from the now white light.
            “Oh, thank Gods,” the voice answered. All at once the light dimmed and she could see a glowing blue figure like herself. The man who came forward looked much like Lady Breckenridge with small pointed ears and defined bone structure, but mostly like his father with very muscular features. She shifted weight nervously as this stranger, who she presumed to be her cousin, came forward and embraced her. “They said you would come,” he said holding her at arms length and looking into her eyes as tears rolled down his cheeks. “Ah, forgive me,” he said glancing at her expression and letting his arm drop to his sides, “you never knew who I was.”
            “Well, neither did you. Unless I am mistaken, we’ve never met.”
            “Never in person. Not any time you would remember,” he stepped away from her and looked at the green light. “The Forces argued a lot about my death. They kept saying that it was never supposed to happen and that I was supposed to stay alive. Lots of them argued with each other. When they agreed to bring visions to the local priest and tell my parents to bring me back, they started talking a lot about you. They would let me go up to the corporeal world as a spirit and see the things I was missing. So that when I come back, I would…” his voice trailed off and his tears started again. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered and slumped down to a crouch. She stood above him looking into the dim green light listening to his sobs.
            Teagan felt sorrow, not for her fate, for his. She felt his despair as he fathomed the possibilities of coming back to life at the cost of a family stranger and how when he came back, war would break out again. She felt his anger at everything he knows will happen at his return and after everything he’s heard from the Forces, that they would allow the worst to happen. She felt pain as she realized he was becoming one of the Forces, one of the Gods, to fulfill a fate that he might not believe in. She realized that the only thing he could control were his own tears. She fought back her own tears and lent her cousin her hand.
            “Please stand up,” she said, “if I’m going to stay here for you to fulfill your fate, then you must go back. I refuse to die for you if you won’t change things for the better.”
            He grabbed her hand and propelled himself so he was standing up. He gave her a small smile and wiped the tears from his cheeks. “I won’t let you be forgotten,” he said and kissed her on the forehead. “I’ll be back for you, Teagan.”
            Teagan nodded and watched him go back into the darkness. She sat down on the ground and finally, cried.

The Prince: Fairytale

            Dinner finished quite uneventfully besides the bit and pieces of forced conversation throughout the night. Sir and Lady Albertson remained stone cold and purposely avoided Lord and Lady Breckenridge. Lady Albertson was a long, thin woman with long gray hair left to fall down her back. Her hands were slender and smooth without a hint of wrinkles or discoloration. She stood a head taller than her husband and seemed to glide across the floor. Teagan thought she would very much like to talk to this obviously prominent woman, though her ruby eyes were disconcerting especially when they glowed at the mention of a Breckenridge’s name.
            Lady Breckenridge seemed the exact opposite except for her stony disposition. She however had more prominence of the two women and even seemed to overpower than her husband on matters of state. Her hair was the golden brown of toasted marshmallows and was pulled neatly behind her head in a bun revealing pointed ears. The tips of her ears were green as were the tips of her graceful fingers. She was not too tall in comparison to Lady Albertson and her husband, but nearly towered over Lady Devlin, who was not much taller than Teagan.
            The two women were the most composed and secretive, but when only Teagan was observing, their looks fought silent battles in the space between them. Lady Devlin led Lady Breckenridge quickly out of the dining room long before the Albertson couple had even a chance to end their conversation with another prominent family. Teagan closed the shutters of the window to the dining room and started moving the dirty dishes to the sink.
            “Don’t you girls worry about washing,” Sinead, the cook, said. She was a large muscular woman who acted as the all the maid’s mother, second only to Lady Watson, of course. Talia licked the gravy off her fingers from a messy person’s plate and nodded.
            “We better go back to our posts,” she said motioning to leave. “Any spot left open and Lord Devlin will torture us. There’s really nothing to see now, anyway.”
            Teagan and Talia ran back to their spot in front of the library as quickly and quietly as their hideous high-heels would allow. Both girls were thankful they were there before Lord Devlin left and he nodded to both of them as he passed with the Sir Albertson. Lady Albertson was nowhere to be seen.
            The noise of conversation was heard throughout the hall as the Devlin’s rarely closed the door to the parlor, but the words were tangled within other’s words so much that it didn’t seem to make a difference at all that the girls could eavesdrop. There was a single ding of a spoon against crystal and the noise died down. The door was shut and all other conversation was blocked from the waiting maids in the hall. A few girls dared to mutter displeasure, but they were quickly silenced as Lady Devlin came out of the parlor.
            “You girls are exempt from any other duties for the night. I will have Lady Watson lock the doors, and you are all to go to bed and not come up from your rooms until the festivities have ended tomorrow. We can stand until noon to have the rooms still unkempt. That’s an order,” she finished with uncharacterized anger. The maids quickly filed down the stairs to the basement. Some of the girls later in the line slipped off their shoes and held them expectantly under their arms.
            “Talia, dear,” Lady Devlin said sweetly as she watched the procession, “could you send Lady Watson up here?”
            Talia curtseyed as best she could in the tight skirt and went bustling off to fulfill the lady of the house’s request. Lady Devlin grabbed Teagan’s arm and pulled her off to the side, but made no motion to explain. Teagan stood next to the Lady as if she was her apprentice, their exact shade black hair and matching hazel eyes specked with gold watching the line of maids go down the stairs. Teagan noted that she was a bit taller than her mistress and her hair was cut short, like a page, upon request to keep it out of her eyes. Lady Devlin’s hair fell perfectly straight down her back, tiny braids pulling the side pieces of hair to another braid in the back. It was this perfection and the perfection in her flawless pale skin compared to Teagan’s freckled light brown that reminded Teagan of her place as a maid and not as the countess of a great sum of land that many of the guests this night borrowed.
            When the last maid had returned to her bedchambers, the heavy clomping of Lady Watson arriving was heard up the stairs. Despite her quite rotund size, Lady Watson never seemed to breath heavy or break a sweat running up and down the stairs of the mansion. This had never occurred to Teagan before until she saw her arrive at the top of the stairs. It was also the first time that Teagan had ever seen Lady Watson visibly surprised.
            “I need you to lock all of the doors to the rooms we won’t need,” Lady Devlin said. Without another warning, she grabbed Teagan’s arm and led her towards the parlor. “Stay by the door,” she whispered before opening it and walking in. No one made any move to recognize her entrance and she pulled in as swiftly as she had left to a spot close to the door next to Lord and Lady Breckenridge.
            “…and that is why I don’t think we should bring the boy back from the dead,” Lord Albertson was red at this point in his obviously long speech. His wife was shaking her head to the side of the group, but remained silent.
            “Please,” she said to the Breckenridge couple standing by the door fuming, “Ignore his antics. If the Lord Devlin believes that this course of action is for the best according to the Forces, we are not going to stand in the way.” Her final words were directed at her husband in a burning gaze of her eyes glowing with unknown intensity. Her husband moved his mouth to speak, but decided against it and closed his mouth again.
            “Ah, Lady Teagan,” Lord Devlin said walking towards her. She felt a push as some unknown force persuaded her forward into the room. “I’m glad to see you could join us. Please sit down.”
            She glanced around the room at the colorful frowning faces of expectant people. She felt as if she was a child in a doll shop that she had visited many times before, but now the dolls didn’t look right. They weren’t smiling or serene, but full of hatred and annoyance. A few expressions calmed at her presence, but many remained porcelain still. She shook her head and remained focused on Lord Devlin.
            But the more she focused on him, the more warped his image became. Who she once thought of as a powerful master, she now saw as someone struggling to keep control. He was drowning in his problems and he needed her in a last desperate attempt to keep the lands he ruled safe. She suddenly became incredibly scared, but she swallowed her fear and remained standing.
            “Does she know the story?” Lord Breckenridge asked from somewhere behind her.
            Lord Devlin shook his head. “I kept the situation secret from her, of course. She’s been a maid in my household, nothing more.”
            “Then we should tell her,” the androgynous figure said stepping out from the shadows. “Seeing as I am clearly one of a third party here, I should be the one to tell her. Does anyone object?”
            When no one answered, Lord Devlin waved his hand for the guest to continue and stepped back. Teagan followed its movements as it walked to the center of the room and gazed at the fire.
            “We’ll start it like any other story starts: Once upon a time the queen of the fairies gave birth with her human husband a boy and naturally, both worlds were outraged. It was a fragile situation to begin with since the fairies were not coping well that their king was human and the humans were not pleased that their duke’s wife was fae. Never the less, the true trouble began when the child was born for while neither race would claim him, neither race wanted the other to have him.
            “Since the child was one of both worlds, he was entitled to all of the riches therein. Anything his mother or father chose to give him upon their deaths was his. He would, also, receive the title that his parent had left behind; both races agreed upon that. So if someone interposed, they would get the fortune promised to him as well as the power over the fae and the humans.
            “I suppose this the time to mention that the duke was a very good friend of the king. In fact, this particular duke was the king’s younger brother, so, while the king did not agree with his brother marrying the queen of the fae, he was not going to ostracize him. The child being the king’s nephew, he might in fact be entitled to the throne if a few strings were pulled. If not, he was still protected by the royal family and all the riches and privileges they owned.
            “A retired knight of the current king was getting tired of owning very little land and like everyone else in the kingdom aspired to raise to a higher class. Thus being ruled by this duke, and weighing his options, he kept his eye on the duke’s son. Unfortunately for the knight, the duke’s son was murdered and, because of his particular attention to the family, the knight was accused. No one knows who the real murder is or if the knight is indeed guilty, but whatever really happened, the duke and his family became enemies with the knight’s family and threw them off their land. Another knight was given the land and eventually everything returned to normal. The first knight had managed to be given land by the king under another duke for his previous service to the king.
            “The two families remained rivals, however, especially when political ties were broken off between the fae and the humans. Trade plummeted and the land fell into famine and disaster. Eventually the king’s second brother took control of most of the land and managed to cut down the crime.
            “This brings us to the situation we have now where for political reasons between the fae, the Breckenridge and Devlin families wish to resurrect the dead prince and bring the government back to its original state.”
            Teagan nodded, her head swirling with information. “Where to I come into this?”
            Lady Devlin stepped forward and put her cold hand on Teagan’s shoulder. “I believe we should start getting preparations under way for the ceremony. The conservatory is clean and open and has a clear view to the graveyard. We’ve made it accessible for any work you need to do before hand, Sir Drummond. Everyone else, please carry on.” The androgynous guest, who Teagan assumed to be Sir Drummond, bowed deeply and walked away down the hall. Lady Devlin pulled Teagan away from the crowd to a corner in front of the windows.
            The night outside was like a snow globe. The world was surrounded by blue crystal and allowed just a hint of purple from the world beyond the glass. Just barely shining through were the tiny little lights of stars serving as the backdrop for the gigantic sparkling moon casting shadows on the garden below it. Lady Devlin stopped and sat down on the window seat under the flawless sky.
            “I suppose you’ve figured out that Lord and Lady Breckenridge are the duke and queen of the fae respectively. Sir Albertson was the knight suspected of killing the prince. My husband and I were the third party involved with restoring the land in the king’s poor health. That would mean,” she raised her hand to cut off Teagan’s interruption, “that Lord Breckenridge and my husband are brothers and kin to the king.”
            The information clicked like keys in locks and all the emotions behind the locked doors came rushing out in a whirlwind. Teagan staggered under the epiphanies. “Oh my Gods,” she whispered. Her servant instincts kicked in and she stared at dustless trampled carpeting. Lady Devlin put her hand on Teagan’s knee and waited patiently for all the shock to dissipate.
            Lady Devlin was not watching her come to, but instead, kept and eye at the crowd starting to form into groups around her. A few at the telling of the story felt bold enough to side with Sir Albertson, but would not remain by him when he suggested several times to go against the operation. An equally opposing force was Lady Breckenridge who insisted that this had to be done, not just for the good of her people, but for the human kingdom as well. Lord Devlin and Lord Breckenridge seemed to keep together with a third party not partial either way. The two strongly opposed sides stood staring at each other and whispering where the third party laughed and pretended not to notice the drastic change in aura.
            Teagan put her warm hands on Lady Devlin’s causing the Lady to snap back to the girl’s side. “But you still haven’t answered where I come in to all this.”

The Gift

            Aveline was never one for gifts or Christmas, so it took her by surprise when one day the doorbell rang and lying neatly wrapped on the doorstep was a present. She picked it up and shook it gently, but there was no sound to give away what it hid inside. The only label on the present said it was for her, but gave no clue as to the giver. She placed it next to the door and left it there.
            When she came into the house again after shopping for last minute groceries, the present was unwrapped and lying on the kitchen table. She put the packages on the counters around the room and cautiously approached the box. Opening the lid, she peered inside at a sleeping kitten. Its black and white fur seemed to shimmer as it’s tiny chest moved up and down with each breath. She reached in to pull it out and its small blue eyes opened to grumpy little slits. Its mouth opened in protest, but nothing came out. Aveline put it on the table and looked at it cautiously. The kitten stared back before jumping off the table and trotting off to the couch to sleep. She sighed and cleared off the kitchen counters. She decided to give it a week, before sending it off to her cousins in France. She couldn’t figure out what to get them anyway and they were cat lovers.
            It wasn’t until Christmas Eve that she decided to keep the kitten. She had a box all set for its delivery and was about to dial the phone to her cousins’ hotel room to inform them of their gift, when she saw the kitten sit in front of the two large, glass doors to her patio. A small girl was standing there, glowing. Her brown hair was pulled back to reveal pointed raw ears. She smiled at the kitten and bent down to touch her gloved hand to the glass where the kitten’s nose was. The kitten rubbed up against the glass purring and the girl laughed as she stroked the glass as if she could feel the fur. The phone beeped loudly that it was off the hook, startling the kitten so that it looked at her with huge blue eyes before darting off. Aveline hastily returned the phone to the cradle and looked outside at the girl, who had disappeared. She ran outside, but couldn’t find anything to prove that she had had a visitor.
            The cold was biting, but Aveline remained outside anyway, staring up at the sky. The twinkling white stars revealed nothing of what had just happened. She felt the kitten rub against her legs and she realized that this was her gift from someone who cared and truly knew the spirit of Christmas. It was then that she realized she was truly and utterly alone with millions of other people who would never see that Christmas was not about giving or getting but about joy. Serious and raw joy that one could only get by giving, not one’s money, but one’s self. She picked up the small ball of fur and brought it inside, closing the glass door behind her.

The Man Who Will Never Die

           “Do you know what you will be doing in the next 30 years?”
            She looked at him searching for an answer, but his lifeless gray eyes didn’t tell her anything.
            “I can’t predict that far into the future. You know that.”
            He looked out of the window at the people below bustling too and fro on the streets. A subtle blue light lit the city and housed the noises of honking cars and accelerator pedals.
            “No one can know for sure, Tessa. But do you know where you’re going enough to say where you’ll be in 2165?”
            “I can’t predict that far into the future. I wasn’t made for that.”
            He sighed and waved his hand. She stood up, her chrome making a hideous scrape against the metal chair and left, the wheels on her feet whirring as she passed. He pressed a button on his phone before shoving it to another corner of his desk. He leaned over to get another clean form from his filing cabinet and smoothed it on the surface before grabbing for a pen. The door opened and closed with a click and shoe soles squeaked on the spotless tile floor.
            A man about six feet sat down in the chair opposite the desk. His hair was so black it was blue and his eyes had an unusual shade of gold. His long hands folded in his lap and he leaned back his lanky frame.
            “I’m sorry, sir. I’ve been interviewing robots all day and you’ll have to make an appointment to see me another day.”
            The man nodded. “I am a robot. But I understand your misconception.”
            He looked at him again, shaking his head. “What model?”
            “The newest; BX 2137. Two years ahead of its time. By the way,” he said leaning forward. “Dr. Henson says hello.”
            The older man nodded his head and leaned back in his chair. “Did she give you a common name?”
            “Adonis.”
            “Well, I’m Dr. Johnson. I suppose you’re here to go through with the interview, so at your word we shall continue.”
            “As you will.”
            “What color is the sky?”
            “Now? I suppose black with all of the pollution. Two hundred years ago it was azure in summer, white in winter, and gray in spring.”
            “Do you know what you will be doing in the next 30 years?”
            Adonis stopped and looked out the window. “I don’t suppose I’ll be here in the next 30 years. It’s sad isn’t it; I’ll be obsolete, where as now I’m ahead of my time. I won’t die, will I? Just keep going until something inside me stops working, placed in a museum until another century passes and someone may fix me and I’ll live again. All these fake emotions and memories to just make me more of an outcast. They used to have freak shows for people like me—look at the man who will never die! He never knew love or sadness, he never saw the sky or felt the fur of an animal companion. He can’t taste, can’t feel, he’s only known the run of machines and corruption. Look at him and laugh.”
            Then he made a strange noise and his shoulders bobbed up and down like a supposed buoy. Dr Johnson leaned forward over the desk and saw tears run through Adonis’ parted fingers. He sat back down and closed his eyes. Silence is best. Looking out the windows again he saw the neon lights turn on as the artificial sky turn off into total dark. He never once did see the moon or the stars and, now that he thought about it, didn’t really know what a tree was. He admired felines, but never saw a real one. And although he was a doctor, he had no idea of disease. The world of discovery and mystery were gone and replaced with a molded artificial… hell.
            “I’m—I’m so sorry,” Dr. Johnson said, tears welling up in his eyes. “But I don’t know either. And the worst part is, there’s nowhere to go. The whole world is covered in this…plastic.”
            “I had planned,” Adonis said rubbing his tears away with his sleeve, “to run away in a space ship, but I can’t get a license for it if I want to fly non-commercial. Please don’t tell Dr. Henson I ran away. I just needed to get all of this out of my head. It’s odd.”
            “No,” Dr. Johnson said with a smile, “it’s normal.” He pulled out a pink sheet from his filing cabinet and smoothed it out on the desk. “Don’t loose this, because if anyone superfluous sees that it has my signature on it, I can lose my license.”
            Carefully and neatly, he filled it out, ignoring the tension of the other being until it was unbearable. “Just sign here,” he said pointing his finger at a line at the bottom. The scrawny young man reach for the pen and wrote his name as perfect computer font in a few seconds. He grabbed the paper and bowed deeply before leaving the room. Dr. Johnson looked out the window for the last time and shook his head. Poor kid, he thought before picking up his log sheet for Adonis and ripping it up into lop-sided strips. Clapping his hands twice, he left the office. The lights dimmed to black behind him.