Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

 

 

 

                By noon the next day, Derek and Risten had finally reached Epsilia’s grand front gate.  The city looked even more enormous close up than it was from a distance.  It was a hot day, so it felt good to be under a roof, even if for only a short moment.  Risten smiled at Derek excitedly as they went under the long archway, with loomed some twenty feet above their heads.  The stones used to build it were smooth and shiny, the colors varying from gray to black, to blue or even dark purple.  The ground beneath them was a pathway of gray brick.  The entryway led into the wide expanse of the city square. 

 

                In the center of the square was a ten-foot marble statue of a very handsome man dressed elegantly in a tunic, mantle, riding boots, and gauntlets.  He mastered a spear in his left hand, an oddly shaped blade in his right.  His long hair was pulled back in a loose braid, but his wispy bangs fluttered about his face.  A sapphire hung like a water drop on his forehead.  His eyes gazed out into the sky above him, and his expression was courageous, dignified, and calm.  He was standing upon a serpent, like Risten had seen in many depictions of saints.  Beneath the statue was a three-tiered water fountain.  Many coins had been tossed into the clear blue water.  Wishes.  A sudden hope flourished in Risten’s heart when she saw them.  She hoped that all those wishes came true.

 

                “Rautor, the Great King of Ancantha.  He was one of the Otherkind too.”  said Derek, noticing Risten’s strong attention to the statue.  She nodded without saying a word as they passed the fountain.

 

                Merchants were strutting about, pushing carts and yelling out prices at the many men and women who were hustling and bustling like a disorganized swarm of bumblebees in the early summer.  Risten saw musicians playing cheerful folk music (although none of the busy people seemed to notice them); mothers carrying baskets of food while their children held on to their skirts; young men in fine-tailored tunics courting with girls in beautiful dresses.  Their style was a compelling mixture of past and present; scattered about were a few teenage Ancanthians, who, like Risten and Derek, were dressed just as any teenager would in the United States.  But they didn’t stick out of the crowd at all.  Ancantha was such an interesting place.

 

                “You hungry, Risten?”  said Derek, snapping her out of her daydreams.

 

                “Um, yeah, actually.”  she said, her fingers playing with the frayed edge of her jean skirt.

 

                “Great.  I know an awesome little café down this road where we can get some lunch.”

 

                “Cool.”

 

                They strolled down the road, Derek telling stories about Rautor and the early days of Ancantha.  Risten held his hand, smiling and listening attentively to everything he had to say.

 

                Even though she knew she wasn’t, Risten felt so normal.  A normal, everyday, sixteen year old girl going out to lunch with her boyfriend.  She grinned through her blank stare.

 

                “What’s up?”  said Derek, noticing her.  Risten’s eyes refocused and she glanced at him.

 

                “Nothing.”  she said, shrugging it off,  “That hat looks really cute on you.”

 

~*~

 

Amatheia.  What a strange name for a café.  It sounded more like a sister country to Ancantha or something.  The interior of the restaurant was decorated in a semi-Victorian, semi-elfish, semi-faeish style.  The cherry wood bar and floor, columns, and crown molding around the ceiling, and elaborately carved and painted furniture.  Each table had a uniquely shaped vase containing a different flower, none of which Risten had ever seen before.  She looked up; the ceiling was covered in beautiful paintings of faeries and nature.  Derek led Risten to a table in the corner, where a portrait of an elf woman hung on the wall.  Risten rummaged around in her bag, she had no money.

 

                “I’m sorry, Derek, I’m out of money.”  she said remorsefully.

 

                Derek snorted.  “Don’t worry about it, love.  This is our first real date.”  He quoted ‘real’ with his fingers,  “It’s on me.”  He winked cockily at her.  She rolled her eyes, and then began to study the vase on the table.  It was circular-shaped with a hole in the middle, like a donut.  It was colored the blue of the sky, and in it rested a pompously large lavender peony.

 

                A short, pretty young woman with a head of curly blond hair appeared by their table, dressed in a powder blue t-shirt and a billowy, chocolate-colored skirt.  The brownish patterns on her shirt were so intricate that one could get a headache if they tried to follow it.  She sat a pair of menus before Derek and Risten, along with two glasses of raspberry ice tea.

 

                “Good afternoon.”  she said, in a pleasantly high voice.  “Welcome to Amatheia�"oh my gosh!  Derek?”  she stopped short, clearly taken aback.  She and Derek stared at each other for a moment.

 

                “Halie!  Good to see you!”  said Derek cheerfully.  Risten felt a pang in her gut at the fondness in his voice.  He noticed.  “Halie, this is my girlfriend, Risten.  Risten, my cousin, Halie.”  Risten instantly felt better.  And she loved how he said girlfriend.

 

                “Oh yeah, I’ve heard of you!  The new Otherkind, that’s so cool.”  said Halie.  Oh, okay, so a new Otherkind was an everyday occurrence?

 

                Risten couldn’t see any resemblance between the two besides their blue eyes, which even that didn’t quite match. 

 

                “Nice to meet you.”  Risten said, smiling.

 

                “Likewise!  Yup…Derek is like my third cousin…uh…something like that.  Anyway, I’ll be right back to take your order.”  And she dashed into the kitchen.

 

                “She’s such a spazz.”  said Derek admiringly, shaking his head. 

 

                “You’re such a liar.”  Risten said, leaning on her hand.

 

                Derek raised his eyebrows.  “What?”

 

                “You told me you didn’t have any family.”

                “Come on, Risten, although I consider her to be, she’s hardly family.  She’s my uncle’s daughter’s daughter�"on my mother’s side.”  he shrugged.  Risten secretly wanted to know what Derek’s parents were like, but she knew this wasn’t the right time to ask something like that.

 

                “Derek, how often do humans become to Otherkind?”  she asked instead.

 

                “It’s not definite.  There’s no set time.  It’s usually one a year, but sometimes there are two, or none.  Nobody really knows how that whole thing works.  Just one of the many mysteries of Ancantha, I guess.”

 

                “So, what would you like to eat?”  asked Halie, with a notepad and pen ready in her hands.

 

                Derek ordered a cheeseburger with no mayo and natural-cut fries, while Risten settled for a Caesar-style salad.  They shared a slice of Amatheia’s ‘famous’ raspberry cheesecake for dessert.  The café seemed to be quite proud of their raspberries.  Halie managed to find a spare moment after they had eaten to sit and chat.

 

                “So, what are you guys up to?”  she said, pulling up a chair beside Risten.

 

                “It’s kind of complicated…”  said Derek thoughtfully.  It was obvious that Risten was about to say the same thing.

 

                “Oh, complicated, gotcha.”  she drawled, tapping her metallic blue nails on the wooden table.  “So are you looking for the women’s’ clinic?”

 

                Derek covered his face with his hand.  Everyone in the café was probably looking at their table now.  He wanted to groan, but a laugh bubbled in his throat.  He coughed to get it out.  To his surprise, Risten burst out laughing.

 

                “Uhh, no, not that kind of complicated.”  she said; both she and Halie were practically tearing.  Luckily no one else in the room had noticed, they were all eating and drinking, and talking and laughing as they were.  Halie sighed and nudged Risten’s shoulder.

 

                “I’m only teasing.  But heed my warning, girl, once he’s inspired, Derek gets real passionate.  And I won’t be there to hold him down for you.”  said Halie, somewhat proudly.

 

                “Don’t worry; I can hold him down myself.”  said Risten, enjoying the female acquaintance for a change.  Derek glared at her, his cheeks flushed.

 

                “Ha!  You got something special here, Derek, my man.”  continued Halie, standing up with a stretch.  She lowered herself to Derek’s ear.  “Don’t you screw this up.  I’ll kill you.”  she whispered, with an amused lilt to her voice.  “Weeell, I gotta run.  Sunday dinner is such a rush around here.  Seriously, I’ll probably be waiting like ten tables at once.  See ya cuz, and nice meeting you, Risten!”  Risten waved, and suddenly, a loud crash from the waiting room towards the front of the building silenced the restaurant.   Halie stopped in her tracks, her flip flops scuffing against the wood floor.  Everyone was looking towards the noise. 

 

                Derek and Risten stood up, both of them sensing a strong evil presence.  Why couldn’t they sense it before?  They should’ve had the perception much earlier than they did, especially Derek.  But they both could feel it now.  With every passing second, it seemed to grow stronger.  Then the front doors swung open, and in walked two very tall, cloaked creatures.  Black smoke leaked out from under their hoods and cloaks, and from their wide sleeves.  Chains were wrapped around their waists, from which long scabbards bearing eerie-looking blades hung.  Nobody in the room dared to breathe.  Dead silence rang in Risten’s ears.

 

                Derek nearly fell back, clutching behind his neck.  Risten glanced at him.  He put his finger to his lips and shook his head.  Risten swallowed hard, and her heart began to beat too fast for comfort.

Those things had come for him.

 

~*~

 

Halie had backed up against a table, looking uncharacteristically serious.  Not afraid, but serious.

 

                Derek…what have you gotten yourself into now?  Risten heard her say.  Apparently she wanted her to hear that as well.  She looked at Derek through the corner of her eyes. Don’t look at me like that, those things are demons!  They can’t hear us; they don’t have the mental ability.  Risten didn’t like this sudden idea of demons.  How is this happening?  Demons haven’t been seen since…  She stopped there and sighed audibly as one of the dark figures came into the room, the other one following close behind.  The people just stared, their faces distraught with fear.

 

                The one in front seemed to be the leader, as the other let him do everything first.  It walked, no; it floated between the tables, glaring at each person he passed with intense red eyes.  It approached Risten, and studied her face.  He looked kind of humanish, putting the gray skin with strange swirling patterns tattooed on it, horns on the forehead, and claw-like fingernails aside.  His unrealistic good looks reminded Risten of Arias.

 

                The demon grinned with a haughty noise, baring sharp teeth.  “Heh, the new Otherkind…”  he said, in a throaty sort of voice that seemed to echo in Risten’s mind as it did in her ears.  Despite her heart beating tumultuously, she remained still and calm.  She just stared up at the demon, ready to burn him down if she had to.

 

                We will come back for you.  He said, startling her mind.  Wait, didn’t Halie say that demon’s couldn’t hear thoughts?  The demon-thing stepped around Risten and lowered his chin at the sight of Derek, who was looking away, breathing heavily, with one hand behind his neck.

 

                His scar.  This creature has something to do with his scar.  Thought Risten.  She swallowed dryly as she watched the demon pull a long, blackened silver blade the scabbard on his hip.

 

                You die now.  He said.  Lunging forward, he aimed for Derek’s heart, but a nearly blinding flash of light from Halie threw him backwards against the easternmost wall, knocking down a pair of paintings.  Glass shattered and spread across the floor.

 

                “A lightning bearer!”  cried the demon, and in an instant, the whole room went into panic.  People ran about, screaming, knocking over tables and chairs.  Risten had a sudden perception of death and turned sharply, but gasped and had to shut her eyes as the other demon killed a young couple and several other people who had attempted to escape.  Their screams pierced her ears and heart.  That could’ve been her and Derek.

 

                “Risten!  Get that one!”  cried Halie, pointing.  Risten was ready.  Flames burst from her palms, and she ran towards the demon.  He faced her and shrieked wickedly.  Man.  This one was ugly.  He was shorter and fatter, with large, drooping cheeks and yellow teeth.  He reminded Risten of a bulldog.  She shuddered briefly and struck him in the face with her enflamed fist.  He reeled back, but pulled out his blade and slashed in Risten’s direction.  She curved over and stepped back simultaneously, the blade had come way too close to her stomach.  Despite his slipshod appearance, he had good aim.  Behind her, she heard what sounded like an eel electrocuting its prey to death. 

 

                Risten also heard a yell, and she glanced up, Derek had been thrown right over her head into a potted plant near the entryway.  The clay shattered and he sat there against the wall in a pile of soil and bamboo leaves.

 

                “Dere-!“  she sidestepped from another possible slash of death, the demon laughing hysterically.

 

                “I’m your enemy, pretty; you’d better pay more attention to me.”  he said, sneering at her with his awful smile.  She stole a glance at Derek; he signaled that he was all right.

 

                The demon continued to hack murderously with his wicked-looking knife, nearly grazing Risten once or twice.

 

                “Okay, you know what?”  growled Risten haughtily, “You’re done.”  She feigned a right hook, which the demon fell for, and she grabbed his sword arm with a scorching hot hand.  He shrieked, piercing Risten’s right ear.  She kneed his elbow, and his knife went flying out of his hand. 

 

                Derek caught it with one hand, twirled it between his fingers, and with a barely audible fwwitt, he had slit the throat of the demon.  They heard Halie yell, and the other demon landed in a heap right on top of his partner.  Risten looked back; Halie herself looked as if she had been electrocuted.  She popped her neck.

 

                “Ha!  Sucka!  Kiss my a*s, you�"“

 

                “Okay, Halie.”  said Derek, looking serious.  Risten touched his arm.

 

                “What’s is it?”  she said.  He didn’t let his eyes meet hers.  Halie just stood back, with her arms crossed.

               

                “Well, Risten, considering everything that just happened, how should I be feeling?”  he snapped, turning away.

 

                Risten frowned.  “Derek, what were those things?”

 

                Derek took a deep breath.  “They’re humans, who were bitten by fledglings.  Come on, Risten, we should get to the castle.”

 

~*~

 

Derek and Risten couldn’t escape explaining to Halie what was going on.  How Risten was cursed with nightmares, how Sebastian could be her brother, and such.

 

                “Wow…prophetic nightmares…that’s really strange.  Something’s darn right fishy about this.”  said Halie after the explanation.  The three were sitting on the fourth of fifty steps that lead up to the castle’s front gate.  “You know what I think?  I think someone is placing these nightmares into your mind, Risten.  They aren’t natural.”

 

                Derek stirred, but didn’t say a word.  He had been quiet since leaving Amatheia.

 

                Risten, on the other hand, was curious.  “Placing?  What do you mean?”

 

                “I mean somebody who has some serious dark magic is giving you these nightmares.  Trying to make you afraid, maybe.  And why do I get the feeling that those demon-human-fledgling things have something to do with the same person?”  She glanced then at Derek, as if she expected him to answer.  Risten couldn’t help but notice that she looked a little frustrated now.

 

                “Tell her, Derek.”  Halie said in a low voice, or low for her, anyway.  Derek shook his head and leaned back against another step.  Risten turned on him.

 

                “Tell me what?”  she said.  Derek managed to look her in the eyes, although all amusement was gone in his.  All that was left was a bright cerulean that burned with indignation and a slight of fear.

 

                Derek heaved a breath.  “Clemenstra.”  he said.

 

                “Who’s that?”  said Risten, assuming it was a person.

 

                “Clemenstra is a sorceress who has lived for many years in Ancantha.  She is wicked and cruel, and she has killed many, many people.  She killed her husband, and…my parents…”  he paused there and moistened his dry lips.  “All of her life she’s been trying to formulate a way to revive the Fledgling race, which practically died out after the Raven’s War about twenty years ago.  She was severely weakened after she battled my father, who then was the lieutenant of the Elven Army.   She went into hiding, still vowing to revive her precious race, and disappeared.  Then, out of nowhere, she emerged momentarily, and murdered both of my parents within a single night.”

 

                I was two at the time, and I was placed in the care of a trusted family who lived in Koto.  I trained with them and mastered my magic, among other things.  When I was thirteen, Clemenstra appeared again, like a seasonal illness, and killed my caretakers.  She speared the parents, hung the older sister, and my friend Jonathan…she cursed the once pure waters of Mira, and drowned him.  She even killed the baby,”  Derek almost sobbed at that, “She burned it to death.”

 

                Halie couldn’t help the tears that streamed down her face, smearing her makeup.  But Risten wasn’t crying at all.  She was angry.  She didn’t like the idea of this sorceress at all.

 

                “I was too young then…I was no match for Clemenstra, so I ran away.  I ran to Epsilia, and hid there for a while.  Meanwhile, Clemenstra had cursed Rellasmïr and made the White Forest her headquarters.  To this day, people don’t dare to enter Rellasmïr.  It’s far too dangerous with her around.  Anyway, I got a job in Epsilia as a craftsman’s assistant and worked there for two years to make some money.  When I returned to Kellereth, I fixed up the destroyed house and made it my own.  I swore right then and there that if I ever saw that witch again, I would kill her.  Sure enough, I got my chance, but Clemenstra didn’t seem like she had any intention of fighting anyone.  In fact, she didn’t look like she was in any condition to fight anyone.  I suspect that she was working on some of projects.”  He paused for a moment to recollect his thoughts.  “Instead, I ended up in a pointless scuffle with her brainless son… Brennan.”  Risten’s eyebrows rose and she swallowed a breath.  More kindling.  She felt as if the fire would burst from her veins.  She breathed deeply to calm herself.

 

                “I got badly injured, as I told you, Risten.”  continued Derek, rubbing the back of his neck.  “Luckily I survived.  If I hadn’t been healed, even if only partially, I could’ve become one of those creatures that attacked us in the restaurant.  Or I could’ve died, either way.  Brennan had escaped our fight, but not without a scar of his own.  Now both he and his mother are hiding out somewhere in Rellasmïr.”  He sighed and shook his head gravely.  “It used to be a very beautiful place, the White Forest…”

 

                “Okay, I get this.  Clemenstra is a total b***h.  What does this have to do with my nightmares though?”

 

                “I’m still not exactly sure what she wants with you, but I could bet my life that she’s using you to get to me.”  Derek paused for a deep breath and looked at Halie momentarily.  She looked uncomfortable.  “She won’t forgive my father for wounding her, and she won’t forgive me for wounding her son.  It’s a simple as that.”

 

                Risten stood up and glared at the castle.  “First things first, I have to confirm that the prince is my brother.  If Clemenstra has anything to do with the fact that he’s ill…”  She laughed humorlessly and sniffed, an expression of repressed fury quavering her features.

 

                “She’s dead meat.”