Read Weeping Willow (Part One) Page 2


  “I can sense your concern... and I am not without heart,” she said, taking her seat. “We have already scoured the Earth in search of your precious Willow. I will send a small search party to look for her once again. If nothing, it will prove to you that she is gone, and you can move on with your life.”

  * * * * *

  CHLOË:

  I woke up the next morning and headed downstairs. All sorts of wonderful smells were wafting from the back of the house. When I walked into the kitchen, I saw my mother was busy preparing breakfast. “Good morning,” I said, taking a seat at the table.

  “Good morning,” she replied, not looking up from the eggs she was frying.

  I took in my mother’s appearance. It looked as if she hadn’t slept all night. She was wearing an apron over her pajamas. Her hair was a mess. Her eyes seemed puffy.

  “Did you sleep well?” I asked as if I didn’t already know the answer.

  She moved the frying pan from the stove and placed some eggs on a plate. “No, I didn’t,” she responded, walking towards me and placing the plate in front of me.

  Avoiding eye contact, I didn’t have the courage to ask her what happened last night. I didn’t know how to start the conversation. I was terribly embarrassed by what I had done, and yet, I didn’t even understand the ramifications of my actions. As far as I knew, I didn’t do anything unusual. Yet, my mother had said that I “summoned” someone.

  My mom stuffed her hand in the pocket of her apron and pulled out my necklace. She held it out to me and said, “What are we going to do about this?”

  “Did you fix it?” I inquired, reaching out and attempting to grab it.

  “No,” she answered, moving it away from my reach.

  Raising an eyebrow, I asked, “Can I have my necklace back?”

  She took a seat next to me. “I wanted to talk to you,” she said with a look of concern on her face.

  “About last night?” I asked, watching her mannerisms closely.

  “Yes,” she replied.

  I could feel my heart begin to quicken. “Did I do something bad?”

  Placing my necklace on the table, she looked down at it, appearing anxious.

  With some trepidation, I questioned, “Did I do something wrong?”

  “I don’t want you to feel guilty,” she said, petting my head. “I didn’t realize what I was saying last night.”

  “It was glowing,” I said, motioning towards the necklace.

  My mother’s eyes were drawn back to the table. “You can’t keep it, Chloë,” she said, out of nowhere.

  “What?” I asked, outraged. “I’ve had it all my life. It is my only piece of jewelry!”

  “It is not jewelry,” she said, taking the necklace into her hands and walking over to the counter with it.

  Stumbling out of my seat, I chased after her. “What are you going to do?”

  I watched in horror as she placed the necklace on the counter. In one swift movement, she lifted the frying pan from the stove and brought it down on the crystal pendant, shattering it into a million pieces.

  “No!” I screamed, feeling tears spring forth from my eyes.

  “It is for your own good, darling,” she said calmly and walked out of the kitchen.

  I picked up the dust of my pulverized amethyst pendant. Tears streaming down my face, I silently wondered, who was this woman I was living with, and where did my mother go?

  * * * * *

  NALIN:

  As soon as dawn broke, I rode Arion through the woods to the old cottage. I hadn’t been back there since it had been set ablaze. Not since the night the war had been rekindled between the Sons of Heaven and the Sons of the Earth.

  I lowered myself to the ground, looking up at the cottage.

  The small building was in ruins. It had been almost a hundred years since the fire had ravaged its timbers. It was a beautiful structure once. I created it with a form of sorcery I knew well; the power to manipulate nature. The limbs of the willow tree were lengthened and twisted until they formed the frame of the structure. Its draping leaves formed the roof above, spreading open only on starry nights. Although contorted, the tree was still alive until the night of the fire.

  “Stay here, Arion,” I told the horse, removing my gloves and walking towards the threshold.

  When I entered, I looked around, trying to remember it as I had seen it last, but its current state of ruin made such a task difficult. Fresh snow covered every surface. The roof was gone as if the lid had been taken off a trinket box, and the walls had crumbled in the inferno. Mother Nature was reclaiming her creation, but I could still smell the stench of burned wood, assaulting my nostrils.

  I knew what I had come to find. Without further hesitation, I walked to the center of the one room structure, removing debris until I reached what would have been the floor. Tirelessly, I uncovered as much as I could until I found it, a large, rectangular scorch mark.

  Kneeling down, I traced over it with my hand. My muscles tensed. I could still feel the energy evoked in order to make such a marking. Such sorcery was forbidden. How could Willow have escaped? A door had been opened, but by whom?

  Anger rose within me as I realized that I had been tricked. Someone took her away from me. Perhaps this person lit the cottage on fire to cover their sorcery.

  I decided then that I would tell no one of my findings. Instead, I would open another door and find Willow in secret. I vowed that I would not stop until I had found her and brought her home.

  * * * * *

  CHLOË:

  A month had past since my mother smashed my amulet, and I caught myself numerous times feeling for it around my neck. I had to repeat the obvious to myself daily. It was not there, and it wouldn’t be there ever again. I rarely cared for material things, but this necklace was special. It was a part of me somehow. I felt lost without it.

  Curled up on the couch, I flipped through the channels on the television, hoping to find something good enough to watch. My mother had been gone for about an hour, and I was expecting her to walk through the door at any minute.

  Suddenly, I heard a noise upstairs. It sounded like normal groans of a settling house so it didn’t raise any suspicions.

  “It’s just a noisy floorboard, Chloë,” I told myself, continuing to flip through the channels.

  The second time I heard the sound it was more distinct and solid like something large dropping on the floor above my head. I looked up at the ceiling instantly, feeling my insides begin to shake.

  Switching off the television, I carefully stood up. It might have been nothing, but I wasn’t going to take any chances. I glanced at the umbrella stand by the front door. I put my wooden baseball bat there the day before. Stealthily, I walked over and grabbed the bat. I slowly ascended the stairs with my bat in hand. The landing was clear of intruders so I peeked around the corner.

  The hallway was empty. However, I could distinctly hear someone rummaging through our things, but I couldn’t determine exactly where the intruder was. I treaded lightly, sticking close to the wall.

  When I reached the end of the first part of the corridor, I peeked around another corner of the ‘L’ shaped hall that led to unused bedrooms. With a large window illuminating the darkness, I cautiously looked down the hall.

  Along the far wall, I was startled to see a large, rectangular door I had never seen before. It was unlike all the others that filled the house. Large boulders framed the door frame like molding. The door was made of metal and was at least eight feet tall. There were two frosted, glass windows that were covered with sturdy iron bars. The light that escaped from the windows and the bottom of the door was orange like fire, shimmering as if sprinkled with specks of gold.

  Leaning towards it, I touched the metal knob. Within seconds, the signal of excruciating pain shot through my nervous system as the metal knob was burned the top layer of my flesh, branding my palm. I jumped back, cradling my hand close to my torso.

  I couldn’t explain
the new door. Perhaps I just never noticed it before. But, then, why was the handle so hot?

  I decided to explore it later.

  Avoiding the new door, I walked slowly to the room at the end of the hall. I realized quickly that the noises I had heard originated from that room. Ready to inflict the first blow, I held the bat in a swinging position despite of my injured hand.

  Ignoring my pain, I took my first step inside the room, adrenaline pumping through my veins. It was bright as the sunlight beamed through the grimy windows, unobstructed by curtains. Old furniture was stuffed into the small storage room and covered with white sheets, appearing like ghosts.

  I fearfully stepped further into the room. I could hear something at the other end so I took another step. Then another step and then another until I was at the close to an adjacent wall. Something was covered with a sheet. It was tall and thin. It could have been a man.

  My heart began to race as I noticed the sheet was moving slowly. In one fluid motion, I uncovered it while holding the bat firmly. A large mouse squealed at the discovery of its hiding place and ran across the room.

  Holding my chest, I looked at what I had uncovered. I got all worked up over an old, wooden coat rack. Slowly, I let out the breath that I had been holding in my lungs. “It is just a coat rack, Chloë,” I told myself. “Such an idiot.”

  Without warning, the floor creaked behind me, and I could feel the wooden boards bend to accommodate a heavy mass. Nearly dropping the bat, I spun around and gasped.

  A large, man towered over me, standing at roughly six foot seven. Although his face was twisted in a grimace, he was quite handsome. His waist-length, black hair fell limply across his back, framing angular jaw and deep-set, green eyes. His skin was a light shade of caramel and free of blemishes. Starting at his brow and covering most of his forehead, the figure wore a crown which was like a thick, metal band with a red, oval jewel at its center. He wore a metal breastplate that seemed to have been beaten and molded to his form. It was coupled with baggy, brown breeches and black riding boots that reached his kneecaps.

  “Don't come near me,” I shouted at him, shaking. “I have a bat!”

  He laughed evilly.

  “Who―What are you?” I asked, ready to swing.

  “You are such a little thing,” he said menacingly, his voice deep and musical. “A little thing that started a big war.”

  “Get out of my house,” I yelled as my heart leaped into my mouth. “I won’t ask you again!”

  “You cannot even wield a weapon,” he stated smugly, inching closer to me.

  I didn’t lower the bat although I could see that it was shaking in my unsteady grasp. Cursing myself, I just could not keep my hands from trembling. “Don’t think for one minute that I won’t use this on you.”

  Without warning, he stepped forward, grabbing the bat from me and flinging it against the wall.

  Like a spooked animal, I gasped and instantly started running.

  The stranger made no attempt to run after me. Instead, he trailed behind me, using his large gait to the fullest extent and bridging the gap between us at a steady pace. His face filled with excitement as if he wanted to play with me before crushing me with his boot.

  Before I even grasped the situation fully, I had already reached the stairs and flung myself down, landing at the base. I exploded out the front door as if I had been propelled by a canon and ran for my life.

  * * * * *

  CHLOË:

  I ran until I reached town. I didn’t know what I was going to do. My first instinct was to find my mom. Rushing through the streets, I glanced through the windows of the shops anxiously. Bumping into a few shoppers, I decreased my pace, trying to get a grip on my beating heart.

  “Can I help you?” a strong voice asked behind me.

  I turned and saw a uniformed police officer. Before I could beat myself up for my erratic behavior, my eyes met the officer’s green eyes, and my heart stopped.

  It was him!

  It was the intruder, disguised as a police officer! He had found me.

  Before I could scream, I was pushed into an alleyway between two shops. I tried to run, but his body blocked mine. I backed into the alley, and he took steps towards me, bridging the gap. Suddenly mute, I lifted my hand to my throat, willing a scream to escape my lips. Hyperventilating, I couldn’t get enough air in my lungs to scream. Frantic, my eyes darted behind him to the street, but it seemed that all the shoppers that had filled the streets, only moments before, were gone.

  Without warning, he flung himself at me, grabbing my arm roughly.

  Struggling to break free from his iron grip, I dug my heels in the ground and tried to twist free. But he wouldn’t let go! The more I resisted him the tighter his grip on my arm became.

  While restraining me, he removed a fist full of red powder from his pocket. I watched as he threw it at the foot of an adjacent brick wall.

  Almost instantly, the air around me grew warm.

  Stunned, I glanced at the wall and watched as a door began to form before my eyes. I momentarily stopped struggling. I watched in awe as the same metal door that had suddenly appeared in my house formed in the alley. My mind couldn’t grapple with what my eyes had seen. It was as if all the laws of physics had been bent by a force I couldn’t quite understand.

  As if in a trance, my body went slack. I reawakened when my would-be abductor reached for the knob. I began to resist his grip again, throwing kicks at him and landing a few.

  Without warning, the roar of a motor shattered the silence around us. Feeling some semblance of relief pour through me, I glanced down the alleyway to see a motorcycle coming towards us at full speed.

  I watched as the helmeted biker jumped off the motorcycle, landing on his feet and letting the bike flip over with its motor still running. By the time the bike stopped sliding across the pavement, it was dented and probably unusable.

  Removing his helmet in a swift motion, the biker pulled out a metallic stick and held it in front of him. It was the size of a ruler and etched with ancient symbols. As if by magic, two blades as long as swords appeared at both ends.

  Stunned, I took in the biker’s appearance, finding myself in awe of him. He was quite tall, standing at around six foot five. He was clad in leather from head to toe, but didn’t appear to be a typical biker. He was agile on his feet. His skin was like porcelain and as smooth as glass. His sparkling, blue eyes were deep set. Cropped black hair framed his light features well. He looked more like a model than a biker or a ninja for that matter.

  The officer threw me on the ground and withdrew his own weapon. As if created by air, a curved sword appeared in his hands.

  My heart leaped into my throat as they began circling one another. Within seconds, they collided. As weapons clashed, I screamed, finding my voice once again.

  Trying to avoid becoming decapitated, I crawled out of the alleyway on my hands and knees. As I reached the end of the alley, I climbed to my feet swiftly, finding the streets empty around me. Hearing the clashing of metal in my ears, I glanced back to see the fight was evenly matched as both seemed to know how to wield a sword. I watched as the biker blocked his opponent’s sword with his blade, taking advantage of his position and kneeing his adversary in the stomach.

  The officer went with the momentum of his falling body. Once he was on the ground, he swept his legs through the biker’s, tripping him and bringing him down to the ground.

  My heart jumped. It dawned on me that the biker was somehow protecting me. If he were to fail in his mission, I would be open to attack. Fear trickling back into my numb body, I ran in the direction of home, hoping my mother was there so that I could warn her.

  * * * * *

  CHLOË:

  “Mom!” I shouted, flinging the front door open and running into the house.

  Frantic, my mother appeared in the front hall. “Where have you been, Chloë?”

  I dashed across the space that separated us and hugged her
tightly. “We have to leave here! We’re not safe,” I cried, trembling.

  “What is going on?” she asked, her voice strained. She pulled me away from her. With her hands clenched around my shoulders, she questioned me with her eyes.

  “There was a man in the house! He was in one of the rooms upstairs, and there was this... door. I don’t know where it came from,” I said without breathing.

  I watched my mother as her eyes seemed to spark to life. “A door?” she asked, her voice steady.

  I shook my head. “I went to look for you, and he found me! He was dressed like a police officer,” I said, unable to contain my fear. “We have to go! I don’t know how much longer the biker can hold him back!”

  My mother embraced me. “Shhh. It’s going to be alright.”

  I felt myself burst into tears. “He’s going to come back for us!”

  “How do you know?”

  “I just know,” I told her firmly.

  “I don’t think so.”

  “How can you say that?” I asked, trying to pull away from her, but she held me tightly.

  Rubbing my back, my mother told me, “No one is after you. It’s alright.”

  Suddenly, I felt warmth emanate from her touch. The tension in my body dissipated slowly, and I felt my limbs go slack. Leaning against her for support, my mind began to cloud over as if I had been drugged. “Mom?” I whispered, feeling my body grow numb.

  She eased my body to the wooden floor. “You’re just tired, darling. Rest, and when you wake up, everything will be fine,” she said soothingly, petting my head.

  My eyes closed, and I was instantly surrounded by darkness.

  * * * * *

  NALIN:

  I saw her as she ran out of the gate; a gate that lead to an isolated manor on a hill. She appeared frightened, and I had to follow her. I had no idea that she was being pursued by Callan. How did he know Willow was alive? Had he been holding her captive?

  I had hoped to find her alone. Following my gut and the pulsation of light from my ring through the realms, I found this town on the human Earth. We were linked which made tracking her easier now that I knew she was alive. Seeing her again, even for a few fleeting moments, made my heart stop. I was overwhelmed with a feeling although I couldn’t comprehend which one. I had found my twin soul, and we were at the cusp of meeting once again.