Start: Prologue.

 

It was just one of those days; it was warm, hazy, and humid, the kind of day where one could stride around half naked, or given that you were a female, very scantily clad.. In short, it was a stereotypical summer’s day. It had everything, bees, wasps, annoying little Bluebottles that seemed to dance around in random patterns in even more randomised patches of non-occupied air, providing there was something relatively sweet smelling and attractive close by, yes; it was just the perfect atmosphere in the sleepy area of Stoke-on-Trent, England.

The coffin was rested in the centre of the great lawn of Sati Kezuka’s estate. All around were family members, friends, and associates, even a few enemies scattered the grounds, paying their respects, all dawned in black, their shapes of all sizes.

Sati had once been one of Staffordshire’s, if not, England’s foremost leading mages. Of course, there was her son there, among the crowd, Toka, he himself was a mage, but yet had far to reach in her mothers footsteps.

Toka nowadays seemed too busy and pre-occupied with his family life to take any notice of his heritance – His marriage to Kayleigh, the priestess mage had left him with a single child, a girl, Rhiannon. He had to work for all of them, as Kayleigh’s line of work drew hardly any, if little income.

Sati’s name had once enforced fear into those who had knowledge of it, and those who didn’t, well; it wasn’t soon until they did.

Toka looked down into the coffin; his face seemed pale, almost like silk, yet more rugged. His tufted thick blonde hair, set in chunky spikes that seemed to dominate his features blew in clumped strands with the warm summer’s breeze. Next to him stood his wife Kayleigh, and in her arms, looking down innocently, Rhiannon.

All their eyes were locked on the quiet, still, stiff upper lip of their departed family member.

“So enters the age of Toka.” Kayleigh muttered under her breath; her voice was soft and lofty – almost a dream like tone.

Toka pretended not to hear her. There was a long pause, before someone spoke, surprisingly; it was Rhiannon, the daughter, of only five years of age.

“Mummy, I want to go and play…”

Kayleigh looked for a moment at her, then back to the coffin. There was a brief nod and then she bent down, letting Rhiannon’s feet press against the warm grass. She had small sandals on; the long grass touched and tickled her toes.

“Don’t go far...” Kayleigh urged as she straightened her body and moved her gaze distantly back to the corpse. “Mummy and Daddy need five minutes alone.”

“I won’t.” Rhiannon looked up and smiled proudly. She didn’t think her mother would have let her down, not at this occasion, but, apparently she underestimated her parent’s emotions. Her father wasn’t even saying a word, it was beyond rare.

Kayleigh sighed as she extended out an arm. Her hand entwined with Toka’s, who for the first time turned his sight away from his still mother. All around him it seemed there was death, death and silence – Not the usual silence, more like a condoning tone which accompanied familiar, and non familiar faces and voices, the brief sentences which relayed their sorrow for his.

 Enveloping him was just the noisy background of his thoughts. In life, this woman, his mother, had been so powerful, so cold, so stiff, but yet, so caring, and so enlightened. It was hard to think of her, as just, gone, from existence like some stain finally being plucked from the toughest of materials.

Toka grunted under his breath. A stain, he thought, a stain, his mother wasn’t a stain, though she did seem to airily cling to life like a pigeon would cling to bread. But it was all over now.

“She would have had an easy passing…” Kayleigh started to go on, soothing her beloved in his most confused and needing time, but further up the estate, heading into the large villa styled building, situated at the end of the two seemingly endless parallel lines of tables, adorning all kinds of foods and beautifully decorated vessels of all shapes and sizes, Rhiannon crept between the two giant marble pillars, pressing open with her hand, one of the great varnished oak doors with the cast iron fittings, shaped with natural curves, similar to the shapes of holly leaves, then sunk inside the darkness.

Rhiannon knew what she wanted to do. Deep inside the house, up the grand staircase, to the left, down the dirty styled wood panelled corridor, to the left again, and then, three doors to the right, there was one room that she was always stopped from entering, every time she seemed to get near, someone, or something would appear to snatch her away. Once, she had managed to open the door so much to peek inside, but then she was stopped in her tracks by her grandmother’s arms and that familiar warm embrace.

Just as soon as Rhiannon climbed the stairs, and turned to face the left corridor, the door she had just entered, eased open, and two characters side stepped into the main hallway. Rhiannon hit the floor faster then she thought possible. Her elbows sank into the strip of carpet that lay across the wooden floor that made up the landing of the stairs. She pulled herself forwards, until her forehead pressed against the banister rails, the wooden columns, roughly the thickness of Rhiannon’s fist, set six inches apart from each other and joined at the top by a smoothed line of wood, decorated with brass sidings which made up the elegant hand rail.

 At first as Rhiannon peered down, the door’s shadow cloaked the pair in darkness, but soon, one familiar person slinked out of the mask of shadows, it was her father’s friend, Sanguis Charles. She could make out the second person now too; it was a woman, one of the women associative of his fathers too, though Rhiannon had only seen her, never before though find out her name. Part of her wanted to go ask, but, she resisted, knowing in almost probability that it would end with her expulsion from the building. So quietly, she got up, the pair seemed to be hugging she thought, and kissing, she heard a laugh, but then Rhiannon corrected herself, it must have been a sob.

She must be very sad, lots of people are. She thought to herself as she straightened, brushing off the layers of dust that had collected from the neglected floor. She tipped toed down the corridor, following it down, until she turned right, her hand outstretched and touched against the nearest door, then the next, until finally, there on the left, her hand was against it, the third door.

A tingle raced through her spine, shooting up into the back of her head that made her quake and pause where she stood, but after shaking off the feeling, her hand pressed open the door. The catch clicked, and the hinges squeaked. It was no matter of time at all, until the door was sufficiently opened enough to allow her body to snake between the frame and the door.

Inside, the darkness seemed over whelming, yet, there was a dim light spreading up the walls from small shades fixed against the cream coloured wallpaper. As her eyes adjusted, she looked around, and as she did, she realised that the room appeared to be smaller then she’d expected, not anymore then six people would be able to be in this room at once. Apart from that, the room gave the impression that it’s use was to be a trophy room, as two large cabinets lay against the far wall, and the wall to her right. Each boasted a pair glass panels covering its contents, and they both stood at least three times higher then Rhiannon herself. She realised too, that each cabinet was lit independently, with a cool blue light, oddly out of place in a house so vastly traditional and old, it was a wonder that the room itself had lights, or even electricity.

When she looked closer, she realised that what she saw wasn’t electric in the cabinets; they were channels of blue flame. But still, on looking even closer, she saw that the fire wasn’t fire, there was something not right about it. Carefully, her hands pressed against the glass front, and with a groan of resistance she slid one of the panels sideward.

The light seemed to flow against her face, lighting her cheeks, forehead, and the ridge of her nose, but shroud her eyes in a complete shadow. Testing, one small palm rose to meet with the space around the flames - Nothing. She moved the hand closer, still nothing. Now the flames were licking her skin, coiling around her fingers, but there was still no heat. It was almost as if the flames weren’t there, they could only be seen but not touched.

Something caught her eye, it shone above the flames. It glinted with the light, a single piece of metal attached to an old oak box. The metal had something inscribed in it, so, for a closer look, Rhiannon took it with both hands, curious too to what may lay inside.

There was a plaque against the spot where the piece lay, Rhiannon noticed, and slowly, she started to decipher the wording. She wasn’t all that good with words yet, letters, she knew, but some words just didn’t mean a thing to her. The capitalised scripting on the plaque read:

 

THE BOX OF MUVO, PRESENTED AFTER ASSISTING ASIA WITH THE GREAT REMOVAL OF DAAKUGAIA,  THE FINAL DEMON SPIRIT PLAUGING REMOTE TRIBES. THIS INDESTRUCTABLE BOX IS SAID TO CONTAIN A POWER OF SUCH EVILS, THAT NO ONE HAS EVER YET TO OPEN IT, AND NEVER SHOULD.

 

Rhiannon looked down at the small box in her hands. There was a carved cross over the lid, which apparently had been carved in to the wood itself, over the sides, there was imagery of mages, and people with weapons in black, the sandy colour almost pushed them out in great relief. On the front though, there was a dark figure, partially worn with what looked like the boxes age.

It was tall, dark and spindly, the painting was vague, but it was apparent that this was a creature not to mess with.

Rhiannon’s’ eyes lit up slightly as her eyes glanced along a caption above the mages dressed in black. “Daimonotaktês dieulabeomai, alêtheuô aphulaktos exegersis” She stuttered, trying to piece the letters together. It wasn’t anything she understood, so she dismissed it and cocked a brow.

Her small hands started to drift along the wooden ridges, trying to find a way to open the lid and after a closer inspection, and minutes of tilting the small rectangular box this way and that in the dim light of the blue flames, she finally managed to find a slit that ran along the centre of the sides. She tugged at it, but nothing happened. She tugged harder, but still nothing happened. More minutes she spent trying to prise apart the two halves only to fall back against the side of the old oak cabinet in exasperation.

She sat upright, crossing her legs below her. She placed the object in the centre of her legs and stared. Maybe it was too old to open she thought, it just could be stuck.

Just before she was about to give up, her eyes caught on something. That piece of metal attached to lid of the box. It was a little larger then her thumb she noticed. In fact, there was a fingerprint inscribed to the sliver of metal, around the edges, were more words Rhiannon couldn’t decipher; “andrêlateô dechomai.”

Rhiannon’s left index finger moved up to the sliver, the metal felt oddly warm around the edges, yet cooler towards the centre, something inside her drew her finger towards the inscribed finger print. As the tip of her finger, moved further in, the colder the metal seemed to become, it was intriguing and eventually her finger was directly over the print and all the coldness just seemed to disappear, for a moment at least. Then it came back, with force, it made Rhiannon bite her lip and pull her finger away, yet, it refused to break away and move. She tried again. Fear panged in the back of her mind as she kept trying to pull her hand away, but it was no use, a slow sheen of dim yellow light had started to flow from the surface of the small plaque like piece of metal. Not only that, her finger too, and with that, flowed warmth that grew gradually hotter. The two portions of light were separate entities, Rhiannon noticed. All her breath had been conveniently winded from her lungs she found as she tried to fill them with air to scream, scream for anyone around, anyone who could hear, but her throat too was closed off.

Then the two fragments of lights touched each other…

It was all over so fast. A spark leapt up from between the skin and the steel, there was a click, and then everything seemed normal again.

Rhiannon sucked air hard into her lungs again while the box fell harmlessly to the ground. Gasping, she gazed down fearfully, only to find that the small innocent box had parted in two, and staring up at her from the now apparent red lush lining of the innards, was the most beautiful, golden, tiara she’d ever seen.

It was so perfect in fact that Rhiannon just sat and stared at it, in the low lit room. Finally, she took a deep breath, and plucked it from it’s container for a closer look.

Now she could make things out more clearly. In the centre there was set a deep red emerald buried in the frame, it glinted in the flame light, pouring over her shoulder. She licked her lips. It was just too tempting not to try it on.

 No one would know, it looked too big anyway. She could just put it back in the box after and play the innocent later if anyone found out.

With that thought, she picked herself up carrying the tiara in one hand. It took her a moment or two to position herself in front of the cabinet so she could get a clear enough view of her reflection.

She took another breath, before grasping each end of the jewellery with both her index and thumb’s. Slowly, she raised it to her brow, letting the warm feeling edges glide around her forehead. She was right though, it was too big for her. Her lips partially opened, as a single sigh rolled from her mouth, the tiara went over her head completely, with both sides scarcely brushing against her head at all. The end bumped against her forehead as she stared up at herself in the glass pane.

A quick pose later, and she looked down to the box, lying harmlessly on the floor. But then just as she was about to contemplate putting it back, there was a sharp and dramatic pain running around her head, a searing pain that burnt and gnawed at her flesh. Before she could think of anything else, she let out a scream and fell to one knee, using the fingers to tug at the golden head piece. But as she soon found out, the band had shrunk to the size of her skull, and then some.

Blood was starting to drip down her face and matt her hair, she could feel a pressure around her, like the tiara, which was now piercing her skin, was trying to crush her head!

Her fingernails scrabbled at it helplessly, desperately, trying to pull it away.

A new feeling added to the pain, it felt like her head was expanding around the now what was disappearing gold band.

Rhiannon stumbled, and then again. Until finally she started to sway, the pressure building up so much it was starting to make her feel giddy. Then, she fell against something, it felt hollow, and thin, almost comforting through the haze of pain. Her hand pressed against it – The door.

With the shrinking band now barley visible through the flesh, her hand reached to the door handle and twisted it open, she felt a crack then that made half of her body fall numb, it made her turn pale at the feel and the thought – One side of her skull just buckled and collapsed against the force. She stumbled, the hand though stayed gripped on the handle. Her body collapsed to the right, pulling the door suddenly wide open, leaving her body to swing around it, only then to be catapulted back out into the corridor, back into the bright light.  She fell, one hand hitting the floor flat, the other not at all. The moment her second knee came to the floor that was it. Her left hand side just collapsed beneath her, she could feel everything shutting down, all her organs, her lungs, her heart. One last time she moved her right hand up to her head, but she found nothing, instead, it was just skin, normal un-broken skin, she felt across her forehead desperately, only to find half way across her forehead, a semi solid line, it was soft to touch, almost water like, but then it was gone, and again, there was just skin, she moved her hand further along her head, and found the same thing, only to have it disappear under her skin again. Still she moved her hand around her head, trying to find trace of the tiara, but it was no were to be found, just skin, as if nothing at all had caused this catastrophe. Finally her fingertips brushed against something obviously protruding neatly from her forehead, it didn’t feel soft, it still felt hard, and cold, like glass.

Then came the second crack, and with it, darkness, a deep black that shrouded her mind, and then it was over, her body fell limp to the floor with a thud.

 

 

 

 

Chapter 1. – Eight years later.

 

Rain was coming down outside the window. Yet, inside the classroom it was hot and humid, as usual. The school constantly left the heating system on, all through the school. Even the teacher, Mr. Smithens couldn’t help but show slight signs of annoyance at the heat; the odd pull at his collar here and there, mopping his head with a handkerchief every now and then, but the worst so far, that the students noticed, was actually taking off his tie and un-buttoning his shirt so much that only the bottom three were connected. Chest hair, and stomach hair just seemed to flow from between the two halves of material.

The thin paned windows were steamed up as all twenty three students and one teacher dripped almost with sweat. Some were fanning themselves with their books while at least making an attempt to listen, yet, there were a few, who were having trouble paying attention, and that was putting it nicely, especially one student. She sat at her desk, her chin was cupped between palms, yet her head was bowed with her ebony hair cascading in saturated clumps against her face. Her eyes were shut while her mind dipped too and from consciousness, though who could blame her in this atmosphere? She wore the dark navy blazer of the school, along with a white shirt, and a long black skirt. She wore boots too, rather then shoes, but they only stretched as far as half way up her calve, as the school regulations permitted. She had a tie too, it was the blue and black stripped one, that the school had designed and produced themselves. School pride – That was the aim, though it never showed itself.

There was another curious thing about the girl, at the centre of her forehead shone, partially with sweat, a deep red emerald ruby. It was set in her skin, and buried deep into her skull. The skin a round it, gathered like that over around a fingernail, but apart from that, she looked normally like anyone else.

A slam, followed by a loud band thundered through the class room, the girls eyes opened at one, and she jerked upright, moving her hands as fast as her reflexes would permit to her sides, in a frantic attempt to look as enthralled as possible.

“Rhiannon Kezuka!” The voice of Mr. Smithens boomed out.

But, before another word could be uttered, a sharp cough sounded next to Mr. Smithens’ bent over frame, loud and clear. His face almost turned purple as he frowned and swung around for the perpetrator. Yet, as quickly as his face had turned that shade, it seemed to drain and become devoid of all colour.

Trigaru sat with his arms folded and his legs crossed, his attire the same as Rhiannon’s, except he wore trousers and shoes, rather then a skirt and boots – It makes sense when you think about it really. He simply continued to stare at the teacher, who was obviously stricken for anything to say at the pupil who was staring so intently up at him with concern.

Others looked to one another; it was rare that Trigaru actually makes use of his weighty position to enforce, or help others, especially a person such as Rhiannon. There was snickering, even as the Teacher nervously bowed his head in apology.

“That’s enough.” He continued as he addressed the snickering class.

Trigaru’s father just happened to be head of the local school council, and was a very persuasive man, as other teachers had found out in the past. Trigaru had a reputation, and every teacher knew about it. That’s why they all tried to stay clear of him.

Rhiannon shot Trigaru a glance, he was still sitting just as calmly and attentively as before, but then she noticed that everyone’s attention was either on herself or him. She felt a hot prickly heat rise in her cheeks as again, she bowed her head. Mr. Smithens, who either hadn’t noticed, or didn’t care that he didn’t have the classes attention, had started to drone on about History once more, he nestled himself around the over head projector in the centre of the U shaped table arrangements, and was starting to slide his way through a cluster of images that looked like pyramids and artefacts. Then from no where, a cold wave crashed against Rhiannon’s senses, and she strained to keep her eyes open, when suddenly, click, on the bored! It was the box, that box from eight years ago! She closed her eyes, and shook her head, to make sure she wasn’t seeing things. But when she opened her eyes, all she found where she was so sure she saw the box, was a square shaped sarcophagus, plastered onto the board by the overhead projector streaming light through a semi-transparent piece of plastic, laid face down on it’s surface.. 

…Why couldn’t she get that out of her head? Maybe because, it was the constant reminder in her head that wouldn’t let her. Literally, that red gem buried in her forehead, was once the one that lay on the golden tiara, the tiara. She shuddered. Just the thought made her quake where she sat – The remembrance of having the two sides of the innocent looking gold tear through her skull like butter, only to be left like with no scars, just a glimmering red stone poking from her forehead as well as the other thing. Sure, when it happened, she was taken to the hospital, the healing mages there X-rayed her head when she gained consciousness, only to find that the two sides of the tiara had joined inside her! They’d tore through her brain, except, they hadn’t, there were no marks, no breaks in her skull, yet, she knew what had happened, she was so sure. She knew that her skull had been split and pierced, she remembered her body falling limp and dead, only to wake up again at the hospital. But the X-rays, the X-rays had shown a stem proceeding down from the emerald, deep into her brain, connecting with the basal ganglia gland. No one knew why, and when the healing mages tried to remove it, they found it protected by other charms and spells, beyond what they were capable of breaking, it felt too alien and powerful to comprehend. They had gone on to tell Sati and Toka how it appeared to be doing no harm, so it should just stay put, for now at least.

What baffled her was who found her. No one would have been inside on a day like that, and especially on that occasion, save perhaps, a maid, a butler, or even perhaps Sanguis Charles, and that girl who was consoling him. One thing she did know though, not much time passed between when she ‘died’ and woke up again at the hospital.

A sudden thump brought her back from her thoughts. She winced and looked to her right, automatically bringing her left arm up to her right shoulder to rub the now tender area.

Emily Jane was sitting next to her, with her eyes widened, and she was nodding towards Mr. Smithens. One finger moved to her lip as she hushed Rhiannon. A hand extended, clutching a folded up piece of paper towards her, and Rhiannon quickly took it, and looked at the bubbly blue ball point hand-writing. It reeked of lilac and honey, even over the sweat, and there was only one person in the class this could have come from; Sara Shaw, the class priss.

Sara sat at the end of the left column in the U shaped seating, the end being reserved for only the best, and as young teenagers do, they had taken up the liberty of dividing themselves almost perfectly down the centre, boys to the right, and girls to the left. Sara had the kind of hair which gave the impression that the colour was far from natural, and it was clear as she had recently discovered make-up, as her face was almost a shade of light orange. Her clothes were always neat, her accessories, such as hair clips, school bag, her pens, and her books were all pink – It was past sickening.  Rhiannon re-read the writing again, and again before sending it to the person next to her. It was for Trigaru, the boy who had saved her from Mr. Smithens’ wraith a moment ago. Obviously someone wanted to voice their opinion about it, though Rhiannon thought it was best not to snoop, and to avoid lowering herself to that level.

Moments later, she saw Trigaru get the inevitable tap. She heard him grunt in disapproval, Mr. Smithens, flustered, took it as he was doing something wrong, and let out a small whine, only to delve deeper, and faster in his giving of information, not daring to bring his sight around to the pupil who would surely end his feeble career.

Trigaru’s eyes flicked down as he read the note, un-ravelling it openly above the desk. He sat and read it for a moment. Rhiannon couldn’t help but feel that prickling heat up her cheeks once more, but, she didn’t know why this time, she wasn’t embarrassed,  more annoyed if anything. There was a sudden movement from Trigaru; his eyes flickered from the paper to Rhiannon. Could he feel her watching him? Now she did feel embarrassed, and her cheeks lit up more. Sara, who was sitting at the far end of the row of tables, glanced up too, Rhiannon was on the horizontal row, connecting the two columns of longer rows, and everyone looked away. Sara looked down to her note book, Rhiannon buried her face in her hands, and Trigaru crumpled up the paper with one hand, and put pen to paper. Moments later and Trigaru was on his feet. Mr. Smithens flinched but continued, faster, as if his voice was being digitally speeded up. He walked over to Rhiannon and grinned, placing the paper down in front of her. She turned red hot looking at the words, two bad words, she was about to speak, if not cry, but Trigaru spoke quietly in her ear first, yet, loud enough for the people around them to hear.

“Please, pass this on to Miss Shaw for me Miss Kezuka.”

Rhiannon felt a definite lump inside her throat. She paused, and read the words again in her head, over and over. She almost laughed as she did. Not a normal laugh, mind you, more of a relieved, hysterical laugh, but she managed to stifle it as she got up out of her chair and made her way, accompanied and flanked by Trigaru. Sara looked up at her their approach and then stared away as Rhiannon hovered beside her, with the letter clutched against her chest. Again, she could smell Lilac and honey; it made her nose tingle at the power of the smell. There was another pause, she lifted the letter, then finally, she brought it down face up in front of Sara – She couldn’t help but feel a small well of triumph rise inside her.

“Thank you Miss. Kezuka, you may go back to your seat now.” Trigaru voice ran softly as he turned to cut across the front of the two lines of tables towards his seat, on the way he stopped in front of Mr. Smithens casting his form as a silhouette on the board behind him.

 A long silence filled the room which made Mr. Smithens whimper and almost flinch, but Trigaru simply closed his eyes, smiled and continued to walk.

“I’m sorry for this disturbance sir, please, carry on. I’m fascinated.”

Mr. Smithens, surprised at the comment, smiled faintly, and straightened up. His posture changing completely into someone humbled, rather then dominated. He coughed and looked at Trigaru as he sat down.

“Well… Err… Thank you… Mr. Biddulph.”

On the other side of the room though, Rhiannon was walking away from the horror struck Sara, who just sat wide eyed, staring down at the paper’s neat lettering.

“You… You won’t get away with this!” She stammered in her sarcastic-matter-of-factly-better-then-everyone else voice.

“Get away with what?” Trigaru laughed under his breath. “I haven’t done a thing.”

Sara pushed her chair backwards and rocketed herself up, placing one hand on her desk as she bent over it, thrusting the note up above her head.

“This! I have it right here! You wrote this!”

Sara was cut short by no-one less then Mr. Smithens, who snatched the paper, and read the contents. Trigaru raised a sudden brow.

“Did you write this?” He asked Trigaru plainly.

“No sir.” Trigaru said back, unsure.

“That’s a lie!” Sara perked up again.

“Sit down Miss. Shaw!” Mr. Smithen’s face was getting red again. Yet, Sara complied and sat down. Rhiannon finally reached her seat, and sat down to watch.

“Did anyone see Trigaru write this?” Now Mr. Smithens was addressing the class...

The question was met with silence, one boy went to put a hand up, but the lad next to him slapped it back before anyone could notice. Trigaru grinned, Sara was stunned, what was the loudest mouth in school was now lost for words. She turned to her friends, they turned away. Obviously Trigaru was a person they didn’t want to object to either.

“That’s not fair!” Sara began but was soon cut off by Mr. Smithens.

“Well, if no one saw him do it…” There was a faint cackle from the class. Sara frowned and glared up at Trigaru, who again was sitting quietly with his arms folded loosely across his desk.

Striding over towards his large desk, the teacher tore the paper into small refined pieces, and let them fall into a knee high metallic bin. He turned, and closed his eyes, feeling a light wave of power rush over his stature.

“Now, if there will be no more interruptions.”

 

 

After what seemed like forever, the bell rang, Rhiannon got to her feet slowly, rising with Emily next to her side. She grouped together her books and headed for the door with her eyes moving to Sara who was sitting still in her seat. Sara’s head jerked away in disgust when she felt her passing behind her. Rhiannon’s eyes glanced towards Trigaru, he was looking back so again she turned away. As soon as she was out of the door she stopped and pressed herself against the wall beside it. Emily stopped and turned around, she looked puzzled.

 Emily was just a little shorter then Rhiannon was. She had dark neck length hair that stayed at an equal level around her head; also she had freckles too, as well as two slightly larger front teeth that were visible every time she opened her mouth. She spoke with a Liverpool accent; some people called her a Scouser, the common nick name for someone from around that area. Her voice was rough, yet at the same time, old fashioned and her tone had a tendency to sometimes come off as sarcastic through no fault of her own.

“What was bloody all of that about then? What was on the note?” She asked quirkily.

“..Didn’t you see?” Rhiannon asked with a smirk curling her lips.

“Not that one, the one I passed you. I saw what was on the one Trig gave you… I wish I’d have given it to her.”

“Well, we’re not all as privileged as I.” Rhiannon’s smirk rose even further as she flicked her head back, sending clumps of sweat matted hair to the sides of her face.

  Just then, the door opened, and Mr. Smithens came out. He looked at Rhiannon with a look of indignation but said nothing and walked on.

“That was another thing! As if Trig stuck up for you! He never does that!” Emily was about to carry on, but there was a low laugh from the class room. There appeared to be only two students left inside, the laugh was low, and masochistic. All of that was followed by a high pitched shout which was hard to make it out through the door, but it seemed to be two words, resembling those which Rhiannon had passed to Sara.

“The priss.” Rhiannon murmured while inclining her head towards the door, which then opened. Instantly, she pushed herself up off the wall and passed Emily, then the door burst open.

 There was barley a second to manoeuvre before Sara stormed out in a rage wearing a deep look of hate over her face, then came a shoulder, and a second later, it collided with Rhiannon’s. It knocked her a few steps back against the wall again. Sara grunted and turned her head back as she walked, hardly sparing a glance, nor the time.

“Watch where you’re going you freak…” She almost spat as she stormed off with her books pressed tightly against her chest.

“…Bloody hell; she’s on form isn’t she?” Emily blinked and then looked back to Rhiannon, who was nursing her shoulder for the second time today. “Oh, sorry, are you okay?”

“I hate that cow, she’s always so high and mighty.” Rhiannon got up again from the wall, and pressed herself into the door way. “I’ll be right back Emily; I just have to ask him something.”

She startled herself as she moved inside. Trigaru was standing against the opposite side of the wall where she was only moments ago, staring straight at her.

“Yes Miss Kezuka? You want to ask me something?”

“Well... I... Just wanted to know…” She stuttered.

“Why I saved you from a rear kicking by Smithens?”

“Well… Yes. Why?”

“Well, why not?” He grinned down at her.

Rhiannon shifted a brow for a moment, not sure of what to make of it all.

“What about Maxine Carse? She got in trouble with Mr. Bateau the other day for leaving the glue on her woodwork game drying on Peter Grants chair, who I know, is practically blind, but still… Why didn’t you help her?”

“She was careless… but anyone could have fallen asleep in here just now Miss Kezuka, It’s like an oven if you hadn’t noticed.”

 Rhiannon blushed, she still felt taken aback by his presence.

“Well… Thank you anyway… But, just one more thing?”

“And that is Miss Kezuka?”

“…Call me Rhi… You’ve known me for almost four years now.”

Trigaru looked sternly at Rhiannon’s face, but soon the grin was back and he sneered under his breath.

“The question, if you will Miss Kezuka?” Trigaru prompted.

Rhiannon’s brows flickered as she stared up at him, then in a voice which ferried a little more annoyance then before, she continued.

“What did the priss say to you in that letter that made you so upset?”

There wasn’t an immediate answer, but again, Trigaru sneered, then closed his eyes and pushed himself up from the spot against the wall.

“It’s rude to stereotype you know – Miss Kezuka.” Silently, he bowed his head and made his way passed Rhiannon and out through the door.

By the time Rhiannon could comprehend what had happened; her mind had churned up a small sentence to help knock her to come some sense.

 He’s gone.

She turned suddenly and pushed herself out through the door, she looked up the corridor on her right, nothing, then to her left; there! Trigaru was about twenty feet away already. Her body moved so fast she couldn’t believe it, but soon enough she had positioned herself in the centre of the hallway with her hands clenched into fists at her side.

“Trigaru! Wait! Come back!”

“He’s gone.” Spoke a small voice from behind her, which echoed the one in her head.

Rhiannon sighed.

“… I know.” She mumbled, and then turned around to find Emily, who had still been waiting for her.

“You do know it’s time to go, right?” Emily asked dumbly.

Rhiannon nodded and then raised her arm, pulling back the sleeve on her left arm to reveal a small silver plated watch. The face was purple and glinted in the dim light.

Three forty – How perfect, home time…

There was a brief sigh as Rhiannon looked up from the enslaving metal hands.

“Are you still coming around tonight then?” Rhiannon asked inquisitively.

“Of course! I love your house – Why wouldn’t I?” Emily curiously asked in return, though, there was no point in asking, Emily had been through this countless times now. She knew what was about to come.

Rhiannon drew a second solemn breath and closed her eyes.

“Kayleigh… your mother isn’t that bad...”

“Not that bad?! She won’t let me as much read on my own without constantly bring over my shoulder!” Rhiannon spluttered, seeming perkier now the topic had been raised.

“True – but, she’s getting better at the space thing.”

“You call her trusting me long enough so she can go to the bathroom…” Rhiannon paused long enough to smile sarcastically, “…better?”

“Whatever, look, lets just go. I really can’t stand to be here longer then we have to.” Emily gazed around the hall.

The hot, sweaty stuffy air was wafting out from the classroom behind them, it was filling the corridor now, and to both Rhiannon and Emily, it was becoming annoyingly distracting, though part of Rhiannon liked the feel of the heat, it was comforting in a way.

 

 

 

It took the girls around five minutes to go to their lockers and retrieve their belongings, walk hurriedly down to the exit and out into the courtyard – Or at least what used to be a courtyard, now it had been converted into a car park. Once cobbled paths and lawns lay - now only jet black tarmac, with white stripes dividing the area up into little compact segments lay there.

“It’s still raining I see” Emily commented dully. Kayleigh couldn’t even invoke the will to nod; each heavy drop seemed to be draining any will to move. Still, she found it slightly refreshing after the hour long stint in the stuffy classroom.

Various sized cars littered the giant grid like parking area, rain bounced off of each one. The two girls made a straight line for a dark elongated limousine that looked heavy and bulky, and most of all, powerful.

A woman was stepping out of the rear; she was flanked by a large stocky man donned in all black suite and a chauffeurs cap. One of the man’s massive arms lay extended, the brightly white glove at the end of it was holding open the closest back door for the figure, while the other positioned an umbrella above the figure exiting the vehicle.

 

*         *         *         *          *         *          *          *

 

Kayleigh sat silently in the back of the limousine with her eyes shut, her thoughts, and possibly even her mind elsewhere.

 There was a crackle in the spacious interior; it made her brow flicker and her concentration drift gradually back.  Then followed a low voice that carried an Irish accent subtly filled the space.

“She’s on her way now Ma’am.”

“Thank you Bill, would I be right in sensing the young Emily with her, as arranged?.” Kayleigh replied and questioned flippantly.

“Aye Ma’am, she’s coming, as arranged.”

With that, the crackling speaker ceased, and there was the sound of a car door opening.

Seconds later the sound of a door shutting with a small thud rang out loud following the echoes of the last – It sent a small shake through the structure of the car.

Stepping sounds resonated from the front of the car, and they continued up to the door on Kayleigh’s left.  A bright light spilled into the dark space a flash later, and a hazy damp waft of air met the cleansed inside the car, and the two joined.

It was still raining she saw, she already knew, she had felt the rain, sensing it in her mind. She let one foot raise and slide out of the door. No rain was falling where she placed it; she blinked then moved the other foot out. She hadn’t cast a weather enchantment and wasn’t planning too. Maybe it was someone else?

Kayleigh closed her eyes for a moment and cast open her mind to all surrounding consciousness about the area. Maybe there was someone lurking near by, an assassin perhaps, a mage even, someone hired by an enemy. This person could have some how found out she’d be picking her daughter up form here, at this time and then followed. Panic pierced all her thoughts.

A cough broke them suddenly.

 From outside the limousine, Kayleigh’s head peered out gingerly; again, no rain was hitting her face, but as her eyes gazed skyward she found Bill standing above her, holding the stem of an umbrella tightly in one of his brightly white gloved hands and a stern, concerned stare on his face.

Warmly her cheeks flushed with embarrassment and she stepped out, pulling herself tall against the backdrop of the vehicle behind her. With her composure re-building Kayleigh smiled and closed her eyes, bowing her head forward and let both her hands clasp together in one tight bond beneath the folds of her pure white robe.

All four figures met in the rain; Bill, the tallest of the four shielded the rain from Kayleigh, despite the heavy, harsh drops bouncing from his own body, drenching him and the two new smaller figures, adorned in their soaking school uniforms. Fresh droplets of water spilt from their noses and chins to plummet down to the earth to join their H²0 brethren in dark dirty puddles and pools on the tarmac.

“Did you have a good day at school Rhiannon, dear?” Kayleigh asked, obviously pushing aside the inconvenience of the rain for the two children.

“As good as it gets I suppose” Rhiannon concluded as sincere as she could manage.

“I take it all the arrangements for the young mistress Emily staying with us tonight are all in order?”

“…Of course!” Emily Laughed placing a hand behind her back. “My mum wishes I’d just come and live with you permanently.”

“I’m afraid as attached as I am to you, your mother is stuck with you Emily dear. Just raise your head for me a moment if you will.” Kayleigh asked, while smiling and finally opening her eyes to the two wet girls.

Emily without hesitation this time knowing the drill from countless times, did as she was told and raised her head proudly to the streaming drops of descending rain that clung to her hair bringing the strands together in lagoons of binding holds that just seemed to defy gravity and sit their in bubble like mounds of collected water.

Kayleigh took a moment to clear her mind - As she did, her hands fell from their grasped embrace, and careful not to blink, Rhiannon watched, cautious not to miss the event, as, after all this was her heritage.

Inside Kayleigh’s conscious, he mind centred, it was harder in the rain, but she was used to such distractions, her training covered this when she was a child, just like Rhiannon’s would soon enough.

The silence was deadly, bar the sound of the falling drops of rain which seemed to continuously patter down in heavy monotonous, but yet tranquil hits which seemed to resonate most from the roof of the car beside them rather then the floor. Again and again Rhiannon had to stop her eyes from straying towards the limo.

Inside Rhiannon knew that one day se would be expected to take over from her mother and claim the title of her family that had been passed down, generation by generation.

                Inside herself, Emily could feel a presence inside her mind, inside her body, probing, scanning, and testing for anything that shouldn’t be there.

                A crackle inside her mind flared memories for second, bright memories, but then they were quickly gone. There! Again, another flickering memory passed her eyes – Then another! Without herself realising, her eyes were rolling to the back of her head, Kayleigh’s hands were gripping at the sides of her damp face, the thumbs positioned across the temples, while the fingers were wrapped around the back of her neck touching various points along the base of the skull.

                Rhiannon couldn’t see properly, but she knew her mothers fingers, which were the bridge of the connection between the two minds, had found their mark on Emily’s system.

                A feeling of almost bright positive light flooded her sight. Loosely, she could feel the rain on her face, and her uniform now clammy and clinging to her skin, also she could faintly smell the warm humidity all like they were a set of voices far off shut away in a room next door.

Of course, as quickly as it started it was over. Kayleigh’s hands were once again grasped tightly together against her stomach. Emily’s eyes opened gradually, she felt confused, and couldn’t quite push aside a tingle of embarrassment, not to mention the little queasy rising in her stomach.

                Slowly one by one, her senses came back; the rain was once more poring down her cheeks and the overpowering suffocating dampness was once more proclaiming itself dominant over all other present forces of nature.

“Please, get in the car before you both get Pneumonia.” Kayleigh said while smiling and backing into the limo, crouching low as she came into contact with the familiar leather clad seats. 

Bill held out the umbrella towards the two, but only now did Emily realise the circumference was larger then that of a normal one and it easily housed both herself and Rhiannon under its shelter, though both of these weren’t all that surprising. The Kezuka family, of course was one of the better off, compared to the average common, as well as most upper class families that lived in Staffordshire.

Once the two had entered, and the door was tightly shut and locked, bill dropped his head and grinned - This wasn’t a normal grin. This was a worn grin, tired with the age of service. The elements around him didn’t affect his thought, nor did he care about any of it. The rain poured down continuously, but he didn’t care, why should he? He himself had been through worse. Each guard of the Kezuka was specially trained. Each was a professional, each knew their duty and each was an expert in all forms of survival, in combat, in resisting the elements. 

A large hand lowered and the cover of the umbrella fell in on itself collapsing into one spiked column against the bodyguards’ thigh. A second hand raised, his fingers spreading out wide, while the thumbs rouse vertically into the air.

 A swirl of gentle rain around his feet sent water vertically this way and that – The rain became a spray, which became a haze, which then took shape of almost a solid band, a ribbon which seemed to rise and extend from the floor beneath his humble shoes.

This band seemed to encompass his body loosely. Not into a tight weave, like a mummy would be wrapped in ancient Egypt say, more like a cork screwing whirlwind of ribbon that hung inches or so from his built up frame, which grew wider as it went up, but after his head, it closed, leaving part of his stature exposed through the gaps which the haze caused.

  Light erupted from above the tangle – A short spark that gradually got bigger; larger, wider, finally taking a shape: From the centre of the spark came a small globe, pure, yellow-white energy that pulsed with a feel of life.

  This grew more, lowering over the mess, encompassing the whole scene in its crackle of power. Finally, the swirling bands began to cease and fall back to the floor, leaving the large shielding ball of energy to act as a bubble over Bill, one very dry, crisp smart, smug looking Bill.

             

                              *             *                  *               *                 *              *                 *                        *

 

It was a relatively smooth drive from the school back to the Kezuka residence – Those golden gates were parting and bearing the driveway in the still beating rain as the limousine pulled graciously through. A squeak and a clang later, and they were once more tightly shut behind them.

    The rain could still be heard outside as well as on the roof. It hit in quick hard thuds above them. Neither Kayleigh, nor anyone else had said several words at since they had disembarked from the school, and the feel inside the rear section of the vehicle was one of silence.

                Rhiannon was lost in thought, staring far away through the tinted windows out at the streams of water running against the outside of the glass past her face, each in a race almost with each other as one drop met another, then another, and that gathering met another gathering, only to form a bigger collective which then entered one of the any streams that colonised the outer side of the cold, yet steamy glass.  Suddenly, her ears prickled to the sound of the door opening besides her. Once more, there was the tall, heavily built figure of Bill, the resident guard standing tall with the same umbrella held fast above the exit.

  More water seamed to fall from the edges of the material which comprised the canvas of the shield. The rain though hit against Bill with all the force it could muster. Again, he didn’t mind.