Original Souls (A World Apart #1) (18 page)

I began twisting and turning, the fire was so intense that it felt like it was melting my hand away. I tried to grab with my other hand, but a slight shock repelled it on contact. The same hand that Geary nailed to the Chancellor's desk, my right hand, was on fire. The
n
… it just turned to ash right before my eyes. My right hand faded away with the same winds that carried me toward my death.

Like a fish out of water, I longed to feel land beneath my feet. I didn't even bother screaming as I watched the ashes that once made up my hand flutter away in the distance. I was numb, distorted beyond rational thought . . . simply out of feelings. I looked down, and saw the rooftop of a factory a few stories below me, ready to take my life upon impact. I tried praying to the North Star. Aurora's star. For Corinth's safety in my absence. While I muttered this worthless heap of words to a mythical figure, I hit something . . . something soft!

I was shocked when I opened my eyes to see the same rooftop beneath me. But there was space between me and it. Not my face crushed up against it, like I expected things to play out. It was just there, beneath me as I seem to lay on an invisible cushy cloud of some sort. "Or force field," I randomly mumbled to myself.

I was in the North, far in the North. The large building I saw, it must have been the watchtower at the school. I can't believe I'm in the North, the safest place in all the Worlds. Or at least it usedto be. Before there were tigers with lightning shooting out of their mouths flying above it. Well, I guess that's why Aurora's school has always had a force field around it. Though the town does
n’
t have one, so ... tha
t’
s bad logic to think the school needs the field around it. I went to that very school. It saved me from a boring fate stuck in Draconia, which is the least advanced World by far. Well, socially at least. Not only is the North safer than all the other Worlds, but i
t’
s also the most culturally advanced. Wait! Then those birds, they must have been ... wow! It is such a rushing surprise to have all this information coming back to me at once.

I glanced over to the knob that was the remainder of my missing hand. I
t’
s pushed up against the force field. The field glowed brightly in that spot. In fact, the only thing that indicated there is a force at work here is my body lying on top of it. Seeing the knob was grim to say the least. A, not so subtle, reminder of something
I’
d like to hope is just a really realistic dream. My hand isn't missing. As in it'ssomewhere out there waiting to be found. My hand, i
t’
s just gone. Unless I wake up feeling foolish for being so afraid of the possibility of living without it.

I slammed into the soft force field face forward, so I tried turningonto my back. Even though my landing was surprisingly gentle, I am aching from this entire battling journey I've been on for days now. I'm so tired. So tired. Thankfully, I ca
n’
t even process the pain of my burned away hand. I
t’
s surely gone, but ther
e’
s no lingering sensation. After the initial burn, that is. After the ashes drifted away, like dust in the wind. I had to take a few deep breaths and let that all sink in.

Soon enough, I feel myself falling asleep. The sky started changing colors above me in reds, greens, and blues. I thought; maybe the Aurora Boreal was taking place in real time? Are these the Northern Lights twinkling above me like little beacons of hop
e—
or quite possibly dread? Who knows but the stars. Nevertheless, tha
t’
s likely wha
t’
s going on. I used-to stare at those lights long ago when I went to school up here, so I know them well enough to tell. My son is once again out of my reach, and I'm sure that I'm not just falling asleep right now. I'm passing ou
t
— for the umpteen time.

March 31, 1002 ~ Daylight

"Ahhh!" said Corinth's father, with a gut wrenching gasp from his
hospital -bed. "My god, when is this nightmare going to end!" he cried out in full sentences from within his dreams, like h
e’
d been doing for several hours now.

Luckily, no one can hear him all the way up here in the Watchtower. This ivory cylinder shaped apparatus is the tallest building on Aurora Borea
l’
s grounds. In conjunction with the town, Hyperborean, just outside its protected gates, they make up an entire World. This tiny place, by comparison, makes up one eighth of the 8ights Council. The Aurora Boreal school is the main feature of the town, and most everything is conducted around and about it. Still, i
t’
s a good thing the children have gone away from the school for break. Otherwise, they and the remaining staff would go bunkers if they saw the state of Cris' hand when he was taken down from the force field.

This sour smelling gentleman has been through a lot these last few days. Corinth's eyes continued to brighten on and off as we together gazed upon his father stationed in this makeshift hospital high in the tower. I look through the boy, and see his father. A strong willed individual who could put any good dad in all the eight Worlds to instant shame. What he's done for his son, for his family, has been nothing short of miraculous. Frankly, I'm surprised he handled it all so well. He never struck me as the intelligent type.

He's a typical  Draconian male. Brute, take-charge kind of fellows they are. However, they very seldom know what to do once the
y’
re in control. Common  short dark hair, with those ever-shining blue eyes. Skin tones come in all different shades, but they all somehow look the same no matter their physical attributes. Perhaps i
t’
s their attitudes that clump then together so? Their eyes say business first and pleasure . . . never! Rough and treacherous lives they live. For reasons the other seven Worlds can't begin to figure out. Neither can I for that matter, and I see all things. Or so I thought.

They think the
y’
re the planets most inventive people. Though i
t’
s more true that they're complete hacks. They don't invent or even innovate, they just dominate through force. They've learned these tactics from a long line of hypocrites. Criston thinks the past Chancellor's of Draconia are great figures, but repeatedly the
y’
ve refused to compromise with the 8ights Council on dire matters, which prompted many of small wars amongst them in recent times. Sebastian didn't have to work hard to persuade his fellow government officials in Draconia to elect him. This came about only weeks after he had his own son disposed of. And all that, just in pursuit of the Seat of Power.

The El Muerte Vivo curse that Sebastian has reproduced in this seru
m—
i
t’
s merely a taste of what's to truly come. There are bigger and badder fish out there than he. But he's connected right at the core of all these dueling fates. Draconia is the catalyst for many horrible future events. That's why I've been monitoring it through the tender eyes of the most unique youngster in all the Worlds.

Corinth, that weak child has shown me more than I could have ever seen with any other. His turquoise eyes are the signature of progression. For so long the eight Worlds have been divided. The 8ightsCouncil popped up only recently, in reference to the duration of time all the Worlds have been at each othe
r’
s throats. The 8ights hasn't been around long at all really.

Corinth is the first of a new type of people. He is mixed of two separate races. Truly he is one of a kind. Most people aren't yet comfortable or brave enough to do what they've done for love. Criston and Julia have broken the mold. A mold so firm in place that it's taken nearly a millennium-of human history for these cultures to reunite the bloodlines. More and more children of mixed ancestry are born now. But things do
n’
t change overnight. Tha
t’
s why there are people like Sebastian who would have them all eliminated from the equation. And he will have his way, unless I stop it.

The time has only now become right for it. A few decades ago they would have been exiled from Draconia for having Corinth. Actually, just for being together as well. Even people in Julia's home World, La Envidia, would have frowned harshly on them. Seeing a couple together strolling down the street holding hands and their eyes aren't the same color! A chill would have crept down the spine of every sane mind. It would have created pandemonium. Naturally, I'm exaggerating, but sadly enough not very much. Not exactly exile, like the Draconians would have done, but still a penalty for loving outside their race. The La Envidians are not known for their kindness, but the
y’
re a more logical people than the Draconians. If it were
n’
t for work opportunities in Draconia, for them both, Criston would have rather lived in his wife's home World. But that would have been bad for my agenda.

Corinth's conscience ... has a name. I am the Nexus. I'vebeen lying, not so dormant, inside Corinth's mind since he was born. H
e’
s a unique one, his parents are useful, and the three of them may very well be the only thing keeping the balance between
harmony
and
discord
for the future of the Worlds.

A storm is brewing amongst those in this reality and the next. I must use Corinth to his full potential if
I’
m going to succeed in anything that I'm working on. I am just now talking to the outside. Corinth's can hear me now. But only when I want him to, of course. He needs to train first. Learn to master the skills of magik. Learn to control the power that I've given him before he can know everything that I, the Nexus, know. And that's why I've brought him here. To the Aurora Boreal school. A boarding school based on learning to properly wield magik.

Aurora Boreal is-one of a kind. No, i
t’
s not the only magik school around, but it is the only one that accepts applicants from every World on the planet. Even from Lirio and Imperativo. The only Worlds left that haven't adopted English as their national language. They both speak English more since the building of the Puente del Cielo. But Maledictus is still taught in their schools. Most can't master the spells, but just speaking it freaks the other Worlds out quite a bit.

Maledictus is something most people are afraid to even gingerly chat about in private, better yet speaking it in the public domain. The original language, fused of several others before it, but lost over the ages for a very purposeful reason. The most powerful spells can be performed only in that language. Only elders speak it wholly nowadays, but some people study it in the shadows. Those who wish to wield without wand or llave. Those who wish to gain ultimate power. But the language, and even more so its spells, are not easily mastered. Most who attempt to learn a single phrase fail. That's a blessing to the masses. If too many possessed that kind of power, the Worlds would be plunged back into the dead age. When the dead roamed the lands just as the living do.

However dangerous that all sounds, Aurora Boreal still teaches certain phrases of Maledictus to its students. They've been criticized for it, but they retort with the simple-adage; 'it is our ancestry.' If we don't know where we came from, we won't continue cautiously towardour future. I
t’
s true, many have forgotten the perils of making power seem so alluring. To teach the language cancels out some of the mystery, which in turn neutralizes some of the attraction.

The Boreal school has always been the best and the only truly diverse school. Parents from all Worlds dream of their children being educated here. A ninety-nine percent success rate will do that. Nearly no one fails that graduates from these walls. Though there has been a few exceptions. And it seems one of them is waking from his much needed and longwinded slumber.

March 31, 1002 ~ Midday

Corinth was sitting on one of the stone windowsills that overlooked the town, when Señora Hendrix slipped in. Through the large wooden door at the center of the room she came, and closed it back softly. He watched as she seemingly glided across the cobblestone floors of the expansive room. Her dark cloak fluttering with the several airy currents of a softly budding spring day. Her dark brown skin, so liken to Criston's own hue, looked taut and smoothed over her demanding and aged face. So correct and eventful were her features for a woman well over fifty. Her poised dark hair, slicked back into a feathery, but overly large puffy bun. It was just as striking as the cold, robotic blue of her keen eyes. She continued on across the spacious room, advancing from the dark wooden door without as much as a word of acknowledgement to the two of them in it. She immediately took up near Criston's bed, and began tinkering with the equipment employed to help keep him comfortable.