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Authors: Kyle Thomas Miller

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"Don't be alarmed, Criston. The shine means i
t’
s working." With a big smile on his face he mocked Criston's nervousness and fear of the unknown.

 

Criston thought, it means what's working? What does this new power really entail?

 

"What is this?" Corinth unexpectedly asked all the adults. He noticed what they had
n’
t. He thought this new sight was even more peculiar than his -fathe
r’
s glowing hand.

 

"What's what
?
” his dad questioned further.

 

"These lights that stained the grass and pathways. It's like all the way up the hill. You can see the lights still on the ground." Corinth pointed up the hill in the direction of this brilliant sight. The lights that burst off Criston's hand formed a rather curious marking on the ground around them. Not a huge area of the hill was covered, but substantial enough to be noticed at a distance.

 

"It just the mark of fate," Walker informed the group, as Sena. Hendrix nodded in confirmation. "I
t’
s no big deal, you can read all about in the Fate Forgery. An old, old book. Long too! Only one copy ever produced. The original copy it is indeed. Hand written. Lovely penmanship. Couple of torn and spotty pages, but nonetheless a good read. It's up in the school's library. Catalog numbers 1-05-
8—
"

 

"Wait! What's the mark of fate? What is all this?" Cris cut him off abruptly. Walker would have droned on all night if he had
n’
t. But Walker didn't particularly enjoy being cast aside. He turned away silently for a moment of methodic thought to himself.

 

Sena. Hendrix decided to take this one. "It doesn't mean much, it just marks the spot where this ceremony occurred really." She threw her hands up as if it was nothing major and even forced an uncomfortable smile.

 

"What do you mean?" Cris snapped. "Speak in English. My hand is glowing purple for crying out loud!"

 

"You're fine, Cris. It's not as weird as it all seems," Walker reinserted himself, announcing with a cheery smile.

 

"Well, of course that's easy for you to say! All you've got to do is walk around reading books all day. Playing with that mangy mutt dog of yours. Just as carefree as you please, huh!"

 

Corinth's face sunk. He liked Oliveto, and didn't understand why his dad was attacking Walker and the little pup. But more so, he was shocked that his dad had broken his own cardinal rule about dealing with this guy. He said to never call that dog anything but perfect. Cory looked up to Walker, and he didn't look pleased. Not one bit.

 

"Walker...!" Sena. Hendrix cautiously called out.

 

He dropped his book on the ground. Something he'd never normally do. He treats books with more respect than people, most say. But Oliveto was his friend, and he didn't take well to anyone who had bad words for his friends.

 

"Walker, mind yourself!" she said as the well read man approached ever so close to Criston.

 

"Dad, apologize!" Corinth shouted out, but Walker nor Criston were listening. Their eyes were fixed on one another.

 

Criston had, maybe four inches of added height over Walker. And a bit more beefy frame too. But Walker was no coward. In fact, he's a bit hard-headed. Didn't shy away from a fight, even when he perhaps should. Walker was now as close to Criston as he could be without touching him. Sena. Hendrix and Corinth edged closer, trying to convince them both that it wasn't worth it. But they were concentrated only on one another.

 

"You think this is the best decision, bookworm," Criston snorted.

 

"Oh, what fresh terminology!" Walker mocked. "You may find it difficult to believe, but no one has ever called me that. It's strange, considering everyone who knows me has never seen me without a book in hand. Yet still, no one has muttered that tired phrase to me before." His facial expression was telling the opposite story. Spit flung from his plush lips as he spoke frantically. If even a drop hit Criston, he'd certainly attack. Walker's curly, dirty blond hair and sharp nose were moving and flaring emphatically with him. He was transfixed by rage. He never hated Criston, though they had a sordid past. Besides a few friend of friend relations, they weren't particularly close and never wanted to be during their school days together. But right now, they're too close for any sense of comfort.

 

"Dad, just apologize. You were wrong!" Corinth pleaded.

 

That phrase got Walker's attention. He turned back to Corinth and said. "Thank you, young Corinth. You are wiser than your father, here." Walker turned back to Cris with a look of absolute satisfaction. He felt as if he persuaded Criston's own son into taking his side. He felt for sure he was in the right.

 

"That's true, Walker," Corinth said, "but apparently I'm also a lot wiser than you too." The solidly pronounced statement garnered everyone's attention. "Yo
u’
d start a fight over a smart remark about Oliveto. A smart remark that happens to be true. If you're so concerned about what people think of the pup, then why don't you take better care of him?"

 

Walker's lip started to tremble as he immediately walked away from Corinth's dad. He was actually crying! Corinth felt horrible, so he rushed to his side. They both sat now, in the grass, just over some of the strange markings left behind by the lights. Corinth thought for sure that he'd sit on a shard of glass if he weren't careful. Not knowing that, unlike the leftover light, the shards all disappeared into the night wind.

 

"I didn't mean to hurt you," Corinth offered his new friend words of consolation.

 

"No, i
t’
s not that! It's just that you're right," Walker said through a lot more tears than you'd expect a grown man to cry over the upkeep of his puppy. Sena. Hendrix and Criston looked on impatiently while all this took place. "I loved Oliveto's father. He was a yellow Stanch."

 

Corinth's expression was blank. "What's a Stanch?" he asked.

 

"It's a breed of very colorful, long, fluffy furred dogs that are profusely dedicated to their caretakers," Criston chimed in amply. "I had a red one when I was a boy."

 

"I remember that," Sena. Hendrix added to Cris' statement with a reluctant smile. "Her name was, Spark, right?" Cris nodded with a familiar shine in his eyes.

 

"Oh," was all Cory managed to get out, as the adults reminisced about pastpets. He had never had a pet before, so the connection did
n’
t really register.

 

Walker continued, "yes, and these dogs are the most loving breed on the planet. I loved Oliveto's father and mother. When that pair passed, all that was left was Oliveto. But as of recent, I haven't had as much time to tend to him. That's why he has looked even more treacherous than his parents used to. My responsibilities at the library have been more time consuming than ever. I wish I had a little more love to put into his upkeep." He looked up from his lap at the three people, and one dog, staring at him. Walker smiled as Oliveto put his head on his lap. "This is the first chance I've gotten to walk him, myself, in the past four days straight." Walker was slightly hysterical over his beloved pooch's walking predicament.

 

Meanwhile, Sena. Hendrix peered down at the whole scenario, coming up with a solution that could finally close this night out. "Corinth will take charge over Olivet
o’
s care from here on out."

 

Simultaneously, they all looked over at her and said; "what!" Even Oliveto's head rose in question of what the Grand Ministrant had just proposed about who his new caretaker would be.

 

"The students can't have pets. That's against the rules," Criston said.

 

"Yes, it was, against the rules, seventeen years ago
,
” she announced.

But we've made some updates since then. Thank you very much!"

 

Criston was surprised at what she told him. He had no idea how they could handle the poop alone, better yet all the noises animals make. What if every student decided to bring a pet each semester? The space issues it brought up! And what about natural predators, and weird spats between animals that had it out for one another.

 

"Well, I definitely trust Corinth to keep the big O safe. If he's willing to take on the burden," Walker relinquished.

 

Now all eyes were on Corinth. He would be the final decider for the evenin
g’
s last event. He looked down at Oliveto and chirped at him. "Paw! Paw!" The dog just looked at him with his head cocked to the side. But Corinth kept on with it. "Paw! Give me your paw?" He put his hand out to receive Oliveto's paw, and to Walker's surprise, the pup lifted his left paw and placed it in Corinth's hand. "See, I've already got him trained! This should work out fine!" Corinth appeared delighted at the thought.

 

They walked away from The Well Read Walker as he looked on encouragingly at Oliveto. The pooch was slightly reluctant to leave his owner. He wandered away from Corinth's side back to Walker, who still sat on the ground.

 

"Go on, boy," he whispered in the pup's fluffy green ear while rubbing his face between his hands. "Corinth's going to take good care of you. I can feel it."

 

With that, the pup galloped back to Corinth as he was heading up the hill alongside his dad and Sena. Hendrix. They were more than halfway to the Olympia building when Corinth turned back. He noticed something that made him think twice about his da
d’
s mission. He peered down the slanted hillside to the remnants of Hendrix's spell. A large clock-like circle, with a balled up fist at the center was what remained. The fist had one finger that was pointed outward. It seemingly functioned as the hand of the clock-like figure. But this particular clock had no numbers, or anything specific to denote what time it actually was. Inside the oversized glowing purple clock, Corinth noticed the finger, which acted as the hand, moved slightly when his dad entered the Olympia building. From that alone, he could tell that it was time to start taking all of this a lot more seriously.

 

He turned back to the entryway of the building, and above the archway of the large open gate, he saw the schoo
l’
s motto. He squinted his eyes as he looked overhead at the silver letters sculpted onto a large black plaque. The night fog was beginning to thicken, so he squinted to maximum refraction. Finally, he could make out the finely detailed etching. He read the motto aloud, as if he realized some connection between the words, and the events of the night.

 

"Sic Erit In Fatis." Or ... So It Is Fated.

 

After Corinth allowed that moment to pass, he took a look back down the hill. He absorbed the image of all the gazebos, marbles benches, pillars, shrubs, trees and stone paths. His eyes were searching for any other clues about the land that referenced fate. He saw only what he'd seen before, but was satisfied that he knew enough. Sena. Hendrix and Criston had already disappeared into the Olympia building, as the fogs took over the hillside descending just beneath the archway.

 

Corinth and Oliveto stepped off the stone path, and into the vestibule of the building. They felt the warmth of the fires torches, lighting the interior pathway, calling out to them. And while they entered, the outer gate and the inner door automatically closed at their backs. He no longer saw it, but the mark of fate turned one more notch on its clock that lay on the grass fields below. Corinth, blinded by the door and gate, but Walker was well aware of the mark as he eerily moved through the unusually dense fog,toward his home on the West lake. The tra
p
… firmly set.

Chapter 9:
The Wonder Twins & Friend

April 1, 1002 ~ Daylight

 

 

Corinth was wholly surprised when he woke up the next morning. He heard lots of noises coming from outside the window above his bed. Likewise, many sounds poured in from outside his dorm door. He heard people running around and screaming in cheery tones.

 

"Don't forget, okay," some girl encouraged, "okay!"

 

"Sure, sure," was the only response she received.

 

Corinth didn't know what to do or how to feel. Who were all these people chirping about the halls? What time was it? Where were his dad and Sena. Hendrix? He turned and reached upward for the windowsill. He found it after a few pats above his head. He then used it to pull the upper half of his body from beneath the bed comforter.

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