Forever Young (13 page)

Classes were really heating up and I was loving every bit of it. In Weapons class, I originally had my eye on the Katana. I was feeling partial to it since I knew what it felt like to be stabbed by one. Plus the curved, sleek nature of the weapon was beautiful and deadly, a very poetic combination in my opinion. But once we started actually using the weapons in class, I was surprised to find the battle axe felt very natural in my hands. Every time I picked it up, it felt like an innate part of me.

When I would launch the axe at a target, it was almost as if it intuitively knew how to strike dead center. If I swung it at a dummy opponent, it never missed a killing blow. When I used the battle axe in practice fights, I would always win against my opponent. If I used another weapon, I was usually taken down pretty quickly, even though I used basically the same moves and defensive postures.

In class one day, Huron was watching as I was throwing the axe at a stationary target. Most of the other students would get flustered when Huron stood at their sides while they practiced their moves. I, on the other hand, wasn't intimated at all. Once a guy stabs you, you tend to look at him a bit differently.

"You're coming along well with the battle axe, Charlie. I think that is the weapon for you." His voice was deep and soothing. If you closed your eyes and didn't know it was Huron talking to you, his melodic voice was almost hypnotic.

I collected my axe from the target and walked back to where Huron stood, observing my work. His eyes were almost black they were so dark and I was fascinated by the multitude of tattoos that stretched up his neck onto this bald head. He was covered with a veritable art display of runes and ancient symbols that I'm probably sure did something to enhance his magic. But I didn't feel comfortable enough to ask him about them. While his voice had the ability to calm a savage beast, he was still freaky scary to look at.

I nodded in agreement with his assessment about my weapon of choice.

"Yeah, I think I've given an honest chance to the other weapons but I do my best fighting with the battle axe." I aligned my body to the target and let it fly again. I stuck a perfect bull's eye.

Before I could go collect it, Huron put a hand on my shoulder to stop me in place. I turned back to look at him.

"Just remember this, Charlie. The battle axe is indeed a very strong weapon. It can cut down opponents that are much larger than you. But when something is coming at you with a weapon, you had better make sure you know what you are doing. Fight with every ounce of passion you can muster, because if you do not defeat your opponent, the end result in a melee battle is usually death."

My head cocked to the side in inquiry. "Why do melee battles usually end in death?"

"You'll see when you get into actual battle. Here," he indicated by stretching his arms out to the training class, "you practice with targets and fight with blunted weapons so as not to actually hurt each other. In actual battle, there is no time to do anything but figure out how to kill your opponent as quickly as possible. You cannot sustain a melee battle for very long as you'll get worn out. Get in, fight hard, fight fast, and kill your opponent. And don't give up until it's done. And always, always remember that your opponent is striving for those same goals. They are not going to stop until one of you is dead."

His words were so ominous, I involuntarily shuddered. Sometimes I would get so wrapped up in the beauty of Semper Terra or the joy of hanging with my friends, that I would forget I was training for life and death situations. Huron gave very good advice. I would remember it.

My next favorite class was Magical Skills. Much of this class was theory at first and not much practical application, which is weird that I would like it so much. Our instructor was a current Elder to Semper Terra. His name was Bashir El-Ashi and he was born in Lebanon when it was part of the Roman Empire almost a thousand years ago.

Even though he was the most ancient person I had met here, he was the youngest looking person I had seen in Semper Terra. Bashir had only been thirteen when he was recruited to the Alliance. Back then, there was no age limit and they gladly took recruits young and old. Bashir explained on our first day of class that after hundreds of years of watching children die at the hands of daimons, the Elders ultimately raised the age limit.

Needless to say, it was odd having an instructor like Bashir. He had baby smooth skin the color of caramel and there was even some peach fuzz on his chin. His style of dress was interesting. He preferred wearing the traditional serwal trousers but he usually paired them with a surf t-shirt. He was the only person I had found so far that eschewed flip flops in favor of leather sandals.

Bashir’s eyes freaked me out a bit. When I made direct eye contact with him, I could see the centuries of wisdom swimming in their chocolate depths. At those times, there was no doubt he was an ancient being. When I looked at him more vaguely, he looked like nothing more than a boy that should be outside playing baseball and catching frogs. I wondered why Bashir never had a Second Life. I couldn't fathom someone wanting to be stuck in a thirteen year old body for a thousand years. Didn't he want to know what it was like to shave or to kiss a woman or drive a car?

By the third week of Bashir's class, I had learned much about what made Semper Terra tick. The gift of magic in Forever Land flowed naturally into me by virtue of merely being a resident of this AltVeritas. The magic was powerful—almost infinite—and would soon be harnessed into a tattoo that would enable me to use my powers in the First Dimension. Bashir reiterated something that Caiden had mentioned to me twice before. Nothing is impossible in Semper Terra.

In class, I watched amazed as Bashir demonstrated that principle time and time again. With only the power of his imagination, he performed a variety of exhibitions on how to use the power of Forever Land. He could conjure fire in his hands and throw it at an enemy. The fire would not burn his smooth skin but could incinerate his target upon contact. Bashir could create a glamour that changed him from a teen boy into a six foot female bikini model with flowing blond hair. That trick still made me giggle every time I thought about it.

The one thing Bashir did not demonstrate to us physically was the power of flight. He gave us plenty of theory and rather boring instruction on aerodynamics, but he claimed he was too old to fly anymore. Clearly, he didn't mean he was too old physically because he possessed the most youthful body in Semper Terra. No. I think he meant that he was too old spiritually to fly. I guess after a thousand years, it probably lost its shine. Bashir did assure us that he would have help to demonstrate the practical applications when it was time for us to take to the air. That was a day that I could hardly wait for.

The thing that interested me the most was the source of magic on Semper Terra. Caiden had briefly told me of the ancient faery known only as the Great Lady and I had been dying to hear about her ever since I witnessed her magic whisk away the Morstyte daimon that Dane had killed. She was the keeper of the magic of Semper Terra and without her, Semper Terra would be nothing more than a tropical vacation getaway.

I wanted to know everything I could about the Great Lady. She was a fascinating subject. In class one day, I raised my hand. We had been discussing more about aerodynamics.
Boring!

"Miss Wright," Bashir said softly. "You have a question?"

"Yes. Where does the Great Lady live? I mean, does she physically exist?"

Bashir was standing at the front of the classroom. He leaned back against his desk and crossed his arms.

"That was a nice change of subject." The class snickered. "But it's a good question and the answer is I don't know. There have been some people that have claimed to have seen her. Some rumors say she exists on a plane that humans cannot enter. Others don't believe she exists at all."

I remembered Caiden telling me that it boiled down to faith. Did I have faith that she existed? At this point, I couldn't say I did. Everything was too new and the only evidence I had seen about her possible existence was the very magic that now flowed through my blood. But I wasn't sure that it came from the Great Lady or if it came from God himself.

"I've heard she has a connection to Athena."

Bashir nodded. "That's correct. Again, through legends handed down from Elder to Elder, we've been told that Athena gifted her immortality to the Great Lady, who in turn passed it on to Semper Terrans. Athena also gifted her with magical powers and her own traits of wisdom, strength and courage. Those skills are deemed prerequisites for anyone joining the Alliance."

Justas, who was ordinarily very quiet in class—I think because he slept most of the time—piped up. "So we are basically the Great Lady's warriors?"

Bashir chuckled. "That is one way to look at it. It's true that our mission is to fight against evil. It is why the Great Lady gifted us with the ability to see the black aura around those daimons that need to be destroyed."

It was all fascinating to me, probably because history had been one of my favorite subjects back in high school. This knowledge though flared my desire to learn more about why I could see the true nature of daimons before I ever came to Semper Terra. I had mentioned it to Sebastian before and he was going to ask someone about it, but I'd never heard back from him. So I decided to take matters into my own hand to investigate the issue more.

At the end of classes one day, I sought out Bashir to see if he could shed some light on the matter. He was, by far, the oldest person I had met in Semper Terra, and the history of magic was his forte. Just as I turned down the hall that held his office, I ran, literally, into Payton Daugherty. I had my head down as I was walking, lost in my own thoughts. As I turned a corner, we barreled into each other, the force of the impact knocking all of Payton's books from her hands.

Out of polite instinct, I apologized and started to bend down to help her pick up the books. But she looked up at me with a spiteful glare which caused me to straighten back up. If she didn't want my help, so be it. It was too late though to take the apology back that had slipped from my mouth.

Why I sat there and watched as she gathered her books, I had no idea. I guess I didn't want her to think I was intimated by the snotty look she had just given me.

She looked back up at me again and I gave her a sweet smile. "Nice running into you, Payton."

"Don't you have anything better to do than stand around and stare at me?" She gathered her last book and stood up.

I casually leaned against the wall, folding my arms over my chest. "Not really. Does it bother you?"

"Everything about you bothers me," Payton sneered.

I raised an eyebrow at her. "I get that, Payton. I guess I don't understand why. I mean, why are you so hateful to people?" I realized, as I asked that question, I was genuinely interested to hear her answer. I didn't ask the question out of spite or to pick a fight with her. I wanted to know, at that moment, what made her tick.

Something quick flickered across her face. I couldn't pin point what it was, but if I had to guess, I would say it was shame. But just as fast, it was gone and I thought maybe I imagined it.

Her face now was one of haughtiness, and she literally looked down her nose at me.

"I don't hate all people, Charlie. Just the ones that are beneath me." She then stared me dead in the eyes, not a sparkle of any humanity. "Like you."

I'm a pretty tough girl and can hold my own. But something in the tone of her voice—maybe the lack of any human emotion—caused me to flinch. I just didn't understand how someone could be that cold. I peered harder at her for a moment, because maybe—just maybe—she was really a dark daimon.
Nope.
Just the same beautiful Payton Daugherty staring back at me with piercing eyes. I felt goose bumps rise on my skin but shook it off. She wasn't evil. She was just a nasty, cold-hearted person and I was so done with our encounter.

"Well, have a nice day Payton," I said, rather nicely, as I moved past her. "Oh...by the way, I'm glad your bruise healed. Must have cost a fortune in makeup to hide it every day."

I snickered to myself as I heard her curse after me. That was a petty dig I threw at her, but, just like the apology, it has slipped from my mouth and it was too late to take it back.

When I arrived at Bashir's office, I knocked on his opened door and peeked in. He was organizing papers on his desk. They were yellow with age and had Arabic writing by the looks of it. He looked at me with surprise. "Charlie. Come on in. What can I do for you?"

 "I wanted to ask you more about our ability to see the nature of dark daimons."

"Of course, my dear. Have a seat."

It was plain weird having someone so young looking calling me "my dear". I didn't know if I would ever get used to the strangeness of Bashir's existence. I sat down and glanced around his office. It was sparse and plain, with nothing occupying the space but his desk, a few chairs and bookshelves crammed with old, leather bound texts. Looking back at him, he was watching me with a patient smile. I cleared my throat.

"Well, I'm not sure if you had heard but before I ever came to Semper Terra, I could see the daimons beneath their human exterior. I mean, I never saw one with a black aura, but I had seen plenty of different kinds of daimons."

Bashir's pleasant smile melted and his eyebrows shot up in surprise. "I didn't know that. How long have you been able to do that?"

I tamped down the painful grief rising in my chest. "Ever since my parents were killed...when I was thirteen."

Bashir leaned back in his chair and stroked his smooth chin, gazing at me thoughtfully. "That's practically unheard of Charlie. I have read some history texts that mention some people having that ability, but I've never met anyone in my existence that could do that. And frankly, the mentions of it are vague. More myth than fact, really."

I was a little disappointed. I thought Bashir would have the answers to my questions readily at his fingertips. "So, what do you think it means?"