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It all began when Angela Wilson was ten years old, in the warm and wet month of April. She lived with her grandfather in a small cottage that resided in the thick forest that was a good distance away from the closest town. She had no knowledge of her parents, though she knew she hadn’t lived with her grandfather all her life. She couldn’t remember the years before him, and believed this to specifically be because she was so young. Angela felt no urge to learn anything about her dead parents. She was not with them; she was with her grandfather.
The cottage, tucked away neatly in the shadows of a forest so that it barely could be
seen to any outside eye, was small and quaint, and had all she had ever needed. They received no television reception, but that was an unnecessary form of entertainment as far as Angela was concerned. The forest was full of creatures, creeks, ponds, flowers, caves, and any adventure the young mind could think of to create. It was fun whether it was raining, snowing, windy, storming, or just a plain, sunny day. It was always beautiful in the emerald eyes of Angela.
She did not go to the town to get any form of education. Her grandfather, a knowledgeable old man, taught her instead.
“They just teach you nonsense, my girl,” he had said between gulps of his morning orange juice, “so don’t you worry. You’ll be smarter here with me.”
He assured her that at her age, she was far more advanced than she would have been if she had been in that “building full of corrupted youths”. Angela just nodded in agreement, because she did not know if it was otherwise. Strangely enough, she had never felt the urge to be amongst anyone else her age. Her grandfather had never told her that they were bad or that she couldn’t or shouldn’t see anyone her age, but she assumed, that if they went to a building full of corrupted people, wouldn’t they be bad anyway? There had never been an instance in which her grandfather had steered her wrong, or not ended up being right in the end. If there was anyone that could fulfill the definition of trustworthy, it would be him.
Almost more useful than the education he had given her, he had taught her various forms of martial arts. He wanted to make sure that Angela knew how to protect herself if he should ever not be around. When he first started teaching her, he had been very pleased. Apparently Angela was gifted with this as well, and a born natural. He had briefly mentioned her parents, stating that they too were very good with martial arts. Her grandfather didn’t know, but this made her swell with pride.
The only thing that Angela did know about her parents besides that interesting tidbit her grandfather had given her was that she looked so much like her mother. She had thick, streaming red hair that curled exceptionally well when it was hot out. The curls circled around her tan face, looking especially gorgeous with her emerald eyes. Her eyes, her grandfather had explained, had been the only thing she seemed to pick up from her father. They were round and innocent at first sight, but deceiving when examined closer. They showed levels of intelligence that were not normally associated with a mere child. She had a chubbier build, and never once was called 'thin' by her grandfather. Angela never felt much more than an average kid.
On her tenth birthday, her grandfather had to get work in their garden done. They grew mostly what they ate, except for the things that were impossible to grow in their forest, so it was quite necessary for him to get work done. She had long ago accepted the fact upon the first time that a promise had to be broken for fear of their livelihood being ruined. She had spent the day wandering around the forest, visiting her favorite places and playing with whatever wild animals were not too scared to approach her. This didn’t happen very often, but sometimes, sometimes it did, and Angela couldn’t help but feel a special love for the animals that she had been growing up with.
Her grandfather had promised her that they would, in fact, celebrate her birthday the next day. She was perfectly happy with this. She had waited 365 days, so what was wrong with waiting for one more? Her grandfather had planned, as Angela had begged him to, take her down to the town. She wasn’t as interested in meeting the people as she was in seeing what the other buildings were like. Her grandfather had also told her that there were a few artifacts, broken and unusable, leftover from before the Great War had begun. Angela never had fully understood the war, but then again, she had never asked for a good enough explanation. As far as she was concerned, it had changed life for the better, considering what she had been told by her grandfather. Angela never was one to dwell on the past.
The morning that they were to head out, her grandfather had been very uneasy. He appeared to be twitching constantly, and jumped at the drop of a hat. Angela had questioned his odd behavior, but he dismissed it. He told her that there was absolutely nothing to worry about. Today would be his little girl’s special day, and nothing would go wrong for her. He would keep his promise.
“Angela,” he had said, his voice cracking slightly, followed by a nervous swallow, “I need to go check for something important in the forest. I want you to stay put until I get back, alright? I won’t be too long.”
She looked at him with a confused sort of stare, and then said obediently, “Okay, Grandpa.”
At first she had been suspicious and worried, and then realized that there was perhaps a chance that he had something in the forest for her! A birthday present that was too big to hide in the house! Maybe he had found one of the wild horses, or even a tame horse, and got it for her as a present. She was sure that she had never hinted at one, but she knew very well that she tended to talk about them a lot. Either way, if it was present THAT big, then it had to be awesome! Angela now was waiting while almost bursting with the hopeful tension.
Time, opposite of when someone is usually waiting and anxious, went fast. Angela watched as the clock seemed to blur by. The minutes passed, then the hours. Her grandfather did not return. The joy that had settled her stomach was now fluttering around as fear. Her grandfather was not one to keep her waiting too long, nor was he one to lie. She couldn’t understand what could be taking him so long. Had he run into trouble? Had someone from the town come up, angry at him for some unknown reason, and attacked him? Had he run into one of the creatures of the forest that was unfriendly? The thoughts would not stop racing through her mind, and she knew she had to go after him. Her grandfather would never purposely make her worry as she did now.
Angela pulled on her small, white sneakers, and tied a sweatshirt around her waist. It was not cold out for the month of April, but she had been taught to always be prepared. She tucked her house key into her pocket, something she had never needed before, and headed out the door, making sure that the door was locked.
Her feet padded lightly in the ground. It had rained the night before, but not heavily. There were light footprints in the slightly damp dirt, indicating where her grandfather had walked. Her grandfather had taught her, when following animals, about the distance between feet. When the feet were further apart, with the indentations not as deep, the creature was moving faster. She watched as her grandfather’s footprints slowly became further and further spaced apart, barely leaving marks, as if he was being chased by something else. Angela could not see any other footprints in the ground, and could not understand why her grandfather had been running. However, it did make her pick up her pace, the fear now rising.
At her age, Angela was far more mature than the average child, but nonetheless, she was still a child. Her mind was racing with everything that could be wrong, and the thoughts of what she would do if she couldn’t find her grandfather. She had always managed to live away from the town, only going down every once and awhile to get necessary items, but that was all with her grandfather. She couldn’t do any of that her own. Her mind was chanting: She had to find him, she had to find him, she had to find him.
Angela arrived abruptly upon a clearing. She was breathing heavily, not because of the fact that she had started running, but because she was completely riddled with panic. The clearing she was now in was unknown to her, even though she had explored every inch of the area around the cottage. The grass was choppy. There were areas where the grass was ripped away in great, massive chunks. There were small boulders in the clearing, and normal sized rocks, as there were all through-out the forest. However, these were different. There were chunks missing out of the rocks, as if they had been hit forcefully by something heavy. The clearing, peaceful and serene, was ruined by the fact that splattered on the grass and on the rocks was bright, fresh blood.
Her breath became almost completely still. The blood was everywhere. Her eyes focused more: they had been blurred by panicked tears. There was a sword jutting up behind a rock. It was large, easily bigger than her. The hilt was a plain gray, with nothing intricate or special about it. The blade was also simplistic, except for the fact that it was drenched with blood. Near the sword, lying flat on his back was her grandfather. He, too, was splattered with the fresh blood, which now looked to be his own.
“Grandpa!” The sound that came out while she shrieked his name was unfamiliar to her. Angela had never known true terror; had never felt so small and vulnerable. The call that came out was high-pitched, loud, and shaking.
Angela bolted over to his side, stumbling as she went. She felt so weak, like she could barely hold up her body. She fell down on the ground next to her grandfather, ignoring that fact that she was now covered with the same blood that he and the clearing were covered with. The panicked tears had now turned into hysterical sobs as she looked at the gashes that covered his body. There was a rustling in the trees.
“Angela,” He said weakly, not opening his cool gray eyes. She recoiled backward, having been for sure that he was dead.
He spoke again, “Angela, you must listen well… You have to go back to the house. You will gather clothing and food, enough for you just to get to the first town. There is money in a wooden chest underneath my bed. You will take all that it is in it; it will last you a great while,” He coughed, choked, and spat up some blood on his side opposite of Angela. She moved to speak, but he held up his hand to stop her, and continued speaking again, “The money will allow you to travel between different towns; you cannot stay still. You will know when you can stop. Do you understand, Angela?” There was a rustling again; it was louder.
She felt completely overwhelmed. There was none of the usual kindness in her grandfather’s voice. He was firm and strict, even though it was obvious, even to her sobbing eyes, that he was dying. The trees seemed to shake; the rustling was immense.
“Grandpa, w-what are you talking about?” She stuttered, trying to still her tears. “I’m going to take you back… I’ll go to the town, I’ll get the doctor. You’ll be okay, you’ll see!”
He turned his head toward her, opening his eyes. They were already dead looking. His face still did not show kindness. It showed a darker look that she had never seen before, or expected to see. This was her grandfather mixed with fear and anger.
“I love you, Angela. You have to listen. Go NOW.”
The last word snapped like a whip, and she turned and ran. The trees behind her grandfather made a sound like an explosion. As she ran from the clearing, she dared cast a glance back over her shoulder. The trees had come alive, and were wrapping their branches along her grandfather, pulling him away. They were alive but they didn’t have faces. The image would forever haunt her.
She ran faster and faster, afraid that the trees would next come for her. Their thick, wooden branches would coil around her body, crush her bones, drag her away. The trees she had always loved. She ran as fast as she could.
Angela flew from the path as she arrived back at her cottage. Her foot caught on a root and she sprawled out on the ground, skinning the palms of her hands and her knees. She was sure, so sure that the trees were now grabbing her ankles, trying to drag her back so that she could be with her grandfather. She whirled her head around to look back at them, and saw that they were still.
Then she heard it. A loud, cracking noise, and then a large THWOMP. It shook everything, like a low-force earthquake. There was a pause, then it came again. There was no way that this was a moving tree. This was something bigger. She now understood why her grandfather had said to leave him; to run. There would be no way that she could escape with him.
Gathering her courage, she darted into her house, practically breaking the doorknob with the force that she had used her never-used house key. She always kept her room neat, and she was so grateful for it now. She found extra clothes in an instant and her backpack in another few seconds. Not closing it, she skidded into the kitchen. She blindly threw a loaf of bread, a few vegetables,
and a bag of apples into her pack, and zipped it up. She dashed as quickly as she could into her grandfather’s room, snatching the money he had spoken of, not even pausing to examine the curious looking box. She fled, not bothering to close the door. The great, big THWOMP came again, and it was closer, and there were more of them, more frequently.
Angela dared take one look back at her cottage before she ran from the place she lived forever; the place where she would never be able to return. As she turned away, the wood and stone cottage exploded into pieces. From that day on, all the sounds and all those images from those few hours would haunt her in her dreams, and when she woke.
She was the first to see the monsters.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It had been simpler than she had expected to be, but it was still hard for Angela. She was racking her mind with possible reasons for why this had all happened. It had all been so odd. Why would someone want to kill her grandfather? She rarely ever saw him interact with anyone in the years she had been with him.
Though, more importantly, why had the trees moved, and what had destroyed her house?
She didn’t have that much time to think about it. She traveled to the closest town, just as she had been instructed to do. She ended up lingering for not even a day: She had tried to tell one person what had happened, but he had just started laughing and shaking his head. He muttered something under his breath that didn’t sound too nice, so she just left. There was nothing in that town for her. Angela had no idea why she expected someone to believe that the trees had moved. It was pure ludicrous.
It was the next town, however, that had shaped her path for her.
Angela remembered loving the town when she first saw it. It was a hodge-podge of buildings. There were ruins of buildings left over from the Great War. Then there were crude buildings that were constructed when people were desperate for housing, followed by the ones constructed when they finally had the time to take. There weren’t as many people as there had been in the last town. She had expected to see people milling along the sides of the street, looking in the various shops, but there were only a few people, scurrying about.
She paused for a moment in front of the store window of a local grocery store. Just as she was crunching into one of the apples that had been safely stored
away in her bag, she noticed the display stand full of shiny red apples. A smirk spread across her face, because her apple looked far tastier, and she had grown it herself.
A man came out of the grocery store. He wore a white apron which was splattered with god-knows-what, but it was colorful. He had a stocky stature, and a big, bushy, black mustache. In his right hand was a broom that still had bits of produce stuck to the bottom of it. His left hand was clenched into a fist, and he was shaking it.
“You little brat!” He snarled, his lips curling up. “Were you plannin’ on paying for that apple? No, right? Thought I wouldn’t catch you, huh?”
Angela stared at him, her green eyes blinking in a confused pattern. She didn’t know what he was going on about. Sure, she knew the concept of purchasing things from stores: her grandfather had made sure she knew the concept of stealing, and how it was bad, yadda yadda yadda. Didn’t the man realize that her apple was far better looking than his apples, and there was no way that she could have stolen from his bin?
“Um, this is my apple,” Angela said, feeling awkward as she spoke to the very first person other than her grandfather in many years, “I grew it back home.”
The man let out a hearty laugh, his great big belly rolling up and down with every guffaw.
“That’s a good one, kid! You look like you honestly think that I’m going to believe you!”
“But it is mine!” She said tartly back at him. What was his problem?
Apparently, the fat grocer was done with discussion. He swung his broom at her, narrowly missing her face by inches. Her apple, which had still lingered near her mouth, fell the ground and rolled into a patch of mud. It would have been alright if it had just been skin, but she had already eaten it all away.
“Stop it!” She cried, taking a light step back so that her heels popped off the ground, “That was my apple! My grand father and I have
(had)
a farm back home!”
There was another snort of laughter. “Keep lying, brat. I’m going to knock your teeth out. I’ve had it with my stuff being stolen!”
He moved to swing again, but a rock struck him square on the side of the head. He growled with pain, and both he and Angela turned to see where the rock had come from.
There were two of them, standing directly across the street. She couldn’t tell exactly, but they had to be somewhere around her age. They were both boys, and one was tossing another rock up and down. He had sandy blonde hair capped off by an orange bandana, and a cocky grin. His skin was tan, the type of tan that never went away. His eyes were the bland color of mud, but they sparkled with a boyish deviance. His dress code was grubby, which was the same as his companion. Neither of them looked like they had bathed in days, and she silently was afraid of what they might smell like. He was much shorter than the other one, but that was because the other one looked awkwardly tall. It did not match his young boy’s face. He had shaggy black hair that hung just past his ears; it looked liked he hadn’t had a haircut in years. Angela could not tell what his eyes looked liked, because they were covered by some sort of visor. The outer rim of it was black, and the glass (plastic?) coating was neon green. It looked strangely like something she had seen out of a science fiction novel she had recently read.
“Hey!” The boy with the orange bandana yelled. “Ya better leave ‘er alone, ya fat slob!” His voice was an odd sounding accent, and it startled Angela, as she had never heard any sort of accent before. The boy chucked another rock at the man, hitting him in the side despite the fat grocer’s attempt to block it with his broom.
Angela looked curiously at them as the man brandished his broom furiously, snarling back at them, “Oh, look, more brats! I’ll just have to take care of all of you!”
He swung his broom again at Angela, who only just barely dodged it, as she had been staring intently at the two boys. This provoked the sandy haired boy to yell, “Ah, come on, girl! Ya better get outta there! Come o’er this way!”
As the man pulled his broom back to swing again, Angela jumped into the street and bolted across the street toward the two boys. They waited for her to catch up, then began to run with her, staying just ahead presumably so that they could lead her. The obese purveyor tried desperately to keep up with them, but his flabby body quickly fell behind. He was no match for young, healthy children. Sandy haired boy started laughing, and the other boy merely smirked as the man started yelling various curse words at them.
Despite the fact that they had long outrun the man, they continued to run until they reached the far side of the smaller town, where it was met by the large forest that Angela had been traveling in before. They slowed to a steady walk,
and entered into the forest, all of them panting heavily and sweaty, but definitely satisfied.
Catching her breath as they slowed to a stop once safe under the trees, Angela adjusted her hair and said, “Thank you for that… I have no idea why that man thought that I would have stolen that apple!”
The boy with the visor gave a slight snort, and the other one raised his eyebrows. He then said, “Man, ya aren’t from around ‘ere, are ya? Kids swipe stuff all the time, ‘specially the orphans. Are ya sayin’ that was really yours?”
“Yes!” Angela exclaimed. “I kept trying to tell him…”
“Forget about it.” The other boy said, speaking for the first time. His voice was a bit deeper than the other boy’s, and a lot more calm sounding. He seemed unemotional about the whole situation. “You could have had all the proof in the world, and that man would have kept beating you with the broom until you were just a puddle on the ground.”
Angela hung her head a little. She was itching to say something about how the people on the outside world were. The word that came to mind was ‘barbarians’, but she didn’t think that that would be very kind to say to the people who had just come to her aid.
“Anyway,” the louder boy started, “My name is Blair.”
“Adam.” The other boy said simply.
“I’m Angela. Angela Wilson.” She said, and clumsily did a little curtsy that her grandfather had taught her ‘just in case’.
Adam raised his left eyebrow slightly, than quickly lost interest in her introduction. Blair, however, smiled broadly and said, “Sorry for our lack o’ last names. Must make us sound rude! Ya see, we ‘ave ne’er ‘ad parents before, so we dun know ‘bout our last names. Isn’t that right, Adam?”
There was a nod of agreement, which was then followed by an awkward silence. Angela was so happy to have the human contact, but she didn’t understand what to do now. Her grandfather had tried so hard to teach her social skills, but it was difficult when there was no one to practice on. Thoughts of what she could possible say to them next were racing through her mind, crashing into each other and not allowing any to come to the front.
Finally, she said, “So… um… well, I don’t have any parents anymore… And my grandfather is gone
(dead)
and he told me to just keep traveling between towns before he went, so… what do you guys do?”
Blair and Adam exchanged glances. This time both of them had their eyebrows raised. Looking at her curiously, Adam stated, “We were told recently by an old lady that we, too, were to travel the towns and not stay in one place for too long. What an odd coincidence.”
“Hey! Hey! I know!” Blair said, bouncing up and down excitedly. “You can travel with us, Angela! We could use the extra company, you know?”
Angela now found herself smiling, the first time she had genuinely done so since the events that had caused her to leave. Blair looked at Adam for some reassurance of his plan, then back at Angela for a sign of affirmation.
“Well, I guess if we have to do the same thing…” She said slowly, though really, she was thinking of how she really didn’t want to be alone. “We can go ahead and travel together!”
“Excellent!” Blair cried, punching the air. “Hey, Adam, this is gonna be great, ya jus’ wait!”
Adam gave another little snort in response, and then started to walk further into the forest.
On the second night that Angela had begun her journey with Adam and Blair, she found out something that she found to be quite shocking. It was, in fact, the Great War that her grandfather had never spoken to her about.
Blair and Angela had been chatting rapidly as Adam silently stared off into the distance. The fire they had made was crackling lightly, spitting up sparks every now and then. They could hear an owl hooting, and other animals in the forest, but other than that, it was quiet. The animals were the ones that were probably annoyed by the children’s voices.
“Nothin’?” Blair said, dumbfounded. “Yeh know nothin’ of the Great War?”
“I didn’t say nothing!” Angela said, her face turning bright red at her embarrassment. This apparently was a common fact that she should know. “It began in … uh…”
“Ah, yeh ‘ave no idea!” Blair exclaimed, leaning back so that his bright hair
touched the dark bark of the nearby tree. He let out an exasperated sigh then turned his head toward her. “Angela, what do yeh know?”
She lowered her eyes, turning her gaze toward the dirt on the ground, and a particularly interesting leaf. “… Nothing, really … I saw something in a book about it once, and I asked Grandpa about it… He just told me not to worry about it.”
“Well, sit back an’ listen, girlie. I’m gonna tell yeh, okay?” Blair said. When she gave a nod in response, he began:
“Alright, I’m gonna start from the beginnin’. This is what I know, so don’t ask questions. A few years before 5950 … I’m not sure ‘bout what date exactly … Some strange things were spotted in the sky. Things that looked like they were gonna be headin’ toward us, yeh know? Well, see, life was so perfect here on Terna, with our incredible technology, that no one really cared what was goin’ on up in the sky and beyond. Since we had ignored all o’ that, no one really believed anythin’ could be comin’. Bunch o’ idiots, if yeh ask me. Needless to say, we shoulda paid attention to it. Those guys who found out what was gonna happen … Well, they fled. Off in the only space crafts that Terna had bothered to create. They knew the most, and they were gone.”
“Ah, anyway. In the year 5950, we were attacked. I don’t know what they things that attack us looked like… I’ve heard so many different descriptions, so no one knows for sure, yeh see? Either way, they were far greater than us… We had all been livin’ the cushy life, an’ no one was ready. We sucked up all our resources, includin’ human lives, and barely won. From what I heard, we weren’t even the ones that really won… They said some sorta creatures came outta nowhere and finished ‘em off for us… The ones who remained fled off in their ships…”
“So, after that, we just sorta went back to a different style of life… Almost ancient, yeh know?”
“We ‘ad a better lifestyle than the people from ancient times did, mostly sanitary-wise and housin’-wise … However, we were at a lack of defense and weaponry and all that … So most people started to learn how to use swords and that… back to the basics! So, that’s why everythin’ is as you see it now… There used to be houses that actually gave yeh everythin’ yeh needed … Now there are barely airtight and warm homes. Instead o’ guns… it’s who ‘as the scarier lookin’ blade or somethin’.”
By now, Adam was looking over, his face as solemn as ever. Angela found herself completely speechless. When she had heard the term “Great War”, she never thought of what it actually could have done. They had such advanced technology, that houses gave them what they needed? How could they have lost
it all?
“But Blair,” Angela finally said, “if we had such great technology, how did we do so poorly?”
Blair hung his head a little, his face so serious that Angela thought she was no longer looking at the same person. Though she had only known him for a short while, she knew that this was not something she would see often. Even Adam seemed to show signs of surprise by Blair’s expression.
“Magic, Angela.” He said with a firm sincerity. “They ‘ad powers that we could only dream of… That’s what out there, beyond Terna…”
Angela ran her fingers through her hair, stressed about what she had just heard. It was true that hardly anything was known about the worlds outside of their own. It was automatically assumed that the people of Terna were the greatest life forms that would ever be found, considering they were the most powerful ones on their own planet. She almost felt sick to her stomach when she thought of other people, somewhere out there that had the ability to summon powers from their own being.
She then stood up abruptly, her cheeks bright red. She exclaimed, “I need to go to sleep. I need to think about this on my own.”
Breaking away from them and the safety of the fire light, Angela walked a good fifteen feet away from them, not wanting them to see her, or to see them. Her eyes were brimming with tears, and she was pretty sure she knew why.
In the past weeks, she has lost her grandfather, and it had been in a surreal way. The trees had moved on their own. Could this be the same magic that had nearly destroyed the human race years ago? If that was the case, then it was proof that there was further reason to worry. Since all resources were gone from the prior war, how would they defend themselves? It didn’t seem possible; that was a sure fact.
As Angela’s mind played with all the ideas and all the scenarios of what could happen next, she drifted into a fitful, disturbed sleep, while Blair and Adam talked in low voices…
There were six of them, and there were odd shadows in the background. Though the shadows’ genders were impossible to tell, the others were obvious. There were three females, and three males. They were mostly silhouettes, barely stronger looking than the shadows. One male was older, but she could only tell by his voice, and he stood before her, or where Angela assumed she was in her dream.
‘Trust.’ The man spoke. ‘You must trust where your life has lead you. Don’t be afraid.’
‘Afraid?’ Angela questioned. Her voice seemed distant, far away from her own ears. ‘Why should I be afraid?’
‘Horrors.’ He said, nodding. ‘There will be horrors. You have to protect yourself, and your newfound friends, and then you will be saved. Then you can save us, as well.’
‘What? Save who? What is this? Isn’t this a dream?’
The man threw his head back, laughing. The sound was warm, calming. However, Angela did not relax. There had never been such intensity in a dream of hers.
‘Believe.’ He said, with another nod. ‘Just believe, dear child. Your job is to guide. Soon, very soon. You will see then. Yes. Times are changing.’
The group of them, both the shadows and the silhouettes, moved forward, the shadows looking like whispering ghosts. The shortest one, which looked female, came forward.
‘Epic. Epic Eternal. Epic…” The next words that came out of her mouth were foreign. They were beautiful sounding, and reminded her of something she had read in a book.
Or a memory…
Angela awoke, finding that it was just the break of dawn. Looking over by the snoring boys, she had a feeling that this was only the beginning.
She had been told not to be afraid.
Angela had decided not to tell the boys about the dream she had the night before. She hadn’t known them for too long, obviously, and she didn’t want them to decide that they might as well go different ways because the red-haired girl was as crazy as she was naive. Besides, she barely understood the dream herself, and what was she going to say other than an explanation? There was no ‘so what’.
So when Blair asked her how she was doing the next morning, she simply replied
‘fine’. His gaze stayed a little longer on her tired looking face, possibly waiting for her to say something else, then decided that that was all she was going to say to them. The three of them packed up their few belongings, re-adjusted their backpacks, and were off again. They, after all, had been told to keep moving.
Their initial walk for the day wasn’t that long. They came upon a town that Blair announced was named “Koshi”. He said the town was supposed to be named after someone, possibly a war hero, but he couldn’t quite remember who. Adam proceeded to tell him that he was just obsessed with telling stories, which initiated a mini-fist fight. Angela giggled at their antics, feeling a little bit better now.
Her mood went down, as did the boys’ moods, when they arrived in the outskirts of Koshi. There were people speaking in hushed voices, huddled up against the brick buildings, their eyes darting around. When they saw Angela, Blair and Adam, they skulked away in a great hurry. Angela found she was feeling rather insulted. It wasn’t like the children were suspicious looking.
Koshi itself was a depressing town, plain and simple. The red-brick buildings had faded to a dull brown, full of chips and cracks. It looks as if someone had taken a hammer at decided buildings that would be fun to smash. There were insects dwelling in some of the cozy crevices, their ugly eyes leering down at the passing children. In all the buildings and homes, it was rare to find a window that was not boarded up, and if they found one, it was full of holes or so heavily covered in mud that no one could see through them. Doors creaked like an old man’s bones when the doors swung open and shut, making the opener cringe every time they had to go through. Fortunately enough for them, they seemed to rarely find a need to pass through. There seemed to be a constant cloud of gray that perpetually hung over the town. Angela could feel a cool mist on her cheeks, as if she had walked into a whole new world. It was hard to believe that she had just been strolling through a perfectly cheerful forest.
“Blimey…” Blair let out, his warm eyes seeming to cool because of the air. He was looking around with the look of a child who just found that Santa Claus wasn’t real.
“This place isn’t right.” Adam said in his normal stern tone. He did not seem to be affected by the graveyard-feel of the town. “I think we should get through here as fast as possible.
Angela was only half listening to the two, as she had moved ahead in attempts to find someone to ask some questions. She didn’t understand how a place could feel so sad, or why the people went out of their way to avoid them.
Soon enough, there was a woman who did not run when Angela approached
her. In fact, she smiled down at Angela. She had frightening gray eyes, that looked like they had once held much color, but they were not cold. Her face was full of wrinkles; she was elderly. When she showed her teeth, they were well kept. Her gray hair hung free in front of her shoulders, falling just short of sagging breasts.
“Excuse me,” Angela began politely, “but what is going on here? Why does everyone stay away from us?”
By now Blair and Adam had caught up with her. Adam stood back a few feet, whereas Blair stood protectively at her side. He didn’t say anything, and let Angela lead the way in conversation.
The old lady laughed. Reaching into her pocket, she withdrew a cigarette between clenched fingers, then a lighter from the opposite. She bit the death stick with her clean teeth then flicked the lighter. The flame that came out was low, almost failing. It was almost out of fuel. She took a long drag, then turned her head and blew the smoke away from Angela.
“Shadows.” She said, her voice like crackling fire. Angela felt her heart leap; shadows reminded her of her dream. “There have been strange shadows, my young child. I don’t believe shadows can kill,” she let out a hoarse laugh, “but the other villagers disagree. I don’t believe shadows can kill.”
Angela shuddered then felt Blair holding her hand. He wasn’t holding it for his own behalf, she could tell, and she felt slightly reassured. Adam crossed his arms and let out a small snort, looking off to the side at a centipede that was busy scuttling over the side walk.
“Oh, Angela,” –a gasp from the young girl and squeeze from the sandy-haired boy- “You will meet your destiny soon. In fact, it lies in that direction.”
The woman lifted her hand, pointing with her cigarette. She was indicating the direction just North of town, where a dark forest lay. It looked more like a jungle in comparison to where they had come before.
“Don’t be afraid.” She then laughed. When Angela looked away from the forest and back at the woman, she nodded, somewhat like a short bow, and vanished.
Adam’s arms dropped to his side and he took a step forward, staring intently at the spot where the woman had last stood. Angela was now clinging completely to Blair, who looked more confused about her doing that rather than the fact that a human being had vanished right in front of him.
“It wasn’t just a dream…” Angela whispered, her voice trailing off and disappearing into the cold wind that blew. It was too cold for April.
“What are yeh talkin’ ‘bout, Angela?” Blair said, releasing her as a solution to his awkward problem.
Looking down at the faded asphalt, Angela told them of her dream that was more than a dream.
