The Seer Ring
“Just give her the ring so we can move on to the next shut in,” nagged the scruffy boy of about eighteen. His shaggy russet hair, which had looked as if it had not been washed in weeks, hung strangely in front of his eyes making his long expression oddly obscure on his short and stubby face.
“Alastair gave us direct orders in cases like this. We cannot just give the ring to her, we must explain. Only then can she choose to accept it, “declared the second boy who compared to the first portrayed a perfectly well kept politician. Sun bleached blonde hair was flawlessly combed over so as not a single strand was found out of place. The gray stripes on his ironed blue button down matched perfectly with the cloud like tint in his eyes and as he rocked back and forth a slight squeak sounded from his brown suede shoes.
The second boy huffed in return.
“I-I really need to be going. My mom and dad will be worrying soon.” Tory, who knew this was a bold faced lie, for she could go missing for days at thirteen without her father even looking for her, was strangely afraid of these young men standing in front of her.
“You heard her,” the unkempt one dragged on. “She doesn’t want it. Now let’s go back and-”
“Shut it Lachlan,“ bellowed the cleaner boy who now Tory knew as Grant, due to the rectangular name plate that was placed on his shirt pocket. “You may wait in the car.”
As the two boys exchanged menacing glances Tory, who was now growing more nervous as the suns yellow rays seemed to be disappearing with the minutes, searched around for shortcuts she could take if she had to run for it.
“Sorry about that,” Grant apologized as he regained the composer he had lost momentarily from the other man’s presence. “I’m Grant Renfield, liaison for the MWC, although I am sure you have never heard of us before, what with your mother passing away and all.”
Tory, who had not been listening but discussing an in depth escape route and displaying a fake quizzical look instantly became attentive at the mention of her recently deceased mother.
“So I’ve caught your attention, I see.”
The streets seemed to empty around them as the small town lamps flickered on.
“You knew my mother,” Tory questioned as her lengthy chestnut colored hair lifted around her with the sudden gusts of Iowa wind. Little by little an uncertain feeling bubbled up inside her chest like a pot of boiling water which had for too long been left on the burner.
“Knew her? Well I think many people in the MidWorld knew her my dear,” stated Grant with an enormous smile. “She was a beautiful girl, even as a baby and honorable too.”
Tory’s gazed at him oddly, he was clearly a stalker or mentally unstable. All Tory’s mother had been known for was President of Clean Water; a firm of Marine Biologist whose mission was to keep the oceans clean. This of course required her to travel often and work late.
“But never mind that now,” exclaimed Grant whose smile was still lingering. “What concerns me now is you. Shall we?” And like a dancer Grant motioned his hands away from his body and towards the door of Café Fleur which Tory had just came out of. “It’s important that we talk and if I really was a stalker or mentally unstable,” he smiled as he repeated her thoughts back to her, “would I really be inviting you back into a crowded café?”
Tory thought for a moment and with no urge to return home to piles of homework and an unresponsive father, and an even greater urge to possibly evoke some worry or emotion in him at all; she replied with a feeble “I guess so,” and walked nervously back inside.
“What about your friend though,” Tory questioned trying desperately to get as much information as she could before she indulged in a full-fledged discussion about any part of her life.
“Oh Lachlan,” he said remembering the other boys absence as they entered the café which was covered in hand painted dandelions and conveyed a steady murmur of chatter like that of a buzzing bee hive. “He’s very new to the job and I’m afraid he’s become accustomed to the inside of the car,” he once again stated in a ramble that made absolutely no sense when it escaped his lips. “And I’ll admit,” he whispered to her, “I quite like it that way.”
“Anyways onto business,” he declared professionally as he wiped a smear away from his name tag and pulled out a chair to an empty table for Tory to sit at and then continued to take a seat himself. “I’m afraid cases like yours waist a lot of unnecessary time and I have to make it to China before noon.”
“Did you forget to take your medication today? I could call someone for help.” The comment that Tory had made was meant to be serious and potentially helpful but instead came out half sarcastic and snide.
“Oh no, no my dear girl,” he chuckled exuberantly and to Tory’s surprise once again reminded her of her deceased grandfather.
The smell of chocolate and cinnamon filled the café’s air as she watched the boy shake his head regretfully.
“I keep forgetting I must tell you the basics before I come off as a nut,” he laughed again as he gently patted his blonde hair in place, the thick strands appearing much thinner as seconds passed.
“Too late,” Tory muttered under stifled breath then quickly asked her baby sitter Kathy, who was serving their table, for two cups of hot chocolate.
“Anyway, I’ve come here to give you something very special; something that every boy and girl look forward to getting from their parents. Unfortunately in cases like yours my services and those of my partner,” he stated with resentment, “are required.”
The blonde-haired boy whose gray eyes seemed to be darkening with wisdom gave a weak smile filled with sadness. “I’ve come to give you this.” With those few words the crazy yet kindhearted man placed a simple silver ring onto the square mahogany table.
She watched it glimmer under still light.
Tory, who couldn’t help but feel a slight twinge of disappointment with the little silver object that sat merely in front of her, pushed the ring back with animosity.
“Every boy and girl waits for their parents to give them a ring. Really?” she snapped.
“No, no,” he laughed and again Tory noticed the once perfect teenage complexion seemingly becoming speckled with what looked to be age spots. “This is a proposal Ms. Sinzley.”
“I’m too young for marriage,” Tory joked as her eyes flashed between the man and the silver ring which now seemed to be drawing her in.
“Spunk just like your mother.” The ageing boy took a deep breath and continued. “Haven’t you always wondered why strange things tend to happen around you,” asked Grant. “Why you are able to move things with your mind although I am sure you have convinced yourself otherwise.”
Tory, who had become instantly rigid at the mention of moving objects with her mind as well as the strange mishappenings that lent great way to why she was lacking a normal amount of friends, felt momentarily defensive. “Powers, I don’t have any powers,” she whispered.
“Oh but you do.” Grant paused taking in another deep breath in order to find the right words to convey some huge meaning. “If your mother was around the day you got your seer ring than I am sure it would have been a day to look forward to.
Grant smiled a larger set of snowy white teeth.
“It would be a welcoming into a world that has been rightfully yours sense birth.”
“Seer ring,” Tory asked without necessarily placing it into question form for her disbelief formed in every syllable.
“Oh yes a great invention. Many centuries ago it was a ritual that would be performed on the girl or boys thirteenth year but two great inventors by the name of Bernie Yearborn and his brother Grashner found a way to put that magic into a ring like the one in front of you.”
Tory just continued staring in a frozen disbelief.
“It would show you a world that invisibly coexists with the one you know so well. A witch’s world my dear,” he stated with a laugh as he watched Tory’s eyes bulge with skepticism. “Your world,” he finished.
As these last words spilled from tight pink lips a crème colored button sprang from the aged boy’s shirt and clanged loudly on a nearby coffee cup. The effect of this unplanned event sent many heads turning in search of what made such an indescribable clink. A few heads turned to look at the two of them. Tory had a startled white stricken complexion and her chestnut brown hair seemed to hang like a curtain in front of her scared face, while Grant who had aged about ten years in those ten minutes, put his hand over a tan peace of fat that was now poking out from an unbuttoned area of his bulging blue shirt. He was looking slightly more robust and quite disheveled.
Tory’s fingers tightened around the ceramic china cup as she pushed the strange words forcefully from her full color drained lips. “I’m not a witch. I mean I can’t be. My mom would have told me. She would have-”
“Made sure you knew,” Grant stated finishing her thoughts flawlessly. “Uhm, well, yeah,” he said for the first time stumbling. “That we are not sure of. We do know that once she married your father, a mortal,” he added, “and left her position as MidWorld Council member she sought help from unknown sources to make her and her new family untraceable.” He sighed as if this was a heavy burden on him. “This made it very difficult to find you, might I add.”
“But,” he added with an extra shot of vigor, “since she passed away before you were of age to receive your seer ring, and for that I am sorry,” he stated expressing once again his remarkable ability to sidetrack, “ her job of informing you has been left to me.”
Tory rubbed her thumbs against her temples. The overload of information that any sane person would think incapable of grasping spilled into Tory’s mind like hot molten lava. As if anymore could add to the insanity of the situation at hand a louder crash than the one the button had made sounded from a nearby table.
Tory looked over at a disgruntled man who was comforting his date and aiding to the gash that sat freshly on her rose colored cheek. A shattered teacup covered the table and warm brown liquid streaked down the dandelion wall and the women’s white blouse embarrassingly exposing a pink bra beneath.
Tory looked back at the man in front of her, her face displaying a look of incomprehensible guilt as she attempted to zone the man and women’s swears as the exited the café.
Grant who seemed to be ever more aging as the minutes ticked on gave Tory a knowing glance followed by a devil may care grin that let her know although she caused the cup to explode it wasn’t her fault. And after a few moments of silence Tory also knew that the basics had been covered and now it was her turn to talk, or more so question.
“So my mom wasn’t a marine biologist,” Tory asked. Instantly she felt it was a stupid first question but she needed to start with the basics of what she knew. “The Clean Water firm was just a-”
“Cover, yes,” Grant answered while he once again took the words straight from her mouth. It was definitely a cover; for what we haven’t found out. All we know is up until she married your father and had you she was one of six members of the MidWorld Council. One of the best.” Grant smiled politely. “But when she resigned everything after that is unknown.”
“Very secretive,” he murmured to himself then looked back up at her with shimmering eyes which pleaded politely for her to ask a different question, but Tory pushed on.
“So if she resigned and we became untraceable how did you find me?”
The still aging Grant pulled a white napkin from his pocket and tapped his eyes which Tory could now see were leaking large tears. “Any trace is broken Ms. Sinzley, when the person who placed it passes.” He shoved his napkin back into his pocket and took a few slugs of the lukewarm hot chocolate. “When we found you it became clear that your mother had not told you of our world.”
Although there were more questions Tory could ask which were of greater importance she knew that this man didn’t have the answers, and so she continued to stick with questioning the basics. “You keep saying MidWorld. What is that?”
“The MidWorld is the magical world. It is the word the coexists with the one you see now,” Grant stated while sneaking in a quick yawn. “This is a world that only witches and magical folk can see if the ring is accepted.”
“Magical folk,” Tory inquired brashly.
“Oh, yes my dear. Witches are not the only magical blood people,” he grinned, “or creatures.”
Before Tory could get him to give out a full list of names and examples Grant glanced at his watch with impatience and back up at her. “I am so sorry that I do not have enough time to tell you all that comes with accepting this ring and I can only hope that you will meet those who will have the time to tell you everything that may be of importance.”
“But what about the rest of my family. I know you said my father was a mortal but what about all those on my mom’s side.”
“The family tree of magic is tricky to decipher for those who have both magical and mortal blood. I do not have enough information to pin point who in your family is like you and your mother.”
Tory grimaced and Grant did as well; they both realizing how much information he didn’t know. “You keep saying magical blood. Well what makes me different from any other person. What do I just get chosen to get a ring and that it?”
“Think clearly my dear girl. The ring just allows you to see what has been hidden. The power that you have, moving things,” he whispered, “has been with you sense birth; along with many other abilities you will come to know.”
“So my father,” Tory asked in a rush; for Grant was not only growing older but more impatient, “am I allowed to tell him that I am a witch?” Saying this was more difficult and exhilarating that anything she had ever said before.
“Oh yes, I knew I was forgetting something,” Grant said as a few more wrinkles seemed to sprout like crow’s feet at the corner of his eyes. “If you accept this ring than it is up to you whether or not you tell non-magical family members although it is against MidWorld law to tell those that are mortal and not blood related.
“Laws,” she questioned with a wary tone. Although Tory had no one to tell except her new friend Sam she felt the need to ask anyways.
“Don’t worry that is the only law that has ever been created by the council; for safety purposes of course.”
“But what if I do tell someone? Are they going to throw me into magic prison,” she asked sarcastically.
Grant who was honestly bemused laughed and attempted to stop choking on the sip he had attempted to swallow. “No. Truthfully little will happen, but if you are found to have any connection to a possible threat of exposure than you will be in trouble.”
“Just remember,” Grant added. “This ring is welcoming you into a world that only you and others like yourself will be able to see and participate in. Remember that there may be those who could use this information against you and some who may not believe you all together; because to some Ms. Sinzley believing is seeing.”
“This ring,” Tory began to question once again knowing that this was the most important question yet and realizing that Grant, who looked thirty years older than his original self, was looking more determined to leave, “will show me the world my mother saw when she was my age?”
“Yes this is a definite so. She herself accepted the ring from me just days after her thirteenth birthday. One of my very first jobs, and very pleasant like yourself,” he added.
Tory although still seemingly reluctant, for her one true desire was to get closer to her mother in anyway, smiled slowly. “One more thing I must tell you before I go,” Grant exalted. The sun, which has given the dingy café of little Dimsden Iowa a little light, now, disappeared leaving only the musky wall candles to generate glow.
“The seer ring once put on cannot be removed but once, and if it is than it must be done by the ring wearer and of free will. The removal of the ring signifies a refusal of the MidWorld and all of the wearer’s magic. This means Tory that your powers will cease to exist.”
Tory continued to toss the ring in hand and a feeling of warmth similar to that of a nearby fire trickled along the palms of her hands.
“Wow, I must be going just remember the rings welcoming only last until the stroke of midnight my dear Cinderella,” he said jokingly with a beaming smile. “It was,” he said in a formal conclusion as he pulled out his chair and stood to take her hand and give it a firm shake, “delightful at last to meet the daughter of the beautiful Ms. Kinsley.” Grant dropped his hand and pushed in the chair leaving his eyes on Tory’s. “I hope you accept the same welcoming your mother did,” and with that Grant who now looked sixty five left, with a thinning head of blonde hair, a jolly robust stomach, and a pair of splitting pants looking greatly like the grandfather version of the young boy she had first met.
“So have you made your decision?” The voice that for a split second Tory assumed to be nothing other than her own conscious, but was in actuality Kathy asking if she was in need of a ride home, sounded like thunder.
Nodding her head no to Kathy, who then informed Tory that she would soon be closing down shop, Tory walked out into the darkness, the world a newer place than the first time she left.
“My choice,” Tory spieled aloud as the moon illuminated the fiery specks of orange in her sapphire eyes, “is too see,” and with that she slipped the ring on her finger, with no need for the stroke of midnight. The word welcome flashed like blazing iron across the simple silver ring that would forever sit on Tory's finger.
