The light flitted through the thick foliage of the trees. The spring air was crisp with a bit of the lasting winter chill. Birds raced about and, every now and then, a butterfly would land on me. I sighed in this moment of pure quiet bliss but soon wondered how long it would last.
As I lay there, staring out at the sky, I hear screaming in the distance. Is it my mind, again? I close my eyes to chase my demons away and realize that the screaming is very real. But it soon gives way to kiddish laughter, making me smile with a breath of relief. My heart slowing back to a slow rhythmic pace.
I clamber up from the grass and dust myself off, glad that I took a moment to meditate. Retrieving my grip on reality, I return to my day. Another one caught in the grey. Somewhere between the past and somewhere something inside me is searching for.
All of the birds from the sidewalk disperse as I kick at them. New screams ensue, these ones terrible and hurt. Disturbed, I walk toward the sound of these poor souls.
What have we here?
A new mother holds her toddler as a sluggish stream of blood flows from a cut. The child is in tears and his mother's hysteria doesn't help. Although, not unfounded. This town... So many people have been dying in random accidents. This town is cursed with a spell of bad luck.
I wouldn't believe in luck. But I have seen too much to deny it. But this form of "luck" I believe in isn't random. Magic flows through this earth. Deep into its heart. I feel it. Like an electric current that keeps me anchored here. Keeps me aware.
Though some... call me paranoid.
Light, haunting chimes are heard in the distance as though from some giant music box. I have to keep reminding myself that the Autumn Carnival has arrived. Maybe I am over thinking these sounds. Or maybe I am overly sensitive. Nevertheless one can always find solace among the tomes.
The Library being only a few blocks away, I decidedly journey into it's comforting depths. It also helps that I need to do some research for a college paper. History. I need a book on 16th century history and culture. Maybe I will find some enticing reads from Amethyst Bryer? She always has old books in stock. I found one from the 17th century once, might find older.
The Library is still; but, chillingly so with nobody in sight at first entry. Ameth might be in the back room again, working on another project. Every now and again, I see an occasional wanderer shuffling through the book selections. More or less the new things. Ameth always keeps the truly ancient away from public view in the back room. Only true lovers of old tomes receive special access.
As I maneuver myself through a tight yet massive collection of poetry, I hear her arguing. The door to the back room is, unusually, slightly agar. I can't help but to listen before knocking and it gives me great pause.
"It's not time, yet." Ameth hissed at the shadowed figure that stood at the edge of the room, concealed by the door.
"It must be now. He is becoming restless, Ameth. The time might have to be now. We do not always have the privilege of choice." A male voice says sternly from the shadows.
" But R-"
" Shh, Ameth. We are being watched." He cuts her off in a hushed tone. At that, I back away from the door. Only to bump into a tall man with unearthly violet eyes. "Why, hello." The owner of the voice drawls.
------
I awoke to the sound of a teapot screaming. The last thing I remember is seeing those eyes before blacking out. Those electric violet eyes. Were they real? Was it just a dream? Where am I?
I look around, my surroundings slowly coming into focus. Ameth is tending to a newly brewed pot of tea and that dazzling man from before is lounging on a love-seat by the hearth. I slowly begin to sit, feeling a bit dizzy and nauseous.
"Oh, look at who 'as finally re-joined the land of the living. Sorry to 'ave put ya under, love, but I believe, eavesdropping as ya were, ya deserved it." he smiled lazily at me as Ameth brought the tea trolley over. His accent was thick cockney but fit his wild gold hair and violet eyes so well that I could not make fun of him for it. His unearthly features took my breath away. How did my Ameth know such a man?
"Now, Ryennard." Ameth looked at him pointedly. "Tsk tsk tsk. I was expecting her today and should have known. Honestly, she's always had the curiosity of a cat. Should have been more careful. Plus, she is the one I have been writing you about for so long." She smiled as she handed me my scalding cup of tea. I put it down on the side table to cool. "Please excuse my brother. We may be blood but we have very little in common, to be sure."
What?! "This is the brother you've spoken so fondly of? I thought you were kidding when you talked of his metallic hair and jewel eyes. He sounded like a work of fiction, to be true!" I looked over at him wide eyed.
"No need to stare or look so surprised, love." He smiled as he took a sip of the tea his sister had handed him. But there was every reason to stare. His skin was bronze and he moved like a high-class englishman from an old jane austen film. He was dressed head to toe in an outfit that screamed SteamPunk, much like his sister. Although, in reality, they really were little alike.
Ameth, with her black and blond hair, silvery blue eyes and porcelain skin, almost normal in comparison to the fantasy-turned-reality that was her brother. She was a bit clumsy and shy, too, where her brother seemed graceful and coy. Both looked as though they had stepped out of Steam-Punk fiction. Both beautiful eccentric characters who seemed quite unreal but were as clear as day. Shaking the cobwebs from my brain, I can see the relation now.
"So, you're Ryen Bryer? A pleasure to meet you." I stand, holding out my hand for him to shake, attempting a proper introduction. He looked at my hand as though it were a curious alien entity that had obviously been misplaced.
"Ryen! You shake it, remember?" Ameth snapped at him. He shook his head seemingly troubled by this course of interaction. I remove my hand and take a weary sip of tea to ease the tension.
"Yeah..." He walked over to the tea trolley to pour himself some more tea. "Please excuse my lack of mundane manners, mon belle chatte. I 'aven't been in this dimension for what seems like a lifetime." He said as he gently sipped his tea.
"Ryen! You silly half-wit!" Ameth snapped.
Wait! There are other dimensions?