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Page 8


  A gust of wind blew his gray bangs into his eyes, blocking his view. Brushing them back, he gathered enough nerve to head across the street. Pausing, he looked down at the red letters with curiosity.

  Who is this person? How did they know I was looking for the book? That is what this is all about right? I only barely started my own efforts and here is a sign shouting at me to look here.

  Taking in a deep breath, he gathered the courage to enter the mysterious bookshop. A bell rang to announce his entry into the stale smelling room. The small store was occupied with dusty books, the atmosphere dark and heavy. It simply had one overcrowded aisle way bordered by overloaded bookshelves. A desk by the entrance was the only sign of a spot to make a purchase. There were no signs of anyone being there. Leaning against the desk, he watched the store’s door, waiting for someone to show up.

  Perhaps they stepped out to go get some lunch? I mean, who would dare to rob this place? Everyone thinks the joint is closed, and last I checked, no one steals books.

  “There you are!” The voice shouted from behind him, causing him to jerk away from what he assumed was a vacant desk. “You are late!”

  “What the!” Staring wide-eyed, a dark haired girl grinned wildly at him. She crawled up from the ground and stood behind the desk. Cobwebs and dust laid against her black shirt, as if she had been one of the books. “Where did you come from? Who or what are you?”

  “Been waiting for you!” She glared at him through her glasses and held a dusty book in her arms. Nothing he had asked seemed to matter to her as her unnatural moment of glee continued. “You’re running late, mister-mister.”

  “Waiting? Right, and you are?” He swallowed the last of his nerves. Maybe I was wrong to come here. This poor lady has lost her mind, she’s clearly in need of medication. It all makes sense why no one dares to look at the place, let alone some inside here. “What’s your name? And why have you been waiting on me? Who do you think I am?”

  “Tiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnaaaaaaaaaa.” Squeezing the book in her arms, she twisted side-to-side in bliss. “My name’s Tina. You’re so silly, how could you forget my name, hahahaha.”

  “Tina.” He blinked. “Well, I saw the sign out front.” Do I really want to ask her about this? I mean, would I even get a legitimate answer from an insane person? She thinks we’ve met before.

  “It was for you. I knew you’d come if I made you a pretty sign. You like it?” Hotan jerked as she slams the book onto the desk. Clouds of dust rolled across the desk before settling as she spoke, “Here’s my Baby. Isn’t it beautamis? You have to be nice to her. I like you. You’re different. He said you would be different! The same, but not the same, yes, yes, yes. He never lies about these things!”

  “Huh?” He slowly approached the counter refusing to take his eyes off her Cheshire cat grin. “Man. You’re a little obsessed with this book, and a little, crazy too. So someone told you I was coming for this?”

  She’s acting like she knew I was coming. Not only that, she was told I was coming. Part of me wants to ask her a billion questions, but it’s obvious I wouldn’t get a straight answer, if any at all, from her.

  “Maybe, maybe not.” Her face went serious as she slid the book over to him. “You hurt her, you die. Take as long as you need with this, but she must come back. Must, must-must!”

  “Ok.” Reading the title of the book, he paled. The worn-out embossing was still visible enough to read Book of Ancients. “How did you know I was looking for this book? This is the ‘Book of Ancients’. Who told you I needed this book? Who told you?”

  Is there someone else watching me? This can’t be coincidental. This all happened within twelve hours, maybe I can track down who is pulling the strings!

  “Because I’m one of you.” She whispered, leaning closer as if telling a grand secret. “I’m the crazy one! Just be sure to bring her back. She’s my book, he said I could be its new owner as long as I let the new him, the different him, read it. When you bring her back, bring me chocolate. You have to bring me chocolate! I want chocolate for being a good girl! Bring her back with my chocolate!”

  “The new one? Chocolate?” He lifted an eyebrow.

  I’m not going to get any answers from her, but clearly someone knew that a new immortal would be looking for this. Did the old Hotan really plan this? Is it possible he gave her the book before he? Forget it. I’ll need to look at the book to see if I can find some answers.

  Curious, he continued the conversation. “Why chocolate, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  “Yes!” She slammed her hands on the desk sending more clouds of dust into the dry air. “And! If you don’t return it. I will come for it. And I want my chocolate! Or I will follow you until you give it to me!”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll bring your book back and bring you some chocolate.” He took the book, wiping the dust off the red cover. There’s no doubt. This is the exact same book from my dream. What secrets are you not sharing, Hotan? “See you later, Tina. Thank you for helping me find this.”

  “Have a very gloomy day!” She waved at him as he left out the door. “Aww, him and the different one are gone now.”

  Hotan crossed the street, stopping at his bike for a book bag in the compartment under the seat. He slid the book into the empty book bag, slinging it over his left shoulder. Returning inside the restaurant, he sighed in relief. Kyle’s mouth was full, but he shot Hotan a questioning face. He grinned in response as a sign that he got what he wanted. Glancing over at the bookstore, he watched Tina kick her sign around the sidewalk before ripping it apart. She was a complete mental case as she paused to bark at an old woman who made the mistake to stop and stare. Returning to her store, the sign pieces promptly fluttered away on the wind, the letter on it no longer red to his eyes.

  “Why are you so happy all of a sudden?” Jessica came back to the table pouring him more coffee in a fresh cup. “Did we miss something?”

  “I found it. It was in that little book store.” He took a sip enjoying the steamy cup of coffee. “I can’t believe it was so close after all.”

  “No way!” Kyle swallowing the last of his food. “You mean that insane chick had it? That place gives me the creeps. The whole town talks about how there’s a mad woman who runs the store!”

  “Yea, well I’ve never heard anything about the place, but she had it.” He cracked his neck, relieving it of the tension it had endured. “She’s crazy. No doubt about that.”

  “Well, glad you found it.” Jessica smiled, grabbing Kyle’s empty plate. “So what’s the book about?”

  “I don’t know yet, but someone suggested it for a research project I have. Well, time to start reading and seeing if it was really worth all the trouble.” Hotan took one last sip of his coffee before laying enough cash for both meal and tip on the table. “I want to see what kind of information this book has and if it can help me out.”

  “Bye Babe!” Jessica blew Kyle a kiss as they headed for the door. “Have a good day!”

  “Bye Je-” Kyle slammed into the door that had closed behind Hotan. “Ouch!”

  “Oh hell no!” Jessica busted out laughing as he fumbled with the door, managing not to further harm himself. “So freaking clumsy.”

  Getting back onto the bike, they headed for the main highway. Pulling away from the red light, Hotan noticed a slight red image reflecting in one of his mirrors. Looking back, he could see Hisota’s black Yamaha with red flames trying to catch up to them.

  Not sure why he would be giving me colors, but then again, I don’t need his crap right now. I have the book, I don’t want to waste time tending to Hisota’s tantrums. I’m going to have to try and lose him in this traffic. I hate doing this, it’s just asking for an accident to happen, but…

  “Hang on tight, Kyle. I’m going to lose Hisota.” Kyle tightened his hold.

  Leaning into the bike, Hotan started accelerating through the traffic. He swerved passed the vehicles as cautiously as possible, gaining distance betwe
en them and Hisota. The cars felt as if they were sitting still as the wind roared around them. Making it through a yellow light, they had managed to leave Hisota behind. The stopping vehicles had blocked Hisota in, making his attempts to follow them further futile. Hotan redirected their route and headed for Kyle’s house.

  I am positive he’ll head straight to my apartment after seeing me with Kyle. It was pure luck I could see the red and orange of the flames on his bike. Otherwise, my colorblindness would have hindered my ability to pick him out. I suppose my mind agrees with my feelings of keeping any additional stress at arm’s length for the time being.

  “Thought we were headed to your place?” Kyle unlocked his door, the house empty while his parents were out doing their normal routine. “What happened? Change of plans?”

  “Change of plans. Hisota knows where I live, but not where you live. In fact, he’s always refused coming to your place for some reason.” He followed him to the back of the hallway. “I’m not in the mood to deal with him today. This is more important to me then catering to one of his rants, again.”

  I need to know what this book is going to tell me. What sort of information does this thing have? Why was is so important I use it?

  Closing the door behind him, a playboy smiled at Hotan from her poster. He looked at it for a moment, shrugged, and turned back to the task of seeing what mysteries the ‘Book of Ancients’ held. The bedroom consisted of a chaotic closet, a messy twin sized bed, and a desk with a lamp. Sitting at the desk, he pulled out the book.

  Kyle, who flopped across his bed, sat up and watched as Hotan thumbed through the aged pages. They were yellow, stiff, and fragile. Being delicate with the age worn paper, Hotan came to the first chapter. The entire book was hand-written and appeared to be a personal journal. Kyle leaned over Hotan’s shoulders a moment as he started to read.

  Book of Ancients: The Beginning

  In the beginning, we were nothing more than a tribe. We were spirited people fighting to survive. History has rubbed out our existence, but there were truly thirteen tribes of Israel. A lot of us died, more were enslaved, but we survivors were the few who did not fall under these fates. Labeled as the Levites, Sons of Levi, we were known for our abilities in diplomacy and priests. The land we called home had been given to us in good faith, despite beliefs we were not landowners. It would be years later when fear and greed would destroy this act of kindness. A time in history marked with my people being enslaved to the tabernacle, their freedoms forgotten.

  At the time of this enslavement, there were two brothers in charge of the village. It had been decided, following the chief’s death, that the younger brother would be head of the tribe while his older brother given the responsibility of being his advisor. It was an unorthodox move and the rate of its success scared the other tribes. Whispers of conspiracy claimed they would soon fall under the control of our small tribe spread like a plague of locust. Fear was devouring hearts as it spread. It wasn’t long before communications went silent. Our brothers and sisters in the nearby territories had stopped sending any messages.

  The elders within our tribe were arguing over if any action should be taken to check on the status of our silenced priests and diplomats in neighboring lands. In the end, no action would be allowed. The brothers pleaded that someone attempt contact but none would disobey the elders. This was when the system, the trust in our leadership, failed. Some of the elders had been paid off, promised land for sabotaging any plans of defense. If they would mislead the brothers in trusting the silence, riches would be thrown to them. These elders were among the first targets of the slaughter that was inching ever closer to our home. Shadows grew closer, and we had failed to push the issue further despite the nightmares, the sensations that wrenched our guts every night.

  I believe these events were happening at the timeframe of 928 BCE, according to modern history books. Upon a spring festival, the other tribes rushed in, sinking their fangs deep into the village. People, children even, were slaughtered. Any signs of refusal to comply with demands led to losing one’s life. The general, an exiled Levite from our ranks, made a personal effort to locate the brothers. His only desire was to take vengeance for the excommunication given to him by their father. With what little time they had, Hotan and Talib gathered who they could to flee the land they once called home. Screams of their loved ones echoed behind them, beckoning that they come to their rescue. Haunting images of an elder groveling at the feet of the general. Bleeding, dying, he kept screaming, “Where’s my land! I kept my promise! Where’s my gold! I did what was asked of me! I earned my place!”

  When did the Devil snake his way into the hearts of the people? Why did I not see it?

  The journey to freedom had its own costs and horrors. Crossing the dry lands led to death by thirst, exhaustion, and even at one point, a pack of starving lions stalked us, picking off any who fell too far behind. The sea was not a comforting sight as the salty air stung at our blistered skin. The water only brought more fear and death. Our lives were cursed, the land around us a plague, killing us in its slow and painful method. We had stalled here for some time, trying to decide what would salvage what was left of our existence. Our choices became death by drowning or eaten alive by the four-legged vultures that circled within view. We had started with roughly one hundred of us, but less than half continued the struggle to live. Still catching our breaths, we were forced to cross the sea when the army appeared on the horizon. The exiled Levite was fueled by the devil himself to have chased us over such treacherous land. Reluctantly, we took to the sea.

  The sun was blistering on the water more so than it had been on land. A breeze added to the torment as salt stung at our wounds and cracked skin. We all stared at one another, watching as some drifted off to an eternal sleep, freeing themselves from the torture we found ourselves trapped in. Thoughts of purgatory rattled our minds, one man leaping into the water, willingly drowning himself to escape his rotting flesh. Storm clouds had rolled over us so quickly that it had felt like a dream. Lightning boiled the water where it struck around us and the waves grew to the size of mountains. This was Purgatory. We were neither dead or living.

  This was the last test given to us. This horrendous act of nature would separate who was worthy and who would not survive the night. Many of us lost what we had left when we washed to shore. The pain that weighed on our hearts those first days on the island will forever stain our souls. Only twenty of us had made it.

  Twenty.

  I would not even consider it surviving after so much blood, sweat, and tears. This was the new beginning with the past cut savagely into our minds. Faces of loved ones still haunt our dreams. Gruesome last moments and memories of one another’s suffering was the last stride of who we were as a tribe. Why were we punished so? To what purpose to leave so few alive? Why was God angry with us? Or was this a sign of his mercy? So many questions flooded my heart. A heart left broken from losing my wife, carrying our child, in the storm that left only me alive. I will never be able to know the blessing of holding my own child in my hands.

  The island was a paradise. We referred to it as Eden, since it was so much like the stories read or told to us as children. Food and shelter were easily acquired, but the guilt of being the only survivors could be seen on every face. Shoulders heavy, we focused on mending and strengthening what we had been left with. It was slow at first, we didn’t notice that we were changing, becoming immortal. Our dedication to survival had distracted us from the passing of time, and soon we were discovering new abilities. Was this a reward for making it so far? As I write this retelling, I can assure you, it was a curse in the end. A continuation of Purgatory that would not allow us to be claimed by Death. I would have gladly fallen into hell than accept what was given to me.

  Speaking without words was the first phenomenon. It was confusing as to how long we had been doing it without acknowledging the process. The natural sensation of using it was frightening, but we soon realized the im
portance in being able to contact each other so easily despite the distance apart. Cassandra was the first to discover the other special ability she had been given. She had been frustrated with her crops, attempts to domesticate the plants here had proven difficult. In anger, she struck the ground, causing seedlings to become full-grown, fruiting plants. We all gathered to watch her first few failed attempts to recreate this miraculous moment. Insisting that she had done it, she described the power she had felt flowing through her. She failed to perform this act a second time. Gathering her focus, she replayed the emotions and thoughts in her heart and struck the ground. Markings painted her skin and she had a miraculous glow, the glow of saints about her. After that, we became more cautious, more aware of what we were doing and how nature itself reacted to us.

  We had become embodiments of nature and humanity. There were ten elements of Nature and ten elements of Humanity. Nature consisted of the Mind, Body, and Spirit as its strongest point but Rebirth was the all-encompassing factor. This also included six elements: fire, earth, wind, light, water, and metal. The elements of humanity involved factors that could go as far as persuading one’s heart if forced. These were labelled as fear, anger, lust, judgment, insanity, and clarity. Lastly, the remaining three elements were related to the body: sight, hearing, and touch. These elements could be manipulated to one extreme or the other. Touch could numb you or make the slightest breeze feel excruciatingly painful to grace your skin. Earth could change soil, make plants grow or even decay. Rebirth could rewind or speed up a life span as it sees fit, or even go as far as reincarnation.