The Source: Observer Chronicles, Book 3

Chapter 5: The Journal

It had been almost two weeks of constant work on the farmhouse, trying to get it to its former self, even though it was still nowhere near finished.

After another long day working on the structure, they all retreated to their room, huffing, panting and barely lifting their feet off the floor as they walked.

Darryl opened the small cupboard in the room with the bunk beds to reveal their journal. He slammed it on a desk in the wine cellar, near the entrance doors, engulfed within an overpowering smell of wine. Looking at it on the table, he waited for the others to gather around before speaking.

Brenda and Eve stood in the background resting on one of the racks that held the bottles. The mother, tired from watching the teenagers work during the day, even though she would normally do more than that, there being little else she could do other than menial chores to keep things as best as she could and ready, regardless of its type, the so-called work that is so often ʻthankless and taken advantage ofʼ in life improves our quality of life more than most are aware of, or this is what she believed.

"Might as well see what we can pull from this," said Darryl, all the teenagersʼ gathered around closer as they heard these words. Darryl had strawberry blonde hair, rich and nourished, just cut from the looks of it and kept ever so tidy. He was not as broad as the other boys, not having to do hard labour if he didnʼt want to in his life before this, which was most days, making him quite angular and bony. His face had freckles around his cheeks running up to his nose, not too harsh, so soft on the face in fact that you would have to get close to even know they were there.

Drage, who stood next to the book, flicked open the pages until they had writing on them, the words appearing, fading in as if there was no writing in the book beforehand. He ran his finger along the first sentence and read it aloud. The title at the top of the page read, "ʻThe Secret of the Six.ʼ" All of them captivated as Drage was about to read on, but didn't.

The earth-wielder stopped. His mouth opened, shocked, trying to hold it in.

"What is it Drage?" asked Lauret with some concern, rubbing her bumpy spots on her right bicep beneath the t-shirt she wore. Drage pushed the book across the table, open, towards the teenagersʼ at the other end.

Lauret and Clarabelle both grabbed the journal at the same time because of their impatience, wanting to find out what was wrong. They tugged it, hoping the other would let go, but neither did.

Reetho slammed his hand on the book and then flung it into the centre. Lauret and Clarabelle stopped, the fire-wielder staring at them. The book, still open on the same pages.

"I'll read it," said Reetho as he grabbed it. Clearing his throat, he started, "it says that ʻThe Edeolon Warriors will lose themselves if they use and exceed a mass amount of energy over a short period of time. The consequence of this is dire. Use your source of magick wisely, or you will end up with a different person on the team.'" He looked up at the warriors to see their reaction, then carried on.

"What do you think they meant by that?" asked Lauret. Reetho read on, but not aloud at first. Another interrupted as he looked back up, someone else replying instead.

"I think it means the deities inside of us will take over, but only if we abuse their magick," replied Clarabelle. Reetho looked at the mind-wielder before speaking.

"How did you know that?"

"Because you said it," replied Clarabelle.

"No, I didn't. I was reading in my own head."

You didn't say that?" Reetho shook his head to confirm what he told her.

"Wait a minute. The being inside of me is the daughter of Xenne, goddess of knowledge, wisdom and the mind. I'm almost sure I heard Brenda say something when she didn't talk once too when the house was on fire. Do you think Iʼm reading minds?"

"How do you know that it's the daughter of Xenne?" asked Drage.

"It told me, I think. It's the daughter of Xenne and a god I had not heard of. It talks some rubbish as well, and sometimes it's hard getting the thing to shut up."

"Ha," laughed Lauret, "but yeah, that would actually make sense."

"It's possible you could read other people's minds. Sounds as if you have been. Thanks for the but-in," said Reetho back to Lauret.

"Anytime," replied Lauret.

"How is it all the females get the good abilities," said Drage. "I mean I can bring up a few roots from the ground, but where am I supposed to go from there?" The Edeolon Warriors shrugged as Brenda and Eve chuckled a little. Drage touched the wall which was mud clung together, flowers blossoming as his hand skimmed across. The contrast of the white petals and the dark mud mixed well as an unexpected decoration, of daisies.

"How did you do that?" asked Brenda as she stared at them, "they are so pretty."

"I don't know," said Drage, realising what she was getting at. He took his hand off the wall.

"Who needs television?" said Brenda to her daughter, "especially when you have this lot in a wine cellar. It's like a soap opera in front of our eyes, and with a few added special effects they don't include." The woman then shouted: "Are you lot human?"

"Yes and no," said Darryl, "we are humanoid and work pretty much as you, but with a few extra abilities and different knowledge. Weʼre from another world."

"Don't worry," said Lauret, "we are here to protect, not hurt."

"Aliens in my wine cellar?" replied Brenda, "this is turning into some unexpected TV." But she knew in her heart these were not the kind of souls that would destroy for the sake of it. The mother stayed calmer than she thought she would, and pondered on how it had changed everything.