The ferry wasn't that full and there were only three other walk-on passengers like myself.
I stood in line for the cafeteria, ordered eggs and a black coffee, and gave the cashier one of my last twenty-dollar bills.
I got my change, took my tray to a table and settled in for the first leg of my journey.
Wildwood wasn't far from Vancouver, but it took a couple ferries to get there. It was part of the mainland, but seemingly undesirable to those not possessing some sort of gift to see its true value. Most people kept going up the coast to the larger city, where they could get their minivans filled at Costco and see a movie on a big screen in one of the two shopping malls. Wildwood didn't have a lot of big chain stores, but what it lacked in commercial appeal, it made up for in charm. And I mean literal charms at times, depending on where you looked and what you were looking for.
Growing up there had been like growing up anywhere else, from what I could tell. I'd gone to elementary school on Empire south and then had taken the ferry across to the bus stop every morning to attend Birkside Secondary once I hit the eighth grade.
It had been a childhood filled with wild wonder, and my teen years had been filled with punk rebellion and beach parties like no other. I still had many friends in Wildwood, at least I thought I did. I hadn't kept in touch with many of them, and I had basically zero online presence.
I preferred to stay under the radar and far from any prying eyes or the seeking queries of those who still sought me after all these years. The ones who would want to come back and fulfill my family's sacred vow, to protect Empire magic after the death of my mother.
I shivered as I ate my scrambled eggs, so I held the coffee cup in my hand and inhaled its scent, allowing the thick, earthy steam to warm me and satisfy my craving for the spark of energy contained within.
"You cold or something?" some guy asked from beside me. I glanced over and it was an older guy, maybe close to my dad's age, with a muscular build, a beard and a friendly face.
"No, just tired," I replied.
That seemed to open the door to him initiating conversation, so he dove in. He extended his hand and said, "My name's Mike. Where ya headed?"
I relaxed and gave him an innocuous once over. I didn't pick up any creepy energy from Mike, but as a single woman traveling alone I'd always learned to worry about my safety. I shook his hand and said, "My name is Lizzie and I'm headed for Wildwood."
"That's where I'm going," he said. "I run supplies regularly from Vancouver to there and back again. I like spending time in Wildwood, though. I might buy a cabin one of these days, the more I stay there the more I like it."
Mike had the gift. He probably didn't know it, but if he stayed in Wildwood, he would. I sensed his power rippling just under the surface and I caught flashes of it here and there, like the belly of a fish as it spun to where the water met the sky.
"You feel like giving me a lift?" I asked. "I don't have any way to get there."
"Sure, I could do that. But how do you know I'm not just some weird old man who wants to have his way with you?" he asked. "You should be more careful about that, Lizzie."
"I just know," I replied, and that seemed to be enough for him. He gave me zero weirdo vibes and I trusted my gut.
Mike and I got to talking and soon the first ferry ride was over and I followed him to his delivery truck to make it to the next ferry. We made small talk and Mike told me about his ex-wife and kids who never talked to him, the usual sad story of a middle aged guy.
The next ferry one was almost empty, and people always wondered why they maintained the ferry service to Wildwood several times a day. Mom had once said it was because there was a spell when Wildwood was formed, over a hundred years ago. It was to assist the safe and direct travel from anywhere to the town of Wildwood for all who were meant to find it.
And that had always been the way ever since. Once you decided to go to Wildwood, you found a way to get there. Whether by land, sea or air, Wildwood provided safe passage.
Mike turned out to be an amusing road trip companion. He was clever and knew a lot about history and literature. The more we talked, the better we got along.
"The perks of being in my truck a lot," he told me. "I listen to a lot of books on tape."
When the second ferry shuddered and slowed, indicating it reached the dock, he asked me if I needed a ride anywhere in town.
"I'll be good from here. But I hope to cross paths with you again, Mike. Thanks for not being a pervert and forcing me to kick your ass before noon," I replied.
He laughed and we agreed to have lunch if we ever saw each other again. I hoped he'd find a cabin in Wildwood, because as he walked away, I couldn't help but notice a bright patch of yellow energy swirling up and down his forearms. I didn't know what his gift might be, but I knew he had one.
I hauled my duffle bag over my shoulder and hiked up the steep hill towards Old Town Cafe, one of the oldest and most reliable spots in Wildwood. It was a quaint little diner owned by a seemingly ageless woman, Miss Oru, who made the best big, soft ginger cookies of all time.
When I got there, I hesitated before going in, nervous about running into people I'd once ran from. But I had nowhere to go in the immediate future, not until Temple Teas opened at two in the afternoon. I couldn't make it across to Empire without a good dose of tea, having been gone for so long. The door chime tinkled as I opened it and everybody inside the diner stopped talking and turned to look.
Miss Oru stood at the cash register with a smile on her face and a menu in her hand. "Kairos Empire, we've been expecting you," she said with a warm smile. She hadn't aged a day since I'd left. Not even a minute. She was still a tall, statuesque woman with jet black hair, deep brown eyes and rich brown skin. She was stunning, like if a fashion model had stepped off the pages of a magazine and graced us with her presence.
I opened my mouth to ask how they'd all known, but looking at the various residents of Wildwood and their many differing gifts, I knew the answer. I'd forgotten about it since being gone, but people like Miss Oru were commonplace in Wildwood, people who always had that uncanny ability to know what would happen even before it happened.
"Hello there," I said, lifting my hand in greeting. "Glad to be back."
I received a few greetings, a hello and welcome back here and there, but within a minute I was already old news. Everybody went back to eating their meals and spreading the news of the day from one set of ears to the next.
I settled into a booth along the edge by the windows, scanned the menu and allowed myself to relax in a place that already felt like home. I wasn't on Empire yet, but I was getting close. It wasn't until that moment that I realized how hard it had been to keep away all these years.
And how easy it was to give in and go back.
YOU ARE READING
Empire Island, Exile the First
FantasyKairos is the name, just your average magically gifted Guardian running from her problems... Years ago I walked away from my home, Empire Island, and turned my back on my sacred vow to protect its magic. I thought I could enjoy my freedom, but my pa...