This novel tells the story of a young archeologist, Keone Moronez, an unfortunate girl who always seems to be on the bad side of Lady Luck. Although that is just figuratively, right? A way to blame your bad luck on some ethereal being? Keone thought...
Waking up in her bed, Keone thought everything was a dream. Groaning from exhaustion, she rolled on her side then slowly got up before she felt a sharp pain stab her head. It felt like a jagged rock was being pushed deeper and deeper into her brain, almost piercing through. Keone slowly raised to her feet, stumbling a bit before catching herself on the nightstand and that's when she saw it. Sitting on top of a few messily placed papers was the diary, or journal, she stil wasn't sure what it was. The cover no longer looked like a piece of the galaxy, instead it changed to a simple blue with the gold clover in the center. All the memories of the previous day came rushing back, the map, the altar magically appearing, the book, and the altar almost killing her before disappearing.
"So it wasn't a dream..." Keone whishpered. Way to go for stating the obvious genius.
Keone shook off the daze that formed in her mind and set the book on the nightstand. She paced all around her room muttering incomprehensible words before sitting down, only to get up and do it again. Getting dizzy from all the pacing, she steadied her breathing and decided to pay a visit to Victor, her only friend, so she doesn't lose her mind trying to make sense of what happened.
She took her time in the shower enjoying the hot, almost scalding water, cascading down her down and the scent of her favorite lavendar shampoo and conditioner she used in her hair. After making sure her hair was thoroughly cleaned, she lathered her loofah with her bodywash, also lavender scented, and washed herself before hopping out the shower. She dried her hair and got dressed in beige cargo pants, a white t-shirt and white sneakers. She left her hair as it was, not bothering to comb it.
Keone was teeming wiht excitement and after eating a quick breakfast of oatmeal and a fruit bowl washed down with a tall glass of water, she rushed out the door. Ignoring the elevator, Keone raced down the steps and neared the front door before realizing she left the book, the key to her apartment, and the key for her motorcycle inside.
"And here I thought after yesterday you'd give me a break," she cursed the universe, sighing heavily before digging through her bag for the spare key.
Surprise, surprse, it wasn't there. Keone groaned loudly then turned to trudge to her landlady's apartment which was thankfully on the ground floor. She knocked and heard her landlady yell that she'll be there in a minute so she waited. A few seconds passed before the door creaked open and a plump figure popped their head out the door.
"Good morning Keone." Ms. Sylvia said in her usual melodic voice, "Locked yourself out again?" She mused.
Keone blushed from embarrassment before replying,
"You know I never remember to take up the keys Ms. Sylvia," she murmured, "And I somehow keep losing the spare one."
After going to get yet another spare key, Ms. Sylvia returned and handed them to her with a smile.
"Not to be nosy deary, but where have you been the past three days?" She asked concerned.
Three days? THREE DAYS?!
It's already been three days?
"I-I was at a f-friend's house "
Keone stammered out a reply, still in shock at the realization before rushing to get the book and keys from her apartment. She sped down the four flight of stairs once more and mounted her Yamaha R6. It was black with gold decals on both sides and it's been 2 years since she bought with money saved up from working odd jobs. It roared to life and she took off in the direction of Vincent's house.
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Pulling up to the house, Keone revved the engine to let him know she was there. Vincent's house was located on the outskirts of Holland, the town they lived in. It was a small one story house with a cream exterior, a small porch, red roof and a small garden in the front. She stood in front of the red oak door realizing she hasn't been here in weeks.
"Are you going to come in or stand there daydreaming?" a gruff voice called from inside.
Releasing a breath she didn't know she was holding, Keone turned the knob and stepped inside. After taking her coat off, she walked through the living room and to the kitchen where she knew Vincent would be.
"Hey pumpkin," he beamed, "Haven't seen you in weeks."
"I'm sorry Vince, I should've visited more bu-"
He held his hand up cutting her off.
"It's fine Keone, there's no need to apologize." he stated softly.
"But still..." Keone trailed off when Vincent shot her a look.
Keone sighed before sagging into one of the stools at the breakfast bar. She got lost in her thoughts then remembered why she came here in the first place. Thinking about it, Keone realized she'd been distancing herself from Vincent, unintentionally of course, but she still felt terrible. She sighed once more then took the book out of her bag and turned to him.
Keone pointedly cleared her throat to get his attention, ready to burst from the returning excitement.
"So...remember that expedition I told you I was going on?" She inquired.
"The one to the Amazon?" He recalled, "Yeah, what about it?"
Keone took a deep breath before opening her mouth,
"I thought the map I got from that crazy old lady was fake because when I got there, I didn't see any mysterious altar but one magically appeared out of thin air. THIN AIR, Vince! So I went in there but I didn't see anything until I found a lever at the back behind one of the columns so I pulled it then there was a rumbling sound and a bright light before I blacked out. When I woke up I saw a pedestal with a book in the center that, again MAGICALLY APPEARED, so I tried to take a picture but it wouldn't show up on the camera. I went up and touched it then all of a sudden, I grabbed it."
She paused, gasping for air before continuing.
"The altar started falling apart so I rushed out with the book then the it disappeared and here we are."
Keone finished and looked to Vincent, waiting for his response. He was rigid, hands frozen on the armrests of his wheelchair. Realizing he was gonna need a minute to process the information dump, she sat back in the stool and waited.
