The Second Plane (#Wattys2016)

4.

The oak rimmed clock that hung on the wall ticked with each passing second.  The plush fabric of the green couch felt soft against Savannah's skin.  Scented candles kept the room smelling like cinnamon. 

Savannah watched as Father Crossheart paced back and forth the parsonage living room.  Jericho leaned against the door frame, blocking her escape.  A groan escaped from the middle aged man.  He stopped, running a hand through his hair with a puff.  Pursing his lips, he looked at Savannah.

"Has anything strange happened since you left school?  Have you met anyone...odd?"

Savannah bit the inside of her lip, shifting her legs.  Avoiding eye contact, she opted to observe the white carpeting.  Father Crossheart let out a frustrated moan, pulling at his hair.  Savannah's gaze flickered upward for a moment.

"If you keep doing that, you're going to go bald." she murmured.

"That is not the issue right now, right lady." Father Crossheart exclaimed, pointing at the girl.  She clenched her fists.  Looking away, she scowled.  Out of everything... Savannah stood up.

"You're right!" she growled.  "The issue is how you've been lying to me my entire life."

Father Crossheart's eyes grew wide before hardening. "Don't you take that tone with me.  Remember your commandments."

"You aren't even my real dad." Savannah spat, storming past the grey haired priest.  Jericho raised a brow as she approached the door frame.  She glared at him, swatting his hand as he reached out to her.  He was in on the lie too.  Turning to go to her room, she heard the last wisps of conversation.

"I'm trying Jericho, but it's hard."

"I know, sir."

"Maybe I should go talk to her, explain."

There was a hesitation.  "Perhaps I should, Father Crossheart, she might not listen to you right now."

A sigh.  "You're right.  I'll call the school about getting her glasses."  Father Crossheart's footsteps drew closer.  Savannah slipped into her room, flicking on the light and gently closing the door.  She listened as he passed, going through the dining room to the kitchen.  Exhausted, she stumbled over to her twin sized bed in the corner of the small rectangular room and collapsed on the blue sheets.  The room consisted of a single window and light grey walls.  The carpeting was the same as the living room's.  In one corner was her bed and its turquoise coverings along with a raggedy pink rabbit.  It was one of the few things she had left from her birth parents.  In the other corner was a small desk littered with school papers and spare notebooks.  A full body mirror hung on the adjacent wall.  Opposite to that was the closet door and a large blue bean bag.

Savannah curled up on the bed.  Burying her head into the stuffed animal's stomach, she muffled a scream.  Everything was a lie.  They lied to her.  Not only her father but Jericho too.  Why?

There was a soft rap on the door.

Still buried in her bunny, she shouted.  "Go away."

"Savannah," It was Jericho. He turned the knob, cracking open the door.  Slipping in, he let it click shut.  Crossing the length of the room, he sat down on the bed next to Savannah. 

Savannah refused to look at him, but she didn't move.  Jericho didn't push her.  Instead they sat in silence, staring at the wall.  Jericho played absently with a piece of fuzz on her sheets.

Unable to stand the silence anymore, Savannah spoke up, "Why?"

"It's a long story." Jericho sighed.  Savannah puffed out her lower lip, looking up at him.  Glancing over, he smiled a little. "That's not fair.  You know I can't say no to that face."

"I think I deserve to know."

"I don't have all the answers, but I'll tell you what I can." Jericho said, pausing.  Savannah nodded for him to continue. "It was the turn of the roman empire, stories of demons and spirits were commonplace.  People were complaining to the Church, so they formed a group.  An elite group of exorcists that were trained to help people ward off the evil creatures.  They found a few weaknesses and ways of natural protection.  But, it was slow going.  They could only do so much."

"Why?" Savannah jumped on as Jericho took a breath.

"Most people can't see or touch these creatures.  There are a few who are sensitive to them. People like psychics and aura-readers, but even then the demon had to be powerful.  That is, until he came."

"Who is he?"

"Historically, it's unclear." Jericho stated, "The only thing recorded about him is that his eyes radiated an ethereal blue.  The Azure Priest. They called him a Divine Soul. He didn't just exorcise the creatures, he obliterated them.  He saved lives."

Savannah sat up, resting against the backboard. "What's that have to do with me?"

"Divine Souls are destined to one day destroy the Second Plane and save humanity.  Each does its part.  You are one such soul."

"If I have such a big destiny, why hide it from me?  Why not train me as an exorcist from the beginning?" Savannah questioned.  Jericho gazed up at the ceiling, pausing to think.

"How much do you know about your birth parents?"

Savannah shrugged, then crinkled her nose. "Just what dad told me, so probably nothing."

"Yeah." Jericho snorted, shooting her an apologetic smile. "I guess I only know whispers and snippets that my folks had let slip.  All I really know is that Father Crossheart was on a job with my parents.  There was no priest on duty, so he went in.  He found you in the arms of a demon, but before he could exorcise it, the creature vanished.  You were the only survivor that night.  Father Crossheart wanted to protect you."

"Protect me?" Savannah snapped.  From outside the room, the sound of the front door being slammed shut could be heard.  Followed by the sound of shuffling feet.  Both Savannah and Jericho stopped to listen.  There was a knock on the door.  Savannah hugged her rabbit closer, unsure of what to say.  Remaining silent, Jericho stood and went to the door.  He opened it.  Standing there was Father Crossheart.  Somewhere along his walk, he undid his white collar. With his black shirt unbuttoned, his red t-shirt peeked out..  He looked to Jericho, face worn down, before glancing to Savannah.  Shuffling passed the boy, he approached Savannah.  He kneeled beside the bed, holding out her glasses.  He had gotten them from the school.  Avoiding her gaze, he cleared his throat.

"I know this is confusing, but please, just wear the glasses.  They protect you from that world.  I don't want you living the dangerous life of an exorcist, not yet.  If you can't see that world, those creatures will let you be."

Savannah picked up the frames from his hands. "Thank you." she whispered.  She unfolded the sides, lifting them to her face.  Father Crossheart got to his feet.  Pausing, Savannah recalled Delocray's expression.  The way he tilted his head and smiled.  His eyes crinkled at the corners and small fangs poked out of the corner of his grin.  Closing her eyes, Savannah took a deep breath. "Are they really that bad?"

Father Crossheart froze.  Savannah watched as Jericho curled his fists, clenching his jaw.  His knuckles turned white.  He turned away from them, stepping through the door.

"Yes, yes they are." he seethed before leaving the room.  Father Crossheart shook his head.

"As I said, the life of an exorcist is dangerous.  Jericho's parents knew that." he said solemnly.  "I'll make sure he's got everything from the sanctuary."

Savannah stared at the glasses, then slipped them on.