Life - Life & Death Book 1

Chapter 8 - Part 2 - Zivena

    An hour later I meet Mom near the basement door that leads to the gym. I've spent a lot of time here over the years. Mom always told me the faster you were before your transition, the faster you'd be after. I took her word for it.
     When we get downstairs, Mom takes me straight to the rack of weights. "Do you remember what three pounds felt like?" I nod slowly and she throws the three-pound weight at me. I brace for the load but when I catch it, the weight feels as light as air.
    "The best way of getting used to the extra strength is moving through these weights and adjusting your mind accordingly. You remembered how three pounds used to feel and now you've encountered what it is like now that you're stronger." Mom takes it back and handles me the twelve pound one. "Pick up each weight and let your body get used to it." I do a few rounds.
    When I'm finished Mom gestures me to the bookcases that line one of the walls.
    "We need to make sure you've read the required books before you start the last of your training," Mom says and starts to read out titles.
    For twelve years I've trained for two hours every morning and night and studied in between that and school. Mom and Dad would push me to improve in all aspects, constantly surprising me with pop quizzes at the dinner table or attacking me while watching TV. It made for an interesting childhood when we would talk about the best way to kill a vile demon over pancakes and waffles.
    "Did you finish A Vicious History of Vampires?"
    I nod.
    "And The Downfall of the First Clan?"
    I nod again. And so it goes. Mom points out every book that is required for all young Guardians to read. My eyes trail over the spines of the books. It's funny, when Dad first showed me these bookcases I was expecting leather bound tomes with fancy script. Instead the shelves are crammed with mass produced paperbacks and hardcovers and looking like they should be sold in a bookshop, not hidden in a basement.
    Of course, it doesn't take long for my eyes to drift to the glass case build into the wall. Inside lay the books I expected to see that first time coming down here. The books I was never allowed to read. That are locked away.
    "You'll be able to read those once you finish your training," Mom comes to stand next to me. I can't seem to find anything to say to her. How can I act normal if my friend is missing? How can I talk to my mom when she's not letting me go hunt for him along with everyone else?
    "Zivena, please look at me." I turn and look into her dark green eyes that are filled with worry and concern. "There is far more to our world that you haven't been taught yet, including what are in these books," she gestures to the ones locked away. "When you reach the Hub someone will sit down with you and explain everything and then you will understand why we can't delay sending you to train. I know this is hard to grasp considering the limited information you know at this moment but please believe me when I say that I don't want to hurt you. I don't want to hold you back from what you want to do."
    It's hard to stay angry with someone when you can sense every emotion in their body. I know what she's saying is genuine. Her and Dad have trust me to make my own decisions for years and have always been there if I needed advice. The reason for not letting me stay to hunt for Owen must be worth it.
    I take a deep breath and let it out in a rush.
    "So I have to wait till I'm in West Virginia to find out?"
    Mom visibly softens with relief and walks forward to wrap me in her arms. "We'll have a family meeting tonight. There are a few things we need to tell you before you leave that way you'll have time to adjust.
    "Now, its time to train." Mom lets go of me and moves to the mats in the middle of the room. "You'll trip and stumble for the first few rounds but still give it your best shot."
    I don't wait. I fly at Mom, my legs propelling me forward faster then I expect and I run headlong into the wall.
    "Agh," I groan and roll to my feet. Mom looks as if she's trying to hold in a laugh.
    "That could have been better," Mom chuckles. She gestures me forward.
    I run at her again but this time I meet her head on. I throw everything I have at her but it's as if my brain has forgotten all my training. I keep missing openings. Sometimes I'm off by a foot. Either she's upped her game to match me or I'm just a terrible fighter. Probably the latter.
    "Focus, Zivena. Stop trying to go so fast. Slow down and concentrate on me. The rest will be muscle memory and once that's clicked then you can increase your speed."
    It takes over an hour before I'm in a good rhythm but I definitely don't have the skills to take Mom down. Not when she has over sixty years experience.
    Sweat drenched and panting, I make my way up to the bathroom for another shower. I pass by Dad's study and notice him reading a book over coffee.
    "How did you go?" Dad asks without looking up from the page. I lean against the doorway.
    "It was interesting. It look me forever to adjust though. I didn't realize how much of a difference the transformation was going to make. Even after listening to you guys and watching you all do incredible things I don't think I really understood it."
    Dad nods and puts his book down. "It's the same for all of us just after the transformation so you're not alone."
    "Has there been any more news on Owen?"
    "Unfortunately no. Ahren and Ulfric rejoined the search just after breakfast so hopefully they'll have some information once they get home." Dad gives me a small smile. "You should practice picking things up and using them so you don't go breaking anything in front of Imogen. She's going to be here soon."
    "Thanks Dad." I leave the room and head towards the bathroom. It hasn't escaped my notice that since this morning, no one has said that 'it's going to be okay' or 'we will find Owen, he'll be fine'. Is it because they don't want to give me false hope? Or do they already suspect that something's wrong?

✲✲✲✲✲

    Imogen bursts through the front door and flies straight at me with a giant hug. I try my hardest to hug her lightly. Her presence distracts me and I feel my body relax.
    "We'll find him."
    "Are you sure?" Imogen whispers.
    I hesitate, realizing my mistake. "I hope so."
    She buries her face in my shoulder and starts to cry. Something cracks in my chest at the sound.
    "It's going to be okay, Immy," I say.
    Imogen nods then steps away, whipping her face. She gives me a sad smile before handing me a small box.
    "You know I told you not to–"
    "I don't care. You gave me a present when it was my eighteenth. Plus Grandpa chipped in for some of the materials."
    "Aw, thanks." I rip off the purple wrapping paper, revealing a black velvet box. Inside is one of Imogen's own creations; a brilliant silver chain that holds an oval purple crystal the size of a finger nail. The silver chain is long enough that I slip it over my head and whenever the stone catches the light, it glimmers different shades of purple.
    In the past year or so Imogen has become obsessed with making her own jewelry. She even started selling it through local stores and online. It's the first time that she's made something for me though.
    "I know you don't like wearing jewelry but when I saw the crystal I immediately thought of you."
    "I love it," I smile.
    We look at each other and I know we're thinking the same thing.
Owen.
    "Has there been any news?" Imogen says, her voice small.
    I shake my head. "Dad, Ahren and Ulfric have all helped with the search. They haven't found anything though. I'm sure they'll find a lead soon."
    Imogen gives me a look like she doesn't quite believe me but desperately wants to.
    She clears her throat. "Have you done any new paintings?"
    "Uh, yeah." We head upstairs to my studio.
    Imogen spots the portrait of Isis straight away. "Oh my god, Zi! She's gorgeous."
    "Thanks."
    "Is this the same woman from your street art?"
    "Yeah. I had another dream about her but it was really weird because I can remember everything about it," I frown, thinking back on that conversation about the Guardians.
    "Have you named it yet?"
    I hadn't, but a word spills from my mouth. "Life."
    Imogen turns back to study the painting, "Does the woman have a name?"
    "Isis."
    "Isis? Wasn't she that goddess in Ancient Egypt or something?"
    I shrug.
    Imogen watches me carefully. After a few moments of silence, it's starts to feel awkward.
    "What?"
    Imogen doesn't answer straight away and it's infuriating. "Remember when I told you I felt like something had changed in your brothers?"
    "Yeah, they'd finally hit puberty." I deadpanned.
    Imogen snorted. "No, Zi. It was something else. I know you and your family don't tell me everything about being a Guardian and I understand," she quickly adds when I'm about to protest. "The moment I arrived today I felt something different about you. Like with your brothers. But you're different. Your essence is massive in comparison to theirs."
    What the hell can I say to that? I've always known that there's more to Imogen, but this is just something else entirely.
    "Essence?"
    "Yeah – I mean, that's what I call it. Everyone has a feel about them and you feel – I don't know how to describe it. Bigger somehow?"
    I try to hide my unease with a snort and weak smile. "I'm trying not to take offense to that."
    Imogen matches my smile. "You know what I mean!"
    A real laugh rises through my chest and I feel ashamed and guilty. This isn't the time for joking.
    "I'm starving," I state and start for the door, hoping this conversation would end.
    "You're always starving or famished or deprived of food," Imogen shakes her head. "It's insane."

✲✲✲✲✲

    Imogen stays for lunch and we chill until the afternoon before I walk her home.
    "I hope everything goes well for you, Zi. It sucks that you have to leave tomorrow. Are you sure you can't stay considering what's happening with Owen?"
    I shake my head, "I asked Mom and Dad and they said I have to go. Apparently they have a strict deadline or something. But you need to keep me posted, okay?"
    "Of course," Imogen says with those big eyes. "I'll let you know the moment I hear anything."
    We round the corner to her home and walk the rest of the distance in silence. Before Imogen goes inside she turns, "Are you wearing contacts?"
    "No. Why?"
    "It's just that your eyes look brighter than usual. Its like I'm looking into a forest or something. Seriously!" she says, when I let out a snort. "They look brighter. Here."
    She grabs my hand and yanks me through the door with surprising strength.
    On the wall of Imogen's entryway is a mirror and she shoves me in front of it.
    "Immy, I've really got to go– "
    "Zivena it'll take ten seconds. Just look for god's sake."
    I give up and look at myself properly since waking up this morning. My eyes are brighter than before.
    "See?"
    I continue to stare at myself. What the hell?