Beautiful Darkness

➵Falling Through Time

"Are you sure about this? There are a lot of unnecessary risks." Graham's protective voice echos throughout the room.

The council before me seems to relatively agree with him.

"Yes, I am sure. This is the only way we will be able to figure anything out. I don't particularly like it, but it is necessary." I try to explain to him.

All eyes turn to Davina. She rises from her chair and takes charge of the situation.

"I need everything cleared from this table. All the chairs need to be moved to the walls and stacked. I'll need twelve candles, my book, and a lock of Arailia's hair," Davina orders. Members of the council all begin to comply with her requests. I grab the pair of scissors Davina hands to me.

I struggle to find a good piece to cut.

"Allow me," Graham's voice speaks from behind me. A shudder runs across my skin as he grabs the scissors from my hands.

His normally rough fingers softly graze through the white strands of my wild hair. He decides on a thinner section and cuts a mildly long piece out. He takes his time tracing through my hair to cover the spot. My breathing is deep as he steps back and hands it to me.

"Thanks," I offer. He gives me a small smile and joins the rest of the group.

Soon, everything is in order. Davina has each candle at proportional intervals to each other as they are lit with a blue flame. Her book is laid open at the head of the table. A carved bowl sets in front of the book.

"I need you to lay on your back on top of the table."

I follow her command and straighten myself on the cold wood of the table. I am partially exposed as the hem of my shirt rises to my mid-abdomen. I look up and meet Graham's gaze. He gives everyone a look, almost like a warning to look away.

"I need absolute silence during the spell. Concentration and pronunciation are vital." Davina directs. Everyone mumbles words of agreements.

Each of her small hands grab each side of my face. She is positions behind my head, looking down on me. She beings to mumble while taking the lock of my hand and placing it inside of the bowl with mysterious carvings on it. Next, she slices a deep cut across her hand and pours her own blood into the bowl.

The spell begins.

"Carpe industria consumentur animam meam. Trahere de vetitis euismod tenebrosam abyssum a quo ne iter. Ut producat in lucem. Redarguite. Recordatus sum semel fiat, quod non est in oblivione sit magis." Davina chants the words effortlessly over and over again.

A sudden force pulls Davina's head upward. Her chanting becomes more vigorous as each of the candles' flame turns bright red.

"Trahere in memoriam in lucem. Frange Barrorum in quibus continentur. Dona vision in mente. Dona intellectus sunt in confusione. Dona responsa ad ignotum!" Davina's voice raises to a yell by the end of her sentence. Blood trails from her nose as she speaks each word.

I feel the pull instantly.

"Graham," I try to mumble his name. The shadow of his form towering over me in the last thing I see.

Every sense is heightened. I sit up on the table trying to collect my bearings. As I look up I see that the room is empty. Each candle is burnt out. Davina's book remains open on the table although it appears untouched. Droplets of blood stain one of the pages.

I dangle each leg over the edge and stand up. The room spins, and it takes me a moment to gather my strength. My body feels oddly heavy. I drag myself through the door and out into the hallway. Voice in a nearby room enable me to head in their direction. I stop in front of the metal door and listen.