When We Spirits Awaken

Chapter 6: You

The silence that filled the air was unbearable. No one moved and no one spoke; even our breathing was barely detected in the deafening quiet that filled the room.

It was during this time that I really took in the man's appearance.

He was in his early forties, tall, had an even muscle tone, pale skin and blue eyes. His hair was a dark red with a shaggier cut and, from the obvious stubble, needed a shave. He wore a pair of dark jeans and a black and red checker shirt with the sleeves lazily rolled up while the buttons were done neatly.

Still, the silence ebbed on and I could not take it any longer. Clearly, Emily was not impressed with this man, and I did not need further explanation to know he should leave. "Sir, I do not know who you are or the matter which has brought you into my home, but you are clearly causing my friend unnecessary grief, so if you could--"

"So mature at such a young age; you are your mother's daughter," the man interrupted me.

His words took me off guard. "You were a friend of my mother's?"

"I suppose you could say I was many years ago." He said this with a contradicting look I did not understand; his smile hinted at innocence while his eyes pleaded for mercy.

Emily choked back an angry laugh and shook her head while glaring daggers at the man. "Yes, you would say that, wouldn't you? Your honesty with her amazes me."

He turned his head toward Emily. "And what do you expect that I should say?"

Emily smacked her fist on the counter. "The truth, dammit!"

My mouth nearly dropped. I did not curse, and I certainly did not think it was possible that Emily would ever let a swear escape her lips. Yet one had, showing me how wrong this entire situation was.

"I have already told you it is not that simple!" the man shouted back.

I was not having any more of this. "Enough! What is going on? Who are you?" I demanded.

He looked to Emily with a pleading glance, but her intensifying glare proved that he was on his own. Emily stood closer to me, leaning against the counter as the man searched for words.

As he thought, unknown anger surged through me. I felt my magics pulse in my hand, daring to come out, but I controlled them. This man may have known my mother, but that did not mean he knew of magics.

He had given me no logical reason to be angry, so why did I have the urge to hate him?

Finally, with a deep breath and concentrated look, the man raised his hand. Suddenly, small, white sparks rose from his fingertips. His face turned a darker shade as he tried to continue with the sparks but, as fast as they came, they disappeared again.

I knew what he was showing me. The white colour proved he held white magics, just as my mother and I did, but there were only three that had such a gift.

During the ancient times, before anyone had magics, Vanoria had been captured by great darkness, so great that it even threatened to break through the portal and into this world. The Ruler of Light chose only three who he saw had courage and strength beyond all others of Vanoria.

He gave the three white magics so they could stand together and defeat the evil that dwelled in Vanoria, but one of the three was deceived and became the very evil which they were meant to destroy. His magics turned black, as did his very soul.

Though the two who remained loyal to the Ruler of Light had defeated the darkness and the man, his evil powers lived on in the son he had hidden to carry out his will to take over Vanoria and the New World once again.