Revival Of Stars

5 | Symphony of Chaos

CHAPTER 5
•••

It'd be a while before dawn; darkness still covered the sky, save for the dots of Stars peppered across like freckles on blue skin. Trees and small buildings flew past quickly, merging together in a mixture of brown, green, and gray as the car sped down the winding road.

Etta sat in the back of a taxi, her legs bouncing anxiously as the bundle of nerves settled in the pit of her stomach. The woman's words from her dream played like a mantra inside her head, in hopes that it'd ease her worries: This legacy is for you, which is why only you can decide whether it means something or not.

And she had decided to go through with it, to follow the path leading to a destination she didn't even know about until being burned on the wrist. And, obviously, there would be risks, ugly risks—depending on if the old lady was true to her words. Etta was hoping for it to be true. Or else she would have been stressing for absolutely no reason.

'Well...maybe Sierra was right," Etta suddenly pondered guiltily. 'I'm probably just going insane. Perhaps I should just stop and...move on like she said."

An image of the beautiful woman appeared in her head suddenly. The endearing black eyes, the swirling form of her hair that hung around her like a halo, the gentle hand that reached out for Etta. It was so vivid, as if engraved into the depths of her mind, imprinted there to never be erased. Etta remembered the warmth that flooded through her chest, then—one that she had often felt around her mother.

In that moment, in the dream, Etta remembered feeling something shift inside her—an instinct, perhaps. The plethora of doubts seemed to have dissipated like sand after the beautiful woman had parted her lips, sweet advice pouring out divinely.

Upon her encouragement, Etta knew that she just had to go, to find out what all this meant. Recalling back to the encounter at The Archaic Bar, the old lady had mentioned the descendent of Jare Bobbit, and that Etta's destiny was somehow twisted with his. How were they even connected?

All of a sudden, like a fierce viper twisting around its prey, the sudden revelation squeezed Etta with fear.

The descendent of Jare Bobbit.

She was going to meet him.

Although she'd often try to mute the horrid words that'd spew from the Wispern civilian's mouths about the infamous Jare Bobbit, there was always that lingering doubt—a poisonous, dark stain of doubt—that'd taint her belief that Jare Bobbit wasn't evil at all.

Because what if he was?

'No.' Etta hit the sides of her head frantically. 'Don't assume. Rumors are just rumors. Legends are just legends.'

The driver raised an eyebrow as he watched Etta bang the sides of her head through the rear-view mirror.

After her last hit, she awkwardly caught his eyes, to which she cleared her throat and smiled embarrassedly.

The driver looked back at the road. "Well, ma'am, it seems that we have arrived."

She nodded her head. "Okay...wait, what!" Etta choked on her spit as her eyes widened. She snapped her gaze outside of the window, and, sure enough, incredibly tall mansions towered over the car, appearing like mighty kings looking over the world. A long bricked fence entrapped the entire neighborhood. And blocking them was a strong gilded gate that was shut closed.

Pleasant Valley.

"Do you have the code, ma'am?"

Mouth still agape, eyes entranced, Etta barely moved her lips as she dazedly asked, "What code?"