The Brewers of Earth: Elysian Secrets

Chapter 4

The Portcullis building in Westminster looms before me, foreboding in its darkness and surrounding of guards and security. I frown as I look up at the hundred year old building not too far away from Big Ben, and related to the government, wondering why I’d been bought here. I didn’t question it, I didn’t feel like talking – hadn’t been talking, even when I wanted to. Questions just gathered more questions and talking gathered more talking.

Despite myself, I shiver slightly as a cold breeze from the River Thames blows our way. I wrap my arms around myself and Eddie huddles in closer, but I idly walk away, feigning distraction. Things hadn’t been right between us – between anyone – not since what I did.

I stand away from Arya and Eddie as I watch the guards shuffling and chatting nonchalantly in an ominous white light. They didn’t see us watching in the shadow of night. Tyne and Merial had gone to park, leaving us in the dimly lit street of London where drunkards hastily wobbled home and the homeless fidget in their sleeping bags. It was quiet – too quiet. I squint towards the direction Merial and Tyne had gone, watching and listening for any sign of their approach, but there was none. I move closer to the brick wall as a spider of dread crawls down my spine.

The hairs on the back of my neck stand up as the breeze momentarily halters, making the night go still. I exhale, casting my gaze wearily around us while Eddie and Arya start a hurried pace towards the loud, now approaching clicking of Merial and Tyne’s leather boots like my own. My arms crossed, I walk silently away from them, not wanting to talk about why we’re here, or anything else, and go in the direction of the Thames, their hushed conversation and many London buildings fading behind me.

My hands burn from the bite of the cold from the metal bar on the bridge above the river, and the chill of the wind seeps through my training clothes – the comfiest of all the clothes they’d supplied me with. They were tight yet stretchy black trousers (like horse riding ones), accompanied with a tight long sleeved black T-Shirt and a figure hugging, sleeveless gold tunic – gold to notify every Shaman, Druid and whatever else, what kind of power simmered beneath. Stupid, I thought, might as well have a neon sign. The material wasn’t expensive but it was definitely of fine make and tailored to my exact fit. How they’d figured that out, I didn’t know, but it was soft on my skin and didn’t drench me with sweat. It allowed free movement – which was required when one was dodging and parrying from each and every direction. Knee-high black leather boots completed the look, and with all the black accompanied by my dark eyes, my pale hair had never seemed lighter, echoing the golden tunics slight shine. And it suited me, accenting my slim, and hour-glass figure; even if it was just a novice’s bit of gear. The real stuff was yet to come.

I stretch my aching muscles (thanks to all the exercising I was now doing) and let the distant sigh of cars wash over me, taking comfort in this small bit of privacy the shadows and the others let me have. I was never alone anymore. Always being watched, always being controlled, like I might snap at any minute and lose control. It seemed that both my ice and flame were just as deadly. I take a deep breath, loving the feeling of finally being outside the walls of the Wiley house. I felt like a caged animal being trapped in there for two months. Only a few times a week taken to the park for basic combat training, and even that wasn’t enough.

I thought Eddie or Tyne would’ve sought me out by now, scolding me and pushing me towards the next stage of training, like there was some big rush. The thought of training made me want to groan and laugh and scream all at the same time. I loved training; it had become a daily occurrence in the last month of my bizarre life. Some days practising on my energy focus, others meditating and the best ones of all, combat training. It had become a well needed and deserved break from my worries and thoughts. But it had all been controlled and tense ever since that night, where what I did – where I burned –

I clamp down on the thought, moving away from the river, my chest tight and my breathing difficult. I’d never do that again, I’d never let the burning inside of me out ever again. I turn around, my head down, needing to get away, and walk straight into the warmth of a person. I jump back and cover my mouth, biting down on my screech, going instinctively into my defensive stance and look up into the face of –

I scowl at nothing, seeing no one there; nothing but a shadow scuttling under the light of a lamp in the road next me. A rat, I foolishly soothe. But I knew it was never anything normal anymore. The night atmosphere wasn’t right, especially for London, even if it was late at night, it should still be streaming with people on a Friday night. I sniff the air as a foul, smoky tang tickles my senses, and a flicker of a memory dances across my mind. Something – perhaps excitement – flutters in my stomach, in the hopes it was Kearn. He always lurked in the shadows of my dreams, too far away for me to reach him, and I always awoke with an ache in my chest, that I knew I shouldn’t feel over some crazy stranger. But I whip around in all directions anyway, my eyes searching for him in the inky dark. I knew he could manipulate the mind, I know what he was. Perhaps my mind is playing tricks, I try to convince myself, but it was a fleeting effort.

Not letting myself linger any longer, I hurry back to the others, my heart pounding in my chest. They’re coming.

I keep my pace brisk as I hurry back the way I came, the shadows like moving ink under the yellow street lights. I avert my eyes, ignoring the yearning inside to go to them, to succumb to them, like they always wanted me to do. Even in my dreams. Nightmares, I correct myself. The beating of my heart hums in my chest as I fall into a light jog and I almost cry with relief when I spot Eddie’s concerned face looking my way and then the others following suit. I keep my face neutral as I jog up to them, pushing the shadows at bay, like I’d taught myself to this past month. They stood in a little crowd, looking down at me as I stand in front of them, offering a small smile. I catch my breath, even though I was barely winded.

“I just needed a minute.” I explain, feeling bad that I’d made them wait. They deserve it, something inside me snarls. No they don’t, I retort. No one says anything, Tyne simply moves to a cast iron, black gate, where guards and security men stand around. We walk behind him, Arya falling into step beside me, a question in her eyes. “I just needed a minute.” I repeat, low enough so only she can hear.

“You can’t just disappear, Lil. We’re supposed to protect you.” She whispers back, a slight scold in her voice. I bite my tongue on my urge to swear. She twists slightly to look me in eye, but I keep my expression distant and stormy, avoiding her unwavering gaze.

Her hair was braided on top of her head and she wore the same outfit as me, but somehow she wore it better, like she always had. I swallow back the bile of bitterness in my throat.

“I think you’re confusing the word protect, with smother.” I hiss mutedly at her, before storming off. I don’t turn around to see the sad expression I know was on her face – I don’t want to feel the guilt, and I certainly praise myself for it when Eddie clicks his tongue, whispering to Arya.

“The council won’t be pleased that we are late.” I roll my eyes, ignoring the pang of dread surging through me. The council. The London Incolo council, The Royals’ group of peace keepers and advisors – my dad one of them, a leader in it even. Or he had been. My chest tightens mildly.

The Royals were the Elysian government, formed to rule and protect us when Erutan no longer could. They were once her council but had to take control of Elysia when the connection to Erutan was severed by Lilith, The Mother of Demons, and her armies. I’d been told that things had been a struggle for the Elysian race since, and sometimes The Royals and The Incolo had to make hard decisions, including the decision to shield me from this world – a decision I didn’t understand and a decision I despised. But their rule and the peace they aspired to bring was what made us warriors, was what kept the purpose of the race alive. Defeat Lilith and the darkness she poised against the world, and keep the world alive. No pressure.

Even though I’d read ancient books into the night until my eyes had ached, and been told over and over again the brief history of our – as they kept calling it – country, I still couldn’t find myself at peace with it all. Things weren’t adding up, it was all too simple, there had to be more. There had to be secrets, like there always seemed to be. Why had they not decided to tell me I’d been born part of the Elysian race? And what even made us Elysian? My mind was always full of endless questions; questions I had learned would not be answered, no matter how many times I asked Tyne or Merial or my two best friends – people I found myself no longer trusting as the days trapped in Eddie’s house wore on.

Why aren’t I allowed to go home?

We walked as a line and formed a group in front of the guards, who stiffened at our approach. Normally, only guests or tourists who paid a fee got in through this entrance, sometimes not even then. So I simply kept my mouth shut, letting my ignorance slice painfully through my curiosity. From what Eddie had said earlier, I sussed that the London Incolo had a rendezvous here, a location that I had not been able to know before, even as the new leader of the council – councilman Myles Hutton, a harsh, cold and calculating man with a cruel smile who took over after my dad’s sudden departure – had questioned me 6 days after my Awakening. He had asked the nature of which my power manifest in (golden ice at the time), the knowledge that I knew of the Elysian world throughout my life (which was none), if my father or Olive had ever shown signs of acting suspiciously (which was never), and if I’d ever had contact with the boy Kearn before (which I lied about). He looked at me with eyes gleaming with the promise of future pain if I had lied to him, and then made his leave, telling Merial and Tyne my training regime and what I could and could not do. Like go into my own home – or try and contact my dad.

None of my questions had been answered that day and if they had, they were all round about ways of not answering my questions, or answering my questions with more questions. My eyes had ached that evening from all the glaring I had done at the dinner table. Eddie and Arya, to my utter disgust, had not helped me get the answers I so desperately needed. Their faces remained neutral; their mouths a grim line as the olive skinned, black and gray haired councilman interrogated me and gave nothing in return. They stood like guards, like warriors, riled with energy that was ready to pounce at any oncoming attack. And then there was me, jumpy, pale and dark eyed, my breathing still laboured by my aching muscles. I didn’t stand a chance against the wicked, disarming Druid, and the flaring of his nostrils and raised voice as I failed to comprehend many of confusing questions.

I swallow the lump in my throat that forms from the memories and focus on Tyne in front of me, the back of his head slightly showing the movement of his jaw – the only indication to his irritation at the guard holding an arm out in front of us, not letting our group pass through. Tyne moves his head slightly to lean down to the guards’ ear, and I shuffle on the cobbled stone to hear.

“Tyne Wiley and his group are here to see Hutton.” He murmurs, his voice laced with irritation at yet another interruption. An Elysian then, who must deal with the coming’s and going’s of Druids and Shamans often.

“Oh, I am aware of your family Mr Wiley,” the guard inclines his head in Merial and Eddie’s direction, his voice bemused. “And I’m also aware of the Calder’s.” He inclines his head at Arya then, his jaw tensing and his eyes narrowing at Tyne. “But who I am not aware of, is the beauty you’re trying to smuggle in at the back.” His eyes flick to me then and a small smile lights up his face, like he was holding back a snicker over Tyne’s growing disgruntlement. He calls me a beauty, but it barely registers as his eyes snap to Tyne’s face and he crosses his arms.

“Lily Arlyn.” Tyne mutters in a gruff voice, his nose sharp in the light silhouetting him.

“Michael’s daughter?” He raises his eyebrows, leaning back on his heels like he was surprised, but I see through the charade. He knew all along. “I thought so; I’d know those eyes anywhere.” I frown at his emphasis on the words.

“Then why bother asking?” Tyne snaps. The guard smiles broadly then, revealing his white teeth, his dark eyes sparking as he looks at our group, his gaze landing on me. Everything seems to slow down as a flash of familiarity glistens in his eyes and vanishes before he winks at me and diverts his attention back to Tyne, his smile dimming slightly. I blink, surprised, and look around at the others, the air warping and becoming lighter, time picking up speed.

They show no sign of seeing the little passing between us. I raise an eyebrow at him, squinting to see more of his features. Perhaps I did know him. His face was shadowed by the bright white light that shines behind him but I focus on his eyes. From what I could tell, his face was slightly tan, his hair blonde and straight as it escaped his fitted black uniform hat, his mouth a sensuous curve, but his eyes… I frown at him, noting the endless depth of them as they turn to me, the slight crinkle to the corners, the familiar zeal as they casually slide over my body, like eyes that had once before. I suppress my urge to blurt out to him, to ask him if I knew him like I once would’ve, but I simply avert my gaze, dismissing the thought. It is not Kearn, Lily.

He gestures us through and steps to the side, waving his hand grandly in the direction of the door. I smile slightly, holding back my laugh at his dramatic, mocking display and trail at the back behind Arya. As I pass him, we look at each other, locked in a stare, my breathing hitched as I gaze up into his eyes. He smiles faintly, almost sincerely with shining eyes, and whispers a murmur to me but I can’t make it out in the hurry towards the building and the thudding in my ears at his closeness. Panic seizes my stomach as I force myself not to stop and converse with him in front of watchful eyes. Carry on walking, Lil, I twist my neck and strain to hear what he says, to read his lips, as I brush past. I falter slightly as I try to keep my pace, and I open my mouth to ask but he shakes his head slightly, – so slight it is barely noticeable – his eyes flicking to the other guards, their eyes scrunching in scrutiny. So I quickly look in the direction I’m walking and pass through a door. I look back just before the door slams an inch from my nose, sending my hair flying slightly. But he was already gone. And I could’ve sworn his sad smile remained in my vision – I could’ve sworn the words suddenly rung through me, vibrating my ears and reverberating in my stomach.

Good luck Lily Arlyn, class C2.

We walk through the Portcullis building from a hidden side door, and I can’t help but be amazed by it. The outside was most definitely deceiving – depicting a grey stone, gloomy building with lots of black framed windows – but it was light and airy inside, sleek marble benches the centre of the main room, with trees and grass upraised in alignment. The ceiling was full of golden looking framed, criss-crossing windows, revealing the moon and the starry sky above. Strange, diamond and curved mirrors seamlessly hung from the windows above, reflecting to silver hue from the sky. I could understand why Shamans and Druids would like this place and I could feel the buzz of energy in the dark room. There were stairs at the end of the room and spiralled up to a little ledge where a door led elsewhere, a dim light shining above. But we didn’t go in that direction, instead, we turned on our heel and went towards the visitor entrance, or rather, the elevator beside it.

The suited, polite faced man that had greeted us at the door urged us into the elevator as it arrived. He smiles at me slightly as I walk past, his eyes barely depicting his curiosity towards me. I knew I was a case of speculation amongst The Incolo and The Royals, and councilman Hutton had said as much, but what I didn’t know was that everything seemed so stiff, so secure and cold with feigned politeness. Not the way I had expected Shamans and Druids to be.

He walks in after us and pulls out a plain white card and swipes it over a dull gray pad – something I hadn’t even noticed. It beeps as the card nears and lights up with the letters IRE in glowing white, before quickly fading and the doors shutting. The elevator jolts as it begins to move down, my stomach flipping at the sudden movement. I eye the pad where the letters had once been, frowning as I wonder what the letters could stand for, turning over different words in my head. I hold my snort at the irony of the words. They all certainly bought me ire.

The polite man smiles down at me, his blue eyes crinkling. I look up at him, trying and failing to hide my surprise as I note how much younger he looks up close. And how much he looks like Eddie. I could feel myself beginning to gape and he laughs lightly, a beautiful sound that fills the space in the small elevator. I can’t help but laugh nervously, looking away from him.

“They stand for Incolo, Royals, Elysia; the ultimate union.” He whispers, leaning in towards me with amusement flashing in his eyes, his hands clasped in front of him. His stubble had deceived me, I thought he was much older, and although his eyes were blue and his hair slightly mousy brown, it was the angle of his jaw line, the sweep of his nose, and the mischievous spark to his eyes that made him look like Eddie. Perhaps even the way he held himself – straight backed and proud.

When I don’t say anything and simply tightly smile at him, he extends his hand to me, ruffling his neatly pressed dark blue suit, and holding his light blue tie with the other. A Shaman, then. I eye his hand before accepting it, feeling a hum of heat and electricity where we touch. I wince but he doesn’t notice. He shakes it gently and introduces himself. “I’m Taz Wiley, Eddie’s cousin.” He nods in acknowledgement at him then. That explained the looks. I never even knew Eddie had any other family other than his grandparents, and I push to keep the multiple emotions off of my face. What else didn’t I know? I know I’d asked curious questions countless times when he’d left me in the summer, claiming to stay with grandparents for months on end, just like Arya. I saw the suspicion in it all now, but I had never blanched at it then. I will never be so foolish again.

“Lily Arlyn.” I choke out, my voice rough from not having spoken in a little while. I clear my throat and flick my eyes to Eddie and Arya, promising more questions later. They look at each other in affirmation. “I didn’t know Eddie has a cousin.” I say, trying to sound polite and interested, maybe I even was a little – just a little. It had been so long since I’d even spoken to another person outside of my dreams.

“He doesn’t like to talk about me because I beat him in every way.” He says light heartedly, clapping Eddie on the back, a bit too roughly. Eddie laughs and smiles at him – a real genuine smile – and quickly goes to punch his gut, but Taz easily blocks and ruffles his cousin’s hair. They were almost like brothers. Arya and I chuckle at the pair, the sound odd to my ears.

“I never thought you’d be outmatched Ed.” I taunt sarcastically, bringing back the old ease between us. His eyes widen at me before he smirks.

“Well he’s pretty good.” He states matter of fact. “For a Shaman.” Never mind. Taz goes for him then, just as the elevator doors open and we all scuffle out. Merial hits Eddie upside the head as she passes him.

“Mind your manners.” She hisses. “Your mother is a Shaman.” She flicks a piece of soft ice at his face, laughing when it goes up his nose and he yelps. Merial stands next to me then, wrapping her arm around my shoulders.

“Taz is Tyne’s sister’s son, Amber Wiley.” She explains with warm eyes as she looks at me. Tyne huffs at the name of his sister and starts walking down the corridor we’d walked into. It was fairly narrow and dimly lit with mint green walls and cream marble flooring. Orbs of amber light hovered above, depicting the glow of fire and swaying faintly. I gawk at them, wondering who stood there and kept their focus on orbs of light all day, and how much I would not like to be them.

We fall into a line as we walk down the corridor, passing multiple wooden doors leading into different rooms. Who would’ve thought a place like this existed under the House of Parliament? Did the Prime Minister know? Was the Prime Minister an Elysian too? Different questions danced in and around my head, and then Taz stopped and knocked on a door, the 8th door down. Not that I had been counting. A call from inside telling us to come in confirms our entry, and Taz opens the door, ushering us inside. From what I could see, it looked a lot like the room of healing in Eddie’s basement. What is it with people having creepy secret basements? I think, pushing back on my snort, but not my small bemused smile. Taz looks at me then, the last one to go inside. He was taller by a good 6 inches, and his face glows in the light of amber glow from both orbs and Lily flowers above, darkening his eyes slightly.

“I hope to see you again, Lily Arlyn.” He breathes, his voice becoming deep and articulate. My heart rate picks up from the chord it strikes within and I have to avert my eyes. It is not Kearn, Lily. Two strange guys in one evening were more than enough. I nod and walk into the room, listening to the soft click of the door behind me and Taz’s retreating footsteps.

This room was another room of healing, almost exactly the same as the one under Eddie’s house. The wooden bark walls with markings of stars and lines on them; the stone floor; the vines and flowers above; and the pool of Erutan in the middle, but bigger, with a statue of an beautiful ethereal woman holding the tablet with stars and lines on it. The water shimmered and cast white swirling lines on me and the others around. We sat cross legged around its white hue, me facing directly opposite the statue. It was almost relaxing in here, even with councilmen Hutton staring at me, his eyes cold and his face impatient as I asked yet another question.

“So… What, exactly, am I doing again?” Arya and Eddie sat beside me, with Merial and Tyne beside each one of them. The rest of the Incolo sat around too, faces I didn’t recognise. Most were blank as they stare at me, some were friendly and inquisitive. There were around 8 of them, not including Merial, Tyne, Hutton and my dad; 12 council members all together – 6 Shamans, 6 Druids. I had shaken each and every one of their hands, being introduced to an important Incolo council. I wondered if some were also married, like Tyne and Merial, and if they all stayed in London. But from the different accents and tans on their skin, I assumed not. One woman had struck me as different from the rest, and her eyes peer at me now. Her hair was long, curly and black and her face pretty; her pale with a hint of rose to her cheeks. She had dark brown, curious eyes with a nose small and her lips were pink and plump. Black eye liner and mascara accented her big eyes so much like my own and I couldn’t help but stare at her, as if I’d seen a picture of her hanging around somewhere. She looked around the same age as my dad, her wrinkles showing the grains of time. I squint at her and she smiles, a beautiful thing. Then it vanishes and she turns her attention back to Hutton. As do I.

“You are to go into the meditative state that you have been practising with Merial for the past two months.” Hutton snaps clearly infuriated that I was taking so long to grasp this. I simply wasn’t listening; even if he did make my skin crawl. I couldn’t even believe someone like him could ever take over from my dad – who was so patient and always clear headed. “You must pierce through the veil of the third eye.” He carries on. I look around at everyone sitting around the beautiful, shimmering pool. I knew I could do it; I’d been working on it for two months. But why?

Meditation had been boring at first, and I’d just sat with my eyes closed for hours on end – until one day, I hadn’t. Something shimmered in the darkness of my mind, like sun rays hitting mist at the right angle. I moved towards it, walking through the fog, and then – and then nothing. It was just fog; thick and endless and a riddle of clearings and faint, false images beyond. Sometimes the images showed pictures of my mum, sometimes of my dad and Olive or Kearn. Sometimes, I even saw myself back when I had burnt Eddie, when I had attacked him. And that was the one I always turned away from in the mist, because somewhere, deep inside, it was a moment I didn’t want to face – it was a moment I truly didn’t want to change, either. That’s what haunted me in my sleep on the nights after meditating, after visiting the veil to the third eye – the veil I had failed to puncture.

“Lily? Are you listening?” Hutton asks with that impatient tone of his. My face must’ve looked as blank as it felt as I snap out of my thoughts, as I so often had found myself doing my whole life. I zone back in, focusing on his face. “Have you been able to break through the veil?” He asks, flipping through pages of a little brown leather book.

“Uhm, sort of.” I say hesitantly. It was something I only discussed with Merial and somehow, the information seemed intimate in front of all these strangers. “I get there and can’t seem to… Find my way? If that makes sense.” Huttons face softens a fraction and he looks at me with a levelling stare, like I’d finally said something worthwhile.

“Yes, of course, Lily. That is very good then.” He gestures to everyone and stands up. “Shall we begin?” He looks at me with his cold eyes, his sharp nose take a deep inhale.

“Begin what?” I ask, standing up with everyone else. He smiles at me, showing his teeth, his eyes lighting up. It is not a pleasant thing.

“Your Ascention.”

“No one can pass through the veil on their own, Lily. And sometimes it is a strange and twisted place.” Hutton speaks softly from around the pool. I lay in the cool water in just a long white sleeveless t-shirt they had given to me to change into. It felt dense and heavy as I float in the now gold, shimmering water, letting my energy spread through it. The natural instinct my magic seemed to take. “That power would be too great.” He carries on, looking down on me as my long hair floats around me, lapping against my shoulder slightly. I flick my eyes the black haired lady, whose name I just couldn’t remember – or perhaps I hadn’t even been told. She gives me an encouraging closed mouth smile, her cheek bones heightening at a lovely angle. I take a breath and cast my eyes to Merial then, her eyes motherly and she looks at me.

“So, what must I do?” I ask, feeling the need to put it off as an irrational fear clings to my stomach.

“You’re Ascension is crucial to you becoming a stable Druid or Shaman. It is the connecting with your soul. Unlike normal mortals, our magic detaches us from our soul when we are born, but it is with the soul that we harbour our power, only once coming fully to us at our Awakening.” He explains in a deep, teacher-like voice. I frown, turning over the information – more information that sounded far too unreal. Souls didn’t exist – none of it did before now.

“That doesn’t make sense.” I state, noticing the contradiction. I’d vaguely read the word Ascension in a book from my studies, and no one had really mentioned it either.

“It is not something that can be explained with logic and science, Lily. It’s like… Our soul leaves us at birth, recognising the essence in our blood. Our bodies reject it.” He says, almost contemplative. “It is not known for sure, if I am honest with you.” He shakes his head faintly at me, his face almost sad at the knowledge he does not acquire. The first human emotion she’d seen from him. “It is not information spoke about amongst our kind, but myths and old tales speak of the soul taking refuge in the stars, in earth, gathering power, becoming compatible. That is how we gain our affinities for different magic, no matter what the parents are.” The Incolo around me nod with their faces distant as if reliving the stories of their child hood. Arya smiles wickedly at me, her eyes depicting future gruesome stories she will tell. I nod, accepting his explanation – like I had accepted everything else. “Now, we are wasting time. Let us begin.” They all clasp hands and begin to chant in calming, soft Latin. Their hands shine where they touch.

“Wait! What must I do?” I call over their chanting, panic seizing my chest. He hadn’t explained enough… I – I wasn’t ready, I didn’t want to choose. If I chose, would I lose one power or the other? What would happen? I had too many questions.

“Go to the veil! The rest we will do!” Tyne shouts over the now loud chanting. My breathing comes quick as I stare at him wide eyed. He looks down at me and nods in encouragement, Eddie and Arya following his lead. So I scrunch my eyes shut and let my head float on the pillow of cool, shimmering water, letting the chanting seep in and slow my heart rate. I inhale and exhale deeply, focusing inwards, towards my magic. Everything started to blur around the edges and muffle slightly, but not in the same way one does when they sleep. It was more like a gentle darkness bubbling up and covering my mind until eventually, everything slipped away.

I walk towards the sparkling mist that hovers in the distance, embracing its cool touch as it settles on me when I pass through. I keep walking forwards, as I always did, looking for an end. I falter slightly as an array of colours and lights from the images mirage around me. Perhaps there is no end – perhaps it just is. I jump 10 feet into the air and cover my mouth to hold back my yelp as a sound crashes above me. There had never been sound in here before. I look up, seeing only mist and darkness beyond. The sound muffled but loud, sounding like the calming words of Latin I’d come accustomed to. Wait, Latin? I frown, confused. Why am I here again? I turn back around, looking towards the direction I’d come in, but I see no clear path in the fog that seemed be getting denser. The muffled words get stronger and louder from above and I cover my ears, to keep them from drumming in. I carry on walking, like I could maybe get away from the disturbance to my meditation. But am I meditating? I don’t recall.

I stop and search around, looking for a clear path in the mist. I squint my eyes and stand on my tip toes but I – there, I see one. I hurry towards it, eager to find an end or a way through that I so desperately found myself seeking. Just as I run towards it an image appears in its wake, blurred and beautiful and shining. I skid to a halt, sliding on the slippery ground – ground that was now grass, wet, wet grass. I fall forwards onto my knees as phantom hands nudge me forwards, the muffled Latin fading behind. I look down at the deep green grass, spotting the soft white falling snow before me. Looking up, getting to my feet, I watch the faint snow falling delicately on a never ending field.

The grass sways and sighs in the frozen breeze as I peer over the huge field and the falling snow that never touched the ground. I shiver as it whips through me, pushing me in the direction away from a tree line behind. Thick, large dark wood trees form a line as far as I can see, covering a huge area. The air around the brush and brambles seems to sing with animosity and radiate inky shadows, so I withdraw my gaze and follow the direction in which the wind pushes me, walking the other way across the frozen field.

The wind and snow stops the moment I begin to walk along, away from the ominous tree line and towards a light twinkling in the cloudy sunlight that now begins to shine through. My feet press against the soft grass beneath as I stop before a large hill looming above me, my long white t-shirt swaying in the cooling breeze. I didn’t blanch at my odd clothes as a memory vaguely shuffles into view in my mind. I recall getting changed into it the soft sleeveless t-shirt, a pocket on the breast. I glance up at the top of the hill, resting my hand above my forehead to shield my eyes from the rays of sun peaking through the light grey clouds. I look behind me, feeling for the inky shadows of the trees, but when I look back, the tree line is miles away, like I’d been walking for hours. Had I been walking for hours? It only felt like moments ago.

A haze seems to come to the edges of my vision, creating a shining, transparent smear. A dream, I huff a little laugh to myself. It was indeed unlike any dream I’d had before. But how did I get here? I frown in puzzlement, trying to piece the fragments together, but nothing comes to light, expect the one atop the hill. I scramble my way up the steep incline of the hill, my legs burning and my hands out stretched before me, gripping the grass to help me heave myself up. I didn’t see any way around the hill, or perhaps even through it, so climbing it is.

I near the top and the twinkling light flickers slightly, before disappearing. It was a silver sliver that ceased to exist as it winks out, like a living thing sensing I’m near. Pushing myself up the last little bit of hill, I crawl up onto the top, grass and mud staining the heels of my palms and knees. The clouds clear away and the sun beats down on me, a cool breeze blowing on the sweat I’d built up in the climb. I pant before getting to my knees and then to my feet. I look out, a picturesque sweep of fields of flowers and grass, the occasional pieces of large white stone protruding them. I gasp in awe at the array of colours and exotic flowers, going for miles on end, as far as the eye can see. Golden Lily’s lay in wild beds at my feet, and I kneel down to touch one, careful of its staining pollen.

“Enjoying the view?” someone asks behind me, their voice high pitched and crisp with keenness. I twist my body around, sitting in the bed of flowers, and gaze at a long black haired girl in a long soft white sleeveless t-shirt – like my own. It was… It was me who gazed back. My mouth goes dry as I take a sharp inhale of breath at my dark brown eyes, gleaming with amusement and my small smile playing at my lips, heightening my rosy cheeks on my high cheek bones. I move towards myself and my – her – face drops. “Don’t.” She calls, putting her hand out to stop me. “There is a barrier there.” She says, her voice flitting with worry. “You cannot cross such a line.” She says shaking her head. But I see no line – I see no barrier. She sat there with her arms wrapped around her knees, her head c****d to the side as she eyes me, slowly moving towards her, like she already knew what I wanted to do. Because she’s you! My mind exclaims.