Lost

Revealing

                           It’s pitch black, I can barely see. The moon barely illuminates the outline of trees.                                             Walking into the forest, I feel the wind blow against my skin, raising goosebumps.

                                                         In  seconds it feels like I’ve been walking forever.                              Reaching the end of the tree line, I walk into an empty field, looking around I can’t see anything or anyone.

                    Shifting into my wolf, I start running across the field, I can feel the grass, dirt, and fallen                                 leaves beneath my paws. Eventually dirt changes to sand and I’m running towards water.

         A few steps before hitting the lake, something crashes into my side, hurtling me across the sand.

        Realizing it was another wolf, before I can react, I’m pinned down and feel the adrenaline pumping                                                          through my veins. We both shift back, confusing me.

                                                               Looking back up I see Enzo on top of me.

                                                                              Enzo? What’s going on?

                              My thoughts are racing, trying to find a plausible explanation. Nudging my legs                                                                            apart with his knee, he brings his lips close to mine.

                                                                            Then everything goes black.

                    Checking the time, it’s almost six a.m. For a few minutes I just sit, focusing on my breathing, calming my heart back down.

                    Why do these dreams feel so real?

                    I’ve never even been with one man, why am I dreaming of several?

                    Why won’t this stop? Please... Goddess, just make it stop.

                    Looking over from the beds edge, Ash is still sleeping, one arm over his head, the other spread across the bed.

                    What would his arm feel liked wrapped around me laying next to him? His bare chest looks so smooth. How can his muscles be so hard, but his body feel so soft?

                    All those times I accidentally ran into him or touched his chest... his abs... he felt so... solid, but soft. How much better would it feel without his shirt on?

                    Shaking those thoughts away, I start dressing.

                    How can I think that after dreaming about Enzo? What’s wrong with me?

                    Heading to the bathroom to clean up after dressing, when I walk back out, Ash is standing in all his shirtless glory, and it takes effort to look away.

                    “Good morning,” he smiles, walking toward me. “how’d you sleep?”

                    “Oh, uh – fine, I – I slept fine. You?”

                    “Good enough,” he shrugs. Looking over to my bed, he points to the floor. “Don’t forget your necklace, it’s under there.”

                    Automatically reaching to my neck, I go and crouch by the bed, reaching for it.

                    “Thanks, I’d never forgive myself if I lost this necklace…”

                    “Glad I could help,” he chuckles, “if the sun wasn’t shining at that exact angle, I wouldn’t have spot it, so thank the Goddess for that.” He’s joking, but it resonates with me, like it’s true. Like the Goddess really did show him.

-----

                    Two more days of driving and staying at motels wasn’t bad, but with every day my excitement and nerves kept building. Having no idea what to expect or what I would find, part of me was terrified to see what had become of my home all these years after the fire.

-----

                    Leaving the last motel, only several hours away, my anxiety is at an all-time high. My legs keep bouncing up and down, causing the car to shake with them, I can’t stop rubbing my hands together and fidgeting.

                    “Hey, calm down,” Ash reaches over and steadies my legs with his large, masculine hand spanning across both of my knees. The heat that radiates through my jeans from his touch both comforts me and adds to my anxiety, but in a different way.

                    “Sorry, I just… I don’t know what to expect.” Letting out a deep sigh, I try to focus on the scenery passing through my window. Naming everything I can from trees to plants, the color of the sky to the color of the leaves, the animals on the ground and in the trees and sky, anything I can name to keep my mind focused.

                    Without thinking, my hand reaches for his and our fingers intertwine. For a moment I was surprised, surprised by my own actions, surprised by his, but it’s a nice surprise. A few more hours pass, our hands still clasped together and my anxiety at full peak but kept internally now.

                    “We should be there in about ten minutes. You ready?” his voice pulls me out of my trance-like state, staring out the window.

                    “Yeah… as ready as I’ll ever be.” Taking a deep, calming breath, I tell myself everything will be okay.

                    Before I know it, we’re turning down a familiar dirt road. All the trees that were once burnt have regrown, there’s no trace of the night when so many people took their last breath. Their lives stolen from them from a selfish monster.

                    The compound, the cabins, the homes. Caved in, burnt, falling apart – the plants and trees have taken them over, holding what’s left of it all in place like a cocoon of nature enveloping the last chapter of the story of my home.

                    My eyes sting from not blinking, even when tears spill to the surface, I can’t blink them away. I can’t look away for even a second.

                    Seeing all of this again, so many emotions flood through me at once. The lightness that fills my chest from being home after so long, the pain that comes with mourning the home that’s been destroyed, the bitter anger that fills every atom in my body, making me feel like I’m going to explode, from knowing who took my family – my life away.

                    Shaking my thoughts away, I reach over to my bag and grab my father’s journal and my mother’s letter.

                    “Shall we?”

                    Nodding, I reach for the door handle.

                    “I guess we should start by my h– my old house.” I catch myself, remembering it isn’t my house anymore.

                    It just used to be.

                    Dejection fills me at that thought.

                    Wrapping his arm around my shoulders as he catches up to me, he squeezes my shoulder and pulls me into his side in silent comfort. For a few moments as we walk to the mostly destroyed house we’re both silent, and so is everything else around us. Like the world knows this is a place of mourning. When he does speak it almost startles me.

                    “Ya know,” pausing momentarily, he takes a deep breath and looks like he’s trying to figure out what to say, or how to say what he wants to. After a few seconds he lets out a deep breath, shaking his head and chuckling before continuing.

                    “I know you’ve been through so much and this must hurt more than I can ever imagine. You haven’t been here in so long, and so much has happened since... that night... but just because you haven’t been here in years, live somewhere else, or even feel at home somewhere else… this will always be in your heart as home, and that’s okay. It will always feel like home in a way and it’s okay for you to feel that way. Even if it hurts.”

                    “Thank you,” pulling him in, I wrap my arms around his waist and lean my head on his chest, “honestly that means a lot to me. I don’t know how to describe it, but you just.. make my heart feel lighter. Safer. Better. I don’t know what I’d do if I hadn’t found you.”

                    His arms close around me and for a moment we just stand like that.

                    Breaking apart, we continue toward what’s left of my house. What used to be a beautiful three-story log cabin is now little more than remains from the outside. The frame is still partially together, the roof and front wall is caved in, exposing the three floors. Walls are leaning forward, resting on some parts of the frame but miraculously still standing. It’s a mess.

                    As we get closer what used to be the front door, Ash climbs up onto the gutted and decaying wood of the remaining porch, making sure it’s stable enough to walk on. Holding his arms out to catch me if I trip, he waits at the entrance for me to make my way up so we can go inside, and I use that term very loosely, together.

                    It’s amazing in a way, everything inside is exactly as it was before that night. At least, it’s all still there, withered and wrecked, some burned from the fire, but still there. Carefully making my way around the living room, avoiding holes in the floor and decaying floorboards, I find some of our family photos hung on the walls. Some of the glass from the frames is shattered, some of the photos are burned around the edges, but they’re still there. Others are laying on the floor, what’s left of the frames are scattered around in pieces, the photos either burned, torn to shreds, or destroyed by the elements.

                    Moving to my parents office, their desks are still standing. Badly damaged, but whole. Bookshelves on the inside wall are still filled with books, mostly. The top shelves were caught in the fire but a lot are still intact.

                    Going through my parents things, I find some salvageable items to take with me. The stairs are ravaged, impossible to walk up. Ash climbs as far up as he can and calls me over, when I walk up to him, he picks me up and lifts me to the second floor. Finding a grip, I test my weight to make sure it won’t collapse and bring me down with it. When it’s safe, he hoists me up enough for me to climb the rest of the way. Leaning over the edge, I grab his hand and help him climb up before leaning back and catching my breath.

                    After a moment of rest, I get back to my feet and realize I’m right in front of my old bedroom. The door is only connected, barely, to one hinge causing it to stand diagonally.

                    Gods, it looks like it’s going to fall off any second. How is it even still attached?

                    Carefully entering my bedroom, so many memories come rushing back to me. My parents tucking me in at night, me laying on my bed drawing and coloring or writing in my journal.

                    I remember I only got a journal because I’d see my parents writing in theirs and I wanted to be just like them.

                    For a few seconds I just stand there, smiling at my memories, before turning around and walking to the other side of my room. Ash follows silently behind me, his comforting presence helps to keep me strong just by being there. As we cross my bedroom, we get to the second door, that leads to the balcony overlooking the dining room downstairs. On the opposite side of the balcony is my parent’s bedroom, but the balcony has collapsed in the middle.

                    Ash holds his arm out in front of me, stopping me from going any further. Before I can say anything, he’s jumping across the gap, and my heart drops into my stomach.

                    In only a few seconds, he lands on the opposite side of the balcony and it stays strong under his weight and the force of his jump, and I release the breath I’d been holding. Motioning for me to follow, I go to jump across but before my feet could even touch down, his hands are around my waist and he’s lowering me gently to the floor.

                    “I could’ve made it by myself, ya know.” I drawl, pretending to be offended.

                    “I know,” he smiles, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “but what kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t help you land gracefully?”

                    “Yeah ok– wait a minute,” narrowing my eyes, I point my finger at him in accusation. “are you implying I wouldn’t have landed gracefully by myself? You don’t think I’m graceful?” 

                    “Well,” he drags the word out for dramatic offense, and I roll my eyes. “technically you’re the one who said it, not me.” He shrugs with a smile, making me laugh.

                    “Yeah, you’re probably right.” I shrug and nudge his arm with my shoulder.

                    Continuing to walk toward my parents room with Ash following behind me. Miraculously, this door is actually still standing and working. Turning the knob, with one push the door falls straight back onto the floor.

                    So much for that.

                    Walking over the door, I look from side to side as I go through the room, making sure I don’t trip over any debris or fall through the floor. Against the wall in front of me are my parent’s two wardrobes, one still filled with my mother’s clothes, the other with my father’s. The wardrobes themselves aren’t in good shape, but the clothes inside are almost perfect. My mother’s dresses hang on one side, some simple summer dresses, others are dresses for special occasions.

                    I remember one summer Aunt Vee, my mother’s best friend, was having a mating ceremony. My mother bought me a beautiful dress, it had purple sparkles on the skirt and black lace covering my entire torso with lighter purple underneath, and black lace long sleeves. I had been so excited to wear it. The dress she wore was borrowed from Aunt Vee, they said it was the dress she wore to my parents mating ceremony.

                    So many memories I’d forgotten until now.

                    On the other side were cubbies and drawers with her shirts, and pants, her shoes at the bottom. She was always so organized.

                    My father’s wardrobe is pretty much the same, formal wear on one side and casual on the other, just a little messier.

                    On the far side of the room is their bed, nightstand, and writing desk. I open their nightstand for any clues about where this secret place is, but I don’t find any. In their writing desk there’s nothing, either.

                    Did I miss something?

                    Ash must be able to see the disappointment on my face, because he rests his hand on my shoulder, lightly squeezing.

                    “It’s alright, we haven’t looked everywhere yet. Maybe it’s somewhere only you would know. Like a special place you’d always go with them?”

                    My head shoots up, excitement and renewed energy filling me.

                    “You’re a genius!” I yell over my shoulder, as I run back the way we came.

                    Not waiting for Ash, I jump across the balcony, looking back to him for just a second to stick my tongue out.

                    Real mature, Bailey.

                    But I mean, he kinda deserved it.

                    I can hear his laughter ring out behind me, making me smile. When I get to the floor above the stairs, I look for the strongest spot to land and hope for the best.

                    Hurrying outside, I run around back into the tree line, Ash races to catch up at my side, not questioning me at all, just trusting me.

                    About two hundred feet into the woods, I come to a stop just before a fountain my parents built of the Moon Goddess. My mother and I used to garden here, the fountain – more like a big waterspout – connects to an underground well. The Moon Goddess is holding a crescent moon that the water comes out of when you pull the lever built into her crown. The garden is long gone, but oddly, the Moon Goddess isn’t covered in overgrown flora like everything else.

                    As I inspect the Moon Goddess, I see her crown. It’s the same as my necklace, one full moon and one crescent. Except my necklace has the crescent in front of the full moon, making it one piece, but her crown has them side by side.

                    I try inserting my necklace into the full moon, but it doesn’t fit right. Next I try to fit the crescent on top into the one on the crown, but that doesn’t work either.

                    Ash comes up to me, holding his hand out, asking to see it. I give him the necklace and he inspects it for a moment. He pulls the crescent off the full moon, and for a second I think he’s broken it, until he turns his hands and I see there was a teeny tiny hinge.

                    For a second, nothing happens, and disappointment slowly fills me. But before I could say anything, I hear a strange noise and the ground behind the fountain moves, and a hole appears. Walking around, I look into the hole and see a floor. Shrugging, I go to hop into it, but Ash pulls me back.

                    “I want to go down first in case there’s anything that could hurt you.”

                    “Why would there be anything that could hurt me? My parents made this.” I argue, motioning from the fountain to the hole.

                    “They might have also created traps to keep out anyone that got in here that isn’t you, in case someone stole your necklace or something.” He insists.

                    Part of me is frustrated, but the other part of me is heartened by his protectiveness, so I don’t argue further, I just nod my acceptance. Pulling out his phone, he turns on the flashlight and jumps down.

                    “Alright, come down. There’s stairs, so be careful.”

                    Sitting on the edge, I dangle my legs into the hole and slide down. As I’m sliding, he grabs my waist and guides me down to my feet. Both of us hold our flashlights out for light and I see another crescent and full moon engraved into the wall, I insert my necklace in and a concrete slab closes the entrance above us.

                    For a moment I’m scared we won’t be able to get back out, but Ash doesn’t seem bothered at all when I look to him.

                    “You can probably open it back up by putting the locket back in,” he says nonchalantly. “it’s probably to keep someone from coming in behind you or stumbling across a hole in the ground to a place that’s supposed to be secret.”

                    That makes sense.

                    We continue down the stairs and eventually come to a door, trying to open it, it doesn’t budge. Looking closer with my flashlight, there’s another lock engraved into the wall next to the door.

                    “Damn, they really wanted this place to stay hidden.” I mumble, making Ash laugh.

                     Positioning my necklace into it, the door opens on its own and we enter the room. Once we step inside, lights automatically turn on and reveal the entire room. It’s incredibly big and… beautiful. There’s a few tables and a desk against the back wall, a carpet covers the concrete floor, bookshelves line the walls and where there aren’t bookshelves there are paintings and photos of people, some I  recognize, others I don’t.

                    Striding toward the paintings, there are plaques naming the people in the paintings.

                    Jasmine Midnight. The woman who wrote the book I’d read, she’s beautiful. Long black hair, olive skin tone, full red lips, green eyes. She looks like she could be my sister.

                    Moving down the line of paintings and photos, I see some names I remember among strangers. Some just one person, others with their mates, and under all their names are a description of them. When I get to the photo of the couple just before my parents, I recognize them. Isla Delvaux and Atlas Storm, my mother’s parents. But… it says Grandma was from the Delvaux bloodline of Witch Royalty.

                    My mother was a hybrid? Why didn’t she tell me?

                    I mean, I was young. She was gonna tell me when I got older.

                    Right?

                    Wandering around, looking at everything here, I’m a little overwhelmed. Ash is looking through stuff on the other side of the room, he’s fascinated by all of this.

                    “I was wondering why your parent’s office didn’t have all of the books they talked to my father about. They didn’t want many people to know, but they had a lot of the books about our history that most thought were lost or destroyed. I didn’t see them in their office because they’re all down here.” He sounds so amazed and impressed, it makes me laugh.

                    Moseying over to where he is, I see what he’s talking about, almost all of the book shelf is covered in old books, some look ancient.

                    “Why would they keep all the books to themselves though?” Confusion evident on my face. “Isn’t that selfish?”

                    “Not really,” he says, shaking his head. “Years before either of us were born, some shifters went after the books. They hated Royals and wanted to destroy everything about the history of us, especially the Royals, and all other information regarding them.”

                    “Ohhh, that makes sense.”

                    “Yeah, and from what I’ve been told, every Royal family since I guess the books were written has had a lot of the oldest books in their possession to keep them safe for the future generations, and of course the ones about their bloodline. When Royal families started dying off, others would keep their books safe. There’s not many Royals left and my dad said your parents loved to read them, so it makes sense they’d have such a big collection.”

                    Leaning against the bookshelf next to Ash, I look around in awe of everything down here. I didn’t know what to expect, but out of all the things going through my mind, this definitely wasn’t one.

                    “I’m gonna go check out what’s on the tables, let me know if you find anything interesting.”

                    “Ditto,” he chuckles, closing a book and putting it back before grabbing another. “Is there anything specific you want me to look for?”

                    “I don’t know, I guess like, family history and information about True Royals.”

                    When I get to the table on the right, all the different objects look so interesting. Picking up the book that lays in the center underneath everything, I open it and find essentially a catalog of everything that’s laid out.

                                                                Bailey, I’ve compiled this for you.

                        In the back of this journal there’s a letter from my mother, your grandmother.

                    These items have been passed down in our family for many generations. Although I had     access to some magic, I wasn’t very powerful. But when I got pregnant with you, I had a vision of how      powerful you’d be, so we gathered everything to pass down to you and stored it here in case anything                                    should happen to us before you were old enough to learn about your family.

    The silver bowl etched with symbols is a scrying bowl. If your visions aren’t strong enough or you’re           looking for answers that haven’t been given yet, scrying will help interpret the answers you seek.

    To the right is the skull of Morgana Gwenevere Delvaux, the first Queen of the Royal Witch Court, our          ancestor. Her skull has been covered in markings and symbols to enhance the power it holds. When Queen Morgana died, her power – her essence – was imbibed in her skull. She wanted to pass the power        on to her heir. With each person it has passed on to, when they’ve crossed over into the Otherworld,    their essence was absorbed into the skull as well. This skull is one of the most powerful artifacts in this                                                                          world, be very careful with it.

     Magic is very serious, you can do great things to help people and make the world a better place, but                                      you can also cause so much chaos and destruction, even by accident.

                   Because it’s so powerful, until you’ve absolutely mastered every element of your magic,                                                                                    do not use it. Do not touch it.

                    I love you so much, my dear girl. I know you will do great things and become very powerful,                  and I know you would never forgive yourself for hurting someone innocent or causing devastation,                                    please be careful. I am so sorry I was not able to teach you this myself.

                    As I close the book, my eyes burn, I can feel the emotions bubbling up. Shutting my eyes, I focus on my breathing and calming myself down. After a few moments, I place the book back on the table and look at the remaining items I hadn’t read about. What looks like a journal with my grandmother’s name on it, a beautiful knife and some… jewelry?

                    Letting out a deep breath, I feel something touch my shoulder and nearly jump out of my skin.

                    “Sorry about that,” he chuckles, “I found some interesting stuff in a few books I placed on the desk. Did you find anything?”

                    “Yeah,” pausing for a moment, everything I’d read flashes through my head and I get overwhelmed all over again. Clenching my fists together, my nails dig into my palm, helping focus myself. Pain is a powerful tool.

                    “yeah, I did.” I mumble, trying to turn away from him. Before I could, his fingertips graze my arm causing a shiver. Caressing the top of my hand with his thumb, he gently turns it over, opening my fist. That’s when I notice blood, I tensed my fist so much my fingernails punctured my palm, I didn’t even feel it leaking through and staining my fingers.

                    “You really shouldn’t do this,” gently wiping the blood away with his shirt, pressing it onto my palm to stop the little blood that’s still trickling out. “if something is bothering you, you can always talk to me.” Gently bumping his elbow into my arm, he’s smiling but I can see the worry behind his eyes.

                    “It’s just… a lot. All of it. There’s so much I didn’t know, so much I still don’t know. My grandmother was a witch, my mother was a hybrid, and what am I?” sighing, instinctively leaning my head on his chest and he wraps his arms around me.

                    “when my mother was pregnant with me, she had a vision that I’d be strong, really powerful. I – I’m… scared. Of what I could do.. of who I am.”

                    “It’s okay,” rubbing circles around my back, he tries so hard to soothe me, and even though it fills my heart, this anxiety doesn’t leave. “why don’t we grab what we found so far and go back home, we can always come back another time for more. Whenever you want, I’ll bring you.”

                    Nodding against his chest, I let out a deep breath, wrapping my arms around his waist.

                    After a few more moments against his chest, I pull back and we pack up what we’ve found – minus the skull. When we get back up the stairs, I open the entrance and notice there’s a sort of ladder against the wall leading out. Trudging back, we finally get to the car and load everything before pulling away.

                  And just like that, I’m leaving again.

                 But this time is different. I can come back whenever I want.