The Beginning Ch. 03-07

Chapter 3- Tunes

5:30 p.m.

19^th November, 2012

Home (#34 Ray Drive, 52^nd and 4^th, New York)

"How funny," Mr. Ray commented, as we pulled up outside my house, "you live on 'Ray Drive'. I'm sure there's a joke in there somewhere!"

I laughed weakly as I got out of his car, Mathias and Randal right behind me. Mom opened the door as we walked up the driveway, running to me and cupping my face, trying to spot any injuries.

"Are you okay?" she asked, brushing my hair off my forehead, "They didn't hurt you, did they?"

"Relax, mom," I replied, slightly embarrassed, "I'm perfectly fine. There's no need to treat me like a baby in front of everybody."

"In that case," she said, grabbing my ear, "what in the holy heck were you thinking?!"

"Ow!" I yelled, as she twisted my ear, "What's that for?"

"Easy, Lia," Mr. Ray said, placing a hand on her arm, "it isn't his fault. Let him go."

"Ronald" mom said, turning to him and letting go of my ear, "I'd forgotten that you were coming. How have you been?"

"As well as could be expected." Mr. Ray said, smiling like they were old friends.

"And Atkina?" she asked, turning around to lead us into the house.

"She's on a sojourn right now." he replied, "Looking for more Knowledge. She says that she might be close to unravelling it."

"Really?" dad asked, walking in from the study, "That would be quite a find indeed."

"Michael!" Mr. Ray said, clasping dad in a bear hug, "It is good to see you, my friend."

"Wait a second," I said, confused, "you guys know each other?"

"Well of course!" Mr. Ray said, "Your dad and I go way back, to his days at the Academy."

"The Academy in India?" I asked, which was where dad did all his schooling, though he never bothered to tell me the name of the place, "So, you're like childhood friends?"

"In a manner of speaking," Mr. Ray replied, "yes."

"If so," I said, "how come I haven't seen you around the house? And, how did I not know?"

"That's a long story, Chris." Mr. Ray said, "One-"

"One," mom interrupted, glaring at him, "that we will tell you some other time. I was under the impression that you were here to tell us about a fight Chris got into with some boy?"

"Ah, yes." Mr. Ray said, as we walked into the sitting room, mom and dad settling on a three-seater sofa, while he sat down on the single sofa opposite them. Randal and Mathias stood behind him, and I stood behind mom and dad , "The fight where Chris single-handedly beat eight boys who were twice as big as he is, and have been trained to do nothing but take down an opponent and avoid being taken down at the same time— while they were ganging up on him, I might add."

"No," dad said, his face suddenly drained of blood, clasping mom's hand in a vice grip, as her face turned much the same, "You can't be serious!"

"He is," Randal said, "We saw it too. We'd have stepped in, but-"

"-but by the time we could move," Mathias continued, "he had ended it."

There was a weighty pause, as mom and dad considered everything Mr. Ray had told them.

"Chris, honey," mom said, as she and dad turned to me, "would you mind telling us your version of what happened?"

"I don't really know," I said, rubbing my neck, "One moment Sean was tackling me to the ground, and the next it's like there's someone else in control of my body, someone else moving me to do all sorts of crazy things. It was like I was a mere observer in my own body, unable to do anything but watch as I fought off eight of the biggest guys I know, without getting so much as a scratch. I didn't even realize what was happening till it was over, and even then, I remember it only as a hazy memory. I don't know how to explain it."

"Well," Mathias said, "nearly without a scratch. You forgot your palms being scraped, when Sean leaped on you."

"Oh yeah," I murmured, showing mom and dad my palms, "This is the only 'damage' per se that I took."

"What damage?" dad asked, studying me closely, "Your palms are perfectly fine."

"No, they aren't," I said, turning them around, "They were scratched and-"

I stared at my palms, amazed. They were healed completely, not even a shred of skin out of place, all evidence of any wound wiped out.

"I don't understand," I murmured, "I saw the scrapes on my palms. Heck, Mathias and Randal saw it too! So did Mr. Ray!"

"We did," Mr. Ray said, forming a tent with his fingers in front of him, "and yet, your hands are fully healed now."

"That doesn't make any sense," I said, "How is this possible?"

Mr. Ray was about to say something, but mom beat him to it.

"Chris," mom said, a strangely panicked tone coloring her voice, "I put the kettle on before all of you arrived. Could you go check if the water is hot enough yet, and if it is, could you make us all a cup of coffee?"

"Yeah, sure," I said, "But-"

"Now, Chris," mom said, her tone changing to one I knew all too well. Arguing with that tone would be a very bad idea indeed.

Dejected and decidedly confused, I shuffled to the kitchen and waited for the kettle to whistle, before making six cups of coffee. All the while, I could hear the others whispering intensely in the living room, but try as I might, I couldn't hear what they were saying. Placing all the cups on a tray, I slowly walked back into the room.

"You should have seen him, Michael," Mr. Ray was saying, "he moved just like you used to! And the way he solved those equations earlier in class, speaks of a higher than normal intelligence, just like yours, Lia. It's happening, and he needs to know. Now."

"It isn't possible, Ronald!" dad replied, "For an Imprint to form this late-"

"It is unheard of, yes." Mr. Ray agreed, "Even I have never come across a case like this. But then, there has never been a case like this before. Two Wie-"

"Shush!" mom said, as she heard the cups clinking, "He's here."

"I still think we should tell him," Mr. Ray said, as I rounded the corner, "he's ready."

"Ready for what?" I asked, as I walked into the room and set the tray down on the coffee table in the center.

The tension in the air was palpable, and I felt my body reacting unconsciously, all my muscles tensing up as if preparing for a fight. There was something going on here, something much bigger than the fight earlier, miraculous as my performance might have been.

"Ready," dad said, shooting Mr. Ray a dangerous look, as he picked up a mug of coffee for himself and mom, "to join Mr. Ray's advanced Calculus class! He was just telling us about how you turned today's Math class upside down. You never told us that you were a genius."

"Probably because I didn't know," I murmured, as I grabbed the last mug on the tray, Mr. Ray, Mathias, and Randal having taken theirs.

"How would you, of course," mom said, "when you spend all your time playing those stupid computer games?"

"Mom!" I groaned, "We've had this conversation over and over and over again."

"I know," she said, with a twinkle in her eye, "It's just so much fun to see you trying to defend those mindless animations."

With that, all the tension seemed to ease out of the room, and the conversation slowly moved to other matters. My mind, however, was still mulling over what I'd heard and what had happened, but I just couldn't make any sense of it at all. I knew for a fact that there was more to the entire story, something that mom and dad weren't telling me, even though Mr. Ray thought that they should. Something, it would seem, that Randal and Mathias knew about too.

Getting mom and dad to talk would be a feat worthy of the Gods, if they even existed, so I decided to try and pry it out of my two "best" friends. I didn't really get a chance that night, as Mr. Ray agreed to stay for dinner, while both of them had to head on home. Over the course of the evening, however, I came to know Mr. Ray less as the scary Principal, and more as a warm, loving person, with a great sense of humor. Try as I might, though, I couldn't get him to tell me a single thing about his childhood with dad, or about how they ended up in India in the first place, or indeed where they stayed and studied. Every time I brought it up, he brushed it aside, saying that it wasn't his story to tell. I couldn't even get him to talk about whoever "Atkina" was, except to learn that she was his "Companion" whatever that meant, and that I would "understand with time". I would probably have had more luck in getting a stone to talk.

After he left, I tried to get mom and dad to talk about it multiple times, but they shot me down over and over again. Finally, I gave up, and decided to call it a night.

"It won't be long, now," a voice said in my head, right as I was about to fall asleep, "The winds of change stand ready to blow. The future shall try you more than it rightly should, but such is the path to greatness: fraught ever with misery and sorrow. But through it all you shall rise, to save us all. The prophesized will occur, as is the will of The Eight. But for now, o' hero, rest. Rest in blissful ignorance, for your first trial is closer than it seems."

*****

When I woke up the next morning, I felt like there was something I should remember— something important. Like trying to remember a favored dream, however, my mind drew a complete blank. Shrugging it off, I went through with my daily routine, but found myself whistling a rather strange tune.

"Is that a new song?" mom asked, as she set the table for breakfast, before sitting down herself, "It sounds like something I've heard before."

"I don't really know," I replied, "Dad have an early meeting again?"

"Business trip," mom replied, "A rather sudden one, over in India. He'll be back in a few days."

"Alright then," I said, dropping my plate in the sink and washing my hands, "I'm off!"

"Okay!" mom replied, "Have fun!"

Randal and I met up at Mathias' place, just like we did every Tuesday. From there, we walked to school, and split up to go to our respective classes. Everywhere I went, people stared at me and whispered speculatively, no doubt talking about the guy who "took down the football team". I must admit that I was rather surprised the internet wasn't flooded with videos of the fight. People hardly passed up an opportunity to post stuff like that.

Other than the looks and whispers, however, the rest of the school day went along smoothly. I tried to get Randal and Mathias to tell me everything, but they remained tight-lipped on the matter, probably to avoid pissing off my mom!

*****

That night, as I slept, I dreamt that I was in an old cave, deep in a mountain. I could hear the steady drip-drop of water off in the distance, and the air smelled stale. There was no way any light could have crept into the cave, but it was bright as day to my eyes. I watched silently, as a young woman sat at a table, humming to herself as she wrote something on a scroll. From where I stood, I could see that she was slender and very beautiful, with long black hair cascading down her back. As I got closer, I heard the tune clearly, and realized that it was what I had been whistling all day.

"I know that you're there," she said suddenly, making me jump, "I may not be able to see you anymore, my love, but I would know the feel of your aura anywhere."

A million questions raced through my mind, but I was suddenly wracked with the sensation of running out of time.

"Why are you in here?" I asked, deciding to get the trickier ones out of the way first, before my time there ran out.

"To save you, my love," she replied, setting her quill down and placing her hands on her lap, "You know that this was the only way. I had to give the Fates my sight."

She turned around, then, and I saw that she had no eyes. Rather than empty sockets like one would imagine, the skin of her forehead ran unbroken all the way down to her nose. No eyebrows, no eye sockets, and no eyes.

"You are surprised," she said, sounding surprised herself, "Why would it be so? Were you not there by my side, holding my hand as I ascended to the ranks of the Oracles? Is that not how you knew where to find me, since it was you who brought me here upon my behest?"

I stood there silently, mouth agape as I tried to process everything she was saying.

"Ah, yes," she said, smiling softly, "I understand now. You are the one who is yet to come, but who never will. A reflection of what is, but what never will be. An image of the truth made stronger by the lies. I see you, The Second."

"The what?" I asked, finally regaining the ability to speak, my mind still racing to comprehend what she was going on about.

"Never you mind all that, Hero," she said, smiling, "for you have enough strife as it is. I know that there is much you do not yet understand and much that you wish to ask. For now, just remember these lines, as they shall guide you along the path to your destiny."

"Lines?" I asked, "What lines?"

She began singing then, in the tune that had been haunting me all day. The words she sang seemed to write themselves in the air before us, red as fresh blood.

"The Golden Age shall come again

And good will finally rise, when

There comes one with a claim to a legacy

Older than even the Great Three."

Just then, there was a commotion, and she stopped singing, head tilted to a side.

"He who is you, yet not you approaches," she said, "and you who is he, yet not he cannot stay any longer. Though there is still much to tell, you must be gone now, lest you fray the fabric of all by tainting what is with the touch of what will be. Come find me again, Second, and perhaps the Fates shall be so kind as to let us finish our conversation. Now, begone!"

*****

And just like that, I was back in my room, sitting up in bed, gasping for air.

"Okay," I murmured, "no more weird anime before bed!"

I lay down and tried to go back to sleep. My mind, however, kept returning to the woman with no eyes, and everything that she had said. Though I knew that she was nothing but a fiction of my imagination, a phantasm my mind had created to play behind my eyelids as I slept, I couldn't shake off the feeling that there was more to it than I realized.

And I still couldn't get that blasted tune out of my head.

Chapter 4- A Guest

26^th November, 2012

5:30 p.m.

Home (#34 Ray Drive, 52^nd and 4^th, New York)

"Mom!" I called, as I walked into the house, "I'm home!"

"Hey, champ!" dad replied, sticking his head out of the sitting room, "How was your day?"

"Pretty swell!" I replied, slipping my shoes off, "How was your trip?"

"Good," dad replied, rather cryptically, "get in here. There's someone I want you to meet."

"Huh?" I asked, as I walked into the sitting room, "Who?"

I stopped, stunned, as I came face-to-face with one of the most beautiful girls I had ever seen. She was obviously Indian, with smooth, brown skin, and wore her long hair in a braid all the way down her back. She also had eyes that were the deepest shade of brown that I had ever seen, flecked with specks of golden. She was dressed in a black t-shirt and a pair of blue jeans, and I couldn't help but check her out and note that she was rather curvy. She shot me a dazzling smile as she saw me looking at her, and I just stood there, staring, enraptured.

"Chris," dad said, clapping me on the shoulder and breaking me out of my trance, "this is Vaishnavi. Vaishnavi, this is my son Chris."

"It's a pleasure to meet you," she said in a melodious, heavily accented voice, reaching out to shake my hand.

I clasped her hand, and surprised myself and everyone around, by dropping to a knee and kissing the back of it, rather than shaking.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Vaishnavi," I said, gazing into her eyes as she clapped her left hand over her mouth and laughed.

I decided that I quite liked that laugh, and that I would try to get her to laugh as much as possible.

"Okay, Romeo," mom said, walking in from the kitchen on her way to the dining room, arms laden with food, "that's quite enough chivalry for today. We don't want to scare our guest away, do we? After all, she is here to spend the next eight months with us."

"Wait, what?!" I stuttered, standing up, "Eight months?!"

"Yup," dad replied, clearly amused.

"And she'll be staying here?" I asked, "With us?"

"Yes, she will," mom said, smiling knowingly, "I've already cleared out the spare room next to yours and set her up in there. She'll also be joining you at school for what's left of the year. I've already spoken to Ronald, and it's all taken care of."

"Of course," I said flippantly, trying to mask the fact that I was suddenly really conscious of the fact that I'd just gotten down on one knee in front of a girl I'd just met— who would also be staying in the room next to mine, "Why wouldn't he, with you guys being best buds and keeping secrets and all."

At that, dad shot me a look that told me that I was dangerously close to crossing a line I really didn't want to, so I shut up, and unconsciously started checking Vaishnavi out a little more. I noticed that though she curvy, she was quite athletic too. Not bulky, but streamlined, like a swimmer, and she moved with an almost feline grace that was alluring to watch. She made me feel bulky and awkwardly clumsy in comparison, and I cursed myself for not working out or getting in shape. Not that I was fat or anything. In fact, like Coach had pointed out three days ago, I was rather scrawny.

"Hey," She said, turning to look at me over her shoulder as she walked after dad, "you done ogling me, or would you like me to give you a little twirl for good measure?"

"Gah!" I exclaimed, dropping my gaze to stare at my feet, my face turning red in embarrassment, "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to stare!"

She just laughed again, and walked into the dining room, leaving me all alone in the living room.

"I really like that laugh," I mumbled to myself, before sighing and walking in after her.

The next eight months were going to be long.

*****

We went out for dinner that night, and I learned that Vaishnavi was the daughter of one of dad's oldest friends. Her own father had passed away rather suddenly when she was just a baby, and her mother had been bringing her up ever since. Dad's business trip had taken him to the city where he had grown up (he still wouldn't tell me where that was, which led me to the conclusion that it was connected to whatever secret was being kept from me), and while there, he had met Vaishnavi and her mother, and learned that she had always wanted to see America. Being the man that he is, he instantly offered to let her stay with us for as long as she liked, and even to make arrangements for her to finish the rest of her academic year here.

How he managed to wing all that in the short time he had there— and get her a visa to boot— I will never understand, but he did. And since Vaishnavi was the same age as I was— indeed, she was born exactly nine days after me— and in relatively the same grade according to the Indian education system, she would be joining all my classes.

"Hey," I said, as we dug into our respective pastas at the Italian joint near the house, noticing the ring she had on her right ring-finger for the first time, "mind if I see your ring?"

"Not at all," she replied, placing her fork down, and holding her hand out to me, "though I would have thought that you'd have noticed it earlier, when you kissed my hand."