Rose Awaken
Rose Awaken
A Short Story
Element of Air Part I
Copyright 2011 Eve A. James
Thank you for your support.
To Tom. Thank you for…everything.
Table of Content
Chapter 1-Unknown
Chapter 2-A Story of a Girl with an Eagle Mark
Chapter 3-Little Pieces of Me
Chapter 4-Awakening
About Author
Endnotes
***
Chapter 1 Unknown
Who am I? The question burned deep within my mind, and it all started with me waking up in the middle of the night on a boat. Shivering from the cool night air that seems to penetrate all the way to my bones I try to think. My name is… well I don’t know what my name is, but somehow that does not seem to matter, or scare me. Moving past what I don’t know, I am concentrating on what I do know, when a strong feeling everything will be alright comes over me.
“You are awake,” an unfamiliar, heavily accented voice penetrates the gray fog surrounding me. Blinking rapidly, I am trying to find its source. A shape of a man sitting on the ground comes into focus. The fog moves away from him and I can see him clearly. His top hat is pulled low and a cascade of dreadlocks in every shade of brown, rain over his shoulders. His mouth is too full to be sexy, his nose too wide to be beautiful, his eyes too large for his angular face, and yet when he speaks and I see his face come to life, I can’t help but to think of him as handsome. With a skin color of deep chocolate brown he looks exotic and I’m suddenly feeling I can trust him, and he puts me at ease.
“My name is Sebastian; you need not to be frightened. I will not hurt ya.” He says with a wide smile, exposing a row of perfect white teeth, and I believe him. I can clearly hear the sound of the sea, the soft lapping of waves crashing against the side of the ship I found myself on.
Feeling the boat rock from side to side I look past my new friend, and take in the cargo ship we are on. The quiet of the night just before morning is unsettling and the thick fog is making me uneasy. Sebastian gets up, moves closer to me, and hands me a roll of dark bread and an apple. With a nod he encourages me to eat.
The rumble in my stomach reminds me that I am hungry. Extending my hand, I gratefully accept his gifts noticing the stark contrast not only of my white flesh against his rich dark one but the size of my small child-like hand to his large masculine one.
“Thank you,” I manage a whisper. Sebastian nods. Taking a bite from an apple first, I savor its sweet taste, wiping the juice running down my chin and smiling shyly in thanks. The apple smells so good that I take another bite. Instantly I am reminded of warm sunny day when I lie in tall, lush green grass and look up at an apple tree. The sun is peaking through the green leaves, warming my face. I start to count beautiful round red apples ready to be picked, so ripe I can’t help myself but to reach for one of them. The early fall warm wind brushes my skin lightly warming me. I take a deep breath and scents of wild flowers and rich earth engulf me and make me feel safe. The knowledge I’m home calms me.
A loud noise startles me, and yanking me away from the orchard, it brings me back to the cold and damp ship. I hear it again, a bang of something hitting the side of a metal container. I feel the light tremble of the force that reverberates and is carried throughout the space all around me, breaking the dead silence of the night. Scared now, I look from Sebastian to a fog covered space surrounding me. Not being able to penetrate the thick mist, I panic and am sure that not only Sebastian, but the intruder can hear the frantic beating of my heart.
“You got nothing to worry about. They will not find us.” Sebastian says, in a soothing tone. “What was the place you just went off to?” he asks with curiosity and not having any idea how he knew about it, I don’t answer, instead I look at him more carefully.
From his comment I know he is very observant, but there is something else about him. An aura of magic I can clearly see shimmering in the air all around him. He appears to be in his mid twenties, although I might be mistaken, I have not seen many people of color in my life. Taking another bite of the delicious apple I look down from the sharp angles of his face to his neck and my eyes rest on the tooth and bone necklace. I feel an ache, as if my skin was being pulled tight. Already on edge, I lift my shirt in alarm and see a beautiful eagle. It must be a tattoo, I think until the bird looks at me cocking his head to one side. Stifling a scream I drop my shirt and cover the strange bird, pretending it doesn’t exist. My hands are shaking slightly and my heart is thudding loudly when I feel the cold sweat covering my body. It makes me shiver.
My eyes meet Sebastian’s but he doesn’t seem to notice my reaction or is he at all surprised at the strange tattoo. It only can be possible if he didn’t see it. Relieved that I can hide it from him, I work hard on steadying my breath and once again I take a closer look at him. He is wearing a white shirt and a black long wool coat. His pants are leather and I can see he had them for a long time, the signs of wear visible all around. My eyes rest on his tall, black boots with nickel buckles on each side. I like those boots. My gaze moves up and there is the black top hat so out of place it makes me wonder who he really is.
I decide that he looks like someone you don’t want to mess with. When he stands up again and stretches his arms yawning loudly, I realize just how tall he is. He nods to me, as if understanding that I need privacy. Standing up now, I walk pass him, needing a moment alone. I want to investigate the Eagle mark. I look up as he towers over me and realize he must be at least six feet tall. He doesn’t seem to notice my penetrating gaze, or just isn’t bothered by it and he smiles at me warmly.
“I--“
“Go ahead. I’ll be here when you come back.” He says, as if he is reading my need to go and the uncertainty in my eyes.
***
Chapter 2. A Story of a Girl with an Eagle Mark
He, the man I now know as Sebastian, points his finger to the narrow passage between containers he must use as a way out. Nodding Rose walks slowly away from him, leaving him alone. Sebastian takes a deep breath. He had finally found her, and she is so much more than he ever hoped. He looks down and lifting his shirt his eyes rest on marks. He moves his fingers and traces the outline of the four element symbols.
Sebastian’s eyes grow wide as the fire symbol shimmers in red, the water lights up in the most intriguing shades of green from pale seafoam to the deepest of the emerald and midnight blue. He is waiting for the air symbol. Now that he found Rose it should come to life at any moment. He smiles a wide smile of satisfaction as the symbol of air starts to glow and comes to life in a form of a silver tornado hovering inches from Sebastian’s branded skin.
Sebastian frowns, deep lines etching his perfectly smooth forehead as he traces the earth sign. It is just as flat and lifeless as it had been. It doesn’t respond to the Guardians touch. His eyes fill with disappointment. Not even the longing in his gaze, can awake the last element. Sebastian yanks the sleeve of his shirt and coat down. He sighs looking up into the dark, unfamiliar sky.
Why isn’t the element of earth awake?
#
Rose
I walk away from Sebastian. My fingers are lightly touching the container wall. I notice the rough paint surface, as I stroll down the narrow path, careful not to make any noise.
I step out of the passage and look beyond the dark space, just to see row upon row of multicolored containers, some covered with rust. I just stand there noticing the world around me.
Instead, I observe the fog that rolls by slowly, giving the boat a mystical quality. I think of Avalon and wonder if the story is real. Taking dee
p breaths, I try to relax and taste the salt in the air, I enjoy the flavor. I feel the sun rising, before I see its pale light over the horizon. Looking down on my grimy hands, I wish I could have a basin to wash in, when I spot little puddle of water just to the side. Getting on one knee, I reach for it and see my own reflection in the perfectly smooth surface.
A face of a child comes to view, my face. I can’t be older than eight. I see the dark tangled hair that frames my once small, round face. The hollows under the cheek bones tell me I have been hungry for many days. I notice my small nose that is slightly turned up, when my gaze falls upon my lips. They are cracked and hurt as I touch them, gingerly, running my finger over its full, perfect shape. Moving down to my neck I find a leather cord and take out a small crystal. It is a quartz crystal used for protection.
Running my hand over the rough surface I remember it from before, not on my neck, but on the wooden table of a merchant. It was spring and the air was filled with scent of first grass and clean rain. I was running through a crowded street full of vendors. Spotting this trinket, I stopped. Intrigued, I picked it up and enjoyed the sun bouncing off its uneven surface, not knowing about its mystical qualities. The merchant spoke to me laughing, and I knew and understood his native tongue and smiled back. It is not the same language Sebastian and I communicate in. My smile disappeared as a shadow of a man passed, eclipsing the sun.
My heart is beating fast now. I look down and am back on the ship. My gaze falls once again on the flat surface of a water puddle that seems more like a mirror. Staring back at me is a girl I no longer recognize. The face looking back at me is older, a teenager perhaps. With a shaky hand, I reach to touch her, when she smiles.
I can see the familiar shape of my own nose, the main of brown hair I am used to running my hands through and realize it is me I’m looking at. I stop trembling and meet her, my gaze, drawing comfort from the familiar, dark blue of the eyes staring back at me.
I blink and see myself as I am now, a child. My body is thin, but I feel strong. My hips are narrow and I can see with clarity that the dark jeans I am wearing were not meant for me. They are far too large and even that the belt is pulled as tight as it can, they still hang low. The soft leather shoes however are my size; even though they are worn, I can feel how comfortable they are. All of it a stark contrast to an image I just saw in the water, of me as a teenager.
I feel the sting behind both eyes and blinking rapidly get up. I will not cry, I tell myself and taking few deep breaths try to calm the shaking inside me and then I remember the reason I came here, the Eagle. My throat goes dry immediately as I reach with quivering hands toward my shirt. My fingers shake so bad, I have to take few deep breaths before they grasp the edge of my top. Squeezing my eyes shut I send a little prayer to the universe hoping I was wrong. I lift my shirt and the t-shirt under it up and quickly open my eyes.
In disbelief I look from one protruding hip bone to the other, seeing no tattoo. The Eagle is gone. I breathe a sigh of relief, and then I feel warm tingling just on the inside of my forearm. Yanking my sleeve up, I see in horror, the same eagle, now with wings stretched wide staring back at me. His eyes warm and friendly watch me as if he can see what is hidden deep in my soul. The blood curdling scream escapes my mouth, and I feel Sebastian’s hand clamp over them causing me to wince in pain.
“You need to be quiet, there are others here,” he says, in paranoid tone, looking all around.
“We are not safe?” he shakes his head no.
***
Chapter 3. Little Pieces of Me
Startled by his words I stare at him in awe. He motions for me to follow and I do without another word. I am aware of the Eagle now, and he is moving. I feel peace and calm come over me, as it settles on my heart. All off a sudden, the knowledge that this eagle is part of me, and it will protect me from any harm comes to me. As little snapshots of unfamiliar places rush into my head, I realize they must be fragments of my memories. I watch them as if they were a movie. They feel like someone else’s memories, not my own.
The fog retreats as the morning sun lights up the world around me, but it doesn’t take away the chill from the air. I sit down, pulling my legs toward my chest and hug myself trying to stop the shaking.
When I am ready to accept whatever comes my way, I look at Sebastian, who studies me intently.
“Who am I?” I croak out, with what I hope is a pleading look in my eyes.
“I do not know. We just met. From the first moment I saw you I could tell you needed someone to watch over you. I knew that someone had to be me.” He says, with such sincerity it makes me wonder, how it feels to believe in something with such a conviction. I watch the aura of magic surrounding him and it becomes brighter with his recollection.
“Knew how?” I ask hoping to find out more, hoping he can give me some clues to who I am, or maybe to who he is.
“Well, you were running through the docks, looking back as if you were trying to make sure you were not followed. In one long jump, which by the way was impossible, you landed on the edge of this ship. Disappearing between the containers just to pop up higher and higher, you intrigued me. At that moment I knew, my job was to get you safe to wherever you needed to go. Besides, it was time for me to move on. I’ve learned all I needed there.”
“What port was that? Where did I board this boat?” I ask feeling the anticipation of the first clue, the first true thing about my existence.
“Varna, Bulgaria; we boarded this boat in Varna.” His voice is calm. I watch Sebastian taking out a jar of yellow sap. I nod and realize this is it, I know something about myself, and yet even though I anticipated the drum roll and the fireworks. It did not come. I feel Sebastian’s gaze and he must see the disappointment in my eyes because he continues his tale.
“Rose, you have this aura about you, and I am very good at noticing them.”
“Aura?”
“Yes my child, like me you were born with magic running through your veins. It makes your aura glow bright in this dim world.”
“Who are you?” My question doesn’t surprise Sebastian. There is a mysterious smile tugging at the side of his lips.
“I was born in Haiti, and moved from place to place with my mom. I lived in more than twenty cities all over Europe before I turned sixteen years old. My mom was a nanny to a very affluent Englishman. She was loved and respected. I was tolerated. By the time the children turned to teenagers she had a permanent place in their home as a head of the maid staff.” He stopped talking, and his eyes took on that glassy quality, when you go far away.
“But not you?”
“Yes and no. Yes, I had a place by her side, and no I didn’t want to stay. I had this urge to see the world so I left day after his sixteenth birthday, which was six years ago. I never looked back.”
“Don’t your miss her?”
His laughter booms around me. His eyes meet mine. “She is always with me. I have been practicing her religion ever since I can remember. With every prayer, every sacrifice I’m closer to her. I am a practicing voodoo priest.”
“I’m glad you keep her close.” I don’t know much about voodoo, assuming it is an old and powerful religion, I just nod. “I wish I could keep my mom close…”
Handing me the jar, he motions for me to apply the balm to my cracked lips and as soon as the thick sap touches them, I feel instant relief. I smile in gratitude and taste a sweetness of honey in the medicine. The honey reminds me of home once more, but the memories are too fuzzy to come into focus.
I catch the roll of bread he throws in my direction with ease and continue listening to his encounter of the years he spent in Bulgaria, Romania, Greece, and Italy. I am surprised when he tells me the cargo ship we are currently on is heading for Spain. It will be his first time in Spain, as for me, I can’t be sure.
He never probes into my memories; instead he c
oncentrates on entertaining me with his stories making me feel safe. I am hoping I can stay with him, when we reach land. I want to ask him about it, but feel unsure of myself. How could I ask someone I barely know to sacrifice their freedom for me? What adult would like to take a child under their wing? His soft tone penetrates my thoughts.
“You may not know who you are, but from my experience everyone’s life is a journey. There is a beginning, middle and the end. Fate has a strange way of sneaking up on us, and we often find ourselves right where we need to be. You might feel lost, it doesn’t mean you are. Sometimes we need to place our trust in the universe, and know even after the most terrifying storm, there is a calm that follows. Let your journey begin.” Sebastian says, and turns around, not really expecting me to comment.
Finishing the last of my second apple, I watch him unroll a black cloth with crude white symbols painted on it. He takes off his coat and shirt. Now that he is bare-chested, I could see how thin he is and I couldn’t ignore the long scars angrily cutting across his back.
#
Sebastian
Rose was concentrating on my scars. The little girl is very observant. She is so taken by the angry lines on my back, she never sees the tattoo of the four elements on my forearm.
Sebastian can see the questions on her lovely face. He knows she is wondering what happened to him, but she doesn’t voice the question. Sebastian sees her aura change from silver to darker and he knows she is having another of her visions. He knows he is in the center of this one. She is so strong, pulling the painful memories from his head. Her strength worries him, she is eight-years-old, she shouldn’t be able to do that. He is a Guardian, not some human. He closes his eyes and sees what Rose is seeing. His throat becomes dry as a vision of himself, young Sebastian comes to his mind. He is probably seventeen-years-old and he is hiding in a hay-filled barn. He knows Rose can clearly see how scared he is when the wooden doors slam open and a group of men storm inside. She watches as they find him and with hatred blazing from their eyes, their rough hands grab him and string him by his arms. The rope they use is rough and it cuts deep into his skin. Soon, it is stained red. With his feet barely touching the ground, Rose sees his face. It is etched with terror, as the leather whip connects with his flesh time and time again. Sebastian is unable to stop the vision, just like Rose who can’t turn back. She can’t ease my pain or comfort the young me.