ARACELIS
PROLOGUE
KAREN’S BEDROOM
Karen twisted and turned under the sheets, trying to find a comfortable position. Something in her dream nudged her awake; trust her brain to shut down when she reached the good parts. She opened one sleepy eye a crack, and was surprised when something floated across her vision.
What was that? She thought, wanting to stay invisible until she could at least figure out what was in her room.
Her sleepiness forgotten, Karen blinked. Drawing the sheets closer, she squinted at the movement floating closer. The creature hovered only a few feet away from her. She decided the small creature, for that was how she saw it, was only about nine inches tall. The tiny shape’s dark, flowing hair reached its hips. She pondered what she was witnessing. The shape now hovered over her bed, and Karen felt afraid for an instant, but curiosity captured her attention... It looks like a little plastic doll…but it is not: more like a-tiny woman! She concluded. A strange, buzzing whine, like that of an electrical appliance emanated from it.
I am awake! She assured herself and breathed softly. She did not want to disturb whatever was going on, and only one muscle moved—her eye, as she observed this hovering wonder…
Not a human like me! She thought. As the creature moved closer, Karen’s focus drifted to its forehead, what a strange headband. A black, fiery opal floated for a brief second; hints of red shooting light danced inside the charm. My lord, the charm thingy is alive with excitement!
The creature slowly opened its eyes. They appeared at ease, relaxed; it sensed no danger, taking on the appearance of a hypnotic being. The whites were not normal—in power-off mode it seemed, the colors remained stationary, containing very thin vertical lines of wonderment.
Karen did not realize, however, when a person was en-snared in this gaze, it was starting to power-up.
Karen, by accident, allowed an audible gasp to escape. The creature sensed her movement.
Within milliseconds, the colors increased their speed as they circled the pupils; a spinning-top effect starting slowly… in a power wave of fast moving excitement, hypnotic in fact—forcing a person to desire sleep and erase the memory of seeing—this creature.
Karen tried to think in her dreamy haze… and suddenly she knew what the pupils looked like. Karen flashed a quick smile of recognition as each color briefly lit up; all flashing quickly, blending, vibrating, with an electrical pulse that raced around the Tilde.
The need for sleep nearly overwhelmed Karen, as she stared with excitement. However, the creature did something odd. The affect lessened, it wanted her to see what it would do next.
The creature winked at Karen, its eyes dancing with mischief. A smile flashed brightly. The forehead charm became alive with exploding lights. It raised its eyebrows and tipped its head in a gentle manner.
Karen followed its gaze to where their dog, Red, slept. He was lying on the floor and his fur was long and straight. The creature’s eyes twinkled with mischief. Karen was stunned when it turned into a tiny light particle and passed over Red, turning his coat into a huge red afro! Karen let out a giggle…
Red awoke with a start, leapt to his feet, his dark eyes searching with a look of bewilderment. Giving his body a shake, he stretched slowly; his hair now curly with an electro-static charge—and seconds later, he settled back down.
Karen smiled brightly. She imagined what he was thinking.
I hate it when my hair gets poofed out! She thought excitedly.
She finally closed her eyes, and snuggled down into the comfortable sheets, as fantastic adventures filled her sleepy mind: Only a dream, she repeated to herself, only a dream…only… a…drea…
CHAPTER 1
Upon awakening, Karen was delighted that fragments of the dream still lingered in her mind.
Still groggy, she stumbled to the bathroom, performed the necessary rituals and moved to the mirror. Her reflection stared back. Karen ran her fingers through her shoulder-length, brown hair absentmindedly. Sometimes she wondered how her brain could conjure up such amazing images, and she smiled. She pinched some of the hair strands between two fingers, I should become a fantasy writer; they write about these types of things… she thought and the smile brightened. What a crazy dream last night! Some weird fairy thing called—whatever—gave Red a new hairdo! Man, that was sooo funny, and then buzzed off—with a promise of some crazy stories.
Karen shook her head, slowly. It was a dream, right—I hope! Nevertheless, it seemed sooo real. However, she noticed her eyes and how she loved them; a combination of Pacific blue and Irish emerald. When Pacific blue—she was calm and happy, but when emerald appeared, she was full of mischief and curiosity. She made a face of merriment, typical for an eleven- year-old, must be from the strange dream last night, she thought. Her eyes continued to seesaw back and forth between the two colors, which brought on a radiating smile, followed by laughter.
She reached for a brush—taking her away from the mirror for a few seconds. She had seen the creature so clearly, with its hip-length hair and strange pulsing eyes. When she returned, with brush in hand, she raised it, ready to make a stroke—she suddenly gasped—her eyes were glowing emerald green. Closing her eyelids tightly, her body shivered.
Reopening her eyes, another image and pair of eyes was staring back!
Karen dropped the brush; it was not her reflection anymore…in its place, the mysterious creature’s eyes gleamed back at her. She screamed!
In a panic, Karen grabbed the sink, knuckles turning white from the grip; she stared at the haunting image, and closed her eyes tightly… Do not pee! Do not pass out; br-breathh was all she could think. She tried to calm her frantic heartbeat and steady her nerves.
Ever so slowly, she counted to ten and opened her eyes a crack; her own image glared back once more.
She ran out of the bathroom, her heart pounding; through the bedroom, her breathing forgotten; down the hall and skidding to a stop in front of the closed library door, she yanked it open with force. It bounced back and slammed shut. She groaned, aw-w… come-on, really door as she slowly reopened it. Within seconds of entering the library, hum… where are the bloody papers? She slapped her head …in the desk silly, she hastily thought, and running toward it, she began her search.
Sweet! Papers and pencils just waiting—for little ol’ me, as she floated over to a comfortable chair in the sunlight.
The library smelled like a pine forest, the windows were all open to let in the cool breeze, and the fresh scents from the surrounding gardens drifted in. Indeed, the aromas invigorated her; fragments of the dream danced through her mind, and in seconds, chased the cobwebs out and clarity shone bright.
In time, she got comfortable—sinking slowly into the chair. A desire to grab a book and enjoy a good read, tried to over-ride her senses. She set the papers in her lap, gripped the pencil, and started to focus.
“Humm…Where to start? Karen stared into space, her left hand twirling her hair through her fingers. The other hand tapping the pencil eraser onto the paper—both synchronized with her heartbeat.
Okay…Concentrate…! Chose one, start writing—you could draw, YEA! Draw them, just stop wasting time!”
The chair molded to her body, caressing her, and she was comfortable. In her nine years of living in this house, she had spent many hours in this chair engrossed with numerous books. Windows of different shapes allowed the sunlight to filter in. Warm and secure, the sun’s rays enhanced the experience. A large fireplace warmed the library during the winter and spring months. Open windows, during summer and fall, created an ideal environment.
Her family had placed the books on tidy shelves with care, more specific, her Grandfather. He built the library and collected the books, a hodgepodge of different titles. Classics from so many masters sat upon the north-facing wall. Picture books for the children were on the south-facing shelves. Self-help, poetry, gardening, cooking, and outdoor references books lined the east-facing wall. On the west-facing wall were abstract writings from foreign writers.
‘In my dream,’ Karen wrote, ‘a being—No! A creature, floated upright on two tiny legs!’ She was puzzled while she re-read her passage. ‘The creature was not standing’—it hovered in front of me, she thought. ‘A sense of pure power emanated from this tiny creature. She was a woman!’ Karen was sure. ‘But, a black shroud—or cape—with red highlights, was hiding its figure. In addition, it matched the creature’s hair; which flowed over its body and the two merged into one. The creature’s eyes were very—strange.’
She drew the eyes, making tiny scratching marks with the pencil. As she progressed with the drawing, the sound of approaching footsteps distracted her.
She quickly hid the drawing as her grandfather shuffled into the library.
“Good Morning, Grandfather. How did you sleep?”
“Good morning, Karen. Where are you? Be a dear and help me to my chair.”
Karen walked to her Grandfather’s side, took his hand, and led him back to the chair.
He felt for it and with a groan, eased himself down.
“So my dear, what were you working on? I know you were not reading, because I cannot smell a book. I do, however, smell paper and pencil.” She gazed evenly at him, knowing he could only see shadows, or, at best, outlines of the people he was looking at. His hearing and sense of smell were keen after cataracts had robbed his sight.
“I had a dream last night, and I was trying to capture it on paper,” Karen began.
“So what was this dream?” As the old man held her hand, he shifted in the chair and patted the chair’s arm in invitation.
She sat down on the arm and tried to remember. “This creature woke me up, but now, the only things I can remember are the creature’s eyes and its long, black hair with red tints.”
Her Grandfather’s face changed. A slow grin radiated into a smile of acknowledgement, as he raised his hands and placed them around Karen for a deep, bear hug.
Karen accepted the hug and snuggled into his warmth.
She sensed a change in her Grandfather—a longing, as his breathing grew slow and deeper.
He adjusted his position in the chair and held her tighter.
Karen turned, and looking at his face, saw a passion that was not there before. A lone tear formed and slid from his blind eyes.
He let her go and wiped away the tear.
“What do you remember of this dream?”
Karen shifted and tried to concentrate on what she remembered.
“The eyes, they were, um… hypnotic. When I first saw her, she was floating above my bed, but those eyes held me. They were different from ours. I’ve never seen anything like them before!”
“When the eyes were gazing at you, making you sleepy, the voice was warm—soothing, in fact, and you wanted to go back to sleep, correct?”
“Yes Grandfather, that is close to what happened.”
So—my old friend has come back I knew she would…, he thought. “Were there any others that came to you?” He crossed his fingers and closed his eyes, thinking—please not Arc.
“There was only one,” Karen said as she searched his face. She nodded slowly, forgetting that he could not see the gesture. However, so he had seen the same creature, she thought, somewhat shocked.
“When did you…How could you know it, Grandfather?”
“Many, many years ago, before you were born, my sight had been slowly fading and she came to me. With what I could remember, I made a sculpture of her and her sisters in wood. Each sister visited me separately, giving me fantastic ideas that stuck, and I worked out some very—complex problems. Anyway, because my sight was going, their control over me was limited, but I knew—when all three visited me one night. In addition, they asked me,” thumping his chest with pride, “I was… thrilled…in fact, to create a sculpture for them—they choose me to create their history.”
“So—Grandfather… what happened to the sculpture?”
Grandfather shifted position and mumbled, “Don’t know—it just disappeared.”