Red Dawn Rising

Forever: Excerpt II

Sat, 28 Jul 2007 23:50:13 GMT

Author's Note:
This scene takes place at the end of Julian and Jessica's first date, about a week after the party (appearing in Excerpt I)

Julian and Jessica sat in front of the fire, getting to know one another better through a series of interesting conversations. Brian and Brittany had left hours ago, but the two of them were still going strong.

“Did I tell you I got a new car?” Julian suddenly mentioned.

“No.”

“Oh, must have slipped my mind.”

“A new car slips your mind?” She asked, clearly not believing him.

“Well, I didn’t really want it. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a great car. It’s just that I rather liked my old one.”

“What happened, did your other car break down or something?”

“Actually, my parents bought it for me. They hated my old ‘Vette with a passion and have been bitching at me for months to buy a Mercedes or a BMW or something. Finally they decided that if I wasn’t going to drive a luxury vehicle then by God I would at least drive a new one. So, they bought it and had it delivered the other day. They made it kind of hard to say no,” Julian would have gone on, but he didn’t want to spoil the evening by bringing his family life into it. “You, uh, you want to go for a ride?”

“Sure,” she agreed.

Twenty minutes later, Julian's brand new black Corvette pulled into the lot of an old park. Most of it was concealed by huge trees, which provided a very private and secluded area.

"So, where are we?" Jessica asked as he shut off the engine.

“Oh just a little spot I know,” Julian winked, opening the sunroof to let in the cool night air.

“It’s really beautiful out here,” she said, gazing across at the surrounding view. “Breathtaking, actually.” They sat quietly for a few moments before Jessica was compelled to speak again. “Julian, its obvious that you’d like to start seeing me. So, there’s something I feel I need to tell you.”

“Oh?” he asked, his interest peaked.

“I’m not really sure how to put this.”

“You’re married,” he offered, clearly teasing her.

“No,” she smiled, but then her face tightened, her expression growing hard and serious. “I…uh…I recently had a bad experience,” she began, her voice faltering. “And it…it caused some problems. Anyway, the point is, I like you.”

Relieved, Julian smiled back at her. “Thanks. I’m in like with you, too.”

Jessica ignored his joking and continued, “but if this is some sort of a one-night stand thing we can just put an end to it right here.”

“I was kind of hoping for more,” Julian heard himself tell her. He was surprised at his honesty, but felt no need to withdraw the statement.

“Well, more would be nice. But, uh, to be honest “more” takes time with me. Because of…before…I have to take things very slowly. And I do mean slowly, Julian. I’m not here to put undue pressure on you, but I want to make sure you understand – fully – what you’re getting into.”

Softly, Julian reached over and took her hand, looking deep into her eyes. She seemed so vulnerable all of a sudden. He was struck with an overwhelming urge to hold her, to protect her. He had never seen this side of Jessica before, and it drew him in even stronger than her looks first had. “You’re beautiful when you’re insecure,” he told her softly. “To think there’s a sweet young thing under all that armor.”

“I have a good reason for my armor,” her tone was cold, angry. Julian wondered just how badly she had been hurt. He wanted nothing more than to heal her.

“Well one of these days you’ll no longer need it with me,” pausing for a moment he took a moment to gaze into her lovely eyes. “I still want to see you, if that’s alright.”

“Yes,” she answered, almost a whisper. “Thank you for a lovely evening.”

Slowly Julian pulled his hand from hers. “You’re right, it’s late. I should probably get you home.” Reluctantly he started the ignition and put the car into gear, pulling away into the night.

He walked her to her door, and waited as she unlocked it, opening it just a crack before turning around to face him again. “Thanks again,” she told him. “I really did have a wonderful time.”

Julian stood there awkwardly, not sure how to proceed. “I’m glad,” he answered, “Well…goodnight.”

Suddenly she stepped towards him, wrapping her arms around him in a warm embrace. He pulled her body to him, his lips lingering against her neck as he inhaled her sweet perfume. She tentatively stepped back, her face towards his, looking up into his eyes. As she did so, her lips momentarily brushed against his. Julian could feel her breath against his own, mixing in with every breath he took. He held her gaze for a moment, reaching up to touch a strand of her dark hair. Then, slowly he leaned forward again until his lips met hers in a passionate embrace.

Releasing herself, Jessica slowly backed up towards the door. “Goodnight, Julian,” she said smiling, her eyes shone with a faraway glow.

“Goodnight,” he whispered.

Excerpt III: The Prophecy

Fri, 27 Jul 2007 22:35:02 GMT

Author's Note:
This posting is taken from three sections of the book, from Loriel's Point-of-View. They take place over three different periods of time.

Loriel found herself hurrying down the passageway between the Temple buildings towards the Courtyard. The night was mild and a soft breeze was blowing, pressing her dress tightly to her as she walked, her hair streaming gently behind her. The smell of incense permeated the walkway, a sensual blend of sandalwood, vanilla and jasmine. Romance was indeed in the air, Loriel laughed to herself as she emerged fully into the night.

The full moon shone brightly, illuminating the reflecting pool in its silvery light. The surrounding palm trees swayed gently in the breeze and the night crickets sang their peaceful song. Seth was seated on a white marble bench near the reflecting pool. A large Bird of Paradise bush served as backdrop, its thick green leaves and orange-yellow blossoms accenting the trees growing on either side. The courtyard had always served as a place of solitude and meditation for the Priesthood, as each section was conveniently segregated from the others by exotic varieties of plant life and well placed statues. This gave the worshiper the sense of isolation and privacy needed for effective meditations. It was for this reason, Loriel was convinced, that Seth chose to meet her here. For it would be unlikely that they would be interrupted or even discovered among its many pylons and inter-winding gardens.

He saw her approaching and rose to greet her, his smile as warm as his gaze. How handsome he looked beneath the light of the moon! Loriel had almost forgotten just how splendid his features truly were. Taking her hand in his, he brought it gently to his mouth, turning it so as to kiss the inside of her wrist. This caused a small current of electric shocks to run through her body and Loriel closed her eyes briefly, inhaling deeply as she did so. His hand lingered with hers for a moment longer than would be appropriate before finally letting go.

“Loriel,” he spoke quietly. “The years have been good to you. I had no idea my Little Princess was so grown up.”

“Perhaps if you had visited more often…” she began, but his touch on her arm startled her and she stopped mid-thought.

“Please, sit with me,” he motioned. Taking her by the elbow he guided her so that she was seated next to him upon the marble bench. He then placed his hand over hers, and turned to face her.

“I believe I have a confession to make,” he told her, his eyes holding hers. “I spoke with Magdalene Alana in order to request your presence at tonight’s dinner and was surprised to find that she had already extended your invitation. You always were my favorite among the young Priests. I suppose there is not much which the Magdalene does not notice.”

Blushing, Loriel looked away for a moment, allowing her gaze to fall upon the stars which now shone brightly down upon them. “I believe my feelings were rather obvious during your last visit,” she too confessed, still averting her eyes. “How did you ever put up with me?”

“I found you to be very sweet,” Seth told her. “I was flattered by your attention. If you had not been so young, perhaps I would have made more of it.”

“I am not so young anymore,” Loriel answered boldly, her gaze returning to meet his.

At this, Seth reached up to gently caress her cheek. “No, you are not,” he replied, his voice very sincere and most serious. This, of course, sent Loriel’s senses into a whirlwind and she backed away from him. Suddenly nervous, she stood, unsure of how to proceed next.

“I, uh…I should be going. It’s late and I have an early morning. Goodnight.” Quickly she began walking away and then just as quickly she stopped dead in her tracks. What was she doing? This behavior was ridiculous. Why was she suddenly so afraid of Seth? Gathering her courage, Loriel turned back around to face him. “I’m sorry,” she began. “Would you like to go for a walk?”

After grabbing her cloak, Loriel led Seth off the Temple Grounds. She wanted to take him up to her sacred spot so she could show him the valley below. She also had ulterior motives, as the view was not only breathtaking this late at night but also rather romantic. Not to mention the two would be alone with no chaperone and no one to disturb them. Loriel scolded herself as they walked along slowly, enjoying the night air. She was so confused. What was she thinking bringing him up here! It was only going to lead to one thing…and well, frankly, Loriel had been dreaming of doing so for the past two years. It was obvious that Seth was attracted to her. So why was she suddenly so afraid to take the risk? Loriel decided not to dwell on it for fear of ruining what may very well be a special night.

“So tell me, Loriel, what have you been doing with yourself these past few years?” He asked as they began walking up the faint dirt trail.

“Oh, you know, the usual,” she told him. “It’s one big thrill ride around here. What, with the praying and the studying and the helping of the poor…”

Laughing, Seth interrupted her. “I’m sorry. I guess things don’t change much around here.”

“No,” Loriel agreed. “But we do get a lot of visitors, so I suppose it is not all bad.”

“Yes, I remember how busy this place would get. How is everyone, anyway? What’s your friend’s name again, Ta-Mera is it?”

“Yes,” Loriel answered. “She’s doing great, everyone is, actually. So, how about you? What have you been up to?” She asked him.

“I’ve been in Khera-Ha.”

“Oh, how exciting!”

“Actually it was rather boring,” he admitted. “I was involved in the Family Business.”

“Surely something of interest must have been going on for you to stay two full years.”

“Well, sure,” he confessed. “We made a lot of money – we still are as a matter of fact. It’s hard to walk away from that kind of cash flow. Plus, I’ve been offered a position in the Royal Army. So, I may be moving there on a more permanent basis.”

“Oh?” Loriel asked, suddenly crushed. He was thinking of moving. Permanently.

“Well, I still have a few weeks to decide,” he added, probably because he could see how crushed she was. “I was sort of hoping in the meantime that I could stay here and visit you.”

Stunned, Loriel could think of nothing remotely appropriate to say. “Uh, we’re here,” she said lamely, pointing to the rocks above. “The best way to get up top is to take the trail over here on the side.”

Pretending he had said nothing, Loriel led the way through the thick trees and up the winding path until the two came out on top of the rocky ledge. She then let the view speak for itself as the two walked out towards the edge and sat down. The Courtyard, Stables, and Living Quarters sat below them, dark and protected as all slept soundly within. The Temple’s Inner Sanctum lay up the rocky cliff to their right, its thick walls foreboding and powerful as they rose directly from the mountainside. Off in the distance tiny lights from the village of Lockwood glowed warmly in the hillside, smoke rising from several of the small cottages. And then there were the stars. Thousands of them, shining brightly down from their heavenly abode while the full moon hung just above the horizon illuminating the night in a silvery glow.

“Isn’t this the most beautiful sight you’ve ever seen?” Loriel whispered, awed in the presence of the Goddess.

“Well, almost,” Seth whispered back, his gaze intent upon hers.

“They say you can feel Sah-Deo here,” Loriel continued, looking up towards the moon. “That She watches over us and protects us while we lay sleeping.” She turned her head then to look at Seth and their eyes locked. Reaching out he softly caressed her cheek and Loriel lost all sense of herself. He began to lean in towards her and Loriel found herself doing the same, her heart pounding.

And then he pulled her to him, his lips meeting hers in a warm embrace. Loriel eagerly returned his kiss, meeting his with an urgency of her own. She felt as though they were the only two people in the world. She was aware only of Seth and the life-shattering kiss they were currently engaged in. Finally they broke apart, his eyes searching hers, his hand now caressing her long hair. Speechless, Loriel just looked back into his eyes, never wanting this magical moment to end.

“Come here,” he finally whispered, and lay back against the rocks, brining Loriel with him. She laid her head upon his chest as he put his arms around her and the two looked up at the stars. Pulling her cloak around, she covered the two of them like a blanket. Sweetly, Seth kissed her on the forehead then held her tightly.

“Seth?” She asked quietly.

“Yes?”

“I’m glad you’re here,” she finally admitted.

“As am I,” he told her softly. “As am I.”

*******

Rolling onto her side, Loriel looked deep into Seth’s eyes. She smiled softly, her flesh still flushed from their love-making. The full moon was visible behind the large pane windows. The silvery light streamed through the silk curtains, which surrounded her bed, illuminating them. Gingerly she reached forward and smoothed back a strand of his unruly hair. Taking her hand in his own, he brought her fingertips to his mouth, kissing each one softly.

“My Little Princess,” he mumbled.

“Don’t,” she whispered as he kept her hand within his own.

“Don’t what?”

“You’re about to tell me you’re leaving again. I don’t want to hear it,” she answered. Seth merely shrugged. This was a typical exchange as of late, he had heard it all before. “What’s happening with us?” She asked.

“By us, I suppose you mean the Big Us, right?” his tone was still playful.

“When have I not?” She sighed. It was typical of Seth to dodge the issues. He never did stick around in the first place, but if Loriel tried to have a serious discussion it was a sure-fire method of sending him rushing for the door.

“Well, what do you want me to say?”

“That this time you’ll stay.” It was a losing battle. Loriel wondered why she even bothered anymore. The ammunition and the outcome were always the same.

“You know I can’t do that.” Honesty and this time perhaps a tiny hint of regret. “My work is in Khera-Ha. My life is there as well.”

This was new and Loriel reeled from the shock, pulling her hand from his. “Your life?” she answered, clearly offended. “Your life should be here, with me, Seth. Your work could be here, too, you know.”

“You know I can’t do that,” he was patronizing her now and the smile had faded from his face. “And I’m not going to.”

“So I’m just supposed to sit here holding my breath until you feel like passing through again?” she countered.

“I never said you had to remain faithful to me.” Why did his face have to remain so neutral when he said that? Why did he have to say it all?

“Seth, that isn’t the point of this conversation.”

“Then what is the point?” he asked, this time his anger becoming visible, boiling just beneath the surface. “Tell me, Loriel, because I’d really like to get this conversation over with.”

“The point,” she paused, glaring at him. “Is that this was working fine for me when I was eighteen. But I need more than just sex, Seth. I need substance.”

“And you think that because I’m not here 24/7, that I can’t give you substance?”

“In a word, yes,” she admitted.

“Have you ever stopped to think that perhaps I might like to see you more often than my duties generally permit? Have you ever considered the fact that you could come to Khera-Ha sometimes, instead of me always traveling here?” he fired his questions at her rapidly, not allowing time for a response.

“Just because I’m not here doesn’t mean that I’m not thinking of you. That I don’t care. Because, in case you haven’t figured it out yet, Loriel, I do care about you. A great deal. But we both know that our social positions tie us down and don’t allow us the luxury of a normal relationship. I thought we were willing to make that type of sacrifice in order to serve a higher purpose. Are you willing to give up becoming High Priestess so that you can be a General’s wife?” This time he waited for a response. When she continued to stare at him in silence, he continued his tirade. “Because that’s what it would take, Loriel, for us to be together. It would take one of us leaving behind everything we’ve worked for in order to become dependant on the other. Frankly, I don’t think either one of us is willing to make that kind of a sacrifice. Why do you think we work out so well the way we do? We can love each other without being tied by conventional strings.”

These last few lines should have been said lovingly, but he recited them harshly, angrily, his eyes glaring at her. Then, rolling towards the window he parted the sheer curtains and rose from the bed.

“So that’s it. You’re just going to walk away?”

“Do you really want to be together?” he asked, turning back around to face her as he stood at the side of her bed. “Is that what you really want, Loriel?”

“Of course I do.”

“Then come with me,” he offered.

“You know I can’t do that,” she answered softly.

“That’s right,” he conceded. “You can’t leave any more than I can stay. It may not be the best arrangement, but it’s the only one that works. Take it or leave it.” With that, he gathered up his clothing and disappeared from the room, leaving Loriel alone with her thoughts.

*******

Loriel entered her bedroom, removing the sash and outer-dress she wore while seeing the public. She tossed them to the chair, where her woolen cloak already lay. Sitting on the edge of her bed, Loriel undid the braids from her hair, brushing out the long tresses. She wore only her white cotton gown now, the sleeves flowed bell-like to her wrists and the body hung loose and free down to her ankles. The neck ran along her collarbone and then dipped into a short V, the edge of which had been embroidered just as the hem and sleeves had been. Only when the outer dress of purple silk and the golden sash were added did the gown have any shape at all. Looking down, Loriel noticed the heavy ankh that dangled at the end of her amethyst prayer beads and she took it in her hands, her mind wandering.

She stared at the silver ankh and then finally through it, as her thoughts became a blur, her memory mulling over the past two years in office. She was happy as High Priestess, how could she not be? She had always felt close to the Goddess, but the past year had brought her a feeling of unity that transcended any previous connection. But still, something seemed to be missing. She felt as though she was merely fulfilling her duties, waiting…waiting…Waiting for what?

Perhaps it was the state of her current relationship with Seth that weighed heavy on her heart. She had not slept with him since becoming Magdalene and subsequently his visits had fallen fewer and farther between. She had rationalized it away, telling herself that his duties now as General were far more time consuming, as were her own. But the truth was, although the spark has gone out a long time ago, she still loved him. She wondered if she were ever going to find The One. Certainly not by sequestering herself behind the Temple doors, immersing herself in work. Then again, perhaps she knew that The One was coming and with him all that had been prophesied. This frightened Loriel more than she was willing to admit. The constant fear and subsequent bad dreams had been present ever since her promotion.

She was unsettled at the thought of the dream. It had been present since early childhood and had increased in intensity as well as in frequency as the years progressed, occurring almost nightly now. Each time she felt she was drawing closer in the search, that finally she would gain a glimpse of what lay in that misty swamp water. What it was that caused her to wake screaming into the night.

Something was coming, of that, Loriel was positive. Something bigger than her Temple duties and relationship worries. Something bigger, in fact, than her. Something bigger than all of them.

Snapping out of the trance, Loriel was about to remove her boots when the chamber door burst open to reveal Seth standing in the shadows.

“Seth!” she exclaimed, surprised at his sudden appearance. “I thought you and your Garrison left this afternoon.”

“We did,” he answered curtly, coming into the room.

“Look, I really don’t have time for this,” Loriel told him, her weariness unintentionally adding a harsh edge to her words.

“Something’s going down,” he told her, unfazed by her cool response. Walking past her he continued to the window, looking out into the night. “There’s a large concentration of Savages congregating in the woods just outside the Temple grounds. We’ve been watching them for a few days now and I don’t like the looks of it. I fear it is not safe for you here.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Loriel argued. “This is my home. I’m not leaving.”

Turning to face her, Seth’s apprehension was more than evident. “You might not have a choice. Get Ta-Mera and the others. Let my Squadron escort them out of here.”

“I’m not leaving,” Loriel stressed.

“Fine!” he barked suddenly. “Then I’ll do it myself! King Ignacious wants your head on a platter. If you want to serve it up to him, by all means, go ahead. But I’m not about to let you serve your friends up as appetizers!”

“He’s doing this merely to frighten me,” Loriel assured him. “Those Savages are not here to attack.”

“You don’t know that.”

“What kind of a leader would I be if I backed down or hid at the first sign of trouble?”

“Trouble’s been abundant here for years, Loriel. This is serious. He wants you dead.”

“I’m not leaving, Seth.”

“Goddamn it, Loriel!” he yelled. Coming over to the bed he knelt in front of her, grabbing her by the shoulders. “Why do you have to be so stubborn? He’s going to kill you!”

“You’re overreacting.”

“And you’re underestimating the seriousness of the situation.” Letting go of her he rose. “You may be willing to sacrifice your life, Loriel, but I’m not.” With that he turned and marched towards the door.

“Where are you going?”

“To get the others out of here,” he answered without turning around. “If you’re wise, you’ll do the same.”

Seven - Chapter 1:2

Sun, 25 Mar 2007 08:13:32 GMT

Author's Note:
This scene takes place immediately following the opening scene. If you have not already read the opening scene, you may want to scroll down and tackle that one first.

Abigail found herself out on the street now, the skyscrapers of the downtown financial district looming high above her. Not sure of where she was headed, Abigail turned northward and began walking, the wind blowing her trench coat out behind her. It was fall, so the air was crisp and the wind was heavy. She could almost feel the winter coming. She didn’t blame her sister Cordelia for moving away to warmer temperatures. Maybe Merideth had gone to join her, she was always saying how she needed to get out of the city. Abigail liked the city though, the cold and sterile harshness of it, the greed, the corruption, the filth, the very essence of humanity itself. Once you removed yourself from the city, you tended to reconnect with nature and lose touch with what truly existed in the hearts of man.

She thought about the task Anne had asked of her, to start keeping a Journal. Abigail wondered what she could possibly have to write about. Anne had told her it might help with the blackouts, and fill in some of the missing sections of time. Abigail wondered if those were times she wanted to remember. It just seemed so pointless. Everything seemed pointless to Abigail. But, once again, her oldest Sister held a powerful sway over her. As if on cue, a bookstore beckoned her from further up the avenue. Maggie would call this Divine Providence, Abigail mused to herself, now thinking of another sister. It seemed the World was conspiring against her yet again. “All right then,” Abigail muttered to herself. “A Journal it is.”

Settling back into the corner of the armchair, Abigail took the journal from the paper bag, running her fingers over the smooth leather cover. It was a dark burgundy brown, and soft and warm as young girl’s skin. After much debate, Abigail had chosen the one with a leather binding, as its cover closed and tied around the pages. She fingered the triangular flap, pulling it back and opening and closing the other leather section to reveal the lined pages within. Open, close, open, close…she fiddled while she wondered how to get started. The beginning was always the hardest for Abigail, it had always been that way for her. Not just in writing, but in life as well. She hated the awkward fumblings of first meetings. She knew no better what to write down, than she knew what to say to someone she just met. It was then she decided to do away with the beginning, and just skip to the middle. She would write as though she were already in the center of a long letter writing campaign with a dear and trusted friend.

This is where Abigail hesitated. A dear friend? A trusted one? She knew nothing of those. She had acquaintances, sure, and semi-friends. But none so dear as to be trusted, and none so trusted as to be dear.

“The pen will know what to write,” she said aloud to the cat, who sat watching her from the window. He was a chocolate point Siamese, and just about the only thing Abigail ever loved that wasn’t tied to her by blood. In response he yawned, stretched wide, and came over to see what all the fuss was about. She let him smell the pen and the leather journal, which he rubbed with his cheek. Having christened it thusly, she set the pen in motion, and began to write.

My name is Abigail Moore. My friends call me Abbey, or at least they would, if I had any friends. I was born into a world of pain, anger, hatred and above all despair. I am one of Seven who share a common life. But my life is spent in the darkness. The others have kept me there out of fear; Fear of what would happen if I were to gain control. Having experienced nothing but pain and humiliation, I no longer feel pain at all. Hatred, Anger, Revenge...these are my constant companions and I thrive on them. I would be destroyed by a single kiss, a kind word, a loving embrace. But none will dare attempt, so my power stays strong.

I was an innocent once. Youthful, hopeful, naive. Then a man came along. Or rather, a shell of a man. He was filled with anger and hatred towards women and I became the catalyst of all that he despised. I paid a dear price. It's safe to say I don't care for men anymore. Over the years, I've met a few who were the exception to the rule, men who were Real Men, and I found that perhaps one day I may change my mind towards them. But even now, I don't care for women much anymore either. I had a girlfriend; I guess you can say I still have her. But she is so busy with work and her other friends that she never has time for me anymore. Some days I feel like an after-thought. I don't believe that I was ever meant to be truly happy in love.

It's winter in the city. On days like today the towering glass monuments sway ever so slightly in the harsh winds that tear through the avenues. Looking up at them beneath the gray and somber sky, one tends to feel the vast emptiness of it all. I like the emptiness as it mirrors what I feel inside.

I went to see my eldest Sister today. I love pissing her off. She thinks she's so special just because she is "in charge" of us. She is no better than I and all of her money and success and power can't change the fact that she is just as lost as I am. She doesn't love anyone but herself. Then again, at least she has herself to love. I don't love anyone any more than they love me.

Fuck the World, Fuck them All. I don't need them.

All I need is a bottle of Rum, a pack of smokes, some loud music and people to leave me the fuck alone.

Abigail sat back and sighed. She recognized her anger for what it was. No, she didn’t really hate everyone, everything. It had just been so long since anyone had offered her any kindness, any companionship, any hope at all. Abigail knew that if someone were to see her, to truly see her, the façade would come crashing down. There was still some hope alive, buried deep in her heart beneath the anger and the rage and hate. No matter how hard she fought it, somehow, after all the horror, after all the despair and all the loneliness, somehow hope survived. Abigail buried that hope, and surrounded it with pain. Her anger was her armor. She would fight the world if she had to, single-handedly, tooth and nail if it meant she never had to feel the pain again.

How she longed for what she’d never had, what she never would have! It was the longing that pierced her armor. It was the desire that caused resentment and jealousy when it was not fulfilled. So Abigail grew to hate the longing and despise the desire. She fought so vehemently against it that she became enraged at the very sight of it in others. If she were not to have it, then no one would.

Excerpt II: The Prophecy

Thu, 22 Mar 2007 01:12:38 GMT

Author's Note:
The following scenes occur early in our story while the young Osirin Twins are in Khera-Ha making a name for themselves in the Courts of Hera-Ra.

Seth entered the room as he was summoned and found Merikare unfolding a length of brilliant white cloth while Hera-Ra stood naked before him. She was even more stunning devoid of clothing and he found himself speechless in Her presence. She looked him over for a moment before speaking, Her blue eyes seeming to peer into his very soul. “You, youngest brother, one named after our Great Lord of Chaos, you have worked hard for many years, no?”

“Yes, my Queen,” he stuttered, suddenly feeling very unsure of himself.

“While your brother reaps the fruits of what you have sewn.” She continued, quite sure already of the answer, he believed.

“Yes, my Queen.”

Merikare walked up to Her then, and centering the length of cloth beneath Her arms raised it to the center of Her back and then brought it forward to cross over Her breasts. She then took the material down over each shoulder and crossed it again in the back bringing it around to Her stomach where it crossed again near Her bellybutton and finally tied the ends in the back. Meanwhile, the Queen continued.

“You know of the Prophecy and of the rewards you have been promised, yet you want your brother’s prize as well. You thirst for his blood, perhaps?” Pausing, She smiled, but Seth could no more answer than he could move the Heavens and the Earth. “Allow Me this time with your brother and all you desire shall be yours, for I can bring you his downfall!”

Bowing, he showed his loyalty. “I am at Your disposal, My Queen.”

“There is something you could do for Me.” At this the Queen paused while Merikare fastened another length of cloth to Her waist, wrapping it around lengthwise as a skirt. “A problem has arisen with one of My Viziers. He seeks to take too much power for himself. Now, certainly, this is something I could resolve Myself. But I believe this task to be more of your liking.”

Startled by the request, Seth found his voice and replied in wonder. “And how, precisely, would You have me resolve this problem, Your Luminance?”

“Ah, Ha, Ha, Ha,” She laughed, the melodious tones filled the chamber as though it were the song of a rare and cherished bird. “Such questions! You are a War Monger, are you not?”

“Yes, my Queen.” Again he bowed in obedience.

“Then solve the problems as all War Mongers must. Had I wanted him dealt with any other way I would have inquired of another more properly suited to the task. As it is, I have already solicited the help of the one most suited to the task at hand.”

“I understand.”

“Take care of it tomorrow night,” She told him offhandedly, while slipping a golden bracelet upon Her arm. “Then meet Me in the bathhouse when your job is complete. I shall be there during the fourth hour of darkness. In the meantime, leave Me to your Brother. I have My own tasks to complete.”

“Yes, Your Luminance.” Seth conceded, already backing out of the room. “Your Will is my own. Em Hotep…”

Seth lay back against the edge of the small pool, the water now up to his chest, and inhaled slowly as the steam began to fill his nostrils. Closing his eyes, he sank farther down, allowing himself to relax completely. As he sat this way, he heard the echo of footsteps and opened his eyes to see Hera-Ra standing before him. She wore the white cloth She had the night before around Her chest and stomach while another white cloth ran lengthwise, hanging from Her waist in both front and back by a golden chain. Her olive-skinned legs were wholly visible and he admired the way they sloped gently upward from her delicate feet to the curve of her hip. “I see that you are already waiting for Me.” She began, gently dipping her left foot in the water, while the golden bracelets upon her ankles clinked softly together. “How did the Vizier take the news of his Resignation?”

“I’m afraid, My Queen, that at first he was all choked up about it,” As Seth said the next part, he took his finger and drew an imaginary line across his neck, indicating his method of disposal. “But in the end, I shall admit, he was grinning from ear to ear.”

“Excellent. I take it that you enjoyed the assignment.”

“Aye,” he nodded in concession, “That I did, My Queen.”

Stepping fully into the water now, She began to advance towards him, the length of the cloth between Her legs now floating atop the water. “I shall have many more for you then. You will serve Me well and in return I shall give you all that you desire.”

By this time, She had reached him, Her body and face but mere inches apart from his, the water now up to the bottom of Her breasts. He stood then, his height being greater than Her own, he looked down upon Her and took the Queen by the arms. Pulling Her to him, he did what no man dared, and kissed Her firmly upon the lips.

“How long have we been here now?” Coren began, the anger evident in the straining of his voice.

“Just shy of two years,” Seth told him.

“And yet you still haven’t listened to a thing I have said. She is poison, Seth, can you not see that?”

“What I see is the two of you together,” Seth answered defiantly. “If you call that poisonous then you are drowning in her toxins. Don’t tell me what to do when you defy your very words. You forget, brother, that I am worth as much as you.”

“You would like to think you are worth more than me,” Coren told him. “But your jealousy will destroy you.”

“Jealousy?” Seth laughed. “You are one to talk of jealousy! You wish to drive me away from Hera-Ra so that you may have her all to yourself. You can’t stand the fact that given the opportunity, she may like me better!”

“Ha!” Coren laughed as well. “You could never steal a woman from me.”

“So little do you think of me, big brother,” Seth told him. “That the truth shall be more than you can bear.”

Eternity: Excerpt I

Wed, 14 Feb 2007 23:43:29 GMT

Author's Note:
This scene takes place early in the Novel during Sophie's first day on the job. She has just arrived in California and we find her at the beginning of her new life.

The next morning Sophie arrived at the agency eager to start her new job. She was greeted warmly by the receptionist, who escorted her to the office of Sandra Lamoreaux, who was the current manager of the Beverly Wilshire Modeling Agency. According to her Grand-père, Armando Lamoreaux Design had been big in Europe, and had opened the agency here in the states about 30 years ago. When Armando was unable to continue running the business, his daughter Sandra, who had been one of the models, took over. Sandra greeted Sophie with a firm handshake and offered her a seat. “Welcome aboard Sophie,” she smiled, glancing through her portfolio. “Your work is impressive, it shows talent and potential. We believe that you are going to make a wonderful addition to our Corporate Family. Now, Jack McGee is our resident make-up artist and hairstylist. I had planned on promoting him to Simon’s team, but for now I would like for him to train you, so I will be putting you both on Troy’s team. So, why don’t we head on down to the Employee lounge, and I’ll introduce you to the boys.”

Sophie followed Sandra to the Employee Lounge, where she would be introduced to everyone. The room was spacious with several couches and a TV. There was also a kitchenette, small dining area, vending machines, and several drafting tables spread throughout the room. Two men stood at one of the drafting tables with their backs to Sophie. It appeared as though they were looking at sheets of photographs through one of those little magnifying lenses. It was hard to get a good look at the two men from this angle, although Sophie couldn’t help but notice the dark-haired one on the right. He had on a rather nice pair of extremely tight jeans that left little to her imagination.

“Oh, good! Here they are!” Sandra exclaimed, clasping her hands together. “Oh boys,” she called out, motioning towards them. “Boys, could you come over here for a moment.”

“Be right with you,” the dark-haired on said, never taking his eyes from the pictures. The one on the left, however, immediately stood up and came over, shaking Sophie’s hand. He was almost bald, with a thin ring of closely shaved hair around the back of his head, a mix of gray and blonde hue. On his nose sat a small pair of wire framed glasses and he wore a black turtleneck with a pair of jeans. He appeared to be in his mid-thirties.

“Sophie, this is Simon Hansen,” Sandra introduced. “He is the head photographer here at the Beverly Wilshire. If you have any questions regarding the shoots you may go to him. However, as I mentioned earlier, I’d like for you to be working closely with Troy.”

“Pleased to meet you, Sophie,” Simon said, and then quietly excused himself.

Frustrated, Sandra glanced over at the table where Troy still stood. “Troy, will you please come over here.”

When he finally did turn around, Sophie’s heart almost stopped and her breath caught in her throat causing her to gasp softly. He was young, in his mid-twenties, and he was drop dead gorgeous. His dark brown hair was cut short from his temples and tapered down into long sideburns and the top was a thick mass of curls and waves. As he sauntered over towards her, his lean muscular body seemed to glide across the room. He smiled at her, and she caught his eyes, which shimmered back at her from a pale blue.

“This is Troy Morrison and I must admit our new pride and joy here at the Wilshire. He’s one of the best up and coming young photographers in the Nation.”

“Oh please, Sandra, you flatter me too much,” he said, still smiling at Sophie. God, even his voice was perfect!

“So, you must be our new make-up artist and hair stylist,” he said to her, taking her hand in his own. “It’s nice to meet you. I actually had a chance the other day to go over your portfolio and from what I saw I believe that you will do well here. Am I correct in the understanding that you have only worked in this field for a few months, under an agency in Pennsylvania?”

“Yes,” Sophie responded, almost at a whisper.

“Have you ever worked on an ad campaign or runway show before?”

“Not really,” Sophie blushed slightly.

“That’s okay,” Troy assured her. “I believe that you show promise. However, I did want to confirm your level of experience, so that I will know in the future how much I will need to explain and how much you should already know to do.”

“I see,” Sophie answered timidly.

“Boy she’s a fountain of conversation, isn’t she?” he playfully asked Sandra before turning his attention back to Sophie. “Well, I really don’t need you until tomorrow morning. We’ll be doing our first test shots at 10:00 am, so we’ll need hair and make-up started by 8:00 am. I’d like to see you in my office about thirty minutes prior to that so that we can go over the set and the look for each girl. At that time you can direct any questions or concerns to my attention. In the meantime, is there anything else I can answer for you?”

“Yes,” Sophie managed to stutter. “Where will my work area be?”

“Ah yes, Sandra do you mind?”

“Not at all, Troy, I will leave her in your capable hands.”

“In that case, if you will please follow me,” Troy motioned, as he began to walk away. Blushing, Sophie turned to follow him.

“Don’t worry dear,” Sandra consoled. “Troy has that effect on everyone. That’s one of the reasons he makes such a good photographer. The models all just adore him.”

“Are we coming or are we chatting?” Troy barked, his voice sounding irritated.

“Sorry, I’ll be right there!” Sophie didn’t think it was possible, but she managed to blush even brighter.

He led her into the workroom which contained a long row of vanities, a large sink, and trays of supplies. There were even two haircutting stations complete with mirrors, swivel chairs, and sinks to wash the models hair in. It was twice the size of the haircutting station she had used at her previous job, and came fully stocked with all the accessories, and hairstyling equipment she would need.

“You’ll be working closely with Jack,” Troy told her, leaning against the row of vanities. “He does all the hair and assists with most of the costuming. He’ll supervise your work for the first month and then after that the two of you will be working on separate assignments. So, any questions, comments, suggestions and what not should really go to him first. Sandra puts too much stock into my work processes. Jack’s the real one behind the Look. I just get to take the pictures.”

“I can’t wait to meet him,” Sophie said, looking around at her supplies.

“Well, he’ll be here first thing tomorrow morning. I have a feeling you are just going to love working with him. But then again, we all do. I must admit we would be lost if not for Jack. But anyway, in the meantime, you may as well take the rest of the day off to get settled and I’ll just plan on seeing you tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” Sophie told him. “I’ll see you then.”

Standing up to leave, Troy stopped as he passed Sophie, turning so that he was facing her directly. “I’m sorry, but I don’t believe I recall your name. Would you mind refreshing my memory?”

“It’s Sophie Monet,” she told him.

“Ah yes, Sweet Sophie,” he smiled warmly at her and then tapped his finger to his temple. “It is now permanently engraved on my psyche. I shall not forget again. It was indeed a pleasure to have met you, Sophie.”

“Oh no,” she blushed. “The pleasure was all mine.”

Excerpt I: The Prophecy

Tue, 13 Feb 2007 09:38:03 GMT

Author's Note:
This scene takes place in the middle of the story. Loriel has been driven from the Temple Grounds by a vicious attack and has found herself wandering the woods. She runs across a stranger who is willing to help her get to safety.

Loriel sat in front of the fire, her blanket wrapped around her tightly, eating the fish Coren had finally caught for dinner. They spoke lightly of Bengala and of the current political situation, disagreeing as usual. “You and I just come from two different worlds,” Loriel stated. “Religiously, socially, financially…it’s no wonder we don’t get along.”

“But we should,” he said suddenly, catching Loriel off guard. Speechless, she stared back at him, wondering if he was trying to engage her in another verbal battle. “No, really. I mean that,” he added, smiling softly.

“You’re looking at me funny,” she told him.

“I can’t help it. You’re so beautiful.”

“And here I thought you were just going to give me another sarcastic comment.”

“I’m sorry, Loriel,” he apologized. “I don’t mean to do that to you. I really don’t. It’s just that you get this spark, this glow about you when you put me in my place. I can’t help myself.”

“I really don’t know what to say,” pausing, Loriel looked deep into his eyes. “Tell me about her,” she added softly.

“Her?”

“The One. The One who drove you into these woods. The One who broke your heart.”

“Is it that obvious?” he asked, but Loriel just held his gaze waiting for an answer. “She was a Goddess,” he finally answered, a faraway look in his eyes.

“She must have been special,” Loriel encouraged, eager to learn of his mysterious past.

“At the time I thought She was the most beautiful woman I had every seen. I could see the Goddess in Her, just as I see Her in you. I loved the Woman with all of my heart. But She used me like a pawn in a game. She did not love me as I loved Her and one day She betrayed me with my brother. I left after I found them together and never came back. I wanted to go somewhere that I would never have to see Her or even hear Her name again. I thought I would never love anyone again. But, I was wrong.”

“Oh?” Loriel’s breath caught in her throat and her heart began to slam against her chest. He had been wrong, she thought. Was he saying he had feelings for her? “I suppose you’ve met someone then who has changed your mind,” she began.

“Just a damsel in distress who has come crashing into my life.”

“Surely that would be rather upsetting. Not a very romantic beginning.”

“On the contrary,” he smiled, moving closer. “It was all very exciting. But I’ve been a fool. I’ve been pushing her away because I’m afraid.”

“What are you afraid of?” she asked quietly, the tension in the air crackling like electricity.

“That I will love her and then lose her,” he sighed. “Just like the other.”

“The Other?” Loriel asked, momentarily confused. “Oh, the one who betrayed you?”

“Yes.”

“Who was this person? This perfect woman who betrayed your love. Tell me her name.”

“I can’t, or you’ll think I’m jesting again and get angry. It will spoil this perfect moment.”

“Why would I not believe you?” Loriel asked, surprised at his reluctance.

“Because I am speaking of Hera-Ra.”

“Hera-Ra?” Loriel was more than just a little surprised at his response. “You’re right. I do think you are jesting.”

“My brother and I were Merchants,” he began. “Importing and Exporting to be exact. Among our normal ware we ran contraband between Bengala and Khera-Ha. We had dealings with one of Her Generals and he brought us before Her. She made us an offer we could not refuse. She offered me more gold than I had ever seen and let me tell you, Loriel; I had seen a lot of gold!

“I think to ensure my loyalty, She seduced me. I was young. Full of greed, full of pride and She was so beautiful. It was not difficult. She got into my brain, got into my soul…took over my heart. I did many things of which I am not proud. Sins that even now I am paying for.”

Suddenly he paused; looking at her with such longing and intensity that it caused Loriel’s heart to drop to the pit of her stomach. “Perhaps it is a good thing that you hate me,” he told her. “I would never be worthy of your love.”

“I don’t hate you,” she whispered, unable to pull her eyes from his.

He leaned forward then, approaching her slowly, never taking his eyes from hers as he reached out to take her chin into his hand. “I don’t hate you, too,” he whispered before bringing his lips to hers.

New Preface of The Prophecy

Mon, 05 Feb 2007 15:22:39 GMT

When I started this story, I had a clear idea of the message I wanted to send, and the key activities I wanted to occur, but did not know exactly how to go about the "History" and the "Back Plot" to bring this into proper creation. So, I used a scenario that was adequet but didnt feel "right". I believe I have finally had the vision I needed to set this story into its proper motion. This is the new beginning, the start of the new Preface, where we will see the true nature of the story beginning to unfold. I have no idea where we're going to go from here, but it looks like this is going to be quite the adventure!
*Anne

Pronounciation Guide
Vowels are pronounced the same as in spanish (latin based languages)
A = ah, like in "father", E = eh, I = ee, like in "reed", O = oh, U = oo, like in "school"

Oannu = "oh-ah-new"
Sah-Deo = "saw-day-oh"
Sah-Endra = "saw-end-raw"
Sah-Belle = "saw-bell"
Sah-Brena = "saw-breh-naw"
Sah-Vana = "saw-vah-naw"
Sah-Mon = "saw-moan"
Sah-Hra = "saw-hoorah" with a hard emphases in the Heh sound of the H, like "saw-HEH-raw"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Universe, as known to humankind, is made up of Galaxies and each of these Galaxies are made up of Solar Systems and the number of Suns and Planets that exist in this Universe are infinite and uncountable – and life exists around each Star.

One such Galaxy began millions of years before our Yellow Sun sprang to life. It was the most ancient and eldest of all Galaxies, and it contained the first seeds of life and consciousness. In this Galaxy were seven Solar Systems; and on the first planet to spring forth life, was a humanoid creature called Oannu. Oannu was the first entity to become self-aware, and he saw the God Power in himself that none of the other humanoid creatures could see. Oannu was not content to live the short and meager life of his people, and he activated the God Power within himself and Ascended to become one with the Source of the Universe itself. He became a perfect and immortal being, and had the powers and abilities of what we have come to call God. He called this state of Ascension “Sahu” and gave himself the title of Sah-Oannu. It was then that Oannu realized that he must teach and watch over not only his race, but the other galactic races as well, so that those worthy could also Ascend and become Sahu as he had done.

After many millennia, all seven solar systems progressed and a chosen few from each had become Sahu as well. Oannu formed a Council in the Heavens of those who had become like him, and they made the Galactic Laws for the rest of the life that existed therein. But the races were unable to embrace their differences and began to fight amongst themselves. He decided to send his two Sons, Oren and Setu to rule over the Council in the hopes of bringing a balance to the Races and allowing the Galaxy to come together as one living Entity, focused on the good of the All, so that they may spread out to other Galaxies and bring them the powers of Ascension as well.

Oren, the First Born, wanted to rule the Galaxy with Order and Law and a Divine Will/Plan for all. He believed the only way to Ascend was to follow a disciplined Path, predetermined by those that had gone before. Setu, the Younger, believed in Free/Self Will and Chaos. He felt that none should be bound by fate or divine intervention and that all should be free to find the path how and when they wished. He believed that in order to Ascend and become reborn in perfection, all that came before must be questioned, tested and finally destroyed to make way for the new.

The seven Races divided themselves between the Brothers, and a great war was fought in the Heavens over which plan was right. Oren eventually triumphed and Setu was banished to the Solar System of the Red Star. He, his Wife Sah-Endra, and their followers were banished to a dry and deserted planet of red dust that circled the great red dwarf called the Red Dawn.

Setu vowed revenge upon his Brother and sought to take back the Throne of Power that was rightfully his. After many centuries of banishment, he eventually charmed his Brother into meeting with him again. Oren was vain and trusting and believed his brother to have changed and wished to promote Order and Divine Will to the Galaxy. At Setu’s request, he traveled to the desert planet of the Red Dawn. Upon their meeting, Setu murdered his brother, cutting his body into 14 pieces and scattered his remains among the 7 Solar Systems of their Galaxy.

Sah-Deo, the Wife of Oren, learned of this treachery and searched the Galaxy for 14 years recovering the severed parts of her husband. Once she had his remains together, she wrapped them in special cloth and spoke words of power and restored life back to Oren. But this was not life as before. Oren could only exist in his Ka, his spiritual body of light. He was able to live again in his former glory, but could not leave the Kingdom of the Heavens and walk again among the people.

Oannu desired that the 7 Galaxies end their wars amongst themselves and live in the balance of Order and Chaos. He saw that his Sons had failed to achieve this. So, he created a new star and a new planet, and formed a plan to see if Order and Chaos could balance, or if one must always rule over the other. He sent Sah-Deo, the Wife of Oren to Oversee the Laws of Order on the new World, and Sah-Endra, the Wife of Setu to Oversee the Laws of Chaos on the new World. Then, he chose 5 great Sahu from the remaining Solar Systems in the Galaxy. Each Sahu was sent to the new World along with a handful of selected people of their race to settle in this New Land.

Sah-Belle was given the Western Forests and called her lands Bengala.

Sah-Mon was given the Northern Mountains and called her lands Napola.

Sah-Vana was given the Central Plains and called her lands Ta-Mera.

Sah-Brena was given the Southern Shores and called her lands Siriana.

Sah-Hra was given the Eastern Deserts and called her lands Khera-Ha.

Where his sons had failed, Oannu believed that the Seven Chosen Sahus could form a balance on this New World and create a new plan for the Galaxy. With Oren at his side, and Setu banished to the Red Dawn, he sat back and admired his creation.

The Sahus, being Perfect, were Eternal. They taught their countrymen in the Religion, Laws, Customs and Manner of the Worlds they came from. They co-existed, shared, and blended their lands with others. It would appear that the experiment was going to be a success.

But time has a way of undoing all that has been done. The Sahus began to fight amongst themselves, and terrible wars and separations tore the lands asunder. The Sahus themselves became hidden, until all that remained of their name and their ways were fairytales and legends. The people however, remained fighting for the long-forgotten feuds of their Father. The World knew no peace, and the races were no longer as one.

Forever Excerpt 1

Sun, 04 Feb 2007 06:13:53 GMT

Author's Note:
This scene takes place early in Chapter One. Earlier that day, Julian had met Jessica for the first time in a brief encounter.

“As the sun began to sink lower over the campus, Julian found himself behind the wheel of his beat‑up primer gray Corvette. He and Brian had decided to go to Dean’s party after all, and it was Julian’s turn to drive.

“You really need to get a new car,” Brian complained for the third time that evening. “Why do you insist on driving this rusted out piece of shit?”

“It has charm,” Julian replied, “and it doesn’t draw attention.”

“No, just fleas.”

“Come on, she’s not that bad. Sure, she could use a new stereo, a paint job, some body work…among other things, but under the hood she purrs like a kitten.”

“A new car would purr and look good,” Brian stressed.

“Yes, but this car makes my Parents crazy. A Corvette is bad enough – an unpainted, old Corvette is positively unnerving. Every time I drive it up to their mansion or the office I make sure to park it right out in front. My Father nearly comes unglued! Try doing that with your Mercedes.”

“You love torturing them, don’t you?”

“Payback’s a bitch,” Julian smiled. “Oh look, we’re here,” and he pulled the car into a spot in front of the house.

No sooner had Julian reached the front steps, when Dean opened the door to greet them. He looked pretty much the same as Julian remembered, except for the fact that his head had recently been shaved. He still wore his black leather jacket, torn jeans and combat boots, and balanced a cigarette over his left ear.

“Julian!” he exclaimed, as the two saluted one another with a series of handshakes. “Where did you disappear to all summer?”

“I was in Paris with the family,” he explained. “Apparently they needed someone to baby-sit the flat.”

“Well I’m glad you found your way back. I would hate for you to miss my final summer party on the Hill.”

“Oh really?” Julian asked, intrigued. “I was wondering when your parents were going to boot your freeloading butt to the curb.”

“You’ve just got to come see my new place,” Dean said, pulling the cigarette down from his ear and twirling it around in his fingers. “It’s close to the city center, and it’s the ultimate bachelor pad. Next time you want to party in Philly just give me a call.” Replacing the cigarette to its perch above his ear, Dean looked over Julian’s shoulder. “Oh, I see you brought frat boy with you. Can’t you go anywhere without him?” he frowned.

Laughing, Julian shook his head. “Not generally.”

“Well, I did invite all willing members of Penn U, so please make yourselves at home.” Nodding his chin in Brian’s direction, Dean mumbled a greeting. “Brian....”

“Dean...” Brian responded through clenched teeth.

“Come on,” Julian urged, stepping inside. “We’ve got a lot of drinking to do, so let’s not waste our time out here. You two just need to chill the fuck out.”

“Of course,” Brian smiled magnanimously. “After all, somebody has to be the adult.”

Julian headed immediately for the upstairs bar, which was located in the corner of the living room. Mixing himself a drink, he surveyed the crowd of fellow students. This was a typical "Dean Party” - you name it, it was going on! He was about to go downstairs, when a familiar face caught his eye.

There, sitting on the sofa was the lovely Jessica. She was dressed in a light blue sweater and jeans, and her long hair hung loose framing her porcelain skin and dark eyes. She was certainly under-dressed for one of Dean’s parties, but still was easily the most beautiful girl in the room. Julian was impressed that she would have such self-confidence that she wouldn’t bother to dress up for a party.

Jessica Taylor sat nursing a soda and listening to the mind numbing conversation of the two blondes seated across from her. She was beginning to wonder if they had gone to school on cheerleading scholarships and allowed herself to fantasize a gruesome fate befalling them. Perhaps exploding breast implants, or toxic hair bleach. When she could no longer stomach the compelling conversation of briefs vs. boxers, Jessica grabbed her empty glass and was about to leave when a familiar face caught her attention. It was the guy who had assaulted her this morning with cornball lines and compliments. Jessica had been caught off guard by his sudden attention, but had to admit, it had been rather flattering. She was not accustomed to being hit on in the first place, let alone by a stranger while walking to class.

He appeared to be coming towards her, and Jessica couldn’t help but allow her eyes to linger. He was now wearing black leather pants and a white shirt, and his hair hung loose and curled around his neck. He was at least six feet tall, and was thin without being skinny. Through the white shirt he wore, she couldn’t help but notice that he had nicely shaped biceps and pecs. She also noticed he had the bluest eyes she had ever seen. In fact, Jessica thought she could get lost in those eyes if she looked too deeply. He looked stunning, like a young Jim Morrison back from the dead. Jessica had to admit she was not only interested but also a little excited by this new suitor.

“Well, if it isn’t Mr. Wondering,” she smiled up at him.

“You can call me Julian,” he answered, “If I can call you mine.”

Laughing Jessica scooted over and motioned for him to join her on the couch. “Come on, have a seat, It’s embarrassing to see you trying so hard.”

"So, are you enjoying the party?" He asked, taking a sip of his drink.

"Like a caffeine enema,” her response made Julian chuckle, but her tone was so dry he wondered if briefly if she were serious. She had appeared to be having fun, anyway.

“Do you come to these parties often?” Julian cringed. He was trying so hard to start a conversation without sounding corny but he was failing miserably.

"Actually, no" Jessica confessed. "I’m sort of new to the Campus, remember?”

"Ah, yes. Isn't it funny how we keep running into each other today?" Julian sat his glass down on the table, noticing her empty one. "Would you like me to get you something to drink?" He asked.

"No thanks, I don t drink."

Julian stood up, reaching out for her hand. "Why don't you come with me anyway, there is someone I would like to introduce you to."

Seven's Opening Scene

Mon, 29 Jan 2007 19:41:51 GMT

Author's Note:
This is literally the opening scene of the book. A good place to start when reading anything to do with "Seven".

Anne entered her office, tossing the file onto her desk. Her secretary had already alerted her that someone was waiting, and sure enough, a pair of knee-high combat boots hung over the back of her sofa. Anne followed the boots to the tight black leather pants that lay against the back of the sofa and down to the young lady lying on her back. Along with the boots and leather pants, she also wore a black tank top under a long-sleeved mesh shirt. Her trench coat was still on, the hood up but the bodice unbuttoned. Anne recognized it immediately, as it was one she had given her as a gift. The interior and cuffs were lined with fur that appeared Dalmatian in color and pattern and the outer shell was a soft lamb-skin black leather.

“Hello Abigail,” she said, not bothering to mask the disdain and disapproval she felt at the girl’s appearance. Her hair, now mid-back in length was her natural blonde until it reached her shoulders, then it had been dyed jet-black the remainder of the way. Abbey’s fingernails were short and painted black like the rest of her, and several heavy silver rings adorned her fingers. Between them she held a black clove cigarette which she ashed into the crystal ashtray which sat atop her bare midriff. “You can’t smoke in here.”

Taking a long drag, Abbey looked up at Anne with a twisted smile. “You own the building. You own the whole damn company. What are they going to do, fire you?”

“You could at least open a window,” Anne reprimanded, walking over to the large bay windows that looked down upon the city from the top of her penthouse office suite. “My God, Abbey, you look like Cruella DeVille…” she paused shaking her head again at the outfit. “On a bad day.”

“Thanks Sis,” she smiled, allowing the sarcasm through. “I love you too.”

“So what’s up?” Anne asked, anxious already to have the conversation over.

Looking towards the window, Abbey looked her sister over. Anne was dressed in a typical red suit, her long brown hair wound in a bun and secured with two small wooden hair sticks. As much detail as Abigail had gone to with the black, so her sister had with the red. Red cat-eye framed glasses, red lipstick, long red polished nails, red heels…and so on. She looked very confident and formidable when she wore red. “I’m having my blackouts again,” Abbey told her.

“Are you still attending therapy?”

“Yes, but I prefer talking to you,” Abbey insisted. “You’re family, you were there Anne, you know what we all went through.”

“I thought it was helping,” Anne insisted, coming over to sit behind her desk now.

“Do you still get your headaches?” Abbey asked

“Yes,” Anne sighed, taking off her glasses and rubbing at her temples. “I feel one coming on now even. But we’re talking about your blackouts.”

“I woke up again, somewhere strange and unfamiliar. Couldn’t remember how I got there. My memory had started to come back for awhile there, but I seem to have lost it again. I know who I am, I know you and our other sisters, know the past. But there is so much missing between now and then and I can’t remember any of it.”

“Maybe you don’t want to remember it,” Anne told her, returning the glasses to their perch on her delicate nose. “I’ve told you before – Don’t rock the boat Abigail.”

“There is just so much that doesn’t make sense,” she insisted, putting out the cigarette. “Like the tattoo. You would think I would remember getting it – and why.”

“Abbey, you know none of us know why,” Anne sighed. She was the oldest of six sisters, all a year or two apart. After Anne was Maggie, Merideth, Cordelia, Clara and finally Abigail, who was the youngest. Their father and mother had been killed years ago when the girls were young and all six had been separated and placed into foster homes. Just a few years ago, they had all found each other again. What they discovered though, was fascinating – all of them had gotten the same tattoo – a winged solar disk with a seven-point star in the center of the sun – on the small of their backs. Not only did they all share the same tattoo, but not a one of them shared the memory of how it got there. They were all the same size and the same colors too. It was quite the mystery. They also found they all shared common problems of blackouts, memory loss and headaches, though some to a lesser degree than others. Anne had been lucky, she got only the headaches – but Abigail, or Abbey as everyone called her, suffered the worst of the memory loss and the blackouts.

Without thinking, Anne started to shift the red tulips in the flower arrangement that adorned her desk. Methodically she arranged each one so that it surrounded the vase in an even pattern. “They’re beautiful,” Abbey told her.

“Yes,” Anne agreed, her mind already a million miles away. “I’ve always loved red tulips.” Anne then switched her attention to the desk and started to shuffle the folders and papers around until the desk was organized. Abbey sighed and pulled out another cigarette. Flicking open her Zippo, she allowed the flame to dance around before lighting it, staring into the yellow center of the flame.

“You know, it’s odd, but I always like the yellow ones.”

“Well, you didn’t always dress like the angel of death, you know,” Anne returned her attention to her sister. “Must you smoke those things in here?”

“If you don’t want me to smoke, why do you keep the ashtray?”

“Maybe I’m hoping one of these days you’ll forget I have it.”

“Yeah, real funny, Anne,” Abigail looked up at the ceiling, now intently studying each tile. “I’m worried about Merideth. I haven’t been able to contact her in awhile.”

“You know how she is,” Anne consoled. “She’ll turn up again in a day or two.”

“I don’t know,” Abbey insisted. “I just have this bad feeling.”

“Don’t go looking for trouble, Abbey, or it will surely find you.”

“My God, Anne, you sound like Mother,” Abigail groaned. “Full of bad omens.”

“Someone has to,” she insisted. “Who else is going to take care of everyone if I don’t.”

“I got along just fine before you came back.”

“Did you?” Anne said this cruelly, knowing full well that Abbey had no memory of her foster care or anything that had happened since the sisters were separated. “Abbey, I have work to do,” she continued. “Can we talk about this later?”

“Yeah,” swinging her legs down, Abigail picked up the ashtray and got up from the couch. Walking around she placed it on the desk, grinding her cigarette into it.

“Don’t rock the boat, Abigail,” Anne lectured again. “You may think you want to know the truth, but trust me, you don’t.

“You don’t know what I want.”

“With your memory, can you honestly say you do?”

“Go back to work, Anne,” Abbey told her.