7. Welcomed By the Darkness

Drinks, he, the pain, the blood. Thrives he, in the fear that debilitates. – Bloodsongs. 

*

(Art)

When the infuriating dinner was finally over, Art helped his mom with the dishes. His mom was singing under her breath, whistling softly and there was a bounce in her steps. Every few seconds, she'd throw him a pleased look, one heavy with inside joke.

He knew the joke. It was him! The girl with the beautiful eyes made him into a damn joke, when she blurted out about his eyes. His heart ran wildly as he thought about it. 

He gritted his teeth as he wiped the China dish. How he wished he could break one or two of them, just to soothe this anger, and the helplessness.

Who was she? What was she doing here? And what the hell was she talking about?

His eyes? Beautiful? No one had ever said that to him. Not even his girlfriend had called his eyes beautiful and she had made him feel like a dumb fool as he sat there, choking on water.

She had laughed then, and even though she was laughing at him, he loved the sound of her voice. 

Oh, Aurora's eyes were so beautiful, too, so beautiful like a ocean on the shimmering sun rays, even though they were his nightmares.

He wanted to scream, he wanted to barf, and he wanted to smile and laugh and sing. 

It was a cluster of confusing emotions, and that was what made him so angry. Not the fact that she had said something like that in front of their family, but that he gave some damn to what she had said and that he had liked it secretly. 

"Your eyes –"

"Mom, cut it out, or I am not helping you." He said as he let the towel go, chanted softly and the towel floated around his mom before he made it fall over her head. She gave him a glare as she swatted the towel away from her head.   

"But I've never seen you flush so red, Art. You looked cute." She smiled and turned away from him. Art rubbed his neck as he waited for his mom to pass the dishes. He was helping his mom dry the dishes, or mostly helping her with his magick. 

The doorbell rang and Art's body went taught. "That must be Aurora bringing Kristy back. Ask her in." His mom said in a sweet voice. Art gave her a suspicious look.

 

"Why? She was just here an hour ago." He scowled at his mom. "What is this game, mother?"

He mumbled, and she shook her head as if she didn't have any hope left for him.

"Momma, I am back. Me and Rory... we played. She is amazing. She is my friend." Art let out a relieved sigh when Kristy walked in, babbling about Aurora. Thank God, his father had opened the damn door, and thank God, the second time, that his dad didn't invite the perplexing girl in.

"Rory and I." His mom corrected and he rolled his eyes. Like Kristy needed grammar at six! Parents!

"And she said Art's eyes are beautiful-" She looked at him, her brown eyes so wide and curious, "Does that mean they will marry each other? Have kids?"

Six? This kid wasn't Six. No kid of six should talk like this.

He glared at his little sister and scowled at his mom, who was laughing like she had just heard a wonderful joke. "Shut up, it is not funny. And no, Kristen, just because she said my eyes are beautiful doesn't mean we will get married and have kids." He explained to the little midget menace. She was already a firecracker.

"But I like Rory." Kristy whined and rolled her eyes. 

"Then you can marry her." He stomped away, feeling idiotic and childish. But what the hell, how could he stay sane when his whole family wanted him to marry Aurora and have kids! What the heck was that!

And how the hell could he stay calm, when his heart banged like a deranged drum whenever she was mentioned!?

What the hell is this weird feeling? What is this tingle pausing through his body whenever he looked at her? 

He didn't understand anything about that and that scared him. He grabbed his books of spells and stated reading, just to get her out of his head. He almost succeeded until he remembered her lips... and the smile in her plump, beautiful lips and the books from the bookrack started to float. 

'Oh, shit. This is going to be a disaster.' He said as he closed his palms and shook his head, not thinking about her. The books fell, one after another, with soft thuds. 

***

(Lyka)

"I miss this, I miss this town." Lyka said as they reached Coven Groves, Illinois. The town was secluded, away from noise and pollution and everything else. It was a tiny place, and once the place was full of only witches and wizards with powerful magick. And then they had died, and their magick mostly died along until only very few remained. 

The town was full of tall, jade trees, small shops and ancient buildings. It was beautiful, it was peaceful, and the peace was going to be disrupted, soon. It made her angry, angry at the bastard who wanted death and destruction.

Why was fate this cruel, this blind?

The darkness he was going to bring along would make this cheerful place dull and gloomy.

Death would suffocate the place, and people would either die or sell their soul or be trapped inside the voices of their mind and go crazy.

It would be a dreadful event, full of loss and blood and darkness. She hated it, she hated the fact that only two kids could stop that from happening, stop the snake-like being from swallowing the world with its darkness. She had spent hundred years trying to find another way to end him, but she had failed in every attempt.

Finally she gave up – deep down, she knew all her researches, all her attempts would fail– and so she had waited and had tried to find a way to help the kids. She wrote a book for Aurora and Art, to know more about the evil sorcerer. She had collected magical artifacts they could use in the battle and other magical things that might help them.

Well, they weren't exactly kids, but they were kids to her. The blood of her two of the closest friends ran in them. Her friends had once lost their love, and the battle.

Would these two find their path, fulfill their destiny? Would they have enough strength to face him, and his blackness?

"Lyka, stop thinking too much. We will make sure they live, okay? We will do everything in our power to help and protect them. Our magick maybe rusty, but we are still powerful, and we have the power of the light. We are protected and they will be protected, too." Shalom said, his eyes solemn.

He was always solemn. Years and years of life, endless, torturous life, seeing the death of loved ones, one after the other, could make one somber.

"I didn't want to think about it, but I can't stop it. Stop my thoughts." She stopped and steered the car as she noticed a bend in the road. "Would Théoden smell us? Would he come out from wherever the hell he is hiding?" Lyka asked as she braked the car and looked at the bend where their turn would take deeper into the town. The woods were full of hidden secrets and darkness that hung around the place like heavy rain clouds.

"He will come, may be today, or he will take his time. He would hatch some plan, he would be just as desperate as us. This is his only chance, as well."

"That is what makes me edgy." She said as she turned left and stopped in front of a motel. It was small, but the exterior was clean. "This would do."

"What are we here for again?" Shalom asked as he got down from the car.

"Rich couples enjoying time out." Lyka told him with a glare in his direction. The man might be the most powerful wizard, but his memory was made of... clay.

"Sounds very swanky compared to why we really are here." Shalom said wih a smile. 

"So do you want to tell them that we are here to fight a two hundred- and fifty-year-old sorcerer of darkness, who worships the devil, and is thirsting to rule the world with his black sword?"

"Absolutely. That would simplify things."

"Shut up, and follow me." Lyka grunted and stepped outside the car and entered the motel. Shalom followed her.

The motel was neat and cozy, with a small reception area in the front. The iron stairs were ornate, so was the beautiful chairs swanking an antique table.

A small tea lamp stood at the rack, along with few potteries. There was a flower vase at the side of the reception desk, and she knew where to find the carved snakes – she looked up at the ceiling and smiled. It was polished, redecorated, changed from hands to hands, but it was the same one she had visited years ago.

"Hi, how may I help you two?" A woman smiled a wrinkly smile. She looked so soft, so fragile.

"A room please for two. For six months."

The old lady's eyes widened and then gleamed after she had calculated the money in her mind. Her smile said that she appreciated the business.

"Sure. But six month is a long time."

"We wanted to enjoy a long vacation in some place nice and quiet."

"Welcome." As the woman asked their name, wrote it in an old-fashioned register that was so yellowed with time-it looked older than the woman-and handed them the key, Lyka felt the chill in the air.

The air raged outside, swirling hurricane of sand and dust, bringing sand particles inside the windows. The woman frowned at the sudden change in the weather, and she wiped her face. Lyka told the woman to go inside and lock the doors. 

Shalom nodded and pointed his fingers discreetly towards the end of the road. There behind the trees, she found the familiar shadow of their old friend. Théoden, the black sorcerer who broke the promise of their clan, who broke all his words for the thirst of darkness and power. Who brought shadows into the white light. 

His ominous black eyes, the pit of empty promises and endless abyss gleamed gold in the outside. He was ugly, black lips, black, hollowed eyes, and curving fangs, but anyone who saw him now wouldn't have seen it. They would see a beautiful guy, with golden eyes and charisma and charm. He played well with the shadows, well with the mind.

The bastard was here to welcome them home. Of course. He would come. He couldn't resist. Lyka opened her hands and folded it outside and a spark hit him in his stomach. Lyka could hear him hiss in pain and anger. He snarled, his voice an angry shrill as he bared his teeth at her.

'Hello to you too, you evil bastard. We will see, won't we?'

___