Chapter 1 (c): A Thomas Kinkade Painting (...Contd)

"Ow…" he winced feeling everything hurt.

"My sentiments exactly", a whispered groan reached him, before a piercing shriek shocked him and the other person into action, they stood up quickly and turned, only to stop short to see a young woman, short as all hell get out, clutching her towel-clad body with one hand, and the other gripping her own envelope and letter tightly.

She was Asian by descent probably Chinese or Japanese or Korean, who knew? Her hair fell as if mimicking a curtain, shielding her skyclad tiny figure from further perusal, she shivered weakly, eyeing them both warily.

Rinzen moved before he registered what he was doing, shrugging off his jacket, he draped it over her shoulders and she looked up and nodded gratefully.

His companion cursed and quickly unwrapped the thick woolen scarf around his neck, and handed it to her, and "You can use it as a scarf or a skirt", he explained quietly, his voice cultured and definitely not American.

"Where the hell are we?" a woman asked from behind them and all three of them looked up to see a beautiful redhead standing where they landed, she dusted off her long skirt and straightened her blouse, "And who are you?" she asked curiously, blue eyes glittering as the light caught it.

Rinzen stopped his companion from answering, "It's customary and good manners to introduce yourself before you demand other people's names, and I don't know who you are, there's no way I'm giving you my name", he answered tightly.

Turning back to the towel-clad woman he ignored the other three people who watched them. "Hey, maybe use the towel as a skirt, zip up the jacket over the scarf, like a makeshift tube top?" he suggested and then forced the other guy to turn around with him, backing her up to a large planter and shielding her effectively, from everyone's sight.

"Who the hell made you the boss?" the redhead demanded.

"Common sense", he answered rolling his eyes, turning to the man beside him, he ignored her effectively, causing her to harrumph, "Hi, nice to meet you. That was really sweet of you, offering your scarf like that", he praised quietly.

The boy was shorter than him, with crisp blonde hair, a golden tanned complexion, startling blue eyes. The poster child for an all-American boy-next-door look, and a smile that could light up a football field, he offered it sheepishly.

"Honestly I just copied you, and I, unfortunately, am not wearing anything extra", he said and pointed down at his clothes, a simple T-shirt and boardwalk shorts.

"I wasn't prepared either, but thank God, I'm at least wearing pajamas", one of the other girls said, walking past the redhead and stopping in front of him and his companion, her voice was equally accented identifying her as another foreigner.

"I was wearing sweats too then decided to stop being lazy and covered in chip dust, took a shower, and came back to find this on my bed", he muttered lifting the envelope and letter.

"Did you read the Latin words too? 'Return home'?" she asked curiously.

"Latin?" he asked, "No mine were Runes. Old Norse Runes", he answered showing her his letter.

Blinking down at the paper she shook her head, "I can't read that, it's all blurry", she answered his unspoken question.

She lifted her own letter and he hummed;

"Magic, blood magic, we're being shielded from each other", he muttered quietly.

"Agreed", she said, "Which would also explain why we can understand each other", she muttered.

"You're not speaking English", he stated.

She shook her head, "No sorry", she answered, "I would try, but I learned enough to hold my own in case of an emergency, but I'm not fluent", she answered quietly.

"What I'd like to know is, if we all received this letter, why and who did send it", the only other male asked.

"Or whether they even know we're here", the final person said.

"They already know we're here!"

Rinzen, the skyclad girl, the man beside him, the redhead,and the pajama-wearing girl answered in unison.

"How would you even know that?" the redhead asked.

Rinzen stared at her, "You agreed with me", he pointed out exasperated, and then because she was glaring at him as if he were the second coming of the Anti-Christ, he sighed heavily and decided to answer her, else they'd just be going in circles;

"We, the seven of us, were transported from across the globe, from several different cities and counties and independent islands and sanctuaries. We're all eighteen more or less, we've transported into a room, a foyer of some kind", he corrected,

"That's been marked by sigils, runes, glyphs, wards. Latin spell work and a bunch of other occult symbols like elemental symbols, lunar symbols, there's a triquetra in each cardinal point and about three to four other symbols I can see but can't make out—sorry I don't have owl sight—we're about as caged as prisoners on death row. We all landed with a lot of noise", he reminded her, "A person who's warded his home, this strongly, would notice if a feather landed here. We're seven people, personally, I'm one hundred and fifty-eight pounds, I landed hard enough, I felt the impact if the sensations through my funny bone can be trusted, believe me, they know we're here", he answered rolling his eyes.

"Wards?" The skyclad asked.

"Glyphs?" His companion asked.

"Runes?" The pajama-clad girl asked.

"Uh yes", he answered warily.

"I can only see the runes", the redhead stated biting her thumb worried.

"Likewise, but in my case, I can only see the Latin words", pajamas spoke up.

"Glyphs", the skyclad answered.

"Wards", Scarf-guy said.

"I can't see any of that, I can only feel a lot of magic in the air", the man who'd first placed the question stated.

"I can see the elements", their last companion spoke up, "And like him", they pointed at the Last Man, "I can feel the magic or power in the room", they said warily.

"So then the question is are we hostages or have we been abducted", scarf guy asked.

"I don't think we've been abducted", the skyclad answered. "We wouldn't have been invited if we were hostages of some kind of nefarious plot", she answered quietly, stepping out from beyond the large planter.

Rinzen whistled, "Nicely done", he cheered.

The skyclad grinned, "All thanks to the two of you", she answered politely.

Rinzen smirked as Scarf guy blushed but accepted her gratitude with grace, she'd taken his advice with a grain of salt and then some, and had added a bit of feminine flair to it. The towel had been draped around her torso, she'd used a hair tie to pull it into the front and looped it and tied it around her back, he guessed, given that she was wearing his jacket.

The scarf had been turned into a pair of shorts, with 'do it yourself' instinct only a girl would know, he'd have to figure out how that worked later.

The skyclad girl moaned then;

"I was about to have dinner", she muttered wincing as her stomach grumbled.

"Likewise", at least three people answered her, the redhead added, "I'm hungry", she muttered.

Rinzen nodded; "Why don't we go look for a kitchen or at least a dining room", he muttered.

"Would it be wise to step out of this area?" The skyclad asked.

"We can't just stand here and act like cowards, I'd rather be classified a delinquent than being considered a lazy person", Rinzen huffed, "Any way you can stay here, I plan on doing a little investigating", he answered honestly.

"You're such a busy body", the redhead huffed irritated.

"Sure", he agreed and then with an, equally irritated roll of his eyes, ignored her and pocketed the letter and envelope each in different pockets, instinctively knowing unless the letter was inside the envelope, he'd be thrown around the room, some more, or worse. He moved then to his left.

"O-Oi…" Scarf guy called out, "Where are you going?" he asked baffled.

"Exiting stage left", he answered cheekily.

Scarf guy rolled his eyes, "You're a regular old comedian aren't you", he huffed following him, "There's something I need to ask you. Oh my Gods will you wait!" he huffed and jogged to catch up with the brunette.

"Wait!"

Rinzen paused and the skyclad turned around and looked up,

"I'm going to go with them", she answered, and "I trust him more than I trust you right now", she answered her unspoken questions.

Rinzen raised a brow at her words.

The redhead glared, "I haven't done anything to you", the redhead grumbled scandalized.

"But you've been attacking someone in a similar situation just because you don't understand him, that already tells me more than I want to know, about the type of person you are", she stated simply and then turned to follow the previous two out.

"You know, I'm in agreement with those three, you've been attacking him and everyone else, it's not fair of you to do that", the Last man said and the other person nodded as well.

"I'm just… I—don't make me the enemy here", she stamped her foot peeved—actually stamped her foot.

Rinzen cleared his throat and sighed, "Come on, we're in a huge building, looks like a manor of sorts, a little exploring can be healthy", he said and offered her his hand, smiling gently at her.

The redhead paused and then took a step forward; she took his hand and blushed weakly, "I didn't mean to be rude, I was just…"

"Overwhelmed, I understand that", he stated easily.

Nodding she let go of his hand and went to stand next to the others, "Where would you reckon we are?" she asked curiously.

"I'm from Ireland", she said quietly.

Rinzen nodded that explained the accent, "American", he answered her honestly.

"Japan", The skyclad answered.

"England", The Scarf guy answered.

"France", the Last Man answered.

"India", the pajama-clad girl answered.

"Germany", the seventh person answered.

"Are you fluent in English?" he asked the redhead, most translation spells only worked to a certain degree, or at least in a certain place, and since they'd moved out of the foyer, he wondered if the magic was still working.

"Not even remotely, I don't use it a lot, our language is Irish or Celtic-Gaelic", she answered, "Obviously", she teased, "Granted there are many that speak English, but my family is a little… orthodox", she finally answered.

The Japanese nodded, "I understand that very well, it's not that I don't speak English, I just don't have a clear grasp on it like most normal English-speaking people do. My family believes languages have magic in them too, and one's attention should only be to their own mother tongue", she answered, "However I speak English, just not easily", she answered quietly.

"I'm English, so I have no problem with the language but I think the problem is my accent", he answered.

"The English accent is sexy though", the redhead answered.

"So is the Irish", Scarfy stated, "But I know a lot of Americans and Londoners' getting confused with what I say", he stated simply.

"I speak English too, but the problem Like Mr. English is my accent too", the German answered.

"I speak Punjabi and English, but it's true my English is sketchy too", Pajamas answered quietly.

"American accents are confusing too", Rinzen answered, "At least I'm guessing", he muttered mostly to himself.

"They are", the Frenchman answered laughing, "I met an American pair in Paris once on a holiday with my mother when I was twelve, I think, I didn't understand a word he said, he ate half the syllables and replaced words with English sounding words, but that made no sense in an ordinary sentence. He was asking us, well his wife more than him, for a restaurant, she kept saying things like 'You have my Tha' and 'a place for a good nosh' and then some words that I couldn't remember even if I tried", he answered almost confused despite it being a memory.

"That probably was a New Yorker you met", Rinzen answered him, "They do have a rather odd way of speaking", he agreed amused.

"Can I ask you my question now?" Scarfy asked.

"Sure Scarfy", he answered automatically.

"Scarfy?! Oi!" he huffed, "Speaking of, why did you stop me from telling you my name?" he asked curiously.

"Names have power", he answered, "According to 'The Law of Names'; knowledge of a true name allows one to affect another person or being, magically. It is stated that knowing someone's, or something's True name, therefore, gives the person (who knows the true name) power over them", he answered at length.

"Exactly", a mysterious voice answered startling nearly all of them.

*

TBC...

(Word Count: 2052)