Chapter 8: The Trouble and the Theory 

Flight 0614. Davao bound to Manila. 12:45 pm. Betty wrapped little Mark with her scarf. Mark had a fever. 

People were watching them. Someone gave her a bottle of water and the attending flight personnel gave her a tablet. For goodness sake! Betty cursed. She forgot the tablets and the pills! She already rummaged through her belongings. Her medical kits were out of the bag. Now, everyone knows that she's a doctor who forgot the first-aid tablets. 

"Your son will be just alright," a mother came over to her seat. 

She just smiled and answered, "He's not my son." Good thing, the women left and did not say anything more. 

Outside, the weather was quite strange. It was a beautiful day when they left Davao - the sun was up and the skies were crystal clear. Maybe just 20 minutes later, the plane was flying into dark clouds avoiding the hell-crazy storm. Plus, there was lightning. 

She had her plane. The Villanuevas had properties that some found difficult to fathom. But she had to teach little Mark with humble beginnings. Now, she started to worry. An hour passed, Mark had a fever! And, she forgot the medicines. 

Panic-stricken. “Is it the feeling of motherhood?” she asked herself. Down below, she could feel the relief of walking back on solid grounds. Iloilo was just a city down below. 

Relief was about to comfort her but just a second lapsed, a great hit struck them. The airplane shook and every passenger gasped. Sitting next to a window, Betty could see that the right-wing was hit by lightning.

"Emergency landing. Please follow instructions . . . " a voice on the radio announced the captain. 

Attendants started to assist passengers with the safety procedures. The air was getting denser and the plane was dropping in high altitude. Betty did not hear everything with the commotion. She placed the oxygen mask on Mark before she wore it herself. The place was descending - gravity pulling them down. 

"Landing impacts on 10, 9, 8 . . ." Betty closed her eyes and embraced little Mark tighter. ". . . 5, 4, 3, 2, 1." She closed her eyes and the last thing she remembered was a loud crash and shrieking of the crowd before she passed out. Mark was resting on her arms, regardless of his high-spike fever. 

Just as he predicted, it did not take long before the vampires would know. The glimpses on the other side of the veil had stopped. For a time, the skies were peaceful. But now, a strange storm was ravaging. 

Albert saw it. The airplane was struck by lightning and it crashed somewhere in the forest of Los Barrios. From his seat, he transformed into his werewolf form. He knew that he's scaring some of the Night Children already. But, he's furious by how the vampires took advantage. 

"The Vampires are making the rituals," he muttered out. "They were traitors of our kind!" 

"You have to make a move now," Kristina told him. "Miranda is hot and boiling. She would not let anything pass just like this." 

"We'll gather tonight," Albert said. "We are not going to hunt. We'll help these humans." 

"Why?" Kristina asked. "It's an opportunity for every one of us." 

"Are you serious about that, Kristina?" Albert asked, his eyes crawling out from his sockets in anger. "If we do that, how different are we from them?" 

"We are the Night Children, Albert," she said. "We search for the same things." 

"We need to set boundaries and discipline in those cases. Not because it's available, we'll take it. We have respect and integrity too." 

He howled. Thrice - to announce the gathering. "We'll offer shelter. We'll offer food until their human protectors come around."

"You are a great leader, Albert, and I love you for that. But be careful. Not only snakes have venoms."

She reached out and kissed him on the cheeks. "I will support you, as always," she smiled and then turned. "I’ll be back at twilight." 

"Where are you going?" 

"I am a lady too, Albert," Kristina said. "I have some business to attend to." 

"Like what?"

Kristina paused and turned to face him. She swayed her hips and, in a flirty way, she pouted her lips, eyes questioning. "May I ask you, Albert? How long have you been with a woman?"

He was caught off guard by the question that he dried up of words. Kristina burst out laughing.

"Think about it," she told him and left. 

"When has it been?" he asked himself. 

"She did not leave her palace," Samson, the Builder, reported to Jason for the third time. 

Samson had been the only one to accompany her for three days now. Elena requested him to do some secret household chores. He could not tell it though. Elena might have put a protective spell on whatever secret she was doing inside. 

Jason smiled secretly. She's mastering her skill. She's learning. 

"Thank you, Samson," Jason said. "I'll go there myself. Tonight."

"She said not to welcome anyone."

"Don't worry about that," Jason said. 

After his appointment as headmaster and Rudolf's escape, Elena did not stay outside the Time Palace anymore. The Time Palace was telling her something. He could feel it was alive. Blood calls to blood. Elena deserved more. Someone should be with her. 

He went to the pantry and prepared Elena's favorite. Back in the human world, Elena always preferred salads - a bowl of rice, three sliced tomatoes, a boiled egg, and a slice of ripe mangoes. He brought a bottle of wine too. 

He willed himself to Elena's location. However, how easy it might sound to do before, that night, the furthest Jason could go was at the front door of the Palace - at the ground entrance. 

He smiled, after a deep sigh, and walked through the wide hallway and the stairs. A room opened. It was the cue. He entered. 

"That's impressive, El," he commended. "I thought you also forgot to talk with people.” 

He walked towards the open space and placed the food on top of a free table. 

"You troubled yourself by bringing food," El said, never bothering to look at the newcomer. 

"I could not stop thinking of you," he told her and walked towards her working table.

"What are these for?" 

Different kinds of paper were placed carefully on the top of the table. Each had a picture of these animals if you could call them that. At the far right end of the room, a big sand-time there. However, it was not like the usual timer. There were spheres like rotating planets. Each of the spheres had sands - some had been full and some had just been filled up. 

On the floor, there were shattered glasses and sand. 

"I'm still studying. I couldn't explain it to you now except this - my theory of time." 

Elena walked around these floating objects - the glass spheres, the shattered glasses, sands, and rocks. "All that floats are dimensions alive. Those who did not float are dead."

"Dead dimensions," Jason repeated. "How's that possible?"

"If you lose your substance, you lose your time. If you don't have time, you are already dead - same with other dimensions." 

"What are these objects standing for?" he asked. 

"Spheres for worlds, sand for time. Past, the sand is already inside. Falling, sand is present. The future is still unknown though you know it will come. The rock, the shattered pieces, the floating sand were remnants of an old-world, creating dimensions and divisions. When the sphere gets full, if the past won't dissolve and be part of that world - add to the thickness and growth - the sphere would explode. The remnants would be there. It would linger until the time would not have value to them. If they no longer have it, they stop floating and it goes down below - to oblivion – to a great vastness of nothingness."

"Interesting," Jason remarked. "So what do you think of our world?"

He climbed to the center stage and looked around the room. Elena was indeed busy. He waited for her answer; however, Elena was already lost in her thoughts. She wrote it down in her journal and proceeded to the table where he placed the food. 

"Wow!" she exclaimed. "You have never forgotten my preference."

Like a hungry hog, she took the rice bowl and consumed it as fast as she could. Jason watched her with full amazement until she finished eating. 

"You never changed," Jason commented, while never leaving the made-up world that Elena tried to decipher. 

"Why should I change?" Elena asked back, wiping her hands. "I like myself much better when I am me." 

"That's why I love you," Jason said. Now, his attention was directed to her - the object of his affection. "You never said you love me back." 

Elena looked at him - her sincere eyes were full of confidence. She was weighing her decisions. 

"I like you, Jason," Elena said. "But love is a whole different thing." 

Elena walked back to what she'd been doing before. She looked at each picture. "What are you trying to understand?" Jason asked her, referring to the pictures.

"I don't know," she answered flatly. "But I want to understand the connection of Headmaster Rudolf to the Phoenix. How did you know?" 

She faced him. His grace was desirable. He's tempted. But he tried to focus on the present. "I happened to pass by his room," he answered directly. That was the truth, indeed. "Besides, I already have my suspicions." 

"You have?" she clarified. "How come?" 

"He cast a spell to put against us," Jason answered. "He's an Arium and he could manipulate the mind. I could not think of anyone else." 

"Hmm," Elena cleared her throat. 

"What does that mean?" he asked back. 

"Something is amiss. I could feel it but I could not still figure it out," Elena put down her ring on the table. It only meant one thing - she's done for the night. 

"I've been wondering," Jason started, and continued, ". . . where were you sleeping in the past three nights?" 

Elena unlaced her magician's robe. She was wearing the traditional green silk. It slowly uncovered her. He already saw her naked. The Bath was magnificent but specials should be cherished.

Her black hair looked silky matching her pale skin. She was only covered by her lingerie. She walked towards him, pulled him slowly by the waist, and kissed him gently on the lips. 

"I could show you where I sleep," she whispered. 

Betty woke up to the sound of crying. She fainted and she was disoriented. Where am I? She wondered. 

Renu never had so many of these cries even if an operation did not go successfully. She turned and a stabbing pain reminded her of the accident. 

The plane crashed down! 

Mark! 

Adrenaline kicked. Regardless of the pain, she climbed out of the broken seats through the open window, never releasing the bundle she was carrying. 

When she's out in the field, she carefully checked him. Mark still had the fever. But thank heavens! He's safe. He had minor scraps, but he'll survive. He just needed some rest. 

Betty checked herself. She had a dislocated arm. Seeing that she did not have much choice, she placed Mark in front of her and forced her arm to align. 

"Urghhh!" she grunted as she heard the bone aligned. Heaving, she picked up Mark again and tried to gain control of her surroundings. 

Someone approached her. She remembered the mother who sat next to her. "Please, doctor," the woman said. "My daughter."

The mother cried. Betty was confused. Betty had curly hair which she tightly kept in a bun during medical emergencies. She always wanted to make her medical scrub fit her complexion. She always wanted to do all operations on Renu. Now, would she help these people? Everything did not meet even normal expectations. 

Never had she done it before. Outside Renu was dirty and she did not have any disinfectants and the kit was somewhere inside the crashed plane. 

The mother repeatedly called her doctor. Such a title! 

Like a flock hearing the word, she could not count who approached her. They were all dirty so was she. So many died due to bacteria and infection, and the smoke did not convince her to give any medical advice. But would she just allow them to suffer?

Little Mark coughed and this brought Betty to her present. She took Mark in her arms and faced the crowd. 

"I needed to make sure that everyone was okay. But first, we need to make a fire and set camp. The night will be here soon," she called out. She checked her phone. They did not have data. She looked around and could tell that they crashed in a remote forest seeing that there was no electricity post nearby. 

"Those who could help set camp for shelter please start head-on," Betty commanded, "Where's the captain?"

No one thought of the captain before. By the mention of it, someone checked the pilot's seat. "He's injured!" 

The men gathered anything to create some shelter and some women gathered woods to set fire. Betty did not release Mark until the camp was set and every injured was counted and given shelter - 28 with minor injuries, 22 with major ones, and 10 casualties and unnumbered missing persons somewhere in the forest. She placed Mark near her doctor's place; next to the pilot's. 

The pilot had lost some blood due to the bruise he earned on a direct hit on his knee. Good thing, they found him before he drained himself out. Given some time, maybe enough time for the rescue to find them, he'll recover consciousness. 

"The medicine is not enough so I would use basics and I need everyone's cooperation. If you have these for spare, please give them to those who need them. The forest is near and I am quite good at finding medicinal herbs for alternatives," she announced. "It is dark already and we don't know what's waiting for us here. So, we'll wait until the morning. For now, if you could share something, please do - even if it's just water." 

Betty retched at the smell. It was hopeless. They were hopeless. "I must apologize firsthand. I could not guarantee survival to those who were amputated. We need a hospital as soon as possible. Some of your loved ones may die tonight due to blood loss, or, by infection. I'm so sorry but I will do my best."  

She went back inside her made-up tent and checked on Mark. The fever was cooling off. She looked outside the camp. Some men sat by the campfire, taking caution in case of danger. There might be animals around. She felt the pang of hunger.  One of the men saw her looking at them. He walked towards her tent. 

“This is not much,” the man offered a wing of a bird they were cooking in the fire. “But it will do.” 

“Thank you,” Betty said and looked at Mark again. He’s still unconscious and it comforted her to see his heaves. 

“How old is he?” 

“Ten.” 

“My daughter's the same age.”

“Oh,” Betty said. “That’s great. 

“Children are best off with their mothers.” 

Betty chuckled. “I doubt that,” she argued. “I was best off with my father.” 

“Oh, you are a father’s daughter, huh?” he smiled. “I was too. But not for long.”

“Me either. Not for long.” 

“By the way, the name’s John,” the man said. “Please take good care of my buddy. His name is Philip,” he pointed to the captain. “Graduated the same year but his luck was more favorable than mine. I chose the wrong woman.”

“Geez!” Betty cursed. “What’s it about with a woman?” 

“A woman is powerful enough. It could destroy or build you. Mine was the former.” 

“And his?” 

“Well, he has not found her yet.” 

Betty laughed out loud. “That’s a good one.” 

“Anyway, I should be going and leave you with your peace,” John said. “Goodnight, doctor.” Betty waved back and looked at the two males lying next to her seat. “I haven’t found mine either but I’m good,” she told the unconscious pilot. 

She tried to rest her eyes for a second, then, unknowingly, the nap turned to sleep. 

The loud crash woke the entire forest and the vampires rejoiced at it. 

They waited for the sun to set and they’d come to harvest. The smell of blood perfumed the air and the cries of agony and death were melody to their ears. 

She’s ready until she finds him - the black figure on the wall shadowing a werewolf. Through gritted teeth, Miranda screamed, “Albert!” 

Sensing it, the werewolf howled and a host of Night Children, in the darkness, stood on their posts.