Future Revelations

Chance

My Trainer, Arkarian, has never told me who my mother was. Or who my father was, for that matter. He only said that my mother was a beautiful and intelligent woman. And that I look just like her.

He never specified that my mother was dead or alive. He once told me that my father was indeed living, and that he was too stubborn to come forth—a trait that had rubbed off from my mother.

I once tried to locate my mum, by watching people pass by. I look for people with light blonde hair and brown eyes. Arkarian said that this was foolish, and that I might be under suspicion if I did it any longer.

Arkarian does talk about a woman frequently, though. He calls her Isabel. He said that she was once his wife, and that sixteen years ago, she died. He won't tell me how she died, but by the look in his eyes, I see that he loved her very much.

I wonder if my father loved my mother as much as Arkarian loves Isabel. But I guess he didn't if he hasn't come and taken me, their only son. Arkarian, sitting beside me, hears this thought and frowns. But why would he? I just paid him a compliment.

"You cannot measure love, Chance," Arkarian says softly, his violet eyes glinting. "Sometimes people do things because of love, and though they may seem mean at the time, it is all for the best." He pauses. "My own father never told me that he was mine, until only thirty years ago."

"Wow! But aren't' you almost seven hundred?"

He nods. "Before he died, he once told me that because I didn't have my mother, it would be better if I were independent. Having a father figure alone wouldn't make up for a mother."

I can't help but blurt out. "That doesn't make sense, though. I mean, I would love my father as much as I would my mother, and I'm sure he would do a good job taking care of me."

Arkarian's eyes let drip a few tears. Was it because he had mentioned his dead father?

"Go on to your room, Chance," he said, referring to the small room he had given me for housing. He had taken care of me after my mother died. "Training is done for today. Please let me be."

"I'm sorry for bringing it up, Arkarian." I say this as I march to my room, fingering the only thing I owned of my mother's: the necklace made with her engagement and wedding ring.


Arkarian

Chance was my son. I knew this through and through. I was the one who helped give him life. The one that took care of his mother, Isabel, through her hard nine months. I was the one to watch as his tiny jaws screamed his first intake of breath.

But I was also the one to watch his mother die with him in her arms.

Isabel had a long labor. Neriah, who had been her midwife, had said that she was having pains too extreme for normal childbirth. Isabel's body had gotten so used to not having pain through her healing skill, that when faced with the condition, her body couldn't handle it.

I guess that having a pain-free life results in a pain-filled death.

At first I couldn't handle it. Neriah and Matt took care of Chance while I removed all of Isabel's things from our chambers. If I didn't see her, then I wouldn't be reminded of her. I never gave Chance a last name, for if I did, it would cause me even more grief.

This is selfish, I know, but it was for the best.

Those first few months alone, I couldn't bear it. The silence that filled the house was frightening. Her usual talk that would keep me through the day. Or her laugh that would brighten up any dark mood, was gone. Always, will I be the only one left in our bed. I will be forever haunted and chilled in the night, without her by my side. My lips will never kiss another, and shall be still until the day I die.

Thoughts of suicide were a daily thing. If I couldn't be with her in life, then why not death? But, a single thought was what kept me from doing the unthinkable: my son, Chance.

The day that I took him in was the day that I vowed never to let him know his true parentage. For one, it kept me from discussing my lost love. He would want to know about his mother, how beautiful she was, how stubborn. And bringing up that topic might put me again in my state of depression.

Second, I would prefer him not to think of his quarter-Immortal heritage. I thought that he would take it to his head, and try to do things not yet in his reach. That small amount of power in him in so great, he doesn't even know.

So, a year after his birth, on his first birthday, I took Chance back into his real home. As a present, I gave him a necklace. On the single gold chain were his mother's rings, the only thing I had kept of her.

The first few months were hard. Chance had gotten used to Neriah's arms around him, and had to get used to my own. This thought sometimes made me mad that my own child had been cared for by someone else, but I know that it was a selfish thought.

By his second birthday, I knew exactly how to take care of him.

Once, he called me "Daddy". And as much as I wanted him to, I had to reply. "No, Chance. I am not your father." I remember the small tears he had wept.

"Then who is my daddy?" his five-year-old self had then asked. I gave him no reply, but just asked him to go get ready for school.

School was one of the things that I had to adjust to. Once again being alone for hours of the day, I honestly couldn't. Ethan, now almost old and gray, used to come and sit with me during these times. Of course, I could never show up at Chance's school, due to my physical appearance, so Neriah and Matt were his "parents."

He started his Apprenticeship at age ten, when he first showed having signs of a skill. The first one to show up was control over plants. I remember how proud I was when I first watched him stick a baby seed into a pot of dirt and had it grow to a full-bloomed plant in a minute.

Chance's second skill was that of water. He could summon up a rain cloud, or dry up a lake. He could purify the dirtiest sea water with his mind. I knew that his strong skills had been given to him by his Immortal grandfather.

My son was a patient Apprentice. It was about this time that he started questioning about his parents. I told him that he was an orphan. That his mother was unable to take care of him, and that his father wasn't ready to own up to fathership.

For, although I was being one, I still wasn't ready for him to call me 'Father.' Chance saw me as a really good friend, and provider, but I still wasn't ready to be a parent.

I am amazed at myself, watching him grow. He is more and more like his mother everyday. Sometimes I look at a picture of her, and am marveled at the resemblance. Not only physically, but personality-wise.

I know that one day, perhaps years from now, Chance will want answers out straight. No games, no tricks. And hopefully, that is when I will be able to tell my son the truth.


Chance

Arkarian died, when I was eighteen. I was there when it happened. An Order member had pierced him through the heart with a blade. Arkarian's friend, Ethan, told me that it was the same dagger that some guy named Marduke once stabbed the girl Isabel with. Is that how she died?

The healers hadn't been able to get to him in time, and he passed away once the harsh battle was over. Ethan joked that the only healer that could have healed him was long gone, but I think it wasn't a funny joke. He also said that the battle had been a tough one, one not seen since the Prophecy was fulfilled. Arkarian had died a hero.

In the base of the mountain, there lay three statues. One, was a memorial and grave to Rochelle Thallimar, the destined one who died for the Guard years ago. Ethan seemed to spend a lot of time there, but he never fully explained why.

The second, is a tribute to the Immortals, Lorian and Lathenia, the two siblings that had killed each other. The last and final statue is the one everyone is crowded around now. It is the one that all these years contained the body of Isabel.

Arkarian had put in his emergency will, (he hadn't expected to die), that he wanted to be buried in the same coffin as his deceased wife. He wanted to be with her, and not even a box could contain that.

Isabel's body was powerfully reserved by Dartemis, the remaining Immortal. This meant that we saw a perfect corpse when they switched her body to the double coffin, meant to take her and Arkarian. She had long, blonde hair that fell across the pillow in waves. Her eyes were closed, but in her preserved state, it appeared as though she were only sleeping.

I watch as Matt, her brother, it is said, gently lifts her up, and places her in her new resting place. Arkarian is already in it, seated to her left. Tears fall from my own face, as Ethan gently reaches over and places her hand in his. All is done, and it is time to rebury.

Dartemis himself is the one who delivers a speech. "Arkarian will always been known as the blue-haired, violet-eyed, anti-aging half-Immortal that helped run the Guard. But even more than that, he will be known as the one who has loved dearly. His wife, Isabel, is the one who lay beside him. We know of the dangers she endured just to be with him.

"Arkarian had secrets, those almost all of us knew. But he kept them hidden in good thought and reason. Though I fear, now, when he has gone, those secrets shall be revealed.

"But now, we lay him down. For his eternal slumber in this world, and the journey into mine is taking place. Arkarian now leaves the world of the living, and enters the world of the dead. He and Isabel shall be reunited once more, and wait for their sole heir to rightfully join them."

Dartemis waves a hand in the air above the casket, and door to it swings down. It slowly descends into the large hole made for its arrival. Everyone, including me, lets the tears fall freely, though I am slightly puzzled by the speech made.

Hours later, Ethan comes up to me alone. We are back in Arkarian's chambers, and are sitting, still in grief. "Are you going to go through his stuff soon?" He asks. I reply that I didn't know it was my job. "Of course," he laughs. "Arkarian left it all to you, the only person he cared for after Isabel. It's rightfully yours to keep or get rid of as you please."

I really don't want to do it alone, so I ask him if he would do it with me. He agrees, and we meet up the next day in Arkarian's old room. Although I lived there all of my life, I never had really gone into his room, except for when I was little, and had nightmares.

His bed had been neatly made, most likely by Neriah, who had come over to take care of me. It was just like it was when he was alive, straight, yet messy at the same time. Ethan, behind me, leads me over to Arkarian's dresser drawers, and says that maybe I should start there. There is a slight twinkle in his eye, but I ignore it and start.

The first thing I come to is his clothes. Nice, neatly folded rows of shirts, shorts, and pants line the first five drawers. The last drawer contains no clothes, however, but a large brown box.

I dig it out, and lay it on the bed. To my surprise, it contains photos. Picture after picture of different stages of my life are before me, the first on the pile. One of me on my first bike. One of me on my first day of school. Another of me when I first showed my skill. Funnily, enough I had never seen Arkarian with a camera.

In the middle of the stack are pictures of me as a baby. First in Arkarian's arms, then in Neriah's and Matt's. But one picture strikes my attention. It is of me, in a blue baby blanket, in woman's arms. But all I can see are her hands, one of which is housing the rings I have come to know.

Pulling the necklace off my neck, I can tell the exactness of the rings. The woman holding me was definitely my mother; she had on my mother's wedding rings. Does this mean that Arkarian really did know my mother? Why would he keep this from me?

I dig on, and see pictures of my Trainer himself. But it is the one of his wedding that catches my eye. Again, I see the two rings on my necklace, though in this photo, one if being slipped on a woman's finger. I take a second to observe this lady.

She has blonde hair, and is looking at the camera. Just by her facial features and hair, I can tell that this is Isabel, the body I had seen the day before. It is her eyes that give away everything.

The brown eyes tell me all I need to know. Though I wish he would have told me, Arkarian had been my father, and the girl Isabel, had been my mother.

I can't help but cry as Ethan looks over and asks me what's wrong.


Arkarian

I can remember the intense pain of the dagger in my heart. The vision I had wasn't perfect, as I was slowly dying. Chance is in my eyesight, his own eyes wide with panic. I can feel some people moving toward me, probably the newly trained Healers, but I know that nothing can save me now.

After that, I remember minutes of darkness. I know that I was supposed to be in Dartemis' realm of the dead soon. I would be joining Sera, Rochelle, my father, and of course, Isabel. My emotional self leaps with joy, for although life on earth is done for me, I soon shall be with my wife again.

She is waiting for me, once I see light once again. Dartemis once told me that our souls need to adjust to seeing again. She is clad in a long, white gown, and her blond hair spills over her shoulders. Her brown eyes are shining with love, as she laughs and runs toward me.

I feel so happy as she is in my arms again. I have waited eighteen long years to be lost in her touch again. No happiness on Earth can amount to the joy I am feeling right now. She pulls back slightly, and runs her hands through my hair. It feels good on my scalp.

"I missed you, my darling." Those are the first words she says to me in this state. Her tears run around her face, and I hastily wipe them away. "But I didn't realize that you would be here so soon."

I give her another embrace, smelling her scent, same from when she was alive. "I missed you, too. And I know, it wasn't expected. But it was my time to leave the Earth."

She laughs a bit, then gets serious. "How is everyone? Matt? Ethan? Chance?" I reply with everyone is fine, but am a bit hesitant about telling her of Chance's ignorance. "It was for the best, I know. You couldn't handle it, Arkarian. And I don't blame you one bit."

Isabel presses her lips to mine, and I feel like I am going to burst open with love. "I could tell that you've waited for that, sweetheart," she jokes when we are broken apart. "And honestly, I have, too."

She turns around, taking my hand in hers. "Come on, love. Let's go to the place that Dartemis prepared for us. Though, by the looks of it, our son won't be here for awhile." I march along, trailing her, as my beautiful wife finally takes me home.


Author's Note:

I do believe that is good work, for only an hour's worth of writing. Yep. Though, my brother was giving me weird looks as I was crying over this. Anywho, I am pretty sure I got at least something wrong, so please review and let me know!