The bearer
I do not own Giles or the basic idea of the story… Nothing is mine except what I did and made up…
"Everyone has a certain perception of the world. We see it in different terms. There is no doubt that we see the reality. But then there are those who also see the others. They see what is there but they also see beyond to the heart and the soul of the world. What we say can't exist and yet we fear it as if it does and will destroy us."
"That is our nature. We fear the unknown, the possibilities and uncertainties more than the fact."
"Yes we do, but that will change. Soon we will fear the known more then the forgotten. It is coming"
Chapter 1 – the beginning
The streets of Sydney were flashing past me. Zooming past looking cold and distant, not like the buildings back at home. The contrast was exciting, new, interesting. Everywhere you look there were people rushing about, no sign of stillness or calm swaying trees just the movement of the people barely human in there mechanical movement. There were nearly no trees and millions of those metal and steel traps.
The world started to slow down as the bus began to pull into the bus stop. People were milling around, like a flock of sheep. Some were talking on expensive looking mobiles screaming at some unimportant secretary or another, others had books and were reading, one or two were talking to one another. But all of them wore grey or black business suits with prober black, closed off shoes that looked incredibly expensive. This was how most of them dressed I had noticed, I was the only adult on the bus that was wearing ripped jeans and a t-shirt with the words 'come on then' on it as well as sandals, and even the kids were wearing joggers not sandals.
I felt, and properly looked, second class, unimportant, like a kid about to vandalise something. I had so far had twelve huffs, twenty looks and two you should dress your age comments directed at me. I was still getting a very snotty look from two of the teenage girls who had commented on what I was wearing, but that was most likely because the two guys on the other seat were looking very interested in me. Not that they had much to worry about, teenage boys aren't my ideal boyfriend type.
The bus was getting very crowded. A tall, brown haired, young male in a black stripped suit that looked tailored came up to my seat and sat down. He was clutching a brown briefcase with the letters SR on the handle. The man reached into the briefcase and pulled out a batch of papers, which looked highly important.
"Ms Roberts?" a deep, voice with a British accent emerged from his lips. "I realise that you're surprised at me asking you to meet me like this but my day was completely booked and it was most urgent that I meet you."
"UMM…Mr Hex?" When she had said yes to this meeting she had not expected to see a 30 year old British on the bus, in her T-shirt and baggy trousers.
"No I am not Mr Hex, I am his first assistant Michel Morgan, and I am here on his behalf. Now I realise that you are unaware as to why this interview is taking place and was told to give you this." At this point he gave me the briefcase, "and you have strict instructions not to lose it. Everything you need and want is in that briefcase. It is more valuable than you can imagine and I would suggest that you carry it on you at all times."
At this he stood up and left the seat. I stared at the brief-case, confused at the sudden meeting. That was the man I had a job interview with in two hours. That man was the reason that I was sitting on this filthy bus, surrounded by self-important people arrogantly classing me as a "bush girl". Then I was told that he is not who I think he is and that everything I need to know