Finding Yourself

by Lynx Larabellows

As if trying to prevent his older brother from going crazy wasn't hard enough, Chris now has to deal with keeping his identity a secret, keeping his unstable cousin safe, trying not to destroy the world, and dealing with people from the future. Oh joy.

2. The Escape

Finding Yourself
The Escape

Monday, November 23rd, 2020
Short breaths of air rushed through her chapped lips, the coldness of the room making them appear in visible puffs. She had her head resting against the soft padded wall, which acted almost like a pillow, her pale and sickly form curled into itself into the corner of the small room. The coolness would have had anyone else shaking in shivering, moving around where they sat to try and keep their body's circulation up so they would not freeze. She, however, remained unaffected by it. It was, in fact, a comfort more than anything.

The young woman's clothes were made of the simplest and thinnest fabric, cheaply bought and poorly crafted. A pair of off-white drawstring pants hung loosely around her hips even though the tie had been secured as tightly as possible, and a matching shirt tied up her back which hung awkwardly off of her body shoulders. Her arms, however, were cradled in a strong, tight and restricting fabric that pulled her arms in opposite directions around her small body, a straitjacket that kept her movements restrained.

To the casual observer, this young woman could have just been another underweight teenager, her skin an unnatural shade of translucent pearl and wrapped around her frail body too tightly, too thinly, making her veins easily visible to all and her bones jut out sharply. She had dark brown hair, appearing almost back in the dim lighting, cropped closely to her head, chopped jagged and unevenly so that it stuck up in odd places around her face.

The only real thing that would have made her stand out in a crowd were her eyes. From a distance, they both appeared to be the same but a closer look could prove that, while they were both eerie and strangely knowing in a way that made it impossible to keep eye-contact with her for more than a few short moments… they were both different colors. One was a pale ice blue, cold like a bitter winters frost, while the other was a steely gray, seemingly capable of cutting right through one's soul.

Adorning each of her thin wrists and her neck were simple circlets. Jewelry seemed a bit out of place on her, with her cheap and simple apparel and her sickly state. And they would have been out of place, had they been ordinary trinkets. Instead they left her abused soul feeling even emptier than before. Even in her confused state, with countless drugs and the useless electroshock therapy surging through her weak system, she knew what the plain silver jewelry truly was.

They were used to seal the very lifeblood of any magical being in existence—they sealed her magic inside of her. Magic was a part of her. It was in her veins, in her soul, in the very air that she breathed. Not being able to feel it fully, it was like being trapped beneath water with no breath, suffocating and claustrophobic. It's what had made her scratch around the delicate skin of her wrists and her neck, desperately trying to remove them so she could feel somewhat a semblance of relief. The scars from each failed attempt at removal had still yet to fade, still red and raw from her most recent attempts, of which being bound by the jacket had been the result.

These doctors thought they were all so smart, trusting all of the supposedly converted witches they had turned to help them create the seals for the circlets.

Only a handful out of every few hundred of her kind had ever truly converted, and those that had, they had chosen to turn their backs on magic itself, and thus the magic they were able to wield was of the weakest kind. While the trinkets and seals they enchanted did work, they did not work as effectively as someone else casting them would. The spellwork was halfhearted at best, full of patchwork holes and tears that would not, could not, contain everything.

And for someone as powerful as she, it could only seal away a little. Which is why, she knew, they had placed three on her person instead of just one, as they did for everyone else in this Facility.

It did not matter, however, because even though they had taken and sealed as much of her magic as possible, they could not take it all, especially not the portion she shared with her other half. They believed she was helpless in here, a good little lab rat all secured and locked away until they had use of her, for experimenting or for her abilities.

It would be their downfall.

These doctors had been warned extensively about her and her family, warned by the rogues and converts alike. The suggested precautions of having an entire coven of converts or rogues bind her powers, because that would be the only true way to ensure someone of her lineage was harmless, or the suggestion that she be kept permanently sedated, had all been ignored. These people were so blinded by her… potential.

They coveted her far too greatly to ensure she became little more than a vegetable. She was Subject Zero, after all, the first true witch in captivity. She had been with them from the time she was thirteen, until she had successfully managed to escape, with the aid of her cousin and his followers. It was ironically his fault that she was here again, though it had been of her own violation. She would rather it be her inside this prison, rather than her cousin.

Among the powers that she retained, there was one in particular that she was especially glad that could not be bound. It was a special power, extraordinarily unique. This power was one that the government of the United States of America and their military had a particular investment in, which was the main reason she had yet to be placed into a drug induced coma. This ability allowed them to watch their enemies, to know intimate details of when an attack might take place and where everything will happen was too much an advantage not to grasp.

It was true that they have more cooperative clairvoyants in their possession, at least a dozen per each State. However her gift of sight was far more advanced than just the everyday run of the mills witch. Whereas their seers could see a few days ahead into the possible future, she could see years ahead, decades, even millennia ahead even. She was their crowning jewel, their precious diamond among the rubble. They kept eyes on her closely, safeguarding her even better than the President of the United States himself.

It was with her sight that she watched the world around her take shape from simple lives of working and shopping and laughter into one of hiding and death and destruction. Once magic had finally broken through the veil of secrecy and the mortals made aware of its existence, that is when the world had been thrown into chaos and everything began to unravel.

The discovery brought back the medieval methods of the Salem witch trials, only with better technology and a worldwide witch hunt. Hundreds of thousands of good, innocent people were accused and summarily executed on suspicions of magic, and only a few out of every fifty who were killed or accused had actually practiced magic or was married into it.

Some willingly surrendered, betraying their own kind and making a pledge to their respective militaries that they would only use their abilities in service to their governments. They were known as converts to the public masses, traitorous bastards and a few other colorful names to those of the magical persuasion. Others had resisted, and unfortunately perished for it. Few, who desired peace between everyone, were made examples of, because most mortals seem to forget their morality whereas magic is concerned. Their bodies are burned in the pyres, stadiums built specifically for the sheer entertainment of watching a witch burn.

As fate would have it, just when witches finally began to lose hope, an unspoken accord was struck with those who had once hunted them. A truce of sorts, and those who had once protected the mortals from their worst nightmares stopped practicing their magic, allowing the soulless demons to prey freely upon their tormentors. Some witches even fled to the very demons they once reviled for protection against the mortals. Alliances, pacts, and oaths were made, and all of the gates to the Underworld were opened and the demons were set free to wreck whatever havoc they desired upon the rest of humanity.

The trials died down as the mortals began to realize that they were burning their only chance at salvation to crisps, and the remaining witches still and custody, and who were deemed useful enough, were transferred to facilities and molded into warriors to fight their new aggressors. Female witches were little more than breeding stock for an improved, powerful army, and new technology gave the mortals their own power of control. With the simple push of a button, an implanted microchip at the base of the brainstem could render the host brain dead or instantly kill them.

Mortal death row inmates, and simple criminals only serving for thievery or even a mild vandalism charge were… recruited for experiments. They would be injected with the blood of a witch or a demon, subsequently imbuing the carrier with the powers the magical being possessed. Of course people did not take into account that mundane humans were not built with the unique genome sequencing required to successfully transfuse magic, and it wasn't long until the foreign magical energy would cause the body to attack itself, causing mental instability and hallucinations before their eventual death. Rogues, as they were known, typically only survived five to seven days after being injected.

It was something she could sympathize with. She, herself, was mentally unstable. It had been why she was discovered as a witch, and as she was the first witch in captivity, she had been allowed to live for the soul purpose of studying her. She had been diagnosed with schizophrenia when she was only twelve, and institutionalized a few short months before her birthday. She was kept heavily sedated not long after her incarceration, and when it became apparent that magic was not just a myth, she had been intensively investigated due to some irregularities in not only her case file but also in her blood. It was because of those studies that scientists had discovered a way to isolate people with the magical anomalies in their bloodstream.

And though she spent most of her time lost in an abyss caused by countless unnecessary brain surgeries, shocks and dissections, which had all been attempts to make her sane before the discovery of magic… she did have moments of clarity, where her mind was no longer fractured beyond repair. She even likened her own thoughts to a puzzle being built on a watery surface; all of the pieces were laid out before her and she was able to place them together in ways that made sense, though at any given moment the tide would disperse and the pieces would break apart and become jumbled once more.

During those lucid moments, she could ignore the many chemicals inside of her body that were slowly ruining her, and she could let go of the instinctual and almost animalistic reactions. She could think clearly, she could plan, and scheme and it had taken her years to come up with a suitable plan during these short periods of lucidity.

However she had unwittingly underestimated her own abilities.

Another power they had not been able to seal away had been her telepathy. With it, even in her unclear and confused state, she had somehow managed to convey her internal, long running plan to her other half, unintentional as it may have been. And because of that… he was gone.

One moment there had been a constant, comforting presence settled in the back of her mind, the warm soul wrapped around her… and then it had simply vanished, as if it had never been there to begin with. It had been worse than the feeling of the majority of her magic being just out of her reach, it had been more heartbreaking than screaming for her family as strangers held her down and stuck her with needles. Half of her soul was just gone, just like that with no explanation for it even.

It was his disappearance more than anything that had placed her into her latest stupor, with little to no brain activity. She would not eat, she would not sleep, and she was completely unresponsive to everything. The doctors had to nourish her intravenously every day and sedate her every night so that her body would not shut down completely. Her condition had worsened over the past few months, her body and mind and magic all in accord for once. Essentially she was committing suicide. Her will to live had faded along with the presence of her other half, of her Chris. He was gone, and logically, or rather as logically as she could get, it meant that he had to have perished and the only way to be rejoined with him would be to die as well.

At least, that had been her mindset until just a few weeks ago.

For the briefest of moments, she had felt his presence once more, just as warm and comforting and there as it had always been, though their bond had been subdued, not entirely cohesive any longer.

Feeling him had been a slap in the face, a wakeup call, and then she had been devastated when she realized he had vanished once more within the hour. Before he disappeared again however, she had instinctively sought out his mind with her own and learned the reasons behind his mysterious disappearances. From that moment on, she had placed a new plan into motion, seeing as her other half had unknowingly stolen the original one from her, and sat patiently in waiting these past few days to bring it to a conclusion. She pretended to be as unresponsive as before, biding her time until the moment was right.

It was pure luck that her captors hadn't the foresight to place magical detectors or even a few probes inside of her soft padded cage. They held far too much faith in their textbook sciences and technologies, believing that their inventions could contain her, especially when they were under the misconception that the trinkets around her wrists and her neck.

All they did to watch over her was a small camera, positioned in the far right corner of the small room where she could not reach it, concealed within a black, glassy dome. It transmitted into the office just at the end of the hallway from her room, just as the other nine padded cells down here on the supposedly high priority ward.

In exactly five minutes, a doctor and a guard would enter her room to dose her with the nightly sedative she had been prescribed. That was when she would put her new carefully thought out plan into motion. The doctor's name was Augustus Cavil. He had married his high school sweetheart at the tender age of eighteen. He earned himself a scholarship to a very prestigious collage, and pursued and attained his medical degree. He and his wife had tried for years to have children, and now he was the very loving and proud father of twin girls.

It was her plan to let him die by his own hand with the sedatives meant for her, so that he died quickly as quietly rather than the long, messy and painful death the man truly deserved.

Contrary to his very ordinary way of life before the discovery of magic, Augustus Cavil had become a very bad man during his time within this facility. He no longer cared about the sanctity of life, ruthlessly torturing and interrogating suspected witches until they confessed whether it was true or not. He likewise attended the pyres every weekend, making bets with his friends on how long a witch would scream and struggle before the fires consumed them. He was planning to watch the burning of a witch tonight in fact, just after his shift.

This witch had no active powers and she was considered to be too old to be in the breeding program, so she had been deemed useless by none other than Cavil himself. She was being held within this facility, on a less secured level. If her plan went the way she foresaw, then the innocent woman's life would be spared, along with the guard and his family.

When nine o'clock rolled around, the heavy footfalls of Cavil and the guard could be heard echoing down the hallway just beyond her door as they approached. She silently counted down the minutes, the very seconds, until they would arrive at her room. She waited patiently, in the position she had been in since she had woken, in the position she had not moved from, save for when they had to physically manhandle her into a new position. Her heart pounded beneath her ribs, eyes remaining fixatedly at the padded walls in front of her.

The keys jingles in a blaringly loud way, as the outer door of heavy bars was unlocked, and then a high pitched noise as the access codes were imputed into the keypad on the inner door, her senses enhanced by the adrenalin coursing through her veins.

There was a whoosh as the hydraulics of the door activated, and the two men entered, approaching her cautiously. The doctor held in his hands a datapad and a stylus, her most current records displayed on the plasma screen. The guard was unarmed, save for a single baton, and he stood awkwardly at the mouth of the door, his face turned away as if he were afraid to even watch. Cavil stepped in front of her, kneeling down and began going through a series of tests as procedure dictated, just as he had done every night since he inherited this position from the late doctor, Richard West.

"Pupils still unresponsive," he murmured to himself after flashing a light directly into her eyes a few times. The entire process of checking her vitals and responses took only around ten minutes. "Absolutely no reflexes… no motor functions… she's still the same as she was last night," he finally deduced once the tests were all complete. "Perhaps she should be readmitted to the breeding programs. I doubt she would give them as much of a fight as she did last time. They probably won't even need to give her the insemination, just lock her in a room with one of the scum and let him have at it," he chortled.

The guard grimaced and shifted uncomfortably. "Can you just get on with it?"

Cavil gave a snort of bemusement. "What? It's not like she cares. She's been completely out of it for months already. She is useless to us, at least as a breeder she would be worth the money we spend on her. According to her records, she used to be one of West's favorites because of how powerful she is. He used to spend hours upon hours with her, alone most of the time. I doubt it was all purely for research, if you know what I mean," He laughed callously at the guard's obvious discomfort. "Wouldn't mind doing some… research on her myself."

"Look!" the guard snapped, anger and disgust apparent in his voice. "Just… just do your job. I have to get back to my post. If you want to do anything else, do it on your own time, alright!"

"I think I will," Cavil said coolly. He turned back to the girl, who had still not moved from her position even though she was dying to take the stylus and shove it into this man's eye, a clean and quiet death be damned. He removed a bottle of the sedatives from his white lab coat, along with a syringe. After filling the syringe with the necessary dosage, he bit off the plastic cover of the needle and prepared to inject her with it.

However, Augustus found that, when he reached down to untie her pants so that he could jab the needle into her upper thigh as he always did each night, that his hands faltered as he heard something unexpected. There was a whisper, a voice in the back of his mind. It was nothing more than a soft murmur of sound but never before had he heard anything so melodious, gentle or beautiful in his entire existence. The voice washed over his with the same power as a strong wave crashing into a reef with devastating force.

"Augustus…" it sang to him, lovely and soft. "Augustus…"

"Yes?" he breathed out in awe, the cover of the needle dropping from his lips, forgotten. This mysterious voice knew his name! But, just after he spoke, the voice grew softer, became fainter… like it was moving away from him and he desperately wished he could form the words to beg it not to leave him. It was as if his tongue had suddenly become glued to the roof of his mouth, rendering him unable to speak.

"Augustus,"

The man blinked as the voice now seemed much closer, much clearer than before. It was then he realized that he was staring into a pair of blue and gray eyes, fierce combination of vicious ice and sharpened steel, aware and intelligent, and staring with intensity directly at him. And yet… he felt at peace, being held in place by those oddly wonderful eyes, wondering how he could have ever thought this beautiful girl a useless creature who should be exterminated like the termites in his attic.

"Augustus," she whispered once more, her chapped lips unmoving, her head tilting in a barely noticeable way that, had he not been watching her so intently, so carefully, he would have missed the movement entirely. It made her lovely chocolate hair fall into her eyes wonderfully. "Do you love me Augustus?" she asked him, her glorious voice lit with a vulnerable tinge.

It made his heart swell that this particular question had the ability to make her feel vulnerable.

"Yes," he answered breathlessly. "Of course," He winced as he saw it reflected in her eyes that she did not believe him. Her eyes, her beautiful blue and gray eyes, stared deeply into his own muddy brown ones, full of hurt and accusation.

"More than you love Elizabeth?" she asked softly.

Augustus Cavil had to dig deep within his memories to even recall a vague impression of a woman named Elizabeth, though he still came up with no true recollection of his loving wife. Nor could he recall ever having children with her. His high school sweetheart was nothing but a vague shadow in his mind compared to his new love.

"I don't know an Elizabeth," he told her urgently, his heart pounding with fear that she would still not believe him, and he would lose her over it. "And even if I did know her, how could I possibly love her more than you?"

"… Prove it."

"I love you, I swear!" he spoke desperately, eyes shining with unshed tears in his plea. "You're my everything! My world! I would do anything for you, my love…"

The young woman studied him for a moment, as if assessing his sincerity, and he tried as best as he could to convey how deeply his love for her ran, finally allowing himself to cry in front of her. It was something he had refused to do ever since he was a child, believing that tears were for the weak, and yet he could not help but release all of his feelings if it meant she would believe him.

And then, after a long moment that seemed to have lasted forever, the corners of her eyes crinkled upward, and her lips twitched into a smile. And that was all it took to make everything that had been in his life until this point meaningless, all of his worries and triumphs, his family and friends…it was as if he had been dead inside before this point in time, knowing it was only his love that could bring a smile upon her face. He felt whole for the first time in his life.

"Will you help me, Augustus?" she asked sadly.

For the first time, he suddenly noticed that she was restrained and in clothes that were threadbare. With a horrified gasp, he gathered his love into his arms and reached behind her to unlatched the jacket that bound her arms, which he then helped her to remove with the gentlest of care he could manage, while retaining his fury.

How dare someone do this to her! His anger only further increased when he realized how small and dainty she was, her body appearing as if it had not been properly nourished in years. When she was finally free of the confinements, she smiled at him once more and all of his anger faded.

"I need you to do one last thing for me, Augustus," she told him solemnly. "Before we can leave…"

Augustus nodded eagerly. "Anything, my love,"

"My dear friend Jenny is being held here as well," she informed him sadly, her bottom lip trembling. I fear they will do to her what was done to me. Will you help her?

"Of course!" he agreed, beaming when his love's eyes shown with happiness at his response.

"Thank you, Augustus," Her face was right in front of him, and he framed her delicate face with his hands as she leaned in, her breath wafting warmly against his cheek before she kissed it. He turned his head to capture her soft lips with his own but she had already moved out of his reach. "You need to go now. I fear she will not make it longer otherwise. She is being held in a cell on the first floor, room 152. Save her, and I will reward you beyond your wildest dreams."

The promise was followed by another kiss to his cheek, and Augustus was prepared this time, moving quickly before she could pull way, pressing his lips against hers. He moaned at the softness of them, his body trembling with ecstasy at the simple kiss, and he felt her body quiver as well. His hands wondered up her sides gently as hers suddenly moved to his shoulders, and he reluctantly released her when her hands became persistent, pushing him away.

"Go now!" she gasped, breathless and shaking. "The sooner you leave, the sooner you will get your reward."

Augustus swallowed hard and moaned inwardly at the thought of what his reward would entail and he stood slowly, holding onto her hand until the last possible second before rushing through the open door and past the shocked guard.

The other man had watched with bemusement as the doctor had begun speaking to himself as if he were actually holding a conversation. He had tried countlessly to gain the doctor's attention over the last few minutes, though he had been unsuccessful. He could only stare in helpless shock as the doctor had abruptly released his patient from her restraints and then proceeded to kiss her unmoving body until she forcefully shoved him away from her.

The guard cleared his throat, feeling even more awkward now than he had before. He stared at the girl cautiously, though she remained in the exact position she had been in since she had pushed the doctor off of her. He took a half step closer to her, wondering if he should call for another doctor to finish what Dr. Cavil was doing before he seemingly lost his mind. He froze in place, however, when her eyes suddenly snapped to his.

There was such an intenseness in her gaze that it held him immobile.

"Hello Daniel," she said calmly.

He swallowed the lump lodged in his throat. "Y-you know me?"

The girl smiled, a sad haunting smile, and inclined her head just barely. "Yes, I do. Your name is Daniel Quinn del Mar, and you celebrated your twenty-eighth birthday two months ago. You are married to Chelsea Nina del Mar nee Yates and she will be turning twenty-seven in January. You have two children together. Kathryn Anne del Mar, who is going to be seven this December, and Marcus Neil del Mar, whose fourth birthday you celebrated just last night, even though it was not until today, because you had to work and you wanted to be with him when he opened his gifts."

Daniel would have hyperventilating when she began to recite such things about his life, about his wife and children, his family, things she couldn't possibly know… and yet he found himself strangely calm about all of this, as if his fear had been pushed into the deepest depths of his mind.

The young woman rose gracefully to her feet, a delicate rising and he instinctively flinched away, until he realized that she was merely wiping at her mouth, a brief and vaguely disgusted expression crossing her face.

"Do you know that Kathryn is a witch?" she asked him, as if it were something as casual as asking about the weather.

On the contrary, the word was considered too taboo to even speak, because even the briefest whisper of magic would bring an inquiry unless you were accusing another of being one. Daniel balled a hand into a fist, his body shaking.

"You've seen it," Her voice was neither accusing nor condemning. She was simply telling him a fact. "Even if you refuse to acknowledge what it is. How objects move when she is angry or upset… it is called telekinesis. The ability to move and control objects with your mind… she practices in secret when everyone else is asleep in their beds because she is scare that if you catch her, that you will bring her here."

All of the blood drained from his face, leaving Daniel pale. He would never… his Katie, precious Katie would never be brought here! Over his dead body. She would waste away here, become nothing more than an empty shell full of chemicals instead of his happy little girl, who loved to smile and play and sing. He would protect her, he vowed inwardly. He would make her stop so she could not be discovered by anyone.

As if hearing his inner most thoughts, the young woman spoke again. "It was something she was born with, not like an addiction or something that can be stopped. It is genetic, passed down through the generations… surely you've noticed how sick your wife has become over the last few years. She keeps it all bottled up inside of her, and it is not healthy. I was happy once," she said with a a frown. "Just like Katie. When I was considering my future, I was torn between wanting to become a doctor to save lives just like my older cousin wanted to be, or to become a singer. My family always said I had a beautiful voice," Her calm eyes met his frightened ones. "Does it worry you that your sweet little Katie will be in my place before she has her first kiss? She will be a little older than I was when they first caught me… she will be fourteen. Will you still watch the monitors and guard the halls when she is the one who is trapped inside here, as they do cruel and unspeakable things to her? Does it bother you? It should." She met his gaze fiercely. "No, I don't like doctors any longer. I would prefer to be a singer now,"

Daniel closed his eyes with a noticeable shudder as she began to hum a haunting melody. Her voice was beautiful… but it was also dead. There was no trace of emotion in it at all, and that made it the most terrifying thing he had ever heard before. Only when she ceased the sound did he find the strength to open his eyes once more, releasing a startled gasp when he realized that she was now standing directly in front of him.

He took several steps back to place some distance between them but in his haste, he forgot that the floors were padded, soft and uneven, and it sent him sprawling. He looked up swiftly from his position on the floor, noticing with relief that she had not moved again and was instead peering down at him with something akin to bemusement.

"White used to be my favorite color, you know," she told him calmly. "It went with everything. Reminded me of winter when we used to build men out of snow, and have snowball fights with my family…" She glanced at the walls and the floor with disdain. "White is all that is here, even the floors in the hallways and the ceilings are white. The brightness hurts… this place… all it does is bring pain,"

Daniel's eyes were drawn to her inner elbows just where her thin sleeve ended. There were small scars and a peppering of red wounds that were recent, made from the constant insertions of needles.

It was a sight that made his stomach roll.

He opened his mouth, wanting to tell her that he never wanted anything like this to happen to her or his daughter or his wife or anyone else no matter how different they were from him because they weren't different in the waves that should matter… he just couldn't find the words, still struck silent.

And yet she smiled at him, and it wasn't the same sad smile from before that had sent chills down his spine. This one was genuine. It spoke of something akin to pride. But… in what? Certainly not in him? He had been guarding this place since she was brought in a few months ago… but maybe… just maybe, she knew. He had no idea how she could possibly know what he was thinking, t hough somehow he was certain that she knew that all he had ever wanted to do was protect his family, to provide for them, and that was the only reason he had sat by all this time, ignoring the twisted feelings in his gut and covering his ears whenever he heard the screams. And now all he wanted to do was protect her, to help her get out of this hellish existence.

"You are a good man, Daniel," she said gently, her small hand reaching down.

Daniel stared at the offered appendage with slight apprehension. Her fingers were long and slender, graceful in a way he imagined that a piano player's might be, and they extended toward him patiently. Her skin was so achingly pale that he could see every vein in her hand and wrist, crossing beneath her skin in an almost spider web fashion.

It was as if something had finally snapped into place inside of his head, and he cringed inwardly. She was no different than him, no different than his daughter or his wife. For far too long he had looked the other way, he had fooled himself into believing what everyone was told, that these people were not human at all. And this girl, this small and fragile girl had shattered his illusions with a five minute conversation.

Daniel reached up, sliding the palm of his hand against her own. Her skin was warm even in the coldness of the room, and he felt a small undercurrent of something just brimming beneath her flesh. Shock wove though him, even shown on his features, when the young woman hauled him up by his arm with ease, as if he were weightless. She offered him no explanation for her strength and he did not ask.

"Keep Kathryn safe," she advised, placing a gentle hand on against his shoulder. "If you do, then one day she will grow strong. Her powers will progress and she will be able to protect herself and the family she will have when she is older. She will save a man's life, a very important man. And with his life, so many more will follow. As it has been written, so shall it be." Her words held a certain heaviness to them—as if while she had been speaking them, somewhere somehow they were being written into stone. Unbreakable stone. "A single grain of sand can move water on the opposite side of the world… unnoticed, but still there. Your daughter will create a ripple that will grow into a wave."

The man's brows furrowed in confusion to her prediction but she only smiled at him and grasped his arm tightly. "Follow your heart," she whispered reassuringly, the pressure of her hands fading as she too faded away into nothingness, surrounded by an invisible breeze. "You will understand… one day…"

And with that daunting note, the young woman he had watched over for the past few months simply vanished. One second he was staring right at her, she was there… and in the next she was gone. Blinking almost stupidly, he looked around the small space for any trace of her, and then exited her empty cell in a daze.

Daniel had been aware that she was a witch, a powerful witch that everyone in the facility had always seemed to be treated with great reverence. She had been given gourmet foods and soft blankets for the most part… at least, until Dr. Richard West's brutal three months ago. Cavil had not been joking when he had said that she had been a favorite of West's. It was not as if it were some dark secret, it was actually rather common knowledge. But every witch in this facility had those odd little bracelets with the magical sealing… right?

Daniel thought hard on it for a moment, and he could distinctly recall seeing flashes of silver on her neck and her wrists. But the way she had spoken… he knew that she was classified as insane, not entirely there… but… His heart leaped into his chest as he finally sat down at his desk, his hands moving to the keyboard before he even had time to think about what he was doing. He had to know. If she could… if she really could, then it would explain everything.

The computer was still logged onto Dr. Cavil's personal files from just minutes before, when the man had accessed it for his rounds. Hers was still open. It was the largest file within the bunch, countless entries and notations and information. He scanned over the introduction briefly, which merely consisted of her serial code, of which he knew was also either branded or tattooed over some part of her waiflike body, and her name. Her name was Phoenicia Naomi Halliwell. She was categorized as a witch, with certain aspects of an unidentified strand of demon blood in her as well. Her known powers were telekinesis, which he recalled from their earlier conversation was the ability to move things with the mind, and she was also an extremely gifted clairvoyant. He scanned down an old entry, one made by Dr. West long before Daniel had accepted this job.

It is possible that subject may have more power though she has yet to show any signs of more than the previous two listed. The subject is incredibly gifted with, what she calls, her Sight. She has correctly predicted both minor and major outcomes of certain events, and it seems as if there is no limit to how far ahead she can see. She also seems to have complete control over her telekinesis, able to use it as a shield or as a weapon.

Subject is also severely schizophrenic and is unreliable in the field. She could be extremely useful as a breeder, any children from her would become powerful assets. However previously failed artificial inseminations have proven to be ineffective due to the subject terminating the pregnancy before it even starts in another display of her superb control of telekinesis. I recommend the use of muscle relaxants and sedatives to administer the inseminations over long periods of time.

The sick feeling returned as he reached the conclusion of the entry, wondering how exactly she had managed to survived this long and come out relatively sane. He looked away from the monitor in shame, berating himself for doing nothing.

Daniel had been right. She could, she definitely could. She could see into the future and his daughter would one day become someone important. He couldn't let something like this ever happen to his daughter, his sweet little Katie. He refused to let this happen to her. This girl, Phoenicia, she had been like Kathryn once, just a carefree girl, so full of energy and life. And now she was just a hollow shell of what she used to be.

It would not be Katie's fate.

Nodding to himself, he conveniently neglected to report the young woman's disappearance and warily made his way down the hallway and to the elevator, intent on clocking out and getting home. Tonight, he would take his family and run. He had a friend, one who, while not actively part of the Resistance that Daniel knew of, supplied them with information from time to time. He would join them, the Resistance and he would finally choose a side.

On his way out of the building, he saw Augustus Cavil with a woman he recognized as a witch whose execution was going to be broadcast tonight. The doctor was leading her to his fancy car, and that was when Daniel noticed that there was another young woman already sitting in the car. His eyes widened as the dark haired girl smiled and waved at him from behind the windshield while Cavil ushered the other witch into the backseat.

That was the last he ever saw of any of them, though it was not the last he heard of the girl, Phoenicia Halliwell, nor of Augustus Cavil.

The newspapers the day before he and his family fled to the sanctuary of New Avalon to join the resistance, sadly proclaimed that Augustus Cavil had committed suicide. He had injected himself with lethal doses of medications he had stolen from the facility he worked in, and had passed away quietly in his sleep. The doctor's family had no explanation of his sudden departure, the article has stated, and it would bring a full inquiry and inventory of the department where he had worked. All the man had left behind was a note, one that read 'Goodbye, my love…"

And the Halliwell family was renowned to even the youngest of witches and demons alike, and among those of the Resistance, their words were law.

Not only were they the founders of the Resistance itself, they were also the ones who had created the Stronghold of New Avalon, hidden and protected city where everyone could live in houses of their own, plenty of food to ensure no one went starving because all of it was grown and conjured with simple magic.

Daniel and his family were immediately placed in a home that was twice the size of the one they had lived in before, and the only thing the Resistance had asked for in return was an oath that they would not willingly betray the location of the Stronghold to anyone else who was not also part of the Resistance, or at least willing to join their cause.

Or at least… that is what Phoenicia had foreseen.

Those events would not happen for a few more hours, and by then she would have vanished completely off of the face of the known world to help her other half with the predicament he had managed to get himself in to. She had to be very exact in her timing, otherwise her mind would be lost to the abyss and by the time she finally managed to become lucid again, she could have been anywhere. She would have to postpone everything, and that wouldn't due.

Phoenicia had already saved the life of the woman, Jenny, who was by now already halfway to the safe house she had pointed her to and would likely be in New Avalon by morning. It was the least Phoenicia could do after all. Jenny was not a witch, and the reason she had no active powers was because she had no powers at all. She had only married a witch. And Cavil… he had been left heartbroken when she had stolen away when he had been too preoccupied with avoiding anyone who could possibly spot their notice.

A part of her felt gilt for causing his infatuation with her, only to abandon him so suddenly, though she ruthlessly squashed that feeling, recalling that not even an hour ago he had been joking about her possibly being resubmitted to the breeding programs. This death would be cleaner than the one he deserved.

And now she was treading down a vaguely familiar path. The park was hardly recognizable since the last time she had seen it. She had been twelve then… she was seventeen now. The once emerald and lime green hues that had covered the ground of the rolling hills were now vacant of all life. There was no grass, only brown, charred weeds that covered in black soot from the war torn sky.

The bright flowers that had been so carefully planted and cared for were now dry and wilted. Most of the trees still stood, though their branches had all been cut down cruelly. The sky was blackened with smoke and other pollutions, a foul stench in the air that was a far cry from the antiseptic, almost too clean smell of the hospital that she was now accustomed to. She could scarcely recognize this place and she doubted that her unstable mind had much to do with the difference.

The world itself had become a warzone. What were the uses of parks if not battlefields?

Though at the moment, this area of the park was relatively bare of human or demon life. The closest she could sense anyone at the moment was at least thirty yards away from her current location, and there was still a pillar of dark smoke blocking her from view. Still, years of being practically tortured into submission had garnered a healthy dose of caution, even if she was not always in the right state of mind.

The young woman tiptoed her way down to a secret location, pleased to see that, even with all of the destruction around her, this one place was still sacred.

It was relatively untouched, and it had seemingly gone unnoticed even if it was the only green among the black smog. Only four people in the entire world knew about this place, could even see it… well, technically there were five, but he did not count because that would just be counting the same person twice, now wouldn't it?

It was just a cave, strong enchantments protecting the ivy and moss that hit the mouth from view, and there was even another spell that rendered the cave itself unnoticeable. It was just a small haven.

Smiling slightly, she stepped inside, a cloak of darkness encasing her until she walked in further. Her presence caused the torches to spring to life, the golden glow from them making her pause, her eyes trying to adjust to the new brightness, soft and dim as it was. With a deep inhale of breath, she discovered that the air in here was much more pleasant, of burning cedar and spiced apples along with the faintest traces of dirt from the earth below. She pressed onward.

When she finally came upon the dead end, the true door to the grotto that had once belonged to her other half, she paused. Her eyes searched the walls around the hidden doorway, for she did not wish to enter his sacred space even if he had long ago given her permission to do so. All she wanted was four little objects, ones that had no monetary value.

Their value was worth more than money to her.

It did not take her long to find the objects she was searching for. Four gemstones, all encased into the rock. They were arranged and aligned with the four corners and the elements. One was an emerald, dark and bright, streaked through with obsidian and speckles of gold. Another was a blood red ruby, melded seamlessly together with garnet and amber swirls. An amethyst mixed with waves of aquamarine and splashes of white crystals. And the last, a simple clear cubic zirconium, surrounded by a white quartz cluster.

Each was only the size of a small marble, and each gave off the feel of a powerful aura that she could sense from where she stood even.

Slender fingers wrapped around the stone that belonged to her, the zirconium and quartz. She plucked it right out of the wall of the cave and unraveled the chain that was attached to it by nothing by air before she settled it around her neck. A warm, pleasant feeling washed over her like a gentle caress, her magic reaching out to reunite with the piece she had placed in the gem. She took the other stones after a moment of hesitation, and secured them around her left wrist. The feelings they evoked from her were greatly different, and they all embraced her with something akin to emotion.

One was like planted her feet onto the ground, steady and sure, another was all heat and passion, and the last was calm and soothing. And one thing they all had in common… was love. She could feel it resonating from each stone.

It grounded her enough so that she could continue on to the next phase in her plan. Closing her eyes in a deep concentration, she grasped at the stone around her neck tightly and began a slow chant. It was a simple spell, demanding and sure, asking only to be taken to a true sanctuary. Somewhere she could safely carry out the rest of her plan.

Once she finished speaking the last words, she felt her magic surge out from her core and through her skin, reacting strongly and flaring around her as it began to obey her request. The cave melted from her view in a blitz of white glowing spheres, the light warm and comforting, and she suddenly rematerialized in New Avalon itself, in a room that was as secret and sacred as the cave had been. No one would be able to find her in here.

New Avalon was hidden deep below the surface of the Pacific Ocean, on the very floor of it. She had been among those to build this safe haven, though back then it had only been a project, something they kept hidden from their parents. It had originally been smaller, built as a kind of clubhouse just for them.

Kind of ironic when she thought about how it had grown into what was now considered the Stronghold of the Resistance, one of the most magically advanced civilizations in the entire world.

The design of the city itself was simple—a citadel rested at the tallest peak, crafted by powerful magic and surrounded by newly erected homes for those who now resided here. These newcomers had thus built markets and other stores, despite the fact that money held no value here. Surrounding the city itself was a wall of salty sea water, the dark blue depths illuminated by the glow of the city, fish and other sea creature venturing too close. The water was kept at bay by an invisible force, the same force that provided the artificial sunlight and oxygen for everyone—the wards.

The wards were nothing more than a floating sphere of pure magical energy, and it was hidden in the tallest tower of the citadel. It shown of brilliant colors of azure, emerald, ruby and a blazing white, always intermingling and blending together in a beautiful dance for dominance that could never be won. There were no windows and no walls surrounding this energy, letting the light it emitted be cast upon the city and the surroundings, like sunlight.

No doors led to this precious tower, and no one other than the keeper of the wards and a few select others were even permitted near, the denizens of New Avalon kept away for their own protection by none other than the wards themselves. And this particular young woman happened to be one of the select few.

As the she stood, her eyes her eyes sought out this energy, and she felt a hum of something surge through her, grazing her body and swirling around her in obvious excitement. The wards welcomed her, recognizing that a piece of her magic also resided within the mass of color and light.

The young woman smiled in reply, the brief touch of energy enough to help keep her mind clear of muddled and random thoughts.

Wards where simple in theory—draw a few runes to describe what you wish them to do, offer some blood set in stones and bind the wards around the area that needs to be protected, and chant long a litany of spellwork. Of course, all the while you are praying that you do not pass out from magical exhaustion.

The wards of New Avalon differed slightly in that aspect.

When these wards had originally been cast, they had been young children experimenting with magic they only thought they understood, and as such, had not been as prepared for what the consequences of casting them would be.

One person and one person alone would have to do it all. This one person would draw the runes for the wards, would have to offer their own lifeblood to tie the wards, would have to bind the wards to the area they wished to protect, and this one person would be the one to chant the spell to galvanize it all.

As ignorant children, it had been an oversight that had turned out to be a blessing in disguise. They had all drawn the runes, because each of them had wanted to add their own special runes and enchantments to protect this secret place. Wyatt had created the spells that kept the ocean away, Chris added the enchantment that kept a nice even temperature, and she had provided them all with an unlimited source of breathable air. The more lethal additions had been created for by Luke, and not for the city itself but for the defense of it.

Each of them had given their blood for the bloodstones to bind the wards, creating the boundaries, which had since then expanded with the surge of population. And when it had come time to chant in order to activate the runes, they had all taken several turns when one felt as if they could not go on any longer.

In doing so, pouring so much magic from four unique and powerful individuals, these wards were different from others because their actions had incidentally made the wards sentient. A true sentient entity, with individual thoughts and feelings, just like any human being would have.

Unlike with other wards, these could govern themselves, and knew when certain spots in its protective barriers became vulnerable, either correcting the decay on its own or contacting one of the keepers to inform that something was wrong. And now, with this war going on, the wards would weed out those within the faction who were defecting and disloyal to the cause, casting them out of the walls of the city safely, leaving them with no memory of ever having been there or even of New Avalon's existence.

Phoenicia smiled softly to herself as the energy of the wards retreated from her person, and she silently requested to this entity that her presence would remain hidden from the keeper of the wards until she was gone. It would only disrupt her plan if she were to be found by her older cousin.

The magic in the air seemed to resonate with disappointment, though as she had asked, the gentle tendrils of magic circled her one last time before they left her alone entirely, though she sent out one last feeling of gratefulness to the wards for understanding her plight.

Closing her eyes and concentrating inwardly, the young woman began what she came here to do, reaching into her very soul with her mind. She had needed to come to this room because here, in this safe haven, she could attempt the impossible without any interruption.

The young woman blocked out everything about her surroundings, so deep within her concentration that even her own breath was nothing but a soft and barely distinguishable noise in the background. All of her thoughts and emotions were centered solely on opening her senses for one specific purpose.

It was time to find her other half… it was time to find Christopher.

Being one half of a whole, she was able to see his half of their soul with her inner eye—it was still attached to her own, though not in the way it should have been. It was clinging desperately to her by small, spider web-like thin strands of pure amber energy, all pulling away from her own and fading away into a single unidentifiable point in the distance. Or at least, what should have been an unidentifiable point… to anyone else.

For someone such as herself, she could see the exact location where the long, thin webs had gone. And it was wrong, all so very wrong.

There should have been so many different strands connecting the two of them together, overlapping so completely that it should have been impossible to distinguish how many individual threads there were, making it look as if the two halves were one enormous sphere, encompassing each other.

It struck her quite suddenly just how lucky both her and Christopher were to even be alive at this point. Perhaps it had been his recent reappearance that had kept them both from perishing as they should have.

With a small pained noise escaping her, Phoenicia mentally tugged on one of the threads as gently as she could, a testing pull to see how much tension was on their bond. She was met with a fierce resistance, which she realized was due to the fact that this singularity was drawing the threads away unrelentingly.

In another attempt, she gathered as many threads as she could and pulled again, this time with more force, her teeth clenching tight with pain.

Nothing happened, she remained where she was instead of pulled to the side of Christopher as she had foreseen or was he pulled to her.

Phoenicia narrowed her eyes as she tried to recall her vision. She had been so sure that she could follow him to where he was if she placed enough tension of their bond. She had already seen the outcome of fulfilling this phase in her plan, although… she had never actually seen how she fulfilled this particular step.

Perhaps she had come about it differently.

The wards brushed against her once more, though this time it guided her face downward. She had designed the floor of this tower. They had each tweaked and added to everything about their citadel, wanting it to be as architecturally beautiful as they could manage, even though they had been too young to appreciate architectural beauty.

This particular design for the floor had been all her own. Being one who, in a way, existed out of time, she had wanted this tower to reflect her in some way, and so, she had crafted all the white marble tiles into a mosaic of a clock face, obsidian roman numerals though no hands, to represent the infinity of time.

Oh, she thought distantly, cursing herself for not thinking of this sooner.

Phoenicia blamed it on her absent mind. "Goodbye, my friend," she whispered to the wards and she breathed deeply.

Fingers twitched as sparks raced between the digits, and a small smirk appeared on her lips as she glanced at them. She brought her hand up in a wave, to bid the bundle of energy farewell, all the while her body pulsed and her skin tingled with power.

This time when the young woman closed her eyes to concentrate on her soul, she knew why it had not worked the first time. So when she gathered the amber threads, taking her time to capture every single one, this time she also accessed her own unique power—the power that had kept her alive for this long, that the government and her family alike had always coveted.

And she made a pleading request to the source of this power, knowing that for her plan to succeed, that she would first have to offer something precious in return. But as equally precious and reviled as what she would give up was, she needed Christopher even more, just as he needed her. For they would both surely die should their bond be strained like this for much longer.

And with this exchange, her skin began to glow.

It began with just her hands, a soft light emitting from her pale skin, but soon it worked its way up her arms and chest and her neck before it surged down her abdomen all the way down to her feet until no part of her was left unaffected by the luminescent radiance.

The light only continued to brighten after it had encompassed her entire body, making the bright lights provided by the wards, which acted as the sun of the city of New Avalon, seem dim in comparison.

All the inhabitants of this hidden stronghold paused in their daily activities to stare in awe and wonder as no corner of the city was left untouched by this sudden and blinding illumination. And before anyone could so much as blink to adjust their eyes to this new brightness, the light faded out of existence just as suddenly as it had appeared, vanishing without a trace…

… along with its source.

¸.·´¯·»¸.·´¯·»End«·´¯·.¸«·´¯·.¸
¸.·´¯·»Chapter«·´¯·.¸

Hello everyone,

Alight, I hope you all enjoyed reading this newly revised chapter. I'll admit that I am extremely nervous about posting this right now. You see, this is the first time I will be posting without the approval of someone very dear to me. He was always my go-to guy. In fact, he was the one who told me that that I should rewrite this before I lost inspiration. It seems more… real, I suppose, and more developed now.

Hope you all enjoyed it!

Lynx