Chapter 2: Joker's Wild
By: Gem Star
As always I don't own... Aww you guys all know what comes here so I will not go through it all again. I refuse, so there.
I do own Talin, Jalia, Arowen and the others... they are mine, you no take without permission.
Please be a responsible reader.... REVIEW! Flamers however will soon
now be met with flames back. Constructive criticism please.
Jalia flopped down onto her bed and stared at the ceiling. Life had certainly changed, and taken a strange turn towards the macob. Her past few days had been a blur. Talin had recited his dream, in as much detail as he could and Jalia had written it all down in her tiny, crowded script. They had gotten to know the twins a bit more, though Leire didn't come along, they had all gone out to dinner at the local diner last night. Jalia had to fight Talin's eyes away from Arowen to talk to him and it annoyed her greatly.
She found herself focusing on a playing card that she had placed directly on the ceiling, right above her bed. A Joker. For years that had been her nick name up until (Cat's note: "till" and "'til" count as slang, and so should not be included in narration.) she had entered the high school. That was when it all changed and boys started looking at her as a girl and not a playmate to hang out with and play soccer with. And still whenever she looked at her ceiling her eyes were drawn to the card apart form all the other weird things.
Jalia was an avid collector of the weird and unusual. Most of her friends came here just to look at her odd collections of thing she had acquired over years of flea markets and yard sales. Her ceiling was all but covered in posters. Right up to the light fixture which held one orange light bulb and one normal one. Her walls were covered with shelves, everything from a broken jack-in-the-box, to a wide collection of bottles containing the herbs she grew on her windowsills. In one corner was a book shelf stuffed to bursting and on the floors books, paper, pens and pencils made it look as though a tornado had mistakenly only affected her room. She was often bothered by her neat and prim father to clean it. But she continually maintained she just didn't have time. She had ceilings to stare at, books to read, and stories to write. Her eyes were growing heavy, and still she stared at that joker. The silently laughing, sneering face was the last thing her mind remembered before she drifted off.
When she next woke, it was very dark outside. The street lamps had long been humming on; the light produced by the Cuttles contained within the glass. Jalia slowly got up, rubbing her eyes. She had a weird dream involving a giant lopsided doorway and a dark stone castle. She hadn't understood it, nor did she get the impression that she wanted to. It had been creepy, loud and chaotic, full of colored lights and insane laughter.
Placing her glasses back on her face she peered around her dark room and groped next to her bed for the lamp that was supposed to be there. Supposed to. At the moment the bedside table was devoid of the aforementioned lamp. After several minutes of fruitless searching, it was finally located on the floor and flipped on.
The soft orange light from the lampshade illuminated the dark corners of the room. Jalia carefully cleared a spot and set the lamp back on her bedside table before standing and stretching. Then she picked her way to her door and opened it. Subtle snores from the door next to her let her know that her brother was long asleep. And dreaming of his classmate Nemisia, no doubt. She snickered at the thought. It was a common teasing point for all of her siblings on her youngest one, for the fact he had let slip that he liked the girl. One common rule all siblings learn: never tell who you like or you will never live it down. Reimus still had to learn that, and his brothers and sisters were driving the point home mercilessly.
Making her way silently down the tiny crowded hallway, most of the doorways were open and dark. A peaceful air seemed to settle over the house at this hour of the night. That's often why Jalia worked now. There was no yelling, no fights between she or her brothers and sisters, just the peaceful silence that seemed to come when everyone else was asleep.
Jalia's life was much different than that of her friend Talin; Where Talin only had one sister, and his mother. Jalia had 6 brothers and sister and both her parents. Talin's mother had a good job, which paid well. Jalia's parents worked long hours, but with 7 children and themselves, the money they made didn't go far. The house was small and crowded. But home it was, none the less. Nowhere else ever felt the same to Jalia as the small house, with the one floorboard halfway down the hallway that creaked when stepped on. The house with the wall by the kitchen that had recorded each and every child's growth since her eldest sister, Kitsine, was a year old. The house that had seen so many rowdy birthdays that there was a permanent stain on the ceiling from grape juice.
As quietly as she could she eased the remote out of her father's hand, and managed to take the small black box without waking her parent. So she sat back on the old, dingy couch and turned on the TV, which came on with an audible "BINK". The news came on, loudly. Jalia scrambled to turn down the volume; her father snored a bit, but did not wake.
"And in other news, A strange occurrence of Minion attacks have taken place. All over Spring Valley and Mystic forest pet Gaos, Hollows, and Cuttles have been turning on their owners in a most vicious way." The newswoman paused, looking visibly green. She obviously was seeing the gruesome pictures that accompanied her report as well. Jalia winced and made a face. Apparently the Minion really had turned on their owners... and tried to eat them. "Attacks have ranged from flesh wounds to death. Owners of Minions have been warned to keep a close eye on their pets. And even more strange occurrences large landslide over New Teshika has left none of the houses remaining."
The pictured changed to that of some older 'maren who looked as though he had seen many a better day. "Y'see, there was this rumble then, poof, just like that the house begun to sink. It was all I could do to get me and the wife out in time." The picture then changed to a desolate area that had once been a whole five city blocks, now all that remained was dark black sand and rocks. The occasional board or beam sticking straight up out of the dark horizon made it seem even more devastated and frightening. Something in Jalia's head clicked with the image and she felt a sudden pain in her hand. But looking at the offending appendage, there was no marking, no bite. Nothing, but the dull aching pain didn't stop. Jalia elected to ignore it and turned her gaze back tot he screen.
"The quake hit at about 4 p.m. this afternoon but appeared to have no apparent reason for happening." Jalia frowned at this... around 4 o'clock was when Talin had his fainting episode. Things were connecting too closely for Jalia's comfort. She quietly flipped off the TV and sighed. Earthquakes, minion attacks strange swords and best friends fainting, yep, life just wasn't the same anymore.
Jalia raised her hand in a stretch and wished there were more lights so she could see back down the hallway when, with a sputtering spark all the lights in the house came. Jalia was so startled she literally fell out of her chair landing on the floor with a thud while her father awoke with a snort. All up and down the hallway people peaked their heads out of doorways.
"What happened?" Kitsine said sleepily, her glasses half on.
"Whazzat-whatsa-huh?" Jalia's next oldest sibling, brother Frimen, said sleepily, his golden hair sticking every direction.
"Nothing's going on, kids. Everyone back to bed. That includes you, missy." Jalia's Father came down on her with a vengeance as the rest of the kids pulled their heads back into their respective or shared rooms. "What have I told you about getting up at all hours?..."
"Dad, m'sorry, I couldn't sleep!" Jalia said nervously backing away.
Her father frowned and shook his head. "Get back to bed, and tomorrow you're going to help clean the attic for this little infringement on our agreement about bedtimes."
Jalia stomped her foot but at the stern look from her father knew she would gain no quarter. She sighed and turned stalking back up the hallway to her room, climbing into bed and turning off the light, setting her glasses son the bedside table and fuming to herself about ignorant parents who treat her as a child.
Bright and early the next morning found Jalia in the ancient attic; things from their family from years and years and years had accumulated here from different branches of the family. All put into one stockpile. Most of it was junk: broken mirrors meant to be fixed, old beds, broken tables and dolls with no heads. It was a dreaded chore to have to clean the old dust box and, well, when asked many of the kids did it half-heartedly. But Jalia took joy in the chore, mainly because it gave her a chance to see all the odd things her family had taken in over the numerous years.
It was in a very dark, very dusty corner that she found it. From the amount of cobwebs on the frame of the old trunk it must have been there since they moved to this house and never moved or disturbed. It was of some construction beyond what Jalia had seen before. Carefully she touched the old padlock, the rusted metal gave under her fingers and fell to the floor with a soft clunk.
"Well, it fell open, can't blame me for looking," Jalia said to herself and carefully undid the latch's opening the trunk for a look inside.
Lifting a piece of an old fabric, she found the trunk filled with books. She lifted one; it was so old the gold paint on the lettering was peeling back, leaving the book unmarked. But from their condition they had been well loved in their time. She opened the cover and blinked at the ancient writing in a chaotic close script, not too unlike her own. The words were old... in a language she didn't understand, but as she looked down at the words, the pages seemed alive, something inside of her awakened and she felt power in the air. Frightened, she snapped the book shut again, breathing hard. She was tempted to leave the trunk, forget she had found it. But something nagged at her so she began to shift the books, taking them out of the trunk. All were of the same age and condition, it seemed. She set them down on the wooden floor beside her: once all 4 books were out, she saw something that shone. Taking it out, she found a deck of playing cards. She smiled and looks at them, not paper, but metal.
"Ouch! " She dropped one, sucking on her finger where it had been cut by the razor sharp edge. She picked up the card again and grinned in recognition, these weren't for playing, they were weapons. She looked into the trunk again there folded in the bottom was some bright untouched fabric, carefully lifting it she stood up. When unfolded, the flame colored cloak rested in her hands. She felt the fabric, it was soft and smooth and well cared for, and despite the fact it had been in there for gods knew how long, it was unmarred by age. In fact, now that she looked at it, none of the things seemed past the age they had been put into the trunk. Carefully undoing the jeweled clasp, she slid the mantle over her shoulders. It seemed warm, but it, like the books, gave off an odd feeling. Pulling up the neck slightly, she still smiled, looking down at the fabric. Then gave a gasp of horror and suprise.
She was looking down at where her legs should be, but they weren't there, Nothing was; it looked as though her head, hands and feet were suspended in mid air with the mantle. With a short whimper she tried to undo the clasp and tear the fabric from her shoulders, but the clasp would not open. Somewhere near by high-pitched laughter settled on her ears and she looked around frantically. The laughter continued, high and insane sounding, malicious in its glee as if the owner had just murdered someone.
Finally, with a strangled cry Jalia got the clasp loose and ripped the
cloak from her shoulders, throwing it back in the trunk. As soon as it
lost contact with her, her body became visible again, and the laughter
stopped. Jalia dropped to her knees, panting, staring at the fabric in
wonder and horror. What had just happened was impossible... There was only
one explanation, but that didn't exist. Jalia didn't believe in magic,
no one did. But what had just happened with the cloak seemed eerily like
magic. Something still filtered in the air. Quickly she stuffed the things
away and slammed the lid on the trunk shut again and retreated downstairs;
when asked she yelled that a break was in order and that's what she was
doing.
"What do you mean, you just disappeared?" Talin asked as he polished the cold blade in his hands. His mother didn't know he had it yet. But she was at work and his sister was out. Currently he, Jalia and Kelsen were crouched in his room.
"Just what I said. I looked down and my body was gone!" Jalia looked at them, her brown eyes frantic.
"Sure you didn't just sniff too much wood cleaner?" Kelsen asked from his spot, his pixy-like wings folded down along his back, tail twitching.
Jalia scowled at his accusation. "Listen, I know what I saw and heard. There was this laughter... " She shuddered in remembrance. "It was creepy, but when I asked my siblings they had never seen the trunk before and, moreover, hadn't heard a noise upstairs, not even me bumbling around."
Talin frowned, though he didn't look at his friends. His eyes were focused on the silver blade, which shone, and Jalia didn't have to touch it to realize it was sharp. "Perhaps you were the only one meant to find that trunk."
"That's ludicrous, Talin, " Jalia fumed," my brothers would have found it for all the times they have had to clean that attic. And besides, it can't have been waiting for me. Trunks don't just hide themselves from people and come out when they feel like it."
Talin looked at her, Jalia shied away from those strange, cold eyes. His face was expressionless. "Magic?"
"Doesn't exist," she hissed.
Talin shook his head and tutted at her, never before had this motion seemed so threatening. He leaned forward looking straight into her eyes. "For a person who spent all of her childhood teaching me to believe, and who went on a hunt for the legendary NiGHTS, believing the stories, I find your lack of faith alarming."
Jalia stared back then looked away. Talin had a point, what had suddenly made her change her mind on all that she had taught herself, and believed in over all the years? She wouldn't look at Talin again, she didn't want to see those cold eyes boring into her, and she could feel them without looking.
Talin slowly leaned back and still frowning. "That's what I thought."
Kelsen watched the interaction between the two, and from the look on his face Jalia noted he must not have understood a thing. Jalia sighed, standing. "I better get home... I have to watch the twins this afternoon. "
Talin raised his eyes, but not his head peering through his dark bangs at her. "Remember what I said."
Jalia shivered. "Don't worry, that won't be a problem for now." And with that said she left quickly.
The house was in the after-dark silence again. Usually Jalia would have spent this time to work on a story but her mind was otherwise preoccupied. Her thoughts were upstairs with the trunk, with the strange books, cards, and cape. She knew she was obsessing but couldn't help it. At last she couldn't stand it anymore. Standing, she brought down the attic slide stairs in silence, jumping when they bumped the hard wood floor of the hallway. Climbing up, she went straight to the trunk. She spent much of the next half an hour moving the contents down to her room. Once she had gotten past the cloak she also found a pair of matching gloves and boots.
With all of the new things in her room, she felt strangely energized, unable to sleep now. She sighed and picked up one of the books. Opening the old cover, she peered at the writing. One word stood out from the rest it seemed. "Joker" was written in a bold wide hand. Not the handwriting written throughout the rest of the book so she surmised it must have been a gift. Then she saw it, signed at the bottom of the note in the bold hand was a name. A name that sent chills up her spine. "NiGHTS" was written there in a very stylized manner of a signature. Jalia couldn't believe her eyes. She took off her glasses, hastily cleaned them on her shirt and then put them back on, but the signature hadn't changed. It was NiGHTS. She carefully decoded the rest of the note. Some of the words she didn't understand, however she recopied what she could get.
Dear Jack,
Well this is a gift for the biggest JOKER in my life.
Gods know we have been through a lot together,
Laughed, ___, even fought together and I can't
Say __ would trust another with my life.
Now listen to me get all mushy. Wow, peace has
Made me a __ huh? Well, it's a gift for you to
Write down all those spells and such in. Hope ya like it
Happy liberation!
NiGHTS
Jalia blinked and read the letter again, and again, trying to tell herself it wasn't true. But each time the evidence mounted against her conscious mind's want to deny it. She then flipped a page and found it had been turned into a journal.
Today we raised the first beam on the new town hall. It's funny how quickly we went from a band of rebels, moving from place to place, and became a grounded people, working on a government. Fights still rage between some, and a few riots have broken out, but when it all comes down to the 'maren race is finally all united again under a banner of peace. Reala complains that it is now too quiet, that he will lose his muscle doing nothing... I, however, find it a refreshing change of pace.
People have calmed. I have set myself up in one of the smaller cottages made, though NiGHTS wants to move me to a bigger one and make me the historian. I remind him his sister writes far more then I do. Gem is an avid writer, spending much of her time recording events in notebooks, on slates, anything. I still study, though. One never knows when the spells contained in my books will come in handy. I best get going though. My stomach is rumbling and I have yet to set up the kitchen.
The writing broke off abruptly, finding Jalia feeling someone must have
interrupted the writing. Then something flew into her head: could it be
those books she rescued from the old trunk contained spells? Could it be
true that an ancestor of hers was a mage? Her eyes were growing heavy,
she couldn't focus on the book any longer. She leaned her head back with
only the purpose of resting her eyes but had fallen asleep before she knew
it.
The next day Jalia set to work. Locking herself in her room, she worked all day long, taking breaks only to eat something or use the bathroom. Decoding the old books was hard, but she found she picked them up quite quickly. The language flowed through her and by later in the afternoon she felt confident enough to try one of the simple spells. Standing, she held the old book in one arm and held her other out, muttering the old words, and felt something flow from her, she felt suddenly tired and drained but the spell had worked, standing in front of her was a perfect replica of herself. Right down to the scar above her left wrist where a Gao had attacked her when she was a baby. Of course, it was just that: an image. Not a real thing that could think and talk.
Just then her worst fear came true. The doorknob rattled and her mother's voice was outside the door.
"Jalia Salen, you open the door this instant. What are you doing in there?" Her mother's voice was unusually shrill.
"Er... Nothing, Mom!" Jalia panicked and tried to hide the books amongst the general disorder of her room. With her concentration lost, the imaged faded away just as the door opened. Jalia shoved the final book behind her back, smiling nervously at her mother who, along with her older siblings, was standing in the doorway.
"What are you doing in here?" Litra narrowed her eyes at her younger sister. Jalia took an involuntary step back; Litra was usually amongst the nicest of her siblings. Now the pretty redhead was glaring at her sister viciously.
"Nothing!" Jalia repeated, but her eldest brother advanced on her.
"Jalia, you're lying. We felt it in here. You're doing magic." Frimen stood over his sister like an avenging angel. "That's dangerous stuff. You shouldn't do it at all."
"You mean... you knew... and you never told me?!" Jalia suddenly felt deeply betrayed. Her three older siblings and mother all nodded briefly.
"We knew that if you found out you would try. We were afraid this hunt for NiGHTS would drudge this up." Her mother walked into the room looking for the books Jalia had hidden.
"What has NiGHTS go to do with any of this?" Jalia cried. She felt on the verge of tears and took this opportunity to press her glasses back on her face as they had been sliding down.
"I guess it's all going to come out now anyway," Frimen said as he looked down at his younger sibling. "We are descended from the Mage Jackle, through Mom. For years after the wars, the mage craft was seen as evil, the nightmare craft. So we hid it. And we still hide it. Any of us born with the abilities it is smothered till it relaxes."
"And I..."
"And you showed strongly as a little kid. We thought we had shoved it out of you, but apparently not. Jalia, magic is dangerous. It takes great skill."
Jalia looked up at her brother her eyes narrowing, " you don't think I can do it..."
Frimen still looked down at his sister. "It's for the better that you never learn."
Jalia looked at her siblings, her family who had deceived her. Kept things from her. Suddenly anger rose in her and she growled, "Get out."
Frimen took a hold of Jalia's shoulder as the girl took off her glasses. "It really is for the better..."
Jalia snapped. Something terrible in her had been let loose by the admission of the lies. Jalia valued truth above all else. She raised her hand and screamed "OUT!" a Wind picked up in the room, paper flew everywhere as magic filled it, Jalia's mother and siblings retreated to the relative safety of the hallway. The door slammed in their faces. When the wind died, and the house became silent. Jalia dropped to her knees, sobbing. What had she just done? She was so tired but knew she had to get out of the house before her father came home. She could just imagine the scene then. Gathering up what she could carry she thew it all into a carry bag quickly. The cloak, the books, her work on translations, and the gloves got shoved into the yellow and black duffel bag along with some clothes.
She had just opened the window and was moving to climb out when she
noticed the cards sitting there on the bedside table. She looked out the
window then back and ran over, quickly grabbing the razor sharp cards,
not cutting herself once, and put them into the pocket of her coat. With
that done, she vaulted out the window and into the yard, taking off down
the street quickly. She wanted to get as far away from her family as possible.
Night had fallen hours ago, and still Jalia wandered the streets, no longer sure of where she was in the town, nothing but the old cloak, the deck of cards, and some spell books and clothes in her possession. Shivering she crouched in a dark alley hugging herself to try to conserve warmth.
"The streets are no place for someone like you." The soft male voice made her jump she glared around and her eyes came to rest on a lean boy. Obviously from the streets, his jeans were ragged and patched, his T-shirt was once a golden yellow now looked more tan, and the purple star on it deeply faded. His blond hair a bit over-long and unkempt. He looked down at Jalia quietly from a little way away.
"What do you mean, 'someone like you'?" Jalia asked.
"You're not from the streets, you're one of those little suburb brats who runs away because mummy and daddy took away the television." The boy sounded bitter.
"I am not!" Jalia glared at the boy. Wasn't he cold in just those jeans and a T-shirt?
"Oh, I've seen your kind around here before... Whatever your parents did, it ain't bad enough to take off from a house and warm food. You don't want a life out here. It ain't much of a life at all."
"You have no idea what's wrong, so why don't you just shut up?" Jalia glared up at the boy. He looked back down at her with calm, compassionate blue eyes that completely contrasted his hard tone of voice.
"Because I am telling you, you need to get out of here while you still can."
Jalia slowly stood picking up her bag. The boy slowly walked closer and she hugged the bag to her. She fingered one of the cards in her pocket nervously. "If you came to rob me, you're going to sorely surprised."
The boy smirked. "Rob you? Never; I only pick pocket the wealthy, and no offence, but you're not exactly dripping in wealth. I suggest you get to a friend's house or something. People around here are rough. And I don't want to see you become another missing person found in the river."
"Why should you care?"
"Like I said, I've seen your kind before." Jalia moved to walk by him,
as she did though he handed something to her before moving off in the opposite
direction. In her hand was the missing second joker from the metal deck.
She turned to ask him about it but the boy was gone, She was alone in the
alley.
"Jalia, what are you doing here at this hour?" Talin's mother looked at her in a bit of shock.
"I've had a fight with my family. Might I stay at your house tonight?"
The older woman let her in and nodded slightly, looking at the girl strangely.
"Something wrong, ma'am?"
"No... You just seem... different."
"I am, you have no idea... but I am. " With that she retreated upstairs
while Talin's mother stood puzzled at the bottom step.
End of Chapter 2.
Coming soon: Chapter Three: Songs of the Hero