Disclaimers: Blahhhh. They don't belong to me. ~sigh~ Well, actually, so
far everyone except Brad belongs to me. Woot!
Falcon in the Dive Chapter III And soon the moon will smolder And the winds will drive Yes, a man grows older, but his soul remains alive. All those tremulous stars still glitter And I will survive Let my heart grow colder and as bitter as a falcon in the dive -Falcon in the Dive from Scarlet Pimpernel
"The first thing you need to do is create a barrier. Picture it in your mind. Construct it mentally, building it brick by brick. Having a barrier will help you, both by keeping the future at bay, accessible when you want it, and to keep inquisitive minds out. You'll run into a lot of those at Rosenkreuz." Brad listened to Thomas, trying to do the best he could with the instructions he was given. The two were sitting on the couch in Brad's flat. Room 3712 was his own, not to be shared, which has been his first impression. Of course, there were certain conditions. He was to keep the apartment neat and organized, he was to clean up after himself, and he was to study. If he did not do this, the flat would be taken away and he would be stuck in a much smaller room. Brad didn't understand why they were doing this, but he agreed readily enough.
Thomas has also set up a schedule for him in the morning. Every day sharply at nine, Thomas came in and instructed him on how to build his shields. After a week of practice, Brad had gotten good enough at keeping rudimentary walls up that Thomas felt he was almost ready to run on his own, and wouldn't need the protective shields Thomas still kept up around him.
Starting at ten, the German lessons started. Brad didn't understand why he had to do this. He didn't seem German was a very useful language, anyway. It was really gruff sounding, and when Thomas spoke it, the words always sounded angry. Perhaps, Brad mused, this is why Germans had started both World Wars. He hadn't asked anyone, and was very attentive, but today he seemed distant. Finally, in the middle of the lesson, Brad interrupted.
"Tomorrow is Christmas Eve," Brad announced. Because of the nature of his two companions, the dark haired boy had tried to refrain from thinking of it. The proximity of the holiday was too close though, and Brad was excited. "You said you'd deliver the present to my parents."
"That's right," Jim said from where he was dozing in the large chair he was in. His arms were crossed, eyes closed.
Brad looked from one to the other, hoping they would add more to it. Neither did, and Thomas continued along with the lesson. The boy sighed...
* * * *
On Christmas Eve, Brad laid awake a long time in his large bed, eyes wide as he anticipated Christmas. Maybe Jim and Thomas have just pretended to be uncaring. They said they were delivering his parents gifts. What if they brought the gifts his parents were going to have given him? What if they went through the trouble of bringing his parents to him? Brad grinned wildly. He really missed his parents, and he would love nothing more then to see them tomorrow. He hadn't really had a chance to say goodbye, and if he could, he would take the next train home. However, always in the back of his mind was the vision he had had of his death. He recognized the importance of building shields and controlling his Talent, and most importantly, being able to affect the future because of what he'd seen. He felt he would finish learning soon, though. Then he could go home before being sent off to Rosenkreuz.
As Brad stared at the ceiling, he decided he would write them in the morning. He could give it to Jim to send out. He was pretty sure the older man would do it for him. Brad wanted to call his parents, too, but he couldn't. The phone in his apartment was only for incoming calls. Eventually, Brad managed to fall asleep, drifting from his excited state to that hazy in-between and finally sinking into a dreamless sleep.
When Brad awoke in the morning, his barely conscious mind registered the day, but not the place, and the child surged to his feet, ready to run to the tree and his parents and his presents. His waking mind registered where he was though, and the dark haired boy slowed, his heart sinking. There were no decorations in his room or apartment. Nothing to remind him of what day it was beyond they calendar on the wall. Moments later there was a knock, and Brad ran to the door, a sudden grin lighting his face. Maybe that was his parents! At least, Jim and Thomas bringing the gifts his parents wanted to give him. Brad threw the door open, his fantasy exploding until he had convinced himself that his parents were there.
Jim and Thomas stood in the door, pushing their way past him into the room.
"Nine o' clock. Time for your lessons," Thomas announced.
"Wait-what about Christmas?"
"I'm Jewish. I don't celebrate it," Thomas said simply, taking his customary place on the couch. Brad looked to Jim.
"I don't really do the Christmas thing," Jim explained with a shrug.
"Oh," Brad said, crestfallen. "But what about the gifts from my parents?"
"We weren't able to get the packages yet. I'm really sorry about that, Brad. But, we delivered your package. We got a call just this morning. Your parents love it very much."
Brad sat throughout the lesson, repeating the phrases and words mechanically that Thomas rattled off to him. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, the two left. Thomas stood up, giving a slight nod before exiting the room. Jim lingered behind a while longer, waiting until his partner left before crouching down next to Brad. From his long overcoat, he pulled out a small, black lacquered box and deposited it into Brad's hands.
"Estet doesn't approve of personal items, so keep this hidden," Jim explained as Brad took the box, "Merry Christmas, kid," Jim gave a small grin before standing and following his partner out of the door, closing it behind him. Brad stood for a moment, studying the familiar box. It was a gift his parents had given him years ago, something that he had kept his smallest treasures in. Feeling a wave of sadness wash over him, he opened the box. On the top of a small collection of stuff was a pressed four-leaf clover caught between wax paper. Brad remembered when he found this particular clover. He and Nat had been hunting for four leaf clovers in an empty lot near their houses. Both eventually had found one, and had bound them in wax paper, putting them inside a dictionary to be pressed. Beneath the pressing was his favorite GI Joe. The action figure was ragged, his paint having rubbed away in places. Brad pulled the toy out, holding onto him tightly. He felt like he'd been reunited with an old friend. Beneath the toy was a small collection of pictures. Brad stared at the stop one for a moment before reaching in and pulling them out. He shuffled through them slowly, memories enveloping him.
* * * *
Christmas afternoon found Brad lying on the couch, listless. The radio next to him blared out carols, only serving to deepen his feelings of despair. As the child stared blankly at the TV, an idea started wiggling to the surface of his consciousness. It started off as a mild fantasy, but slowly took root as something he could do.
He would write a letter to his parents. He would tell them he was coming home. He had learned enough to keep the shields and block out the future, at least for the most part. He didn't need to go to this German school. He could go to a normal high school, back home. He would just make sure he never got married or had kids. That's all he had to do. Brad pulled himself to a sitting position. He didn't have to put up with this!
* * * *
"Jim?" Brad knocked on the apartment that belonged to the younger man. He seemed to be more approachable then Thomas, especially when it came to personal things. "Jim!" he called again, knocking harder when there was no response.
"Comin'...." Brad heard the faint call from inside. There were some muffled noises and finally Jim pulled the door open, dressed only in a loose robe. "Whatcha want, kid?"
"This," Brad said, thrusting the letter into Jim's hands. The man looked down at it. "It's a letter to my parents. Could you deliver it to them?"
"Sure can," Jim said with a smile. "Is that it?"
"Yeah."
"Okay, then. Merry Christmas," Jim said, shutting the door. Brad noticed he seemed to be in a hurry. Brad stood for a moment before heading back towards his room, spirit uplifted now that he had a goal.
A full month later, not only had his parents written back, but he maintained correspondence. He had mentioned coming back, but his parents urged him on in his studies. Some people had come talked to them about Rosenkreuz and Estet, and they said it seemed like a good idea. They agreed that they would like a visit, though.
On a snowy, blustery day in January, Brad stood before Thomas's apartment.
"I had a vision," He announced once the door had been opened.
"What was it?"
"I saw you brushing your teeth. You use Crest."
"Did anything happen?"
"You slipped on water and banged your head against the counter. You should watch out for that."
"Thank you, I will."
"Can I go home soon?"
"Oh, I'm sorry, Brad! Your parents are on vacation right now. When they get back, maybe we can try to work it out, okay?"
"Alright."
"Okay, good. Do you want to go out today?"
"Yeah! Can I go sledding?"
"Well, no."
"Why not?"
"We have to go tell Mr. Morris about your vision. I'm sure he's going to be very impressed. However, I don't want you to be dirty. Go put your suit on."
"Do I *have* to?"
"As a future student of Rosenkreuz, you should always be presentable."
"It's uncomfortable..." Brad protested weakly, knowing he had lost this argument.
* * * *
This was only the second time Brad had met Mr. Morris. The man was an imposing figure with a constantly stern expression. He sat behind a large corporate desk, hands clasped in front of him, as he looked Brad over, and steely gray eyes focused on him.
"Mr. Crawford," Mr. Morris greeted, his voice deep and filled with authority. "I understand you had a vision and control your Talent now. Is he ready for Rosenkreuz?" The eyes shifted to Thomas who stood at attention behind Brad.
"Yessir."
"Good."
"When do you turn thirteen, Mr. Crawford?"
"May 27, sir."
"We're going to put you in the advanced classes. Make sure you are prepared for that. He'll be leaving May 28," Morris looked to Thomas.
"What about my parents? Can I see them?"
"Not now, Brad," Thomas stepped closer to the boy, placing his hand on his shoulder, "Let's not concern Mr. Morris with that right now."
"May 28"
'Yessir," Thomas nodded, pulling Brad behind him and exited the large room. Once they had made it to the hallway, a very generic looking place that fit the sterile personality of the building, Brad pulled out of Thomas grip, eyes narrowed. He was not a naive or stupid boy, and the uncomfortable feeling that he had been lied to all along was growing in him.
"I want to see my parents, Thomas," Brad said tensely. Thomas sighed, crouching next to him, his clothes rustling softly as he moved.
"I'm sorry, Brad. You can't see them for a while yet. Things are going to be intense while we prepare you for Rosenkreuz. We only have a few months, and you need to study harder everyday and increase your German lessons."
"Why?"
"Rosenkreuz is in Germany. A lot of your teachers will be German, and it's easier for everyone if you can communicate in that language."
"I don't-"
"You have the potential to be one of the best students. I won't be surprised if you also become one of the most respected. You may even get put into a position of authority. If that happens, then you will get your own room, " Thomas was smiling as he continued telling about all of the advantages Brad had, and how bright his future was.
"Can I see my parents sometime during my stay at Rosenkreuz?"
"Of course."
"And I'll learn how to change my future."
Thomas nodded his head.
* * * *
That night Brad was struck by another vivid vision. It involved his parents, and as he saw them as clearly as the day he left them, thought slightly older. There were delicate lines around his mother's mouth and eyes, while his father had deeper creases. Both had seemed to age well. They were in an unfamiliar house, though whether it belonged to them or to someone else he was unsure. Brad watched with detatched interest as they left the house and climbed into their silver Mercedes. It was as they were turning onto the highway that they were blindsided by a Ford Truck, barreling through the red light and directly into the silver car.
The two met with a tearing, painful sound.
Brad knew without the vision finishing that his parents were dead.
He had to go to Rosenkreuz. He had to change the future. Brad decided then, eyes wide as he stared at the ceiling, heart slowing down, his breathing becoming less ragged, that he would dedicate everything to stopping the bad things he had seen. He would twist the future. Use it to his advantage. If he was to see it, then he was going to change it.
* * * *
The following months passed in a dreary flow of gray days. Around him, Jim and Thomas did much to prepare him for Germany, and before he left he had a fair grasp on the language and was able to carry on basic conversation. Jim promised him he would pick up the rest as he went along.
So it was on May 28, 1983 that Brad Crawford was bid a good trip and shoved onto the plane at 5:30 PM where he sat for the next fourty-five minutes. Despite the usual delay in take off, the Delta flight finally lifted off at 6:15.
"Hello," Brad turned to the boy sitting next to him. He was small with large eyes that were so dark they looked black. His hair was a curly brown, and his face was held a large smile. "My name is Paul. What's yours?"
"Brad."
"Would you like some candy?" Paul offered, pulling a bag of M & M's out. He ripped them open and looked expectedly at Brad.
"Sure. Thanks," he smiled, holding his hand out and watching the rainbowed candies fall into it.
"Are you going to Rosenkreuz?"
"Yeah. How did you know?"
"I don't know. I just did," Paul said with a shrug and a smile. "I was living in a foster home and these people and said I should go to a school called Rosenkreuz in Germany. They said they'd help me," Paul shrugged again, "Anything is better then the foster homes."
"How old are you?"
"Eleven."
Brad blinked. "You don't look like it. I thought you were eight..."
"Yeah, s'what everyone says," Paul said with a laugh. "I'm really small for my age. Were you taken from a foster home, too?"
"No, I have parents."
"Why'd you leave them?"
"I...saw something."
"Oh! You're a precog...i..ni..tive. Right?"
"Precognitive. That's what Thomas told me."
"Thomas?"
"One of the guys who taught me German before sending me away."
"I thought you said you weren't in a foster home."
"I wasn't. He took me from his parents to teach me important stuff and meet the head of Estet."
"Estet?"
"The people who own Rosenkreuz."
"Oh...So, have you seen Return of the Jedi?!"
"No," Brad said slowly, only just realizing that the film he had been anticipating more then anything had been released. He and Nat had promised to see it with one another.
"It was *so* cool. You *have* to see it!" Paul suddenly became very animated, waving his arms around excitedly. "They got Han back, and there was Boba Fett...he's my favorite...and Leah killed Jabba the Hutt because she was captured by him, and Chewie was there...and then they were making another Death Star, and...." Paul continued, relaying the whole movie over in a very disjointed excited manner. Brad tuned out the rambling of the small child.
Yesterday he had turned thirteen.
Had anyone cared?
* * * *
The plane arrived at eleven AM of the following morning with a thud as the wheels hit the runway. Beside him, Paul awoke with a start, blinking blearily. "We there?"
"Just arrived."
Paul peered out the window. "It doesn't look much different from home."
"Yeah."
The two were anxious to get off, and soon as they were allowed they grabbed their possessions from the overhead compartment and waited impatiently to get off. Finally, the two piled off and looked expectedly around.
"There!" Paul said, pointing to a man with sunglasses, holding a sign that said 'Rosenkreuz.' "Hey!" Paul shouted, running up to him with a grin on his face. "Let's go!"
"Are you Paul Token and Brad Crawford?" The man intoned in a flat voice.
"Yes," Brad said simply. The man nodded once before turning and leaving, expecting the two children to follow him.
* * * *
The car ride was spent in silence. Brad had fallen asleep almost immediately after climbing into the black Benz. The driver wouldn't talk at all, and thus Paul was forced into silence. The small child had started poking Crawford excitedly once Rosenkreuz came into view. It was a brilliant site, an old castle as the main compound with much more modern buildings linked to it. The Alps rose from behind the school, following the horizon for as far as Brad could see. As they approached the school, the American felt a since of foreboding settle as a lump in his stomach, making him slightly nauseous.
The two were dropped off at the front, the car roaring away, leaving them to stand in front of the place. Large ostentatious doors bore down on the two children, and they shared a glance before Crawford climbed the stairs and knocked. Slowly, the doors pulled open revealing a man in a crisp suit and a stern face.
"Welcome, Mr. Crawford, Mr. Token. You're right on time."
"Thank you, sir," Brad said, a polite smile on his face. Despite the man's smiling face, Brad could feel that he was very dangerous.
"I'm Herr Gettelfinger, headmaster of Rosenkreuz. This school is one of the best, and we're very good at training children such as yourselves into people who will one day grow strong enough to do whatever you want. You have a Talent. You are above the average man. We will teach you how to utilize what you have," The man continued his welcome speech, and Brad felt himself take a step back. There was something about this man that was unsettling, something that put him on edge. Still, he continued to act very attentive. Despite the fact that he didn't trust Herr Gettelfinger, he knew this school would help him, and he felt smug.
* * * End Chapter III Well, sorry it's taken so long! My computer you know, causing some problems. but here's the story-finally. I want to give a big thanks to Mami for editing and helping out. Thanks for being there to bounce ideas off of! ^^ Umm, I'm not giving up on The Gods Would Laugh, for those of you wondering. I've had problems with it, though. I'm not satisfied with certain things, so I keep working on it. I promise to update it soon, though!
12-11-02
Falcon in the Dive Chapter III And soon the moon will smolder And the winds will drive Yes, a man grows older, but his soul remains alive. All those tremulous stars still glitter And I will survive Let my heart grow colder and as bitter as a falcon in the dive -Falcon in the Dive from Scarlet Pimpernel
"The first thing you need to do is create a barrier. Picture it in your mind. Construct it mentally, building it brick by brick. Having a barrier will help you, both by keeping the future at bay, accessible when you want it, and to keep inquisitive minds out. You'll run into a lot of those at Rosenkreuz." Brad listened to Thomas, trying to do the best he could with the instructions he was given. The two were sitting on the couch in Brad's flat. Room 3712 was his own, not to be shared, which has been his first impression. Of course, there were certain conditions. He was to keep the apartment neat and organized, he was to clean up after himself, and he was to study. If he did not do this, the flat would be taken away and he would be stuck in a much smaller room. Brad didn't understand why they were doing this, but he agreed readily enough.
Thomas has also set up a schedule for him in the morning. Every day sharply at nine, Thomas came in and instructed him on how to build his shields. After a week of practice, Brad had gotten good enough at keeping rudimentary walls up that Thomas felt he was almost ready to run on his own, and wouldn't need the protective shields Thomas still kept up around him.
Starting at ten, the German lessons started. Brad didn't understand why he had to do this. He didn't seem German was a very useful language, anyway. It was really gruff sounding, and when Thomas spoke it, the words always sounded angry. Perhaps, Brad mused, this is why Germans had started both World Wars. He hadn't asked anyone, and was very attentive, but today he seemed distant. Finally, in the middle of the lesson, Brad interrupted.
"Tomorrow is Christmas Eve," Brad announced. Because of the nature of his two companions, the dark haired boy had tried to refrain from thinking of it. The proximity of the holiday was too close though, and Brad was excited. "You said you'd deliver the present to my parents."
"That's right," Jim said from where he was dozing in the large chair he was in. His arms were crossed, eyes closed.
Brad looked from one to the other, hoping they would add more to it. Neither did, and Thomas continued along with the lesson. The boy sighed...
* * * *
On Christmas Eve, Brad laid awake a long time in his large bed, eyes wide as he anticipated Christmas. Maybe Jim and Thomas have just pretended to be uncaring. They said they were delivering his parents gifts. What if they brought the gifts his parents were going to have given him? What if they went through the trouble of bringing his parents to him? Brad grinned wildly. He really missed his parents, and he would love nothing more then to see them tomorrow. He hadn't really had a chance to say goodbye, and if he could, he would take the next train home. However, always in the back of his mind was the vision he had had of his death. He recognized the importance of building shields and controlling his Talent, and most importantly, being able to affect the future because of what he'd seen. He felt he would finish learning soon, though. Then he could go home before being sent off to Rosenkreuz.
As Brad stared at the ceiling, he decided he would write them in the morning. He could give it to Jim to send out. He was pretty sure the older man would do it for him. Brad wanted to call his parents, too, but he couldn't. The phone in his apartment was only for incoming calls. Eventually, Brad managed to fall asleep, drifting from his excited state to that hazy in-between and finally sinking into a dreamless sleep.
When Brad awoke in the morning, his barely conscious mind registered the day, but not the place, and the child surged to his feet, ready to run to the tree and his parents and his presents. His waking mind registered where he was though, and the dark haired boy slowed, his heart sinking. There were no decorations in his room or apartment. Nothing to remind him of what day it was beyond they calendar on the wall. Moments later there was a knock, and Brad ran to the door, a sudden grin lighting his face. Maybe that was his parents! At least, Jim and Thomas bringing the gifts his parents wanted to give him. Brad threw the door open, his fantasy exploding until he had convinced himself that his parents were there.
Jim and Thomas stood in the door, pushing their way past him into the room.
"Nine o' clock. Time for your lessons," Thomas announced.
"Wait-what about Christmas?"
"I'm Jewish. I don't celebrate it," Thomas said simply, taking his customary place on the couch. Brad looked to Jim.
"I don't really do the Christmas thing," Jim explained with a shrug.
"Oh," Brad said, crestfallen. "But what about the gifts from my parents?"
"We weren't able to get the packages yet. I'm really sorry about that, Brad. But, we delivered your package. We got a call just this morning. Your parents love it very much."
Brad sat throughout the lesson, repeating the phrases and words mechanically that Thomas rattled off to him. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, the two left. Thomas stood up, giving a slight nod before exiting the room. Jim lingered behind a while longer, waiting until his partner left before crouching down next to Brad. From his long overcoat, he pulled out a small, black lacquered box and deposited it into Brad's hands.
"Estet doesn't approve of personal items, so keep this hidden," Jim explained as Brad took the box, "Merry Christmas, kid," Jim gave a small grin before standing and following his partner out of the door, closing it behind him. Brad stood for a moment, studying the familiar box. It was a gift his parents had given him years ago, something that he had kept his smallest treasures in. Feeling a wave of sadness wash over him, he opened the box. On the top of a small collection of stuff was a pressed four-leaf clover caught between wax paper. Brad remembered when he found this particular clover. He and Nat had been hunting for four leaf clovers in an empty lot near their houses. Both eventually had found one, and had bound them in wax paper, putting them inside a dictionary to be pressed. Beneath the pressing was his favorite GI Joe. The action figure was ragged, his paint having rubbed away in places. Brad pulled the toy out, holding onto him tightly. He felt like he'd been reunited with an old friend. Beneath the toy was a small collection of pictures. Brad stared at the stop one for a moment before reaching in and pulling them out. He shuffled through them slowly, memories enveloping him.
* * * *
Christmas afternoon found Brad lying on the couch, listless. The radio next to him blared out carols, only serving to deepen his feelings of despair. As the child stared blankly at the TV, an idea started wiggling to the surface of his consciousness. It started off as a mild fantasy, but slowly took root as something he could do.
He would write a letter to his parents. He would tell them he was coming home. He had learned enough to keep the shields and block out the future, at least for the most part. He didn't need to go to this German school. He could go to a normal high school, back home. He would just make sure he never got married or had kids. That's all he had to do. Brad pulled himself to a sitting position. He didn't have to put up with this!
* * * *
"Jim?" Brad knocked on the apartment that belonged to the younger man. He seemed to be more approachable then Thomas, especially when it came to personal things. "Jim!" he called again, knocking harder when there was no response.
"Comin'...." Brad heard the faint call from inside. There were some muffled noises and finally Jim pulled the door open, dressed only in a loose robe. "Whatcha want, kid?"
"This," Brad said, thrusting the letter into Jim's hands. The man looked down at it. "It's a letter to my parents. Could you deliver it to them?"
"Sure can," Jim said with a smile. "Is that it?"
"Yeah."
"Okay, then. Merry Christmas," Jim said, shutting the door. Brad noticed he seemed to be in a hurry. Brad stood for a moment before heading back towards his room, spirit uplifted now that he had a goal.
A full month later, not only had his parents written back, but he maintained correspondence. He had mentioned coming back, but his parents urged him on in his studies. Some people had come talked to them about Rosenkreuz and Estet, and they said it seemed like a good idea. They agreed that they would like a visit, though.
On a snowy, blustery day in January, Brad stood before Thomas's apartment.
"I had a vision," He announced once the door had been opened.
"What was it?"
"I saw you brushing your teeth. You use Crest."
"Did anything happen?"
"You slipped on water and banged your head against the counter. You should watch out for that."
"Thank you, I will."
"Can I go home soon?"
"Oh, I'm sorry, Brad! Your parents are on vacation right now. When they get back, maybe we can try to work it out, okay?"
"Alright."
"Okay, good. Do you want to go out today?"
"Yeah! Can I go sledding?"
"Well, no."
"Why not?"
"We have to go tell Mr. Morris about your vision. I'm sure he's going to be very impressed. However, I don't want you to be dirty. Go put your suit on."
"Do I *have* to?"
"As a future student of Rosenkreuz, you should always be presentable."
"It's uncomfortable..." Brad protested weakly, knowing he had lost this argument.
* * * *
This was only the second time Brad had met Mr. Morris. The man was an imposing figure with a constantly stern expression. He sat behind a large corporate desk, hands clasped in front of him, as he looked Brad over, and steely gray eyes focused on him.
"Mr. Crawford," Mr. Morris greeted, his voice deep and filled with authority. "I understand you had a vision and control your Talent now. Is he ready for Rosenkreuz?" The eyes shifted to Thomas who stood at attention behind Brad.
"Yessir."
"Good."
"When do you turn thirteen, Mr. Crawford?"
"May 27, sir."
"We're going to put you in the advanced classes. Make sure you are prepared for that. He'll be leaving May 28," Morris looked to Thomas.
"What about my parents? Can I see them?"
"Not now, Brad," Thomas stepped closer to the boy, placing his hand on his shoulder, "Let's not concern Mr. Morris with that right now."
"May 28"
'Yessir," Thomas nodded, pulling Brad behind him and exited the large room. Once they had made it to the hallway, a very generic looking place that fit the sterile personality of the building, Brad pulled out of Thomas grip, eyes narrowed. He was not a naive or stupid boy, and the uncomfortable feeling that he had been lied to all along was growing in him.
"I want to see my parents, Thomas," Brad said tensely. Thomas sighed, crouching next to him, his clothes rustling softly as he moved.
"I'm sorry, Brad. You can't see them for a while yet. Things are going to be intense while we prepare you for Rosenkreuz. We only have a few months, and you need to study harder everyday and increase your German lessons."
"Why?"
"Rosenkreuz is in Germany. A lot of your teachers will be German, and it's easier for everyone if you can communicate in that language."
"I don't-"
"You have the potential to be one of the best students. I won't be surprised if you also become one of the most respected. You may even get put into a position of authority. If that happens, then you will get your own room, " Thomas was smiling as he continued telling about all of the advantages Brad had, and how bright his future was.
"Can I see my parents sometime during my stay at Rosenkreuz?"
"Of course."
"And I'll learn how to change my future."
Thomas nodded his head.
* * * *
That night Brad was struck by another vivid vision. It involved his parents, and as he saw them as clearly as the day he left them, thought slightly older. There were delicate lines around his mother's mouth and eyes, while his father had deeper creases. Both had seemed to age well. They were in an unfamiliar house, though whether it belonged to them or to someone else he was unsure. Brad watched with detatched interest as they left the house and climbed into their silver Mercedes. It was as they were turning onto the highway that they were blindsided by a Ford Truck, barreling through the red light and directly into the silver car.
The two met with a tearing, painful sound.
Brad knew without the vision finishing that his parents were dead.
He had to go to Rosenkreuz. He had to change the future. Brad decided then, eyes wide as he stared at the ceiling, heart slowing down, his breathing becoming less ragged, that he would dedicate everything to stopping the bad things he had seen. He would twist the future. Use it to his advantage. If he was to see it, then he was going to change it.
* * * *
The following months passed in a dreary flow of gray days. Around him, Jim and Thomas did much to prepare him for Germany, and before he left he had a fair grasp on the language and was able to carry on basic conversation. Jim promised him he would pick up the rest as he went along.
So it was on May 28, 1983 that Brad Crawford was bid a good trip and shoved onto the plane at 5:30 PM where he sat for the next fourty-five minutes. Despite the usual delay in take off, the Delta flight finally lifted off at 6:15.
"Hello," Brad turned to the boy sitting next to him. He was small with large eyes that were so dark they looked black. His hair was a curly brown, and his face was held a large smile. "My name is Paul. What's yours?"
"Brad."
"Would you like some candy?" Paul offered, pulling a bag of M & M's out. He ripped them open and looked expectedly at Brad.
"Sure. Thanks," he smiled, holding his hand out and watching the rainbowed candies fall into it.
"Are you going to Rosenkreuz?"
"Yeah. How did you know?"
"I don't know. I just did," Paul said with a shrug and a smile. "I was living in a foster home and these people and said I should go to a school called Rosenkreuz in Germany. They said they'd help me," Paul shrugged again, "Anything is better then the foster homes."
"How old are you?"
"Eleven."
Brad blinked. "You don't look like it. I thought you were eight..."
"Yeah, s'what everyone says," Paul said with a laugh. "I'm really small for my age. Were you taken from a foster home, too?"
"No, I have parents."
"Why'd you leave them?"
"I...saw something."
"Oh! You're a precog...i..ni..tive. Right?"
"Precognitive. That's what Thomas told me."
"Thomas?"
"One of the guys who taught me German before sending me away."
"I thought you said you weren't in a foster home."
"I wasn't. He took me from his parents to teach me important stuff and meet the head of Estet."
"Estet?"
"The people who own Rosenkreuz."
"Oh...So, have you seen Return of the Jedi?!"
"No," Brad said slowly, only just realizing that the film he had been anticipating more then anything had been released. He and Nat had promised to see it with one another.
"It was *so* cool. You *have* to see it!" Paul suddenly became very animated, waving his arms around excitedly. "They got Han back, and there was Boba Fett...he's my favorite...and Leah killed Jabba the Hutt because she was captured by him, and Chewie was there...and then they were making another Death Star, and...." Paul continued, relaying the whole movie over in a very disjointed excited manner. Brad tuned out the rambling of the small child.
Yesterday he had turned thirteen.
Had anyone cared?
* * * *
The plane arrived at eleven AM of the following morning with a thud as the wheels hit the runway. Beside him, Paul awoke with a start, blinking blearily. "We there?"
"Just arrived."
Paul peered out the window. "It doesn't look much different from home."
"Yeah."
The two were anxious to get off, and soon as they were allowed they grabbed their possessions from the overhead compartment and waited impatiently to get off. Finally, the two piled off and looked expectedly around.
"There!" Paul said, pointing to a man with sunglasses, holding a sign that said 'Rosenkreuz.' "Hey!" Paul shouted, running up to him with a grin on his face. "Let's go!"
"Are you Paul Token and Brad Crawford?" The man intoned in a flat voice.
"Yes," Brad said simply. The man nodded once before turning and leaving, expecting the two children to follow him.
* * * *
The car ride was spent in silence. Brad had fallen asleep almost immediately after climbing into the black Benz. The driver wouldn't talk at all, and thus Paul was forced into silence. The small child had started poking Crawford excitedly once Rosenkreuz came into view. It was a brilliant site, an old castle as the main compound with much more modern buildings linked to it. The Alps rose from behind the school, following the horizon for as far as Brad could see. As they approached the school, the American felt a since of foreboding settle as a lump in his stomach, making him slightly nauseous.
The two were dropped off at the front, the car roaring away, leaving them to stand in front of the place. Large ostentatious doors bore down on the two children, and they shared a glance before Crawford climbed the stairs and knocked. Slowly, the doors pulled open revealing a man in a crisp suit and a stern face.
"Welcome, Mr. Crawford, Mr. Token. You're right on time."
"Thank you, sir," Brad said, a polite smile on his face. Despite the man's smiling face, Brad could feel that he was very dangerous.
"I'm Herr Gettelfinger, headmaster of Rosenkreuz. This school is one of the best, and we're very good at training children such as yourselves into people who will one day grow strong enough to do whatever you want. You have a Talent. You are above the average man. We will teach you how to utilize what you have," The man continued his welcome speech, and Brad felt himself take a step back. There was something about this man that was unsettling, something that put him on edge. Still, he continued to act very attentive. Despite the fact that he didn't trust Herr Gettelfinger, he knew this school would help him, and he felt smug.
* * * End Chapter III Well, sorry it's taken so long! My computer you know, causing some problems. but here's the story-finally. I want to give a big thanks to Mami for editing and helping out. Thanks for being there to bounce ideas off of! ^^ Umm, I'm not giving up on The Gods Would Laugh, for those of you wondering. I've had problems with it, though. I'm not satisfied with certain things, so I keep working on it. I promise to update it soon, though!
12-11-02