Dear Reader,
Wow! I can't believe how fast this flew out! I don't expect it will happen again… I wish it would. It was great having it come together this quickly. I'm just waiting to find something wrong or badly written. It's too good to be true. I hope that you enjoy this.
_________________________________________________________________________________
He could feel the power building and, with the love and respect that had been fostered in him from birth, he welcomed it. It rippled through him synchronizing with his heartbeat, and he knelt, as much from reverence and tradition as from the need to before his knees gave out beneath him. It had always been like that for him, fast and powerful and complete. Nothing compared to it.
Except…
Images flash through his mind, brilliant and painfully real.
In the circle even thoughts could become real. He would have to be careful and keep his mind focused.
Laying the box carefully to the side, his hands moving along the edge to the ornate iron latch he presses in and lifts, opening it. The scents of herbs, age, and home encircle him as he gazes within, his hands caressing as he selects and removes what is necessary for his task. Laying out a white cloth he set the objects upon it and, tracing the golden pentagram emblazoned on the clothes center, he selected the anthame from the box and rose.
The handle began at the cross section, a brilliant emerald stone shimmering against the gold metal that spread out like the branches of a tree. From there gold twisted with silver, spreading out in the center to encircle a stone of alexandrite before twisting again in a silver crescent moon around an amethyst stone. It had once belonged to his great-great-grandmother.
There was power in tradition.
From the northern candle he began to walk, tracing the silver ribbon of the circle. Once, blade pointing skyward. Twice, blade held outward. Thrice, blade toward the ground. Three times he walked the circle and with each complete circle the light wavered and brightened. He could feel the warmth pulsing from it as he returned to the center of the circle. Lighting the two remaining candles he paid respects to the God and the Goddess, asking their guidance and blessing. Opening his arms he began the invocations…
Earth. Fertility. Strength.
Fire. Passion. Love.
Water. Femininity. Patience.
Air. Change. Tranquility.
Smiling as he felt them answer, Jareth held his right hand before him, palm down. Warmth gathered and he turned it up, summoning it to form.
Air swirled in colors, fire burned within the heart, water swirled and formed a sphere, and earth hardened it into something tangible.
The crystal lay cool and smooth and perfect in his hands, the image within it captivating him. Something warm and dark flitted through his eyes as he watch the image of the girl.
Hair the color of damp earth…
Eyes that echoed the deepest emeralds…
Eyes that once sparkled with dreams and magick…
Eyes that now saw only the mundane world around her…
Tonight, he thought, tonight he would release her from her prison of reality. Tonight she would have dreams and in those dreams he would give her magic…
Closing his eyes he began the final part of the spell.
Magick crept from him, from the circle. Towards her…
Towards Sara…
______________________________________________________________________________
Sara collapsed back onto her pillow, a sigh passing her lips as she closed her eyes. She could feel the exhaustion raking through her body and gave up a silent pray of thanks that the day was over. It wasn't bad enough that her dreams relentlessly assaulted her day and night, vivid and beautiful as they tormented her, but now to have her very dreams connected to something solid, someone solid; it wasn't right.
Taryn Collins…
It wasn't a name she couldn't place. It was strange and foreign, but it had the ability to roll through her thoughts like cool water. Comforting. Soothing. Disturbing. And it was slowly filling her mind, consuming her thoughts and dragging out her dreams. Why? Why did he remind her so much of her childhood, of her hopes, of her dreams…?
Why did he bring to mind the word Magick?
Turning over onto her side she tugged her blanket lazily over her body.
There is no such thing as Magick…
Sara knew the truth. She had learned it the hard way.
There was no room for Magick and dreams in the reality of a world where Happily Ever After was just a set of pretty words inked on pages of childish books. Magick, dreams, Happily Ever After; they were empty promises whispered sweetly into the ears and hearts of children and she, like all children had believed the words on the page, listened to their whispered promises, and, when life had turned unfair, she had waited for the Happily Ever After she 'knew' would come.
It didn't.
It never would.
She had believed so much in those illusion. She had needed them. She had felt them within her very being. They became a part of her, a part of her soul and when that part of her soul had proved false part of her had died. Even in death the memory of them, of what they had brought to her had haunted her, but she had grown up. She had matured, and with reality and life pressing in on her, pressing out all that she had been, she found a use for her ghosts.
Taking them in hand, enjoying them in a restrained extent, she had made them useful. She shaped them, molded them, colored them, she gave them life in her reality. Bringing them forward in varying dimensions and mediums, she gave them life in a world where they had never existed. Paintings, sketches, sculptures, even writings and theatrics, all of them became an outlet for her torments. She had taken her own pain, mixed and melded it with her talent and love of art and had created a successful and marketable skill with it.
She had won… or she had thought she had.
Curling into its warmth she sought out sleep. Turning to it as one might turn to a savior.
Asking it, seeking it, as desperately as she had once sought something much more wondrous.
Slowly it answered, easing sleep upon her. It crept along her perception like a seductive lover. Gently, slowly, carefully, it began to nibble at her consciousness, leading her bit by bit into the sweet oblivion of rest until finally, finally it took her under.
Her senses dulled, her mind and body relaxed, Sara never sensed the warmth that tinged the air. She didn't notice the soft melody of flutes and drums that hummed softly into the room or feel the tendrils that inched over her skin like waves.
But from another bed Phedrea stirred, her eyes turning up to the window before resting her gaze on Sara. In the darkness of the room she felt it, listen to it, and, with her eyes shimmering softly and a smile curving her lips, she wondered.
With patience and something more in her eyes she watched Sara that night…
She watched and waited…
Watched as Sara fell into sleep…
Waited as dreams took her friend under…
'So, this is your answer?' she mused. 'Ought to be interesting.'
___________________________________________________________________________
Eyelids fluttered open, hazy jade brightening into bright green beneath the dark lashes as her vision cleared. Running a hand through her hair she could feel the rough texture of bark against her knuckles. Turning around her expression twisted into confusion. She had fallen asleep against a tree?
Look up into its branches she winced as a breath of wind swayed the leaves allowing a glare of sunlight to find her eyes.
Sunlight? Was it already morning?
She dared to look back up again, this time making sure to shield her eyes from the harsh light. The sun was almost straight over head. Almost noon.
Almost noon!?
Shocked into action she stood quickly. Her classes! She'd already missed two! Glancing around her she looked for something familiar. The grassy commons. The dorms. The imposing buildings.
Nothing… At least nothing that was familiar.
Where was she?
A sigh raked through her body as she let herself collapse back onto the grass, her back leaning once more into the tree. Closing her eyes she tilted her head back letting the sunlight play over her face, leaving it tingling with warmth. Idly she tugged at the leg of her jeans. Jean? Glancing down she realized that she was indeed dressed in a pair of faded blue jeans. Lifting her hand she tugged a piece of her shirt into view. It was one she remembered, one she had worn when she was younger; a loose white shirt with flowing sleeves, a vest sewn into it to give it decoration. It had been her mothers.
"I thought I'd sold this off years ago…" she tilted her head back against the tree. "Strange…" she let the word hang for a moment.
"What's strange?"
"This shirt. I haven't worn it in…" Sara trailed off, her eyes snapping open as she looked around.
"In?", the voice prompted.
It was so familiar, she knew she had heard it before.
"In years…" Sara finished, her voice faltering slightly.
"Mmm." The voice sounded again, "That is strange. You must not have grown much during those years."
Criticism? Was that criticism that she heard in the voice.
"Who are you to make comments like that?" she bit back, "You don't know me."
Laughter, deep and musical reached her. It was definitely male and was coming from behind her.
"Is that so…" the voice answered, a smile in its tone. "Is that really so… Sara?"
Sara sat still, her back rigid against the tree behind her. Her name lingered in the air between them. How?
In the stillness she could hear the rustling of grass and the soft footsteps that made their way around the tree. He had been on the other side of the tree the whole time? Forcing herself to relax she gaze out across the landscape at nothing. He wouldn't rattle her. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction.
He was beside her. She knew it. The footsteps had stopped next to her, but she wouldn't look at him. Cloth rustled, grass shifted, and she thought she heard the distinct rough sound of bark against his shirt.
He was sitting beside her.
Silence reigned between them for what seemed like hours and still she had not seen his face.
"How long, Sara?"
The voice was quite, calm, and, if she was perfectly honest with herself, very sexy. English, she decided.
"Hmm, Sara?"
Yes, definitely English.
"How long what?", she asked, irritation lining her voice.
"How long are we going to sit here in silence, with you ignoring my presence?" It wasn't what he had wanted to ask, but then, he couldn't rush it. He wouldn't chance bringing everything to the surface at once.
He wouldn't loss her.
"It seems that by starting this conversation you answered your own question."
He smirked towards her, she still refused to look at him. "Harsh and proud as always," he chuckled. "No matter how much you've grown, how much you've refined yourself, deep down you're still the same. So independent. So innocent."
Sara sniffed insulted. "You've no right to critique me," with that said she began to push herself up.
"Running away, Sara?"
"No.." she gritted out between her teeth. "Just thought that I'd explore this place a bit."
The surroundings were just beginning to dawn on her. The beauty. The peace. The colors. It was unreal. She was in what could only be described as a garden. In the distance she could make out the sand-colored line that curved off into the distance; a wall. Nearby, grass spread out and then narrowed toward a rambling rock pathway, flowers piling up at the edges like the crests of waves about to spill onto the shore.
Walking toward the path, she'd become so engrossed in the scenery that she started when she felt a hand wrap around her arm. He'd followed her.
"Let me give you the tour then."
"I can manage by myself." She tried to pull her arm free, but his grip only tightened, painless but firm.
"I insist." She wasn't going to make this easy. He smiled. Good, it would be more fun this way.
She didn't reply, but she didn't try to remove his hand again. Grinning, he threaded his arm through hers as he began to point out the finer points of the garden, naming off flowers and the deities that stood in stone within them. As time passed he could feel the muscles in her arm relax as she let herself be lead through the pathways.
As they approached the center of the garden Sara let out a strangled gasp and all but pulled him toward the marble fountain.
"It's magnificent," awe radiated from her face. "Who is she?"
Silently he studied the statue behind the cascading veil of water. The woman was nude, her hair falling in soft curls over the swells of her breasts, her face was serene and calm, a her lips curving into a smile that was both seductive and maternal.
"Diana, Aphrodite, Hera, Demeter, Hecatate, she has so many. Pick your favorite."
Sara could feel a change in him. A warm glow of pride. It seemed to spread to her through the contact of his hand. She was tempted then, tempted to look at him, but she looked into the pool under the fountain instead.
"She is the Goddess."
Sara could hear the smile in his voice as it deepened and intensified the musical tone in it. She broke, her gaze straying over in the water to his reflection. She gasped her hand coming up to cover her mouth. Where he should have been there was only a silver shadow sparkling across the rippling water. Transfixed she watched as the shadow moved over behind her. As his hands rested on her shoulders she knew that the shadows owner had moved too.
He leaned forward, enjoying the fear and wonder that radiated off of her and whispered.
Sara shivered as he whispered, his breath warm against the shell of her ear.
"It's only a reflection, Sara. A shadow of who I am. Next time just look at me…"
*"Enough… Sara! Wake up…"*
She felt him move back and felt another person's arms wrap around her, protecting and comforting. In the water she watched herself be enveloped in a red haze, another shimmering shadow. It felt nice.
"Wake up, Sara"
It felt familiar…
Sara watch the garden melt away.
"Sara, wake up now."
Sara opened her eyes and found herself looking into a pair of violet eyes. Phedrea's arms were wrapped tightly about Sara as she sat with her back against the head of Sara's bed.
"Phedrea?"
A warm smile peaked the corners of her friends face.
"Welcome back…"
______________________________________________________________________________
"Back?"
Phedrea smiled as Sara searched the room. "You were dreaming, Sara."
Sara shuddered and Phedrea lifted a hand to stroke her hair, her other arm continuing to hold Sara against her.
"I'm dizzy…" Sara muttered, pressing a hand to her head, trying to stop the spinning. "That's not normal, is it?"
'The dizziness will pass.' Phedrea thought and chuckled, "I don't think the ordinary rules of normal apply to you. And why you would want it to, I don't understand."
"Well then, you have nothing to worry about then. You're as far from normal as anyone can get." The spinning was drifting to a halt and she actually ventured a smile to make sure her face could still move.
"Flatterer," Phedrea laughed.
Sara joined in and Phedrea was pleased to feel her body relax. She had been worried for a moment. She'd have to be more watchful. When a man's mind was focused on one goal he tended to ignore the danger and forget precautions.
'Fool. You don't deserve her.' Phedrea's arm instinctively tightened around Sara. She started as she felt Sara's hand on her arm.
"It's okay, Phae." Sara turned her head around and smiled. "I'm okay."
Phedrea looked at her for a moment and then sighed as a grin broke over her face. "That's what you always say."
"And you always ignore what I say and worry anyway."
"Habits are hard to break."
"They are…"
She could hear something sad behind Sara's words and rushed to stop the thoughts behind them.
"Put on a few pounds? You're getting heavier."
Pushing up and away from Phedrea's embrace, Sara turned, insult bringing color to her face. "You didn't have any trouble moving me into your lap so I couldn't have been that heavy. Besides, you didn't need to hold me in the first place. I didn't ask you to, so don't complain that I'm too heavy. And another thing…"
Her words trailed off as she sat there watching Phedrea shake with silent laughter.
"You did that on purpose." Sara said, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
"You should see your face." Phedrea pushed out between gasps. "You're so touchy. God, Sar- Mph!"
Phedrea fell over onto the floor, the breath knocked from her lungs. Sara kneeled on the edge of the bed looking down at her, a pillow held tightly in her hands and a smile of satisfaction on her face.
"Touchy am I?"
"And violent apparently."
The amused southern voice answered, half stifled from sleep.
"Sorry Jennifer. We didn't mean to wake you."
"What's this we thing? I'm not sorry at all. If I don't get to sleep why should she?" Phedrea grinned over at the sleep rumpled brunette.
"I haven't had a proper night's sleep since I met either of you. Now you've decided to have pillow fights in the middle of the night."
"It didn't start like tha-"
The pillow landed smack on Sara's face causing her to topple down on top of Phedrea.
"And without inviting me to join." Jennifer said with satisfaction. "I'm hurt." The smile was spreading over her face, despite her effort to be serious.
Laughter erupted suddenly as two pillows sped across the room and into a shocked brunette.
The fight was on…
Pillows and insults hurled across the room and a few hours later, when the fight had ended and Sara went back to bed, the incidents of the dream were shoved to the back of her thoughts.
----------
As Sara sank into sleep Phedrea smiled.
"No more dreams tonight, Sara."
In the darkness, her eyes shimmered slightly.
"I promise."
__________________________________________________________________________________
TBC…
Please leave a review and tell me what you thought. I will try to get the next chapter out as soon as I can.
)o( Blessed Be )o(
Alexandrite Moonlight
