The next morning did little to wield the comfort of a fresh new start. A morning where all the problems of yesterday are forgotten, and the only thing on one's mind is the present. Relief and tranquility are what mornings ought to bring, but for Riley, the morning only seemed to be the start of another day in which she had to worry for her sanity.
She had slept little the past night, tossing and turning, afraid that if she opened her eyes, Tymmie or worse, her mother, would be in her room, trying to take her over to the Atrox, an offer she didn't know she had the strength left to refuse. The nightmares plagued her, and she was at a loss of what she needed to do.
The obvious choice would be to take a day off, but she had tried that, and the haunting of her psyche had plagued her still. She hated the constant edge of paranoia that hung over her head like an evil shadow, and despised how she had to peer around every corner she took. She was used to feeling ignored, simple, perhaps even boring, but the disgusting feeling of weakness that clung to her made her shudder.
She had been so convinced she was strong, but now she wasn't as confident.
The second option would be to consult Jimena, yet even she seemed distant. Her answers were vague, and it felt like the possible takeover of evil in Riley was second to some more chaotic matter in her mind. She felt like a last priority, and perhaps she was.
She was gasping at straws now, desperate to find a way to correct her problem, her fear kept threatening to overtake her sanity.
Riley slowly rolled out of her bed, and the first thing she saw was her reflection in the mirror adjacent to it. Her eyes held purple baggies under them, and her features were clenched and gaunt. She looked as if she had seen a thousand miles of bad road, and was forced to walk barefoot for every one of them.
Thankfully, she didn't have to worry about attending school that day, it was a Saturday and that meant she was free to do as she pleased. Jimena basically allowed her to do whatever she wanted during the day, being that Riley wasn't exactly a mistrustful type of child. She was reliable, and both her and Jimena understood that.
Feeling the desirable need to skip a shower, Riley pulled her slightly greasy maroon hair into a disheveled ponytail. Keeping things simple, she threw on a pair of worn, holey jeans and a gray long john shirt with a ripped black tee shirt over it. Her weathered high tops slipped on her feet with ease, and the only thing pushing her for motivation was the unanswerable need to leave the apartment.
She felt like that most days. The irresistible crush of wanting to get up, leave, go wherever she wanted, and come back refreshed. Now with her mother out of the picture, Riley finally had the opportunity to do just that, and was thankful for Jimena's privileges.
She gently crept across the carpeted floor, knowing that Jimena would still be asleep, as it was early morning, and made her way to the kitchen. There, she wrote a note in her chicken scrawl saying she had gone out for a walk and didn't know when she would return, but promised to take the cell phone she and Jimena shared, in case of emergency.
Slipping the silver phone into her back pocket, Riley quickly departed from the apartment and out to the building. There was the slight chill clinging to the air of an early morning, and Riley had to reduce the need to shiver. It wasn't more that of the temperature, but the eerie notion that someone was watching in the dark shadows of the morning. She stole a glance at her watch, which she always kept on, to discover that it was barely six o' clock. She debated silently in the hallway whether or not to go and try to sleep or to just embrace her inner insomnia and grab a cup of coffee at the nearest gas station. With the horrible memory of her nightmare in the recesses of her mind, Riley chose the latter.
Her footsteps hardly made a sound on the carpet, yet her finely attuned ears swore they heard a faint shadow of her steps. She turned abruptly around to discover that nothing was there.
"You're going crazy," She muttered to herself, "Insomnia, paranoia, next I'll be talking to squirrels and other small woodland creatures." But her eyes betrayed her self-doubts, lingering on the area under the flight of stairs that was heavily shadowed.
"Adiuvo me nunc." She whispered, more to calm herself rather than invoke the Goddess's power.
She gently made her way to the exit doorway, and pushed it open. There was a second's delay however, when she thought she heard the sound of a stifled chuckle. She slowly shook her head and walked out the door.
Despite the earliness of the time, Los Angeles still remained one of the most bustling cities in the country. The sounds of people arguing over prices, and the smells of coffee and more exotic teas filled the air with a zesty aroma. Riley inhaled deep the not-quite fresh air that held the slight smell of smog, granted by the heavy pollution of the area.
Nevertheless, Riley was glad to be out of the apartment, and as soon as she had left the building, it felt as if a tremendous burden was lifted off of her.
She stuck her hands in her pockets and slowly walked down the streets. A few cafés and newsstands were open, but other than that, it was almost tranquil. Everything around her seemed to have a pattern.
The only exception would have to be the few extreme party-goers leaving from the clubs that occupied the downtown street, most of them intoxicated.
Feeling suddenly awkward as she noticed a rather large crowd exit The Shinedown, a more rowdier club, she was thankful when she saw an open coffee house, not bothering to even look at the name of the building or see who was inside, she trudged in.
The place smelled delicious, with steam coming off that portrayed mocha, Columbian, caramel, Vienna, hazelnut, and chai, Riley's personal favorite. And one look at all the raggedy couches and comfy armchairs convinced her she liked the place. The drapes, a maroon color similar to that of her hair, were parted to reveal the majesty of a Californian sunrise.
Of course, the surveying of her surroundings only took a few seconds to register, and when she realized who the two men arguing in hushed whispers at the front were, she wished she hadn't have come.
Tymmie, who appeared disheveled and was clad entirely in black clothing, was obviously one of the late partiers, yet Trysten, with a barista's puke green apron on, was obviously a worker there. It took a few moments for Riley to recognize Tymmie though, as he had died his hair a shade of jet black and most of his facial piercings were out.
Riley stood, frozen, unsure of what to do. Taking an additional few seconds to decide that it was time to leave, she slowly made her way towards the huge oak doors.
But naturally, Trysten took that moment to look up as she was almost out the door. A look of calm surprise took over his face, and Tymmie followed his gaze.
"Well, well." He snickered, "Hey Riley."
Trysten's face remained expressionless, but Riley could feel his urgency for her to go pulsating. Tymmie's emotions remained guarded, except that she could feel diminishing anger and a sudden bout of playfulness.
Riley felt her own face heating up, flustered at the situation. She wanted to leave, but taking a quick look out of a bay window portrayed an increasing crowd of business men going to their work stations, and thus, too many people to witness if there were a possible battle. Yet here, now noticing the only other audience was an elderly lady drinking a hot chocolate while she read her newspaper, she was at risk for an attack. It was especially dangerous, as she was unsure of what Trysten's motives were.
"I was, um, just leaving." She mumbled, heading for the door.
She could see the smirk on Tymmie's face, even if she wasn't facing him, "Sleep well last night?" he asked coyly.
She stopped dead in her tracks, unsure of what to do, feeling a sudden surge of bravery, she turned, "No, I didn't." Her eyes narrowed, "And I suspect you know why."
"Stop." Spoke Trysten gravely to Tymmie, then turned to Riley, "Riley, I would leave."
Tymmie shrugged nonchalantly as he leaned on a counter, looking smug as ever, "What ever gives you that idea?"
Riley froze rigid, still confused on what would be the best course of action, she looked at Trysten, "Do you know too?"
He nodded grimly, "I'm having nightmares of rather despicable characters as well." He slid a snide look to Tymmie out of the corner of his eyes. He then noticed the singular customer was looking at the three in profound interest, "But right now isn't the time to be discussing it."
Tymmie snorted, "It's the perfect time to discuss it." He looked at the old lady with a hardened stare from his steely gray eyes, and she suddenly picked up her newspaper and chocolate and left the little café.
Riley's uneasiness soon spread to full tension, she was more vulnerable now, that there was no bystanders, and she swallowed a hard lump in her throat, "What do you want with me?" She asked, trying to sound brave and hating the quaky feeling that climbed into her throat.
Tymmie grinned a malicious grin, "You'll see in time, dea, but for now, I think I'll keep you guessing." He stood up and began walking towards the doorway Riley stood in front of, as he passed her he leaned over and whispered in her ear, "Sweet dreams Riley." He shot her a lewd looking glance, and made his way out of the café, leaving Trysten and Riley alone.
An uneasy silence passed between Riley and Trysten at Tymmie's departure. Riley, normally cool, calm, and collected felt as if a thousand lakes of fire had passed through her.
"You know what's going on?!" She demanded, her voice dripping acid.
Trysten heaved a sigh, and went to work drying a dish, "Yes." He looked at her with weary eyes, "And no."
"Well, enlighten me." She spat, taking no effort to constrain her annoyance.
He seemed to ignore her for the moment, his eyes fixed on the porcelain plate he had finished cleaning, the sheerness of it reflected in the early morning lights, "What do you want to know?" He asked exasperatedly.
"Everything." She responded.
"You'll have to be a bit more specific," He muttered, coming out from behind the counter and sitting in at a table. Motioning across the table to a chair, he beckoned Riley over. She slowly obliged.
"First of all, what are you, Follower or no?" She kept her pale-eyed stare leveled with his. The piercing blue of his irises intimidated her slightly, but she was sure to keep the feeling hidden, lest it become incriminating.
"I'm not a Follower," He mumbled. His eyes slowly fell on the silver crescent amulet that dangled over her shirt. As if asking permission, his hand outstretched for it and he grabbed it between his fingers. After a few seconds, he let it drop back to its comfortable place. He lifted his hand up to Riley's eyelevel, and sure enough, there were no marks. "If I were, my fingers would be burnt."
She felt inclined to believe him, yet something about the atmosphere was unsettling, "Then what are you?"
"Before I answer that," He said coolly, "I'd like to know a little more about you."
She sighed and leaned back against the chair, "What's there to know? I'm a Daughter, sent to destroy evil, and that's basically it."
He sadly shook his head, "There must be more to it than that, Riley." He murmured, "Otherwise you wouldn't be receiving these dreams." There was a short pause before he continued, "There's something different about you, that separates you from the other Daughters. What is it?"
Riley shrugged, "In all honesty, there isn't. But even if there were, I wouldn't feel exactly comfortable giving you explicit details about the Daughters differences."
Half of his mouth twisted into a lopsided grin, "And why is that?"
"Because I don't even know what side you're on!" She protested, "Would you trust me, given the circumstances? You claim you're not a Follower, yet you know most of them by name, your band's lyrics are obviously Follower related, and your two best friends are Invitus."
"First of all," He replied calmly, "Former Invitus, also, you seem to be counting out the time we saved all four of you from Followers, including Tymmie."
"Yet you also seemed to have an almost friendly rivalry with him. Even a few moments ago, you were chatting idly." Riley countered.
"We were not chatting." He cut her statement short with harshness, "He's toying with me, trying to get a weakness exploited." He paused, "The nightmares you've been having? Well, they're my nightmares too."
She scrutinized his emotions. All she could feel were waves of sincerity and a hidden undertone of fear. Not fear of Tymmie, but it seemed to be a fear of himself, with a slight bit of self-loathing. She carefully considered her next words, "Then please explain to me why you're receiving the same dreams."
He sighed and placed his head in his hands, "Because of my father." He muttered.
"And why does your father have such a partial role in this?"
His eyes once again locked with hers and she sensed agitation, like a deer caught in the headlights, "He was a Follower. A rather influential Follower at that."
"So you are a Follower." Riley spoke quietly.
"No." He said, "Not yet anyway."
"But if your father-"
Trysten let out a short laugh, "I never knew my father. He died shortly after I was born, and correct me if I'm mistaken, but is not your mother a Follower?"
Riley bit her lip, "Yes."
Trysten gave a curt nod, "Then its unfair to assume I'm a Follower, simply because my father was one."
She nodded, "But why the dreams?"
Trysten shook his head, "For me, its tempting me, trying to drive me to chose the choice I've avoided for five years."
"And what choice is that?" Asked Riley patiently.
"Well Riley, I'm what they call a Lectus."
"A chosen one." Mumbled Riley, finally understanding. "Then…"
She felt Trysten's hand close gently over hers on the table, and she looked up at his face as he gravely muttered, "Then it probably means you're a Lecta."
Finished chapter three! Yay! Lol this was a pain in my tookus to write, so I hoped you enjoyed it.
Next Up: With Trysten's revelation in her mind, Riley tries hard to keep the stunning realization away from her fellow Daughters, and more importantly, Jimena.
Reviewers:
Christine Marguez: ; ) I know I know its too short, for that I apologize. But, the fact that it was simply a dream with almost no discussion comes into play later. I realize that may sound convenient, but you're just gonna have to trust me : - )
Lover of the Rain: Lol but the dream was important! Hehe, I hope this is soon enough
FirstEvil: Thank you, I'm glad you're liking it
Decorus Mortis: Awesome, looking forward to reading it. Haha, the fact that Cassandra's insane is a given, isn't it? : )
Sleepneeded911: grin I'm glad you noticed the similarities to Serena and Riley, it shall come into play later. Bum bum bum. Hehe, anyways, book 12 did annoy me for that reason, it felt as if she were cramming two or three books into one. But maybe I just have poor reading comprehension. Anyways, this chap most likely clarifies your questions on the whole lecta issue hehe, and all your questions shall be answered in time ; ) gah the stupid maintenance was irritating me too. I had this all ready to update yesterday. Sigh. It was originally 4 pages, but I got so bored I wrote another 4 lol.
Toodles
!Nym!