Okay, so I sort of died. Actually, I went to college…THEN I died. Sorry about that, guys. I don't own the rights to Harry Potter. Also, I'm giving you guys a double whammy of chapters to read. But I do like this chapter; it took me forever to write, and even longer to edit. Hope you enjoy it.
-A/R-
Ch. 34: Born Again, Died Again
-A/R-
It was a bright, clear, yet somewhat crisp March morning. The sun shone brightly, its rays splashing into the room quietly and merrily, casting shadows in brief instances. They stretched their fingers to the green wallpaper and found a unique way of falling onto the eyelids of a sleeping little girl. Squinting as she opened her storm-grey eyes, the tiny child yawned, stretched, rubbed her eyes, and pulled her pink baby blanket about her. Yawning again, she placed her little feet on the cold, hardwood floor and stealthily made her way to her doorway, where her daddy had cleverly placed the doorknob in the center of the white door.
"Just imagine you're in the Shire, stepping out of Bag End, little elf," her daddy had told her when she asked him about it. He always liked to rearrange things in her room every once in a while; she used to watch him flick his wand about, but usually got bored until he played a game with her. That was always the best part.
Carefully, so as not to make a sound in the early morning, the little girl opened the door slowly, then stole out of the room, tiptoeing down the long hallway to the staircase. After looking through the bars of the banister, the child pushed her black hair out of her eyes – maybe Mommy could cut it today – and descended the staircase, making sure not to trip over her blanket or her nightgown.
When she reached the bottom of the stairs, she giggled, then placed her hand firmly over her mouth. It was so much fun to be up before everybody!
Silently, she tiptoed into the kitchen, but was soon dismayed to see Mommy already at work cracking eggs with her wand while mixing the pancake batter.
"Mommy!" the little girl whispered, her hands on her hips. "I was supposed to beat everyone!"
Elisia Centaria smiled, pulling a strand of her raven-black hair from her cheek. "Ah, but my little Princess isn't supposed to be awake at this hour. I wanted to have breakfast done before you came down, Aya."
Aya giggled. "That's okay. Can I help you make pancakes? Please, please, please?"
Elisia laughed. "Alright, alright. If that's what you want to do on your birthday, that's fine."
The best part about pancakes, Aya soon realized, wasn't the batter at all; it was the wonderful scent that wafted upwards from the old-fashioned stove her mommy used. Next to it sizzled the bacon, and next to that cooked the scrambled eggs. All in all, the kitchen smelled of the greatest food Aya had ever known.
"Could you do Mommy a favor and set the table, Princess?" Elisia asked as she motioned with her wand for the orange juice to pour itself.
Aya leaped from the chair she was standing on while watching the progress of breakfast, an activity that brought a bit of anxiety to her mother, and quickly and carefully took out placemats one by one. She was about to go and get the silverware when her mother stopped her.
"You need an extra place, Princess," Elisia said with a wink.
Frowning, Aya turned back to the table and counted on her fingers how many mats she had set. "One, two, three, four. One more? Becky needs a place?" she asked.
"No, no, we have a guest, Aya," Elisia replied as she turned towards the stove.
"Really? Who?" Aya asked, jumping up and down.
"Daddy and Duncan are still asleep, sweetheart," Elisia said calmly. Aya stopped and quickly resumed her chores.
"Who's gonna come, Mommy?" she asked again.
"You'll see," Elisia sang.
"Ohhhh, I hate that," Aya whined, her lower lip trembling.
-A/R-
Just as Elisia was placing the last of the pancakes on the table, Sieg marched into the kitchen, stretching and rubbing his hair from his face. "Morning, morning," he said cheerily, kissing his wife on the cheek. "Breakfast smells excellent!"
"Daddy!" Aya cried, running to him and pulling on his sleeve. "Mommy made pancakes and eggs and bacon and stuff, and I helped! And Mommy says someone's gonna come for breakfast, but she won't tell me who, and I really wanna know! Do you know?"
"Slow down, elf," Sieg said with a laugh, rubbing the top of his eldest daughter's head. "Maybe I know who's coming, but it's a secret. A very special secret!"
"Ohhhh!" Aya said, her lower lip trembling. "Please tell me? Pretty, pretty, pretty please?"
"Nope," her daddy answered. Aya sighed.
"Is Becky awake?" Elisia asked.
Sieg stood. "I'll go check."
"And get Duncan, too. He sleeps enough as it is," Elisia called.
"I do not," a voice retorted after a silent pop filled the room. Duncan appeared out of thin air, looking tousled, but relatively awake. His dark hair resembled more of his mother, but his dark eyes echoed his late grandfather on his father's side more than anything; his mannerisms, however, were so like his father that Elisia found herself scolding both of them on completely unrelated terms. But there was a spark in his face, some color in his cheeks that made Duncan appear full of life. Aya always liked to say that he looked like a cross between Peter Pevensie of Narnia and a picture of Peter Pan from her storybook.
"Please don't apparate in the house," Elisia said exasperatedly as she fixed her son's shirt.
"Sorry, Mum," Duncan replied. "I keep forgetting. Can't help it, you know…loads of fun."
"Yes, loads. Especially on your surprise visits from school," she replied with a smile. "You could get expelled for it, you know."
"Ah, at least I've got an excuse this time around, huh?" he chuckled, grabbing his sister, who squealed with delight. He started to tickle her mercilessly.
"Aï, Dunnie, stoppit!" Aya laughed. "Fiche-moi la paix! S'not fair! M-u-u-u-u-m!"
"Can we just get situated at the breakfast table?" Elisia said with a sigh.
But just then the doorbell rang; laughing, Aya pulled away from her brother and sprinted to the front door.
"So much for serenity," Elisia said quietly.
-A/R-
The best thing about her house were the many twists and turns in the corridors. Sometimes she pretended she was a princess in a labyrinth outwitting the Minotaur. As she slid in front of the door, her smile widened as she reached on her tiptoes and pulled the door open.
The first thing that caught her eye was the long, crooked nose; she always giggled when she saw it. Once her eyes caught the half-moon glasses, Aya laughed with delight.
"Grampa!"
Albus Dumbledore's smiling face always seemed to shed a bit more light into the room. As he stepped into the main entrance, he gathered the tiny girl in his arms and chuckled. "Didn't think your grampa would miss your birthday, do you?"
She loved calling him Grampa; all of her grandparents had died for one reason or another, so she thought the term fit into Dumbledore's persona. Her father may have objected to it – he thought it insulting to the great man – but Dumbledore had shrugged him off with a smile and a knowing wink. "Blood isn't as thick as you think," the old man had told him.
And that was the end of that.
So as Aya led her grandfather into the kitchen, skipping all the way there, she asked yet again why he never traveled through their fireplace anymore.
"Oh, but I can't," Dumbledore said. "Besides," he continued with a twinkle in his eyes, "I like the walk past the gate. The orchard is lovely and the sea breeze heaven-sent."
She agreed immediately – though she had no idea what "hevunsent" meant – and presented her Grampa in a loud voice as the two companions entered the kitchen. As Dumbledore went to greet her mommy and daddy, Aya leapt to the table, where her brother hungrily awaited his meal. "Did you say hi to Grampa?" she whispered.
Duncan looked about to choke, but said rather strongly, "Good morning, Professor Dumbledore."
"Good morning, Mr. Centaria," Dumbledore said with a smile. "I see the House Elves at school have scared you back to your mother's wonderful cooking." Aya's brother shifted his position and swallowed uncomfortably, but Dumbledore only winked. "I am certain," he continued, "the House Elves will not be too hurt by your momentary absence when family is involved."
"Christina said the same thing," Duncan replied ardently.
"Who?" Elisia asked, a knife hovering near her hand as it cut the butter into pieces.
Duncan eyed the knife as he said, "No one, Mum. Just a schoolmate."
-A/R-
Breakfast that morning consisted mainly of a constant flow of chatter, as if nostalgia had descended upon them. Time slowed down momentarily until the seconds seemed to stretch on into eternity…as if, to Aya, they had always been this way and would, God willing, continue that way forever. What could change it?
As the grownups around her began to talk of a few serious matters, Aya found herself falling unexpectedly silent and watchful. She watched her father, bent forward on his elbows, his eyes watching her mother as she spoon-fed Becky; her brother, talking animatedly about some concern that something called the Ministry had over a thing called an uprising. Aya didn't feel exactly bored, but knowing she could never contribute to something she knew nothing about, decided to retire to the playroom until they finished.
But before she could make her exit, her daddy caught her an winked. "Where are you going, little elf?"
"The playroom," she replied.
"Without opening a single present?" Sieg challenged.
And so the family and Dumbledore gathered in the family room, where a healthy pile of packages awaited the second youngest child of the Centaria clan. It is seldom ever mentioned how lightning fast children are when given the chance to open a present; their energy knows no bounds, yet when given something to open, they seem to glow with that flow of energy. Thus, four-year-old Aya ripped through her presents with gusto, until the room filled itself with bits of paper and laughter.
Her first present, one that Dumbledore himself had given her, had been a teddy bear with brown, shining eyes and soft, oatmeal-colored fur. She held onto it as she continued to open each of her presents: from her brother, a toy wand that shot real sparks when you waved it hard enough; her mother, a box of chocolate frogs, a toy unicorn that really moved, and a toy lion that, despite Duncan's disapproval, fell under a Muggle company.
But her father, with a large smile, gave her something quite unexpected.
"I know you're not old enough for it now," he said as she drew it out. "But I had it for a bit, and thought you should have it, too."
It was a one-volume edition of Lord of the Rings, tattered but in working order. Though a rarity in those days, and even harder to find when her daddy had attained it, Aya knew that somehow he had managed. And, lo and behold, there was the end result resting heavily, yet comfortably in her hands.
Sieg, catching a disapproving look from his wife, grinned. "What?"
"Lord of the Rings, Sieg?" Elisia asked, her eyes narrowed, her ivory-colored arms almost reaching out protectively to her daughter. "Isn't that….a bit violent for a four-year-old? She won't be able to read it."
"Oh, come off it," Sieg challenged with a laugh. "Orcs and dark lords and twisted, precious-naming creatures and epic battles are just what little girls need. Besides, she's an excellent reader."
"Stop it. You're getting her excited," Elisia answered, eyeing the gleam in Aya's eyes as the mother absent-mindedly played with the gold necklace she always wore. Sieg laughed and kissed his wife.
Dumbledore stood, patting Aya on the head as he caught the little girl's parents' attention.
"Coffee, Professor?" Elisia asked sweetly, trying to hide something.
"I'd be honored," Dumbledore replied. The three moved off to the kitchen, speaking in low tones.
Elisia turned back to her son and said, "Darling, would you take the girls outside to play for a moment? This won't take long."
"Can we play Peter Pan?" Aya asked.
Duncan groaned. "I get to be Peter Pan this time, not Wendy," he said as he gathered his infant sister in his arms.
"But I wanna be Peter Pan!" Aya cried.
"You gotta catch me, then!" her brother cackled as he tore out the door.
"Come back!" his sister yelled as she chased after him.
-A/R-
Whatever transpired in the Centaria household between Dumbledore and her parents, Aya never knew that day. She was too busy playing games – from Peter Pan to Narnia – to really much care. By the time the afternoon was beginning to slip away, her father at last came out of the house. Aya was almost through being killed by her brother, the Great Lion Aslan, before she saw Sieg walking towards them.
"And what are we playing?" her father asked.
"Careful, Daddy!" Aya giggled from where she sat on the grass. "I'm the White Witch, the Queen of Narnia, and you don't watch out, I'll turn you to stone with my wand!" As if to prove it, she brandished her new toy wand she held in her hand.
"Forgive me, your Highness," Sieg said with a bow. "And who is this, may I ask?"
"Oh, that's Aslan…he's gonna kill me," Aya answered. Duncan bared his "claws" and growled.
"Then I shall have to change the story and save you, my Queen," Sieg said as he bent down to tickle his royal daughter. "And who is Becky?" He motioned to where Becky lay gurgling happily on a blanket near them.
"You're not supposed to move, Becky!" Aya called, worming her way out of her father's grasp. "She's Mr. Tumnus, but she's made of stone right now."
"Oh, I see," Sieg nodded wisely. "Aslan, would you amend that situation?" He gathered Becky into his arms. "Duncan, can I put you in charge again for the rest of the day? Your Mum and I need to run an errand."
"Sure, Pop," his son answered.
"What? Why?!" Aya whined.
"It's not serious, is it?" Duncan asked. "I mean…"
Sieg waved him off. "No, not this time, thank heavens. Just a few sightings in a Muggle village. The Ministry already dispatched some Aurors to fix a few memories, but they need your Mum and I for the other stuff."
Duncan raised an eyebrow. "That's the fifth one in a month, Dad. You sure it's not serious? I can come with you."
"I wanna come!" Aya said.
"Just the usual rundown, ask a few questions, scope out the area, act like tourists," Sieg replied.
"Daddy, can't we come?" Aya asked, pulling on his sleeve. "I promise to be good…Becky, too! It's my birthday!"
Duncan grinned. "Ah, come on, Dad. You promised not to work today. Besides, I can give you an extra hand, and Mum won't feel so nervous not having Aya and Becky where she can see them," Duncan pressed. "Besides, if it's just a clean-cut job, shouldn't be too bad, eh? What's the worst that could happen?"
"Your Mum killing me over it?" Sieg suggested.
"Please, Daddy?" Aya asked yet again, her lower lip trembling.
"I'm going to break you of that lip thing, little elf. One day, you mark my words. You'll have every boy fawning after you when you grow up if you don't watch that," Sieg said with a sigh. "Your Mum's going to murder me, you know."
-A/R-
Two hours later, a fuming Elisia, a bouncy Aya, a smug Duncan, a sleepy Becky, and a red-eared, sheepish-looking Siegg made their way down to the gate.
"Daddy," Aya asked. "Why can't you and Mum 'Prate us all?"
"We will, once we're outside the gate," Sieg answered, rubbing his ears. "We can't Apparate on the grounds, unless you want to go from the kitchen to upstairs or something."
"Why?" Aya inquired.
"Safety," Sieg replied with a smile.
"Why?"
"For protection, of course…like at your big brother's school," Sieg answered patiently.
"Why?"
"Stop asking so many questions," Duncan grumbled as the gate opened and shut behind them. "If you gotta ask, you'll never know."
"Alright, Duncan, enough with the surly older brother-ness," Elisia laughed. "I'll take Becky…Aya, go with your father. Hold her tight, Sieg." She vanished instantly with her youngest daughter amidst a small pop.
Duncan quickly followed suit.
"Now, hang on tight, elf," Sieg said with a wink. Aya clutched her father's sleeve as tightly as she could and closed her eyes.
In an instant, she felt as if she were speeding along at a violent pace while being stretched and squeezed through a tube that was much too small for her. She didn't particularly love the feeling, but it was much better than traveling by portkey and, from her brother's reports, certainly better than floo powder. For the brief amount of time she had, clutching her father as she barreled along beside him, she decided she would never try to floo herself anywhere, instantly grateful her fireplace didn't do that kind of stuff at all.
But then they landed, and Aya was forced to put thoughts of fireplaces and travel from her mind. She stared at the little hub of a town somewhere in the English countryside. As she let go of her father's sleeve at last, she heard him mention something about Oxford to her mother.
The town was truly a tiny hub of a place, lying on the outskirts of a large, thick forest that reminded Aya strongly of the woods near Hobbiton. It was growing sharply cold as it neared five o'clock. Night would fall in just a few hours, and Aya almost wished she had stayed at home instead of going to this cold place. Nevertheless, she followed her family down the small hill they had landed on to the town below.
-A/R-
The small, cobbled streets and tight string of houses and small shops provided a bit of shelter from the growing country wind; the village lived so close to the woods that Aya could actually hear the groan of tree branches in the wind, a sound that was often hard to forget.
Elisia pulled little Aya along down the street until they reached a crowded shop on the outskirts of town. "Go inside and get warm, okay?" she whispered to her daughter as she handed Becky over. "And hold on tight to Becky…don't let her out of her sight for a second, okay? Daddy and I won't be too long. Duncan, go with them."
"Ah, Mum…can't I just go with you? Aya can handle herself."
One strong look from his mother sent him half-sprinting into the shop, Aya's elbow clutched firmly in his grasp.
The shop inside was a brightly lit toffee shop, full of barrels overflowing with toffee of all shapes, sizes, and colors. As Aya maneuvered her way around the crowded shop with her sister, keeping a close eye on her brother so as not to get lost, she drank in the rows of toffee tucked neatly into little shelves. Although not as exciting as shops in places like Diagon Alley, Aya still felt that Muggle shops were just as enchanting. They still housed the same people, although they were not entirely clothed in robes. And, the shopkeepers were always just as nice.
But she should have watched where she stepped, at least before she collided softly into another customer nearly four times as big as she.
The man who stood before her looked ready to snap back at her, but upon seeing who had bumped into him, apparently thought better. His mouth, once in a frown, curled into a wolfish grin as his strange eyes glinted.
"Hello, there," the man said in a scratchy, guttural voice as if it were on the brink of sickening exhaustion.
"Hello," Aya replied quietly, clutching her baby sister a little closer to her chest.
"And you might you be?" the man asked, bending low.
Aya bit her lip as she stared up at this towering man. "My Mum says I'm not supposed to talk to people I don't know," she replied stiffly. "But I'm sorry I bumped into you, sir."
"No, no, not at all," the man grinned. "Accidents happen, my sweet, and not all of us are prone to stopping them, now are we?"
Aya shook her head.
"Where is your mum, my pet?" the man asked sweetly as he reached behind her ear and produced a toffee as if by magic. He winked as Aya's growing smile broke into a giggle.
"Dunno…outside, I guess," she replied as she took the toffee from him.
"Excuse me…who are you?" Aya turned quickly around as her brother grasped her shoulder, expertly taking the man's gift from her. Quickly, he took Becky from Aya's arms.
The man stood and extended his rather hairy hand. "Pardon me…my name is Fen," the new acquaintance said. "I was just apologizing for running into your sister, I presume? Forgive me for not introducing myself effectively."
Duncan's eyes narrowed, and he did not accept the man's hand. "I'm sorry, Mr. Fen, but I'm afraid my sister and I need to be going. Good day to you." He turned and left, dragging Aya with him. Aya stole one last glance at the man; the tall, bulky persona stood, and his eyes glinted as he smiled. Then he winked at her and seemed to almost sprint out of the shop into the dying sunshine.
-A/R-
"Didn't Mum and Dad tell you never to talk to strangers?!" Duncan roared as they reached the street.
"Sorry."
"Sorry?! Aya, the man could've…I dunno, kidnapped you or something! How can you be so dense sometimes?"
Aya stamped her foot. "You don't hafta be mean about it!!"
Duncan sighed. "I'm looking out for you, is all. It's my job, remember, kid? Now let's find Mum and Dad before we get into more trouble."
The three siblings made their way down the street to the forest's edge just outside of town; they reached a small group of people crowded together, talking animatedly.
"I'm telling you, I saw it," a balding man said hurriedly as Aya and her two siblings came into earshot. "Just like before."
"No need to worry, I'm sure what you saw was seemingly out of the ordinary, but probably just a bit of your imagination," a Ministry official in Muggle clothing said sternly. "Now people, if you would all follow me over here, I can tell you exactly what happened."
The crowd complied, and Aya was finally able to move towards her parents, who were talking in low voices with another Ministry official.
"I'm not quite sure we've got it all…but if it's true, we may have to check it out," Sieg was saying.
"Now? Are you mad? It's almost nightfall…besides, how would you see anything?" the official replied.
"That's true, but we need to scope the area, make sure it's safe for these people," Elisia reassured him.
"Try not to cross my wife in matters like these…she can be quite the stickler, if you catch my drift," Sieg said with a wink.
The official sighed, but consented.
"Daddy!" Aya called sweetly as she ran the rest of the way to him.
"Well, there's my elf," Sieg chuckled as he gathered her into his arms and kissed her cheek. "Not being too much trouble for your poor brother, I hope?"
"Is it time to go home yet?" Duncan asked as she shifted Becky in his arms.
"Not quite," Elisia answered. "Something doesn't feel quite right…your father and I are going to check everything out before we go."
Aya pouted. "You're not really, are you, Mommy?"
Sieg chuckled as he set his eldest daughter on the ground. "Afraid so, little elf. There's not much else we can do about it."
"Then I'll take Aya and Becky home," Duncan offered. "Can I borrow the key?"
Sieg blushed. "Er…"
"Oh, for heaven's sake," Elisia said curtly. "You haven't forgotten to bring it again, have you?"
"Now, now, Pocket," Sieg said, throwing his arms in front of him as his wife advanced. "Let's not be too hasty…Aya, protect me, would you?"
"And let me guess…you never told your son the spell to get in, either, did you," Elisia hissed.
"Well, I meant to get around to it, but…well, you see, I…uh…"
Elisia grabbed her husband's ear, slapped a few coins into her son's free hand, and said rather curtly, "You kids go on a get a hot cocoa or something…your idiot father and I have some things to discuss while we're doing our job."
"Um…bye, Daddy," Aya called.
"Ow…bye…ow, bye, little elf!"
"Sweetheart," Elisia said sweetly, "we'll be back in a minute, alright? Hey! Sieg Duncan Centaria, don't you dare sneak a kiss!"
-A/R-
It was well into the night. Lights burned brightly in windows all along the Muggle street and the rare passersby walked swiftly to get out of the chill.
Duncan returned with a second helping of hot cocoa, set the two drinks on the table, and tended to his sleeping baby sister.
Aya sat with her chin in her hand, staring moodily at the full moon directly above the outlining forest. She sighed as she gazed at the bright orb, nearly transfixed in her growing boredom and melancholy.
Duncan slipped a steaming hot cocoa towards her and grinned. "And many happy returns."
"When are they coming back?" she asked.
"Dunno…a while, I guess," he answered as he checked his watch. "Is three hours a while, do you think?"
"That's almost forever," Aya sniffed. "I'm bored and I want Mommy and Daddy."
"Well, Mum and Dad are busy…but I'm here!" he replied cheerily. "We can play a game, like I-Spy."
Aya sighed.
After another two hours' worth of several different games, even Duncan had to admit he was worried. When his watch read a quarter to eleven, he pushed back his chair.
"Where're you going?" Aya asked, standing also.
"I'm going to look for them…I don't like this."
"We're coming, too!"
"Duncan shook his head. "You can't come."
"Well, what do you think Mommy will say when I tell her you left Becky and me?"
-A/R-
The night air was crisp and cut to the skin. Aya shivered as she tagged along behind her brother, her arms crossed against the chill.
Though the three siblings had left the lights of the small town behind them, they were guided by the light of the full moon above them until they reached the woods. And then, they walked into bits of shattered moonlight and deep shadows.
As the sounds of the forest reached Aya's ears, she trembled and clutched her brother's sleeve; Becky stirred in her brother's arms, but if she had woken, neither could tell. It was too dark to see.
As they trekked deeper into the forest, a low, lonely cry echoed towards them. Aya whimpered. "What is it?" she whispered.
"Sounds like a wolf," Duncan answered.
Aya clutched his sleeve a little tighter. "Dunnie, I'm scared."
"It's alright…here, take Becky and I'll give us some light." As Aya took her infant sister, Duncan withdrew his wand. "Lumos," he whispered, and they were instantly bathed in light.
Aya would never truly be sure what happened then. Perhaps it was because she was too blinded by the light emanating from her brother's wand. Or perhaps she was too paralyzed with fear.
But she would always remember the great pair of glowing eyes that jumped out at her from the darkness. It blended with the shadows, and the instant that it touched her brother's light, it grew into the form of a huge, gray wolf nearly thrice Aya's height, and just as much in width.
The wolf's snapping jaws clamped down on Duncan's arm first until the bone of his arm cracked. Duncan screamed, but refused to let go of his wand. With a superhuman effort, he swung his good arm at the creature's jaw, tearing more skin from bone as he missed poorly but made contact with its eye instead. Howling, the wolf released his hold and staggered back, snarling; frothy, bloody foam dripped from its mouth.
Duncan groaned and staggered, but held firm. As the creature made to leap again, Duncan calmly pointed his wand at the beast and cried in a powerful voice, "EXPELLIARMUS!"
A hot jet poured from his wand tip, striking the wolf as it leapt square in the chest. The beast hurtled back into the shrubbery with a sharp yelp and collided into the nearest tree.
But there were other snarls, too…snarls and howls that grew closer and closer to Duncan and his two sisters.
Duncan fell to his knees, clutching the ragged mess that was his right arm. He groaned, wincing as he readjusted his hold on his arm. Then he turned to his white-faced sister and grinned. "Aya, you listen very, very carefully…okay…?
Her lip trembling, tears in her eyes, Aya nodded.
"I'm…gonna make a pass for you…as soon as I tell you…I want you to run as fast as you can back the way we came, okay? Take Becky…and you run. Don't look back. You go to that village…you find a house or a shop…and you stay there. If I don't come back, get a message to Dumbledore….'k?"
"But….but what about you?" Aya sobbed.
"I'm your big brother, Mum put me in charge…so…you do…as I tell you," Duncan answered, his breath in ragged gasps as he stood. The snarls grew closer, and in the gloom, Aya could see several glowing pairs of eyes all around them. Duncan narrowed his eyes, shrugging off his sister. "When I tell you, Aya."
As the first wolf stepped out of the bushes, Duncan whirled on his feet to face the other wolf that appeared out of the gloom, pointed his wand, and shouted, "EXPELLIARMUS!"
With a loud howl, the wolf flew back into its brethren and rolled over, limp.
"AYA, NOW! RUN!"
Without a moment's hesitation, Aya ran in the direction she hoped they had come, looking back briefly at her brother.
Duncan fired as many different spells as he could summon towards the advancing wolves, but the wound in his arm slowed him. As Aya was about to run out of sight, the same gray wolf as before leapt on top of her brother, his jaw at Duncan's throat in a splash of blood.
Aya's scream tore the wolf from his meal, and its eyes glinted as the male registered the tiny, fleeing girl that dripped with the scent of terror. It growled to its pack-mates, then licked its chops and tore after her, the rest of the pack following eagerly.
Aya ran wildly, Becky crying in her arms as she rounded tree after tree, her path blindly forgotten as she ran in sheer panic, the wolves not far behind her. If reason had still been with her, she might have realized that she had fallen dramatically off-course, following a careening, panicked trail that seemed to fold in on itself, spiraling ever deeper into the undisputed center of the woods. And before long, Aya slipped down her first hill to the muddy puddle below.
Face full of mud, baby sister now silent but quaking, Aya staggered to her feet and attempted to walk off, but stumbled in the darkness, tripping violently over a tree root as she pitched into the darkness.
The tree root, a silent sister, and the overbearing stench of mud and fouler things probably saved Aya's and her sister's lives. As her body came to a rest rather painfully behind a tree, the wolf pack came into sight, their noses and eyes scanning the area almost as normal humans would.
Making soft whines and low growls, they nudged and pushed each other, yet fell silent when the large, gray wolf, its mouth dripping blood, sauntered down the hill with a low, unforgettable growl. It sniffed near the mud puddle and sneezed, growling in frustration. Then, as if pondering something, it raised its snout to the full moon and howled.
The strange cry rang in Aya's ears as she gritted her teeth and pressed her hands tightly to her ears. It penetrated her every thought, and every small movement she made was to recoil from it.
And then the wolf ceased its wail, and the pack followed it into the dense woods, unknowingly moving away from Aya's hiding place.
Slowly, shakily, Aya got to her feet; she held her sister close. Her lip was bleeding, she was covered in mud, and there were small cuts all over her tiny body from the lingering touch of tree branches. Sniveling, she limped off in the opposite direction of the woods, determined to survive and find her parents.
Yet it only took her barely fifty paces before she realized she was incredibly, horribly lost. Every turn she made only confused her more; her heart pounded in her chest from fear, barely thankful of the light the moon provided as she stepped over roots and pushed through shrubs until her clothes were ripped and frayed. Leaves clung to her hair. The blood on her lip had dried, yet she licked and bit her lip nonetheless in her growing paranoia. No glimmering lights of town windows greeted her, only more trees and the ever-present knowledge that her brother was dead and there famished wolves in the area.
How would she ever be able to tell her mother that Duncan was dead thanks to her?
She wiped furiously at her eyes with her free hand and pushed through yet another shrub into a clearing; she screamed.
The wolf before her lay with its jaws wide open, its eyes glowing. Its paws, outstretched on the forest floor, glistened with a dark, sticky fluid.
Aya stood, transfixed, as she stared death in the face. She pressed her back against the shrub she had just passed through and clutched Becky to her chest.
A minute passed.
Still the wolf lay, its paws outstretched, its mouth open and ready to devour this little girl that stood trembling before it.
And still, nothing happened.
Swallowing hard, Aya took a cautious step forward.
The wolf remained motionless, its eyes fixed on her.
Aya took another step, then another, and another, until she stood just inches from it. Quietly, her quavering hand outstretched, she rested her tiny hand on its head.
It never moved.
Aya breathed a sigh of relief; the creature had been dead probably long before she had entered the clearing.
The little girl looked around the clearing bathed in moonlight. In the dull, dying grass surrounded by trees, a dark liquid gleamed unceremoniously in the bluish light of the moon; even some of the trunks of the trees glistened with dark, unrecognizable stains. And at the farthest corner of the clearing sat a deep shadow.
Slowly, silently, the shadow raised its head, materializing slowly into a figure just outside the moonlight. Aya discerned a flash of teeth as the figure's face broke into a soft, lazy grin. Then it chuckled.
"Ha, ha," it said slowly. "Is that…you…little elf?"
"Daddy!" Aya cried, moving away from the wolf. She nearly stumbled as she sprinted to her father's side.
His clothes were stained with that awful, dark stuff; but the stuff didn't stop there. It nearly covered his face, his neck, his exposed shoulder, his hand. And it was especially dark on his right side. He grimaced when he followed Aya's stare.
"It's nothing," he whispered, placing an unsullied hand on Becky's pale forehead and watching Aya intently. "Nasty…bite…"
"Will you be okay? Where's Mommy?" Aya asked quickly.
Sieg did a rather curious thing that frightened Aya to her core. His eyes misted, then narrowed as he stared off towards the opposite side of the clearing. Curious, Aya looked as well, noticing how the grass was particularly stained and growing ever darker. The sticky stuff had splattered everywhere, heavily on the trees, but growing darker and darker as it reached a shadowy figure just touched by moonlight.
"Don't look over there."
Sieg's voice was sharp and commanding, yet tinged with something else…something Aya would never be able to fathom until many years later.
"Where's your brother?"
Aya looked up at her father, his eyes still fixed on the forbidden spot. Now would be the moment to tell him, but the words caught in her throat, plunging downwards into nothing. She swallowed and tried again, but the memory of Dunnie's arm, his steadfast gaze, the warmth of his blood on her face and chest, his words…it all stole the very breath from her lungs. And for the first time in her life, Aya felt the strange need to do what only grown-ups, as far as she knew, were allowed to and could do.
"He…went off looking for Mommy…told me to look for you, Daddy," Aya said quickly. Becky began to cry, but Aya cooed her into silence as her father stroked the infant's cheek.
"Is he nearby?" Sieg asked.
"Not far," Aya replied, then smiled. "He's getting all uppy and high, Daddy."
"Responsible," Sieg corrected. "I wish he had stuck close with you, but he…he's a good man."
"Yeah," Aya said, finding herself talking faster and faster. "He can be so mean, Daddy, but he's so nice. He even got me another hot cocoa, and Mommy never said to do it, too! And we played games today. He likes games, too. He plays fair."
"Of course he does," Sieg smiled, then stopped, his hand slipping to his wand. He winced as he moved, but said nothing as his hand went to his daughter's shoulder as if to shield his children.
Aya turned and screamed.
Yet another wolf had invaded the night, its eyes watching the three humans with an almost personified emotion. It advanced slowly, its tongue lolling as it nudged the dark figure Sieg had forbade Aya to look at; and as it did so, part of the figure slipped into the moonlight.
A soft, feminine hand bathed in blood, lay broken at the wrist where bone was exposed and frayed. The arm was mutilated, almost grotesque, while the rest of the body lay in darkness. Yet Aya could recognize that hand from anywhere.
And even then, the tears refused to come.
"Murderous bastard," Sieg snarled, standing upright in the shade of the tree. His kind eyes glimmered venomously. "I'll tear you apart."
"Daddy…" Aya whimpered, holding on to his bleeding hand.
"There's a river not too far from here; follow the flow of the river and it'll lead you near town. If they come for you, get into the mud of the riverbank and hide in the reeds with your sister. Whisper a lullaby in her ear if she cries; it helps calm her down. Make sure you both get good and muddy; they can't smell you if you're covered in mud. Now go on. I'll be right behind you."
"But…"
"Aya," Sieg said almost sternly but not unkindly, his eyes holding his daughter's face. "You must live. Swear to me that you will survive this night." His eyes fell to his youngest child and he smiled.
By now, another wolf had entered the clearing, closer to them by fifteen paces. Sieg turned and nonchalantly fired a spell at it; as the hot jet of liquid fire hit its companion, the first creature sprinted forward, leapt, and collided with her father, slamming him hard against the tree. Aya screamed again, but Sieg beat the thing off and pummeled another spell. Badly aimed, it hit just near the wolf's tail before the creature reared and charged again. Caught off-guard, Sieg slipped into the wolf's embrace, and man and beast collided again, falling to the ground in the shade of the tree. The wolf's jaw clamped sharply down on Sieg's stomach; the man screamed and smacked the creature's jaw with his bare hand, then turned to Aya and roared for her to run away.
And as Aya turned and ran, she caught a final glimpse of the inherent trait of the warrior's gleam in her father's eyes. It was as if all of the Centaria clan, all its pounding blood and pride had been reincarnated by fate in his eyes. There was almost a lazy grin on his face, the smile of a man of pride, of principle, facing the slap of fate on his brow. She almost thought she saw him wink before she ran like the helpless child she knew she was, wondering when that warrior's trait would ever run fire through her blood as it did through Sieg Centaria, the last son of his clan. One final charge from his blood, and it was over. Aya would never know what killed him, the teeth of the beast or the determination of her one-time protector.
Despite the added help of more moonlight, Aya's new flight for survival was not unlike the old one. Becky now was wailing, and there was nothing Aya could do to keep her calm at the moment. So she sprinted ever faster, growing aware of the two wolves following her closely. They kept a respective distance, not enough to keep her reassured of escape, but just barely out of eyesight. If she had known any better, Aya would have understood that they were deep in the thrill of the hunt. She prayed she would never understand it.
They snarled and whined hungrily behind her, zigzagging and pouncing like puppies, eager to catch up yet old enough to prolong the ecstasy that charged their lupine brains.
The pale glint of something caught Aya's eye, and her heart nearly leapt; the long ribbon of the river her father had told her about lay just twenty or so yards ahead of her, bending her way before sliding away from her path. Invigorated, Aya sped even faster towards her goal, hoping that Duncan had taught her enough about swimming.
Sensing the game was slipping away, the wolves howled with rage broke into a hard-set run, their teeth bared.
She was nearly there, nearly at the water's a little girl outrun wolves? It was worth a try at least. Her father would have tried it and would have had a grin on his face.
Just another hundred feet or less…half of that….even half of that…
Aya's heart burned in her chest, her lungs pushed past their small capacity. But she grit her teeth and kept going.
Hearing the wolves, Aya stole a glance back at the hellish monsters that tore towards her. Something caught at her foot, and suddenly she pitched forward. The ground rushed to embrace her. Becky flew from her arms as she hit the ground; the infant screamed once, sped like a bullet through the air, and struck the ground hard with a sickening sound. Becky didn't move once she had rolled to a stop.
Aya stared, numbed, at the bundle a few feet from her. "Becky…?" she whispered hoarsely, feeling as if she had dropped one of her mother's precious vases.
She barely flinched when one of the wolves flew past her, barely blinked when it opened its jaws and sank its teeth deep into the bundle with a sound like peanut shells crunching under a boot.
Aya heard the low panting behind her and numbly, slowly, turned to meet it.
The creature's wolfish grin widened as it lowered its head to her, slowly and deliberately aiming for her throat. A fiery rage ripped through her suddenly, and she unthinkingly withdrew her toy wand and thrust the tip deep into the wolf's eye.
A skewer of blood hit her face, the creature screamed and writhed, but Aya held firm. Its companion, stopping its meal for a moment, raised its head and made a strange, almost chuckling noise before it advanced with an eerie, lupine smile on its face. As it loomed close, Aya let the sparks from the wand fly; the wolf's eye sizzled like meat on a pan as it burned and cooked until sparks flew from the eye and onto the fur of the other wolf, igniting a small fire. Yelping, the lit wolf leaped and danced, running into its companion. Aya's wand was yanked from her gasp; she took the opportunity to turn and crawl forward. As the other wolf's skin began to burn, the wolf with the ruined eye howled and snarled, glaring at the little girl who had mutilated it.
Aya crawled on, her legs too sore to stand on. Her hand was just inches from the water's edge…
The searing pain of teeth sinking into flesh shook her to her core. She tried to scream, but no sound escaped her throat. The wolf, its eye still bleeding over the wand in its socket, held firmly on to Aya's ankle as her blood seeped down her foot. Aya gritted her teeth, trying to will herself to scream as an icy cold sensation spread form the creature's teeth, to her skin. It seeped deep into her bone, running through her bloodstream until her entire body felt chilled. Her body tensed, then suddenly relaxed as her eyes grew out of focus momentarily. The deep cold settled into the entire length of her body; the night seemed to grow slightly lighter; the scent of blood and befuddling mud grew stronger; ever sound grew more pronounced.
As the wolf released its hold on Aya's ankle, the two locked eyes. Gazing calmly into the deep blue of her assailant's remaining eye, Aya felt herself grow warm again as her body relaxed completely. The wolf sat back on its haunches and watched her with composure, as if all thought had escaped it. Its eye spoke of something else, as if some underlying purpose had been achieved. Or perhaps an unforeseen understanding had permeated from wolf to child. She couldn't comprehend the gleam in its almost human-looking eye. And then it narrowed its eye, sniffed, turned, and trotted off. It howled as it did so.
The sound penetrated every fiber of her being, as if there were something inside of her that answered the call at the same time, growing slowly, abiding its sweet time for a later – and even sweeter – event.
But she shook her head, fighting a sudden, bone-deep exhaustion as she realized the wolf would not finish her off as she had first thought. So, quietly, unable to stand, she crawled forward through the watery mud and slipped from the riverbank into the softly flowing waters of the river.
It was icy cold, the river. A deep dark swirling mess of churned mud and a cold so deep it seemed to crush her lungs. She sank towards the bottom, her tiny feet barely able to kick upwards as the surface rose above her. But perhaps the darkness was comforting; it hid her from the hellish world above, beyond the water. And maybe, just maybe, if she sank low enough, if she closed her eyes, maybe she could see them all again…
"You must live. Swear to me that you will survive this night."
Aya opened her eyes and again felt the searing pain in her ankle. Though the ice-cold water had stilled the bleeding, the warmth of her blood seemed to bring life back into her body. The words that echoed through her fatigued brain fueled her, and with an almost desperate determination, she tore at the water, climbing it like a ladder as she began to flow more freely with the current. Her arms extended upward, fighting for the surface. Her lungs screamed for the sweet air above, her father's voice whispered that she had live, had to survive, had to see another day.
She was only four, but she fought to live, battling death as if she were a grown woman filled with a new, savage energy; she was no longer a small child lost in a river.
Her fingers collided with a large piece of driftwood as she broke the surface at last. She clung to it as if it were her father himself, as if he had reached down to drag her from the depths and into his warm, safe arms. Perhaps it had been magic that the driftwood had appeared as if just for her. Or maybe it really was a last, dying gesture of her father's. She would never know, but as she clung to it, as sweet air filled her lungs and she threw up the water she had swallowed, as she gazed at the stars and the full moon before her cheek slapped against the driftwood and her eyes began to close, she thought she could hear the soft, deep rumbling of her father's approving, bubbly laughter. And if she tried hard enough, she could almost see that brief nod that always followed, his chin dipping downward and his eyes twinkling, even the worst of darkness.
-A/R-
There it is, folks. 27 pages of the first glimpse of the Centaria legacy. Revel in this work that took me MONTHS to complete. Actually, most of it was because I thought I lost the file on my computer…then I found it…then it wasn't compatible with the site, so I had to RETYPE it, but hey. It's still fresh. Let me know what you think.