Back in the Realms
Jaenelle puzzled over the girl after she left. She puzzled all the way through her Moon's blood time, and she puzzled even more until Daemon was going to go crazy. He stood behind Jaenelle while she puzzled in a chair and started to massage her neck and shoulders gently. Jaenelle relaxed into the touch, feeling slightly frustrated. She could almost read Daemon's thoughts without having to actually read his thoughts.
"I just don't get it," she admitted. "This girl spoke the Old Tongue like it was a first language. She doesn't have any power, and she's certainly not blood! Yet she displays the attitude of an Eiryan when she isn't completely confused. Then again, this place isn't exactly clear and simple." Jaenelle shook her head and took hold of one of Daemon's hand, kissing the palm gently. "I need to stop thinking about this," Jaenelle muttered. "Yet, this girl, she said her name was Malory, she had something weird about her. It's almost familiar..."
Daemon kissed Jaenelle's neck and picked her up in his arms. "You're tired," he said simply. He lay her down gently on the bed and then snuggled up next to her. "You should probably rest and find something else to think about."
"Like what?" Jaenelle snapped, somewhat frustrated. "How safe the realms should be now? What the hell is Surreal up to? Lucivar caught her coming out of another Red Moon house you know. It's just so... frustrating!" With a huff of breath, Jaenelle snuggled into Daemon's embrace further. Over the past ten years, the two had calmed down a little. No longer were the nights long and passionate and lusty, but there was still much love between the two. Daemon brushed a lock of Jaenelle's hair out of her face.
"Don't stress yourself, love," he sighed, rubbing her back gently. "I'm sure you'll get an answer soon."
Back on Earth
Malory stood awkwardly at the end of the hallway in her school. She'd been suspended for a week by simply reacting. That was it. Now she was back and she couldn't cross one hallway without whispers and staring from some other student. No, Malory currently didn't have many friends. She crossed this hallway now and felt utterly alone and stupid and awkward and like she wanted to hit someone. As usual. One female was bold enough to point and laugh, but Malory didn't do anything about it. She just glared and kept walking. Once she was at the end of the hallway, she spotted a familiar face, incredibly relieved.
Abbigale Smith was an incredibly plain female. She had plain brown hair that had darker brown streaks in them, her eyes were a bland shade of hazel, and she had a splatter of freckles on her nose and cheeks. She also was very plain in form. She was so average, no one would have guessed and she and Malory were common sparing partners when both were incredibly frustrated. Abbi didn't bother to look up when Malory took a seat beside her in the Calculus classroom. If those two were any good at anything academically, it was math.
"Heard about what happened with Lisa. Bitch," she muttered under her breath. "You should have told me. The difference between us is that I've never been caught." Under the cursing and insulting, Malory could tell Abbi was concerned and pissed that Malory hadn't confided in her. In a way to make it up, Malory punched Abbi roughly in the arm.
"Sparing at my house today? I might let you win this time," Malory said, a wicked grin on her face.
"Let me? Last I checked I can kick your ass fair and square," Abbi replied, a grin just as wicked forming on her own face.
And all was forgiven. Both girls had almost the exact same schedule, but each had a different class before and after lunch. While Malory was busy taking her frustration out in PE before lunch and then playing guitar during her free period after lunch, Abbi was busy having her FCS classes both times. Another sharp difference between the two was that Abbi was made to cook and clean and be the best soccer mom ever. Malory would probably never be a mother. Malory would never bring a child into such a strange and hurtful world because Malory knew she'd never protect them. Together, though, both of them made one hell of a duo. They seemed to get things done together, and they'd been best friends ever since Abbi knocked Malory off the swing during Preschool. They had hardly separated ever since.
While they powered through their school day, Malory and Abbi made plans to hang out over at Malory's house and Abbi would just stay the night.
By the end of the school day, both girls had calmed down considerably, but both were still planning on sparring. It kept both of them from losing their tempers on anything else, and each of them simply enjoyed it. While they got their things from their shared locker, Abbi blinked and looked at Malory's hand. It was bruised over the knuckles from when she punched another hole in her wall. Abbi grabbed the girl's wrist and examined the bruises.
"And you want to spar like this?" Abbi asked, eyebrows raised delicately.
Malory huffed out a breath. "Yes. Is that too hard? I've had my knuckles in worse condition and you know it." Both girls exchanged looks.
The heavy scarring on her hands and knuckles was from punching walls, trees, bricks, and other things when Malory could just no longer hold her temper. She'd also had both hands shoved away and into sharp objects so someone could make a clear shot during a street fight. Either way, the scars were plenty, and her hands had almost no feeling because of them. Abbi sighed and massaged the knuckle that was bruised. Malory didn't even wince when Abbi pressed hard. Both girls left and walked over to Malory's while Abbi kept massaging until the bruise had less swelling in it.
Back to the Ralms
Lucivar examined the door and tried to budge it. Somehow, someone used Craft to keep it from moving. Must have been Daemon Lucivar though, wondering how Daemon had learned the spell. It wasn't as if the door had Black locks on it, but it just simply didn't move. He assumed Jaenelle had taught him before turning and looked back at Daemonar.
Daemonar had started growing. He wasn't really a child anymore. Still, he was only 14. He was so young... Lucivar put the thought aside. Daemonar was also an Eyrien. He was a born warrior too, receiving training from Andulvar and Prothvar and other first circle males on how to fight. He had only started a couple of years ago. With a grim smile, Lucivar pointed to the door.
"Your mother didn't want me to tell you this, but this door is here. Do you know where it leads to?" he asked.
"No," Daemonar said, sniffing.
"Good. I don't either. Stay out of it until I have time to explore it. Understand?" If Lucivar hadn't told him about it, Daemonar would have found out some other way. Daemonar nodded and both left the door alone.
Back to Earth
Malory threw popcorn at Abbi and laughed hard. Her sides had started to hurt.
"No!" Abbi gasped. "I'm serious! After my Cooking II class, they called Lisa to the office and there was an officer there. He looked so pissed that he was picking his own daughter!"
Malory looked stunned, but she had a grim satisfaction in the fact that Lisa was busted by her own dad. "Good to see she's getting a piece of my crap too," Malory muttered, touching her bandages thoughtfully. It was a habit that made her think of all of the fighting and crap she was in now. Abbi shook her head and tsked.
"Shame on you for wishing ill will," she said. Malory was used to that speech. Despite Abbi's love for fighting too, she was one of those that didn't believe in holding grudges. Malory always held a grudge, so this wasn't an uncommon lecture.
"Sure... mom," she said. She snickered when Abbi aimed another piece of popcorn and missed. The movie they had been watching started rolling through the credits, and Abbi yawned. The two girls looked at the clock. It glared 1:36 AM at them as if to say they needed some sleep. Abbi plopped down on Malory's bed and closed her eyes, asleep in minutes. Malory was a little slower. She also started to panic a little When she'd been left alone for too long, she started thinking about what was behind the picture in her closet again.
After coming home during the incident that made the hole in the wall of her closet, she had left it alone for two days. Then curiosity drove her to look again. She didn't expect the hole to still be there. In fact, she was surprised it just wasn't some strange dream. After a while, Malory found herself consumed with the thought of what could be there. She peeked over at her sleeping friend. Finding Abbi snoring lightly in her bed, Malory packed her backpack with a notebook, some pencils, some money she had saved, and a knife she had hidden a long time ago. After thinking about it, she slipped the knife in her pocket. She didn't know how fast she may need it. She exchanged the dirty old bandages on her fists for cleaner ones, wrapping her fingers individually so she could still use her hands. After doing this for years, she was an expert.
She took a moment to just examine her closet. No one had come through to her side. She ran a hand through her short, curly hair before grabbing a baseball cap and covering her hair. She changed from pajamas into a pair of long jeans and a heavy sweatshirt that made her already small chest look nonexistent. Ready, she opened her closet door and slid behind the picture and into the hole.
It was dark. She left the hole long enough to grab her old, cheap flashlight and some extra batteries. This time when she went back in, she turned on the flashlight and lockated where she though she'd gone last time. There was only a door, and it was covering the only other entrance she could see.
With no other choice, she went to the door and looked at the lock on it. It seemed easy to pick. She looked in her backpack and took out a skinny mechanical pencil. There was a metal clip that held it to a pocket or whatever. She bent the metal until it broke and started to use the small piece to pick the lock. It was simple. After that, she turned the nob and opened the door, stumbling back into the other world.
She ducked her head under her baseball cap and left the door open behind her. Then she tip-toed into what she assumed was a kitchen the last time she was here. She spotted that the woman who had been there last time, the one without the knife, was in a room humming. Keeping her footsteps as light as possible, she tried to sneak to the other door at the end of the kitchen, planning to explore herself.
Her footsteps might not have been light enough. The woman was on her in a minute, looking confused and panicked.
She said something and gestured to a chair again. The language was so baffling. She'd never heard it before. The woman gestured to the chair again before leaving the room.
Malory took a second to debate on running. She looked back at the door and at the chair. Instead of heading out, she sat down in the chair and waited again for the only girl who could talk to her.
Jaenelle burst into Cassandra's home, looking winded. She had a very tired, irritated looking Daemon beside her. They had apparently both been sleeping since Jaenelle's hair looked messy, and Daemon was definitely cranky.
"Where is she?" she asked Cassandra.
Cassandra pointed to her kitchen and said, "In a chair, hopefully. I left her alone so I could alert you."
"You left her alone?" Jaenelle hissed, looking deadly. Her hands curled into tight little fists before she just shuffled into the kitchen. She looked at Malory with a grumpy little pout before plopping down in the chair next to her. She immediately switched her language to the Old Tongue.
"Why are you hear again?" she asked. "How did you get in? That door was locked and shielded by Daemon. I even set a certain Craft spell on the locks."
Malory looked confused. "You put a spell on it? Impossible. But if your talking about your second class lock, I simply pick-locked it."
Jaenelle paled visibly, but she didn't say anything. She took a minute to fluff her hair while she thought. She also twirled her wedding ring absently. Daemon sat down next to her and gently massaged her shoulders again.
"What is she saying?" he asked. Jaenelle looked at him and shook her head.
"She pick-locked the door and then just walked in. Your shields didn't stop her or anything. Neither did my Craft."
It was Daemon's turn to pale before nodding weakly. Jaenelle just kept fluffing her hair. Malory, feeling awkward once more, stood form her chair.
"I won't stay if you don't want me here. I was just a little curious. I guess I was just... I don't know. I'm leaving." Malory started to leave the kitchen, but Daemon was on her fast, speaking furiously and grabbing her wrist. Shocked and irritated, Malory curled her hand into a fist and punched him as hard as she could in his face. Daemon, caught off guard, was struck and fell backwards. He caught his balance before looking up, feeling himself starting to rise to the killing edge. The only thing that stopped him was Jaenelle's simple call of his name. Daemon stopped and looked at her.
"She's no threat to anyone," Jaenelle said. "When she was leaving, she wasn't leaving to plan something bad. She was confused." She turned to Malory and took the girl's wrist gently. There was a small bruise beginning around it.
Daemon, getting the sleepy look in his eyes, turned and left the room before his killing edge rose again.
"What the hell did I do?" Malory hissed at Jaenelle.
Jaenelle shook her head. "Daemon's always defensive of me. He's a Warlord Prince. When you were leaving, he thought you were going to someone who could use you to hurt us. You did get through his Black shields after all. To him, that's a threat to me he needs to get rid of."
Malory looked at her wrist, confused and frightened. Jaenelle spotted her look and smiled weakly. "If it makes you feel better," she said, "You don't hit like most of the girls here. You would have given him a black eye." Jaenelle then turned her attention to the bandaging on Malory's hands. "Where did you get these?" she asked, starting to unwrap them.
Malory snapped her hand out of Jaenelle's grip quickly. She started to redo the bandages. "When I'm pissed, I get a little violent. I sort of hit other things like walls and trees and stuff to keep from hitting people. That's all."
Jaenelle looked to be in deep thought again, her brows pinched together.
"Go back to your home and sleep tonight. Come back tomorrow if you still want to learn. Not at night, though. Daemon's already grumpy and now I'll need to calm him down." Jaenelle pat the girl's hand before withdrawing.
Malory nodded. She turned on her heel and headed back to the door. She slipped inside and closed it behind her, locking it firmly. She turned on her flashlight again and kept going until she was back in her own room. Abbi was still sleeping. The clock showed that she had been gone for two minutes. Malory was too tired to try and figure out why the clock only showed she'd been gone for two minutes when she was sure she'd been gone a couple of hours. She fell into bed next to Abbi and let sleep finally take her.
Jaenelle looked at Daemon and snuggled up next to him again. "She's not really that bad," she assured him. "She's just confused and curious and not sure which side to take. She also displays some... traits that point in a certain direction."
Daemon frowned. "Direction?" he asked, not sure he really wanted to hear it quite yet.
Jaenelle nodded her head. "She describes how violent she can be when she's upset. She displays care for females that's very strong. She displayed that trait the first time she was here, though, when she said she felt like I should be resting. She seems like a... Warlord Prince..." She waited while Daemon absorbed that piece of information.
"Impossible," he muttered. "She isn't really male. She's not even blood! She's just... something else."
Jaenelle spoke carefully in her darkest voice, "So am I."
Daemon gulped and kissed Jaenelle's hair. She was right, and he needed to accept that. He sighed. "Alright, so what are you doing about it?"
Jaenelle sighed. "She's going to learn about us. I may even teach her the language so no one kills each other. I'm just afraid she'll bring others, and we don't really know what her kind are like..."
"No one does," Daemon reminded her. "We'll find out through her."