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I don’t know if I was more excited for college because I was learning or because it got me out of my mother’s house. “You have to call me every weekend, Wren!” my mother sobbed. I pretended not to hear her as I shoved another box into the already full Volkswagon Beetle. She only got this upset over big life changes and usually by the third day she’d have forgotten about it again. I forced a smile and turned around to face her. “Love you, Mom,” I said as I hugged her tiny four foot eight inch frame. It hit me then just how small she was to me now. I only stood six inches taller than her but my mind still held that image of the disciplinarian of my youth, towering over me and screaming that I wasn’t trying hard enough in school. Thankfully those days were gone now that I’d graduated high school.
I wiped a tear that had gathered at the corner of my eye and stepped back from my mother. She wiped away tears of her own. I climbed into the drivers seat and closed the door, quickly rolling down the window so that I could ease the worry I saw etched into her face. “Don’t worry, Mom. I’ll be fine. I probably won’t ever even leave the library!” She gave a small smile, still too choked up to speak. With one last wave, I pulled out of the driveway and headed toward my future. Excitement and anticipation built in my throat and butterflies filled my stomach. Endless possibilities, endless opportunities, and- my favorite- endless books!
The campus of George Mason University was packed with students and parents moving boxes, bags, and strangely enough, a giant inflatable palm tree, into the dorms. They all looked so lost. I followed the map that had been sent with my acceptance packet and found my room easily. It helped that I had visited the campus during the summer. I leaned on the door of room 218, my hands full of boxes with my map rested on top, and nearly fell through the doorway. “Watch it!” I heard a shriek from behind the door and quickly moved out of the way and further into the room. The door slammed shut and I saw the source of the shrill voice standing in the doorway to the bathroom.
Janey Jacobs was perfect. Perfect hair, perfect teeth, perfect boyfriend. And in my opinion, she was also a perfect b***h. “What the ********?!” she practically yelled. “I’m sorry! I was trying to balance my stuff so I could grab the door knob but it was already open and I--” Janey had already rolled her eyes, pushed past me, and snarled under her breath, “I don’t care.” I stood there for a second as she sat down on her bed and reached for her phone. “Um.. Okay,” I whispered to myself and set my belongings on the empty bed across the room from hers. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I hear her ask from behind me. “I have a room to myself this year. You don’t belong here.” Before I could answer that this was the room I had been assigned, she had bolted from her bed and out the door, no doubt in search of a staff member to complain to.
I sat down on my bed with a deep sigh and took in my surroundings. This was to be my home for the next four years. I stared at the obnoxious bubble gum pink that enveloped my roommates side of our room. Everything was pink. Her pillow and blankets, the calendar, the numerous cheer-leading awards. And on each award was written in gold- Janey Jacobs.
With a disgusted sigh, I turned to my empty side of the room. A blank canvas. I pulled my daisy solar dancer out of the box that sat next to me and placed it on the windowsill at the head of my bed. The sun filtered through the blinds just enough to catch the tiny solar panel at its base and it began to sway. The smallest things amused me sometimes and I smiled. It was only a start but at least I had made it to the campus without incident. With a boost of confidence and a new surge of energy, I went back to the car to retrieve the rest of my things.

“Please remember that your essays are due on Monday! No extensions will be given without a valid reason!” Professor Hughes called out as the class packed up and prepared to leave for the weekend. I tucked my biology book into my bag and slung it over my shoulder. “Hey Wren!” I looked up toward the doorway of the lecture hall. “You coming to Jake’s party tonight?” I blinked. Jake? Jake who? And who was this guy talking to me. I started up toward him and shrugged, “I don’t know.” He gave me a small smile, “you should. It’s a great way to get to know your neighbors.” I chuckled and shook my head. Now I remembered him. Eric, the weirdo who lived two doors down from me and had a thing for cheerleaders, though he’d never admit it was actually for one in particular- Janey.
“Yeah, I don’t know. I’ve got a lot of homework to do,” I lied. It was only the second week of classes and was actually ahead. I saw his face fall a little. “I’m sure Janey will be there though,” I added. That seemed to do the trick because he perked right back up. Of course, I left out the fact that she would probably be accompanied by her boyfriend Brad. He knew she was taken but I couldn’t dash all of his hopes. “Oh, really? Awesome,” he said as he tried and failed to hide his excitement. Well if you change your mind..” I nodded in understanding as his sentence trailed off and he ran off toward the dorms.
The last place I wanted to be was around a bunch of drunk idiots with loose lips and wandering hands. I shifted my bag to keep it from falling off of my shoulder and headed toward my favorite place in the world- the library. It was like walking into a fairy tale. Endless rows of books, knowledge on everything under the sun. I settled into a chair against the window and pulled my laptop from my bag. No new emails, nothing new on Facebook. I sighed and closed it, shaking my head. Some days I wished that I had a social life; that I was normal.
A loud scream came through the open window and I jumped. I looked out, not sure what to expect, and saw my roommate Janey hugging her best friend. The two of them jumped up and down with excitement as the rest of the cheer-leading team gather around. I rolled my eyes and sat back into my comfy armchair, trying to calm my now racing heartbeat. Most days, I was glad I wasn’t normal.
The quiet murmur of students studying together around me soon faded out as I lost myself in one of my favorite books. The words left off the page and painted the mountains around me and the river below. I was swept away on a voyage with strange companions, a quest laid before us that took us into uncharted lands. The winds filled out sails and adventure filled our hearts.
A shiver rose up my back and my eyes fluttered open. The cool evening breeze blew through the window beside me, sending goosebumps up my arms. How long had I been asleep? I glanced out the window and across the courtyard. Liberty Hall dormitory was still lit up and people stood just outside the doors, red solo cups in hand. I pulled my phone from my pocket to check the time. 11:27 pm. Jake’s party wouldn’t be over for another two hours at least.
I wandered down the aisles of the library, my fingers grazing the shiny spines of the books on the shelves. I had already read most of what was in the fiction and fantasy sections. Turning the corner, I skimmed the titles of this new section. “The Battle of Little Big Horn”, “Union Soldier, Confederate Brother”. The history section, my least favorite. Who wanted to read about humanity’s darkest moments instead of about sprawling green lands and mythical creatures?
A sharp pain sliced through my finger and up my arm, making me pull back and I brought the injured appendage to my mouth instinctively. I could taste the bitter metallic taste of blood and I searched the shelf for what I had caught myself on. Every book looked the same, wrapped neatly in the same protective plastic that all libraries seemed to use, a sticker at the base of the spine assigning it to this designated location. I pulled my hand from my mouth to see if it was still bleeding. Nothing! Not even a scratch!
I stood there, bewildered, trying to make sense of that had just happened. Was I really that tired? Conceding to defeat, I turned to grab my bag and head to bed when a shimmer caught my eye. Between a couple of old dusty books was a thin ribbon of silver. It shone almost as though it were a booklet made of tinfoil. Curious, I began to pull the books off of the shelf but the silver book disappeared.
“That’s it, Wren. You’ve lost it.” I scolded myself and returned the books back into their homes. I gathered up my things and headed back to the dorm. The chill of the night air caught me again and I cursed myself for not having thought to bring a sweater. The crowd that had gathered outside the dorm had dissipated and the music had quieted down. I thanked whatever goddess was looking down on me and hurried to the quiet comfort of my room.
As expected, Laney wasn’t home, probably still at the party. A fact that I was most thankful for as I tossed my bag onto my bed and headed into the bathroom for a hot shower. The steam filled my lungs and the warmth that washed over me took away the chill that had crept into my bones on the way back from the library. My plumeria body wash smelled extra sweet as I lathered it up and washed away the stress of the day. I winced a little when I reached my shoulder. “What the hell?” I massaged the sore spot but the dull ache persisted. I didn’t remember hitting my shoulder on anything. Brushing it off as my usual clumsiness, I took a deep breath and turned the water off, feeling much warmer but also more tired.
Wringing out my hair, I stepped out of the shower and over to the mirror that had fogged. I wrapped myself in the towel that I had left on the corner of the sink and wiped a single arc across the mirror with my hand. A pale reflection stared back at me, eyes the color of the Caribbean sea and hair like a dull copper penny. I’d never found myself to be pretty. My nose was too big, my eyes too small. But in that moment, I felt as though I were gazing at an angel and not my own face; each feature beautifully defined.
I blinked and the image blurred back into the drowned rat that I usually resembled after a shower. I wiped away the rest of the fog until the mirror was just a series of streaks and drops of water. Padding back into the room, my fluffy slippers sticking to my still wet feet, I found my comfiest pajamas and crawled into bed. I curled up and snuggled into my comforter, exhausted. That night I dreamt of angels.

Chapter 2-
“Oh my god, I know! Did you hear how he proposed? Right! So sweet!” I rolled over and covered my head with my pillow. Didn’t she know it was the weekend? Laney’s shrill voice, although muffled, still found it’s way through my blockade. “Brad better be next if he knows what's good for him.” I gave up my fight for sleep, climbed out of bed, and walked into the bathroom to wake myself up. ‘If he knows what’s good for him’? What kind of romance is that? I pondered as I washed my face. Maybe it was all of the fantasy novels that I had read about knights in shining armor and true love, but relationships was one thing I had just never figured out.
By the time I had come out of the bathroom, Laney was gone. I wasn’t surprised. After being told that her request for a private room was denied and that she had to have a roommate whether she liked it or not, Laney had ultimately settled on just ignoring my existence as often as possible. That worked for me. I quickly changed into a pair of jeans and a comfortable top before slipping on my sneakers and heading out the door.
I was just passing Jake and Eric’s room when I noticed that the door was open. I peered in nonchalantly as I walked by. The place was trashed. I suppose by party standards, that’s a good thing? “Hey Wren!” I jumped and whirled around. Eric stood only about a foot from me with a smile that kind of unnerved me. “H-Hey Eric,” I managed.
“I didn’t see you at the party last night. It was great!” He sauntered past me and back into his room, a new roll of trash bags in his hand. “Yeah,” I said as I leaned on the door frame. “I can see that.” He looked around the room sheepishly, just realizing how much of a mess there was and his smile faded a little. “Yeah.. This is going to take me forever,” he said sadly. “Where’s Jake?” I asked. “It was his party. Shouldn’t he be helping?”
Eric shook his head and picked up a stack of dirty cups. “No, didn’t you hear? He proposed to Chelsea last night and the two of them have taken off on a romantic weekend to celebrate.” At this he rolled his eyes. Something told me that he had had as much luck as I has in the love department. “Yeah, I head about a proposal,” I replied. That must have been what Laney was cooing over this morning. “Good for them, though.”
Eric just shrugged and turned to clean off the desk that had been used as a buffet table. I saw my chance and decided to take it. “Well good luck! I gotta get going to the library,” I waved and headed for the front doors. “I didn’t know you had a tattoo!” Confused, I turned back to him. The usual childlike wonder filled Eric’s face as he gawked at me. “What? No I don’t.” Now he was the one to look confused. “Huh? Then what’s that?” He pointed to my left shoulder at the bottom of my short sleeve. I lifted the sleeve to see what he was talking about and nearly fainted. A thin band of intricately woven lines encircled my upper arm. “What the ********?!
I shouted and frantically tried to scrub it off. Eric jumped up and took my hands to keep me from rubbing my arm raw. “Whoa! What is going on?”
The concern in his voice broke through my panic and I remembered where I was. “I have to go,” I mumbled and went back to my room, straight into the bathroom. I tried a washcloth, a loofah, a pumice stone- ouch!- and four different soaps, but nothing would even smear the mark that had manifested on my skin. Taking a few deep breaths to calm myself down, I reasoned that it was something I could just live with. Assuming that I could figure out the source and it wasn’t going to kill me. Maybe I was sleep walking? Into a tattoo shop? Or maybe I was kidnapped by aliens.
I practically threw myself into the chair at my desk and ripped my laptop out of my bag. The internet has to have an answer. My backpack made a metallic ping as it fell against the foot of my bed and its contents began to spill out. “Oh, for ******** sake!” I swore as I scooped them back in. My fingers grazed something as cold as ice and I stopped. I pulled the bag further open and between my textbooks was the same silver book from yesterday.
Cautiously, I lifted the item out of my bag and nearly dropped it on my desk. What the hell was going on? Morning sunlight filtered through the blinds and illuminated the cover for a split second, it almost looked like the book had turned to ice. I searched the front for a title or any clue as to what this was or where it had come from but found nothing. I didn’t dare open it. Weird s**t was already happening and I didn’t want to start any more.
I slid the book off of my desk and back into my bag, making as little contact with it as I could. Part of me wanted to just ignore it but my curiosity won out and I slipped the bag over my shoulder, grabbed my sweater, and headed for the library. If that was where all this hocus pocus had started, there must be an answer there somewhere too.

I sped across the courtyard, not caring who was looking at me like I was crazy, and in through the doors of the library. Thankfully most of the students had gone home for the weekend and the ones who hadn’t weren’t the type to study when they didn’t have to so the library was nearly empty. One figure did catch my attention in the far corner where I had just been the night before. His lean physique looked just as unruly hunched over as the shaggy mop of dirty blonde hair on his head.
“Hey Eric,” I said casually as I walked over. “Done cleaning already?” He must have caught the slight waver in my voice because his deep blue eyes showed concern when he looked up at me. “Wren!” He stood up and hugged me. I chuckled and awkwardly hugged him back before pulling away. “What was that for?”
“I was worried about you,” he admitted shyly. “You were really freaking out and then you ran off.” I smiled, touched by the fact that someone actually cared about my well-being. “Yeah, sorry about that. I had forgotten my sweater and had to go back for it.” Eric looked at me skeptically. He could tell I was full of s**t but not wanting to press the matter he asked, “so what book are you looking for?”
I hesitated. Right, that’s what you usually go to a library for. “Um, I’m not sure. It caught my attention yesterday but I don’t know what it’s called.” At least that time it wasn’t a total lie. “Oh, okay. Well, good luck,” he said and knelt back down to the shelf he had been looking at when I arrived. I felt a small pang of guilt. Was I being mean by brushing him off? Damn my over-caring nature!
“Actually, it was the tattoo,” I admitted. “I don’t know where it came from.” Eric looked at me from his place on the floor. “What? How do you not know?” I shrugged, “I just don’t. I woke up this morning and it was there.” Curiosity filled his eyes and I felt a little worried. Usually when he got that look he was suddenly obsessed by an idea and didn’t stop for a few hours. He jumped to his feet. “Let me see it again,” he demanded.
Not wanting to insult him now that I had finally opened up to him and honestly a tad curious, I lifted my sleeve and showed him the mark. “At least it’s not bad looking,” I mused aloud. “It’s almost like Celtic or Elven.” Eric righted himself and grabbed my wrist, beckoning me to follow him. “What the--? What are you doing?” He let go, his face apologetic, and continued toward the back of the library. Begrudgingly, I followed.
“What is going on?” I demanded. Eric put his finger to his lips and looked around to make sure that no one was listening. “I’ve seen this before,” he confessed. Now I was skeptical. “Eric,” I began. “No, I’m serious!” he insisted and withdrew further back into the corner. “Do you know Loudon Moore?”
I nodded slowly. “I’ve heard of him but I’ve never met him. He’s dating my roommate Janey Jacobs.” Eric took a deep breath and nodded in return. “Right,” he continued. “Loudon is also my roommate Jake’s best friend. Like, these guys go back all the way to diapers.” The humor in his voice lightened the tension that had filled the air. “And?” I asked. “This means what to me?” Ignorning my impatience, he continued his story.
“Jake and Loudon being best friends means that Loudon comes over nearly every day. About a week ago, Jake asked Loudon for help finding a ring for Chelsea. He said he’d been planning it since last year and spent all summer looking for the perfect one but hadn’t had any luck.” I nodded along, waiting for him to get to the point but not wanting to be rude by interrupting. “That got them catching up over what they had done all summer and Loudon told Jake that he’d gotten a tattoo.”
My heart jumped at the clue to my predicament and I leaned back against the wall. “He said his Gramps passed so he was going through the stuff he left him in his will while having a few beers. He passed out and woke up the next day with a tattoo. That tattoo,” he specified, pointing to my arm. “He figured he’d had more to drink than he though and went out and got it but I don’t think so.”
My face must have given away my confusion because Eric shrugged and added, “he honestly hates the thing. It’s not his style, even while drunk. He says it’s too girly.” I shrugged and nodded, agreeing that the likelihood wasn’t very high. Knowing Janey, her boyfriend couldn’t be too dissimilar; preppy, confident, annoying. “So now what?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” he sighed, his usual exuberance dying down. “I could call Jake and see if he knows where Loudon is but he’s out with Chelsea.” I frowned, discouraged. “I could try Laney,” I offered. Eric agreed, “okay, you try her and I’ll try Jake.” I slipped my arms into my sweater to cover the tattoo and put my backpack on, nervously aware of the secret it still contained. “Sounds good,” I breathed as we exited the library. I felt like I was losing my mind trying to wrap my head around this mystery but I was willing to follow any leads I could get.
When I got back to my room I sighed with relief. Janey was sitting on her bed, talking on the phone. “Janey,” I urged. “Janey I need to talk to you.” She waved me off and carried on her conversation. “Chelsea said she and Jake won’t be back until tomorrow night. What else is more important?” she whined. “But I want to go out tonight!” I could hear an exasperated sigh from the other end and Laney squealed with delight. “Yay! I’ll see you in ten minutes!” With that she hung up the phone and began dashing about, primping for her date.
“Laney,” I tried again. “It’s very important.” She scowled but didn’t turn from the mirror. “What?” she asked, applying an even layer of deep red lipstick. “I need to talk to Loudon.” She blinked and even I realized just how weird that sounded. “What for?” she asked, clearly irritated that I had asked anything of her, much less to talk with her boyfriend. “Um, it’s about the Bio project,” I lied. The less she knew, the better.
Her eyes grew furious. “Is that why he didn’t want to go out with me tonight?” I was taken aback. “What? No.” Laney’s face grew two shades darker. “Are you trying to steal my boyfriend?” she demanded. “You b***h!” “No! Laney, I--” I tried to explain what was going on without actually telling her anything but she stormed out the door, tears welling in her eyes. “What the ******** just happened??” I asked myself.
“I was wondering the same thing,” said Eric as he came through the already open door. “I heard yelling and saw Laney crying. Ii everything okay?” I couldn’t help but laugh. No, everything was not okay. “I have no clue!” I threw my hands up in the air and plopped down on the edge of my bed. Burying my head in my hands I took a deep shaky breath, overwhelmed. “Hey,” Eric uttered softly as he sat down beside me. “You alright?”
I sniffled and dropped my hands, tears welling to the surface. “I don’t know. I have no idea what’s happening or why and now my roommate hates me for something that isn’t even going on.” I shook my head and wiped my eyes before the tears could fall. I hated being so emotional in front of people. I felt like it was a sign of weakness. How did all the heroes in my favorite storied never break down and cry? Why couldn’t I be brave like them? Eric put his hand on my shoulder. “It’ll be okay,” he said and I knew he meant it.
“Am I interrupting something?” a voice called from the open doorway. A young man- who very much resembled those knights in shining armor- his brown hair falling into his face but not hiding his emerald eyes- took a step into the room. Eric’s hand quickly dropped from my shoulder and he blushed. “N-Nope, nothing Loudon!”
“Where’s Janey?” Loudon asked, searching the room got her. I cleared my throat and stood up. “Actually, she left. She was kind of upset.” Loudon rolled his eyes, which took me by surprise. “What now?” he groaned. “Well,” my cheeks flushed. “She thinks I’m trying to steal you. From her.” Loudon raised an eyebrow in confusion. “What?”
I shook my head and sighed. “It’s a really long story and I really need to talk to you. Eric said you could help me figure out what’s going on so he went to call Jake and I came here to talk to Janey but then she got mad because I said I needed to talk to you and I tried to explain but she wouldn’t listen,” I rambled. Loudon waved his hand to stop me and chuckled. “Whoa, whoa whoa. Calm down.” I took a deep breath and tried again. “Yesterday, I wen to the library and I found this book.” I picked up my bag from the floor and rifled through it for the shiny source of all of my troubles.
“And then this morning, I woke up with this,” I said as I tossed the book onto the bed and pulled up my sleeve. Loudon’s face went white and his eyes widened. “Where did you find that?” he asked, staring between the book and the tattoo, sounding terrified. “In the library, like I said,” I replied as he quickly shut and locked the door behind him. Now I was getting a bit freaked out. Loudon ran his hands through his hair and exhaled deeply before sitting on Janey’s bed and turning to Eric.
“How do you know about this? How MUCH do you know?” Were you with her when she found this?” he drilled. Eric shook his head and stood beside me, looking just as lost as I was. “I don’t know anything,” he insisted. “I just know her tattoo matches yours. I didn’t know anything about a book.” Loudon looked at me. “It’s true, this is the first time I’ve told anyone about it,” I confessed.
A struggle played across Loudons face. He stood up and began pacing the room, his hands fidgeting with anything they would find. Finally after about three minutes, he turned back to me and Eric. “To answer your question, yes, I know what this is about.” My whole body relaxed a bit and I sighed audibly. “But I can’t fix it,” Loudon cautioned. “It’s not something that can be fixed.” He clenched his teeth and looked toward the door with a small guttural growl. “We need to talk, but not here.”

The half hour drive to the Moore Estate was silent. Loudon’t eyes never left the road and his fists stayed clenched around the steering wheel. We pulled up to a gorgeous stone manor, sprawling green lawns on either side. I’m not sure which impressed me more- the house or the fact that the grass was still green this close to October. Clibing out of Loudon’s pickup truck, it struck me just how out of place he looked in his own home.
“Wow! This place is beautiful!” I exclaimed, taking in my surroundings. “Yeah,” Loudon muttered. “It’s alright.” He headed up the front steps and through the giant mahogany doors, motioning for us to follow him. I looked for Eric who had already made his way up the stairs and had paused at the top to study a potted plant. Was this really happening? Is every college experience this crazy?
“In here,” Loudon called from our left as we crossed the threshold and stood before a grand staircase. A giant portrait of three angels dressed for battle greeted us from above the mantle as we walked in to join him. The room it overlooked was dressed equally as regal; lush green velvet curtains framed windows that nearly touched the ceiling, the gray carpet nearly shone to silver in the light. More paintings decorated the walls, some of men and women, and others of still more angels, though all more demure than the one that Loudon now stood beneath.
“What’s going on?” Eric asked plainly. It was the first time he’d spoken since we left campus. “Sit, please.” Loudon gestured to the chairs and couches between us. I took a seat at the fireside and Eric sat on the couch across the coffee table from me. Wish a sigh, Loudon removed his jacket and set it behind Eric on the back of the couch. He pulled up his sleeve and revealed the same intricate design woven around his arm as had appeared on mine this morning.
“How?” I asked. It was all I could manage; I was a bundle of nerves. I clenched my teeth to try and stop the inner shaking. This close to the fire, I knew that it wasn’t because I was cold. Loudon closed his eyes for a minute, his face unreadable, and turned up to face the painting above him. “There’s an old family legend,” he began ominously, “that the Moore's are descendants of Angels.” He turned to see the incredulous looks that he suspected would be on our faces but found none. Surprised, he carried on.
“Most people thought it was just my great aunt Sophia being overly religious since she had found the church” He shook his head and sat on the couch beside Eric. “I thought so too. But then my Gramp died.” My heart broke. Poor guy. Eric patted him on the shoulder and Loudon shrugged. “It’s okay. He was old anyway.” I knew he was only speaking the truth but from the tone in his voice, I could tell that his grandfather was someone very dear to him.
“Anyway,” he sniffled and quickly wiped away a tear. “After Gramp passed away this summer Gram went through his belongings and found something that he had left to me.” He gestured to the sword that I now saw laying across the mantle. It looked as though it had just been polished moments before but I had a feeling that it hadn’t been in a very long time. The contrast to the black velvet cloth that it rested on provoked images in my mind of the ceremonial swords used by the military or during royal processions.
“There was no note, no explanation, just that ‘The family’s most priceless heirloom’ was to be given to me. I have no idea what that means. I thought it was just a nice sword.” He looked down at his right hand and flexed it a few times. “It sat on my dresser for the longest time. I don’t know what to do with a sword. Then about two months ago, when I started packing to go away to school, I came across it again. I figured the best place for it would be downstairs- here, in the drawing room.”
Confusion and pain etched on his face, he stood up and took the weapon from it’s place above the fire. “When I took it out of the bag to put it on display,” he started but hesitated. “I must have sliced my hand on the blade. Who knew something this old would be that sharp, right?” he chucked, looking back toward Eric and I. He took a step back and gracefully swung the blade above his head as if he were to be cutting a giant in two. I saw Eric flinch.
“The next thing I know, I’m waking up in my own bed the following morning, my hand is completely healed, and this thing was here.” He looked over at the band that encircled his arm with disgust. “At first, sure, I freaked out,” he admitted. “But when Aunt Sophia saw it at Gramps memorial service, she made the biggest fuss!” He stuck the blade into the floor hard and collapsed into the chair behind him, fingers still wound around the hilt. His head drooped and his voice followed suit.
“She kept going on and on about angels,” he said, embarassed. “About the family being descendents and the balance needing to be righted. About some damn legend that say a Moore would help to bring about peace on Earth.” He lifted his head and sat upright. “She’s senile,” he tried to reason. “If anyone asked, I told them that I had gotten drunk at a party and went to the shop with a bunch of buddies.” Eric and I exchanged glances and I nodded. He was right. It was a bullshit story.
“What about you?” Loudon asked. “I don’t see a sword.” I frowned and shook my head. “That’s because there is no sword” I pulled the book from my bag and set it on the coffee table, my fingers nearly freezing to the cover. “Just this book. Like you, I nicked my finger on the thing and woke up with the ink.” The fact that at least I didn't pass out was something that I smugly kept to myself. Loudon reached for the book and I flinched. “I’d be careful,” I warned. “You don’t know what it can do.”
His fingers caressed the cover. “It’s cold!” he remarked and I nodded. “Like ice,” I replied. He flipped through the thin book but looked more and more lost. “It’s not in English,” he lamented. Seeing that nothing bad happened when he touched it, I took the book from him and checked for myself. The pages were covered with writing that I had never seen before, somewhere between the straight lines of viking runes and the beautiful curves of calligraphy. I shook my head and set it down open on the table. “I don’t know that language either.”
Eric rose from his seat on the couch and knealt down on the floor beside the coffee table, studying the writing within. “It’s the Celestial Alphabet,” he said and both Loudon and I started. “The what?” Loudon asked before I could. “The Celestial Alphabet,” Eric said matter of factly. “It’s also known as Angelic Script.” He looked up at the two of us gawking at him and rose slowly. “What?” he asked shyly. “How the hell did you know that?” I blurted out.
He shrugged. “Lot’s of reading, I guess. It’s what I do. Bits and pieces of information from various books.” He pointed to the first like of the open page. “The celestial alphabet is actually based on both the Hebrew and Greek alphabets. Heinrich Agrippa developed it in the 16th century. This part here says: ‘And in the dawn a darkness grows/ The balance shifted/ And every Moore knows/ That the time has come to fight again/ Bring peace to Earth/ and goodwill toward Men’.”
Loudon looked dumbfounded. “Isn’t that what your aunt…?” I asked but he was already nodding. “I thought it was all just stupid family storied.” he muttered, staring at the sword in his hand. “Stuff that my parents and grandparents made up to make me feel brave when I was young.” He looked up at the painting. The same sword hung at the side of the angel to the right. “I never thought it could be true...” He trailed off, just as shocked as the rest of us.
“But what about me?” I wondered. “I’m not a Moore. I’m a Finley.” Both of the guys turned toward me. “How did I get roped into all of this mess?” I stood up, my voice rising with me. “This isn’t my fight! Balances and darkness, no thank you! I was perfectly content battling my way through college like a normal human being!” My chest heaved and I could feel the anger building in my throat. “It isn’t fair,” I argued though no one was arguing back. “I like READING adventure stories. Not living them!”
“Fair or not, this is what’s happening,” Loudon said as he stood up and crossed the room. He placed the sword back where it had been when we arrived and looked out the window. With the whirlwind of information and emotions inside, none of us had realized how late it had gotten. The sun was nearly set and a few stars had begun to twinkle in the darkest parts of the sky. “It’s getting late,” he announced, turning back to face us. “You guys can crash here tonight. My parents are out of town, spending time with Gram in Connecticut. We’ll pick back up in the morning.”
Although I detested being told what to do, I was admittedly pretty worn out. The roller coaster of emotions had me wiped. Eric must have been too because he let out a loud yawn. “Yup,” he said with a stretch. “Which way?” Loudon picked up his jacket from the back of the couch and headed up the stairs that we had passed on our way in. “There’s spare bedrooms down that way,” he said at the top of the stairs and pointed to the left. “Bathroom is the second door on the right.”
“Thanks,” I said groggily and headed down the hallway to the second room on the left across from the bathroom. Eric followed suit and chose the first room on the right, just before the bathroom. I flipped on the light and closed the heavy door behind me. Blue satin sheets and a lush down comforter beckoned me from across the room and I was happy to oblige. Slipping into bed was like wrapping up in the clouds and I wanted to lie just beneath the stars. That night I dreamt of soldiers.