Moonshadow (17 page)

Andrew stayed under for some time until he burst forth in a splash close to where Miri was standing, splashing her again with more water, and this time, without the use of magic.

Andrew made the face any mischievous child makes before he gets into trouble and then quickly made for the ladder. He climbed out of the pool, then ran from the backyard and into the house with his sister chasing close behind him.

The sight made Darien chuckle and Diana smiled at the thought of two magical siblings quarreling like any other brother and sister.

“We may want to stay out of their firing lines for a bit,” Darien said while gesturing to the pool chairs. “Care to sit a spell before brunch?”

“That sounds pretty nice, actually.” Diana took a much needed seat. “I haven’t sat since I woke up this morning.”

Diana’s gaze at the water of the pool, still amused by Andrew and Miri’s magical tuffle.

“What’s your twin like?” she asked Darien “Are you and your sister anything like those two?”

“We’ve always been close,” he replied with a smile. “As most twins usually are. We don’t quarrel quite as much as Miraena and Anderon, though.”

“Are twins really common among your people?”

“We’re all twins,” he replied, like it was common knowledge. “Every Naphalei soul splits into male and female in the mother’s womb and two children are always born. Women are also rarely able to give birth more than once.”

“Why?” Diana asked, curious. “Is labor more dangerous?”

“I don’t know very much about human pregnancy, but I think so. Something about our magical nature doesn’t cooperate with the physical nature we inherited from humans. From what I understand, Naphalei labor is the most painful and dangerous of all in the animal kingdom.”

“I’m glad I’m not an elf,” Diana replied with a relieved grin and then grew a little curious.

“How long have you been a Watcher?” she asked. “Why did you choose this university?”

Darien smiled, obviously wishing to talk about something else besides his sister or birth pains. “I joined the Order of Watchers just after the Second World War. Until then, I’d been a Seeker—a sort of history detective.”

“That sounds fun,” Diana said, intrigued.

“It was.” He seemed to be reflecting on better days. “I was apprenticed to the Keeper of the Chronicles—the historian of
Qir’Halzereth
, my homeland. As a Seeker, I was charged with going out into the world to find new knowledge.”

“You were a globe-trotting research assistant,” Diana interjected.

“Correct. I would go out among humanity and offer my assistance on various archaeological excavations and research projects in order to make new discoveries.”

“That sounds amazing, why would you ever leave that?”

“It wasn’t my decision,” he replied, with a hint of animosity.

“How so?”

“The humans caused a great panic throughout the entire Naphalei realm when they created a weapon more powerful than anything our most skilled magi of legend could have ever imagined.”

“The Atomic Bomb,” Diana interrupted upon realization. “I see what you mean; nuclear weapons can keep anyone up at night.”

“Indeed.” His own fears of the human weapon were present in his eyes. “Many blamed the Watchers for not recognizing the threat and neutralizing it before the technology was developed. Afterwards, the Watcher Mandate was passed and the order saw significant reorganization. As a result, those of us who were already in positions that required us to be in human lands were drafted into the Watchers.”

“Why do you choose to live on a college campus and not someplace like a corporate headquarters?”

“If we had greater numbers, Watchers would be posted at all levels of human society. As it is, we choose universities because they are where humans tend to develop new philosophies, ideas, and technologies.”

The notion made a certain amount of sense. All great discoveries and social revolutions began in places like college campuses. It had never occurred to Diana that college students could be at the cusp of social change. It made her wonder what she could possibly do to change the world.

She dismissed the thought as soon as it manifested in her mind. She was definitely a little too ordinary—and not charismatic enough—to start something like a social revolution or change the course of history.

Diana was startled by the sound of her stomach growling and could feel herself going red with embarrassment.

“Sorry,” she apologized with a sheepish smile. “I forgot to eat breakfast.”

“Then let’s eat.” He stood and extended his hand to Diana. “Brunch awaits, my dear Diana.”

She smiled as she took his hand and he helped her to her feet. “Lead the way, good sir,” she replied with mock politeness.

As the two walked into the house, Diana couldn’t stop feeling that her entire world would never be the same again.

Chapter 10

Though fated dream from God began my quest

I see now Holy Grail twas not its end.

Nay, Guinevere, thou art the true treasure.

No greater prize has a blind Seeker found.

Diana stared at her cell phone, waiting for the call or text message that she knew was about to arrive.

At 9:00 pm, as she expected—
Goodnight baby girl, I love thee
.

Lately, her dad had taken to saying
thee
in his texts for some reason. She suspected that it was a typo and that he just decided to send the same text message every night for convenience sake.

She was glad it was just a text tonight; it would have been hard to talk on the phone in the theater.

Looking around from her vantage point in the upper balcony, she couldn’t help but find the atmosphere pleasing. With a stage surrounded by magnificent, gilded, ornamentations of classical theater motifs of Bacchic vines and grapes, tragedy and comedy masks, and angelic creatures blowing their horns, the Ohio Theatre was a great example of those of its kind, built in the Art Deco style of the roaring twenties.

Looking to the empty seat beside her, Diana wondered why Darien hadn’t return from the concession stand. He’d been gone for quite a long time and she was getting lonely—and hungry.

Even so, it was nice to finally leave the campus; the last few weeks had been rather hectic, confusing, and quite awkward.

Diana always found the beginning of a new relationship uncomfortable. She never knew what to say or when to say it, or when to call or visit. The fear of coming across as too needy or overbearing was always a concern. Although, when she failed to make her intentions known, the guy in question would think she didn’t like him and then move on. There was a subtle balance to dating, and trying to understand the opposite sex had always frustrated Diana. A guy who was 280 years older than her—and from another species—was an entirely different monster altogether.

At first, she’d tried to act like Darien was a normal guy and that nothing much had changed—a good idea in theory, but it didn’t work out in practice. She couldn’t be alone with Darien for five minutes without jumping into a series of questions. He usually seemed excited to talk to her about his people, but his irritations seemed to be getting the better of him lately.

Darien also hardly ever asked Diana about humans; though she figured he’d watched and studied them for so long that he probably knew more about her own people than she did.

When he did ask her questions, or talk to her about human lifestyles, it was always with a tone of condescension or outright contempt. She’d quickly grown tired of Darien constantly belittling her culture.

She hoped tonight’s concert would open his eyes a bit.

During a recent session of studying together, Diana suggested that they listen to something besides Beethoven or Mozart for a change. She enjoyed classical music as much as the next person, but sometimes she needed something a little heavier. She had almost fallen asleep at the table.

Darien had protested, of course, not wishing to listen to animalistic tribal beats and sex lyrics that lacked beauty and creativity. Diana just stared at him for a while and then offered to enlighten his closed minded, and arrogant, viewpoint by taking him to a concert. Darien had seemed genuinely excited to go—if not for the music, but for the experience of being with her.

Diana put her phone safely away as she saw Darien finally approaching from the side aisle. He had a concession box consisting of a couple of hotdogs and a box of popcorn; a white cherry ICEE made the meal complete.

The box of snacks greatly contrasted with Darien’s black Victorian-style suit and Diana smiled. Any other night, he would have drawn a good deal of attention. Tonight, though, he blended in quite well with the crowd of Symphonic Metal fans.

Diana wore a black, old fashioned, knee-length Lolita-style dress, embellished with black lace and ruffles, that she’d borrowed it from Miri. Apparently, it’d been all the rage when she was 140. 

“Your requested refreshments, my lady,” Darien declared with playful politeness, handing the box to Diana. “Although, I will never understand how you can eat this stuff. The popcorn I can see—we eat similar things. The meat-tube known as a ‘hot dog’ however,” he shook his head. “I will never understand either its name or its appeal.”

“Oh you will,” Diana said with a smile. “That one is yours. I suggest it with some ketchup.”

Darien didn’t even try to hide his horror and disgust.

“I most certainly will not eat that horrid thing,” he said, giving Diana the box. “I would rather wander the Dark Depths.”

“Please?” She put on the most powerful puppy-dog face she had in her arsenal of cuteness. This particular one had been known to bend her dad to her will almost every time. She had yet to unleash it upon Darien, however. It would likely take her most convincing weapon to get him to eat the hot dog.

Darien closed his eyes with a sigh of anguish.

“Fine…” he said, sounding defeated. “If you never do that to me again.”

“I make no promises,” she replied with a wide grin. “All I ask is that you just try it once. If you don’t like it, you never have to eat one again. You need to keep an open mind from time to time.”

Diana squeezed the ketchup from the packet and then sat back to enjoy the show of an arrogant, closed-minded, elf eating a hot dog; she had never been so entertained.

The very sight of it made Darien want to vomit and Diana enjoyed the torture.

Darien closed his eyes and chomped down, taking almost half of it in one bite. He obviously wanted to eat it as fast as possible. Just as Diana thought—a few chews later, Darien appeared to have enjoyed his large bite of hot dog.

She smirked with pure self-satisfaction.

“Does someone appear to be enjoying his horrible little meat-tube?” she asked, teasing.

“I have no idea to what you could be referring,” he replied, his expression smug. “It is horrible and disgusting and I will probably never eat another one.”

He finished his other half.

“Probably?” she asked with a grin.

“Well, if you don’t eat yours, I’m not going to let you waste perfectly good food. I will do my duty as a gentleman and relieve you of your burden.”

“I regret to inform you, that I will be enjoying my burden—thank you.” She took a bite of her own hot dog and the look of disappointment on Darien’s face was priceless.

“Who are these musicians—Legacy of Man, I believe they are called?” His gaze shifted to the various concert-goers sitting around them. “By the look of the majority of the crowd, I’m not expecting to hear beautiful melodies.”

“Looks can be deceiving,” Diana replied, though he had a valid point. The majority of the crowd wore all sorts of black Gothic outfits—with anything from corsets and lace, to spikes and chains. It looked like a vampire convention. Such was the Metal scene.

“Oh just you wait—it’ll be like nothing you’ve ever heard.”

“
Requiem for the Masses
…” he read aloud. “Interesting. I doubt any of these people know what a requiem mass even is. When I first heard Mozart—.” Whatever pretentious comment Darien was about to make was cut off by the surprise of the lights going off and the crowd going crazy.

Diana jumped to her feet and pulled Darien up to stand beside her.

The crowd died down slightly as the orchestra started playing a haunting melody and the choir sang the first part of the requiem mass in Latin.

“Requiem aeternam dona eis, Domine…”
they began and continued on. Diana knew what was about to come and waited for Darien’s reaction.

At that point, he seemed genuinely surprised that he was hearing a rendition of a real requiem—and seemed rather pleased by it, in fact. The monstrous tones of the electric guitars began, followed by the pounding of the drums like a terrifying heartbeat. The look on Darien’s face was one of wonder and amazement.

Diana smiled at her triumph and continued to listen to the music.

After the choir sang the opening chorus of Latin, Petra Powers—the lead female vocalist—came out with a spotlight to begin the verses. Petra and most of the band were from Finland. She had pale ivory skin and striking, dark auburn, hair that gathered at the small of her back. She wore a black gown with matching gloves that went to her elbows, looking the very picture of class and elegance. When she opened her mouth, she sang with the beauty and grace of an opera singer—one with the awesome power of a Heavy Metal symphony behind her. It was no surprise that Legacy of Man was one of Diana’s favorite bands. In her mind, they represented the pinnacle of modern music—the splendor of classical music mixed with the raw energy of Heavy Metal. They had a class of their own.

Darien’s mouth hung open slightly and he seemed utterly stunned by the performance. She couldn’t help but smirk with a sense of victory.

Halfway through the show, Darien appeared to be thoroughly enjoying himself. At one point he even followed the crowd in throwing up a horned rock-fist, but it just came off awkward. She could only laugh when he threw up the “I Love You” sign rather than the traditional devil horns. Personally, she liked his version better.

They were coming up on her favorite part—the
Lacrimosa
—and Diana jumped up and down with joy and anticipation.

“This part is amazing,” she said in excitement as she grabbed Darien’s sleeve and pulled a few times.

The violins began their mystical melodies and the choir sang their Latin verse.

“Dies illa

Qui resurget ex favilla

Judicandus homo reus

Huic ergo parce Deus

Pie Jesu Domine

Dona eis requiem Amen”

Petra began her verse in English on the heels of the choir.

“Ragnarok will come with weeping,

Death and Hell will release their charges,

On the scales of Justice, the Wicked will be,

Pray that these Masses be spared from Wrath,

All-Father have mercy on us,

May we have rest from our endless toil,

Amen.”

Petra held the last note longer than the rest, with the
Amen
being sung with sorrow and longing. She was certainly an accomplished singer and songwriter, having written the majority of the lyrics herself. Her husband, Marius—the lead guitar player—wrote the music and most of the score. They were quite the team.

When the concert was finally over, and the band took their bows, Darien was on his feet along with the rest of the crowd, applauding with enthusiasm.

Diana clapped just as hard. It had been an amazing show—likely the best she had ever attended.

As they were making their way up the aisle and out the door, Darien could not stop talking about the concert.

“That was simply astounding,” he said. “I had no idea such music existed. Although I have to admit, I haven’t actively researched music since—for some time.” He was obviously holding back what he meant to say—that he hadn’t heard good music in decades.

Diana smiled wide with smug satisfaction. “I told you there was more out there than pop music and Top Forty countdowns.”

“My dearest Diana, you have definitely humbled me this night,” he said with a slight mock bow. “I will now admit that modern times can produce musical works of beauty and wonder. Why is this music not popular? It’s genius. They should be selling out arenas and coliseums.”

“I don’t have an answer for that,” Diana replied. She hated to admit it, but it was true. “I guess it’s just not what people want to listen to today—or they just don’t know about it.” She shrugged her shoulders. “A band may be the most talented musical group in the world, but unless the media gives them coverage, no one will know about them. I found Legacy of Man randomly on the Internet one day and I’ve been a fan ever since.”

Darien looked troubled by her comments. “I’m not sure I understand this media entity, either. How can it have so much control over a society’s likes and dislikes? From my understanding of what you’ve told me, members of the greater population are not fans of this wonderful musical group because the
media never told them to be.”

“Um—I’m not quite sure you understand.” As she thought it over though, it made about as much sense to her as it did to Darien. “I don’t know,” she said with a shrug. “A lot of people are sheep I guess. They just don’t want to make an effort to look for what’s out there.”

“Well said, Diana,” he replied as they made their way out though the main doors of the theater and into the street under the glow of the city lights.

Across the way sat the looming, white, Statehouse with its Neoclassical pillars and circular rotunda, atop which the American flag blew in the night’s winds. Hand in hand, Diana and Darien crossed the street and began walking through the gardens that surrounded the government building. Maurice was to pick them up on the other side.