The Unwanted Winter - Volume One of the Saga of the Twelves (96 page)

Now, through some strange
twist of fate, he was the Kring-Hël, the reincarnate of the
Guardians of the World of Man, reborn the leader who would save
them all. Soon, he would become something even more different than
the seven-year-old in the backyard of his grandmother’s house. He
would be altered by a weight of responsibility so crushing; it
could very well turn him into something she prayed he wouldn’t
become. It would sadden her beyond anything she’d experienced thus
far to see the spirit of the boy drained away and replaced by
something hard, honed, and sharpened against reality. She hoped it
wouldn’t come to that. With all of her heart, she did.

Yet, if that were the only
way to see victory against the Lord of the Storm, then it would
have to be the way. This was the war to end all wars. Though it had
been postulated, prophesied, to exhaustion in the World of Man.
This time, it was true. With all the time on their hands, given to
them by a relentless blizzard, she’d had plenty of time to
contemplate the near future. She was beginning to get a sense of
what was on the horizon. It wasn’t pretty or glamorous or
adventurous in any way. It was death. It was destruction upon a
scale unseen before. The world wars of humanity would pale in
comparison. She knew what would be decided upon the Melded World
and it frightened her. It would change Anthony. It would change his
darling sisters. It would change all of the Twelve – the
Guardians.

The fate of all would be
decided here, upon this stark, unwholesome plane…

She exhaled a slow, drawn
out sigh, pushing such morbid thoughts aside for now. There would
be time enough for them in the days and weeks to come, she more
than certain of it. Better to keep her mind on things significant
to current events versus things about which she could only
speculate.

She pulled her head up
from her forelegs, shaking her great head from side to side,
letting her ears flop noisily against the sides of her skull,
massaging more than just the stiffness in her neck.

From the far corner of the
cave, she saw Garfield lift his head and peer in her direction. His
pupils were wide and glowing in the near-darkness of the cave. He
seemed on the verge of getting up from his supine
position.

So she, knowing he could
see her more clearly in the dark than she could see him, wagged her
head in the negative, sending him a wordless message - it wasn’t
quite time for his watch.

He eased himself back
down, shaking his head as well, though more out of disgust than
anything else.

Kenai smiled in spite of
herself.
That was one grumpy
feline.
The fact he had such a low
tolerance for anything out of the ordinary it was downright
pitiful.

She let her own head fall
back to her rest upon her legs, thinking of the little boy who now
had the weight of the four universes resting upon his narrow
shoulders, all thoughts of Garfield long forgotten.
I have missed so much of you, Little Bouncy
Hair
, thought the bear-dog, the image of
seven-year-old Anthony flooding into her mind. A
nd, I can only barely fathom what I have missed. You have
grown so much and have become strong in the mind. Always, have I
been proud to belong to you, because you always made me feel
special, even when I was bad and tore up the precious plantlings
belonging to the Lady with the Long Hair. You always seemed to have
understood me, stood up for me and that prepared me for what was to
come. My memories of you, those first four years were of the very
best of my life. They have always provided me with the strength I
needed when I needed it the most.

I do not think I could
have survived a place such as this, if I had not been for the
collection of remembrances of you.

Now, look at us, set up
against the worst of the worst.

I will not let you
down!

~~~~~~~~<<<<<<{ ☼
}>>>>>>~~~~~~~~

Behind Mysterious
Doors

Day Three, Saturday, 7:10
am…

He sleeps like a little
boy
, she thought as she watched him, lying
next to her wrapped up in a blanket of his own, facing her, close.
His head was no more than seven inches from the tip of her nose.
She stared at him with the same scrutiny she’d done since the very
moment she’d met the sixteen-year-old teen. There was something
about him
making
her want to gaze his way. No matter how much she tried to
divine a sensible reason why, she couldn’t.

He wasn’t the most
handsome young man she’d ever laid eyes on. He wasn’t the best
built either. Though he was smart, he was nothing like the
“brainiacs” she sometimes sat next to in her AP classes. His long
angular nose ended in a medium sized bulb, widened somewhat wider
than the norm, but it wasn’t unsightly. It matched his high set
cheeks bones, giving the lower portion of his face a triangular
aspect to it. His chin was blunted at the end, sprouting a few
straggles of hair, but it was in no way chiseled. When she backed
away and looked at him from afar, it appeared pointy, an entirely
different shape than when peered at him up close. His complexion
was light for a Hispanic, which his sister Elena seemed to have in
common with him (Mikalah’s skin was dark, more golden, and much
more traditional in appearance) and, like most boys she knew, he
struggled with acne and the like. She let her eyes wonder over his
skin, realizing, despite the many pimples upon his face, it did
appear he took the time the keep his skin as clean as possible. She
didn’t see many blackheads or infected pores.

What is it about
you…?
she thought again, letting her
vision dance over his long, wavy hair, which in her opinion was his
best feature. It was thick and lustrous as always. Again, she felt
herself thinking of the many girls who would die to have their hair
look as naturally vibrant and healthy as his.

He moved suddenly in his
sleep, his forehead creasing with some unwelcomed thought, before
it smoothed out. He relaxed back into a more rhythmic slumber. A
thick, long lock of his hair fell across his face when he moved,
but it didn’t obstruct the entire view of him.

She focused on his broad,
pale-skinned forehead, wondering over and over in her mind.
Why him? Why now?
She
wasn’t really into guys that looked straight out of a fashion
magazine. They were always too full of themselves or really, really
dumb. She just didn’t have the time for that type of tedium.
Muscles-guys were usually into their bodies to such an extreme,
they felt they should be worshipped and complimented with every
millimeter of bulk they added week over week. The smart jocks
usually felt like they were God’s gift to women and almost always
treated girls as such. Whereas the dumb ones just wanted nothing
more than to get laid and typically had a hard time understanding
the word “no”, so she stayed away from them as well. For the most
part, this was the reason why well-built guys didn’t really attract
her either. She figured that explained away two of the things
Anthony wasn’t, but then there were the intelligent guys, like the
ones in the Magnet program she attended. They were usually nice and
polite, if not overly shy, but sometimes… well, if challenged,
sometimes they could become defensive to the point of obsession.
They could turn quite mean. It had always surprised her when the
nicest, ninety-pound nerd could turn so incredibly angry at her, if
she happened to disagree with him on something as obscure as String
Theory or the taxation levels in the Thirteen Colonies of the New
World. Most of them came across as ridiculous to her. They were
nothing more than very knowledgeable people with superficial minds.
It was the thought that always came to mind when she thought of the
few times one of her male classmates had gone off on
her.

No, Anthony was none of
those archetypes. He wasn’t a Biker Dude or a Cholo. He wasn’t a
Rich Kid or a Skater. He said he hung around musicians, but he
wasn’t one himself. He liked classic rock, but listened to a lot of
other types of music as well. He was a big-time online gamer, but
really didn’t bring that sort of persona to school with
him.

Who are you?

She looked his face over
once again; her hands under her cheek, feeling her head shake back
and forth in confusion.

He was sweet and soft
spoken. He had manners,
real
manners, and so far, he had treated her with the
upmost of respect, always asked permission to sit next to her, and
always asked her if she needed anything. He was kind and gentle,
and carried himself well. He didn’t come across as arrogant or
haughty. He never looked down his nose at anyone. He seemed fair
and confident, taking in stride the tremendous amount of
responsibility placed upon his shoulders.

And still, there was
more.

What she liked the most
about him was he was a good brother. He went out of his way to make
sure his sisters were clean, saw they were fed properly and made as
comfortable as they could be cooped up in a cave in the middle of
this raging snow storm. This is what most impressive about him,
being six years older than Elena (even older in that regard to
Mikalah) and still he had the maturity to care for them without
rancor or resentment. Most kids their age would eventually rankle
at having to take care of little children, seeing to their every
need, attending their ragged emotions and oftimes flighty
moods.

Anthony didn’t convey any
nonverbal message to any around him that it bothered him in way,
shape or form. He merely took care of his sisters and said very
little about having to do so.

He must have wonderful
parents
, she thought knowing most children
react to given situations based on what they see at home, every day
- those are the habits that stick.
His
mother and father must have gone out of their way to teach him
something cool.
He would probably be a
good parent himself… one day… if…

He stirred again, opening
and closing his mouth, then licking his lips, leaving a thin sheen
twinkling in the small, flickering flames of the fire.

Someone must have put a
log or two to the fire pit
, she thought
suddenly, because the luminance in the cave had increased from the
time she had awakened until now.
Maybe one
of the Fist wishes us to know it is daylight
outside
, she mused, her eyes still on the
boys lips as they slowly dried.
Not that
we could tell if it was in fact daylight outside.

The thought petered out in
her mind.

Suddenly, she wanted very
much to feel Anthony’s lips on hers.

He had thin lips for a
young man, colored a surprisingly rich rose-pink. Even in the
semi-darkness, she could tell. They appeared soft to her, thin, but
full and billowy. Even moreso, she was compelled to feel them on
hers. It was like nothing she ever experienced before. She
actually
wanted
to kiss him. She just had to know how they felt!
Why!?!
she yelled
internally. Why was this happening to her? She’d had her share of
kisses and make-out session with guys in the past, but those had
always been planned or in a socially acceptable setting. If a boy
took her out and was a gentleman, she might give him a peck at the
front door of her house when he dropped her off. Alternatively, if
she had been dating someone for a while, she might allow a period
of kissing and light petting. Correct? That’s what teenagers did
when they dated, they made out… Well, some went a whole lot
farther, but that wasn’t her thing… at least, not yet.

But, this was different,
this was almost a
need
.

Frankly, it scared her.
She hardly knew him. She had spent some time with him, had talked
with him, but she hadn’t done any of that for any length of time.
How could he illicit such
feelings
already
?

For him,
feeling!?!
Were they
real feelings? Was this finally
that
something she had wondered
about in the past? Was this desire? Finally? Could it lead to
something more…? Could it be, after all of this time, a boy could
stir her in places other than her heart and her mind?
Oh no!
she thought and
forced herself to turn from him and gazed up at the uneven ceiling
above, the growing light from the fire already revealing the
various cave formations growing before her gaze.
This could be bad… What I am doing? Do I
even
like
the
guy?
She lay there, on her back, lost in
her own thoughts, searching her mind and her heart, wondering,
lost, unsure like never before.
But, he is
such a sweet boy… he sleeps like a baby… Who am I fooling? Myself?
I’ve known for some time now -.