Being Nosy

Emma sniffed disdainfully as they emerged from the basement. “We could have survived the apocalypse down there!” she complained. “What made you want to come out?”
“I never said you had to come with me,” Tristan muttered. The image of the gold star was still firmly impressed in his mind, and he couldn’t get rid of it. He was certain he was wrong, but what if he wasn’t…? What if he had seen that star, just once for a quick glance, poking out of Carmen’s breast pocket, just beneath the official one she wore as sheriff?
“Yeah, but I’m the hero,” Emma replied. “I can’t let kids go off on their own!”
Tristan glared. “I am not a kid.” He added, “Since when were you a hero?”
Emma ignored it and said, “Oh, look, Carmen’s still got the lights on. I wonder what she’s doing…?”
Tristan immediately realized Emma was one of the ‘nosy neighbors,’ which made him wonder why she was in the neighborhood where no one talked to each other at all. However, he didn’t mind a nosy neighbor just this once… A nosy neighbor might know how to get into Carmen’s house and search for a star.
Emma, still rambling, continued, “She’s a bit dodgy, you know… came here as years ago and joined the police force… It’s weird how she seems to avoid talking about the past much, and lately she’s been looking over her shoulder a lot more than usual. Mind you, she’s always been a bit paranoid, but now…”
“Shut up,” Tristan snapped. “I don’t care how dodgy she is.”
“Maybe we should head over and say hello,” Emma suggested, her face lighting up with a good excuse to be getting in other people’s business. “You know, to make sure she’s okay.”
“You want to go outside now?” Tristan asked. He was fine; he knew that those soldiers couldn’t harm him. He was just as solid to them as they were to others- they wouldn’t be able to lay a finger on him. Emma, though, was a different story. She was still very much solid and very much at risk.
“Yes!” Emma seethed. “I can’t stay cooped up here forever!”
Tristan didn’t point out that Emma had wanted, just a few moments ago, to remain in the basement until the all-clear signal. He needed any excuse to get to that house, whether she came or not.
“Fine.” He walked straight through the door. A few seconds later, Emma came out, having opened it. The slow way- who used doorknobs?  He gave her a look, one that said, Let me do the talking, and went next door to Carmen’s house. Tristan knocked, then waited.
The door was opened by a gruff teenager and a veela girl. “Who are you?” the girl asked, putting her hand on a knife near her waist.
“I’m Tristan, I’m a friend of Meagan’s, and Carmen told me to hide with Emma-“
“That’s me,” Emma interrupted, pointing to herself.
“Yes, her,” Tristan continued, a little bit irritated. “I need to talk to the sheriff. Preferably right now.”
The veela raised an eyebrow. “Why?”
“What’s it matter? I need to talk to her!”
“She’s out.”
“She can’t be out, no one’s ‘out!’” Emma snapped. “There are shadow-beings on the loose!”
“We know,” the veela said, her patience clearly being stretched. “Nevertheless, she’s out.”
“Where?”
“They obviously don’t get the message,” the boy growled. There was something wild and feral about his appearance, something untamed in his eyes. “Go. Away.”
“Hold it,” Tristan pleaded. “Listen, you haven’t seen anything with a star on it, have you? A gold star?”
“I haven’t,” the veela answered. “Joel, step back.”
The boy followed her instructions as the veela studied Tristan’s face. “Are you a ghost?” she asked.
“No. Well, maybe. I’m technically not dead, but I don’t have a body…”
The veela’s eyes lit up with curiosity. “Really?” Then the glimmer disappeared. “I’m afraid I have to ask you to leave.” Her voice was sweet, but laced with a threat as her hand flew to her knife yet again.
“Jessica.” Joel prodded her in the back. “We can’t keep the door open much longer. If they won’t go away, we’ll take them prisoner.”
Jessica’s face instantly shone. “Prisoners? I haven’t had those in a long, long time.” She grinned. “Don’t move- you’re now our hostages.”
“For what reason?” Tristan exclaimed. “Why on Htam would you keep us hostage? It’s not like you can ransom us for anything!”
“I’m doing it because it’s fun,” Jessica replied. “What am I supposed to do all day? Guard an unconscious elf?” She gave a gasp. “Crap, they weren’t supposed to know about that.”
“Now we really do have to keep them,” Joel groaned. “Your tongue is as slippery as butter.”
“Oh, shut it.” Jessica frowned. “If you don’t resist… I’ll let you talk to Carmen when she gets back.”
“Sure.” Tristan strode into the house. “Easy peasy. Coming, Emma?”
Emma shook her head. “I’m the Hero! I will fight you to the end, but I am not being anyone’s prisoner!”
“Suit yourself.” Joel easily lassoed her with a rope he pulled out of his pocket and then dragged her inside with about as much effort as squashing an ant.
Jess and Joel were very polite with their prisoners. They asked Emma if she wanted anything to eat or drink and let her roam the house unrestrained. Jess had tried to offer Tristan some refreshments too before she realized what a complete mistake she was making.
Tristan, wandering around, came upon an elf lying on a bed, fast asleep. Feeling as if he had invaded her privacy, he walked right back out. The house had little to interest him. It was bare of decorations and, though larger than most, contained mostly empty rooms that had a melancholy feel to them. The attic had only a couple of trunks, all of which were locked and wouldn’t open.
Emma made herself right at home, snooping around. Tristan found her a few minutes later in Carmen’s bedroom, the only room in the entire house that had any painting on it whatsoever. Hanging on the wall, framed, was a beautiful pastel and acrylic piece of a twelve-pointed star and a gate. A lone lyre- or maybe it was a harp- was lying on the bed next to some open sheet music. Tristan stole a peek while Emma fingered the painting, trying to guess where Carmen had acquired such a beauty. The sheet music was very complicated, with a simple melody that had quite an accompaniment. The words weren’t in the Common Tongue, and he didn’t understand them. It looked a bit like Elvish, but he wasn’t sure.
“Oi!” Jess shouted. “Tristan! What are you doing in a woman’s bedroom?”
Muttering apologies, he exited.
Emma walked down to the ice box, complaining she was hungry, and opened it right up. The scream she gave was almost loud enough to wake the dead. “Why is there a person in your ice box?” she shouted.
Jess winced. “Joel, you explain that one.”
“We were attacked,” he said. “An… ally froze her and we stuck her in the ice box to keep her from… you know… attacking again.”
“You can’t keep people in your ice box!”
“First of all, it’s not my ice box,” Joel defended, “and secondly, what else would you have us do?”
Emma stared at Quay’s frozen face, looking up blankly without seeing anything. “Is she awake?”
“How should I know?”
Emma scowled. “I have quite a few things to say to Carmen when she gets back.”
“I imagine you do,” Jess replied.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Exactly what it does.”
“You- you-“ She stopped and broke off, pointing to a figure standing at the top of the stairs.
Arya was standing at the top of the stairs, wearing the elven clothes she had first appeared in. Her stance was narrow and poised, confident. She grinned. “A foolish hero, two honor-bound soldiers, and one who is seemingly immortal…”
“Oh, you woke up,” Jess shrugged.
“Jess,” Joel whispered so that Arya couldn’t hear. “Something’s wrong.”
“What is it?”
“That grin of hers… and maybe it’s just me, but she didn’t have red pupils before.”
“What?!”
“Look closely. The irises are the same purple, but the pupils are deep, deep red.”
“I see.” Slowly, Jess’s hand moved to her knife. “What’re we looking at here? Possession? Insanity? Hidden powers?”
“I don’t think so. This looks like a bad copy- very much like the real thing, but different in a subtle way.”
“Dream version?”
“No, no… maybe we didn’t see what she really looked like until now. “
“I get it. All right… one…”
“Two…”
“Three!” they shouted together, leaping forward, Joel shifting shape into a giant, shaggy-maned golden lion. Jess’s wings fanned out behind her as she slashed, but she hit only air. She didn’t miss; one minute Arya was there, and the next she wasn’t.
“You’ll need to try harder than that,” she chided. “Honestly… it’s not even fun if you’re that pathetic.” Arya shrugged. “The plan was to get the sheriff away so I can pick off Oleander and his stupid wife one at a time, but unfortunately, I’m stuck with you. It was quite a job fooling you too! Feigning fighting Frida, making up my reaction to Requiem…”
“What, she’s not your daughter?” Jess demanded. “Is she in on it too?”
“No, she really is my Melody,” Arya shrugged. “I just haven’t missed her all that much. You think I’d seriously not see something that monumental to my past? She wasn’t kidnapped. I gave her away. She got in the way of my plan. I forgot for a couple of centuries. I let myself slip away and fell in love. How ridiculous. Once I got a grip though... it wasn’t hard to find the nearest orphanage.”
“No way,” Joel growled. “You can’t be-“
“That’s right. No one has told you about a little story, have they? I guess I’ll give you a quick bedtime tale before you go to sleep forever. There was a little genius living in the city of Aeternam. She was gifted in music- quite a singer- but what she never told anyone was that she never saw herself in a reflection. She saw a dream version; similar, but not quite there. And one day, she discovered this dream version could talk.
“She told her brother’s wife, someone she didn’t trust very much. But who else was she to tell? Certainly not her mother, for she didn’t care about the poor little girl at all. She couldn’t tell her brother, for he was far too busy to take notice and thought her a nuisance. And her father? She was lucky if he even spoke one word to her. So she told a scientist, one who listened and recorded her every word. Together, they discovered a parallel world, one that pieced together dreams and reality and the beautiful place where each Victura so loves to be- the River. Yes, the River fit into everything.
“The genius and her brother’s wife developed a way into this world, but what they didn’t count on was the fact that there was a third person involved: an ancient, age-old creature that did not like little Victuras trespassing on its domain. This creature needed a disguise, so it took on the form of a little girl and befriended the genius, trying to destroy the genius’s plans. However, the creature had no clue how close the plans were to fruition, and the binding of the Gate to the little genius came far too soon. The creature was losing its world to the Victura, who loved the fact that they could now visit their dreams through the Gate. The creature, in a fit of anger, set in motion a chain of events that would eventually destroy that world, converting it into a world of nightmares. The way the creature did this was through an everlasting, immortal fire that kept burning and burning, consuming everything in its path.
“Yet again, the creature was foiled, completely by accident. A war was started, between the Victura and the Entia Nocte, shadow creatures they had unwittingly released upon their world once they had bridged that of reality and dreams. This war almost destroyed both races, were it not for the quick thinking of the brother’s wife, who shut the Gate to keep each side from getting in. Unfortunately, she ended up being stuck inside, trapping the creature with her.
“That was not good. The creature in its complete form could not escape, so it split itself into seven parts, the main part being its favorite disguise- the shape of the young girl it had used to fool them all. The Hating Fire split itself and fell across the earth, still burning and consuming, taking innocents.
“Here it stands before you, in the form of that little Victuran girl, who isn’t quite so little anymore. Here it is, something older than all of your races put together, and it is angry. It is wrathful and powerful and wanting vengeance for the destruction of its peace and tranquility. It desires for an end to meddlesome beings, lusts for the beautiful nihilism that it had before, and will do anything to get it back, even destroy all of reality and its dreams!”
At the conclusion, Arya smiled again. “So, you see, I want the end of the world. Simple enough, hmm?”
“But you just told us your weakness!” Tristan blurted. “You told us that you’re in seven; so how are you going to destroy us? You’re not complete.”
“Fool. That is not a weakness. It is strength. One with which I can easily vanquish you and purge this world of its filth… I want my peace, my quiet, the tranquility I had before you fools came along and messed it up!”
Jess nodded. “I was wondering how Arya survived. It seems that she wasn’t a Victura after all. So there was no Oterra’s little sister?”
“Of course there was. She just died a rather premature death. You can thank Cattallus for that, though I’m sure she doesn’t remember a thing. I was behind it, after all.”
“I see now,” Emma said. “This shall be a heroic battle between us! I, the Hero, shall overcome you with my might!”
Tristan smacked his palm on his forehead. “We are so doomed.”
“Yep,” agreed Jess.

Plot twist! Arya was EVIL!!!! Evil, and hanging with our other group of heroes! The upcoming heroic battle should be most heroic indeed. If it were more heroic The Doctor would ride in on an eagle with Gandalf and serve the heroes hero sandwiches. I probably shouldn't stay up this late and comment...

Dragonlord Stephi : Saw that one coming . I mean ... she was just so ..... " Imo betray ya'll cuz I am powerful and have a complicated bakcstory and stuff " .  But how are an Obambo , A somewhat bratty teenage girl and two other things suposed to beat HER ....I mean ... c'mon now . 

Mr. Zed : Oh, come on! They knew they were doomed too!

You saw her betrayal coming, you say? Would you mind explaining?

Dragonlord Stephi : Well its pretty simple. Writng has its normal twists and turns .. but UR writing has no normal twists and turns .. they are advanced . I predicted SOMEONE was going to be betrayed or betray in the future ... Plus I mean the way she acts , her style her vigour ... you don't act like that UNLEESSS you have something worth it . Meagan acts similar and has a motive .. her sistr ... Arya's motive .. her world .