A World Divided

Trees rushed by in a blur, their needle-sharp branches slashing at my face and clothes. Cracks of the sky peeked through the branches, coming in and out of focus. My heavy breathing filled the air.

My golden locket thumped against my chest with each stride of my strong, short legs as I twisted through the trees. Footsteps pounded behind me and I pushed myself to move faster, to go farther, to get away.

Thunder roared in the distance.

I snaked around an enormous tree trunk before my shoulder could collide with it. But I wasn’t so lucky with the next. As I rounded one, another sprung up in my path and I had no choice but to take the blow with my shoulder. Pain exploded down my arm.

Voices echoed in the distance, calling my name.

Streaks of light flickered ahead of me, a few more strides and I would reach the source. Rows of low-hanging branches blocked my path, forcing me to slow down to press my way through. The shouts continued, but I couldn’t make out their words. My brain had no difficulty filling in the blanks.

“Hey Lizard-eyes! Why don’t you climb back up into your tower?” one would call, followed by their two companions agreeing and adding their own jabs.

Shaking off my thoughts, I broke through the barricade of branches and stumbled into a small clearing. My eyes roamed the sweeping forest presented before me.

I took a step, my foot almost slipping on the smooth rock surface, and realized where I stood. Peering towards the edge confirmed it. This was a cliff.

As I took half a step back, I surveyed the boisterous, rolling sky above. Wind whipped my clothes tight against my body, blowing my hair in all directions around my face.

Everything turned a sharp, electric blue. The light so blinding it was all I could see. The wind stopped. My body sizzled from head to toe, causing my short, dark hair to rise a few inches in the air. My entire body jolted. I only saw the blue light. Something warm reached out and enveloped me around the middle, lifting me into the air.

Then everything went black.

─────

My body ached.

Voices drifted towards me in the distance. My eyes fluttered open.

The sky, the terrible boiling grey sky, was no more. Instead, what stared down at me was a beautiful dark sea of stars. I blinked; dots clouded my vision.

When I sat up, my head flipped and pulsed in time with my heartbeat. To stop the spinning, I dug the heels of my hands into my eyes. They dropped limp into my lap.

My birthmarks were different. Before, they were two crescents with a star encircled by small dots resting on the inside of my wrists. But now, the symbol was much larger. The small dots extended onto either side, forming a circle around my wrists, like a bracelet. Tiny stars—matching the ones above the crescents—hung from intricate lines at different levels below the row of dots.

Oh my God. How did—Oh, they’re gonna have a heyday with this.

I looked around, trying to figure out what happened. This was the same clearing as before. In the darkness the trees loomed like giant shadows, swaying in a breeze I didn’t feel. What the Hell?

I looked out past the cliff at the sea of trees and waves crashing against the distant coast. A warm light glowed there. It took me a second to realize it was the Lighthouse. Home.

Then I heard the voices again.

“Hey, over here! I think I see something!” called one of them, their high-pitched voice grinding against my ears.

Their footsteps came and a section of branches started rustling.

The leader of their group—a towering boy who’s all limbs and no muscles—stepped out of the tree line, followed by his two friends. They called themselves the MaineCoons, which everyone refused to use. They’ve tormented me the entire two years I’ve lived in this God-forsaken town.

I shrunk back.

I knew I didn’t have the strength to deal with them. Knew they would finally have their way. Finally break me.

I wanted them gone. Wanted them to leave me be; to let me go home in peace for once. But I knew they wouldn’t.

The leader stepped towards me, menace plain on his face. I threw my hands up between us, looking away.

“Go away!” I cried, hoping they would listen, just this once.

Screams erupted from the trio, followed by loud hollow cracks. I lowered my hands and turned to look where the group stood. But they were gone.

My gaze lifted and I saw them lying in a clump of fallen trees.

What the Hell?

I scrambled to my feet, forgetting my dizziness. The ensuing dots clouded my vision and I gripped my golden locket for support. It held a photo of my parents. Once I could see, I rushed towards the trio.

One of them moaned as I drew closer. I hesitated, not knowing what to do. I approached the girl closest to me. She shifted her head towards me, her eyes widened, and she screamed.

I jumped back. My eyes slipped towards the cliff and the glow from the lighthouse. Without thinking, I spun to the side and bolted through the trees.

Home. Home. Home.

The words echoed in my head. I wanted to go home. To go somewhere safe. Somewhere I could stop, breathe, and figure out what was going on.

The sharp sting of needles and branches went unnoticed as I zipped by. My thoughts kept racing in all directions no matter how hard I tried to focus.

What happened? How did my birthmarks—do whatever they did? How did those bullies end up in the trees?

While questions bounced around in my head without answers, images of that blue light, floating, and the blackness haunted me. I ran out of the woods and onto a deserted street.

A loud bang popped above my head. The noise made me jump, and I skid to a stop. As I looked around for the source, a parked car I passed caught my attention. It was shrouded in darkness. Broken shards of glass loitered its hood and the surrounding ground. My gaze travelled up.

The streetlight hanging above it had shattered.

What is going on?

Another one burst. The lamp next to this one. The explosion startled me back into a trot, then a run, then a sprint.

Streetlamps continued to shatter and burst as I ran. Their electricity poured out around me, filling the street. I kept running.

─────

I reached the lighthouse gasping for breath with my head swimming in questions and fear.

Yanking open the door, I rushed for the stairs, sitting to one side. The rest of the space housed a couch, coffee table and my uncle sitting in his favourite lazy-boy chair. Past that was the kitchen island where I would sometimes do homework while my uncle made lunch for us on weekends.

He jumped to his feet as my foot hit the first wooden step.

“Where have you been?!” he cried, marching towards me.

I paid him no attention. My focus was on my room and not flipping out before I got there. My uncle, however, had a different idea.

“What took you so long? Where were you? I’ve been waiting for hours!”

Focused on putting one foot in front of the other, I didn’t answer.

“What happened?” asked my uncle, exasperated.

At the top of the stairs, I flung around and cried, “I don’t know!” before turning back around and sprinting into my room. The door slammed shut behind me.

Except it didn’t.

Instead, my uncle stepped in and grabbed me by the wrist. He glanced down at the expanded birthmarks and I winced. His gaze snapped to mine. My heart-rate spiked. My brain spun. My heavy breathing intensified.

“I don’t know,” I cried.

He took me by the arms and shook me.

“Breathe, Jaida. Breathe. Remember your exercises,” he said, his amber eyes locked on mine; identical to my own.

I did as he said. A few moments later my breathing came easier and my head cleared. It wasn’t until then that my uncle released me.

“Good. Now, tell me everything, from the beginning.”

I backed up until my legs collided with the bed, sat down, and took a deep breath. Then I told him the whole story.

By the time I finished, he was pacing back and forth in front of me. His arms crossed with one hand gripping his chin, his finger swishing side to side as he thought.

“What happened to me?” I whispered, fearing the answer.

Silence. He kept his gaze down, and when it appeared he wouldn’t answer, he said, “you might wish to sit down.”

“I am.”

“Oh,” he said, looking up at me, “right.”

He stopped pacing and sighed, then turned to me. A hand rubbed over his tired face and raked back his copper hair.

“Have you ever wondered about the symbols on your wrists or why we’re the only ones with these coloured eyes?” he asked. “Or why your skin is more golden than tan?”

I peered down at my hands, studying the symbols on my wrists and the way the light shined on my skin, like tiny flecks of gold were embedded in it. Naturally, I had wondered. Wanted to understand why I was different and why people hated me for it.

“This won’t be easy to hear,” said my uncle, “but you have to promise me you’ll listen.”

I took a shuddering breath before nodding my agreement, eyes still glued on my hands.

“I’m not really a business consultant,” he continued.

My eyes shot up at him. He never looked like the businessman type, but I also never questioned it much. His broad form and taut muscles didn’t feel right smothered under a suit and tie.

“The reason we travel so frequently is to keep you safe.”

“What?” I asked, “what are you talking about?”

“I’m not finished,” he said with a sigh, going to stand by my desk near the far wall. “Your parents didn’t die in a car crash.”

“They’re alive?!” I cried, springing up from the bed.

“I didn’t say that,” warned my uncle, “but it wasn’t a car crash that took them from you, from us.”

I wrapped my arms around my middle, not wanting to listen to his words but knowing I must. What else had he lied about?

“Your parents loved each other very much, but many didn’t want to see them together,” he said, leaning back against the oak desk. “But they wouldn’t listen. Your father wanted to see our worlds united, rather than torn further apart as the Elders planned.”

“Worlds, Elders, what are you talking about?”

He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. His pacing stopped as he looked up at me, motioning toward the bed. I walked over to it with a slight hesitation, then sat down on its edge.

“There’s no good way to say this, Jaida,” he paused and let out a deep breath. “I’m not human, and you’re only half.”

I gaped at him; my jaw surely hung low enough to touch the ground. It took me a moment to find my voice.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Your father and I are Elarknums. We come from a world hidden beyond this one.”

My face twisted in confusion, brain running a mile a minute, and he hastened to explain.

“It’s where you get your skin and eyes and sigils. We’re a group of beings with varying powers to do with electricity. We use special portals to open doors between our worlds.”

“You’re crazy,” I breathed.

“Your father was the commander of the Sacred Army, and I was his second. He led us into battle dozens of times. There wasn’t anything we wouldn’t do for him.”

“I don’t understand,” I whispered, shock stealing my voice.

“He led a rebellion. The Elders wanted to control the humans, reveal themselves to preside over them. But through your mother, your father discovered the beauty of the human-race and risked his life to change our minds.

“And he did. His warriors trusted him, believed him and his stories about the human world and Lillian, your mother. It started with the Sacred Army, but quickly spread to others—family and friends of the warriors.

“Soon, there were enough believers. Your parents led the entire nation in the Revolution, fighting against the ideals of the Elders, wrenching them from their seats of power. But some got away.”

“Enough!” I cried, bolting up from the bed.

My hands clenched into fists, my breathing turned haggard as my brain tumbled and spun trying to sort through the overload of information. My uncle spoke from the corner of the room, but I couldn’t hear him. All I heard was the blood pumping in my ears. Heat gathered in my chest, then started dripping down my arms, pooling in my palms.

Bang!

A bright spark of blinding light lit the space. Darkness.

From across the room my uncle swore as I yelped in surprise. Spots clouded my vision. A shuffling sound came from the other side of the room followed by a long scrape. A glowing speck emerged in the corner where he stood. It swooped towards my desk and lit one of my scented candles.

“What really happened to my parents?” I whispered.

“The Elders. Some escaped during the Revolution and have been plotting their return ever since,” he said, his voice steady. The light intensified as he lit the other candles lining the desk.

Eyes now adjusted, I could make out the shapes of the paintings covering my walls. My uncle straightened and shoved his hands into his jean pockets. Compared to the dark surrounding us, his white T-shirt seemed to glow in the dim firelight.

I shook my head, “You’re crazy.”

“But it’s the truth.”

“Oh, now you feel like telling the truth? No wonder this was hard for you, after all those years of lies,” I spat.

“Come on, Jaida. I only lied to protect you. I made a promise that you’d grow up outside of this as much as possible.”

“So, you hid half my life, my identity, away from me? You let me believe all those kids were right!”

He sighed, stepping towards me. “It’s not that simple,” he said, reaching out a hand.

I stepped back from him, shaking my head. The heat in my face crawled down my neck.

“No,” I said, taking another step back, “you’re just a self-centred prick who’s too much of a coward to accept the truth!”

I turned on my heel and rushed out the bedroom door, slamming it behind me. This time it smacked shut with a satisfying thwack.

The hall blurred by as I sped down the stairs, tears leaking down my face. Before I knew it, I was out the door and into the dreary night.

I clambered up the steep hillside near the coast past the lighthouse; my feet slipped on the rocks, but I didn’t slow down. The heat in my chest intensified, burning down into my stomach, filling me with fire.

At the top of the hill, I studied the waves as they crashed against the shore. I took a deep breath, then screamed.

Screamed until I had no breath left. Wind rushed by my ears as the fire burned its way from my chest down through my arms. It felt good. I breathed in a gulp of air, then threw my head back and screamed once more, letting everything go.

Thunder roared overhead. Light danced over my eyelids as rain splattered my face, hair, and chest.

Opening my eyes, I saw a boisterous, rolling grey sky. Thunder clapped above, followed immediately by a flash of lighting.

After what felt like only a second but could have been an eternity, my breaths became even, and the storm fizzled out. I shut my eyes, taking a deep, steadying breath. They opened to a clear night sky.

I turned around to face the dark lighthouse and worked my way down the rocks towards it. Then I noticed the blue door stood ajar, half off its hinges. I slid the rest of the way to the ground, ignoring the sting from the fresh scrapes on my hands and legs.

“Uncle Sam?” I called into the dark house.

No answer.

I pushed the door farther open and gasped. The living room and kitchen looked like a tornado hit. Broken pieces of furniture lay sprawled all over the room. Shattered glass—most likely from the coffee table—spread all over the floor.

But what struck me most was the enormous circle melted into the far wall. It opened to a pristine, marble hallway that seemed to continue forever. Near the end sat a hunched figure bound to a chair with rope.

I gasped; the man looked up. A man I would recognize anywhere, a man with an identical face to the one trapped inside the locket around my neck.

My father.