Breath of Divinity

Lauren wasn’t usually one to call an early night, but today’s exceptional circumstances meant she couldn’t bring herself to stay up for much longer. Between what had happened to Haley and the boys, it seemed that she was the only one who hadn’t experienced some form of immense trauma today. After hearing Jonathan’s recount of being attacked by a colossal sea serpent, a virtually indestructible rock monster, and a Harbinger, it had driven all thought of her own troubles squarely out of her mind. How could she even think to mention such a trivial matter when Haley was somewhere across the hall, dreading the possibility that she may have killed her parents?

She hadn’t been particularly fond of Mr. and Mrs. Gibson, but she would never wish such a fate upon anyone. Lauren couldn’t imagine what she would do if something had happened to her parents — or worse, if she had been the one to cause it.

Not that she could anyway… And once again, the thoughts she had been pushing back against all day came drifting back into her mind, whose mental defenses had been weakened by the bombshell of bad news that had been dropped on them. Tim, Oscar, Haley, and Jonathan all had such amazing powers, even though she hadn’t witnessed them all directly, but what she had heard was enough to paint a fairly vivid picture. What was she supposed to do in the event of an actual fight, compared to them?

Even without training or any real experience, her siblings lived up to the title of “gods” far more than she ever could. At best, she was a walking memoir. Not really that impressive, unless you counted being able to see what they had for breakfast a few days ago.

Lauren ripped off her covers and began to pace back and forth across the room, her footsteps muffled by the thick velvet carpet. She wanted to sleep but her brain was far too restless to allow that. If their story was any indicator, the Harbingers were more dangerous than anything they had imagined. What were the others like, if Erymithia alone had been so terrifying? If the rest were as bad, or worse, then it was obvious she would be the weakest link among the five. She had no combative abilities, and while her spear possessed incredible powers, somehow she felt that it wouldn’t be enough.

“What am I supposed to do?” she whispered to herself as she continued to pace, deliberating. She ran her fingers through her hair, which fell in curly sheets to her shoulders, no longer being supported by her hairclip.

Sytris had gathered them with the intention of preparing them for a supernatural war, to give them the chance to take down the Harbingers once and for all and ensure their survival. But how could she? Her heart stopped if she so much as felt an insect crawling on her. She was no warrior goddess, and her powers were heartbreakingly lackluster. She was dead weight.

Lauren sank onto the bed as the realization settled in her mind. It penetrated her consciousness more easily than she would have thought. Usually whenever she doubted herself, a small voice in her mind would have piped up, trying to offer some feeble form of reassurance. It seemed that voice had already turned into bed.

Sytris had informed them that their parents couldn’t remain at the mansion for fear of their own wellbeing. But now she realized that she couldn’t stay either. How could she? What would she have to offer, once they faced the Harbingers again, which was inevitable?

Stop it, she snapped at herself. This was what she always did. Overthink. Overanalyze. Jump to the worst conclusions. But in that moment the conclusion she had reached was simply the only logical one. She had to leave.

A knock outside burst in on her thoughts. Lauren jumped, but regained her composure quickly enough.

“It’s open.”

The doorknob twisted. In the infinitesimal pause before the door swung open, a myriad of images flashed through her mind of potential visitors. The face that greeted her was the last she had expected to appear at this time of night: pale, strong-jawed, and set with a pair of icy blue eyes.

“Hello, Lady Mnemosyne. I thought that you would have been asleep by now, but I’m glad I was wrong. I wished to speak with you — in private.”

Lauren was taken aback, not just by this unexpected appearance, but by the fact that Sytris had apparently been seeking a one-on-one with her of all people.

“Oh. Uh… sure, I guess.”

Sytris closed the door gently behind him and stepped forward into the room. He seemed to be gathering his thoughts, and in the brief pause that ensued Lauren’s thoughts spiraled horribly in contrast.

“I wanted to thank you.”

“For what?”

“For your support yesterday. It meant more than you could ever know.”

Lauren struggled for a moment to find the right words, then simply settled on, “You’re welcome.”

A small smile curved his lips. “It reminded me of when you were all younger. Even as children you would take charge, correcting your siblings, helping them, leading them. It is what is expected of an older sibling, naturally. And though it isn’t an easy task, you always rose to the occasion. So, I’m wondering if you believe you are still up to that task.”

Lauren stared at him, her surprise deepening. “I don’t… I’m not really sure I could do that. We’ve known each other for less than two days. I don’t really have the right to exercise Big Sis authority just yet, don’t you think?”

“I know. I understand that it will be a difficult task. Your siblings are uncertain, as are you, and rightfully so. Your world has changed so much in so little time, and you’re confused. Naturally so. But I did mean it when I said you will only conquer your upcoming trials if you are working together. I am aware that it is a heavy burden to bear, to be tasked with restoring everyone’s memories and now this. But I know you can do it. I wouldn’t be here right now if I didn’t believe you were the best person for the job.”

Lauren said nothing. She turned away, trying not to look too pleased with herself. “What would you need me to do?”

“Just reach out to them. Help them understand. Avoid repeats of what happened today. We all need to be on the same page, if we are ever going to succeed.”

Lauren bit down on her tongue, thinking. “Okay,” she said at last. “I can try.”

“Thank you,” he said, bowing deeply. “It is much appreciated Milady.”

“You know…” She was about to say the formality wasn’t necessary, but remembered that she had said it before. Several times. “Never mind. But while we work on that, do you think maybe we can start our training tomorrow? We never really got a chance to earlier today, you know with all the craziness that happened.”

For the first time she thought she saw a flicker of hesitation cross his face, but his gaze was quite steady as he adopted a kind of sympathetic smile. “Perhaps not yet. After what happened with Lady Iduna and Lord Orus, they’re going to require a lot more attention. They pose the greatest danger to themselves and us.”

“I completely understand, it’s fine,” Lauren lied.

He bowed again. “Good night, Milady.”

“Good night.”

The next few days passed by without much excitement, unless you counted Jonathan accidentally melting a hole in the oven with a poorly aimed light blast. Haley didn’t speak much, but no one tried to force conversation. Mr. Whitmore had offered to give her a ride to the hospital so that she could check in on her parents, but she had declined. He had gone in her stead, and returned later that evening with news that they were still alive, but comatose.

Haley quickly excused herself, but they caught a glimpse of the sudden rush of tears before she managed to make it out of the room.

Lauren wanted to help, but she understood that in cases like this people needed their space. Haley would come to them when she was ready — or at least, so she hoped — and when she did they would be ready to help in any way they could. While she waited for Haley to come around, she focused her efforts on her brothers.

As Oscar already possessed a great deal of control over his abilities, he was the only one who didn’t have to attend training sessions with Sytris. She tried to learn more about him over the next few days, but saw that they didn’t have much in the way of conversation topics without bringing up some kind of drug, or movies that were made long before they were born. According to him, the old movies had a unique charm to them that modern films couldn’t replicate. She made a mental note to circle back to Oscar a bit later.

Then there was Tim. He seemed the most emotionally adjusted of them all, but he also seemed more introverted. She knew that she couldn’t force him, but trying to gently coax him out of his shell was yielding no results either.

Jonathan was another impossible nut to crack. Unlike Oscar, who was extremely laid back, he had a defensive streak about him. His arsenal boasted an expansive number of weapons, which included sarcasm, deflection, and general snark, all of which succeeded in shutting a conversation down before it even began.

Overall she didn’t think she was doing as good a job with them as Sytris hoped, but she never mentioned this when he asked how things were going.

“I think I’m starting to make some real progress,” she would say, with a huge fake smile that she was amazed Sytris hadn’t seen through yet.

What she really needed was a catalyst, something she could use to kick-start the bonding process that didn’t involve their lives being in mortal danger. But they all had such drastically different interests and personalities. It wasn’t something she could force, but Lauren had no clue how to do it organically either. Five nights had passed since they arrived at the mansion, and on the sixth she laid herself to rest, her mind teeming with half-formed plans that seemed just as futile as the ones she had already attempted. At this stage there was no point thinking about it any longer. She would get a well-needed and well-deserved rest, then try again tomorrow, even if the result would be another seething failure.

Lauren fell asleep rather quickly, which was a relief given that the day had been filled with awkwardness and disappointment. Usually she wouldn’t rush to sleep this soon, because sleep meant dreaming and dreaming meant revisiting that horrible scene of running through a dark alleyway while a horrible stone gargoyle chased her.

Most unhelpfully, her brain had taken to adding in details that were not present at the time of the attack, such as making the gargoyle larger than life and the addition of a bone-chilling evil cackle that echoed down the street as she ran.

In these variations of the dreams Sytris never showed up to her aid, so it was up to her dream self to run as fast as her legs could carry her to the nearest hiding place. But it never worked. No matter where she went, the gargoyle would catch her, and that was when she would wake up drenched in cold sweat. This time was different however. It started out the way it usually did, but somewhere along the line the dark alley melted away. The dream was formless for a while, but then it started to take shape…

Couches, an entertainment center and a huge, glass coffee table materialized, followed by walls and a coffered ceiling to form a rather small living room. There was no colour; it was like a scene from the black-and-white movies Oscar loved. There was something vaguely familiar about this room. Lauren stood in the center, gazing around.

She had never had this dream before. Was she still dreaming? She always had some sense of lucidity in her dreams before, but now she felt completely aware, as if she was actually standing in this dingy little room.

A part of her felt like she knew this room, but from where…?

Her silent vigil was interrupted by a dry sob. Lauren started and looked around. The sound was coming from the corner of the room, its source hidden by one of the couches. It occurred to her that in a case like this the sensible course of action would have been to hightail it out of there, but she couldn’t resist. It was like her legs had taken on a mind of their own, steering her forward.

A little girl was sitting in the corner, her head bowed and her arms wrapped around her knees. There was a stuffed toy on the ground to her left, and the remnants of what looked like a tablet was to her right.

“Hello,” Lauren said, approaching slowly so as not to scare her. “Are you okay?”

The girl made no response, only continued to cry.

“My name is Lauren. What’s yours?”

Again the girl did not react.

“If you tell me what’s wrong, maybe I can help,” said Lauren. But for all the notice the girl took of her, she might as well have been invisible. Lauren bent lower to speak with her, but before she could say anything further another voice floated into the room.

“Lauren?”

Lauren whipped around. So did the girl. Lauren gasped. She had seen the young girl’s face for the first time and her heart skipped a beat. She recognized her heart-shaped face, her upturned eyes and the curly hair tied back into pigtails. She recognized them because she possessed those same features, only more defined with age. Her confusion turned at once into comprehension. There was only one explanation for what had happened: she was inside a memory.

She watched silently as young Lauren rubbed her knees and stood up as the approaching footsteps got louder.

“There you are,” said the man. Lauren received another great shock.

Her father could only have been a few years younger at this point, but he looked as if twenty years had been taken off. His face was smooth and instead of his neatly shaven beard he was instead sporting a rather silly goatee. Lauren had a strange and powerful urge to laugh, but fought it down.

“What happened, Lauren?”

“It broke,” pouted young Lauren, puffing out her cheeks. “I didn’t mean to. It was an accident.” She was pointing at the tablet, which the older Lauren now saw had actually been torn apart. Her father knelt down and inspected the damage, his jaw halfway towards the floor. “Broken” was an understatement. It was absolutely wrecked.

“You did this?” he said, looking at her with disbelief etched across his sharp features.

“I was just playing with it and it snapped. I’m sorry Daddy.”

“You know you’re not supposed to — Lauren, where’s your hairclip?” he said suddenly, a note of panic in his voice now.

“Upstairs, I took it off when —”

“You’re not supposed to take it off, Lauren. Under any circumstance, do you understand?”

She looked a little startled, but young Lauren nodded anyway. Now her father looked slightly ashamed of himself.

“I’m sorry, honey. I just meant… It’s a very important item. It was a gift from someone very special. I don’t want you to take it off anymore, okay?”

She nodded again.

“What do you say we go get some ice-cream, huh?”

Like clockwork, Lauren’s entire expression shifted dramatically. Smiling, Mr. Combs scooped her up and headed upstairs, most likely to retrieve the discarded hairclip. Lauren wanted to follow them but remained where she was, taking in the room around her. This wasn’t where they lived now. The room design was completely different, as was the furniture. They must have moved at some point but Lauren couldn’t remember this house at all. She glided around, silent as a ghost, observing.

The living room was rather messy. There were clothes scattered on the coffee-coloured sofas, which had been placed at odd angles around the room. Half-open cardboard boxes lined the carpet-less floor, their contents spilling over.

She also noticed that no curtains had been put up, except the one that had been drawn over the living room window. It gave the distinct impression that they had recently arrived here and had not finished unpacking.

Peering more closely around, Lauren spotted the stuffed animal her younger self had left behind. She picked it up, then let out a gasp of surprise. As she made contact colour flooded into it. It was not a teddy bear as she had suspected, but a bright purple octopus wearing a coat, complete with top hat and monocle.

“Mr. Wiggles,” she breathed. Then she blinked. She had no idea how she had known its name; she didn’t even remember owning this toy in the first place.

Before she could do anything else, the walls around her began to fade. Darkness flooded in, then a new scene began to construct itself, also in black and white. This time there were no walls. Instead, layers of sand sprawled out in front of her, with a churning sea to her right. There were countless people on the beach, laughing, playing volleyball or tanning It didn’t take long to find her family.

There was Lauren, younger than she was now but definitely older than she had been in the last memory. She was building a sand castle with great enthusiasm, her hair clip fixed firmly in place.

She actually remembered this. Well, some of it anyway.

Behind her sat her parents. Her mother looked relaxed but her father was tense. His eyes kept darting all over, as if he was expecting some kind of attack. She moved closer when she realized her mother was speaking.

“Lighten up, Andy. We’re at the beach. We’re supposed to be having fun.”

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.”

“Oh come on.” She rolled her eyes in exasperation. “It’s been three weeks. You can’t really expect us to stay boxed up inside forever?”

“It’s not forever, just until —”

“She’s safe? There’s no way to guarantee that, but we can’t put our lives on hold just because she might be in danger every now and then. The best thing we can do is be there for her, do our best to detect the threats as soon as possible. But there’s no way to completely prevent them.”

“And put our faith in some hairclip?”

“That is not just ‘some hairclip’ and you know it.”

Lauren knelt down beside her father. She reached out to touch him experimentally, and just as it had with Mr. Wiggles his body was suddenly flushed with colour. He looked pale and strained. He didn’t notice anything though; he continued with the conversation, oblivious to Lauren’s presence.

“Do I need to remind you what’s lurking out there?”

“No,” sighed her mother. “Because you already did. A record number of 500 times just today.”

“This isn’t a joke, Melissa,” he hissed. “We’ve had to move three times in the last eight months. If this keeps up she’s going to start suspecting something’s up. The last one got inside our home. If I hadn’t gone downstairs when I did —”

Her mother sat up sharply, dropping the magazine she had been absently flicking through.

“I know, Andrew. I know. But Sytris told us that he wanted us to give her the best life she could have. We can’t do that if she has to stay cooped up twenty-four/seven. It’s not fair to take the opportunity to enjoy her childhood from her, especially without even explaining why. She deserves to have fun, to make friends, to be a kid. If you’re that concerned about it, then we can take some extra precautions at home. But we’re not going to put her life on hold, keep her locked up in her tower like some princess. Especially since as you mentioned, the last one got inside the house didn’t it?”

She raised her eyebrows and looked at him expectantly. There was a moment’s hesitation, then he sighed.

“Fine. We’ll just have to —”

But what they had to do, Lauren never found out. The entire scene was crumbling again. Her parents flickered and disappeared, then the scene faded. Her eyes jerked awake and she sat bolt upright with a gasp. At the same time, several other figures around her bed started too.

“Wha — what’s going on? Why are you all in my room?”

Tim, Jon and Oscar were all there, looking shocked. On the other side of her room, however, was the present-day version of her father and Sytris, caught somewhere between relief and apprehension.

“Dad, what are you…”

“Lauren, oh thank God you’re awake. How do you feel?”

“I… I’m fine. Why?”

Her brothers exchanged dark looks.

“Will someone tell me what’s going on?”

“Honey, did something happen before you went to bed? Anything out of the ordinary?”

“N-no. Everything was fine.” But they were still looking at her as if afraid she would spontaneously combust. “Okay you guys are really creeping me out. What is going on? Why are you all acting so weird?”

“Lauren,” said Jonathan, in a tone more serious than any she had ever heard him use. “You were asleep for two days.”