Four hours later, Ivey found herself thoroughly washed and cleaned, and left alone in a circular room with doors of all different sizes and shapes. Interestingly enough, each entry seemed to have its own characteristics, including a different doorknob shape and style.
Ivey stood, off to one side, wearing nothing but a long, elegant purple bathrobe. Underneath, she had on a sleeveless tank top and shorts that stopped about halfway down her thigh. A weird combination, but it hadn't been her choice.
After fitting her with the new clothes and robe, one of the maids disappeared. The other one accompanied her through a long corridor, guiding her through a bunch of left and right turns before coming upon this place. After asking Ivey to please wait, the maid retired, back the way they had come.
Other than the two maids, Ivey didn't encounter anyone else. There weren't many clan members hanging around for a place that was home to the Shaman Clan.
Ivey sighed and crossed her arms, examining the room. It was reasonably large with the ceiling a good eight to twelve feet high and cascading drapes fastened to the walls and ceiling. The fabrics were old and worn out. Its color, even worse: a dull, ugly yellow, reminding her of dried carpet stains leftover from spilled juice.
"Ivey!"
Hearing the familiar voice calling, Ivey paused. Wondering if her mind was playing a trick, Ivey answered slowly, "Mom...is that you?"
"Oh, Ivey, you're okay!" Her mother came rushing out of nowhere to embrace her. "When I heard that you were attacked on the way here, I was so worried!"
"Mom—is it really you?" Ivey leaned back to look at the familiar features of her mom. It never ceases to amaze Ivey how young her mother looked, even after all these years. It was like she never aged, her skin still youthful and smooth and flawless, just like it had been the day she was born. "What are you doing here? Where's dad? What's going on?"
Her mother drew her in for another long embrace before letting go. Just as soon as she did, another set of arms came out of nowhere, dragging her in, "I'm right here."
Ivey closed her eyes as waves of relief washed over her. The weight of the world lifted as it always did when her parents were around. Her dad was her strength; her mom was the glue holding them together. With both of them here, everything was going to be all right. Even if she was in unfamiliar territory, seen, experienced, and heard the unimaginable become imaginable, their presence alone calmed her mind.
Her dad leaned back to look at her, "Thank goodness you're all right. If just a single strand of hair is missing, I'll make Seymour—"
His wife—her mom—playfully hit him on the side with her elbow, "Shush now! You know he'll never let anything happen to her. He would die first before a single hair goes missing."
"Yes, yes! Of course," her father agreed. "Come! There's much to do before the day is over."
Ivey, however, didn't move from her spot. As relieved as she was, there were still a lot of unanswered questions. "What's going on here? You guys still haven't explained."
Her mom grabbed her arm and pulled her along, "All in time," she promised. "Now, tell me, dear, what do you think of Seymour?"
Confused by the sudden change in topic, Ivey hesitated, as if not understanding her correctly. "Sey…Seymour?"
"Yes, yes," her mom nodded eagerly. It was like she heard a delicious piece of rumor and couldn't keep her mouth shut, "The hottie who rescued you. His name is Seymour, in case he didn't introduce himself. He's a very man of few words, but I like them that way."
This time, Ivey paused, blinking at her mom in surprise. To hear such words coming from her mom's lips...in front of her dad...Is this really my mom? And what does dad think of this?!
"You've gone and made her speechless," this time, it was her dad who tugged her other arm to keep them moving. He frowned over at his wife, "Stop trying to play matchmaker."
Ivey turned her bewildered face towards her dad. Mom...just drooled over a guy, and you're concern about her playing matchmaker?!
Her mother returned his glare, "Why not? I simply want a grandchild before I get too old to take care of it."
This time, her parents stopped to argue with one another. Ivey, all but forgotten.
"A…a…grandchild…?"
"Yes! A grandchild. You know...Ivey and Seymour's kid...the one that has yet to be born."
"Marcelle...," her dad's voice trailed off.
Ivey shook her head and rolled her eyes, getting between them. Some things never changed. Even if everything around her didn't make sense, at least her parents still did. "He didn't need to introduce himself, Mom."
"What?" Her mother glanced at her as if realizing she was still here. "What did you say?"
There, she had their attention. "I'm not sure. I…simply remembered his name."
The jaws of both her parents dropped.
"You remember? Everything?" Her dad questioned.
Ivey shook her head. "No. Well, I don't know what I'm supposed to remember, but I remembered his name. That's it. I don't know what else is going on here."
There was a short silence before her father nodded. "Yes, that's only natural. Draco mentioned that there might be a possibility that you would remember."
"It doesn't matter," her mother whispered to her father—loud enough for her to hear. "Whether she remembers or not, she's still my daughter!"
"Our daughter," he corrected, not bothering to hide the conversation. He pulled his wife into his arms. "It's fine, Marcelle. It doesn't make a difference."
Her mother's shoulders shook slightly before she got a hold of herself and nodded.
"Seriously, now. What is going on here?" Ivey scowled at both of them. "Am I not your daughter?" She paused, then, a thought creeping into her mind, and her eyes grew. "Did you guys adopt me?!"
"Look what you did," her father moved away from her mother now to reassure Ivey. "Of course not, honey. You're my daughter through and through. Look at how stubborn you are!"
Relief flooded in, "Then why are you guys fighting about me being your daughter or not?"
Marcelle sigh and began walking away, "Come. It's growing late."
Before Ivey could argue, her dad tugged at her arm once more, following her mother. "Ivey, all will be revealed in time."
"Why can't it be revealed now?" Was that a hint of sarcasm in her voice?
"Ivey…" her father cautioned.
"Fine, fine," Ivey threw her hands up in the air, "Where are we going then?"
Before her parents could answer, though, a familiar voice interrupted, "Commander. Sir. The Spirit is ready."
It was Seymour.
They all turned in the direction of his voice. Seymour stood about six feet away from them, bowing his head slightly at both her parents...and taking Ivey's breath away. No longer wearing a shirt, the muscles on his skin tightened and relaxed. She noted he was lean early on, not too bulky. However, without a shirt, Ivey couldn't help but notice the toned muscles underneath, the way they rippled and stretched...
Ivey swallowed, her throat suddenly parched.
Like her, he had probably bathed, or showered, or both, and changed. The outfit he had on now (or the lack thereof) appeared to be tailored specifically for his body. In fact, Ivey was quite certain this was his usual attire. As for how she knew that...well...all would be explained in due time...right?
A massive black mantle encased his broad shoulders all the way down to his ankles, obscuring most of his body. Although she couldn't see what kind of design was on it from the side, she could make out the colors: black and silver. Ivey also noted the same black and silver-colored guard armor around his arms, starting at his wrist and ending just before his elbows. It seemed to weigh a ton to Ivey, but Seymour barely noticed the added weight.
Waistline down, he wore an identical black and silver belt with side protection stopping just a bit above his thighs. The front of the belt had an insignia of a wolf baring its fangs. As if the bulky items weren't enough, an array of red strings, the size of his palm, were tied at the hips. Looking closely, the collection was made up of several smaller strands. The dark pants seemed very simple-minded when compared to everything else; expanding out the lower it went before binding just past his knees.
On anyone else, it would have looked ridiculous with the added accessories and oversized wrap.
On Seymour, he was magnificent.
"Thank you for bringing her home safely," her dad returned the bow. "Welcome home, Seymour. It certainly has been a while."
Something Seymour said earlier caught Ivey's attention, and she turned to her parents, "Commander…and Sir?"
Her father grinned at her, "She's commanding everywhere she goes."
"This Commander is right in front of you," her mother glared at her father.
Ivey turned away from her parents, rolling her eyes. Another argument was about to commence, and this time she was going to stay out of it. Ignoring their bickering, she glanced around, noticing that the scenery had changed. They had moved from the tall ceiling and ugly draperies to an open patio. All of them were now settled in the middle of a large circular terrace overlooking the outside.
Cloudless blue sky stretched for miles across the barren land. Boulders of rocks, all distinct shapes, and sizes, spread across the base, covered in snow. To Ivey, it was like looking outside from inside the tower. She could even see the small, distinct figures of the few brave visitors making their way around the Tower's trail.
Again, not a whole of sense, but nothing did ever since encountering Seymour.
"We're at the edge of the Tower now," her mom suddenly appeared beside her. Reaching out, she continued, "The walls are invisible for us."
Her hands unfolded, touching walls that weren't there, unable to go no further. "When our ancestors came here from the southeast to call this home, they made these very walls invisible. This way, they can always observe the outside world—even if the outside world cannot see us."
At the word us, Ivey glanced at her mom.
Marcelle smiled back, "Yes, our ancestors—the Shamans."
Her dad continued, placing a hand on Ivey's shoulder, "The Shaman Clan is one of the oldest, respected, and hidden clan across all realms. We hold and protect life—all forms of life—and there is no greater pride than becoming the Shaman King to protect this natural order of life."
She heard every word they said, but none of it was clicking. They were talking nonsense, just like Seymour.
Were these really her parents? Ivey's eyes went back and forth between them. Could they be playing a prank? Perhaps they had hired a reality TV show to play a joke on her?
"You are not on a TV show," her father squeezed her shoulder, "and your mother and I are not crazy either. We belong to the Shaman Clan and serve the Shaman King, who is the judge and juror of this realm—the human realm. Otherwise known as the Physical Realm. We share this world with all sorts of worldly creatures—spirits, wizards, and sorcerers, with angels and demons, gods alike, across all five realms. The Physical, Astral, Spiritual, Divine, and Oversoul realms... Our place is in the Physical Realm to maintain peace and balance here."
"Your father and I have been waiting a long time for this," her mom beamed at her. There was a hint of sadness and a strong sense of wonder and pride in her speech, "When I held you in my arms after giving birth, you looked straight into my eyes without crying. Stubborn and fierce. I knew then that I made the right decision."
"Come," her dad raised his hand from her shoulder and placed both arms behind him. Shoulders straight, looking every inch the Commander's husband, he moved towards Seymour, "Open the gate."
Seymour moved in front of the invisible wall, a few feet from Ivey and her mom. With his left hand extended, he placed his palm against the wall, touching it as her mom had done earlier.
It began to ripple, like waves across the water, originating from his palm. They traveled outwards across the transparent surface that encircled them—as far as the eyes could perceive. Rather than a solid object incapable of form, the wall with the azure sky and desolate land became fluid-like.
Seymour removed his palm and relocated a few inches away, "Lady Ivey, please follow me."
Ivey glanced at her parents, who nodded and cheered her on, "We'll be right behind you!"
Evidently, her parents weren't astonished at her being addressed as Lady Ivey. Nor were they surprised to see this kind of…magic…as Seymour had called it, happening.
Come to think of it, this was similar to what the maids had done earlier to enter the base. So many questions...so many things that came to mind, but her father's words pulled her back: all will be revealed in time.
Taking a deep breath, Ivey composed herself and raised her chin, looking every inch the Commander's daughter, "Very well. Let us go then. Seymour, lead the way."
Comments (0)
See all