VII THE MOVEMENT

An ancient Celtic deity of life and wealth, rides on her white mare: overlooking her homeland. She is said to be associated with the Goddess of fertility, Epona. Her name carries a symbol of her power and influence, meaning Queen. Time is patient and kind, be ready for the next phase of your life. The transition will be hard but fear not—all will go well. The Otherworld welcomes the brave.

* * *

— Gio —

Crossroads, hath made it so, it dwelled within my mind.

“Councilmen, please be silent, I bequeath thee!”

Father’s booming voice rendered the once rowdy council members silent. He and I called upon the tribes, clans of old, and not so ancient lineage in the Otherworld. We needed to spike the morale, of course, things never went as planned. The office wasn’t by any means human-like—it stretched to about the size of an average auditorium for a few hundreds of warm bodies, titan pillars made of pure amethyst at every edge, twisted and carved with runes of protection—it kept the members on edge. I raised my brow, more than on edge, they remained in check. Although they tried to hide their shaken forms—a noticeable twitch in their brows, hair raising behind their neck, and louder heartbeats said otherwise. What became a mission of hope turned into quick chaos. I eyed the elders and enchantresses, hoping to see a few turned hearts. How to change it, I wondered. A few particulars shielded their scowls, eyes scorched waiting for a battle to come at them. Whereas others preferred to remain hidden in their hovels, I didn’t blame them. The warrior tribe of the West Region mumbled curses underneath their breaths. Much had changed since the Dark Ages. There were too few of us left to fight what came to pass.

The faint-eyed minstrel and songbird, Himavat, clicked his tongue, turning everyone’s attention to him, “Dante, with respect, our brethren suffered the last century of corruption. We remain scarce to guide the dead to rebirth and our land is famished. Why not ask the South, they appear to have many to spare?”

Stroking his chin, he gave Cadius a sharpened look, who winced and averted his eyes over to me. I raised an inquisitive brow. Did he think I would change the subject, this is what he’s here for? I leaned down to whisper encouraging words. Cadius nodded and beamed, his eyes squinted one moment forlornly, and hopeful the next. He blew a hearty breath and my words appeared to have worked for him until I saw him fiddling with the hem of his sleeve, biting into his cheek, and grimacing back at Himavat. Himavat bowed to father and leaned on his chair, and picked at his tail feathers. The silver loose strands reached his lap and blocked most of his iridescent skin—a trait found only in the later descendants of the Himalayan Goddess.

“It’s too risky. The South Region clan doesn’t engage in conflict, we’re keepers of the peace and we—” Ashen-faced Cadius’s soft-spoken voice was hardly clear—some even mocked by rearing their ears.

He likely wanted nothing more than to escape from this situation. I patted his shoulder, peering at the mumbling Otherworlders. Deep breaths Gio, he’s afraid, and with good reason. Still, he had not much choice in the matter, even if he was of neutral territory. The tight-lipped hermits held their hands together, cantering a soothed hum. I sometimes wished I had the same hope they did, to protect everything important to me. Kept all of me safe—to never be harmed.

“Oh, shut up! Your Star died long ago. You lowborn's shouldn’t be kept in council,” Barias said to Cadius.

Always the troubled, Barias, never the silenced. The crowd raged forward, pointing fingers over insignificant trivialities. The floor trembled under the stomping of Barias’ warriors, lined up behind him. Their limbs covered with ruby flecks of snake twine, danced lively, scouring the edges of their buff muscles. All the while, my phone continued vibrating with Julio’s sent texts about my plans in Spain. I can almost picture his pointed stare, grinding chin, poking his watch. He knew I hesitated to see him—it's hard knowing he's returned, and I could feel him getting closer. The peacekeepers hummed louder and the were-tribe plugged their ears. A guard narrowed over the roaring barrage of people, I shook him down. It’s better to let them waste their energy, they’ll be too tired to interrupt me later. The defenders of the Otherworld chatted amongst themselves, smirking at the roaring clans. Their leader Lumila hummed softly, she didn’t even bother to look at the chaos ensuing. The guardians whose numbers dwindled with each passing season moved out of the way, cornered against the marbled walls. Father passed me a worrying glance—this had gone long enough.

“How dare you! We have as much right to be here as any of the Ancients. You’re the ones who shouldn’t be here, always spilling blood. Reduced to nothing but a shadow,” Billo hollered back at Barias.

Oh, crap. “Coun—” They cut me off.

A soft pillow of fur slammed across my face. I heaved and sputtered tufts of lycan fur. My teeth clenched, fingers itching and waiting for the latch to drop. Why couldn’t they ever behave in the council?

“Lies!”

I watched Barias’s skin turn to onyx, his rubies bled aflame, claws out at Cadius’s right hand, Billo. Having heard enough of this rattle, “let me borrow this for a moment, Aria,” I pointed to her stave, not noticing her mangled face and shaken hands. I swung the stave over the fuming clans, some of the councilmen shrieked, seeking shelter behind the bookshelves while some warm bodies jumped out of the way. A booming light blinded the room. The air became crisp, nipping our skin. I puffed white breaths, glaring at Barias and Billo encased in ice, and all except for their irritated eyes were frozen in place. They’ll have to wait another century if they ever want to settle scores, it would never happen on my watch. Father nearly choked on his spit, withholding his laughter. His lips twitched, trying to remain collected. I firmed my grip on the stave and thrust it into the cobblestone tiles. The floor cracked and split up, a golden mist oozed from my palms. My blazing orbs stabbed at the gawking, weak limbering, dripping in sweat, council.

“Right. Now the children are in timeout, perhaps the more civilized adults can continue the meeting. Civilly, of course,” I said not expecting this meeting to further.

If Julio were here, he’d be eating chips and snorting, getting chatty with the guards, feeling sorry for me. No amount of time-sharing interests could change their opinion of each other.

Crack!

The stave started to splinter and crack until it snapped, bursting into dust in my grasp. I could hear Aria whimper, mumbling amid the back of her breath, not another stave. Truth be told I did feel sorry. This must be the one-hundredth time I’ve broken her staves. I gathered the bit of starlight dust on the stones and handed it gently to her. Her aged face regressed looking over the crime scene.

“I’ll repair it again, I’m sorry—”

She huffed, shrugging me off, “It’s quite alright, piccolino. This wasn’t the first nor the last time you’ll break my staves. I’m quite used to it by now. Look, I’m an ancient crone, I’ve watched over you since the day you were brought to this realm. There’s nothing to forgive, but I do have one tiny favor, be delicate next time. Ja?”

Aria hunched slightly, her multi-accented voice was full of resplendent youth unlike her silver-waist length mane and aging skin. The effervescence of her eyes shows she was once a spirited woman who embraced life—a charming beauty beyond the Otherworld.

“This meeting is postponed. We’re getting nowhere fighting against one another and for what? Shameful, the lot of it,” Father gruffly put it.

Dad waved off the clans who fell in line, kneeling and bowing their heads to us. Their figures grew misty—the office was left empty except for Aria, father, a few guards, and myself in the room. Dad scratched his brow, tapped his callused finger on his desk, facing his back at us—he weaved a worried gaze at the fuzzy images of the city of Venice in the cascading mirror.

“Giuseppe, did the Caretaker deliver?” Dad asked.

Scratching my throat, I took my time logging at my texts. “It seems he might have, but we’re waiting for confirmation.”

I held the cold trinket in my pocket, tracing its rigid, aged scratches. Arias tilted her head, I turned away and snapped my fingers. A young boy with shaggy-black curls blinked at me and Dad.

“Big brother! Daddy!” Sid beamed out loud.

He hugged my thigh, nuzzled my chest, and pulled the cuffs of my suit. A purring came from his throat and his two-cream tails blurred. Aria zoomed in and cooed at the little twirp. Sid’s fuzzy ears twitched and giggled together with her.

“What? No hug for your Father. I’m hurting here.”

Dad sniffled, hunched on his chair, and peaked between his fingers. Sid swooshed and landed on our father’s lap. I snorted at Aria who nearly tripped over empty-handed, pouting over her shoulder at Dad. Her face cracked, saying, stingy demon.

“Daddy don’t cry. There-there.”

Sid rubbed his glowing hands-on Dad’s eyes, even though Dad was smirking at Sid’s growing efforts. The poor kid puffed his cheeks, scrunched his brows, ignorant of the fact, Dad was playing a prank. Mom would probably pinch Dad’s thigh and call him a manchild.

“Thank you, Sid. Wow! I’m all better now! You’re so strong.”

“I know!” Sid quipped and extended his hand out to Dad.

“What is—” Dad got cut off.

“Payment for my services. Mother said you have to pay, nothing is free in this world.”

Dad blinked, looking up at Sid and down at his hand.

“I’m your father.”

“Even more reason to pay me.”

My little brother nodded his head, waving a cocky finger at Dad who guffawed and rubbed his bouncy curls. Sid raised his chin, his tails swinging. Father shook his head and handed Sid a Loki token—generous. Sid’s blooming blues radiated, clutching his token in glory, and carefully placed it inside his overall’s front pocket.

“I hate to break this moment but Sid, did he get the package?”

Sid straightened his back, tried to wipe the grin off his face, and bowed slightly, “Yes….”

“Did he take it well?” I asked, waiting for the good news.

“Define well.”

Sid’s twitchy ears flattened and his tails drooped over the desk. Dad gave me a once over, meanwhile, Aria held my hand. I took a shaky breath, “how bad was it?” I said, placid and struck down.

“Well… he left the house laughing.”

Everyone in the office, even the guards' jaws slacked.