Prophecies and Promises

The girl’s heartbeat was racing, pounding against her ribcage as she approached the huge wrought iron gates. A surge of an unknown emotion rose up inside her chest, a fountain of the sweetest liquid on her unaccustomed taste buds. She reached her trembling fingers out, her pale skin glowing in the blue-tinged moonlight. Her fingertips brushed the black metal and she hesitated for the space of a heartbeat, before wrapping her thin hands around the bars and pushing with all her might. The gates opened obediently. One last glance behind her at Castle manor house, now disappearing into the black misty night, and it was done. The fountain reached its peak inside her chest, the unidentified water danced over her heart and she was truly happy for the first time she could remember.
Land’s End was in her sight; Sennen Cove was far behind her. She ran across the uneven floor, feeling the rough grass on her bare ankles and the steep slopes crumbling slightly beneath her feet. The sun was setting directly in front of her, sending rays of warm coloured light across her face. She didn’t stop running, she couldn’t stop running – she was determined to increase the distance between her and her prison.
The cliff lip raced towards her and she skidded to a halt, stopping a few inches from the terrifying drop. There was near silence, and the only sound was the gentle waves kissing the rocks far below her. The girl sank to her knees, letting the setting sun warm her flushed cheeks. Her fingers knotted in the long grass. She let her eyes drift to a close as a gentle breeze picked up, shifting tendrils of her hair around her shoulders and across her face.
The girl remembered a lesson from her tutor, years ago now, where she had reluctantly sat still under the never-wavering gaze of the middle-aged woman she had come to loathe. Something that had made her proud to live where she did, in a precariously balanced manor house on top of a secluded hillside in south England. She had heard that if she walked to the tip of Land’s End and looked out across the vast ocean, there would be no land standing between her and the glorious shores of the United States. With this knowledge, the girl felt even further from her home.
The sun disappeared beneath the still, glassy water with a final explosion of fiery colours, lighting up the empty sky. As the sky blackened around her and the stars opened their tiny eyes, the girl sank into the view being poured luxuriously over the landscape before her, falling slowly to the side and resting on the bouncy grass. Away from the huge, empty space that was her bedroom, away from the protective and guarding stares of the three security cameras and away from the cold four-poster cage, she felt free.
She gazed at the winking stars, curled up underneath the blanket of night, and closed her eyes. The confines of her bedroom seemed a million miles away as she lay on the soft, tickling grass, and the hushed sound of the waves playing reached her ears. She drifted slowly and peacefully off to sleep, with the sky standing guard over her small form.
At that precise moment, as the girl fell into a deep, untroubled slumber, another being was stirring to life after a long day of sleep. Bella-Donna Strider awoke to the moonlight filtering through her translucent curtains, covering her dark bedroom in ghostly light. She stretched, her long pale limbs emerging from beneath the heavy black covers and what looked like glitter flowing from her fingertips. Bella-Donna threw back the covers, leapt out of bed and pulled back the curtains, her wide eyes gazing up at the pearly white moon. More glitter cascaded from the curtains where her hands gripped them tightly, and the pale woman’s mouth spread into a wide smile. She could sense that something had changed, and it was life-changing for everyone.
She threw her arms high above her head and began to gracefully spin around her room with joy. As she moved, a shower of silver sparks trailing from her hands spiralled around her body, adorning her thick black hair and lighting up her pale blue eyes.
“Jett, Felony, come quick!” called Bella-Donna, in a voice that was reminiscent of wind chimes and of light rain hitting fresh leaves in spring. There was silence for a few seconds, the only sound being the metallic shimmering of the sparks still dancing with her in midair. Then little footsteps were heard from somewhere else in the house, closely followed by heavier footsteps from in the opposite direction. Both of her children burst into her room at the same time, and their excited eyes took in their dancing, glittering mother. No words were needed for the children to pick up on the exhilaration slowly filling up the room, and as the little girl began to dance with her mother, tiny purple sparks burst from her fingertips, a sweeter and more innocent representation of Bella-Donna’s glamorous glitter.
Jett, however, sat and watched his family with a sinking feeling in his chest. The thing he had been dreading for years had finally happened. Now it all rested on his shoulders; the future and welfare of his mother and sister, the events that were to come, the path to be chosen for the poor, neglected Castle girl. Everything was in his hands. He felt like an unwilling puppeteer, the strings of his puppets glued to his resisting fingers. Jett fell backwards onto the thick covers of his mother’s bed, trying to ignore the sounds of their laughter and merriment near him. He needed to prepare himself for the gruelling journey ahead.
Back on the cliff, the girl stirred, feeling the strange sensation of the sunlight kissing her eyelids and cheeks. Her chocolate hair was wet where it had been pressed to dewy grass, and her limbs felt stiff. The rays of light were teasing their way through her eyelids, gently pushing them open. The sky was clear and tinged with peach and pale pink, slowly blending into the bright blue that stretched above the girl. She sat up, stretching her arms above her head. Though her surroundings were peaceful, and though the air was carrying a sedative silence, the previous night’s events fell back into her mind like a wrecking ball. The more she remembered, the more discouraged she became, and her hands covered her face in shame. She couldn’t believe she’d finally run away from home, after so many long years of fantasizing about it, she’d actually done it. The media would be having a field day.
“You’re awake,” a voice broke the silence and the girl jumped, scrambling backwards and slipping on the wet grass, her head snapping from side to side. “No, it’s okay! I’m Jett, I’m not going to hurt you, I promise!” he stopped a few feet from where she was sitting, eyeing her nervously. The girl couldn’t decide whether or not she wanted to believe him; he looked strangely familiar, but she couldn’t think of where she might’ve seen him.
“I’m Kerrie...” she muttered, not daring to take her eyes off the boy for a second. Jett nodded.
“I know,” he sighed, looking behind him then stepping closer to her. He knelt down, evidently trying to keep a distance between them. “Listen, I want to help you. My mother is Bella-Donna Strider, she knows you’ve run away from home and we don’t have much time.”
Kerrie needed not say anything; her face said enough. As soon as Jett said aloud his surname, a look of utter revulsion flashed across Kerrie’s face. She shuddered, cringing away from him, her eyes flashing with burning anger. She couldn’t believe she had allowed herself to be in this close a proximity to a Strider.
“Yes, I know, just forget that! My mother is going to try and find you, and when she does she’s going to use you for a stupid prophecy! You don’t know how long she’s been waiting for you to run away, Kerrie, and if you don’t come with me then she’s going to find you,” Jett’s nostrils flared as he spoke and anger burned in his eyes. Kerrie looked down in alarm to see sparks were bursting from his fingers and showering over her hand.
“So it’s true?” she whispered, unable to take her eyes off the black glittery substance raining onto her lap.
“What, that we’re sorcerers? Of course it’s true,” he said impatiently, letting go of her hand. “Are you coming with me?”
Kerrie didn’t reply immediately, but turned to look out at the sea. An adventure was precisely the thing she had been looking for, but the entire situation was so unexpected and mysterious that she didn’t know what to say. If her mother found out that she was running around with none other than Jett Strider, Kerrie would probably be disowned. If the media found out, she’d probably be disowned and forced to go into hiding. Surprisingly, the thought of running away with someone she was supposed to hate and going against her mother’s wishes so drastically sent shivers of excitement up her spine. Kerrie was tired of trying to please her mother, so tired of competing with her older sisters. She wanted to run away from it all, and start anew. She turned back to Jett, bit her lip and nodded slowly. He smiled broadly, getting to his feet and holding out a hand to her. Kerrie ignored him and stood up neatly, gently brushing off her skirt.
“So, what are we going to do?” she said expectantly.
Jett frowned, evidently not understanding. Kerrie rolled her eyes.
“About this prophecy. If it involves me, I want to know what it says,” She said thoughtfully. Jett turned his back on her, looking at the rock from behind which he had just been standing.
“If you want anything to do with that prophecy, you’re insane,” he snapped over his shoulder, watching her as she fiddled with the hem of her cardigan. After a long silence, she looked up.
“Will your mother be awake?” she asked, taking on a suspiciously innocent tone of voice.
“Probably. Why?” Jett narrowed his amethyst eyes. She scoffed.
“I fancy stopping in for a chat,” she rolled her eyes. “No, I want to know what the prophecy is.”
“Are you crazy?” Jett’s eyes nearly burst from his skull in surprise when he realised what she was getting at. Kerrie turned her back on him and began walking further inland, towards the vast forest that separated Land’s End from Sennen Cove.
Kerrie’s mind had been made up, and there was no changing it. Her eyes were set in the threatening trees. She had been told by her mother, long ago, never to wander into the forest, simply because the Striders inhabited it. She had always thought it was a lie invented to keep her from getting lost in the trees, but something was now telling her different. The same magic that had danced around her fingers before, Jett’s magic, was pushing at her shoulders and trying to draw her backwards. This knowledge kept her feet moving. She was getting dangerously close to the edge of the sea of trees.
“You can’t go in there, my mother will know!” Jett’s desperate voice came from behind her. Kerrie replied without turning around.
“Parents have never intimidated me, much,” She smirked to herself.
“Kerrie, stop!” he grabbed her arm tightly and pushed her against a tree on the outskirts of the forest. “You go in there, the prophecy will come true. You’ll die, Kerrie.”
“Don’t touch me!” she shrieked, pushing him backwards and plunging into the dark forest. Jett groaned and ran in behind her, groaning again when he realised she wasn’t in sight. The trees, standing firm like soldiers, made it impossible to distinguish one direction from the next, and the sudden misty darkness disoriented him.
Jett called Kerrie’s name angrily, walking forwards and looking around. The darkness was smothering his eyes; he needed light. He held up his hand as if holding a ball, and closed his eyes. Jett cleared his mind of everything but his black, beautiful magic, and the much-needed light. His hand suddenly felt unbearably hot, and his eyes snapped open to see his fingers were ablaze. Jett rolled his eyes and shook his hand lazily, and the flame disappeared. He closed his eyes again, breathing deeply and focusing now on the black ball of light he had created only twice before. He thought of how much he needed to find Kerrie, and the danger she would be in if he didn’t. He felt suddenly drained, and his hand gave a mighty throb. As he opened his eyes, he sighed in relief, now gazing at a tennis ball-sized orb, glowing and emitting rings of black sparks. His surroundings lit up in the black light.
He began running, hoping with his whole heart that Kerrie hadn’t stumbled across the clearing. The trees rushed past him, leaves whipping his arms and roots grabbed at his feet. Jett called her name once more, spotting the ivy archway between two tall, thick-trunked trees that marked the entrance to his house. He ran towards it, building speed until, his lungs screaming in protest, he burst through the archway onto a dark meadow, made of a thicker darkness than that of the rest of the forest. Kerrie was standing a short distance away, gazing up at an incredible pillar of smoke emerging from Jett’s house. The smoke was lazily rolling out of a chimney seated in the centre of the roof. It was peppered with what looked like silver embers from a crackling fire, rising up then penetrating the canopy of leaves overhead.
The light in the clearing wasn’t quite right; it was almost a deep blue, a kind of darkness that emitted light. The little house was pieced together like a giant jigsaw made from large slabs of grey stone and dark wood. The patterns of the walls were partially hidden by the ivy that was steadily climbing to the roof. The door was, upon first glance, undetectable, but as Kerrie looked closer she noticed a hand-shaped space in the thick ivy curtain. The stone in this space was not grey, like the rest of the house, but a deep purple, and as Kerrie lifted a curious hand and pressed a fingertip to the plum-coloured stone, she felt with surprise that it was ever so slightly vibrating. She flattened her palm against the stone, fitting her hand into the gap in the ivy, and stared in amazement as a large section of the wall, the shape of an average-sized door, sank back into the house. With a grinding, rumbling sound, the door moved back a few inches, and then stopped. It swung open silently, seemingly without any encouragement, and Kerrie stepped inside without a second thought.
The Strider household was not at all how she had imagined it. The walls were painted black and resembled the night sky, with constellations and the whorls of distant galaxies represented in alarming detail. There was no visible light source, although the sun had risen outside, and the darkness felt old and musty. Kerrie ventured further into the house, passing three closed doors before coming to a grand staircase at the end of the hallway. Jett was behind her, swearing under his breath, and Kerrie could feel the discomfort and fear radiating off him. She rested her hand lightly on the banister, feeling the cool metal through the thick layer of dust. As she slowly began to scale the staircase, her curiosity melted into fear. Did she really want to find out what this prophecy foretold of her?
The top of the staircase was no different from the hallway downstairs – the same paint covered the walls, and the same mysterious ornaments hung from the ceiling. There was a huge plant to Kerrie’s left, almost as tall as her, with large green leaves that appeared to be embedded with thousands upon thousands of crystals. There were no closed doors in the hall, only archways leading onto separate rooms, and one leading onto a long corridor. In one of the rooms, a ghostly light was drifting into the hallway, and in this light a bookshelf crammed with ancient-looking books was just visible. Kerrie walked forward, momentarily forgetting her discomfort and becoming mesmerized by the view before her. Her mind was filled with visions of quills and parchment, of thick leather book covers and the impossibly familiar smell of opening a book, even if for the first time.
Jett exhaled angrily behind her, snapping her from the comfortable visions in her mind, and she turned around. His expression was angry but his eyes were pleading. He was begging her not to take another step forwards, she understood that, but she had to keep going. She’d come this far, hadn’t she? Turning her back on Jett’s desperate face, she walked into the study and almost instantly had her breath stole from her. In the centre of the room, sitting on a pedestal, was a huge crystal ball. The misty light was pouring from the complex patterns that were being formed in the ball, and something too fine to be glitter, too beautiful to be gold was filling the room. Kerrie’s legs were turning to dust beneath her but somehow she was pulled towards the pedestal by something deeper than desire. She reached out her pale, shaking hand, desperate to feel the cool crystal beneath her fingertips. As she came into contact with it, however, she gasped, as it wasn’t just cool – it was ice cold, colder than anything she’d ever touched, and it was holding her fingers in place. A current ran through her hand and up her arm, bursting its way into her head and covering her eyes.
It was like a dream, except Kerrie knew she was still awake, and she could still feel the unbearably cold crystal sucking the energy from her hands. She saw a horrifying image of herself, something she would never be able to forget. She watched as a beautiful, dark-haired woman wrapped black rags around her wrists and ankles, tying her to a metal pole a few feet from the ground. Kerrie was horrified at her own appearance – her hair was limp and greasy, her face was blackened with ash and bruises, and almost every inch of her skin had been sickeningly engraved with some bizarre, unknown lettering. The blood red letters stood out vividly against her snowy white complexion. The woman was beaming at her, occasionally reaching up to caress her face or tuck strands of her hair behind her ears. Kerrie felt sick to her stomach, moisture was flooding her eyes but she couldn’t close them. She noticed that beside the metal pole, Jett stood, tears pouring down his face and his hands shaking with grief. They both watched as the woman pulled a glorious sword from beneath her cloak, the blade embedded with gemstones of every colour. However, the gemstones were not what dragged the gut-wrenching scream from deep in Kerrie’s chest. The smooth silver of the sword was painted with blood, now so old in some places it was jet black. Kerrie watched herself begin to shriek with fear, watched Jett tug at the woman’s arms, and felt a scream of her own building in her chest.
Her hand was ripped away from the freezing crystal, and Jett’s arms cradled her as she fell to the floor, his hand pressed over her mouth and muffling her screams.
“You see? You must come with me,” he whispered, his voice trembling. He rocked her gently, holding her head close to his body. She sobbed in earnest onto his chest. Kerrie now understood. His mother was part of a repulsive cult, and she was the sacrifice. It was Jett’s job to find her and present her to Bella-Donna, where she would be murdered in the most sickening of ways. However, he had chosen to save her life, endangering his in the process. She lay on the floor of the study, in the arms of the boy who was supposed to be assisting in her murder, in the house of the woman who wanted to murder her, and wanted with her whole heart to be back in the prison that was Castle manor.