The Randoms: Essence and War

Olivia Woodbane stood in a dimly lit hall with a dozen doors on either side of her and one directly across at the end. The candles’ lights flickered, causing the shadows to dance mystically, despite the lack of wind. The mist floating around her ankles and from under the doors told her it was cold in the hall, but Olivia couldn’t feel the chilly bite of the cold.

The shadows still danced, beckoning her to move with them as she took a cautious step, an odd feeling gather in the pit of her stomach. Something wasn’t right about this hall; why couldn’t she feel the cold? Reaching up, she ran her hand over the flame of one of the candles and felt nothing. Curious still she held her hand over the flame again, pulling away after a moment to find she had a circular burn mark in the center of her palm. Why couldn’t she feel the heat? Why couldn’t she feel?

It was as if Olivia was devoid of feelings, both physical and emotional. While the fear of being unfeeling would have swiftly taken hold of any other person’s body, Olivia felt absolutely nothing. It was as if she were numb to everything inside and out.

“The hall…?” Olivia wondered aloud, noting that the Hall of Exposure itself felt different. Could it be the hall that was taking away her power to feel? Whose mind was she in? How did she get here in the first place? What had she been doing before she exposed whoever? Continuing on, Olivia made her silent trek towards the door at the very end of the hall. That door was different; it was calling to her body.

Closing her fingers around the brass knob, Olivia pushed the door open to reveal darkness. The darkness didn’t concern Olivia; it was how the Hall of Exposure worked. Hesitating for only a moment, Olivia stepped forward, allowing the blackness to swallow her. Instantly feeling returned to her body, cold seeped deep into her body and fear paralyzed her. Olivia wanted to run back to the hall, wanted to run back to the nothingness, but it was too late and the door slammed shut, trapping her in whosever’s godforsaken memory.

§

“Are you able to alter her memories through her dream, Nightmare?”

“No,” Nightmare answered, his fingers resting lightly on the surface of the mirror displaying Olivia’s dream. “I can only shift her dream around, I can’t alter her memory.” The picture in the mirror flickered slightly, and Nightmare quickly returned his focus to maintaining both his hold over Olivia’s dream and picture in the mirror, but she was making it difficult for him. “She’s strong; I think she knows that I’m the one shifting her dream.”

“Just stick to the plan, Nightmare. Give her the warning.”

“Yes, sir.”

§

She had felt it for a moment, past her fear, the feeling of strings being pulled and moved around in the memory. Turning away from the now closed door, Olivia tried to push the fear that had wrapped its hand around her heart away, and take in her surroundings. She was in another hall, but this one didn’t have candlelight like the Hall of Exposure, only moonlight filtering through the broken windows. Her feet were bare, and in her hand was a gun, the weight both comforting and frightening.

Then the silence was broken by a scream—a scream the shook her to the very core, a scream that reminded her why she was so scared.

“AVA!” Olivia screamed, shooting off down the hall. She had to save Ava; she had to stop him from stealing her power—from stealing her life. Tears stung her eyes and fell down her cheeks as she ran as fast as her legs would carry her down the hall.

“You’re too late, Olivia…” Onyx taunted her, his voice wrapping around her heart like a snake. Olivia stumbled a bit, fear shaking her body as she stood in front of the door separated her from Ava. Was she too late? Was Ava really…? With a shaky hand, Olivia reached up and pushed the door open. On the center of the floor was her sister. Her golden hair fanned out like a halo, her eyes wide with fear, and her body completely still.

“Ava?” Olivia choked out through the tears, her movement clumsy and shaky as she slowly made her way to Ava. Ava’s green eyes glared up at Olivia, the accusation evident in them, even before she spoke.

“I’m dead because you told…you killed me. You killed me!”

Olivia jolted away, sucking in a shuttering breath. Tears prickled behind her eyes, but she refused to let them form. Hugging herself, Olivia sighed and sat back against the chair. She’d only been asleep for fifteen minutes, but it was enough time for Nightmare to construct a dream in order to give her The Randoms’—well actually Onyx’s—warning. Talk and Ava dies.

Standing up, Olivia wandered over to one of the many windows lining the hall. Sunlight filtered through the large window, warming her chilled flesh. Olivia sighed loudly—an annoying habit she’d formed—and rested her forehead against the hot glass. She thought about The Randoms, the friends she had made and the home she’d found among their numbers. Those things were gone now, of course.

Crossing her arms, Olivia turned her focus away from the painful memories of jokes and parties, from the light kisses she believed were true, and from the sting of betrayal that had nearly killed her and Ava. Instead she focused on the courtyard where she saw two little girls running around in shrieking laughter in what looked like a game of tag. One had blonde hair and looked to be the older of the two, and the second had golden brown locks and looked to be about six. Olivia wondered if they were children of any of the people who worked here, or if they were neighborhood children who’d found the hole in the wall hidden behind a weeping willow in the back.

“Excuse, Miss Woodbane?” Olivia turned around to find a lanky boy no older than twenty. He looked nervous, though he tried to hide it by squaring his shoulders and firm frown. She couldn’t help but smile sadly at that; it seemed that despite her powers being extremely limited to the discovery of truth, people still perceived her as a threat. Randoms are only dangerous when in a group, alone we’re weak she was wanted to tell him, but knew he wouldn’t believe her.

“Yes?”

“The councilmembers are ready for your statement, if you’ll follow me please.” Olivia gave one last glance to the girls playing in the courtyard and sent out a silent pray that they live happy, carefree lives before following the boy into the council room. The boy swiftly left after delivering Olivia, clicking the French doors shut behind him.

All seven clan heads were seated at a long table that one saw in corporate meeting rooms, a recording device at the very center of the table. Four members were on the left: Alastair Rowanwands, Ada Brightendale, Conrad Burnhide and Camille Wyndenkells. Braxton Vikroths, Claudia Leapvaughns and Donavan Woodbane were left on the left. The air was heavy with tension as Olivia took her seat at the end of the table, folding her hands in her lap. The Woodbane clan already had a bad reputation, and her uncle had been working for most of his life to prove to this council as well as the non-Woodbane weavers of the magic world that their clan wasn’t strictly about death, betrayal and evil. And Olivia had practically handed them all the evidence that needed to condemn the Woodbane clan for the next several centuries.

When she’d tried to apologize to her uncle for throwing everything he’d been working so hard for in the fire he’d put his hand on her shoulder, stared into her eyes and told her, “Everyone makes mistakes, Olivia. What truly defines a person is the action they take after that mistake is made.”

So here Olivia was, taking responsibility for the mistake she’d made. She only hoped that once the other members heard her story they would understand the reasons she made the choices she did and it would make things easier for her uncle again.

“Welcome Olivia Woodbane,” Ada Brightendale said, the head of her mother’s clan. “Before we begin this hearing, we have a few questions we’d like for you to answer first. These questions as well as your statement will be recorded for future use, understand?”

Olivia nodded.

“Please state your full name and date of birth.”

“Olivia Hazel Woodbane. My birthday is July 3, 1994.”

“Please state your mother’s maiden name, your father’s name, and the full names of any siblings.”

“My mother’s name is Miranda Brightendale, my father’s name is Cedric Woodbane, and…” Olivia felt tears prickle behind her eyes at the thought of her sister. The image of her in the hospital bed, tubes running in and out of her body caused her voice to break slightly, “my older sister’s name is Avery Jade Woodbane.”

“Now, you have two levels to your power. Name them.”

Olivia almost smiled. It was so blatantly obvious that was a trick question, however the way the question was formatted made it simple to answer without being dishonest. Shaking her head, she pointed out, “That’s incorrect—on a level. My first level, the one that tells me when a person is lying has a counterpart.”

“And what is that counterpart, Miss Woodbane?” Alastair Rowanwands questioned.

“That I am unable to outright lie. My second level is the Hall of Exposure where I am able to dive into the mind of any person, whether they are conscious or not, and expose everything they are to me.”

The questions continued the same way, the members would try to trick Olivia up with trip questions, but she would also answer them correctly. It took them nearly an hour to complete their questions before they were satisfied that she was the real Olivia Woodbane.

“Normally, Miss Woodbane, you would be charged with treason for the crimes that have been committed against the council and the magic community,” Alastair Rowanwands began, “but because you were able to stop Onyx from beginning a coup and the information that you possess it has been decided that you will have no extreme punishment, however you will have sixteen weeks of community service.”

Olivia couldn’t help the glance she cast her uncle, and she wondered what role he’d played in her light punishment. Silently she vowed she wouldn’t let her family down again. It was hard, though, because Olivia could feel the memories she’d been suppressing bubbling under the surface, ready to attack her with the emotions she thought she had locked tightly away. Olivia stared at the red blinking light for a long moment, wondering where she should begin. She felt that every detail was important, no matter how much she might want to keep the information locked away.

Finally, Olivia just decided to begin at the start of this whole mess. “Everything started on the first day of school—when I first laid eyes on Onyx…”