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Authors: M.A. KROPF

BOOK: Aurator, The
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“What do you mean they don’t know? Don’t you think they would know their own relatives?”

Max closed his eyes and sighed, “This is a conversation for another day. I’d like to get back to Nostradamus if that’s okay—it’s why we’re here.”

I was irritated by this. Here was a man claiming to know more about my family than I did, or than my parents did, and he wasn’t willing to go any further. “Fine,” I said with a seven-year-old attitude. I had to chuckle at myself, I was so familiar with the emotional problems of a seven-year-old girl. This self-realization, however, did not prevent me from folding my arms over my chest with a harrumph in defense of… well… something.

Max smiled, “It’s okay, we’ll talk about it later.” Then he motioned for Aaron to continue.

Aaron took a sip of his coffee, then continued, “Nostradamus was an apothecary, then went to medical school.”

“Another doctor?” I interrupted.

Aaron nodded his head, “Yes, but not the conventional way. He went to medical school but was kicked out when they found out he was an apothecary. This job was considered menial labor, lower class, blue collar. However, in those days you could apprentice with another doctor and then practice, which is what he did. He wrote books on medicine as well as predictions of the future.”

Max raised his hand to interject, “He was a future teller also, like Hippocrates… and you. And by the way, Walt Whitman was also a nurse, as well as being a writer and one of us. We’re not all doctors. There are Aurators in all areas of medicine.”

I lowered my head and raised my hand toward my head as if tipping an imaginary hat. “Thanks for that, I was beginning to wonder.”

Aaron cleared his throat, “Can I continue?” I raised my eyebrows and Max chuckled. “His predictions were never supposed to be publicized, they were written, just as Hippocrates’s were, for the benefit of our kind. To help us positively affect history by eliminating those most evil. He was conned out of his writings and they were published. This warned the Caduceus side, and they were able to protect the people his prophecies told about longer than they should have been. Subsequently they were able to engineer much more evil than should have been allowed.”

I had to ask, “Who were these people he wrote about?”

“Napoleon… Hitler… and it is suspected that the third person in his predictions was Osama Bin Laden, but there’s still no proof that he’s the one. It is very difficult to interpret the writings.”

I had to agree that all three men created far more havoc on earth than most. “Was there an Aurator who had him as a purpose?”

“Yes,” answered Aaron, “but it was suspected that some of the Caduceus had infiltrated his troops so that he was under constant protection and guard. He may not have been the next in line but he created enough havoc.”

Max spoke, “It is important to realize that while we need to eliminate certain people because they are the incarnation of evil, not all evil can be eradicated. Good cannot survive without evil. We would cease to exist. This is why your serpodus is so important for us. We may have the chance, through you, to offset what has been done. To prepare for what others refer to as Armageddon. We believe the other side is organizing for the first time ever because according to Nostradamus’s predictions. If Bin Laden was the incarnation of the third person, then he was to be the last of these leaders. The end result of all of this, my dear, is that with your direction we will be able to organize ourselves to fight that which intends to rid the world of all that is good.”

I turned toward the window and noticed that the first light was creeping into the night sky. This was my favorite time of day. Every day a chance to start over… a new beginning.

I looked at my watch and announced, “I should go. They’ll be expecting me home.”

Max nodded in agreement, “What an amazing night! Thanks for letting us be a part of it.”

Aaron and Max stood as I did, and Max reached out to give me a large hug. I sighed and felt the turmoil inside me, churning between a feeling of being overwhelmed and a sense of purpose and design.

Max cradled my chin in his hand. “This will be okay, this is your destiny. Next week when the Seniors get here, we will get more organized.”

I didn’t speak, I just nodded my head and left. I changed into my scrubs in the car. After all, I had been at work all night… not murdering someone. I walked into the house. I took a deep breath… home, then walked upstairs to change into pajamas and wash my face. I climbed into bed and snuggled up next to Luke. He made a slight moaning sound to acknowledge my presence, and I fell deeply asleep.

 

13. Truths
 

I was happy to undertake simple household and family tasks. I cleaned the house, cooked, played and did homework with my girls, and spent some much needed quality time with my husband. I was happy and lying with him after some much needed one-on-one time when he asked, “What’s going on with you?”

I closed my eyes, grateful to be facing away from him in bed so that he couldn’t see my face. “Nothing, why?” My voice did not sound convincing—how could it when what I said wasn’t true.

“Well, I just noticed that you haven’t been yourself lately. You’ve been a little distracted. Do you want to talk about anything?” He was twirling his fingers in the hair at the base of my neck and I shuddered as a chill raced through me. I turned over toward him. I loved how our naked bodies felt next to one another. I reached up to his face and placed my hand aside his cheek.

“I’m fine. Maybe it’s just the beginning of a midlife crisis.” I smiled, trying to appear nonchalant about the whole thing. His eyes squinted ever so slightly as he looked at me.

“Are you going to a tanning salon?”

My heart sped, how could I think that he of all people wouldn’t notice the difference. “No, why?”

“Wow, you just seem so tan, and it makes your eyes look a little lighter and brighter.” He was examining me very closely, and I was starting to become uncomfortable with having to avoid the subject.

“Your mind is playing tricks on you.” I said as I reached around his neck and pressed my lips to his. “Round two?” I asked. He smiled and rolled over on top of me. I had to admit that while I felt terrible about not telling him everything that was going on, these distraction techniques always worked and… well… I never seemed to mind either.

 

At work I was noticing subtle changes. I always had what is called a nurse’s “gut,” meaning that I sensed when something wasn’t right. Many nurses have this, some more in tune than others. Mine was always spot on. I had once walked down the hall, and as I passed a patient room I stopped, sensing that something was wrong. I had walked into the room and found a man who was in an unmonitored room… unconscious. I had called a code blue to let everyone know there was a patient who needed resuscitation and we saved him.

But what I was feeling now was… different. I walked up to my patient and could feel, somehow
feel
, that his heart was beating irregularly. I placed him on the monitor and his heart rate was, in fact, irregular. While it was not a life-threatening rhythm, I shouldn’t have known this. I mean… a feeling is one thing, but this was different. I would have to remember to talk to Max about this.

That night while sleeping I had a dream… well maybe now I can call them visions. I was with Max and Aaron when Max got a call that his office had been ransacked and he needed to return to the university immediately. Upon arriving we stepped into his office, which had been completely turned over, books pulled from shelves, furniture cut open and stuffing strewn about. His desk had been smashed practically into splinters, and several holes had been made in the walls to expose studs. I focused on the floor where Max had kept Hippocrates’s journal and noticed that the board was missing and the box was shattered… the journal was gone.

Then in the doorway a dark figure appeared, no face, just a feeling of impending doom. My eyes were drawn toward something brilliantly bright in the middle of the object, and as it came into focus I realized what it was… the sign of the Caduceus. I put my hand up and the object flew backwards and disappeared.

I woke suddenly, covered in sweat, heart pounding, and gasped to catch my breath. My husband woke and put his arm around me. My heart rate immediately slowed and I felt calm… how does he do that? I explained it was just a bad dream and got up to splash water on my face. I looked up in the mirror and wasn’t sure who I was looking at. I was changing so fast I felt as if I was losing who I was, or who I was supposed to be. I hung my head and silently asked for guidance. From whom I do not know.

 

I met Max at his office the next day because he wanted to bring me up to speed on the organization and what I could expect from the visitors. I knocked and heard, “Come in.”

“Hello, hello Megan. Good to see you.” He stood and came over to give me a hug. He motioned for me to sit and I walked over to the couch.

As I sat down I started, “I know you want to bring me up to speed, but there’s something I need to tell you first.”

Seeing the urgency on my face he furrowed his eyebrows and nodded for me to continue.

“I… I had a vision.” It was hard for me to say that, almost as if he would laugh at how ridiculous that idea actually was. Instead he leaned forward with eyes wide.

“Go ahead, what?” He said this with so much enthusiasm that for a moment I lost my train of thought and had to regroup. He waited patiently while I flipped through the memories in my head trying to put together what I was going to say.

“Okay, last night I had a vision that while you, Aaron, and I were out you received a call that your office had been broken into, everything was in shambles, and the floor, where the journal is, was open, the box had been removed, smashed, and the journal was gone.”

Max’s breathing sped and he seemed a bit nervous. He looked around as if to see if anyone else was around, but then turned back to me. “What else?”

“When I looked toward the door there was a dark figure there and in the middle was a shining object.” I paused.

“What was the object, Megan?” I could tell he was a bit impatient that I wasn’t telling the story fast enough.

“It was a Caduceus.”

Max exhaled sharply, “No!”

His exclamation startled me. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, no, but this means that they may know where the book is and, more importantly, they’re strategizing… organizing. Megan, we have to get the journal out of here. Somewhere safe. But where? Did anything else happen in the vision or was that it?”

After his last response I hesitated to tell him but explained how I had put my hand up in an act of protection and the object flew back and disappeared. He nodded as if he understood something that clearly I did not, got up, and walked over to his desk, flipping through a Rolodex… wow, do people still have those? He pulled out a number and dialed the phone. “Hello?” he said into the phone. “Yes, hello, look, I’m sorry, but this is a business call. Megan had a vision.”

He continued to tell the entire vision to the unknown person on the other end. When he finished he was silent for a long time. Then he put his head into his hand, “No, I don’t think I can do that… what if they… I know but… I know, I know you’re right. Very well then, I will… and… I know I don’t have to tell you this, but I think this information should stay between you and me.” Then looking up at me, “And, of course, Megan.”

Hanging up the phone, he walked over to the journal’s hiding place and again moved the floorboard without touching it. He pulled out the box that housed Hippocrates’s journal and moved to hand it to me. “You have to take this.”

I hid my hands behind my back, “What are you doing? I can’t take this… what are you thinking? I can’t… I won’t.”

Max hung his head, “Megan you are our only hope… possibly our last hope. This is your destiny, your vision proves that. You are to be the keeper and protector of the journal.”

I reluctantly extended my arms and took the box. He sat down, looking so tired. Then, motioning for me to sit, he started to explain. “You had the dream of protection. I had a similar dream, but no one was trying to take it. You must take this, hide it, and protect it. No one will know you have it. It is perfect, that as powerful as you are, you become the next Guardian.”

“Guardian?” I hadn’t considered that yet another role in this new life would be to protect a prophecy.

“Yes, I have been the Guardian of the journal, this has been my title. But for some reason this is to be your task now. What I don’t know is why you are to be a Guardian
and
the one we have been waiting for. Perhaps the Seniors will have insight into this.”

I sat back down and placed the box next to me. “Question. If Tomas is… possibly… not to be trusted… why would we ask him?”

He put his hand up. “We’re not. We are secretly meeting with Nicholai beforehand. He agrees that Tomas cannot be trusted, but he does not have enough proof and is not willing to risk the secrecy of the journal to find out.”

I thought about this statement for a minute. “Is that who you called?”

“Yes. He agrees that you are to be the Guardian but is also perplexed by the… well… dual roles. Typically a Guardian is just that. But everything is new to us now, and we may not fully know the reasons for what we are doing… we may not need to know the reasons to move forward. He is very excited to see you.”

He then stood, “Wait… there is something else I have for you.” He opened the right top drawer of his desk and pulled out a small leather box. I set aside the box with the journal as Max handed the smaller box to me, and I looked at it for the longest time. On it were the initials GB. “For your special day.”

I looked up at him, “Special? Wait, who is GB?”

He smiled a very warm smile and whispered, “Your grandfather.”

I looked at the box closely. My maiden name is Alcosta. “This was my mother’s grandfather?”

“No. Why don’t you open the box?” I looked at his face, which appeared quite conflicted, and decided not to press further.

“Okay.” As I opened the box I noticed the lush thick velvet inside. I remembered the same velvet in the box in which Luke had presented my engagement ring. As the box opened completely, I saw a small gold object and focused on it. I had come to know this symbol very well: it was Asclepius’s staff. I pulled it out and noticed it was a pin for a shirt or tie. I looked up at Max. “Okay, what’s going on? Some of my family know about this… they are… were a part of it… but my parents have no idea? This doesn’t make any sense.”

He sighed, “No, I don’t suppose it
would
make any sense. To be honest with you, I wasn’t sure how or when to talk about this, but I suppose now is as good a time as any other.” He walked over to his desk. “Tea?” I motioned no. He poured himself some tea from a plug-in pot, then opened a drawer, pulled out a small flask of alcohol, and poured some into the tea. Looking toward me again he held up the flask, “You sure?”

“I’m sure, thanks,” holding up my bottle of water.

He sat back down, took a few deep breaths and started talking. “Back some years I was a new Aurator. I had just completed one purpose, met my mentor, and had a vision similar to yours, which is how I became the Guardian of the journal. Just like you are now, I was a little overwhelmed with all that was happening in my life and wondering what to expect. My parents were not Aurators, so I had very little guidance from my family. My father’s brother was one of us, and he saw me at Christmas after I completed my first purpose. We stared at each other’s auras. I had never seen a red aura in my family. He worked with me alongside my mentor and taught me all about the Aurators, Asclepius, Hippocrates, and the Caduceus.”

He stopped for a moment and took what I thought was a big drink of his tea, then after a few deep breaths he continued. “I had another vision sometime later with three victims, two adults and one child. I was disturbed by this because I had never had a vision of a child dying. But this vision was confusing because I could not see the child’s face. It was, well, for lack of a better word, blurry. Most faces of victims I had seen were sharp and in focus. It was a week or so after the vision before I could sleep normally again.” He paused with a pensive look on his face.

I didn’t interrupt, even though I had a ton of questions. He took a deep breath. “One night I was out to dinner with my wife.”

Wow, Max is married? I had never considered that and I looked down and noticed the simple gold band on his left ring finger.

“I saw something that amazed and confused me,” he continued. “I saw the people from my dream. My mentor had told me that we usually did not run into the victims, just our purpose. So I sent my wife home in a cab, excusing myself to go back to do some work in the office, and I set off to follow them. As I got closer to them I saw that the woman was pregnant and around her belly was a red aura. I could only extrapolate from my teachings that this meant she was carrying an Aurator.

“I followed them for a while, at a distance. Even though I was, I didn’t want to appear to be stalking them. Just then, a dark figure came out from behind a building and stabbed both adults. I felt as if a bombshell had gone off in front of me… this was not how it was supposed to be. People screamed and ran. Instinctively I lunged for the figure and completed my purpose, but apparently no one saw me because they had run away in fear. I then turned toward the victims… the man was dead. The woman was looking up at me, struggling to breathe… she was obviously bleeding into her airway because there was gurgling when she tried to breathe.

“I dropped down next to her as I started to feel the pain of transformation, but then she reached out and grabbed my arm. My pain stopped and I felt a sudden surge of adrenaline. ‘My baby,’ she tried to say, gasping, ‘you must take my baby, please… for all of us.’ Then her arm dropped and I could see her breathing becoming very irregular.

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