Silent Orchids (The Age of Alandria: Book One) (2 page)

The hood in the center, head already hung with shame, dropped his shoulders, his final stand of pride stripped, wishing for death instead. The purple hood continued, “Do you agree to the conditions of your pardon?”

For the first time, the hood in the circle’s center looked up and spoke. “I do.” As ceremonially required to seal a vow, he squeezed his hand as the others had onto the ground and again onto the rock, adding his stain among those who had stood before him, whether for ritual or retribution, but almost never for a pardon from such a sin. The burden for carrying the knowledge of what he had done would be more than he deserved. He deserved to be sent to Exhile.

“Bring the child,” the dark green hood spoke.

The child, barely old enough to walk, was carried from the forest into the clearing by a young woman. Blue iridescent tears streamed down the woman’s face. She possessively gripped the child, infusing every ounce of love she had to give, hoping that some day the child, though not her own, would understand, and that forgiveness could be found. Reluctantly, she handed the sleeping child to the black hood in the center and looked deep into his eyes. When she was satisfied with what she saw, she gave him a frank nod and ran back into the cover of the forest. 

Awkwardly, the figure in black cradled the child. Looking upon her innocence and frailty, recognizing her as his personal savior, he tenderly stroked a lock of her dark hair aside. Resolved with his mission, he then looked to the green hood, who now stood in front of him and waited.

“You have been given a great gift, but one that will weigh on you for as long as you live,” the green-hooded figure spoke. “Take care of her. She has been marked... the last of
The Orchids
,” he whispered, his voice choked. Lowering his head, he then uttered in that same ancient language, “
Lan du hasen ie.
” 

There was instant darkness. When the flames burst back to life, the black-hooded figure and the small child were gone.

Chapter One

“Oh no! Not again,” she said, gripping her head as the faint buzzing grew louder. She reached out with her other hand, searching for her dresser to steady herself. A flash of white light blinded her to her present surroundings. For the briefest second, she could feel the ghost of a hand grip hers. A man’s hand. It engulfed hers—rough with callouses, but warm, comfortable, and familiar. The slightest increase in pressure from his hand sent waves of calm energy into Kaeleigh before it was released. Then the images began, once again of places she had never been, people she had never seen. They began slowly at first, but sped up like she was zooming in on a particular image.

A never-ending, dense forest. Trunks the width of cars or larger, skyscraper tall as they reached for the sky. Trees of all kinds, some enshrouded with ivy that would consume everything in its path. Ancient. Healthy. Strong. Alive. 

A clearing, lit with shimmering rays from the bright of day sneaking through the canopy of leaves above.

“Look,” the sing-songy voice whispered through her mind, sending shivers down Kaeleigh’s spine. 

An empty clearing no longer empty, but filled with a small gathering. Not people, but a variety of
beings
. Disjointed images flashed from one feature to the next—pointed ears, inhumanly proportionate bodies, features more animal in nature—wings!—beings small and tall, butterflies, dragonflies, and creatures likely from a fairy tale. A man, a
being
, upon which all were focused seemed to be speaking to two other beings—a man and a woman, both smiling. They kissed. There was clapping. Orchids! Orchids blooming all over and out of nowhere, tendrils climbing down from the trees alive with the magic of the moment.

A new image flashed, this time more like a succession of still photographs:

A young man... being. A partial silhouette, though mostly to the back. Tall with hair black as night.
Another image:
his head about to look over his shoulder, but stopped.
Another:
the same man poised with a sword in one hand and a knife in the other.
Another:
a tattoo; a small flower—an orchid.
Another:
a different marking on his wrist—tribal? Another: her hand laced in his. Another: close-up of their hand... his ring
. 

The images of the man flashed over and over again faster and faster until they seemed to move with life of their own, and as he was just about to turn and look back at her, she saw his smirk before she was jerked breathlessly back into her bedroom.

Gripping her dresser so hard her knuckles turned white, Kaeleigh held still, simply breathing for minutes after she regained her bearings. This was nothing new. She had learned to cope with the onslaught of images that randomly assaulted her throughout her life. Still, they always took her breath away. And after each time, her heart broke with such a sense of familiarity and longing for something or someone she had never known. Kaeleigh couldn’t understand her intense reaction or why these episodes happened at all. They just always had. And the orchids! They were always present in some way—just as in her real life. Although lately, the images had started to change. They were becoming more intense, more...
real
. 

This time, she could actually smell the damp moss and fresh cedar fragrance of the forest. She could
feel
the ancient trees and the life energy flowing in them. She could feel his calm, soothing presence, making it all seem
alive
and real, even in the split second she had experienced it all. 

Chapter Two

Without thought, Kaeleigh Johnson clutched the beautiful, smooth honey-gold locket that hung from her neck. It brought her comfort. The necklace was the only thing she had of value, sentimental or otherwise. It was delicate, yet uniquely shaped and the only thing identifying her when she had been brought to the orphanage. The only thing that told her she had belonged to someone; that someone had loved her or cared at least enough to name her. Turning it over between her fingers, she recalled how the many jewelers that she had gone to had never seen anything like it or the material used to forge it. She had hoped to find out where the locket might have come from, but without success. Each jeweler had made offers to purchase it or sell it on consignment, and each time Kaeleigh had sighed. She definitely could have used the cash, but the locket was worth much more than money to her. It was special. She needed special.

It was the shape of an orchid, with two connecting points at a petal’s end. The front was inlaid with a much smaller orchid in a white iridescent material that baffled the jewelers, and on the back, a simple inscription: her name
Kaeleighnna
. No middle initial, no last name, just
Kaeleighnna
. It was the foster agency that had given her the last name Johnson. The interior wasn’t hollowed out for pictures, but simply flat and smooth with two foreign symbols etched into the locket. Years of searching had yielded no information to tell her what the symbols meant, if anything at all. They were important though; she just
knew
it! Kaeleigh could feel a faint resonance of heat and slight vibrations of energy sometimes, either through her hands as she held it, or against the skin of her chest where it rested. It wasn’t just another piece of jewelry; it identified her, had become a part of her. She always wore it around her neck or stored it in a secret place where she kept special items locked up; an old habit from living with people she didn’t trust, people that had no respect for her or her property.

Growing up “in the system,” she had lived with several different foster families. Some were all right and some made it obvious they were just in it for the monthly check. And then there were some that she had no other choice but to run away from. No matter how bad it got, there always seemed to be that constant reminder—in the form of a simple orchid—that she once had a family out there and that she was not alone. Sometimes it was a comfort; sometimes a guide that seemed to confirm her path. Other times it taunted her, a silent reminder of what she didn’t have... family, people that called her their own, a place she belonged. At times an orchid showed up randomly, for seemingly no reason at all. Other orchid appearances were more significant, as if someone knew just when she needed guidance or encouragement.  

Like today, the single-stemmed orchid in a small but beautifully ornate antiqued pot appeared out of nowhere onto her dresser. She knew that things like that didn’t just
appear
, at least not to normal people. But Kaeleigh had never been normal and things like that didn’t bother her. It had to be a message, especially after one of the flashes like she just had. 

Her friends, Chel and Finn, wanted to have a party for her, but Kaeleigh didn’t feel like celebrating. She felt raw and empty, like part of her was missing. Other than her “episodes,” there wasn’t anything significant about her, nor any great meaning to her daily life. Kaeleigh simply existed. However, deep down she wanted to believe the orchid on her dresser was significant. After all, she was eighteen today. 

In reality, it was just another day. She would go to her new job at the restaurant down the street to see if it could possibly be the job she was looking for. It didn’t matter that this was her fourth job in the last several months. 

Did it?
 

Or even that before this one, she had multiple kinds of jobs in the last couple of years varying from fast food to front desk office work to holding signs waving at cars on street corners. 

I mean, how am I supposed to figure out what I want to do if I don’t try different things, right?

She just wasn’t sure what she was looking for and so far hadn’t found it. 

Maybe today. One can only hope.
 

She liked food and she liked people, so why not? Maybe going from home to home, being a bit unstable growing up, had influenced her more than she realized. Maybe she was now noticing the effects it had had: not really knowing who she was or where she came from or where she was going in life. 

Too deep for today.
 

Rolling her eyes at her introspection, she stretched her arms toward the ceiling, shrugging her shoulders back and forth and jumping up and down as if she was about to face the fight of her life. Sighing, she resolved it was time to get dressed. A new job with new possibilities awaited her. Today would be a good day.

After her long, soothing shower, Kaeleigh quickly got ready, putting on the required black slacks, black shoes, and black button-up blouse that Antonia’s, the restaurant and her new employer, had given her to wear. The all black was very different from what she would have chosen to wear. Kaeleigh loved color...all colors. She even craved color. Some days she would
feel
certain colors for the day and had to wear them together even if they didn’t match. She felt the colors impacted her day. In turn, Kaeleigh felt they impacted others’ perspectives and moods, bringing at least a smile or even a giggle from those around her. She didn’t care what other people thought about how she looked because
she
liked how she felt and that seemed important. Plus, it was fun to watch the expressions on the faces of strangers, more than once wishing she had a camera phone and not her old piece of junk that hardly worked. 

Kaeleigh often had impulses to dye her hair with the different colors, but she loved her rich blackish-brown hair with red highlights streaked throughout—completely natural— so she refrained most of the time. Every once in a while, though, she would use those temporary dyes that squeeze into your hair like a paintbrush with colors like pink, purple, and blue. She even added green once, which she surprisingly loved. Recently, she learned that she could use chalk, which intrigued her as it was cheap and seemed easier to clean.

Her hair had loose, unruly curls that reached her lower back when left down. She had moments of “hair hatred,” as Chel called it, just like any girl, but mostly she thought her hair rocked! The different stylists she had gone to for hair cuts were always shocked that she didn’t do anything to maintain her color. It apparently wasn’t something “normal,” as they told her. She’d always been able to wave them off, assuming that they of course just meant
natural
, but the last stylist she had gone to made a little too big of a deal about it and caused a scene. She had walked out with a not-so-polite hand gesture before she had broken down in tears, feeling, not for the first time, like a freak. Chel’s mom began cutting her hair not long after that.

With time for a quick pause on her way out the door, she looked briefly in the mirror to make sure everything was in its proper place. The black shirt was a little big on her slender frame but not too bad; maybe if she had more going for her in the chest department she could have filled it out. Even puffing up her chest didn’t help. She wasn’t flat, but she definitely wasn’t curvaceous. Chel, on the other hand—that girl had some curves and she knew how to accentuate them. According to a body type quiz in one of the fashion magazines, Kaeleigh had an “athletic build.” At least the pants fit well. It would have really sucked yanking her pants up constantly trying to serve food. Not the first impression she wanted to leave. The attributes that she felt she had “going for” her were her creamy complexion and deep emerald-green eyes that could be a bit eerie looking if her mood went bad. Overall, she wasn’t complaining. Kaeleigh smiled, grabbed her bag along with a bagel for the road, and headed out the door.  

Living on the third floor of the old brick Altadena apartment building, which the girls had affectionately named “Old Dena,” wasn’t so bad. They liked to say that they lived in one of those old brick buildings with the newly renovated apartments in the more eclectic art district—minus the renovations and the eclectic art. Instead, it was just an old brick building with old apartments in a somewhat decent neighborhood just outside the art district near the college. But it was affordable and not too far a walk from her new job so she wasn’t complaining. Plus, her two best friends lived in the same area.