Authors Note: This is my first proper story (I don’t think that primary school counts) so please feel free to post comments, I will try and read them and reply. I can’t think of a name so if you would like, could you post your ideas! The writing in the italics is visions, flashbacks, or dreams. And I mean no offence to any one in Thailand. This is part dream, so who am I to mess with fate!! Enjoy!!
Chapter One- Revelations
Everyone has a past. They are all different, like a fingerprint, but that is what makes us unique. Some people hide from their past, ashamed or disappointed about it. Some people embrace theirs, proud or pleased. But there are some who don’t know theirs, it is a mystery, a ghost that haunts them, something they may never know. I am one of those people, I have no idea who my real parents are or what I had been doing for three years before I was found. I have memories and dreams of people and places that I cannot file in my mind. I thought it all to be logical almost like it came with the territory of being unique until my 15th birthday…
“Isabella, darling. Wake up, it’s your birthday”. Shake, shake. “You have ten minutes before I come back up to get you up”. Why was it so important for my mother to wake me so early, it was my birthday and I wanted to sleep in. But I knew if I didn’t get up she would resort to tickling me. Slowly I rolled out of bed and grabbed my silk kimono and wrapped it around me. I could see thin threads of golden light peeping through the blinds before I pulled them up to release the beautiful sun into my spacious room. I knelt down at my altar and gave a quick prayer for all the things I had. Looking around I knew that I did have everything to be grateful for. My room was at the top of our house, which meant I had a view of everything. The beaches to the East and the forests to the West. When I had turned 13 I had insisted on decorated my room myself. I did it from the memories of places from my mind and dreams. There was silk draping from the ceiling, to give it an airy feeling, and dressers made of a dark wood engraved with silver writing. Different shaped candles were arranged throughout my room along with the various forms of art on my walls. My parents were extremely rich and posh, so I got anything that I could ever want. By no means was I snobby, I was just thankful for what I had. “That’s it, here I come,” Mom hollered up the stairs. “Too late” I yelled back, “I’m already up and, by the gods, it’s a beautiful day”. She reached the top of the stairs and started waving her perfectly manicured nails around excitedly. “Guess what, darling,” she said, “We are going out for breakfast to Imbibe, so get some nice clothes on, you can’t go out in that”. I promised to be downstairs in ten minutes, to prevent her from going through my clothes to pick them out for me. I don’t know why she was excited, we went there often. It was an expensive, high profile place so I put on my favourite black halter-necked, knee-high dress, some strappy black heals and a fake fur wrap. I ran down stairs excitedly, thinking my parents have something important to tell me. When I got outside, my parents were already in the Ferrari so jumped in the back and felt the wind run through my hair as I busied my mind with the make-up I was putting on. “So why did you have to get me up so early on my birthday for?” I inquired, still a little bit sleepy. “You’ll find out,” Mom said mysteriously. When we arrived at Imbibe and had ordered our breakfast both Mom and Dad went quiet. I had assumed that they wanted to tell me something but I had no idea what but I had no idea how do start them off. Sipping on my orange juice, I sat there awkwardly, waiting for someone to say something.
“Isabella, we brought you here to tell you something” Dad finally said slowly, “We want you to remember that we always love you, no matter what”. “What is this about? I know you didn’t bring me here to tell me you love me. What is it you want to tell me?” I asked nervously. Long pause. “We are not your real parents” Mom managed to stutter out, “We found you in the forest near the Ngamawahine River about 12 years ago while your father and I were bush walking. We heard a baby-like cry near the riverbank and we decided to investigate. That’s when we found you, lying in a blanket. We could find no-one I the area so we picked you up, took you to the police, adopted you and you became out daughter”. I sat there stunned and speechless. A million things were running through my mind. Who were my real parents? Why did they leave me? What about the memories I have? Are they related? “So do you know who my real parents are then?” I asked timidly. “Do you remember reading about the incident with the mysterious females near the Ngamawahine River? About the two maidens, I feel is the only correct term for them, were found wandering along the banks of Ngamawahine? They were there the same time we found you. We attempted to find them because we thought there might be a connection but when our search party sighted them and called out, they disappeared in front of our eyes. We don’t have any other leads though but we did try because we knew this day would come”. “So what now?” I asked, almost not wanting to know the answer. Mom lifted a bag that I hadn’t noticed, onto the table and opened it slowly. She pulled out a parcel wrapped, in a different-feeling greeny-silver material. Dad unfolded this beautiful material and pulled out a ring, a crown and a piece of old-looking paper. The ring, which was made of a strange-looking silver, had a star-shaped flower and two leafs designed on the top of it. The flower had purple stones, like amethysts, in it and the leafs had green gem veins. On the inside of the ring band, an inscription of unusual characters was engraved it. The crown was made of five strands of the strange silver entwined together. There were three large star-flowers and their leafs set on the front strands and a purple jewel draping at the back. The jewel was a quite big, well cut amethyst with a silver band on the top of it. It had the same engraving on it as the ring had inside it. But the paper was the strangest by far. It was in a language and writing I had never seen before, the parchment was old and there was an emblem in the corner of the page. After looking closer I realised that is was the same thing as what was on the jewellery, three beautiful star-flowers, their leafs and the strange characters. “These items were the only things that were with you when we found you,” Mum explained, “We have attempted to find out what the writing says but no-one can read it”. I lifted my eyebrows, surprised, because I had never seen it before but had done some study on nearly every language that was or is known to man. “We did find out, however, that is it a fictional language called Elvish,” continued Mom, “written by a man called Tolkien. He wrote books about fantasy creatures like Elves and Dragons and he created many languages to go with them.”. “What?”, I cried. “You have to be joking. My only clues to who I am and they are fictional. Do you know I am going to see a movie based on his books in a weeks time?”. I sat back in my seat hopelessly and closed my eyes, feeling the tears coming to the surface. So many things at once…
I sat up on my bed and felt that my face and eyes were wet. I was crying something I had not done since I that morning that changed my life. I was a lot older now, turning 20 in a weeks time. I had moved out of home and was living with my boyfriend of two years. My parents and I still saw each other often although I live in a different town. My studies with Wicca have not creased if anything I study even more but without my boyfriends knowledge. There are some things, some powers, which people do not understand. Since my 15th birthday I had learned new skills, I had acquired new gifts. I had the gift of foresight, reading peoples minds and placing thoughts in their minds, like talking to them without hearing. I had fine-tuned my abilities to control and manipulated fire, water and air. I had learnt Elvish and studied Tolkien’s work with almost as much dedication as I had to my Wiccan studies, hoping to find something of my past. I did end up going to see the movie but it meant very little to me.
My life was good. I was a highly-regarded journalist who got to travel around the world. I investigated things that other people were too scared to do because it was too dangerous. I loved the thrill but in order to keep the job I had to learn how to fight. I was lucky, I had some of the best fighters from around the world teaching me. My skills became so perfect that I could pick up any weapon and wield it well. My twin knives were my favourite weapons, which were given to me by a knife-fighter I spend a lot of time with when I went to South America.
Although I had a good life, I still searched for a deeper meaning. I had doubts about its path and where it would lead. My next assignment for my job was to investigate the highly escalated gang warfare in Bangkok, Thailand. So two days before my birthday I flew out and two days later I sent my story back home. My boss was impressed and knew that I was working on my birthday, so he suggested that I stay in Chiang Mai, a beautiful place in Thailand for a holiday, all expenses paid. In my mind I saw this as the perfect chance to really relax but fate had other plans for me…
“Look.. if you had.. one shot, or one opportunity. To seize everything you ever wanted.. in one moment. Would you capture it.. or just let it slip? Yo..”
Eminem, Lose Yourself