Realm Komiks Prequel: Chapter 24: Solutions

Chapter 24:

SOLUTIONS

The middle aged woman stands in her kitchen preparing dinner. The air condition blast through vents, keeping her cool from the steam boiling off the stove. Her small television yacks in the background as she finely chops carrots against the wooden cutting board.

“Australian Woman, Georgia Lane claims she’d been attacked by crocodile men…” the television blares, beginning the news story.

She brushes her eyes toward the TV shaking her head, “Crazy people in this world.” Carrying the cutting board over to the boiling water she pushes it in with the knife. Grabbing another carrot she walks back to the counter.

The television rattles on, as she ignores the words, only enjoying the background noise. “Where’s the onion?” she ask herself, searching the refrigerator.  “Ah.” She grabs the red orb, taking it to the sink and running it under the water. The bright sun peers through the trees into her backyard. She turns off the water shaking the droplets off her hands and takes it to the cutting board.  She glares back up at the television now showing a rundown of the baseball scores, “Just show Devils Rays.” She pauses. The television rambles and finally gives the score of Tampa Bay, she smirks, “That’s my boys.” She dances over to the pot, now pushing the carrots and onion into the bubbling water.

“Alligator meat, you’re next,” she opens the fridge pulling out a perfectly wrapped aluminum foil package and shutting the fridge with her rear end.

Walking past to the window toward the counter, she pauses, taking a step backward and slowly turning her to the window.  A bare alligator stands, pressing its u shaped nostril against the window. The woman gasp, the foil meeting the linoleum flooring.

Fog presses against the glass, its nostrils resting on it, parting its pointed teeth. “Get back!” the woman shouts holding the knife in front of her. The alligator walks to the back door, pulling on the knob. The woman screams racing for the front door, she swings open the door, her knees deadlock…two alligators standing in the front yard turn toward her…

*******

Bruinen wraps his fingers between Nawfar’s, petite hands, squeezing lightly, the multitude of screens roaring in front of him. He has never felt so vulnerable, watching his Planeteers friends across the screen. They have never been on one planet all together, yet so far away. Earth’s division makes him more unsettled in this moment, than he has felt for a long time.

“We’ve had attacks now, in Florida. Not only sightings, but actual attacks. One woman dead, two men injured. People are being evacuated from the area.” Cromwell stands from his chair, tilting his head toward the screen, sounding genuinely distressed. “What the hell is going on here?”

His eyes shift subtly onto Bruinen and Nawfar, as if they know something more than what they are leading on.

Voices begin to speak on the screens from behind them, the room now ignoring it as the fall into their own conversation. “Listen to Czar Umberto and Herminia,” Bruinen suggest nodding toward the screen, “They know the Surraja Planet, more than any of us.”

Cromwell turns his attention back at the screens, United Nations listening intently as he has the attention of everyone now.

“It is possible that Sultana would have Poisonous Dart join her, a diversion, she can then swiftly move her plans.” Umberto wonders.

“Would that not be risky for Dart, considering her brother would surely try to take over their planet?” his counterpart, Herminia questions rhetorically.  

Umberto taking a brief moment to answer, confidently chimes, “An attractive exchange she cannot resist…”

“How do we find this Poisonous Dart?” the English Queen intercepts.

Rhian, from the Scylitan Planet shares her thoughts, “She’d likely to be hidden a place with many reptiles. A small area. One easy to control...”

Herminia continues her thought process, “An area she can practice her magic, gathering her strength from the area reptiles. She uses mind control effectively when given the proper resources.”

“Perhaps, in our country? The rain forest?” Marina Rocha suggests.

The United Nations intervene, after the idea is presented. “You send armies to these areas? Search for this Poisonous Dart?”  Seo-Jun Quon suggests.

“Brazil will make contact with all location immediately.” Marina Rocha nods. “We will advise every civilian immediately to report anything of suspicion.”

“I suggest we continue to work together of other possible locations.” Andre’ Roux nods toward Father Onfre who sits quiet.

“Agree.” The United Nations and Planeteers nod in agreement through the screens.

Cromwell walks toward Bruinen and Nawfar, “I’d like to know directly, from you, any suggestions?  Would you approach anything differently?”

Bruinen thinks for a moment, sharing a glance with Nawfar and scanning the room at the other Americans sitting around the table, keeping their opinions to themselves.

“I’d like to contact Tsunami. She is a fast reader. Extremely fast.  I’d like her to research our library and possibly an Earth one.” Bruinen decides.

Nawfar nods, “If anyone can figure out where Poisonous Dart is hiding, with haste, I guarantee this woman will find the information needed.”

“Okay, then. Mr. Watson, get Tsunami on the screen?” Cromwell agrees.

*******

Margret leans into the winged creature, stroking the velvet nape of his neck, its horn across her shoulder, pressing his head against her arm. She pats the nape of his neck, resting her cheek on his muzzle briefly before feeding him more lavender treats. “Why I’m so worried you will become a regular horse, must be silly to you.”

Opal snorts, grasping the morsels with his tongue. Colm gallops in behind them on Nacreous, hopping off as he nears Margret, grapping her into his arms and kissing her. She lets out a tiny high pitched screech, unexpected of his embrace.

Nacreous whinnies, nuzzling into Opal. “I told you not to take her out. What if someone saw you?”

“Winged creatures are everywhere on their radar right now, they aren’t going to shoot any of us down.” Colm smirks leaning in for another kiss.

“It’s not just the government…” she sighs.

“Oh, yes! The Earthlings and flying horses, what are they do think?” Colm taunts, “Nacreous needed to stretch her wings. Hasn’t Opal shown such needs?”

“Not that he’s led on,” she kisses the steeds muzzle as his head rises to her.

Colm shakes his head, walking her away, “He does it for you, not himself.”

“What?” she doubts.

“Opal knows you can’t handle the stress. You should let him ride free, us all together.” Colm suggest.

Margret stops, her head falling over her shoulder, observing Opal nuzzling into Nacreous.

“He’s okay; I’m just making a suggestion.” Colm explains.

Margret continues to walk, “You weren’t making suggestions, Colm. You are letting me know what I’m doing wrong.”

“I wouldn’t say wrong…” Colm tries to speak but she cuts him off.

“No, it’s okay. You’re right. You told me all the unipegs on Earth turned to horses and I can’t get that out of my head. Opal grabs a blade of grass; I give him ten more spheres of Cepaen cuisine. I’m so confused. I feel like my reality is obscured.” Margret’s eyes shift as she tries to comprehend the amount of her emotional anguish she just unleashed on Colm, in a few sentences. Embarrassed she continues, not making eye contact while he strokes her hand in comfort, “This has all been a lot. And then the visions… I’m afraid; I’m afraid that I’m afraid.”

‘We will get through all this together, I’m here.’  His thoughts try to lay a calming cloud on her mind.

“Don’t do that.” She sharply interrupts, “Don’t do the calming mind thing. Not here. It makes me feel even crazier. It’s like Cepaen Prozac, or something.”

Colm clutches her cheek in his hand, stroking her jaw with his thumb, “We will get through this together. I’m here.” He repeats verbally, his lips touching her forehead before his hand finds hers, walking forward. “Obviously I do not have the human emotions you have, but it does not mean I do not understand. We are intertwined, soulmates, I feel so much of what you feel.”

She pauses, turning toward him, “Colm, you feel nothing of what I feel, and understand little… when you cannot fully feel my pain.”

“I sense it. I know of it.” He tries to remind her.

“But you do not feel it.” She lets go of him turning away, walking alone.

He processes her words for a moment, and then begins toward her, stopped by Natika, “Colm, a moment? There is someone I’d love for you to meet. A delightful individual.”

“I…uh…” Colm stutters, trying to makes sense of what just took place between him and Margret, her body slinking away to a group of soldiers, her rear finding a seat next to the crackling fire. “Yes, sure.” He nods, Natika already having their arms interlocked, tugging him in her direction.

******

Margret coyly pears over her shoulder, searching for Colm. “Margret,” The handsome solider addresses, taking the empty seat.

She snaps her head toward him, and forces a smile, “It is. And you are…Oh, I’m sorry, I’m horrible with names.”

“Lucas.” He gently reminds her.

“Yes, Lucas.” She smiles. “Our tour guide of Metz. I didn’t forget you, really, just names… I’m horrible…” she bashfully tries to explain.

“It’s okay,” he chuckles.

“It’s not, it’s really not. I need to take on one of those tricks, to remember everyone. I’ve been introduced to so many people over the last weeks my brain is finally like…” she points her finger, slowly drooping it, adding a sizzling sound effect, “It doesn’t want to take on anymore.”

Lucas’ hand subtly hides his lips as to keep him from bursting into laughter. Margret’s eyes observe her drooping finger; “That appeared phallic, didn’t it?” she blushes shoving her hand under her leg.

“A gentleman wouldn’t comment on such a statement.” He smirks, his dimple pressing against his cheek.

“Lucas.” She reminds herself. “Lucas, what brings you to the fire?”

“Actually, I approached because you sat here. The beacon against your skin.” His tone becomes even and smooth.

“Oh… I uh…” she stammers trying to find words.

He nervously snickers, “I apologize if I overstep. You are with the man, from the Cepae Planet?”

“I...uh…” she struggles to answer at first, “Well, I am. I guess. Yes.”

“Doesn’t sound completely convincing.” Lucas titters, “A courtship that is perhaps questionable?”

“Not at all.” She quickly tries to correct, “He is just so sure. I mean so sure. Like, SO SURE. And I, I… I don’t understand how someone can be that sure.  How do you know? How can anyone, I don’t care what planet you are from, be that sure, when you barely know someone. Does that even really happen?”

Her head shakes trying to understand as she ask the questions out loud, suddenly realizing the flake she must be perceived to be to the handsome Franco-German Brigade soldier.

“Sorry, ridiculous. I’m just thinking out loud.”  She quickly spouts, apologizing for her words.

“Oh, please, do not be apologetic,” he lightens the air, “He’s from another planet, has different customs.” He simply smiles.

Her head flings behind her, finding him engaging in conversation with a clingy Natika and another Franco-German solider, obviously fawning over Natika’s beauty.

“Exactly.” She turns toward Lucas. “Nailed it.”

“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t familiar with women and their different customs. Europe can be full of them.” He winks and her heart involuntarily flutters.

Margret finds a giggle, “Lucas, can you imagine a world with no jealousy? No anger? No resentment? Not one droplet of negative emotion to blacken your soul?”

Lucas thinks for a moment, “A Utopia. A heaven. I can imagine it, yet I can’t believe it would ever exist in life.”

Margret sighs, “You are walking among those who make it exists.”

“The Cepaen?” Lucas’ eyes burrow in his head, him trying to understand.

“Me, among them, it is like a black sheep among a perfect flock of white, silken wool, sheep.” Her eyes unexpectedly cloud, “And they are so perfect, not one of them acknowledges the skepticism, of what could happen, with me around.”

“Perhaps, you are more perfect than you realize, and they are not blinded, but you fail to see in yourself what others see in you.” Lucas leans toward her.

“Precisely.”  The even voice says from behind them.

Margret’s rear end quickly lifts off the seat, standing before Colm, “I uh…” she tries as if she is guilty.

Lucas stands behind her, “Lucas.” He extends his hand toward Colm.

Colm, knowing the custom, without hesitation returns the gesture, “Colm.” He smiles.

“Colm.” Lucas hangs on his name for a moment, “Colm, you are a genuinely blessed man. I appreciate Margret’s company, thank you for sharing her with me.”

“Her company is hers to share alone, but in the same, thank you for recognizing our souls as mates, very galactic of you.”  Colm beams gracefully.

Lucas cheeky glances at Margret whom shrugs, then continuing with Colm, “My pleasure.” Lucas gives a slightly taunting bow and one last humorous glance at Margret before walking away.

Margret shakes her head at Colm with disbelief, “Have you no inkling of jealously?”

“Of what it is or the feeling of it?” he teases.

“The feeling.” She boasts.

“That I do.” He grins smug.

“Really?” dumbfounded, her voice hits an extra octave.

“Of course,” he agrees, “It’s that feeling you get when you see Natika and I together, engaging.”

Her fist spontaneously hits against his chest as her head falls flat against him, “Uh, you are annoyingly perfect.”  She lifts her head, tilting it toward his chin, “But you do know he is totally into me, right? Lucas is flirting with me. He wants me.”  She playfully pokes, “And if it weren’t for you, I’d totally let him have me, you know that, right?”

Colm pulls her far enough away to gaze in her eyes. “Is this banter supposed to make a man jealous?”

“It most certainly is.” She confirms.

“May, I take you and make sweet love to you instead?” his hand wisp across her cheek, gently, softly crawling to the arch of her back, trailing down her spine, “I’d like to kiss you, everywhere.”

Her eyes flutter from his touch, the chill slowly creeping up her spine as his tips caress her skin, “In the tent. I don’t want to look week among fellow soldiers.”

His lip folds upward, “I’d like to laugh at your assessment…”he grasp her hand pulling her toward the tent, Margret trying to find eyes on them, but finally only noticing one pair, Lucas’.

Colm closes the tent flaps behind them, her ears suddenly between his palms as he presses his lips hard against hers, their tongues intertwining, his soul grasping for hers - Margret’s mind quickly trying to catch up with what is happening with their bodies. With their souls.

There.

Here.

 Engaged.

Together, inside and out, now tearing at one other’s clothes, desperate to join their naked bodies.

******

Tsunami grabs at the cell phone, it ringing across the room, the facetime flashing across the screen. She tries to adjust her eyes, letting her fingertip swipe the green button.

Bruinen and Nawfar come across the screen, looking as if two parents, checking in on their child.

“Tsunami?” Nawfar ask, trying to make sense of her flattened hair and smeared dressings.

“Huh?” Tsunami tries to focus.

“Where’s Kae?” Bruinen ask.

“Over here.” Kae moans from across the room.

****

Bruinen looks down at the phone, noticing Tsunami’s face plastered against five other screens, “Can’t you shut those down?” he snaps.

“They’re connected,” Mr. Watson tries to explain.

“What is wrong with you?” Nawfar struggles to understand, “Are you hurt?”

“My head is pounding.” Tsunami stresses, “Is it huge? It feels huge.”

“The appearance is as always Tsunami. Do you need medical attention? Are you and Kae in danger?” Nawfar concern, guesses.

“They look hung over, sir,” Mr. Watson tries to lean into Cromwell, discreetly, but Bruinen sharply turns his head eyeing them.

“I don’t think so.” Tsunami groans, “It must be this Earth air, having a strange effect on our health…”

“Ask, them if they had anything to drink last night, other than water.” Cromwell embarrassingly request.

Bruinen pauses, annoyed.

Cromwell sighs, “Please just ask.” 

“Have you had anything peculiar to drink?” Nawfar intercepts, not waiting on Bruinen.

“Just some Earth drinks. The water and uh… the pink stuff with all that floating Earth plant and some fancy garnish, maybe… perhaps.” Tsunami tries to remember.

“It had frozen water in it too.” Kae chimes from across the room; body sprawled out on a bed, “Frozen water, in a drink. In a pink drink. It was…. Beautiful.”

“It really was.” Tsunami agrees trying to keep her eyes open. “Tart but delicious.”

“What happened to them?” to Nawfar stands.

Cromwell’s eyes roll, “Please, Sovereign Nawfar, they consumed alcohol. In small doses it is harmless and in tad larger doses, it can cause what we call a hangover. An after effect of the alcohol on the body.”

Mr. Watson covers his mouth, pulling at his cheek trying not to laugh, along with the other presidential advisories in the room.

“This is not a joke.” Bruinen angrily confirms.

“We take it serious.” Cromwell agrees, scolding his team with his shifting eyes. “It is a… flaw that happens to the best of our people, on Earth, sometimes. Almost any country, actually. There is nothing to be embarrassed of or angry about it. It was merely a misunderstanding.”  The president turns to his assistant, “Can you assure they get their hands on a lot of Gatorade and perhaps some greasy food.”

“Of, course, Mr. President,” Watson nods quickly leaving with the room, breaking into a small laughter when he gets to the hallway.

“Give it about six hours; I can assure you they will be okay. Until then,” Cromwell addresses the staff, “Let us get a hold of our top scientist and researches. I want ongoing ideas thrown at me until my body is bruised.”

Bruinen gazes at the phone in disappointment, “They will have someone there to reintroduce you to your proper health and structure.”

“Okay.” Tsunami closes her eyes against the phone. “Sounds great”

“Tsunami.” Nawfar snaps, causing the teenager to try and focus, “I expect more. Read up on customs.” She hangs up the device, hitting it against the table. “We need an outlet to relax.” She demands standing from the table, already making her way toward the door.

Bruinen nods, gently pushing in his chair and waiting for the President to join him.

“I will travel to Bahamas.”

Nawfar over hears and quickly rises, “Bruinen.” She gently protests.

“You are perfectly capable of making the decisions here. Tsunami and Kae are young and naive. They need direction.” Bruinen reminds her.

Nawfar sighs, “I want to disagree. I cannot.”

Bruinen toward Cromwell, “It is decided then. Nawfar will make the choices needed, here. I will join Tsunami and Kae until they prove things differently.”

Cromwell nods, “Okay then.” He turns toward another man in the room, “Arrange this please.”

“Yes, Mr. President.” The man agrees.

Bruinen turns to Nawfar, “We will still continue strong communication.”

“As always.” She agrees. “I will walk along side of you soon.”

“Until then.” He kisses her small forehead before heading out.

“Nawfar, would you like to join me in meeting with a few of our top researches?” Cromwell urges.

She subtly nods, “Yes, I would.”

*******

Raging fire screams over bodies as chaos unceasing to fold. Gun fire ricochets, one bullet grazing past Margret’s arm, ripping at her flesh, she winces in pain, pausing her to catch a glimpse of Zulima, a fanged man flinging himself toward the space Zulima occupies.

“Zulima!” Margret screams out.

Seconds too late, Zulima is tackled by the creature….

******

“Margret. Margret.”

Her name pulls her from the war, slowly to conscience now filling the images with empty darkness, light now pressing against her eyelids…

“Margret.” It’s Colm’s soft whisper against her ear, his hand gently tugging on her arm to wake.

She flings her eyes open and quickly sits up, relief that her surroundings are of the inside of the mundane tent they reside in.

“Somethings going on outside.” He immediately informs her, already dressed. He shoves her clothes into her arms, “Get dressed. We need to explore this matter.”

She nods, mundanely, snugging her body into her tank and leggings, still recovering from the dream she was left with.  

She slides on her boots and searches for Colm, standing by door of the tent he waits patiently for her, extending his hand towards her, she grasp it and he pulls her out into the fresh air.

Soldiers of the Franco-German Brigade and Cepaen Planet surround one area. The rest of the camp is vacant, the crowd is hard to see over, and a few of the Cepae warriors flap slightly above in the air, to get a better view. “What is it?” Margret leans into Colm.

He gives her the obvious answer, just arriving with her, “I have no idea.” 

“Do you see Zulima?” her tiptoes slightly rise, her neck extending.

“I don’t.” Colm begins pulling her back as the crowd backs away, in order of Commander DuPont, asking everyone to step back.

“I understand, we are curious,” he shouts in a powerful and commanding tone, “We have some choices to make. I will be willing to hear rational thoughts when the time comes, but as your commanding officer, along with Zulima and Zagzagel, we need the space and respect to find the best solution amongst one another.”

Margret observes as soldiers from both sides nod their heads in agreement and understanding, leaving a gap wide enough for Margret to now catch a glimpse of Commander DuPont, Zulima and Zagzagel standing above a woman’s body, it curled into a fetal position.

Margret spots Lucas through the crowd and tugs on Colm, ‘Follow me’ without hesitation he allows Margret to guide them toward Lucas. “Hey.” She approaches.

Lucas’ head swings towards her and he gives a wispy smile, ignoring Colm on her hand, “Hello beautiful, half breed.” He winks.

Pretending to not notice his flirtation, “What is going on? Who is that woman?”

He leans into her ear, “It’s a vampire.”

Margret tilts her head concerning at Colm, “A vampire?” she slightly gasp with a whisper.

Lucas, hearing her, turns, noticing she is speaking with Colm. “Oh, hello, fellow.” He smirks.

“Where is my Margret?” she hears Zulima’s soft voice struggling to echo through the crowd.

“I think she’s calling you.” Lucas gently pats Margret’s shoulder.

“Zulima, needs you.” Colm tugs at Margret’s hand almost simultaneously.

Colm tries to pull Margret pass the mob while Commander DuPont backs up Zulima with a louder announcement, “Please let Zulima’s Margret past!”

Slowly the crowd becomes more aware of their passing, allowing an easier access for them to get through. Zulima lays eyes on her, almost with a sigh of relief, pulling her from Colm’s grasp and hugging her. “Where have you been?” she questions, as if she were meant to be by her side all along.  

“It’s one of Sultana’s vampires,” Zulima states nodding toward the woman, Margret now has the chance to observe every detail on her.

The woman looks starved, her long red hair drapes over her bony cheek bones, body thin, knees pulled tightly into her chest. “Is she dead?” Margret asks.

Zulima’s shakes her head.

“She is not,” Zagzagel chimes in.

“Should we try to heal her?” Zulima questions as if Margret knows the answer.

“I….” Margret stumbles on her words, awkwardly dragging her eyes across the crowd whom wait for an answer.

“We have a few ways of approaching this situation.” DuPont chimes in, “We kill it, and give it a quick death or We let it hang on to what life is left, and if it wakes we try to get information from it.”

“Or we heal her,” Zulima adds catching Colm’s glimpse.

“If she is well she can lead us to Sultana’s choice of residence. Ending all this quickly.” Zagzagel finishes.

“Or it has its strength back and decides to blood suck us all to death.” Commander DuPont gives the final detail is a slight humorous undertone.

“I….a….” Margret’s lips tighten as the bottom lip quickly hides behind her tooth.  She takes a deep breath, meeting Colm’s chiseled face. ‘Why are they asking me?’

‘Your gift,’ he reminds her.

She shrugs her shoulders with frustration and turns to Zulima, “I don’t think I should be making this decision.” She tries to whispers.

“What do you feel?” Zulima ask her. “What do you sense?”

“I sense that I am not God and no life, vampire or anything else, should be a choice of mine, if they live or die.” Margret searches for Colm’s hand for comfort.

“With all due, respect, Margret, this is a war. These tough decisions have to be made every day on the battle front. I suggest you best prepare yourself for the worse case scenarios. All of you!” he addresses the murmuring crowd for moment, “Now, Zulima says you have some gift of insight. If you do not have this insight then we need to move forward in our decisions.”

Commander DuPont meets Zagzagel, “Warrior to warrior, respectfully, I feel we should destroy it. If it gets the strength to feed, it is a danger to us all. It might be week during the day and gain strength at night. Take out a great part of our camp and us. We may never have the chance to meet up with the others before the battle really begins.”

Zulima stands between the two men, “Perhaps, we should wait to see what the United Nations and Planeteers leaders, decide. We can give them before night fall.”

Margret’s head starts to spin, their words now echoing between her ears, becoming fainter, another voice deep in her mind grows louder.

“Stop!” Margret shouts.

The crowd silences and Margret’s eyes begin to focus, feeling uncomfortable with the stares. Her eyes meet Zulima, the commander and Zagzagel, her hand tightens against Colm’s palm. “We don’t have until night. She will die by then.”

“She spoke to you?” Zulima hesitantly wonders, mystified and almost horrified at the same time.

“I ugh…” Margret searches for the correct answer.

‘She is of darkness, Margret. Can you tap into darkness too?’ Colm’s thoughts press against hers.

Margret pulls her hand from Colm’s, covering her eyes with her palms, allowing her fingers to pull the eyelids to her temples, trying to refocus. “I don’t know if she spoke to me. But I feel I know that if we don’t save her now, she’s not living until tonight. And I feel we should really save her now, if you are capable of saving a creature of darkness.” She chooses her words carefully, grabbing a deep breath of air, anxiously awaiting Zulima’s answer.

“We heal her then.” Zulima answers with an ounce of hesitation.

“We are going to heal this vampire, based on a feeling?” The commander questions.

“Yes.” Zulima nods, now with more certainty.

Commander DuPont touches eyes with Zagzagel who gives a reassuring nod. “Let us be prepared then.” He gives his approval.  DuPont turns, searching the crowd, “Deputy Boyer!” he calls out to a man.

“General.” Lucas Boyer reports to the front.

“Arm our men appropriately. Prepare for the kill if needed.” He instructs.

“Yes, sir.” Lucas nods. “You heard him,” he now shouts to the other men, leading them away.

Zagzagel finds Harahel and with a slight hand gesture all the winged forces are armed with swords and bow and arrows, as if magically appearing in their hands.

DuPont smirks toward Zagzagel, “You’d perhaps humor me and the rest of the united nations with your light weight traveling weapons.”

Zagzagel, grunts with a twisted grin, “That’s a Planeteers matter.”

“I envy the weaponry. You will at least find humor in training me with it?” DuPont inquires.

“Considering we both walk away from this battle. Yes.” Zagzagel banters.

Commander DuPont’s men return, Lucas leading them, in hand with long wooden steaks, some holding fire. Margret tried not to smirk; it felt like she had suddenly walked into a very confused 1800’s vampire saga. Lucas finds her eyes flashing a wink, causing Margret to blush.

Zulima nods toward the commander, leaning down to the woman, prying the vampire’s arms away from her knees, gently allowing her head to rest against the dirt. Her strawberry locks fall into the dust, her lips parted, revealing the razor sharp incisors hanging from her mouth.

Zulima takes a deep breath and rest her hands on the woman’s chest.

‘Zulima. If the vampire wakes, Zulima will be her first target…’ Margret suddenly begins to panic.

‘Zagzagel will protect her. He’s prepared.” Colm’s soft voice presses calmness in her mind, easing her nerves, his thumb caressing the back of her hand.

Everyone watches eagerly and anxiously as Zulima’s hands glow a faint blue hue, pushing strength into the limp body.

Seconds.

Then, Zulima’s head tilts, “Somethings, wrong…” Zulima tries to gasp, “Help…” her white sockets find Colm, “You must…” her voice begins to become week, glazes of concern emerge over faces as Colm rushes to Zulima’s side, placing his hand on the vampire, his hands now glowing among Zulima’s.

Silence erupts at the camp. Anticipation falls heavy against Margret’s heart, barely feeling the beat against her chest.

The ginger haired woman suddenly gasps a breath causing everyone to become tense, holding their weapons tightly in front of them. Zulima falls against Colm, and Margret rushes down to them, grasping on Zulima, staring at the woman as she struggles to gain clear consciousness.

She pulls herself into a sitting position, her green eyes flapping open, “Thirsty.” The struggles. “Thirsty.”

A sort of panic ensues, glances exchanged amongst each other.

“Water. I need water.” The woman grabs at her throat.

Lucas throws down his weapon quickly grabbing a canteen of water and shoving it into the woman’s hands. She chugs at it, pouring down her chin as her mouth can’t gulp fast enough. She wipes her lips, blinking her eyes again at the scene in front of her.

Whispers begin, as confusion brews, Margret suddenly realizing, “Zulima and Colm’s healing powers, they didn’t just heal her they must have healed her.”

Theories grow louder through the crowd, weapons now being lowered, the woman trying to make sense of it herself.

“What is your name, girl?” Commander DuPont asks.

“Dominious.” She softly answers.

“With your agreement, Zagzagel, I’d like to announce Dominious as a prisoner among this camp.” His eyes meet Lucas’ “Get her taken care of, she needs food and more water. See she is fully guarded.”

“Yes, sir,” Lucas answers commanding some of the men to move forward.

********

Read Other Realm Komiks Chapters

Read Chapter 25: Canary & the Cat

Realm Komiks New Worlds: Chapter 23: Rogue

Chapter 23:

Rogue

Susan paces by the phone in the dimly lit hotel room, gnawing at her thumb nail. Nora sits on the bed, chomping on pizza, watching television, giving the screen a faint chuckle or sideways grin when it entertains her.

Finally, without her eyes being removed from the old black box she holds up a slice of the cheese, “Eat a piece. Pacing by the phone won’t make him call any faster.”

“Thank you but I’m not hungry. It’s been five hours at least… what happens if he doesn’t come back?” she asks rhetorically.

“You have the card with plane guy’s number on it? We leave to Florida with him.” She suddenly turns, “What is the beach really like? As much of serenity as in the movies and on television?”

“It can be.” Susan finds herself on the bed beside her. “Do you want to talk about what you’ve been through there?”

With no hesitation Nora blurts, “Nope, I’m good.”

“Did you get to watch a lot of TV there?” Susan tries to open the doors for prying.

“All the time.” Nora chomps on the pizza taking another bite and filling her mouth.

“They educated you; you are well spoken for not having social contact…” Susan guesses.

Nora pauses her chewing for a moment, her eyes shift toward Susan, annoyed, then turning back to the TV, continues chewing her food.

“Okay, I get it; I’m asking a lot of questions… There is just a part of me that is so scared I’m going to fail at protecting my daughter, Janet is her name, and if I do…” Susan shutters at the thought standing from the bed and heading back to the phone, picking it up and making sure it works; then quickly slamming it back on the receiver, as it might have rang in that second. She stares at it for a moment.

Nora rolls her eyes and drops the slice on the box. “Look, lady, you just have to come up with a plan to stay one step ahead of them. You look like you’re accomplishing that. You sent her somewhere safe, for now. Just stay a step ahead and you’ll keep her safe.” Nora returns back to the bed, grabbing her unfinished slice and takes another bite, as if her words were never spoken.

The phone rings, Susan, now taken off guard, fumble the receiver, allowing it to finally rest against her ear, “Hello?” Pauses “yes send him up.”

“Hope you're sending the right person.” Nora's head turns.

Susan pauses, “But our code…”

“You're not staying one step ahead like this.” She warns her.

A knock pounds on the hotel door.

Susan pauses looking at Nora, watching her jump from the bed and hurrying to the door. She glares at Susan before pushing her eye against the peep hole. On the other side Steve stands, bags in hand nervously glancing around.

“It's him.” She nods to Susan falling back on the bed, pulling the entire box of food upon her lap.

Susan sighs shaking her head, “You could have let him in.” She goes to the door flinging it open, overcome with relief to see him standing before her. “Thank God, I've been worried sick.”

He pushes his way in with the bags and closes the door behind him. Throwing the bags down on the bed he begins pulling things out, “New clothes. Hair dye, you’re going to be blonde,” he tosses it to an unimpressed Nora, “and you a red head.” He smiles toward Susan.  “I have your ids and birth certificates. Susan, you'll need yours for the Bahamas, and Nora, well, I'm assuming you'll need yours indefinitely.”

“Blonde.” She looks at him. “Bleach Blonde.” She reads the box.

“You have to bleach it, you are too dark, so the woman says at the store. I need you two to hurry, we don't have much time.”

“Of course,” Susan suddenly says after processing everything Steve has just done. “Thank you.” She gives him a quick hug and pulls Nora by the arm toward the bathroom.

******

Dominious’ soft leather boots find a pounding echo to them as she storms down the long hall toward Sultana’s office. Roland follows close on her heals, nervous of his fate. Dominious narrows her eyes toward him, giving a reassuring nod before swinging open the door. “Queen!” She calls to her friend, referring only with the title when she is angry.

Sultana turns away from her conversation with Lucius, giving Dominious her attention, “My dear friend, something is troubling you.”

Dominious takes a deep breath, annoyed, “Don’t pretend to be sympathetic, Queen, you sent this… this… Born, to steal one of my children?”

“My, Queen, Sire Lucius…” Roland quickly tries to intervene.

“Silence.” Sultana’s head then slants, “Hmmm…” She circles around the new vampire studying him, “Is this his story?”

He nervously shifts his pleading eyes toward Dominious. “He almost succeeded, caught up with him in the woods. He had one of our girls. Iona is her name. An innocent young girl.”

“You, over anyone should understand you cannot get attached during war.” Sultana suggest, “And, you… What’s your name, born?”

“Roland, Queen.” He stutters.

“Lucius,” she turns, “Please, take care of Roland? I’m sure he is starving after such a journey…”

Dominious shifts her body guarding Roland, “Let him live, Sultana, it is not his fault.”

“Is that a demand or a request, Dom?” Sultana rests her hands into one another pausing.

“So, what he says is true. Why? Why would you do that? You gave me a duty and…” Dominious begins.

Sultana sighs, “Dominious, sometimes plans change. We merely, needed the girl as a pawn against her people; only a small casualty for the cause.”

“Iona is more than a pawn. They are my people now; I say who goes and who stays. I should be addressed as so.” Dominious tries to stand her ground.

“Lucius, please take Roland to find a decent meal and assign him to the mission we have discussed, I’d like a moment alone with my dear Dominious.” She slinks toward Lucius adding, “And please assure Roland’s safety, to honor Dominious’ word.” She secretly, winks at Lucius before giving a reassuring nod.

“Of, course majesty.” He returns the nod walking past Dominious and addressing Roland, “Let us depart, shall we?”

“Yes, Sir,” Roland agrees with a lingering pause before following him out the door.

The door shuts with a strong thud as it presses against the frame.

Sultana takes a deep breath and finds a seat in the office chair, propping her ankles above the desk. “Not bad in here, is it? Almost the comforts of home, just a few tweaks needed.”

“Sultana…” Dominious sighs with exasperation, “What is your intention?”

“Dare question me, Dominious?” Sultana’s brow slightly rises.

Dominious’ head shakes in disbelief, “I grow tire of your games. I am happy. For once, I am truly happy. I have everything I want here, together… I am only asking you respect this.”

“Remind me of the day I saved your life.” Sultana probes.

Dominious inhales sharply, tapering eyes she begins toward the door, about to leave she pauses, refusing to connect with Sultana. “I was dying when you came. We grew close and you could not bear to lose me.”

“Turn to me Dominious.” Commands the queen.

Dominious tilts her head to peer over her shoulder.

“I rescued you. I gave you a life to live.” Sultana reminds her.

“That’s debatable.” Dominious softly whisper turning the knob, pulling on the door.

Sultana rises suddenly, banging her fist against the wooden desk, “How dare you turn your back to me and snub all that we are, for some measly idea of being some kind of mother. I know this is what this is really about.”

Dominious pivots her body toward her, remaining silent.

“We are upset, misunderstandings do happen with us. We do not always share a mind but we will always share our hearts.” Sultana softens her voice.

Dominious’ fang finds her lip, pressing against it. “I should go, before I say regretting words.”

Sultana silences for a subtle second, then responds, “Of course, my friend.”

Dominious nods before yanking the door open and leaving.

******

Susan exits the bathroom, “Red head. More of a dark, red. Didn’t take too well with my color.”

“It works.” Steve shrugs, collecting their things.

“I feel as though I have had some kind of makeover. New clothes, hair, makeup… if my husband and daughter saw me now, they'd have a good laugh,” Susan attempts humor.

“Soon, enough,” Steve tries to encourage with a smile. “Where’s our stowaway?”

“Here.” Nora lingers in the bathroom door, head still wrapped in the hotel towel. “This is completely unnatural. No one is buying your idea.”

“At least we are all feeling optimistic,” Steve light heartedly grins, “To the car, shall we? Daisy is waiting.”

“Oh, yes, Daisy…” Susan pries.

Steve widely smiles, “After you ladies, the blue minivan down there. I borrowed from a  friend of mine, by the way.”

“A minivan?” Susan chuckles, “What a getaway car.”

“You are leaving the towel on your head?” Steve questions Nora.

Her eyes narrow as she walks past him, leaving the towel attached.

“Had to sell my car. Too obvious, my plate and all.” He explains, now following the women down the steps and toward the van.

“I would ask about a rental but I guess that would track back to you to…” Susan figures.

Steve nods, “Now you’re thinking like a…”

“Criminal.” Nora intercepts with unexpected wit.

Caught off guard Steve and Susan find themselves snickering toward one another, Nora hiding her sly smirk. Steve unlocks the vehicle, “You take front,” Nora mumbles toward Susan, allowing her to open the door.

Nora slides open the back of the van, and a yellow Labrador retriever quickly sits up, her tail patting against the seat, tongue flapping over her jaw with excitement.

“Ladies, this is Daisy.” Steve announces.

“A dog!” Nora exclaims backing away from the car, Daisy jumping from the seat to the entrance, her butt dancing side to side.

“She is adorable!” Susan’s voice finds an extra octave, sliding her body between Nora and the canine; her arms wrap the dog’s body giving it love. “She is beautiful.” Susan says to Steve not taking her eyes off the dog, “Aren’t you girl? You are so pretty and sweet,” baby talking Daisy, the dog nuzzles her head into Susan before jumping on the seat to lick Steve as he enters the vehicle.

“I’m not sitting in the back with a dog.” Nora announces.

“For some reason, I find it hard to believe a dog is the worse creature you’ve ever encountered,” Steve grunts, as if he is offended.

“I’ll sit in the back with her. Nora, please, sit in the front.” Susan suggest, already climbing in the back.

Nora jumps in the front, closing the door and pushing Daisy’s curious nose to the back. Steve starts the van and pulls out to the road.

“No wonder, you said she’d love the beach.” Susan warmly smiles rubbing Daisy’s back. “How old is she?”

“Five,” Steve frowns, “Feels like yesterday I found her. She was almost a year when I adopted her; her previous owners gave her up because of her chewing.”

“Yea, labs do that.” Susan shakes her head, “Their loss and your gain.”

“You know a lot about the breed, then?” he wonders.

“My husband had a chocolate lab when I met him and we married; He passed away about a year ago, the dog not my husband. Was fourteen. Good dog. Dodge he had named him. Great with our daughter.” She finds a faint smile pulling on her cheeks as she remembers him.

“Get another one some day?” he continues conversing, noticing Nora is resting her head against the seat with her eyes shut.

“Probably. Don’t have much time for a puppy now. Janet really wants to adopt a puppy.” She then decides, “Of course if we can get through this, I might just let her get whatever she wants.. as long as she is safe.”

“Nora’s sleeping,” he finds Susan for a second, turning back to the windshield.

“I’m not sleeping.” Nora moans, “Who can? All this mindless chatter.”

Susan and Steve quickly share another glance giving a passing grin. Susan watches out the window, also finding her eyes heavy.

“Would you mind if I dosed for a bit?” she politely seeks Steve’s approval.

“Not at all.” He assures.

“It’s just, you’ve been running around too, so busy… If you need company and help to stay awake….” She dances around her words with a sly bit of guilt.

“Really, it’s okay. I have my friend, coffee, and some great music to keep me company.” He lifts his mug to her eye view.

Susan’s cheeks purse as she lays her head back, fingers stroking Daisy’s fur as she drifts.

*****

“Wake up!” Steve yells.

Susan quickly pops up, fully alert along with Nora.

Steve pulls the van to the side of the road before entering the car congestion, feet in front of them.

“Susan jump in driver’s seat.” He shifts the van to park, already climbing to the back before she has a chance to process.

“What’s going on?” she struggles to understands climbing to the front.

“Check point up ahead.” He quickly tries to point pass the cars.

“A check point? For what?” she begins to panic.

Nora gives an annoying sigh pulling the towel off her head, “For us.”

“More specifically, for you,” Steve reminds Nora.

Nora scoffs, “Theoretically, but they could still be coming for her as much as for me.”

“So, why am I the driver?” Susan nervously ask.

“They’re looking for me with two women. Not a red head and blonde with a dog in a minivan. Just remember that. They have little clue, except fuzzy photos. Pull out to the line before we’re noticed as pulling over.” Steve tries to hurry her along.

Susan pulls out to the main road while Steve continues coaching.

“Don’t forget, your driver’s license are in your purses.” He begins pulling a blanket up around him as he lowers himself.

“They won’t check under a blanket?” Nora grunts.

“Stuff is packed in the back, you two are just road tripping. Heading up to Lake Michigan.”  He plans.

“What city?” Nora challenges.

“Traverse.” He eyes her.

“Where are we staying in Traverse?” she spins her head around meeting Daisy’s face before his.

“Pinewood Shores.” He doesn’t skip a beat.

The vehicle slowly inches closer up.

“Is that a real place?” Nora tries to confirm.

“It is. Don’t believe me, ask Daisy.” He smirks.

Nora’s eye’s meet the canine that now pounds her thick tail against the seat.

“Humpf.” Nora faces forward staring at the break lights ahead. “At least I asked, if not we might have been lost for information.” The balls of her eyes shift toward Susan briefly.

“It was a great idea to do so, Nora. Thank you.” She tries to be encouraging. “We are all nervous. Let’s just be calm and collect.” Susan’s voice is slow and steady, struggling to calm herself more than the other two.

Silence fills the van, other than the panting coming from Daisy as she now sits up and stares out the window.

The vehicle edges closer to the police cars, policemen standing outside, addressing each person before allowing them to travel on. “You’ve got this,” Steve whispers from the back covering under the blanket. “Daisy, back” he scolds the dog when she starts trying to lay on the blanket next to him.

“Great.” Nora mumbles turning toward the back.

“Come here Daisy,” Susan tries as she now pulls up to the policeman, sliding her finger over the button and allowing the window to lower.

Daisy quickly jumps up and pushes through the seat belt, sticking her head out the driver’s side with a forte’ bark, throwing the police man away from the car.

“Daisy.” Susan reprimands. “Sorry about that, sir.” she pushes Daisy’s face away from the window, “She’s just trying to protect us.”

The policeman tries to get a deeper look in the van, but Daisy pushes her body weight against Susan’s hand trying to get a sniff of the uniformed man.

“Go on, mam,” he says stepping back.

“Ugh, okay,” she waves rolling up window and pulling forward, patting Daisy, “Whoa! What the heck just happened! They didn’t question us at all.”

Steve springs up, “That’s my girl,” he grabs Daisy behind the ears kissing her forehead.

Nora gives a relieving chuckle, “four legged friend.” She mumbles.

“What was that?” Susan snickers.

“You like Daisy, now!” Steve pops overs the seat antagonizing Nora.

“Like is a strong word.” Nora grins.

******

Dominious storms out of the main doors, Lucius and Roland walking in. “Where are you going?” Lucius yells to her.

She stops, marching back toward him, “Don’t act like you care.”

“Roland, report to the queen, let her known things are taken care of.” Lucius commands.

Roland’s eyes shift toward Dominious, giving a longing look, his swallow is deep against the back of his throat, his head tilts toward the ground, giving a subtle nod and heading in.

“What you do to him, he acts like a scolded puppy.” She watches as he shuts the door behind him.

“You asked to keep him alive. I did.” Lucius reminds her.

“Don’t know what the hell you’ve been through but you both look like shit.” She scoffs turning away.

“Where are you going?” Lucius ask as if he doesn’t know.

Dominious gives him a long look, “What’s your angle, Lucius?”

His sharp fangs peek passed his lip as they curl, “Oh, Domnious, when will you be a little thicker skinned?”

“Don’t taunt me Lucius; I know you don’t like me. You never have, you’ve always been jealous of mine and Sultana’s friendship.” Her brow burrows in her head.

He gives a snide smirk, “She has done everything for you and you give her nothing.”

“Loyalty is everything,” Domnious reminds him.

“I am her loyalty and you know it.” He spits.

“Yes, you probably are, for I grow so dreary of her games. She’s so temperamental and irrational…most days.” She tries to turn away again but he grabs her.

“She is your queen and you are still in existence because she chose to have you be so. When you are at your lowest of lows, I want you to remember, you have no one else but her.” He wickedly beams, causing Dominious to yank her arm from his grasp.

“Never touch me again.” She warns and then speeds off into the night, not giving him another chance to speak.

Her legs carry her fast, her feet feel easy over the dead leaves and trees. Now she only wants Figaro’s arms wrapped around her, reminding her of why she still chooses to go on. He always calms her, gives her a pep talk; reminds her of why she loves Sultana and why they are friends…

Time and again Sultana will force her to relive the day her blood was infected. The day Sultana chose for her live, forever. Her miscarriage, her disease, she was so week and feeble… everyday Sultana came to see her, she was like an angel brought to Dominious last days with peace and light… but then the darkness came. The darkness she never asked for but Sultana decided to give her… Sultana is her best friend, her only friend, until Figaro… Sultana drives her by guilt, politely evoking the memories of the day she saved her.

She loved Sultana more than she resented her. She knew Sultana tried to do what she felt was right, it was Lucius that mostly was the devil sitting on her shoulder…

She pauses, sniffing the air, thick smoke slightly burning her nostrils.

Fire.

The smell of war. Burning flesh. She has forgotten over the years of such a wretched smell.   

She searches above the trees… her chest rocked as she realizes the direction it’s coming from.

Her jaw drops and she stands heavy for a moment, “No.” her breath falls short against the air. “They wouldn’t…”

A lump in her throat lingers for a moment and then her legs lunge forward carrying her faster than she has ever felt herself go. Panic begins to pound and she finally stands before the village where flames scream in the night.

“Figaro!” she screams entering the village past the roaring flames. “Figaro!” She finds the home they have occupied and swings the door open, fire rushing out for breathe.  Dominious falls backward onto the dusty ground, “Figaro!” she calls again. Picking herself up, she goes to the window, peering in… Figaro is limp in the back of the room…

She leaps through the window tugging on him… “Figaro!” his body falls to the ground, a stake through his heart, revealing the two children with broken necks behind him…

Dominious gasp, “Figaro,” she falls to his side trying to grab the children into her arms too, but the fire begins to roar around her. She struggles and lifts his body; scuffling to pile the two children… the fire begins to rush at her. She stands up with Figaro’s body, peering down at the two little bodies, giving a sigh and setting Figaro’s body back to the ground. She kisses his lifeless lips and then his forehead, “I love you, my love,” a maroon droplet forms at the corner of her eye and she scoops the children into her arms rushing to the window, flames engulfing the frame as she jumps through. Her breath is heavy against the roof of her mouth, the maroon liquid rolling down her cheek, she holds the children, watching helplessly as the town burns around her.

“Your safe, now…” she cradles the young girl and boy, “You’re safe now. I’ve got you…” her head falls between the bodies, her body rocking under the falling ashes. “I’m going to protect….” She tries to speak, but it turns to sobs, the salty maroon liquid flowing to the end of her mouth before streaming from her chin. “No.” her breath is short and deep, “No. No. No…” her neck extends to the dark, the sky clouded in smoke. “Nooooooo,” a bellowing cry echoes from her throat, then her body gives a final defeating slump over Sabina and Marius, the fire continuing to burn around them.

******

Read Chapter 24: Solutions

Read Other Realm Komiks Chapters

Realm Komiks Prequel New Worlds: Chapter 20 Unified

Chapter 20:

                                                                      Unified

                                                      

The women’s swords clank against one another, their sheer  weapons bouncing sun light. Natika’s majestic wings spread, each delicate feather spread to its fullest, her elbow forward, holding her sword. Natika’s head tilts forward toward Margret. “Your next move…”

Margret finds footing and charges toward Natika, her wings whoosh  above the wind, backing her slightly away, sword slamming against Margret’s. “More Advantageous, Margret.”

Margret grits her teeth and pushes harder against the wing creature, her wings giving a powerful flap, tumbling Margret to the ground.

Natika’s feet tap against the soil as she slowly walks toward Margret, sword guarding her breast.  “Don’t knuckle under now.”

Margret backs away slowly, sword guarding her torso. She pauses, a short breath and then lets out a low bellow as she stampedes toward the winged woman. Their swords meet, jostling against one another, biceps pressing against their skin as they continue to shove against one another, swords trying to slip against the force.

Margret grunts a final “Ugh,” toppling Natika, dusting her white wings against the colorful dirt. Margret gazes down at her opponent and with one last thrust, knocking Natika’s sword to her side. “Check mate” she smirks pulling herself to her feet and lending a hand to help Natika up.

“Well done.” She smiles pulling herself from the ground. “Should I fear that an Earthling has so much power behind her thrust?”

“You should fear all Earthlings, Natika.” Margret solemnly warns, “We have an anger in our soul that you, of the Cepae planet, do not know how to harbor.”

 “Maybe so; but we have an unconditional love we will die to protect. One with no fear of their life is much more dangerous than anyone who is in anger.” She addresses. “One who harbors anger becomes careless.”

Margret pauses, “Have you ever fought in a battle of any sort, Natika?”

Natika’s eyes shift awkwardly, “I have not. Does not mean I am not ready for a battle to present itself.”

“I’m not judging,” Margret quickly assures her, “If you understanding what judgement really is.” She pauses searching in Natika’s perfect bone structure for an answer, “I’ve never been in a war, or fought in one; but I have met soldiers that have. My grandfather actually, fought in World War II. His job was to pick up the bodies after D-day. The American soldiers, off of Normandy Beach. One of his best friends discharged, couldn’t handle the duty of picking up pieces of American Soldiers.” She finds Natika’s eyes, which seem to beg to understand.

“I try…” Natika discouragingly shakes her head.

“I know.” Margret interrupts. “I tell you because I want you to understand what you face. What all of you face on our planet. Earthlings can be brutal and merciless. In battle, you are either on a team or against a team. There is no listening to your heart and what is right or wrong. It is what side are you on ad who are you willing to die for.”

Natika withdrawal her sword into a fashionable ring upon her finger taking Margret’s arm into hers , “You are wise a million times than I ever will be when it comes to planet Earth, no matter what kind of warrior I am on our planet. I do not understand your Earth or its multitude of customs. A planet so divided, many rulers, many beliefs, all colliding….”

“There surely must be other planets out there besides ours. Based on so much good and evil, so equally divided? Earth can’t be the only one.”

“Earth is not. There are other planets that we believe are equally of Earth or perhaps worse, but none within our Realm. None so close.”

Margret gives a mocking scoff.

“What is it?” Natika pleas to understand.

“Oh nothing, just the comment of ‘so close.’ An idea that Earth is close to Cepae is not in our definition.” Margret stops unlocking her arms from Natika and withdrawing her sword to the perfect stone upon her finger. “Our planet does not work, Natika, truth be told. We have hatred, evil, and people killing people over beliefs, colors of skin, religions, or the mere fact that a person may have looked at them wrong or cut them off in traffic.”

“Traffic?” Natika tries to keep up with Margret’s rambles.

“The point is,” Margret sighs, “Cepae is coming to help fight a battle that you could be killed for the mere fact that you look human… with wings on your back. Earthlings fear anything and everything that they cannot understand or that we cannot process in our feeble brains. You will all be in danger,  no matter what side you feel you are fighting for.”

A voice chimes in from behind the two women, “Our passion will be fighting for all Cepae descendants that reside on Earth. Knowing or not.”

“Zulima!” Margret excitedly announces, falling into her arms with a humongous hug, her heart now vulnerable to the Cepae customs.

Natika joins with a brief hug as Zulima lightens her grip on Margret.

“So wonderful Zulima. What brings you?” Natika inquires.

“It’s time.” Zulima chokes through her lower vocal cord.

The women look at her, trying to figure out the exact meaning of her words.

“Colm will meet you Margret. Natika, the other warriors await you to begin. Transportation toward Earth will depart morning. Earth is in danger of takeover from Divobite’. Other Planeteers are close to entering Earth’s atmosphere as we speak.”

“Divobite’?” Margret questions.

“The vampires.” Zulima qualifies. “Please, Natika, find the other warriors. I’ll find Margret to Colm.”

“Of course, Zulima. I will see you both at transportation.” She nods and hurries off.

“Zulima…” Margret begins.

“Margret, Opal and Nacreous are eager to board the transportation. Your wings will be ready or battle.” Zulima informs her tone, flat and her face expressionless.

“Zulima…” Margret tries to intercept the conversation.

“Margret!” Colm exclaims running to her, smuggling her in an embrace, grabbing her cheeks and pulling her into a kiss. “Come, on, we must go.”

“Colm, Zulima, I don’t understand why she is going, why…” she tries to understand.

“All healers are summoned for battle, Margret.” He informs her as if she should already know.

Margret’s head tries to find Zulima but she has already disappeared. “Colm…” Margret struggles to explain.

“Margret,” he interrupts, “It’s the way we work together. Warriors go nowhere without the healers. We are all family.”

********

Bruinen’s steps fall heavy through the house that is white, American claimed on the planet Earths; Nawfar close to his side, her small footsteps twice for every one of his. The other Acquavodians’ steps echo short behind his, relieving little stress of the Earthling’s never ending red carpet, crystal chandeliers and miscellaneous country flags, reminding of what country on Earth you must be loyal to.

Bruinen finds the air through his lungs as they finally stop, the suited men turning toward him, opening a set of doors simultaneous as though their whole lives were dedicated for that moment.

Bruinen hesitantly enters through the doors, greeted by a multitude of suited men standing from the wooden desk, in front of their black leathered chairs. “Acquavodians.” President Cromwell greets. He pulls himself from behind his chair and briskly greets Bruinen, shaking his hand within his. “I apologize if I’m overstepping, this is a common American custom.”

Bruinen briefly tries to grin, “Yes, I have come to know. Excuse me for my immediate question, but where are the rest of the Planeteers?”

“On their way. We, White House Chief of Staff, Mr. Watson, our National Security Council, Advisor and also of Homeland Security. It’s a privilege for you to join us here; we’ve made accommodations for Planeteers leaders in another area, able to communicate with your armies, of course.

Bruinen feels his fist involuntary clinch as he turns his head toward Marlin, in returns slightly raises an eyebrow. “I’m not exactly sure how Earth runs their… ‘Armies’ but we stay beside our fellow comrades. No matter what our… ‘Status’ be on our planet.”

Cromwell turns towards Watson who stands and approaches. “We understand this dilemma, Sir Bruinen, is it okay to address you as so?”

“Sovereign Bruinen.” Bruinen nods.

“Of course, Sovereign Bruinen. Normally, perhaps on your planet, you would stand next to your comrade, as a King would his army in battle. However, we are entering a war with other planets, other realms. Nothing that Earth has ever encountered before. It is of most importance that the… spokes people… may I tip toe around the title safely, we cannot allow anything to happen which could comprise your planets stability.”

Bruinen’s head falls downward toward Nawfar, her small oval face tilting towards his. “Let us discuss this.” She finally speaks up, her squeaky voice almost knocking the room from their feet.

“Of course.” Cromwell chimes in. “Please let me personally escort you to a room for discussion. Privately.”

Cromwell nods toward the men in the room exiting, and Bruinen takes his mild signal with the others following.

They quietly walk up the stairs, following the President. “This is American history.” He finally tries to break the awkward silence. “Every room has its own stories. It’s an American honor to serve our people and live here. I don’t take my duty lightly. Elected, by our country, many countries on Earth do not have that luxury. The people of America have many years and continue to fight for a certain freedom.”

“Don’t we all?” Nawfar chimes in.

Taken off guard Cromwell pauses for a moment turning toward her, “One should hope so.” President Cromwell dips toward the petite elf like woman.  “However, all of Earth isn’t so. Power is what many Earthlings crave.”

“Do you mean to tell me your America doesn’t crave power on planet Earth?” Bruinen adds. “Are you all…”

“Everyone on Earth craves power.” Cromwell’s lips tighten for a moment as he opens the doors in front of them, “Yellow Oval Office, ladies and gentlemen.”

Bruinen stops and watches the president for a moment before entering the room. “The other Planeteers…”

“Will be here soon.” President Cromwell assures them.

The five of them enter the room, Bruinen studying the surroundings carefully, his eyes shifting toward Nawfar. She ignores Bruinen’s eyes finding comfort on the sofa. “Are we to be content here until others arrive?”

Cromwell finds seating across from her, ignoring that the others stand above him, “What is Acquavodo’s plan?”

“Marlin is our lead of defenders,” she answers immediately,  “After we arrived he has called upon for more of our defenders to join us. They will enter through the triangle, where Tsunami, his daughter, and one of our most respected interpreters, Kae, will meet them.”

Cromwell’s eyes can’t help to shift to Bruinen, standing behind Nawfar, as if was directing his question toward him. Bruinen lays his hand on Nawfar’s shoulder, slightly squeezing it of reassurance, nodding toward Cromwell in agreement.

“Should we arrange to meet your defenders…” Cromwell begins.

“We will guide them to where they need to be. Please know our strongest point in battle is, of course, with or around water. We will not have much use on Earth soil otherwise.” Nawfar reminds Cromwell of their weakness.

“Of course.” Cromwell acknowledges standing. “We will be required to collaborate with the United Nations, of course. I am sure there will need to be an agreement between our Nations. We will need to spread the Planeteers among us, for us, countries on Earth, to feel somewhat safe in what is unraveling here.”

Bruinen suddenly derides, “What about the Planeteers’ feeling safe? You are one whole world that could easily decide to turn against us. Having the Planeteers divided amongst your planet leaves us little assurance in our safety.”

“I would think they would all agree, dividing our Realm if non-negotiable. We have alliances for years beyond your Earthling comprehension. You will need to agree to which one of your countries we all reside.” Nawfar securely announces.

“Very well.” President Cromwell bobs his head. “You will have to excuse me while I return to the Conference room for further counsel between all United Nations. Will you find comfort here, if I were to excuse myself?”

The Acquavodians’ exchange glances and finally Bruinen agrees, “We will, if promised we will be notified of any other arrivals of our alliances.”

“Of course.” Cromwell assures. “I will also make sure you find comforts in some of our American cuisine. Please make yourself comfortable. Intelligence outside the doors for your safety, I assure you.”

President Cromwell finds the doubles doors and begins to open them, “Sir!” Tsunami unexpectedly calls, “Before you head through the door…”

He turns toward the young woman with a raised eyebrow.

“Kae and I would like to head toward the triangle, to meet our men, as soon as possible. To make sure they do not arrive to hostile welcoming.” Her chin tilts toward Bruinen and Nawfar waiting for encouragement.

“Of course.” Nawfar quickly stands up. “Marlin should go too. Marlin will await our word before proceeding in anyway, I can assure you.”

“Very well, I’ll take this to the room and we will address the UK and they will be in touch with RBDF. I don’t foresee any problem in your request.”  Cromwell agrees, “Any other request before I proceed?”

Bruinen shakes his head, “No, we will wait patiently forward.”

Cromwell gives a reassuring grin before exiting, “I look forward to our working together. Thank you for your understanding of our must see customs.”

The door closes and Bruinen finds a seat next to Nawfar. He takes her hand and whispers in her ear, “We will find what we need in Atlantis. Tsunami will be successful.”

Nawfar’s eyes find Tsunami who is already studying the delicacy of the room. “I know.” She whispers toward him.

*********

Margret’s hands stroke Colm’s chest under the dim light. The transportation in headed toward Earth with over half of Cepae’s warriors, little compared to one country of Earth. “I’m scared, but more so for the Cepae people than anyone else.”

Colm kisses the top of Margret’s head, stroking her locks. “My love, we are all a bit terrified.” He tenderly reminds her, “Not once ever have I heard Cepae want to fight a battle, let alone on one the scariest planets there is.”

“You all talk of Earth as if it is horrid.” Margret sighs. “There are many good people there.”

“I have no doubt, you lived all your life there.” He smiles to her, his fingers softly trailing down her spine.

She quickly perks up staring into his eyes, “You give me too much credit.”

“You are not giving enough. What you have been through…” his voice trails.

“Don’t feel sorry for me.” She commands, “If all hasn’t happened to me I wouldn’t be who I am today. I wouldn’t be here.”

Colm intensely lock lips with Margret, their tongues slowly intertwining, his thumb pressing against her chin he slowly pulls away, gazing in her eyes. “I will be by your side, you and all your uncertainty.”

“You’ve been through training, but the other healers…” Margret sadly whispers.

“We will protect them.” Colm assures her. “And I will not let Zulima out of my sight. Or you, for that matter.”

Margret nuzzles her head to his shoulder, pressing her cheek harder against his left chest. “Your heart, I love the beat.” She softly moans closing her eyes.

*******

The clock ticks against the silence of the room. The Acquavodians had already found little comfort in the American’s cuisine and the room was quickly dissolved to dullness and impatience as they began to feel slightly imprisoned from what was happening outside of that house.

“I’ve had enough.” Nawfar stands. “Silence is only welcomed during peaceful moments and this is not one of them.”

Her pupils dilate as they meet Bruinen. “Agreed. Let’s find Cromwell.”

As they ignore the other reactions and head toward the door in swings open, Cromwell on the other side. His body slightly pulls back, not expecting the duo so close to the entrance.

“Sovereigns Bruinen and Nawfar.” He addresses.

“Apologies, we were beginning to grow impatient. Nerves, I suppose.” Nawfar squeaks at him with no shame.  

“Understandable,” he agrees walking on passed them, addressing all of them in the room, “Americans have military that will escort the three to the Bahamas. There, the RBDF, Royal Bahamas Defense Force, will guide American troops and the three of you. At this point our countries will collaborate on the best defense from this point. We have had mysterious behavior in reptiles, along coast lines of America shores, Australia and small parts of Africa and Asia. Parts of the United Nations are convinced it could be relative to Romania. If this is true, we will need your Planet dispersed through these regions, among the military’s.”  

“It is possible for our planet to do this, assuming I am able to gather our communication devices from our ships.” Marlin intercepts the conversation.

Nawfar glances towards him in disapproval but he continues, “Our communication must be maintained from our submerges, and from under water, to keep them safe. These will need be controlled by Tsunami and Kae in the Bahamas.”

“I see no problem in your request.” Cromwell agrees. “In addition, Sovereign Bruinen and Nawfar, the United Nations, already some Planeteers beginning to land, such as Zeebla, Scylitan and Cepae, they are being dispersed through the Earth United Nations.” Noticing the crinkle in Nawfar’s forehead he quickly continues, “Nawfar and Bruinen will join me in the conference room, having the ability to speak to other Planeteers at all times, just as us, United Nations are able to communicate. We strongly believe this is the greatest advantage to all involved.”

Bruinen and Nawfar share a pause, evaluating one another’s expressions. Finally Bruinen speaks, “Very well. We are also agreement with our fellow Planeteers. Nawfar and I will keep footing in the United States of America while our fellow Planeteers shelter with others of your United Nation.”

President Cromwell gestures, “Follow me then. The rest of you will follow the agents to your destinations. I’ll give you a brief moment to say your good-byes and wait right outside the door.” Cromwell shuts the door behind him.

As the men gather Nawfar hurries to Tsunami. “Find it. You might only have this one chance to bring it home.”

*******

Margret finds her way through the ships’ long hallways, the interior slightly appearing translucent against the prism lighting. She waits for a moment, the lucent barrier opening itself to her. Margret finds Zulima, standing among Zagzagel and Serafim, softly speaking to one another.

Zulima tilts toward Margret, pulling her in, holding her hand, and subtly allowing her to join the conversation.

Zagzagel barely acknowledges finishing his sentence, “and they are in parts of country Hungary, why we are not heading in from that angle.”

“Who is?” Margret turns toward Zulima.

“The Divobitians.” Zulima softly squeezes her hand with her attention returned to Zagzagel. “Father and Mother say we are meeting an army of Earthlings calling them Franco-German Brigade. From these Earthlings, we will learn more of our place among the defensive lines. Father and Mother will be located at another station, here they will be able to communicate with other Planeteers’ leaders.”

“What will this place be called that they are taken to? How will we reassure their safety?” Serafim inquires.

Margret blinks her eyes, trying to fight the visions of war and pain that try to press on her mind. The visions she begins having are dark, blood being spilled from throats…

“A country Earthlings call Switzerland, the city Geneva. There are other countries, Austria, Italy, Czech and Poland… We will learn more from Franco-German Brigade of where they will stand.” Zulima’s eyes shift for a brief moment as she gathers more of her thought, “The main struggle the Earthlings are facing is the technology. They do not have the weaponry to have an immediate elimination of the Divobitians. There are few of them compared to the Earthlings. However, the Divobitians are rapidly spreading their infections among the Earth, allowing those to join them become one of them and those who refuse they destroy.”

“Building their army while destroying Earthlings who will not obey.” Serafim summarizes.

Margret’s head tilts, finding her index finger pushing against its temple. The horrid pictures become stronger, hearing please and cries of mercy. Pleading for life of their children’s survival as a woman and man with red eyes rip them away from sobbing mother’s arms.

She takes a deep breath but her breathing quickly becomes rapid while trying to shake the haunting images. The three  oblivious to Margret as she struggles to pretend.

“We will need to inform the Earthlings of the technology the Planeteers hold. Taking us to the front lines, stopping the death.” Zagzagel decides.

“Yes, I agree, but we also must pursue our suggestions heavily, while sounding nonthreatening to the United Nations ideas.” Serafim follows.

“Agreed. It will be important.” Zulima nods.

Margret’s head becomes dizzy.

“Margret, perhaps you will be the best resource in our communication.” Serafim suggest now turning toward her.

“I…” she struggles to stay in the conversation, to stay focus on the men standing before her.

Zulima finally realizing the emptiness in Margret’s eyes stands before her grabbing her arms. “What is it, Child? Are you okay?” her hands quickly find their way to Margret’s brow, a faint glow pushing gleaming from her fingertips.

Margret tries shaking it out of her head again, sealing her eyes and quickly opening, embracing the healing light flowing from Zulima’s fingertips deep in her temples “These visions as you are speaking… they are just… strong.

“What do you see?” Zagzagel questions, “Can you communicate it?”

Margret takes a deep breath, “It’s just killing and death. I don’t know if it’s what is happening now or to come. It was triggered only now when you were speaking of everything… maybe it’s just made up in my head…” She gains clear focus as Zulima removed her hands from Margret’s head.

“Better?” Zulima whispers with concern.

Margret bobs her head with assurance. “Yes. Thank you.”

“I can assure you it is very real.” Zulima finds her chin, meeting her eyes. “Do you know of these armies and countries we speak of?”

Margret sheepishly shrugs, “Know of the countries, yes. Been to them? No. If you handed me a blank world map I would not be able to site which country lays on it. Except, Italy. That is the boot.”

“The boot?” Serafim becomes curious.

“It is irrelevant.” Margret inhales deeply, “Just an American school girl trick to remember where the country sits in Europe. Forget it,” she switches gear with a burst of gumption, “ I will fight and I will take direction.  I will be useless about culture and customs while we are there but I will use every ounce of strength I’ve learned on the Cepae planet.”

Zagzagel confusingly adds, “It is your planet we will be on but you will not know of your own culture and customs? ”

“I’m not an idiot Zag.” She refers to him, “But I don’t own the planet either. There are over billions of earthlings, customs, beliefs… I am only one person.”

“Let her be.” Zulima suggest, “Her visions are strong now and haunting. She needs to find peace now.”

“Of course,” Serafim agrees, “I hear visions can be mentally draining. We need her sharp when we arrive.”

Zulima tugs at Margret’s arm pulling her away. “When I have more information I will bring it. Until then, inform the others.” She adds to the men before entering the hallway with Margret.

“Where are you taking me?” Margret wonders.

“Perhaps…” Zulima begins nuzzling closer in, “You should stay with Father and Mother in the country where Geneva resides.”

“Absolutely not.” Margret protest stopping Zulima. “Why would you suggest…”

“I know your heart is in the right place, however…” Zulima begins.

“The answer is no.” Margret interrupts, “I don’t care what the reason is. I will be out there with you and Colm.”

“Your visions could provide…” again Zulima tries to explain .

“No. No. No.,” she shakes her head vigorously. “Absolutely not.  This is the end of this conversation. Besides, my visions aren’t powerful enough yet, not to mention unpredictable. I’m not sitting on the sidelines worrying. I will be with you and Colm. Now if you will excuse me,” she gives Zulima a halfhearted hug and begins walking down the hall.

“Colm isn’t down that way.” Zulima calls.

“I’m not going to see Colm, I’m going to visit Opal. He calls to me.” She announces and continuing on.

Natika walks up behind Zulima touching her elbow gently, “Is everything well?”

“Natika,” Zulima softly speaks, sliding Natika’s hand to her forearm not letting go. “I want Yourself and Colm close to Margret and I at all times. Help me be aware when she is having visions.”

“Yes, of course, Zulima. Is there need of worry?” Natika questions baffled.

“Not yet.” Zulima turns toward her, “but if Margret has any while in battle, it could quickly be the cause of death.”

****

Read Chapter 21: Refuge

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