Magic, Awakened

Latvia sat alone, up inside her secret black room. Sunbeams poured in through the room’s small circular window, tiny particles of dust dancing whimsically in the pale light. Latvia thought about her sisters. She thought about Lithuania. The sense of fear she had felt over her sister’s wellbeing had vanished, inexplicably. Just a day ago, all she had wanted to do was rescue her. But then she found the quilaire… and now all she could think about was whether Peter had managed to figure something out about it at the Phsyiological Engineering and Improvement Station. Latvia no longer sensed Lithuania to be in any peril… at all. But was she right?

Latvia shook her head. In the crystal orb, she had seen Lithuania dying—or something. Clearly Lithuania had used her gift… but it wasn’t right for Latvia to just sit around, doing nothing, simply waiting for news of the quilaire. She had to get her mind back on track—she had to find a new crystal orb, and seek Lithuania.

She began rummaging through the crates and piles of old boxes again. She knew her mom had at some point delved into the arts of foretelling—and sure enough, within a matter of minutes Latvia found her mother’s Fortune box.

It was much like Latvia’s own mahogany box; it would have been passed down to Latvia as an inheritance, had Latvia’s mother not believed every Fortune box to be a highly individual affair. Trying to see something through another person’s orb, she said, was like trying to fit into another woman’s bra. Possible, but probably extremely uncomfortable, not to mention sub-optimal. As for using another person’s fortune dice and oracle cards—well that was just out of the question. “Like a man trying to get pregnant,” her mother had said. “You just can’t do it.” Latvia’s mom had always come up with the most ridiculous analogies.

Yet as Latvia unfastened the bronze clasp of her mother’s old box, she couldn’t help but recall the day she acquired her own mahogany box… The day she walked with her mother into the old store of the Occult… Checking out the Fortune sets one by one, each box holding the same exact contents, yet all the contents of one box being imperceptibly distinct from those of the next… Then finally, she came across the mahogany case she would come to call her own. The box with the mysterious gold inscriptions she wasn’t yet able to read—the box that, for some inexplicable reason, took a hold of her sight and almost called her by name—the box that was supposed to hold the crystal orb which just one day ago Latvia had idiotically shattered against the wall.

“Dumbass,” Latvia muttered to herself, opening her mother’s box. There lied her mom’s orb, larger than what Latvia was accustomed to, along with the pouch of fortune dice, the familiar set of oracle cards, and—a book? Latvia frowned. Fortune boxes weren’t supposed to hold more than the three classic tools of divination. Throwing anything else in the mix was taboo.

Latvia picked up the book and eyed it carefully. It looked ancient. The dark leather cover, the worn spine with its three raised bands, the golden fore-edge… No title, no inscriptions. The book smelled and looked almost prehistoric, but it seemed to be in good condition. Book later, Lithuania now, her mind reminded her. Latvia nodded. Whatever was in that book could wait. She had to try and reach Lithuania now.

“Alright Latvia,” she told herself, taking her mother’s orb and placing it at the center of the table, “You can do this.” Self-encouragement was silly, but it helped anyway. She took a deep breath, placed her hands on the orb, and closed her eyes.

“Spirits of the ghostly plane,
Come before I turn insane,
Help me see Lithuania now,
Just help me out, I don’t care how.”

Latvia knew she was a terrible poet, but luckily those spirits weren’t very demanding in terms of poetry. Soon enough, the room was growing dim, and the familiar chill swept through the walls and over the floorboards. The crystal orb grew cold, and Latvia began to wonder at how it had been so easy to summon the spirits when she wasn’t even using her own crystal orb.

The answer came soon enough. “Latvia,” whispered a voice, familiar but faint. Latvia opened her eyes, startled. To her surprise, all she could see was mist, thick and white. She knew the mist wasn’t actually around her; it was as if her eyes were seeing through someone else’s—as if she was foregoing the process of having to look into the crystal orb, and simply seeing what was inside.

“Mom?” Latvia said.

“I’m sorry we did this to you, Latvia. Your father and I…. we didn’t know any better, at the time.” Through the mist in her eyes, Latvia was catching sight of a faint human silhouette.

“Mom, you don’t need to apologize. I’m happy with my—”

“You don’t yet know the full repercussions of our actions.” The figure in the mist was growing clearer. “What we did to you and you sisters… It will soon make you three the focal point… of everything.”

Latvia shook her head. “Mom, I don’t—”

“Read the book. Take it to Estonia. Save Lithuania. You will understand everything soon enough.” The voice of Latvia’s mother sounded urgent—rushed. There would be no time for her and Latvia to talk at ease, and Latvia felt it. She didn’t want her mother to go away so soon. It had been so long since she had heard her mother’s voice… So long since she had seen her face… And she had so many questions to ask her. She wanted to speak with her—know where she was, know what she had been up to all these years, hear news from her dad—not receive cryptic messages through a blurry haze.

“Mom—” Latvia choked. Was the figure forming in the mist her mother? "Mom… how are you communicating with me?”

“There isn’t time for us to speak. But you must know this: an event will occur soon, that will cause you a great deal of pain. You must endure it, and have faith that everything will work out for the best. No matter what your heart tells you, you can’t linger here longer. You must go to Lithuania, and guide her.”

“Mom!” Latvia choked. “Why did they take you?” The figure in the mist was growing more and more distinct. “Are you even alive?!”

“Read the book. Take it to Estonia. Save Lithuania,” her mother repeated. “I love you.”

“Mom!” Latvia cried.

And suddenly, the mist vanished, and the indistinct figure became clear. It was Lithuania, walking through dark woods, wiping her eyes. She was somewhere in the LusciousLockian woods... The time of day was ambiguous, but it was clear she was walking unaccompanied... she was by herself... she was...

Alone, and she wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. Lithuania would never have wanted anyone to see her break down like that—like a little girl, just because she’d taken a slap to the face. Timoteo was an asshole. An entitled, overbearing, disrespectful son of a bitch. Lithuania should have known better than to let her emotions get the best of her. After all, it wasn’t like soldiers weren’t trained to take a beating.

But this beating had been different. This wasn’t the result of war—it was the result of an outright lack of decency. Granted, Lithuania slapped him first—and that was out of line. Not that she hadn’t been provoked, but again, she should have known better. Still, her slap had hardly fazed Timoteo. Timoteo’s slap, on the other hand, had knocked her to the ground.

Lithuania shook her shoulders and quickened her stride, making her way back to the concrete tower. She didn’t want to think about such things. A chill was setting in, and she didn’t want to get caught outside after nightfall. Not that it would be such a big deal, seeing as daytime and nighttime had become almost synonymous in LusciousLocks…

Still, Timoteo had been such a prick. The force with which he had slapped Lithuania was entirely uncalled for. Lithuania couldn’t help but recall the hundred and one thoughts that had sped through her mind as she fell to the floor in Timoteo’s dungeon. Or maybe not thoughts, exactly… but a combination of images and emotions. A medley of sensations she hadn’t felt since she was a child… Feelings reminiscent of a time when she had been… powerless.

Lithuania paused. Then, with a kick, smashed a rotting log in two. She could feel her cheeks growing hot with anger. She smashed the remains of the log even further. She was doing it again, and she didn’t care. She was turning her fear, her sorrow, her frustration—she was turning it all into rage. She was pissed. She was pissed. She was pissed.

And in an instant she remembered why she had become a Foggistani soldier in the first place—why she clung so fervently to her lineage—to her family mission. Why she so arduously strove to climb the ranks of the Foggistani Helo-Fleet, to receive every possible medal, to secure the favorable opinion of every single high-ranking officer—

Lithuania picked up what was left of the rotten log and hurled it against a tree. It smashed to bits, though not as satisfyingly as Lithuania would have wished. She cursed aloud, and fumed, and paced back and forth, and clutched at her hair. She hated what she was feeling, but she couldn’t help but feel it. People like Timoteo brought out the worst in her. People like Timoteo reminded her of everything she couldn’t control. They embodied everything Lithuania was against—everything she thought was wrong with the world—everything she feared.

He was irrational. He was impetuous. He was a loose cannon. Lithuania’s words had no effect on him. People like Timoteo left Lithuania feeling totally and absolutely powerless. And she wouldn’t deal with that. She couldn’t deal with that. Not again. Not after everything she had been through. Not after the helplessness of losing Marco—the powerlessness she felt when she had to let her parents go. The emotions that almost killed her when she was forced to watch her mom and dad be taken away. Not again. Not again. Not—

A monstrous trumpeting sound shook in the distance. Lithuania froze. The woods grew still as death, as the leaves, the wind, and the trees—all movement ceased. Lithuania couldn’t tell why, but just the sound of the monster shook her to her very core. An irrational fear kept her rooted her to the ground—

Until the sound repeated itself, and everything in the forest burst back to life, terrified. Lithuania snapped out of her panic, and dashed frantically in the direction of the tower. The ground shook—softly, at first, but more and more noticeably with every step the monster took. It was approaching, and quickly. Lithuania couldn’t tell if it was in the woods, or skirting the forest edge—she only knew it’d be ridiculously stupid of her to wait and find out.

“FELIX!” she shrieked, the terror escalating through her veins. The wind quickly picked up, turning in a matter of seconds into a gust, swerving, weaving, dashing through the forest trees like a tempest. “What the hell is going on?!” Lithuania thought. She gripped the pistol in her holster out of instinct—then realized it felt just about as useful as a twig. “FELIX!”

The tower appeared in the distance. Lithuania burst through the forest edge, running full speed towards the heavy, black iron door. “FELIX!” she cried. Though her feet were hardly touching the ground, she could feel the earth trembling continuously now. The monster was running—

And then it trumpeted again. Lithuania felt every inch of her skin burst into flames, just as she reached and crashed into the tower’s iron door. She screamed—it was the same sensation she had felt before—her skin, her muscles, her limbs—all burning and falling to pieces.

And then the pain went away. Lithuania opened her eyes and gasped for air. She was on the floor, her fists against the iron door. “Shit,” she thought, picking herself up and tugging furiously at the door handle. It wouldn’t budge. “FELIX!” The shaking of the earth was causing bits of cement to break off the tower. Lithuania looked behind her in horror, expecting the monster to pop into view any second now. “FELIX DAMNIT OPEN THE DOOR!” she yelled. And then the floor trembling ceased, and silence reigned absolute.

Lithuania could hear the blood pounding in her ears. She could hear her own panicked breathing, and feel every ounce of blood traveling through her veins. It was as if all her senses were heightened, unnaturally so, and the colors of the LusciousLockian twilight had become ten times as vibrant. She let go of the door handle, and turned around in dread.

Only a hundred meters away, just outside the forest edge, stood the monster. Imposing, terrifying, and enormous, the creature and its rider were staring straight into Lithuania’s eyes. Lithuania slowly pressed her back against the iron door, wishing with all her might she might somehow vanish into the concrete tower. Time had come to a standstill, and gravity had lost its hold. Dry leaves, pebbles, chunks of cement from the concrete tower, and even Lithuania’s hair, all were rising slowly but steadily into the air, like ashes from a flame. And then the rider of the beast raised a blackened hand, and pointed at Lithuania.

The beast charged. Gravity returned. The earth convulsed under the monster’s weight, and Lithuania’s heart leapt into her throat. “FELIX!” she screamed, pressing herself against the door in terror. And then again, she felt her body light on fire—briefly—before she found herself crashing onto the floor, inside the concrete tower and behind the door she had so desperately been trying to open. “What the hell!?” she thought. She had made it inside, but the door was still closed.

“Lithuania!” Felix called out, his head popping out through the trapdoor beneath the stairs. “Where the hell have you been? Get in here, now!” Lithuania scrambled to her feet and jumped into the tunnel. Felix grabbed her hand and led her top speed through the underground passageways.

“Felix,” Lithuania said, glancing at the walls as they sped by, “What is that thing!? And why are the walls—why are they glowing?!” All around her, tiny specks of blue glitter-like light were emanating from the walls, creating an iridescent, otherworldly glow.

“It’s the beast. It makes the magic in the air go haywire.”

“Magic? Are you kidding?” she cried, straining her voice to make it audible over the deafening rumble of the earth.

“Yes, magic. No, not kidding. And we want to be as far away from that thing as possible before it—” he turned to glance at Lithuania mid-run. “Why the hell are all the lights following you?!” Confused, Lithuania turned to look behind her. Sure enough, the tiny specks lining the tunnel walls were drifting towards her, following her as she ran and sticking to her skin.

“How am I supposed to know?” she cried. A cracking sound. Then a fissure splintered its way along the length of the passageway ceiling. “Shit! Are these tunnels safe?!”

“I thought they were!” he said alarmed, tightening his grip on Lithuania’s hand. “We’re going to the vault. We should be safe there!”

“But Timoteo! We have to make sure we don’t leave him in—” And then a dreadful series of pounding sounds rose above the earthquake’s rumble, followed by a crumbling sound that could only mean the concrete tower’s collapse. Then the trumpeting sound was heard, as clearly as if the monster had been in the tunnel with them, and Lithuania felt her body split open.

She shrieked and toppled over. “Lithuania!” cried Felix. Her body was vibrating—blurring—he couldn’t quite tell what the hell was going on, but he released her hand as soon as he felt it turn slimy, and then, right before her eyes, Lithuania disappeared in a burst of sparkling blue light, and in her place appeared—

“OH SHIT!” Felix yelled, covering his mouth. A burnt corpse lied before him, its entrails oozing thick, partially coagulated blood. “LITHUANIA!” Felix cried, completely at a loss. Another trumpeting sound, and the tunnel walls made a loud, cracking sound. Another burst of blue sparkling light, the corpse was gone, and Lithuania was back. “Lithuania what the hell?!” Felix yelled, horrified.

Lithuania looked up at him in terror, her face pale, as tiny specks of light hovered gently around her skin. Felix put his shock on hold, scooped Lithuania up in his arms, and ran, just as the tunnel behind them collapsed in a thunderous roar.

Lithuania felt her eyesight dimming and her consciousness slipping. Whatever had just happened to her body, it had hurt, and had drained her of all her strength. She couldn’t hear anything anymore. The roaring of the earth was nothing but a dull drone in the distance. And Felix, dashing wildly through the tunnels as everything around them fell apart… She knew she was safe with him, and everything would be alright, so long as she remained in his arms...

What she didn’t know was why her body burned every time the monster trumpeted… why the world around her seemed to spin, vanish, then reappear every time her body burned… and she didn’t know why, just now, she had traveled somewhere entirely different… To some other space—in some other world…

A world where she had seen him. Where he had seen her. A world from which, just before she had the chance to open her mouth, she was torn away—and thrust back into her own reality.

A world where Marco was still alive.