Lauren was having a very bad day. Sure, things had gotten off to a pretty unpleasant start when she had overslept and ended up missing the Zoom meeting she’d scheduled to discuss the Environmental Science club’s annual summer trip across the countryside, as well as the appointment she’d booked to have her nails and hair done, and even sending her breakfast up in smoke, but those were things she could manage, as disappointing as they were. However, things had taken a sharp turn from “bad” to “horrific” when a man riding a large horse made of what seemed to be green wind dropped out of the sky in front of her and professed himself to be an ally.
Given that she was being chased by a massive, winged thing that she was sure she had only ever seen in cheesy old cartoons, she didn’t have much of a choice in whether or not to accept his offer of help. On top of that, this man was somehow both strange and familiar at the same time.
She was sure she had never met him before, but something about him felt familiar, as if non-existent memories of him were bubbling beneath the surface of her mind. Despite common sense screaming at her to steer clear of this man, Lauren allowed herself to be swept up along the steed’s gaseous mane. Although it appeared to be a living cloud, the creature felt completely solid, like a block of concrete.
Under different circumstances Lauren would probably have been in awe at the wondrousness of it all, but for right now her heart nearly jumped out of her chest as the horse turned and quite literally began to run into the sky, as if riding the very winds themselves.
Somehow that thought made no sense and perfect sense at the same time, which only made Lauren angrier. This situation was just becoming more and more confusing.
“Who are you?” she shouted to the man in front of her, whose waist she was clinging onto for dear life; she didn’t dare look down, her eyes straight ahead and desperately trying to keep her mind off of how high up they now were, and what would happen if they fell.
“I already knew that you wouldn’t, but I still find it remarkably ironic that you don’t remember me,” he shouted back as the horse galloped over a line of traffic down below. Lauren couldn’t help herself. She glanced below as several confused and amazed cries rang out and saw the drivers staring up at them, jaws agape.
She quickly turned her gaze away. “Why is that ironic?”
“I don’t really think this is the time for explanations, M’lady. Our priority is surviving the night.”
“Just tell me who you are,” Lauren persisted. “And why do you keep calling me ‘M’lady?’”
The man let out a resigned sigh. “My name is Sytris.”
“Citrus? You mean like the fruits?”
“Sai-tris,” he enunciated over the wind rushing in their ears. “And I was a good friend to your parents.”
“My parents never mentioned you before.”
“Well no, they couldn’t have, seeing as they’re dead,” Sytris said with a grimace.
“My parents are dentists. Their shifts end at 5, and they’re going to notice I’m missing when they get home!”
“I meant your birth parents, not your adopted ones.”
“What are you talking —”
There was an angry screech and something came hurtling past them. The wind horse veered sideways with a neigh of indignation. Lauren shrieked as something cold and sharp as a butcher knife grazed her shoulder.
“Again, your questions are going to have to wait, M’lady!” Sytris veered the reins downwards, now sending the horse galloping towards a little pub whose rowdy inhabitants could be heard even from this distance. The thing behind them, which she had believed they’d shaken off their tail, was an ugly stone gargoyle with a wicked face and gleaming white eyes. It looked like a marble statue, which was exactly what she had thought it was before it had sprung to life nearly half an hour ago and began chasing her down the street.
Its cold, lifeless eyes, steely talons and forked tail that swished angrily back and forth would not have been out of place in a horror movie, except Lauren was never a fan of horror movies.
The horse kicked and whinnied once more as the gargoyle soared past them, slashing with its enormous talons. Sytris ducked, then threw something she couldn’t make out in the dimness. The object, whatever it was, connected with the gargoyle’s face, sending it hurtling into the darkness below. It disappeared moments later, swallowed by the darkness of the alley it had crashed into.
“Is it dead?” Lauren asked, though she felt like she knew the answer.
“No, like most magical creatures, gargoyles are extremely durable. It’ll be back.”
“Then how do we get rid of it permanently?”
“Well, I believe that honour would fall to you. Would you mind removing your hairclip?”
“My — what?” Lauren’s hand instinctively moved towards the back of her head, where her long dark hair was held neatly in place by an ornate, multicoloured butterfly clip. She owned a lot of hairclips, but this was by far her favourite. Even now she struggled to remember a time when she wasn’t wearing it. By this point it had probably melded with her hair.
“Yes, that one. Remove it please.”
“Why would I do that?”
“You wanted to know how to kill the beast, didn’t you?”
Lauren glared at him, but her furious staring match was interrupted by the reappearance of the gargoyle. This thing just wouldn’t quit. It was wailing like an upset child, but then Lauren noticed something. As the scene was illuminated by a patch of moonlight that they were passing through, she realized that the gargoyle’s face looked different than before. Something about the carving of its mouth, almost as if it was smirking now as opposed to its original somber expression, and its eyes were now dark green. She was just wondering what had caused the change of its eye colour when yet another gargoyle emerged from below them, which she recognized as the one Sytris had just knocked away. All around them others were soaring up beside them too, gliding through the chilly night air.
“Did it call for reinforcements?” Lauren yelled, her voice rather higher pitched than normal.
“It seems so,” Sytris said dryly.
Once again, though common sense was hissing at her not to, she decided to trust him. Desperate times and desperate measures, and all. Her sleek locks cascaded down her back as she removed her clip, careful to maintain a tight grip on it so it didn’t go spiraling down into the dark alleys of New York City.
“What do I do now?”
The horse careened downwards just as another gargoyle came soaring overhead, claws raking through the air. “Hold it up and say, very clearly, the word ‘Mnemosyne.’”
Another screech signalled the gargoyle’s return, and before either could say another word, the winged beast came soaring around them and slammed into Sytris’s chest. He was catapulted off the horse, tangled up with the gargoyle, who was scrabbling away at him like a mouse attacking a piece of cheese. The duo crashed on top of a nearby roof. Lauren screamed, flailing around as the horse began to kick and jerk violently in midair. Shrieking incoherently, she stowed the clip in her pocket and seized the reins, trying desperately to regain some form of control over the steed.
Lauren pulled fiercely against the reins, and after several long, heart-pounding seconds, she managed to get the beast to resume its steady path. She wheeled around and set the horse on a path towards the roof where they had landed, her fear replaced by determination.
Her eyes burning, she held out the clip and said, “Mnemosyne!’”
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A warm green glow spread over the clip. It became so hot that it felt like her very flesh was melting under the heat. It took every ounce of willpower she had for her not to drop the clip, but it was worth it. Merely a second later the heat and the light both faded, and instead of the clip she was now holding a magnificent, gold-tipped spear with a sleek, greenish-grey shaft.
The shaft was inscribed with many intricate markings, and it seemed to pulse with energy. Every touch of the metal was met with a soft spark, like electricity was coursing through it.
“Oh I am so keeping this,” Lauren said to herself, watching as the golden tip sparkled in the moonshine. With a whip of the reins she steered the horse down to where Sytris was still locked in combat with the gargoyle, who was now being aided by two more of its brethren.
The remaining three were now on her tail, squawking like mutant bats. Sytris seemed to be holding his own fairly well, using something that looked like a mace to fend them off, but every now and then one of the creatures got close enough to slash him, and he let out a hiss of pain. Lauren twisted the spear in her hand to get a better grip, and with her other hand she held tightly to the reins. The horse’s gallops, which sounded like whispers of wind blowing through an open window, led her directly into the heart of battle. Closer and closer she got, her own gargoyles still marking her very closely, until she was directly on top of Sytris and his foes. Somehow she knew what to do, although she had no idea how.
She slammed the base of the spear down onto the rooftop, and a clap like thunder shook the very building. A bolt of electricity, fierce and golden like the rays of the sun, erupted from the point of contact, spiraling out like a spider’s web.
It was both magnificent and terrible. The lightning struck at every gargoyle, whose deafening screeches of agony filled the air as the electricity coursed through them. Their bodies exploded, leaving only traces of dust and stone and a smell of ozone in the air.
“Impressive,” Sytris said. His odd robes looked as if they had passed through a shredder, and his face and arms bore innumerable gashes that had rivulets of golden blood oozing out, but his face bore an expression of immense pride.
“Thanks,” she said. “Now get me the hell out of here.”
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Within a few hours the hustle and bustle of New York City was behind them, and now they seemed to be entering a more rural region. The asphalt roads gave way to grassy fields, red dirt roads and clusters of trees. Lauren looked around, drinking in the sights; she had never been this far out before, even on her Environmental Science trips. The horse’s direction changed now: instead of climbing higher, they seemed to be drawing steadily closer to the ground.
“I appreciate you rescuing me and all, but this is really not where I wanted to spend the first day of my summer vacation.”
“That’s fine, we’re not staying long anyway.”
“Why are we even here?”
“To pick up the last of your siblings.”
“Here we go again,” Lauren groaned, rolling her eyes. “First I’m adopted and now I have long-lost siblings. Just great. Listen, how about you just let me off at the nearest bus stop? I’ll be fine on my own after that.”
“I would never dream of it,” Sytris said, in a tone of mock incredulity. “Abandoning you in the middle of the road! Your parents would have had my head if they ever discovered I even entertained the very thought.”
“My parents don’t know you! I’m pretty sure if they were friends with a guy who rides a flying horse they would have mentioned it at some point!”
“No, your adopted parents wouldn’t have, because they were doing it to protect you.”
“Forget it!” Lauren said shrilly, throwing up a hand.
“I know you don’t believe me, but I’m telling you the truth. Melissa and Andrew Combs were very glad to take you in when you were younger, and I would never deny the fact that they have been wonderful parents to you for your whole life, but they are not your birth family. This isn’t even your birth planet. You hail from a world called Algyria, a fruitful and beautiful dimension inhabited by gods.
“Gods who held dominion over all sorts of places and concepts. Weather; agriculture; seasons and the skies. Almost everything imaginable had a god who ruled over it.
“Unfortunately that changed when our barbaric neighbours invaded our homeland and slaughtered most of our people.”
“‘Our people,’” Lauren repeated in a scoffing tone. She had listened to everything he said with an eyebrow raised, her tone one of sheer disbelief.
“Yes. I told you earlier that I was a good friend to your parents, but I was also their trusted servant. When the dark gods raided our lands they tasked me with bringing you and your siblings to safety. But nowhere on Algyria would have been safe from those monsters. So I brought you here, to Earth. It was the least magical place I could find, so there was less chance of them tracking you here. And once I arrived, I began to scout for families I believed worthy enough to take you in, then I separated the five of you.
“It was one of the hardest things I’d ever done, splitting up the only remaining legacies of the house I pledged my life to, but I would rather have seen the remnants of my masters’ bloodline split up, unaware of their past, than dead. I kept watch over you five for years, sticking to the shadows as per my agreement with the parents who agreed to keep you.”
“Not that I believe a word of what you’re saying, but if this is true, then what changed? You were so desperate to keep us apart and now you’re trying to bring the gang back together? Why?”
“I’ve noticed some disturbing signs,” said Sytris. “It seems something is about to happen — though I’m not entirely sure what.”
“Gee, that’s helpful.”
“But either way, it wasn’t my decision to bring you all back together. Fate is sometimes a wicked thing, and what she wants she will get. Two of your brothers met today, despite their parents’ best efforts to remain apart. They were attacked not too long after, and the same thing happened to you.
“What we feared for over a decade has come to pass, so our only course of action now is to bring you back together and prepare you for the fight that is coming.”
Lauren was silent, digesting the news. It was rather like swallowing a corkful of sour-tasting medicine. She wanted to laugh and scorn, to dismiss everything he was saying as nonsense, but they were quite literally riding a horse made of air across the countryside. It was pretty hard to dismiss his words as impossible given the circumstances, but it was still so hard to believe, much less to accept….
“Buckle up,” said Sytris, after what felt like hours. “We’re approaching.”
“Approaching where?”
“Not where — who. Your brother, Nokk. But on this world, he’s known as Oscar Medina.”
The horse galloped to a halt, touching down on a pavement made of peach-coloured stone. Ahead of them was a cluster of small, square houses.
“You can wait here if you like,” said Sytris. “If you need a minute to —”
But Lauren was already sliding to the ground. For one, she was sick of flying — or riding through the sky, however you described it. And for another, a part of her was eager to meet this boy, the first of four supposed siblings whose existence had been kept from her.
“Which house is it?”
Sytris looked mildly surprised, but in answer he pointed to a small house just across the street with a dull yellow paint job, flat roof, and a lawn in dire need of trimming. Lauren fixed her clip back into place, squared her shoulders and set off across the pale pavement, Sytris in tow.
As they reached the front steps Lauren was surprised to see that there was light behind the windows. Well, she supposed that was better; at least they didn’t have to force anyone out of their beds. Lauren raised a hand and after a moment’s hesitation, rapped smartly against the wooden door.
They waited for about two minutes but there was no response. Lauren looked at Sytris, who shrugged. She knocked again. Then after another two minutes she knocked again, far more roughly. At last the door opened.
A tall boy with curly black hair emerged in a white tank top, with a single earring glittering at his left ear. He was handsome, but he had a rather dull look about him that matched his house. His bright green eyes were unfocused and he had bags underneath them.
“Can I help you?” he said. His voice was deep and husky, and his words were rather slurred. Coupled with the stench that had blasted them in the face when he opened the door Lauren had a strong feeling that she knew what had been happening here.
“Have you been drinking?” she asked, and even she was surprised by the sternness of her tone. She was forcibly reminded of her own mother.
“What, are you like a cop or something?” the boy asked, and even as he spoke he stumbled a little, having to lean on the door frame to remain upright. “What’s it to you?”
“I just — aren’t you too young to be drinking?”
“Sorry Mom,” said the stranger, waving his arms in faux shame. “It’s midnight. What do you two want?”
“Oscar Medina?” Sytris said, stepping forward before Lauren could respond.
“One and only… well, not really,” he said, screwing up his face. “There’s like two other Oscar Medinas in the city.”
“It’s very good to see you again, Oscar.”
Oscar peered at him, as if trying to recall something. “Have we met?”
“When you were very young, yes. My name is Sytris. And this” — he gestured at Lauren — “is Lauren Combs. There is quite a hefty bit of explaining to do, but Lauren here is your sister. If your parents are home I’m sure they’ll be happy to vouch for everything I say. I know this will come as a bit of a shock, but neither of you come from this world, Oscar. You are both residents of another dimension, called Algyria. A place where gods are born and magic thrives.”
Oscar gazed at them with an eyebrow raised, a crooked smirk on his lips. “Magic?”
“It sounds unbelievable, I know. But believe me, if you would give us the chance we can explain everything.”
“Magic,” Oscar repeated, this time with a little giggle. “You mean like this?” He wiggled his hand at his side, and a soft purple light began to spread from his fingers, like the fluid inside a glow stick. It rippled in the air, coiling and wriggling like worms, and before their very eyes it took shape, forming a perfect replica of a bright red apple in his palm. Oscar held it up, a look of childlike pride etched across his drunken face.
Lauren stared, taken aback. She looked to Sytris, but if she had hoped for an answer she was out of luck. He too was gaping at Oscar, flabbergasted, his mouth opening and closing wordlessly like a fish out of water.
Oscar opened the door a little wider behind him, still grinning. “You guys want to talk inside?”