Many years have passed since me and my father have spoken. When I turned two and twenty I refused to take over my fathers employment plans for my future. My father is and I guess now was a wealthy man. He ran several estates and was likely to be named a new viscount if his temper ever subsided enough for him to be a pleasant man. My father was never an easy person to work with. The king himself figured this out, however, my father could turn a gold coin into a chest if given the chance. He could turn a famine into the most lucrative food source around. My father once even profited from losing three ships in a bad storm. How? No one knows, but my father somehow did it.

Now I am being told by this boy. This messenger who was sent to find me out and tell me that my father is dead. This boy must have known my family for he is on the edge of crying. Me. I’m feeling a mixture of things. Relief, loss, anger, and maybe even at the brink of laughter. For you see, my father has made me head of his household. My father who banished me to this piece of dirt that I have been at for five years. My father who said I would not be worthy of the worms on his lands to eat of my flesh once I have passed away from ruin. My father my nemesis in life. The thorn in his side and mine. He has now made me the very thing I refused to be. The worst of it is now if I don’t take up this mantle my mother and sisters will be of ruin and no prospects of marriage. He has now had the last laugh. Knowing I will step up to save my family.

I now hold the house ring. Riding in a carriage back to my family estate to await my life I didn’t want. The ring a black Onyx wrapped in gold with a raven in the middle. This decision has not made me unprepared because my father made me prepared for anything from the time I could walk and talk. I just know from this day forward I will turn into the very thing I tried so desperately to destroy …..my father. I will go mad. I will become dead on the inside. I will become my father because he is inevitable. My father my keeper.

I’ve always been a hopeless romantic. In high school English we all got assigned that stupid class reading of Romeo and Juliet. You know the one where the teacher gets to humiliate the class jock on being Mercutio and read lines aloud. Well, I loved it! All the stories of old Tristan and Isolde, Alladin and Jasmine, beauty and the beast all retelling, and even the modern ones. I loved it so much that I majored in it when I got into college. That’s where I met her.

Hallee was everyone’s best friend. You couldn’t resist her charm. She had this way of talking to you. A way that you would find yourself listening for hours and hours and before you knew it she knew all of your secrets too. Like a charmed serpent you began to tell her everything about yourself. She would never use those secrets and details against you. That’s why she was everyone’s best friend. A kind soul. A rarity that everyone searches for.

Hallee was beautiful. No other way to describe it. She had light brown hair that was the length every female strived for in life. She had caramel honey eyes. Athletic body from track in high school.The best part was her smile. She had a little crooked tooth on her top row that made it not perfect, but also complementing her whole face to be approachable and breathtaking at the same time. She made the other girls envious, but also secure in themselves as well. I never knew how she could do it. A friend would wear a dress and Hallee would wear something similar making the friend enviously insecure, but Hal’s would find the most endearing compliment that you ended liking yourself all over again. Not just the girls in the groups, but she could make the most insecure guy fell like he was Prince Charming. It was like watching your favorite movie play out in front of you every time.

I fell in love with her instantly. Not just for her looks or her wonderful personality, but just the essence of her. Like I said romantic. Halle didn’t notice me right away. We were not in the same circles on campus nor did we have mutual friends as of yet. I was a freshman. Not a shy a freshman, but one that came from a small town and joined the school for its English program and the summer abroad program. That’s where the story takes off.

We both attended Berkeley. She wanted to be an editor of some publishing houses and I studied literary criticism. I was going to write a bio compilation of all the great romantics. To help with my degree I would attend three courses of the summer abroad program for my masters and PhD to Uni of Padova, the Uni of John Cabot, and for my freshman year Cambridge university. I was on scholarship as was Hallee. We both had to be on top of our game to maintain grades and the scholarships. Naturally, wants classes started and being an English major hallee would start to notice me amongst the circles of people and study groups.

I’m not a bad looking guy. I have a sense of style that girls appreciate. I’m average height and some what athletically built. I played every sport I could for my dad. I was never good enough to be scouted, but enough to start on teams and be the outsider jock. Halle started to talk to me just like any body else in her life. The friend, the buddy, the sweet guy from class “who helps me with my notes”. That’s who I started out as. Overtime she became more interested. I’m sad to admit that she asked me out first and I, not the chivalrous one to be the first. I was shocked and stammered quite a bit. It was hilarious for Halle. We went out all second semester freshman year. We both went on the summer abroad program. Me for my major and hallee for her resume.

We did everything we could on the short lived summer. The train to Paris to see the Eiffel Tower. A quick plane ride to Rome to see the colosseum. A few more plane rides and every last dime I could find for our time together. It was all a big whirl wind of a time all they way through sophomore year and even junior year. Our last year as seniors was difficult because I knew I would continue studying and writing while Hallee got her internships and applications ready for the big bad world. I always rooted for every interview and was there for every rejection or acceptance. We all knew Halle was going on to bigger better things. I really was happy for her and was her best supporter even when I knew it would be the death of us. I always knew I loved Hallee more than she loved me. That always lingered in the air. Even our friends hinted at it. So I knew the time would come and it has.

The moment. We are in the farthest part of the library where anyone could scream and the acoustics would drown out amongst the old books. Halle is in my high school hoodie. Her hair is a mess and she has no make up on. I’m trying to focus on what she is saying, but I know how this plays out. She has rehearsed this break up speech for hours I know she did. That’s the type of person she is. She would rehearse so that she was sure that above all else she would lay everything on the table leaving enough facts as to why we are breaking up, but keeping it sweet and loving enough so that I will want to remain friends with her. That’s where it gets fuzzy for me. I focused on her tears and the hiccups in between shuddering breaths. Hallee is first and foremost my friend. All the stories I have ever read where the lovers would rather die than be apart or where the main character can’t bear to live on while the other is gone from their lives plays out in my head, but that doesn’t feel right to me in this moment. I keep thinking as Hallee is half way smiling and half way crying trying to subtlety remove the cry snot from her nose ……..that I would rather have Hallee as a friend in my life then some college memory. I would rather be her friend and watch her walk down the isle in a stunning white dress even if I was not at the end of said isle. I would rather see her holding a baby that has her smile or eyes as a friend than some distant person looking on a photo on Facebook. I would rather have Hallee at my book release in the future with her significant other as my friend than some stranger who left a comment on my goodreads page.

Hallee is looking at me pleading and with hope in her eyes that I will remain in her life as a friend. Not a friend clinging to the hope that one day we will get back together, but as a true friend. I feel every piece of my heart and soul break and mend back together quickly again only to break once more for a repetitive cycle. I hear myself say something like I’m at the far end of the tunnel …

…..“Hallee, I will always be your friend. I will always root for you. I love you!”

And I know even though it might literally kill me. I can be that friend to her. Because it’s Hallee.

In the uppermost part state of Washington is a town called Republic. The town used to be an old mining town. Population is just barely 2k people. I’ve lived here for the last four years. I wonder why sometimes I even moved out here then I will go to my back porch and see the beautiful tree line. The tree line shows the ruggedness of the forest and the tranquility of its stillness. The shades change with the sun. Golden and amber in the morning and blue and emerald in the evening. The seasons change the mood of the forest to me. In the dead of summer it reminds me of the legend the townsfolk tell children so that they will stay clear. My favorite is in the wintertime with its snow and ice. The colors play a Christmas like theme all throughout. Although, I always have the same dream in the winter. Of a woman in this certain spot I’m fond of. She is standing there in a dress and what looks like a cloth covering her hair and face, so I can’t make out who it is. I just get this chill in my spine when I see her. Wakes me up the second her faceless body turns towards me. Making it seem like she needs my attention, but I wake up and roll out of bed with a smile on my face and Have my morning cup of coffee and just go out back and watch the tree line.

I moved here after my divorce of 25 years with my wife Fiona. I came home early one day because of a back ache and found her on the couch being serviced by a mutual friend of ours in the neighborhood. I confronted them and found out this had been going on for a year and some change. Obviously I was devastated. I still break out in a sweat sometimes when the anger of the situation washes over me. The tremors on my hands are uncontrollable. The headaches from the stress make me go cross eyed. My company forcibly retired me based on medical reasons. That’s all in the past now. I simply enjoy a nice quiet life in Washington living off my retirement and the sale of the house. My ex was very accommodating with the divorce. She gave over the house and most of the bank account. We never did have children. Her decision not mine, but I never held that against her.

The forest makes me quiet. The forest makes everything seem tranquil. I venture in once a year. The twins folk tend to stay away for odd reasons. Whispers mostly about how the forest is haunted by native tribesmen of past. I simply enjoy getting lost. Yep, the forest really is my holder of secrets. My escape from the world and it’s demons. My ex no longer bothers me about stuff after the divorce. She used to come up her with a friend or lawyer to ask questions about my well being, but that’s all different now. I’m a better man than I was. I have learned to quiet down thanks to the forest.

Towns folk used to say once you walk into the forest there is no getting out, but I find that peaceful. I told my ex the same thing when I walked in there with her two years ago. There was a spot I wanted to show her next to a small stream. Lovely spot. Deer and other critters frequent the area looking for something to nibble on and get cool drink of water.

Peace and tranquility in the forest. The colors and the sounds it gives as a gift. I enjoy that most. No one can really hear you once you walk in. The acoustics hold in sound for everything inside. I mean you could almost do something crazy and commit a heinous crime and the townsfolk would never know a thing. The sheriffs of the town are small time and they do their best. Nothing much happens around here other than the usual drunk or bear destroying property. Sometimes people go missing in the woods, but they mark up to hikers getting lost or animal involvement. The people blame the legends and of my faceless lady. The sheriffs really do try God bless them.

The forest is my safe haven. My friend. My holder of secrets. The lady however keeps me ever so aware of the grip of the my sanctuary.

Yet ….I still feel a connection with her. Something primal. Something……. More!

“Ok so you will take this for 15 miles and take exit 46 on to Henderson road” says Mallorie from the passenger seat.

“Right! That would lead me straight to Tuscany avenue and up the hill of 11563 Alfi drive towards the villa.” I mimic with the same cheerful tone.

Mallorie swats at my arm and adds “ok I’ll stop with the backseat driver directions. You obviously looked over the maps.”

We are headed to a friend’s going away party tonight in villa outside of the city. The host is Mallorie’s ex boyfriend who rented an Air BnB villa for the occasion. Not my usual thing, but Mallorie really wants to say goodbye to Amy the ex boyfriend’s sister. Amy is leaving for a job in London and this will more than likely be the last time we see her. I’ve met Amy a handful of times. Over double dates and coffee meetups and birthdays of mutual friends. I like Amy. I don’t like Amy being related to Adam who is the ex to Mallorie. Mallorie and Adam were high school sweethearts. They both went to different colleges and basically grew apart. To me, there is a lot of unresolved tension and loose ends. Neither of them really broke it off. They just simply took time apart and that time grew more and more. They kept in touch and always exchanged pleasantries during the holiday seasons. I’ve expired my chances of question about the ex and I guess I’m just left feeling insecure about it. I believe Mallorie notices moments throughout our relationship, but she never really digs deep into it.

Mallorie and I have been dating for two years. We are right at the bubble of should we get engaged or should we wait one more year. The tension lately has been bumpy every time someone mentions rings or engagements. I’ve brought my questions and I’m returned with a nonchalant answer or swat on the arm saying how romantic I am.

“Remind me again Mal, why we left two hours early for a party that’s only 40 mins away?” I ask sarcastically. I fully know the answer. Mallorie has a tendency to attracting bad luck. She thinks that on the way we will get a flat or get lost. That the cosmos will send lightening and thunder on this sun shiny day to make her late, which it might actually happen. From time to time the sporadic bad luck hits us. I tease her a lot about this complex. Honestly I don’t mind it. She’s very kind and punctual to all of her friends and this is a way she copes with the anxiety of possibly letting them down. To my knowledge she never has.

Mallorie is looking at me sardonically and crosses her arms.

“Ok, ok I will drop it……for now!” I give her a wink and focus back on the road.

“I know you think it’s silly, but ever since eighth grade my routine has served me well!” She justifies with a confident nod.

I heave a heavy sigh and begin, “Do I have to talk to him?” I ask begrudgingly.

“I mean the guy just seems to pick me apart. From my job to my style of clothes. Like last time Adam asked what my favorite band was and I said at the moment… and he cuts me off all superior and adds “at the moment, Beck come on, don’t be that guy!” I mean what guy was he implying I was being?” I look over at Mal pleading and giving my best pouting face.

Mal begins, “Beck please! Just be the bigger person. It never comes across that way to me when he talks to you. Adam is just wants to get to know things about you. We barely see him and he hears everything from Amy, so I am sure he just curious about who you are.”

I look ahead at the oncoming traffic. It looks like a small wreck is slowing the highway down.

“You see! You see! This is why I leave early!” Mallorie says triumphantly.

I look at her now sitting in the passenger seat. She is wearing a green two piece outfit. Her brown hair is pulled back into a styled clip. Letting some bangs accentuate her face and drawing you into her lovely green eyes. Wearing gold hooped earring and gold chained necklace. Shades of pink lipgloss is on her lips. She looks stunning. I’ve always been dumbfounded on how a guy like me got her attention.

I laugh out loud at her excitement and concede to her being right.

The car is idling in traffic while the cars are being moved slowly to the side. One accident tends to always start another one with looky loos.

My insecure self is sitting there thinking about all the what if’s in our relationships. I’ve been doing this a lot lately. I guess the pressure of marriage or the idea of marriage is making me question things. Not about my love for Mal, but her love for me really?

I look over and ask, “Did you ever notice me in our senior lit class?”

“What do you mean?”

I ask again, “Did you ever notice me. Like, before I made myself known to you by ways of awkwardness and my random seating choices?”

Mal looks at me quizzically and quickly changes her face to a calmer one.

“I didn’t really notice anyone. I wasn’t looking around the room for dates at 8am my senior year of college. At that point I was just trying to survive!” She laughs a little and tucks a bang behind her ear.

I don’t feel satisfied with that answer. “Would you have noticed me otherwise?” I begin again.

“Beck?” What’s this about?”

I quickly guard up “Nothing! I was just thinking the other day that if I hadn’t knocked your notes out of your hands by accident that we would have never met.”

“You never thought to talk to me?” Mal joked.

“Mal! Did any guy in class talk to you? I mean look at you! You are 10 on most guy’s scale. I would bet money that any guy in that class would take his arm in a bear trap just for you to start up a conversation with them. I know I would have!”

She giggles and shakes her head like she doesn’t believe me. All girls do this. They don’t believe when a guy tells them the level of beauty they are and compares a ridiculous analogy to it.

“You are ridiculous there were like 50 other girls in that class!” She adds confidently

“Yeah and I’m sure they were pretty, but the 15 guys were all looking at you. Myself included.”

“I’m just saying. You didn’t look at me and even took me a few attempts to get you to have coffee with me and talk about our thesis papers.” I point out.

I start to say something and stop myself. Mal notices and raises her eyebrow. She is rolling her fingers as to say come on spit it out…..

“I just feel like I did on our very first date.” I pause to think of my phrasing.

“Spit it out Becks! For like the past month it’s been like this” Mal says annoyed and impatient

“I just feel like I love you way more than you love me. That I was a second choice on the grand scheme of love. I always think of our future, but you only think as far as next week. I feel like if I didn’t make an effort back in college that you would have fazed me out.” I feel my palms start to sweat on the steering wheel and my heartbeat is in my throat. That’s the first time I’ve brought anything like this up. I feel nauseous because she is staring ahead and not blinking. Expressionless.

“What’s your Hangup with Adam?” She throws out so fast that I almost didn’t catch it.

“Who said anything about Adam?” I point out just as fast.

“You are always comparing our relationship to what Adam and me had?” She’s now a little nervous sounding.

“I don’t actually. Just because I don’t like the guy and I mentioned once that I found it odd that you two dated for six years and didn’t even have a break up.” My breathe is coming in short waves and I regret starting this conversation in the car.

“What Adam and I had was something sweet, young, innocent, new, and sappy, but what I have with you is …..is …is.” She is drawing a blank! An actual blank

I’m hurt and shocked that she can’t even come up with an answer “Hmmm. hard to come up with a word for it? Can you even tell me why you love me? I know this is dramatic, but I mean here we are!”

Traffic has been creeping this whole time, but now it’s started to move again and I notice we have about 3 miles to go until our exit.

“Beck. I love you. I do.” She’s searching and frantic in the eyes

“Mal I’m not really cornering you. I’m asking a question. Why do you love me?” And she just keeps looking forward now with her hands palm side up sitting in her lap. Like she’s waiting for the answer to fall into her lap and she can catch it and wave it in my face.

Mal has said she’d love countless times over the year, but I said it first and when i did she hesitated for a second. She eventually added she love me too, but I was always concerned with the pause.

“Look just think about it. We will go to the party and shower Amy with love. I’ll be nice to Adam and when we get home just…… slip me an answer.” I feel like I have an elephant on my shoulders. My worst fear happened so quickly that I didn’t even prepare myself.

Exit 46 approached and I turned the car off the main highway and headed towards the party. In silent and in fear that my girlfriend is slowly becoming less of my girlfriend as she keeps staring ahead for an answer that I doubt will ever come.

Keys can hold freedom or they can take away freedom. Keys hold power and give power. Something so insignificant and small can release a prisoner from his chains. Keys can unlock doors with secrets behind them. They can also lock doors and hide things away. So small and insignificant.

There is an illusion growing up. When we were children we thought the adults held all the power and freedom. We would often hear things like “go to your room” or “you will not go outside today it’s too wet”. That never stopped us from exploring with our minds and having fun. As we got older I’ve noticed children have more freedom than anything, even kings.

Now your brain is thinking of all the horrible things of this world that can change that freedom for a child. I’m not talking physical freedom. A parent can punish the child. A death can steal it from children, but I’m talking of the essence of freedom. Imagination is freedom. Imagination is power. Children have a vast amount of that. It’s only when the child trades that in for the realities of this world that the child loses freedom. A child willingly gives that up.

Think of the last time you played outside and truly enjoyed yourself. Think of the last time you played with friends and imagination ran wild with curiosity of the world. Did you have an imaginary friend growing up? When was the last time you had a conversation with them?

I am an only child. I had loads of imagination and wonder. I would stalk the halls of my home. Playing knights and dragons. Good always vanquishing evil. I never lost a battle. Sliding down the stairs with whatever I could use around me. Giving my mother all kinds of worry about every scrape and new scar I would collect on my adventures.

I gave the staff a heartache and a half with all the trouble I would cause. My tutors made learning exciting. They harnessed my imagination and taught me of the stars and turned history into a full act.

But…….That all changed the day my father died. On his deathbed he gave me this key and told me, “son, you are no longer a child. I need you to become something more than you are. For your mother. For me. For your people.”

That’s was seven years ago. I’m now eighteen. I have to be crowned a true ruler today.

yippe

I’m sitting in the courtyard thinking about all of this. I keep staring down at this key. At my coronation I am to open a box that holds my crown. It’s tradition for us to not see the crown forged for new kings. Each king gets a different version of the same metals and added metals to the new king. It’s symbolic to take what was given and make a new way.

For seven years my mother and uncle ruled as acting regents until my coming of age. My uncle is a frail man and my mother is sweet, kind and not a king. As she reminds me all too often. She hates it. I don’t blame her. I wake in the night full of sweat and stress about it. Today is the day though. I cannot change this no more than I can stop time from ticking. This key is the last thing my father ever gave me and I gave him my freedom and the power to choose.

From here on out I do what others request of me. What they demand of me. What they need of me.

Children really do have more freedom than kings.

James is staring at Sky for far too long. He doesn’t know how to respond to her question. His heart is beating so hard he can feel it in his head and at the ends of his fingertips.

“Well are you going to at least answer me?” Sky says with a firm and definitive tone.

James looks into her eyes. He sees for the first time probably how her eyes the blue has a yellow ring around it and that she has a freckle on her left eyelid. When she is nervous she starts to pull at the fabric on her right side. He just can’t get an answer to form though. He’s nervous of screwing this up. He stammers and scratches the back of his head and breathes a heavy sigh. He backs up two steps and spins in a circle.

“It shouldn’t be this hard to come up with an answer James.” Sky says with a soft and hurt tone this time. Her guard is down and she is allowing herself to feel vulnerable. Which is not something James is used to.

James can feel a small bead of sweat forming from all the stress he is feeling. His breath is shaky and he feels dizzy from the beat of his heart.

“Sky…….Sky it’s not easy. I look at you and I see things. I see where my life could go and that freaks the crap out of me. You scare me.” James says as he is looking everywhere around the deserted parking lot. Any where, but sky’s face now.

“You see things?” Sky ask. “Look at me please. You scare me to. All the guys I’ve been with have left me empty and broken. I have so much baggage, but when I’m with you it seems like all that was small and insignificant. You carry the weight of that baggage like it weighs nothing. So effortlessly. It scares me that maybe you will just drop it all on me and I’ll get crushed worse than I ever have been before.”

James now feeling the heaviness of the conversation looks at Sky and is determined to maintain eye contact and not wuss out. He starts off saying, “Yes, I see things. I see a small apartment because that’s all we can afford. I see a loveseat and a recliner like my old man has that was gifted to us by the sweet old neighbors next to your mom. I see a barely big enough bed for the two us, but that doesn’t matter because we both sleep in the middle with every part of us touching. I see dishes pulling up and you getting frustrated with me because I keep adding to the pile. I see a tired you and a tired me coming home from our crappy jobs to barely cover rent and groceries, but we don’t care that we keep eating ramen 100 different ways trying to make it fancy. I see kids. Definitely years from now and not this minute, but i see kids.” James adds nervously. “I see all of that when I look into yours and you give me that smile.”

Sky’s face turns red. Her heart stammers. Her breathe is heavy and she takes a step closer to James in that deserted parking late.

James takes up the space and grabs her hand and with the other cups her cheek.

Sky says, “once you do this, you can never go back. You understand?”

James swallows hard and breathes in and then kisses her. Pulls back and says “I’m a goner anyways. You already got me.”

As Erik made his way through the forest he could see the outlines to the greatest stronghold man and dwarf has ever built. The clearing is just up ahead and you can see a vast chasm and the bridge of Virtus.

It’s been months of a long journey for Erik. A messenger came to town. Announced that the royals of the land Dapsilis was looking for a new champion. Three different contests would be held.

A contest of the strength with sword and hammer. Winner will be knighted on the spot and be given land and titles along with a high position in the army.

A contest of speed and maneuverability. Winner will be granted position of high scouts and spies for army with a military income.

A contest of skill of accuracy with the bow and spear. Winner will be awarded a seat on the military council and would apprentice under the ambassadors of peace.

Erik whose family was wiped out by blithe and winter storms had no farm left and no kin to rely on. This could be his big shot. The contest was at the end of the year and without a horse it would take six months to reach his destination. He knew he could hunt with bow and spear for food along the way. Maybe even sell some of the game he acquired along the way.

Erik made his mind up in a matter of seconds of what he wanted to do. He would enter the contest of skill.

Then as he made his way to clearing Erik viewed the stronghold of Invicta and for first time had second thoughts of his talents. The massive size of the stronghold. The engineering that would be needed to make such a height. Erik was at a loss for words. He shook his head and thought to himself what choice do I have? He put one foot in front of the other and headed forward towards his destiny

I can’t breathe!

My chest feels too heavy to breathe!

Just breathe Clara. Just. Breathe.

It’s dark. I can feel my toes and fingers. I can move a little. Everything feels stiff and cold.

“Come on out Clara Grey”, says a voice far off

Who said that! Move! Move yourself Clara! Why can I not move?

“Clara come to us!” The voice says deep and velvety

Who are you?! What do you want?! I cannot move!

“Clara just open your eyes and come out” the voice sounding almost melodically and sounds of others in the background

Why? Just leave me alone! Can you not see I am unable to breathe or move!

“You can do it Clara. Don’t be afraid.” The voice now sounding so close it could be right next to me.

I’m not afraid you Buffoon! I cannot move!

at that moment Clara’s eyes shot open and her arm struck straight up

“That’s it Clara awaken” the voice says now excited

I can see candles all around me. I can see gray walls and a gray roof. My body is very stiff, but I start to sit up. What awaits me is a row of people dressed all in black on their knees. The voice is a young man. A beautiful pale young man with the lightest blue eyes I have ever seen.

“Clara try to be as calm and relaxed as possible” the young man says

I croak out “where am I?”

The young man gives me a maniacal smile and says “back in the living.”

Back in the living? I look around the room and realize where I am and I look down at my stark white hands!

I cry out a blood curdling high scream “AHHHHHHHH!”

“No. no. no.”, Ashley says firmly. Looking at the corner of the room she says, “this is where the cake will be displayed”. Pointing as speaks with a brisk walk closer to the corner area. She continues, “over here is where the bridal party will be”. A satisfied grin is on her face as she pictures the day. The planner is writing all of this done as they are talking and discussing about the day in the luxurious ballroom.

“Great!” Says Nancy the party planner. She just finished writing all of the details out. She looks nervous as she begins her last question. “Ashley? Where is your fiancé? I thought he was joining us to finish up the seating arrangement?” Ashley is in her own little world staring up at the chandelier as it catches the light from the giant windows looking out over the vineyards. “Ashley?” Nancy says anxiously again. “He was supposed to, but he got held up in another meeting. Something about new info dropping and big tech moving in.” She add said briskly. She thought to herself, “he’s always busy.”

Nancy begins to pack up her things and says, “well darling I have another client across town and should really be going. Email me the final touches of the things we discussed. Only two more months my dear.” Ashley’s smile cracks a little and she thinks “yeah only two more months to hang on to this runaway train.” She quickly gains composure and adds, “that’s fine Nancy. Thank you again for coming out. I will get everything to you by the end of the week. I’m going to stay a bit longer.”

Nancy nods her head and walks out already on the phone talking with her assistant about the next meeting. As she leaves Ashley is simply admiring the ballroom and all of its extravagance. The sound of the wood flooring as she walks around. To the color of the tapestries on the walls. To the good details on all of the paintings. This is the oldest vineyard. Owned by an estate that was controlled by a rich and well off Italian family who rents out the place from time to time to the elite. Ashley was no elite but her father is. He ran many media outlets such as magazines, websites, tabloids, and basically any gossip rag you can touch. Which made him well known and in the know.

Ashley play a song her phone out loud for the acoustics of the room echos on the walls around. She begins to sway and dance a bit picturing herself in a wedding gown. She daydreams of her wedding day always, but the groom doesn’t always make an appearance. Ashley isn’t marrying for money or sustainability, but for her father and only for her father. Her father is dying and she simply can’t stand the thought of him dying before she is married of to the “love of her life”, so simply Ashley picked the guy and went with it. Her fiancé isn’t all that bad. He’s driven and loyal. He comes from a good family and is right. Yes! Right! That’s the word to describe, but Ashley knows she doesn’t love him. Not like she should anyways. Thoughts of her dad and the memories they share cross her mind and she just keeps thinking to herself, “marriage will be what’s right and put one last smile on daddy’s face”. The thought sends a pain in her stomach the finality of it all. Ashley shakes her head and wipes a tear from her eye and continues to dance to the dang in that lovely ballroom. Thinking of better times and happier moments.

Family game night. A simple thing right? Well not really in my family. My family have a different tradition of game night. I know most families enjoy a nice maybe even hostile game of monopoly. Maybe the game is risk with strategy and precise moves. I wish we could just play a game of twister and let it be just that. Sadly no.

My family have powers. Each one of us has a different and unique power. Some call it magic with in certain circles or it’s called by others spell-casting, but I can assure no words are spoken. I wouldn’t call us mutants or wizards. We are just us.

Coming from a long line of Graces we are well known within our circles. As far as I have known there are 15 families. That doesn’t sound like a lot but we never marry outside the circle. The families have at least three children and to make things withstand each family has to have a girl with each generation. The generations have stretched since mythology times. Apollo was a Grace. King Midas is how we funded the first families and the finances for future generations. Merlin was not just anybody. Morgana was not just the sister to King Arthur. Gilgamesh was not as old as everybody makes him out to be he just had the power to time travel. A curse too because every time he jumped it aged him one year out of two hundred. Poor Gil he was told too late in life by his father. Who unfortunately had the power to see the future, but had the worst memory. You see every power in our families has a downside as well. Like a balance.

We have a hard time connecting with normal people so we mostly keep to ourselves. We are very rich and so we can keep to ourselves as well. King Midas like I said helped us out and other family members over time have had similar powers. No one family is all powerful and that’s thanks to the family game night.

Every ten years a game night is held. Over the years it’s had other names. I mean how do you think the olympics really started. The game night is really a test to see who holds control over the families from going too crazy and try taking on the world. We have had outbreaks with certain teenagers over time and the family has had to lay the law down.

Tonight is the inevitable game night. Night really isn’t the right description. The game starts at 12:00 am and ends at 11:59pm and not a minute over. The whole twenty four hours is the game stretched all over a given location that changes every decade. Every family appoints five members of proper age to participate. I was chosen this time around. every family has its unique ways of picking members to play. My family simple cast ivory dice. Other families I know such as the Michaels who use electric shock treatments to determine the losers or winners within their family.

I bet your wondering what my power is. Well I am Vincent Grace the eighth. I’m the oldest of four. I have two sisters and a brother who is 11 months younger than me. We are Irish twins so to speak. My power is matter manipulation. I can turn objects into whatever I can imagine. There is a science to it, but that’s really difficult to explain. It involves a lot of alchemy and spells and magic and yada yada. My brother Tyler Grace can shape shift to any animal …mostly mammal we believe. He hasn’t done anything else as of yet. Each child usually gets his/her powers at age 5 sometimes 6 depending the strength of the power. Usually the power is kept secret from other families, but word gets around with most of the families all getting along with each other. My power holds great responsibility with the games. Now you are wondering are the games to the death and the answer is no. It’s more like a game of tag. Injury is typical and death is rare but can still happen. I mean we are humans with power what do you expect. The winner is decided by out lasting the others. That’s why the families choose who goes into the games. You wouldn’t want a guy like Aquaman in the desert. He would lose so quick.

Back on point. Tonight is the Games and we are in New York City. I’m trying not to be too cocky because I mean NYC has so many things and places too manipulate. As the hours tick down the circle of location shrinks. By the end it’s like a two block radius. This is to prevent someone from hiding the whole time.

We know who our opponents are 15 families and 5 members from each so 75 players. That’s a lot of players to beat. The one I’m nervous about is Emery Faith. I know I know Grace-Faith…. Fate but no it’s just a coincidence. Emery has the same power as me. Which not uncommon but unusual for the same generation to have the same power.

Tonight should be fun.