If I Trust Enough

Chapter One

I Thought You Were Dead

‘…’: (regular) thoughts

[…]: Thought (telepathy)

~!~

“Kirra…Kirra—”

[What?!] Kirra Thought, exasperated, [I’m kinda busy now.]

“Someone is here to see you,” he said impassively, but yet he left a tantalizing hint on the edge of his words. She opened her eyes and glared at Sirksi where he stood leaning lazily against the door frame to the stark white practice room. Only he would dare disturb her at a time that she was practicing for a tournament—and this one wasn’t just any tournament, it was the Tournament; the Tournament, the one involving every World’s ten most powerful Kamons. Currently she was working on stretching her Power reserves to their maximum—making sure that she was containing as much Power as was physically and mentally possible. “I think it would be beneficial to you to greet them.”

She shot her teacher a withering look, [Does it involve the Tournament’s officials?]

“No.”

[Does it involve any of the competition?]

“No.”

[The exact date of the Tournament?]

“No…”

[Dinner?]

He rolled his eyes, “No Kirra…”

She closed her eyes again and settled into an even deeper concentration as she now began to fill the newly created recesses of her reserves with the raw Power that filled every corner of the Universes, [Then it’s not worth my time is it?]

Sirksi sighed and stood straight. “Kirra…you will come and greet them and you will be polite and you will not complain; got it?” his words held a definite bite to them. Kirra let a bit of Power lose and the lights flickered dangerously; she cracked one eye open and looked at him daringly. He laughed sourly, “You know that doesn’t work on me.” The lights returned to their original, blinding white glare.

“If I fail horribly I’m blaming you.”

Sirksi looked at his apprentice like he was homicidal. “You won’t fail; you and I both know that already! How many times must we go over this?” He rubbed his temples and sensed Kirra standing up and brushing past him.

“Where are they then?”

“In the front library.”

She cast him an odd look but asked nothing; she would find out why these people deserved as much respect as to be met in the front library.

~!~

Lucian tapped his foot impatiently where he stood near the fireplace. He had been asked to come here over a month ago in a very official looking letter. The limousine had arrived that morning, exactly as promised. He had arrived, after being led through an expansive maze of hallways from the back of the large home, in a very impressive living room—if it could even be called something as common.

The mahogany furniture was polished so well he almost wondered if it was real wood. The settees were upholstered in lavish silks with strange, exotic furs draped over them and covering the floor. There was several leather chairs scattered throughout the room as well as a swivel leather chair behind the large desk at the far end. Numerous beautiful oil landscapes hung from the walls between large bookcases filled to the seam with thick, ancient looking books. Yet, despite these luxuries, the room was dim—lit only by a fire and thick curtains drawn over ceiling high windows—and had a very earthy, middle-ages feel to it. 

He glanced over to where Dmitri was sitting, head down, on one of the larger chairs. Lynna was standing over the desk, shifting nosily through several papers scattered over it but not seeming to find much of great interest. They were all fairly well acquainted, having known each other all through elementary school. A boy named Knoton, which he only vaguely recognized from middle school, was walking along the wall studying the books. He pulled out a book at what seemed like random and flipped through it glancing at the pages, seeming puzzled by something. Lucian found himself staring at the ground again, the eerie silence boiling heavily in the room. Suddenly the door across from him swung open. A female voice wafted over, apparently directed towards Lynna and Knoton, “Curiosity killed the ca—” ‘That voice…’The thought shot through all four guests as they immediately shot their attention towards the new occupant of the room.

A teenage girl stood in black pants and a red kimono-like shirt that reached her knees tied at her waist with a black sash. Her thick, dark hair was pulled back in a simple pony-tail with long bangs framing her face. She looked shell-shocked; her bright blue eyes were wide in surprise. “—t…” she finished softly, as if to herself—still staring at them in disbelief.

Dmitri openly gaped, the last time he had heard that voice it had been lowered in anger and hate and directed towards him. Lynna had been with Dmitri that night, listening as that voice struggled to contain the anger held behind the spiteful guise of the girl that stood before them. Knoton was thrown through the memories that had haunted him; the cheerful laughter and the carefree attitude. Lucian stared at her, heart beating faster than it had that fateful morning that seemed so long ago. It had been three years, three very long years since he had heard that voice; seen that face; those bright blue eyes. Three years of painful memories and horrifying dreams and torturous questions of ‘what if…’; three years that could never be erased and came crashing down around him that very moment, threatening to tear down the healing that had slowly taken place.

Kirra took a slow breath, her heart beating wildly. ‘Has it really been so long? Three years!?’ she asked herself as her eyes slowly swept the room, resting on each disbelieving gaze momentarily. ‘Sirksi…why didn’t you warn me...’ she was too dazed to attempt any Thought to him demanding why he did not tell her who she was about to meet again for the first time in three years.

The five teens stared at each other for several long, drawn out moment. None of them dared break the silence for fear that what was really taking place before their eyes was the real thing, not just some freakishly realistic dream. Lucian blinked slowly, carefully formed a legitimate statement in his mind, and laboriously forced his dry mouth to work, “I thought you were…dead…”

His words hung heavily in the air. They could almost hear the creaking tension as the words teetered perilously over the abyss between the reality of confirmation and the perfect bliss of their own imaginations. Kirra turned her steady gaze towards Lucian, ‘Do I have to tell them the truth?’ a remorseful decision solidified in her mind, ‘I’m sorry…’ she thought to them as if they could hear her. Very cautiously, as if bowling with a glass ball, she took a deep breath and began, “No…I never was…I’ve been here…all along…” ‘I’m sorry…’

~!~

w00t! ^.^ I’ve been wanting to do a story here on fictionpress involving this idea for awhile…and now I’ve finally been able to get it up and going! ^.^ Anyways…tell me what you think; I happily accept constructive criticism, compliments, opinions, whatever!