Thomas Thatcher walked through the grounds, the sun beating down upon the earth; lighting his slight fragile form, back arched with age. He looked out of place in the lush green of the trees, walking out from the old estate house he lived in by himself. It was mid-summer and the sun was warm against his pale, wrinkled skin; but that was how he liked it, it made him feel a little more alive. All around the place were people, something that he was not used to in any way shape or form and they were loud; filling the place with their insistent chatter. There were caterers, maids, butlers, guides, musicians, engineers (for setting up rigs) and entertainment of every kind; they poured into his home, disturbing everything he knew. He had of course tried to keep the entertainment to the kind of thing they would have originally held. So there were trapeze artists and tumblers coming out of his ears, he shook his head gruffly. This should have been a beautiful and peaceful day, a day where he could tend the gardens; for he had always done all the work himself and perhaps make his way to the Ruins himself.

At least things were going well, he looked over everything and couldn’t help but wonder how successful this whole thing would be. His feet automatically took him to the shade-dappled path, leading through the tall arching trees to the ruin itself. Around him he could hear the buzz of people, but not here in the trees, they were not allowed here, not yet. Around the edge of the trees stood guards, to be exact some of the most well paid guards he had ever employed. They had doubled the security for the next couple of days, so the once loyal and faithful outer guards were now on double pay, keeping people where they should be and outside the tall walls stood yet more guards, making sure no one who wasn’t supposed to get in would. His old hands clenched around his cane, that this place should need so much protection seemed unnecessary, but he had been told to take no risks. Not only were his outgoings huge, but also were his incomings, the film crew and the journalists had all had to pay a very high fee to be there.

Jinan moved through the trees silently, he was training, wanting to be ready for the people. Atop his head was a single bell, hanging loose above his brow, a test of how smoothly he could move. The trees were tall and smooth, this part of the forest having the youngest trees, silvery bark having no low branches to hold onto. He flexed his hands, nails digging into the bark, but leaving only tiny puncture marks, nothing that would be noticed so high up. The prey he stalked was large, moving ahead of him unaware it was being so closely watched. His supple muscles allowed him the flexibility he needed to cross the bendy lower branches, only just holding his weight. He moved silently, at all times concentrating on keeping his movements fluid, not wanting the bell to ring at his head and startle his prey. His long tail wrapped around higher branches, giving him extra support as he inched ever closed. His breath was light, moving smoothly in and out of his lungs, barely moving his fine golden fur. He calmly licked his nose, wetting it to keep everything easy and light.

“Tom!” Jinan yelled, sliding down the tree nearest him with surprising speed, at the perfect moment his tail tightened, stilling his decent. His find feet dug deep groves into the tree, though only a few inches long; the parallel slices were bound to be noticed by the visitors. His bell tinkled above his head, hands clutched around the tree and the old man laughed, eyes lit up with mirth. Tilting his head to one side, he wondered why the tough old bird hadn’t been taken into the gate earlier. Yet even as he thought it, he caught a glimpse of gold among the grey hairs; not auburn or blond, but startling metallic hairs. Well he supposed that he would soon be handing the estate over to the winner and he could finally retire.

“Hullo there Mr Osama, I see your doing well today.” He paused, reaching to touch the creature’s soft pelt “I didn’t hear your bell till you were already on me. Never again shall I show you my cat’s collar, it’s allowed you to sneak up on me even easier!” He chuckled to himself, steadying himself with his cane. After all Jinan had shocked him, sending a jolt through him; but he loved the old creature and would never tell him that. Thomas mopped his brow with a cloth from his pocket, it was hot today, even in the shade. The visitors would be arriving in the next hour or so, brought for the most part from the airport in a luxury coach.

“You know you shouldn’t be out here today, there are too many things that could go wrong.” Jinan shifted his weight, lowering himself to the floor on his hind legs. His tails length however remained wrapped around the tree, supporting him. He wondered for a moment how humans could stay on two legs all the time, their balance so precarious. He moved his head to within a few inches of the old mans, almost twice the size, his large luminous eyes watching to see his reaction. Taking in a deep breathy he scented Tom, ahh he was nervous, that explained a lot. Nodding his head, he moved away slightly; not wanting to impose himself on the small creature. Crouching down low, he moved back onto all fours, his hulking size (9 ft 4 when standing, despite the fact he can’t stand strait) coming up to the other mans hips, tail flickering behind him.

“I know, I just wanted to come out and see the old place before everyone arrived.” Sighing he turned, heading back in the direction he had come. “I’m not used to having so many people around any more.” He leaned more lightly on his cane, placing other hand on Jinan’s back for support. The muscles slide seamlessly beneath his fingers and had he not known the creature it would have been quite threatening, but as it was Jinan he knew he had nothing to fear. Slowly but surely he could hear people coming through the trees again, the open paths winding and beautiful. He knew Jinan tended them and every inch of the place was perfect in its beauty.

“I will come and check on you and the guests when you come to see the Ruins.” He spoke with his voice deep, relaxed in the presence of the old man. He had been alone for so long before, he treasured his new friend. “You wont be left alone, have no fear of that.” He brushed his head along the other mans side, a show of affection. Letting the man’s hand slide from his back, he stood on his hind legs again, resting his left hand on a tree for support. He made a short bow, unable to do anything deeper because of his bone structure. This was known to be his farewell and he turned on his front and hind legs once more, moving swiftly through the forest, his feet making little or no sound, he had had over a thousand years to get used to moving about, he need make no sound.

“Thank you.” He said quietly, watching him move away, as ever marvelling at the slick way it’s body moved. He sighed, once more leaning on his cane; but now not so heavily for he felt more confident. He moved out of the trees, seeing almost everything was complete. Looking down at his watch he smiled lightly, they would all be here in the next 15 minutes as long as everything had gone according to plan. This of course was only the first 5; the second load would come later. He said a few small things to the workers as they passed, making sure everything was perfect, just as it should be for the arrival. Then he moved to one side, sitting on an old tree stump, cane balanced between legs. He rested in the sun, letting its warmth soak in and fill him to the core, enjoying the energy he got from such a simple act. His eyes slide open, watching the last few of the entertainers run into the house, leaving the grounds once more clear apart from two helpers, who would guide people into the main room once he was done talking to them.

To his left he could hear the main gates opening and the crunch of tires on gravel. He sighed, tugging at his suit, ill fitting and ill suited, but the best one they could find. He hated to look so serious, used to jeans and a shirt more than anything. He stood slowly, as the came around the gently curving corner.

Ulva arrived in the front of the airport, green backpack tossed over one shoulder. All that she packed fit in this one bag, figuring she would only be there for a few days and if anything re-wear some of her outfits. When she had got out of the taxi, the chill of the wind whipped up her back. She wasn’t dressed probably for Russia’s weather at all, but she had been told the weather around the Ruins of Terran were quite warm and to dress appropriately. She had on a black vintage hat, tan knit sweater, and a pair of jean shorts (outfit). She looked rather ridiculous since snow was only a few feet away from her. She hurried inside to escape the temperature, knowing that by the next time she was outside she would be in a warm climate. Sadly, what Ulva didn’t know was that she had just taken her last steps she would ever take on Russian soil. She walked up to the ticket claim inside, the attendant printing out her slip. She passed through the metal detectors and went on into the terminal.

“Ulva Vydrina” a speaker called out over the intercom in the Russian airport, “Go to gate 32 for traveling information.”

Ulva had only been inside the terminal for a few seconds, plane ticket in hand, and already things seemed a bit strange. Whether it was good timing on her part, or possibly someone watching her to know she was there, she followed the instructions of the voice. Lets see... I have everything I need, even the name of the man who is supposed to pick me up once I arrive at my final destination... what other traveling information do I need? These thoughts ran through her mind as she passed by each gate, 32 being the last one at the end of the airport.

A large man with a plump belly and just as plump of a smile seemed to recognize her, waving at her from a distance. He was standing near the Gate 32 sign. Ulva turned her head to look behind her, unsure if he was waving at her or someone else. But no one else was near her, it had to be herself. Alright, nothing to worry about... maybe I have the wrong ticket she thought, trying to reassure herself during the short walk to this unfamiliar man. Already she was missing the comfort of her family, her parents.

“Ulva Vydrina, you Lucky Draw, you!!” he said, shaking her hand in jubilation, his cheeks as rosy as a tomato. Alright, so he knew where she was going.. must have been publicized without her knowing.. “I’m with the Russian Bureau of International Affairs. Seems that you, my dear, will be representing our country on the international level. All the eyes in Russia will be watching you,” he said, as if this was a great opportunity. It was a great opportunity, but the thought of her being on television had never crossed her mind until now... and it nearly made her heart jump out of her chest. Public speaking, having all eyes on her... these things she never was particularly comfortable with, seeing herself as a rather awkward young woman at times in new situations.

“I.. uh, yeah, I’m not sure what to say,” she said, unsure what his intentions were of meeting her here.

“Ulva, you being the only Russian means that you have to make our country look good. There are still many people out there that hold resentment for the old Soviet Union and the Cold War. A fresh, young face like yours will do our nation a great deal of positive PR. I just need you to sign these forms saying that you will basically not do anything reckless to slander the country or cause shame to the government and people,” he said, reaching into his plum colored jacket and handing her a clip board and pen. Ulva took the paper and skimmed over it, eyes shaky with nerves... Of course she would never do anything to make Russia look bad, but the pressure and this official paperwork was freaking her out. “What if I..” she tried to ask him, but before she could finish her sentence he seemed to know what she was going to say. “If you do break this contract, you will face police charges on your arrival back home.”

Her bottom lip dropped a bit, quivering slightly.. this whole experience didn’t seem so fun anymore. “I won’t do anything to jeopardize our country, I promise,” her voice squeaked, then signed the papers where there was a line for her signature.

“Well then, just see these papers as a formality. Have a great time,” he said, and with that, he patted her on the side of her arm and began to walk away, leaving her there dumbfounded. She found a seat near the gate as she waited to board the plane, sitting the rest of the time in silence. Would other people who were Lucky Draws have to sign similar papers or was it just her country? And if that was so, then wasn’t he being hypocritical on the fact of how they have ‘changed so much for the better’ since the Cold War? Sheesh. Threatening to press charges on her wasn't very welcoming. The intercom sounded again, but this time it was saying that passengers of Flight 08, gate 32 could board the aircraft. She sighed in relief, glad to get out of the stoic colored walls of the airport’s inside. "Bye home.."

------

When Ulva got off the plane, she didn’t have to go to the baggage claim. Her green backpack passed as a carry on. She went straight to the airport doors, a blanket of warm air hugging her skin as they opened, causing tiny hairs on her arms to rise. “Mmm,” she hummed, stretching out her arms and closing her eyes for a brief moment, soaking in this heat which was so foreign to her. Shortly after she let out a yawn; after spending numerous hours on the plane she was tired. A man by a very nice black coach car held a sign up with her name on it. She looked down at a piece of paper in her hand, wondering if that was Fredrick Dury. But I guess it really didn’t matter, she would be leaving with this man no matter what. There was no where else to go.

“Hi, I’m Ulva,” she said with a faint smile, genuine but shy. The man nodded, opening up the back door of the luxury coach for her to get in. “Thank you!” she said, slipping into the back seat in a swift slide. The man shut the door behind her gently, then made his way back to the driver’s seat. “Is it just me? Where are the other Lucky ones?” Ulva asked, looking forward at the rearview mirror to see the eyes of the driver looking back at her.

“The others will be picked up by their own coach, not all of your flights come in at the same time,” he said, which made enough since so she didn’t press the matter any further. The rest of the ride there was quiet, Ulva spending most of her time enjoying the views from the car window. Everything was so green and lush and alive compared to the winter colors that painted Russia’s canvas. The ride was taking a while, and by the time it appeared they arrived at the main gates Ulva’s eyes were heavy. The feeling of the car stopped caused her to let out another yawn. Coffee would help, yes, hopefully they had coffee here. The driver parked the coach, then ran around the side of the vehicle to open the door for her. “Thanks, again,” she said, but his expression was statuesque.

“What do I do? Where am I supposed to go?” she asked him, and he pointed towards an old man dressed in a suit who was standing solo. He looked like the same elderly man she saw on television. She got that nervous feeling in the pit of her stomach again, but walked forward with a smile on her face to try and mask her nerves. She was a friendly person, after all.

“Hi, um, excuse me! I’m Ulva, one of the Lucky Draw...” she said, as if that would be enough information for him. Hopefully it would be. She waited patiently for his response, all the while looking at his cane and the slow motions his fragile body was making.

On a coach bound for the Ruins of Terran there was at least one person who didn't show obvious signs of excitement or joy. He sat alone two rows from the back with his dark grey overnight bag sat in the seat beside him and his nose buried in a novel entitled "Jenevieve the Grey". It was an emotional thriller, similar in many ways to his own books. Perhaps that was why he read them but he didn't think so. Though the two were similar in terms of genre, each writer had their own particular style and he loved this one in particular. It was the third he'd read of this particular authour in no less than a fortnight and he intended to finish it before arriving. No doubt that he'd be too busy while there to do much reading. Writing, on the other hand, he could always find time for and this may well prove to be the journey to break the creative block he'd been encountering so frequently these days. He couldn't understand why the trouble had began, it was never like this in the beginning; back in the days when writing came as naturally as walking. He pushed the thoughts from his mind, not wanting to distract himself further, but the memories of how he had come to be here forced their way in again.


He had been at home, as usual, when the letter arrived. Early morning post and he was already hard at work. Or at least trying to be hard at work. The writing block had been predominant for a few weeks at this point and he found himself sat for hours on end simply staring at his computer screen as though willing a story to weave itself. On this particular morning he rose up from his office and traipsed downstairs to pick up the mail. A bill, another bill, letter from his agent, another bill and... Something new. He frowned as he examined the envelope, not recognising the logo or the area it may have come from. Definitely not a bill though.

A fan? A publisher? He didn't know. So he walked through to his spacious living room and sat down on the sofa, leaning forward to open a small drawer that housed his only remaining sentiment of the Fatherly bond he had never truly known. The bronze-coated dagger served well as a letter opener. With a fluid flick of the blade the paper was sliced and the letter contained therein slid out into his waiting hand. It was then unfolded and read. And the further Demetrius Florentia read the wider his eyes grew. He thought there must have been some kind of mistake and he checked the address again. Definitely for him. He was perplexed to say the least. In fact, he utterly dumbfounded. He didn't know how to react, he didn't know what to do, he didn't know what to say or who to say it to. So he did the same thing many other people around the world would have done in the same situation. He called his parents.


Back in the coach he smiled at the memory of his mother's reaction.


"Ohhh, DEMI!" She had almost shrieked his name when he had told her after the usual small talk they managed to struggle by with. The woman may have been getting on a little in years but she managed enough enthusiasm for both of them, his Father too, and likely for half the town they lived in.
"That's AMAZING! You know, I was just talking to your Father the other day about what we'd do if one of us got an invitiation for this and your Father was saying 'Oh, I wouldn't want to go to some forest in the middle of nowhere,' you know how your Father is dear, 'they could refund that ticket and send us to Greece for a week instead,' he's a miserable old fart sometimes but I could tell he'd want to go as much as the rest of the country..." And so it had continued for a while, with Mrs Florentia exhibiting a surprisingly good impersonation of her husband, with Demetrius managing to slip in a few words here and there to classify it as probably the longest conversation he had ever had with either parent. It lasted almost fifteen minutes. And when it was over he decided that he was in fact excited about the oppurtunity and he headed off to the kitched to prepare a celebratory cocktail. He wasn't a casual drinker, or an abusive drinker, but he drank more than he should and it recently begun to show in his tired eyes.


Sat on that seat in the trundling coach, he looked back over the past few sober days. No time to drink when you're trying to take time off. Meetings had to be shifted, dates booked off and a house-sitter organised. It had been difficult, especially for someone who so rarely even left the house, let alone town, for more than a day or two.
The time had flown by as the writer had been lost in thought and when he came to and looked out the window the coach was approaching a grand house surrounded by lush, green forest, media reporters and an overwhelming number of guards. Childish curiosity and excitement bubbled up in the man's stomach and he felt himself, for the first time in as long as he could remember, smile for no apparent reason as he lifted himself from the seat and started packing his things away in his bag. The heat could be felt even through the strong air conditioning inside the vehicle and Demetrius hung his black coat over his spindly arm that held the bag, showing a plain, black tee-shirt and faded denim jeans as he made his way down the aisle to the open door. He stepped down and gazed around, at first not noticing the elderly gentleman who had issued the invitations.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Not too far away, through unbroken forestry, were the gates to the ruins. And somewhere between the two lay the form of Nuram Rihat. His great, crushingly powerful claws lay rested out before him, tips touching as though in prayer. His tail lay flat on the ground behind him, total length from tip of pincers to tip of sting exceeding 8 feet. His legs, bent at the knee, sat with flat feet on either side and his arms rested folded before him. The human half remained upright, shoulders slightly hunched back and chin gently lolling on his chest. Eyes closed and chest rising and falling in a slow, steady rythm, anyone would think the Girtablilu were asleep in the shade, darkness cast from the foliage above deepening the hue of his already ebony skin. But he was awake, moreso than anyone could guess. As he rested the voices from the ruins, the voices from the other side, spoke to him, filled him, threatened to burst him at the seams with it's seemingly infinte wisdom that he vowed one day to understand. There was much he had already learned but it was an infinitesimal amount compared to the power that he knew existed beyond. An open mind was prone to interruption and it was now that his link with the ruins was broken as a sense beyond sight or sound, instinct perhaps, alerted him to the arrival of strangers nearby.

The very idea of allowing petty, judgemental, stupid humans into such a sacred place insulted Nuram to his very core. This was a place of knowledge, wisdom and power. A place for the gifted, the worthy and the chosen. Not a bunch of entertainment-seeking invalids obsessed with their own lives. However, the decision was not his. It was Thomas Thatcher's. A man who, to Nuram at least, was the only acceptable human on these sacred grounds. A man who had strived to keep this location free from invaders for as long as he had. A man who understood the beauty of the ruins. A man who had earned the respect of ancient creatures.

With a deep release of breath, the scorpion-man raised himself to his feet and opened his violet eyes to the world, ready to ensure that these visitors would become of some use to him.

Elliot sat at one of the many chairs lined in the clearing, her violin resting at her shoulder. Slowly she brought the bow across the strings, a slow mournful sound rang out. She stopped adjusting the strings before repeating the process. As she sat there tuning her violin oblivious to the things that surrounded her, that is until she heard it. Elliot stopped looking around her quickly."Anyone there/' She asked for a second she had thought she heard voices. Slowly a whisper rose out of the forest, it sounded like many voices but only one at the same time. Eliot got up setting her violin in its case. "I'm not joking." She called out."This isn't funny and unless you want to knock your block off I suggest you get out here." She folded her arms. This was ridicules she did not travel all the way here just to have same people mess with her. When the voices started again she set off in the direction hey were she thought it was coming from. Pushing a branch out of the way she made her way into the thin foliage that surrounded the clearing.

She made her way deeper in and as she walked the weird whispering voices got loudly until they stopped suddenly. Elliot looked around at where she had ended up. Beside her was a small pool of water clear as glass and just as unnaturally still. "How curious." Elliot mused. She kneeled in front of the pool looking over it calm surface. Her face stood out to her blond almost white hair and pale complexion. Elliot frowned she had been teased when she was younger about her strange feature and sometimes she would be a little self-conscious about them. She ran a hand though her hair. 'Splash' Elliot jumped at the sudden noise looking over she watched light ripples crossing the surface of the water , looking down she noticed her refection gone. The water spell seemed to have lifted, returning to a normal pond. For a moment Elliot thought how mice it would be to slip under its surface and stay there, She shook her head 'what a silly though that’s impossible.' She got up making her way back to the clearing the other guests would arrive soon and would be time for her performance she had to warm up. Before she left she took one more quick look at the pond, for a moment she felt her mind got the bottom of the pond. "What a silly though." She whispered.

~~~~

The days light filtered softly though the thin leaves, silence filled the dense forest only to be broken by the thin rustle of leaves. An odd creature sat between the thick branches, Small hands clasping a small puzzle. A gift that had been given to Nim by Thomas. She sat playing with the puzzle and had sat there for quite a time now not that time really mattered to 'her'. The puzzle was made of many brightly colored cubes made into another one, the point of the games was to match all the same colors to one side. Although Nim had accomplished this a few times, the puzzle had yet to lose it's allure to small Nim. As she solved the puzzle yet again Nim’s thoughts were drawn to the guests that would soon arrive within the ruins, Nim had been overjoyed when she heard of this and had grown even more excited as the day came closer. She also knew that there were others not so happy about Thomas idea.

Nim’s ears twitched standing up alert atop her head a slight rustling could be heard, it was Nuram getting up from where he had spent most of the afternoon. Nim watched him from her spot across the river and high above the trees. She was just far enough away that Nuram could ot sense her presence at least she hoped. She quickly pocketed the puzzle., getting up and making her way over a little closer. She knew of Nuram’s reluctance of the humans being her and it was no doubt that reluctance would prove to be interesting as things progressed. Taking a small leap in Nuram’s direction, she made her way though the tops of the trees, Till she arrived settling on the branch above him. She ducked down securing her tail on the branch. She let go of the branch so she was hanging upside down in front of Nuram, face a foot away. Nuram showed no sign of reaction at Nim’s appearance. Nim smiled greeting Nuram as she always did with a riddle.

"What does man love more than life?
Fear more than death or mortal strife?
What do the poor have, what the rich require,
And what contented men desire?
What does the miser spend, the spendthrift save,
And all men carry to their graves?"

Rea woke slowly, her eyes hot and dry and mouth tasting foul. She wished immediately that she hadn’t decided to take sleeping pills; yes she did want to be awake for being shown around, but not at the cost of being so drowsy. She sat up in her chair, looking around at the other people on the flight, wondering if they all felt quite so bad. She was in first class, a novelty for her and had been given anything she wanted, much to her surprise. She did some slow easy stretches, easing her body out of the chair a little as one of the hostesses brought around some coffee, perfect. In front of her sat two very well dressed young children, their eyes peering through the seats at her, large and round. She smiled at them, having always had a soft spot for children and stuck out her tongue. Gratefully she accepted the coffee, swallowing it quickly, perfect drinking temperature and went back to her stretches, easing her stiff muscles. Her arm muscles tensed and relaxed underneath her skin, rippling with an ease of movement and grace.

“Will you do a trick for us?” Asked the little blond “You are Rea Agnimitra aren’t you? We saw you on the news; mum says your one of the lucky draw, going to the big old castle. She says you were chosen because you’re one of the freaks.” The girl continued to chatter away, innocent to the possibly harmful things she was saying. The mother of course looked over, mortified by what her child had said; but it wasn’t uncommon for Rea to be called that, so she shrugged it off, think no less of the child. From her bag she pulled out two short poi, the balls no bigger than her hands on 7 inch lengths, her hands easily slipping into the grips. She moved smoothly, her body fluid as she swung the circus balls through the air, cutting it with her speed. Slowly but surely she stood up, her body swaying to the movement of her rhythm, unheard to all but her. Through her half closed eyes she could see the little girl and boy smiling, watching as she moved the little things around her, bouncing them off body parts, her flow seamless and unending.

“This is your captain speaking, we will shortly be arriving in Heathrow airport, the local time is 12 o’clock pm and the weather is looking great, clear skies and warm weather are predicted for the rest of the day. If you could please take your seats and fasten your seatbelts, we will be landing in 5 minutes.” The deep voice spoke softly, everyone turning his or her heads to listen to the nearest speaker. She gave the kids a little bow, a crooked smile on her face and sat down, pulling the belt across her lap. They clapped her briefly before they too were strapped in by their closed minded mother. She smiled toothily at the woman, shrugging on a light shirt over her cami, in hope that this would make people watch her less once she arrived. Though she was proud of herself and what she could achieve, she still didn’t want to be judged for her over developed muscular structure. Back at home people called her beautiful; out hear they called her freak, so she knew who to hide herself from.

“Miss Agnimitra! Miss Agnimitra!” Said one of the rushed Staff, once her feet had touched English soil. “Come this way please, it will only take a few moments for us to sort everything out for you. Please sit in the Vip lounge, I will be with you in less than 15 minutes.” The young man was weedy and she doubted he could carry her bags, but she shrugged, letting him lead her down a long, highly polished corridor. He opened the door for her and then quickly slipped away. She wondered for a moment if their wasn’t a second Agnimitra on the plane, for this place was far to up market for her. She could smell the clean coldness of the room, bar lining one wall; it pressed against her skin and not for the first time she wished to be back at home. She slipped through the side door, coming out into the smoking area. She of course didn’t smoke, she couldn’t risk damaging her physical health, but she found smokers comforting and wanted to be outside for a bit. Once more she swung her poi about her in long lazy arcs, letting them ease the tension from her shoulders. Though there were people there, she did not mind being watched, shedding her outer shirt and revealing her excessive muscle. Her hair was once more tied up, falling down behind her to touch her baggy jeans.

“Miss Rea, here is your coffee.” Whispered one of the your waitresses, her head dipping towards her.

“Thank you… Clair.” She said, pausing in her now primal movements, sweat upon her brow. She looked down at the girl’s name tag, making sure she got it right and nodded to her in return. She took a sip of the strong sweet coffee offered and sighed, it was fresh coffee with cream, just how she loved it and for the second time she wondered why such great care was being taken of her. Before she had even finished drinking it, she was being pushed through doors, where she met a man from the British embassy, signed the paper and they were free to go, not needing to go back through customs. She shook her head, this must be a really big deal, far larger than she or her father had ever thought. She missed having him with her, he would have joked at the kind of service she was receiving, gaining smiles from all the people he met. She of course understood that the circus couldn’t do without two of their entertainers, but she wished that he could have been there. Her bags were torn from her hands, making her fingertips burn. They were very insistent on doing everything for her, doors opened and she was on her way.

**** **** **** **** **** **** **** **** **** **** **** ****

“This is your stop Miss Agnimitra , I hope you enjoy it here. I’l be here to pick you up same time tomorrow if you wish? You should be here just in time for the first tour.” The coach came to tall walls, painted white and spotlessly clean. She looked over at the portly driver, whose smile could have fill the entire coach. She liked him, he had not spoken much over the drive, but he had played some nice music, singing along like there was no one there. She shrugged on her shirt once more, covering up despite the warmth. She packed away her things, placing them carefully back in her bag and waited to arrive.

“Greetings to you both.” Thomas said to the first two, hearing the gates open once again, knowing that would be the third guest. “It’s a pleasure to meet you in the flesh, I have read all about you. I hope you don’t mind waiting a moment, but we have a third guest coming and then I shall take you for refreshments.” He bowed to them slightly, his back aching at the pressure of doing so. His blue eyes were warm and full of welcome, these were the people who would let him retire, he wanted them to love it there; to need to be there. He leaned heavily on his cane, once more feeling the weight of what was about to go on and shook his hand weakly at the approaching coach in welcome. He reminded himself they would need to go to their rooms, take light refreshments and then for those who wished, a guide would take them to the Ruins through the old wood, or if they asked, he himself would join them. He sighed as the third coach came to a stop, moving forward to greet the new comer. The driver nipped around, as quick as was needed of such a top service, despite his size. Tom gripped his cane, walking over to help the woman down from the stairs, taking her hand in his.

“Hello everyone, my name is Rea, it’s a pleasure to meet you, especially in such a place.” She spoke softly, feeling unsure of herself, yes she was used to performing in front of other people, but not interacting. She let go of the owner’s soft hand, her shoes sinking into the rich green grass. She took sweet soft steps to the others side, offering her hand to them both in greeting. Behind her, she heard one of the guards come up. He spoke in hushed tones to the Thomas Thatcher and she could sense the tension in the air. Shaking herself she smiled broadly at the others, wanting to leave a good impression, before moving to sit on the ground. The flow of her movements was flawless, not a single action wasted or ugly, she was the perfect performer and she practiced hard at it. She unlaced her shoes with care, pulling them off and placing her socks in them afterwards, her eyes on her every actions, always testing herself. Slowly she inched her toes into the crisp green leaves, enjoying the smell of the grass and green things that rushed past her nose. There was the sound of music playing, but also birds and she smiled, this place was as much a rig as her own home.

“I’m afraid I am going to have to go and sort out a few things, apparently not everyone is staying where they should.” Tom spoke softly, obviously not wanting to leave the new guests so soon. “I will have the maids escort you to your rooms where you can place you bags and get settled. I would then ask that you come down in 15 minutes, as we will be serving light refreshments in the herb garden, which is just around the corner.” He beckoned the two waiting maids “Please excuse me.” He moved off with one of the guards, shaking a little as he walked, it was too soon for anything to go wrong, why weren’t the guards doing their jobs. No one was supposed to enter the forest until after these first few had had their tour. The guard handed him a photo of the girl who had disappeared. Ahh yes, the young violinist, she had seemed very talented and he had been keen to meet her, he would have to place a guard on her. He looked up his eyes scanning the area and caught on to her bright white hair, heading in her direction.

“Please come with us, we will take you to your rooms.” The girls spoke in unison, slightly creepy for the whip thin forms and long pale yellow hair. “Would you like to have your rooms near one another, or in different parts of the estate?” They asked, picking up some of their bags and walking away as though they weighed nothing. They moved the three of them through into the grand hall, it’s ceiling arching high above them, each room immaculate and perfect in itself. As they went the two girls told them of the rooms, pointing them out and telling them what they were and as ever that they were welcome to go in there whenever they liked. The girls also told them of the main rooms, where the entertainment would be held and also where the bulk of the staff was, so they could avoid it if they wished. They were lead up the broad sweeping stairs to the second floor, which though kept to the time of the house was fitted with all the modern things anyone could desire. Moving off into the second wing, they looked through tall doors, all leading to large bedrooms and bathroom suits. Each was color coded, everything tasteful and contrasting or complimenting everything else in the room.

“These three rooms will be your allotted rooms, you are however welcome to wander around and find another room more to your tastes.” The twins looked up with pale eyes, having lived here with their mother for most of their lives, daughters of the housekeeper. “You are however asked to be down in the herb garden in 15 minutes, there will be food and drinks as to whatever you desire. The phones in your rooms are connected; call number 123 and you will get the services, which are available at any time. If you want to call one another’s rooms at any point, all you need to do is dial the room number.” Both girls pointed with the exact same motion to the numbers above the doors. They set the bags in their respective rooms and excusing themselves, leaving the three guests to their own devices.


**** **** **** **** **** **** **** **** **** **** **** **** ****

Jinan had been keeping a close eye on the forests borders since Thomas had left, watching for anyone who might come in uninvited. However quite soon he heard the whispers, passing through the trees, touching leaf to leaf, the oldest Chinese whispers. Whispers were only really for those invited, but it was too soon for any of the Lucky Draw to be coming in. He stretched, arching his back and digging his white paws gently into the tree where he had been lying, tail lolling down beneath him. Licking his nose and lips he pulled himself up, launching himself from one old tree to the other, their stiff branches barely giving a rustle as he moved swiftly between them. He moved through the forest easily, curious as to who might be there and what they were doing. His fur rippled, headdress left at the gates entrance, not wanting anything that might draw further attention to his swift moving figure. Each tree he touched told him a little more of what was going on, bringing him a little closer to where the disturbance was.

He stopped silently over the whispering pool, watching the blond haired girl. He inched over the branches, positioning himself above her, his muscles stretched taught beneath his skin. He curled up noiselessly wrapping his tail around the tree for balance, fingers gripping the slender branch with an easy grip. A leaf fell from the tree, softly reaching out towards the pool. Deftly he reached out with his tail, darting in th air above her, attempting to catch it, but too late, it had fallen out of his reach. The leaf fell on the water, disturbing the girl and he hoped she wouldn’t look up and see him. Nervously he watched as she turned to leave, before coming down from the tree, walking along on all fours, tail whipping angrily behind him. The forest was luring them in, this was not a good sign, it was trying to protect itself. He lent down, lapping at the water, his own liquid eyes reflected back at him. After he had his fill, he reached out with his forefinger, touching the pool and stilling its ripples, leaving it once more a picture of tranquillity. Softly he began to sing to the water calming it, his deep earthy tones stilling the water right to it’s core. The he was off again, looking to find anything else that, might be wrong with the forest.

Demetrius stopped his staring around the grounds as the old man spoke to him and the only other who had yet arrived. He didn't speak himself, he had been asked no question and was quiet by nature. So he simply nodded along and smiled at the instantly likeable gentleman who had clearly gone through a tremendous amount of effort for them to be here and enjoy the experience. Personally, he would have been just as happy to be greeted and sent off to wander by himself; fine living, luxury accomodation and entertainment at his expense made him somehow nervous. Yes, he was definitely a man who liked his home comforts and time to himself. Lots of time to himself. People didn't tend to make a big deal about him as he guessed they would for others lucky enough to be chosen. He was, after all, a writer. To anyone here who even knew of his books, let alone read them, he was just another face without a name, just the way he liked it.

As the instigator od this event trundled off to greet the third member of the party he couldn't help but watch, curious as to who else was here. In fact, he knew nothing of the other members of the draw, not a name or profession, he hadn't followed the news or the hype. So he was surprised at the sight of a heavily muscled woman step off the coach who looked like more than a match for any of the members of the security team that surrounded the edges of the forest. She was, in that respect, very different from the other woman he stood not too close to; the first arrival, yet neither were particularly unattractive. Unconventional in looks, perhaps, but far from a sore sight. Not that it made much difference to Demi, he was here for the ruins and the inspiration held within and around. They could be ogreish in their physical appearance and he'd still feel uneasy in conversation because they were still people. And therein lay his largest fault, proven on his journey here.


A woman had been sat beside him on the plane journey to England, a place he had visited several times, who just happened to be reading one of his books. It was a shock to him, he never left the house and so rarely got the chance to see such things. And so he looked over to check what page she was on. He knew every event and word by heart and could have recited the next sentence before she turned the page. Instead, when she turned to him and asked if he had ever read any of D. Florentia's books he replied that he hadn't and went back to his in-flight movie without another word. It wasn't that he was unfriendly and he knew it, it was just that he had no idea how to communicate to others. No, that wasn't strictly true either. He could envisage in his mind's eye a response to every question and every statement but to actually voice these things was the difficulty. Even as a child he had been quiet and he had grown to learn it was just his way.


Back in the estate grounds he was forced into tearing his gaze away from the splendour of his surroundings by the latest arrival announcing her name in greeting. Her reply from the thin, pale individual in the black tee-shirt was a slim smile and a brief raise of the hand. Mercifully, he was saved from attempting to indulge in conversation by the elderly gentleman excusing himself and handing over charge of the troupe to a pair of girls who reminded Demi of the twins from 'The Shining' in many ways. Thinking in terms of literature helped calm his overactive mind and he managed to relax a little, despite his proximity to strangers. Yet he still did not speak, even when the question was asked about room preference. He had no preference and so remained quiet. He strolled along behing the babbling twins with hands deep in his pockets, bag being carried with far more grace than he could ever achieve by one of the miniature tour guides. They managed to keep speaking throughout the entire journey and the writer clung to every word, always thirsty for a greater weath of knowledge. Within his internal notebook he placed the names of several rooms he would ensure he looked over during his time here. The history each must have held contrasted vividly with the modern makeover given to the place yet they still retained the charm of age which refreshed the mind and relaxed the body.

The tour ended with a quick explanation of the phone services available and the designation of rooms for each person before reminding them to be in the herb garden for refreshements (And likely photographs for the media he thought distastefully) and heading off to wherever it would be they were needed next.
"Thank you very much," Demetrius said in a quiet monotone, only the slightest hint of his Tennesse accent noticeable, and then he stepped into the room where his bags had been placed. He stopped in the doorway and felt incredibly awkward at not saying anything to the other guests. He knew he should make an effort, if not for themselves then for the fellow who had arranged it all. "Well, I guess I'll see you down in the herb garden. Nice meeting you." He spoke in the same feeble voice and without making direct eye contact with either of the women. He simply let his eyes rest between them as he spoke, gave a quick smile and retreated into his room without closing the door with the intention of unpacking some things before heading down.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Nuram started to walk to where he had felt the intrusion in the forest. He shared a link with the grounds, though not as strong as Jinan did. Details he could gather from the trees were lost on the Girtablilu, who could only sense when something was wrong. And there was something wrong now. For the first time in as long he had known, there was an intruder in the forest. He didn't know who, or even what, it may have been but they had broken his thoughts and stirred him from his connection to the ruins and he was going to ensure that they knew their place. But before he could move so much as a yard his view was blocked by the critter that seemed hell-bent on making life as complicated as possible for Nuram. He knew by now that to speak before Nim had would only cause his delay to be longer than necessary so he allowed the irritating guardian to prattle off it's often unsolvable riddles before dismissing it.

"Begone Nim, I have no time for your petty games to-" He stopped midsentence, actually giving the linguistic puzzle some thought. It was only a few seconds before he clocked the answer. "Nothing, Nim, the answer you seek is nothing." His voice was an amplified whisper which was slow, deep and very pronounced. Every 'S' was sharp, like a fragment of sound from a steaming kettle, and cut the silence like a dagger. Each word echoed an age of loneliness and hatered, to be likened only to a God who has been imprisoned.

The fact that the riddle had been a question of man was the only clue that Nuram had to it's answer, otherwise he likely would have never guessed. His perception that humans were selfish, fearful creatures was what led him to answer only the first line, the rest fitting into place. Man loves nothing more than his own wretched hide he had thought before realising that the answer he had unwittingly given to himself fit every aspect.

"Pester me no more child of another world, not today. There is too much to dwell upon." And with that he went to brush the hanging figure aside so he could pass (Though he could easily have walked around, Nuram was not one to let people stand before him), already feeling the intrusion backing away from the edge of the forest.

Elliot sat to the side of the clearing, mind still for off from her body to the place where water stood still as glass. " Excuse me miss." Elliot looked up shaking her head back to the present. "do you need help to your room." Elliot smiled shaking her head at the maid."No thank you I'm the entertainment i was shown my room yesterday.' She smiled at the girl. "Oh i see very well then." The maid nodded her head before heading over to another guest. Elliot pressed a hand to her head, what was wrong with her she had completely daydreamed though most of guest introductions. It was a good thing she had already was given instructions yesterday or she would be completely lost. The voices, she was sure they were not a prank after all, why would anyone here even go to so much trouble. If it had not been a prank, the voices were either her imagination or real. She liked to think they were real, not her going insane .

Elliot stood up and began packing up her violin, 'I should probably make my way to the herb garden.' she thought to herself . She was expected to play a little something for the guests while they enjoyed the provided food and refreshments. Elliot smiled plans for what she would play, making there way to the surface of her frazzled mind. She carefully set the violin in it's case and carefully closing the lid. It was a beautiful case, a gift from her late mother. Elliot frowned a little her mother death despite being a year ago, was still fresh on her mind. Her mother had been a great support to Elliot, her best friend. Being without her had even been enough to make her lose her muse which she had hoped the ruins could restore. The case was navy blue with simple golds clasps., the hole case was very simple and that's why she loved it. she snapped the clasps shut before standing up, the case in one hand . Her other hand reaching out to smooth her skirts. She had dressed simple for the event wearing a flowing skirt that came down to her knees and a white blouse. A silver chain sat along her breast bone.

It was when Elliot started back towards the house she noticed Thomas thatcher making his slow way over in her general direction. She glanced around quickly seeing none else that close to her she assumed He must wanted to talk to her, she was confused to what about she was only the entertainment after all not one of the lucky draw guests. Maybe she did something wrong like trespassing into the forest or being late to the herb garden. Or she thought logically she may just be worrying like she always did, he might just be over to greet her. She gave him a smile smile as she closed the distance between them. "Is there anything i can help you with Mr.Thatcher." She asked.


~~~~~

Nim moved aside quickly ,as not to be knocked right of the branch. Even though Nuram had only just nudged his strength was much greater then Nims, her specialty had always lied within stealth. Nim stretched out her thoughts to the world around her, she knew of the humans presence at the edge of the Forrest and wished to delay Nuram's wanderings in that direction. Noticing Nuram getting further away, She made a small rebound off the branch landing easily a top of Nuram's back. Settling into a seated position ,obviously ignoring Nuram's request to leave him be. "Here i thought i may have really stumped you Nuram , considering your almost non-existence knowledge of human nature." Nim said voice teasing in nature "Despite how much you think you know." She continued. "I think it will be fun having them with us , they may teach use things if we care to listen, if you care to listen." She stopped features alighted with a peaceful look despite the fact she may have just insulted a very dangerous person. She was confident for whatever reason Nuram would not harm her.

She came up a little so she was kneeling in place, getting ready to take her spot back in the trees. "I will go if you want Nuram, but please don't play rough with the humans their not all that bad." She lept up taking to the top branches of the nearest tree. "Til later crabby claws." Nim called down in her wake. "I'll be sure to think of a even harder riddle for next time." Leaving Nuram behind Nim climbed to the highest point of the ruins a place that was nothing but a world of leaves, broken light leaked though the surface leaving a peaceful glow in casing the space. Nim settled down on her favorite nook. She closed her eyes , reaching out the furthest corners of her mind she stretched same to the direction Nuram heading, the other to the clearing no bustling with what Nim hoped were new friends. She became one with the ruins for but a second and waited for the next event to unfold.

Ulva’s right leg was relaxed, standing in a contrapposto stance so that it gave her a laid by appearance. She nodded kindly at the old man as he greeted her. Another of the guests arrived right after her, a man who joined their group but stood a few feet off. She could tell he was the quiet type, not ever managing to catch even a few seconds of eye-contact with him, but he seemed nice enough. Thomas went on by saying that he was glad to meet them in the flesh, that he had read all about them. Ulva’s interest perked a bit at this comment, eyes widening a slight bit more in focus. She wondered what he could have read about her.. she didn’t particularly accomplish anything of importance back home. Sure, she led adventure groups on the weekends for rock climbing lessons, and sometimes gave tours of the area to tourists, but were these enough to get her chosen? She didn’t particularly think so.. which made her wonder how he even heard of her since she never applied to come to the Ruins. Another coach car rolled around the corner, drawing her back from her thoughts to reality. There wasn’t much to question about the choice of being a Lucky Draw now, she was already here and was not willing to give up her spot now. The elderly man seemed to become a slight bit distracted towards the end of his greeting, his eyes watching the coach, Tom slowly making his way to help the woman out of the coach despite his frail body.

Ulva’s eyes beamed up at her, she was gorgeous. She had never seen a woman so toned and muscular in her life. The woman had introduced herself as Rea, then went about sitting herself on the ground at removing her shoes. Ulva watched her with peaceful eyes, thinking maybe she was an actress or swimmer or someone famous. Maybe she had been in the Olympics? When it seemed her gaze might start coming off as intrusive, she averted her eyes back to look at the man, then back to Thomas. Thomas was approached by a guard, though the tension in their faces blew over Ulva. Seemed enough like casual business to not think into it, or maybe was just too innocent to realize possible trouble brewing.

“Hi Rea, I’m Ulva. It is nice to meet you, too, I’m so excited to...” she was cut off, though in a polite manner, by two approaching maids with nearly identical appearances, both thin with oddly yellow hair. Ulva had only been here for a few minutes and could see that this place was mystical, one of a kind. The maid duo spoke in unison, which brought an even larger smile upon Ulva’s face. In a case like this just the slightest event would cause her to get excited, maybe too excited. The maids picked up the luggage of the others, Ulva herself having no bags except for the green one on her back. The group was then being moved to the inside of the grand house. As she entered the doorway she removed her black hat, pressing it against her chest for comfort. She felt like a kid in a candy store, every piece of furniture and smell something new and curious to her. Each room that was pointed out by the maids was repeated in Ulva’s mind so that she had a better chance of remembering later on. This sheer size of this mansion was unnervingly foreign to Ulva who lives in a town where the whole population could fit inside just the Grand Hall, not including the rest of the wings. She could already see her siblings not believing her if she told them the enormity of the house she was staying in. The thought of her family brought a sweet smile to her smooth complexion. She already missed them but soon enough she’d be back.

The maid twins then brought the group up stairs to a second floor, as if there wasn’t already enough space below. “This is insane!” she whispered in a cheerful tone to the other two guests, Rea and the man (who had not mentioned his name yet to her knowledge). By the time they were at the top of the steps, the maids had opened the large doors to another wing of the mansion, the bedroom wing to be exact. Ulva was beginning to feel even lighter on her toes, anxious and excited all at once to check out the room she would be assigned. But they didn’t assign any, they informed them they could pick any that they wanted. The room two doors down on the left was Ulva’s random pick, not caring what she ended up getting because no matter what it would be better than her room back home.

The large oak door swung open gracefully as she twist the doorknob. At sight over the room’s grandeur she froze in her steps, lips parting in pure amazement, shock. She willed herself inside, letting the door stay slightly open. “Oh my,” she whispered, her arms hanging at her side as she gawked at the bed, the mural behind it, the chandelier of glimmering crystals and candle lights, several ceramic vases and a marble bust of what looked to be a Greek goddess. The carpet felt plush and new under her shoes, which she then preceded to slip off so that she could get the full experience under her feet. Taking a few steps closer to the inside, she swung her backpack over the shoulder and set it down on the futon in front of the bed, as well set down her black cap. There seemed to be a cove further towards the back of the room, which itself was full of elaborate furnature, no corner left unattended. This cove had two doors on opposite ends, one Ulva realized was a closet and the other was a personal bathroom, something she didn’t even know existed. At her home in Russia, the whole family used one tiny bathroom. Ulva’s bedroom at home could fit inside the bathroom in this place. “This is unreal...” she said to herself, walking out of the cove and then towards the bed, letting herself fall face first onto the center, her nose taking in the sweet scent of lavender off the cotton sheets. “Mmm, heaven,” she said in a muffled tone since he mouth was pressed against the covers. She could be spending this time unpacking but she only really had two other outfits in her backpack, and small basic hygiene necessities, which she assumed the bathroom here was already stocked with. In total she could unpack in 5 minutes, which she planned on doing later tonight before bed. ((This is how I invision Ulva’s room))

She wondered how the two others were enjoying their rooms, and was equally interested in how their rooms looked since the twins had said each room was unique and different. Ulva was in love with this room but surely any room could compete to be the best. She pushed herself up from the covers, rolling around until she made her way back to the carpeted floor. She didn’t want to spend too much time alone in here, afraid she was missing out on the events going on downstairs. Plus she didn’t want to arrive late for this meeting with Thatcher in the herb garden. Giving one last glance at her room, she made the way out of the door and back into the hallway. One room the door was wide open, so she peered in to see if one of the two others was still up here. It was the guys room, as she could see him unpacking some of his things. She felt a little uncomfortable peering in, but decided to say something to him anyway.

“Hey in there...” she raised her voice while her hands gripped the door’s frame. “I’m going to head downstairs, attempt to find the herb garden... want to join?” she offered, friendly as she usually was. It never was hard for her to make friends, but she had a feeling the guy wasn’t much of a people person. It wouldn’t hurt to try though, seeing as in an experience like this, it would be easy to spark up a conversation.

“You… are…. SO LUCKY!” The girl gave her an enthusiastic hug and kissed her cheeks with excitement. “You WILL email me and you WILL send me photos each and every second and you definitely must have your mobile with you AT ALL TIMES!”
It was pretty irritating the way she always emphasized on certain words when cheerful (and that was pretty much all the time), but to Iris Maggie’s natural way was never a hindrance. They were like sisters and the girl’s genuine happiness for her luck was like a glass in the desert. Yes, it was soothing and refreshing to have her around when all the other dancers seemed to hate anyone remotely content with its life.

Iris was one of those beings blessed with love and accomplishment that lead a fruitful life without any tragic events or regrets. She had a rough time when she first came to the States, having to adjust to a whole new way of life. Things in America were done a bit different from Europe. At first she was surprised to see how a lot of people based their actions and opinions on the concept of freedom and moral liberty and this made her think that California was the land of her dreams. She learned soon enough that too much freedom leads to corruption of the mind so she swore to always keep her good upbringing , never to shame her loving parents. The industry she entered was no church community either, but she was always focused on reaching perfection and had no time for social gatherings. However, her outgoing personality and open mind made getting friends easy. In this world having the right connections was of utmost importance and Iris owed her current position to her agent, Ms. Starks, a genuine iron maiden in the business. She saw her potential and decided to exploit it, but surprisingly she grew fond of the childish dancer.

“ I CAN’T believe you’re going up THERE! If this doesn’t make you famous, nothing will!” Maggie went on in one of her innocent ramblings deciding what Iris will wear, feel and do, how everything will be “exquisite”, “magnificent” and “simply wonderful” having the best drinks, food, company and every little expectation met.
“That is reserved for the Lucky Draws and international fame is actually meant for them,” Iris said laughing, “I’ll be there working." After a pause she couldn't keep up with the pretense and shared the girl's enthusiasm: "Maggie, this is going to be such an adventure!” She continued folding her frilly white stage outfit for the forth time. “My real adventure!”
“If you find Prince Charming there please give him my number and maybe you can mail me some of the caviar” Maggie replied with a hint of irony, but Iris sensed eagerness in her voice. She had her share of VIP treatment in the last two years, the perspective of being pampered wasn’t something she looked forward to, but the mere thought of going at the Ruins, in Paradise, made her heart pump faster than ever. The feeling of being “the chosen” in her mildly twisted view of events made her estatic. In reality, it was Ms. Starks who pulled the right strings and payed the right amount to get her a job in the Event, although Iris’ talent was decisive.

When the two girls went outside the institution instead of the usual yellow cab and conspicuous driver was an elegant red Mini. Leaned on the car, in her low cut business suit and high heels, Ms. Stark was waiting for them. “You cannot be late” she said fitting the ebony glasses on her aquiline nose. Iris kissed Maggie goodbye and got in the car besides her agent.
“You should have arrived a day before the Lucky Draws, but that can't be undone now. I know got you the spot at the last minute, but that should not present an excuse if you haven't practiced enough. I’m inclined to believe you came up with an original routine by now, is that correct?” Her haughty tone reached its purpose and Iris answered with a pupil’s “yes ma’am”. The conversation ended and Iris had no desire to continue it, although there was much more to be said. She suddenly felt abandoned and the grandness of the event finally reached her core. How was she supposed to deal with such an important task? She had to entertain all those people and make her performance a memorable one. There were going to be other performers, more skilled and experienced than her, not to mention the place. It wasn’t a stage, it was a show in itself and no dance could match the scenery or the enchantment it possessed. This was her biggest challenge yet. “And my dream come true” she thought and her eyes glowed, the thought being a suitable replacement for the missing encouragements she hoped to hear, but Ms. Starks was focused on perfection, rather than enjoyment and she would not ever say a soothing word.

The trip was long and dull, Iris been on too many planes too many times. When they finally arrived at the Ruins she felt as if her heart was about to burst. “Please don’t let me die now” she prayed amused. Not living Ms. Stark’s side she entered the site timid and restless, her blue eyes widened with excitement. Everywhere she looked she saw everything she hoped and prayed for.

He wasn't kidding Demitrius though as he recalled Mr Thatcher saying he had read much about them because he doubted this choice of room was coincidence. It was faultless, in each and every way that he could see. The room was basic but beautiful, there were no unecessary throws or decorations, just a large (And outrageously comfortable-looking) 4-poster bed with white cotton sheets dominating the room, framed by cream walls adorned with works of art that set his heart beating. At first all he could do was stare around at the paintings. A landscape portrait of what he assumed was the canopy of the forest he would soon be exploring, an abstract design depicting three strange creatures by a lake's edge, mountain tops and yet more scattered in tiny frames that themselves were arranged into an intricate pattern. It was art within art and each painting hung together with it's fellows on the spaces of the walls that were not covered by grand oak bookcases filled to bursting point with ancient, dusty volumes and modern fiction alike. Before he could even start forward to examine to titles he felt the need to remove his shoes in case he would mark the cream carpet that he soon found to be as soft as a cloud beneath his bare feet. The room, in short, was his idea of heaven. And then there was the view. Oh, the view... He, a published writer of the strange and complex, could not quite think of the words to describe the majesty of the sprawling forest below, stretching away for miles. He had a feeling he would be sitting at the small desk in front of the window for a long time tonight. Though his preferred method of writing was through the convenience of a laptop, he would try the charming quill and inkwell that sat waiting for him there. The idea brought a smile to his lips, the view and the style of writing would be totally alien to him and he looked forward to it almost as much as he did wandering the grounds.

Stunning though the room was in all it's cream and oak glory, he decided that he should unpack a few things before heaing down. With some reluctance, he tore his gaze away from his surroundings and opened his bag to start shifting some things. The only storage space he could see was a few drawers in the bottom of the bed but a sliding panel, oak of course, beside a bookcase to his left hinted at a walk-in wardrobe. Yet no sooner had he taken out the first of his clothes did a voice from behind startle him. He turned and saw the woman who had arrived before him and announced her name as Ulva at Rea's arrival. He felt a little odd at being the only one of the trio not to have given his name but there was plenty of time to talk yet. Such as now, she was inviting him to join her for the journey to the herb garden.

"Erm, sure, love to. But I just need to slip into something a little more uncomfortable first. You know, keeping up appearances and all that." As he said this he reached into his bag and pulled out a folded suit carrier. "I'll only be a minute." He wasn't entirely keen on the idea of a walk with only one other person. At least when others were around he could drift off into the background and let them talk amongst themselves. No such luck when he was the only other person to speak to. Yet he needed to go down anyway and if she was kind enough to offer company then he'd be rude not to accept.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Back in the forest Nuram felt his arm glide through the air as the nimble Nim eluded his brushing off and leapt off up into the trees, for once appearing to listen to him. But he should have known better, barely a few steps later and the annoying creature was on his back like a talking rucksack. He stifled a groan and felt himself baring his perfectly white, subtly pointed teeth in frustration. A scorpion's back was not a safe place to be at the best of times and Nuram raised his tail, pointing the huge sting down at the other guardian meanacingly. Though Nim had learned by now that Nuram was not naturally aggressive and would not, despite a bitter dislike for 'her', harm the fragile reality-drifter, he hoped that his action at least would get his point across. He was in no mood to be toyed with today. Or most other days for that matter. There was, granted, the occasional time that he would find Nim's antics amusing and on rare incidents even charming enough to elicit a laugh. Though whether this was a good thing or not was debateable, the laughter of the Girtablilu was far from comforting.

Before Nim retreated from his back he managed a small response to 'her' accusations. "I know enough about humans. They are selfish and destructive." And that was all he had to say on the matter. He continued walking, even with his passenger, and said not another word until the trees above rustled with the movement of his reluctant counterpart. "Gods, spare me that creature's company until necessary."

Ms. Starks didn’t seem to share the same excitement. Her way of showing interest was subtle and less forward so she merely gazed around, her left eyebrow arching each time something unique caught her eye. They were only standing behind the white walls, a few steps away from the entrance and the place looked like a very well tended garden, at first glance not very different from the royal ones in the “real world”. However, the plants and the rocks where spectacular and some areas gave a general feeling of surreal when looked upon. It was like a strange mix between the Gardens of Versailles and the Hawaiian flora. The magnificent building in front of them had no element of comparison and couldn’t be fitted in an architectural pattern either. It was simply astonishing, but Ms. Starks suspected that the” real deal” was behind it, where the forest was. She decided to wait for Mr. Thatcher and not succumb to Iris’ curiosity when she insistently asked for a walk “to see everything and discover all that there is.”

Despite her eagerness Iris forced herself to be patient and moved quietly within the gardens, not daring to venture too far. She wanted to dance, to sing, to jump like a kid, to talk to the taciturn guards who seemed unaware of the miracle they took part in. Instead, she admired the flowers and strange plants, touching every bit of leaf or petal, taking delight in their unique shapes and textures. Some had a mixture of colors and patterns which made them look like bugs or even small creatures and Iris even mistook the leaves of a hanging plant for butterflies. In this strange place on the face of Earth plants had the ability to camouflage. Colibris were flying all over, gathering material for their nests and there really wasn’t anything that seemed out of place although nothing was quite as it should.
Her state of euphoria was troubled only by the impatient desire to see everything all at once if possible . She wanted for someone to come faster and show her around as going by herself seemed out of the question.

Creaks, buzzes and drilling sounds came from the mansion along with fragments of music, lines being rehearsed out loud and chattering. The bustle was a natural consequence of the last preparations made for the day and Iris longed to practice in order to gain faith in herself once more. She was humming a sweet melody, based on Pachelbel’s “Canon” and soon enough her waistline started to move smoothly from side to side. The arms followed soon in a wave like motion and before she knew it, the dance already had a will of its own. Iris ended it with an arabesque, standing on one leg, while the other was extended behind her body, with both knees straight, knowing very well that Ms. Starks was watching. The girl was keen on dancing the right way, wild and free as soon as she would be left alone. This was the only place where she could embrace dancing as a whole, the very essence of it, not as a tool for entertainment.

What caught her eye in the next moments had nothing to do with the magic of the area. A pair of twins came out of the mansion, their long silky hair blowing in the wind. They had fragile looking bodies and the most interesting maid outfits Iris had ever laid eyes on. Abandoning the gardens, she rushed over to take a closer look at what looked like to her as a perfect cosplay.

“Yeh I guess I’l see you both in a bit.” She paused watching the other two go into their rooms. “I wonder who else will be joining us.” She said quietly to herself, transferring the weight of her rucksack from one shoulder to the other, wondering why these people had been chosen. She also wondered why she herself had been chosen, not being anything particularly special; only a travelling artist really. She smiled when she opened the door to her room, enjoying the bright colours they had gone for, rich luxurious shades and large open spaces. She was glad they had decided on something a little more like home for her, the domed ceiling reaching high above her, with large arched windows letting in floods of bright sunlight. She chucked her bag heavily on the bed and knelt down, unzipping her suitcase. She hated to be still for so long and it had been a while, almost 2 days since she had last been able to practice. She pulled out her Kusarigama, standing in the middle of the floor, away from the bed that was tucked away in an alcove. She wondered briefly, if they had rearranged the room to give her space for practice, then shook her head, decided that in the long run, it wouldn’t matter if they had.

Pulling her ipod out of her pocket, she calmly placed the buds in her ears, fitting them snuggly and pressed play. The cool tones of Ludevico Enaudi’s fingers darting across his piano filled her head, setting her hips swaying gently. She easily wrapped the fine chain around her hand, encasing the leather straps in oxidized metal, coiling it around till the lengths were the same and she had a meter of chain to work with. Stretching her back, she emptied her mind, knowing better than to let thoughts get in the way of her new toys. Currently she was only trying old poi tricks, things she could do without thought and never hit herself with, but better to be safe, rather than bleeding. She rocked the blades slowly back and forth, working them into a parallel circle at her sides. A high pitch whine came from the swinging of them, switching the speed, till she became comfortable. Slowly she started to move into tricks, her body dancing along with each and every movement, the picture of grace as the blades hissed across her side, touching but never cutting.

The phone rang to her side, making her twitch and she quickly slowed her movements, sweat beading on her brow. She did not want to get hurt, not when there was so much to see here and her father was so looking forward to hearing all her stories. She let her toys fall to the floor, enjoying their heavy thud and ran soft footedly across the floor, sliding across the bed. She picked up the phone deftly, hoping she hadn’t missed the caller.

“Miss Rea?” Came the voice of one of the twins, for it couldn’t be mistaken. She looked around, more than a little creeped out by them, though they seemed friendly enough.

“Yes, am I late?” She paused, eyes desperately looking for a clock, sure she had been playing for a few minutes, but not long enough to warrant a call because she was late. Her shoulders tightened.

“No, not at all, in fact I hope I’v called you in time to catch the other two guests.” She paused, obviously her sister had said something. “We are having a few problems with the reporters, they are of course here to document the Ruin’s and its surrounding area. However they are not supposed to do so to any of the guests, but they are hassling to see you all. You would think with a once in a life time opportunity, they would not waste it on publications like gossip magazines.”

“Sasha quiet!” Said the other twin in the background, obviously not keen on them being too personal.

“We will be coming up to collect you and the other two guests shortly, we will take you down to the herb garden. Please wait till we arrive. Thank you.” The twin’s words were harmonious, like two birds in duet, she had enjoyed their melodies, but then the phone was dead. She looked at the handset quietly, mystified by the way things were done. Slowly standing she walked to the shower, wanting to be clean for the second meeting with everyone; it was hard to do so when traveling. She easily slipped out of her dirty clothes, running herself swiftly under the massaging shower, flicking the clear water from her face. She rapidly picked out yet another pair of lose trousers, these linen in a dark blue, shrugging a cami over her top (pale eggshell blue), then a translucent shirt over the top of that (simple navy), doing a little to hide her overly muscled form. She stood in front of the mirror, glad that she looked a little normal today, pulling her hair harshly back from her face. Leaning down she placed on some soft soled leather shoes, enjoying the scarlet hue; that was the brightest thing of all she wore. Deciding she was done, she walked out of her door to find the others.

“Ulva, are you there?” She asked coming out of her door to find the other girl already there. “Oh your here.” She smiled blushing, not quite sure what to say. She twisted her wet hair through her fingers, looking down at the floor. Had Ulva been waiting for her or the other guest, whose name she didn’t know? She looked down at the floor, running her hand over her own arms, fingers comforted by the familiar dips and raises of her muscles. She motioned for the other girl to wait, her hand motions soft and clear, her head tipping in thanks. She darted back inside, chucking everything in her small backpack on the bed, placing only the things she needed in their instead, her bladed toys to relax her, another set of simple poi, mobile and wallet. She paused, thinking for sure she had forgotten something. Quickly she picked up her keys, knowing they had a pinpoint flashlight, just encase they were out after dark, she was after all less than keen on being left alone in the dark. Chucking a warm hoodie in her bag, she was ready, reaching to pluck the room keys from the door.

“Hey, sorry about that, I just want to be ready.” She paused, smiling at the other girl. “The yellow haired twins called my room, apparently they are having a few issues with the reporters, so we are to wait here till they come to get us. They say that we shouldn’t be under the spotlight, maybe they aren’t allowed to take photos of us, I don’t know, anyway, we have been told to wait and they will be up soon.” She shrugged, peering up and down the corridor, smiling at how beautiful the place was. She let her bag fall to the floor, sliding down to follow it, her eyes up on the ceiling. She hoped she hadn’t interrupted anything, had the other two been talking before she burst from her room? The guy looked kind of shy, no not shy, uninterested in others. She thought this was odd, though she couldn’t say much, she spent most of her time focused on her work, but she was still interested in others around her. She shook her head, the poor guy had barely said a word and already she was judging him, a poor show on her part. She dug her fingers into the carpet, she would have to be better, these people hadn’t come to see her for their entertainment, they were here for the same reason as her.

**** **** **** **** **** **** **** **** **** **** **** **** **** ****

“Hello Miss Gates, yes you can help me.” Thomas tilted his head, looking at the young musician. “They tell me you have been looking in places you know you aren’t supposed to, not yet at least.” Behind him he could feel the heavy weight of the guards, their presence unwanted in such a beautiful place, but very obviously needed. He motioned the girl to follow him, knowing they would soon both be needed at the herb garden, though for different reasons. He looked about, the place was almost empty again, those not yet performing had been herded into the staff’s quarters, now full to the brim. Though they had been having a few issues with some of the reporters, they seemed to be out of the way for now, kept around the front of the estate, being retold the rules they had been made to sign before. He had known there would be problems with this, no matter how fantastic the guards were, but he would do his best to give the guests the best treatment.

“I will be leaving Terry with you, he’s one of the smaller guards and so wont draw too much attention. Please try to remember your contract, you have been given a high privilege, you will be accompanying the guests into the ruins and you can play there.” He paused smiling at her “I assure you people would kill to be in your place.” His quirky smile turned down a little as the moved closer to the herb garden. His leg was giving him trouble today and not for the first time he was glad this opening was only for a day. He leaned heavily on his cane, feeling as it sank slightly into the grass beneath its tip. His mind wandered to the guests that had already arrived, from what he had read on them all, they seemed like good people. The files gathered on each person were not only based on what the outside world saw of them, but also after phone calls to their family and friends. He was glad to have this information and it gave him a little more insight as to why Jinan had chosen them on behalf of the ruins.

“You can feel free to set up over by the sundial, it’s raised and should give you a good sound.” He pointed to the raised alcove with the sundial being central. “The guests should be down soon, there are only three at the moment, I hope this doesn’t dissuade you.” The herb garden was light, kept to its original purpose, herbs growing beautifully out of the raised beds and plant pots, all in keeping with the house tone. He sat down on one of the white garden chairs, ornate metal comfortable and cool in the hot summer sun. To the left side was a buffet of sorts with food and drink and two waitresses to facilitate them in anything they might want. Around it all was the scent of lavender, different verities growing around the miniature garden, in fact it was even in some of the rooms. it had been chosen for its many qualities, most of all because of its power to dissuade insects, something no one wanted.

**** **** **** **** **** **** **** **** **** **** **** **** **** ****

The twins came around the corner, their hands clasped in one another’s, they obviously had been here too long, born in the estate. Most likely they would never leave the grounds and would pass through the gate when they wished, but they were young, barely past being children and would not leave this side for quite some time. The left one was ever so slightly taller, but apart from this quirk the two were completely identical. Their slender bodies sometimes reminded strangers of fairies, so thin and fragile looking, but supple and graceful. What really got people going was their hair though, they both knew that and that was why they left it unadorned and so long. Some would call it blond, but that was a lie, it was quite obviously a pale yellow, flowing down to their hips in a long strait sheet, which never seemed to tangle. They paused, noses twitching, heads turning in unison to watch one of the entertainers approach them.

“Miss Bellefleur, Ms. Starks, you both shouldn’t be here.” They shook their heads, each of them glancing over only one of the ladies, not bothering with the other, like they didn’t need to if the other one already had. They looked at one another, knowing they were already late on picking up the guests, having had to arrange for the reporters to be gathered together. “Ms. Starks you are not allowed out here, their were agreements, you are either to drop off your entertainer and then leave or go to strait to the staff quarters, there are seats, food and you can watch the video stream from the security cameras. We can make you leave if you do not comply with the contract, see that you do.” The left twin spoke, though the right did not take her eyes of Iris. Neither of the twins liked having so many people around and with their mother so busy it was the first time the had been made to make such big decisions for the estate. As one they let their held hands fall apart, tucking fallen hair behind their ears.

“That said Iris you are required in the Herb Garden immediately.” Both of their eyes fixed on her now, blue eyes faintly glowing. “There is already an musician there waiting, you may want to talk to her first.” They looked at both the women, heads moving back and forth and then they were off, walking down to a small back door, designed for the servant when the house had run all those many years ago; when it was created. They moved through the low passageways, single file as many of the workers once would have. Stepping out into the second floor they stopped, brushing the dust off each other. Their motions were utterly precise, never getting in the way of one another, many people thought them oddly joined, physic, but in truth they just new each other that well. Looking over each other they smiled at their new uniforms, their mothers had made them and they fit perfectly. The blue was bright against their yellow hair and white frills gave them an aura of innocence.

“Ahh there you are, Ulva, Rea and… is Master Demetrius there?” They tilted their heads a smile coming to their lips, dangerously white teeth gleaming “We are ready to escort you down to the Herb Garden now. I think we have most of the Reporters under control now, so you needn’t worry.” They beckoned them, wishing to take them down the passageways and out into the garden so they could return inside and rest a while.

When the twins gave her no other choice than to leave, Ms. Starks simply gave them a stern gaze and said nothing. She had hoped to meet Thomas Thatcher and even convince him to take her along with the group. Even as far away as she was from the forest she could hear it’s calling. It was luring and something inside her ached to go there. It’s as if the Ruins would give her anything she wanted, an end to all her sufferings and cravings and even power…an incomprehensible amount of it. The 30 year old woman felt hateful at the thought of having to stay behind when the promise of something more greater than anything she had known laid within her reach. She knew that everyone else felt it as well. No matter the amount of money they’ve been paid, the guards would eventually succumb to it’s calling. She thought of the old man who started all of this with resentment. Did he not know the risk he had taken not only revealing the existence of this place to the world, but also to open its gates? The thought of him being in danger made her feel a bit better. Then she saw Iris looking with childish admiration at the twins and remorse took anger’s place.

“I shall stay in the staff quarters”, she replied. “Iris, remember that I’ll be watching you.” The girl took her eyes off the twins as if waking up from a daydream.
“And…behave.”, Ms. Starks continued with a low voice and gave her a subtle smile.
Iris watched her slow, stiff walk as she left them and suddenly the woman seemed much older, leaving an aura of loneliness behind her.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Ms. Starks!” she shouted joyful, trying to clear away the heavy feeling pressing on her heart. When she turned, the enigmatical twins were nowhere in sight. Heading towards the Herb Garden the dancer passed yet another set of guards and a hint of tension jolted in her neck as she saw more on the way. The overall feeling of authority was in deep contrast with the wilderness of the place, like a birthday cake filled with river stones: tasteless and rough. She hoped that by the end of the one day trip she wouldn’t have to see anything else except for plants, critters and the group of people chosen beforehand.

“I’m already wasting the day here” she thought restless and rushed to the green archway leading to the Herb Garden . It seemed to go on to infinity. Sun rays pierced the greenery making it glow, the ground was covered with petals and there was an intoxicating smell of fresh roses in the air. In the clearing she saw a a young girl, slightly older than her, reaching out for a violin. She had dazzling white hair, cut short at the mid-lengths and just a bit longer on the back. A fringe covered a part of her face, making it’s structure seem even more delicate. She had full lips that revealed the front pearly theeth.
Just in front of her, sitting on a white garden chair was an old man with his hands on his cane. He had the features of a kind and wise grandfather and Iris felt the impulse to kiss his wrinkled cheeks and serve him a cup of tea as she used to do with her father a long time ago. Beside him there was an epicurean buffet with various treats. Her stomach gurgled breaking the silence. With the face as red as a tomato, she stepped forward to greet them and suddenly felt even more anxious, dressed as she was in her frilly dance outfit, maybe a bit too revealing for the occasion. The folds of the skirt moved swiftly around her brushing softly against her legs. The vaporous material and the big artificial flowers hanging in her hair, top and bracelet made her look like a part of the scenery , but it drew more attention than she wanted to.

“He..hello!” she managed to say before another hint of pink filled her cheeks. “My name is Iris and I’m with the entertainment committee…group. I’m a dancer,” she said quickly as if this made her point and no other introduction was necessary. “I’m sorry I arrived late” she continued realizing she was in an embarrassing position to begin with “but I am honoured to be part of this and you have my eternal gratitude, Mr. Thatcher”. She took in a deep breath and smiled, her hands holding eachother in front of her lap.

After Madalene got the coffee stained note from Harvey, she immediately phoned him back so she could scold him for not talking to her first before sending them the picture. She wanted to go to the ruins, it's true, but she just hated how Harvey always did whatever he wanted. She was living in a flat that had a bedroom, kitchen and a small bathroom. She wasn't much into cleaning, her clothes were all over the place and Mitica the cat did as he pleased. She enjoined her little chaotic world, where she would feel like home. The gray drapes from her windows didn't let much light inside, giving a nice comfortable feeling.

She just woke up when she got the letter from Harvey, she still had her pink fuzzy dressing gown on and her hair was all messed up. She lit a cigarete, Harvey wasn't answering, maybe because he knew she would be grumpy so he was staying low until he got news from the people with the ruins. Dropping the phone on the kitchen table, she opened the half empty fridge and took the cat food out.
"Mitica uite ce am eu pentru tine!"She called for the cat in Romanian since he never listened to her when she used English.

He immediately followed her to his bowl, meowing at Madelene until he got the weird looking meat mix he always eats. This wasn't really her best day since she hadn't any work for some time so she didn't have much money left. "Thank God that I got me enough cat food and cigarettes while I had the cash.” she thought looking outside the window at the people that were moving around like ants. She was living at the ninth floor of the apartment building; she could see almost everything that counts from here.
"You know if I liked your food more, I wouldn't have to go outside now to eat ..." cat meowed at her back like he was trying to say that he wasn't going to share anyway. She smiled back at him and pet his head, the bedroom looked worse than any other day especially since she has been home more than usual. The phone started ringing, she ran back in the kitchen, looking for it:

"Yea ... Harvey is that you?" her tone sounded angry even the cat left the room when she started talking "I told you to talk to me about stuff like this, I mean how do you know i even want to go there? " she lit another cigarette, listening to what he was telling her on the phone she started making, herself a cup of coffee.
"Uuum sure Harvey, whatever you say, see you at the "MP"..." she hanged up and threw the phone back on the table .On her way to get dressed she spilled the freshly made coffee on the carpet. She left the mug on the floor and ran in the bedroom. The "MP" was the place they always eat together breakfast when they had a story to tell or when she was out of money. The lady that took care of the place was a wonderful cook; everything inside the place was made out of wood, very rustic. It looked like the kind of place where pirates would hang out and where you would expect seeing goblins running around. It had this magical feeling that Madalene never felt anywhere else.

She grabbed her coat, said goodbye to Mitica snuggling him, and then ran outside the hall.
"Mister Jones?" she said knocking on her neighbors door, he was a nice old man who would take care of Mitica and the apartment when she wasn't home. The door opened up, a funny looking man with long white hair came out.
"You going out again, Maddie?" he smiled at her, he was dressed in a black pair of pants and a band T-shirt with Kiss. He was quite the metalhead when he was young, or she thought.
"Yea, I'm going to meet up with Harvey. I might be very late today since I'm going to hunt down some jobs, damn those editors they hadn't called me anymore." she lit the third cigarette today, and gave the spare key to Mister Jones.

**************************************************************************************************************

At the place, Harvey was already eating a giant looking hamburger with fries and mayonnaise, he really loved that stuff. As much as he stuffed his face will all kind of disgusting food, he looked really good with his charcoal black hair and green eyes. He always dressed pretty fancy for what he was working with but he always managed to stain his shirt one way or another.
"Hey there, HARVEY!" she yelled at him, while grabbing his cheek.”I see you are having a great day, I wish i could say the same for me. BBBBBBBut thanks to the fact that i haven't had any work for the past month and for a very annoying friend of mine,” she tried taking another cigarette out but smoking wasn't allowed inside the "MP", so she changed he mind about that" my day isn't peachy at all"

She left him starring back at her, as she left towards the bar to order her food. Madalene picked the most expensive stuff from the menu, which was her own way of getting revenge on Harvey. She talked as loud as she could so he could hear the incredible amount of food she was ordering, Harvey had a weird smile on his face like he had a secret ace to win their little game.

While she started eating, stuffing her face with everything from the ten plates she had in front , it was clear she was in the worst mood possible. Without taking her eyes off Harvey who was strangely silent , she violently grabbed a big loaf of homemade bread.
"Ok...."she stopped a second to make room in her mouth to be able to speak her mind, she was being as rude as possible "What in the name of all humanity and cupcakes is wrong with you?" she took a long breath and with her fork she grabbed a big piece of meat."No growls, no Maddie you are insane, you will bankrupt me one day?"champing on the meat she gave him an evil glare as if she was going to hit him over the head with the table.

Harvey took out of his briefcase a fancy looking piece of paper, at a closer look it was some sort of letter or maybe a bill, like that was the last thing she needed today. He had a grin similar to the Cheshire cat from "Alice in Wonderland", calmly making himself comfortable so he can read better, Madalene continued to eat intently.
"Miss D'Abenville you are invited to join us at the ruins for you " he took a long pause , his white teeth were showing while he was smiling and she stopped so to hear him finish the sentence , her mouth was full and in her right hand she had a big chicken leg " are one of the LUCKY DRAWN!"

When she heard the last part, the excitement got to her and she started choking in the most unfeminine manner, Harvey got up trying to help her come back to her senses patting her back in amusement.
"You my dear friend, will make us both stinking riiich!" when her face went back to her normal color , she took the glass of water from the Cook who was also congratulating her.
"Can you even imagine what awaits you? I mean, I was thinking that maybe they will let you go with the media team but I wasn't expecting thiiiiiiiiiiis!"He laughed his head off, with one hand on his stomach and pointing towards the very annoyed woman.
"I , my dear , already have the plane ticket " he put them in front of her " all your clothes are packed , the suitcase is behind that table there .."His hand guided her view towards the cook who brought all her stuff to her. “And of course Mitica will be in my care until you come back, yes, yes, I already phoned Mister Jones."

Everyone inside started clapping , Madalene was so amazed by what just happened that for once she couldn't find anything to say. In less than 20 minutes she was in a cab, on the road to some enchanted forest.
"God, I hope they don't have unicorns ," she grumbled "I hate unicorns!"


*********************************************************************************************************************


She arrived shortly in England, where some kind of clone of a smiling Buddha was waving back at her , sitting near a very expensive looking car. He was trying to be as nice as he could, sadly for him none of his jokes got to her. She tried to be polite and once inside of the limousine, she found the soft, leather quite relaxing in comparison with what she went through the plane flight.

Harvey was nice enough to give her a list with some of the people that already arrived and other details that she didn't bother to remember. And, of course, he hadn't forgotten to pack her a giant supply of cigarettes and sweets, with a little extra so she won't forget to take some exclusive pictures for the "Paranormal Flavor".

She started talking to herself, with one hand in front to make sure she remembered everyone:
"So, we have this old guy who owns or maybe guards the place ....a Russian girl named Ulva , what did Harvey wrote ..?" she narrowed her eyes."Yea, blond and pretty, age 22.NEEEXT, Rea the gymnast, a very strong lady, Demetrius the writer, he didn't give any details about this guy!”

Taking a glance outside, it looked like they were getting closer to where she was supposed to arrive. She went back in her seat and started grumbling on her own:
"Elliot, the singer and Iris, the dancer, those are the entertaining girls. I think i heard some news about those too, probably some sort of celebrities...”She took a look outside again, the car had just stopped.

There was an incredible amount of people, especially reporters she guessed, they looked like a big bunch of hungry zombies. The big guy drove inside of the gates, the air here seemed different, she felt a strong pain on her right shoulder .Her old wound started burning and hurting like hell, this must really be some sort of enchanted forest. She exited the car; the entire place looked like it was cut out of a fairy tale.

Ulva leant up against the door to his room, her weight shifting back and forth from her left and right leg in a nervous habit. She was known to fidget in times where she was anxious or excited, this being one of those times. All she could think about was what was waiting for all of them outside... the trip to this place gave her many hours of time to think about anything she could possibly imagine.. the trees, which she imagined would be taller than the tallest buildings, flowers of every color of the rainbow, hell maybe even rainbows themselves! Creatures of every shape and size... She debated about bringing a camera to the forest but had decided not to. She would rather look through the lens of her eyes than the lens of a camera. As he answered her back, he mentioned that he would change and then go down with her. Ulva nodded happily, exiting his door and shutting it all the way to give him some changing privacy. Before she had shut it all the way she noticed he was pulling out a suit. It made her question her own attire, a pair of dark denim shorts and a cream colored knit-sweater. It was semi-formal but still leant more on the side of casual.

I didn’t bring anything formal, she thought to herself with a worried expression, wanting to kick herself for being unprepared. A sound of a door creaking made her head shift around over her shoulder, and watched as Rea came out. She was dressed in trousers and a lenin top, probably in the same category of casual wear as her. This made Ulva relax, letting the worry pass through her mind. Either the two were both in the same boat of being unprepared, or this guy, who she had yet to know his name, was getting too dressed up. Realizing that she was thinking too far into clothing made her chuckle at herself- it was not a big deal, and soon enough they would be going through a forest where it wouldn’t matter what was on your back as long as it covered you from getting cuts or scrapes from jutting branches or twigs.

“Yes, I am here,” she answered happily but the end of her voice trailed off as Rea waved her hand in a pausing motion, running back into her room for a moment and then quickly returned with a bag over her shoulder. Ulva wondered if she should bring her bag with her as well but nothing was in there besides clothes and her... knife! Of course, her father had given her their family heirloom in case it was necessary in the forest. At the time she thought it was overdoing it but now that Ulva had more time to consider the unknown, some form of protection could be useful, even if it was just used to cut open a piece of wild fruit.

“Hey, sorry about that, I just want to be ready,” Rea had said, flashing a set of pearly whites at Ulva. The friendly demeanor of the woman comforted Ulva who was used to living in a community where everyone was kind to one another. “And that is a good idea, I think I forgot something as well,” she said in response, herself waving a finger to get her to wait out in the hall while Ulva reopened her door and walked to her green backpack that was thrown on the futon in front of her massive bed. The sight of the room made her movement slower, absorbing the luxury while she could, wishing that she could carry this room home with her. She flipped open the front pocket to her bag, the blade in an elaborately decorated case of bronze and silver. She slipped the shiny metal out of its case to take a quick look at it, some light from a candle above reflected off the facets in the blade, casting a glow on the wall across the room. The heirloom had been in their family for generations and she still got goosebumps when holding it. She would thank her father again for letting her take it. She slipped the covered blade into her short’s back pocket, the tip of the handle visible. She wondered if it was even okay that she was carrying such an object but soon enough she would find out. Ulva exited the room quietly, even the slightest noise echoing off the tall walls and ceiling. It was all very fascinating.

She appeared out into the hall once more, Rea still waiting there in her graceful posture that seemed inborn, and it appeared the other man was still changing. Rea began to mention that she received a phone call to her room from the twins telling them to wait up here until they could take them down to the Herb Garden. She also mentioned the reporters and their insistence on getting photos of them, as if they were celebrities. Ulva got a pit in her stomach, a flashback of the large, rosy cheek official that met in at the Russian airport resurfacing in her mind.. You have to make our country look good... don’t do anything to shame our people... you could face police arrest.. Ulva shook her head, trying to erase the blabbering face of the man from her mind. If the reporters weren’t allowed to take photos of them that would be a major relief off of Ulva’s shoulders, for it would take away any risk of paparazzi catching her in an awkward posture or manipulating the photo in some manner to ruin her life. “I see, well, I’m glad they are considering our privacy in the matter... I don’t want my photos in any paper,” Ulva said softly, leaning up against the hallway's wall as she watched Rea slide down the wall next to her bag, running her fingers through the plush carpet. It grew silent in their hall, making the noises from the floor below seem amplified. Ulva could here the footsteps of workers running back and forth, and if she wasn’t mistaken some music coming from outside. In all aspects, this was more elaborate than she could ever possibly imagine.

The silence was broken as the twins emerged in the opening doors of the wing, their matching outfits glimmering under the natural light that filled the room. They were like living dolls, though a slight creepier, but still charming in their mirrored motions. The two seemed pleased to see Rea and herself out there waiting, and then they asked where Master Demetrius was. Ah ha! Demetrius, Ulva thought happily, glad to put a name to the face of the stranger. It seemed as soon as they mentioned his name, he appeared in his doorway ready to go with the flow. His quiet demeanor made him mysterious, a trait Ulva always found intriguing since due to her natural curiosity. She eyed him with a smirk on her face, then looked back towards the twins who beckoned the three of them to move forward and follow them. The group seemed to nod in unison and walked patiently behind the tiny strides of the twins. The girls took them down passageways and around corners, down the main stairwell that they had came up, and then back to the Grand Hall. Once there, the continued forward through romanesque archways and pillars of while plaster, beautiful in every aspect. Ulva could see doors ahead, made of pure glass that gave a fancy view into the Herb Garden which they were destined to arrive. Within minutes servants had opened the doors for the group, the aroma of fresh flowers filling Ulva’s senses as they made their way outside once more. Luckily she couldn’t see any reporters, but instead the old, gentle features of Thomas Thatcher who was accompanied by two entertainers- one, a violinist and the other appeared to be a dancer. Both the performers where beautiful and the music was just right, the perfect relaxing hymn that fit like a glove with the surroundings. There were herbs of every sort with little paper markers to identify what was what. Ulva couldn’t help but smile brightly, and it stuck there. Her vision traveled back to the familiars she knew of, the two other Lucky Drawn, Rea and Demetrius. Now that they were here, it seemed the adventure was about to begin.

The house looked impressive but since Madalene grew up in the high society she didn't really care much neither was she amazed. She wasn't an outdoor person either so even if she indeed admitted that the place had its own charm she was more worried if they allowed smoking around here. The pain from her back was worse than from when she got to the airport, maids and some other people that probably worked at the mansion came swarming towards here. The big smiling driver gave her the purse and handed over her suitcase to a man dressed like a receptionist in a very expensive hotel.

She followed this guy inside in the hall, he apologized that the master of the house, Mister Thatcher, was now in the herb garden with the other guests. Someone was already on the way to inform him of her arrival and that she would right after join the others outside. One of the maids came rushing towards Madalene and lead her to a waiting room. This place was probably newly furnished for this occasion since it had a big bulky bar made out wood that looked kind of too modern for this place. She sat down on a leather sofa with one hand on her shoulder; it started burning again and was really warm.

The maid asked if she needed anything meantime, she ordered Jägermeister with lemon and lit a cigarette. By her request, the suitcase remained with her sitting now near the small coffee table. She tried to keep her mind off the pain and itching from her back, in the end she grabbed her purse and suitcase and went searching for a bathroom. She found one at the end of the main hall, it was very luxurious.

Madalene sat on the toilet and got her voice recorder out and placed it on the sink near the mirror. A small click, the little cassette was now ready to work, and she always used this on her travels. Openning the suitcase, Madalene was undressing:
"Day one in Wonderland, This is Alice the Red" she was naked and barefoot, the floor felt cold and refreshing "nothing special yet, the place is really fancy and everyone is trying their best to keep the guests happy. The media is doing their thing , annoying everyone with their buzzing."


She turned with her back towards the mirror so to see how the scar was doing, it was swelling and pink. You couldn't notice the original form it had , normally it would look like some sort of creature , that could just be her imagination after all.
"I didn't get to meet the old guy yet," she took some toilet paper and hold it under the cold water from the faucet "he is holding some sort of meeting with the other Lucky Drawn in the ... uum.. herb garden. What is he, some sort of shaman? This would be my first herb garden visit."
She laughed and then gave a small sigh when the damp paper touched her skin, it felt damn good.
"So ..." her hand moved around, something was wrong, she felt a thing coming out of the shoulder "What the hell?"Her eyes grew big; she pulled slowly at whatever it was.

When it was finally out, her back felt so much better as if nothing happened, the recorder was still on .Her arm moved slowly back in place so she could take a better look on what was now covered by the wet bolster. Opening her hand she discovered a big brown feather, she looked stupefied at it and reached to touch her shoulder taking a second look. The scar was now back to normal, there was no hole in her skin or anything like that.
"This is Alice the Red ..." her voice was shaking "a damn feather just came out of my shoulder. Thats all for today." she closed the recorder and placed it back in the purse.

Madalene frowned and grabbed a black dress; it was very short and sleeveless. Made out of velvet, the material was caressing her white soft skin, it had a very a deep cleavage that revealed her round, medium sized breasts. Her new shoes were also black, patent leather, with high heels, Harvey must have picked the outfits .She let her blood red hair free to fall down on her back, the brown feather she placed on a clip adorned with pearls that was holding her fringe into place.

A knock on the door brought her back to reality, it was the maid, and she was probably searching for her since she went out without telling anyone. Answered back, putting everything in its place, then returned in the waiting room. The woman was continuously apologizing for everything that she could; Madalene was lost in thought while playing with her improvised hair clip.

She took a sip from the glass, it was sweet and minty with the right amount of sour, even if she was with the "Paranormal Flavor" and worked on all kind of strange stories, what happened in the bathroom really disturbed her. Madalene already had smoked from when she returned 5 cigarettes, Harvey would probably just make fun of her and blame the chaos in her apartment for what happened. She could already hear him:
"Ooow come on Maddie , the thing must have gotten stuck on your back when you got dressed in the morning , you didn't even notice until it started bruising your skin with that sharp tip." after this witty response he would laugh and give her a strong pat on the back.

And God how she needed that, he could have came along here, in the enchanted forest, as he always did. For some reason, there was no way of convincing him this time , she placed the cigarette in the crystal ash tray. She hated being alone with her thoughts in moments like this , her mobile phone had no signal here .The door opened and a man with bright red hair similar to her entered the room.

Beep…beep…beep…

Shafts of sunlight beamed through a huge bay window. The sounds of morning birds whistling and singing could be heard. A gentle breeze moved the light white curtains, causing them to billow and move in a calming motion. Outside cars could be hard distantly, making their way through the morning traffic. But the roar of engines was a long way off and the sound of nature and the countryside was all that could be heard. As light pushed its way further into the room, it lit up with a wondrous morning beauty. A vast room, decorated clearly to the taste of a young artist. Modern and contemporary mixed nicely with a touch of kitsch with an Irish country twist. The dark wooden floors shone with a newfound brilliance, the white walls reflecting the light throughout the room. Each wall was covered in various pieces of art, from exotic collages to peaceful country scenes. Dominating the room was a large bed, situated in the middle. Clothes were strewn around the floor, thrown without a care. Across one of the walls sat a wardrobe and a chest of drawers, both in the same wood as the floorboards. Overhead, heavy beams stretched across the ceiling, again matching the wood upon the floor. Although generally a mess, a neat pile of paperwork was piled upon a large desk in one of the corners. Upon the computer chair sat a very fat, fluffy tabby cat, purring contently in the warmth of the morning sun. Its yellow eyes flickered to the bed, narrowed in contempt at the alien noise invading its peaceful rest. In the corner sat a large purple suitcase and a large pink briefcase. Balanced precariously on top was an arrangement of jeans and t-shirts, clearly still needing to be packed.

Beep...beep…beep…

The cat on the chair stretched, arching its body and leaping off with as much grace as any royal. Padding across the room, it sat at the foot of the bed on the floor, letting out a soft shriek of annoyance. Groaning, a body hidden beneath white sheets stirred. A flash of skin as a pale arm fell limply and hung, suspended in the air beside the bed. Twisted in the folds of the sheets were two bare legs, a pink scar across one of the knees. Brown hair was fanned carelessly across the white pillow, though the face was hidden. The cat saw an opportunity and wandered towards the hand. Baring its white, pointy teeth, it sunk them playfully into the flesh upon the hand. A squeak came from under the sheets, which were hastily ripped away revealing Elise Burn, who was scowling through sleep ridden eyes. With a yawn, she snatched her hand away, moving it closer for inspection. Puncture marks wept blood, leaving it painful and red. Glaring at the cat, she rubbed her eyes with her other hand, getting rid of the sleep that resided there. The constant beeping was starting to give her headache. Why was her alarm making so much noise? Glancing at it with a confused look, it took her a moment to realise the time.

Panic tightened her chest. She was late. Incredibly, amazingly late. Tearing the covers from her slender frame, her legs became tangled. Starting forwards, she fell heavily off the bed. The fat tabby let out a yowl and tore from the room, hair standing on end, tail bolt upright, ears back. Lying sprawled on the floor, she muttered a curse under her breath. Today was not off to a good start. Scrambling to her feet, she slammed her hand on the alarm clock to silence it. Crumpled her pink t-shirt and shorts were splattered with red and blue paint. Two bright eyes shone brightly with a smudge of paint above her eyebrow. Quickly she headed for the en suite bathroom, grabbing her clothes as she went. Elise had a flight in less than two hours from Dublin into England. She could not be late for it. Running a hand through her thick layered hair, she skidded across the cold bathroom floor to the mirror. In an unbelievable short amount of time, she cleaned herself, brushed her teeth vigorously and ran a comb through her hair. Tugging her stylishly ripped jeans and casual t-shirt on, she gave herself one last look before grabbing the finally pieces she needed to pack from the bathroom and returned hastily to her room. The tabby had taken up residence on the bed, between the white sheets. He now screamed to be fed, squawking loudly.

(Outfit)

“Max, hush now,” Elise muttered jamming the clothes she had left on top of her suitcase last night and her new items into the already full suitcase. Pushing it onto the floor, she sat on it to do up the zip, tugging it roughly shut. With a deep breath, she took a moment, before getting to her feet. Snapping up the handle, she pulled the suitcase into the hall taking the briefcase with it, with the cat striding gracefully behind. Her briefcase contained her sketchbook and everything else she needed in the art department. When she had rung in advance, once she had decided to attend the opening of the ruins, they had insisted that some canvases would be provided in her suite so that she did not have to travel with them. Elise stopped at the kitchen to put some food down for Max. He would be fed by a neighbour whilst she was away. Snatching up an apple, she headed for the door without giving her father’s cat another look. He was not her favourite thing in the whole world and she was glad to see the back of him.

********

“Please, I know I’m late,” Elise said with a half smile, pushing strands of brown hair from her eyes. “But I’m here now and the plane is clearly still there.” Standing her suitcase next to her she looked imploringly at the woman at the check-in desk who was regarding her with guarded eyes, ready for a fight. One that Elise was not going to give. Instead she plastered her best smile on her face, giving the most innocent look possible, but the woman shot her down before she could even say another word. If she’d been male then she would have given in to that pretty smile. Unfortunately for Elise, she was most definitely female, if only with a hint of a moustache.
“I’m afraid Miss Burn that you are too late to check-in. Had you been here five minutes earlier than I would have allowed you on-board. However you were not.” The brisk, brittle tone made Elise’s smile falter, if only for a second.
Well someone’s a jobs worth aren’t they? Elise thought to herself, biting back a laugh as she watched the woman click on her computer.
“We have another flight for tomorrow at noon.”
“That’s no good, I’m afraid.” Elise told her with a sigh. Chewing her bottom lip, she gave another bright smile. “That’s no good because by that time I should be in the ruins. I suppose you’ve heard of the Terran ruins? Well, obviously you have, everyone has. It’s all over the news.” She watched the woman’s scowl turn into a frown. Elise spoke lightly enough, there was nothing threatening in her tone. “Well, I’m Elise Burn. I’m a renowned artist and one of the Lucky Draw. I need this flight.” Realisation flashed across the woman’s face and she reached hastily for the phone.

Twenty minutes later and Elise was nestled safely on her flight.

********

It was only a short flight and therefore had no effect on Elise’s well being. Striding through the terminal with her pink briefcase slung carelessly over her shoulder, she made her way through the crowd to collect her suitcase, which was soon rolling behind her smoothly. She edged around an American family who were all hugging, if only to keep up appearances, and scanned the crowd with her eyes, ignoring their cries of welcome. So what happened next? In the letter that she had received, she was told that a lift would be there to pick her up. Elise remembered the day the later had arrived. Joel had been there, reviewing her next collection for their art gallery.

”Eliiiiise you have mail!” His deep Irish accent sounded odd when he elongated her name like that. Elise had been throwing paint at a canvas for over an hour. Turning, she placed her paintbrush down, rubbing her hand across her forehead to rid it of the sweat. “It looks official! I want to open it.” Quickly, she dashed through the kitchen where Joel was tearing the edge of an envelope.
“That’s mail fraud,” She scowled with a smile, snatching the letter from his grasp. Ripping it open, she read silently, eyes widening with every word that went by. She simply could not believe it.
“Tell me, what it is?!” Joel demanded, seeing the look upon her face. He tried to take it from her, but she moved away so she could finish. He let her. Without a word, she handed it to him when she was done. He read it quickly, his eyes as wide as hers.
“Well you have to go Elle!” He exclaimed, throwing the letter on the granite worktop and pulling her into a hug. She laughed, shaking her head.
“Oh I don’t know Joel,” He dropped her, stepping back, a look of shock on his face. “I’m nowhere near finishing the next collection; I have too much-“
“Screw the collection! This is a one in a life-time thing Elle! Don’t mess this up…”
Chewing her bottom lip, she smiled. “No, you’re right. I should go.” She grinned, throwing her arms around him.

Moving around some more holiday goers, she almost bumped into a tall man dressed in a suit with a bowtie. Stepping back, she fixed him a smile, about to apologise when he spoke before she had a chance.

“Miss Elise I would assume?” Frowning, she nodded to his question. Before she could ask a single question, he took her suitcase and began to stroll towards the exit. Confused, Elise followed him quickly, though she had an idea who he was. Her trainers made a squeaking noise on the polished white floor, which stunk of disinfectant. The whole airport was full of different smells. Sweat, smoke, fast food, you name it, Elise could smell it. Scrunching up her noise, she looked around at the many commuters who were awaiting flights or had just come back from holiday. Those who were coming back looked more stressed and depressed than those going out. That was England for you. A blast of fresh air brought Elise to her senses as she realised they were heading out of the automatic doors and sure enough her suspicions were correct. Her belongings were being loaded upon a bus that read “Terran ruins” down the side. Nodding her head as a thank you, she gave a last smile to the man who had taken her suitcase and climbed up the stairs onto the bus that would carry her to her destination…

I didn't mean... I’m so sorry... you see there were these voices coming from the forest and I got mad because I thought someone was playing a trick on me so I forgot about the contract... but that no excuse." Elliot took a breath; flustered with embarrassment her cheeks had turned a light pink." I'm very sorry Mr.thatcher, it won't happen again." Elliot at least hoped it wouldn't. She walked silently along with Mr. Thatcher; as soon as they arrived at the herb garden she excused herself. Mumbling another scattered apology, eager to get her seat. It wasn’t till she sat down she noticed her silent guard. He must have joined us when I wasn’t looking, she thought. “Hello there.” She said timidly “I’m Elliot.” She held out her hand giving a small smile. She compressed her annoyance of having to be assigned a babysitter and hoped the others wouldn’t notice. She didn’t want to seem like a child to them. She was a grown woman that was the impression she wanted to make, she would try to refrain form being childish.

The guard accepted her hand giving it a small squeeze. “My name is Terry, I will be keeping you company for some time.” He said his voice was deep and very serious. Elliot despite herself pouted a little. He didn’t seem like a very talkative person. Oh well she did have a job to do. “It nice to meet you terry, if you’ll excuse me.” Elliot took a seat that was set up around the front of the garden; it was in view from the whole garden. She noticed same people looking at her, she ignored them completely focusing on setting up. She opened her case, taking out her violin she set it upon her shoulder. The weight felt comforting to her, familiar. She brought up the bow. She testing one string finding it slightly off she adjusted it trying again. She continued this with all the strings until she was completely satisfied everything was put right.

She began to play, she started out with a slow classical sound, and although it was classical it had a more positive undertone. It was also one of the first pieces she had mastered, so she thought it appropriate for such an event. As she played Elliot could feel all her muddled feelings and embarrassment disappear. She even forgot about the voices that had clouded her mind since she heard them. It had been along time since she had felt this way while playing; it must be this place she thought. It had given her a little bit of spirit back.


~~~

Nim’s ears twitched as a sound reached them; it was unfamiliar as it was alluring. Sitting up quickly, balanced upon the branch. Nim quirked her ear again trying to catch the location of this sound. It had been a long time since she had heard anything like it. It reminded Nim of her days long ago in china. The sound at the time was simple compared to this but you could still here it ancestor along it’s notes. Nim remembered for a short moment the first time she had heard it. She had been lazy around in the high mountains, playing and teasing the many farmers along the mountains base she would take something and hide it. It wasn’t very nice but Nim, in return for the fun had helped them along with their crops, so it was a fair trade. The farmers however did not see it as so and sent a priest up the mountain in hopes of driving out the ‘evil’ demon.

A small man walked along the steep paths that lead to the top of the mountain. He staggered little as the path got narrower. Unknown to him, small brown eyes followed him along his way. Before long the man, priest sat down in the shade of a nearby tree. He set down his bag taking from it a strange wooden box with strings on top of a hole in the middle. The creature who had been watching corurisly as the man began to play the box. From it came a very simple but soothing sound. The creature made it way closer.It ducked down sitting in front of the man. It peered at him. The man stopped playing, looking at the creature in form of him he said. “So you’re the little demon who has been playing the tricks, your different from what I expected.”

The creature froze. jumped back it made it's way up into a nearby tree. Its face was nothing but a mask of surprise, it pouted at what it was called . “I’m not a demon, I’m Nim.” Nim said reproachfully. The priest chuckled.”My apologies Nim I see now you are not a demon.” He said a wise smile on his lips. Nim scrunched her nose up, 'she' wasn’t fond of being chuckled at by this strange man. “I’ll forgive you,” She paused getting an idea. “But only if you keep playing for a little longer.” The man nodded. “I’ll play but only for a little while, I’ll play longer still if you promiose to stop playing tricks.” Nim nodded eager to hear the sound again. The man started playing again, this time a sadder song then the last.

Nim came back from her memories , even after the man had made the promise he had still visited her a while longer to play.He had groen older with every visit, then just didn't come back. She made the decision to see for herself who was making the sound. She started off toward were she assumed it originated, the place where all the humans were gathering.

“What the hell do you mean I can’t bring this onboard? You have Sky Marshalls on board with fucking guns!” A voice came through the locked room holding about four people, a large machete and a hunting knife sitting on the desk, a young man with dirty blond hair looking rather irritable. “That’s for your safety, sir, now I must ask you why you’re bringing these things with you.” A middle aged white male sat in front of him, looking Ezreal dead in the eyes, making him roll back in his chair and pull against the handcuffs around his wrists, “Are you fucking kidding me!?” He yelled at him, a larger male grabbing his shoulders and sitting him back down in his seat. “I’ve told you crack pots fifty times, I use them when I’m on expeditions, and the like. Have you ever tried to fight a god damn bear off with your bare hands?” Ezreal’s face cleared up as well as his voice, being more of a smart ass than anything at this point. “Sir, you don’t have to take that tone of voice with me.” The man said, a monotone droning voice behind him. “And you don’t have to act like you have a stick up your ass either," Ezreal caught his breath before beginning again, "I understand what you’re trying to do but for fucks sake, there’s a damned lock box in the cabin for things like this!” He sat back in his seat, his lower back hurting slightly from sitting in that flat metal chair for so long.

“You’ve got my flight delayed for a god damn hour because of this, Jesus Christ!” He sat back in his chair, shaking some of the curls out of his face, “You do realize I’m one of the few people in the world to represent our nation on this trip right?” He asked, cocking his head to the side slightly, “What would your higher ups think about this when it’s so damn easy to resolve?” Ezreal was beyond pissed at this point, extortion was going to come out one way or the other. The older man cocked his eye brow and looked up at the guy behind Ezreal, who he had yet to set eyes on, “I have one more question for you…” The man asked, still staring at Ezreal who glared back at him, “Are you a terrorist?”
Ezreal’s eyes lit up like a pipeline exploding. He closed his eyes and didn’t move an inch, his left heel coming off the ground rather quickly, tapping against the floor. He took in a deep breath and slowly let it out, “YOU STUPID SON OF A BIT-“ His words were cut off as the door behind him swung open, another man walking in with papers, and Ezreal’s flight ticket.
“Frank what in the hell are you doing?” The voice came from behind him, making Ezreal want to look around and cuss someone else out.
“Sir I’m just following procedure, an-“
“Oh like hell-“ Ezreal chimed in,
“Frank, we were told about him three days ago.” The man that was originally behind him walked up behind Ezreal, taking a pair of keys and coming up next to him. The man was probably half black and half white, taking the cuffs off. “We’re very sorry sir, please, I’ll escort you to your flight.” Ezreal turned his head and nodded to the guy, his eyes turning from their position and glaring at the middle aged man in front of him. “Frank, I want to see you in my office as soon as this gentlemen’s flight has left.” The guy seemed to want to say something, but kept his mouth shut and nodded. The higher up stepped back as Ezreal stood up, snatching his items off the desk, staring at the man for a second before turning to the other one, motioning for Ezreal to follow him out the door, “Thanks for clearing that up, Mr. …” Ezreal’s voice trailed, barely catching a glance at the man’s name tag, “Sherman.” The man shook his head, “No, there’s no need. I apologize for his actions, but after the 11th we can’t help but do things like this, though this was well over the line.” The man held the door open for Ezreal who was handed his duffel bag as he stepped through the door. Ezreal nodded slightly as he turned a corner, allowing Mr. Sherman to get in front of him.

They reached the gate and Sherman held his hand out, “If you’ll allow me to take these I’ll be sure to have these put in a safe place where they will be returned to you after you have landed.” Ezreal nodded and handed the blades to the man, a woman near them taking the ticket from the man’s hand and allowing him access to the plane. “Have a nice trip Mr. Jaeger.” Sherman said, splitting from him as they entered the plane, “Thanks, I’ll try to.” Was Ezreal’s reply, giving a faint wave to the man as he turned to get to his seat. There weren’t very man people on this plane, though probably just enough to compensate for the trip there and back. He had a feeling he was going to be the last one to reach the Hatfield Airport, and probably the last to reach the Thatcher household. This irritated Ezreal a little, but what could he do about it at this point…

Ezreal slid his bag into a over head compartment and took his seat next to the window, taking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly as he gained his composure. Ezreal closed his eyes as the captain explained their current situation and to listen to the stewardess as they explained procedures, A.K.A, things Ezreal already knew. He went ahead and fastened his seat belt, looking around the plane at the people there. ‘At least there wasn’t the usual baby crying in the background’ He thought to himself, though maybe a little too soon as one started up across the plane from him, making his eyes roll.

Ezreal looked down at the collar of his shirt and unbuttoned it once, the black polo shirt loosening up a little. The white of his underarmor shirt was easily seen on his tanned skin. It was but a short amount of time before the plane was on its way, coming to cruising altitude and finally the cue that they could use electronics. He reached in his pocket and pulled out a mp3 player, a Zune HD which had seen better days, scratches on the screen here and there and on the back. Ezreal thumbed through the songs, passing over song after song of different genre’s, though were predominately dubstep and the like. He picked a song and leaned back in his chair a little, closing his eyes and staring at the ceiling for a moment before his head turned and looked out the window at the clouds and blue sky; a deep breath escaping his lungs after turning his head and shutting his eyes.

The unloading was slow, but at a faster pace than what he was used to sitting through. He made his way to customs, having to emptying his cargo jeans into a plastic bin as well as his duffel bag. As he passed through a man came up to him, dressed as normal air port security, holding a small bag in their hands. “This is yours, sir, place keep this concealed until you leave the area.” Ezreal nodded, suppressing a yawn as he grabbed his things, walking to the entrance. A rather plain looking man walked up to him, you average height and build with brown hair and eyes, “Mr. Jaeger I presume?” Ezreal nodded to him, the man motioning for him to follow. The man came up beside him, “May I take your bags sir?” Ezreal hesitated though handed them over, all accept for his machete and knife. The man glanced at the bag and seemed to remember something, “We were informed you had a blade over seven inches on your person…” The trailing voice almost requested an answer, Ezreal nodding to him yet again. “You will be required to put it in our care while you stay, it should have been said before you we do not allow such into the ruins.” Ezreal nodded, liking this explanation more than getting thrown around and slapped into handcuffs. “It will be put away safely until you and your fellow guests depart.” The man didn’t glance at Ezreal once as he was speaking, “I got it.” He stated, the man now explaining if he would hand his things to him, he’d put them on the bus. He also mentioned he would take the machete and put it in the correct location as well. Ezreal waited until they were outside the airport and pulled his hunting knife from the small bag, slipping it into his duffel bag and handing the contents in his hand to the guy. The blade was just under seven inches so there shouldn’t be a problem with him taking that in… Right?

“Thank you sir, enjoy your stay.” Ezreal nodded, “Thanks” Coming from his mouth as he looked to the bus in front of him. “Guess this is it…” He said to himself, catching it seconds before the doors closed. There seemed to be more reporters than anything, though there were a few civilians onboard. Ezreal found himself a seat and watched out the window as they left to their destination. He looked around and noticed a brunette sitting across the buss and one row behind him, noting she didn’t seem to be a reporter. He kept his eyes on her for a second before turning them back around, glancing back out the window. A single headphone made its way into his right ear, allowing one to pick up the low chatter in the buss. For his line of work, his tastes in music broke the mold. Though he didn't have a problem listening to anything, country wasn't his thing... At least all the time. He thought there may have been a connection from the peyote his cousins got him to try, thinking it was just tobacco, but that was five years ago...

Thomas smiled at Iris, nodding gently at her words, feeling little need to say much to them. He pointed softly, with tired wrinkled hands as to where she should stand and then sat back in his chair, waiting. The sun was pleasant against his old skin and he listened for a while to the sound of people in this place usually dominated by bird song and silence. To his left came the three guests, one of them looking as awkward in smart dress as him. He stood slowly, the music starting up and guided them quietly to their seats, where the waiters poured them drinks and gave them small plates of food, things that the had thought to be well suited to each.

“Right, welcome you three.” He said speaking after the first piece of music had finished. “ I think I will show you the forest and Ruin’s myself. The girls.” He nodded to his two odd maids “Will show the others around, they should be arriving shortly. I hope you don’t mind?” He asked looking over them. A welcome cold breeze shifted around him, cooling his face and moving his wiry grey hair slightly. He took slow ambling steps towards them, knowing they would have finished any light snacks they had wished to eat by now. His cane clicked across the stone paving around the sundial and he wondered if any of them, himself included, were prepared for what awaited them today. His knees were a little weak today, but as ever his cane kept him up. Suddenly to his left appeared one of the Twins, holding his elbow with her own strong grip, he had always wondered at the rational of keeping such young girls here, but they seemed happy. She smiled up at him, her swathe of yellow hair moving back from her features, showing her ever so slightly to sharp teeth. He watched her with warm eyes; they were like his grandchildren after all, having no family of his own any more.

“I will look after him, don’t you worry.” Rea spoke softly, her hand replacing the girls smoothly. “He’s in good hands with us.” She hooked her bag up on her shoulder and looked to see if the others were following them as the old man started to walk out along a path t the entrance of the forest. She smiled at the man, her eyes warm, she seemed to be a genuine hard worker and she appreciated such things. He was light on her arm, used to lifting almost anything that was asked of her, she was a working girl through and through and had never shrugged off any responsibility given to her. The world seemed to hush at the first step into the trees through a slight arch. The sounds of all the people dropping away and being taken over by the rustle of leaves gently tossed by the breeze and sweet songbirds shrills all about them. The light became muted, yet somehow clearer, sparkling through the gaps in the trees and falling in shafts to the green plants growing happily in the light they could get.

The path was long and winding, leading them from the newer trees, still taller than she could imagine, to the older trees, warped yet beautiful. Her eyes were wide and she could help but picture herself flying between the trees and practicing her tumbles or acrobats. As she walked, Thomas seemed to get stronger, standing straighter and straighter, soon no longer needing her help. She loved the feel of the ground beneath her feet, through soft-soled shoes, toes digging slightly into the yielding surface. She pulled her bag down from her back, she pulled some of her short poi, soft enough not to damage herself, anyone or anything around her. She swayed slightly as she swung them around her in an ease double twist, enjoying how it lengthened her arms. They hissed through the air with little sound and gave her hands something to do as they came closer to the ruins, letting the aura of the place soak into her.

Above them he caught a glimpse of a golden pelt and made sure not to look for too long as he did not want his friend to be caught. They could see the ruins now, just through the trees, they appeared differently to everyone, the only bit people could agree on was the totems, at the top of the low-sloped hill they were coming too. He knew the others would want to stop at the first part of the ruins and explore, but he shook his head, waving them on after them. Slowly they climbed the slight hill, coming at the top to a hill that barely surpassed the trees surrounding it. Atop the hill were three oddly shaped constructions, sitting oddly around the crown of the hill. He sat at the center where a small picnic had been set up with a ground sheet for them to all sit on, though he was aware they would likely not stay there.

“Well this is the center of the ruins, where the people here would come to pray to the gods and ask for favors. Later when people stopped using it for this reason people though it a fairy mound, stealing away their children, though there are no reports of imposter children being place in the family’s care like most other tales of this kind.” He paused looking up at the old things, bricks falling out of them. “You can feel free to explore wherever you want, I have myself been up through most of the old rooms and even atop one of these constructions. As long as you are careful they are sturdy, the surveyors we had to have look said despite their look of disrepair, these buildings could be new.” He sighed, looking around. As soon as the three had left, he expected Jinan to appear and ask him many questions about them and what he thought. He lay back easily knowing that if anyone needed him they could easily find him here, since the whole forest slowly went up to this point, so all you needed to do was head up hill.

“This is amazing, the structures, I’ve never seen anything like them. They seem like an impossible shape, impossible to be standing up.” She walked over to one, the wind whipping around them a little and reached to touch one. The stones seemed to thrum under her fingers, though she knew it was impossible and the wind seemed to still, allowing the suns heat to touch her skin once more. She walked around once, awe obvious from her expression. She slipped off her shoes, letting her toes dip once more into the grass, though it was tougher here and let out a content smile. She looked around at the other two, a huge smile on her large soft lips, which lit her eyes with a sparkling light. She walked back evenly, moving towards Ulva, someone she had already taken a liking too. She wished to climb the amazing structures, but did not yet feel comfortable enough to do so. So she decided exploring would be just as great fun and to see it with others, to experience the place would be even better.

“Do you guys want to come look with me?” She asked tilting her head.

******************************

The twins stood still while everyone left, their hearts beating rapidly with excitement, they had not been in the forest since they were five. To be chosen to show the guests around was a huge responsibility, but all they could think was to get back to the ruins, a place that had called to them both since birth. No one had ever been raised here, not in 200 years and the effects had been odd on them, though not quite shown yet. Both the ruins and the forest were hungry for life once more, it was a place to be lived in after all. The girls looked out, watching the others go and knowing they too soon would be following them. A few moments later as one they saw the form of Jinan, a creature they had never been allowed to meet, but had seen once or twice in their short time on earth. They blinked rapidly, fingers twining into one another’s. Only a few moments later they watched Nim shoot out of the forest, now Nim they knew well, the little creature had spoken with them many times and the Twins liked to think of her as a friend.

“Nim.” Called Sasha, her voice high and sweet. “Nim!” Called
(not finished, sorry guys)

Ulva was quick to take her seat as Mr. Thatcher waved his hand towards their chairs. The table was elegant, the while tablecloth a contrast to the firework of colors that made up the natural surroundings. She moved her blond hair that was in a braid to the center of her back, tucking loose strands from her face as so it wouldn’t get in the way of her meal. A waiter came up from behind her not even a few seconds later, gracefully situating a plate of gourmet food in front of her... and to the looks of it, it was clearly Russian cuisine. She looked towards the others’ to see if they had received the same course, but it appeared theirs were unique as well. They had truly given her a meal from her home, something she would be familiar with and love. She had recognized the food on her plate instantly. It was a traditional course of Pelmeni, pastry dumplings filled with meatballs. They were floating in a broth of soup, the steam rising to Ulva’s face in a welcoming sniff. To the side was a miniature bowl of morozhenoe, Russian ice cream, with nut and fruit toppings. As a drink the waiter continued to fascinate her, pouring her a tiny glass of Moskovskaya vodka. She wasn’t much of a drinker, but of course vodka made her feel right at home and she appreciated the thought. And of course she would drink it, she needed something to shake the nerves away. Ulva thanked the waiter repeatedly before he soon walked away, himself seeming flustered with all the thanks. She began to eat her meal happily, her empty stuff grateful for the substance. Meanwhile they ate, the violinist continued to play. The melody made her almost lose track of time, before she knew it those around her had already finished eating and she was licking the spoon of her ice cream.

Tom’s voice surfaced to her ear, listening as he said he would personally take them to the Ruins. Ulva nodded excitedly as she placed her spoon down, scooting out of her chair to a standing position. “Of course! Of course,” she responded, not minding at all that the owner of the grounds was giving them an exclusive trip. She partly feel guilt on making him walk, clear that he was dependent on his cane to keep him going. Ulva watched as Rea fluidly moved to his side, taking his elbow to support Thatcher as he walked. It was a kind gesture, something she would have eagerly down as well if he didn’t already have help. Anything to show her gratitude. The group was being led forward, from a path that began in the Herb Garden towards the forest line of trees that seemed to hug the clouds. Ulva could keep a hushing noise as well the moment they crossed the border that clearly defined the estate from the forest. It was a silence that could defy itself, muffling out the drones of feet shuffling from behind her. She could hear her breath, the snapping of dead twigs below her feet. The path winded around bends, fitting in with the woods born layout instead of man cutting through trees to make his own. It was a reverence that Ulva knew of all too well and appreciated, the forests in her homeland that she hikes also working with the surroundings. Currently she was wearing her brown suede hiking books, happy she made the decision to dawn them even if they clashed with the rest of her outfit. She wasn’t the one to care much for fashion anyway. Ulva watched the others in the group, their expressions of awe and intrigue matching her own. It seemed Rea had pulled out some poi, slightly spinning them, seeming to be lost in the motions. Ulva wondered what they were actually, figuring they were some form of gymnast toy but she couldn’t say for sure. She then looked over towards Demetrius, wondering what was going on in his mind, still staying somewhat quiet as he followed them on the path.

And then there it was, the tops of the Ruins coming into vision. The history in the deteriorated stonework caused Ulva to pause in her steps for a moment. She looked over her shoulder and then forward. This was a completely new world, tucked secretly away in a modern country. Surreal is the only word she could think of that would give a picture to what she was seeing. She picked up her pace a little, jogging up the slight slope of the hill until she was in the center of three large structures of rock, maybe limestone? She ran her fingers along surface of bumps and cracks, a shiver of goosebumps tickling up her spine. Tom sat himself in the center, enough room for the rest of them to join on the sheet but she was particularly wanting to sit down, so she stood where she was at, right hand still connecting with the unique structure that was defying gravity. She was fantasizing about climbing them, for she had the skills from her years of rock climbing back home in Russia. The thing was here she didn’t want to risk hurting the structure, unsure of how stable they were.

Rea had called her name, Ulva turning to meet eyes with the woman. Her eyes were alive and wild, matching the intensity that was in her own. “Amazing idea, I’m up for it,” she answered before even Rea was finished asking. She let her fingers drop from the stone, a reverberation shocking her finger tips. Ulva tensed her eyes, looking at her hands which appeared fine. That was strange, she thought to herself, wondering what she felt.. She let it pass for now though, but the strange feeling harbored in the back of her mind.

“Where to first?”

The walk to the herb garden was an exploration in itself. Through winding corridors and back rooms they walked, Demetrius often finding himself a few steps behind as he goggled at the house, eyes seemingly on stalks. It was a truly magnificent buildin, but he knew it would be nothing compared to the ruins outside and he couldn'twait to get to them. Though he would have liked to be dressed down a little for the event, his Italian leather shoes were rubbing against the sides of his feet already and his suit, unworn for years, felt constricting around his shoulders and underarms. He was simply far too used to casual, baggy clothing so the jet-black suit jacket, lined with navy velvet, plain white shirt and tie of violet and maroon felt as though they were suffocating him. He constantly slid his fingers between the smooth fabric and his neck to ease the pressure which ended up messing the knot of his tie, something which had been shoddily attempted to begin with. The number of times he'd worn such a garment could be counted on one hand. And there was good reason for that.

The trio arrived, led by the twins, and met Mr. Thatcher, who invited them to sit. He did so without a word and looked around at the plants that adorned the area. It seemed all he was doing since he got here was looking around at everything and he had a feeling that it would continue to be the case for almost the entire duration of his stay. Soon enough his interest was taken by the waiters, who served them each a personalised meal (His own being a thick, heavy beef stew) and a drink. Though not particularly hungry, he welcomed the tumbler of scotch with open arms after pulling his back and fastening it in a loose ponytail. Mr. Thatcher had definitely done his research. After only a few mouthfuls out of politeness, as he had a small enough appetite at the best of times, let alone when he was nervous, he wiped his mouth and listened as their host offered to show them around the ruins himself. Now? he thought, Damn it, I shouldn't have changed.

He had smiled at Thomas when they had come face-to-face but since leaving his room had said nothing. But now, as they crossed the threshold of the forest and started to feel the earth beneath their feet and the brush of leaves on their face, he could have shouted. There was a feeling, something so perculiar that he struggled to think what it felt like. Eventually he settled for the phrase it's like my bones are singing. It was all he could think on the matter. It was a wonderful sensation which intensified as they stepped deeper into the foliage, it was as though he knew something wonderful was about to happen. It was like a thousand voices in a joyous chorus heard from a great distance. Yet the beauty of this inaudible melody was somehow fractured. Within the harmony were a few broken voices, drawn out death rattles that went unnoticed and unheeded, warnings of power and evil that were as terrible as the rest was wonderful. But they were not heard, the vision of the forest drowned them out. The sunlight that filtered down through the canopy illuminated everything it touched to make it seem angelic. These radiant beams were undisturbed by dust as the forest lay sleeping and Demetrius felt his breath taken away by the sheer scale of an undisturbed paradise.

His eyes darted around, seeing everything yet seeing nothing. Trees, rocks, flowers passed his eyes but he couldn't remember them even a second later as his view was filled by something new. The forest was beautiful but was nothing compared to what he saw next. The trees parted as they approached the crest of a hill and they were greeted by a picnic spread and three structures which seemed impossible in logic. They looked ready to fall at any moment but he was assured they were safe. And he had no reason to doubt that, the air itself seemed to hum with a feeling of security and serenity. He hardly even heard Thomas explaining the scene around them as he marvelled at the structures that defied age and he found himself walking, as if in a trace, slowly towards one. He walked along it's front side, fingers brushing along the worn stone with eyes wide. It was so quiet out here that he could hear the minute rasp of his fingers being drawn across the stone's surface, the silence broken suddenly by Rea voicing the possibility of exploring together. He looked over at them and grinned.

"Sure!" It was a simple enough resonse but the first words he'd spoken since starting their journey here. What little enthusiasm may have been shown by his lack of words was overpowered by the glint in his eyes.