“There came a great wave like a hand,

Grabbing everything on the land,

It’s fingers of foam, circling round…”

There Came a Wave by Lily Usher

A half empty jar of rainbow sprinkles rolled across the counter top. Small hands picked it up and then rolled it back to the other child sitting on the other end of the bar. The small girl picked up the jar that was sent back and added yet more of the sugary specks to the last mouthful of ice cream. Artemis licked her lips.

“More ice cream!”

Apollo yawned. “I think I shall have cake.”

The pale boy passed through the glass wall and entered the refrigerated cake display. A smaller version of the Apollo sat on the lowest shelf. His head barely touching the next shelf. He grabbed a chunk of the chocolate cake and wolfed it down. The girl ignored the glutton and headed for the ice cream display. She began constructing her third sundae.

“Humans believe in a Great Flood that wiped away all the sinners.”

“It was said that there won’t be another flood only fire,” the boy replied in between mouthfuls of cake. He licked the icing smudged on the sides of his mouth.

“Ignorant things wiped away like ants caught in the rain,” Artemis said merrily as she lathered the ice cream with loads of chocolate and strawberry sauce.

“Are you going to miss them?”

“Not really. Just ice cream. No one will make it when they are gone.”

Both twins were silent as they contemplated the implications of not having any more ice cream. It was the most terrible thing ever. They had to live through such a long time before this delightful treat came into existence. Now nothing will be left save empty shells. White molding displays that once housed these colorful, delectable treats.

The long arm of the clock stopped at twelve and a cheerily tune echoed in the empty café. Two more hours before the owner will come by to set up for the day. His was always the last shop to be open along this sleepy road leading towards the ocean. Artemis yawned. She was sorely tempted to go back to sleep, but she wanted to wait for it. Which would happen about … now! Pity the shop will not open today. Nor will it open evermore.

“Apollo come here!” She ordered.

The cake eater materialized beside his bossy counterpart and they stood riveted at the window. A huge black wave was moving inland consuming all that lay before it. Artemis jumped up and down excitedly as sirens began blaring to warn the residence of an incoming tsunami. Apollo pressed his face against the cool surface and smiled. People, young and old, were running away from the inevitable. So few were awake at this hour. He felt his sister’s hands pressed on his shoulders seconds before they were swept away like along with the café.

“There came a wave like a big hand…”

That was the last thing Apollo heard before he lost touch with his physical senses. He hands subconsciously curled round his sister’s. He was not afraid because he knows that they are never truly separate from one another. He smiled as he leaned in to kiss her cheek.

“I love you too, sis.”

End of Artemis’ and Apollo’s flashback

“In the event of a global crisis, the poets will take advantage of the widespread chaos.”

A young man and woman were dragged out into the busy streets of Manhattan, surrounded by military soldiers. ‘Poet’ was written on the forehead of the man with black marker and ‘Poet Sympathizer’ on the woman's.

“With the sudden influx of alien invaders, that global crisis has come true.”

Everybody in the area stopped in their tracks from the cries for mercy coming from the two people. One of the soldiers pulled out their pistol and pointed it at the back of the woman’s head. Another solider, the tallest of the five of them, wearing a plain white mask, without openings for the nose, mouth or eyes, slammed his open hand onto the soldier’s chest and shook his head. The mask had nothing but a single eye painted at the center of the forehead. The soldier put away his pistol.

“Nobody must know about the aliens. We will be in communication with other country leaders and handle them ourselves. I just want you to do what you do best, Gilgamesh.”

The masked soldier, Gilgamesh, drew his broadsword.

“I want you to begin the final campaign to exterminate every single poet in the world.”

Gilgamesh decapitated both of them in a single swing.

“I want you to strike fear into the hearts of so many people, that they will be turning poets in faster than we could find them ourselves.” Those were the last words spoken to him earlier that day, from the head of the CIA, Connor Murren, briefing him on his mission. Gilgamesh had been a military weapon for the American military for almost ten years and was often used on missions dedicated to instilling fear on a population of people. His greatest power was simply that nobody knew what his power actually was.

Autopsies of many of his victims demonstrate that their brains simply exploded. He would often cause an entire area of people to simultaneously fall to the floor in pain, without laying a hand on them. Nobody knows his real name or where he’s from. One of the few things known about him is that he hates poets more than anything for ruining his life and his face.

Gilgamesh wiped his sword clean with a piece of cloth before sheathing it and facing the shocked civilians surrounding the streets. “If you’ve been harboring a poet, we are no longer tolerating it!” he declared, his voice surprisingly loud despite the mask completely covering his mouth. “Even if you’re not harboring a poet, but know someone who is and decide not to turn them in, you will also be considered a criminal and be put to death!” He kicked one of the heads into a crowd of people.

“No more hiding!”

---

Ken groaned as the morning alarm assaulted his ears. He turned it off quickly and proceeded with his morning routine before heading over to his master’s place to train, as he usually did. Although almost every day was the same, it never found himself getting bored with it. He lived for challenging himself and the only way to do that anymore was training with Iraltiphos.

As he made his way to his master’s place, he noticed that he couldn’t detect his presence. He vaguely remembered something similar happening just the day before and thought that his master was probably suppressing his energy again. Ken immediately went to the back yard where he found him the last time it happened, but didn’t see him there. He then walked through the front door and could see him lying down in the middle of the training area. As he got closer to him, he expected him to get up, but he just kept lying there as if he were sleeping. I’d be able to detect him if he were sleeping though, Ken thought.

“I’m here,” he said, standing over his master. There was no answer. Now he was convinced he was screwing with him. “C’mon, you tell me every day that you’re the strongest guy on the planet. How do you expect to get away with playing dead?” As he spoke, he got a closer look at one of his arms and saw bruises on his knuckles and forearm, indicating that he had been fighting. “Oh shit,” he said under his breath as he quickly moved Iraltiphos’ body so that he was lying on his back. He checked his pulse. Nothing. There were bruises around his throat and neck. He had been strangled to death.

Impossible, Ken thought, his heart racing. He immediately looked around, half expecting the murderer to still be there. He would’ve believed it if there was a gunshot wound or slash marks or anything indicating that the murderer knew magic and had the upper-hand. But for him to have been beaten—to have been killed in hand-to-hand combat? “Impossible!” Ken exclaimed, punching the wooden floor. Tears rolled down his cheeks and as he punched the floor again.

And again and again.

Walking down the sidewalk, Elysia allowed her mind to wander as she thought about how she would deal with the rivalry within her class. There was a lot of potential within the class but the two rivals would hinder their ability to pursue their talents as far as they could if they kept their focus on each other instead of learning to become comrades. Pausing as she reached a cross street, Elysia looked in each direction as she tried to figure out which way she needed to go. She knew that she needed to go to her classroom to teach her students but even after all the years she lived nearby, she couldn’t remember the street she was on. As she looked around with greater care, she was surprised to see the street littered with old technology. The only time she had seen this technology was when her planet rarely referred back to in rare circumstances as well as while she was using the Simulator.

That had to be the reason she was seeing what she saw.

As a few people passed by her, she looked carefully at their features and just as the buildings and technology around her, she saw that they were different as well. She couldn’t find anyone with silver colored eyes as she was used to seeing, nor were there any visible enhancements she could see people passed by. She had to be in the Simulator, there was no other explanation. However as she thought about it, she wondered what her objective was. She couldn’t remember entering the Simulator nor being briefed on what she was supposed to accomplish.

Maybe that was what she was supposed to accomplish. Maybe they were preparing her so that she would know what to do in case someone tried to erase her memory. It made sense to her, especially with poets running rampant around the world. However it didn’t make sense that she was on a different planet. It seemed strange to her that they would place her in that setting along with being unable to remember what her objective was. But she knew that they must have a reason for what they were doing. She would have to play along until she is able to find out what her objective was as she was sure that clues would start appearing to lead her in the direction she was supposed to go. As the cross walk turned green, Elysia gave a slight shrug as she wandered down the street as she looked for a sign or something. Turning on her ocular enhancement, the woman turned on her interface to see if she would be able to gain any information on what she was to do. However connecting to her planet’s database brought nothing but an error message as she muttered harshly in a bitter tone. Whatever they were planning, she would have to accomplish without the help that the database gave her.

As she continued on her way, she wondered what she was supposed to do. Was she supposed to be here to apprehend an enemy that theoretically escaped from her planet? That would explain why she was on earth as well as the fact that her memory was gone if the enemy did that to her. But who was this enemy and where would she be able to find him. As she walked down the street, she noticed that she was starting to get wary glances from those she passed from the attire she wore. She wouldn’t be able to walk around with her combat clothes exposed and knew she would need to find a change of clothes. Putting her hand in her pocket, she was a little upset to find that the one in control of the Simulator didn’t give her money to buy a change of clothes or anything. Stealing would bring her unneeded attention but standing out in the open with her gun holstered and dressed as she was wouldn’t be a good option. She needed to figure something out quickly if she wanted to blend in.

Looking through the storefront window as she walked down the street, Elysia kept her eyes open for a store that would sell clothing. She was unfamiliar with many, if not all, of the store names that she passed by but was glad that it didn’t take her too long to find a store that sold clothes. The only problem now was to find a way to obtain it. Looking around at the worried glances from those that passed her, an idea struck her as she walked into the store.

“Hello,”A man said as he turned around as an alarm of some sort went off as Elysia walked through the doors. “How c-can I…” A look of panic crossed the man’s face as he saw Elysia as she looked at the door with confusion.

“Interesting.” Elysia mumbled to herself as she looked at the door. She had never seen an alarm like the store had before either form her home planet nor in the simulator before. As she wondered if that was one of the upgrades Cameron was working on, she turned her attention towards the man. “Hey, don’t worry I’m not here to hurt you.” Elysia said raising her hands towards him as she took a few steps towards him. “I need your help though. You see, I was sent to complete a job not too far from here but I never got the message from the agency that we were supposed to be undercover and I don’t have time to drive back to my apartment and get a change of clothes.” Elysia said hoping that her lie would hold as she tried to remember what the word people on earth used for guard as well as all the other technicalities. “If I could borrow a change of clothes, I can have the agency reimburse you within a week.”

Elysia watched the hesitant man and was relieved when he agreed to help. “So do you work for the police or something like that?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

With a pair of pants as well as a t shirt and a light jacket, Elysia made her way out of the store with her combat clothing in her new backpack she also grabbed. She was glad to see that her gun was easily concealed beneath her jacket, allowing her to blend in with the rest of the crowd. Now all she had to do was figure out what her mission is.

Robert sat in his apartment staring at the human figure that hung on the wall that he referred to as Gaia. He had already been in that barren room for hours just staring at her. She hung her like an exhibition in the room with only a few fake plants and flowers to surround her. He didn't want to chance a maid coming in to clean the room and have plants growing towards her. The last thing he needed was the world to know that it was actually her that could do all the magic and he was just a sham.

Maybe they already knew

He shook his head at the thought. There was no way they could know anything like that. He always too the up most care in hiding any personal information about himself. He even dropped his real name and adopted the name 'Dr. Plant'. All his documents now contained the ridiculous name.

Don't be a fool. Those people in the lab could tell anyone who you are.

Robert clinched his fist. He always seemed to forget those pests he had left behind. They could tell anyone who he was and he was surprised none of them had spoken up yet..

"Dr. Hussly, what have I told you about locking yourself up?" A familiar voice spoke.

Robert closed his eyes and let out a long sigh. "It is Robert, Dr. Lee."

A chuckle could be heard before Dr. Lee spoke again. "Or should I call you Dr. Plant?"

Robert opened his eyes and turned to Dr. Lee. He was standing there looking like he always had. His grey suit that he loved to wear and white lab coat. He had his hair laid back with streaks of white going through the black. He was standing there. "I thought you were dead."

Dr. Lee laughed again then scratched his goatee thinking about the situation. "Perhaps I am dead. If I am then why am I here?"

"I am not in the mood for your riddles." Robert waved him off an leaned back in his chair. He closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose trying to think of how Dr. Lee could be here.

"I see you still have her." The location of his voice changed. It was now coming from in front of him. Robert opened his eyes and looked up to see Dr. Lee standing in front of Gaia. He was so close to her, no one had been that close to her except for Robert since he took her from the lab. Anger quickly spiked as jealousy got the best of him.

"Get away from her." He stated harshly.

"Still obsessed with her as well." Dr. Lee continued keeping his back to Robert. "You are doing a good job keeping her healthy. Glass floor and wall for sunlight and a watering system. Our Gaia sure is doing well here... though you on the other hand..."

Robert stood up from his chair and approached Dr.Lee. "How I am doing is none of your concern. When I left the lab I did not tell anyone where I was or ask for any help. I do not need a babysitter."

"You're right. You don't need a babysitter." Dr. Lee said finally turning to Robert looking up at him. Robert had always been outstandingly taller than Dr. Lee, which was no surprise most american females were also taller than him. "But I do think that you need a friend. A human friend. A friend that doesn't hang on the wall silent." Robert did not speak. "Remember 'Don't get caught up in her like I did. As interesting as she is she is only a research project.'"

Those words echoed in Robert's head like deja vu. he had heard Dr. Lee say that before, not once, but many times. Each time after he had locked himself away in the lab. "'How about a drink? We need to get out of the lab every now and then for we will go crazy...'" He paused at that work. "Crazy.. crazy.. I'm not crazy!" his anger was overwhelming now. "All this time you thought I was crazy didn't you? Pitying me and making fun of me to the other researchers while pretending to be my friend!"

"You know that isn't the case." Dr. Lee crossed his arms. "Look at all the facts before you assume anything. Your first fact, You lock yourself away and obsess over Gaia, a none human living thing. Second, you have severed all ties to anyone because you are to paranoid to trust anything. Third, you are standing in here arguing with a dead man on the fact you are not crazy."

"You're the one that came here to torture me!" Robert resorted.

Dr. Lee shook his head and walked over to the window to see the city. "The world is changing Robert. I fear for you."

With that said Dr.Lee vanished leaving Robert standing there in the room alone again. Robert hesitated on approaching the window but in the end did. He looked down to the city seeing all the people rioting over the resent killings that had taken place. The people that were targeted were poets. He wasn't a poet. Nothing he had ever done was even close to a poet.

You think they will stop there. They will come after all magic users eventually.

"No!"

they will take Gaia away. Hide her from you, touch her.

"No!" Robert rushed over to Gaia laying his head on her stomach and putting his arms around her. "I won't let them take you from me. We will be together for ever."

So caught up on his own paranoia Robert didn't notice small bits of the vines and moss chip off her and floated to the floor. Gel'Linnea's body was starting to revive after such a long time.

Before John sat an array of people, both young and old, men and women, children and adults. No matter the variety, each person’s response was the same: Attentive. Each had their own reasons to be here, some wished to exact vengeance on the men that had slaughtered their families, others wanted to simply hide. Yet, they all shared one common need, and that was to learn. John knew this, at one point, perhaps, he would have called himself arrogant for believing men 20 years his senior would ever look to him as a modern Socrates; however experience over these few months had shown him differently. He could no longer question whether or not he deserved to lead, for that line of thought was futile. A heavy mantle of responsibility had been lowered onto his shoulders, and only one option remained, accept role and do the best he possibly could. John laughed to himself, perhaps God has a strange sense of humor.

John’s hand rose to stroke the grizzle growing along his chin, buying his eyes the time they needed to wander the room and search the souls of those gathered here. It was never difficult to sort the serious fighters from those who terrified of their very shadow yet desperate to appear strong. “What is poetry?” His eyes moved ceaselessly, gauging any reaction.

A chair turned over as a young teenage boy hastily stood. Those eyes, he was a fighter. John knew he should care for all of his students the same, yet he also was well aware of his bias. The warriors occupied a special place in his heart, because they would be the men and women who carried the rebellion with him to the heart of this country. These few would be the brothers in arms that bled with him… his breath caught, as it always did upon this revelation… that would very likely die with him. “Magic!” A dark and eager smile touched the boy’s lips as he yelled. The room broke into subdued chuckles, and the young boys face turned a vibrant red. Unlike most that age he did not cower beneath the scorn, instead his hand balled into fists and his chin punched upwards. John smiled even wider, spirit is always a rare commodity under the heel of tyranny.

“What, pray tell, would you seek to do with this power? This, magic, Andrew?” The boy’s name came back to him suddenly, along with the tragedy that dropped him at John’s doorstep. His parents were stoned to death in the town square while he was forced to watch, he survived by ripping up and burning the tiny journal in which he had begun experimenting with his gift. John couldn’t imagine the overwhelming anger, and guilt, that Andrew had to feel. Johns gut wrenched as he pictured it, for he knew all too well this child’s pain. Not so long ago his wife and child had been ripped from his arms and burned for using a simple verse to make flowers to bloom.

Stop. John locked down his emotions. The past would be avenged, and there would be no grieving until the fires of hell rose to swallow the attackers in their hot embrace.

“Dante, I would kill all of the soldiers, and I would make Poetry legal.” The boy betrayed no hint that he realized his naivete. Oh how John envied his youth and exuberance.

“I wish that it were as simple as you make it sound son,” John, Dante, softly responded, his strong hands gripped the edge of the mahogany writing desk which supported him. “More than that though, I wish it was so easy to erase the hurt which fuels our mutual hate.” Andrew’s eyes fell, and his shoulders trembled while his conscious mind fought between the equal responses of despair and fury. Dante’s heart broke for him, a small tear formed at the crease in his eye. Andrew righted his chair and slowly sat down, his head raised to make eye contact with Dante. Those brown eyes pleaded for so much, yet the heaviest request was for relief. John could never give him that, nor could he give it even to himself.

“Poetry, my friends, is the manifestation of the soul.” He pushed off the desk and began to pace throughout the room. “Poetry takes your deepest inner feelings, your wishes, and gives them life.” Fervor began to build in his voice. “Do any of you understand the power which you hold, and, more importantly, the responsibility? A corrupt soul could destroy the world, yet a righteous one could bring about endless prosperity” Dante stopped to gather his calm.

“You may question ‘Why then are large works of magic so few and far between’, by asking this you have made your first mistake. That is believing Poetry is a horse to be harnessed and bent to your will. This could not be farther from the truth. Poetry is beautiful, even in its most terrifying form, true verse will stagger you with its emotion even as it devours your life.” His voice came smooth now, passionate and enticing.

“Herein lies the basic secret of poetry. To birth forth beauty and power you must be broken, your pain or ecstasy must flow in and around you. Logic will never birth more than cheap side show tricks.” Dante flicked his hand to the side dismissively. “Poetry is impulsive, alive”.

Dante returned to the center of the group, bringing his hands behind his back. “This is simultaneously Poetry’s greatest strength, and weakness. The destruction of Japan showed us what a broken, however poorly trained, poet can do. He can destroy a country as easy as swatting a fly” John prayed the seriousness was setting in.

“The two parts of effective poetry are Brokenness and Expression. Each are equally difficult to master, but I will teach you as best I can.”

Brokenness, oh how he knew of that bitter lover. In fact, the city which burned his girls knew of it too. With brokenness and expression Dante had slowly cooked each villainous bastard from the inside out. Unlike his family, they were not given the mercy of losing consciousness due to the smoke, no no, they felt every agonizing touch. Their screams did not haunt Dante, though the comfort they brought his did.

“Now to business.” Dante paused, feeling his presence draw them in “Some of you have wondered why I am called Dante. Just as my Father in Name was gifted a vision of hell, I also have seen hell. I have gazed into to mouth of the beast and seen flames spew forth, and in those flames I have glimpsed burning cities. I have watched nations march armies against us in desperation only to fall before the wrath of our words. Oh yes, my friends, I have seen hell, yet unlike my predecessor I do not come to warn the world of its future doom. NO! I come to bring that hell to this vile and twisted people. I swear to you, they shall look upon us, and as their crimes flash before their eyes they will know us for what we are. The Harbingers of Justice. Justice demands their blood, so we shall deliver it.”

Word would now spread faster than ever before, and both friend and foe would flock to him as moths to flame.

yawa og niar niaR
.yad rehtona niaga emoC
yalp ot stnaw ollopA elttiL

“What a strange dream?”

A little 8-year-old boy sat on the edge of a high rise building staring at the puny humans wandering below. The warmth of the noon sun catching his pale hair. A hint of dark clouds were gathering in the sky. He pouted and went back to stare at the people milling around below. So tiny and insignificant. Seeing them made him feel better. So scared of the unknown. He and Artemis had observed the activity around town over the last few days. Silly people killing one another. They were wasting time. If only they knew what existed out there. They were much better off eating cake. Or ice cream.

“Let’s play tag,” said a little girl out of nowhere.

“But it’s going to rain!” The boy replied grumpily to the nonexistent person.

“It won’t rain for a while yet and we haven't done anything fun for almost 2 days,” she whined.

“That might be fun.”

It had to be or Artemis wouldn't suggest it. Apollo smiled as the people in the streets stopped to stare at him. Some were pointing. Others were simply staring. None of them were the group he was looking for, but they will come soon enough. After all only Poets can use magic, right? That is what the humans think anyway. He spread his arms out and leaped. The wind whistled in his hair as the faces grew clearer and clearer. The shock and the horror was delicious.

Instinctively people stepped back moments before he was about to hit the ground. Then they stared. The little boy who plummeted moments ago was gone. He had fallen through the side walk as though he was diving into the ocean. Not a speck of blood was seen. This had to be a trick? Where were the cameras? What was going on? Activity within the immediate area came to a standstill. Those who saw it couldn’t believe their eyes. Those who didn’t were able to see it second hand through one recording or another. Others were simply pointing to the top of building and telling the people around them what happened.

“I don’t know why you fear Poets.”

All the heads turned to look at the speaker. The little boy just reappeared from the glass window of a nearby shop house. The tension was palpable. People began whispering and messaging their friends. Poets? Was the kid a poet? Surely he is kidding. Why would he want to say it out loud? Everyone was still confused.

“All I have to say is a bunch of nonsense and you think I am a Poet. But… what if I did this?”

The child snapped his fingers and a loud explosion went off. One of the many cars parked along the side walk was now a burning pile of metal. Acrid smoke filled the already polluted New York air. Realization began filtering through their uncomprehending minds. Adrenaline seeped into their veins as a panic and hysteria took over.

“I suggest you run.”

Run they did. En masse – hundreds and thousands of people. Cars began exploding and trees combusting. Each explosion spurred the fearful masses on. There was no stopping. Now where were those pesky little men? It was going to rain soon and then everything will be so dreary.

“Maybe they know it is going to rain?”

“Oh shut up, Artemis!” Apollo said as he stuck out his tongue at his reflection.

“Someone certainly is grumpy today.”

"Stop!"

Both twins fell silent. There it was again. Someone wanted to play with them after all. Apollo turned around to look at their new friend. Oh who is this? He was pretty certain that they have never seen her before. Doesn't she look cross! This will be fun!

"Nah uh... you got to catch us first."

He stepped into the window and he was gone. Seconds later hundreds of blonde boys with mismatched blue eyes stared down at newcomer from every glass surface on the building. It almost made the building look like it was covered with many LED screens rather than windows. Some were blowing raspberries at her. Others merely sticking out their tongue at her and some simply yawning exaggeratedly. Now it was her turn.

“Uh, what?” an officer asked.

Ken sighed and squeezed the area between his eyes with his thumb and index finger in frustration. Many police officials were at the scene of the crime, along with detectives, all scrambling for evidence.

“Iraltiphos,” Ken repeated. “I-r-a-l-t-i-p-h-o-s.” The officer wrote the name down, clearly puzzled.

“Last name?” Ken shrugged. “You don’t know his last name?”

“Why the hell would I know that?”

“You’ve known him for two years, have you not?”

“And?”

“I’m sure we’ll find some record of it inside his home,” the officer concluded, wanting to stop talking to him as soon as possible. “I’ll leave you alone.”

Ken sat cross legged in the grass, looking toward the sea, his mind racing. He was angry and scared. He was angry that he was scared. It wasn’t so much that he wondered who did it, because he knew his master’s arrogance had probably earned him an abundance of enemies. It was the idea that somebody able to beat him at his own game was out on the loose and with Iraltiphos’ lack of fame, not a single person alive will take Ken seriously when he tries to say that the murderer, whoever he is, is extremely dangerous. Would he come after him next?

“Ken, may I have a moment with you?” he heard somebody say, snapping him out of his thoughts. Rot in hell, he thought.

“Sure,” Ken replied without enthusiasm. The man wasn’t in a police uniform. Must be a detective, he thought as the man sat down in the grass in front of him.

“I just have a couple of questions,” the detective began. He was Japanese, had short black hair, a lean build and wore a dark purple button-down shirt.

“Why? What could I possibly tell you that you don’t know? The DNA is at the scene as is the body. Why are you wasting time?”

“That’s the thing, Ken…”

“You have all this technology at your disposal and you still twiddle your thumbs two hours later…”

“The only DNA evidence at the scene is yours and Iral’s.”

Ken’s eyes narrowed and his jaw dropped slightly. “He was murdered. The bruises around his neck…”

“Were by his own hand, as strange as that sounds, but that’s what DNA testing has concluded.”

“What? No. What about the bruises on his knuckles and forearms? He fought somebody. I know a fight when I see one. I trained with him every day. We…”

“Are those injuries generally present when training with you?”

A chill went down Ken’s spine. “What are you saying?”

“I just want to know if your training sessions were this fierce.”

“We weren’t exactly going for each other’s throats.”

“Weren’t exactly?”

“I didn’t kill him, you moron. I couldn’t if I tried.”

“I didn’t say you killed him, Ken.”

“You sure?”

“With your DNA being the only other one at the scene, it’d be silly to not at least consider you a suspect.”

“Hell with this!” Ken shouted, getting up and beginning to walk away. A handful of officers blocked his path.

“I still have to ask you some questions. If you try to leave we’ll have to take you by force.” Ken glared at the officer directly in front of him and remained silent. “Was Iral a poet?”

“No. He hated high magic,” Ken replied quickly. His eyes drifted to the left as he thought. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“We’ve heard poets are being rounded up and killed in large numbers. It started in the U.S, but it seems by the hour other countries are taking part as well. It’s possible his death is related.”

“And who are killing poets? Vigilantes? The governments are. They always have. If he was killed for being a poet, it would have been these tools blocking me wouldn’t it?”

“We don’t kill them, we arrest them,” the detective corrected, carefully.

“And by what hour will that change to killing? I saw two officers just the other day paralyzed a poet. Practically fought me just for asking why,” Ken said with fire in his eyes. At mentioning the day before, he suddenly realized how distant it felt. It felt like a week. Perhaps more. And he couldn’t bring himself to remember the end the day. The more he tried to remember the events after he confronted the officers, the hazier it got until it vanished. “Are you sure it started in the states? Are you sure we weren’t a police state before them?” he continued to taunt him, his anger getting the best of him. He was alone and he knew it. Iraltiphos’ murderer will probably never be found and if he was found, the authorities certainly wouldn’t be the ones responsible. With a hostile on the loose capable of taking down his master, the idea of these officers keeping him away from finding out whom the murderer is made him laugh inside.

“Arrest him,” the detective ordered. He’s no detective, Ken thought with an internal laugh as he heard cuffs being pulled out from behind him. He spun around, instantly taking a fighting stance and letting his spirit energy steadily rise. The officer with the hand cuffs froze, but the others quickly surrounded him, though keeping their distance. “Please come quietly, Ken.”

“No.”

Elysia was surprised to see how average the city appeared to be as she walked down the sidewalk. Her mission was usually apparent when she was using the simulator but she still couldn’t figure out what her objective was especially since nothing seemed out of the ordinary. As she continued down the street, she heard a scream up ahead about a block or so in front of her. Rushing towards the commotion that was quickly rising, she that people were pointing upwards and with her enhanced eye, she quickly focused in the target. Even form the distance she was at, she could see that there was a young boy on top of the building.

“Oh crap.” Elysia muttered before running towards the boy, knowing that if she or someone else didn’t do something to stop him, the situation would quickly turn dire. As she wormed her way through the crowd, she knew she was too late as he saw the boy spread his arms apart. Although she yelled out for the boy to stop, it was too late as the small figure started to plummet towards the ground. All around her people were frozen in place, already knowing the boy’s fate.

Knowing that it would take time before help would come to handle the situation, Elysia continued her way forwards. For a mission set by the simulator, this one was quite different than any she had dealt with but the next logical step obvious to her knowing that she should keep the situation somewhat contained and under control until someone could come to deal with the body. With only a few rows of people still in front of her, she was surprised at the crowd’s reaction as the body reached the ground. With only a murmured wave of confusion coming from the crowd, Elysia continued forwards but was met with a surprise when a body couldn’t be found. Besides the crowd creating a clearing of where the body should have been, there was no trace of an impact happening.

Turning her attention towards a voice that suddenly took the crowd’s attention, Elysia was surprised to see the same boy alive and well. It took her a second to recognize what the boy was saying. From all her years of working on the field she came across quite a few poets, even a few younger poets but never anywhere as near as young as her own students she taught or even as young as this boy. A child poet was something new to her.

That must have been her mission, the reason she was placed in the simulator in an earthlike setting.

Child soldiers were something greatly frown upon from her home planet and wasn’t something that was heard of for over two thousand years. Finding information for the simulation machine would have been harder to obtain from her home planet due to the large gap in time but with information of earth readily available, finding information of child soldiers would be easier to find with earth’s history being much shorter than Ryton’s history. Adding the aspect of being a poet wouldn’t be much of a stretch for the simulation machine, giving her a perfect storm to deal with.

Suddenly an explosion happened, forcing Elysia to focus on the situation at hand. Grabbing her gun out of reflex, she waited for the crowd to disperse. She was glad to see that the boy was letting the people leave instead of directly trying to attack them. Butting in now would turn out disastrous as she ducked as a car nearby exploded. As the path between her and the boy cleared, Elysia aimed her gun at the boy and yelled for him to stop.

Elysia watched with a slightly perplexed expression on her face as the boy disappeared into a window. What did he mean when he said that she had to catch him? However as the boy appeared all around her, she had a feeling she understood. Could the boy attack her from each and every window he was in? If so that would leave her open in getting attacking from multiple locations and on her own it would be impossible to keep track of every window. However what if the glass was just a façade to trick her so that he could get away while she spent her time dealing with mere illusions. She had to figure out what she was going to do and quick. Twitching her right thumb to the left, Elysia changed the setting of her ocular enhancement so that she could automatically lock onto her targets, hoping that most if not all of the boys in the windows wouldn’t be targeted. However each and every window displayed a target, there was no way for her to tell which one was the real boy, if he really was in only one window instead of being able to move between them.

Deciding not to take any chances, Elysia raised her gun at the window the boy first disappeared out of and fired a single shot before moving towards a window towards her right before moving yet again towards the right. Without her team she didn’t have anyone to watch her back so she opted for the next best opinion of continuously moving so that she hoped she could catch a glimpse of him moving towards her if he made a move to attack. Maybe this wasn’t the most cost efficient way to deal with a poet but if she kept breaking the windows, soon or later he would have to figure something else to do. “I can do this all day kid. My gun is charged to the max and I don’t have to reload as you do for conventional guns.” Elysia said as she continued to shoot the windows. Besides a hum coming from her gun before she fired, the only sound that came from her shooting was the glass shatter which was followed by an alarm from a few shops. “Listen kid, if you keep going like this the consequences will be severe. It would be better if you turned yourself in to the authorities and you might be lucky to receive a lighter punishment for what you are doing. With the alarms going off and the stunt you pulled off how long do you think it will take before more come and try and get you.”

“What a disaster,” Elise muttered under her breath. She drank coffee from her mug as she watched the news, seeing that the campaign to exterminate all poets was now about to be full-scale and possibly global. News channels were showing clips of a masked military soldier decapitating poets and poet sympathizers alike in the streets in broad daylight. Although she was aware that many governments showed distain for poets, she never imagined that things would ever come to such a boiling point. Some poet must have done something recently to really upset somebody powerful, she thought, clamoring for some justification for the madness.

Since she had grown up being taught to have a high respect for magic, poets had always fascinated her. In fact, if it weren’t for the fact that it was outlawed, she might have tried her hand at the form of magic herself. Why don’t scientists rule the world? she asked herself with a sigh. We’re the ones who make the most sense and contribute the most to society yet I’m living in a one bedroom apartment, she thought as she put her mug down, seeing a blinking light in her peripheral vision.

Elise looked over at her open bedroom and could see a blinking light coming from the top of her unmade bed. She walked over to it and picked up the blinking device, Abal, a proto-type she built designed to assist her in finding aliens. It was far from perfect. In fact, it was rather primitive, but it was the only device of its kind that she knew of. Most of the scientific community regards her as a crack-pot, so she didn’t think anybody would be building such a device anytime soon.

She looked at the device’s screen, which was no larger than a cell phone’s, and saw a combination of 20 numbers. The numbers represent an energy signature, which is unique to every species in the world. Usually the combination of numbers is follow by the name of the species, but this time it was followed by ‘unknown.’ Her jaw dropped slightly and then she narrowed her eyes in confusion. Since she built the device two years ago, this was the first time it had happened and wondered if it was working properly. Abal was now indicating how far away the energy signature was from it. 200 feet. She almost gasped.

“That’s within the apartment complex,” Elise said softly to no one. She took Abal with her and walked out of her suite and into the elevator, taking it down to the first floor. She watched the distance between her and the unknown creature vary from closer to father, until she got close to the first floor where it consistently got farther. She walked to the main entry and looked at the list of buzzers that were accompanied by a name and apartment number. None of the names caught her eye. Except Dr. Plant. She remembered him. She used to attend his magic shows, fascinated by what he could do. However, she always brought Abal with her to those shows and it never indicated that something was strange about him. Why would it now?

She didn’t know, but it was the only familiar name so she pressed the button and waited for his voice to come through the receiver. Maybe he would know something about it, being a fellow magic-user. Maybe he would just think she’s crazy like the rest of them. Maybe Abal is finally busted, she thought as she waited for a response.

Time passed by. How much time? He did not know. He was content to stay were he was, his arms wrapped around this amazing creature. There was just something about her that made him want to stay with her forever. She was like a drug, addicting in almost every way. He wasn’t the only one that was captivated by her. When he was still working in the lab he noticed that others would come by just to stare at her much like him self. He knew that they would get infatuated with her and try to take him away. It wasn’t long after he received his doctorate that he started his plan to remove Gaia from the lab.

Robert’s hand moved up Gel’Linnea’s back caressing it under his finger tips. Her skin was surprisingly soft in some areas, much like a human. Sometimes he forgot that she wasn’t a human. “Gaia…” His breath was like a whisper. He wanted nothing more than for her to be awake and for him to make her his.

*Buzz*

Robert jumped hearing the buzzer for his door. “Who is that?” No one ever came to visit him, mostly because he didn’t hand out information like where he lived like other celebrates and he wasn’t someone that stuck out in a crowd so he easily blended in to a group. Tabloids rarely found where he lived and when they did he easily sent them away. Robert looked up to Gaia and smiled. “I’ll send them away”

With that said he released Gaia and stood up. When he exited the room Robert shut the door to her room and locked it behind him on the off chance that someone might enter the room. He wanted no one to see her, be with her, or touch her. Running his hands through his hair to put the hairs back in place he pressed the button to answers who ever was calling him.

“Hello.” He said then released the button. "What do you want?"

He couldn’t imagine who was on the other side wanting to talk to him. He was hoping that it was nothing more than someone wanting to sell him something so that he could send them away quickly. He waited on the person to reply.

Inside the room Gel’Linnea was in the vines started to loosen. More pieces of moss fell off in larger chunks now. Two loud thumps could be heard in Gel’Linnea’s ears. Her heart had started to beat again. It wouldn’t be long now before she would be able to move on her own. Her body just need a little more time before it was ready.

“Then we’ll have to subdue you,” the detective said, getting up and approaching the circle of officers surrounding Ken. Are officers trained in hand to hand combat? Ken asked himself, weary of the movements of the six officers that surrounded him. Won’t matter, he concluded. I’ll clean up in five minutes.

A chill ran down his spine when he saw the officer in front of him make a slight movement with his hand, toward his holster. Spending his whole life fighting with his fists and training in practical seclusion for so long, Ken had forgotten about guns. I’m an idiot, he thought. They’ll just kill me and say I was allied with the poets. Maybe they’ll just say I am one—didn’t that guy say world governments are one by one finally starting to kill them en masse?

In a blur of movement, Ken dashed toward the officer closest to the detective and struck the back of his head with just enough force to knock him out. He took the pistol from his holster and made another dash for the detective. He wanted to get behind him above all else. The rest of the officers already had their pistols out, but hesitated to shoot with their superior so close to their target. Once behind him, Ken immediately went to subdue him by grabbing his arms and keeping them locked behind his back. Despite his speed, the detective understood his plan as soon as he took the gun from his subordinate and attempted to fight back. However, he was unarmed and couldn’t ever hope to stand up to Ken’s strength.

“Magic-user,” the detective snarled with distain.

“Not magic,” Ken replied, standing behind him as he got a sturdier hold of his arms. He had his arms locked with just his left, holding the pistol in his right. The five remaining officers had their pistols pointing at him, waiting for the order to shoot at the risk of killing their superior at the same time.

“What? You think because you don’t emit fireworks from your fingertips that it’s not magic? Humans don’t naturally move that fast!”

“Everything is natural,” Ken replied, lifting the pistol and pointing it at the detective’s head. The barrel was no more than an inch away from it. Everything is natural. Those were Iraltiphos’ words. Him and Ken had the debate on whether or not what they did was magic or not countless times and Iraltiphos always insisted that it wasn’t. Although Ken told the detective it wasn’t, he still didn’t completely understand his master’s argument. Something about energy at its most raw. Something about the self. Iraltiphos explained it better. Curse whoever killed him, Ken thought with anger.

“Put down your weapons and let me pass!” he shouted. He never said that he would kill the detective if they didn’t, but he figured the message was clear. He couldn’t bring himself to say something he wasn’t going to do. Fighting had been a sport and a hobby for him his entire life. He never imagined that there would come a day where he would have to kill somebody. The man who killed his master might be enough to get him to kill, but he probably wouldn’t stand a chance against somebody with that kind of power. What would he do if the officers don’t call his bluff?

“Or what? You’ll kill me?” the detective taunted. The officers didn’t budge. “Have you ever killed a man? Or was your training partner the first?” Ken felt his face get hot as he thought about what to do. At first he wondered how the detective had the audacity to question his resolve in his current position, but then realized that his hand had been shaking the entire time. He quickly aimed the pistol downward and shot his foot. A scream of agony erupted from the detective’s throat as he struggled to escape.

“Put your guns down!” Ken shouted louder this time. He shot the pistol two times in their general direction, missing on purpose. “Do it now!” The officers still didn’t budge. Ken lifted his left arm, forcing the detective’s arms to be pushed upward from behind, causing him further pain and to scream louder. “DO IT NOW!” They finally put their guns down and stepped aside. Ken dragged him away as he retreated from the scene, taking him to a rocky area on a nearby beach where they couldn’t be seen. “God, stop whining!” he mocked, throwing him into the sand when he knew they were far enough away.

“Try taking a bullet through your foot.”

“Try losing one of the last few people in this world that you care about!”

“Hey, I’m not the one who killed him. I’m not the one with my god damn DNA all over the crime scene!” the detective continued defiantly as he struggled to get to his feet. He leaned on a rock to keep himself up. “And why bring me all the way here? My guys let you through. You could have left me there.”

“I don’t believe you when you say Iraltiphos’ hands were on his own throat. What the hell does that mean? You can’t strangle yourself to death,” Ken explained. “It’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard and you’re not leaving here until I know what you’re hiding.”

“Are you being serious?” he replied, half laughing. “You’re either a really good actor or something is seriously wrong here.” Ken stared at him dumbfounded. “Your DNA being at the crime scene, in what’s his face’s wounds; you snapping as soon as I even slightly accused you, your fighting the arrest—if you didn’t do it I don’t know who the hell did!”

“You have no idea how strong he was. I couldn’t if I…”

“Do you even remember yesterday? Do you remember what you did yesterday?” Ken was dumbfounded yet again and immediately searched his memories to tell him and prove him wrong, but couldn’t retrieve anything. All he could remember was arriving to his master’s place and not being able to detect him. He only vaguely remembers finding him in the backyard. Everything else is gone. The horror showed on his face and the detective’s grin faded. “Wow, you really don’t remember. I was taking a stab in the dark.”
Ken didn’t respond. He kept trying to remember the day before, but tried in vain. It was just yesterday, he thought. How could I possibly forget? What the hell happened yesterday? “You probably strangled him by grabbing his hands and found a way to make yourself forget,” the detective said. Ken grimaced and glared at him.

“No. You know something. You’re putting ideas into my head,” Ken replied, pointing accusingly at him. “Who are you? Detectives don’t have the police force at their disposal last I checked.”

“Who cares who I am? Who are you? You resisted arrest, attacked officers, threatened officers, fired at officers, knocked one out, used me as a hostage and shot my foot. You’re a fugitive, son. And the more you waste time talking the more time that gives the police to find you.”

“Who are you?”

“You killed your training partner and repressed it from your memory. You kidnapped me just to have someone to deny your crime to! You’re a psychopath!”

Ken grabbed his forehead with his left hand and knifehand struck the back of his head to knock him out. The detective fell to the sandy ground and was silent. Ken buried his face in his hands, breathing heavily and at a loss of options. He looked at the path he came from and saw the trail of blood from the man’s wounds. “Well, he’s got one thing right at least,” Ken muttered to himself. “I need to get out of here.”

---

“Hello? What do you want?” Elise heard the unenthusiastic voice from the receiver.

“Hi! Dr. Plant? I had no idea we lived in the same apartment complex! I’ve been to a few of your shows and I’m a fan of your work,” she immediately replied, using her most pleasant sounding voice and thinking of what to say as she went along. “I’ve been practicing magic myself for a year now and I was wondering if we could briefly sit down and talk about your technique. I think it would help me out a lot.” She was stalling from giving him her real name. Would that be wise? She asked herself.

“My name is Elise, by the way. May I come up?” She put Abal into her back pocket.

“pets Snoziroh sa Neht
yawa troper Snoon Ro
dnuos fo Alumrof eht Tuohtiw
-- yats ew dna sessap Ti”
A Light Exists in Spring by Emily Dickson

The different reflections climbed out of the glass. Like hundreds of shadows. Each of them scrambling in a spider like manner. Glass flew everywhere as shots rang out. The boys that were shot simply disappeared into wisps of smoke. The mirror images entered into a single window. No reflection appeared. A palpable silence filled the air.

“Consequences? Whatever does that mean?” The boy taunted.

Apollo beamed as he look at the lady now standing with her back towards him. In his hand were the bullets that manage to hit him. Wispy smoke poured from his right shoulder. Slowly he let the bullets fall to the ground one by one. He tilted his head to the side as a lump began to form. The bump swelled slowly at first, but soon it grew rapidly as eyes and a nose began to take shape. Dark curly hair cascaded down from the top. The pale child reached for the second neck and pulled. He fell to the ground on his side as his arm lengthened and became a mess of a tanned and pale skin. A small girl in a Victorian black lace dress took began to take shape. Her dress ended around her knees. Grey stockings and black ankle boots materialized round her feet. She reached down and pulled the boy from the ground. His clothes changed to complement what the girl was wearing. The small Victorian gentleman wrapped his arms round her waist. All that was missing from his outfit was a hat.

“We will be ever so good if you can think of a fun game for us. Like… like… Tag!” said a little girl.

The boy’s mismatched eyes continued staring at Elysia’s face. “I do have one rule Artemis.”

“What is it dear brother?”

“She must put that gun down or people might get hurt.”

Rain drops struck the twins’ faces as all traces of sunlight vanished. The boy pouted as he looked up at the overcast sky. He tugged his sister’s sleeve and she nodded. Artemis opened her mouth wide. The boy shrunk his head and stuck it in. She bit it off. Black smoke filled the area as the rest of the body vanished. The remaining twin wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

“Excuse me,” she added politely.

She vanished in a puff of smoke. The girl reappeared at Elysia’s side. Her outfit was completely different. She was wearing a white shirt underneath a red pinafore. There skirt flared out after her waist and ended just above her knee. There were two pockets with applique rabbits sewn on it. A red satin ribbon held her ponytail together. Black tap dancing shoes and lacey socks encased her feet. She reached out and pretended to bat at the woman’s hand.

“Now you’re it!” She exclaimed happily.

The child then took off. Her shoes clicked noisily against the asphalt side walk. The retreating figure started to melt. Black streaks flowed rapidly down the top of head to her legs. Soon all that was left was shadows and the sound of retreating footsteps. Her mocking voice grew fainter till the words were barely audible.

“Ring around the rosy… a pocket full of poises…”

Clack, clack, clack..

Each step of Svetlana’s stilettos overpowered the miniscule sounds of the coffee shop. It was 8:30 AM, and Svetlana had arrived for a morning drink.

“ Listen closely, I don’t repeat. I want a double ristretto venti Half-Soy Decaf Organic chocolate Brownie Iced Vanilla Double-Shot Frappuccino, steamed to 104 heat with light whipped cream.” Svetlana asserted in a casual tone, reaching to her wrist where she pulled a butterfly crested hairband and used it to tie back her hair.

“ Uhh..” The cashier stuttered, unable to even repeat the complex order back to Svetlana. She stood dumbfounded twisting her long brunnete hair around her finger, until the manager of Sweet Seven, Vanessa, walked behind the register pushing her aside.

“ I’ll get right on that, Svetlana.” Vanessa assured forcing a smile, she walked to the back and began to prepare the ingredients.

“ You know nothing of service border bandit.” Svetlana laughed, hysteric eyes looked back at the unfamiliar cashier.

“ She’s my daughter, Alondra, trying to introduce her to the family business.” Vanessa replied for her daughter, pouring the ingredients in the mixer.

“ That explains much.” Svetlana looked back at the girl, looking her up and down admiring the resemblance.

Creeaaaakkkk...

The front door of the coffee-shop opened and the clank of steel-plated boots entered the room. A once chatty crowed, had become silent. People put their coffee down, heads turned, and children stared. Officer Claudio stood in the door way, hand on his utility belt. The stench of tobacco being chewed, filled the room. He spit the tobacco into the drink of one the regulars, who’s face cringed in disgust.

“ Attention maggots, whores and old women!” The officer walked towards the counter, pulling out his gun and making childish poses. Every-once and awhile, he stopped and pretended to shoot one of the customers. He reached the counter and put an open hand next to the register, a grin stretching across his face.

“ You know, I feel like.. there are some poets in here.. This wouldn’t be a poet facility would it? Writing workshop? Hmm..” He laughed, tapping his fingers impatiently on the counter.

“ Officer Claudio.. How nice of you to stop by, I have nothing for you.” Vanessa replied, handing Svetlana her finished drink. Officer Claudio’s fist clenched in anger and he lifted it only to slam it down on the register.

“ Get out of my store, and go find another way to fuel your addiction.” Vanessa continued putting both hands on the counter top, staring Claudio dead in the eyes. Claudio paused for a moment, and then raised his hand slamming it against her Vanessa’s face. Vanessa collapsed onto her bottom behind the counter, sobbing quietly in pain.

“ Huh? You’d like to turn yourself in? Is that right poet?” Claudio said, grabbing the hand-cuffs off his belt and walking behind the counter.

Svetlana grabbed her coffee with one hand, and then looked over to Alondra. She sat dazed, hesitating to even move to help her mother. Svetlana quickly grabbed Alondra’s
wrist, and pulled her along to the back door. As they made their way out, the cafe became more noisy Vanessa struggling with Claudio.

“ My mom! Let me go, I have to help her!”Alondra now realized screaming, attracting more attention than Svetlana needed.

“ Don’t be stupid, do you have weapon? Do you have gun? You want to die, stupid?” Svetlana said with haste, as she reached into her purse and pulled out her car keys. She unlocked her silver truck with the press of a button, and then quickly helped Vanessa in.

Svetlana jammed the keys into the car, trying to start it with no success. The engine barely responded, gunshots now echoing from inside. Getting the truck started, Svetlana began to pull off, Alondra wept in the back seat, warm tears running down her face.

[ 30 minutes later;;]
“ Quit you’re crying, boo hoo. I will need boat for your river.” Svetlana said sarcastically, practically unable to sympathize.

“ My mother’s probably dead.” ... Alondra cried, in a quiet tone hugging her knees as she curled up in the backseat.

“ You know nothing border bandit.” Svetlana replied, slamming her foot on the brake, the truck came to a stop. Svetlana unbuckled her seatbelt, and opened her door getting out of driver’s seat.