Orbs & Prophecy

3.
 Orbs & Prophecy

lex lifted himself from the ground, rubbing his hands against heavy eyelids; his head weighing greatly on his shoulders. Blinking his eyes awake, Alex glanced about the room. His memory foggy… to say the least; he remembered the silver orb that had appeared, coming to rest beside his foot. That had happened in the chamber of the First Council, but this was not that place. Alex had somehow arrived home. 

The glass doors at the rear of the house were closed, the wooden slats tightly pushed together to hold off the light. Alex nudged his head out the door; the sky was an unusual shade of red. Clouds were pulled across the murky sky as if being drug along by the nails of an angry hand; the sight was rather unnerving. Red and orange covered the landscape as far as Alex could see, but there was no sun in sight. It suddenly occurred to him that there was no wind, as if the world were holding its breath.

“HELLO!” Alex cried loudly, his voice echoing over the smooth grass of the field. The air rippling as his words somehow became an invisible solid.

No response was returned, the wrinkling of the air a disruptive sight. Alex was very much alone in this place. It was like the world had stopped turning while he had slept. A dense and heavy heat was coming from somewhere in the distance, hot enough that Alex felt the need to shield his face. Running a hand through his hair, Alex realized it had grown long again, long enough that it almost touched his eyebrows. Was he in a memory? 

Rounding the corner of the house, the hollow thud of Alex’s footsteps against the dark stained planks that made up the walkway were all that could be heard. The landscape below the house was picture perfect, blanketed by the red of the sky. The winding little river that wove its pattern across the valley looked as though it had stopped. The trees held their leaves still, the grass holding in a desire to sway. No birds overhead, no cars on the distant expressway. Whatever this was, it wasn’t home. 

The sporty red car that Alex had stolen in a previous moment of desperation was no longer parked in the driveway. However, like a hungry mouth, the door of the garage hung slightly open; daring Alex to look inside. Bending to gaze in at the eerie darkness, his stomach tightened. A strange and sickening fear arose, forcing Alex to run.

Alex sprinted down the road that connected the house to the main street; gravel scattering in all directions. Running as forcefully as possible, Alex made his way towards town. Though his steps were blistering, Alex’s feet made little sound as they beat against the black road that lagged behind. Passing hand painted meadows, parked cars, an empty church, and several tiny houses, not a single person was to be found. 

Sweating and out of breath, Alex slowed to a heavy walk as he arrived at Fifth Street. Pausing for a moment, he looked at the street sign. A tall silver pole, dented in several places, paint marks from car bumpers and dirt around the bottom. The sign itself hung very proper, green with white lettering: Fifth Street. The naming had always perplexed Alex. There were no other main roads in the town, though this particular sign suggested there might be.

Passing the first few houses on the street, having left the overgrown fields of brittle grass and wheat behind, Alex approached a window. There was no one to be seen. The love seats of the first house were empty, the kitchen of the second quite vacant, and the front door to the third tightly bolted. Alex didn’t call out; it seemed as though there was no point. If his voice was doomed to echo into nothingness he preferred to save his breathe. 

Arriving at the steps of Practical Magic, Alex stopped. He examined the lettering, noting the cracked and peeling red and gold that was once so smooth. Atticus, Alex’s most trusted friend, had been scrupulous when it came to painting the sign on the doors. Having done it several times before getting it ‘just right’, Atticus had declined magic in his efforts. 

Alex pushed against the tarnished handle of the door; it trembled, the door staying firmly in place. Though the door remained stationary, it was as if it feared denying Alex entrance. Unexpectedly, the handle ripped from Alex’s hand, the door thrusting open, slamming forcefully against the interior and swinging back. Shards of glass ripped from the door, raining over Alex. Shielding his eyes out of instinct, a terrible rumbling came from overhead. 

As the stoop beneath his worn feet began to shutter, a significant piece of the building’s wooden molding came crashing down from the third story narrowly missing Alex. The aged molding splintered into pieces as it met the steps that led to the door of the shop, the white paint that was crusted over the wood scattered like snow across the searing ground. With a jerk and a shift the entire building shook more forcefully, Alex, leapt from the steps, rolling into the street as an eruption of flames tore through the building. The rumbling continued, like an earthquake in the distance; bricks dislodged themselves, shattering as dust against the sidewalk. 

Pock marks of white appeared as more bricks flew forwards, several more windows shattering in a chorus of shrill shrieks. Like a hiccup from deep within; the building sunk down a foot, the brick face leaning back a considerable distance. Alex, helplessly confused and terrified witnessed a massive ball of orange erupt into the bloody sky, black smoking forming a wake. 

Splintered wood and bits of brick rained down over Alex, who quickly covered his head and coiled his body tightly in to avoid injury. As the scene began to settle Alex lifted himself from the rubble, the dust beginning to settle. 

“ALEX!” 

Surprised and thoroughly relieved, Alex spotted Jen standing at the corner.

“Where have you been?”

Running up to Jen, Alex gripped her by the shoulders.

“Are you ok?” 

“Alex… where have you been?” demanded Jen.

“What?”

“I need your help.”

“I need your help. We have to help-” Alex glanced around at the place where Atticus’ shop had self destructed.

“Alex, what’s wrong with you?”

Alex didn’t reply, staring blankly at the sight. The boards that had engulfed him as the fireball shot into the air were missing. Everything was remarkably clean, the street and sidewalk all but bare. There was no shattered glass, damaged merchandise, or even scars of charring left on the brick walls of the buildings that now stood only to hold open the space where the magic shop had been. Jen seemed blissfully unaware of this. She watched as Alex ran a hand over the tightly packed dirt of the vacant lot.

“It was just here.”

Jen glanced around as if expecting something to make itself known. Alex remained on his knees, knuckles upon the ground. Clearly frustrated, she was hesitant to speak.

“Where’s Atticus?” Alex asked, a somber note on his tongue. 

“He died… you know that.”

Alex looked about the lot where he knelt; thick grass was overtaking large areas, tall flowering weeds appearing.  

“Let’s go,” snipped Jen, gripping Alex by the wrist. In that moment Alex noticed that Jen was different, as different as the lot had suddenly become.

The two of them were swallowed from head to toe by a slender ring of blue. Alex felt his stomach churn as he squirmed in Jen’s clammy hand. He couldn’t feel the ground; the only things to be seen were the rear of his eyelids. As a bitter cold beat against their faces, tears formed in the corners of Alex’s tightly clenched eyes. With a hollow thud they met the ground, Jen on her feet, Alex on the street.

“Where are we?” Alex questioned, gazing about frantically.

A massive wall of fire raged in the distance; touching the mountains on both sides of the city. The heat Alex had felt before was greatly intensified. It felt as if he was getting a sunburn, but there was still no sun to be seen through the mass of red clouds that covered the whole of the landscape. The storm, or whatever it was, grew in the distance. It was expanding in all directions, the intensity of the heat growing with it. 

At the base of the fire: homes, trees, and lawns were bursting into flames before even making contact with the red giant. As they passed inside the cyclone of red the fires were extinguished and all that was left behind were black twigs and burnt out structures.

“What is that?” Alex cried, in shock, his legs feeling weak.

Jen turned her head slowly, as if Alex were out of his mind. Alex stared back at her; Jen’s face was strong, there was no sign of the timid witch he had first met. Strands of long blonde hair whipped around her face, adding to the intensity she was already presenting.

“That’s Meg’s mess,” she replied, shouting to be heard.

Alex had no idea what Jen was saying. 

“Are you ready?”

“What?”

“Are you ready?” roared Jen, irritated.

Alex didn’t know what to do, his mind spinning. Jen held out her hands

“Start the incantation!” Jen saw the blank stare on Alex’s face. “What’s wrong with you?” she cried, her arms dropping to her sides. “Did you forget the incantation? It’s Sambra. Lucen. Octan. Haun.”

“I shouldn’t be here,” yelled Alex, the heat of the flaming storm becoming unbearable.

“Alex, I can’t do this alone!”

“I don’t know what you want me to do, Jen!”

“You have… to do… it!” Jen’s words became muttered, coming out of her in a deep slow voice that wasn’t her own.

Jen’s mouth continued to move, though no other words passed over her lips. Beneath Alex’s feet the ground jumped, ripples tearing through the air similar to the effect he had witnessed outside the house when this nightmare began. Alex ran; he turned from Jen, running with desperate speed. He had to get away from her, from this place. 

Alex felt more confused now than he ever had. He suddenly wondered where Melissa had been in all of this. Why wasn’t she with Jen? Alex could feel his heart pounding, his breaths shallow, sweat forming on his brow. Stopping for air, he couldn’t escape the glare of the red beast in the distance.

Leaning against a building for support, he glanced around what had been downtown. The city had been completely deserted. Empty buildings and abandoned cars were the only figures to be found on the streets. The pavement was soft from the intense heat that was approaching, pulling at Alex’s shoes as he began to sink into the blacktop. Clenching his eyes shut, Alex searched for a moment of solitude. Trying desperately to escape the scene of destruction that was set around him. 

Opening his eyes, Alex was shocked to see Melissa sitting at the dining room table; spoon in hand, shoveling down what appeared to be oatmeal. Blue decorated the sky beyond the window, a bulky bird resting on the back of a colorful lawn chair. There was no sign of red anywhere on the horizon, the grass of the field beyond the house dancing in the summer breeze. Alex was confused. Was any of that real?

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