Return of Darkness

Chapter 1- Sorina

The plan already began its descent. I clutch the suede necklace that I have worn for as long as I can remember. The thin wire wrapped around the clear, broken crystal digs into my hand. It should hurt, or at the very least be an uncomfortable sensation in my skin, but I don’t feel a thing. There is no weight to the stone or chill from the cold metal of the gold sun charm that hands from the wire pressing on my fingers. I can’t hear my ears pop as the plane edges closer to the ground. I don’t even see anything around me though I am wide awake.

My whole life I have known that I had been born into something special. My mother, Stela Oswald, well Stela Eminsca as he was known before marriage, claims to be from a long line of gypsies. She told me all sorts of stories about my heritage and how living in London had been some of the best years of her life.

“But I thought gypsies were a nomadic people,” I said as a little girl.

“And we were,” my mother replied. “But one day things changed and my bunic had to make a choice, live and stop travelling, or die and let our great secrets disappear forever.”

“And what secrets are those?” I asked.

“You will learn them, in your twenty-first year,” Mom answered.

That’s how every conversation related to my family’s mysterious past ends. It didn’t matter who I asked, my mother, my bunica Ileana Eminica, or my bunic Sorin Eminsca.

Hearing the screeching of the wheels on asphalt brings me back into the present. The other passengers applaud a safe landing. I suppose I would have joined them in their joy and relief if Bunica had not already told me that I would have an uninterrupted and boring standard flight. I prop my elbow up on the armrest and gaze out the window, my chin resting on my hand. The people being to fiddle with their seatbelts and turn on their cell phones.

It all seems so insignificant as I think back to my last words with bunica before getting on the plane.

“Keep that crystal on you at all times. It will play a big part in your life that you have yet to understand.”

Her thick Romanian accent remains in my ears, but the expression my grandmother wore upon saying those words scared me. Her deep brown eyes were clouded, her mouth small, and her forehead filled with overlapping wrinkles of concern. I think she was afraid for me. But what do I have to be scared of?

I am finally going to learn the secrets of my family! And it’s not like I’m staying in a hotel or some stranger’s house. Bunica owns a small home in London for this very purpose. A house who’s keys I now held in my hands as the plan pulled into the gate.

“Keep that crystal on you at all times.”

Damn it bunica! Her words echo in a continuous loop in my mind.

I shake my head and pull my brown hair into a loose ponytail. I’m twenty-one now! I won’t let anything sway me from the excitement coursing through my veins. Grabbing my carry-on bag, I find my way off the plane, nodding a silent thank you to the pilots and flight crew.

As I wait in line at customs, I ponder what Bunica meant about my stone. How can little piece of carbon have so much power over my life and all the lives who had come before me? Would it be so terrible if I took it off even for one day? Not that I would of course! This necklace was given to me by Bunic shortly after my birth. It’s all I have left of my grandfather.

“Welcome to England Sorian Oswald,” says the customs officer.

Did I really just answer all those questions and not even realize what I was doing?

“Thanks,” I smile and take back my passport.

If I’m quite honest, I’m far too lost in my own thoughts to check the time. I’m not even sure if I turned my phone back on. As I wait for my bags on the luggage carousel, my fingers brush against the metal sun.

It’s tradition in the Eminsca family for our names to be related to something celestial. Mom’s name is star, Bunica’s name means light. My name, like bunic’s name, means sun.

“You were born on the longest day of the year,” he told me. “You deserved a name that would be as bright as the sun.”

“And nothing shines brighter than the sun!” I squeaked.

I brush some stray hairs behind my hear, remembering those words. I was so small, but Bunic always made sure I knew how important I was. We shared a name after all.

“You are a child of light, a daughter f the sun,” Mom said.

“It is rare to have a daughter of sunlight,” Bunica reminded me.

I grab my bags and wheel them to a taxi. Climbing into the backseat, I see the translucent reflection of my brown eyes in the glass if only for a moment, until I focus my sights on the world speeding by. I’m not even sure what I’m supposed to be looking for, or if I should be trying to memorize streets or landmarks. My mind is too busy, to clouded, with questions from my childhood, as memories continue to sneak in.

The most important one being, am I nothing more than just the daughter of the sun?

I lean back into the seat and close my eyes, letting the world race past me.

What does that even mean? Daughter of the sun? the only one who never makes a big deal about the meaning of my name is Dad. Then again, he never understood mom’s family and heritage. He believed, still believes, that my interest in the mystical past with fade. He’s convinced it’s not that big of a secret, but what can he possibly know? He’s an outsider and not allowed into the intricate dealings of the Eminsca family.

The car stops. I peer out the window to the house I grew up hearing about. For a moment I stop breathing. The grey and brown stones are nothing special if I compare it to cottages I’ve seen before, but the intricate patterns of the ivy and vines growing on the right side of the house give it an old, rustic appearance. My heart thumps against my chest as I step forward. I barely hear the cab drive off as I open the door.

I drop my bags in the entrance hall and inhale deeply. The sweet scents of rose and geranium mixed with the cleansing scent of sage great me. The long hall is a continuous painting of the night sky. Blues and purples swirl together to allow the white stars to dazzle. I shut the oak door behind me. The wood floor creeks beneath my feet. I slowly raise my eyes up the path of the stairs and landing at the top to the high ceiling. I hear my pulse pounding in my ears. The herbal scents that greeted me could no longer ease my anxiety.

I pull out my phone and send a quick text to my family. I can’t talk to them right now. I don’t want Mom and Bunica to know how nervous I am. And dad, well, he would be on the next flight to take me home if he thought something was wrong. Sliding my phone back into my pocket, I carry my bags up the narrow staircase.

Unpacking will keep me from dwelling on things outside of my control. I nudge the second door on the left with my hip. My impending jet-leg disappears upon seeing the sky-blue walls of my new bedroom. Every last detail takes my breath away. The queen size bed has a comforter that is so white it appears to be made of starlight. There are four regular sized pillows, two of them being covered with pillow shams, as well as three decorative pillows, one star, one moon, one sun. Across from the bed are two paintings, the first a white wolf howling at the moon, the second a black dragon breathing fire into the sun. they take up most of the wall space.

Admiring the brush work of the paintings, I soon see on the small bureau a crystal vase full of blood-red roses. Is this where that heavenly smell originated from? I didn’t think roses could have such a powerful fragrance.

A small smile forms on my lips. A distant relative must have been here earlier in the day, preparing the house and this lovely gift in honor of my arrival. I approach the flowers, their aroma growing stronger with each step. It’s almost stifling with how heavy the scent is now, but I push it aside, feeling a strange and unfamiliar warmth. I must be imagining it and push the feeling aside as I spot an envelope net to the vase. Brushing my fingers across the embossed letters of my name, I admire the beautiful calligraphy and the unique shade of red ink.

My hand trembles as I begin to open it. Why? This paper is thick, almost like parchment. Am I afraid it will crumble to dust? I pull the letter from the envelope only to discover it is made of the same thick paper and written in the same ink.

Dear Miss Sorina Oswald,

Welcome to England. I hope your trip here was uneventful. I do apologize, that I cannot be here to greet you in person, for I am sure you are ready to begin your adventure in this unending maze that is your family’s legacy. Unfortunately, you will need to wait a little longer. Our official meeting has been preordained by the stars themselves. I am sure you will be quite brilliant on your own for some time, though I must give you some time, though I must give you some advice until then.

I implore you to be cautious. There are many who know of your arrival. They would wish to use you and your hidden powers to their own adventures. My lady, you will be in great danger. You, daughter of the sun, come only once in a millennium, and so there is much to fear.

And yet, I pray you do not dwell too much on what I have told you. As long as you have not awakened, you will still have a sense of sanctity and safety. I want you to do your best to enjoy the magic of London. There is much to experience here, and I am not sure how long you will have to enjoy it.

When the time is right, we will meet in person. Be wary and watch the stars. They are the only things that can save you and protect you whilst I am not at your side.

You must be patient. Do not go searching for me, and do not settle on anyone else who claims they will assist you in this quest. I will be with you soon enough and you will know it is me when the time is right. Your future has yet to be written, and there are many paths that you can take.

And for all that is good and holy in this world, keep your necklace on you at all times! Even when you come into your true power, it will be your greatest ally and weapon against the forces of evil. I want you stay protected, no, I need you to be protected!

Stay well dear lady,

A

A chill runs down my spine. This writer kept mentioning me to be cautious and adventurous at the same time. They want me to trust no one and yet enjoy my time before the secrets of my family are revealed. He or she kept mentioning my power and the stars as if they are sentient beings. I slowly lower the letter because through of the confusion and opposing advice, I am terrified. This ‘A’ person not only know more about my so-called destiny than I do, they know about my necklace. Who is this person? Why do they know so much about me and can I really trust them? Or is this letter a test to see if I will let my guard down and run away?

I sit on the edge of the bed, hugging myself as I ponder these question and more.