Eternal: Chapter Twelve, Part 3

But that wasn’t everyone. Justin and Angeline were married and started their own law firm together. He had taken my advice, though I had known that at the march. She had said yes, just as I knew she would, and she was the reason he joined Caroline that day. As much as they argued, they loved each other and there would never be someone else they’d want.

If you were wondering, their law firm was one of the most successful in the nation and represented the new government—by Caroline’s recommendation, of course.

Mitchell and Valetta stuck around helping Caroline until just before the first elections. Then they took off to travel the world, just as Valetta had always wanted to do with her love. It only took a couple hundred years, but she was living her dream un-life. There wasn’t anyone I knew who deserved it more.

And Mitchell? Well, he was still Mitchell. And no matter how old I become, I doubt he will ever stop making fun of me. But I wouldn’t want it any other way.

Obviously, the Council agreed I had made my significant impact. All charges against us were dropped and we went on with our un-lives. I had heard, though, because of vampiric support during my campaign and the new government being formed, the Council was considering co-habitation in a hundred years, give or take a score. Once co-habitation was established, after all, they could fully stake claim for their part in the revolution.

Elizabeth, the little girl from the march, didn’t see a doll of me made. In fact, no one ever made a doll of me. They did, though, make an angel of me, and she received that for her birthday—courtesy of Drei, who still found it hilarious. Surprisingly enough, the angel looked like me. Pale skin, blue-grey eyes, blondish brown hair, and arms open to welcome everyone and everything. Of course, she was called Leirba. What I didn’t expect was that she was the angel not of change, or hope, or peace, but of miracles. Another company called her the guardian of the impossible, including a story about how she magically came to earth one day, led a great movement for change against all odds, and disappeared when the people could see the path forward. It also promised she’d return again if they ever needed her.

As cute and inspiring as I thought it was, I hoped they wouldn’t need me again, and should they, I hoped someone else would be there to step up and take his or her turn. Otherwise I would be there, but I can guarantee you whoever was supposed to be stepping up wouldn’t like it.

My parents were reunited again, too. I bought a plane ticket for my mom, and left a message for my dad telling him when to be at the airport, which flight, and everything. It dawned on me I could have been there, as well. But the only thing I could do to right what had gone wrong was to give them back to each other.

I stayed at home and mapped it. I watched as she stepped through security, searching for someone familiar, anyone familiar. My dad searched for me, because I had left the message. The two of them finally saw each other, their eyes locking and everyone else seeming to freeze in place. Then he was holding her, so gently, terrified she wasn’t real. She started crying, wrapping her thin arms around him, telling him she loved him and she was sorry she ever had to leave.

A month later, he was divorced from my mother, leaving her the house and enough money to keep her satisfied for years. I think she had been expecting this as she didn’t put up a fight. She just let it happen, and a year later she was married to some guy down the block who divorced her a few months after for everything she was worth. I wouldn’t say she deserved it, because she didn’t, and I found it somewhat cruel that she had to work after never working on anything but a committee for years. I called Dad, left him a message about Kenzy’s situation, and he helped her get back on her feet, ensuring the next guy she married wouldn’t do the same by making him sign a pre-nuptial agreement.

Mom and Dad, though, they had a small apartment in New York, his favorite place in the world. They were happy and he was doing everything he could to help Mom heal after all she had suffered through. I was proud of her for taking the aid he offered—and found for her—and of him for stepping up and being home to help her. If I was lucky, my eternity with Drei would be filled with just as much love as their time together was.

Looking back, it almost seemed as though that march was where most people ended the movement, though it still technically continued into today. I found it strange and flattering. Though it wasn’t the end, it seemed to be the start of everyone’s future. For better or for worse, we had succeeded.

Finally.

Eternal: Chapter Twelve, Part 2

Within weeks of the march, Caroline had officially called for a complete removal of the government, as I had known she would. She explained, no matter what agreement they came to in negotiations, it wouldn’t be long before things reverted to the way they had been.

Initially, people weren’t sure what to make of it. They weren’t ready for something so radical, not when that would mean removing the entire governmental body in work and replacing it. In response, she explained Leirba’s Council—they left it in my name so not everything was changing—was already drafting possible temporary solutions. It was a huge country, they weren’t ignoring that fact, but this was also a huge problem. No matter what they did, it would take time.

When she presented her proposal for the new temporary government, a council instead of a single figure head, and larger councils below and at every level, people relaxed. This was her guarantee that not everyone in the most important positions would be regular or elemental, which even satisfied some of those still unsure about elementals and hell.

A few short years later, the existing government was dissolved. Every official had either been petitioned from office or forcibly removed when only a few remained. An online ballot was released and the first members of the Change Committee—the council that would lead the country in this exchange of power—were elected and met. Caroline and a regular were the co-presiding chairs, the other twenty members divided between elemental and non. Together, they decided to rid the government of political parties other than elemental and regular, so no one group had too much more control than the other. Other such decisions regarding the new government were made in those first meetings, and, slowly, were being made in each state by their elected Change Councils—the state-level equivalent of the Committee.

Last I had heard, things were running smoothly with the temporary government—though it didn’t seem so temporary as it had been in place for six years. There was, of course, plenty of chaos, but things were quieting as each Council grew stronger and reviewed their new respective constitutions for any amendments that needed to be made. Things were looking better. In another year there would be elections again for most of the Committee and Council seats, though many felt that almost everyone holding a seat would win it back so they could finish what they had started.

Caroline, in addition to her revolution work, had also come to some resolution with her parents. They remained adamantly against the movement and all related things, but she finally had the backing and the proof she wasn’t insane, unhealthy, or freakish. Though they wouldn’t back down, she argued she was still their daughter, regardless of how they thought she should be, and she was going to live her own way, with or without their approval. When they failed to provide a compelling argument for her to continue visiting, both Caroline and Ian were freed from their mandatory meetings with them. This saddened her slightly, but she was quickly consumed in other business. I had a feeling, given a few more years, they might come around to accepting societal norms had changed and could figure out they really did love her—elemental, angry, wild, and all.

Ian was painting, as he had told me he would be. His murals and collages, portraits and scenes were gorgeous and many were available for viewing online or in various magazines. He also had current shows in a New York Gallery of his Movement works, and another in England of his Pre-Movement works. There was rarely a critic with a negative comment, though even those existed.

The one piece I had explained to Caroline, the one he said I was in, he named after me: Abriel. I read an interview in which he was asked why it was called Abriel, who was Abriel. His answer: “She is the bravest person I know, and without her, none of us would be where we are today.” Though this thoroughly confused people, especially the interviewer, I felt touched. The world would know my real name, even if they couldn’t match it with a face.

By far, though, his Movement works were his best known. They depicted everything from our early meetings to our commercials, Caroline’s local speeches to small group work, his picket signs to Nick’s death. It was the single greatest depiction of modern history in the world. I wasn’t the only one to think so, and I was biased.

However, he wasn’t just painting and making appearances; Caroline wouldn’t let him off that easily. Whenever she needed help or a second, outside opinion, he was on her speed dial. He didn’t mind it so much, though. If anything, he missed having her boss him around sometimes. Since they had gone their separate ways, he was suddenly making every decision, even about his exhibitions. Occasionally, when setting up a new exhibit, he called her so someone else could decide how it should look for once, especially since she had no eye for art and could therefore give a properly unbiased opinion. No matter what happened, they were stuck together. It was a good thing they didn’t mind.

Jake and Kora both returned to college, changing their majors to political science, the new version—Jake for a master’s and Kora for a bachelor’s though it meant an extra year of study for her. Both wanted to continue being a part of the change happening around them, and politics was the place to do so.

Kora was married on the two year anniversary of the march. We were invited—Drei received the invitation through Valetta. I went alone, but stayed to the back of the crowd, dropped off her present at the reception and left. She was stunning, the wedding was perfect, and Dan couldn’t have been a better match for her. The gift was the angels of love and hope, a note tucked into the box saying, “No matter what happens in life, love and hope will always lead you true.”

Jake was reunited with his mother. There were tears and apologies and promises made anew. When they went home together, his father apologized for his cruelty, and Jake finally found his answer. He wouldn’t forget, but he could forgive them. All of them.

With his new attitude and his family reunited, it wasn’t long before Jake was dating—and then engaged to—the girl about whom he used to tell me. And guess who? Natalie, the girl he thoroughly pissed off in his ethics class. They were cute together, and they reveled in the occasional heated debate.

Mikael and Xenia co-authored a memoir on their participation in those two years with me. It was a best seller and paid for them to go through college to become environmentalists. They were both working toward doctorate’s degrees.

Xenia eventually dyed her hair back to its original color and settled down. She could be herself, and that was all she had ever wanted. Her friends and her were all still single, no man (or woman) able to keep up with them. Someday that might change, especially as more and more people were becoming comfortable with admitting they were elementals or that they were okay with those who were.

Mikael’s parents showed up not long after he was interviewed the day of the march about his involvement in the movement. They told him they had made a mistake and wanted him back in their lives. No matter how much they apologized, though, Mikael remained silent. When they stopped fussing over him, trying to figure out if he was ever going to say something to them, he told them what they did was inexcusable, but he appreciated the apologies. Then he asked they never contact him again unless he did so first.

It couldn’t have been easy for him, but I think that’s what had been bothering him in those times he looked sad. He was trying to figure out what he would do if they came back. It couldn’t have been easy, but he had decided for himself what was right. I didn’t worry about him, though; Mikael had surrounded himself with a new family, both from our group and from his boarding school. He nurtured and cherished those relationships, but otherwise focused on his studies.

Occasionally, all of them gathered together in our old apartment, talking or plotting for old time’s sake. Caroline had kept up the rent and had given permission for the landlord to give weekday tours as an added bonus. I think they thought now that everything was going better, I might come back. While I couldn’t stop caring about them all, I couldn’t go to them. I was dead, technically, and I felt it was finally time I started acting like it.

Eternal: Chapter Twelve, Part 1

Chapter Twelve: Working Towards the Future

After I handed control to Caroline, Drei and I returned to the apartment and packed what we needed, leaving the rest. We mailed a key to Caroline, in case there was something she needed from the last two years. Leaving the apartment was my choice, and Drei didn’t ask. I was done here, and continuing to be there…the memories would have killed me more than anything else.

Part of me felt bad for leaving them without saying anything. I could imagine them searching for us afterwards, unable to find us anywhere, confused and unsure why we had disappeared. The news crews that had been at the event talked about how they hadn’t found me to express congratulations or ask questions. Some people on the site mused I had been an angel, only there to show them the way, and gone the minute they could see where they were going again.

But I had done my part, as I had said. Anything that came next was up to them. They had to take control of their own futures, make their own decisions, and find their own way. None of them needed me anymore, no matter what they thought.

Besides, Nick was dead now because of me. I was beginning to understand the pain Caroline must have felt, but this time, she wouldn’t stop. Ian wouldn’t let her. And the note I had left with our apartment key assured her I was fine.

As for Nick, we returned his body to Lily, the only family he had other than Drei and I. I didn’t go with Drei. Imagining how she was handling it tore me apart; I couldn’t even stand to map it. It took her four days to calm down enough to make a decision. His body was cremated and the ashes spread in Winnsboro, where his family died. At last he could be with them again. In that, I found some comfort; little as it was, it was something.

Eternal: Chapter Eleven, Part 4

Screams engulfed the crowd; there was a flash in front of me, and I felt a bump, but I had no idea what was happening. It seemed impossible that someone had actually shot at me…again. But I was unharmed. Yet everyone was still pointing, their faces contorted in horror and fear. In the distance, I saw Nick’s team apprehend the shooter and quickly canvass through the crowd, searching for any other threats.

Everyone who hadn’t run was gaping, though, and when I looked at my feet, I saw why. Nick had jumped in front of me and took the bullet. I felt my heart break and my strength seeping away from me. How could this have happened? And now of all times? When everything was going so well.

Kneeling beside him, I smoothed the hair off his face. He was in a cold sweat and shaking. Glancing up, Ian was already on his cell phone, yelling that we needed an ambulance right away. The way Nick was squeezing my hand, though, I knew he didn’t have long.

“Abriel,” he whispered, holding on tighter to my hand. I could feel him slipping away and I didn’t want it to be true. It couldn’t be true.

“Don’t die on me,” I demanded, furiously wiping the tears blinding me from my eyes. “You aren’t allowed to die on me.”

“If you change me,” he murmured, “you’ll ruin…everything…you’ve worked for.”

I hated him for saying it because he was right, and it was what I had been thinking. Turning me had been Drei’s solution, and here it was one of my two options. But his words were true. Taking that route would undo everything I had put into motion; but I couldn’t just watch him die.

“But—”

“I’m dead…you know that.” He coughed, closing his eyes.

“Nick, don’t, please hold on,” I cried, squeezing his hand as his grip loosened.

“Finish it,” he said, struggling to inhale so he could speak. “I…love…”

“No, Nick;” I couldn’t stop myself from crying, or from holding him to me as he slipped through my fingers. Everything we had been through, everything we had done, and he was gone in seconds. “Don’t leave me like this. I love you.”

Drei knelt beside me, rubbing my back. It took me a moment to realize he was saying anything.

“—say something to them.”

Nodding, I wiped the tears from my eyes and signaled toward Caroline. She came over to join me.

Pulling myself together, I started improvising, just as we had planned. And as miserable as it made me to realize it, I had been right about how this had to end. “This is…was Nick,” I said, my voice stronger than I thought it would be. “He wasn’t an elemental, but he has been a friend to me for years, and now he’s also a victim of this injustice. It needs to end.” Looking at Caroline, I raised my hand to her. “Caroline will show you how.”

A wave of uncertainty and some grumbled complaints met me. They were scared, but this was the right thing to do. To truly take down the government wasn’t something I could do. For that, it required someone more willing to lead a coup. Complete removal of the government was the only way to keep things from reverting back to the way they had been.

“I brought you together,” I said, catching their attention again. “That was my job. I brought you together, gave you information, motivation, and a voice. What comes next requires a different kind of leadership. Caroline I trust with my life, and I hope you will as well. She will lead us faithfully into the next steps of change, and our new future.”

Despite the shock and depression in the crowd, there was applause, there was excitement and anxiousness, and I knew they would follow her. Caroline hugged me, whispering into my ear, “This is your baby, though.”

“It’s yours now.”

Some people left, more swarmed the platform, or any of the groups of elementals, asking questions and trying to find out what Caroline would do next. She made a public announcement to the news crews that she would have to meet with her advisors to discuss how to go about the next phase, but they would keep everyone posted. All they had to do was be ready to act.

While everyone was distracted, Drei had removed Nick’s body and I followed him away from the site. Away from the place where Nick had died protecting me and our campaign. Away from everyone I had worked with over the last two years, and wasn’t sure I could even face anymore. But, mostly, away from the place where my past seemed to end, and my future undoubtedly began.

Eternal: Chapter Eleven, Part 3

“I would like to begin by expressing my deepest and sincerest thanks for your presence here today.” Standing on the raised platform, news crews stalking along the base, the crowd of participants stretching along either side of the reflecting pool, I felt calm. Sure, there were a lot more people here than I had thought—it seemed we surrounded the entire length of the pool—but they were here because they wanted to be, because they were making a choice to listen and act. “Without you, all of you, none of this is possible. So thank you.”

Wild applause. Okay, so not so wild, but it was there and reassuring. At least I wasn’t losing them and just spouting off to myself.

When they quieted down again enough most could hear me, I continued; “I believe you’re here today, because you’ve seen the ads, read the available information, viewed or attended one of the local orations, and, most of all, because you care. Because you believed what you saw, what you witnessed, and you’ve made the decision to care.” Looking out at everyone, people were nodding, smiling, holding hands with their friends, some people looked to be tearing up even. “Elementals, as you have probably heard a lot in the past two years, are oppressed, are stripped of their rights as citizens, and are in hiding. Until now. We have been quiet too long, and now we’re strong enough to speak, and stand up; and with everyone here, elemental or not, we can make a difference.”

I stopped a moment, reminding myself to breath, relax, that I wasn’t going to cry. But it wasn’t easy. Speaking now, in front of everyone, where it really mattered, every reason I was doing this came flooding back to me, with every successful baby step we had already made. It was inexplicably satisfying, to say the least, to be standing there after so long, after having had sacrificed so much. After everyone had sacrificed so much.

“Any elemental, here with us, or watching at home, who would like to keep their secret, can,” I said, remembering Justin. No one was going to be forced into this if it wasn’t what they wanted, but I hoped they would be persuaded. “We won’t find you out. It’s your decision, just like being here today is your decision. A decision we—I am glad you made. But we would not be here without the help of my close friends and their willingness to step out with me.”

Sweeping a hand out to my right, I introduced, “Mikael and Kora, representing earth.” As Ian had instructed them, they stood in the grass and together—mostly Kora, though Mikael did what he could—they coaxed three trees into full height, intertwining into each other. Then they climbed up to one of the branches and waved in response to the awed applause.

 “Jake and Xenia, representing water.” Together, they shaped the water in the reflecting pool into a tall, thin sculpture of an angel, freezing her in place. They raised themselves on two small, frozen pedestals at either side, also waving as they were applauded. “Caroline—”

“And Justin,” he added, jumping onto the platform beside her, seeming to shock even himself.

“And Justin;” I smiled. So he had come through after all. “Representing fire.” Caroline whispered in his ear before they crafted a tower of fire skyward that transformed into a phoenix, flying a moment out over the crowd and greeted with dropped jaws and wide eyes. When the phoenix died away into smoke, everyone literally went crazy with praise, whistling and shouting at the top of their lungs. Angeline, I noticed, was one of the loudest and most enthusiastic. “Ian—”

“And Leirba,” Ian said, as was planned, both of us gesturing to each other.

“Representing air.”

Together we whisked the cherry blossoms Ian had gathered into a thin cyclone, changing it into the form of a woman, opening her arms and leaning out over them. Then the cherry blossoms separated, and we treated them much like butterflies dispersing amongst the crowd. A few children nearby I saw chase some, and gingerly held their prizes, excitedly showing their parents.

Though I wanted to introduce Drei’s part in this, I knew that would put me in a whole new set of trouble—considering this turnout should have won us our forgiveness from the Council. As for Nick, I had asked, and he insisted he didn’t want to be introduced, despite persisting he would be on stage with me. It was for my safety, he insisted.

“We represent each element, and are the first elementals to risk exposure. Some of you might ask why, after we’ve been in hiding so long and none of you probably knew we even existed, or that many others like you existed. The truth is, hiding doesn’t work,” I stressed, trying to strike a balance between demanding and understanding. “I grew up without my mom because she was found, and she had been in hiding. Jake lost his mother to the government, and she was in hiding. Xenia was forced to find other ways to express herself so she could stay hiding. Mikael was left by both of his parents due to hiding. Hiding doesn’t work—not for long,” I added, trying to hold eye contact with as many people as possible. “It leads to repression, depression, other unhealthy outcries, and lies. No relationship can be founded on lies or omissions.

“But this is what we are forced to do. Live every day lying to ourselves because it’s safer. But it isn’t, really.  It just delays the inevitable. Worse than that, though, it hurts. Not just us, but everyone we know.” I was treading into deep water, and I felt it; I had to remind myself I was strong, that I could talk about this without falling apart. I had to.

“When my mom was taken, she left behind my dad. He missed her immeasurably, because, do you know what the government says happens to those they take? The loved ones issue a missing persons report, and a year or so later, the government sends the order to officially claim the person deceased.” Breathe, I reminded myself. “And my mom isn’t dead, because I’ve seen her; I actually shared a cell with her for a month and saw firsthand what their…“tinkering” does. How it corrodes the brain and sends many of their prisoners into an irreversible state of insanity.

“I was lucky, though. Not because they let me go, but because I knew people who would find me, so that today, I could be standing here before you, working to end what’s happening.”

“But they can’t just make people disappear,” one of the reporters at my feet said into his microphone, reaching it up at me.

I opened my mouth to respond when someone from the audience stepped forward, saying, “They did it to my husband, and my father.” It was the woman who had approached me earlier that morning.

“And my sister,” someone else shouted.

“And my fiancé,” another voice called out. Before I knew it, it seemed half the audience was claiming a lost relative or loved one, some of them children or distant relations, others friends and parents. Many of those speaking up also admitted to having an elemental ability; my team gestured for each person to join their respective group, welcoming them with hugs and condolences. The reporter who had complained seemed to be shrinking under everyone who contradicted him. Even his fellow reporters were stepping away.

“What’s worse than taking people we love and telling us they’re dead, is what they do to them in there. What makes them go insane and eats away at their brain,” I began again, a quiet washing over my audience. “At first, they wanted to figure out a way to force elementals to use their gifts as weapons in warfare. But after more research, they discovered that every elemental has a direct connection to their element, an entity more powerful than all of us combined. And thus, they began looking for how to tap that entity, whether it killed us or not. They didn’t care…they don’t care. To them, we don’t exist, because most people don’t know about us. But we exist,” I asserted, restraining myself from yelling. “And we have the same right, as every other citizen, to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.”

It wasn’t just the elementals in the crowd who were cheering me on, supporting me, giving me strength to say what so desperately needed to be said. It was everyone, and it felt so right to be there, for them to be there, for this to be happening at that moment.

“We are people. We are citizens. We are entitled to our equality. And we will not be silenced.”

BANG!

Eternal: Chapter Eleven, Part 2

Speaking of the devil, Caroline and the others arrived in cheerful moods, some of them carrying signs that I didn’t know they were bringing. Ian explained it was his idea, and he’d made almost all of them. Everyone looked great and healthy, and Kora even introduced me to her now fiancé, Dan. He even looked like a great guy, considering the last time I had seen him was at a distance.

“Thank you for everything you’ve done for Kora,” he said, hugging her shoulders. “Some days she can’t stop talking about what you’re doing and how great you are.”

“I do not,” she said quickly, her cheeks flushing.

“Thank you for making her happy,” I said, touching his shoulder, smiling.

After listening a while to him insist she was the one who made him happy and their following playful banter, I excused myself. Jake and Mikael both hugged me, giving their thanks, while Caroline and I laughed some more over the doll comment. Xenia had brought her friends and introduced me—Katie, Michelle, and Erin were all earth, but Emily and Lisa were regular people who loved and supported their friends—and all of them hugged me.

Other people, of course, kept coming up to say thanks or gush or talk about other things, some asking questions about myself personally or the movement in general. A few more excited children told me and Caroline about their favorite parts of our previous orations and we performed small tricks to entertain them. Drei, at one point, came up behind me and pointed out several people—most of them in groups off to the side here or there, some looking over their shoulders at everyone else—informing me we even had vampiric supporters. Before I could ask, he promised Mitchell and Valetta were going to keep tabs on them so I wouldn’t have to worry.

It wasn’t all happiness, though. There were plenty of protestors, people calling me a demon, a witch, a whore, a devil, among other things. I was even spat at a few times, but I simply smiled at them. I didn’t understand why these individuals felt so much hate and fear when we had done nothing to harm them; I knew we had detractors and I had seen them before, but it still depressed me knowing there were people who would support treating us as less than human.

One of the protestors stopped a foot in front of me and began yelling obscenities in my face, her face turning a purplish red. A woman from Nick’s team stepped between us and calmly asked the woman to step back. Soon, three others from our security detail arrived and escorted the woman and the other protestors away from the area.

“Hey,” Nick said, smiling and appearing at my side. “They didn’t harm anyone, did they?”

“No. They handled it really well.”

“Good. We’ll try to keep anyone else like that back,” he said, looking off in the direction his team had led the detractors.

“How have things been going so far?” I asked, unsure if I should be worried about him or not. There was something strange about him, and it wasn’t just that he looked tired. It was something else; something I couldn’t quite pinpoint.

“So far, it’s pretty smooth. That’s only the second group we’ve had to remove,” he said, turning his bright green eyes to me, smiling easily. He glanced down at his watch just as Drei reappeared.

“We should begin the march,” they said in unison. I couldn’t help but laugh; I couldn’t remember ever thinking the two could be in sync.

After exchanging a smile, Drei nodded and Nick finger whistled, the sound shrill in my ears. “They’re all yours,” he announced, smiling once more before running off to his position.

Turning to face the quieting crowd, their eyes were all watching me, waiting for me to begin. I noticed that not only had the group grown exponentially large in an hour’s time, but a good half of them had signs in their hands, not all made by Ian. Smiling, I opened my arms to them and allowed my voice to carry on the air all the way to the back. “Welcome to the start of a new tomorrow. Shall we begin?”

A cheer erupted through the crowd. I waited only a moment before turning around and starting down the street, Drei beside me, most of my council a step behind us, and so much running through my mind I could have sworn my heart was beating at breakneck speed. There we were, tens of thousands of people, if not a hundred thousand or more, following me. Following me into a future we could only hope would be better.

Eternal: Chapter Eleven, Part 1

Chapter Eleven: Unstoppable, Unalterable

Mitchell, Valetta, Drei, and I arrived at the starting location, approximately two and a half miles from the reflecting pool. Even an hour early, there were quite a few people waiting—about forty or so. Nick had left the house a few hours before us to ensure everything was ready, review instructions with his men and women, and then post them at various locations around the start point. They would follow the crowd to the reflecting pool, where they would take predetermined surveillance positions.

The whispers started as we approached. I told myself the whispers had been there before we neared; they weren’t for us and certainly not for me.

But they were all about me; all that I could hear anyway. It was strange. The last time so many people had been whispering about me, I had lost control the day before at school and had an entire school paper dedicated to my freak out. That it was happening again made my heart race and my breath catch. I forced myself to breathe deeply and reminded myself this time the whispers were good.

“Thank you,” a woman said, walking up to me, taking my hands in hers and smiling. Her blonde hair was down, floating around her face in the gentle breeze of the day. “Thank you for fighting to give us normal lives.”

“Thank you for bringing it to our attention,” a dark skinned man with a thick southern accent said, smiling at both of us. “We never would have known what was happening, or that we could even do anything about it, without you.”

“She’s over here, Mommy,” a little girl shouted, tugging on a woman’s hand, her brown hair pulled back and her hazel eyes sparkling. Her mother looked nervous, though her daughter didn’t stop pulling her along. “It’s Leirba, Mommy. I told you she’d be here.”

“Of course, she’s here, darling;” her mother glanced apologetically at me.

Crouching down so I was eye level with the girl, I asked, “What’s your name?”

“Elizabeth,” she said, digging a foot in the ground. “My mommy and I saw you once when you were talking to people and then you were flying and it was so cool!” She looked up at me with large eyes, bouncing on her toes. “And I told her I want a doll of you for my birthday, because if they make dolls of TV people, then you should have a doll, too, right?”

Smiling, sensing Drei trying to hold back a laugh behind me and Valetta swatting his arm, I replied, “I’m not sure how the doll thing works, but if you ask your mommy really nicely, I’ll let you fly for a little bit.”

Gasping, she turned to look up at her mom; “Can I? Oh, pretty pretty pretty please, Mommy? Can I?”

Her mother asked, “Are you sure it’s all right. I wouldn’t want to be a nuisance.”

“It really isn’t a problem if you don’t mind,” I said, still smiling.

Glancing down at Elizabeth, she smiled, nodding. “Sure, sweetie. But don’t whine when she tells you it’s time to stop, okay?”

“I won’t, Mommy, don’t worry.”

Stepping back from the crowd of people around us, Elizabeth followed and asked what she had to do.

Holding out a hand to her, I said, “Don’t let go of my hand, and when I say jump, just jump a little into the air, okay?”

Taking my hand, she nodded energetically. I started up the circle of air beside her, keeping it slow and low to the ground to start. “Okay, jump.” In the second she was off the ground, I slipped the flow of air under her feet and circled it around me slowly, lifting her only about a foot high.

At first, she wobbled forward and backwards, trying to catch her balance. Then she kept glancing between me and her feet, as if trying to understand what was holding her in the air.

“Don’t move too much,” I warned her, “you might lose your footing.” After a while, she was holding her other arm out and waving to her mom, smiling and talking about how cool it was and how jealous her friends were going to be when they found out about it. She was having so much fun I couldn’t help but smile. And yet there was a small pang of sadness as I was reminded that my mom wouldn’t be there. Instead of burying the emotion, I embraced it, channeling it into motivation for what was coming.

When I told her it was time to stop, she didn’t complain. Elizabeth jumped down when I said to and took only a moment to regain her bearings before running to her mom and hugging her fiercely. She couldn’t seem to stop recounting the details and her mom just smiled, laughing with her and listening avidly.

“Thank you,” she said to me before they walked away.

Elizabeth ran back for a second, hugging me around the waist, saying, “Thank you! It was the bestest present ever!” I watched as she ran back to her mom and they joined a group of people they knew.

“A doll?” Drei said into my ear, a smile in his voice. He was struggling not to laugh, his lips twitching slightly in the effort.

“Why is that so funny?” I asked, hitting him lightly on the arm. “I thought it was cute.”

“It was very cute;” he smirked, his fingers smoothing the loose hairs around my face back toward my ponytail. “I just cannot imagine you, my love, as a doll.”

“What? You don’t think I’m cute enough?” I pouted, knowing it wasn’t what he meant at all, but enjoying teasing him.

“Now I never said that;” his lips curled even more. “I find you positively gorgeous.”

“Besides, a doll could never capture your essence,” Valetta added, patting Drei on the shoulder as if to tell him to shush now.

“And it would make you seem more…plastic,” Mitchell added, tapping his chin. “That sounds slightly inane.”

“Because it is?” Valetta offered, hugging him and kissing his cheek.

“I think I know what he meant,” I said, smiling, thinking of what Caroline would say when she heard about it.

Eternal: Chapter Ten, Part 3

Two weeks passed, with only two to go. We were mostly prepared, and what we weren’t ready for we never would be, so it didn’t matter. I tried to stay away from everyone, the anxiety palpable almost to the point of unbearable; I noticed Ian wasn’t around much either unless it was just the two of us, sometimes Drei as well, hanging out in our apartment. Even that wasn’t often.

Then again, I was also busy. No one knew with what, but it was my project for Drei, my gift back to him. Whenever I’d had time, I had been searching, slowly working through a long list of burial sites and graveyards, marking off the ones that didn’t have what I was looking for. There were a couple of times I thought I had found them, but upon closer inspection, they were too old or too young, or too recent—the decay not far enough along.

Unexpectedly, not in a cemetery, but just outside of one, was one deep grave. Inside, from what I could tell, were buried two little girls in a single casket. They were barefoot, no suggestion of shoes anywhere in their grave. What was left of their clothes suggested a flimsy dress—flimsy from how little there was left of it. They seemed to be in approximately the right stage of decay, based on my brief research on the subject.

Pulling out of my mapping, I checked where I had been looking. A small graveyard overseas, to the north and near the coast. Before I told Drei, I wanted to check it out for myself, but knew I didn’t have the time or the means. Mapping it again, I was sure it was Avery and Ashlyn.

I could have asked Valetta or Mitchell to check for me, but what if they told me I was crossing a line? I should keep my nose to myself and not even think about opening those old wounds for him, especially if I loved him. It seemed all I could imagine was the worst, no matter how hard I tried to come up with anything that was positive.

Those thoughts didn’t help, though. As I contemplated telling Drei, the words from my scenario kept playing through my head. No one had even said them, but they were there nonetheless. If you love him, you won’t tell him. And as those words stopped, the thought that he deserved to know kept pushing me towards it. I was caught between a rock and a hard place and I wasn’t even sure how. It was all in my head but it all seemed real.

I finally broke down the last night of April, the night before the march. Or, more precisely, it had been bothering me for so long, Drei finally drew it out of me.

“What is the matter?” he asked as we sat together on the couch, running his fingers through my hair as he set down the paper he had been reading—the front page was chock full of information for the public on tomorrow.

“Nothing,” I said, shaking it off and closing my eyes. He didn’t know; he didn’t need to know, I told myself in an attempt to cover up the voice telling me he should know.

Glancing down, I felt him inspect me, looking for some clue as to what I was thinking. “It is unhealthy to keep it to yourself.”

Unhealthy. I was reminded of my thoughts about Jake bottling his emotions; that was the word I had used then to describe it. And now Drei was telling me the same thing because I was bottling it up. But I didn’t want to believe it. This was different; this was me, and Drei, and his sisters. This was my relationship, not anger and sadness at my family. It was different, not at all the same thing.

“You can tell me,” he insisted, pulling me from my thoughts.

Glancing up at his pale, amethyst eyes, I knew he was telling the truth. I could tell him; he wouldn’t let it ruin what we had, and I could finally get it off my chest.

“I think I found your sisters,” I whispered, looking away. Though his eyes promised a calm reaction, my mind still warily remembered some of his past reactions. He had the ability to be cruel, even to me.

“How?”

I hadn’t expected that; my voice had sounded so soft to me I thought his first question would be for me to repeat. But it wasn’t, and that threw me for a moment. “Over the last couple of years I’ve been mapping graveyards and burial grounds, trying to find them for you,” I said timidly, still unable to gaze up at him. If he had looked away from me, I might have been able to, but his gaze was steady. “And I think I found them. I have it marked on a map, if you wanted to see;” I stood to retrieve it.

Drei captured my hand, stopping me. He stood, taking my other hand in his, trying to catch my eyes.

“Abriel,” he said, softly but clearly, and our eyes met. His eyes were watery on the edges but glinting, the slightest curve to his lips. “I appreciate what you have done for me.”

“It wasn’t anything special;” I broke our gaze and glanced around the room. His eyes were so intensely focused on me and I couldn’t read any emotion coming from him; the combination unnerved me. “I just thought I could help, since I had some extra time and, you know, some—”

He chuckled, a deep rippling sound filling the space between us. “There is no need to babble,” he said, lifting my chin. “You have done nothing wrong.”

Looking up at him, he was wearing a full smile now, white teeth and all. “Really? You’re not mad?” I asked, feeling myself shiver. Why was I shivering?

Shaking his head, his shaggy hair jostling a little, he elaborated, “I am not upset with you. You have done me a great service, Abriel,” he persisted, closing the gap between us and folding me into his arms. “Why are you shivering?”

I wrapped my arms around his waist, shaking my head. I didn’t know why I was still shivering. It wasn’t fear, because I wasn’t frightened anymore by how he might react. He had already reacted, and it was the best case scenario I hadn’t been able to imagine.

Then it dawned on me: I didn’t want him to say he was going to find his sisters’ graves instead of being with me tomorrow. I wasn’t sure if I could lead that many people through the capitol to the reflecting pool and then speak to them. Inspire them. Say what hadn’t been said in so long. Not if he wasn’t there. Nick may have helped my first tour, but this was a larger scale and it was much more important I didn’t completely foul it up.

But Drei had waited so long for this, and I wouldn’t stop him if he decided to go. I loved him; I had found them because I knew not knowing where they were had haunted him; he deserved to have closure so that wound could finally heal.

“I’ll get the map,” I said, still holding onto him, “so you can go find them. Tell me if I was right.”

When I went to pull away from him, Drei didn’t let me go. He just held me tighter and I couldn’t fathom why. He wanted this, had waited centuries for this, and now he was stopping me from giving him the information that had so long eluded him?

“Tomorrow is important for you,” he whispered into my ear. “I will be there for you.”

“But you’ve waited hundreds of years,” I argued, not understanding why he was doing this. He should be going to see if I was right, not staying here with me.

“I have waited hundreds of years, as you have said,” he repeated, holding my gaze, not letting me look away this time. “I can wait a few more days.”

“But—”

“Abriel,” he interrupted—having done this more frequently over the past months, especially when it came to arguing about sleep or the like, it didn’t concern me as much as it used to. “I would like to go, but tomorrow I will be here for you.”

Biting my bottom lip, I withheld my argument. I didn’t understand why he would put it off longer than he needed to, but maybe when I was as old as he was now, I’d understand. Tonight, I wouldn’t; I could be sure of that much.

“Besides,” Drei added, his eyes focusing on something else, “I would like you to be with me when I go.”

“Of course,” I promised, tightening my arms around him.

We stood that way for what seemed like a long time, though it couldn’t have been that long. It was still the night before the march when he suggested I sleep, kissing my temple and then leading me to the room.

I didn’t fall asleep right away, though I honestly couldn’t remember falling asleep at all that night. My brain seemed completely preoccupied with trying to figure out why he was putting me before them when they had been important to him longer. And as I asked myself that over and over again, the only answer that came to mind was that he loved me, and love made us do strange things.

Eternal: Chapter Ten, Part 2

A month before the march, I met with Justin and Angeline again. While Justin was still reluctant to admit he had less than a casual understanding of the movement, Angeline had been known to call, asking questions, and not just of me. After she actually started reading the information and watched the copies of our speeches online, she was an avid follower, always wanting more information. She often complained that Justin was too disinterested, not even having an opinion on the whole thing. But it was his choice, and I already told him I wouldn’t make it for him.

“Only a month left,” Angeline stated as I entered the meeting room we always used. “You know, everyone keeps asking how it is I ended up advising you.”

“Yeah, we’re the envy of our coworkers,” Justin added, a note of bitterness to his voice.

Smiling politely, I took a seat and waited for them to do the same. Justin leaned back in his seat, crossing one leg over the knee of the other and twirling a pen between the fingers of his left hand.

“We’ve run a clean campaign so far, with minimal incidence,” I said. “What I want to know is your professional opinions on what to expect during the march.”

“It should run smoothly,” Angeline said, glancing at Justin, her voice too sweet and sure.

“Honestly,” I amended, regarding them carefully. From everything I had read about marches and such in the past, I could gather some idea of what to expect. But I needed to know for today, for this movement, what might happen.

Biting her lip, Angeline didn’t say anything. Instead, she kept glancing from me to Justin, hoping I’d withdraw the question or he’d answer for her.

Justin exhaled heavily, shaking his head, but then he turned his gray eyes on me. “You should be fine since it isn’t a riot or anything. There will, inevitably, be the people who think you’re dangerous, that you’re lying, unnatural and so on present, but a small security detail can remove them without much incidence.”

“Nick’s been talking with his detail, making sure they understand violence is an absolute last resort and won’t be tolerated otherwise,” I said, nodding my head. Justin studied me for a moment as though this shocked him.

“Just to be on the safe side, I’d have Nick tell them no violence at all.” The longer he put off saying whatever it was he wanted to say, the paler he became and the faster that pen twirled. I wondered if he realized that.

“Tell me,” I demanded softly. Whatever it was, I obviously needed to know. If I didn’t, I couldn’t take any precautions to possibly prevent it.

“More than likely, you’ll have to face some kind of government intervention,” Angeline finally said when Justin didn’t volunteer. “Anything from angry people, as Justin said, to police waiting for someone just rude enough to call violent, from your bounty hunters causing a stir to assassins.”

“Keep in mind, any shooters or assassins might not be government related,” Justin added quietly, “and the likelihood of them being prosecuted is slim if they do manage to do any harm. Your group has become somewhat high profile, so they can’t make you disappear, but that doesn’t mean they won’t try or allow something to break the movement up completely.”

Well, there wasn’t any way to guard against that. I hoped since we chose the reflecting pool, it was open enough to avoid that sort of threat. But it seemed it didn’t matter where we were. I would have to bring it up with Nick, see what he was planning to do about it, if anything at all. My concern wasn’t for myself as much as it was for everyone else with me. They were considerably more partial to bullets than I was, and I didn’t bring anyone into this to see them injured. My movement was to lessen the grievances against us, not increase them.

“You asked,” Justin reminded me, and I realized I had been quiet for quite a long time.

Smiling at them, I said, “Thank you.” I stood, and they jumped to their feet as well.

As we shook hands, Angeline inquired, “Are you worried? Because you shouldn’t be. The chances of it happening, especially at the reflecting pool—”

“Are slim,” Justin finished for her.

“So were the chances we’d end up this far in this amount of time,” I replied, still smiling. “It’s good to know what might be coming.”

Justin stopped me near the elevators again, asking if I was okay.

“I’ll be fine. I’ll face whatever I have to, as I’ve always done.”

“You don’t have to lie to me,” he said, a pained look on his face as though he were insulted and feeling guilty at the same time.

Taking his hand in mine, patting it, I said, “Don’t worry about me. But, ask her out.”

“What?” he asked, jumping back slightly and staring at me wide-eyed. “Who?”

“You know who,” I told him, smirking. “She might say no, but she’ll want to say yes. Trust me.”

Winking, I left him, muttering under his breath to himself, trying to figure out what had just happened and some way to tell me I didn’t know what I was talking about. However, I knew what he didn’t want to admit. They were made for each other. All he had to do was tell Angeline.

Eternal: Chapter Ten, Part 1

Chapter Ten: Counting Down

Though I knew I wouldn’t use a pre-prepared speech, I still sat with Caroline while she wrote it. If nothing else, I could use it to go over my main points and wing it, as that seemed to work for me. Besides, if I wasn’t there, she might have switched it into her style of speech, the kind to attract people through anger, not through informed choice. Yes, that meant fewer followers, but that was how I wanted it. Level-headed people were easier to lead and talk to than hotheads.

When I toured the second time, Drei came with me. He was doing better and took his directive seriously. I slept every night—long enough for it to be considered sleeping—and ate regularly…well, drank. He was never overbearing about any of it—except maybe the sleeping thing. It still felt like we were in a romantic relationship, which was important.

Afterwards, both Caroline and I had several requests to speak at universities and various other forums. We accepted what we could handle—Drei and Ian both having a strong word in the decision as they knew our boundaries better than it seemed we did, at times.

Everything was looking great, even if there was still a huge chunk to do yet. There were also still the vocal naysayers and the bounty hunters shadowing our travel. We always had to be cautious when returning home, trying to shake any who may be following us before nearing our neighborhood. It seemed we were successful at this, but I suspected their directive had changed from capture to something potentially more sinister. My schedule kept me busy enough, though, my brain hardly had time to fall down that dark rabbit hole of guessing.

Over the next five and a half months, we didn’t have anything specifically planned except preparing for the march. It was Nick and Ian’s idea that I take a few more speaking engagements over those months so it didn’t feel like we had abandoned them, which Valetta and Mitchell supported.

Valetta and Mitchell were preparing to leave on rounds again, ensuring everyone still felt content and comfortable now that the main message was well circulated. We even had air time from our second tour and extra engagements. The site was publicized for free on news stations; although not all of what they said was positive, enough people had seen the commercials or heard us speak that a little bit of bad publicity didn’t hurt us much.

It was interesting to read what people wrote on the forums about the different views of the networks. While some found it outright hilarious, others were really upset by it, venting their anger in long-winded rants. They made a lot of good points—some of which could be found elsewhere on the site—and I found those touching. People cared enough to be angry, and that was a compliment. A huge one.

During the days, Nick was selecting his security detail, interviewing a wide variety of individuals to ultimately choose thirty people. Drei was helping him as he had been on Caroline’s muscle squad and had a way of reading people, as well as intimidating those who weren’t up to the challenge. Although Nick sometimes complained, I could tell he was somewhat grateful. Fifteen—out of 18—that he had already interviewed had cracked under Drei’s gaze, and Nick had liked them as well. Considering Nick had cracked under that same gaze only once that I could remember—mostly because Drei had bared his fangs—none of those 15 were asked back, for the time being.

While they were busy with that, Caroline, Xenia, and Kora were collaborating on the speech—Kora and Xenia mostly through video conferencing. Most days that’s where I was. Since I would have to follow the speech this time, it was important I actually knew what I was supposed to say. The first part was, again, about elementals, this time with demonstrations as I spoke. From there, we segued into what the government was doing in their hidden facilities, then moving into our rights as people and a need for liberation. Caroline and I spent several nights, just the two of us, trying to figure out how to end it. Part of me wanted to just tell her I wanted to hand everything over to her at the end since that’s when it stopped being so idea based and real action would need to be taken. That was her forte.

She probably would have turned me down if I had brought it up; not because she wouldn’t want to accept but because she might still think she wasn’t strong enough after what had happened to me. Caroline was strong, though. But even if I had told her that, she wouldn’t have believed me.

Eventually we decided to leave the end up to improvisation. I could read the crowd and know what needed to come next, what would make for the perfect ending. It felt right that we didn’t write the end, as though something was going to happen and change how it would wind up anyway. But I didn’t want to be a pessimist. Everything was going to be as close to perfect as was possible. It had to be.

After we finished the beginning of the speech, we sent it to Ian, who was working with Mikael and Jake—again mostly through video conferencing—to work on the choreography. Instead of demonstrations at the end or interrupting the speech, we had decided to incorporate it into the beginning in ways similar to the demonstrations in the commercial. Ian, being the artistic soul among us, was heading the choreography. Occasionally, I stopped in to see what they had worked out and it amazed me how ideal it was. Though it wasn’t what we would usually do if we used our powers for fun—because it was artistic—it was graceful and poetic. Ian was going to work with Caroline on her part of it as she was the only fire elemental I had who was willing to admit it.

Jake had started calling and messaging me semi-frequently. He was doing better, slowly returning to the way he had been; he would never be that way fully again, but he was working on being more level-headed and warmer towards people. Any time he was having trouble venting or letting go of something that had happened, he contacted me. And as soon as I could, we would talk it out. Sometimes he called just to talk about how great his day was, or to tell me about a girl he had met who supported our campaign. On those days, I’d ask if he had thought about facing his dad again. The answer was always no, though, over the months, he had been increasingly more hesitant to reply. Eventually, I knew he’d say yes, and if he asked me to come with him, I would. But until then, I’d ask another question, usually about the girl, and he’d perk right up again.

Kora was even beginning to relax. Her boyfriend had asked her about the movement and about her involvement—she said he had told her he was interested—and she was honest with him about everything. After she told him, she asked if he thought she was a freak and wanted to break up. But instead, he told her he loved her even more and asked what he could do to help. When she told us during a video conference she was glowing. All of her worrying had been for nothing.

Xenia still had her hair dyed, recently changing it to a pale blue, but she was happier, as well. Over one of her breaks, she stopped by and thanked me. It turned out a couple of her friends were also elementals—granted they were earth—and all of them felt better about being able to be open and honest. She said some people were scared and still thought they were unnatural and dangerous, but most people thought it was cool.

And Mikael was still Mikael. He was still happy and optimistic, supportive. Some days I wondered if he missed his family at all, just because there was an occasional sadness about him. When I would ask, he just shook it off and insisted he was fine. I wasn’t sure I believed him, but I knew, no matter what it was, he’d be okay. If he wasn’t, I hoped he knew he could talk to me about whatever it was.

Eternal: Chapter Nine, Part 7

I waited, glancing from one person to the next, especially watching the doubters, hoping someone would speak up. My eyes wouldn’t beg anyone for a question, but I knew they were out there; just watching their faces, there were questions.

“How do we know you’re not making this all up?” Nick asked, filling the silence that no one else would breach, ending the anxiety and annoyance it had begun to instill in me. A good deal of attention was shifted to him for a moment before returning to me, many mumbles consenting with this question.

“Because I’m an air elemental. I grew up without my mother, another air elemental who was found and taken away by the governmental detail we refer to as bounty hunters. Because this is not something I would joke about.”

“Prove it,” a woman shouted from one of the picnic blankets.

I had spent the night thinking about what I would do and had determined a few ways, starting with the less showy. The woman who asked was named Dolores, which I found out from her friend who was somewhat embarrassed she had spoken up. Dolores—a tall brunette, curvy, and middle-aged—was thinking about her kids and the teenaged babysitter she left them with, whom she didn’t trust not to invite over her boyfriend or friends.

“Dolores, would you tell your friend with you…” I was saying, a trick to make her think her friend’s name for me, “…Joanie, that she shouldn’t be embarrassed you spoke up. This is an open forum because I don’t want any of you to believe me just because I say you should.” The women exchanged a confused look and there was some murmuring from the people gathered. “Because I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable,” I added, one hand on my chest, one hand reaching out toward her as if I could pat her hand, which I did do with the air, “I won’t ask for your address, but I think you should trust your babysitter. She probably has the kids playing a game or something.”

Dolores started talking excitedly to Joanie, first demanding if she had spoken to me at all and how I could know all of that. I withheld a smile, proud of myself, though I knew most people wouldn’t believe either of them.

“So how long have you known Dolores and Joanie?” a guy, standing relatively close to Nick, demanded, crossing his arms.

“I’ve never met them before,” I replied, “but you won’t believe me. And that’s okay.”

“Do something else?” a little black haired boy requested, his mother quickly shushing him though he waved her off.

“What do you want me to do?” I asked him, crouching down as he was in one of the lawn chairs near the gazebo steps.

He leaned forward excitedly, his rich brown eyes wide and glistening. “Can you fly?” he half-whispered.

Smiling, I stood again. “I can do something like flying,” I admitted, facing the skeptic near Nick.

“You probably know him, too,” he quipped, sneering. Some people just had no manners.

“She doesn’t,” the boy’s mother insisted, holding his head to her chest before he pushed her away, waiting eagerly to see his request fulfilled.

“Then you wanted someone to say that. There’s probably wires,” he reasoned, and while a few people agreed with him, more of them were tired of his doubting, even if they still weren’t convinced.

“So choose someone, anyone here, to check for wires,” I invited, opening my arms to encompass the entire company. “I won’t object.”

Thus, everyone started talking, automatically eliminating anyone who said they believed me and ruling out the skeptic for being too skeptical. Dolores, Joanie, and the boy and his family were also ruled out. Eventually they decided on a farmer type who was torn between believing God would allow a phenomena like this to happen and that elementals were spawns of the devil and therefore unnatural. He was, however, hesitant to do much more than swipe his hand above my head and arms should the latter be the truth. When other men in the crowd cheered him to check elsewhere on my person, he was very respectful and his cheeks burned red.

When he cleared me as wire-free, I asked him to step to the side, starting up my cycle of moving strings where he had been standing. Stepping onto my strings, it took me a moment to find my balance, not having done this for a while. Once I found it, though, I was good to go, slowly weaving through the crowd where there was enough space, eventually flying to the top of the gazebo and sitting down on a now solid block of air. The little boy was out of his seat staring open-mouthed up at me. Everyone was staring open-mouthed, even Nick who—I had forgotten—had never seen me do anything but little tricks.

As I sat above them, I properly read the crowd. For the most part, they were convinced. Quite a few had questions, but I could take those individually. Floating slowly back down, I felt it was time to improvise an ending since I had pretty much improvised everything else.

“Elementals exist,” I started, smiling at how many people were nodding in consent, in belief. Even the gentleman who had checked for wires. “Through us, small miracles still happen, our existence becomes less of a burden on the environment, and people are helped. But it won’t last if we let the government have its way. We exist; we’re people, human; we deserve our rights, too. But it’s the efforts of everyone together that’s going to make a change possible,” I finished, looking around again. I couldn’t seem to remember why I had ever been nervous to begin with. “I’ll be here for a while yet, so feel free to ask questions.”

Nick was the last one I looked at before thanking the crowd and going to sit on one of the benches in the gazebo. He had been smiling, silently clapping for me. Seeing that made me feel so warm inside.

And the feeling didn’t stop there, either. Most of the people who came up to talk to me introduced themselves and commented on how I had been, or how amazing it was to see me fly, or tell me how they wanted to help in any way they could. Every time they asked my name, I answered with “Leirba,” staying true to Drei’s instructions.

Though the original speech was meant to awe and inspire and be longer and better organized, among other things, I felt I had found my niche. Caroline worked well with a prepared script; she liked to talk at people and have them listen. Me? Well, it seemed improvising with facts readily available afterwards was more my speed. I liked to talk to people, and connect in that fashion. If the feedback was any indication, that was how I was going to succeed.

Eternal: Chapter Nine, Part 6

Drei had chosen the exact location for this speech to be the gazebo where, on sunnier days, local musicians would showcase their talent and school bands would hold fundraisers. It was a huge, well-kept, white gazebo with intricate lattice work and was in a well shaded area. Nick and I arrived an hour before it was scheduled to begin. I had left behind my notebook and notes, not wanting to carry them with me. Though I had it memorized, I was beginning to feel nervous again, wishing I had brought it along after all.

“You’ll be great,” Nick insisted, squeezing my shoulder. “Remember, I’ll be in the audience, by that tree,” he added, pointing to a tall oak tree straight out from one of the entrances to the gazebo.

Touching his hand, soaking in the comfort it was trying to offer, I nodded, knowing he had to leave and show up after other people had, if anyone did. He would stay nearby should I need him, but we wanted to limit the number of faces directly related to our campaign for the time being.

He walked away, looking back once as if to assure me he would be under that tree before I started speaking. That I wasn’t some puppy he was going to leave by the side of the road and never return to. Not that I had been thinking that. Really. All right, maybe a little.

I sat, concentrating on breathing, relaxing until Nick’s cell phone alarm went off in my pocket—doubling as a reminder he had to return. As I breathed, I tried not to think if I was dressed appropriately in my blue jeans, long, loose-fitting blouse, and sweater jacket; I attempted to stop my brain from going through opinions whoever showed might already have of me, how I would work around that, and if I could at all. I wasn’t succeeding very well.

Slowly, my silence was infiltrated as the park started filling with people, some of them stopping to stare at me while others just stood around chatting. Focusing on the first words of my speech, I tried droning them out, forcing myself not to be concerned with their words

There was a soft buzzing in my back pocket. Pulling out the cell phone, I turned it off, exhaling slowly until there was no air in my lungs.

Show time.

Standing up, I faced the oak tree Nick had pointed out, surprised to see a good sized group of people before me. Some sat on picnic blankets, relaxing with friends; some had brought lawn chairs; others were standing under or leaning against trees. A shush fell across them like dominoes as the people closest to the gazebo noticed me there.

Part of me, the part scared senseless right then, wanted to walk down the steps and pretend I had just been waiting in the gazebo for the speaker. To let it end here with all of them disappointed, never to be bothered again.

Glancing around, my eyes caught Nick’s, and I knew I couldn’t let them down. Most of them had probably been avid listeners and followers of Caroline’s revolution when it had ended—indirectly my fault. They had been waiting for a change, craving one. I couldn’t reward their patience and devotion with more disappointment.

Swallowing, I stepped forward, forcing myself to calm down, at least on the surface. I wasn’t Caroline; I could draw attention, but I didn’t know how to command it as she did. The beginning she had written was what worked for her, but standing before all of these expectant people now, I knew it wasn’t what was going to work for me.

“Welcome,” I greeted, opening my arms to all of them. “That you’re here today means you’ve seen the commercials; you’ve visited the site; now you want to know more,” I started, risking looking around at everyone. My nerves were still going crazy but at least it wasn’t showing in my voice. Nick gave me a thumbs up. “For anyone who hasn’t read the literature on the site, allow me to summarize. There are people who look normal, have regular jobs, lead average lives, but are different. They can control one of the four elements: water, fire, earth, air.” I had thought I might do something to emphasize this point, but decided to leave the theatrics until someone asked. Right now, the message was the important part.

“As I said, they are regular people, just like everyone here, but a little different. Not different in a bad way,” I added, still on guard but starting to relax. It was hard reading just their expressions and I didn’t want to distract myself with reading their impressions just yet. The general feeling was patience, calm, and interest; doubt was only in a few spots. I’d see how that changed in a moment when I went into the heavy stuff. “Instead of treating people like this, like me, with the same respect as everyone one else, though, our government chooses to hunt us. To gather a special detail of people to search for us, find us, and take us into captivity for research to use our gifts, against our will, as a weapon. Gifts that are meant to be given to everyone to improve life, to assist us in coexisting with our environment; gifts that have been at work silently bringing change into our lives for centuries.

“But these gifts won’t be around forever,” I stated, feeling stronger, feeling empowered by finally saying what no one else would. There was no turning back after this moment; no one could erase spoken words, even if they managed to erase those written. “The elements endow us to benefit as many as possible, but that’s their only purpose. They won’t stand for being used as a weapon, or being misused in any way.” Saying this, I thought of Mom and knew she would be proud if she could be here—this was one of her lessons to me, after all. But I also sensed the increasing doubt among my listeners. This was the abstract part now, the part I’d have to back soon with proof. “Some of you may remember another revolution, aimed at the government. Everything that was the case then, is still the case now,” I said, beginning to talk more with my hands. “But this is a case of civil rights, one of many faults in a structure that is failing. Another omission in an ever growing list.”

No one had left yet, and no one had completely lost interest; even the doubters were still listening, still staring at me. Even as they grew more skeptical, something about whatever I was saying was rooting them here. I wasn’t sure what exactly, but I figured it didn’t matter so long as they kept listening.

“This blatant disregard of our rights as citizens—as human beings—breaks apart families, ruins relationships, forces all of us into hiding…until now. We refuse to stay silent any longer. We want to live peacefully and help where we can. To do that, we need all the help you can give.”