THE PAGES OF THE BOOK began to blow mid-air as though caught in a high wind, stopping halfway through the center page. It fluttered in the air, sending jets of sparkling glitters everywhere, then settled itself on the table in front of Andy. Mouth hanging open, he couldn't explain, even to himself, why he wasn't making a fuss. His anticipation was at its peak, but his expectations pitched down, looking at the empty page—with nothing to see but a brittle sheaf of ancient-old paper. The fact was that even though he knew the book was blank, he kept picking up and turning the pages as though it was a story he wanted to finish.
Slowly, his eyes parted with the book to look at Aunt Carol blankly as if he had been given a terrible joke. "It has nothing on it."
Then, Carol laughed a soft, girlish laugh. She pulled the book slightly towards her and ran her newly-manicured fingers on its rough and gritty texture. "Oh, it has. But it's not just any book like what you think. It's an old album consisting of photographs by the Crow family—generations after generations. But I want you to look away or at least cover your eyes first, dear nephew."
"But why?"
"Because in order to fully reveal its contents, it first needs to recognize the blood as being one of the members of the Crows," Carol said in a soft, silky voice. "I might need to cut myself to do so."
Andy's eyebrows knitted into a tight line. He was not afraid of blood, but the fact that his aunt needed to hurt herself was an unwelcoming idea. "Well, I don't think you should cut yourself that much," he said in a tone quite reprimanding, and Carol couldn't help but laugh. Andy pointed at the blue butterfly brooch pinned to the ribbon on her chest. "But maybe just a small prick can do."
"Right you are!" Carol smiled broadly, her face lighting with both realization and amazement. "How come I haven't thought of it. Silly me!" She unhooked the pin from the frilly ribbons of her dress and, with a swift movement that Andy hadn't caught how it was done, pricked her index finger, and a small pool of blood oozed from the tiny punctured hole of her skin. She let the blood drip and dropped a blot onto the open page of the album.
The blood shone brightly on the yellowing paper for a second and then vanished as though it was being sucked into the page. At last, something happened. Andy sat straight and leaned closer to the album, almost pressing his nose on the paper.
Oozing back out of the page were lines in various strokes turning into shapes as if someone from the inside was drawing a sketch using a charcoal pencil.
It was a moment or two before he registered the somehow familiar faces in the sketched photograph of a family of four. Beneath it, words were written in a neat cursive: The Crow Family: left to right, Mortimer, holding five-year-old Andrew, seven-year-old Carol, and Adeline.
With his attention caught, Andy examined the picture more carefully. Carol and Andrew's father, Mortimer, was a good-looking man with eyes that seemed to twinkle in this sketched photograph. The mother, Adeline, had jet black hair pulled into a high bun. Her face had a carved quality about it. Compared to the soft demeanor of her husband, she gave off a strong and daunting aura with her dark penetrating eyes, high cheekbones, and straight nose. Young Carol shared the same playful and carefree look like her father, her eyes disappearing from her bright smile. She dressed so fancily as ever, wearing her high-necked ball dress and beaded pearls sticking into her twin-braided hair. Meanwhile, the young version of his dad, Andrew Crow, had surprised him the most. It wasn't with the way he was dressed in a lacy collared jacket and shoulder-length hair; it was how his utter displeasure was written over his face—lips curled, obsidian eyes hooded out of boredom, and crossed over his chest.
"I-Is this really dad?" He pointed at the sketch of his dad's young version, disbelieving. As Andy had known him, Andrew Crow was a jolly man with a knack for silly jokes. As his mom called him, he was the family's clown, a mood lifter.
Carol laughed, for she quite understood her nephew's bewilderment. Indeed, being away from Hearthstone, living among the Non-Holders, meeting Emilia Thomas spun a new change for Andrew Crow. But that was a separate story, and it was not hers to tell.
"We were kids who enjoyed what a perfect childhood has to offer," Carol said as her fingers skimmed over the image, caressing a distant memory. "One was carefree and fond of adventures. The other, serious and timid, with the mind of an adult."
While curious and excited, Andy straightened up and scooted closer over to her. "Are you the carefree one, Aunt Carol?"
She patted Andy's nose with so much fondness. "Right you are, dear. Right you are. And Andrew, your father, was very much like you when he was young. By then, I was convinced that it was destiny that he and his wife got you as their son.
"He was righteous and ambitious. He was all about leading and making things happen the way he wanted, which was an attribute he had taken so much from our mother. Our parents, Mortimer and Adeline Crow were part of The Ember Council, the pillar and foundation of Hearthstone since its establishment. Andrew would usually ignore the calls of fellow children and was always to be seen tailing our parents. In every meeting, he would wait and stand by outside the main hall's doors with failed attempts to peep through the keyhole, which was for sure enchanted so no one could try to eavesdrop. But I have always known him to be strong-willed and determined. He said he would never give up until the leaders grant him entry."
"And what about you, Aunt Carol?"
Carol laughed heartily. "Oh, you can find me everywhere—running around the square, playing with other kids, sneaking into the lake near the forest of Verfair Timberland despite the adults' strict warnings, or striking conversations at random strangers in the market. If your dad were as neat and polished as your school shoes, I, on the other hand, would be covered in soot and mud. "
"Wow," he whispered, looking at her the same way he looked at displays in their yearly science fair. As Carol recounted her joyful childhood, a brief image of Elsie surfaced in his mind, which he quickly warded off with a rapid shaking of his head.
"A bright, timely day, isn't it? But you see, I was caught up in that moment that I never thought that things would soon end. Before I knew it, we were asked to leave that very home." There wasn't any shine when she smiled. It was like a plastic doll, eyes in a daze, distant. "I was a woman who blossomed at the age of 22 and your dad, a man he long dreamed of becoming, at the age of 20 when Chief Rainwater came banging on our door, asking us to leave immediately."
The air was thick and heavy as Carol took three consecutive breaths for a while. The only noise to fill the gaping silence was the steady drone of the neighbor's lawnmower.
"W-Why would he do that? That's not fair!" Andy said when he found the voice to speak.
Snapping out of her thought, Carol said, "Now, before you jump to conclusions, the Rainwaters are a friend of ours. I forgot to tell you that our parents and our ancestors before them were more than just a part of the council that established the village's laws. We are one of the three prominent families—the Rainwaters, the Crows, and the Keepers."
The last word came as a hiss and a snarl, and Andy felt as if an invisible hand, slender and cold, curled around his neck like a snake. He saw Hocus bared his fangs in the corner of his eyes, back hunched, and fur stood on end.
"Unsurprisingly," Carol went on, "the Rainwaters finally sought the villagers' hearts and stood on top as Hearthstone's newly-hailed leaders. The Crows, being such longtime friends with them, supported their reign wholeheartedly. But remember Andy—" Her voice dropped down into a whisper "—in every great thing we achieve, there are those who will never truly be happy, who will never come to accept how much we've grown, how much we're better. It's the bitter fact that we must swallow, and in your change, I want you to truly understand how power and envy can cause pain and destruction."
Andy bobbed his head eagerly even though he barely understood a thing. It was easy to know every meaning of each word, but if she was to speak vaguely to a kid who was yet to see the world's reality, life could only teach him of its meaning, for books could offer no more than just theoretical knowledge.
"The Keepers?" he asked in the same careful and silent tone his aunt used.
"Yes!" she whisper-yelled. "You see, the Keepers ruled over Hearthstone for decades, and it was much to their dismay that someone had stolen—is what I think the term they made themselves believe—something that was meant for them. So what other ways to get their claim to the position back other than to destroy their rival. And how they planned to start such an evil scheme was to start with the Rainwaters pillars and support—the Crows. We've been warned, yes, but that was before we suffered any more loss."
There was a drawn-out silence before Andy gasped audibly. Indeed, he had an idea where this story would lead. Carol's eyes turned glassy with unshed tears. She quickly looked away and, with trembling hands, guided the cup towards her pale lips, then drank. He heard scuttles everywhere, of movements upon the leaves. In no time, all six of Aunt Carol's cats surrounded them. Jinx leaped into Carol's lap and Fortune into him. The rest, Hocus, Pocus, Charm, and Lucky, occupied the vacant chairs and the top of the table. Carol smiled tenderly at the sign of support, but it didn't ease the shaking of her hands and the uneven voice when she spoke next.
"The news of Mortimer and Adeline Crow's disappearance spread far and wide from Hearthstone to the neighboring villages over a fortnight. And so one day, as we waited tirelessly for good news, Chief Rainwater came knocking on our solemn abode, bringing with him a speculation that the next target would be my brother and me. We don't speak of it; we only seethe in silence. Deep inside, both families know who's responsible for the untimely threat, but unfortunately, none of us had proof. And so we had to leave.
"As long as our families stand together, none can break us. Not even the most feared and wickedly evil family in Hearthstone. Of course, the Rainwaters had to stay, for they wouldn't let the Keepers take over. But the Crows had to flee, our distant relatives scattered across the globe. Rainwaters offer us protection as long as the house we live in stays connected to our world. Hence, it explains the portal chimney in my house, dear nephew." Carol, who seemed able to pull herself together finally, wiped any stray amount of tears in her eyes. Then she added in a light, casual tone. "Which makes me think, do you have any possessions that your parents don't want you to take off?"
"Oh," said Andy. "The necklace?"
Carol frowned at the mention of the necklace and tried to search for it around Andy's neck. "I don't see any necklace with you."
"I-I don't wear it. I think it's silly and old-fashioned."
"S-Silly? Old-fashioned!" Carol sputtered and reached for Andy's ear in no time, tugging it. Andy could do nothing but resort to whines of protest. The moment he was freed of her clutches, he was rubbing his slightly reddening ears, avoiding the piercing glare of his Aunt Carol. Around them, the cats were snickering, not bothering to hide it, which made him pout.
"Well, now you know it's for your protection, better wear it from now on!"
Desperate for the matter to go away, he merely nodded, and to better deviate the subject, Andy must say something else.
"If you're supposed to be away from Hearthstone, why do you need to keep the portal open?"
"Of course, so that I can go back! From time to time, I am having a meeting with the Rainwaters' head of the family. We never cut our communication. We can't be at ease even if the Keepers were alleged to have disappeared from the face of Emerraine."
"But—"
"Enough with that." Carol cut him off and smiled, her brows moving up and down. "What sort of things had my nephew done in Hearthstone? Finally got proof that magic is not just the mind's work?"
Knowing he wouldn't get out of this without a word, Andy recounted the stories of their journey, all the time seeming to lie upon him like a frost. When he had finished telling her everything, Carol looked appalled but downright terrified.
"I can't say that I approve of you going on that unsupervised mission. The cloud, the mysterious disappearance of the Keeper and their house above the hill... it's all tied up." Then with a stern look upon her face, she added, "I've got to make sure of informing the Chief of his daughter's trickery."
"No!" he screamed and stood in a hurry. The chair made a scraping noise and fell back.
"Excuse me?"
"Her father— he... he might hurt Elsie." Pain shot around Andy's little finger. It was surprisingly scorching and tingling. He rubbed soothingly around the area and suppressed the urge to wince. It may feel uncomfortable, but the pain was bearable enough to hide it from his aunt. And soon enough, the horrible sensation faded, and he tried to push back his worries to the recesses of his mind until he remembered that it was the exact spot where the binding string of the Autumn's Flower—the promise they sealed—coiled itself.
What was it again? That promise they made? It had already faded from his memory along with the betrayal of his first considered friend.
"You care about her." Andy's head shot up to look at his aunt, staring at him intently. He only noticed by then that he had been glaring down at his fingers, and he had a nagging suspicion that his aunt had an idea on the matter as her gaze darted from him to his fisted hands.
"N-No..." He shook his head weakly. "No. I'm not."
The sun, he noticed, was so high up in the sky that it shone its golden rays in the entirety of the garden. While the plants and small animals celebrated, Andy wanted nothing but to be out of the growing heat as more hours passed. How long had they been in the garden? He lost track of time.
"It's not a question." She shot her brows up, then sighed. "I can't say that the pain you feel is invalid. There's a lot more that you should know as you grow up.
"Betrayal will always be one of the worst things when done by a friend. But how much does it affect you that, on a whim, you have acted rashly? That you haven't allowed that person to explain her side?
"Listening does not require forgiveness, Andy. But even listening may require strength one might not imagine. She has done you wrong, and she has to earn your trust back. But give her the privilege to be listened to. She will initiate it without you telling her... if she really wants it. And you—" she lightly poked him on the chest "—getting hurt that much shows how you value the friendship formed in that short amount of time."
For the second time that day (or was it correct to say since he left Emerraine?) Andy felt the binding string pulse invisibly beneath his skin. But instead of feeling pain from the immense burning, it was warm, gentle, and soothing. In a flickering moment, it pulsed into view and then gone again. Then, he thought of her.
"Should I go back," said Andy before he could stop himself.
Carol stood up, breathing in deeply the smell of fresh-cut grass and the savory barbecue being grilled from the next-door neighbor's backyard.
"I'm giving you my blessing to do so." Then she marched off towards the backdoor of the house. The six cats lined up after her. It was a funny sight, like a strange parade. Andy thought he heard mutter something between barbecues and burgers. Then she waved at him without looking back. "And don't tell your father yet over the phone! He might anger him, and we might not be spending the rest of the summer anymore!"
WHATEVER HAD GOTTEN to him might have damaged his sanity. The very first time his foot touched Emerraine's soil, he had done everything there was—his bravery and guts tested—to be able to get home. But now that he was home, he would set off towards the place he escaped from.
Really, Andy? Are we going to see Elsie again? Chip bounced excitedly beside him, tongue lolling, but he could perfectly hear him inside his head.
"Hmm," he hummed in reply, nodding once. Equipped with the things he thoughtfully gathered that afternoon, stored inside his ever-trusty schoolbag, Andy faced the weathered stone chimney of his aunt. His aunt's words that morning kept repeating inside his head, and it didn't take him long to come up with a decision.
I, Elsie Rainwater, swear to protect you and be your friend for all of our lifetime.
Andy clutched the strap of his bag tightly and whispered to himself, "You better keep that promise, Elsie."
Chip made a run for it, leaped inside the chimney box, and disappeared as the emerald green flame consumed him. Then, with braveness and determination to start everything between them again, Andy followed, the fire swallowing him with a warm welcome, and the Outlander had set off again with the new mission to restore friendship.