2 Eight Hundred Year Curse

Concealed in a grove of dark withering trees,  two figures waited.

Their hushed whispers lost in the soft  crisp rustle of the wind-stirred leaves.

" My lord, I have almost forgotten how brilliant the moon is. "

" I know, Charon." he said with a shade of sadness in his tone. "Since we are allowed only rare views since the curse began... So I too drink it in." He sighed then looked up the sky and felt the memories come though.

"How many years has to been since we last seen the Earth?"

"Too many," he said, more than a hint of bitterness in his tone.

They waited, not ten paces away from the flat side of a massive boulder. Beyond that,  the silver moonlight shone down on a clearing framed by the thick fog. It was a haunting view of their glorious fields, now in ruins.

Suddenly, the sheer face of the stone radiated a dazzling blue light.  The two crouched lower between the ashen trees.  Charon raised his staff ready for combat.

"Hold," whispered the God. "If that is my brother, we are done"

The wall of the stone rippled like a virtual splash flow of water. It began to pulse and bulge as if the stone had turned into some elastic fabric or web. 

Something was struggling to break out.

Neither God nor servant breathed as a hand broke through,  then forearms and a torso. But the light intensified,  making it almost impossible to see beyond the form's black silhouette.

The portal snapped shut, just a boulder once more.  They couldn't see much of anything as their eyes readjusted to the moonlight.

"My lord... Should I—?"

"Charon, stand your ground," the God said,  finally being able to heave a relieved sigh to have given that order.  He strode forward from the cover of the crisp and dark trees toward a male draped in a heavy looking cloak. His servant followed close behind.

"Lanse, what have you learned?" he asked.

"She is on Earth," he replied.

"Can you be certain?" he asked for confirmation.

He removed his hood, shook out his ashen blonde hair— silver on the moonlight— and nodded.  "There can be no doubt. I felt the tremors among the humans."

"I cannot believe it... Lydia told us the truth," said the God. "I will personally go to Earth while the others gather. At last, some hope—"

"It will not be easy," Lanse interrupted. "She appears to apparently lost her memories and she is within a place that seems to be scattered with the supernatural."

The expression of the God darkened when the statement was said.

"Among how many?" he asked.

"Thousands," he replied as he bowed while staring at his feet.

The servant was thunderstruck.

"Thousands?" Charon gasped. "But that would be like—"

"Leading straight to war." the God said calmly—thinking.

"And that is not the worst of it." Lanse said. "The enemies are there and I found her being attacked yesterday but luckily saving her."

"Then he knows," said the God. "Lydia thought as much. Lanse,  thank you for saving my beloved but please prepare the others for the incoming battle. You must not let the enemy further attack her. Do whatever is necessary."

"I understand," he replied. "The humans and the supernatural there have weapons and such. "

"Good," he said. "Their weapons won't match the quality you're used to. Do what you can. But no matter what, you must continue to blend in."

Lanse replaced the hood of his cloak and turned towards the portal.  "If our race has become skilled at anything these bitter, long years, it's hiding. Plus, what can kill the God of Death and the Underworld?"

"And Lanse?" he heard the urgent questioning in his comrades voice and turned. "We must not fail."

Lanse crossed his wrists and bowed. "We will not. Victory and Death."

"Victory and Love."

While they end their conversation, Agatha still thought of her savior in the dream, he looked quite familiar, like someone from the past. But she just shrugged at how a dream can be so realistic.

She felt the pain of the cuts and the ringing in her ears at the shouting of the feral men, and how they turned into actual werewolves. She hasn't seen one in like forever.

It somewhat made her more curious if the supernatural was real. If her 'dream' was the actual reality.

It was Saturday so she didn't have school or anything to do.

It was boring.

She thought that maybe some thrill can make her happy. She didn't exactly have many friends. Just one.

And her name was Lydia Roselyn Scallion. She was a remarkable girl. She was fierce, beautiful and sassy. No one could really approach her because of her intimidating aura but that didn't stop her increasing popularity among boys and men. She was happy that Lydia was her friend, she was there will her through thick and thin. She thought that she might practically be her long lost sister.

She loved her as family. Agatha had parents that cared more about their work that their own flesh and blood. They were rich but always had no time.

She was alone.

She felt lonely even with Lydia. She felt like something was missing. A missing piece to her incomplete puzzle. She slowly closed her eyes as she stood near the counter in the kitchen while savoring the rich smell of coffee. She was lost again on her mind but her thoughts were cut short when the ringing of her phone interrupted. She picked it up when she saw it was Lydia.

'Hey, wanna hang out today?' Lydia asked through the phone.

"Sure, but what are we going to do?"

'Are you up for shopping at the mall?' she asked.

And did she mention that Lydia was a shopaholic? Cause she is. And she'll literally shop till she drops and that takes more than a single hour, and if you offer to buy something for her, she'll ask for something really, really expensive. Like a dress for 2000? Pants for like 3500? And a watch for more than 10,000? She'll waste her black card for those.

"Fine, so let's meet up at 1?"