CHARIOTS OF TIME
PROLOGUE
Metallic cobalt colorings flitted out of the sky as the sun`s rays streamed directly into my bedroom. There was a stillness in the air, emaciating peace but my mind will not enjoy the calamity as I was still muddled from the sharpened dreams that haunted me from the night before. Despite laying my body to a full nine hours of sleep, I awakened to a burdening fatigue that felt as though I was stampeded upon by a team of horses. My test tightened, restricting my now already ragged breathing but I stretched out my hands, hoping that the mock indolence would send my brain a message that all was well. Who was I kidding? This was the life that was presented to me and for now all I had were emotions that rioted against common sense of my well-being. The beauty of nature winked naughtily from the sky and that should have given me at least one tiny reason to smile but I was too wired from my dreams to even enjoy such basic free of charge pleasure. The demons that stowed away into my inner sanctum and in a forum of mayhem they taunted me no mercy and left me woven in knots of despair. Physical beating would have been kinder but now as my mind straddled with despair to reach into my memory, the dream that plagued me was lost forever. Somehow deep in the crevices of my wandering cognizance, I knew that it was something important and yet I failed to store it in my memory. That was definitely going to come back and bite me in the rear. Reluctantly I rose from my comforting bed, yawning and rubbing my eyes profusely. Nowadays I cared nothing that I walked around with eyes that were bathed in blood. You could say that I no longer lived but existed only to waste the fumes of oxygen. Thinking about this drove me into a depression and I headed straight into the communal shower. I say communal not because I reside in a hostel but because my parents were kind enough to invite me back to my old room because they were concerned about my safety. Putting you into the picture of a frame that is barren of happiness, I am no ordinary girl. I was born with a curse that was passed to me from my paternal grandmother. It was just a stroke of bad luck that my father did not have a sister and therefore a generation was missed only to fall into my helpless lap. The hot water felt smooth, hot and invigorating as it cascaded down my slender body. I scoffed at the word slender because while my clothing complimented me, it was the mirror that spoke no lies. I was just brittle bones covered in white skin. It was not as though I did not want to thrive and feel healthy, it was my mind that surfed through trouble waters. I rinsed off the scented shower gel, dried myself and dressed up eagerly. The aromas from the kitchen wafter through the entire house and seeing that it was Sunday morning, mom was making blueberry pancakes, bacon, eggs and cheese scones. It was the coffee that assaulted my tummy with a flash of nausea, but I was determined this morning that I was going to ply and stuff my mouth to the fullest. My stomach growled as the pancake aroma smacked me on the face. Running a brush through my hair and putting my reddish-brown mane in a ponytail, I was ready to satisfy my gut. It was just the strangest moment that swept over me. My body chose to shut down and alienate the temptations that the food offered. My feet hastened in step as I headed in the direction of the attic. Wasting no time, I lowered the staircase and rushed upstairs. The wafting of the aromatic pancakes and maple syrup vanished from the vapor of my smell. I was on a mission, and I stepped into the attic; the attic being my haven, my salvation and my grandmother`s entire life`s work. The attic was pin neat, the secrets hidden away for decades and now it was my space. I never asked for this intervention to stunt my life, but I could not ignore it, nor could I turn my back on this my heritage. My grandmother was the closest person that understood exactly this carriage of burden that I galloped through life with but now that she was gone, I had become the guardian of this destiny that would be carried through many generations. I had this tug at my heart and an immense ache in my chest. I sucked at relationships and if I did not procreate then this lineage of greatness dies with me. My parents, bless them have been so supportive, more especially my dad but as of late he too started having reservations about my craft. Who could blame him because right up until two months I was a walking mess. The dreams were getting increasingly strenuous but at least my suicidal thoughts were gone. Most people had assumed that I was a junkie but the only drug in my system was the plague of dreams that had made me high on craziness. The cauldron lay in the middle of the room; in all her glory she beckoned me. The dark pot was empty because I had promised my parents never to alight it`s magic. Here now it called me; summoned me and I was mesmerized by its awakening. My eyes blinked; I squinted at the audacity that was staring right back at me. This was sheer madness and a spark of my imagination. There was no way in sweet heaven that the fog that was pushing forward was real. I wanted to call out to my mom and my dad, but my lips were glued over each other. Even my baby sister`s name was squashed, playing hide and seek in my throat. This sublime imagination of mine was blooming to sights that never in my wildest dreams that I would have ever thought would come this close. I was moving close, whispering incantations were blowing my ear drums to smithereens. In the distant my name was being called out. I extended my right hand as though reaching for someone and my fingers brushed against a poltergeist that belonged in my head. I could not be so lost into my own world that I could conjure up an apparition. Then I saw him boldly reaching for my hand; agony painted over his face as he was beckoning me. This was not right as my feet held no respect for my wishes and was pushing towards the cauldron. The cauldron was sending weaves of messages as she coughed up a mountain of fog. Surely, I had to be delirious. I slapped my face with both my hands, closed my eyes for few seconds and then opened them up again. This is a dream, I chanted out the sanctimonious words over and over again. My feet hastened to curiosity and eventually I was right there at the over boiling cauldron. This was a freak show and now I was convinced that I was finally over the edge as far as my mental health was concerned.
"Wake up Athena," I spoke out the words in earnest; desperation bugging me, but I had to own up to the fact that a frisson of unexpected excitement was bowling me over for a sixer. This was unlike any dream I had ever experienced. Sure enough, this was some scary level of BS, but it was exciting and entertaining. My dreams had always rendered me in weeping, cold sweat because of the potency of bleak blackness it exuded but now this was the revelation that I had been unknowingly anticipating. I braved myself a peak into the bubbling pot and then just like that the smoke dissipated, giving me a full view of clear water. My reflection had awakened from a slumber of indifference, and I was presented with a woman that was no longer gaunt but voluptuous, empowering and confident. She was me but with a difference in personality that I could not help but marvel at. I was awestruck as water will only reflect my peering face. Yet, there she was, my doppelganger. I knew that it was not my face that I was looking at because while she was my face to the point of every single cell, her hair was different and the smidges of clothing I looked at were differed to the ones that I was wearing. She smiled and then her beam dulled as her eyes just like my deep emerald ones dulled to despair.
"Grams." I whispered, totally taking a shot in the dark. She shook her head in a spin off negativity. So not grams. Her reflection was fading and as she was melting away, she motioned me to join her. I was not afraid, but I needed to document this. Too late as the time was not my friend. The portal to another domain was closing fast and if I did not take action, I was going to lose my opportunity. My doppelganger was relying on my help and therefore she came personally to invite me. The wimpy coward in me was dying and subconsciously, without meticulous thought nor did I survey the situation, lifted my right leg which outweighed my left leg in strength and climbed into the pot which had multiplied in size. As my other leg followed in hot pursuit, my body became jelly in comparison to a tad pole. This was me. This was me Athena Kiara Jacobs; a born coward only to submerge into the warmth of the cauldron as a brave warrior. That was all I remembered as I was sucked into the big black pot.
CHAPTER ONE
The warmth fizzled in just ominous seconds as my skin felt as though it would tear from the fragments of ice chips. I was fighting the rough water, paddling my hands as fast as I could but I knew that I was drowning. The cauldron was gone, and I was paddling through bigger dimension; for this I was quite certain. What had happened? Wake up Athena! The oxygen in my brain did not diminish as yet. I was a swimmer; not a strong one but I could maneuver my way through water and yet here I was holding onto to hope that I would be saved. My reserves were lowering, and I could feel death impeaching to my soul, ready to grab me and carry me home. This was not what I wanted, and it was a harsh way to go. The few seconds I had left would have me think of my parents, Brandon and June Jacobs. My adorable little sister Magdalene Jacobs. All of them were my blessings and we had fought so tirelessly for me to come back and here I am in the throes of death. I was so cold, so empty and void of hope. I surrendered in peace as I felt the last of my oxygen leaving me. I was being dragged and my last thoughts were of how sad this ending had become. This is what death felt. The light being snuffed out forever and final and then nothing. As my eyes succumbed to the palace of darkness, feint whispers could be heard or perhaps I was having after death mind games. Whatever it was, it had stopped completely and that is when I knew it was game over for me.
My body ached a pain so bad that I felt my bones had been shattered. I was no longer icy cold, and a shower of warmth had wrapped itself around my tired body. This was what heaven felt like. All warm and inviting. I moaned out my appreciation and then I groaned out the pain on my arms. I attributed the sore arms to all the paddling that I had done and even then, there was no glory to all that sacrifice. I had still died despite my tedious efforts. I stretched out my body and heard the crack of my bones. That felt good and while my eyes were still closed, felt the luxury of a woolen blanket. It was like nothing that I had ever enclosed over me. Warm, comforting and luxurious to the touch. Sincerely I was in heaven and while I will miss my earth life, this was the most comfortable and safe that I had ever felt. I heard the groan of a door open, but I kept my eyes shut completely.
"Oh good, you are awake." Not so much a booming voice; definitely female but there was a vortex in her larynx that gave her a voice that scratched without tune. I wondered if she was an angel. Probably because with my eyes still shut, she was made aware that I was very much awake. I opened my eyes to a massive room and once fully into adjusting, I realized that I was stark naked under the fur blankets. The gruff voice belonged to an older lady that wore a grey pinafore, with a super white apron tied around her waist. A darker grey bonnet covered her hair as grey strands trickled at the sides. She was no angel; instead, she was a maid. I was confused. Where their maids in heaven? That was a huge bummer for me because the illusion that I had harbored about heaven was a far cry from the first impressions that I was receiving. Just upon cue, I felt my kidneys squeeze and give me a reminder that my bladder was full. Damn and damn; this was getting more surreal as my fantasy was breaking down into quick bits. Heaven was not at all as I had envisioned it; conjuring up a fantastical garden of luxury and laziness was what I had seen in my mind. This was totally different and then to seal the deal my stomach cried out in shame begging for sustenance. What? In heaven hunger pangs were a thing. This was just not on for me. I rose from the bed and quickly grabbed onto the covering to cover up my now exposed and naked breasts. Where was my white robe with the golden threaded tie up. Apparently, I was sent to the wrong department. I cleared my throat to get the attention of the housekeeper who was busy cleaning up the room.
"Loo," it was barely a whisper that I could muster. Not because I was afraid, but I had lost my able vocal cords. Then I remembered how I had surrendered to my death. It made sense. Despite the fact that I was soft in tones, the housekeeper looked up. I got a clear look at her face. Just like her tone, her face creased to a frown of hardness. She lacked the ability to smile or even fake a smile. There were no striking glimmers of an once beauty because she mimicked the tough skeletal exterior of a manly counterpart. I offered a weak smile but got no reciprocation of compassion or encouragement. The call of nature was nagging and harried so I was left with no other choice. "I need a toilet." This time I was equitably vocal, but she looked at me with a blank expression. Seriously this could never be heaven. The one face that I was introduced to already was maimed with unkindness. I needed a toilet like yesterday, and I did not know how to converse with this older woman. "Lavatory." That was the strangest word that I had ever used, and I was not sure where deep in my brain did, I dish out that word. It worked because she nodded her head in understanding. In a few seconds she retrieved a metal pail from the corner of the room and placed it by the side of the bed.
"Humph" was a congealed sound she made as she motioned my attention to the bucket. This could not be truly the lavatory. Could it?
"I don't think that you understand," I began to find my voice again. I was stuck but I was trying hard as my bladder pushed hard against my tummy. "I need to pee." She was not understanding me but kept on pointing at the pale. I guess arguing and trying to explain my state was expendable because the old lady left the room with abrupt rudeness. It was the bucket or nothing. I was left with no choice and no clothing, so I did my deed and got back into bed. When the older woman came back, I would ask her about my clothing. Despite the fact that a fire burned in the corner of the room there was a bite in the end. I looked towards the window and realized that it was left open. The set up in the room looked as though it fell out of an old fairy tale book set in another century. I was still my whole self, breathing and when I pinched myself, I yelped. This was not heaven, and I was afraid that I was lost. My mouth felt funny and in dire need of some toothpaste and boredom was having me curse from the bed. The blanket that was so inviting turned out to be a skin of some animals. I looked up to find no fixtures to house electrical globes. The walls were stone, and I was assuming that I was in another Storey because the windows felt high.
"Damn and damnation!" I cussed out aloud, jumping off the bed and scooping the make-believe blanket to cover my naked self. I went straight in the direction of the window. Hold and behold I was in an upper storey. It was not just the complexities of my accommodation that had me wide eyed; it was the illustrative surroundings that clocked my eyes to a moment of serenity. It was pastoral and if I was not witnessing this scenario for myself, I would say that I was in a very tidy dream. Everyone associated with me knew that my dreams were never colorful and exciting. I only dreamt of the damned and the suffering. The children outside played, running around freely and making as much happy noise that they could summon out of the gleeful chests. It was a serene atmosphere, but I was most perturbed by the dress code. Everything looked rustic and old fashioned. I heard the squeak of the door, but I did not turn back because I was still in awe of my surroundings. The meadow looked so inviting for me to just bathe in the sun.
"Your lunch child." The same gruff, unpolished tones impolitely disturbed my ambience. My stomach traitorously growled but the aroma was too good to turn down. Instead, I politely asked,
"Where are my garments?" I felt irritably strange, and I did not understand why my way of speaking had changed. Garments instead of clothes was not the way I spoke but as the word rolled off my tongue, I was feeling less misguided. The lady stared hard at me; her deep watery grey eyes penetrating me as though they were lasers ready to burn right through me.
"Eat first." The command was aggressive, and I sat on the edge of the bed. "Take a bath and then you will be ready to meet the master." That was quite a mouthful to swallow and now I was convinced that perhaps this was the afterlife; just not the way I had envisioned it. I obeyed and got stuck into my meal. Never did I enjoy something so simple and extremely delicious. The chicken melted in my mouth and the vegetables flaunted morning freshness. The bread was crusty and homemade. It was perfect and once I was done, I helped myself to a cool mug of water. The utensils and the cutlery were strange and seemed outdated. Almost old fashion but my stomach was not arguing. The old maid took away my empty plates and the rest of the dishes. She returned with two men carrying a wooden trough and a few women with wooden pails of steaming water. It was emptied in the trough. I guess that I was immune to surprises because this was definitely a place on its own. Perhaps it was a similar clan to the Amish society. Each to his own and I was in no position to wear any judgment on my shoulder like a cheap handbag. I was relieved to slip into the trough and enjoy the warm bath that smelled oddly of eucalyptus. Once I was done, I dried myself of with a cloth and even though it was not my clothing nor my choice, I was just grateful to be covered once more. The dress was almost sweeping the floor and the grey fabric did nothing for my racy red hair. I pulled my lips to contort to a sardonic twist as I walked right back to the window. Silver linings that the pale had been removed and the scent of urine was no longer apparent in the room. As I stared at the beauty that met my eyes, I could not help but envy the people that homed themselves in this area. It was quaint, rustic, simple and charming. The door opened again, accompanied by the same squeak that I was getting oddly accustomed to. The maid was back and this time she addressed me accordingly.
"Master would be coming right now. Present yourself to him with a curtsy." Now this did take me astray and I wondered what year these inhabitants of the backward living in. were Hello, whatever happened to emancipation and liberation. It then occurred to me that I should ask the obvious, only for clarification.
"What year is this?"
"Why my dear, it is the year of 1820." The response was not given by the maid, but a lusty male voice replied. My eyes flew to the entrance of the door and there he graced the ancient frame with a might of superlative grace. Handsome, dashing, sexy as the devil himself or perhaps he was God himself. Then it clicked in my memory bank. While my dreams were haunted in icy cold misery, I could never remember it when I was awake. All I knew that the cold sweat had my heart accelerating each and every time. I swallowed as recognition flooded me, almost drowning me into a real death.
"It is you!" My exclamation was a power point of fear, excitement, enthrallment all rolled in one. I felt lightheaded and my balance became unstable. I was definitely swooning.
CHAPTER TWO
As luck would have its way, my body never hit the floor. In just a trite second the devilishly handsome dude was at my side to scoop me into his stout and welcoming arms. I regained my consciousness almost immediately and as my garden green eyes clashed with his coal black eyes a spark of fire raced across. It was destiny. It was fate.
"1820." I exploded while still in the capture of his arms. "Are you kidding me right now?" He had a calamity about him but the moment I allowed for my emotions to erupt, a darkness hovered around his lids, emanating a deep pain.
"It is you, but it is not you." He had this wild look of confusion caressing his fine features. An aristocratic nose, cold but poignant diamond flaming eyes. His stature would be regarded well in association with a Greek God. I was ploughed by this enchanted actuality that I was living and just like that the entire contents of my life came tumbling into my head as my memories were alive. I had fallen into a black pot that led me to a deep river that almost eaten me to the demise of death. Instead, I had time travelled but who was going to believe that this crazy malarkey was an actual event. He was staring hard at me; this man that plagued my dreams for over 12 months. It was the very same person that had me going crazy to almost a state of being suicidal. He had needed me so badly that he had almost had me in my very own grave of hell.
"Who are you?" I knew that it was a rhetoric question because deep down I knew that we were destined to meet. This connection that enveloped me drew out feelings of compassion inside of me. I was melting for this stranger because I knew that he was awaiting me because he needed me. He had summoned me, and my biggest fear was that I hoped that I would never disappoint me. I was locked in his gaze, and I never even noticed that we left alone. "Gabrelle? Tell me that it is you." He placed me on the bed and the magic was gone when he called me another name. He turned his back. "No!" Adamance was spat out, polluting the first impression that he could not make. "You can never be Elle. I watched you…I watched her." I held onto his words, waiting for him to finish off his sentence but he dropped his hands limply to his sides and walked to the window. I wanted to follow him but my place here was so unfamiliar. I got up and stood on my two feet, grateful that they were no longer on wobbly ground.
"Gabrelle." I spoke out the name that was alien to me but yet it rolled off my lips like sweet balm on a cool day. It held a familiarity that was on the borders of senile and ridiculous. He had heard me awake and turned to me.
"You dare call her name, you impostor." His thunder was echoed throughout the room. "Do you know the penalty for a saliva lined tongue that screeches lie?" I was thrown aback. The dreams came streaming in. He was calling out to me, and he was desperate for my help and yet now he was accusing me of lies. "I will have your head on a guillotine girl. Showing up in my lake and pretending to be someone that you are not." He took a pause to give me the once over. I should be afraid, but my gut was telling me differently. "You look like her, but you are two different. Tell me girl what enchantress this to you did so that you can come into my lake and take on the face of Gabrelle?"
Well, I had just about much that I could take from this chauvinistic wannabe to take on his nonsense. "Look Mister," I pointed my finger at him, and it was then I actually saw him in a new light. The clothing that he was wearing was mostly lace and frills. It was hilarious and without giving it a thought I burst into a torrent of laughter. So much for telling him a mouthful. His nose wrinkled and his eyes brows raised, he was clearly annoyed at me for laughing out at him and pointing a finger.
"You dare laugh at me," his eyes were dangerously smoldering on the edge of fierce intensity. Still there was no linger of fear within me. It was just laughable that I got stuck in the 18th century. This was utter and total madness. My parents were probably going frantic or worse they thought that I had run off again in a fit of madness.
"Look Mister," clearly, I intended to put this rubbish out of my mind and find the easiest way to get out of this godforsaken century. "I don't know what kind of game that you are playing. 1820." I scoffed. It was just unbelievable. This was just a figment and a trick of my imagination. Perhaps I was still stuck in one of my unruly nightmares. "I am going home." My declaration got a raise from his damning shaped eyebrows. Everything about this person was just so perfect. I could not help but wonder about the genetics that he had.
"That is a fine idea." He was prim and proper as he spoke up. "I will have one of my horsemen accompany you back to your home." I had to take a step back in the transformation of his attitude. "Where exactly are you from?"
He was trying to make me a stupid, but I answered. "Nottingham." I was clear and precise. His mood seems to have changed almost immediately from kindness to a darkening ball of thunder.
"You dare sass me girl." I was flabbergasted at his behavior. How dare he treat me with such hostility. "I am no longer patient with you." He declared abruptly. "You will tell me who sent you here and you will tell me the sorcerer that gave you the same face as Gabrelle St. James."
"St. James you say." My flourishing confidence went numb as my memory was transported into the deep canal that led to a cave of unimportant history. Only today it would be the mark of something important that was stored away. "I know that name." Excitement drilled a thrill inside of me. Perhaps this was no time to clown around. I turned to my sexy companion and looked at him with intent focus.
"Seriously what year is this."
He became annoyed with me. "I have told you already Lass, it is 1822."
"That would make Ella St. James my great great great grandmother`s sister." It sounded ridiculous but for now that was all I had left.
"You make no sense foolish girl. It would be wise of you to take a rest and when I return, I will requiring adequate answers." Before I could say anything else, he turned on his heel and I do mean heel and stormed out of the room.