Spellbinder Notes (Day 5)

Species (according to Ursa):

5) Shadows:

- Shadows are entities made of raw power

- There are only 2 of each type of shadow (male and female)

- Only those who come from species that predate the "New Gods" can see them

o Ursa says only the Quintet can see them (who or what are the Quintet?)

o ?- what are the "new gods?"

o ?- are their old gods?

o ?- why can't everyone see the shadows

- No one one knows where the shadows came from

- ? – could those be the animal things I see out of the corner of my eye?

o If so, why can I see them?

School was grateful distraction for Chenoa. With Gabby, she didn't have to think about Tristan. Her face flushed every time she thought about him. The school day was thankfully uneventful and Chenoa found time passing faster than she would have cared for. Chris also ended up having a much better day than the one before, which Nick contributed to Chris not picking on Chenoa.

"You shouldn't mess with her, Chris," Nick said for the millionth time at lunch.

Chris had been watching Chenoa eat, trying to devise a trick to play on her.

"Why? Because it's mean?" Chris snorted.

Smirking, Chris did not take his eyes off Chenoa. Nick suppressed a grimace. Sometimes Chris's intensity towards Chenoa was just plain creepy.

"Well, yes. And you are too old to be picking on a girl like that. I mean if you like her why don't you just ask her out?"

"Like her? I don't like her!"

"Please you stare at her more than my older brother stares at nudie magazines."

Nick laughed and patted Chris on the back. Chris rolled his eyes. Everyone knew that Nick's older brother was a borderline porno addict. Yet there was no way Chris liked Chenoa. There was just something about her that made him want to tease and pick on her, some reason he wanted to make her face flush pink and her body tremble. Stupid Chenoa with her stupid, pretty smile and stupid, kind personality.

"Chris, I'm serious. You shouldn't mess with her…she's…she's different."

"I know that. That's why I mess with her. There is something different about her and it bugs me."

"No, I mean really different. Dangerous different."

"What do you mean? Have you heard something? Seen something?"

Snapping his head around, Chris stared intently at Nick as if he could pluck the information from Nick's head. Recoiling slightly, Nick shook his head.

"N…no…I just can tell."

Finally staring at his food, Chris sighed. Nick was such a worry-wart. Yet Chris didn't want to get in a fight with Nick. No matter how annoying Nick could be, Nick was Chris's best friend. It was possible Nick had a point about Chris acting juvenile. He just couldn't help it when it came to Chenoa. It was like an itch he had to scratch.

As Chris thought about this, Nick stared in Chenoa's direction, not at her but at the ground around her. Chenoa and Gabby sat on a table next to a large window. The sun flooded in, illuminating Gabby and Chenoa, while throwing shadows on the ground, which were what Nick watched. Instead of looking like oddly shaped chairs and people, the shadows all looked like animals, whose heads were facing Chenoa. As he observed the shadows, he remembered the first time he had seen them and how he could never stop seeing them afterwards.

Winter had been strong and cold. Snow covered the ground and reached to mid-calf. Nick had been on the bus as it approached Chenoa's stop. Chris had been complaining about Chenoa as always.

"She's always so damn nice," Chris had bitched. "No one can be that nice and she's always answering questions in class. Such a little miss know-it-all…"

Doing as he always did, Nick had nodded and smiled, occasionally agreeing. He stared out the bus window as Chris talked, enjoying the fresh snow. Fresh snow had always been one of Nick's favorite things. It was clear, crisp and dazzling like diamonds. As the bus approached Chenoa's stop, he saw her struggling in her clunky boots to get through the snow to the bus stop. That's when Nick first saw the odd shadows. Chenoa had tripped in the snow and was falling backwards when her shadow seemed to reach up, catch her, and place her back on balance. If that hadn't been strange enough, her shadow looked like a black polar bear. Rubbing his eyes, Nick had been sure he had seen it by mistake. However, as Chenoa walked towards the bus, Nick saw that her shadow did look like polar bear. Not only that though but the trees, fences, and anything that cast a shadow seemed to have a shadow that looked like an animal.

Then as Chenoa came closer and closer to the bus, the shadows seemed to detach themselves and follow her. Again, Nick had rubbed his eyes and tried to refocus, but the shadows were following her like lambs behind their shepherd. For the rest of the day, Nick had done his best to convince himself that it had been his imagination. It was not physically possible. Yet during a lunch much like today, he saw the shadows again and knew it could not be his imagination. He didn't feel he was that creative and to see them more than once meant something to him. Chenoa was different all right; he just didn't understand how or why.

Now as he watched her, Nick noticed that Gabby was doing the same, looking around at the floor as she ate with her best friend. She was trying not to be obvious, but she was definitely studying the shadows on the floor. Lifting her head, Gabby met Nick's eyes and her face was creased with concern. Nick knew what she was thinking. How could this be and what did it mean?

Gabby, for her part, was more concerned about Chenoa. Was this a good or bad thing? Her family was Latino so they always had stories about woogy-men and demons. She figured it was a mix of being Catholic and Latino. Now she worried that those stories were true and, if they were, then those woogy-men were after her best friend. But why?

"I'm going to go throw my stuff away and grab an ice cream bar. I feel like treating myself. Do you want one?" Chenoa asked, breaking her friend's thoughts.

"Huh? What?" Gabby started from her thoughts, unsure of what Chenoa had said.

"Gabby? Are you okay? You have been dazing off all day…I hope you didn't catch whatever I had yesterday."

"No…no…I'm fine. Just a lot on my mind."

"Okay. If you say so. Do you want an ice cream? My treat."

"Sure…chocolate, please."

"Of course."

Chenoa beamed at her best friend and walked away to throw away her trash. Gabby's hair stood on end as the shadows seemed to get up and follow Chenoa. It was unnatural and eerie. Yet despite its "wrongness," part of Gabby felt as if they were not dangerous. The way they followed her friend almost was like pets after their owner. If the idea had not seemed totally crazy, Gabby would have thought the shadows loved Chenoa.

In a moment Chenoa was back and they ate their ice cream, laughing about something or other. The shadows seemed to settle back down, and Gabby chose to let it slide from her mind. When lunch was over, Chenoa and Gabby headed to their class. The next strange thing was that there was a note saying class had been canceled. Nothing more. The whole class waited for the required twenty minutes but no one ever came. So, the students wandered off until next period. Chenoa and Gabby went outside to enjoy the nice weather. They sat in the football and track-field stands, basking in the sun.

"Day's almost over," Chenoa sighed in pleasure and worry.

"You don't sound like you are happy about that," Gabby laughed.

"I don't know," Chenoa replied, sitting up and looking at her hands. "We have this house guest right now and he just makes me feel weird and awkward."

"House guest? Why didn't you mention him before?"

"I was trying not to think about him."

"Why? Is he scary?"

"No."

"Creepy?"

"No…"

"Then what?"

"He's just…he's really hot."

"You're uncomfortable because he's really hot?"

Gabby laughed loudly, hitting her friend in the arm.

"No, you don't understand. He's like hypnotizing hot. I don't know. It doesn't seem natural. I mean when I look in his eyes, I lose all track of time and space and I just want him to hold me and…"

"Wow…Chenoa, you got it bad. Who is he?"

"Friend of my dad's."

"What? He's like old then!"

"I know! I know and it makes my attraction to him all that much worse 'cause he's my dad's friend."

They fell silent as Chenoa blushed. Trying to think of something positive to say, Gabby gnawed on her lower lip.

"Well, he's just visiting so he won't be around long and it's normal for girls our age to be attracted to older men. Plus, it's just a crush."

"Yeah, but…"

Chenoa's face turned bright pink.

"But what?"

"I had a dream about him last night."

"A dream? What kind of dream?"

"A…uh…sexual one."

It was Gabby's turn to blush as she smacked her friend hard on the arm. Both girls laughed uncomfortably.

"Really? What happened?" Gabby finally managed to ask.

"I don't remember it clearly, but it was really hot and heavy and amazing and…."

Unable to continue, Chenoa shivered in pleasure and embarrassment. Gabby stared amazed at her friend. To her knowledge, Chenoa had never been super sexual or even liked to talk about sex. This visitor had to be something.

"Maybe you are soul mates!" Gabby teased to break the uncomfortable silence.

"Shut up, Gabby! You said that yesterday about the guy from my dreams! He's like my dad's age, even if he looks only twenty-five."

"Even at twenty-five, he'd be ten years older than us. That's gross!"

"I know! I know! As you said it's just a crush, but it embarrasses me, and I don't know how long he'll be around, and I don't feel comfortable around him because of the dream and how hot he is."

"You'll be okay, Chenoa. It'll pass. Once you get to know him, those feelings will fade. Like mine for Booger Bobby did."

Snorting to stifle her laugh, Chenoa nodded her head vigorously. Chenoa had totally forgotten the two months that Gaby had liked Bobby Miller, better known as Booger Bobby, due to his unfortunate habit of catching horrible winter colds. Talking to Gabby made Chenoa feel better about her attraction to Tristan. Gabby was right. It would pass. However, this did not make her feel better about going home. She loved her home, but something kept telling her Tristan was trouble and that she had to be careful.

As Chenoa thought to herself, Gabby looked around the field. A gentle wind teased Gabby's cheeks as she looked over the field. Suddenly a strange man appeared on the field. The man was tall with a lean build. His eyes were bright blue like two stars shining in his face. His hair was the purest black that seemed to reflect silver under the rays of the sun. In all honesty, the man was so perfectly handsome in every way that it almost hurt to look at him. Meeting his eyes, Gabby had to squint to hold his brilliant gaze as if she were looking at the sun. Smiling a bewitching smile, the man held a long finger to his lips and seemed to tell her shush.

Then as suddenly as he appeared, the man disappeared. Blinking, Gabby thought that she truly must be going crazy.

The rest of the school day passed quickly and, before Chenoa knew it, she was walking back home. Matt appeared as he always did, full of questions about her day and life. It was a welcome excuse not to go home right away. So, Matt and Chenoa talked for a long time, about nothing in particular, just conversations about books and such. When the sun started to lower in the sky, Chenoa knew she had to excuse herself.

"I must be going," Chenoa sighed.

Her eyes flickered in the direction of her house.

"Why do you not seem happy about that?" Matt inquired with concern.

"We have a house guest right now…"

"And you don't like him…"

Tristan's face flashed into her mind. Matt cocked his head to the side with interest as his eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

"No. He seems nice enough. I don't know…"

He's too handsome. I have feelings for him. Chenoa thought in her mind. Matt's face turned sharp for a moment but smoothened quickly.

"What don't you know, Chenny?"

"He's just different, I guess."

Suddenly the dream flashed in her mind as Tristan had made her back arch and her mouth open in a moan. Both Matt and Chenoa blushed furiously as Chenoa turned away from Matt. Matt's fists clenched as he tried to return his face to normal. Taking a deep breath, Chenoa looked back at Matt, who had managed to get rid of all the red in his face, except for a few small patches on his cheeks.

"I got to be going. I'll see you tomorrow, Matt."

"Alright, Chenny. Have a good night."

Waving, Chenoa headed off to her house. Reaching it, Chenoa entered to find Tristan cooking on the stove. He looked up and smiled at her tenderly. She returned the smile, although hers felt awkward and forced.

"Your dad is working through dinner tonight. He feels like he is on a roll and doesn't want to lose concentration," Tristan told her as he started to spoon his food concoction onto a plate for her.

"I'm not hungry," she said quickly for an alarm in her mind had gone off.

Do not eat the food or drink he gives you a voice warned in her head.

"Are you sure? I made enough for the both of us," Tristan said, his eyes full of surprise and a little hurt.

"I…I am sure. Maybe some later," she said trying to be kind.

"Oh, okay."

Tristan beamed at her again, but she could feel the hurt behind the smile. He took the single plate and sat down to eat. Her stomach writhing with guilt, Chenoa stood there uneasily. Finally, she broke down and took a small plate of food. Sitting next to Tristan, Chenoa said maybe she was a little hungry. Tristan's eyes danced in delight as he started asking how her day was. Taking the opportunity to talk, rather than eat, Chenoa told him all about her day. When she mentioned Gabby, Chris, and others, Tristan wanted to know more about them. This took much more time to explain and describe everyone, so her food was soon cold and forgotten in front of her.

"Sounds like that Chris boy likes you," Tristan said, his voice flat.

"Naw…he's just Mr. Popular and likes to torture anyone who isn't popular," Chenoa waved her hand as if to remove the suggestion from the air.

"So he picks on other people too?"

Opening her mouth, Chenoa was going to say yes, but as she thought, Chenoa couldn't think of one instance when Chris did pick on other people. In fact, Chris was quite nice to everyone in school but her.

"No…I guess he doesn't."

"Huh…well, then you should be careful around him because he seems a little violent for my taste."

"Chris isn't violent…he just thinks he's funny when he's not."

"I just don't want anything bad to happen you."

"You don't have to worry, Tristan, but thank you."

She placed a hand over his and for moment felt truly comfortable with him. He squeezed her hand and stared at her with apparent affection. What kind of affection Chenoa did not know, so she pulled her hand free and excused herself. She had homework to do. Tristan watched her leave and shook himself. Having feelings, genuine feelings, was not something he had had in a very long time. He didn't know she could awaken them so fast in him.

That night Chenoa slept with her window open to enjoy the summer breezes that were starting to reach her home. Her sleep was deep and sound; her chest rising and falling rhythmically. The winds flowed in and out of her room freely as the electric tattooed man appeared at the foot of her bed.

Standing over her, the man brushed back the hair that had fallen over her face. Chenoa smiled as she felt a summer breeze brush against her cheek. Turning the man took on a serious face as he sat on the foot of her bed. His body did not even shift the bed as if he were light as air. Locking his eyes on the closed bedroom door, the man seemed to glow brighter, his body humming with power.

Suddenly Tristan was in the room, though the door had never opened. He appeared startled by the electric man's presences.

"Ventus Cordis," he murmured, bowing in respect. "What are you doing here?"

"I am sitting," Cor replied with a kind smile.

"I did not mean that literally," Tristan scowled, annoyed by Cor's play on words.

"Then you should ask a more specific question," Cor grinned more broadly still.

"You are as annoying as the Cheshire Cat."

"Ah, but I would believe more so since I actually exist."

"Why are you here in Chenoa's bedroom, Cor?"

"To protect her and guard her."

"From what?"

"From you, Tristan."

Tristan did not seem surprised. If anything, he appeared relieved as he leaned against the wall by the door.

"From me? Why?"

"You know why. You seem to lack all control around her."

"I always am like this when around beautiful women. It is my nature."

"Not with her. If you wish to be allowed near her, you must exercise control. She is not someone you can feed off like other women."

"I have not fed off of her."

"I wish you would not lie to me, Tristan. You know that lies stink to my poor nose."

"I just fed a little, Cor. Nothing to worry about."

"Your feelings for her are too strong and she doesn't know what is going on yet. You must think of her well-being before your own."

"I have always thought of her first."

"When you feed off of her like some common human or nonhuman female, you do not think of her first."

"I just wished to hold her again. It has been so long."

"But it was only a dream. It was not real."

"I could make it real if I wanted to…"

Tristan's face became sharp and hungry looking. In a flash he sprinted at Cor, his aim Chenoa. There was a thunderous whooshing sound and eight-foot wings sprung from Cor's back, making one smooth motion as they beat forward and back. This one movement caught Tristan in the chest with a mighty gust of wind, knocking him backwards, slamming him into the back wall of Chenoa's room. Groaning, Tristan looked at Cor as he stood there his wings expanded. Cor's wings were eight feet wide each, giving him a sixteen-foot wingspan, and reached from just above the floor to a few inches above his head. They sprung from his back seamlessly and appeared to ripple with muscle. These massive deep brown, almost black, wings resembled those of a California Condor.

"See, Tristan, you are lacking all control," Cor said sadly, his eyes pitying Tristan.

Growling, Tristan stood up and brushed himself off. His green eyes shone bright in anger.

"Why should you keep her to yourself?" Tristan snapped.

His eyes locked on Chenoa, who slept as if nothing was happening.

"Keep her to myself? Tristan, is your jealousy so great that you truly think that I have any intentions towards her other than keeping her safe?"

"I am not jealous!"

"Then why do you suggest that I wish to keep her to myself? I merely wish to protect her from everything that could do her harm. That includes you. You have not been around her in a very long time. You must remember to control yourself."

"I am in control. I merely wish to be with her again."

"You know you can't be. You being here is hard enough on her. Can't you feel her confusion when she is with you? She doesn't understand the feelings she is having."

"She will soon."

"Tristan, she does not remember you. She doesn't remember any of us."

Tristan paused and shifted his eyes to Cor. Pain crossed both men's faces. Shaking his head, Tristan couldn't accept that there wasn't a small part of her that remembered him. There had to be.

"Tristan, she will be forced to remember soon enough. Can't you wait? Can't you wait until she is ready?"

"All I have done is wait for that…"

His voice stuck. A fear crawled to the surface.

"What if she never remembers me?"

"Then you are not meant to be remembered."

"I can't accept that I am not meant to be in her life. I can't accept that I am not meant to be remembered."

"It is not up to us to decide, but I will do my best to help her remember all of us when the time is right."

"And what makes you the best person to decide when the time is right?"

"Maybe I am not, but who are you to force her to have feelings that she does not understand?"

Tristan walked along the wall, staying out of range of Cor's wings. He focused on his fingers as they ran along the wall. Cor's eyes never left Tristan. While Cor's body appeared relaxed, in truth all his muscles were taut and ready for action.

"I am who I am, Cor. I can't change that."

"No one is asking you to. Just try to control yourself around her. Try to let her have a bit more time as she is."

"I am not sure I can. I am the way she has made me. I am the way she has made me…"

Pausing Tristan grasped the window's frame in his hands. Looking at Cor, Tristan felt pain run through his entire body. No one could understand, especially not Cor. No one else felt her absence as much as he did.

"I am sorry, Cordis, but I don't think I can stop myself."

Cor opened his mouth but only managed a hiss as Tristan slammed the window closed. Ventus Cordis disappeared, leaving Tristan alone with the sleeping Chenoa. Tristan strode to Chenoa's bed and knelt next to her. He brushed back her hair just as Cor had, his hands trembling. A part of himself had awoken the day he first saw Chenoa again, a part of him that made him remember what it was like to be human. It hurt and felt wonderful all at once.

"Please remember me, Onatah…. please," he begged softly. "Please awaken and remember me."

Tears slowly poured down Chenoa's face, causing Tristan to start. Chenoa was crying in her sleep. Brushing them off her face, Tristan wondered why she was crying. Placing his hands on her head, Tristan closed his eyes and breathed deeply.

Tristan was suddenly in Chenoa's dream. She was collapsed on the ground holding something or someone in her lap. Chenoa didn't look like herself though. She was older and very different. Her hair was black as the spaces between stars and her skin a beautiful red-brown like clay earth. At the moment her stunning face was contorted in pain. She wept openly over the thing that was in her lap, clutched to her chest.

"Please forgive me," she was begging. "Please forgive me…"

Cautiously moving closer, Tristan willed himself to be invisible to Chenoa. As he approached, he saw whatever she was holding glowed a gentle silver white, though the light seemed to be dying. Looking over Chenoa's shoulder, Tristan gasped in surprise. He looked upon the unconscious face of himself, though he was also much different.

In the dream Tristan looked about the same age as the real Tristan but his hair was honey brown and reached to just above his ears. His skin pulsed soft silvery white and no breath seemed to be entering or leaving his body For all Tristan could tell, his dream self was dead.

"Tristan," Chenoa cried, her voice sounding like the world's heart was breaking. "Tristan, please forgive my arrogance and selfishness…"

Her body shook and convulsed in pain. The real Tristan could not feel his own heartbeat. Sadness engulfed him. He couldn't breathe. Gasping, the real Tristan fell to his knees, suffocating on the grief and pain that emitted from Chenoa. A pair of feet appeared next to him. Looking up, the real Tristan reached to the new figure for help and could not believe his eyes. Another Chenoa was there with the same long black hair and earth colored skin. Her eyes were dry though and her face serious. She did not help him as he drowned in the weeping Chenoa's anguish.

"You wish for me to remember this, Tristan? This suffocating, drowning agony?" the second Chenoa asked in a voice that echoed as if it came from somewhere far in the past.

"On..ona…onatah," Tristan managed to gasp, grabbing the hem of her her long dress. "Please, help me…"

The second Chenoa only stared hard at him. His vision started to darken as the grief consumed him. Finally, before he lost consciousness, the second Chenoa reached down and touched his shoulder. All the pain and grief left him. Filling with fresh air, Tristan gasped and choked on the air.

"Thank you, Onatah," he murmured standing.

"I should have let you drown in my pain," the woman said again in the echoing voice. "As you would let my new body do."

"No, I do not want that."

"Yet you beg me to remember you. When I remember you, Tristan, I shall remember this."

She waved her hand over the scene before them. Her eyes wavered for a fraction of a second before becoming cold again. Tristan looked over the scene again. Of course, he did not remember that day, but he had been dead. How could he?

"I am sorry. I just miss you so much."

"I am still here. Do you not see me before you?"

"But you are not the same."

"You are right. I am not the same, but no one stays the same. You are not the same as the man I weep over in this memory. Yet I accept you. Why can you not do the same?"

"I want you to love me again."

"That is the great thing about rebirth, Tristan. It allows you to do things over. You want me to love you, then make me fall in love with you again as you did the first time. Learn the new me and fall in love with her, because we cannot change the past and we cannot return to it. If you want to love, then fall in love with the new me."

The woman leaned forward, cupping Tristan's face in her hands and kissed him. He shivered, feeling the whole world inside of him until the kiss was broken and he opened his eyes. Tristan stood above the sleeping Chenoa. The tears still ran down her face, but otherwise they were alone. Sighing in defeat, Tristan squatted next to Chenoa once again.

"I will make you love me again," he whispered to the sleeping Chenoa as he stroked her hair. "I will make you love me again and you will find my heart for me."