Eleanor and Basil

She saw herself suddenly enveloped in a dense fog. Before her eyes, tufts of her red hair danced moved by a wind that could not dispel the fog. She waved her arms, but there was nothing around to touch. She moved her feet, but found no surface on which to stand. She could have been under water, were it not for the fact that she was still unmistakably dry. Then she heard movement, voices that seemed to come from somewhere below.

As if commanded by her curiosity, the clouds parted and hinted a modest village. Flimsy-looking homes erected in stone and straw, the kind that she had seen only in history books and in the documentaries that she watched with Anne. What was this place? She flew over the area and discovered that it was surrounded by what appeared to be a vast sea.

She closed her eyes and when she opened them, she found herself walking through the crowd. The grass beneath her feet shone like emeralds although the sky was completely covered by white clouds again. She saw strong men and women, whose skin was tanned, carrying baskets overflowing with unknown fruits. In fact, these people seemed to be offspring of the Sun. Their tan did not seem natural, and glowed as golden as the colour of their hair. Some had hair the colour of the land washed by the rain, others, the colour of wheat fields. Their eyes seemed honey, coffee, grasslands, herb. Had she not seen them with their feet on the ground, Jean would have thought that on them depended all sunrises. She followed the path of their steps and went inside one of the houses. All the harvest piled on each side of a table occupied by slender, delicate people. Their skin was pearly, as though daylight had never caressed them. Their hair of deep and bright black, red and grey reminded of the universe. Their eyes seemed sky, ocean, snow, amethyst. On them, Jean thought, might have depended the tides of the seas.

She returned to the outside of the house and rejoiced in the order that the scene exuded, and the liveliness and joy of all its inhabitants.

She blinked again, and now it was night. A young couple huddled in bed around a small lump. She had long golden hair that cascaded over her lean shoulders; he, however, had broad shoulders and hair that reminded of burning steel. Together, they looked like a sunset. The lump that was between them moved, and inside the silk that covered it the rosy face of a baby could be seen. The couple exchanged a glance in which Jean could perceive both love and fear. A voice that seemed to come from the back of her mind whispered 'Sindone'.

She closed and opened her eyes, and all that had ever seemed bright, was now lost in the shadows. The clouds above her head were grey and the grass was the dull colour of petroleum. She found the couple she had seen before. In their features could be guessed the passing of at least ten years. Along with them was a strong teenage girl with coppery rebellious hair. The man was arguing with a pale, hunched old man.

'Sindone has not hurt anyone, Itzal', Jean heard him say in a low and steady voice.

'It is because of her that we are living like this!', the elder replied, incensed.

Everything around darkened for a few seconds in which the dispute seemed to have progressed.

'... I will be forced to put and end to your threats', Jean could only hear the last part of the sentence, but did not know what he meant.

'I will put an end to yours', elderly Itzal hissed.

Everything went dark again, and now both men were in a melee.

'Eleanor, take Sindone home!'

'Move over, Basil!', Itzal yelled trying to get rid of the man. A lightning and the next thing Jean saw was Basil lying on the ground, and his wife sobbing and hugging her daughter.

Itzal headed toward both women with danger glistening in his eyes. Anticipating the intentions of her mother, Sindone prevented her from coming between her and the old man. Another flash momentarily blinded Jean. When she regained vision, Sindone had disappeared, and dark shadows were devouring Itzal's body. Eleanor ran to the place where Basil was prostrated and everything sank once more into the darkness.

Jean was losing hope of catching another glimpse of the scene, when two huge yellow eyes with vertical spear-looking pupils fixed on her, penetrating as if they could see into her soul. A very different voice to the one she had heard before spoke... 'Jean Hart'.

She woke startled, sweating slightly. It was still dark, and Anne snorted in her sleep in the contiguous bed. She attempted to collect the last vestiges of what she had seen, but it was in vain. Seconds before resting her head on the pillow again, everything she had dreamed vanished from her memory.

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1. The Harts

2. Nightmares

3. The arrival of the Kayes

4. Changes

5. St. Ameus School