Chymaera's Overture: a Shadowed Ways novel Read online

  The only area that stayed clear was his desk. Kai woke his laptop and adjusted the double monitors. He plopped into his comfy swivel chair and turned to the side. Swinging his legs up to hang over the desk’s edge, he leaned back and pecked at the keyboard in his lap. His current identity, the high school senior, had projects to complete. Yet, it was the second semester, and Willamette Valley University had accepted him, so no need to kill himself. Besides, it was not his first trip through high school, and he refused to fake interest that much. His goal was adequacy.

  Kai hoped there would be an interesting diversion in his emails, but his spam blocker did its job too well. He delayed irritation and opened the email from ThursdaysChild31415 dead last. He didn’t expect and didn’t want, to get emails from Gayle. They had started an NSA hookup situation about 9 months ago, before he developed regrets. The clear difference in their ages made dating a no go, and the situation had looked manageable. She didn’t have time for a real relationship, and he despaired of good companionship options, it seemed a natural solution. Then her schedule had loosened, and she’d feigned casualness about showing up early and staying late to their meet-ups. He didn’t mind at first, but somehow their chill time had morphed into a situationship. It was different, unexpressed expectations lurked. Kai didn’t dislike Gayle, he just didn’t want a relationship with anyone.

  Both made mistakes by being indirect. Kai acted oblivious whenever Gayle hinted about wanting something more. Gayle responded by being more passive-aggressive, not less. He figured one day soon she would demand something he couldn’t give and he would end things. These last six weeks had provided a break, a cooling-off period; she was one of his father’s grad students and was halfway around the world with Prof. Kyung right now. But, even Kai didn’t want to be a complete dick and ignore her email. So, he read.

  Kai,

  I’m out of practice with writing personal emails now. I wanted to say the usual stuff… hope you are well, miss you, thinking about you.

  Anyway, we’re in Kenya now, and we spent last week on Pate Island. A professional storyteller caught my interest. Our lead interpreter said his tales were too outlandish and bastardizations of the local myths. Well, I thought of you considering we have found genetic anomalies/ markers in this region, so I paid him for a few stories.

  There are two attachments. I took the video with my phone, but quality seems ok. Also, I didn’t trust the local interpreter, his bias was obvious, so I hired a translator at the University of Nairobi. The man speaks a local dialect of Swahili, those notes are in the text.

  I hope you find something interesting. Well, I’ll be home soon.

  We’ll make plans…

  Gayle

  He stared, incredulity distorting his features. Annoyance warred with his appreciation, annoyance won. His research was a source of contention with his father; as a result, he didn’t discuss it much with anyone. Except his mother. The professor hated that his son had no interest in his fields: Microbiology and Genetics. Instead, Kai considered himself a historian and a mythologist. Where the elder Kyung preoccupied himself with human life, Kai had a fascination with his own people. The three decades Kai had taken to study and travel his father had considered an indulgence in a mere hobby. His mother understood his work’s importance on a level his father could not. She’d not only allowed the research, she’d supported it. Still, the discord between father and son had grown and made their relationship increasingly difficult. Kai believed no one understood his area of focus well enough to offer assistance, and he didn’t want Gayle insinuating herself further into his life. Nor did he wish to be blamed for distracting her from his father’s work.

  Kai sighed and opened the attachments.

  About an hour and a half (and many notes later), his opinion softened. Gayle had given him something, something worthwhile. It wasn’t a region of the globe he’d made his way to yet; he would have to rectify that. That made him question how he could thank her for finding him this treasure. Fuck! Kai stretched again and rubbed his face with his hands. Don’t be such an ungrateful ass, she tried to be nice, count this as a win! Kai moaned into his hands and figured it was time for his morning meditation.

  It was 5:37, the sun would be up soon, so would his family. As he walked through the still dwelling, Kai remembered to retract his talons; he didn’t want to scrape the hardwood or annoy anyone with his tapping progress. He exited using the sliding glass doors opposite the kitchen at the rear of the home. The first step into the cool morning air was unpleasant. Though neither heat, nor cold affected his stability, he felt temperature keenly. Heightened senses did that to you. Once he stepped on the dew-moistened ground, he unsheathed his claws, digging into the damp earth beneath him. He swiveled his pointed ears like radar, nothing. He looked around him, the black orbs absorbing light and every detail for miles, nothing. Perfect, he took off, sprinting faster than any human could.

  Kai covered the 3 miles from the main house to the far side of the property in seconds.

  Once he reached his destination, he circled, seeking the best spot. Then he knelt on the wet grass, his hands fell to his sides, fingers splayed out and palms flat to the ground. Then he closed his eyes and leaned his head back. His private time remained precious to him. He’d been back under his parents’ roof for about a year and the proximity of so many sentient life-forms on a constant basis required adjustment. Kai had just finished high school (the first time), when his parents left Hawaii 31 years ago. He’d traveled to get his bearings instead of joining them in the Pacific Northwest. And he’d spent many of those intervening years solo or with other solitary members of the Thumbra tribe. Well, the first year he’d partied in the hot spots in Europe. He wanted to try a scene that was urban and dense with humanity, something opposite from his rural and isolated childhood. Tiring of that, Kai moved on to university life, studying human history and folklore in its different forms. He earned a few degrees in relevant disciplines. After which, he rewarded himself with a vacation in the countryside. He hadn’t known what more he wanted to do then. But after teaching himself Romanian and devouring a local bookstore in a village at the foot of the Carpathian Mountains, he’d found his calling. A hunch had led him into researching local lore and that had spurred him into a trek into the mountains. He’d found an ancient Thumbra living covertly in a glade abandoned by humans because of a tale of her own creation. After that, his curiosity piqued, he’d roamed rural communities with fables to examine. His investigative skills strengthened and most of the time, when he suspected a Thumbra at the heart of things, he proved right. Many times Kai found the actual Thumbra in question. He spent years with the old-timers, the ones who couldn’t acclimate to the closeness and boisterousness of modern civilization. They clung to the ever-shrinking wild lands just beyond the borders of the smallest villages. He collected their stories and knowledge. His goal became creating an anthology; the intersection of human folklore and Thumbra history, with the focus on his people for once. His mother, the Queen, approved of this goal, provided he also compiled a dossier for her on each Thumbra he found off grid. Their legendary exploits were of no concern. She focused on their mental fitness and loyalty to their mandate. She needed assessments of their skills and potential liabilities. He acknowledged no duality in serving both purposes. Ultimately both were for the good of his clan. He’d found his feet, his mission, knowing it would take hundreds of years to complete. It seemed as though he’d barely begun when Kels had shown up with the Queen’s summons. Kai couldn’t refuse to return. He made promises to her when they’d parted, and she was who she was. There may have been a twinge of resentment on occasion, but Kai didn’t dwell on what wasn’t changeable. He trusted his mother to respect his autonomy and use him only when required. The work wasn’t going anywhere, he’d return to it when he could.

  Time to begin. He closed his eyes to aid his focus and began his little mantra. “I am the center. I am the still and knowing place. Everything I require is within
me.” He repeated the phrases until it was just rhythm and tone. Sometimes he recited The Lord’s Prayer and sometimes it was the Litany Against Fear - whatever would get him in the right frame of mind. Though he didn’t need to breathe, he sucked air into his mouth and tasted it on his forked tongue. He tasted the morning dew, the pollen in the breeze, the taint of pollution, and rain due later that day. With his ears, he heard the water sluicing through the rocks, insects in the grasses, and birdsong in the distance. He felt the moist earth and the sluggish shifting of tectonic plates miles beneath him. He opened his awareness to experience his surroundings, and then he let it fade into white noise, mere background.

  For Kai, meditation separated the superficial from the meat in life. To do what was needed of him, he compartmentalized all of his functions and experiences. Sometimes, all that “managing” to deal with the moment kept him from seeing the situation as a whole. At his core, he separated emotion from reason. Unpacked burdens and set them free or buried them inhumanly deep. Kai looked at the puzzle from last night, and he speculated a change coming. No Empath, especially one he didn’t know, should have been able to selectively reach out to him. A random shock of emotion would have awakened the entire house; he’d lived long enough to know he wasn’t receptive to mental communication. It signified something. His mother requested his return home for a reason, but had not divulged it to him, just telling him he’d know when it happened. A stirring within him suggested this was just the beginning. He dreaded having his life upended, again, but he accepted the possibility., He was his mother’s son and the Queen’s soldier, he expected a certain amount of instability. The intelligence officer within him stored the information, and the tactician wondered how it would be of use. He resolved to train with more profound intensity, all he had was instinct, and instinct urged preparedness.

  Kai broke his remaining anxiety into digestible pieces and redirected the energy.

  Once he’d dealt with his concerns and felt more like himself, he explored the earth beneath him. He sent tendrils into the ground and sifted through layers of soil and sediment. The minerals in the earth interested him and he examined them further within his shell. Whenever he discovered something useful, he stored it for later.

  He lost time easily while he connected with nature. Kai surprised himself when he realized about two hours had passed. He noticed an approach and recognized her footfalls. Irritated with himself for not leaving sooner, he inhabited the body and prepared for the disruption.

  “Morning, son. I’m sorry to disturb you, but the Holston boys are coming over soon. They’ll be here within a half hour. I believe you also have classes to attend.”

  Kai didn’t move. “Okay.”

  “Kai, I don’t want you to lose track of time, again.”

  Kai smirked but said nothing. In his mind, he envisioned the human version of himself, similar to an engineer’s blueprint. He kept his eyes closed, but shrunk his form to 5 foot 10 inches. The claws pulled back and became fingers and toes. His skin gained the golden tone of the Hawaii born Korean teenager that was his current disguise. With one hand he slid his knotted hair loose, and it became less coarse and wavy, disappearing below his shoulder. When Kai opened his eyes to face his mother, they were a deep brown with a white sclera, no longer the solid black orbs.

  “Satisfied?”

  Yesmin looked at her son with ancient gray eyes and a frozen mask of humanity. She had never perfected the camouflage of passing, her bearing was too stoic and authoritative. Still, she compensated by choosing a petite and delicate form that most assumed was harmless. She looked Persian with fair skin, raven-black wavy hair, fine features, and an aristocratic manner. That alone allowed people to make useful assumptions about her history, about the lines of pain and anger around her eyes and in the corners of her mouth. Such assumptions spared her from too many questions about her past. Kai’s sarcasm earned him an extra slow blink, with the barest hint of amusement before she turned on her heel. Her quick short steps made her appear to glide along the surface of the ground as she returned to the house. He sighed (another bad habit he needed to stop) and made his millionth promise to be less of a prick to his mother. He couldn’t help but goad her. It was difficult being the prodigal son. Or in public, a step-grandson, whatever, their relationship was complex.

  Anyway, the Holston boys didn’t need him as an audience. He preferred to avoid his father’s human graduate students. Their job of babysitting the lab while the professor out and about didn’t use enough of their energy. They liked to spend their free time by getting on Kai’s nerves.

  Reinvigorated and focused, Kai pushed himself into a standing position and turned back towards the house. He’d bribe Kels into getting up and working out with him. His nephew (though they referred to each other as “Cuzzo”) was not an early riser. The hybrid (part Keros-Ki, a werebeast) was a nocturnal creature; but, he loved sports and conditioning activities. It was his favorite way to start the day and was his form of meditation. Once they’d worked off excess energy, Kai would submerge himself into another day of study at his private, alternative high school. Thank God the academic year was almost over.

  3 - Ain't no high school musical

  Chymaera

  After the Nana’s lecture, a chastened kid might have focused on their family responsibilities. Eh, not I. The momentous day of my first circle, and I almost forgot about it. Human teens attend school, so did I. Believe me, it wasn’t pettiness, and I didn’t intend to be late; I just got caught up.

  But, let me fill in the blanks.

  This was my senior year at Verruckt Performing & Fine Arts Preparatory, an exclusive private school. By exclusive I mean expensive, not an academic powerhouse. I’m not suggesting the school didn’t have standards; just it used alternative methods in terms of instruction, grading, and administration. If you lived south of LA, and north of San Diego, and wanted educational freedom with a focus on the arts and a legit diploma; this is where your wealthy parents sent you.

  Verruckt took talented kids and equipped them with skill. Along with talent, most students also had issues that required flexibility. This included working professionals, eccentrics, anti-vaxxers, and kids who found the Waldorf school too rigid. Given both my pursuit of music and my tendency to cut classes, it suited me.

  The student body were all privileged, but not necessarily assholes. In an average school, there might be a handful of kids with any artistic aptitude. That special group always lands the lead or solo, or wins the awards, cementing their place in the school hierarchy. At Verruckt, everyone had ability and few outdistanced the competition enough to assume the top spots. Fewer had enough self-confidence (or self-loathing) to bully others. These budding artists and performers wanted serious careers in creative fields, and school was only part of their hustle. Who had the time for serious assholery? People got paying work when possible, but my fellow students juggled various regional and community performance groups or art co-ops and shows. Anything to pad their resumes and improve their odds of acceptance to a conservatory or art institute. Despite the belief that the arts aren’t challenging, good programs are selective.

  I’d prolonged the agony and decided to take a gap year. Somehow, my mother and grandmother (who never agreed on anything) joined forces to talk me into it. Still, I couldn’t act complacent if I planned to apply to music schools the following year. My calendar overflowed with responsibilities. I had senior seminars to cover my required credits in academic subjects. I also performed with two orchestras and had senior projects for both Advanced Music Composition, and Performance Violin. Friday’s schedule included a seminar in Music as Political Activism and rehearsal for both projects with Alyssa. She was my constant accompanist, amongst other things. We’d spent the morning practicing Tchaikovsky’s Valse Sentimentale for Violin and Piano and had then moved on to our composition pieces.

  Alyssa and I, well, calling us best friends seems inadequate. We were in sync in the most important topic to us b
oth - music. Everything else got pushed aside by mutual agreement. We both had family issues and managed to not discuss them. Instead, we pushed deeper into the music. Most of the other kids couldn’t understand our relationship. From their viewpoint, I was Chy (pronounced Shy for some strange reason), a fun girl who made violins seem cool. (Violinists have always gotten a bad rap.) They categorized me as passionate an enviable and acceptable perception. Alyssa received different treatment; she was both aloof and intense. A hardcore pianist. (Pianists are prima donnas.) She breathed, ate and slept music in general and for her piano in specific. Even in a performing arts school – Alyssa far exceeded expectations regarding dedication. No one matched her grind. No one risked her wrath by signing up for her favorite rehearsal space, and no one interrupted her practice, and she practiced damn near continuously. And while she didn’t exhibit typical signs of social awkwardness, she didn’t have an interest in most social happenings. Not if they weren’t music adjacent at the least.