Believe in the Mystics Read online

  BELIEVE

  ~IN THE~

  MYSTICS

  Tacori Bean

  This is a work of fiction. Any places, names, unusual, or historical happenings, are either a product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to any places, persons, dead or alive, events, businesses, locations, or historical happenings, are a complete coincidence.

  BELIEVE IN THE MYSTICS ~ Book One of The Mystics Trilogy

  Copyright © 2019 by Tacori Bean

  Cover design by germancreative

  All cover art copyright © 2019

  All Rights Reserved

  Print ISBN: 9781793954565

  All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted, digital, written, or photocopied without written permission from the author, with true signature.

  ABOUT THE PRINT: If you receive a copy of this book without a cover, it is stolen property. Please report this if you encounter such a possibility.

  Genre: Fantasy-Adventure

  ~Dedications~

  Dedicated to everyone who thought I couldn’t do it. I didn’t prove you wrong, I proved myself right.

  And to those who encouraged me to write this book. If it weren't for you, no one would know the stories that play in the head of an abnormal teenager.

  ~Prologue~

  THE BUSTLING OF the Seattle suburbs was enough to drive anyone crazy. I, on the other hand enjoyed them, because whenever I was there it seemed like I was finally moving just as the world was.

  Today I wanted to stop. The day had just been too short and the goodbye too fresh.

  I pulled the old minivan into the cracked driveway of the worn down ranch house. Grabbing the box sitting in the passenger seat, I went inside of the house.

  The blank walls were the same in every house that we moved to. My mother didn’t like to personalize anything just incase her job moved us across country again.

  “Journey? Is that you?” A voice called from the living room.

  Speaking of which.

  “Yeah it’s me.” I muttered, peaking into the living room.

  She was sitting in her usual spot at her desk, staring intensely at her computer screen, her face hidden by faded blonde waves. Ever since my father left, she had been nothing but distant from me.

  “How did it go? Did the movers get everything cleaned from your grandmother’s house?” She asked.

  I stared down at the only box I was allowed to take from Grandma Al’s home. “...Yeah…” I mumbled, as I was still furious about this life- changing decision.

  “Good. You know I would have helped but I have just been so busy with work. But it’s gonna be good for her. Besides, she’ll get the help she needs.” She stated harshly still looking away from me.

  “I… know, Mom... I am going to go look through this box in my room.” I spun on my heels and rushed to my room before she could say anything else.

  I closed the door and fell down to the cold floor as tears threatened to fall on my cheeks.

  How could she act like this? Acting like everything is okay. Grandma Al begged not to be put in a home, and Mom didn’t even listen. She doesn’t even care how we feel. Besides she could have at least moved her closer instead of two hours away.

  I gazed down at the box from her house and smiled sadly at my name written on the top.

  It's Okay. Grandma Al’s calming voice washed over me and eased my racing mind.

  Before I thought too much into it, I pushed away the endless thoughts and decided to open the mysterious box. Moving across the room, I set the box on my desk, under the only window in my room.

  As usual the world was running around my standing figure. I was… trapped. Bounded by these chains to a room that wasn’t mine and a house that never felt like a home. Wanting nothing more than to live a life I would be proud of.

  Stay strong.

  I pulled open the top flap of the box and smiled.

  A framed picture of my grandmother and me sat on top with a note attached to it.

  I placed the picture on the desk, and carefully opened the envelope.

  Dear Journey,

  I know you feel the same way about the move as I do, but please don’t take it out on your mother. While she has every right to be angry with me about how I treated her, her anger did not make this decision.

  After I got the news of leaving the house and being moved into a nursing home I gathered up some of my old treasures that would mean nothing to anyone else but you. These treasures tell the story of my life, in a way not humanly possible. They must live on. There are people counting on it.

  I hope one day you can forgive your mother for how she has treated you, and find somewhere that you are loved. I ask that you keep these few items with you, that maybe they will show you to that place. I got them on my first adventure. I hope, maybe they will lead you to your first adventure, also.

  Stay strong and maybe one day you can let someone past those walls that you have put up. Just like I did. Your soul and heart are so beautiful and kind, it is a shame that the world cannot see them.

  Good luck on this next adventure. It will be hard and painful, but there will be friends and people who care about you. Just please never forget who you truly are, and no matter what anyone tells you, you are never alone.

  With much love,

  Grandma Al

  “Why do you always speak in riddles?” I whispered between my clenched teeth into the silence.

  The mistakes I've made created this terrible world around me. I've tried and tried to live a normal life, but no one accepts someone who lives their life behind walls like mine. I can't trust them. Adventures are the one escape from life but this life is a prison, one that is not broken out of. These mistakes have built a prison around me.

  Then again, maybe I deserve it. I am built from every mistake I've made and I deserve all the consequences for them.

  I pulled the other stuff out of the box.

  Sitting on top was an old, wooden jewelry box with a detailed lid. I opened the lid, my grandmother’s perfume expanded into the air. Inside was a light brown, cuff bracelet that was etched with black detailing all the way around the band. In the center, the material expanded into a circle with a black leafless tree engraved on it. I fastened the bracelet on my left wrist and remembered how she always wore this bracelet. Until my grandfather passed that is. After that she stopped wearing it and going on her adventures.

  The stories of her adventures were what made me want my own. The freedom of doing what I pleased and going where I wanted. But my grandparents made a mistake while they were on their adventures. They didn’t take time they should have for their children.

  My mom and her brother were cared for by their full-time nanny. They hardly ever saw their parents when they were growing up. No walking to school on the first day of kindergarten, or being picked up early from school to go get ice cream.

  Seems familiar.

  My mother was the same way, but I learned a long time ago not to be fazed by it. That’s how my mother got through her childhood and that’s how I’ll get through mine. I’d never been one to trust others, maybe because my mom never really trusted anyone. These walls I've put up protect me. Trusting people makes me too vulnerable, and I am not going to let someone take advantage of me because of something I can prevent.

  Maybe Grandma Al is right. Maybe I’ll find someone who I can trust, but for now, I’m on my own.

  I looked back into the box, trying to use the little bit of light left from the sun.

  Covering the bottom of the box, sat a dark brown leather journal, illuminated by the sun. I picked it up, undid the bronze latches
on the side, and opened the cover.

  Inked words filled the hand-pressed pages. Many of the pages were filled with stories and the more I read the more I wanted to know what Grandma Al really meant from her letter.

  Towards the middle of the journal, torn and missing pages became more and more frequent. The last page with writing was in a shaky font and many of the words didn’t make any sense. Some seemed as though they were in a different language, some so scribbled I couldn’t make it out, but the last few words, repeated themselves in my mind over and over again

  To the others like me, my own people, this is where your adventure begins...

  ~1~

  THE FOREST WAS dark and wet with fresh rain, the sun did not even glisten on the water that dripped from the tall, spiraled trees, for it was coated by a thick fog. The crashing water of a stream nearby, made my skin sticky and the air humid around me. The ground was mostly moss, and small patches of white flowers dotted the area. It was peaceful and comforting.

  Wait…

  As chills started to encase my body, my eyes darted to my feet then to the area around me.

  A light pink dress hung loosely on my short, proportioned body, the bottom coming to just above the top of my feet, which were covered by brown boots that matched the belt and stitching of the dress. My grandmother’s cuff bracelet was hidden by the large bell sleeves, that also protected my light beige skin from the non-existent sunlight. A gray cloak was fastened around my neck with a gold wing-like clip.

  The front of my honey brown hair was pulled back with the rest of the knotted, wavy mess, exposing my round face.

  Where am I? And why am I dressed like this? I scowled internally at the darkness of the forest.

  Okay. Stay calm. Think. Closing my eyes, I tried to calm my mind and focus.

  It sounds like there is a river in the distance.

  I began to wander through the dark forest, trying to follow the sound of the crashing water.

  After tripping on roots that reached up from the soft dirt, I found my way to the stoney bank of a stream.

  The light that peeked through the trees warmed my face, but the chill of the wind made me pull my cloak a little tighter around my neck.

  So it wasn't a river...

  As I approached the edge of the water, the calm stream water splashed on my shoes.

  I sighed in my head.

  Despite the calmness of the stream, the crashing water roared in my ears until I was forced to walk back into the peaceful silence of the trees.

  I continued to look around until a rustling in the bushes made me stop in my tracks.

  Suddenly, a large dog-like creature poked it’s red face through the foliage, his angered orange eyes met my emerald green ones.

  He crouched down, his large claws digging into the soft mud.

  “It’s okay. I-I won’t hurt you.” My small voice shook, but it only continued to growl.

  My body began to shake uncontrollably as it was getting ready to pounce. I froze in terror and willed my body to move but it never did.

  Just my luck! Killed by a strange beast, in the middle of nowhere.

  I heard the creature’s claws leave the ground, and I braced knowing the creature could kill me with one attack.

  “Watch out!”

  I was hit with such force and impact it knocked me out of my shocked daze. My eyes shot open, and my lungs gasped for air.

  A man rose from beside me, and removed his arm from around my waist. When he stood up, he pulled a sword from the holster on his hip.

  Angered more than before, the creature spun around. With his sword in front of him, the man faced the creature. As soon as the creature lunged at him, he sidestepped and threw his sword into the beast’s chest.

  When the creature stopped twitching, the man drew his blood covered sword and placed it back in his holster.

  Way to make an entrance.

  He turned and faced me.

  His amber skin had a pinkish tint from the cold. Untouched by the humid atmosphere, his dirty blonde hair was pushed back from his rough face. The light peeking through the fog illuminated his intricate lapis blue eyes.

  He quickly moved over towards me. His tall, built figure towering over me. He removed his glove and held his hand out to me.

  “Are you alright?” His deep, charming voice asked.

  “Besides a little shaken up, I’m good, thanks,” I replied, accepting his offer of helping me up.

  When he grabbed my hand a sort of tingling shot through me, one that made chills run down my spine, but it was not in a bad way.

  Woah… Why does his touch feel this familiar? I thought.

  A sudden sharp pain spread from my cheek causing a small headache to erupt in my temple.

  I reached up and felt my cheek, my hand coated in a sticky red substance.

  “Here allow me.” He said, offering a cloth against my cheek.

  His hand brushed mine as I accepted the cloth. Again his touch made chills run down my spine, but still not as if I was scared or cold. It was more comforting than anything else I could think of.

  What is this feeling...

  “I’m Damon.” He said, a smile appearing on his face, as its warmth brought me away from any thought of pain.

  My mind warned me against saying my name, but his smile was so comforting and easily drew me to him. A part of me told me I could trust him.

  “Journey.” I said, tucking a piece of light golden brown hair behind my ear with my free hand.

  “Lady… Journey, I apologize for not being here sooner. Considering the cipheron gave you a nasty looking wound on your cheek.”

  My face burned red as we stood in an awkward silence, unsure of how to proceed the conversation.

  Damon studied my face and quickly changed the subject, “May I ask, where you are from?” He inquired, putting his glove back on.

  “Well… I guess you could say I’m new around here, so I’m not sure where I am or how I get back to where I’m from.” I explained, trying to figure out where I was but also convincing myself that I was still in Washington, even though my mind warned me otherwise.

  “Is there somewhere nearby I could stay?” I asked, shivering from the cold wind once again.

  “My kingdom is nearby if it is a place to stay you are looking for.”

  Kingdom?

  “Besides we have a medic there who can help treat your wound.”

  “O-Okay.” I blushed slightly at his generosity, forgetting the previous comment.

  He moved to pick up the creature from the ground, hoisting it over his shoulder.

  “What is that thing?” I inquired.

  “Oh, this? It’s a cipheron. A beast native to this land.”

  “Why did it attack me?” I asked.

  “The months leading up to winter are hard for all of us. Even for this beast.”

  I nodded and blushed slightly at my ignorance.

  I followed Damon through a small path in the forest, stepping closely behind him, as he held branches and other objects away as I passed.

  “So, where are we?” I questioned.

  “Well… by the looks of the forest, you were near Kocala river when I found you. We are heading north towards Hollow Territory now.”

  Maybe it was the river I heard crashing instead of the stream. Though I have never heard of Kocala River.

  I shook the questions from my mind. As time passed, Damon and I grew silent and the noises of the forest made themselves known unlike before. Crickets chirped, the birds flew to and from the tall trees, and our footsteps crunched on the fallen leaves. But despite this, tranquility was all my mind could think of. A sense of calm and peace washed over me, and my body seemed to relax as we continued to walk.

  Usually when I walked in a dark forest like this, I would be scared of what hid in the darkness but there was such a peaceful aura I couldn’t seem to worry about anything at all.

  “Lady Journey?” Damon called.

  I focused m
y attention to him, and I saw in the distance what looked like a large stone wall.

  This must be the town he was talking about.

  As Damon led me out of the roofed forest, I stood in awe at the sight before me.

  Though run-down, the stone wall had a timeless look about it, and while patches of stones were missing and the support beams were old and rotten, the wall went full length around the outskirts of the town, connecting to the steep hills many yards away.

  The sound of a creaking winch pulled my attention to the gate. The heavy metal chains pulled the large wooden gate up, digging into the already splintered wood.

  Damon took my hand and ushered me inside of the worn- down town. I could hear the gate close behind us, but what was before me grabbed my focus more.

  Making a pathway over the creek that ran along the entrance, a bridge led to the small town before us. The cobbled streets ran throughout the town, covered with fallen leaves from the trees that covered the area. Adding pops of color to the earthly tones, flowers in blossom covered vines that hung down from the trees. The fresh air was mixed with mist and fog, and the smell of humidity filled my nose from the small creek flowing underneath the bridge. The water trickled and completed the peaceful feeling that washed over me once again, maybe even more so than before.

  Damon chuckled from beside me, “Welcome to Secret Hollow.

  ~2~

  THE ONLY WAY to describe the medieval town was like something ripped from the pages of a fairytale book.

  It was worn and old, but the way the vines hung down along the dimly lit paths and fireflies buzzing around made it enchantingly beautiful.

  “It isn’t much but we love it all the same.” Damon spoke softly from beside me.

  I looked up and met his sparkling, lapis eyes, “From what I have seen I think it is beautiful. It may be worn and broken, but it has so much love put into it.”

  Before Damon could speak a man’s voice interrupted us from the darkness of the path, “Damon!”

  “Hello, August.” Damon said with a small smile, but clearly annoyed by the interruption.