When a time-warp sends Serafina Mathonwy, an average seventeen year old, an amulet that crashes through her window after a strange dream where a guy named Dayvien tells her she can never die, everything changes. Jasmin Bentley, her best friend, mysteriously vanishes, and a guy named Jace Archell shows up at her doorstep demanding to have the amulet, and when she refuses he attacks. So begins her journey, which is when a dragon named Junafir flies her off to Realm Thirty-Nine, a realm of chaos an
“You’re not hearing what I’m saying, Serafina. I told you. You’re indestructible. You can never die.”
“What?! You can’t be serious,” I say, my chin wrinkled with dispair, my eyebrows furrowed in concern. My blue eyes are covered in shiny tears, and face looks pretty much the way I feel, like a helpless puppy.
“Besides,” I add, “You’ve never even told me that.”
“ButSerafina,” Dayvien replies, calling out to me in a haunting voice, a far away echo veiling it in mystique, “Ihave.”
It vibrates through my ears, a darkly serious cacophony, the pure sound of Dayvien’s harsh taunting voice, his lack of sensitivity, his unsympathetic way of telling me what I am.
“What am I supposed to do with all of this time? Just watch myself repeatedly heal for the rest of eternity?”
“Oh, you won’t need to worry about that. It’ll be great. However many times you fail, you can just start over again. Like a video game.”
He obviously has no sense of the value life has, I mean, who compares such a miraculous gift to a video game?
“You’re awful, “I say. “Why would you do this to me? And, fail? What will I possibly be failing at?”
The light at the end of the tunnel glows brightly and then devours Dayvien, and he dissapears within it.
I jolt up, awake.
The most ironic thing is, I don’t know anyone named Dayvien, and the whole thing was just a very sensationally real dream.
My awareness returns to my current surroundings as my eyes collect the visual of my room.
Light shimmers through my sparkling wet windows, the raindrops from the early storm newly fresh on the glass. I plop back over, roll over in bed, and look at my alarm clock. It’s only five fifteen. I never get up that early on Saturdays. Especially during Thanksgiving break.
Pushing away the covers, I get up out of bed.
The window breaks.
“Oh, shit,” I spit out, muffled irritation and fear daunting to my just-woke-up-in-the-morning nerves. I whisk around, my heart beating faster.
Among the shards of glass lying on the ground, there’s a small metal amulet. My heart pounding, as I try to catch my breath, I attempt to dodge the sharp glass on the floor with my feet, finding it a miracle that I don’t get scraped, and reach out to pick up the amulet on the floor.
After I pick it up, I carefully leave the area containing the shards, and sit down cross-legged on my shag tan carpet, examining the ornamentally decorative look to it. There are tiny tooth-like spikes on the edges that are three-dimensional and cone-like, carefully smoothed as not to hurt one who holds the amulet, and the color alternates between a reddish copper and a bright gold as the central circles are aligned in a pattern surrounding one another. In the center, there’s an embedded green emerald pounded into the amulet’s core, forming the shape of a flat diamond on the surface. The design has a sort of angular sturdiness to it.
I hold the amulet’s neckalace by it’s spherical black beads, noticing how smooth and shiny they are. It looks steampunkly mystical. I’m intrigued by it. But after awhile of staring, I put it down on my dresser.
I wonder why that would happen. Was someone trying to give me an early Valentine’s Day gift, or what? I mean, they could have had least had the nerve to wrap it up or something, and deliver it to my door. Gosh. How strange.
I slip into my fuzzy blue slippers, making my way downstairs for an early breakfast. Oddly enough, my mother’s already up and cooking scrambled eggs.
As she pours the raw eggs into the pan, I sit down.
“G’morning,” I say. “You’re up early. Any reason?”
“Just couldn’t get back to sleep after some huge shattering sound woke me up this morning. By the way, it seemed to be coming from your room. Any reason?”
“Ya,” I say, “someone threw something through the window.”