10. Faces From The Present [II]


Peter felt the connection break, along with his heart when he saw the wetness in his brother’s eyes. Even after all that time, after fighting, feeling the worst physical pain that there ever could be, he still was utterly in love with her.

“What happened?” Phillip stared into space as he spoke, groping the air instead of the shoe he no longer held.

Peter knelt and picked up the dainty object.

“If you mean ‘why did it stop?’ Well, the shoe was probably acting as a go-between you and Aidelle (not that I know where she is now) and seeing as you dropped it-” he waved the shoe in front of Phillip’s face, “-You must have broken the connection.”

He paused and put a hand to the tree, but, as Peter felt the wave of power and felt himself go under again, he controlled the connection with his mind. He saw the girl, Aidelle it must have been, slumbering uneasily, but the other girl was nowhere to be seen.

Letting the connection slip from his mind, Peter returned his focus back onto his brother, moving now, but still in low spirits.

“Come on, Phillip, I think we’ve done enough ‘investigating’ for tonight. Go home, sleep on it, and everything will be so much better in the morning.”

Slowly, Phillip turned to him.

“Don’t be so patronizing, Peter, please; you it can’t believe it will be so.”

“Okay, then. But at least find it within you to get away from this ‘graveyard’.”

As far as he could see, Peter started leading Phillip back through the house’s wreckage, the latter making no reasonable effort to drag himself away.

“But, Aidelle is not dead,” he told himself, deep in terrible thought of the great images he had seen.

His heart told him the impossible: that she was alive here, in amongst the rubble, whilst his mind told him that, if she were alive, she would not be wasting her time with past acquaintances. How could she be in the house, built so perfectly, when it was naught but rubble here? Once again, head defied heart; if she was here at the place, then she could not possibly be living in amongst it.

Why the not-so-ghostly images of her then? She had acknowledged the way he had looked at her, just like in the days when they had been together. She had clasped her hands to his so lovingly.

“Or is she?”

Once they were beyond the border of the house, it was as though the sky was getting steadily lighter. Midnight black became a deep, optimistic navy, and the moon was once again a beacon of light to show the men their way.

When they reached a nearby taxi-stop across the empty grassland, and sat down to wait, Phillip finally felt that he no longer needed his brother’s physical support.

“Where is she, Peter?” He asked, trying to avoid slumping against the shelter’s metal frame, “What happened and how could we see her?”

Peter shrugged uncomfortably.

“I don’t know. I can’t remember what I said; it was as though I was in a trance.”

“Do you… Do you think (as I do) that Aidelle is wanting after me somewhere, just like I am after her? How could it be, Peter?”

“I know nothing, brother. I’m sorry. I’m sure there are people we can talk to…”

“There are?” Surprise was evident in Phillip’s voice. He was very old-fashioned when it came to things like that; the complete opposite of his younger brother.

“In fact, I think I know someone.”

The End

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