"Forgotten Powers...a beginning!" by Kathryn E. Castle

Midnight with my memories

Bathed in the night

A street lamp my only illumination

My only light

Lost in this lonely world

Nobody knows the pain

Agony tore me from myself

Fear drove me insane

In my darkest hours

Black thoughts ran through my head

Cold dreams invaded broken sleep

I tossed and turned in bed

Still nobody was my aid

I was caught and trapped in strife

So alone I wandered in delirium

Through a death trap of a life

Those were times of terror

I put them far behind

Locked them behind closed doors

The furthest corners of my mind

Stored them in my heart

Bitter remnants of love

You already stole my heart and soul

Is that still not enough?

Trust's a thing for me no more

Love's just a harsh game

Don't sacrifice yourself

You'll never be the same.

I'll keep myself to myself now

My life is my mine alone

I'm an iceberg in a desert

I'm stuck to the same song…

My life is ripped

My life is torn

My life is stained

My life is worn.

My life is imperfect

But my life burns bright

Never again will you harm me.

Alone I shall be all right…

Kat 2001

So, I suppose since you're reading this you don't know who I am. Not many people who know me would come up and just start talking to me anymore. And yeah, I know what you're thinking. You're thinking 'Gosh she must be unpopular' or ugly, or nasty. But I'm not any of those things - at least, I hope I'm not. I'm simply lonely, and don't I just know it. I used to avoid this fact because it was so awful for me, but now I can admit quite easily, because I am happy being this way, and it is my own fault that I am like this.

I keep but a few friends…the only ones who have stuck around for all of my remembered life. That includes my best friend, who isn't even human.

She's a Maaja. You probably won't understand what I mean by the word 'Maaja' either. I'll fill you in. A Maaja - pronounced Mah-jah - is an animal that lives on my planet, and an intelligent creature at that. They come in about a dozen types, and by that I mean magical Elementals, not breeds. I never remember all the Maaja breeds, but you can get all the basic types, such as fire, water and air, as well as some rarer ones, like crystal. To describe them simply in a way you'd understand I'd have to say they look fairly alike to wolves…only, they have amazing eyes that gleam like jewels, and really long tails that end with a fork. The type of tail a Maaja has depends on its magical type.

Lheia is a plant Maaja. This means she is a pleasant green colour, fairly gentle, protective, a vegetarian and a bit of a smartass. Although the recollection is foggy, I think I found her when I was about five, and was out, alone as usual. Anyway, I came across a little Maaja pup that had broken her leg, and she asked me for help - she was so cute I couldn't resist. When she stuck around after her leg was healed I knew we'd be friends for life and I was correct - now we're a brilliant fighting-duo and best mates.

However, by now you're gonna be asking 'What the hell is this girl on about?' - you're probably gonna be thinking I'm nuts. Maybe I am. I mean, here I am, telling you about my best friend who's a Maaja, and how lonely I am, when I haven't even mentioned my name. I also mentioned Base a few times. You won't know what that is either. So I'm going to explain it all. It might take a while, and maybe you don't want to listen, but I have to talk. I want someone to pass my saga onto when I die. I'm not pessimistic or neurotic, but it seems everywhere I go these days, every way I turn there's someone or something out to get me.

I'm not lying.

Thing is, I'm living in a world where fairy tales originate from. I'm not talking about the ones that end in Happily Ever After. I mean ones like the Dark Crown and Polopois. Maybe you haven't heard them…I'll have to tell you them sometime, though you might not want to know. They aren't for the sensitive, and not in a million years would you tell your kids one at bedtime! Anyway, I'm side tracking. Been doing too much of that lately…so I'll continue.

Mine is a world where existence is fleeting. Possibly I'm lucky to have survived until my seventeenth birthday. But, then again, no one was out to get me before that. Don't get me wrong, I have an otherwise happy life. I'm smart enough, I'm strong enough to survive with my kind of lifestyle - I'm a fighter, an organiser, and an utter bitch at times - traits that help a lot. I can express myself through art and music. Everything could be more than perfect. I could wander off and become a pop star - it wouldn't be hard - because we don't have many of them. They all get assassinated. Perhaps I could have gone to stage school and acted. But I didn't. I'm not that kind of person.

All I want to do is fight, which sounds terrible, doesn't it? Well, it's not a playground fight I'm after, or a meaningless fight. I'm no alcohol-abuser out to mess someone up. I want to fight against evil, especially since the increase lately. Everyone's been turned against each other - one Base against another. At first I thought it was another of those terrible governments' fault, but it wasn't (surprisingly). It's a lot more serious.

You see; there's this woman called Golda and she's- well, I shan't start in the middle. I'm going to tell you the whole story, everything that's been, is being, and is still to come. Since it's not happening to you, you may find it fairly interesting. Maybe not. Though if you don't, then why don't you just quit now and put the book down?!

I guess, for a regular lonely girl, I have what you people would call an exciting life* - the kind of life you have in your movies, the one every girl wants because the handsome protagonist always comes and saves her. Ha! Catch me letting Tempest save me! He's not even the main character!

Oops, I'm getting ahead of myself. Look, I've written enough of an 'introduction' now haven't I? I'm going to start the story. And - What?

My name?

Oh yes…my name is

Pasharra Jodain.

• Only, I wouldn't call it exciting - I'd prefer 'terrifying'. In fact, I'd happily swap it for a life growing beans on a little plantation in Maigee! So there!

So…in that sense, I'm not at all sure why I joined a military academy. Which, of course, is what Base is. There's not much to it really. The educational division teaches, the magic section summons and me, loyally training in the military third, waits for my chance to fight. I don't have long to anticipate now. My chance is, in fact, tonight - at the Mission Exam.

Now, before I go any further, I must set a few facts straight. The first is about Initiation Exams. These are freely entered into by willing candidates from the Military or Magic schools. The earliest age that one can submit themselves is seventeen winters. These tests comprise of three separate aspects - written, field, and mission - and govern your future in Base. I think Written explains itself, but Field and Mission are a little more complex. The former consists of a puzzle, which must be cracked to proceed, usually set and created by a tactful instructor, preceding a battle. The latter, however, is a real-life situation that everyone has to resolve through teamwork and tact. Under the watchful eyes of our elders and betters, we try to sort out the problem. For example, once there was a gang of thugs, plaguing Holouway Town. The instructors and their students were sent to deal with it.

Sounds dangerous? It's not really. Our instructors are professionals and - most of them - are very careful. Students are properly looked after as the instructor remains with them at all times to observe them, set them tasks and take their marks. Louella says there are very few incidences of life losses in missions, and none of complete failure to succeed. She should know too, seeing as she is the Vice Headmistress of Holouway Base…

So there you go - that's the reason why Missions only occur every few months. You can't go larking off to fight and test if there's no enemy or plot to attack. No fights mean no marks. And no marks mean no initiations. Perhaps the rare incident of mission-worthy happenings is the cause of my being allowed to join in with this batch of students ahead of my 17^th birthday. Um, or maybe it's just me. Considering I have been here a long time…coming up to eight years come fall - doesn't time fly? Isn't life all too short? These days I hardly even have to time to reminisce on what was. And even when I get a break, reality is always there to deal me a swift crushing blow and I remember that the good times are over…

You know what? I remember those happy couple of early-teen years past as though they were yesterday. It doesn’t make me feel smile anymore though. I get angry. I feel bitter. Nothing helps. I just feel so lonely. No matter what people say, no matter what they do, I don't think they could ever turn me back around from the path I've strayed on to. There's this little dark space inside me that I don't think anybody could fill, however fond I was of them…because it was caused by someone I cared about - I lot. His name was Dinato. Since we split (or to be universally correct, he split), I haven't once stopped hoping that our paths would cross again. He could do with a dose of his own medicine. I'm not a naïve little child any more.

It's that annoyance and abhorrence of him and guys alike that makes me so cold and even cruel towards them. I earned my nickname - the Ice Maiden - with a due cause, and a little pang of guilt. But everyone gives me a wide berth, and for that I'm glad. I'm not one to be messed with.

Grace tells me I'm stupid - perhaps I am. She's my better in so many ways, I expect she knows best. But I don't want to be hurt again. It's better like this. When I say that, she tuts and says I'm a silly immature girl…and I laugh.

Grace is our headmistress - she has the highest rank in our Base, second to none, not even the Champion. Everyone likes her. She's almost too calm and resourceful and even intimidating. Her cool blue-grey eyes spell t-r-o-u-b-l-e if you make her angry and her silvery-brown hair (which is silvery because it's going grey) picks up ethereal glints in the sunlight. She's reaching about forty-five years of age now and considering her knackering years fighting, and working her way to the top, she's beginning to look it. Don't get me wrong thought - she isn't losing her edge by a long shot yet. She's still top dog, and hell, I hope she will be for a long time to come! This place hasn't known better for centuries.

Even our current Crest - which is awarded to the lucky students who manage to beat the exams with marks above than the passing grade - was designed by Grace. It depicts a leaping Maaja, with it's pointed tail entwined with that of a small red dragon, its slanting eyes picked out in fine gold leaf. If I pass my exams, I'll be the extremely proud owner of one, and also pick up the title of Baccabe. Of course, a Crest's purpose isn't just to look pretty - they are an identification system, each one unique to their relevant Base, and used when visiting foreign countries. Really a precaution, a reminder of older, tougher times full of raging civil war and bloodshed. For today Base is known as a symbol of peace, and its members - the Baccabe, messengers to keep that tranquillity. Each Base is assigned towns and provinces to protect, and that we do with all our power. But it takes a lot of work to do so, and the price is high. Louella's mother died fighting against a rebel faction who sought to overthrow us. Luckily, they failed, but I can recall the scenes from my childhood, wandering around sombrely, with only the sound of Lou's broken sobs to fill the black silence.

I thought those times had passed, that we humans were civil and clever enough to find a way around the petty disagreements. I grew attached to peace, even though I was never accustomed to it - that was a seldom-granted wish. My life was never smooth road. From the times my mother and father whose faces I barely remember would shout and scream at each other until their voices became raw, when they'd hurt me to hurt each other…through the bullying and fights I endured and joined into in the orphanage. Then to the terrible things that happened at Base, and I read in the newspapers…yeah, things were no easy ride here.

All I hoped was that I’d seen the last of it. I nearly kidded myself! But, guess what, something's making a comeback - something not good. And I find myself caught up in a way I've never experienced before, in the whirl and tumult of black, grey and red that is war.

Where this tale begins is argued over, but for me it starts a several months - half a year at most - back. I hadn't been sleeping well, but that night when events were set into motion, I had a weird dream. It's still there sometimes when I close my eyes.

And…although never before in my life have I had a premonition, I'm still dreadfully afraid that I might have… now…

I shall begin.

I am alone in the dark. There is nothing around me in any direction, which I know instinctively, because of the eerie blankness, and cold that drains the air here. Then quick as a lightning flash, everything (which really should be nothing in this instance?) is illuminated by something resembling sunlight. I am in my room again - the atmosphere replaced seamlessly - and the time is 7:30. My first feeling is panic - I'm so late! I was supposed to be in class half an hour ago! I jump out of bed and run to the door. The corridor outside is deserted, although it's not that strange. I sprint along to the classroom and fling myself in through the door, the long dark coat I'm wearing flapping around my ankles as I stop stone still.

There's no one here.

First I think oh no, I'm so late that they've already finished the lesson! Then I realise that something weird is going on. For a start - where was Lheia, and why was there nobody around at all? Why was it completely utterly silent? Why am I already fully dressed? The floor begins to judder and shake violently under my feet. I try to leap away, using my natural reflexes, but all at once, everything melts, and I fall... Not very far, granted, but where I land is as un-classroom-like as possible. It looks like my idea of Hell would be, if I believed in Hell, that is. Red-gold flames dance to my left and my right and behind me like cavorting demons, leaping up to lick at the fire-tinted rocks. I seem to have landed on a narrow ledge. So I pick myself up and begin to walk along the ridge.

Then I slip. I fall. I slide down the edge of the ledge (ooh, that rhymes) and towards the flames, when suddenly they part…Puzzled as I fall, I drop through them into a strange circle of stone, landing slightly painfully on my face. I look up, and suddenly click that I'm safe and the fire cannot follow me inside this odd ring. A flood of realistic relief flows over me.

And in that moment I realise that I'm not alone. There is a girl here with me too. Through a wreath of shadows cast by the leaping flames overhead, I behold her face and catch my breath. She's older than I am, maybe about twenty, but she seriously reminds me of, well, myself. We have the same silky spill of flaming golden-orange hair, only hers holds more a wheat-blonde tint. We're of the same built - medium height, and lithe, with cat-like cheekbones and blazing eyes. Hers are of the most intense azure, as brilliant as sapphires in the flickering unstable glow. And although her face is a mask of writhing darkness, she is so clear in my vision.

As she reaches me - looking up hesitantly from my landing place on the cold rock floor - she takes my arm in a strong firm grip, and pulls me to my feet, her eyes boring into me inquisitively. "Are you ok?"

"Yes." That's my reply. I can't think of anything else to say. This woman's beauty is almost extraterrestrial and her voice lilts like running water, with a hint of danger in it. A smile curves along her full lips.

"Be careful or the currents may drag you in, Pasha."

"WHAT?!" I cry in astonishment. I know she has to be clairvoyant now, my common sense tells me so. But - how could she pick up my name from my thoughts too, I wasn't thinking of it. Is it something to do with the Subconscious? I certainly hope so.

"Have we met?" I inquire, my heart racing in my chest because this freaks me out.

"Yes, but no." she smiles mystifyingly "Do you mean in reality or in your imagination?"

I have only one reply to this.

"Who are you?" I am irritated to hear a slight edge of fear creep into my voice.

"The family you never had, the missing piece to the jigsaw puzzle, the link you want to break."

She begins to walk away.

"Don't go!" I call, intrigued. I don't understand. I want to ask her so much more. She turns back, her eyes narrowed and highlighted with thousands of hues of blues and mauves that blink back the flame-light.

"I'm not going anywhere, Pasha." She tells me serenely, " I'm preparing myself."

This is when a huge dragon crashes through the wall, sending boulders the size of me flying like feathers. Dragons, in my opinion, are superb creatures. Most of them aren't the evil, greedy fire-breathers that everyone makes out they are, but this one obviously is. Melting from the fire like lava in live form, it growls and the snarl reverberates around the confined area. The eyes are half-hidden by markings on its face, like a crimson mask of blood. It's like even the monsters in this place don't want me to know their identity. There are spikes along its back and down its powerful orange tail, which ends in a fork, as a Maaja's would. It flicks it impatiently from side to side, wanting so badly to pounce. It can see us; it's staring me in the eyes with its evil hooded eyes that say 'prepare to die'.

All my confidence I lost when I was talking to mystery-girl comes flooding back in a tsunami of adrenaline. I love fighting; I live to fight. I'm one of the best of my year surely and practically indestructible with my Wired Sword in my hand. The lady takes out a blue bow, and a set of arrows. Magical - enriched with ice spells almost undoubtedly. They'll cause a fire dragon a lot more pain than my Sword, but the influenced blade is faster and most deadly and will always hit. As I draw it, the contrast of shadows and light play over the sunshine-yellow metal.

I watch the dragon, waiting for any sign of an attack. Just a bunching of the muscles, or flicker behind the eyes - that's all the warning I need. What happens completely throws me. It turns its head to the left and breathes flames all around the stone walls. They all catch fire immediately. Not tiny puffy sparks, but real flames. Like the walls are made of cardboard soaked in petroleum. The flames catch on the ground, roaring towards me. It's too fast! As I watch and wait they encircle me. I can't think why I didn't try running or something. Things don't seem to work like that here. The mystery-girl is to my left, but now the dragon is long gone. …How on earth did it disappear so fast? But, completely unaffected, the unreadable maiden just stands, stock-still. Maybe she's scared, but for some reason it seems unlikely.

"Hey!" I call, above the crackling of the burning flames, cupping my hands around my mouth to emphasise the noise. She swings round to face me and grins a psychotic smile. The kind of smile a warrior makes when she knows they're going to die, so they might as well go out with a bang. She tests this to the limit. White, icy magic explodes outwards from her in curtains of glacial power. It throws me backwards, and hurls me out of my dream. There are little shards of crystal hurtling along with me - they sting as they hit my face and my outstretched arms. I think I'm screaming but I can't be sure. All I can hear is a horrible ghostly echo and the words.