Six Fallen Souls

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           Later in the day, Dawn followed her mother down a gravel path toward a large, stone and wooden structure.  The sun was high in the sky.  Its heat had taken a toll on the child, claiming a lot of energy from her during the trip there.  She followed a few yards behind Kirrah, beads of sweat forming on her face.  Yet she either didn’t seem to notice the heat or didn’t seem bothered by it.  Dawn kept her attention ahead, occasionally glancing down at the new, favorite rock she held in her hands.  She lagged behind more than intended the next time she looked at the piece of granite.

           “Dawn, come along,” called Kirrah.  She looked up suddenly and walked faster to catch up as her mom slowed to wait.  Kirrah offered Dawn a hand and led her the rest of the way.  When they stopped at the home’s wooden door, the lady reached up to give a couple hard knocks.  Dawn stood quietly at her side, still holding her hand.  An unlatching sound came from the other side and the door opened.  There was a lady with a plain, grey dress standing there.  She had a yellow sash around her waist and a matching color ribbon in her blonde hair, despite its short length.  Dawn observed the other lady closely.

           The woman smiled and greeted Kirrah.  “Kirrah Emmerra!?  It’s been forever!”

           Kirrah rolled her eyes.  “It’s been only six months.”

           “Is this Dawn?!  She’s getting so big so fast!  I hardly recognize her!”  She waved at Dawn, who slowly waved back with a slight smile.

           “It’s good to see you Adila,” Kirrah said.

           “You better mean that,” Adila replied.

           Kirrah smirked.  “Yes, I do.”

           The lady smiled.  “Well then, what brings you all the way over here?”

           “I have begun to teach my daughter about magic.”

           “And Dustan let you?”  Kirrah nodded.  “Hm . . . that’s a new record, I’m sure,” Adila added.  Dawn let go of her mother’s hand to sit down on the gravel path just outside the door.  She began poking at some of the tiny gravel pieces around her.  Some of them had interesting shapes.  “So what trait do you think she’s got?” Adila asked.

           “Most likely patience,” said Kirrah.

           Adila paused to glance down at Dawn a second time.  “Hm . . . yeah.  You might be right.  Most kids whine and fuss about following their parents around in the heat.”  Adila motioned toward the girl, who was oblivious to the attention.  “I mean, look.  She’s sweating and hardly bothered.”

           Kirrah glanced back as well and gasped.  “My goodness!  She didn’t say anything!  I hope I haven’t worn her out too much.  Dawn?”  The child looked up to see her mom offering her a hand again.  “Come, we’re going inside to cool off and rest for a while,” Kirrah said.  Dawn reached to take her mom’s hand.  She followed the two ladies inside where they stopped in the front room.  It was much cooler in here.  Kirrah let go of Dawn’s hand again while she and Adila continued their conversation.  Dawn looked around the room with interest, moving toward a bookshelf along the left wall first.

           “Haha, I didn’t mean to distract you from her,” Adila said.

           Kirrah shook her head.  “No, that was my fault.  She’ll be alright.  And . . . do you really think I’m right about the patience thing?”

           Adila nodded.  “Oh yes.”

           “How can you be so sure?”

           “Well . . . I can imagine it would require a great deal of patience from anyone to live in a place with you and Dustan Emmerra.”  Kirrah glared back a moment.  “Can’t deny it, though,” Adila added.

            Kirrah Emmerra sighed then glanced around.  “Where’s Ellie?” she asked.

            “Oh.  She’s . . . not here.”  Just as the other lady had finished her sentence, a younger woman bolted in from a room on the right, shouting in excitement.

            “It worked!  I just-”  She stopped suddenly, almost tripping on a white cloak she wore.  She managed to catch her balance though and stared in Kirrah’s direction with wide, blue eyes.  Her long, reddish hair was a bit frizzed from the rush down the hall just now.  The lady grinned nervously while she attempted to straighten her skirt and cloak.  “Uh . . . hi, Kirrah.”

           Dawn’s mom stared at the other two ladies.  “What are you two up to?” she asked.  The commotion had got the attention of Dawn as well.

           Adila was the first to speak after a slight pause of silence.  “Ellie Charm has been uh . . . attempting to enhance her magic . . . so it will be twice as strong, like the power of two humans.”

           Kirrah stared at the younger lady.  “Why?” she asked.

           “Does it matter?  If we have more potential, why not?” Ellie asked.  She rushed toward Kirrah taking hold of her right hand and lifting it.  “Look!  Make a flame.”  Kirrah sighed.  “Please?” urged Ellie.  Kirrah glanced down at her hand and ignited a red, magic flame just inches from her palm.  Ellie continued.  “Now imagine that flame taking your side against something you wish wasn’t real.”  Kirrah focused on the fire between her fingers.  Dawn moved closer to her mom with curiosity.  She carefully watched the flame the lady held.  The red magic light grew dim for a moment then became brighter as several dark streaks shot through it.  “There!” Ellie said.  “Look!  That’s what I’m talking about!”

            Kirrah scowled and yanked her hand from Ellie’s.  “You’re a fool!” she said.  “I have known this power since the war and it is NOT something that can be controlled!  In fact . . . it should never be used!”  Ellie Charm stepped away, shocked.

           “Told you,” said Adila.

           “But . . .”

           Kirrah held up a hand before Ellie could continue her protest.  “I don’t care what goal you wish to accomplish with it . . . whether it’s good or bad.  Stop pursuing it immediately!”  Dawn hid behind her mother.  She knew by this tone that she was afraid.  And knowing her mother was scared, frightened her as well.

           Ellie frowned.  “I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to cause trouble,” she said.

           Kirrah’s stern expression softened.  She sighed.  “I know.  I did not intend to shout.  But please, take my word for it.  Using that aspect of magic will only destroy.  It will take from you . . . things that you care about . . . people you love.  So please . . . don’t learn to depend on it for strength.”  Ellie nodded slowly.  Kirrah glanced back when she noticed that her daughter had hidden behind her.  She changed subjects.  “I came to ask a favor of you, Ellie.  And as long as you take my warning, the offer is open,” Kirrah said.

           “Um . . . what offer?” Ellie asked.

           Kirrah motioned Dawn to come out.  “I’m starting to teach Dawn magic.  I believe she has the trait of patience.  So I brought her here . . . knowing you have the same.  I was hoping you can help her faster than I can . . . and guide her in the right direction of its use,” Kirrah said.

           The red-haired young lady glanced down at Dawn, who gave her a smile.  “I would like to . . . if you don’t mind trusting me with your daughter,” she said.

           “I do not mind.  Just be content with the power your magic already gives you.  What day would work for me to bring her by again?” said Kirrah.

           “Uh . . .”  Ellie glanced to her left toward Adila.

           “Two days,” she answered for her.

           Kirrah nodded.  “I will return then.  Good day.”  She took Dawn’s hand and started for the door.  Dawn waved bye as they left and shut the door behind them.  After they had gone, Ellie faced Adila and stared.

           The lady sighed.  “What?” she asked.

           “What was Kirrah talking about?  I didn’t know she knew anything of . . .”

           Adila stopped Ellie before she could finish.  “Kirrah made some bad decisions during the war.  Fortunately you weren’t there to see most of their consequences.  But you saw how it ended.  When she said that it takes people you love . . . Vydren . . . it took Vydren from her,” said Adila.  “It twisted that poor creature into a mindless being with no will of its own.  And it drove him to slaughter many . . . many others.”

           Ellie gasped and slowly lifted a hand to cover her open mouth.  “The dragon,” she said.

           Adila nodded.  “The dragon.”

           In the morning, Dawn opened her bedroom door, yawning as she left her room.  The child wandered into the dining room, following the smell of food almost by complete instinct.  She stopped in the doorway when she saw her mom and dad sitting at the table together.  They were talking quietly while casually sipping from cups of tea.  Dawn stood in the room’s entrance, watching to see if either would get upset.

           “She’s a smart, little girl,” said Dustan.  “Maybe even smarter than both of us in some ways.”

           Kirrah nodded.  “I told her I would put in effort to . . . not be so . . . stubborn.  So, that’s what I’m doing.  I know you and I reluctantly agreed that teaching her now is alright but . . . if you still think it is not a good idea . . . I won’t do it yet,” Kirrah said.

           Dustan stared back at her a moment before replying.  “I . . . don’t know what to say.  Do you really mean that?” he asked.

           Kirrah nodded.  “Yes.”

           Dustan glanced down at his cup to think.  “Well . . . thank you for being willing to consider my opinion.  But . . . you are right, Kirrah.  It would probably be better to start now.”  Dustan looked up at his wife and smiled.  “If it becomes like just another part of life to her . . . something she has been learning since she can remember . . . it’ll make it much easier for her to understand as she grows up,” he said.

           Kirrah nodded.  “I’m glad you see that.”

           “I must admit that I . . . never did have your sort of drive to learn magic.  I want to go out and do it just like that . . . and hope it happens.”

           Kirrah smirked.  “And that’s why you aren’t a determined soul.”

           Dawn finally decided it was safe to enter the dining room.  She went toward her mom.  “I’m hungry,” she said.

           Kirrah looked down just as the small child reached the wooden chair she sat on.  “Good morning, Dawn.”  The lady reached down to pick her up and set her on her lap, where the girl could reach a muffin that sat on the plate in front of them.  Dawn reached to take it in both her hands.  “Are you ready to learn some more today?” Kirrah asked.  Dawn bit into the muffin and nodded.  “We’re going to learn what color magic you can use,” said Kirrah.  “Sound good?”  The girl nodded again.  “Alright then.  We’ll go back to the field after you’re done eating, okay?”

          Dawn replied with her mouth full.  “Okay.”

          Later in the day, Dawn reached down to pick up a sparkling rock from between the tall grasses around her.  “Dawn,” her mom called.  The girl reluctantly tore her eyes away from the interesting igneous she held.  Kirrah was kneeling in front of her.  “That’s a nice rock.  It’s called granite.  Can you say granite?” she said.

           Dawn glanced down at the sparkles in the rock, staring unnecessarily hard.  “Grant . . . niet . . .” she mumbled.

           Kirrah smirked.  “Close enough.  Dawn, put it away.  I want to ask you something,” she said.  The girl hesitated but slowly put the rock in a pocket of the long, dark skirt she was wearing.  She stood, peering back at her mother to hear what she was going to say.  “I’m going to help you learn what kind of magic you’ll be best at.  So you have to answer my questions the best you can,” said Kirrah.

           “Okay.”

           “Hm . . . let’s see.  Magic sort of works along with a wish.  So . . . when mommy makes a red arrow . . . I wish for something very specific.”

           “A arrow?” Dawn asked.

           Her mom shook her head.  “No . . . but that's not a bad guess.  I wish . . . to harm any bad guys and keep people safe,” she said.  “So, Dawn . . . if you could wish for something . . . anything in the world . . . what would you wish for?” Kirrah asked.

           Dawn smiled.  “Diamins!” she said.

           Kirrah hardly managed to contain her laughter.  “A diamond is a lovely thing to wish for . . . but try to be serious.  You can wish for anything,” she said.

           Dawn glanced down with a more thoughtful look this time.  She began an attempt to express an idea she found to be much more complicated.  So it came out in half statements and broken words.  “Wish . . . you to daddy . . . and . . . na . . . not . . . no . . . to stop . . . and . . . can wait for things.”  Dawn stared back at her mother, moving her mouth a little as she tried to continue but wasn’t sure what to add or how to say it if she knew.

           Kirrah wasn’t exactly sure what her daughter was trying to say with all that, but a few words stood out to her.  “Stop . . . and wait . . .” she whispered.  “Uh . . . Dawn, let’s see if this helps.  Pretend you meet another child who is a little older than you, okay?”  Dawn nodded.  “And pretend he takes your rock away.  What would you do?” Kirrah asked.

           Dawn frowned at the thought of losing the sparkly rock she had found.  She replied slowly.  “Wait . . . him to give back,” she said.

           Dawn and her mother returned to a small house with a collection of colored flowers growing near the entrance.  A few other structures of a nearby town could be seen in the distance with a sparse assortment of trees scattered around it.

           A man opened the door and stepped out to greet them.  His hair was short and brown, his eyes blueish green.  “You’re back,” he said.

           “Yes, Dustan,” said the lady.

           “Daddy!” Dawn said.

           The man was in casual attire and gave the lady a hug before waving at Dawn.  “Hello.  How’s my little girl?” he asked.

           Dawn bounced up and down on the gravel path in front of the open door.  She was smiling.  “Mommy showed me pretty colors!” she said.

           Dustan smiled and knelt down to look back at eye level.  “Did she?” he said.

           Dawn nodded again.  “I learn to make too.”

           “Uh . . . hah . . . Dawn,” the woman said.

           Her husband glanced up.  “Are you teaching her now, Kirrah?” he asked.

           “Well . . .”

           Dustan looked back at his daughter.  “Dawn, go on inside.  We’ll be in soon,” he said.  The girl’s smile had faded.  She nodded and went into the home, pushing the door shut behind her.  She stopped, leaving the door open a crack to peek through as she listened to the following conversation.

           “Children are fast learners, Dustan.  She will learn more if we start teaching her now,” said Kirrah.

           Dustan gave a half-hearted laugh.  “‘We?’  I had no say in this,” he said.  “I said ‘we’ should wait until she’s seven at least.  She’s only three years old.  She just recently figured out how to speak in sentences and you want to start guiding her with magic?”

           “You’re being unreasonable,” Kirrah replied.

           “I am?  You’re the one who . . . went out there and started teaching her this stuff after I said no.  I thought ‘we’ were in agreement.”

           The lady shook her head.  “Honestly . . . when are we ever in agreement?”

           “Rarely.  Because you’re stubborn.”

           Kirrah nodded.  “The same can be said for you,” she said.  Dawn listened, expressionless.  Yet she could feel her heart racing as the conversation quickly turned into an argument.

           Dustan stared a moment.  “Why?” he asked.  “What are you trying to prove by teaching Dawn now?”

           “That I’m right,” Kirrah said.  “Look.  I didn’t start learning magic at a young age, and look how long it took me to learn red magic.”  Dustan was shaking his head before she even finished.  Kirrah raised her voice with the next sentence.  “I know from experience!”

           “I don’t care!  That isn’t the problem!” Dustan shouted back.  Dawn took a step away a step from the door.  She was trembling.  “The issue is that you hardly do anything I say, Kirrah!”

           “And you don’t listen to me!” Kirrah said.  Dawn slowly retreated from the door as her parents’ shouting continued.

           “Well, one of us is going to have to decide to do something right for once!” Dustan said.

           Kirrah’s voice replied sternly.  “Yes, I agree.  You do it.  You’re supposed to be the example!”

           Dustan growled in frustration.  “I am trying but you aren’t making it any easier!” he said.  Dawn finally turned and ran to the back of the home, where she entered her small bedroom.  She shut the door behind her to try blocking out the angry voices.  But the effort turned out to be pointless.  She could still hear them.  The little girl sat down on her bed and sighed.  She knew this happened a lot but she wished it didn’t.  She didn’t understand why they were often upset and was usually worried she had done something wrong without realizing it.  Dawn frowned, lowered her head, and covered her ears.

           After the sun had set and the sky had gone dark, Kirrah put Dawn to bed.  She helped her get comfortable under the blankets then paused to observe the look on her daughter’s face.  Kirrah sighed.  “You look so sleepy,” she said.  Dawn nodded.  She was.  She was completely exhausted.  “Well, get some sleep and tomorrow I can explain more about magic,” said her mother.

           Dawn peered up from where she lay.  “Don’t want to,” the girl mumbled.

           “You don’t want to learn magic now?” asked Kirrah.  Dawn shook her head slowly.  “Why not?”  The girl didn’t respond.  Kirrah stared back at her child for a moment before she realized what had probably happened.  “Is it because mommy and daddy got upset?” she asked.  Dawn took a moment before nodding in response.  “Well, you don’t need to worry about that now.  We worked it out.  So it’s okay.”

           “You won’t . . . be mad?” Dawn asked.

           Kirrah shook her head.  “No, we won’t be mad if you learn,” she said.

           “Anymore?” said Dawn.

           Kirrah sighed and sat down on the bed beside her sleepy child.  “Well . . . sometimes people get upset at each other and fight.  And even if we hope we don’t . . . it can still happen again.”

           “You can be nicer,” said Dawn.

           Kirrah nodded.  “Yes, but daddy can be nicer too.”

           “Both are happy?”

           Kirrah stared then glanced away and ran a hand through her long, dark hair.  “Mommy and daddy’s relationship is . . . complicated.  It’s hard to explain.  We . . . put up with each other and . . . sometimes we do better at it . . . and sometimes we don’t.”

           “You fight a lot,” said Dawn.

           Kirrah sighed.  “It doesn’t take a lot of sense to know that.”

           “Please . . . don’t fight.”

           Kirrah stared down at her daughter’s worried expression.  After a moment, she spoke again.  “How about this?  If mommy tries harder to be nice . . . will you let me teach you more?”  Dawn finally smiled and nodded in agreement.  Kirrah smiled too.  “Then I will try, okay?”  She stood and started for the door.  “Get some sleep,” she said.  Kirrah stopped in the doorway to look back.  “Goodnight, Dawn.”

           Warm light from a bright sun shone across a wide field as a woman led her small child through the grass.  The lady wore a red and black cloak over a dark green dress.  She had long, black hair.  She led her three-year old daughter by the hand with a smile.  She glanced down often to make sure the girl was still able to keep up and wasn’t having trouble making her way through the grass.

           “Come along, Dawn.  Quickly,” said the mother.  “I want to show you something.”  The woman took a few steps more and slowed.  She let go of her daughter’s small hand.  “Stay here, alright?”  Dawn nodded as a soft breeze blew over the field and through her dark hair.  She sat down in the grass.  The skirt of her blue and green dress spread out on the ground around her.  Her mom nodded.  “Good.  Now watch.”  The lady took a few steps away from Dawn then paused a moment.  She raised her hands, a red energy swirling between her fingers.  The light took form as a bow as the woman drew back the string with an arrow in her other hand.  She pointed straight into the blue sky and released the string.

           Dawn watched as an arrow shot up then exploded with brilliant red streaks and twinkling lights high overhead.  Her brown eyes widened and mouth dropped open.  She stood up, utterly impressed by the sight.  “Mommy,” Dawn called.

           The woman turned around at her daughter’s call.  “Yes, Dawn?”

           The girl approached her mom slowly, her eyes still staring at the sky, even though the arrow was long gone.  “How you do that?” Dawn asked.

           Her mother smiled and knelt down to get the girl’s full attention.  “Well . . . I’d like to teach you how to do something special too . . . if you want.  How does that sound?  Does that sound good?”

           Dawn smiled and nodded as excitement came over her.  “Yes!”

           Her mom motioned her to sit again.  “Okay, calm down . . . and we’ll begin.”  Dawn sat down and her mother sat in the grass in front of her.  The girl listened carefully as her mom began to explain this power.

           “We call it magic, Dawn . . . for lack of a better name.  Our world is full of many things we don’t fully understand . . . but strive to.  Our world is a place that consists of both men . . . and monsters.  For a while, they both lived in harmony.  They would help each other and support each other as each grew and learned.  The monsters were often frightening in appearance but kind in heart.  Their bodies weren’t physical like ours.  They consisted of magic . . . a reflection of their souls.”

           “We were curious to know more about their magic and their abilities.  So over time . . . a group effort was made and we joined forces with the monsters.  It opened a new perspective of the world between our kinds.  A city was founded . . . a city named Omarion.  That city symbolized the peace and cooperation between monsters and humans.  And those that lived there were taught by the monsters . . . taught to discover a power within them.  But this power . . . this magic took generations to learn and grasp.  Because monster magic does not work the same as ours.  Their magic comes in a more natural, expressive way.  And each had a special set of abilities and patterns that were unique to them.  But our magic . . . was different.”

           “You see . . . human magic comes from our souls as well, but it is driven by one of seven traits.  Each person has a unique personality . . . and that personality forms over time.  Eventually one of the seven traits will take dominance over the other six and at that point . . . we have the ability to better focus our efforts and learn this power.  The seven traits are . . . kindness, justice, integrity, perseverance, patience, bravery, and determination.  Each of these traits fuel a different color of magic . . . green, yellow, blue, purple, cyan, orange, and red.  And each color of magic has special abilities.”