Saturday, April 9, 2011

01. Introduction

The Pontiac swerved as its tires hit the gravel-ridden shoulder of the country highway.

James Landwell swore under his breath and corrected his course with a light turn of the steering wheel.  "Sorry," he said to the woman sitting next to him, "it's been a long day, I guess."  His voice was even and his tone unconcerned, though his day had been anything but normal.  The woman just nodded.

She was an enigma, to say the least.  She was tall for a woman, with platinum blonde--almost white--hair, and a blank, almost vacant expression on her simple but strangely drawing face.  Were it not for the way she periodically answered his questions with a cutting, powerful tone, James wouldn't have been sure that she wasn't some sort of high-functioning autistic.

"I know this road."  James said, almost to himself.  "It just goes up to The Point and dead ends.  Are you sure this is the right way?"

She nodded once more.  It was a curt movement, more along the lines of an inclination of the head.  "Yes, I am sure.  Thank you for your concern."

So formal, he noted as he gave her a sideways glance, impeccably dressed, and posture that wouldn't be out of place in some medieval court.  She wore a long trench coat over what looked to be a striking sapphire dress and heels that made James' calves hurt just by looking at them.  She moved with a quiet grace but spoke with a marked rigidity, as if it made her uncomfortable.  She was odd--but commonplace, somehow.  Had she not approached him, he probably never would have noticed her.  As it now stood, James was sure that he would have a hard time forgetting the mysterious woman.

She had approached him as he was leaving Jennings and Sanderson, the law firm where he had just been made a partner, and informed him that she was in need of assistance.  "You will be handsomely rewarded."  She had said.

James hadn't even given it a second thought.  He had felt somehow. . . compelled to help her.  It wasn't the promise of a reward--such things scarcely mattered to James--it was just as though nothing else had made any sense.  He was starting to have second thoughts now, however, as the eeriness or the woman truly hit him.  A thought occurred.  "I never got your name, miss."

She turned to him, a look of light surprise showing on her otherwise empty visage.  "Meleeah."  Her tone was less cutting this time and more amused.  James couldn't place why that unsettled him, but it did.  "And yours?"

"Ah.  I'm terribly sorry, miss.  I'm usually not one to ask for someone's name without introducing myself.  I'm James."  He had been under the impression that she had already known his name, but how could she have?

She smiled at that, again unsettling James.  "James."  She tried it out.  "It's nice."

"Thanks."  He replied.  Growing up, the nicknames had come and go, never sticking.  His father had made it clear when he was just a boy:  "You," he had said, "are James Allan Landwell, III.  Not Jim, Jimmy, or any other such nonsense."  It had always stuck with him.

They drove in near silence for the next few minutes and finally arrived at The Point.  James knew it as a local make out stop for teenagers and the like, and didn't understand why a woman such as this would need to come up here.  With him.  It was a simple overlook of the city of Grenville populated only by a single massive oak tree.

"This is the place, James.  I thank you."  Meleeah said with a cool smile.  She opened her door and was about to step out as she added, "As for your reward, please follow me for a moment.  You may want to turn your vehicle off.  It may take a moment."

James complied again without thinking about why he did so so willingly.  He loosened his tie a bit more than truly necessary, and followed after the strange woman, holding a hundred questions on his tongue.

"I am glad that it was you, James."  She turned to him as they reached the gnarled trunk of the ancient tree.  "That I found, I mean.  A Seeker has to be special.  I feel something. . . different in you than the others I have met.  I am not quite sure what that means."

James paused and stared at her with an odd look.  She hadn't seemed crazy.  Odd, sure, but sane enough.  "I'm sorry?"  His usually calm tone had been replaced by a confused and slightly worried one.  She carried no purse, but that coat could have hidden any number of weapons.

She closed the ten foot gap between them so quickly that James had no time to react as she threw her arms around him.  "Gheret!"  She cried just before she planted her lips on his and kissed him deeply.

For a moment, James was stunned.  The very next, however, he felt a burning in his chest that quickly spread to every part of his body.  What a kiss!  He thought, in spite of himself.

In a matter of seconds, everything went dark.

C.R.E.

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