Enzio knew his great grandpa was dying, the very air reeked of death, but he knew it was his place to be here as a comfort. The old man lay on his bed upstairs while Enzio searched for something palatable in the refrigerator to munch on while he waited for him to wake. His Poppa had asked him to stay close that he had something important to tell him; Enzio’s curiosity peaked, and since there was a lack of anything else to do the few weeks between college graduation and his first day at work, he decided to stay. Maybe if he was lucky and his Poppa could muster enough breath, Enzio would get to hear one of his great grandpa’s famous stories.

Finally finding a couple pieces of un-molded bread and a few slices of roast beef in the fridge, Enzio made a small sandwich, sat down at the folding table and chairs that served as the kitchen set and thought about how the house needed food. He knew if he was going to stay a couple of weeks he was going to need to go to the small “mom and pop” store in town to pick up a few things, his great-grandpa was hardly eating lately and only a few neighbors could bring themselves to be kind enough to bring him anything edible. His own mother brought soup over once a day, but was that really enough Enzio wondered. He took a bite of his sandwich but immediately spit the foul taste from his mouth, I guess the meat wasn’t good, he thought to himself before tossing the rest of the food in the trash.

Enzio heard a noise from the stairway and rushed to see what it was, his great grandfather was standing at the top of the stairs in his robe. Enzio gasped slightly, his great grandpa did not look like the sick man Enzio knew he was. “There you are Enzio, my boy. Come upstairs, we have much to discuss.” His Poppa said before turning around and walking back to his bedroom. Enzio started up the staircase glancing at the pictures of his grandmother, mother, and himself in different stages of growing up on the walls. The couple of pictures of his great grandmother were at the top of the stairs, old time photos fascinated him and these were so different that he always spent a couple minutes looking at one of them on his way upstairs. This time he focused on his great grandmother sitting straight on a chair in front of her husband, his hand resting on her shoulder. They were both very young and it appeared that his great grandmother was already pregnant in the picture. Enzio’s whole family started families at a young age, except himself. His own mother was younger then he is now when Enzio was born. He smiled to himself and quickly looked at the picture a few inches away. His great grandma stood looking at his great grandpa smiling and holding his hands on her pregnant belly. Enzio always loved this picture; it was so daring for its time yet showed the love his great grandparents felt towards each other. Something about that picture seemed off to him today and he carefully took the picture off the wall and held it closer to his face to take a better look. The paper did not look similar to the paper in the other picture and carefully Enzio took the picture from its frame so he could touch it and see with his own fingers if there was a difference. He ran his fingers gently over the picture finally holding it closer to his face. That’s when he noticed it, not only was the picture a small painting, the woman in the picture was not the same woman in the other picture. He held the painted picture next to the one that still hung on the wall and compared the faces of the women. The women had many similar features but the woman in the picture he was holding had softer features and a slight red tint to her hair. How did he not notice this picture had slight color whereas the other was an old black and white?

A voice broke his concentration and it took Enzio a few minutes to realize that it was his Poppa calling to him in the secret language his great-grandpa taught him when he was young.

“Poppa,” Enzio started as soon as he walked into the room. “Who is this woman?” He asked holding out the picture to the old man who was now lying in his bed under the covers.

“All these years and you are just now noticing she’s not your great-grandmother?” He said in the secret language, then started to chuckle to himself but it was interrupted by a series of loud chesty coughs. When the coughing subsided, his faced turned serious. “She was my first wife and her fate I never knew.” He sighed and looked toward a confused Enzio. “Remember the story I would tell you about how I ended up where I am today?” He asked his great- grandson.

Enzio nodded, “The hole in the world.” He breathed the response out as if the words would weave his great grandfather’s story into existence. “Poppa I always thought you told your stories as entertainment, aren’t they just stories?”

His great grandfather sighed to himself as Enzio tucked the picture in his pocket, it was not large and he was careful not to bend it. “She is my one regret about staying in this land and making it my home.” His great grandpa said quietly under this breath. He turned towards Enzio and continued talking. “You used to believe my stories.” He said.

“Poppa I was only ten at the time,” A memory flooded back to Enzio of himself brandishing a ladle as a weapon and acting out one of the stories he heard as a child.

The old man shook his head and went on with what he was saying. “You are my only male heir Enzio and with that, a very important role where I’m from. I can only hope that the stone accepts you. When I was a teen, I tested to see if one of our power stones would choose me. The Baron Jeralan needed to find someone who could replace his ailing bodyguard. That day changed my young life. Everyone seemed shocked that the stone would choose someone so young but I knew I was destined for greatness, and it didn’t hurt that my uncle was the dying man that made it necessary for this search. Training was quick, when I sat in meditation I learned the secrets of the stone, it was as if my uncle was there teaching me how to use the powers. Life was very comfortable as the personal bodyguard to one of the three barons that ruled the land and we had many adventures, as you remember I told you. Eventually, I found a girl, married her and we decided to start a family.
Then came the war, Baron Madalor decided that he wanted complete rule, that sharing power was no longer the way things should be done. My lord and Baron Jonary agreed to fight together to end the conflict and appoint a new ruler for Priam, Madalor’s city. We were fighting in the forest near Viridian, my hometown, and I watched in horror as Madalor’s bodyguard, I never did know his name, pointed his staff at my lord. Baron Jeralan stopped fighting and started shrinking towards the ground; I had ordered my men to attack the bodyguard to stop his attack on my Lord. It was no good; Madalors’ men cut down my own. I knew I had to take action; Jeralan only seemed to be getting worse. No one really understood the power of the black stone except those who used it, but I focused my energy and aimed my power towards the stone that sit atop the staff.

Confusion swept over everyone after that, I heard yells of terror and felt a force catapulting me backwards. I awoke to find myself here, in this strange world.”

Enzio nodded along to his great-grandfather’s story, he did not remember hearing this part of his Poppa’s “arrival”.

His great-grandfather reached for the glass of water next to his bed and took a long drink. Enzio noticed the burn scar under his Poppa’s arm, he cringed slightly as he always did when he caught site of that wound, a story Enzio never heard.

Moving the glass away from his lips, Enzio’s great-grandpa continued. “I always assumed Jeralan was dead, I was devastated. I found myself in this place and knew that it was a small blessing. Surely, Madalor would have found someone to control the red amulet if I were to have remained. My own life was forfeit so, going back would have done my wife no good I would be killed anyway. In a split second decision, I stayed in this land, watching the hole in the world close. There was such commotion, and it happened so fast that no one else seemed to notice that the world seemed to be closing off to me.”

The old man turned to his great-grandson, “In all these years though, I’ve told myself that I did the courageous thing in staying here, the noble thing. I was protecting people from an evil man controlling my power. The truth is Enzio, I was scared to go back and face what my Baron’s defeat would mean for me. Scared of my own imminent death.” His face looked forlorn, making him look another ten years older.

Shock enveloped Enzio; he never heard his great-grandfather ever say he was scared of anything. He didn’t know what to do with this new information so he sat, watching his grandfather close his eyes to sleep. A few minutes later Enzio was internally berating himself for almost falling back into the trap of believing his great-grandfather’s stories were true. Sure, he admitted he was scared, Enzio thought, but he was scared of death in his fantasy world. He shook his head and moved to the recliner in the corner of the room. Taking the blanket off the back, Enzio threw it over himself and let his eyes drift off joining his great-grandfather in his nap.

*****
As he slowly approached the house, he thought to himself, No matter where I go, the stench is always the same. It was a mixture of herbs boiling and burning, a smell that always gave him a sense of unease; magics he knew nothing about went on in this house, and anything he could not control always made him feel uneasy.

The house was more like a shack, with shingles falling off the roof; the one window was broken—no doubt some local ruffian had thrown a rock through it—and when the door opened, it had to be slowly and carefully, or the whole door would fall off the frame. Once he managed the door, he quietly scoffed at the décor inside: one small cot in the corner of the house, a large table with two chairs taking up a majority of the room in the middle, with a stove on the same wall as the bed only a few feet away. How anyone could live in such squalor was a mystery to him, and he would not make this journey himself if it were not imperative.

“I’ve been expecting you.” The voice came from the woman with her back to him, standing and stirring at the stove.

“Well then, it will make this a lot faster if you already know what I want, won’t it, woman?” he snarled back at her dusting his robes of debris that feel from the ceiling.

She turned from her place, giving him a start at her appearance. She hunched over, with a small hump on her shoulders; her hair was white and missing in patches. What was there went to the middle of her back, covering a rough brown dress that probably had never seen better days; it was too short and had quite a few holes located in inappropriate places. He looked to her eyes, trying not to see what was through those holes. Her eyes were colorless, clouded over, something that came with her job over time.

Easily, she made her way over to one of the chairs at the table and motioned for him to take a seat. “Shall we proceed?” She smiled at him, showing her mouth bare of teeth except for two, making her look like an old vampire.

He stared at her in silence; the sooner she started, the sooner this would be over and he could continue on his journey.

She took a small dagger from her waistband and pricked her finger, squeezing a few drops onto the table in front of them. She then held her hand out in waiting. He threw his arm out in front of the woman, wincing slightly when she pricked his finger and squeezed a few drops on the table on top of her own blood.

With an unusually swift move, she put the dagger back with one hand and started smearing the blood together over the table, making a large dark spot. A small humming sound started to escape through her closed mouth, and she began rocking back and forth. “Ask.” She spoke suddenly, and through clenched teeth. The humming and rocking seemed to control her body.
“Will I succeed with my plans?”

He watched as she rocked and hummed for a minute more before she stopped suddenly and stared at the spot she had rubbed dark with blood. Her eyes were clear and a vibrant shade of green, he noticed, before she started to speak again.

“I see a girl, slight in build, gentle in step. She carries with her part of your power. She moves towards Viridian with unsure footing. Three more join in her route to Priam: two women, one already bound, one attempting the shadows, and a boy with eyes of a hawk, quiet as a mouse. They are those that attempt to stop you; power they have over blood and animals, but fall short they will. They lack something they know not, but they pursue you still. Unable to control those that follow her, the slight girl eventually gives way to death, and the plans you have made will go unchallenged.”

An evil smile crept onto the man’s face. He would have to do nothing in order to overcome his enemies and fulfill his destiny. He did not notice the woman sit straight in her chair, nor did he notice her eyes clouding over again. “You bring me good news; you shall be rewarded.” He stood to leave, a sudden thought coming to his mind. “You know of my plans?” he asked simply.

“The vision did not reveal all to me, but of that I know. Since the pathway is open, I shall continue to see all that transpires that affects this vision, including your actions.”

Anger raged through the man; he could not, would not have anyone aware of his actions, someone who could warn others of his plans, someone who might tell this young girl and her friends how to defeat him. He turned to face the woman; her dagger would be easy for him to get away from her and use before she could even react.

“Please be quick,” she spoke, looking in his direction. Taken aback at her comment, he stared at her. “I’ve told you, my mind is connected with this path; I have seen what transpires.”

“Then you would know I would have left here, left you alive, if you had kept that last bit of information to yourself.” The old woman sat smiling at him, waiting what she saw would happen to her. “What do you know?” he screamed at her. “Tell me, you old fool—tell me, and I will spare your life.”

“We both know that will never happen.” She took her dagger from her waistband and held it in her palm, waiting for him to take the weapon from her.

After it happened, he knew it was a rash decision; taking her back to his palace and having her tortured for the information she held out from him would have been the better action, but cutting her flesh and hearing her screams was calming to him. He could find other seers, and they could open their minds to his path and tell him what this old woman was keeping from him.

He exited the shack, allowing the door to fall off its hinges. From where they stood, his guard could see exactly what he had done to the old woman. Open wounds spilled guts, blood pooled everywhere; her head sat in the middle of the table, eyes lying in front of her. “Leave it,” he commanded, receiving his staff from one of his trusted servants and boarding his litter. He wanted people to come upon this shack and be horrified; that was half the fun.

He grinned to himself, and with a sweep of his hand, he pulled the curtain aside so he could view his work one last time. He had a rededication ceremony in Viridian to attend, and he needed to clean his robes; with luck, he might run into this graceful girl and end all his fears about what the seer had not revealed to him.

*****

Enzio woke with a start, sitting straight in the chair, the blanket that was over him thrown to the floor. He looked towards his great-grandfather noticing how pale his face grew after his nap.

“Poppa?” Enzio asked unsure whether his great-grandpa would respond or not.

“Enzio, my boy. I need you to retrieve something for me. It is time you got your inheritance.” He motioned for Enzio to move closer and take a seat on his bed. “Out in the shed, there is a secret room; in the room is a switch that will reveal a hidden room. Bring me the ….” He paused and chuckled to himself. “Bring the firebox to me.”

Enzio sat in silence for a moment, pondering if he really wanted to add to his great-grandfather’s delusions. He watched as his great-grandfather drifted back to sleep, and decided wandering around the old shed would be better then sitting and watching. He made his way down the stairs and out the front door, his feet guiding him to his old playhouse from when he was younger. The door to the old shed squeaked open and gloomy light and dust covering everything greeted him. The room looked the same as the last time he could remember coming out to the shed. A small cot lay in the far corner of the room, a fireplace sat in the wall at the middle, and a table with a couple unsteady-looking chairs was to the right of the door. He glanced around the room; he had no idea what he was looking for. When he was a child he’d explored every nook and cranny of the shed, but never found a box of any kind.

Sighing to himself, he sat on the dust-covered chair and looked around. He stared at the wall opposite him; nothing ran along that wall, but it did not appear to hold any secrets. His eyes fell back to the door he’d come in through. Perhaps he should try looking around outside. He made his way through the door and started to walk around outside of the shed. There were no flaws; every board was tight in place, which Enzio though amazing, knowing the shed was the first home that his great-grandfather had called his own.

He sighed to himself and walked back toward the door. The search, he believed, would prove futile, but he hated to go back to his great-grandfather without anything. He went back inside and leaned against the wall opposite all the furniture. He stood there, watching the leaves blow on the trees through the open door, when a thought struck him. He was learning against the inside wall that was right inside the door, but he remembered walking past the door further to get to the edge outside. He placed his hand on the inside wall and turned so he was able to look outside at the shed’s outside wall. The wall on the outside of the shed extended another food, nothing a small child or anyone not paying attention would notice. Excited at his new discovery, Enzio began to search the interior wall for a catch or a loose board. The wood was smooth against his fingers, and they all seemed to be even until he reached about halfway down the wall; a board stuck out a half an inch further then the rest. A half an inch was nothing, he told himself, but his fingers did not listen to his doubt and he pushed the board. He gasped and moved quickly away from the wall when two sections of it slid away to reveal something more behind them.

Behind the larger door was nothing more then rocks, weeds that grew only in the darkness and a few stumps where trees used to stand. Confused but uninterested, Enzio’s eyes fell on the small cubby and the box inside. “The firebox,” he whispered aloud as he moved his hands toward the box, taking hold of it. Enzio placed the box on the dusty table and wondered if he would be able to open it easily. There was no keyhole, so he was not worried about a lock. He grabbed hold of the bottom of the box and with his free hand held the top, forcing the box open. He was surprised that only a little exertion was needed to get the box open. He placed it back on the table and finished lifting the lid. He stood stunned as he started down at a large red jewel with a chain so that it could be work around the neck.

His fingers lightly touched the jewel. The stone was warm to his touch, and even though he knew his great-grandfather was waiting for him to return with the box, he had to try the amulet on, to feel it around his neck. Carefully, he picked u the chain and placed it over his head. Warmth washed over his body, giving him the feeling that he was supposed to have the amulet on, that it was meant for him. He gazed down at the jewel, rubbing it to feel the warmth through his fingertips. Before his eyes, the jewel started to flow brightly. He tried to cover his eyes, but before he could, the light enveloped the entire room; energy came out of nowhere and knocked Enzio from his feet. He felt his head slam against one of the rocks that was hidden behind the door, knocking him unconscious.