Mansion on the Hilltop - Prt. II

~~~

Her car was careening through the red lights and several cars honked at her reckless behavior.

Iris knew there was only one place she can go to for help. She had gotten to know them when she first started to exhibit signs of the Marked's abilities, and they had helped train Iris and kept her off the demons' radar since she was five.

He had helped to stop the nightmares that troubled her sleep and kept the monsters at bay. In was only a coincidence that he discovered her close to the edge of jumping off the cliff  on a family camping trip and convinced the then distraught Iris to gain control of her abilities to lead a normal life.

This small band of magicians had their guild in an abandoned military bunker not far from the city outskirt. They had performed all over the country and the leading magician was an ex-marine, who has gathered a group of ex-con men and other street thugs and turned them around for good. But he was still not someone her family would associate with.

But then again, none of her family knew of the magicians, they did not even know she was a Marked. Only those gifted in the Light could recognize the curse placed on her soul.

Not willing to succumb to her fate and having chosen to serve Trinity, Iris was in her third year studying theology in school.

Pulling the car to a short stop, tires screeching on the asphalt road, she got out of the car and entered straight into the magicians' guild.

"Help, Rollin, this is Iris, help me!" She barged into the steel door despite the receptionist's protest and charged all the way up the stairs.

"What is all this commotion about?" Vale, Rollin's assistant, poked his head from behind the table full of miniature stage devices.

"Vale, where is Rollin? I need his help, now!" Iris banged on the table, "I have to go back, or everyone will die!"

Vale was trying his best to stop the frantic girl from roaming aimlessly in the offices and her wild gestures were catching unwanted attention.

"Unhand her, Vale. It's your lucky day that I am in, lassie. Now tell me what happened and we can go from there." Rollin, the leading magician, appeared from a revolving door, accompanied by his apprentices.

Iris told him of the woman who could grant earthly wishes as well as immortality and the strange villa on the hilltop that trapped the church goers in a time different from the reality they were in.

"This sounds like a portal demon to me, Iris." Rollin said thoughtfully, stroking his chin. "You certainly have a way of attracting bad attention."

"I don't care what they would do to me, but I want to release the saints. They are innocent, ordinary humans." Iris grit her teeth and looked pleadingly at the magician, who at his spare time, was also an exorcist.

Taking a rifle from a weapons cabinet, Rollin calmed her down by giving her an emblem in the shape of a cross and selecting from a few magicians under his employment, they drove back to the villa at day break with a plan.

~~~

When she motioned them to infiltrate the villa from the basement garage, Iris herself went back in from the gate she exited from. This time, she braced herself to confront the matriarch as the gate clanked shut and would not budge again.

There was no one in sight and the stillness made Iris nervous. She tried several doors but all led back to the atrium. She was starting to panic again. Knowing there were several floors to the mansion, she started to climb upwards and ended up on the third floor of the atrium.

Everything was rose-colored and the interior has shifted to a tomb-like vault, albeit well-decorated with motifs and elaborate columns. She was breathing lightly on a balcony, trying to find a way to escape when the matriarch showed up at the floor below. 

Behind her, Iris stopped her breath, was Rollin in his military garb and he was aiming his sniper shotgun at her. "No," Iris said aloud, "not Rollin! You can't control him."

Laughing and looking at her powdered fingers with the brightly painted nails, the matriarch said: "Well, that would teach you not to invite unwanted guests to my house. Lesson number one, don't ever go up against a hungry demon thirsting for a Marked's soul. It would be a pleasure to see you fight against the man who supposedly saved you life."

"How did you know?" Iris gingerly moved away from the balustrades, trying to dock from the aim, but Rollin just followed her every move.  From the cold sweat sliding down his face, Iris knew Rollin was still conscious and was trying his best to repel the demon's mental control on him.

She knew she could kill him easily with her abilities, but in that way it would put her in the same position as the matriarch and commit a sin she could not erase. This was what the matriarch wanted and she would not give in to her.

When the gun ceased its shaking, she knew Rollin had lost the internal battle. She whisked out the cross Rollin gave to her and as she had guessed, Rollin would not shoot where she has placed the cross in front of her.

This frustrated the matriarch and under her order, Rollin too climbed up to the narrow gangway and went behind her to shoot. Iris had no choice but stabbed him with the dagger he has prepared for her. She had sworn to never use her abilities and break the protective seal on her sanity.

With a hiss, the matriarch flew towards her, revealing her true manifestation.

~~~

She had sprinkled the demon with the holy water and watched it melt and scream in pain and the mansion trembled with the demon. She has stabbed it multiple times with the dagger and broke the vial containing the dispersion spell prepared for her from the magicians without using her own abilities, thus preserving the seal on her sanity.

She ran then, dragging the wounded but unbounded Rollin with her. Together they went down the endless stair cases but still no exit to the outside.

In the parlor, confused guests and her family were pounding uselessly on the unbreakable windows. They were still trapped in the house.

The side door, Iris remembered now. There was another flight of stairs from the side door leading down into the cliff face with a Rosetta glassed door-frame.

No portal demons would leave a place completely sealed. There would always be a back-up exit. That must be it, Iris thought excitedly. The house was crumbling and imploding on itself. She ushered the guests down the narrow flight of stairs and with all her might, threw a vase at the glassed door-frame.

The door-frame pulsated with a white energy so intense that she had to shut her eyes for a moment. But alas, the vase only bounced back and broke on the stone steps. The rumbling would not cease and it would not be long before the villa folded on itself, taking everything with it to the dark dimension Iris did not want to dwell on.

"No, I will not give up!" Iris shouted and ran back up the side door and sure enough, strange dimensions were all swirling and imploding inside the atrium. She finally released a bit of her power and unlocked the spirits trapped in the villa.  "Break the glass and I promise to set you free!"

Drawing away her life force, the unlocked spirits of bygone victims shattered the glass door-frame, creating a portal to the outside world.

~~~

When they had all come out of the portal, all were stunned at where they've ended up. They were no longer on the hill but outside a department building teeming with people on the other side of the coastal city.

 

The sun was just setting down below the horizon.

Her father was waving for a cab to take them home and no one seemed to remember anything.

Rollin had disappeared out of view, not willing to disclose their relationship to her family, but Iris was all too glad his wound was shallow.

Stroking her little brother's hair, Iris hugged him tightly in her bosom.

"Are you okay, sister?" His soft hazel eyes inquired curiously.

Smiling, Iris replied peacefully: "Yes, brother, I've never felt better."

END

~~~

Mansion on the Hilltop - Prt. II

Mansion on the Hilltop - Prt. I

~~~

It all started with the visit.

Thinking there can be no harm in attending the home meeting with the brothers and sisters from the church, Iris accepted the invitation gladly.  The host family was a business client to her father's patient, who happened to express a great deal of interest in converting to Christianity.

When her father bumped into the patient by chance while out shopping, the host family's matriarch, if there was still such a thing nowadays, was with the patient. Iris' father, naturally, had immediately made friends with the matriarch and showed her his family photo.

Upon seeing Iris in the photo, the matriarch volunteered to open her renovated villa for a home meeting for Iris' church, saying she too was seeking spiritual guidance but had never quite found the right church group.

That lazy afternoon on her way home from college, Iris picked up several saints and her younger brother and drove them to the newly furbished Tuscany villa on the hilltop.

She parked the car on the sloped drive way but did not go into the basement garage, since she would have to leave the meeting early.

The villa was painted white and yellow and they had to go up several flights of stairs to enter into the marble-columned, carpeted parlor. The hostess welcomed them warmly, her magenta lipsticked mouth wide enough to swallow all the visitors.

On the left hand side of the villa, a gated community of high-rise luxury apartments were just a few minutes' drive from this singular mansion on the hilltop. Iris wondered why there were no other luxury homes beside the mansion. But then again, who in their right mind would want to build their home into a sheer cliff-face. From a distance, one side of the villa appeared to be suspended in mid-air.

The atmosphere was gay and normal and as the number of guests started to increase, some moved into the hallways of the villa.

Iris wondered why the hostess did not simply put them all into the large chamber hall further back. The hall was inlaid with fantastically sculptured rose-colored sandstone in unidentified styles and striped alabaster marble columns, with the floor paved in gold-flecked basalt and indoor balconies and mezzanine balustrades inlaid with onyx motifs. According to one gossiping guest, the real entrance to the villa was on the other side of the large hilltop estate and the parlor they were in used to be the family den.

But of course, they weren't that important to start with.

In contrast to the somber, regal yet somewhat ancient reception hall leading to the deeper parts of the mansion,  maybe it was not that bad to stayed in the contemporary, white-fur padded parlor, with the filtered afternoon sun keeping the room in light, while the shadows casted by the columns and the air-conditioning offered the guests respite.

Iris looked at her laughingly conversing parents eating refreshments with the seated saints and felt suddenly ill at ease. Her instinct was telling her that something was not quite right.

She pretended to follow different groups loitering in the hallways, but was actually peeking into the uniquely decorated rooms from all the widely opened doors. After all, she reasoned, it was a once in a lifetime opportunity to tour a wealthy family's home.

"That's odd, why leave all the doors ajar? Aren't the family afraid someone might steal something or intrude into their private quarters?" Taking a bite out of a quiche in the kitchen, Iris muttered under her breath, "the confidence they have in people is truly amazing."

When she discovered a side-door leading to the chamber hall, Iris quickly scanned for nearby people and assured, took a long look into the dimly illuminated arabesque hall. High ceiling hung with metal-wrought Arabian lanterns, the hall was covered in a dirty blood-red color, the effect accentuated ever more by the rose-colored walls. Upon closer scrutiny, the patterns on the arches and keystones were like silk-threads of blood vessels...

"Hello there!" Jetting her face quite literally in front of Iris' eyes, the hostess suddenly appeared in the kitchen, nearly causing Iris a heart attack.

Iris backed a bit unsteadily towards the guest restroom nearby and quickly excused herself.

"No worries, I will be outside waiting for you, dear, if you need anything! When you're done, I have something to discuss with you!" The hostess with her high-pitched voice lingered outside Iris' hastily closed door. 

"Great, I won't be long." Iris replied half-hearted.  

~~~

When she emerged and felt much more collected, the hostess took her aside from the chatting guests and said to her in a whisper: "I have a proposition for you. If you stay here and work for me, then I can guarantee you wealth beyond your wildest imagination and bestow upon you the secret to the elixir of life itself, or perpetual youth."

Here her lips smiled ever so widely, "as you've seen, the chamber hall is the atrium to this mansion, and I am pleased no one but you seemed to be aware of its existence. This just shows you're one of those selected daughters of Lilith constrained in the human shells. Why not default back to who you really are?"

Iris stared at the woman. Is she mad?! "What do you mean?" But she knew it to be real. Whatever has clouded her mind and perhaps kept all of the guests under guise and illusion was suddenly dispelled.

"Come now, you know it long ago. Why hide it and deny yourself? You're not one of them. You have always been able to sense the spirits." The matriarch left it at that.

This mansion should have never existed on the hilltop. This woman who looked to be in her 40s was a sorceress, a defector to the satanic ways. Why she picked a devout Christian's daughter to make a deal so readily and bluntly was unfathomable, but Iris knew she's in deep trouble.

The house had the guests and saints under spell and cage. No one seemed aware of the different time-flows outside the windows, held up by the optical illusions of the afternoon sun and trees, and her parents and  little brother were blissful captives unbeknown to their wills.

The woman's hands held onto her arms ever more tightly, the polished nails digging into Iris' flesh. "I'll have to think about it." And with a yank, she dashed away from the woman straight into the now glowing chamber hall.

"Yes, you do that," chuckled the woman, "meanwhile, remember that the saints are all imprisoned here because of you. The longer it takes to make up your mind, " the matriarch paused for emphasis, "the quicker their unprotected, blessed souls will be sucked dry of life, dear, and join the throngs of woeful ghosts this house possesses!"

The beating of her heart grew louder by the minute and with a concentrated will power she's never allowed herself before, Iris broke through the maze of enchantments and made for the arched gate leading outside.

When she tumbled out into the open, she signed a relief so loud she surprised herself. She went around the externally normal, quiet villa and was shocked to see all the windows devoid of life. All the opulence was still in place, but no living creatures was seen and she did not catch a single human silhouette or hear a sound from the lavishly furnished rooms exposed through the clear windows.

"God, I need to get away from this place." Thinking out loud, Iris made for the drive way and fumbled for her car key.

"Wait for me, I will be back." With a vehement vow, she drove down the hill.

She knew the matriarch would be expecting her return. Time itself was frozen on the hilltop.

~~~

To be Continued...

Mansion on the Hilltop - Prt. I

Hardwired

They could have seen it coming.

The apocalypse struck like a thief in the night.

The series of concussions and shock waves paralyzed the entire existence.

There were few signs of the birth pangs of chaos and the prophecy was buried by those with an agenda.

Dismissed like the few before her, they've brushed her warnings aside like a speck of weightless lint.

The Neosapiens had willingly subjected themselves to the augmented spherical circuitry for speed and convenience.

To prevent stimuli inundation and sensory overload, they've hardwired their neural structure since birth and inserted nano-chips called "bryostallins" to better access and live in the metadigital galaxises traversing several astral nebulae.



She had voiced concerns over an imminent meltdown and a very real danger of a collective mentality overruling individual expressions, not to mention the possibility of a coup d'etate from the A.I. MotherBoard, making everyone a mindless droid, or in the event of a viral infection, which could short fuse the Life-Stream Circuitry all the netizens depended on and trigger a slumber paralysis from the statics storm.

Instead, they've laughed in her face, called her a lunatic and threatened her with her family's lives. To prepare for the inevitable, she has escaped into the backwaters of the Hegemony.

When the metamorphosis of the colossal cuvettes of charged ions and energy-streams supplying the main transmission towers came knocking, the viral infection and meltdown traveled all the way to the heart of the the Capital Planet inhabited by the MotherBoard and the elusive World Builders.

Then the onslaught of destruction and panic ensued. She re-emerged and led the resistance against the enslaved and their invisible overlords, but the outnumbered Disconnectants were no match to the might of the Rampant.

---

The Stranger closes down the portal and files the recording into the Astrolabian Archives.

Ne knows it will only be a matter of centuries before another species repeat the same mistake.

The Timeless Agency has known this all along and not only had consumed and integrated that existence's MotherBoard and its memories, but had also preserved and reinvigorated the rebel leader's essence.

"They were given the freedom to choose," the Council of Templars have told nim simply.

Humanity's evolving towards the same ultimatum and watching from above, the demiurges will not intervene.

END

---

Just for fun to beautiful graphics and a glimpse of augmented reality, please click on this link: http://www.tudou.com/programs/view/MSRFUGoBleU/

(This is a short clip with a short Mayan oracle followed by a Final-Fantasy-like love story when the world  ends and the recreation of a new world order afterwards.)

Hardwired

Memories of the Battle at Red Cliff

Just a deviation from my usual self-made poems, this is actually a Chinese poem I admire, written by the famous poet Su Shi from the Song Dynasty.

This is an ode to the warring Three Kingdoms Period of heroes and beauties and the legendary Battle at the Red Cliff.

Enjoy this masterpiece's translated version & tell me what you think!~  :-D

This is the MV and ending theme song from the contemporary movie called the "Battle at the Red Cliff", inspired by the epic battle. Take a look and listen: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Oi6IzPfAoQM&feature=related

---

"Charm of a Maiden Songstress"

Memories of the Battle at Red Cliff

- by Su Shi

The Great River eastward flows

With its waves are gone all those

Gallant heroes of bygone years.

West of the ancient fortress appears

The Red Cliff. Here General Zhou won his early fame

When the Three Kingdoms were all in flame.

Jagged rocks tower in the air,

Swashing waves beat on the shore,

Rolling up a thousand heaps of snow.

To match the hills and the river so fair,

How many heroes brave of yore

Made a great show!

I fancy General Zhou at the height

Of his success, with a plume fan in hand,

In a silk hood, so brave and bright,

Laughing and jesting with his bride so fair,

While enemy ships were destroyed as planned

Like shadowy castles in the air.

Should their souls revisit this land,

Sentimental, his wife would laugh to say,

Younger than they, I have my hair all turned gray.

Life is but a passing dream,

I'd drink to the moon, which once saw them on the stream.

(Original Chinese Version below)

---

Poem Title: 念奴嬌

Poem Subhead: 赤壁懷古

Author: 蘇軾

大江東去，

浪淘盡千古風流人物。

故壘西邊，

人道是三國周郎赤壁。

亂石崩雲，

驚濤裂岸，

捲起千堆雪。

江山如畫，

一時多少豪傑。

遙想公瑾當年，

小喬初嫁了，

雄姿英發。

雨扇綸巾，

談笑間，

檣櫓灰飛煙滅

故國神游，

多情應笑我，

早生華髮。

人間如夢，

一樽還酹江月。

---

FYI:

Poet Su Shi's Bio on Wikipedia

Information on the Three Kingdoms Period

Memories of the Battle at Red Cliff

Aggressive Panhandling

（Photo's from Annie's Treasure Trove)

Shake, shake, shake,

it won't stop!

Shake, shake, shake,

day and night, on and on!

Not one, but two, now four or five,

each hoarding a spot on the sidewalk.

Shake, shake, shake,

earplugs won't do the trick.

Shake, shake, shake, shake,

Shake, shake, shake, shake, shake and shake!

Cursing and swearing and continuous ranting below the window,

even the most benign, tender heart can't tolerate.

Day and night,

on and on,

Shake, shake shake, shake,

shake, shake, shake!

Not once, nor twice but many thrice,

non-stop, obsessive the beggars holler.

Shake, shake, shake,

the cup, the smell, the annoying claps and laughter,

disturbia to the mind and sleep.

Called the police, it did no good.

Spared some change only rooted them longer.

Social service? There is no one when you need them.

Useless government loopholes,

shake, shake, shake, shake!

Until one day,

BANG!

Silence and Peace are once restored.

Aggressive Panhandling

Shadow General

No need for a name, no need for a title.

I am my Sire's shield,

His harbinger of terror and delight.

Desiring no self, except to serve and obey Him.

Age defines me not,

imbued with cryonics elements defying Time.

Celibate, Spiritual, chosen out of but the fewest elites, finest of the purest ilks.

No will of my own but the innocence of my soul,

tainted and mingled with my Sire's blood.

A weapon master designed to hunt: a hound of the highest calibre.

Spy, assassin, intelligence agent, sniper, chamberlain, entertainer, strategist,

none classifies me but I lord above them all.

Second in command, mouth for Him,

nobler than the sagest of them all.

Allowed no love, no childhood memories, deprived of own family,

observant and slave to tradition.

Allowed no audience, raised on venomous oath, unshakable pledge,

Until angels claim me or beasts drag me to hell.

A shell empty of humanity, a royal guardian in impenetrable mask,

bonded in deepest shades, residing in Occlumency.

I am but expendable,

a double and mirror phantom to His Personal General,

They call me:

Shadow General.

Shadow General

Trip to Kenting National Park

風蕭雲入海，

異枝葉捲天。

奇嶺山澤炎，

待何方日冰雪憐？

*Approximate translation:

Scrolls of unfurling clouds tumble and roll into the sea,

accompanied by notes of singing bamboo flute from torrents of howling wind slashing against the tidal waves.

Twigs and branches exchange places, with fluttering leaves plucked up, wheeling into the roaring sky.

Strangely burning boulders and wells of cool fountains lie hidden within amorphous mountains.

Alas, when will the approach of snow and ice soothe my weary heart?

Trip to Kenting National Park

Allurement of Simplicity

                                                            

 平凡中的美麗。

Ordinary beauty,

I can live with that.

等待和準備中。

Waiting and preparing,
For that special someone.

暗示與勉勵裏。

Sieving hints and cheering forward,
I will someday find the courage to live Me and in Him.

危機變成轉機。

Turning crisis into opportunity,

Now that's what makes Life worth living.

Allurement of Simplicity

Carpe Diem

Carpe Diem

means

Seize the Day,

What more's needed to be said?

Carpe Diem

A Lone Wolf

Icy Stares.

Unwanted Presence.

Ignored Hurt.

Unbridgeable Crevasse.

A Cut so deep that makes you bleed,

Indelible Scar outlasting generations.

A Cigarette stub that burns a hole on your skin.

Equality's but a Summer Dream.

A dying witness, a silent victim, a doused warrior, ostracized by your own kind.

Unrequited compassion and sympathy; friendship rejected, don't say you haven't tried first reaching out.

No Chance to win this uphill battle,

Howling in the thundering storm.

Nothing to prove,

Hugging the last thread of pride and dignity,

Chained in shackles, collared, cuffed,

A lone wolf confronting this infallible Tower of Babylon.

A Lone Wolf

In Search of Light

"Tell me what you saw." The Stranger asks in a strained voice, the tiniest quiver betraying nis fear.

The young woman reaches over to initiate contact, but her hand is deflected by an unseen shield.

Ne promises nimself that ne would not budge.

---

"Murkiness, that was the first thing I noticed." Her thought flows out to nim.

"At the time I did not know I was on the verge of discovery, of something big." She says in the void, "Well, something significant at least to me."

The monologue begins: "My parents are lying on the bed, dressed in their summer nightgown and tank top, bellies exposed to the darker than the darkest midnight blue."

"I was staring out a window set on the plastered wall. Illuminating the room was a disquieting light that filters through the static black branches outside.

The bedroom opened into a back field full of white crosses and tombstones spanning across countless low hills.

Through the doorway, everything in the cemetery was drenched in coldness and clothed in silvery-grey moonlight.

I remember gingerly lifting my foot out into the moor but turned back and fled at the last moment, sensing shadows I did not see.

My heart was thumping against my chest.

Annexed to the bedroom was an empty chamber casted in fluorescent white. The coldness was everywhere. There was no warmth and the well-lit room did not offer me comfort. I raised my head and could not bear but sheltered my eyes against the blinding light-source above.

Shut doors made in unidentifiable materials and a miniature goblin-like man guards my every turn. He meant me no harm, I am sure. In retrospect, it was better that I did not venture."

She pauses here, her palms rubbing against the table's edge.

---

"Continue," ne prompts, aware the Existence Quota is willowing away. The revolving vortex is already dissipating and she will be erased along with this space.

The secret has to be kept under the bolt, even if it means sacrificing an innocent lamb.

Who am I to question the Order, I am but an agent of their doing. The Stranger gloomily ponders, whipping up the swirling patterns within the vortex's continuum. "Your confession will only set you free. Now go on."

She nods, the dark circles under her eyes have manifested themselves more visibly than the last time ne was in to tend to her. The Watchers would have to be chastised for ill-management later. The Stranger grumbles in his mind.

She picks up the pace once more and swallows, "There was a steel-stairway leading up to an indoor industrial gangway and I was groping, I was groping the frosted windows, trying to slide them open one by one. But the hinges would not yield and I was excluded from the passing shining light emanating from the other side of the windows."

Here she starts to cry again and the Stranger can only sit in silence, unable to offer her any consolation. She has been rejected, deemed fallen and perhaps in some way there is reason in this justice, yet I do not understand the decision to erase her.

"I feel much better now. Thank you for seeing me again, doctor." The young woman brightens up momentarily.

By the time ne comes around to respond, it is already too late. She has been frozen in cryostasis.

"Time to send her on her merry way." The Warden's voice startles nim, her voice floating up hallowly from nis wrist.

---

When the orb finally finished imploding, the Stranger remains standing on the solitary jumping-board structure. Ne words out a command code-string and sends the glowing petal skyward to join the rest of the others ascending to the Exit.

"She was a good container, too bad there is more truth in her nightmares than she realized," says the Warden. "So, will you be joining us for dinner after work?"

"I will pass. There are a few more on the list to be modified." Ne brushed off her delicate white fingers on nis shoulders.

"__________, you are taking this duty too seriously. Lighten up, it can't be helped." The Warden watched nis expressionless visage and softens her tone, concern written all over her face.

"Thanks for the advice, you guys go and enjoy the rest of the warp-cycle." The Stranger taps on his wrist and fades out of view.

"Wait-"

"Don't oppose him, you know how he is." One of the nearby Circlet Templars rubs his eyebrows and sighs before walking towards the gate, trailed by his other two colleagues in slender, billowing garbs.

With one last glance, the Warden can only shake her head and descends after them down the steps into reality.

In Search of Light

4 Hemispheres in the Night

East, West, South, North.

东苍龙、西白虎、南朱雀、北玄武,

embracing the Middle Earth.

Spring, Summer, Autumn, and Winter,

东苍龙、北玄武、西白虎、南朱雀.


Undulating in a singsong voice, the yawning Black Tortoise of Winter exchanges position with the early rising Spring, the Azure Long* bringing in the fragrance of the budding flowers and gentle sway of grass.

Fiercely protective, eager to please, in rushes the impatient Tiger of the west,
bringing in the full-grown crops and bountiful harvest, blasting out trumpets made of White gold.

Surely, gleefully, the sari of the Vermillion Phoneix dyes the heart and mind of the animals and swiftly yet quietly, prances the celestial falcon dance, blanketing the world in sleepy mist of grey and snow.

Thus in a never ending cycle of life,

the Four Seasons come and go, the constellations guard over our fortunes,

Forever surrounding the Middle way of glory and ascendence.

Yellow be the eternal Sun.

---
Long* = Chinese flying, water "dragon" with elogated body, four limbs with talons, but no bat wings. Traditional Chinese long does not spit out fire and is considered a celestial guardian. Since there is no compatible tranliteration, thus the use of the phonetic sound of the Chinese character symbolizing this mystical creature.

(Note: 5 Cardinal Directions & 4 Seasons in the English explanation)
(Note: 5 Cardinal Directions & 4 Seasons in the Simplified Chinese explanation)

4 Hemispheres in the Night

Ripples in the Rain

Bounce, bounce, swoosh, the highlander leaps tall into the sky,

Twirl, twirl, flip, the acrobat jumps across the bridge,

Tippity, tippity toe goes the ballerina on the shore, 

Until...

Slower and slower,

Lower and lower the procession goes.

Dripping down the tree branches, the flow couldn't be stinted.

                                                                                                For,

One moment you're sliding along,

The next second you're standing still in the rain: Watching your life falls apart.

Ripples in the Rain

Second Chance - Part I

I love my job, the Stranger projected nis sarcastic thought to no one in particular in nis vicinity.

Today ne would have to claim a life unless by Providence's sake the girl refuses nis deal. Either way, it would not bother nim much. But for the girl, life would be hell either way.

---
Another bouts of cruel laughter rose at the back of the building. The students assigned to sweep the ground around the concrete water tower and to clean the little garden were having a bon.

Ne stood on the balcony overseeing the back of the school complex building and watched on quietly.

The girl has stubbed her big toes trying to scale the water tower just like a few of her male peers. She had failed miserably and instead rammed her sneakers on the cement wall half way up on her unsuccessful jump.

Two other girls giggled and burst out laughing.

The girl has said nothing but smiled with them, picking up the broom and started sweeping red-faced.

Later when ne followed her to the girl's restroom, ne found her examining and rubbing her feet. Ne peered into her thoughts and found her condemning her foolish self, trying to fit in even when she knew it would be impossible after the bowel accident one time in her junior high years.

At that time she was only in seventh grade and was nervously writing the qualification exam required in her prefecture for students to pass onto the next grade.

Her stomach was not feeling well and as the cramps built up, she tried to hold it in as long as she could, as the proctor was very strict about not going to the restroom during exam period.

In the end she had let out a series of tiny, soundless fart and soiled her underwear. Unfortunately, the farts were odorous enough to make those around her aware she had an accident. Embarrassed, she had immediately ran for the restroom at break but left a visible mark on her seat.

Though she did clean up afterwards, but inside, she already knew she's in trouble.

After the incident, her social life at school had taken a drastic downward spiral and every day she had to endure her classmates calling her unsaintly nicknames, one of which was "Poo king" in a local dialect.

The students were clever in their taunting and ostracizing of her. They never did anything against her when the instructors were around. But she was always by herself at school recess and it was difficult for her to find a team to join for projects or whenever PE class started.

She got by only through reading novels and doodling and though relatively low-profile, even the home class instructor recognizes her talent for arts. Even so, no one encouraged her to develop her potential and she was left alone in the corner desk to be ridiculed and verbally abused by her classmates whenever an instructor's back was turned.

She used to be a bright, care-free, pretty and smiling girl, now she was just reduced to enduring the day as it passed and plagued by the newly popped-up acne problem most of her peers seemed not to be affected.

She just wanted to die sometimes or to live in a fantasy world of her own creation. She felt better interacting with these made-up characters than facing the daily jeers and disgusted looks from her classmates. No girls would play with her, no boys would talk to her.

Her family did not know how to handle this and one day she found her parents awkwardly stooping down to beg the school administrator of letting her transfer to another school. But afraid of damaging the school's reputation and letting the wind out of the bullying at school affect the annual ranking process, the administrator had refused her father's plead and sent them away. She was stuck in this school.

She had despaired and it soured her heart seeing her respectful father bending down to an unsympathetic woman half his age.

Afterwards she had run to hide behind a storage shed and let her repressed rage seeped out through stifled sobs and balled fists. If there was nothing her parents, the adults, could change, then what was there for her to defend herself with?

Her grades have taken a toll and there was no joy in her school life.

The prefecture was known for producing future college graduates like physicians, engineers, lawyers, architects, journalists, and professionals to fill all sorts of esteemed occupations. Those students who failed in the pre-set education system had no hope in securing a future and were looked down to.

One day, a young substitute instructor came and replaced the home class teacher, who has gone on a maternity leave.  The young instructor was very popular among the academically-stressed students and he always had a way of elucidating complex course materials with witty jokes. His unconventional lax attitudes and handsome looks were a plus.

It was a humid afternoon and the sticky rain has left the tension raw in the badly ventilated home economics classroom.

Tasked to create recipes, cook them and put the final products on display at the August Festival to raise funds in competition to other grades was not easy.

Her class has lost last year to a junior grade class and the classmates have vented their anger by vandalizing her desk. The home class instructor at that time had turned a blind eye on this and many ensuing acts.

"Hey, Faith, do you have any idea on a dessert?" The girl sitting next to her asked casually. Faith looked down at her writing pad and sketched an ice-cream bar.

"Pish, why ask for her opinion, Sarah. She'll just jinx our chance of winning." The student treasurer of her class who was sitting opposite to Faith gave the student president a disapproving look.

"Yeah, poo doll here will just made everyone sick with her stinkiness." The tall boy with a prominent forehead remarked with a sneer.

And before ne came, the class has erupted to jeers and the usual elbowing.

With a barely contained rage, Faith abruptly stood up from her chair and threw the writing pad at a male classmate.

"Woah, what's into you, ass-wipe. You think you can take us on, is that so?" And scrunching up a piece of paper, he started flicking paper balls and rubber band projectiles at Faith.

Laughing now, the other male classmates joined the fray.

"Sit down, Faith. Just ignore them, Teacher Y'i will be in soon." Sarah pulled at Faith's sleeve, but Faith knew the only reason Sarah spoke to her occasionally was to uphold her squeaky clean image in instructor Y'i's eyes. Sarah had on many occasions, deliberately wrote her name on the whiteboard at study periods when Faith has not misbehaved, just to have someone stay behind after school and to show she was doing her class monitor job.

Faith did not sit down but remained defiantly standing, allowing herself to be pelleted with saliva, paper balls and rubber bullets.

When Instructor Y'i showed up without warning behind Faith, the students were caught red-handed in their acts. Some froze their throwing hands in mid-act and others only had surprise and guilt on their faces. Instructor Y'i placed his hands on Faith's slightly rigid shoulder and she sat down obediently.

Smiling, teacher Y'i had casually asked the class to pipe down and walked to the podium to begin class. Afterwards, the class had remained behaved for the rest of the week and Faith was freed from taunting and one or two girls actually apologized for not standing up for her.

Instructor Y'i's presence was enough to squish any further violence.

Where did he come out? Many students had scratched their heads but had no clue. The classroom door was at the left but Faith was sitting close to the back wall. If Instructor Y'i had come in, all would have noticed and the two boys charged for watching the door did not see the teacher come in.

---

"Faith, please come to the staff room to see Instructor Y'i." The sinewy voice of the Administration Secretary carried over the PA and was broadcasted over the entire school complex.

The students raised their heads and the Science teacher jetted her thumb at the door. "Haha, finally you'll get what you deserve, shit-face." A boy whispered close by. 

 "Yeah, nobody's called into the staff room if not for doing something wrong and to be punished." Another chimed in.

Faith said nothing. She was thinking about suicide and revenge, but was too chicken and soft-hearted to carry out either.

"Have a seat, Fei. Would you like a can of fresh, cool, rambutan bubble water?" Instructor Y'i was rummaging in the staff cabinet and winked as she came in. "I had the privilege of being given Teacher Lindsay's famous homemade rice-rolls but I ate already and was wondering would you do me the honor of eating them?"   

She nodded and a tiny smile broke on her worried face. Apparently Instructor Y'i was trying to help her.

It has been hours passed since a student has bumped her in the hallway and caused her to spill her lunch box on the floor. Nobody reported the incident and Faith knew telling the other teachers would only made her life more miserable. Besides, the teachers would at most lecture the class and let it go.

---

Her luck was starting to improve when Teacher Vanessa returned from her maternity leave and Instructor Y'i was promoted to an adjunct professor to the financial prefecture.

Faith was left crest-fallen. She was just used to eating lunch with Instructor Y'i from time to time and enjoying the improved attention and new-found relationship with the other students. Her grades were getting higher and she actually liked coming to school for a change. 

To be continued...

Second Chance - Part I

Train Wreck

Just an ordinary morning. Heaving a loud sigh, Ne scrunched up the juice pouch and threw it into the receptacle. Pulling nis jacket tighter, ne sniffed a bit affectedly at the chilly autumn air.

Ne was about to yawn when someone bumped nim to the side, making nim step on a girl's polished shoes. She yelped then gave nim a displeased pout.

Apologizing lamely, ne returned nis gaze to locate nis rude assaulter.

"Sorry!" The young man shouted back at nim as he squeezed between throngs of commuters to catch the transit shuttle going into the medical district.

Cocking nis head, the Stranger shrugged.

---

"Made it!" The young man thought aloud as he squeezed into the sliding doors moments before it closed on him. He just caught the last train to his destination. Every day there was a cap to the number of visitors who can enter into the fortified city-state dome.

He was dressed in his best Sunday clothes. Today was his big day and he was on his merry way to claim a prestigious national scholarship that would solve all his financial ailments.  

Uncomfortable to be rubbing shoulders with the passengers on the crowded sky train, the young man tried to turn his body sideways to hold onto a rail-loop and even his breathing, but was elbowed in the ribs by a fat man. The other commuters ignored him and he was forced to press his chest to the translucent sliding doors. 

He looked outside the doors at the fast-approaching, magnificent view of the glowing city-state submerged undersea and marveled at the engineering might of the late city builders.

Much of the sur-terrain was contaminated across the Patagonia thanks to the warring Houses. Food and resources have been stretched thin or otherwise running scarce until two decades ago, when the Alliance finally struck a peace treaty with the various Houses and ended the age-old strife for power.

The young man took a look at his grandfather's old wrigit* and thought of paying the rascal homage later this evening. But first things first. Get my scholarship, go through the boring ceremony, register with the school council, then before cleaning gramps' grave I can tour the city...oh, wait, I bet lil'bro is finished with the book already. Good thing I bought a new one from my way to the hospital, after all, this is our first real reunion. If not for the meddlesome adoptive parents..., the young man thought with a frown.

The Aeriatron* was sloping down the maglev roller faster and faster and the train effortlessly glided through the scanner junction. Once through the underground tunnel and pass the underwater tube, I will finally be inside the city-state! The young man thought to himself excitedly and let out a whistle, a wide smile breaking on his chiseled face. Several passengers gave him a weird look and he quickly adjusted his stance.

---
Day 1:
Whoa, what happened? He shook his head to clear the fuzzy vision. When he reached up to touch his face, something wet and sticky made him freeze. "Oh, no, am I bleeding?" He groaned and tried to flip himself up from the floor. The fat man was squashing him and he heaved the lifeless form off  his body and sighed with relief when he realized the blood was not his own. Quickly checking for the fat man's pulse, the young man could only tear his eyes away later to refocus on finding other survivors.

"The fat man has only been dead for a couple of hours, which means I must not have been out for very long." The young man said to reassure himself.

The lights were fizzing and flashing on and off and as he surveyed the mess of broken glass panels, still writhing electric cables and inert bodies lying around, a terrible feeling crept upon him. "Hello, anyone still alive? Hello, please answer or make a sound if you can hear me!"

Something was struggling underneath the fallen hand-rails and overturned seats. When he removed all the heavy panelings away, a young lad about his age looked up at him with blood-shot eyes.

He tore a strip of his jacket and bandaged the young lad's bleeding head. Gingerly he lifted the lad up and together they stepped out into the caved-in tunnel.  "Thanks, my name is Marc Gladdenstone, what's yours?" The lad said by way of introduction as the young man sat him down gently on the wet ground.

"Rushear, Rushear Raii'deon."

"Ru- Rushheehr-ya Raii'deon? What a queer name. You aren't from the city-state, are you?" Marc said curiously.

"No, I am a refugee transfer, but I have a brother who lives in the city-state." Rushear answered unfaltering and proceeded to check for other signs of wound on Marc. "I want you to stay here, there seems to be no other external wounds I can detect. How are your legs feeling, still hurt a bit?"

"No, they are fine now, thanks. Are u a doctor?" Marc inquired.

"I am trying to become one someday." Rushear smile and said, "Now wait here, I am going to search for other survivors. From the surrounding rock bed, I suppose we are not far from the junction connecting to the tube below sea."

"No kidding, I am fine now. Why don't you go look at this segment here and I will search the next train cabin?" Marc stubbornly stood up and against Rushear's protest, wobbled to the disfigured Aeriatron.

---
Day 2 - 3:

Most of the survivors have been dug out or bandaged to the best of his knowledge but the bad ventilation in the tunnel and the damp earth have costed them two lives. Of the hundreds packed into the Aeriatron initially, there were only fifteen of them still mobile and conscious. Four were wounded beyond help and it would only be a matter of time before they too, joined the dead.

Surprisingly, the salvaged train emergency kit contained plenty of nutrient bars and water pouches and coupled with the snacks and sandwiches and whatnot gathered from the passengers, the food, if distributed sparingly, should last them one and a half weeks.

"Marc, your knees are swollen. I suggest you rest for awhile." He put his hands on Marc's shoulder and surveyed the sullen faces before continued to say in a bright tone, "I will scout ahead to see the condition of the cave-in, everybody stay close and keep each others warm." Finding the only usable flashlight clutched tightly in the hands of a shaking man dressed in a tailored suit, Rushear went over to request for the turned-off flashlight.

As he bent down, the man snapped when Rushear's hand came close to his flashlight and punched him on the nose. "Don't you dare touch my light! Who made you the leader here anyway? It's better if we all stay here. Who knows what danger lies ahead and you might not return."

"Hey, back off, Efren, give the boy the light." A few other passengers piped up and a techie-looking man called Sloan with an injured rib gave Rushear the thumbs-up. "If not for Rushear and Marc, we would still be buried under the train wreckage."

"But he's a transfer, he's not even one of us. For all we know, he might be the one who bombed the train!" A young woman whose one eye was damaged in the explosion whispered and moved closer to her unconscious husband.

"Don't be ridiculous!" Marc snapped back and went and took the flashlight from the unwilling man. "Here you go, be safe." And with a slight push, sent Rushear off.

As Marc watched Rushear's disappearing silhouette, he muttered: "With the tension still raw with the outliers, no wonder the city-state dwellers distrust the refugees. Alas, goodness knows we need your level-headedness."

---

Day 4:

The nauseating gases released from the shattered rock bed was making him dizzy and he tied a handkerchief around his face and squinted into the dimness ahead. All the power cables were out in the tunnel and he was dismayed to find the head of the train crushed and flattened under piles of solid boulders the size of a shuttle bus.

He tasted the smelly air and knew nothing would escape or permeate from the direction of the tube junction. "Well, at least we won't drown for sure." Rushear said into the darkness and began his way back laboriously. The climb over all the debris and jarred train parts and burning wires have left several welts and scars on his limbs. He had not been careful in his rush to find an exit and get out of the miasma.

Day 5:

By the time Rushear made it back to the huddled groups of survivors, he was shocked to see two teenagers tied up with cords and rail-loops. Marc was guarding the small heap of food and water and Sloan was lying painfully on the ground, with a pale lady holding his hand encouragingly.

"What happened?"

"The kids here were stupid enough to listen to Efren and tried to steal the food for themselves." Marc answered and sighed with relief when he saw Rushear's familiar face. "What, I have only been gone for one day and you guys already are revolting among yourselves? Quite incredulous, I must say."

"Right, so how goes your scouting?" A mother with a coughing little boy looked up at him and implored hopefully.

"No exit ahead, I am afraid. We should try and move back inside the train cabins. There are unknown toxic gases from the shattered rocks and I don't know how long before the miasma spread here." Rushear answered honestly and examine Sloan's injuries but his face soon turned grave. Whatever the teens used to hit Sloan, the tools had fractured three more of his ribs and if Sloan is moved now, his heart might be pierced. He turned to glance at the young lady named Aileen beside Sloan but said nothing.

"Untie the two," he said without anger and proceeded to return the flashlight to Efren. The teenagers would not believe their ears and Marc was almost outraged.

In the end he explained that they need all able bodies to help move the injured and cover up the dead to prevent disease from occurring. When by the end of the day they were finished relocating further back, Rushear asked the two teens to volunteer and retrace the train track with him to see if they can escape the way they came in.

---
Day 6 -7:

One of the teens were gripping his hair in frustration and another was fiercely hitting his fists at the crashed tunnel gate. "A dead end too, we are doomed!" One of them hollered and broke down in sobs.

Then the truth finally hit him: they were buried live under the sea bed. No help will arrive.

Trapped within the slowly miasma filled tunnel, water were leaking in rivulets from between the rocks. This does not bode well, Rushear thought, but there is no point feeling defeated, might as well hold out as long as possible and save the water and food for the young. Let's just hope the water pressure won't prevail and crush us all under.

When one teen turned to Rushear for a ready dose of encouragement and pep-talk, he found Rushear looking ill. "What's the wrong, Rushe? We can still get out, can't we? If we work together..."

Rushear raised his head and nodded, smiling kindly at the now cooperative boy. He has not made the wrong judgement and it was right to bring these two along to see for themselves. He went over to the other boy who was trying hard to stifle his sobs. "Don't worry, we still have water and food enough for you all."

"But...but, what about you and Marc? I am sorry Sloan died. We were fools, but from now on we will make ourselves useful..." The teen sniffed and Rushear thought it funny how the teen reminded him of his little brother, who he has only seen once online and had only communicated via the old mailing route over the years and by the continuous stream of books he sent.  

He could never imagine how his little brother must have felt when the social agency deemed him a perfect candidate for a wealthy couple in the city-state and forcibly tore them apart. Until now, he had committed himself fully to his studies and when grandpa passed away two months ago, he received the acceptance letter and scholarship to the prominent medical institute in the city-state.

Part of the reason he wanted to become a physician was to be able to study and live in the city-state and visit his little brother in the hospital. Recently his little brother has fallen ill from a decompression disease to the surface, trying to look for Rushear. Of course he was brought back into the city-state and the journey has left him weak, making his adoptive parents relent and send for Rushear to visit before the train exploded.

---

Day 8:
Rushear knew he did not have much time left. He was coughing up feats before he was back to the train.

He had sent the teenagers to return before him and remained on spot thinking about strategies when all of a sudden he felt a sharp and acute pain that quickly radiated up from the abdomen to the neck. He had vomited bile, mixed with blood and saliva. With a jolt of realization, Rushear knew he had internal bleeding all along and all the climbing, moving and lifting had exacerbated his condition.

By the time he was back, the number of survivors has dwindled down to ten. From the bleak looks on their faces, Rushear knew the teens have delivered the news a bit too exact.

"From now on, all my food and water goes to the women and children. Marc, you can take the rest of my supplies."

"What, no, man. Without you we would not have lasted for so long. You need to rest too and fill up. You don't look so hot right now." Marc has responded and eased him down on a tattered cushion and others nodded in agreement.

---
Day 9:
"Hey, Marc, do you have a digitpad in your bag?" Rushear inquired weakly, lying opposite from the snoozing survivors.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah, I think so. What do you need them for?" Marc rummaged in his sling-bag and produced the stationary.

Smiling his usual gentle smile, Rushear raised his hand for the writing pad and slowly but with a set determination, began to wrote on it. Marc scooted over and was stunned by the message Rushear was touching out. "Rushe? Don't scare me, whatever did you need to donate all your organs and body parts for?"

"Heh," Rushear traced and signed his signature on the reflecting pad and passed it over to Marc with difficulty, "Flip open my shirt, but don't alarm the others, from now on, you must lead them on until help arrives," he whispered softly in Marc's ears.

Marc unzipped his shirt but stopped and his hands shook when he saw with shock Rushear's chest and abdomen full of discolored red-purple patches and swellings from beneath the skin. "Rushe..." and tears began to well in Marc's usually clear eyes.

The others were looking on from the sidelines and a little girl began to weep in Efren's arms.

"Everything will be okay...you'll see, I just wish I could see my brother one more time-" and his voice trailed off.

One by one, all of the survivors started to trace out the same message and signed their individual signatures on their own pads. Marc held Rushear tightly and promised lightly in his ears.

---
Day 10:
"We've found them, seargent! There are still survivors..." From a distance, Marc heard faint voices from above and a bright flash shone at his direction.

"If only, sniff, if only, it's so close, Rushe." Efren smudged away the trails of tear from his dirtied face as the rescue team put him on a floater.

---
Standing beside the youth and his parents, the Stranger watched as the recovered Marc handed over the scratched and singed book into the slightly shaking hands of the city-state governor's son.

Rushear's brother has been cured thanked to the lung transplant from Rushear's own body.

It was an accident all along. One of the maglev conductor has cracked under the water pressure and caused the electric fuse to explode. The refugees were not to blame...

Ne cocked his head once again and sighed before fading to his realm.

Another life traded on the balance scale for another. Faireness certainly means not the same to my employer. Ne thought. Just another ordinary day in my line of work.

END

Note*:

Aeriatron = a sky train that moves within an aerial tube with magnetic rollers connected to hanging tracks much like a hanging roller coaster

Wrigit = a futuristic GSM watch phone with other handy functionalities like the present iPhone.

Train Wreck