The Light of Two Worlds

Prologue

It all started with a dream, a single dream, of a girl who wielded a silver sword on a ship more glorious than all. She sailed The Ocean with a fierce smile on her face and a hidden sparkle in her eyes. And little did she know, she was surrounded by a light brighter than any other. She went through many years unknowing of the light, living in a world of darkness. She cried and screamed for a better life, only finding comfort in her dreamless sleep. But when she found the light, which was many years after I’m nowhere in sight, she used this light to save my young, future son. But that’s not all, for not long after, she used this light to defeat the one that many adored and many more despised to their core. She used this light to save my world.

But this girl is not yet on this world. She won’t be until I do this. And I have to, even if I have to say goodbye to another. No, I’m not killing her; she will be back once my dream is over. But she won’t have any memory of the many years she will miss once my dream truly begins.

So here I stand, with this little girl, on the white sand of the beach near her home. She’s so young and tiny and powerful. But she hasn’t realized that quite yet. Her brown hair is flowing with the wind, and her puppy eyes are all happy and closed. She’s breathing in the salty ocean air, as if it’s calling to her.

Yesterday, I was visiting the city of her home when she found out that I knew how to control the light. She immediately asked me for my help. She was very confused as to why her fingers made white sparks when she snapped. She was scared, for she had never seen magic before. Not only that, but the rare few that do get magic don’t show signs of it until they’re much older. It was a total coincidence that I had run into her the day after that dream. I knew right then what I had to do.

You ready? I ask as she opens her eyes and stares into my own.

Yes, mister, she announces with a look of curiosity and a heart yearning for answers. What is this light that appears when I snap?

It’s magic, child.

Magic? Magic’s real?

In this world it is.

Then... how do I control it?

That I can teach you.

You can?

Why, yes. But I need you to do me a favor first.

Anything!

I pause, my heart pulling on my chest. This is wrong. I can’t do this. But I must, or the girl from my dream won’t come. This country won’t be saved. My future son will suffer.

I’ve already done horrible things to get the power. There’s no turning back now.

I smile a sad smile and instruct, All I need you to do is stand here and not move a muscle.

Is that all? I can do that! she answers, excited.

I’m truly sorry, I whisper, soft enough for her not to hear. But I must save my child.

I speak some inaudible words as the girl stares at me, a spark of wonder in her eyes. Slowly, a shadow appears from my palm and creeps up to the girl. She becomes enveloped in the shadow, but she doesn’t show any signs of pain. I sigh in relief. I watch as she blinks a few times as if she’s fighting off sleep. Her eyes slowly close, and she tilts to one side. I catch her in my arms before she hits the sandy ground.

Rest now, child, I whisper. I’ll go alert your parents so my dream can begin.  

Chapter 1

Once upon a time, there was a steaming hot ball of gas that floated high in the sky to depict that it was noon in the far off land called New Jersey, USA. Those standing in the right spot could see that this steaming hot ball of gas was floating right above a high school with the most normal classes that all high schools have and the best ordinary people anyone could think of.

These ordinary people include those who act like the stereotypical popular kids found in movies. The ones people are jealous of until everyone else realizes they aren’t actually the most popular in high school. They’re the ones with the makeup masks and the overdramatic gossip who really only interact with the select few they believe are popular too.

Then there are those on the total opposite side of the rainbow. They’re the ones who go under the bridge next to the school to skip the classes they’ll most likely have to take the next year. They’ll do this until they reach that age everyone dreams of and get their driver’s license. Then you never see them again until they end up on the news for robbing the local gas station. That or their clearly failed parents mention something about giving their child a credit card for groceries then having to cancel it because someone who stole it spent a bunch of money all the way in Las Vegas.

Then, of course, there are all those in between which includes the actual popular people because of their friendly attitudes and the ten-thousand clubs they are in. They’re the ones who say hi to literally everyone they pass as they walk down the hallway and are nice enough to know the names to everyone they say hi to. If they are intelligent enough, those are the ones who end up successful business CEOs I’ll need to borrow money from when I have no clue what I’m doing with my life. That will only be after I go to college for four different majors for the four different years because I’m too indecisive.

Of course, those are the extreme cases of stereotypes in this high school, but they’re still there. And out of all the stereotypes in this school, I’m none of them. I’m not known as the one who’s going somewhere or the soon to be football star. I’m barely even known as a kid who goes to this school! I guess I should be happy; I’m not totally alone. I’m definitely not like those who no one knows their name except for the teacher whose classroom is their cafeteria. I do have my select few friends, our group of five who make sure to get together for lunch outside of school once a month. We love each other and know all about each other, but we still each live in our own little worlds. There is Kayla who plays sports six days a week, a different one each season. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her hair not in a ponytail; she at least curled her hair for homecoming, but it was still in a ponytail. Then there’s Mia. She’s friends with those popular people, loves all the latest make-up, and knows all the gossip there is to know about this school, whether it involves her or not. The smartest of the bunch is Kaitlyn. She’s one of those who actually understands the teachers that talk in science language and gibberish numbers, and she even goes out of her way to please the teachers with helping after school and doing those science clubs. The craziest and most enthusiastic of us is Sara who is so invested in Yearbook she barely has time for anything else in her life. Well, everything in her life except for her fan-fiction account of whatever she’s geeking about at the moment. Last is the one that has nothing going for her: me.

I have nothing that makes me stand out from the other four. I’m not good at sports or a straight A student, though I have never gotten lower than a C. I’m definitely not into being popular, and I don’t know much about anything geeky. Well, I guess I have done a few things with music. I play the flute in the marching band, but I’m not a section leader. I’m in the current cast of the musical, but I don’t do anything except sing with the chorus. I don’t even have a one line solo in the opening song which almost everyone in the cast has. I’ve really got nothing else, and as the musical directors can tell, I’m not the best at music.

I have tried to find it; I’ve done many different activities to find my thing. Volleyball made my arms as red as a tomato, everyone who ate my turkey at Thanksgiving slipped it into the garbage when they believed I wasn’t looking, and when I volunteered at the local food pantry, I mixed up the order for the family of a single mom and six children with the broke couple who moved here after they spent all their money on their crushed NYC dreams. I wasn’t exactly fired since you can’t get fired from volunteering, but I got the clues my boss was clearly giving me. If I wasn’t so terrible at it, I probably would’ve stuck with volunteering. I could’ve been the overly sweet, community service one of the group, but I think I was doing more harm than good.

The pressure from the millions of class assemblies about finding the perfect college for the perfect job isn’t helping. There are too many options to pick from. I’m definitely not cut out for those Ivy League colleges for people like Kaitlyn. I could go to a big school with a heart-racing good basketball or football team who crushes all the others in their conference, but that would mean I’d have to choose what to major in. Then there is the tiny message of you don’t have to go to college to be successful in life when we all know that if there's a job that’s on the road to having a successful life, the first thing they’ll look for is which college their job applicants went to or what they majored in in college. I think I’m going to end up going to the community college for two years, just to put on a job application that I did go to college. Then maybe I can get a job as the assistant to the assistant of some rich guy in a successful company. I can just work my way up afterward, right?

Ugh. All this thinking of my future is so exhausting. I wish I could just wake up in a whole new world with love and happiness. No responsibilities. No decisions. No broken promises. There would be trees that would smell so sweet, and there would be friendly animals. Especially bunnies and puppies. Maybe some dolphins and otters too. And in that world, I would just walk on a clean, sparkling beach with my feet submerged in refreshing water with smooth sand in between my toes. On that beach, each breath I would take would no longer have any stress hidden behind it. In that world, I could live a peaceful, calming life where all decisions are easy to make and lead to happiness.

Alia! Alia Smith! Please stop daydreaming out the window and pay attention to what we’re reading in class. Do you need help finding where we are? Mrs. Kemon asks.

My brain scrambles around and my cheeks turn red as I realize I’m not in some fairy tale world, but instead, I’m still in English class with the sweet teacher, Mrs. Kemon. She’s so kind, that is, until we’re writing essays and none of her students follow her instructions. That’s when she turns into Mrs. Demon and becomes the scariest teacher I know. She walks around with her frightening smile that makes the jocks wet themselves. If she shows up in front of their desks and tells them to rewrite their paper, they’ll do it without question. They’ll let her rip up their paper, even if they worked ten hours the night before on it, which I doubt any of them will ever do. Those who aren’t in her class see her act all nice and postulate that her pretty smile and soft voice is the sweetest thing in the school, but everyone in her class knows that there is a devil behind those warm, whimsical words when it is essay time. Thank the Lord that there are no essays right now or I’d be dead before class is over for not paying attention. Instead, we’re reading Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet. I have no clue why; we went over the whole play freshman year. According to Mrs. Kemon, the freshman teachers didn’t teach it right so we’re doing it over now. I think she was a freshman English teacher before and just didn’t feel like doing a different play.

I’m sorry, Mrs. Kemon. I wasn’t paying attention, I answer.

It’s okay Alia, just make sure you’re listening from now on. Max, can you tell Alia what page we’re on? Mrs. Kemon asks.

I look over to the boy to my left. Max is one of Mia’s friends, but I bet he doesn’t even know I’m one too. He probably assumes that Mia only hangs with those in their popular circle and that I’m just in a bunch of classes with her or something along those lines. Max is a junior, like me, so next year he'll most likely be the starting linebacker on the football team since it’s a senior right now. He’s big and buff and beautiful. Beautiful like a fake model.

Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention either, he whispers then goes back to finishing the worksheet on his lap, the history homework that’s due next period.

I look over to the girl in front of me. She’s reliable, like Kaitlyn. Page 255. Apparently, we just finished Act IV and are onto Act V. Mrs. Kemon continues reading:

Romeo: If I may trust the flattering truth of sleep, my dreams presage some joyful news at hand...

My mind goes out the window. Yeah, Shakespeare’s interesting, but it’s only fun if someone’s acting it out or we’re watching the movie with Leonardo DiCaprio. Mrs. Kemon’s soft voice makes me want to fall asleep.

Sleep sounds really great right now. So does supper. S words are just great. There’s sleep, supper, sugar, skating, sparkles, secrets...

Secrets are great. I’ve got a secret. I’m sure all the kids in this boring class have a secret. Everyone has a secret. Some are obvious, like Kayla’s secretive crush on the Max next to me. It makes sense since both are very invested in sports, not to mention their talent in them.

Other secrets are not so obvious, like how Sara goes to Pre-calculus and Yearbook when they are both during period six. It’s like she has clones, and each has a different occupation: one in Yearbook, one doing her actual school work and going to her classes, one watching the geekiest movies then writing fan-fictions about her favorite shipped couples, and one who goes to our once a month lunch get-togethers. I know that sounds crazy, but last month during our lunch get-together, everyone got a text from Sara that had a picture of the basketball team and asked whether it was good enough to put in the yearbook. We all saw that she didn’t have her phone out when it was sent, but when Kaitlyn and I asked about it, she just said that her phone delays sometimes. Neither of us believed her, and both of us agreed she’s hiding something. I’m almost absolutely certain her secret is that she found out how to create clones from all her knowledge on movies and TV shows because somewhere in there is something about clones.

And then there are secrets like Mia’s secrets that she says is a secret but literally, everyone in our class, even those who have only heard her name once, know all about. For example, there was that one time she got invited to a party, but it was during one of our planned lunch get-togethers, so she excused herself from the party, saying she was sick. It took a day and a half, exactly, for everyone, including the girls at the party, to find out, even though no one out of our five mentioned anything about Mia. Since it was supposed to be a secret, none of the girls at the party said anything to Mia about it, but those five miles away could feel the tension at their cafeteria lunch table. Even though it caused Mia a little drama, I was very grateful she chose us over them, though I would never say that out loud.

My secret, it’s different. It’s not something anyone could just think up in their head unless it was two o’clock in the morning when they were too tired to think straight. When all the truths come out that are forgotten the next day. It’s something so hidden, my friends don’t even know that I have this secret. No one knows. It’s so improbable that even if I tried telling someone about it, just to get it off my chest, they wouldn’t believe a single word that came out of my mouth. I’ve tried to get someone to believe, so many times, but no one has. I doubt those I’ve told even remember it anyway. This secret, it’s been with me for almost my entire life.

It happened on a Sunday night. My second week of preschool was starting the next day, and I was excited. The Friday before, I had made a friend named Kayla. She loved to play soccer in the playground with the mini soccer ball and net, and when she saw me watching, I was invited to play too. She tried to teach me how to kick a ball and stayed with me when I was led to the preschool nurse’s office, also known as the corner with the Band-Aids. I was awake in bed for hours Sunday night, waiting for the excitement of preschool the next day to die down. I think I bonked my head while jumping on my bed. When I finally went to sleep, I woke up.

I woke up in a room with no air conditioner, lit by candles and a fireplace. Electricity was nowhere to be found. I was in a bed made of wood and feathers; it wasn’t very comfortable, but I wasn’t really focused on that. I was in a wooden cabin with logs crinkling in the fireplace, and I could hear the waves sweeping into the shore outside as well as seagulls swooping down for their meals. I was clothed like the poor centuries ago with every piece of clothing either white or brown. It was a little tight around my waist. Sleeping in a wooden chair next to my bed was a big man, very muscular, and he had a big, brown, bushy, beard and mustache. Like the five-year-old I was, I reached down and touched the beard. My hand melted in the feel of sheep. His warm brown eyes opened wide as he jumped out of his chair.

Anna! Silas! Angels have prayed for us at last! She’s awake! Alia’s awake! he screamed.

My body felt squished when he wrapped me in his arms. I could barely see when the blonde-haired teen and a blonde-haired woman ran into the room to join in the hug.

Oh, Alia! My darling daughter! When Silas found you unconscious by the sea last week, I thought I was going to die from the sight of you, the blonde woman said in relief.

Her eyes were the color of a summer sky. They were filled with love and worry as she looked down at me. They made me feel safe.

Mother. Father. I think Alia is actually going to die because of your suffocating hug! the blonde-haired boy as tall as a tree said.

Yes, you’re right Silas, the woman said as she let go and dusted herself off. Now, Alia, you must be hungry. You haven’t eaten in days!

Wait! the boy shouted! He ran out of the room and came back in with his hands behind his back. Mother made this for you as you were sleeping. She was so worried.

He handed me a doll that looked just like my five-year-old self, dressed as the captain of a ship. It was wearing a navy pirate’s jacket with white ruffles and a purple skirt. A navy pirate’s hat sat on top with a white feather.

I based it off of your favorite story, she whispered, her cheeks blushing.

The sun was setting, but I didn’t know what time it was. I had a fantastic dinner of clams and a kind of plant I’d never even heard of as I learned all about this dream family of mine. They acted and loved me as if I was part of their family, and soon, I would be.

They called themselves the Ainsworths. The man, Silas, and his son, Silas Jr., were fish merchants up in the town near the cabin. Anna stayed at home and took care of me as well as the household chores. Every Wednesday, she had a book club, and all of her friends’ daughters could come and play on the beach with me. I didn’t know any of the titles of the books Anna talked about, but when she did, I could tell she loved each one better than the one before. I think one of them was the one she said was my favorite story, the one with the navy pirate.

I was very excited when I heard this place had a hierarchy; I’ve always wanted to be a princess, especially because Disney movies were my life at that moment. There was a king, King Jonathan the Third, who controlled the country magnificently. Everyone adored him and trusted him to make the right choices for the country. His son was a different story for no one liked the prince. His father and mother were so busy with royal duties that their parenting skills were down the drain. This caused their child to be very spoiled and snotty, not to mention how he was as gullible as can be. Everyone believed he would bring the country to ruins. I used to wish that I could marry the prince and become a princess that helped the country before he destroyed it. Then I would’ve made the Ainsworths happy and I would’ve become a princess.

I thought I traveled back in time, with the increase in royalty and decrease in modern technology, but then they mentioned how they lived in a country called Oceanta. I’m pretty sure that was never a country in our world's history. Even preschool me knew that. They didn’t call Oceanta ocean - ta. Instead, they said it like it was that Spanish word. Oceanta rhymes with that Spanish word meaning feel: sienta. So O-shi-en-ta. I thought it was weird. Not only was that unusual, but the geography of the world was really unusual too. Oceanta was called Oceanta because it was only one out of two countries touching the one ocean of this world that they just called The Ocean. Very creative, right? There were lakes and rivers, but no other oceans.

I think they believed I lost some memories because when I asked them questions, they looked at each other with worried faces like I should already have known the answers to my questions. They explained many things thoroughly, but I was still very confused. I was in preschool after all. I didn’t know what time it was, since there were no clocks, but I know I was still at the dinner table when the sun started to hide below the ocean line. That’s when I fell asleep, right at the table, and woke up again. This time, I woke up back in my preschool styled room with my mother standing