Dara

New Year's 1998, England

"Happy New Year," Jason cried cheerfully over the noise of the crowd. I smiled cynically. I never could see anything cheerful about the new year. It's not as if New Year's lets you start over with a clean slate. No, life goes on exactly as it did prior to the New Year and whatever mess you've made your life into, or have ever done, will go on or will always be remembered. You always know you've made mistakes and you can never forget other people's mistakes.

"Adam, happy New Year! Why do you look so down?" Jason asked. I stared at him unable to believe he didn't know. "It's 1998 man. Forget the past it's irrelevant now."

I thought back and realized Jason had only been in town two years. He had never met Dara and nobody ever talked about her, so Jason would never have heard about my beloved sister either.

I turned away from Jason and stalked off to the corner of the room. I heard my friend Matt start talking to Jason.

"Hey, my friend, it's nothing personal you know. Adam's just not a New Year's kind of guy. Something rotten happened to Adam and his family on this date a few years back and it soured Adam on the holiday. We generally leave him alone."

"But Matt, what could sour someone on New Year's? It's a clean slate type of day," Jason protested.

"His sis..." I whispered a spell that called up a wall of silence to cut off the sound of Matt's reply. Jason had a right to know but I had no desire to hear it. I had too many memories of my own. Too many memories of Dara. My beautiful, laughing, golden twin. She had never been upset a day in her life. She never cried, instead she always laughed at the world. Dara had been so happy, always thrilled with life.

Then she stopped smiling.

July 1994, England

"Adam," Matt called. I turned around.

"No, I haven't finished Super Marios Bro. 3, yet. I will get it back to you though," I said hurriedly. Matt nagged at me for days over that Nintendo game.

"Don't worry about it, Adam. That's not what I wanted to talk to you about. It's Dara. She's sitting on top of the library fiction shelf and won't come down. She also won't answer to her name. She insists that her name is Royal."

"Royal?" I'd asked. "Why on Terra would she say her name is Royal? And what is she doing on the library shelves?"

"I don't know, but Adam," Matt paused, "she flew to the top of the shelf."

"She flew? How could she have?"

"I don't know, Adam, other than by magic. I thought you said there were no mages in your family."

"There aren't," I said and began to run to the huge school library. "We've never had any mages in our family on either side. Mages are anathema in the religion." I opened the library doors and rushed in.

Dara no longer sat on top of the fiction shelves. Instead she floated gently above the shelves. She sang very softly in french with a perfect accent. There was only one problem, neither Dara nor myself could speak french. So, as I stared with shock, I wondered how Dara could sing in it and I could understand every word she sang.

"Dara," I called. "Dara!" She opened her eyes.

"Michel, mon chéri frére. How nice of you to join us. Do come up."

"Dara..."

"Michel, why do you call me Dara when you know perfectly well that my name is Royal. Come up, come up," she called chidingly.

"I've called their mother, sir," the school secretary whispered to the principal.

"Royal, I can't come up. Please come down," I begged, frightened.

"Oh, very well, Michel." Dara slowly drifted down, snagging a book on the way. She landed. I felt chilled to the bone as I thought about what Mother would say.

I looked at the book in Dara's hands and shivered. She held Queen of Sorcery by David Eddings. Mother wasn't going to say anything, she would scream instead. That book was banned to us.

"Michel, why do you look as if you had swallowed a spider? It's a most unpleasan..." Dara gasped, her eyes going out of focus. They slowly refocused. "Adam? What's going on?" Dara fainted in my arms just as Mother rushed in. Her pencil-line skirt flicked and her high heels clattered on the floor.

"Adam, what has happened here?" she demanded. Then Mother saw the book in Dara's limp hand. "Why is Dara holding that trash? I want an answer now, Adam."

"I don't know," I protested. "Dara was floating up near the ceiling. She insisted her name was Royal, mine Michel, and she spoke perfect french. She grabbed the book on her way down. Then," I paused, "she started talking about spiders, something happened, and she was Dara again. After that she passed out and you came in. That's all I know, Mother." Dara remained limp in my arms.

"What is the matter with my daughter?" Mother hissed at the principal.

"Mrs. Feron, do you have any mages in your family's history?"

"No! How dare you suggest such an outrageous thing! Our blood lines are completely pure," Mother shrieked in fury. I looked up from the floor, wide eyed.

"Mrs. Feron, your daughter flew up to the ceiling and stayed there. We did not do it, therefore she must have; to do that Dara must be a mage. This would also explain Dara's insistence that her name is Royal."

"There are no mages in the Feron family," Mother yelled. Her voice echoed throughout the library.

"Mrs. Feron, we know what we saw. Adam and Dara finished their exams today. Take them from school. Get them tested for magery. If Dara is a mage then the odds are that Adam is a mage too. If they test negative we'll look for another answer. Good day, Mrs. Feron." The principal turned and stalked out. Dara stirred in my arms. I looked down into her wide green eyes as Mother stormed after the principal.

"Adam," she whispered, "what happened?"

"I don't know, Dara. I just don't know. Everyone keeps talking about magery." Dara snickered.

"Magery, in the Feron family? There never has been a mage in the Feron household and there never will be. Our bloodlines are too good for mages." Dara mimicked Mother perfectly.

She looked at the book in her hand. "What is that book doing in my hand?"

"You grabbed it on your way back down from the ceiling," I told her hesitantly. She looked puzzled. Mother stormed back in.

"Come along you two, we're leaving." I helped Dara up. We stopped at our lockers to clear them out, and then we left. Dara never came back.

Late July, 1994

Dara's fits only came once a day, for awhile. Usually she was Royal but on the day of our Doctor's appointment she introduced us to Jeanette as she got worse.

The rain poured down outside the office's window. It fell heavily and steadily. The black sky weeped just as I did inside. As Dara's fits got worse she began to die inside, little by little. She still smiled and laughed at the world, when she was Dara, but something had changed.

"Maman," Dara's voice had a childish quality to it, "Maman? Why are we here? M'sieur Jacques Are you coming to tea with Maman and me? Please do, and please, please teach me how to make those pretty glowing balls. Please, M'sieur Jacques." Dara never begged and neither did Royal.

"Dara, that's enough," Mother snapped. Dara looked at me expectantly. A nurse glided silently into the room.

"Adam and Dara Feron, the Doctor will see you now," she said. I stood up.

"M'sieur Jacques, why do you go? You are not Adam Feron."

"Dara," I said helplessly.

"And why do you persist in calling me Dara? You know perfectly well that I am your little Jeanette."

Mother looked at the Nurse, her eyes a steely gray. The Nurse had a look of understanding on her face.

"Jacques and Jeanette, the Doctor will see you now." I held out my hand to Dara and she took it.

"M'sieur Jacques, why do we go to see the same Doctor?"

"We're being tested."

"Why? What for?"

"Because our Mother wants the tests done, and for many things." I led her into the stark white office. The walls were covered with diplomas. Two chairs sat in front of the Doctor's stark desk. Mother stayed in the waiting room. I heard the Nurse's voice speaking softly in the hall. The Doctor walked into the room.

"Hello, I'm Doctor Bryant," he said. He was short, fat, and completely bald. I stood up to shake his hand. "You must be Jacques and this young lady is Jeanette."

"Yes," I replied, grateful.

"M'sieur? Why am I here?"

"Your mother is having you tested for mage craft," Doctor Bryant said as thunder rumbled and growled.

"But mages are evil and corrupt and I am not. That is why we must kill all of them to protect our purity," Dara exclaimed shocked.

"Well, Jeanette, I'm sure you're not a mage. It's merely a formality for people your age," the Doctor lied.

"Oh, well that is all right then," Jeanette murmured.

"Jacques, will you please go with the nurse for your test, and you too Jeanette." I got up and helped Dara stand and we went with the nurse. I knew Doctor Bryant was going to speak with Mother.

I went down the hall, Dara clinging to me all the way. The walls were a chalky white and, with the exception of the nurse's squeaky shoes, the corridor was completely silent.

"In here please, Jacques. Undress and step into the booth. Some one will be along to do the test. If you will come with me, Jeanette, I'll help you," The nurse said. I walked into the room and shut the door. Dara went with the Nurse.

I stripped down and shivered as the air conditioning started. In the corner of the room sat the booth. It was about 7 feet tall and gleamed softly in the light. I stepped into it. The door clanged shut behind me, in front there was a metal chair. I sat down on the ice cold metal and longed to be outside in the muggy summer heat. Tubes and bottles draped down the walls and a roentegen machine was there for a scan. It was the reason I'd stripped. Another Nurse entered the room.

"Hello, Adam. Are you ready to begin this test?" he asked me.

"As ready as I'll ever be," I replied.

"Then we'll start by taking some blood, just as if you were donating it." I held out my arm and he attached one of the tubes and bags to it. Slowly my blood flowed through the plastic tubes and into the bag. It looked like sparkling red wine. The nurse frowned. "We'll be doing a scan next, Adam, but if you'll just sit patiently I need to speak to Dr. Bryant." He left the room hurriedly.

I sat quietly, knowing that I was a mage. The scan was merely a formality, and indeed it was. An hour later, the blood test and scan results were back. Dara and I were powerful mages.

"Dara's gifts are advancing quickly. Most mage gifts open all at once and the madness shows up, if it's there, at the onset. I'm sorry but you daughter will be completely insane by April. This schizophrenia is just the start of it," Doctor Bryant told us. After the test I'd gone out to Mother. Jeanette had left Dara to be replaced by Royal. Royal refused to leave the testing room and I was glad. I didn't want Dara to hear this.

"And Adam?" Mother asked.

"Adam will be as powerful a mage as Dara. At his peak he'll be one of the most powerful in the world." Dr. Bryant looked at me. "Don't worry, Adam. You won't go mad."

"How do you know?" Mother demanded.

"His gifts have already started, Mrs. Feron. Adam here is part of the 2% who have slow opening gifts. I'd guess that his magery opened at the same time as Dara's, or a little before. His just aren't as noticeable. Mrs. Feron, get Adam in training immediately and get someone to control Dara's gifts. Once her mind is gone, they will be out of control. I'll have one of the Nurses give you a list of names of trainers and controllers. Good-bye." Dr. Bryant left the room.

"Mother? Where does this gift come from?" I asked.

"I don't know, Adam. There are no mages in the family. Your Uncle Jake's wife has magery in her blood, but the mages died young. Jake and Tamara have no kids." Mother's voice broke. "There are no mages in this family. None!"

Mother put her head into her hands and sobbed.

"I'll go find Dara," I said. Mother didn't answer.

New Year's 1998, 1 a.m.

I left the party, my wall still up. As I passed through the kitchen I grabbed a knife without realizing it. I was caught up in a tangled web of memories and they would not let go. I stepped out into a freezing wind and falling snow. I began to walk.

August 1994

Dara's mind slipped slowly. Her fits got worse and we met more personalities, most of which were french. Royal and Jeanette were the most prominent. We couldn't take her anywhere and I couldn't go anywhere. I spent my summer by the pool, learning. Dara spent it inside with the controller. She spent her time attenuating her skill to Dara's. Dara would never be free again. I knew it and she was beginning to realize it.

"Adam, pay attention," Marcus told me. "A shield spell is very important to learn. Sometimes mages kill their controllers. You have to be able to protect yourself." He looked at the house significantly.

"All right," I sighed. I wiped the sweat off of my forehead and looked longingly at the cool blue water.

"Start off by building a wall in your mind, stone by stone. That wall will be impenetrable. Curve it over your head and under your feet. Good, that's very good. Now make it thicker. Perfect. Keep it in place but don't hold it. Let the wall go. Now, Adam, open your eyes." I did. "What do you feel?"

"The wall, it's still there." I was surprised. Nothing I had ever made before had held.

"That will always be there, unless you choose to take it down. And remember, some spells will be visual, like the shield, others are keyed to words. Now, I'll teach you to find your center."

"What is a center?" I asked.

"Your center is a place deep in side. It's the place where the gift stems from and a place of calm. It is where control over and balance within a spell comes from. It is where we work from unconsciously and where you must learn to work from consciously. Once that is accomplished you will never lose control of your gift. You will be able to do any spell you choose to learn. The center is all important, just like the shield spell."

"If that's true, Marcus, why don't we teach Dara where her center is. Then she'll be all right," I said, hope filling my soul for the first time since the day at Dr. Bryants'.

"No, Adam. Dara can't be taught where her center is. She can't touch it, and what's more it is out of control. That is why Dara is mad."

"I don't understand."

"Adam, some mages' centers are activated but they are unable to touch them. There is a wall between them that can never be broken down and they can never touch their power to control it. You don't have that wall, Dara does. You are using what power is available to you at the moment in an uncontrolled matter. Dara is being used by her power. The wall weakens her and all that power is driving her insane. Worse than that it opens her to the spirits of the past. At the very least I would say that Royal and Jeanette are spirits trying to live again through Dara. But some of her trouble is true schizophrenia and madness. She will never touch her power, Adam. That is why Dara needs a controller, someone to contain that maelstrom of power and spirits. But Dara will be so powerful that it is very likely that no controller will be able to control her. That is why I taught you the shield spell first. Now, you will learn to center."

I felt my hope crumble and die. My other half, part of my soul was doomed, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. Tears filled my eyes but I turned to Marcus to learn the art of a mage.

New Year's 1995

Over the next few months I watched Dara slowly fade away. But as Dara she always smiled and laughed at the world. In September I went back to school while Dara stayed at home. I would go home straight after school to spend time with her before my lessons with Marcus. I learned more and more about the people in her head.

Royal was a modern girl who denied ever dying. She claimed to be immortal. She hated control of any sort, but she never seemed violent to me. Jeanette was a child who denied being a mage. She was sweet and old fashioned and she had died in the inquisition. The others were fairly irrelevant because Royal and Jeanette dominated my golden twin. Every day, something in Dara died piece by piece but she laughed it all away. Her sanity slowly began to leave her and I hated watching it. I hated seeing her become a mindless husk, especially after knowing her as she was before magery, knowing what she should have been, and not what she was.

I began to sense the maelstrom of her center and it scared me. There was no control. It was wild and it burned hungrily. I never took my shield down. My gifts opened slowly and at that time the shield and centering were all I could do. Dara's power frightened me.

Then, on that day, she stopped smiling. All day an unfamiliar frown sat on her face and she didn't laugh at all. I wanted to cry.

"Why, Michel, whatever is the matter? Your face is so long," Royal singsonged out through Dara's mouth. "It is a new year. Be happy, brother mine." Royal's center was whirling higher and higher like a forest fire. The controller entered the room, her face white and strained.

"Dara, please sit down," she said.

"My name is Royal," she paused. "It's you. You keep me from my magic." Her face contorted in fury and I saw, for the first time, the true extent of her madness. The power swirled higher and stronger. The controller tightened the iron bands of her will around Royal's power. They cracked but did not shatter. Royal ran out of the room and the controller collapsed against the wall.

I got up and went to help her, but she waved me away. I went into the corner and sat down again. Tears were in my eyes. My sister was leaving me. Worst of all, I knew that when Royal left Dara's body my sister would not remember any of this. She never had before.

Royal came back into the room. "Let me go," she hissed.

"No, Dara. You don't control your power. It uses you."

"No it doesn't! You use me! You keep me from my power, from my magic! You try to control me!" Royal's power flared wildly, madly. It shattered the bonds. That was when I noticed the kitchen knife in her hand.

She sprang at the controller.

"Dara! No," I shouted from my corner. She didn't listen to me. She screamed curses at the controller. Royal struck with the knife, hitting the controller in the throat.

I cried out wordlessly, in horror. Royal stepped away from the dying woman. Blood coated her front. Royal laughed triumphantly, and insanely. My sister stumbled as Royal left her body.

Dara stared at me in dread. For the first time she remembered what she had done while having a fit. She screamed in agony. Dara knew the full truth about her fate. She swung away from me, back to the controller, just in time to see her die.

Dara grabbed the knife again. She turned to me.

"Why, Adam? Why didn't you stop me?" she wailed. I hadn't had time to get up and I didn't have enough magic to stop her from committing her next act, even though I was on my feet by then.

Dara slit her own throat.

I had catapulted towards her. Dara collapsed in my arms. "Good-bye Adam, I love you," she mouthed closing her eyes. Two minutes later she was dead. I sat there crying.

New Year's 1998

I stood beside a headstone, tears streaming down my face. Guilt churned in my stomach and clasped its icy hand around my heart.

I had failed Dara. Failed to save her, failed to help her, failed to keep her from harming others. I despised myself. I moved to stand on Dara's grave looking down at the simple headstone. I knelt down.

I had missed her every day, every minute since her death. Pain wracked my body.

"Why, Dara, Why!" I screamed at the uncaring sky. Then I noticed the knife in my hand. I stared and considered.

"I could end it now," I muttered. I stared and thought. "I would be with Dara," the knife lifted to my throat, "it would be so easy." The knife stopped. "Too easy," I moaned.

"I am stronger than this. I will be stronger than this for Mother and Marcus, and even for Father who is never there," I yelled. "If I die now I will be betraying Dara. I won't betray her, not again." I plunged the knife down into Dara's grave and said a spell. Power rushed through my arm and into the knife. It began to swell and change into a rose bush. Roses of all shades and colors would grow on it and it would never die. Dara would have her favorite flower forever.

I stood up and walked away, never looking back. The time had come to let go. I'd never forget but I would get on with my life. For Dara's sake I would live for both of us.

~Finis



Comments may be sent here. Constructive criticism only please.