The Revelation

When work ended for the day, Wren went home to her condo near Miami Lakes. It was an unassuming neighborhood full of townhouses, condos, and a few older homes that never made way for developers to pave a new parking lot.

To her, it was a perfect place to live. Even though her neighbors sometimes argued and listened to music loud, they left her alone. No one complained about her German Shepherd Brutus, or the fact he was probably the largest dog on the block by thirty pounds. Most of them just thought Brutus was a very well trained pet. They didn’t know about her.

The condo itself was as unassuming as the rest of the neighborhood. An end unit with the same white exterior as everyone else, and the same white metal door. A large fan palm was the only bit of color that set the place aside from the rest.

It was not much different inside. Stark white walls with little decoration, and an old tile floor running through the place. Wren never minded it, because the white was dulled by all the green she kept in the house. Fan palms, spider plants, ferns, succulents and hanging flowers covered the sparsely furnished living room and kitchen, bringing a brightness to the house along with a scent that Wren described as “a forest.”

It was a lovely, crisp scent she inhaled every evening. Just as she took the deep breath, an excited dog clicked his paws on the floor, wagging his large tail that barely missed a flower pot. Brutus’ tongue hung out of his mouth as a paw touched his best friend’s leg.

“Hey, Brutus. How was your day?” Wren smiled, rubbing her cheek on his velvety fur.

“The squirrel was outside again. I didn’t bark this time. I think it’s time we do something about it. It’s taunting me, you know.” Brutus tapped his paws on the floor, speaking rapidly. “I’m so glad you’re here! What did you do today? Was it fun? Hey, Wren?”

“Yes?”

“I have to go. And I’m really hungry.” Brutus pinned his ears back as he spoke.

She laughed, walking to the kitchen and throwing open a sliding door. There was a small concrete slab someone called a porch, leading to a green space behind it. Residents weren’t allowed to let their dogs out off-leash, but Brutus was a special circumstance. He would never run away or harm anyone.

As Brutus ran out to take care of business, Wren placed her hand on the worn handle of the fridge. She glanced at the two-person dining table tucked in the kitchen. There was only one chair at the table. The other side had a dog bowl on the floor with Brutus’ name embossed on it.

“Nothing.” Wren’s head was buried in the fridge.

“What nothing?” Brutus was behind her, waiting for his dinner.

“I need to go grocery shopping. But there’s food for you.” She said. “Want to go out with me? We’ll go to the gym and then the beach.”

“Sure!” Brutus spoke between mouth fulls of food. “I want to eat first. What are you eating?”

“I’ll get something while we’re out.” She said.

“Then go to the grocery store.” He said.

“Yeah. Then I’ll go to the store.” Wren smiled.

Wren’s gym was an outdoor area near the beach that had once been a playground. Someone bought the land and added work out equipment to it. Most people who went there wanted to show off their weight lifting prowess before slathering on sun oil and hitting the water in hopes some starry-eyed potential partner might follow them.

In the evenings, it was a quiet place where someone like Wren could work out comfortably with Brutus standing near her. Another Druid who lived in the area sometimes came along with her own familiar, a parrot who squawked at her to do more and work harder! The Druid never spoke to Wren and kept her distance. Though Brutus and the parrot always had lively conversations.

Working out was a vehicle for the one thing Wren was passionate about, dancing. As a child, her Mother put her in ballet class, hoping that the newly awakened Druid might find a more normal life among her peers. It awakened more than Wren’s affinity. She developed a love for movement and music that always stayed with her.

At first, it was to please her Mother. Both of her parents were former police officers who joined the Iron Oath as Junior Agents. Being a child of Iron Oath Agents meant Wren would also join the organization. The last thing they expected was for her to awaken as a Druid.

Most Druids find their affinity about the age of five. Some can awaken as late as nine or ten, but that’s very rare. It begins with the child hearing the surrounding animals. Domestic animals are all able to speak to Druids, but they have a special affinity for a specific type. Wren’s animals were canines, from wolves and coyotes to the smallest lap dog. Some speak to birds, others fish, and others felines.

Once a young Druid understands the animals, they feel a call to their natural affinity. Humans have nicknames for each of them, Waterspouts, Whirlwinds, Earthquakes and the rare Firestarter. Wren was what they called an Earthquake, a Druid who could tap in to the earth and its bounty. Her parents weren’t aware of her awakening until they saw their child make a flower grow from seed in a matter of seconds.

After that, they took her to get countless tests by Doctors who specialized in The Others. It was always a mystery about Druids. There was no DNA marker, no genetic heritage, or anything else that could pinpoint what child would awaken and develop their mark. It was a random happenstance for a special few.

“Special.” Wren scoffed, remembering the words of the Doctor who worked with her when she was a child.

“What?” Brutus looked at her. “You got something special? I thought you always got that thing.”

Wren laughed, taking a sip of the berry smoothie that was a frequent post workout treat. It was a tart and sweet concoction with a small scoop of vanilla ice cream in it, making it taste more like a milkshake than a health drink. A guilty pleasure that she loved having, especially when it was enjoyed after a workout.

“Nothing. I was thinking.” Wren said. “Did you want to run after a stick or just run around?”

“Throw the stick once. Then I’ll bring it back.” Brutus said.

“Then?”

Brutus thumped his tail in the sand, blowing it in every direction. “I don’t know!”

Wren laughed, picking up a small piece of waterlogged driftwood and tossing it near the quiet surf. Brutus took off with a yell, rushing toward the stick with his tongue flying out of his mouth. He dug in the water for a moment before retrieving the stick and dropping it at Wren’s feet. Then, the dog went for a run on his own, chasing the waves back and forth as the tide went out.

That part of the beach was not a tourist destination. It was a quiet spot frequented by locals who mostly left things alone at night. Wren and Brutus often went there in the evenings so he could have a run, and Wren could lose herself in her thoughts.

She took off her shoes, digging her toes into the powdery sand until her feet were buried and cool. The quiet lapping of the waves mingled together with distant traffic that sounded a world away. Water mixed with the sand over her feet, threatening to wash it away, but never completely succeeding.

Wren looked out on the water that had taken on a navy blue hue. Where the water met the sky on the horizon was anyone’s guess. Distant cruise ships reflected their lights the same as the stars did. It was a velveteen blanket of two elements, covering everything until South Florida went to sleep. But South Florida never slept. For a long time, neither did Wren.

Most children who were Others had difficulties in public schools. Druids were no exceptions. They spent their days speaking to animals near the windows or disrupting class by talking to the resident hamster. It was easier to have them in a school with children who were the same, where the teachers understood their differences and encouraged them to embrace it.

The Fallon A. Thatcher school was Wren’s alma mater. A school for The Others that handled preschool through high school. She attended with several Druid children and a few Werewolves. Werewolf children weren’t as rare as they used to be. Werewolves could be turned as adults, but two Werewolves conceiving a child guaranteed it would be one of them.

If a Werewolf had a child with a human, the chance was cut in half. That’s when the parents had to wait for the child’s first full moon to find out. The third type of Other child was the most rare, and one of the more heinous things a Vampire could do. No one turned a child into a Vampire. Unless they wanted to die.

There was one in Wren’s school. Amber. She leaned back against the sand, digging her elbows into it until she created a little arm chair for herself. She stared at the moon, watching it make its way slowly over the ocean until it would set somewhere near the Everglades. She wondered how long Amber sat waiting for it. Or if she did at all.

The child being turned made national news. A Vampire had turned a nine year old girl, causing a cry of outrage from The Others and humans alike. The Iron Oath worked with law enforcement to track down the culprit. He was caught and staked for his crime, but the young girl was stuck forever.

Some local Vampires banded together, offering support to the girl and her family. Once the transition was made, they recommended the girl attend a school for The Others. She would have an easier time with children who would understand. That was when Wren met the shy girl with brown curls and big, sad eyes. The two were immediate friends, and their friendship lasted until Wren was seventeen.

On Amber’s eighteenth birthday, she walked out to the ocean on a clear night and waited for the sun to rise. By the time someone found her, the sun sickness had set in. There was nothing left of Amber worth saving. She could not handle being stuck in the body of a child forever.

Brutus, shaking the water from his fur, pulled Wren from her thoughts. She sputtered at the salty water getting in her mouth, and groaned at the smell of wet dog.

“Hey! Not on me!”

“Someone’s here.” Brutus said.

“Probably someone walking.” She said.

“They were looking at you.”

Wren looked around, seeing nothing but the empty beach. “Are you sure? I don’t see anyone.”

Brutus pawed at the sand. “I did. It was a lady. I still smell her. She smells nice.”

Wren frowned, pulling herself to a standing position and patting her hip so Brutus would stay close. There was nothing around but the sound of the ocean and Brutus sniffing the air. It was such a still night that the slightest noise should be detected. They were alone. Or so Wren thought.

“I don’t want to alarm you.” A familiar voice called from the darkness. “I’m only looking for a donor and recognized you.”

Wren squinted in the shadows of a lifeguard stand. “Anika? Anika Hernandez?”

“Indeed!” Anika stepped into the moonlight, smoothing the loose skirt that covered her bathing suit. “Odd seeing you here. It’s mostly locals, isn’t it? A perfect place for a donor.”

“I live here?” Wren shrugged. “I haven’t seen anyone but me, and I’m not your donor.”

“Of course you aren’t.” Anika smiled. “I prefer human donors. Others have a different taste to them. Not a bad taste, but not my preference. Florian, on the other hand - he loves them.”

“I’ll leave you alone to find someone.” Wren said.

Anika smiled. “Do you hate your own that much?”

“No.” Wren said. “It’s the opposite. Others don’t want me around. On account of that badge.”

“It’s not the badge, Wren. It’s what it stands for.” Anika said.

“It shouldn’t have to.” Wren shifted her foot, drawing a squiggle in the sand. “We should be able to help each other.”

“But it’s never happened.” Anika said. “Do you still want it? Will you still try?”

“I don’t know. It’s the only place I’ve ever worked. Straight out of school and right into the Iron Oath. That was what I was supposed to do.” Wren shrugged.

“You were forced?” Anika asked.

“No. Not exactly. Guilted, manipulated, yelled at, begged.” Wren laughed. “I wanted to study dance. Becoming a dance teacher or a choreographer was my dream. My parents wouldn’t have it. They were part of the Iron Oath too, you know? Having a Druid for a child wasn’t easy on them.”

Anika frowned. “They should have cherished it. Few people get to see our side of the world.”

Wren looked at a wave pushing itself onto the shore before going back to join the great body of water. “I was just thinking about that. About them. I had a friend when I was young and they did everything to end our friendship. She was one of your group. Nine years old when I met her.”

Anika’s eyes widened. “A child? Was this the young girl on the news so many years ago?”

“Amber.” Wren nodded. “She went to my school here. My parents couldn’t keep us apart. They tried so hard. They pushed me into groups at Temple, and pushed me into company events with Iron Oath kids. I had to be like them. I never was. When I decided on college, they surprised me by paying for my tuition in full. But I had to take criminal justice and join the Iron Oath. Otherwise, I was on my own.”

“So you joined.” Anika said. “Because of them.”

“I did.” Wren nodded.

She thought back to the day she finished her classes. That was the day she encountered the smarmy smirk that she grew to hate. Jacob had more hair then, and didn’t have to attempt a comb-over. He said all the right words and made her fall in love with the idea of the Iron Oath. There was so much she could do for The Others and the Iron Oath. Her dreams of banding the two together could come true!

As the years went by, Jacob’s words turned out to be lies. They weighed on Wren, who tried to keep her head up and continued to find opportunities to make a change. After a while, words were lip service, and the changes were dead hopes overshadowed by constant hatred.

“Are they proud of you?” Anika asked. “Happy you went to the Iron Oath?”

“My parents disappeared. They left without a word. I went over one day and the house was vacant. They moved and I don’t know where they are or why.” Wren shrugged.

“That explains some things.” Anika said.

Wren raised her eyebrows. “I’m sorry, what?”

“It explains more of you.” Anika smiled. “If you’ll excuse me, dear, I am hungry. You are not a willing donor.”

“No.” Wren snickered. “I have never been a donor.”

“It’s not for everyone. Good night, Wren. I am sure I’ll see you again.”

Anika walked off with her hips swaying with the breeze that seemed to move the moment the woman did. Someone out for an evening stroll was about to have the night of their life. And a horrible headache in the morning.