North Berwick, October morning.
The clock struck 11:50 am, a young man was fixated on a blank page, rhythmically tapping his eraser upon it until he eventually rose and rubbed his eyes in frustration.
His gaze shifted to a clock above the library entrance, meticulously analysing its motion.
The clock… It seems off.
The second hand was unusually slow in fact it seemed to be grinding to a halt. His senses heightened, soon he realized the ominous silence of the library. Again his gaze shifted, this time to the people around him and similarly to the clock they were slowing down.
He rubbed his eyes, thinking they were deceiving him. When they opened, everyone had slowed down to a complete halt.
Titus was shook to the core, his heart sank to his stomach.
In the corner of his eye, he could see two small shadowy figures moving about the library. They were sifting through the book shelves, opening books then placing them in the air.
The books did not fall to the ground, gravity didn't affect them.
Titus realized he couldn't move. He couldn't hear anything as well, he was effectively lame and deaf. He could only watch as the figures carefully sifted through the pages of every book in the library, their presence was both baffling and unsettling to him.
"At last." He announced. "Hugo, we've found it. The Joseppeli." The body of the shadowy figure along with his partner grew in size to that of a human stature, the dark like mist surrounding them disappeared.
"Let's go back to the greenhouse." The shadowy figure muttered in a grave tone and expression, he surrounded the book he held in what seemed to be a dark mist, and out of it he pulled out a lustrous stone that looked broken.
The translucent stone seemed to change color from a shade of red to orange to red again. It started to emanate a strange pressure which the two men struggled against. One of the men's eyes constricted. He raised his hand toward the stone then stopped.
"We've known about this, don't fall for its influence.. Let's go."
Instantly Hugo viciously pinched his chin, then he cleared his throat.
"Sure, but don't you notice that kid? He can see what we are doing, " Hugo asked.
"Really? I am sure there are no extraordinary people here."
Hugo held his shoulder and pointed to Titus who was frozen in place to the left of them.
"He is looking at us." Hugo said.
Titus who was looking at them through his peripheral vision quickly looked away; both of them approached him then stared at him. Titus would have horror etched on his face if he could move.
"Oh, he's lucid?…but only Mandala users would even have a chance of being conscious. But I can't see anything from him... weird."
"He might be able to hear us." Hugo warned.
"It doesn't matter. I don't think he's affiliated." Miguel then kept quiet. His shadow darkened and Hugo jumped inside, followed by Miguel thereafter. They were gone.
What... How is it possible for someone to jump into their own shadow?
Everyone in the library started to move again, the clock started to move normally. As if someone decided time would flow again.
Were they the ones who paused time? Did everyone else see that?
From the entrance of the door, someone approached him.
"Wagwan,Titus."
"Ay wagwan, Asher… Did you perchance see people walking slowly just now?"
Asher frowned, "Huh, what do you mean?"
"You really didn't notice anything?"
"Oh," Asher laughed, "it's the haze isn't it?"
Titus sighed, "No.The haze doesn't do that." He placed his eraser in his pocket. Asher rolled his eyes then dragged one of Titus' locks towards him.
"Ow! I wasn't even in the haze, leave my hair."
Titus yanked his hair out of his hands and hissed.
"Stop drawing and follow me to Nando's, Damian should be working his shift right now."
Titus arranged his hair with spite then he stood up.
"Sure."
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
In a rundown building during an early morning in Mexico City, 2 figures emerged from a shade in a dark hallway.
They approached the quarters of their lord. When they arrived, they saw twenty men and women who stood before him, all waiting in silence. At the center of the room sat a man in a crimson red trench coat, lounging on a throne with a silver pendant around his neck.
They dropped to one knee as soon as his eyes met the man on the aged throne.
"Vossa Graça, aqui está sua relíquia conforme o pedido." Miguel handed the man in red the stony relic. He slowly took it with a complex expression, his eyes brimmed with adoration and a deep yearning.
"Miguel, Muito Obrigado. You have proved yourself very useful to us. With one more of these pieces, the northern scourge is as good as dead. As of today you will be O Diretor das Ilhas Britânicas." He said with a refined voice.
"Thank you." Miguel said, he bowed his head even lower.
A man among the twenty people began to protest.
"Why, meu senhor! How could you give him my title, remember everything I've done for you, should I now be discarded? I..." He stopped talking.
The man fell down to the ground and started to spasm violently, water started to leak from his mouth akin to a small stream. Those who were in the room watched as he writhed on the floor…
Miguel gave a short glance to him.
Serves you right, tubby.
The boss grinned from ear to ear as soon as the movement stopped, he scanned the room then waved his hand despondently.
"Leave me be."
---
It was a quarter past midday and Titus was running back from a restaurant, Asher who was farther ahead was waving his hand, gesturing to Titus to walk faster before the pedestrian signal turned red.
"Asher, why are you waving your hand? I'll be there soon, let me slow down to catch my breath." Titus huffed.
Asher then waved his hand more frantically, his face was stricken with fear.
"LOOK LEFT!!!" Asher shouted urgently.
Confused, but instinctively looking left, Titus froze as he saw a car speeding toward him—mere meters away. His heart skipped a beat. His body was frozen in shock, and blood rushed to his head in a rush of panic.
No, I need to leave. How could I have been this slow?
Titus thought. He couldn't get out of the road quickly enough to escape.
The car ran over him and left as quickly as it came.
Asher closed his eyes and recoiled his face, he didn't want to see what had become of him. "What, there's no way he died, did he?" He said to himself, tears began to well in his eyes. He couldn't believe it, Asher turned his head to the road to confirm the worst, but to his shock and relief, Titus was not on the road.
Asher looked around to see if maybe he was fast enough to not be hit, or maybe he was, and his corpse was lying around somewhere on the concrete. He brushed aside the morbid thought, continuing to look for him.
He was nowhere to be found.
. . .
Am I dead? Where is this place? What the hell is happening?!" Titus shouted, his voice frantic. He tried to open his eyes, but the pure brightness of the place he was in prevented him.
He was disoriented.
He could feel that the ground he was sitting on was smooth, it wasn't like the concrete road he was just on.
An indescribable warmness washed over him.
He squinted his eyes open, he could see a white figure in the distance, he could make up that he was wearing white, though everything around him was pure white as far as his eyes could see.
The man took one step and he moved a dozen meters closer to him, Titus could see him better, ancient in appearance he had dark skin and his hair was a gray afro. He wore a white tunic and his eyes were a very pronounced shade of brown, he had a diamond apparition around his iris.
He stopped in front of him.
"Can't greet your ancestors?" the old man asked, his voice deep and tinged with frustration.
Titus blinked, he couldn't form a thought. He kept quiet for a long while.
"Who are you? Where am I? And why are you calling yourself my ancestor?"
The old man stared at him, he frowned then he looked at him warmly.
"Do the youth of the world always have to be disrespectful.I am truly your ancestor, nothing else.Actually, you look very similar to me when I was on the earth... " The man stated.
Titus was now able to open his eyes well, the vast expanse of the white space before him was overwhelming. He stood up.
"You continue to call yourself my ancestor so I will not waste my time asking you again. Am I dead, where am I right now, can I go back to where I came." Titus asked.
"You can rest assured you are not dead, we are not in heaven, hell, or anywhere on Earth. You are in a place much different from anywhere you may know." He pointed to the ground referring to where they were.
"You are likely here because you almost died just like many of your predecessors. Am I right?"
"You are surprisingly right, anyways can I go back to Earth, preferably my school." Titus admitted.
"Yes, you can go back anywhere you want just picture it... When you are back in the mortal world, ask your father about Mandala. He will tell you what you need to know." Tofara explained. He came closer to Titus then he touched his eyebrows.
"Thank you but what is Mandala?" Titus asked. Tofara smiled, then patted him on the shoulder, the pat felt too heavy. It felt more like a push.
"You'll have enough time to understand, you are young after all."
Suddenly his eyes burned with a sudden heat, he felt his very vision was being stretched and pulled by a force internal. His surroundings began to twist and morph; the white eternity gave way to the warm, earthy tones of the world.