Forever Young (4)

Peter eyed him suspiciously as he tried to figure out whether the Wizard was having a laugh. "Then think about this. If our places were reversed, how would you be feeling right now?"

"I really don't know."

Peter was suddenly convinced that the Grand Wizard was indeed making him look stupid, and that only fed his anger "ANGRY, BETRAYED, ALONE, CONFUSED, DOES THAT RING ANY BELLS?" he yelled.

"You tell me," said Jaucal.

Peter turned his gaze away from the Wizard and changed the subject. "How did you know where to find me?" he asked.

"The copper shield you wear around your neck isn't a copper shield; it's a small crystal that lets us know your location at all times," said the Grand Wizard.

"WHAT?" Peter shouted. "YOU'RE KEEPING TABS ON ME TOO?"

"We had to be sure that we could find you in case the worst happened," said the Wizard.

Peter cast yet another angry look around the room then he grabbed the fake copper shield and broke the sting holding it in place and lightly threw the shield that now looked like a small crystal to Jaucal, who caught it and put it in his pocket.

The doorbell unexpectedly rang.

"I'll get it," said Saren, and she left swiftly.

She was not gone long before the kitchen door opened again. "Peter, it's for you," the Wicca said. "It's Charity."

"Just what I need," said Peter, obviously annoyed by the disturbance. When he reached the door, he waited, trying to think of what he could possibly say to her. She stood with her back to the door, facing the trees and flowers in the garden, but she was looking up at the clear blue sky.

"What do you what?" asked Peter.

"I'm sorry," she said, "I don't know why I did what I did."

"I do," Peter said.

"Can we start again?"

Peter thought about this, but he really knew that it could not be. How could he even begin to explain everything? He didn't even understand it yet.

"No, can't we just be friends?"

"Sure," she sounded disappointed. "What happened at school? Is it true that you're not coming back?"

"Yeah, listen, I've got to go. I'll see you around okay."

"Well, I'll see you later then."

Peter shut the door gently then he returned to the kitchen.

Helen was ready for him. "Peter, I'm sorry you had to go through this now -"

"I can't be here," Peter interrupted. "I can't look at any of you. I want to be somewhere I can think. I want to be anywhere but here. I want to be somewhere I feel I belong." He was looking completely disgusted with everyone there. He turned on his heel and walked to the door leading to the front hall.

Helen went to stop him, but Jaucal put out his hand. "Helen, you won't always be there to fight for him. We all must make our own journeys in life; this one must be his first. In time, he'll see the truth. Time well help him grow and bring him back to us. Let him go."

"I just want to let him know that I didn't mean to take his real life away from him," said Helen.

"Helen, you didn't take anything away from him. You did what any good parent would do, and you did what you had to in order to keep him alive."

Peter had put his hand on the handle of the front door when he heard a voice calling to him from the top of the stairs. However, when he looked, there was no one there. Again he heard it and started toward the stairs. As he made his way up, he went to Helen and Berlanin's bedroom and began pulling the drawers of their cabinet out and emptying them on the floor. When he hadn't found what he was looking for, he proceeded to do the same to the wardrobe that stood against the right-hand wall. He found a small cardboard box, and in it was some of his mother's old jewelry. Near the bottom, he found it, his real copper shield, and the one that he had made when the bullying first started in school. He thought it might protect him from those cruel children. It seemed it had worked. The day after he had worn it for the first time was the day that it all stopped. That was the day that he and Wily became friends. Peter had always worn it from that day on, or so he thought. He took it and slipped the thin black rope over his head. It felt good to be wearing the real one again. He waved his hand, and all of the clothes and jewellery flew back to the wardrobe and drawers, and the drawers back in the cabinet.

Then he heard the voice again. It became more distant, leading Peter on until he reached a dead end. Then he realized that the voice was coming from above.

Peter pulled the cord that hung from the door to the attic. The hatch opened and the ladders slid down. Peter climbed them and stood listening for the voice. There was only silence. "Is there someone up here," he said loudly.

There was a sound of sliding.

Peter turned only to see a large square object covered by a dusty white sheet just before it hit him square in the face. He was only on the floor for three or four seconds before picking himself up, and the voice returned, only now it was closer. Now it was behind him. When he looked, he was surprised to see the man he had heard about for most of his life.

"What's the matter son? Don't you want to see your old man?" said John Stark.

"I thought you were dead?"

"For the most part, I am."

"For the most part," repeated the boy, who was clearly still amazed by the appearance of his dead father.

"I remember Jaucal telling me that Wizard-Elves are born with a few of the memories of the ones that came before them, and on top of that, they have the memory of some of their personalities. I don't exactly understand it all myself. I'm here, so it must be true."

"Why haven't I seen you before?"

"You have seen me when you were younger. The reason that you haven't seen me or the others for ten years is mainly because your mind was blocked from most of your powers. That means your mind was blocked from us as well."

"Who are us exactly?"

"You'll see soon enough."

"Why can't I see now?" asked Peter enthusiastically.

"Well, you can only see the memory personalities in a dream state, and only one at a time," said John.

"But I'm not dreaming," Peter stated.

John pointed to where Peter landed after the chest hit him.

When the boy looked, he was hit this time by yet more surprise. He saw himself lying flat out on the floor.

"No," he said, denying what his own emerald green eyes were showing him, "I'm here. I'm awake. This is a trick. You're not my dad. You're that thing Ulicoth. You're trying to trick me."

"If you don't believe your own eyes, then touch the chest," said John.

Peter went to the chest, reached down and tried to touch the wooden box. His hand went through it.

"There, see?" said his father. "You're not really standing here."

"Fine, I'm dreaming. What now?"

"Now comes what I want to tell you. Peter, you have to understand that what they did was for the best for you."

Peter instantly knew that he was talking about his mother and their friends.