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The Box's Pandora By Morpheus "Are we there yet?" I asked from the back seat of my family car, a five year old sedan that Dad had bought brand new. "No," Dad answered from the driver's seat. I turned my attention back to my DS, and the Pokemon game that I was in the middle of playing. A few minutes later, I repeated the question, "Are we there yet?" This was more from boredom, than because I thought we were really that close to our destination. "Not yet," Mom answered from the passenger seat. "We'll be there in about half an hour though." I didn't bother responding to that. Instead, I focused on my game, trying to divert my attention. After the six hour drive, I was more than a little bored. "Can I drive?" I asked, for what had to be the fourth time during the drive. I had a driver's permit, and in less than two months, I'd actually be able to get my license. "I can use some more practice." "Not right now, Byron," Dad responded with a hint of annoyance in his voice. I smiled faintly at that. If I was going to be bored and miserable, at least he'd be sharing in it. My name was Byron Houseman, and I was a pretty typical sixteen year old boy. Well, technically, I wouldn't be sixteen for nearly two more months, but I was close enough that it didn't matter. At least, that was my opinion on the matter. My parents, on the other hand, didn't seem to share my views. "I told you to bring your homework," Dad said with a sigh. "You could have gotten ahead of your class reading, if nothing else." "I can't read in the car," I grumbled. "I get motion sick." Mom chuckled at that. "But you don't seem to have any problems with playing video games." I shot a glare to the back of her head. "That's different." "Of course it is," Mom replied, in a slightly sarcastic tone. A short time later, we arrived at our destination, a large, two-story house, that was set well off the main street. The house wasn't a mansion, though with the fenced property, heavy iron gate, and security cameras, I wouldn't have been surprised if it had been. "We're here," Mom announced unnecessarily. "Dora's house." I looked up at the house, having been here only once before, three years ago. My Aunt Dora lived here, and though she came to visit us once every year or two, this was only the second time I'd ever gone to visit her. I liked Aunt Dora, but I could think of more exciting places to spend my spring break, not that my parents had given me much choice. We had just barely climbed out of the car, when the front door opened and Aunt Dora stepped out. She was a beautiful woman, with long black hair that cascaded down her back and ended at her waist. In contrast to the dark color of her hair and eyes, her skin was smooth and pale, what my mom sometimes referred to as 'porcelain', and somehow managed to avoid seeming unhealthy. Aunt Dora had what I could only think of as, an ageless look. She looked like she could easily be anywhere from her mid-twenties to her mid- thirties, though I knew she was a lot older than that. How old she actually was, I had absolutely no idea, and I was wise enough not to ask. Once, because of her pale skin and youthful looks, I'd jokingly asked Aunt Dora if she was a vampire. She'd just given me a strangely amused look, and pointed out, "I am standing out in the sunlight, and wearing a cross around my neck. What do you think?" "You arrived earlier than I expected," Aunt Dora said with an English accent. "We made good time," Mom responded with a smile. "There wasn't much traffic. It's good to see you again, Dora." "And you as well, Theressa," Aunt Dora responded with a smile. "Come in, I have tea on the stove." Then she looked to me and smiled. "Welcome, Byron. Enter freely and of your own will." I rolled my eyes at the line from Dracula and grumbled, "I am never going to live that down..." "Not for some time," Aunt Dora agreed. "I was ten," I protested, pausing to give Aunt Dora a hug. "Almost like yesterday," Aunt Dora responded with a smile. As soon as I stepped into the house, I saw all the antique furniture and d?cor, and was clearly reminded of how Aunt Dora made her money. She collected and sold antiques and artifacts. The older, the better. In fact, that was how Aunt Dora and my mom first met. Aunt Dora wasn't really my aunt, though I'd grown up thinking she was, and had only learned the truth about a year ago. She was actually just a very close friend of my mom's, and was actually the one who first introduced my parents to each other. Mom was an archeologist, though it had been years since she'd actually gone out into the field on a dig. Now she usually stayed close to home, cataloguing artifacts for the local museum. Since Dad was a college professor, who taught classes on mythology, their professional lives were pretty compatible, and often took over the conversation at the dinner table. After we were escorted to the living room, Aunt Dora said, "I'll be right out with the tea." Then she looked at Dad. "And Lucas, I remember that you don't care for tea, so I made some coffee for you..." "Thank you," Dad responded with a smile. A couple minutes later, Aunt Dora came back with the tea and coffee, but she didn't return alone. Cliff Roberts was with her. Cliff was probably in his fifties, and had short grey hair that was cut in something of a military fashion. I was never quite certain if Cliff was Aunt Dora's boyfriend, bodyguard, or both, though she never went anywhere without him. "Hello, Lucas," Cliff said in a gruff voice, shaking Dad's hand. Then he nodded to Mom. "Nice to see you again, Theressa." I wasn't a big fan of tea, but I could handle the stuff better than coffee, not that Aunt Dora had ever offered me any of that. So I sat there, sipping on my tea and listening in as the adults talked. I was already bored, and was considering how long before I could play my DS, without it coming across as rude. "Did you find what you were looking for in Budapest?" Mom asked Aunt Dora. "Yes, I did," Aunt Dora answered with a smile. "It was well worth the trip too, to get that nasty thing out of circulation..." That caught my attention, because I had absolutely no idea of what they were talking about. I knew that Aunt Dora traveled a lot, due to her business, however, she never gave many details about it when I was around. "I wish I could have gone with you," Mom told her with a sigh. "Unfortunately, I have other responsibilities now..." "Of course" Aunt Dora responded with a smile. "But you remember the last time we were in Budapest...?" "How can I forget?" Mom asked. Then she and Aunt Dora both began to laugh. Dad gave them a curious look, then said, "Now I want to hear about Budapest..." "Me too," I added, now paying even more attention to the conversation. I knew that Mom and Aunt Dora had a lot of history together, though neither of them really talked about it much, at least not to me. However, I suspected that there were some great stories that could slip out in this conversation, and I didn't want to miss them. At least now, I was no longer bored. -------------------- "Forget everything you know," Aunt Dora told me. "Forget everything you THINK you know. Movies and video games have little to do with reality, and if you look to them for advice and instruction, then you will surely be disappointed." With those words, Aunt Dora swung a broadsword right at me, and it was all I could do to bring my own sword up in time to block. Of course she was holding back and moving pretty slowly, but for someone who'd never used a real sword before, it seemed pretty fast to me. "Block like this," Aunt Dora told me, demonstrating the proper movement with the sword. "And remember your grip..." For a brief moment, I wondered how I'd ended up getting sword lessons from Aunt Dora, but then I remembered. I'd been playing a game on my DS, when she came and began watching me. I started to explain how my character uses a sword to fight, which led to her snorting in disgust and insisting that she'd teach me about real sword fighting. "Keep your blade up," Cliff offered from a short distance away. "Don't lower your guard." Mom and Dad had come in on us, while Aunt Dora was showing me how to swing a sword. "I'm not sure this is such a good idea," Dad said with a worried expression. "Someone could get hurt." "It's fine," Mom told him with an amused look. "And besides, it looks like Dora is having fun." "She's having fun," I pointed out. "But what about me?" "What about you?" Mom asked with a chuckle. I glared at her. "Traitor." When Aunt Dora was finally done, she put the swords away and gave me a nod of approval. "This is how a real sword works, not by pushing some buttons on a toy." "Why would I ever need to know how to use a real sword?" I asked her. "I mean, people use guns now, not swords..." "Very true," Aunt Dora agreed, with a faint smile of amusement. "But a sword has the distinct advantage of never running out of ammunition." With that Aunt Dora went and joined my parents, while I watched them. Seeing Mom and Aunt Dora together, it was hard to believe that I'd ever thought they could be sisters. Mom had shoulder-length, auburn hair, and a natural tan to her skin. The two of them looked almost nothing alike. Then my eyes moved to Dad, who had naturally reddish-blonde hair, which was almost entirely bald on top. However, he tried to compensate for this by having a 'dignified' beard. I took after Dad in looks, a lot more than I did my mom. I even had the same hair-color, though I hoped that was as far as it went. I didn't want to start losing my hair by the time I was thirty, the way he had. "I think it is about time for lunch," Aunt Dora announced, bringing my attention back to what was currently going on. "Cliff, if you wouldn't mind..." Lunch consisted of soup and sandwiches, which were pretty good. After the workout that Aunt Dora had given me with the swords, I was sore and more than a little hungry. I wolfed down my lunch, then slipped away while everyone else remained behind and talked. After grabbing my DS, I was about to head back to the guest room where I'd slept last night, when I overheard some of the conversation that was still going on. Being naturally curious, I paused and listened in a little more closely, wondering if I might be able to get some more details about one of those trips that Mom used to take with Aunt Dora. However, I was surprised to realize that they were talking about me instead. "Unfortunately," Mom said, "the only real interest that Byron shows in history or mythology, is when it relates to one of his games..." "True," Dad said with a chuckle. "When he was going through that Dungeons and Dragons phase a year or two ago, he asked me a lot of questions about mythological creatures he might encounter in his game..." "And that is obviously why you kept encouraging him to play," Mom pointed out. "Of course" Dad said, sounding rather pleased. "I just wish he would have stuck with that rather than getting into music. My ears are still ringing from that electric guitar..." "Now" Mom said in an exasperated tone, "the only thing Byron really seems interested in, are girls, and those video games of his..." "That is a pity," Aunt Dora commented. "But Byron is still young, and may yet follow in your paths to become a scholar." "You might consider having him enlist," Cliff offered. "A tour in the army did wonders for my son." I shuddered at that and muttered, "No thanks." I wasn't sure that I liked Cliff giving advice to my parents. In fact, I was a little worried that if our visit was long enough, he might even manage to convince my parents to send me to military school or something. Since the conversation wasn't quite as interesting as I'd hoped, and my eavesdropping was only giving me things to worry about, it was time to be done with that and to get back to my game. I was looking forward to making a bit more progress, and maybe even getting further ahead of where my friend Scott was. Suddenly, an alarm began going off, and I would have thought it was the smoke detector, if Cliff hadn't exclaimed, "We have an intruder..." Cliff burst out of the kitchen and raced into the living room, where he opened a cabinet and revealed that the inside of it was full of weapons. My mouth dropped open in surprise. Without even a moment of hesitation, he pulled out a short machine gun of some kind, and a sword. Then to my even greater surprise, Mom reached into the same cabinet and took out a gun too. "Take cover," Mom ordered, popping out the clip, glancing at the bullets, and then slapping it back in. Mom looked like she actually knew how to use the thing. "Byron. Lucas. Get to the basement." Mom was starting towards the basement stairway with us, when the living room window suddenly exploded in, with a massive ball of flame coming through it. I gaped at the sight, momentarily wondering if someone was trying to break in with a flame thrower. All I could do was stare at the destroyed window in stunned disbelief and confusion. And of course, there was fear, but at that moment, I was more in shock than anything else. I knew Aunt Dora had some valuable antiquities stored in her house, which was why she had the fence and security cameras around her house. Someone was trying to break in, to rob Aunt Dora. That was the only thing that made sense. "Get down," Cliff yelled, opening fire and shooting out the hole where the window had been. A moment later, another ball of fire exploded through the next window over, and then to the next. What was left of the curtains were on fire, as were several bits of furniture. However, Cliff ignored the fire and continued shooting. Then he abruptly stopped. "I got him," Cliff announced. "I'm going to go out and see who he was..." "Be careful," Aunt Dora warned him. "I'll go with," Mom volunteered, holding up her own gun. I just stared at my mom, wondering when she'd suddenly become such a badass. Mom and Cliff went outside, while the rest of us remained where we were. I went the hole in the wall, where there had previously been a window, and looked outside. Dad told me to back up and get away, but I ignored him. I could see someone outside, lying motionless in the yard. He had something on the ground beside him, but it didn't look like a weapon, and I couldn't quite make out what it was. A minute later, Cliff bent down beside his body and began looking it over. Then Cliff picked up the item beside the attacker, holding it up so that I could see that it looked like some kind of staff. "What the Hell is going on?" I demanded, shaking a little now that the excitement seemed to be over. I looked to Dad for answers, but he looked like he was just as stunned by everything as I was. He just stood there, staring out the window, without saying a single word. "This is inconvenient," Aunt Dora said as she came over with a fire extinguisher and began putting out the flames. "That was my favorite chair too..." Mom and Cliff came back into the house, carrying that staff they'd found outside. Now that it was closer, I could see that it was made of some dark wood that was nearly black, and that there was some kind of metal head that held a red crystal. "A fire staff," Aunt Dora said with a grim expression. "I haven't seen one of these in over forty years..." I gave Aunt Dora a look of surprise. She didn't look like she was even forty years old, which once again made me wonder just how old she actually was. The whole joke about being a vampire, suddenly didn't seem so funny anymore. "This was the only item he had on him," Cliff said. "He didn't have any ID." Aunt Dora let out a sigh. "It seems that someone has found me, after all this time..." "It was bound to happen eventually," Cliff pointed out. "You know that." "What's going on?" I repeated my previous demand. Mom scowled. "Byron, you need to go down into the basement where it's safe..." "No," Aunt Dora said, giving Mom a flat look. "Your son has reasonable questions, and I believe he is old enough to understand..." Aunt Dora held out her hands, and suddenly she was holding a large wooden box. The box was about eighteen inches wide and across, and about a foot or so deep. The entire thing appeared to be made of dark wood, though not as dark as the staff, and the top of the box was intricately carved. As I stared at it, the carvings actually seemed to be slowly moving. Without saying a word, Aunt Dora set the box on the ground, and then she opened the lid. The inside of the box was dark, and seemed to be filled with swirling shadows and fog, so that I couldn't make out anything beyond that. Then Aunt Dora took the staff from Cliff, stared at it for a moment, and placed it into the box. The whole staff went in and vanished, and as soon as it had, the lid closed...without anyone touching it. My eyes shot wide in disbelief and confusion. "How?" I blurted out. When Aunt Dora looked at me, I exclaimed, "That staff was like, five feet long... How in the world did it fit in that box?" Aunt Dora gave me a faint look of amusement, and said, "It's bigger on the inside." For a moment, I just stood there, staring at Aunt Dora and the box. Suddenly, I felt like I'd just stepped into the middle of some movie or video game, because whatever was going on, it was not normal. Not in the least. After taking a deep breath to calm myself, I looked to Mom and then Aunt Dora again, before demanding, "What in the world is going on?" "The answer to that" Aunt Dora responded with a deep sigh, "is a long and complicated one. But for now, I will tell you that my name is Pandora... and this is my box." -------------------- I was still stunned, feeling from the events of a couple hours ago. In just a matter of minutes, most of what I thought I knew, had been thrown out the window. First, someone had tried to kill me and everyone else, with what appeared to be a magical flamethrower. Then I'd watched that same attacker get shot and killed. And unlike in the action movies, where the good guys toss off a good one-liner, then shrug the whole thing off, the real thing was quite different. Someone had died, right in front of me, and that was no small thing. Of course as shocking as the entire attack had been, what was even more surprising, was what I'd learned about the people I knew. Mom pulled out that gun and acted like she really knew how to use it, and she hadn't seemed the least bit phased about going out to help Cliff check the body. And that was nothing compared to Aunt Dora, and that strange wooden box she had. Now I had a lot of questions, but almost no answers. The only answer I had been given, was when Mom said, "In spite of what society has told you for your entire life, magic really does exist. Unfortunately, we don't have time for explanations right now, so your questions will have to wait." After that Cliff went out to take care of the body, though I didn't know exactly what it entailed. What I did know, was that when I looked to where the body had been, there was no longer any trace of it. I didn't bother to ask why we weren't calling the police about this. I'd seen more than enough movies to know, that when things got weird, you usually didn't want the police to get involved, because more often than not, they'd only make things worse. It was one of those rules from action movies, with the only exceptions being when the main characters were the police. Mom and Aunt Dora began to gather all the real valuables in the house, and then started to hide them in some secret room in the basement, that I'd never even heard of before this. That left Dad and I to board up the windows, or at least the holes where the windows had previously been. Dad had a grim expression on his face the entire time, and I could see that he wasn't about to answer any of my questions either. Once we were done with our tasks, Dad told Aunt Dora, "I always thought this kind of thing only occurred on your little adventures..." "Adventures aren't limited to other places," Mom pointed out with a sigh, and an apologetic look to Dad. "I do apologize for this inconvenience," Aunt Dora said with a pained expression. "Unfortunately, it probably isn't safe to remain here any longer, at least for now. I recommend you all return home, while Cliff and I will find another place to stay for the near future." Mom gave a faint chuckle at that. "If I know you and Cliff, you already have a couple possibilities lined up." "Take care," Aunt Dora told us. "I will contact you again, once it is safe to do so." Suddenly the sound of a gunshot filled the air, and a second later, my dad was thrown back, where he collapsed to the ground. The entire front of his shirt was soaked with blood, and all I could do was stare in shock and horror. There were more gunshots, and Mom slammed into me, knocking me to the ground and practically dragging me to the side of the car. "Stay down," Mom ordered. I was in shock from what I'd just witnessed, and when I looked up into my mom's face, I saw anger, grief, and tears. She pulled out the gun that she'd taken from the cabinet a couple hours ago, and then with a yell of rage, she poked her head and arm out from behind the cover of the car and began shooting, though I couldn't see what or who she was shooting at. "Dad," I gasped, with tears already running down my cheeks. I looked to his body, which was motionless on the ground, with a pool of blood already spreading out. I had no doubt that he was dad. "Lucas," Mom whispered, her voice cracking in pain. She fired another shot. "You bastards..." I crouched further down, yet at the same time, I tried to peak out and see how Aunt Dora and Cliff were doing. Unfortunately, it wasn't well. They'd both been hit before they could get to cover, and were now trapped out in the open. Aunt Dora was bleeding heavily from her leg, while Cliff had one shoulder that was covered in blood, and the arm was just hanging at his side. However, both were armed and shooting back. "Get out of here," Aunt Dora yelled. "I'd be happy to," Mom called back. "Just as soon as they stop shooting at us..." A couple seconds later, the other side, whoever they were, stopped shooting at us. "They're up to something," Cliff announced warily. "Yes," Aunt Dora responded with a grim expression. "But we can take advantage of this pause..." But just as those words left Aunt Dora's mouth, the sky above us began to glow with an eerie green light, which only lasted for a second before it exploded in a brilliant flash. The light blinded me for just a second, then it was gone. "What was that?" I blurted, looking to my mom for an answer, though she was motionless, almost as though she'd suddenly turned into a statue. I gulped in dread, "Mom?" "I can't move," she gasped, proving that she could at least move her mouth. I looked to Pandora and Cliff, and saw that they were both frozen motionless as well. They did appear to be talking to each other, but I was far enough away that I couldn't hear what they said. However, from their expressions, it was pretty obvious that they were worried. "They can't move either," I whispered, which confused me a little, because I could still move with no problem. While I was still crouching down behind the car, trying to make sense of what was going on, and shaking my mom in case I could knock her out of whatever was going on, our attackers arrived. There were five men, who carefully walked towards Aunt Pandora and Cliff. Four of them were dressed as soldiers, wearing camouflage outfits, and carrying machine guns. However, the fifth one was different than the others. The fifth man appeared older than the soldiers, by at least ten years. He appeared to be in his forties, and had dark hair that was beginning to turn gray at the temples. He was also dressed in a nice looking suit. From nearly every movie and video game I'd seen, I knew that he was the guy in charge. "So, you are the famous Pandora," the man in the suit announced. "We've been looking for you...for quite a long time." "It appears that you found me," Aunt Dora responded, glaring at the man in the suit. "But it seems you have me at something of a disadvantage." "Of course" the man in the suit responded, almost sounding polite. "My name is Alexander Kraesse. I believe that you may have heard of me, and of my father Gregor." "Artifact collectors," Aunt Dora stated with a look of distaste. "And mobsters." Alexander looked rather pleased by that perhaps simply because she recognized his name. "Over the last three decades, you have stolen several priceless artifacts out from beneath us..." "You mean, I kept them from falling into your hands," Aunt Dora responded. Then she glanced to Cliff, who was frozen like a statue beside her, though still bleeding from his shoulder. "How are you doing this? What kind of artifact are you using?" Alexander gestured to one of the soldiers, who stepped forward and held out some sort of stone figurine. I was too far away to make out any details, but Aunt Dora seemed to recognize it. "The Peacemaker," Alexander calmly explained. "An idol representing a forgotten goddess of peace... When used, it stuns anyone wielding a weapon..." He looked rather pleased with himself. Aunt Dora's eyes narrowed. "And the man with the fire staff...?" "A...canary, if you will," Alexander answered. "I sent August to test your defenses, and see what we would be facing. But more importantly, I sacrificed a useful artifact in order to confirm that you really are the woman I was searching for...and that you had the box with you." Then he stared at Aunt Dora for several long seconds, before commanding, "Now make that box appear." "It will do you no good," Aunt Dora responded grimly. "The box is not meant for you or yours." "Present the box NOW," Alexander demanded, pulling out a handgun and pointing it right in Aunt Dora's face. "Byron," Mom gasped from beside me, still frozen motionless. "I can't see what's going on..." I realized that she was facing in a different direction, and though she was moving her head a little, her whole body was positioned at the wrong angle for her to ever see anything. "Tell me what you see." "This Alexander guy has a gun," I whispered nervously. "And he's pointing it at Aunt Dora..." Mom's eyes widened at that. "The Peacekeeper... The effects haven't worn off yet, but it isn't active anymore..." For a moment, I wondered what Mom was getting at, and why she'd abruptly stopped. Then it hit me. I was terrified, but also angry and desperate. I grabbed the gun right out of Mom's hands. "No," Mom exclaimed. "They'll kill you..." However, I was already sure that I didn't have anything to loose. Alexander and his people had already killed Dad and looked like they were about to kill Aunt Dora and Cliff too. I had no doubts that when they were done, they'd come over here to finish us off as well. After all, it would be a bad idea to leave witnesses around after what they'd already done. While I was taking Mom's gun, Aunt Dora was doing what Alexander asked. Suddenly, that wooden box that I'd seen earlier, appeared on the ground, right in front of her. Alexander stared down at it with a hungry expression. Then he bent down to try opening the lid, though it didn't budge. "Open it," Alexander commanded. "I am unable to move," Aunt Dora reminded him, with her tone suggesting that what she really meant was, "You're an idiot." "There are many ways to open a locked safe," Alexander stated grimly. "I no longer need you." With that he pulled the trigger and shot Aunt Dora in the face. "NO," I cried out in horror as Aunt Dora's body collapsed to the ground. I pulled the trigger and tried to shoot Alexander, but one of the men beside him was hit instead. I silently cursed myself for not shooting sooner. If I had, Aunt Dora might still be alive. Or, I realized as I fired two more shots and missed hitting anyone, I might have hit her by accident. Still, I continued shooting, while Alexander and the soldiers dove for cover. Suddenly, Mom let out a gasp and exclaimed, "I can move again..." She snatched the gun out of my hands, then fired two shots of her own. Both of hers hit their targets, two of the soldiers who'd just begun to shoot at us. A moment later, I realized that Mom wasn't the only one who could move again. Cliff lunged forward, shooting one of the soldiers in the head, and then trying to do the same to Alexander. However, Cliff's gun had either jammed or ran out of ammunition, because nothing happened. With only a moment of hesitation, he dropped the gun and drew his sword, which actually began to glow with a faint blue haze around the blade. "What the...?" I started, only to stop myself. I'd already seen more than enough weird shit and magic in the last few hours, that I shouldn't be shocked by seeing it one more time. "Get the box," Alexander commanded, shooting at Cliff, who leapt to the side positioned himself so that one of the soldiers was between him and Alexander. "What box?" the soldier responded, pointing to where Aunt Dora's box had been mere seconds earlier. Now the spot was empty, and there was no sign of the box. Alexander blurted out something in another language, which had the sound of a profanity. Then sounding angry and almost desperate, he demanded, "Where is that box?" Cliff lunged forward, using his good arm to swing the glowing sword. It sliced right through a soldier, who fell to the ground in two pieces. "Without Pandora, there is no box," Cliff snarled furiously. "You just killed the only person in the world who could get it." With that Cliff charged towards Alexander, who suddenly grabbed at an amulet around his neck, and began to glow. Cliff's sword hit Alexander, and then bounced right off without any effect. "I would kill you if I could," Alexander said with a look of anger. "But this protection prevents me from taking any hostile action." Another of the soldiers seemed to be using this distraction to take aim at Cliff, until Mom shot him in the head. When the soldier fell, Alexander snarled, muttered what I assumed were profanities in another language, then turned and ran away. "He'll be back with reinforcements," Cliff said with a grimace. "To search the house for artifacts, if nothing else." "We have to get out of here," Mom said grimly. She bent down beside Dad, and I saw tears pouring down her cheeks, which were a match for the ones on my own. "We don't have time..." "I know," Cliff said, looking to Aunt Dora. Or at least, he stared at the spot where Aunt Dora had died. Her body was no longer there, apparently vanishing the same way her weird box did. Then with a pained expression, he quietly said, "I failed you. It was my job to protect you, to keep this from happening. I'm sorry." A minute later, we looked over our car, which now had a couple dozen bullet holes in the side. Two of the tires are flat, and from the position of a couple of the bullet holes, I wasn't very optimistic about the engine. Our car wasn't in any condition to drive, or to be inconspicuous even if we could drive it. Fortunately Aunt Dora had a couple vehicles in the garage, a big van to hall things around in, and a silver Lexus sedan, which looked like it would be fun to drive. After Mom fixed Cliff up, using an emergency medical kit in the garage, we quickly threw our bags, some weapons, and some emergency items into the Lexus, and tore out of that driveway as fast as we could. Alexander was still out there and nearby, and we didn't want to risk running into him again, especially if he came back with reinforcements. Mom was behind the wheel, not saying a word as she drove. Cliff was in the passenger seat, having called shotgun...literally. He had a shotgun with him, as well as that magic sword and a pistol. There were even more weapons in the back seat with me, and in the trunk. I just stretched out in the back seat and collapsed in exhaustion, the emotional kind even worse than the physical. However, as I shifted positions, my hand settled on something in the seat beside me, something hard and wooden, which hadn't been there a few minutes before. Then I finally looked, and was surprised to see a now familiar looking wooden box. -------------------- The motel bathroom was old, out of date, and actually a lot cleaner than I would have expected from a place like this. The motel looked like it hadn't been remodeled since the 70's, but it was well taken care of. After doing my business, I washed my hands and then looked into the mirror above the sink. There was a crack going through the mirror, but I could still see myself. I looked even worse than I felt, and I felt like shit after watching my dad and Aunt Dora get murdered earlier today. When I left the bathroom and stepped back into the room I was sharing with Cliff, I was surprised to see the wooden box sitting on my bed. I glanced to Cliff, who was sitting on his own bed on the other side of the room, staring across at the box. "I thought you and Mom said we should leave this in the car," I said, feeling confused. When Mom first saw the box in the back seat, she went pale and stared at it with a look of shock, and almost horror. However, the only thing she said is, "Don't touch it." She refused to talk about it again until we stopped for the night in this model, and then, all she did was repeat her previous instructions to not touch it. "We did," Cliff answered with a deep scowl. "I didn't bring it in, and neither did your mom." "Then how...?" I started to ask, until remembering that it was some kind of magic box. I'd seen it suddenly appear out of nowhere twice before. Cliff picked up his cell phone and made a call. "Theressa, you'd better get over here. Now." Mom rushed over from her room next door, and nearly burst through the door just seconds later. She was about to say something, then paused to stare at the box. "Did you...?" she started. "No," Cliff answered. "Neither of us touched it." Mom's eyes widened. "No..." She snapped around to stare at me with a worried expression, then turned back to the box. "No. Not Byron. Choose someone else." Of course there was no response. "Choose me for what?" I demanded, desperate for answers. I'd spent several hours crying over what had happened to Dad and Aunt Dora, but now, I wanted to know why. I needed to know why this had happened, and so far, Mom and Cliff had been completely silent. "What the hell is going on? Why did those people attack us? WHY DID THEY KILL DAD?" For a moment, Mom just stood there, then whatever strength that she'd been using to keep going, drained out of her. She suddenly looked completely and utterly exhausted, in every sense of the word. "The box," she said, staring at the box again, and then at me. "They wanted the box." "I saw that much," I answered, though I still had absolutely no idea of why. Mom sat down on the edge of the bed, being careful not to touch the box. She had a haunted look in her eyes as she stared at up me. Whatever this was, it wasn't good, but I already knew that much. "Magic," Mom said with a sigh. "As you've already seen today, magic is real." "Yeah," I said, grabbing an uncomfortable wooden chair that was sitting in the corner, and moving it closer to Mom before I sat down. "I saw that." "I don't know how it works," Mom explained. "I don't think anyone truly understands it, but Dora had some theories. She always thought that magic was like the ocean, and that came and went like the tide. At high tide, magic flooded our world and brought things with it. Things like gods and monsters. Then like the tide, it recedes, taking most of those things back out with it." "The tide went out a long time ago," Cliff said. "We're at low tide now." "Even when the tide goes out," mom continued, "there are still a few scattered tide pools." She gave a faint, almost pained smile. "Magic left, but a large number of magical artifacts were left behind. These are the tide pools that remain at low tide. Some of them are powerful, and many of them can be extremely dangerous." "Like that fire staff," I said, remembering the guy who first attacked us. "Or that Peacekeeper thing." "Yes," Mom answered. "Or Cliff's sword." I glanced to Cliff, and the sword and scabbard that were leaned up against the wall beside his bed. He merely nodded, not saying a word. "One of the most powerful of these artifacts is Pandora's box," Mom stated with a deep scowl. Her eyes went to the wooden box on the bed. My eyes went wide at that. "Wait... Like the myth?" "Exactly like the myth," Cliff said. "Maybe," Mom added a moment later, confusing me. She gave me a wry smile before explaining, "Nobody knows for certain if this is the same box as from the myth, or if people just assumed it was due to the similarities. The person who owns this box is always called Pandora, which is both name and title. But again, we don't know if this went back all the way to the original Pandora of myth, or if one of Dora's predecessors had simply been named after the Pandora of myth." I stared at the box, my eyes drawn to the intricate carvings on the lid, which slowly moved and shifted as I watched. Dad had been a professor of mythology, so this was exactly the kind of thing he would have been fascinated by. I wanted to ask him what he thought, but that just made my heart ache and the tears begin to come again. "I don't know where the box originally came from," Mom admitted, "or who created it, and neither did Dora. I've spent twenty-five years researching it, but all I've found were contradictory stories and rumors. Dora was the world's foremost expert, and even she only had vague ideas and rumors of its origins." "But what does it do?" I asked grimly. "Why did those people want it?" I stared at Mom, noticing that she was dancing around the answers, trying to take her time getting to them. Mom scowled, pinching the bridge of her nose, which was something she often did when stressed. "It is...a vault," she finally said. "To store other magic artifacts and keep them safe." "To keep them from causing trouble," Cliff added. "Maybe," Mom corrected him. "The truth is, we don't know the exact purpose any more than we know where the box came from. Not for certain. However, Dora had always believed that the box was there to lock away the other artifacts, to keep them safe and out of human hands until magic came back." "And that's why she put that magic staff in there?" I asked, staring at the box again. Mom nodded. "Yes. Dora was always searching for magic artifacts, so she could put them into the box. That's how I first met her..." Mom gave me a pained smile. "I found something on a dig, something that I couldn't explain. Then Dora came along looking for it..." Cliff gave Mom a thoughtful look. "Dora said it was some kind of amulet..." "Yes," Mom agreed. "It gave good luck to whoever was wearing it, but bad luck to everyone around them." This was the very first time I'd ever heard about Mom having a magic amulet, and I was pretty sure that I hadn't seen anything like that around the house. Well, Mom had brought lots of old jewelry and stuff home, but none of it looked like it was magic. "I became Dora's companion," Mom explained with a faint smile. "I spent years, traveling the world with her, looking for artifacts. And during this time, I met your father, who was one of Dora's research contacts." I didn't know what to say or think about all this. I'd never known about this part of my mom's life, and I had a hard time believing that she'd been running around the world, looking for magic artifacts like some kind of Indiana Jones. However, after what I'd seen today, and how my mom had reacted to the danger, it was hard to doubt too. "So, this Alexander guy wants the box," I said, trying to get Mom back on track. She was starting to cry a little, and I was too. I wanted... needed to distract myself from Dad's loss. "Because it has a bunch of magic stuff inside?" "The box contains an arsenal of artifacts," Cliff said. "Some are powerful weapons. Some don't do anything useful at all..." "So, this box is like that Warehouse Thirteen show on TV," I said, thinking of a TV show from a couple years ago, where the main characters ran around collecting magic items, then hiding them away inside of a giant warehouse. "Very much so," Mom admitted. "Fortunately very few people even know it exists." "But these guys do," I said, my voice cracking as I did. "Unfortunately, yes," Mom replied. "Tell him the rest," Cliff said, fixing his gaze on Mom. He gestured to the box. "I think he needs to know..." "You're right," Mom said, giving me another worried look. "You do need to know..." "Know what?" I demanded suspiciously, wondering what it was that she was still dancing around. "The box requires a host," Mom said carefully. "When one host dies, it finds a new one. The host is always called Pandora, which as I said awhile ago, is both name and title. Pandora is the only one who can open the box." "So, if there isn't a Pandora," I thought aloud, "then the thing stays locked?" "I wouldn't count on that keeping the box out of the Kraesse's hands," Cliff stated with a grimace. "Not now." "Byron," Mom said, putting a hand on my shoulder. "I think the box has already chosen its next Pandora. I think...it may have picked you." "What?" I gasped in surprise and confusion. "It has been following you," Mom explained with a sigh. "When it appeared in the car, I thought it had come for me... But then, it came here..." She gestured to the box. "I think it chose you to be the next Pandora." "Why?" I asked, staring at the box. I wasn't sure if it I was asking it or Mom. "Why me?" "I don't know," Mom said with a deep scowl. "I have no idea what criteria the box uses to choose the next Pandora, and I'm not sure Dora ever did either. She said that she used to be a servant to the previous Pandora, before she'd been chosen. Physical proximity seems to be a part of it, but there are probably other criteria as well." Cliff looked at Mom. "I would have thought it would pick you..." "Me too," Mom admitted. "I would seem to be the most qualified person, probably within a thousand miles. I'm an archeologist, have experience with artifacts, and I'm familiar with the box...and Dora." Mom stared at me for several long seconds, making me extremely uncomfortable. Again, I had the distinct feeling that she was leaving something out, that she was still dancing around what she wanted to tell me. "What aren't you telling me?" I finally blurted out. Mom and Cliff shared a look. "If the box has chosen you," Mom said, giving the box in question a glare, "then I don't think there's anything we can do. We might be wrong...and there might still be time..." "Maybe it hasn't made up its damn mind yet," Cliff said. "Choose someone else," Mom ordered the box. "Choose me if you need, but please, leave Byron alone." The box didn't respond. Mom's reactions were really starting to freak me out, and after everything I'd already seen today, I hadn't though that I had enough energy to get freaked out any more. "I don't want to worry you any more than necessary," Mom said. "And we don't know if it really has picked you to be the next Pandora..." "I hope not," Cliff said. "It would be good to know where the box is, but..." "Well, I am worried," I blurted out. "What do you mean? What aren't you telling me?" Mom and Cliff shared another look, before Mom said, "I'll explain in the morning. We should know whether the box really has chosen you or not, by then." After this, Mom carefully picked up the box and left my room with it. I tried not to get all worried and worked up, but it didn't help. Between that and my dad's murder, I didn't think I'd ever be able to sleep. However, sleep still claimed me the moment my head hit the pillow. -------------------- I didn't know where I was, only that it was dark, and I was surrounded by a thick fog on all sides. There was no visible source of light, yet I could still see around me, at least enough to clearly make out myself and the fog. Then I began to see images in the fog, shadows that moved and seemed to approach. In moments, they stopped, and I could see human shaped silhouettes on all sides of me, though they were no longer coming closer, and they remained too far into the fog for me to make out any details. "Hello?" I called out nervously. I wasn't afraid. At least, that was what I tried telling myself. However, I had absolutely no idea where I was, or how I'd come here, so I had plenty of reason to be scared. The last thing I remembered before waking up here was... "I went to bed," I whispered in realization. "I'm dreaming." Though I was now sure that I was dreaming, I was still worried and confused. This was unlike any dream I'd ever had before. Somehow, it felt so real. A moment later, almost as if the figures in the fog had been waiting for this realization, they began to step forward and emerge. "Aunt Dora," I blurted out as soon as I recognized the person who stepped out of the fog. It was Aunt Dora, who was even wearing the same clothes she'd had on when she'd been killed, mere hours ago. Seconds later, I noticed the other figures who'd emerged from the fog, seven of them in total. Eight, if I counted Aunt Dora among them, which I did. After all, each and every figure that stepped out of the fog, looked exactly like her. I was now surrounded by eight versions of Aunt Dora, each of them identical to her, except for the clothes and hair styles. But as I slowly looked around, staring at them, I realized that there were other differences too, differences in posture and body language. "We are Pandora," all eight women said at the same time, in the same voice. The accents and pronunciations were each different, but beneath that they still sounded like the same woman. One Pandora was wearing a very old fashioned dress, something that looked like it probably would have fit right in during the renaissance. Most of the others wore dresses as well, though of even older styles, and less fancy. However, one wore what appeared to be a toga, and another was dressed in some kind of leather armor, and held a spear in her hands. But of course, the one my eyes settled on, was the one I'd watched get murdered. "Aunt Dora," I said again, my voice catching in my throat. My eyes began to tear up. "I am but a shadow of the woman you knew," Aunt Dora answered in a quiet, almost sad voice. "An echo of the last Pandora. I am sorry that you have been chosen as her successor, as she never would have wished this burden on you." I stared at Aunt Dora, or at least, the thing that looked like her. Was this Aunt Dora's ghost? "Who are you?" I demanded. "What are you?" "We are Pandora," all eight women answered simultaneously. "What do you want?" I demanded, feeling more than a little creeped out. However, I remembered what Mom had told me before I'd gone to bed, and the fact that she'd still been holding back something important. "What's happening?" "The box has chosen you as the new Pandora," Aunt Dora explained. "This is blessing and curse. Gift and burden. Priviledge and responsibility." "What if I don't want it?" I demanded. "What if I say no?" Aunt Dora gave me a sad look. "There is no escaping this fate. You are becoming Pandora." I gave her and the other Pandoras a defiant glare. "Where have I heard that before? Oh yeah, Star Trek. It's the whole resistance is futile, you will be assimilated thing..." "The box has already chosen you," Aunt Dora said apologetically. "The deed has already been done." "No," I gasped, quickly looking around for a way to escape. I was surrounded by eight Pandoras, and even if I could slip past them, the only place to go was into that dark swirling fog. I didn't know what they were going to do to me, but I didn't want to be stuck with that magic box. Aunt Dora and my dad had both been murdered for that thing, so I didn't want anything to do with it. Aunt Dora slowly came towards me, holding her hands out to show that she was unarmed. "We will not hurt you," she promised. "We cannot hurt you. You are one of us..." Then she reached out to put a hand on my shoulder and stated, "We are Pandora." With those words, Aunt Dora moved back to her previous position, and the next Pandora came forward. This was the one in the nice renaissance style dress. "Only we understand the burden you assume," she said, before kissing me on the cheek. "We are Pandora." The renaissance Pandora went back to her position, and a third one came to me. "We are the keepers of the box," she told me. "Ours is the honor of keeping the box safe and hidden, out of the hands of those who would abuse it and its contents." She gave me a small bow, then reached out to take my hand. "We are Pandora." Seconds later, the fourth Pandora approached me. "We are the servants of the box," she said. "Ours is the duty of serving its purpose, of safeguarding the shards of magic until their time comes." Each time one of the Pandoras approached me, I lost a little of my fear and apprehension. Instead, I felt a strange connection to them, and it only grew stronger with each additional Pandora. When the last of the woman came to me, she said, "We are a part of you, just as you will become a part of your successors." And then, as with the others, she touched me and stated, "We are Pandora." Once the last Pandora had returned to her position, I knew what was going to come next. As one, they all announced, "We are Pandora," but this time, my own voice was added to those words. -------------------- I sat up in bed, and without consciously meaning to, I whispered, "I am Pandora." With those words spoken, I instantly remembered my dream. It had been so clear and vivid, that I had no doubt that it was more than just a dream. I could feel the truth of that through every fiber of my being, all the day down to my soul. I was Pandora, even though I didn't fully understand exactly what that meant yet. When I climbed out of bed, I wasn't surprised to find the wooden box sitting on the floor beside me. The truth was, I'd known it was there already. I could...feel it, even if I hadn't consciously realized I could until that moment. Then as I considered the strange connection I had to the box, I was suddenly able to see it. A thick strand of golden light, stretched between me and the box, almost as though we were tied together. One end came out of the front of the box, while the other end, went straight into my navel. I ran my hand through the strand, but my hand passed through it as though it wasn't even there. But in spite of the fact that it wasn't there, I could still see and feel it. "What the...?" I started to ask, but the answer was obvious. I'd been told that I was now connected to the box, but this was a little more literal than I'd realized. A few seconds later, I turned my attention away from the thread, and it faded away from my view, so I could no longer see it. However, I could still feel it...and the box. And when I focused on the thread again, it once again became clear and visible to my eyes. "So, you really are the new Pandora," Cliff said, making me jump because I hadn't realized that he was awake. He sat up in bed and carefully touched his injured shoulder, and the bandages covering it. There was a wince, but he made no sound. "I'm sorry for that." "It's not your fault," I said. Aunt Dora was the one who'd died, leaving me to get stuck with it. That Alexander guy was the one who'd murdered her. And of course, the box was the one who'd picked me, though how a box could pick anyone, or even have an opinion, still didn't make much sense to me. However, there was magic involved, and I had absolutely no idea how that stuff really worked. After letting out a sigh, I went to the bathroom to take care of my business. I could still feel the box and my connection to it. When I looked back at the thread, it had stretched out and actually went through the door, even with the door closed. It was there, yet it wasn't. I shook my head at that suspecting that I was the only one who'd be able to see it. So far, I'd only been awake for ten minutes, and already, I'd been faced with some pretty strange things. However, I quickly discovered that as strange as my morning had been so far, it was only going to get worse. When I relieved myself, I was immediately struck with the sense that something was wrong with my body, but it was hard to pin down what. But then, I looked into the mirror and gasped in surprise. "My eyes," I blurted out, reaching to the mirror. Normally, my eyes were a bluish-grey, but now, they'd changed color. They were dark, nearly black. "Just like..." I was shaken by the realization that my eyes were now the same color as Aunt Dora's...and every Pandora in my dream. It wasn't until then that it dawned on me, that every Pandora looked the same...except for me. I was the only one who didn't look exactly like Aunt Dora. A cold knot formed up in my stomach as I considered why they all looked alike. "No," I whispered. I ran my hands though my hair, which was noticeably darker than normal, as well as a couple inches longer. My skin looked a little pale, which wasn't a big deal, except I also noticed that several of my scars from childhood accidents were gone. For the last five years, I'd had a long and nasty scar along my left ankle, courtesy of getting caught in some barbed wire, but now, I could barely make it out at all. I was changing. "I'm turning into Pandora," I whispered in dread. Suddenly, I knew what Mom hadn't told me last night, and I understood why. From what I saw in my dream, every Pandora looked like Aunt Dora, and if I was now Pandora... I closed my eyes, screaming in silent frustration. It was no wonder Mom hadn't wanted to tell me. I couldn't imagine any easy way of telling me that I might end up turning into a girl. "Maybe I won't turn into a girl," I told myself hopefully. "Maybe I'm going to turn into a boy version of her..." However, I had a hard time believing that. I was already starting to look a little feminine and girly, which included my junk being smaller than normal. When I came out of the bathroom a couple minutes later, I was in a sour mood. Cliff was already dressed, and gave me a worried look. He glanced to the box and scowled, though he still didn't say anything. Instead, he pulled out all his weapons and spread them out on his bed, and began looking them over, as if he wanted to make sure that he knew exactly what he had available. I got dressed, and just in time, because Mom arrived just a couple minutes after that. She came into our room and took one long look at the box, not seeming the least surprised to see it there. Unhappy, but not surprised. Then she stared at me, and I could see the worry in her eyes. "Honey," Mom finally said, wincing at the sight of me. "I'm... I'm so sorry..." With a nod, I sat down on my bed and let out a sigh. My eyes went to the box, and I stared at it for several seconds before saying, "Last night, I had a dream." I looked to Mom. "I dreamed about Aunt Dora and the other Pandoras. They...they said I'm one of them now." Mom came over and ran a hand through my hair, obviously noticing the new length and color. "Everything will work out," she said, though I suspected that she was trying to convince herself even more than me. "Everything is going to be fine." "Is it?" I demanded, with tears starting to form. "Those guys murdered Dad and Aunt Dora... Now I'm changing..." I clenched my firsts in frustration, not sure how to express what I was feeling, other than just screaming. "If the Kraesses find out that there's a new Pandora," Cliff pointed out grimly. "Or that they still have a chance at the box..." "I know," Mom said. "We can't let that happen." "So, what now?" I asked, just trying to keep from freaking out. "Am I going to keep changing until I look like Aunt Dora? Does that happen with everyone who gets the box?" Mom was silent for a moment, then nodded. "I'm not sure," she admitted. "But I believe so." She took a deep breath. "Dora once told me that she used to look quite different. When she was young, she was a servant for her predecessor, the previous Pandora. When that Pandora died, the box came to Dora, and changed her so that she looked just like her predecessor." Mom smiled faintly, though it was a somewhat pained smile. "She said that she took her predecessor's identity, and just pretended to be her. It was easier than explaining who she really was..." "And a lot better to be the rich lady, than the poor servant," Cliff added with a forced chuckle of his own. Mom nodded at that. "Dora believed that she and her predecessors all looked alike, because they were all modeled from the first Pandora, or at least, the woman who was first bound to the box. I don't know if the first Pandora was bound to the box by whoever created it, or if the box chose her the way it did the others. However, Dora believes...believed that the box imprinted on her specifically, because she was supposed to be the only one tied to it, and that there was never supposed to be anyone else after her." "It obviously didn't work out like that" I pointed out with a snort. "No plan survives engagement with the enemy," Cliff stated. "Things may not have gone according to plan," Mom agreed. She gave me another worried look, and continued, "What I do know, is that the box tries to protect the person it is bound to. It tries to keep Pandora alive." She closed her eyes for a moment, then stared intently at me. "Whenever it finishes changing you, you'll stop aging. You'll never age again after that. You'll never get sick. And whenever you get injured, you'll heal at amazing speeds. I've seen Dora lose an arm, only to grow it back in less than a week." "Wait," I gasped, staring at my mom in disbelief. "Then that means..." "You aren't immortal," Mom said quietly. "None of the Pandoras were. But...you won't ever die of natural causes either. As it is, if you're lucky and careful, you might live for a VERY long time." She took a deep breath, looking almost pained again. "Dora was over four hundred years old..." "If something doesn't kill you right off," Cliff added with a deep scowl, putting his hand on his pistol in order to let me know what he meant, "then you'll be able to heal from it in no time at all, no badly how bad you're injured." "But why is it changing me?" I asked in a shaky voice. "Because," Mom answered carefully. "The blueprint that the magic uses to...heal...appears to be based off the first Pandora. Dora thought that whoever created the box, never expected that she'd be killed, or that the box would then replace her." With a gulp, I stared at the wooden box, which was still where I'd found it this morning on the floor. "And it turns the replacements into her...like it's trying to make a new part...that's an exact copy of the one it's replacing." "That is what Dora believed," Mom said with a sigh. "But I don't think we'll ever know for sure. There are far too many unanswered questions about this thing." "Oh God," I gasped, dropping my face into my hands and then crying. This whole situation was terrifying. "I can' turn into Aunt Dora... This kind of thing is impossible..." "I know," Mom quietly said as she gave me a hug. "I wish it was. I wish you weren't stuck with this. And I wish your father and Dora were still with us..." She was crying too at this point. "But wishing for something doesn't make it true. Things are how they are, and we just have to learn how to deal with them." Cliff stood back, grimly nodding agreement. "We need to get going," he finally said. "I've got a place we can go, a cabin I had built some time back. It'll be the perfect place to lay low and figure things out." He gave me a worried look, then glanced to the box and scowled. Without saying a word, I wiped the tears from my eyes, then gathered the rest of my luggage. After only a moment of hesitation, I picked up the box, which was much lighter than I would have expected. It felt hard and solid, but didn't weigh much more than a styrofoam cooler. A couple minutes later, we were all loaded up in the car, and then we were on the road again. -------------------- I was sitting in the back seat of the car, with my butt feeling almost numb from being planted there for so long. Between all the time we'd spent driving yesterday afternoon and evening, plus the additional hours today, I was really getting tired of this back seat. Yesterday, I'd spent most of the drive in shock over what I'd seen, but now, the shock had faded and I mostly felt grief and fear. I had no idea of what was going to happen to me... Well, I did have an idea, and that was what was terrifying me the most. I just couldn't imagine what kind of life I might be able to have after I finished changing. My body was changing, and I could feel it. It was like a faint but constant tickle which ran through every inch of my body. It was like a humming, through every fiber of my being. The changes were happening fast enough, that when I stared at myself, I could almost see them occurring. For what had to be the hundredth time, I reached up and ran my fingers through my hair. It had darkened to the point where it was almost black, where it was nearly the same shade as Aunt Dora's, and it had grown longer, so that it now hung down past my shoulders. In addition, my hair now felt soft and silky, almost like it had come from some woman in a shampoo commercial. And then there was my skin, which had changed a little more from when I'd first woken up. Every scar that I'd once had, along with most of my body hair, was now gone without a trace. I now had smooth pale skin, which looked like it probably hadn't seen the sun in years. There were other changes throughout my body as well, though I wasn't in a position where I could really take inventory. What I did notice was that my chest had begun to swell and get puffy. I'd poked at my chest a couple times, but wasn't willing to do anything more than that while in the car, not with Mom and Cliff sitting in front of me. I was also fighting off the growing temptation to reach down the front of my pants. I kept trying to distract myself by playing on my DS, but it was hard to get into any of my games, even the ones I normally loved. My grief weighed heavy in my heart, and I kept remembering Dad's death. That wasn't even taking into account my own changes, and how I couldn't think of anything else for long, no matter how hard I tried. At the moment, I had my DS clutched firmly in my left hand, but the game which was still turned on, was all but forgotten. Instead, my attention was focused on my right hand, which was resting on my knee. I'd lost track of just how long I'd been staring at my hand, watching for the changes. My hand already looked different, being pale and having lost the hairs on the back of it. But more than that my hand looked a little more delicate and feminine. And as I watched, I swore I could see my nails actually growing longer. "Magic is real," I said with a sigh. Magic swords, magic spells, and apparently even gods and monsters. It seemed that