Tempest Angel
-Prologue-
-Prologue-
“Hey, Kari, what’s up?” a voice asked. This was Matt Lantor. Such a short sentence was rare for him - he hardly ever shut up.
“I was just thinking,” a girl's voice replied. Now, this voice belonged to Kari Lantor, Matt’s sister and closest friend. She was sitting on the grass in front of a gravestone, slowly rocking back and forth.
“Really? Wow! But I think one of those words is in the wrong sentence. Kari;
thinking…nope. Doesn’t fit!” Matt said, and then laughed; he was always giving her a hard time.
Kari snorted derisivley. "Like you're one to talk!" she exclaimed snidely.
“Hey – that’s not right! Gosh, big sis, insulting your little brother! What am I going to do with you?” he asked playfully as he shook his head.
“How about go away? For once, I really was thinking, and you screwed it up!" Kari hissed, angry at her brother, angry at the day, "You don’t even know what I’m thinking about!”
“Oh? Let’s see, you’re sitting at mom’s grave. What’s today? The 16th of May? Ah…mom. Fine, fine, I’ll leave,” he said, still only slightly serious. He then walked away from the grave, grinning a bit, so she couldn't see it. Kari and Matt had been orphans since Kari was nine and Matt was six. Their father had been more like an off and on boyfriend than a husband. Just before Matt was born, he left for good. Kari had very intense feelings against their father - she thought he was a good-for-nothing creep. Their mother had died of cancer. And yet, after all this, they were still happy, still joyful. Of course, it’s not like they didn’t miss her, but they didn’t wallow. No - they wouldn't let themselves wallow. Now it was the 6 year anniversary of their mom’s death.
There was a long pause. “No, it’s okay Matt. You can stay,” she said. Matt looked over his shoulder at her.
“I’ve already paid my respects, sis. I’ll let you be. See ya.” he said softly, and then he walked away. Kari, lost in thought, semiconciously got up and walked over to the edge of the cliff that the grave was on. The cliff wasn't too high - ten feet, tops, with a rather steep slope - and was supposed to overlook a large expanse of forest, with a small steam flowing at the edge. When she looked down this time, she didn’t see the usual stream. Instead, there was a silvery streak on the ground. She thought for a minute, then carefully lowered herself down to the bottom and examined the streak. To her, it looked more like a cut in the ground, a jagged wound. She stuck a hand in to the cut and, to her surpise, it disappeared. Vanished. Her hand had vanished into the ground. Now, what's wrong with that picture?
“What the…?” she gasped. She hurriedly dug a pen and a piece of a paper out of her pocket - she kept some with her at all times - and scribbled down a note to Matt:
Dear Matt,
I found this silver...cut...streak...thing in the ground. I don’t know what it is or what'll it'll do, but I think I'll be OK. Try not to worry about me, okay? I'll be back as soon as possible.
Love,
Kari
Kari hurriedly folded the note, climbed back up, and placed it on her mother’s grave. “Here goes nothing,” she muttered as she climbed down again and entered the cut. As she was going through, the note was blown off into the wind. All chances (weren't many in the first place) of Matt not worrying were lost with the wind.
