# a could end up really long story



## Firawyn (Feb 12, 2005)

Okay I'm writing a story called Ifland. It started as a "short story" and as usual, I got carried away and now I think it's going to turn into somthing between a novel and a trilogy.  

I just kinda write as I go, making it up as I go along, so I'll add it as I write more.  I've gotten alot of positve feedback from my kid sister and a few of my friends, and one my english teacher is looking at it now, and I'm hoping for some feedback from her. I, however, would still love some feedback from you guys, too. Every bit helps. Maybe someday you'll have the compleated vertion of this in your bookstore.  Thanks people!


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## Firawyn (Feb 12, 2005)

*Ifland: JMWallas* 

Prologue:

I have begun to wonder when and where life begins. Some say it starts on the day of your birth, some say it is the day you commit your life to Christ, and some say it is when you reach the age of 21, and no one can really tell you what to do. 
Of course, if you break the law, the cops will be after you, but you can drink, you can smoke, you can have sex, and no one can do a thing about it. You’re an adult, finally free of your old man who was never home enough to even act like he cared, and of your mother who never stopped trying to teach you “right from wrong”. 
All of your life you obeyed your parents, went to church, and altogether kept your nose clean. But when you reach that time in your life when the world is at your fingertips and you are free of all responsibility, you begin to act careless. You do stupid things, and suffer the consequences. After the fun is over your life begins to genuinely suck.
And that is sort of what happened to me. My name is Amelia Lancaster. I was born on a farm in the middle of a tight knit Mennonite community. I was the only child of Lea and Ken Lancaster and both of my parents were also only children. My mother was a seventh generation native of the community but my father wasn’t even a Mennonite. He was born in New York City, and lived there all his life. He grew up to be a journalist, and gained a certain interest in the different Christian religions. On one of his trips to research the Mennonites, he met my mother and fell in love with her. Unfortunately for him, my mother wouldn’t leave her home, not ever for the love that she too felt. My father left New York and never went back. He married my mother, assumed her name as his own so to keep her family name alive and to hide his own past, and then I was born. I didn’t even know any of this until I was ten years old and went through my “I hate this place, why don’t I fit in?” phase: a phase in my life that never really ended. 
After I was given this knowledge I hid my feeling quite well until the fire, four years later. My parents had gone outside for a walk late one evening after I was in bed, but had gotten back up for a drink of water. I watched from the window as they walked into the large hay barn. It had begun to rain so they had been going in for shelter. Why they didn’t come back to the house I didn’t find out until later but the rain quickened and I lost sight of then as the barn door closed behind them. I was about to turn around when I heard a loud crack and the old oak fell right in front of the barn door. It had been hit by lightning and as if that wasn’t enough the lighting struck again, this time on the barn. I saw sparks and then flames upon the side of the barn. The fire began to spread, and soon consumed the entire barn. It was only then did I think of my parents. I had been so fascinated by the sight that I had forgotten about them, and worst, of the old oak that I now realized bared the only way out of the barn they were in. I have no memory of the rest of that night.
The barn was in a valley, one that could not be seen by from any other homes close by. The barn, with my parents inside, had burned to the ground in the night with not one soul knowing, save myself. The next afternoon, Mamaw, my mother’s mother, came to visit, only to find me crying on the steps, and a pile of coals. We cried together for a while and then she took me home with her. Paw, my mother’s father, had died of a heart attack a year before. I was Mamaw’s only living relative left and she wanted to hold on to me forever. 
But I had other I ideas. And to my advantage, so did the social workers. They said Mamaw was too old to care for a teenager and since my parents never made a will, I was placed in the foster care system. Well, maybe that wasn’t totally what I had in mind. I wanted to leave the Mennonite community, but not get tossed from home to home. My goal was to find my dad’s parents, but since no one knew my dad’s last name, and his body was cooked down to ashes in the fire, there was no way to find out who he was or where he came from. I guess this is where the story really begins. The moment I first put on my new face and became that new girl. According to the first woman I lived with, my name, Amelia, was not ‘in’ these days. I took this information to an extreme. I went from Amelia Lancaster, the little Mennonite girl, to Mia Land, Troublemaker.


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## e.Blackstar (Feb 12, 2005)

Well, go ahead! Post away!


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## Firawyn (Feb 12, 2005)

~
One year after the fire: second foster home.
~

“Mia! Get your rear end over here – now!” Jill called harshly. 
Jill is my second foster mom. She lives alone with one child of her own and three foster kids, not including myself. I have been here about three months, since I wore out by welcome at the first home with the hippy, Clair, by running away for the sixth time in the time span of seven months. I had run away because there were eleven other kids in her house, all under the age of eight. That was enough to drive me crazy beyond reckoning. I was so out of there. Jill’s wasn’t as bad. I was still the oldest foster child, but Jill’s daughter Maggie was my age so we could stick together. The other three were not that bad either. Matt, who was twelve, was extremely cute and nice to top it off. He made me wish I was a bit younger for about five minutes, until I remembered Kevin, the majorly flirtatious thirteen year old. The third kid, Elli, was an adorable three-month-old little girl who was one of those babies that hardly ever cried, and when she did, it consisted of a mild whimper.
“Mia!” Jill called again.
“Coming!” I replied. I turned the corner and walked toward the front door where Amy was waiting. When I got the point where I could see who was waiting, my knees began to buckle. There were two cops, dressed in blue, and waiting for yours truly. I had an idea of why, but I kept my mouth shut. If they weren’t here about the thing I was thinking about, there was no reason to get myself in any more trouble. “Yeah?” I asked as I approached in a calm in innocent manner.
“Amelia Land, you are under arrest for shoplifting, the possession of illegal drugs, the possession of an unauthorized weapon, and as an accessory to a murder. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford one the state will appoint one for you. Do you understand your rights?” the taller cop said.
“Would you like to explain yourself Mia?” Jill asked with a glare.
“Yeah I would.” I replied angrily, as the short cop cuffed me. “These ass-holes are making a big deal out of nothing. I went into the market to bum some cigarettes off of Larry, the clerk who got shot. Some idiot came running in with a twenty-two in his hand and started yelling at Larry to give him all the money. Larry gave it to him and as the dude was leaving, he shot Larry and then dropped his gun when he heard sirens getting closer and took off. I knew Larry was dead so I grabbed a couple cartons to tide me over until I could find a new contact. I grabbed the gun on my way out the door because I knew I could sell it in a couple of weeks and get some good money. I didn’t kill nobody and Larry was going to give me the cigarettes anyway. That leaves you with possession and that aint that bad. A couple of weeks parole at worst. I done that before tons of times.”
The tall cop, Keller according to his nametag, raised his eyebrows and the short one, Collins, laughed.
Holy ****!” Collins laughed. “A regular juvenile delinquent! She doesn’t even need a lawyer!” 
“She does so.” Keller said calmly. Then he turned to me. “Do your parents have a lawyer for you or shall we appoint one for you?”
My eyes darkened. “My parents are dead. Amy does foster care and I’m just one more for her collection.”
“I’m sorry.” He said to me. Then he turned to Jill. “When did her parents die, and what were the circumstances?”
“I’ll get her file,” Jill replied. I was glad she didn’t explain it. I didn’t want to be reminded about how I did nothing to help them. How my parents died was sick and no one needed to talk about it. Collins was speaking to me now.
“What was that?” I asked.
“Take me to the gun, Mia.” He replied. “If you have it here like your story says then you may end up getting off on parole like you said.” 
“Great,” I replied. “Let’s go up to my room.” We walked up toward my room, more like the closet I sleep in, and went in. I went over to my dresser and opened the drawer. I picked up the small bundle that held the twenty-two. For a moment, I thought about using the gun on the cop, and then climbing out the window and running away again but then I realized that they would find me and before I did anything rash, I should try and work it out with the judge. I picked up the bundle and handed it over. While I was there I grabbed a pack of cigarettes and shoved them in my pocked before Collins could see. He was too busy looking at the twenty-two. If we were going to the station I would need them.

~
Court: six weeks later.
~
“Amelia Land, in direct consequence of your actions you will serve two weeks parole and following that term you will be moved to a group home in response to the severe degrading of your behavior. There you will stay for sixty to one-hundred-twenty days.”
So that was the judge’s verdict. I expected the parole, and even relocation, but a group home?? ****. ****. ****. ****. ****. Man this really sucks.
“After that time,” the judge continued. “You will be assessed and according to your currant behavior, a new foster home, or a continuing residence at the home will be decided.”

~
Ninety days later: judge’s office.
~
“Mia, you have done well.” Said the judge. “Much better that I had expected.”
“Yes, sir.” I said. Although I had behaved the last ninety days I had great plans for the future. I wanted to go back to foster care, get a job and my license, and then go find Mamaw. I missed her not to mention that she would be one person who would have any knowledge on my father that I didn’t have. She may even have a picture of him. “So can I go back to foster care?”
“Yes, Miss Land. I was thinking about placing you in - ” 
“Your Honor! I was wondering if I could be placed in Maryland or New Jersey or somewhere like that?”
“Alright, how about Pennsylvania?”
“Perfect.” I said, meaning it.
“Harrisburg?”
“Cool.” I said, smiling. Harrisburg was less then twenty minutes drive to the place I grew up. In six moths I’d have my drivers license and then I’d go and see her. After that I’d begin my search for my dad’s parents.

~
New foster home: 4 months later
~

“What do you mean I can’t get my license?” I whined.
“You have a record of bad behavior in areas that driving privileges would just encourage. So, once again, no you can not get you driver’s license.” My new foster mom, Amy, was beginning to drive me crazy. She had no children of her own and for years she had been taking in foster kids one at a time.
“It just isn’t fair!” I continued to beg. “You are such a jerk!”
One glare from Amy and a point at my bedroom door was the end of that conversation. At least, for the time being.


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## Firawyn (Feb 12, 2005)

~
St. John’s Catholic School: three months later
~
“My mom isn’t that mean.” My friend Cara said as we talked about my dilemma with driving. “I got my permit the day I turned sixteen.”
“Lucky you.” I grumbled. “I got to find Mam somehow.”
“Who’s Mam?” Cara whispered. 
Cara and I had become friends after I made up my mind that was staying at Jill’s for the long run. After we had worked out our differences we hit it off great. It was only then that I opened up to other people. Cara had been the first friend I had made in Harrisburg. Though Jill and I got along for the most part, we still argued some, especially about me driving.
“She’s my grandmother.” I said quietly. My last memory of Mam was of her watching the social workers take me away. The sadness in her eyes was well…sad. 
“I thought you didn’t know your parents or anything.” Cara said. “You said you’d been in foster care forever.”
“It seems that long.” I said, as a tear rolling down my cheek. “It’s been two years today since…since they died.” I sat down on the chapel steps and began to really cry. 
“Oh my gosh, Mia.” Cara said softly, sitting down next to me. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“After school, yeah.” I replied after a pause. I was about time Cara got to know the real me. “Can you meet me in the old ally, over by Second Street?”
“Sure, I’ll be there.” Cara said willingly. 
~
Second Street: a few hours later.
~

“Mia?” Cara peered around the corner into the ally.
“Over here.” I said. 
Cara’s eyebrows rose. Instead of the good Catholic girl she knew me as she saw a tough looking woman wearing all black and smoking a cigarette.
“Mia Land?” 
Apparently, she thought that some other Mia was meeting her in a dark ally in the rough end of town.
“Yes Cara, it’s me.” I said confidently. “The real me.”
“Oh my gosh.” She said. “Why do I get the feeling that Catholic school was Amy’s idea?”
“You got that one right!” I laughed. “Join me.”
Cara shook her head. “Now I really want to know what happened.”
“You want the short story or the long one?”
Cara sighed. “As much as I’d love the long version, I’ll take the short one for now. My mom is expecting me home in half an hour, and I’ll take me ten minutes to travel. If we want to talk about it at all after the story, we’d better go with the shorter one.”
“Okay.” I said. “You asked for it.”
Cara settled herself on the ground across from me and propped her chin in her hands. 
“I was born in a very conservative Mennonite community where my mother had grown up. Her family had been living in that area for seven generations and up to her generation there had been a man to carry on the family name. Oh, by the way, my name isn’t really Mia Land. That’s Clair’s doing…I’ll tell you about her another time. Umm...oh yeah! My real name is Amelia Lancaster. Anyway…my dad was born in New York City but I don’t know anything else about his because after he married my mum he left his past behind him and took my mother’s last name as his own. When I was fourteen by parents burned to death in our barn in the middle of the night. I was placed in foster care because no one knew who my father really was and my only living relative on my mother’s side, Mamaw, was to old to take care of me. I went from a really good kid to a really bad kid. I picked up smoking and stealing and ended up on big trouble with the law. All of my trouble making tales I’ll tell you another time, but on my last stunt I ended up being taken from my foster family and moved in with Jill, where I am now. On the out side, I’m clean, but as you can see, some things are still the same. My mission is to go back to find Mam and get whatever info she has out of her concerning my father’s past. Then I aim to find my father’s family and get the hell out of foster care…you see?”
Cara breathed. “Wow, Mia. That sucks.”
“Tell me about it.” I took a long drag. “So now what?”
“Mia...” Cara paused, as if still thinking about what she was going to say. “Where does your grandmother live?”
“Harrisburg.” I said. “So close yet out of my reach.”
“Harrisburg!” Cara exclaimed. “Mia you and I could go there after school one day. I get my license tomorrow!”
“Really?” I asked excitedly. “That would be great! I could tell Amy that I was spending the night at your place and you could tell your parents that your were staying at mine! It would work!”

~
Two days later: Cara’s car on route to Harrisburg.
~

“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God.”
“It’s okay Mia.” Cara soothed my excitement. “You’ll be fine.
“These people have no postal system.” I said. “I haven’t seen or heard from Mam since they took me six years ago. I mean…. Oh my God.”
Cara laughed. “I’ll drop you off and leave you alone for a few hours. Then I’ll join you.”
“Okay.” I gulped. “I’m okay.”
“I bet.” Cara said.
It took us less time to get there that I had expected; only fifteen minutes. Cara dropped me off in a small grove trees that bordered my grandmother’s farm. Then she drove into town as I walked to the old farmhouse. 
In the back of my mind, I feared that maybe Mam had moved or even died, but in my heart I knew that she was right where I left her. 
I walked up to the wide-open front door. It was canning season and Mam was probably making applesauce. 
“Hello?” I said cautiously. I didn’t want to scare her into a heart attack after all this. Mam?” Mam’s given name was Miriam, and many people called her Mam, so this way of addressing would not surprise her.
Mam walked into the kitchen and looked hard at me. “Who are you young lady? What do you want?”
For a moment I just looked at her. She was exactly as I remembered her but to her eyes, I had changed beyond recognition. Though I disparately wanted to tell her who I was and go hold her forever, I decided there might be things she would tell someone not involved about Ken Lancaster that she would not tell his own daughter.
“I am Amy Conagin.” I said. “I am here on behalf of the NYPD Investigative unit. I’m looking in to the disappearance of a man you may know as Ken Lancaster.”
Mam dropped the canning lid she was holding when I spoke my father’s name. “I’m sorry.” She said in a shaken voice. “That was the name of my son in law. Let’s go sit down in the living room.” She washed her hands in the sink and we made for the sofa. I sat down next to her and began.
“Do you know what Ken’s real last name was? Sources tell me that he took your daughter’s name to preserve the family tradition.” 
“Yes, I told him that I didn’t want to know, that I didn’t need to, but he told me anyway. It was Cavanaugh. Ken Cavanaugh.”
Cavanaugh, I murmured in my head. Mia Cavanaugh. I wrote this down in the notebook that I had brought, and then snapped back into my Amy Conagin act. 
“Good. Now do you know where to find this Mr. Cavanaugh?” I asked stupidly. 
“I’m sorry investigator,” Mam said with tears in her eyes, “but Ken and my daughter died in a barn fire two years ago.”
“Oh,” I said quietly. “I guess that’s all then.” It was rude, I suppose, but I got up and walked out the door. I kept walking and didn’t look back until I had reached the place where Cara had dropped me off. Then I looked. I could still see the front porch and I could still see Mam, standing there. I turned around and sat in the grass and began to cry. I cried for several minutes until I heard a small, trembling voice behind me.
“Amelia?” Mam asked in a non-believing tone. “Amelia?”
I got up and ran to her. We embraced for a long time. Then we sat down and cried together some and then we hugged again. When we had finished, we sat together quietly for a while, much like we had the day after the fire.
She was the first to speak. “Amelia. I’m so glad to see you. So glad.”
“Me too, Mam.” I said barley able to hold back another sob, though my eyes had dried out from the amount of crying I had already done.
We walked back to the house together and went inside. As we sat down on the couch I immediately went to the questions. I didn’t have time to waste.
“Mam,” I said, “I need you to tell me all you know about my father.”
“But Amelia…
“Mam, please.” I begged. “You owe it to my mother.”
“Okay.” She said after a pause. “All I know it that you have an aunt named Amy, but I don’t know what her last name is. Your father said she did foster care. And that’s all I know.”
My heart pounded. Could it be? I was sure of it at that moment, though this realization didn’t really come home for a few more days. 
We walked back to the house together and when we got there, Cara was already waiting. She came up to us and smiled. 
“You must me Mia’s grandma.” She said as she extended her hand. 
Mam took it and returned the smile. Then Cara turned my way. “Mia we have to get going unless you want Amy to give you heat.”
“Yeah,” I sighed. “We should go.”
Mam nodded understandingly and then we hugged again. Before I knew it Cara and I were pulling into Amy’s driveway and I was walking up the front steps. Amy was there, as I predicted, waiting for me. 
“Did you girls have a good time?” she asked.


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## Firawyn (Feb 12, 2005)

“Yep.” We said unanimously. 
“Good.” Amy said as I walked past her and went in the front door. 
The next morning was Saturday but I woke early because I had a bad dream, one that I never wanted to have again. I saw my parents in the burning barn. I could hear my mother’s scream and my father banging on the barn door as his leg caught a spark. Mother rushed to his side; only do have her dress turn into a living torch. I saw their flesh redden and their eyes begin to water. I saw my mother’s fingers turn black and my father’s leg bleeding on the dirt. At last they both fell onto the piles of hay and choked to death. Such pain and suffering should never have happened. Why? I shuddered at the memory of what I never saw but knew happened on that night. When Amy came downstairs I was eating my second bowl of cereal. As she sat down across from me I asked.
“Where’s your family, Amy?” I said all to casually. 
Amy was startled by this sudden interest but showed no sign of distress. “Well kiddo, my brother and I were adopted my two very rich people. They live in California, right outside of Hollywood.”
“So what about your brother?” I pushed, still in a casual tone.
“My brother, Kenny, disappeared about eighteen years ago. I have no idea if he is even alive or dead.”
“Does he have a family?” I pressed.	
“Well,” Amy said. “When he disappeared I asked al his friends about it and one of his rather odd friends said that he had run off to marry some Amish girl. I didn’t believe him at first, but when I found no other leads I went backed and tried to follow that tip. Still nothing.”
I lowered my eyes and stirred my cheerios. “I know what happened to him.” I said quietly.
Amy, who at this point had been slumping in her chair, sat straight up and looked directly into my eyes. She said nothing.
“He’s dead.” I continued, knowing now that there was no going back. “He died two years ago in a barn fire.”
“How do you know this?” Amy asked in disbelief.
“He was my father.” I said shortly. “My mother and my father died in a bard fire two years ago. That is why I’m here.”
Amy was, no doubt, thoroughly shocked and in her own little world. But still, she did something I would never have expected her to do.
“When blood is spilled and blood is saved, 
When the child comes forth and is reclaimed
When back to your time the child will save 
The falling kingdom and will forever reign.”
Amy spoke a verse that I had never heard but I felt a great desire to hear it again and again and again.
“What was that?” I asked. “Why do I love it so much?” I had never bonded with any of my foster families but right then; in that room, I bonded with Amy with a closeness I had never felt, save with my father. “Tell me.”
“You are my brother’s daughter, Mia. You will fulfill the prophecy.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked. “Shouldn’t I have read about this in history class?”
“Had you grown up in your own world, yes. But not here.” 
“Where exactly is my world?” I asked.
“Through the Magic Doors.” She said, eyes sparkling. “Let me tell you a story. Someone who never existed built the magic doors. Orphaned at birth, Fredrick Kelley grew up as nobody, and as he came to be an adult, he reviled his gift. Fredrick was and inventor and a genius. Before very long he had faked his own death and erased all record of him ever being born. Then he spent many years building his secret doors and other things he would use on his later ventures. Fredrick Kelley’s story begins here. It begins before he ever knew what he would create and how it would affect the world.”
“So what happened?” I asked, now very curious. 
Amy paused. “I think you will better understand if you see it yourself. You are one on the Clemenya, a group of people who can see through space and time, if they wish to. Have you ever had dreams so real you wished you’d never had them?”
“Yes,” I said. “Last night, in fact.” I recalled my dream again with a shudder. 
“Wish to see the second meeting of Fredrick Kelley and Rupert Doily.” She instructed. “You will appear to me as if you were just sitting there but to you it will seem as if you were dreaming.”
“Okay,” I said, as I closed my eyes and wished to see the meeting.
“Mr. Kelley”, a man called Rupert Doily said as he walked into his large home library. “My men have done a background check on you and found nothing. What have you to say of this?”
“My dear Mr. Doily”, the twenty-eight year old adventurer, “I am nobody. My name is Fredrick Kelley but I do not exist. You may, however, find some information in a grave marked Fredrick Frances Kiley. It will say that he was born in 1870 and died in 1886, at the age of sixteen. I was born and died on those same dates.”
Mr. Doily nodded his head as he realized what sort of man this Mr. Kelley was. 
“It is now the year 1898 and the dawn of new world is upon us.” Fredrick continued. “I ask your aid. The records of England say I do not exist there fore I cannot buy or sell anything. I cannot hire workers and I cannot gain a passport. But in all of this you will aid me.”
“Now sir,” Rupert said softly, “You really are in a dilemma. If I do not help you then what will you do? Who will you turn to? And most importantly, why did you come to me?”
“If you do not help me, I will kill you, for I have more than one reason to do so. If I must turn elsewhere then you will surly regret it.”
“But why did you come to me?” insisted Rupert. “Why now?”
“I came to you for reasons you do not need to know!” Fredrick said, raising his voice. “I came now because until now my heart was filled with to much fear!”
Rupert sat down. At this point he knew that there was much more to this young man then met the eye.
“What is your choice, sir?” Fredrick asked, his voice now calmed. 
“I will help you”, Rupert said, and I ask no reimbursement nor any reward save one.”
“What do you ask of me?” Fredrick asked.
“I ask you only to allow me to join your expedition.” He replied solemnly.
I came out of the dream and shook my head. “Wow.” I said. After I was over the odd sensation I asked. “So why did Rupert come to Fredrick?” 
“Because Fredrick was the baby boy that Rupert left in front of the shelter because he couldn’t afford to feed him. They eventually made peace and then made the Magic Doors.”
“But I still don’t get what the Doors do.” I said impatiently. 
“Fredrick discovered that every time a decision is made that changes the course of history, an Ifland is created. An Ifland is a place where what would have been if something else happened can be lived. Ifland is the world we live in and we are immortal. You Mia, will never die of old age. Every day there are Iflands born and every day, Iflands die. It’s a fact of out lives.”
“How does and Ifland die?” I asked. 
“This occurs when the world ends up in the same place it would have been right after the decision was made. Do you understand?” Amy’s voice had a new sound to it now. I was far more brave and noble sounding than I had ever heard. She sounded like she ruled the world. I told her this.
“Ha!” she said. “You are a good judge. For I tell you now, of all Ifland there is one capital city that does not die. It was created, not born, so it cannot die. Your father was in line for command there until he and I were transferred into this world.”
“Are you really his sister?” I asked, just to make sure of some lingering questions I had. 
“Yes, Mia, I am.” She said with more power than ever before. “We were transferred to this place when we were sixteen, the age you are now. I have always hated this place so I secluded myself to my home and worked in a way that people would pay me to take care of homeless kids, like I was once. Your father was more of an optimist, and he explored it with all his ability. We are like typical brother and sisters from Ifland. Polar opposites.”


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## e.Blackstar (Feb 12, 2005)

Wow...that scared me. You and I posted at the same time and my computer went weird. Heh heh...lessee. *reads the story* Oh, is good!


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## Firawyn (Feb 12, 2005)

“Who was older?” I wanted to know.
“He was, by about ten minutes.” She said coolly. He had no ability to lead yet Deus chose him to be born first.”
“Deus?” I asked.	
“It is our word for God.” She answered. “Our language is very similar to this world’s Latin.”
“Oh.” I said. “That explains a lot.” 
“What explains what?” Amy asked.
“Why I wanted to take three years of Latin in school.”
Amy laughed. “You are your father’s daughter. Now we must talk of the future.”
“Wachyou mean?” I asked
“First we need to get your grammar fixed.” She said with a shudder. “Where on earth did you learn that ****?”
I smiled weakly. “Larry said it a lot.”
“Who’s Larry?” Amy asked. 
“He’s an old friend who got shot and killed.” I said. “He was my provider.”
“Your what?” she asked. “What kind of provider?” Her tone was now much less gentle but I knew I’d be better off just coming clean now. She was family, after all. “He sold me smokes.” I said casually. 
Amy’s brow narrowed. “And how long has it been since your last smoke?” she asked coldly. 
“Um…..” I started calculating the hours on my fingers. “I’d say….about one and a half.”
“Years?” Amy said. “Okay I feel much better.”
“Um…Amy…” I paused. “I meant hours.”
Amy got up from the table and walked over to the couch and fell onto it. “What am I going to do with you, Mia? You are a disgrace to the Royal line.”
“Royal?” I asked “What do you mean, Royal?”
“I mean that you are of the Royal Family of Ifland’s capital. You are one of the Clemenya.”
I sighed. This wasn’t what I had expected to learn when I found my father’s family. All I ever wanted was something normal. I’d give anything for Cara’s boring life with a mom and a dad. 
“I know how you feel, Mia. Just remember that when we get back to Ifland you will be normal. You will fit in.” Amy smiled warmly. 
“You read my mind!” I exclaimed. “How?”
“It is just one more art the Clemenya are able to do.” She replied. “You will learn in time.”
The next few weeks were full of change. Amy adopted me and took in another kid to cover the bills, and I learned much more about my newfound heritage. The new kid, Ryan, was a little older than me and we became fast friends. He was tall and good looking and had the dark hair and eyes I had. We looked oddly alike. 
Ryan stated going to school with me and after the first week, he begged me to pretend we were dating so the girls would stop drooling on him. I teased him about this but in the end, agreed. School was much better for him after that.
With me and Ryan occupying each other, Amy was free to stay for hours and hours downstairs in her lab. She said that time was running short and we had to get back to Ifland as soon as possible. 
Ryan’s parents had been smugglers, and they had both been sent to prison when he was fourteen. He had been in the system just a little longer than I had. Since they were bother serving twenty to twenty-five years, Ryan would be long out of the system and on his own before they were in his life again. He often talked about when they were out of prison, they were always dragging him along on their trips in and out of Africa and Mexico, and that he knew more about how to get away from the cops and how to sneak into secure buildings than he really wanted to know. 
When January rolled around, Amy told me that the Magic Doors only opened once every five years, and that the next opening was this June. She asked me if I wanted to ask Ryan to come with us, for she knew how much I cared about him. Her comment to me was, “If that boy doesn’t have Clemanyan blood in him, I’m a flying chicken.” I hoped she was right. 
“Ryan?” I said, peering through the crack in his bedroom door. “Are you in here?”
“Yeah Mia, I’m here.” He said calmly. 
I walked in and saw that he was sitting on his bead reading a letter he had gotten from his mom today. “What’s up?” I asked.
He sighed. “My mother has gone mental in the joint.”
“What makes you say that?” I asked. 
“Here.” He said. “Read this.”
I took it out of his hands and read the letter.
“Dear Son, 
I have some good news for you and some bad news. The bad news is that your father and a few of his inmates tried to escape last night, and were killed. I’m sorry Ryan. The good news is that you need to come get me out of here. Now I suppose you wouldn’t find this good, I know how angry you were with us, but it’s time. I have some things to tell you that you will find hard to believe. I couldn’t go home while your father lived but my heart longs to return to Clemenya. I must go home and you, my son, must help me. Please come and see me, and we’ll discuss our plans. 
With all my love, 
Mother”
I handed the letter back to Ryan and stood frozen. He may think that him mom was nuts but it was just as Amy had said. 
“She’s not nuts, Ryan.
“What?” he asked, not believing what I was telling his either. “Are you nuts too?”
I smirked. “No. I’m Clemenyan, and so are you.”
Amy popped her head in the door and asked. “Is everything alright kids?” she asked.
“I’ll ask her”, he said. “If she thinks it’s real I’ll believe you.”
“What’s real?” Amy asked in a chipper tone. I knew that she already knew what he was asking.
“Does the word ‘Clemenya’ mean anything to you?” he asked in a know-it-all tone.
“Sure,” Amy said softly. “I was born there. I’m going home soon, too. Mia and I want you to come along, if you want.”
Ryan was dumbfounded. “What?” he said. “You aren’t joking?”
“Duh!” I said. “I would joke about something like that, Ry.”
“Okay,” he said finally. “I’ll go. But we have to get my mom first.” He handed Amy the letter and she read over it quickly. “Okay”, she said. “I’ll arrange everything.”
Ryan raised his eyebrows. “You will?” 
“I’m not the only Iflander to ever come into this world.” She said as she walked away and headed to her lab. 
“What’s an Iflander?” he asked slowly.
I laughed, then sat down on his bed and began to tell him about Ifland and the history of the Clemenyans. 

~
Amy’s Lab, six weeks later
~
For the first time in our lives, Ryan and I were allowed into Amy’s lab. I was not like I has envisioned, it was just a couch in the middle of the room with a table set up in the corner. I had imagined chemicals and exploding mixtures out of odd shaped jars. But it wasn’t so.
Amy motioned for us to sit on the couch. She then opened a sliding door to her right and out stepped a woman, around forty with the same dark hair and eyes Amy, Ryan, and I all shared. She was dressed in a cop’s uniform and Ryan stared at her blankly. 
“Mom?” he asked.
The woman smiled. “No Ryan, I’m not your mom. Your mother is my twin sister. I am your aunt Lorrie.”
“I don’t understand!” Ryan said. “Mom told me that her parents had died in a car accident when she was fifteen and that she had no brothers or sisters.”
“All Iflanders pretend to be orphans if we are transferred into this world.” She explained. “I’ve not seen your mother since the day we came here, with two others. We were all together. It was me, your mother, Amy, and Kenny.”
“My dad was with you!” I exclaimed. 
“Yes, he was.” She said. “When Kenny disappeared, I took the case and found him. I was able to locate him, soon after you were born, Mia.”
“Wow”. I breathed.
“No here’s another twister for you. Kenny and Amy are brother and sister and were born on the same day, hours apart, but they were not twins. They shared a father, but had different mothers. Kenny’s mother was also my and Ryan’s mother, Carrie’s mother. You, Mia, are my and Carrie’s niece. Ryan is your cousin.”
Ryan and I looked at each other and grinned. This was probably the best news we had gotten all day. 
“So that’s why you were all together when you got transferred into this world.”
“Yes, it is.” She paused, thinking. “Now we need to talk about getting Carrie out of that government hotel.”
Ryan smirked. He knew about government hotels. I nodded to indicate I knew the same. 
Lorrie continued. “Here’s how it’s going to work. I can get the keys to unlock the cell, and the uniform to disguise Amy in. She will get Carrie out. I will distract the guards by running away from them in a prisoner’s outfit, since I look just like her. Ryan will be dressed up like another cop and he will lead the cops chasing me in another direction so that they loose me, and then act stupid when you loose my trail. Then he’ll meet us back at the meeting place. Mia, you’re the get away driver. You must know where and when you met us, be ready to drive, and you must memorize all the roads from the prison to our destination.”
“Where is our destination?” I asked.
“The door to Clemenya!” she said, eyes sparkling. “We are going home.” 
The next two weeks I spent studying my drivers’ manual. Then, after a long wait, I went and took my drivers test. I passed with 17 of 18 questions right! The one I didn’t get right was ‘How many feet ahead of the vehicle do the low beams shine?’ I sat back in my chair and rolled my eyes. Who really cares? I asked myself. Anyway, I passed and that was all that mattered. In the weeks following I spent most of my time with Aunt Lorrie. She taught me to drive, and in a manner that most driving instructors would be appalled at. After the basics, she taught me how to speed and live through it, how to turn the car around in 6.2 seconds, how to nudge a car just right to cause it to loose control, and many other illegal maneuvers. 
As the days crept on, we were getting closer and closer to our deadline. I knew there was something I had to do before we left, and I decided to talk to Amy about it. 
“Amy?” I inquired as I walked slowly down the stairs to the lab. Now that we all knew what was there, Amy said it was fine to come down. 
“Over here kiddo!” she called from the work bench.
“Amy I have to ask you something.” I said.
“Yeah?” she prompted, not looking away from her work.
“I need to go see my Mam before we go, and I want to take her with us if she’ll go.”


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## Firawyn (Feb 12, 2005)

This time Amy looked up. “You can go see your grandmother, Mia, but she can’t come with us.” She continued to study my face. “Do you think I don’t know about the last trip you made to the farm?”
My jaw fell open. As she said it, I realized that I should have expected this, after learning she could read my mind. I wondered if she knew about the smoking all along too.
“I didn’t know about the smoking until you told me. Smoking was something you just did, out of habit, not something you thought about.” She smiled.
I rolled my eyes, then turned back to the conversation at hand. “Why can’t Mam come?” I asked. “You’re letting Ryan.”
“Ryan’s Clemenyan.” She reminded me. “You grandmother could die if she came with us. It’s a rough trip. Are you willing to risk her life?”
“I understand.” I did understand, but it hurt. 
Just then there was a knock at the front door. Ryan answered it and Amy and I sat quietly waiting to see who it was. 
Ryan yelled down the stars. “There’s a girl from school here to see you Mia!”
I flinched. Cara. I had not seen her since Ryan and I dropped out of school two months ago. I hoped she wasn’t mad at me. I didn’t know how I was going to explain to my best friend that I was leaving and soon, going to a place she could visit me at. I would miss her as much as Mam. 
“Hey, Cara.” I said with a smile. “What’s up?”
Cara looked me up and down and then asked. “Can we go talk somewhere?”
“Sure.” I replied. “Let’s go to me and Ryan’s room. His is stuffed with boxed right now, so we’ve been sharing for awhile.”
Cara raised here eyebrows when I said this. “Really?”
I looked at her and understood what she was thinking, though I didn’t know if I was reading her mind, or if I just knew her that well. I didn’t know which I wanted to believe more. “No!” I said “Gross! Yuck! Get out of here!” I grinned at her. “Ryan is not my type.”
“You know what’s been going around school?” she asked with a half grin.
“What?” I asked.
“People are saying that with you and Ryan living together, you got pregnant and that’s why you both dropped. I came to see you instead of calling because I wanted to see for myself.” She sighed. “Apparently not, though.”
“Not a chance.” I said. “Ryan is my cousin.” 
Cara’s jaw dropped. “Oh my gosh.” She was speechless.
I laughed at her. “That’s not the reason we dropped though.” My eyes darkened.
“Then why?” Cara asked solemnly, noticing my new tone. 
“I am Amelia Nicole Cavanaugh Clemenya. That is why.” I said in an entirely different tone than I had ever heard from my mouth. I sounded Royal. I had found the strength in my blood.
“Mia?” Cara asked. “What the heck is going on?”
I sighed and sat down to explain my background and heritage to Cara. She took it well, then did something I did not expect.
“Mia?” she asked. “Can I come with you to Clemenya?” 
I was shocked. She had a perfect life with a mom and a dad and a good school and she was well…normal. “Why?” I asked. “You have everything here. Your life is perfect! Why would you want to start over in a new place that you’ve never been?”
“My parents are getting a divorce.” She said with tears in her eyes. “My grandparents, who used to be friends, are now enemies. It’s terrible!”
I sighed. “I’m so sorry Cara. I didn’t know.”
We hugged and cried together. She was right. Her life wasn’t perfect and if I was her, and my only friend was going to place that no one could find her, I’d want to go to.
“I’ll talk to my aunt.” I said. “It’ll be okay.”
She smiled and we just sat there quietly for awhile. After a few minutes I told her to go home and start thinking about what she would take with her to Clemenya if I got Amy to say okay. She left and I headed back to the lab. 
“Amy?” I asked. 
“Yes Cara can go.” She replied, reading my mind yet again.
“Thank you!” I exclaimed, thinking about how this was better for both Cara and me. She would get away from her bad home environment and I would have a piece of this world to hold onto.
The next morning I left early. I was going to spend all day with Mam and I promised myself it would be spent well. I arrived by nine, and I parked my car at the same place Cara dropped me off the last time. Then I waked up to the house.
“Mam?” I called, with a bit more confidence this time. “Are you here?”
“Amelia?” she replied in surprise. “How good to see you!”
She walked up to me and we embraced. I had gone over what I would say to her a hundred times, but it still seemed to be caught in my throat. I didn’t want to leave her. Not again.
“Mam.” I said slowly. “If you had one day that you could spend with me and then it would be over forever, what would you do?”
Mam sighed. 
“When blood is spilled and blood is saved, 
When the child comes forth and is reclaimed
When back to your time the child will save 
The falling kingdom and will forever reign.”
She turned away from me. “It is time then?” she asked quietly.
Surprised as I was about her knowing the prophesy, I simply replied to her question. “Yes.” I said.
She sat down at the kitchen table. “Your father told me many things, and made me promise not to tell a living soul until it was time. He told me about the Clemenya, and about Amy.”
“You knew about my aunt the whole time yet you did not tell me?” I was angry. “I spent two years in foster care when I could have been happy with my own flesh and blood! The only reason I wanted to leave here in the first place was to find my father’s family! I’ve only ever wanted to belong!” I sat down again, fuming. How could she? 
“Listen to me Amelia!” it was her turn to blow up, a side of her that I had never seen before. “Your father told me many things. He told me that he came here with his three sisters; Amy, Carrie, and Lorrie. Amy was next in line for the throne, but now you have been born. You both have rights to the throne. Your father told me that Amy was always angry that she was not the crowned one, she it is quite possible that she will want it now, even though you are here. Now if it had been a man and a woman fighting for the throne, the older would win. But two men or in this case, two women, have to fight for it. Your aunt will fight you, Amelia. You father predicted it.”
“No!” I said in a desperate tone. “Not Amy.” My voice had now reduced to a pitiful whine.
“Amelia,” Mam said softly. “When you go home tonight, act as if I never said anything about this. Just be on your guard when you reach Clemenya.” She paused, and then continued with more news I could hardly believe. “Amelia, I’m leaving this place.”
“What!” I exclaimed. “You’re leaving ‘this place’?” I said waving my arms all around indicating the farm.
She laughed. “Your mother is dead, my parents are dead, my husband is dead, and you are obviously not coming back. What is there for me? This place is full of memories.”
“But Mam,” I said. “Where will you go, and why would you leave? What’s the point of going away?”
“I want you to ask your aunt if I can move into her place.” Mam said. “It is paid for and your father told me something that will make the move worth while.”
Her pause continued. Finally, I pressed her. “Yeah?” I asked. 
“Your father told me that Iflander that move to this world often get married and have to leave loved ones behind when they go home. He told me this the day before he died. There is a kind of postal system that goes between both worlds. We can keep in touch that way.”
“Why did he tell you then?” I asked, wondering about my father and who I never knew he was.
“Because he was going to go back, Amelia.” A tear rolled down her cheek. “He was leaving you and your mother. He had duty to tend to, he told me. I was so angry at him, and so was your mother. They often fought about it, and it got to frequent that they started going into the hay barn so your wouldn’t overhear anything.” She sighed, remembering the past. “I think the reason your mother was so angry about it was that he didn’t tell her he was Clemenyan until after they were married and didn’t tell her about the prophecy until a few years after you were born. It hurt her that he lied to her.”


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## Firawyn (Feb 12, 2005)

e.Blackstar said:


> Well, go ahead! Post away!


lol Fine I will!


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## e.Blackstar (Feb 12, 2005)

heh heh.


I like it so far. Is happy!


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## Firawyn (Feb 12, 2005)

You like the story so far, good. Now did you mean to say you were happy casue you liked the story, or were you saying that it was a happy story?? It makes a big difference!!


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## e.Blackstar (Feb 12, 2005)

I just mean...is happy. Happy is my general adjective for anything cool.


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