Chronicles of the

Children of Destiny

“Crazy little thing called love”

by

Daniel Thomas Andrew Daly

Chapter One

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‘Alexander. You know I love you. Why do you ask me such questions?’

‘Oh, I must be crazy, Rose. I don’t know why I would ask you that. Perhaps I just wanted to hear you say you loved me once more. Perhaps that is all it was. Just needing to hear those words. But of course I know you love me. I have always known. And I love you, Rose. I really do.’

Rose Rothchild caressed her husband’s face, and nodded. She knew, in truth, he loved her. She knew her beloved Alexander loved her, in the purest of loves such as her son Daniel and Alexander had spoken of that night at dinner, with Rachel and Jessica.

That night, Rose, at 45 years of age, with the very last egg within her ovaries, conceived her last child, young David Rothchild. It was, in truth, a night of passionate love. Crazy, passionate love.

* * * * *

Across town, on the other side of Canberra, a Mr and Mrs Atkinson, only wed for about 3 weeks, also conceived a child, just 7 minutes after the conception of David Rothchild. Justine Atkinson came to life in the womb of her mother, then. And a new blessed miracle of life was brought into the world, alongside another miracle just days later, 9 months following those nights of passion.

* * * * *

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‘Gemma. Don’t be stupid. Of course I don’t like Freddie.’

‘It’s those teeth, isn’t it?’

‘No. His teeth are ok. Anyway, Francine fancies him a lot. You should know that.’

‘Yes, I guess you are right. I think she might actually lose the big V to him, you know.’

‘I wish you wouldn’t talk like that. I am a Christian, you know.’

‘Yes. I think I may be a Christian as well. I am not really sure though. I don’t think I have ever been baptized – but I did go to church once and prayed with people. And I guess I sort of believe in God.’

Justine looked at Gemma, her Christian fundamentalism and beliefs silently judging her friend, albeit as kindly as possible.

‘So you think that makes you a Christian, do you Gemma?’

‘I don’t know. Doesn’t it?’

Justine looked at her friend, took another bite on her apple, and decided it may be the wiser thing to remain silent on that issue.

‘Francine is with Lucy, isn’t she?’ Gemma asked Justine.

Justine nodded. The four of them, Gemma Watkins, Francine Jones, Justine Atkinson and Lucy Smith, had been inseparable all throughout high school. Lucy had joined the school in year 7, having moved up to Canberra from Chakola were she lived with her mother Caroline. Justine’s mother had very strongly advised her daughter to steer clear of Lucy, as it was not really hidden that she was a practicing white witch. But Justine had befriended Lucy when nobody else seemed interested in doing so, having had pity on the new kid. And now the four of them, in year 12, were inseparable best friends. Lucy was planning on leaving Canberra to go stay in New York after year 12 had finished. Apparently she had been accepted into a quasi-magic school, the details of which were not common knowledge to the general public. Justine had met Lucy’s teacher and mentor from Bunyan, a Shelandragh May, recently, having come to visit Lucy at school, and found the middle aged figure very welcoming and friendly. It had subtley changed the way Justine, normally quite a biblically fundamentalist type of person, viewed white witchcraft. Lucy had many times stressed the difference between white and black magic, almost relating it at times in a religious sense which surprised Justine.

‘So tell me, Justine. If you are such a strong Christian and all, why did you end up coming to Melrose instead of one of the Christian Schools?’

‘Mainly because mum went to Melrose and thought it the best place to send me. It is a long trip from Belconnen here, but she says tradition is often important.’

‘Oh right. I had wondered why you didn’t go to a northside school.’

‘Well now you know.’

The two of them sat in the school canteen chatting for a number of minutes as lunch time slowly passed by, soon interrupted by Lucy and Francine, who had just left Freddie Bulsara, the guy Francine had a crush on.

‘Go on Francine. Tell them,’ said Lucy.

Francine began a little nervously. ‘Freddie has invited me to dinner and a movie on Friday night. The dork has finally gotten around to it.’

‘Dork?’ questioned Justine. ‘I thought you liked him?’

‘Oh, all guys are dorks. They gradually improve with age, sometimes, but they start off as dorks. Mum says so all the time.’

‘That is your feminist mother, isn’t it?’ asked Gemma.

‘I prefer to think of her as socially enlightened,’ responded Francine, still actively pursuing the feminist agenda she had begun around year 9.

‘A lovely way of putting it,’ responded Gemma Watkins, who was herself as equally socially enlightened as Francine Jones, but largely from a diametrically opposing perspective.

Perhaps Gemma Watkins could be described as the classic ‘Bimbo’, as she was stunning to look at, with beautiful blonde hair, gorgeous face and long legs. And, as befitted a bimbo, her mannerisms and attitudes certainly accompanied such a reality. Yet, while this was the impression Gemma gave to the world, Justine and the other girls knew quite well it was perhaps planned and deliberate to a large degree, as Gemma was an excellent student, usually amongst the top in the class. She hid her results often from many, especially boys, but Justine knew the intelligent mind which lurked behind the façade Gemma Watkins carefully maintained.

‘Anyway,’ continued Francine or usually Frances Jones, ‘Freddie says we are all invited to a party after the movie on Friday night. It starts around 9.30, so you all have to come, ok. I don’t think I really want to be alone with him. I mean, I do trust him and everything, but he is a guy after all. And we all know what they are like.’

Justine objected to that statement, stating, ’Some guys are like, don’t you mean Francine? There are many real gentlemen in my church at Hughes.’

Gemma interrupted her. ‘And why do you go to Hughes for church? Let me guess, tradition again right?’

‘Well, yes actually,’ responded Justine. ‘But it has been the family church ever since we lived in Hughes. We go to Belconnen Baptist too, often for Bible study, but Hughes is our main church.’

‘Oh right,’ responded Gemma.

‘Enough with the religion. Are you girls coming?’

Gemma nodded while Justine thought about it.

‘I’m not really sure, Frances. I guess I know how the type of guys who Freddie hangs around with might behave.’

‘A bit inconsistent in what you just said, doncha think?’ asked Gemma.

‘Not really. Some guys are real gentlemen. Some are from the pit.’

‘Well Freddie is not from the pit,’ responded Frances. ‘So can you come?’

Justine thought it over and finally nodded. She knew the night would be important to her friend, so didn’t want to let her down.

They chatted on until lunchtime, after which the girls headed for their classes, as another Wednesday school-day passed at Melrose High School in the Pearce Suburb of Canberra.

* * * * *

Alexander Rothchild had loved Rose Dawson from the very first time he saw her, at 12 years of age. So enamoured had he been with her, that he had taken her virginity at her tender age of 13, still not legal, and had gotten her pregnant. They had legally married due to exceptional circumstances before the birth, and Alexander was older than Rose, and was deemed fit by his father to marry – and was likewise deemed obligated to do so.

Their first child was Daniel Rothchild. They had 4 more, all girls, before leaving off with children. Yet 32 years after Daniel had been born, young David Rothchild had also come to be, right at the end of the spectrum of women being able to give birth.

Daniel loved David instantly. He, finally, had a brother. He’d had to wait practically half his life, but he finally got the brother he had always longed for.

Daniel Rothchild was, for those who are curious to know, the incarnation of the Seraphim Daniel from the Realm of Eternity. And his young brother, David, was the incarnation of the Seraphim Ambriel from the realm of Eternity.

Two brothers – both angels – both from the same pre-existing realm. Destiny herself had her hand on these two men, and their fate was to prove most interesting, if all things worked out according to Destiny’s and the eternal father’s plans.

* * * * *

David sat in the library at Lake Tuggeranong College, were he was currently enrolled in Year 12. He had grown up in Macarthur, but the family had just moved to Forrest. However, as he was half way through year 12 at Lake Tuggeranong College, it had been felt best not to move him but let him finish his year. The buses weren’t that bad anyway, as the College was just down from the interchange a little.

His brother Daniel and Daniel’s best friend, Daniel Daly, had also gone to Lake Tuggeranong to study, were they had first met. But those study days were now years ago, back when the college first opened.

David had not really built up too many friends at the College, apart from Charlie Braddick, who intended to study Law at ANU with David if his results were good enough. For a long time David had been devoted to getting into the Law degree at ANU, but would have settled for the University of Canberra if his results were not good enough. Fortunately, though, everything was progressing smoothly in his last year of school, and he sensed he would be at ANU next year, alongside Charlie.

Today he was studying English, getting ready for the mid year exams. The exam would feature an essay on Austen’s Pride and Prejudice, and David was already formulating a possible essay on the character of Mr Darcy. He had watched the movie just the night before, enthralled once more by Keira Knightley’s excellent performance, one of his most favourite actresses.

There were, of course, a number of versions of the movie, but that one he particularly admired.

Charlie was sitting opposite him, not actually studying, but engaged in a battle with a monster. The monster in question was challenging Mario, on his handheld computer game of Ultra Mario Adventure 7, continuing the successful series.

David used to play such computer games when he was younger, but had lost interest when he reached year 11, turning most of his attention to his studies. But he did still collect the older cartridges from the 20^th century, mainly for his long-term ambition of starting that collectables store that he and his brother Daniel had long talked about.

He looked at the notes on chapter 3 of ‘Pride and Prejudice’ which his class had received, but turned to look out the window for a moment. It was a sunny day, and he could spy someone feeding the ducks on the lake, as he was seated next to the window. He wondered how many ducks had been fed on that lake since it first came to be, knowing it was an artificial lake created in the early days of Tuggeranong being settled.

Charlie spoke up. ‘Anyway, Dave. My friend Freddie from Melrose has invited us to a party at his place on Friday night. Do you wanna come?’

David looked at him. He had planned studying for that night, but perhaps felt a break might be ok.

‘Maybe. I don’t know. Maybe. Give me time to think about it, but possibly yeah.’

‘You know there will be some girls at the event. I am sure you would like to go along. But of course, I was forgetting, you don’t like girls do you? You’re probably gay.’

‘Thanks Charlie,’ said David sarcastically. ‘You’ve really made my day.’

‘Just kidding,’ responded Mr Braddick. ‘Anyway, it should be great. Freddie’s parent’s are away, and he his older brother has promised to get us some booze. It should be an awesome night.’

David nodded. In truth, such events were not exactly Mr Rothchild’s cup of tea. Not really at all. He had been raised in a traditional Anglican home, which had become Messianic in recent years as Daniel was interested in that movement and the family was Jewish in origin. But David had, through his own studies, come to accept mainly the written Torah, which Christians called the Pentateuch, or first five books of the Bible, as the main religious text of his faith. And because of that, he felt obligated to follow the faith of holiness and decency which God had taught through the lawgiver Moses. As such, parties like those Charlie was talking about he’d avoided since coming to Lake Tuggeranong, despite Charlies many attempts to get him involved.

As for girls, once he was settled in a career and making a decent living, he was sure they would eventuate when necessary. In that he had a little bit of faith.

He returned his attention to his notes, and Charlie resumed on the next level of Ultra Mario World 7, having defeated the end of level monster.

Chapter Two

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Lucy Smith sat in Shelandragh May’s living room, in the hutlet of Bunyan, around 100 kms south of Canberra. Shelandragh’s cat was sitting near the fireplace, dozing happily in the common manner cats exude. Lucy was contemplating life, and her big move next year to Redaxxiel, the New York School of wizardry and witchcraft, in upper Manhattan. Her cousin, Jonathon, was planning on meeting her at the school in a teaching capacity, having completed his own training at Mynaxxion, the major school for Wizards and Witches in England. Jonathon had gained a reputation at Mynaxxion as a passionate wizard to be, full of the flame and fire of white magic. In his final year at Mynaxxion, he had encountered Zoldarius, the dark lord, for the first time – the dark wizard who had killed his parents. Zoldarius, who Lucy had encountered just last year, after Mr Grimlock had betrayed her revealing his association with the dark powers, was a spiteful and viscious wizard, having been ostracized from the wizard community at a young age, and having turned to dark magic.

Grimlock, who she had trusted since the age of 10, had finally shown his allegiance to the dark side of magic, something which her other main mentor, Darren Merryweather had warned her about on many occasions. He had always been suspicious of Grimlock, who had finally betrayed himself and shown his true colours.

Grimlock, then, unleashed Lucifer upon her, who, although she had told nobody else since, had raped her, completing his vengeance, before calling on another of the dark lord’s servants to finish her off.

And then Zoldarius had appeared, challenging her with his own magical powers, and in a dazzling display of magic war, she had used the Zaxxon ruby she had found in Zeraxxus, the old school of magic in Sydney, to freeze Zoldarius, and then had cast a ‘Relocate’ spell on him, after which he had not been heard of again. And then Grimlock had slithered away, now leaving Cooma and Australia to return to America were his master lived, the dreaded Saruviel she had dreamt of many times.

Ultimately, it was Saruviel – the true power to fear – that Lucy felt, one day, she may have to encounter and deal with. And of that encounter she did not look forward too.

But for now, having come down after school with her mother Caroline on Thursday, her mother travelling on a few kilometres to Cooma, leaving Lucy at Bunyan with Shelandragh, Lucy was happy simply enjoying her time at regular school, and her friendships with Justine Atkinson, Francine Jones and Gemma Watkins. Of course, Madelene Bridges remained her best friend of all, who had now left school, and was finishing up at university. Madalene had known Lucy ever since Lucy arrived in Chakola, which was a few kilometres away from Bunyan, up the highway and off it, towards Canberra going north. She saw Madalene most weekends, as well as Madalene’s brother and sister, Jayden and Georgia, who lived in Calwell in Tuggeranong, the southern district of Canberra.

Lucy now lived in Pearce, which was the suburb in which her high school, Melrose high, was located, in the more central Canberra district of Woden. They had moved to Canberra when her mother Caroline had been successful with a job interview in the Public Service, but every summer she stayed down at Chakola, as Madalene’s dad, who owned the farm were Caroline and Lucy had lived, loved having them around and he and his wife, Brigid, had said that Madalene was welcome to stay there, with the kids, on summer holidays. Of course she went down many times anyway to continue her witchcraft lessons with her teacher Shelandragh May, now also having private lessons with the head of the Guild of Wizardry in Canberra, Alfric. And of course, Darren Merryweather, who now lived in Canberra as well with his wife saw her practically every other day.

She’d had a number of adventures and magical encounters, some quite fearful, especially in the Sydney school of Magic, over the last few years. Perhaps it was a good introduction to the life of being a white witch, but perhaps it was a rocky ride that Lucy could have done without.

In many ways, her time in regular school was a comfort and a solace, and her best friends Justine, Frances and Gemma were that light in her life of normality which she found she really did need.

But soon – very soon – New York, and the life of the Big Apple. It would be an exciting time, and one really to look forward to, no matter what came of it.

* * * * *

Francine Jones was nervous. Tonight was the night. Perhaps the BIG night in which what she still had would be gone forever. She didn’t really think Freddie was a dork – that was simply the public front she maintained. He did have bucked teeth, but they weren’t too bad, and suited his personality to a degree. A minor concern, really. But he was reasonably cute, and with her own average looks she didn’t feel she could really expect too much more. Perhaps they were suited to each other. Perhaps they would really hit it off. Only time would tell.

* * * * *

Alexander Rothchild sat with his wife Rose in their new home in Forrest. They were in the front living room, which had large panes of glass overlooking the street. Forrest was quite an affluent suburb in Canberra, right next to Deakin were the Prime Minister’s ‘Lodge’ was situated, the official residence for Australia’s Prime Minister, although not all of them had lived there.

Alexander had retired recently, and with his payout they had afforded their new home. It was, really, a lovely established home in the suburb, and they knew they were leaving their offspring one of the better homes in Canberra, situated just down from Parliament house and near the Synagogue. St Andrews, the Presbyterian Church, was also nearby, and they visited often.

Alexander, still in love with his wife, was sitting next to her, playing with her hair. It was not something they usually did in company, being generally quite conservative in outward appearance. Rose also felt, to a degree, that such affections were more suited to the passions of youth, but Alexander, perhaps in the foolishness of his heart he often felt, still flirted with his wife to show his love. And silently she liked the attention.

They listened to the song, Barbara Streisand singing, ‘Memories, from the corner of my mind…..’ It was, in a way, their song. They had known it from youth, both of them, and it had meant so much to each of them, in many ways.

He kissed her head, and said to her. ‘You are as beautiful as the day we met,’ to which she replied.

‘Flattery will get you nowhere. Besides I am getting to old for those sorts of shenanigans.’

‘Nonsense, you are never too old.’

‘You won’t be saying that when you are buying Viagra.’

‘Ooh, ahh, well actually. Perhaps I might.’

‘Pardon?’

‘Well you don’t expect my recent performances to have been all my effort, do you? With the full mast I bring to our bed these days, you must have suspected something.’

‘Oh, Alexander. You devil.’

‘Oh Rose.’

* * * * *

‘Come on girl. Hurry up. I would of though that tonight of all nights you wouldn’t want to be late.’ Gemma persisted nagging Frances, who gave herself a final look over in the mirror, as women are wont to do, and finally, finding herself adequate, if not acceptable, she followed Gemma outside to were Justine and Lucy were sitting in Lucy’s car, a small hatchback.

‘You look pretty,’ Lucy said to Frances.

‘Thanks Luce. You look good yourself.’

‘I hope the boys think so,’ responded Lucy.

‘Yes, the boys,’ said Justine, mildly disapprovingly.

The four of them drove on from Rivett, a suburb in Weston Creek the district of Canberra Frances lived in, headed for Freddie’s place in Chifley, on Eggleston Crescent. Freddie had called off the dinner and movie with Frances at the last moment, having asked the girls to come to the party sooner instead. It was to be a big night, and he preferred to start early. He had let the girls know this just at the end of the school day that afternoon, and Frances had agreed and urged the others to likewise do so. Justine had finally assented and they were now nearing Freddie’s house. Pulling up into the driveway the music was blaring from the house, and they sensed the party was out back. The four of them headed around, and soon found about a dozen teenagers, many from their school and some from elsewhere. There was about an even mix of boys and girls, the four girls tipping the balance. Freddie spied Frances and came over to say hello.

‘Frances,’ began Freddie. ‘You look…..Fantastic.’

Frances blushed a little and said, ‘Thanks.’

Gemma spoke up. ‘I see that you have invited other kids from school. Who are the others, though?’

‘Oh, you know. Guys I know. Charlie is from down in Lake Tuggeranong College, and he brought a friend of his – what was his name, David I think.’

‘Is he cute?’ asked Gemma.

‘Let me introduce you,’ replied Freddie.

He took the girls and came over to were Charlie and David were standing, near the blaring speakers, Charlie drinking a beer and David sipping on orange juice with ice.

‘Charlie, David,’ began Freddie. ‘This is Frances – she is with me tonight. And her best friends Lucy Smith, Gemma Watkins and Justine Atkinson.’

Charlie gave a little wave at them and said hi, but David said nothing, just taking a sip on his orange juice.

Later on, around 9.30, the party was going strong, with about 25 kids there, and the music blaring loudly, but not too loud. Freddie had spoken to the neighbours about the planned party, and promised to have the music off by midnight, so they had said to go for it.

Justine found herself all alone, Frances and Gemma having disappeared inside with some guys, and Lucy talking with a cute guy a distance away. She looked at the David fellow, who had barely moved all night, sitting reading a book and drinking orange juice. She decided to go and speak with him, as she had nothing really better to do.

‘Uh, hi. I’m Justine.’

David nodded, and gave a little smile.

‘I’m David.’

‘What are you reading David?’

‘Pride and prejudice. We have an exam on it soon, and I really need good grades. Hopefully I will get the choice at university I want.’

‘And what is that?’

‘Law at ANU, if I am lucky.’

‘Really? Wow. That is amazing. Both I and Gemma sort of plan on studying that as well. Coincidence, huh?’

‘So you like law, do you?’ David asked sincerely.

‘Oh, you know. I am a strong believer in God and think the law is very important for society. Helps protect us all, so I am motivated to be part of the system, if you know what I mean.’

‘That is very honourable of you. I hope you get in.’

‘Thanks,’ responded Justine.

The conversation went silent for a few moments, a common enough reality amongst people who have just met, but Justine found something to say.

‘Have you seen the movie? Pride and prejudice I mean.’

‘Oh yes. A number of them. But I like the one with Keira Knightley the most. She is wonderful in it.’

‘I like that one too. It’s one of her best roles. And Mr Darcy, when he says ‘I love you’ it was oh so dramatic, know what I mean?’

David looked at her thoughtfully, perhaps thinking on that very subject, but responded, ‘I guess.’

The conversation again ran dry, and Frances and Gemma suddenly appeared with Freddie and another guy. Frances waved Justine over to them.

‘Well it has been good speaking to you David. Perhaps we will meet again, you know. Maybe even at university. Wouldn’t that be funny?’

David stood, put up his hand and said, ‘Yeh, see you Justine. And I hope you get in. I will definitely catch up with you if you do. I promise you that.’

She waved again at David, looked into his eyes, and momentarily a little spark of electricity shivered down her spine – a little jolt which was oh so pleasant to feel. And then it was over and she was walking over to Frances.

Later on, as the girls were heading back to Frances place, Frances made the confession that Freddie had got quite lucky that night, in a sexual way, but would not give all the gory details. Suffice to say she was not quite a virgin anymore.

Justine thought of, perhaps, rebuking her friend. Virginity, for her, was meant to be taken on the wedding night. To go with a guy without a commitment was totally against her religion. And Frances, who was a Catholic, was supposed to be the same. But Justine felt that, perhaps as Frances was indeed a Catholic, and knowing how her own Baptist church viewed the older churches, essentially as more worldly, she knew she shouldn’t really be that surprised. And Frances, after all, was not exactly a committed churchgoer.

Later on that night Justine thought on her own virginity, silently happy it still belonged to her husband on their wedding night. She was not really tempted to do anything before marriage, so strict had her upbringing been on that issue. She was, in her faith, dedicated to being pure for her husband on the night of nights and, whoever that was, she would be pure, dressed in white, a proper virgin.

She wondered, as she often did, who she would marry. Perhaps she had met him already. Perhaps. But perhaps not. Perhaps he was a knight in shining armour, somewere. Her prince, ready to take her away to his castle. But perhaps not. Perhaps he was just another guy, the kind you might meet at school or a party. Time would only tell.

Chapter Three

Daniel Rothchild, now middle aged, sat with his wife Jessica in their new apartment in Civic, the centre of Canberra, were the action was. It was, for them, an indication that they were now living the ‘high life’. Daniel had just turned 50, but felt 35 and looked it too. Jessica was 45, but looked in her late 30s. And they both really felt how they looked, so fit and healthy was their raising and lifestyle. Neither smoked, and they drank alcohol very rarely, aware of the damage that intoxication could cause. They ate very little meat, mainly white meat when they did, and both kept fit by attending gyms. As a result of this, they felt they would both make 100 without too many difficulties and had decided to make sure they had a good retirement, and a nice place to live in to spend their final years.

They had chosen Civic, the city centre, because of the excellent shopping and wide range of cafes and pubs. Although they didn’t drink much alcohol, they visited the pub often, mainly for the meals and the social contact. In a way, both Daniel and Jessica were still a very cool and trendy young couple, and were quite popular with a lot of people. Jessica had to watch Daniel, though, as a great many females in their 20s and 30s flirted with him constantly when they were on the town, noting his fine dressing and good looks, indicating to them a solid character and a good catch, which indeed he was. But as for Jessica, while she was likewise a stunner, she carried herself with such a demeanour which suggested to all interested males rather quickly that she was both attached and not the slightest bit interested in any extra-marital affairs, which was completely the truth. Yet, she feared, if the right woman came along, and she was out of sight, Daniel might say and do something not normally within his character, which was actually quite true.

Three years previously, something of which Jessica had no knowledge, Daniel had committed adultery for the first time, with an Egyptian lady friend he knew from a church he had once attended. He’d visited her about a dozen times, after which he, feeling a little guilty, had called the matter off. In truth, he had loved the girl quite a lot, but felt that while he might – just might – love the lady more than Jessica, it would only be just a little if that, and not worth leaving his marriage and commitment to Jessica because of it. And in the two and a half years since that fateful night he had kissed his lady-love goodbye, he had made sure to not even look at another lady when she was around.

And now, due to guilt, he felt the necessity of sharing his indiscretion with his wife. He was not sure, really, if in the end he could do so. He loved Jessica, and while he felt their marriage was strong enough to survive this blow, he wasn’t really sure if he wanted to take the risk. What if she left him? What then? Of course, his former ladylove might be interested, but that would be hypocritical wouldn’t it? In the end, he had come to this conclusion. If the love between himself and Jessica was not strong enough to survive this encounter, perhaps it was not meant to be. And as such, sitting there in their apartment that Friday night, after work, ready to go down to Starbucks, Daniel felt he needed to get the thing off his chest. Once and for all.

Jessica, laying against her husband, looking at the large LCD television, was nervous. How could she tell him. How could she tell her beloved husband, one who adored her, that she had recently been with another man. How she could tell her beloved. What words could she say that could possibly speak to him that she had made a mistake, which she regretted bitterly, and still loved him dearly. What could she possibly say. And then, 5 minutes later, after he had made his confession, her position was confusion. All she could think, despite the anger she knew she should show, was how relieved she was. Perhaps, now, she could make her confession as well. And how could he judge her? How on earth could he possibly judge her? And so she told him. And he looked at her. He looked at her, shocked, not knowing what to say, and finally said ‘I’ll be at Starbucks. I don’t know if I’m coming home tonight.’ And then he had left, and she started crying.

* * * * *

David Rothchild sat with Charlie Braddick in the Canteen of Lake Tuggeranong College, Charlie again consumed with his Ultra Mario game, David sitting eating his junk food lunch, chips and a cola.

‘So’d ya have a good time?’ Charlie asked David of their recent party.

‘Not really. The music was too loud, and everyone got quite obnoxious towards midnights. It was no fun at all.’

‘You really are a square, aren’t you Dave. I mean, no one really minded you being their, but you have to lighten up, man. Get with the scene. Not be so out of touch with real people.’

David looked at him, and felt like communicating a little bit of Torah wisdom, something which Charlie occasionally took notice of.

‘As you know, I am quite religious when most people aren’t. The Torah teaches me as an Israelite to be holy. Not given over to decadence, which I sort of view as much of what parties these days are given over to. So do you get were I am coming from?’

Charlie nodded, but was ready with his own answer, one he had been internally formulating for a while now in his friendship with David.

‘Yes, I know Dave. I actually have read a lot of Genesis, ya know. But I guess this is my point. Saints and sinners – they have been around forever. Genesis says so. But the world is not as bad as you think it is, bro. Most of those people at the party have sort of formulated their own moral beliefs, just as you have, and mainstream society sort of has the philosophy of live and let live. Man, you know I am studying Australian law with you when we get into uni, and man, that is enough. We can party, and even get drunk, which may be frowned upon a bit, but is practically custom for teenagers. So you know, life goes on, Dave. Those people at that party will be parents one day, and many of them will be responsible upright citizens of Australia. See, you are out of touch with the majority – the mainstream. We ain’t as bad or decadent as you really think. We just aint. We are just relaxed on those sorts of bible rules. Just don’t take it so seriously. You will see, man, that life goes on.’

David looked at him for a few moments. He looked at him, contemplating what he had said. Finally he responded.

‘Yes, Charlie, I see your point. I guess I could respond in a lot of ways, but I will say this. Some of us have to set standards. Standards of excellence. If we don’t, the team average comes down, doesn’t it?’

Charlie nodded. ‘Well that is just you then, isn’t it?’

‘I guess so.’

‘So we can pretty much still be friends. We know were each other is coming from, don’t we.’

‘Well, yeh. Yeh, I suppose. You know, I am not quite out as touch as you think. It is also because I am not quite into that scene. I guess I am just more conservative by nature. I think that is a big part of it.’

‘But, man, that is what I am saying. You need to come out of your shell a bit. Lighten up. Loosen up. You will be happier with yourself when you do. Trust me on this.’

David looked at him again for a number of moments, as if considering what he had said, finally saying, ‘I suppose. But, hey. Does it matter, really? Life goes on after all.’

‘Touché, Davy boy.’

They chatted until lunchtime had finished, their friend Irene joining them, who was the other student in their year interested in doing law at ANU. Later on, in English, David was not paying much attention on the lesson, thinking carefully on some of the things Charlie had said. Really, he had gotten insight. Quite a bit of insight into people and their beliefs from what Charlie had said. And he reflected, that as sincere as he was as a person, perhaps other people, in their way, were just as sincere. It was something, certainly, to mull over in the next few days.

* * * * *

Lucy sat next to Jimmy Morrison on the bus, headed for Civic. She had met Jimmy at the party, the cute guy she had been talking to, and he had asked her out. And then he had asked her if she would go steady with him, so she now, officially, had her first boyfriend.

‘So, Luce. Do you like metal or love metal.’

Lucy, trying to be cool and fit in, although she practically hated Heavy Metal, said the kind of thing you would say just to get along,

‘Iron Maiden or ok. But I don’t listen to much, really.’

‘Yeh, Maiden rock. Especially Number of the Beast. Fucking awesome album, an absolute metal classic.’

Lucy nodded, pretending she knew what he was talking about. But just then, realizing that she was a big fan of Evanescence, due to the semi-Goth sort of style of the band, which was a subculture – a big sub-culture – in the witch world, she mentioned that to him.

‘Yeh, they’re ok,’ he responded. ‘But a bit soft for me. Classic band, though. They’ve been popular for ages. Me, I like ‘Aggressor’. Now they know how to kick ass. Top shit of a band.’

Lucy nodded, knowing the reputation that Aggressor had as a full on death metal band, practically evil by the general public’s standards. In a little way, it worried her a bit that Jimmy liked Aggressor, but she had known that from the first meeting, as he wore one of their T-shirts. But, like most metal-heads once you got to know them, he was pretty much like most other guys, and Jimmy had a soft side she had noticed from time to time.

And then, he cuddled up next to her on the bus and before she knew it his tongue was down her throat, which she passively accepted and they were being stared at by some of the passengers, even though they were at the back of the bus. It was her first kiss, and it was rough and awkward for a while, but they settled into it and, after about 5 minutes, she was becoming a little bit aroused. After a while he broke away, saying to her, ‘You kiss ace, babe. The best I have been with.’

She did not really know he had kissed other girls, but knew she probably should have expected it with his looks and the scene he was in.

He flirted with her until they reached civic, and then they headed for the arcade were his metal mate ‘Lucas’, was hanging. The rest of the afternoon she sat by, watching Jimmy and Lucas play pool, and drink Cola, as well as the pinball and arcade games from time to time. They were still just under legal age for drinking, otherwise she expected she might be in a pub right now, instead of the teen-filled games arcade.

She realized, in a way, she was Jimmy’s chick, being very used to that sort of thing. It suited her well enough, and she was pleased to have her first real boyfriend, apart from the friendship she’d had with Jayden, which to her had been more of a brother and sister type of friendship. But, knowing that she would be leaving for New York next year, and knowing, perhaps quite quickly, that she could not ultimately marry a guy like Jimmy, that he simply suited a purpose in her life of having a guy for a while, both to hang around and kiss, and she could say that she had some experience because of this. But ultimately, no. Not the kind of guy she would bring home to mother.

They went to see a movie after Lucas had left, one which was supposed to be funny, but which she found stupid and immature, but Jimmy laughed a lot. Sitting there, listening to him laugh at what she perceived of as the stupidest of jokes, she quickly knew that he really was not the one. Life with him, over the long term, could be disastrous. She felt he probably was not violent, but she also felt he would treat her like a ‘babe’ and a hot ‘chick’, but not a woman, and that he would probably even leave her anyway when she got to old for him. No, he was not the one for Miss Lucy Smith. Perhaps, next year, in New York she would meet the love of her life. Perhaps then. And she would see Jonathon again, having had the reunion in Sydney, and likely being taught by him at Redaxxiel in Manhattan. Next year, for young Lucy Smith, could turn out to be the time of her life.

* * * * *

Francine sat on her bed, nervous. What the hell would she do. What the hell would she do. The test was positive. One time – one bloody time – and now she was pregnant. Her mother would have a fit. And then, although hating herself for thinking it, then she came to a quick and easy decision. It was now legal in the ACT – they had clinics everywhere. She could go on a Sunday afternoon. Nobody would have to know. And she could have the problem taken care of. And then life could get back to normal, and she wouldn’t have to worry about any little inconveniences again. She thought, maybe, maybe she could tell Freddie. But, then again, he would probably say she was lying or that the kid was someone else’s. No, the best thing to do was to get rid of it. And the sooner the better.

She picked up her phone, dialled the operator, and asked for the number for the clinic. She rang them, and they said she could come in tomorrow. It would be quick, anonymous, and free. She didn’t even need her Medicare card, as it was all government funded and the clinic felt anonymity suited the general public more on this issue. So she would get it done, get over it, and get back to her life. She would be more cautious next time, if there was a next time.

She felt guilt, of course, but put it out of her mind. She had made a mistake by not practicing safe sex, and she had paid dearly for it. But the clinic would take care of her problem, and she could get back to her life. It was as simple as that.

* * * * *

Justine, on a Sunday afternoon, had a terrible premonition that someone was hurting themselves – someone close to her. But then it had passed, and while she felt damage had been done, the person was now ok.

She thought on ringing her friends, just to make sure, but thought better of it. She was just being paranoid, she told herself. Letting her imagination get the better of her. And so, after Francine’s unborn child tasted a short life and a quick death, Justine Atkinson returned to her Bible study that afternoon, oblivious to the shattered state of heart one of her best friends was now in.

Chapter Four

Alexander looked at the Viagra tablets. Perhaps he should throw them out. Perhaps he should. While he used them to gain his satisfaction with his wife, in their conversation she had been mildly disapproving of them, almost in a way stating to him that they were now getting older and should let the lusts of youth pass on by in natural fashion. Perhaps she was right. Perhaps the wisdom of God was to follow the natural order and not expect something out of your body which it didn’t really want at his age anyway. And so, because of this reasoning, he threw the tablets in the bin, and went back to his bedroom. Rose snuggled up next to him on the bed, and smiled when he told her he’d thrown them out.

‘We may be young again in heaven,’ she had said to him, ‘and perhaps then we can be children of passion again. But we really should act our age, dear. Don’t you think?’

Alexander knew well what was generally expected of people in their latter years. He did not really feel comfortable being expected to fit into a role he was not really wanting anyway, but he was honest enough to know that time was catching up with him. Perhaps this was just the winter season of life. Perhaps the passion of the earlier seasons had run their course, and life was closing down, finishing its run. Perhaps it was just vanity to expect anything more. The foolish cravings of an old man.

Still, sitting on his bed, reflecting over his life, he was ultimately content. It had been, generally, an orthodox type of life. He had not done anything, really, out of the ordinary, mainly working to achieve goals set in his teens – marriage – a lifelong job – home ownership – children – and so on. And he’d achieved all of these. In reflection he could honestly say nothing was really missing. Nothing was out of place. All had been achieved. But, perhaps, in the corner of his mind, perhaps that very truth spoke something to him. It had been a neat, organised and tidy life. One to suit his simple passions. But perhaps, to the silent observer, not wishing to offend – perhaps to such an observer, a boring mundane life. Certainly, the normal things which such a life brought had pleased him well enough, and he could not and did not complain. But perhaps it lacked something – a spirit of excitement – a spirit of wonder – which accompanied the heroes of his youth. He quietly questioned himself on that. If such a thing was really so, what could he do about it? What could he really say, in the end, that he had accomplished?

And so, then, at 66 years of age, Alexander began making plans. Quite audacious plans. He owed his lord and saviour Jesus everything. And because of that, and because of the simple truth that due to many upheavals in faith he had not stabilised on one particular branch of Christendom, he would form his own fellowship. He would, in the tradition of so many great Christian leaders from yesteryear, go out on a branch and begin his own church. Certainly he had the funds for advertising, he had numerous contacts who may express an interest, and he had the reputation as a solid and reliable citizen of Canberra, one which was generally respected. Yes, this was it. Perhaps in a way, his whole life was leading to this. Building up to the stage in which he had the means to accomplish his goal, and the opportunity to do so. Yes, this would satisfy him, and bring the accomplishment his heart had started to desire.

* * * * *

It had been a week and still Daniel had not come home. Jessica was worried. Not too worried about Daniel’s safety, as she presumed that his absence was for one main reason, of which she was correct. What she did not know, though, was that Daniel had withdrawn 20,000 from their substantial savings account, travelled down to Melbourne, and had been visiting the extremely expensive prostitutes of Melbourne – the $1000 an hour sort – for the past 5 nights. He had spent 2 hours with each girl, now having blown over $12,000 in expenses. But now, slowly, he was coming back to himself. It had been lust. Quick, instantaneous and most certain lust. For a while, immediately afterwards, sitting in the Starbucks café, he had justified this to himself. He had justified the notion that he would leave her – that he had really left already – and that desires he had long held back should now be acted upon, and he should taste that expensive luscious flesh he had craved from time to time. And he had not denied himself, but drunken from the cup of decadence to the full.

Initially, that night, he had planned on 2 girls for an hour and a half. He had never been with 2 women at once, and had long fantasized about the possibilities of such an act. But, sitting in a café downstairs from his hotel, looking at the Rabbi who was seated a short distance away, not uncommon for Melbourne, he was entirely convicted. There was a commandment – one of the big 10 – one so fundamental to the Jewish life. ‘Thou shalt not commit adultery.’ And he had not disregarded it just the once, but now multiple times. And now, to his heart, he was a disgrace to his own faith. A hypocrite – a complete and utter hypocrite – who said one thing about sex, but acted another way. He was, in truth, no longer the man he’d thought he was.

But, in the way Daniel Rothchild often thought, in a redeeming kind of way, he felt it was best to make the best of a bad situation. He would go home now. He would not tell Jessica of this – really, there was no need. She might even expect it. But he would go back to her, kiss her, and say, ‘What is done is done and can’t be undone. But we can go forward in love.’

The drive back to Canberra was filled with dozens of rehearsals of what he would say. Yet the simple words he had thought on in Melbourne stayed with him, and coming into their apartment back home, Jessica rushing up to hug him, he just kissed her and held her.

She looked into her eyes and said ‘Forgive me.’ Of course, he could not forgive her. He could not forgive her, because he found no wrong in comparison to his own actions. She was, ultimately, true to him. Her discretion had been minor, almost understandable, human really. She was only what she was. And so, in his way, he forgave her, kissed her, and peace returned and resumed between them.

Daniel never cheated on Jessica again, nor Jessica on Daniel. When they finally both passed, many years later, their marriage had been a joy like few others – one in which they had learned to share their deepest desires and anxieties, and one in which they learned to trust each other, despite their very human flaws and weaknesses. In truth, it was a crazy little thing called love which drew them together in their latter years, both realizing that they still loved each other and – more than that – they liked each other and found general happiness together. It was the secret to their marriage, and one which gave great happiness to their souls, despite their lack of children.

* * * * *

David, sitting in his room, at his PC surfing the net, was thinking of someone. He was thinking of Justine, the girl he had met at the recent party. If she really did get into law David thought that she might be the kind of person to get to know better. Of course, he would probably not really consider her the kind of girl to marry, unless she was Jewish, but that was not likely as he pretty much knew most of the Canberra Jewish community, and had never met her. But she seemed like a friendly girl, the kind that might make a good friend.

He surfed the net, clicking on www.karaite-korner.com, one of his most visited websites. Essentially Karaites and the Samaritans were basically what constituted the religious viewpoint of David’s life, but more the Samaritan viewpoint. While he did view the prophetical writings of the Tenakh as favourable and important in the spiritual ministry they provided, and the historical information contained therein, like the Samaritans he rejected the notion of any divine association with these writings, despite their own internal claims. David only held to the written Torah as divinely given and inspired. The written Torah comprised the first five books of the Bible – Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers and Deuteronomy. These had differing names in Hebrew, David used to both naming conventions, reading the Torah in both English and Hebrew.

The Samaritans, while they had a differing Torah in many textual deviations from the standard Masoretic text, still had essentially the same Torah, and he studied the Samaritan version often. He had one Samaritan contact in Israel, and they chatted via email often. David had been encouraged by his friend to keep the faith, and make it to Israel one day when he could, primarily to celebrate a Passover.

While David did not technically call himself a Samaritan, he had ultimately realized that if he had any true spiritual home, it was only amongst that community that he could find himself. They shared the same beliefs and he had gotten to a stage in his faith in which he did not perceive that really changing very much. And, because of that, he had made plans to, essentially, move to Israel when he had finished his degree, and perhaps worked for a few years, to live near Mt Gerizim, and join the Samaritan community. His faith meant that much to him, and he was sure he would be welcomed into the Samaritan community, which would have been quite true for a committed Jew of Samaritan faith.

He hoped, in his heart, to marry a Samaritan girl one day. To take a wife in Samaria and have many offspring, loving Hashem and gaining his lifes blessing. It would make his life what it should, ultimately, be he felt to himself. And he was quite sure destiny had his hand on his heart in the fulfilment of this dream of his.

After a while he turned off the PC, and got on to his knees beside his bed and prayed for a while. Later, lying on his bed, a peace comforted his heart – a silent peace from God, resting on his beloved child – and David turned to the dream-world. He dreamt, that night, of Dragons. And, right at the end of the dream, just before waking, a huge and extremely powerful black dragon came upon him. David raised his shield and thrust forward his sword, yet the dragon broke his sword, and laughed at him. And then it had spoken to him. ‘Mere mortal. What are you to me? What is your power compared to that which dwells in my heart? What indeed, mere mortal?’ And then David had woken, and could not get the name ‘Saruviel’ out of his mind.

* * * * *

On his 28^th birthday, Alexander Darvanius II thought on young Lucy Smith. He thought on this child, and his heart was concerned. Alexander was aware of prophecy – Catholic Prophecy – which spoke of the end times. And one of the figures in this prophecy he was sure was the white witch Lucy Smith. He had identified himself within this prophecy – the dark one, the man in black, who would unite many, but would be feared by others. He knew himself to be this figure, with his work in Uniting Christendom to follow in his adopted father’s footsteps, and his absolute penchant for dressing in black. He knew well the power and position his father had gained within the church, the enormous influence he wielded, and the young bastard, Alexander Darvanius II was being slowly and steadily groomed to follow in his father’s footsteps. Alexander had servants, Brax who he used to accomplish unpleasant business, and Zoldarius and his brood, currently under the power of the guild of wizardry, locked in one of their prisons. He hated the guild. They were a powerful force which the Illuminati had long tried to rid the world of, especially in the witchcraft burnings of the middle ages. They, the Illuminati, had longed after world power, and the final obstacle in that way was the Catholic papal empire, to which it had become the work of Alexander his father to infiltrate and then overcome. And his son, young Alexander Darvanius II, was to be one day, in the grand scheme the Illuminati sought, to conquer completely the papal system through the charade of the ecumenical movement, playing on the guilt of clerics eager to be one. Alexander Darvanius II, ultimately, had one goal – the main goal of the Illuminati – overlordship over planet earth, ultimate allegiance belonging to the wealthiest families of the world, of which the Illuminati was composed of. Yet one child – one terrible young witch – could potentially bring to an end his dream. The prophecy, though, spoke of a divided fate. One in which either himself or the girl would triumph. It did not say what would lead to either outcome, but Alexander knew that much of it must come to be or he would fail in his goals. And so he had largely left the girl alone, simply using one of his pawns, Grimlock, to influence her in the manner he strongly desired. Yet they had been found out, and now Alexander was worried. And of course, the biggest thorn of all, David Rothchild, was likely to meet Lucy soon, if not already, and then his problems would be multiplied. David, in prophecy, had been spoken of for millennia. He was, so Alexander knew, the Messiah of Israel. The Messiah the Jews fervently desired, and the lamb of God of the book of Revelation. Alexander knew the prophecy of Revelation – he knew it well. At the end the Jewish Messiah would arise, be slain, and taken to heaven, to be at war with Satan to cast the devil out of heaven. Of course, the Messiah would not cast the devil out himself – he was not that one, Alexander now knew. Archangel Michael would cast out Satan under the authority of the Lamb – the Lamb on the throne who the world would seek. And then, at the end of the tribulation, the first of the two lambs of God, the one crucified at Calvary, would send forth the other of the Archangels of God, the Jewish Messiah, David Rothchild, in the ultimate test of his manhood, to defeat the Antichrist and the False Prophet at the day of Armageddon. For Alexander knew who David was, the lad himself not knowing. He knew him to be Archangel Ambriel, the son of God’s love, who loved like no other. As for Jesus himself, Alexander knew he would not arise until the end of the tribulation, until the day of Judgement. Not till then would the redeemer come forth, letting the Jewish Messiah and Archangel Michael and the elect rule during the Millennia.

Of course, the church today had long forgotten the understanding of the 2 Messiah, so caught up with Jesus they had been. But Alexander, and all the Illuminati, knew the teaching well. They were, ultimately, their most bitter opponents – their most bitter rivals in the empire of glory they themselves had conceived of.

Alexander, now, knew who he was. He knew the prophecy spoke of him as the Antichrist – the dark lord to oppose all. Yet Alexander knew his heart as well. He knew his heart, and a truth of God and prophecy which others did not. The prophecies suited God’s purpose and he utilised them to tame the hearts of men and build his Kingdom. Yet, while he would use them as he saw fit, God would not declare them immutable. This the eternal father had spoken to his heart. Alexander knew that life was his for the making. In the vision of Glory he saw for himself he knew that he could defeat any opponent. Any Jewish child which dare rise up against him he could and would vanquish. Would send them away, not forgetting the power and might of the Lord of Darkness, The Archangel Saruviel. Yes, he knew who he was. He had no memories of his past, but an Angel once had spoken to him quietly on a Sunday afternoon in Rome. It had spoken for a few minutes while he was in his room in the Vatican, explaining his name, his identity and his fate. And then Alexander had sought his destiny – yet the destiny of his own making.

And the time of the end – the time of the great final conflict was approaching. Alexander knew he was ready. He knew that those that opposed him in the heavenlies would oppose him till the very end, yet he knew something else also – they were blinded by faith. They were blinded by faith and vanity in their own goodness. Alexander knew power. From a young age he had known power, and its ability to corrupt. And he knew – he knew in the hearts of those who had captured mankind’s attention – that ultimate purity did not lie. That they had given in, ultimately to the lust for power and rulership, rather than the lust for order and civilization. That with all their well wishes, they would not know how to deal with the reality of one important thing – the savagery of human nature. Alexander, though, knew this well. He knew humans, wicked humans, often needed to be crushed away from their evil. And in Torah he could justify this notion so readily and completely. And he knew, then, that the glory could in truth be his own. He knew this because of one absolute truth – God would give authority to the heart which served him completely. That served him with his love, mind and power. And Alexander knew this truth existed between himself and God. He knew that the Torah of Moses was not God’s word – that God was not the source of Jewish corruption which was in the world. It was true – they had received visitation from God and were his chosen people. Yet the word of Torah they idolized – even above God himself – was the corruption eating away at their very soul, leading them to forget their very humanity. Yet Alexander did not forget this. Alexander did not forget the frailties, beauties and yearnings of a pure human nature, one which he felt lived in his heart. Yet Israel opposed mankind in this truth – in this love of children created in God’s image, with all their strengths and weaknesses. Ultimately, for Israel, God was the nameless Hashem – a being of Glory, to be spoken of behind the vanity of lukewarm Torah observance. It was, in truth, a charade. The religions of God were a charade, attempting to portray themselves as the glory of God, yet each failing to understand the true nature of that God. Yet Alexander knew him, somewhat. And God spoke to the heart of Alexander often at nights, reminding him often of human frailty and to not be too judgemental. But speaking to him one pure truth. The glory belonged to him – to Saruviel – for he had once shown himself worthy. And on that truth Alexander placed his hope.

Chapter Five

Justine was alone in her room on a Saturday afternoon. She was reading the Bible, Corinthians chapter 13 – the Love chapter. ‘Love is patient, Love is kind.’

Those words she had read many times, too many to count. In many ways, perhaps moreso than most of scripture, those words were the heart of the church, the highest morality they could ascribe to as Christians.

She wondered, often, why Jesus had not spoken these words himself. She had concluded, once, that he had given this glory to Paul, perhaps even in an example of the chapter itself, letting the apostle in his church have the honour of expressing those words of God.

But she had questioned, occasionally, in reflection on some of the things Frances said about Jesus, if that was really the case. Frances had said, once, Jesus was human – and that the gospels were the fruit of his humanity’s work of faith – not the divine aspect of Christ. That divine aspect guided him and propelled his spirit onwards, but his human perfection brought forth the truth within him in relation to the word of God. Yet she had said one other thing which, to Justine, sounded practically heretical. She had said ‘Jesus is not everything, you know.’ And then Frances had explained, in scientific terminology, that Jesus possessed a genome – a genetic structure – and that his own perceptions of knowledge were due to the actual human person that Jesus was. As such, the gospels were a human work of the man Jesus, rather than a divine encompassing of every aspect of spiritual knowledge. Other ideas came forth in other workers of faith, an example being the apostle Paul, who likewise had his own knowledge of a little bit of something. Initially Justine had rejected this idea – in fact, totally, confidently declaring that Jesus knew everything that could be known. And then Francine had said, ‘what, do you think he is God or something.’ To which Justine had responded, ‘well, yes. Of course. That is what is Christians believe.’

‘No, he is the Son of God. God knows everything. Jesus doesn’t.’

‘But don’t you believe in the Trinity?’ Justine had asked. ‘That is a fundamental Catholic doctrine.’

‘Look. Different Catholics believe different things. I think, personally, you are stupid about Jesus, as evangelicals and those lunatic Pentecostals are as well. He was meant to be the Son of David – a bloke, ok. That is what he was. He was man. A divine man, true. But a man.’ Frances, then, had got sick of discussing religion, saying that it only made arguments, so Justine had went silent, but she had never forgotten Frances’ words, and thought on them often.

After a while, she put her bible away, and began praying on her knees, which was her most common method of prayer. She had no shrine in which she prayed towards, viewed strongly as idolatry by Baptists, but she didn’t need one she felt. Jesus knew her and was always with her – that was her faith. And he would receive her prayers in love and answer them according to his will. This she did not doubt.

That night she dreamed. She dreamed of dragons – golden dragons, silver dragons and red dragons. And then, finally, at the end of the dream, a giant black dragon came upon her, seized her, and looked at her. And then it spoke. ‘Meludiel.’ And nothing more was said.

* * * * *

Frances was in the pit. Freddie was talking to her, mumbling something about the party they were at, but she didn’t hear him. She didn’t, really, even feel like being near him. A blackness had been in her mind, in her heart, for days following the incident at the clinic. The incident in which she had gotten rid of the child in her womb.

She had been pro-choice ever since thinking seriously on the issue of abortion. It was undoubtedly a woman’s right to choose how they handled their own bodies. Nobody else had the right to tell you what to do with your own body. They never had and never really would. She knew the hierarchy in her church taught against abortion, but these were the kind of people who had burned people at stakes. They’re opinion didn’t really matter to Frances.

But now – contrary to what she had hoped – enormous guilt overtook her heart. Enormous guilt at getting rid of the child, not telling Freddie, and hiding it from everyone. And while she’d had very little time to draw any real connection with the child within her, she now felt loss. As if something which had been special had been taken from her.

And, as such, a pit of darkness had surrounded her mind, failing to allow the comfort of peace in which normally surrounded her. Was God himself judging her, she wondered. Did God now hate her? Did he want her dead? And through this trial, knowing she could not confess to a priest, she knew who she could confess too.

And so, leaving the party and catching the next bus, she made her way to the nearest Catholic Church and finding it, fortunately, open, she came down to the altar. There were a few cleaners in the church, but they did not bother her, and left her alone completely. After a few minutes they had left, and she was alone with Christ.

She spoke to him. ‘I’m sorry, Jesus. I’m sorry. You know what I did. You know. I can’t live with myself – the guilt is too much. I don’t really know what to say. I can’t say forgive me, because you know I don’t believe in sin really. Just, please, take away this guilt.’

And a voice spoke to her heart. ‘And if I do? What then?’

And she replied, nervously. ‘I won’t do it again. I won’t. I know now how it feels. I won’t.’

And, sitting there in front of the altar, sobbing a little with her head in her hands, half an hour passed. And then she got up, and looked at the church. She looked at the church, memories coming back of past masses, and she felt different. She felt a little better, as if the black stain had been removed. And something said inside her, ‘You’re on parole. Don’t forget your promise.’

She left the church that day, her faith still intact, perhaps stronger than before. And she was thankful to her God. He had taken it away. In his kindness he had taken it away. And, yes, she was thankful.

* * * * *

Frances, Lucy, Justine and Gemma were sitting in the canteen at school, talking about boys. Frances was quite, not saying much, the other girls recognizing that she seemed to be dealing with a personal issue, so didn’t really bother her.

‘David, huh?’

‘Yeh,’ replied Justine.

‘Was he cute?’ Gemma asked again.

‘You met him, didn’t you?’ responded Justine.

‘Well he never introduced himself properly, and I didn’t take much notice anyway.’

‘Anyway, he will be studying Law next year, probably with us. He might be a good study partner – the kind of guy who will help us also get our degree.’

‘Maybe,’ responded Gemma. Gemma looked at Lucy, and asked her about Jimmy.

‘Well. Have you kissed him yet, Luce.’

Lucy nodded. ‘He shoved his tongue down my throat. He was actually pretty brutal – not really sensitive at all. But it was alright, I suppose.’

Gemma nodded knowingly. ‘You just need to find the guy that is right for you. They are not all like that, you know. Trust me on that. Some are really good at that sort of thing, especially when they are new.’

‘What is that supposed to mean,’ asked Justine, feeling a little guilt over the conversations they often got into on this subject.

‘Oh, they try real hard when they are virginal,’ responded Gemma. ‘Eager to show you just how much they love you, all of them.’

‘Really,’ responded Justine.

‘Oh yeh. They are all like that to start with. But give them a few women, and later they think they are James Bond practically – God’s gift to womankind. They’re egos get huge and they often expect you to follow them around. You know what though, girls. You don’t need a man like that. Tell him to hike it, and wait for a devoted guy. If that is what you are into, I mean.’

Justine nodded, familiar with the type of advice Gemma gave on boys. Lucy, though, was listening carefully, thinking how such news related to her own boyfriend.

‘Really, though,’ said Lucy. ‘I think I am going to break up with him. He’s just too crude for me. Too much of an idiot metalhead.’

‘That’s their scene, Lucy. They don’t really change much either. Mum tells me they were just the same when she was growing up. They talk the same, dress the same, and even still listen to exactly the same bands.’

Lucy laughed at that, relating somewhat to what Gemma was saying.

‘Make sure you practice safe sex, Lucy, ok,’ interjected Francine to the group’s surprise. ‘Believe me, there are some mistakes you just don’t want to make. Especially as a woman.’

‘I’ll remember that,’ said Lucy softly to Francine.

Gemma turned to Justine.

‘So you think David is the one, huh?’

Justine reacted strongly. ‘Hardly, Gemma. He was just a new friend is all. Just a guy. I don’t even know if he is Christian or not.’

‘Yeh, you would care about that, I guess,’ responded Gemma.

‘Still, I guess you know what is right for you. But it wouldn’t be an issue for me.’

Justine nodded. ‘So what do you look for in a guy then?’

‘Oh, you know. What most girls like.’

‘Like what?’ asked Lucy.

‘Well I do confess I like hot guys. Spunks. They usually know what they are doing in the bedroom.’

Those comments didn’t surprise Justine.

‘And if he is clean as a guy, that is pretty important. I hate slobs, you know. Really hate them. They are a big turn off. If a guy can take care of himself, and looks good, then that is a big turn on. But, apart from that, not too much I guess. As long as he has a big bank account. I couldn’t bear being poor.’

‘Really,’ asked Justine. ‘Why is that important? If you love him isn’t that what matters?’

‘I don’t care too much for Looove. Love can’t buy me food, expensive clothes, cars, a civic apartment, jewellery, etc etc etc,’ Gemma responded. ‘Love is for fools girls. If he is cute and has money he is Mr Right. They are the REAL facts of life, ok. Don’t be fooled by those who tell you otherwise. They live in second-rate suburbs, drive second-hand cars, and are in debt up to their necks. Make sure he is rich, girls. Don’t be stupid, ok.’

‘The wisdom of Gemma,’ Justine said, with the slightest hint of sarcasm.

‘Oh, excuse me Miss I am a perfect Christian girl who can judge everyone by my perfect morals.’

Justine blushed a little embarrassed. She knew she deserved that comeback.

Lucy grinned a little, enjoying the conversation.

Gemma turned, quite deliberately, to Lucy. ‘Take it from me Luce. If you follow my advice you will never regret it. But follow Justine’s ideas. Man – you could end up in Queanbeyan. And believe me you don’t want to live in ‘Struggle Town’.

‘Struggle town,’ asked Lucy naively.

Justine smiled to herself despite herself. Whatever else, Gemma’s logic did contain some good examples as justifier’s.

The girls continued their usual lunchtime banter, the spirit of friendliness and care obvious to teachers who quietly observed this group. They were, generally, a little more grown up than others one teacher had concluded. A small group of bright spark’s unsurprisingly destined for the legal profession.

* * * * *

She sat next to him, quietly, listening to him speak. He spoke about the latest work of his father Alexander, and some of his own recent business decisions. And then, quietly, she asked him a question. She asked him a question which for a long time she had been afraid to ask him. But now she had the courage.

‘I know, Alexander, that you want to rule this world. That you want to show others – to show all mankind – the kind of person you really are and how important your beliefs are. But tell me, Alexander. Do you love them? Do you love these mere mortals you want to rule over, or are they simply pawns in the grand empire of your own making?’

Alexander Darvanius II stopped in what he was talking about, and looked at his new bride.

‘Jenny, you know, I thought you would know me by now. I thought you would know me. The ethics of love are strict – quite strict. For me to place my affectations upon people – people who may not even desire such feelings thrust upon them, is simply improper conduct. Most people find love in their own lives in their own way. They don’t need it from their politicians, ok.’ ‘But they will need to know that you care, Alexander. They will need to know that.’ He nodded to her. He nodded knowingly. ‘They will know that, Jenny. Not right away, so corrupted will be the teaching the religious throw at me. But they will see it in the end. They will see that I exist not to try and rule them. That is done out of necessity. I exist to keep the peace in humanity. In what is becoming a global village, one in which absolute destruction of all humanity could come with just one new scientific war discovery by a hostile nation, the world needs a leader. An absolute leader. Not a religious charlatan, or a Jewish Messiah the racists will reject anyway. They need – they want – an absolute authoritarian who will destroy rebellion. They want – they need – a society in which peace reigns, and not the vanity of a religious smokescreen hiding the darkness which reigns in so many lives. They need a leader – a visionary – who will rule with Justice and Law. Fair law, impartial, providing justly for each and every man, woman and child. A strong, safe world, in which one Government, wisely managed, puts an end to the tyranny of the dictatorships of the past.’

‘Yet I feel they will fear that you are that dictator, Alexander. They will call you the devil himself.’

‘Tis the cross I will bear. Yet I know myself. I know within myself lies the capability of rulership of mankind. To bring law, order and peace. And to make a society in which the hopes and aspirations of all can be realized.’

‘I do hope so, Alexander. I do hope so.’

Chapter Six

In early August, a group of people – a group of people who had various connections, many unknown, to each other – were converging upon Starbucks café in the Centre of Canberra, in Civic, the City hotspot. It was Saturday afternoon, around 2, a great time to be alive in the city centre, were so much of the life of the city lived and breathed its primal existence.

Justine Atkinson, Lucy Smith and her boyfriend Jimmy Morrisson, Francine Jones and Freddie Bulsara and Gemma Watkins arrived at the café as a group. Already there, sitting drinking coffee in a big family get together, were the Rothchild clan, Alexander and Rose, Daniel and Jessica, 3 of Alexander and Rose’s 4 daughters, Melissa, Renee and Judith as well as David and David’s friend’s Charlie and Irene. Arriving just a little later, Madalene Bridges, Lucy’s best friend, and Madalene’s uncle, Daniel Daly.

And, as they sat there, the groups slowly noticing each other, Justine spotted David and said hello. David made introductions, and the group found the connection between Lucy Smith and Madalene Bridges knowing her Uncle Daniel Daly’s friend, Daniel Rothchild, everyone exclaimed it to be a small world after all.

It was a good day for those at that café that afternoon. A good day for a while. After introductions had been made, a strong group dynamic took over, and people chatted freely. There was a sense of community – a small tight knit community, and the conversation flowed freely.

Daniel Rothchild, though, was the first to notice the two Arab looking men, acting shiftily, sitting near them. And when they entered the café, one of them holding a backpack, and left shortly afterwards without it, Daniel was a little bit suspicious. And then the explosion happened, and everyone’s life turned upside down.

Jimmy lasted about 20 minutes, before finally giving up the ghost. He had caught much of the blast, shielding it in a way from many of the others, apart from Charlie, whose left side was the victim of multiple shards of glass penetrating it. They had been sitting nearest the café. Lucy, sitting in front of Jimmy, but on the other side of him to the café, had some bruises, and a minor cut to her forehead, but was ok later, mainly suffering from shock. Everyone else, while shocked, were generally ok. They had been knocked out of their seats, some had minor cuts because of the glass, but nothing which required hospital attention, so the paramedics maintained. Mainly just shock was their concern, which is why most were advised to go to the hospital, but the point was not laboured.

A few days later the police declared, after Daniel’s testimony, that it appeared to be a terrorist linked bombing. The usual Muslim groups were suggested, but in this case they were mistaken. Later on it came out that it had been simply a revenge killing, over the sexual abuse of one of the culprit’s sister. They had finally been apprehended when Daniel identified them in a police line check, and they were sentenced to life without parole.

For so many of the group it had been a shocking, life changing experience. All of them had attended the funeral of Jimmy Morrison at the Anglican Church his grandfather attended, the family being now non-religious. It had been a sombre occasion, and the priest had spoken well, but nobody was in the mood for the wake afterwards, least of all Lucy. She had been really shocked. She had been going to leave Jimmy, of course, but to have him taken away in the manner she had been through was not what she had expected. And for months afterwards she visited his grave every weekend, laying flowers and praying for him.

Towards the end of the year, most of them had begun moving on and forgetting about the accident, life returning to normal in most ways. It had been a shocker, one which had for a while drawn the couples who had been at the group even closer together, thanking God for the mercy shown them in being left alive. But, as people tend to do, they moved on with their lives, looking forward to the New Year and new beginnings.

In late December Lucy was farewelled as she finally took her trip to New York to study at the Redaxxiel School of wizardry and witchcraft. The three girls all said they would write and email everyday, but Lucy soon forgot that promise, so excited was she at starting her new life in New York, funded by the scholarship the Canberra guild of Wizards and Witches had provided for her.

Alexander slowly began making his plans for his church, and started a tiny cell group in early January, which had a small but positive first few services.

Daniel and Jessica drew more closely together as the year passed, and the Rothchild’s celebrated David’s acceptance into Law at the ANU.

They weren’t the only ones celebrating. Justine Atkinson, Gemma Watkins & Francine Jones likewise celebrated their successful applications, and as summer moved along, and university life began, the three of them were ready for the time of their lives. New beginnings were now underway.

The End