The Phoenix Effect: Chapter I

I

The Broken Road

         To say she did not know who she was would, frankly, be an understatement. Three months ago, she had awoken in a hospital with no memories. She could not even summon her own name from the fog that shrouded her mind. For all intensive purposes, she had become just another ‘Jane Doe’. Her case had baffled the experts. As far as they could research, she had no medical records. Her birth record and social security number could not be traced through the national database. Her finger prints did not register to any name, any face.

         To them, she simply did not exist.

         She was forced to start over. No name. No family. No proof of formal education. The local social security office had provided her with the essentials, including a birthday, social security number, and fingerprint records. Through their best guesses, her officers had placed her around twenty-three, give or take a year. She chose ‘Marie’ as her first name. She thought it might have been close to her mother’s name, whoever that was. The office outfitted her with a last name, ‘L’Huthereaux’. They would try to pass her off as an immigrant to the country. 

         She had managed to find a vacancy in a nearby boarding house run by a kind old lady, Mrs. Daniel. At 87, Mrs. Daniel’s health was rapidly failing, and by now she had assumed a complexion similar to a fresh plum. Marie did not mind the woman, though did not appreciate Mrs. Daniel taking pity on her because of her situation. Despite not knowing if she really knew anything, Marie had a feeling that she had always been a fairly independent person. As of late she was, for lack of better terminology, a “Jack of all Trades”. Since she was unaware as to whether or not she had any forms of professional training, Mrs. Daniel had pulled some strings and gotten her a job in the local bookstore and café. Gregory Camden had been skeptical about hiring a Jane Doe, but reluctantly agreed if only to get Mrs. Daniel out of his short hair.

         Camden had started her out in the back room, unpacking shipments and sorting books onto various carts to be loaded onto shelves. She wore the simple uniform, a black collared polo with Camden’s scrawled across the left chest and a nametag pinned to the other. She had picked up on Camden’s business system quickly, and had become good friends with Gregory’s sister, Allison. She ran the café area towards the back of the store. After several weeks, Camden had grown pleased with her back room efforts after she had quickly set up an efficient organizational system for the other staff members. Camden then placed her on the register, quickly teaching her how to make change and perform various operations.

         She had been working at Camden’s for almost six months when he walked through the front door looking for some information on Scottish castles and forgotten monasteries.

         “Certainly,” Marie had responded. “Are you looking for a certain location, sir?” Eager to finally help somebody officially, Marie first led him to the travel section. When he further expressed his interest in the historical aspect rather than traveling to the destination, Marie led him to the other side of the store. A few awkward minutes passed before his nibble fingers grasped at a rather old looking book.

         “This one will do,” He muttered, not raising his eyes from the book to meet hers despite the fact he was several inches taller than her. Somewhere in the back of her head Marie felt like she knew him, but from where she could not remember. Her eyes fell back to the book he was tenderly flipping through.

         The worn pages looked as though they had been written long before her time, and the script looked to be copied by hand. The thick leather binding was frayed and there was no title on the front flap. The young man seemed to be engulfed in the information before him. Marie did not recognize the language on the book’s pages.

         “You know,” She spoke after several long and awkward moments as she led him back to the front counter. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen that book before.” She saw the young man freeze up from the corner of her eye, before his shoulders fell despairingly. She decided to make nothing of it. His emerald eyes suddenly took on a defeated look, the book making a soft thump as he placed it on the counter. For a moment, Marie became captivated by the worn leather object. Despite having no memories whatsoever, she felt oddly connected to the threshold of knowledge before the young man.

         “Is everything all right?” His gruff voice interrupted her wandering thoughts. Shaking her head, she quickly typed something into the computer. Excusing herself briefly, Marie reappeared moments later with Gregory. Marie saw Gregory physically tense up when he laid eyes on both the young man and the book, but again chose to make nothing of it. She would ask him about it later.

         “What’s the problem, Marie?” Gregory leaned on his elbow against the counter, watching as she typed through various organizational files on the computer. His eyes quickly scanned the screen, before disappearing into the back room mumbling about something.

         “It seems that the book is not even registered in the system.” She paused, shuffling noises came from the back room. Camden was obviously searching for something. “Listen, why don’t you just take it?” His eyebrows disappeared underneath his curly hair in surprise. For all she knew, she could be giving away a book worth several thousands of dollars. “It’s okay…I think. I don’t think Greg’s even seen a book that old in his whole life and you look like you really need it for research or something.”

         His gruff ‘thank you’ was something to be desired, but she smiled kindly nonetheless. He quickly stuffed the heavy book into a worn satchel, careful not to crush an ancient looking diary. She offered him a quiet place to study in the café at the back of the shop, but he declined saying most of his research was back at his apartment before slipping back onto the busy street.

         “I have seen books that old in my life, you know.” Camden’s heavy accent floated from the back room. Marie squeaked and whirled around expecting to see an angry Camden standing behind her. However, she found him leaning in the doorway, a cigarette hanging from his lips despite the fact he had a strict ‘no smoking’ policy in the building. An odd expression hung behind dark eyes. “But whatever, he seemed like he really knew something about what that book was about.”

~‡~

         Jethro left the small café and bookstore as quickly as possible. He hadn’t expected to find her this early in his journey, and working at a bookstore run by Gregory Camden no less. To be honest, he was not even sure if he would be able to pick her out. What if she had changed? Looked different from his Marie? Initially he had not put much thought into the details; but he had found her easily, and despite being a common color her blue-grey eyes held no equal. The fact that she seemed to have lost her memory unnerved him. He was not aware that memory loss was possible with this “gift” of theirs. Finding a way to awaken her memories, however, would require the powers of a higher council.

         Pulling his jacket closer, he disappeared down a nearby alley that opened up several streets over. The heavy book that he had managed to “steal” from Camden was a hand written manuscript belonging to Abbot Isaac McLaughlin of northern Scotland.

         More fragments of his memory had awakened in the time he had spent reading the diary. Jethro Barrett from 1915 had been a world renowned concert pianist. His favorite food had been scones, and despite the fact that he had been as skinny as a twig, he delighted in eating whatever was placed in front of him with no regard to the amount. He remembered having a dog named Pilot, and that his niece Allison had been entrusted to his care while his brother, who had been mentioned as David, was away on a military campaign. Unfortunately, he could not remember what type of dog Pilot was or whatever happened to his dear Allison. 

         He shook his head violently as he wove through the crowed sidewalks. It seemed the further he tried to push into his memories looking for the key, the thicker the fog became; he was swarmed with painful migraines. He had to find the key to their memories, before something inevitably dangerous erupted across the planet.   

~‡~

         Abbot McLaughlin was not a terribly social man. With his whole life dedicated to the clergy and the heavens above, he found more solace and comfort in worn, stiff pages than a warm friendly face. A naturally stingy man, McLaughlin played by the book and did not approve of the younger clergyman breaking away from strict centuries old traditions. With a long angled face, sharp eyes and a beak–like nose McLaughlin had quickly earned the nickname ‘The Crow’ from those who served the clergy under him. Often times he simply scoffed, and retired to his study in an abandoned part of the monastery his brotherhood resided in. 

         Officially, McLaughlin’s brotherhood, The Sons of Judas, did not exist in the church’s records. Hundreds of years ago, his sect had been created by the Pope to house and guard a terrible secret that, if revealed to the public, would shatter the very foundation of their faith. While McLaughlin knew what was involved in this prophecy, he had yet to discover who it involved. He had been informed by his predecessor, Abbot James Doherty, that they always came in pairs, whoever they were, and that they would come to him. So he had waited. McLaughlin had been waiting almost fifty years to be approached by these agents of the Lord.