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Mark of Petra

by Abigail McFarrlen 2 months ago in Series · updated 3 days ago
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Part 1

“Aw! Is she crying? Is the orphan crying?” Fiona stood limp with her head bowed low as if the ground itself was pulling it down. A few sniffles here and there but no sounds or crying or fear came from her. She firmly grasped her school backpack as if its continents held great value. “Wow! She won't even fight back! Are you scared little orphan girl?”, the kids say as they push her into the bookcase. Still with her head hung low in what seemed like scheduled defeat and hopelessness. Fiona remained silent. The ring leader of these sinister teen bullies from her school was just about to administer yet another low blow when a nearby librarian caught wind of the ruckus in the back of the library. “Absolutely not!” She exclaimed. “This is not only unruly behavior for a library, know that your actions have just served all of you a call to your parents from me!” They gasped and began to dart out of the library. The librarian quickly rushed over to the young and tortured Fiona, still with her head down, crying, yet in silence. “Are you alr…”. Before the librarian could finish her sentence, Fiona ran out of there without saying as much as a thank you. The librarian hadn’t seen her again. She often thought of her often in hopes that she was well.

A young woman with a case and large purse full of papers and books walks into the library. That same tortured unfortunate soul walks back into the very same library she ran out of 10 years ago. Fiona was strikingly beautiful, she is tall, has short, and full black hair, her skin is likened to the Sahara sands. She gracefully approaches the help desk. “I'll be with you in juuussst a moment” the librarian said unremittingly as she typed with one finger at a time. As the librarian looks up she continues, “Alright, then how may I he…”. Fiona looked at her in confusion and looked around her in awkward silence, wondering why this woman was behaving strangely. “It’s..” the librarian started to say while she removed her glasses and tilted her head as if to get a better angle, “well it's you isn’t it? The young girl that was back there”, as she pointed behind her to their left. “Getting picked on by those awful kids. It's you isn't it?” Fiona's eyes widened and she clutched the work case she brought with her as if she was that little girl yet again all those years ago. “Please, I just need help in gathering a few books for my dissertation,” Fiona said trying to refocus the “librarian and customer” dynamic. The librarian smiled and looked down at her desk, as her hands tried to find the chair behind her, “Of course. What might you be looking for dear?” Fiona stood back up and straightened up her countenance, and handed her a list. “Is there somewhere I can go where I will not be disturbed?” asked Fiona. “Sure. It’s just through there to the left”, she said as she was putting her glasses back on. “Oh and if you should need anything, just come find me, my name is Ms. Clarion”.

Fiona looked toward the way she was to go and slowly walked that way. She had many flashbacks to when she was pinned up against the bookcase just there. She paused and stared off as though she’s recalling a distant memory. Ms. Clarion walked towards Fiona and stopped directly behind her. “Are you alright dear?” she asked Fiona. Fiona came to, shook her head, stood high, and says, “yes of course I am”. She turned to face Ms. Clarion and asks while grabbing the books from her, “Right. Are those for me then?” Ms. Clarion shook her head in confirmation, smiled, and turned to walk away, but she needed to ask a burning question. "Fiona, I’ve been trying to piece together why your face reminds me of a young woman I once knew. Do you know of a woman named Petra?” Placing the books on the desk, Fiona looks down, takes a deep breath, and replies, “She’s…she was my mother. She passed away while giving birth to me, so…” and she sat down never making eye contact. “Oh my I am so sorry! I did not mean to offend. But I need you to know that you are very special indeed! You are meant to be so much more.” Ms. Clarion said in such a caring way. Fiona slams her hand on the desk, but refrains from making a scene, she quietly says, “Ms. Clarion, I did not come here to discuss a mother I never knew nor to have a talk with a therapist about what or who I "really" am. Now if you'll excuse me, I must focus on my research for my dissertation. I am to be a doctor of science and reason that is what I am 'meant to be'". Fiona sat back down and began to open her books to focus. Ms. Clarion walked away knowing she may have overstepped some boundaries.

Hours have passed and the library is closing. Fiona stretches her neck to the left and right in hopes to relieve the crook in her neck from looking down at books all day. She lets out a long sigh and stretches in her chair. She then felt a strong gush of wind blow past her. Startled, she looks around to see no one and realizes there are no doors or windows where she is seated. “Hello? Anyone there?” Fiona says aloud in hopes it was someone so at least she can confirm she is not going crazy. No one responds. “Hey there…” Ms. Clarion says while startling Fiona. “Ms. Clarion! You scared me half to death!” Fiona exclaims while firmly pressing her chest. “I'm sorry! I was just coming to apologize for any offense I may have caused and to give you this”, Ms. Clarion says while extending to Fiona a large ancient leather-bound book. “Wow! What is this thing?” Fiona asked while taking the book from her. Fiona was about to open it when Ms. Clarion yells, “Wait! There is something you must know first before you open this book”. Fiona looks back at Ms. Clarion with great concern and allows her to finish. “I’m not just a librarian. I am what I was to your mother and her mother before her. I am the aid of the “mark-bearers”, Ms. Clarion explains. “Wait. I'm sorry, I'm not following”, Fiona responds confusingly. “Fiona, your mother, her mother, and others like them were born marked, tasked to The Way. When they accepted their higher calling, the Book changed their name, their very identity to that of Petra. That was your mother's name wasn’t it and your grandmother?” Ms. Clarion asked. “Ye-yes. But if that were true my father would have named Petra and not Fiona before he died a year after I was born. You know what! What am I doing trying to make sense of this? You’re crazy!” Fiona at this point is irritable. “Well, remember no one can change your name, not even you. Only the Book. Once you open this Book you will be portalled, as it were, to a place of Choicemaking, and there you only have one chance to choose your destiny as it is laid out for you or you may choose the one you have been scoring out yourself”, Ms. Clarion paused, “the world needs you Fiona, so the decision you make is no small matter”. A Strong wind like a whirlwind rushed into the library! Their clothes and hair flapping furiously by the wind! But the books and furniture seemed to be untouched. “What is happening! I'm scared! I’m Fiona Hatchberry a PHd candidate. This can’t be happening! This isn't scientifically possible!” Fiona yelled out. “It’s your destiny calling for you. It's your choice, The Book waits for you! What will it be Fiona?” Ms. Clarion yells back due to the violent sounds from the whirlwind. Fiona looks down at the book, and looks back at Ms. Clarion, “You are more than you realize! Open the Book!” Ms. Clarion yells back. Fiona looks back down at the book. She then cries out, while she opens the book. The whirlwind ceases and Ms. Clarion is now there alone in hopes that she chooses her true destiny.

Moments later, Fiona reappears as if she was dropped back into the room. Her knees are bent one arm carrying the Book and the other she used to regain balance. She somehow looked different, there was a glow about her, her hair was longer, full, and flowing, and she no longer had on glasses. Instead of the facade of a confident, sure young woman that walked into the library, she was presented as genuinely bold and full of purpose. She looked up at Ms. Clarion. “Fiona?” Ms. Clarion asks. “No, Ms. Clarion, my name is Petra!”

Series

About the author

Abigail McFarrlen

I am a new writer on the scene! The fantastical world of imagination and the mysteries of the unseen captivate my soul! I hope you enjoy reading my stories as much as I did writing them! Thank you for your support and encouragement!

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