The Society of the Ethereal Medallion

Time to Get Outta Dodge

My medallion scorched my skin, waking me from the trance.

"Wait! What happened?! What did you do?!"

I descended to the floor, rushing to take off the necklace. My skin was charred, the bright flesh red with a small emblem of the medallion.

Others who wore the medallions yelled and screamed at the torching of their skin, struggling to take off their chains.

I sighed with relief once I tore it off, tossing it to the ground.

Leo ran up to the throne, yanking me back by my hair, holding a knife to my throat, "What have you done?! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!"

"Freed Atlantis from your reign," I simpered.

"No, we had you!"

"Did you?!"

My mind flashed back to before I had left the Indian man's house to where the plan had formed initially.

"My gift to you, Elysia, is freedom. Now...what is your name?"

"Rosalie Greene."

"Where were you born?"

"London, England."

"Who are your parents?"

"John and Ruth Greene? I'm sorry I'm not getting the point of this exercise."

"Shh. Let go of your mind. Silence it and allow it to open to a new way of thinking."

There was something about his voice that made me relax, to let go.

I heard a matchbox and an ignited flame. "What does this smell remind you of?"

I smelled lavender; I couldn't quite put my finger on it. "I love lavender."

"Do you remember where you first smelled it?"

"I-" I stammered.

Where had I smelled that before? I couldn't decide whether my mother would light her favorite lavender candle or my father planted lavenders in our garden. No. My mother didn't like lavender, neither did my father. They were allergic.

"My parents are allergic."

"If you will allow me." A trickle ran down my naked arm like a brush of tiny leaves. "They told you you were allergic?"

"Before they told me I was adopted, yes. I've always loved lavenders...but they never let it in the house." I rubbed my arm where he had rubbed the lavender. I was never sure why they did that.

"When did you learn the game?"

"Game?" I wanted to be confused; I struggled to push my thoughts aside in fear I would not receive the gift he wished to bestow on me.

"Ganjifa."

"A friend of mine in India taught me when I was three. He used to give me," I paused, realizing that this man was no different than the one I knew. "He would give me...Masala Chai to drink," I recalled that tea, the same one I had sipped not long ago.

"Your parents always took you on expeditions with them. Do you recall what they would do? Who was with them? What did you do?"

"They would have their archaeological friends; they would dig and talk, study and find. I was always studying in the tents by the expeditions; I could never mingle with other children."

"Why?"

"They were...they said they were protecting me."

"What were they protecting you from?"