Selection (Book 2 of P.O.E. chronicles)

Chapter 36 The Originals

“Let’s go in.” I mustered the inner strength somewhere in the deep of my heart and crossed the threshold. It was time to step up and show Katerina that I was capable of helping the world they made safe. I could hear the others’ footsteps behind me as we walked into an enclosed courtyard in front of a short flight of stairs that lead up to other smaller, wooden double doors.

Marching up the stairs the doors opened themselves before I even touched them. The plush interior that greeted my eyes make me catch my breath. A long red carpet lined a path in front of us leading towards a grand stair case that split into two either side going towards a second floor, which was still visible as balconies. Suits of medieval armors holding spears lined the wall either side of the extravagant entrance with marble floors polished to perfection. A large painting hung where the staircase split and the group of people depicted in it caught my eyes.

It was a ground of twelve people, dressed in casual clothes in a room that looked like it was must belong here. They were all smiling and looking at one another, as though they were happy in each other’s company. I walked closer and my jaw dropped.

It wasn’t just any group of people; it was a portrait of the Originals, probably when they were just getting together. I recognized Katerina immediately, who was sitting on an elegant paisley sofa in between a tanned boy with dark curly hair and an oriental boy with smiling eyes. My first surprise was the girl sitting next to the oriental boy, who must be Chungkit Wong, the earth elementalist from Hong Kong. The girl with wavy red locks and a reluctant but genuine smile on her face was Miss Sewell.

I could tell Casey recognized her too when she gasped behind me, but the boy that was standing next to the sofa, smiling down at a gorgeous blonde next to Miss Sewell was none other than Akram de Silver, the man who sent me here.

My suspicion had finally been confirmed. Akram did know the Originals, and judging from the portrait he knew them very well too. I knew instantly that the beautiful blonde with dazzling green eyes was Victoria Balikova. A Chinese girl with silky locks and porcelain skin sitting on an armchair in front of Akram on the other side, with a handsome Asian man standing behind her, his hands on the back of her chair; they must be Susan Zhou the technopath and Yasim Ganesh. The three men standing behind the paisley sofa with arms around each other; one of them was blonde with blue eyes, the other two dark hairs. I couldn’t tell for sure who was who since history books never provided anything more than their names and powers.

As I took in the painting I had been subconsciously moving forward and now I was standing at the foot of the staircase. I turned around to face the rest of the group and saw all their jaws hanging open and their face puzzled.

“Gail,” Casey started, walking right next to me and pointing to Akram. “That man look just like you.”

Everyone nodded in agreement and I could see the crazy sparkle in Gerald’s eyes again. Even Vanessa and Liam, who must had seen portraits of Akram seemed a little star struck. Briefly I wondered how many of them recognised the others and knew the real significance of this. That didn’t really matter because they will soon find out.

“Isn’t that Miss Sewell? Right next to Katerina Falcon?” Casey whispered in my ears and I nodded, seeing the shock and disbelieve flickering through her eyes. “Does that mean?”

“She must be Saralisa Spenser.” I answered without having to hear her whole question. She was the Original who had the power to heal, to be ageless. There was a small chance that she was just a descendent, but it couldn’t be that much of a coincident.

“This is a painting of the Originals.” Casey gasped and covered her mouth, and I could see the collective shock on everyone’s faces. I could see realization dawn on the de Silver members’ faces as they made the connection. Our founder wasn’t just exceptional, he was up there with the Originals. The only question remained was why did we only have ten and not eleven names in our history book. We knew Akram didn’t die in process, and this would explain the missing ten years of his life. The time he supposedly spent in Paris in hiding.