Keepers of the Zodiac

Keepers

of the

Zodiac

Sharon Wood

By Sharon Wood

Copyright © 2012 Sharon Wood

Smashwords Edition

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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Table of Contents

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

11

12

13

This book is dedicated to my dad. Even though his bedtime stories consisted only of Once Upon a Time, The End, without his real life guidance, I would have no idea how to talk story.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

First and foremost, I must express gratitude to the AMAZING Alan Troup who was my Editor, Everything Knower Abouter, Idea Thrower Arounder, and general sounding board all rolled into one. Without him, I would have truly been lost. Thank you to my cousins, Jamie and Lilia, for trying their best to stay awake while hearing me read the book out loud to them, despite it being after midnight. Thanks also to my cousin, Priscilla, who let me model the character Priscilla after her. I am grateful to my mother-in-law, Cotton, for the time and energy she put into the artwork of Syrie, even though I did not end up using it for the cover.

Somewhere along the line, I heard that many people that start writing a book, never finish. To all of the people that supported me along the way, I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your backing, as it was one of the main things that kept me motivated, and chugging along. To my neighbor, and fellow Author, Marty, if it hadn’t been for your advice to make the characters’ lives suck, the book would not be what it is today. Finally, a big MAHALO to my family and friends for their everyday love and support.

1

The High Council sat in silence. The air was so unmoving that even the stillness was still and the quietness was quiet. In the thousands of years since the Zodiac High Council’s formation, they had only formally come together a handful of times—each meeting more urgent than the last. This gathering would prove to be the most important of all. Each one had experienced an emotional and physical stirring too strong to ignore. They had been summoned to the House of Stars by their elements: Eliara by earth, Tambool by fire, Inaroh by air, and Maralaya by water.

The House of Stars was a magnificent structure that sat in the sky without any support. The walls and floor were made of glass, so that the only views were of the night sky all around. The Council sat at a large, square table, also made of glass. To the north sat Eliara, the earth. Her frame was petite, but she was as strong as the element she represented. Her chestnut colored hair was long and wavy, and her dark brown eyes were doe-like, with long eyelashes. She had an unpretentious way about her—grounded and firm, gentle and serene.

Tambool, to the south, was fire. He could only be described as the complete essence of a Greek God—perfectly chiseled in all the right places, as if carved by hand from stone. He was tall and dreamy with cropped, fiery red hair and kitten cream colored skin. His hazel eyes were the color of a fall leaf, brilliant yet muted from the season’s progression. Despite Tambool’s entrancing appearance, his personality was anything but. In keeping with his fire form, Tambool was brazen, brash, unforgiving, and hotheaded.

Inaroh, the air, sat to the east—his blue eyes sparkling along with the twinkling stars. His hair was the color of fresh fallen snow, and fell silky and straight upon his shoulders. He was short in stature, but mighty just the same. A man of few words, he only spoke when spoken to, or when he felt it absolutely necessary. In contrast to his demure demeanor was his mouth, with the left corner of his lips slightly higher than the right, giving the impression of an ever-so-slight-half- grin. His commonplace silence, and near lack of expression, made him mysterious to the others.

To the west sat Maralaya. She was a beautiful sight to behold. She was tall and lean with long, thick, black flowing hair and caramel-colored skin. Although she was many thousands of years old, she had the appearance of a woman in her late forties, and was sophisticated and poised. Her blue eyes were steel, although there was nothing sharp about them. She was everything water. The serene lakes, the tepid ponds, the trickling streams, the powerful oceans—they all belonged to her, and she to them. Wild and temperamental one minute, she was peaceful and serene the next.

For three hours they had been sitting like this; completely still, no words, no movement. They were well aware that words and actions must be chosen extremely carefully in The House of Stars, as the stars were so delicate that one raised voice or rushed gesture could knock them out of alignment. And out of alignment they already were.

The sound of wings broke up the extended silence. A very large, brilliantly colored bird appeared from the night sky. It kept flapping until its legs touched the ground—at which point it turned into a beautiful, sparsely clothed man. He was a vision. Hair and eyes, the color of a spilled oil puddle on the ground, where if one looked closely enough, the magnificent hues of a swirly iridescent rainbow could be seen. He was bronzed, masculine, and broad shouldered, and Maralaya, Eliara, and Tambool could not help but hold their breath at the sight of him. Even the ever-cool Inaroh seemed to shift uncomfortably when he was present, and the others weren’t sure if it was out of jealousy or a secret attraction. He was named Syrie and was a gift from Iris, the Greek Goddess of rainbows, and Artemis, the Greek Goddess of the hunt. Using their own attributes as inspiration, they had created him specifically for the four, and his only purpose was to act as their herald. Usually beaming, this time, Syrie’s expression was stoic.

What say you, Syrie? asked Inaroh sternly.

It is time, Syrie answered, surely yet softly.

The four didn’t have to ask what Syrie meant. They had known that the Dawning of the Fin would eventually come. Without hesitation, the four got up from their chairs, and raised their heads to the night sky. Eyes closed, each began to mutter words that Syrie did not understand, but he knew what they were doing. They were consulting the stars.

The Dawning of the Fin was the most significant event in the past, present, and future of the Zodiac. They knew it was coming, as they had been noticing the signs for the past few hundred years—and each of them were finding it harder and harder to control their elements. The waters were more temperamental, the winds more powerful, the Earth less fertile, and the fires harder to extinguish.

The biggest sign, however, was the shifting of the stars. To the untrained eye, the sky would have seemed no different, but the four had been consulting the stars for thousands of years, and they knew better. It was written that once the stars started to shift, so would the human race, and with that would come its ultimate demise.

The Zodiac High Council was tasked with the maintenance of the fragile balance of the Zodiacal signs. Eliara was in charge of the Earth signs—Taurus, Virgo, and Capricorn; Tambool had the fire signs—Aries, Leo, and Sagittarius; Inaroh maintained the air signs—Gemini, Libra, and Aquarius; and Maralaya kept watch over the water signs—Cancer, Scorpio, and Pisces.

Syrie, who had been assigned to watch for any drastic changes in human behavioral patterns for the past few hundred years, had only himself noticed a shift over the last year. He had witnessed firsthand a man standing on top of a building, getting ready to jump off. Thankfully, the police had been able to coax him down. When a local news station had asked him why he wanted to jump, he answered that he hadn’t felt like himself for a while and that he didn’t know what was wrong with him. Similarly, Syrie heard about a woman that had pushed her fiancé off a mountain during a hiking trip. A passerby had found her sitting by herself crying and asked if she was alright, at which time she admitted to pushing him, but having no idea why she did it.

There were other things too, like bank robberies, fights, and shootings. At first, Syrie assumed those happenings were commonplace acts of depression and violence that one could find in the news on any given day of the week. But, soon he realized that all of the wrongdoings were related, in that the perpetrators had no clue why they were committing the crimes. People that were born under the Gemini sign and were typically on the move, curious, and mischievous, were now becoming lazy, uninterested, and emotionless. Virgos, who were normally trusting, shy, and compassionate, were turning into cynical, boisterous, and uncaring individuals. And it was this way for the rest of the signs as well. Although he had seen the negative events for the past year, he did not want to go to the High Council to confirm that the Dawning of the Fin was happening until he was absolutely sure. Now he was. The High Council no longer had complete control over the delicate signs, and they needed help fast.

Syrie watched as three envelopes appeared in each of the Council members’ hands. They took turns sealing their individual envelopes by pressing their palms into the back flap, as though their hands themselves were inked stamps. They then turned the envelopes around and stared into the paper, at which point, a different symbol appeared on the front side of each envelope. Once they were finished, they handed their envelopes to Syrie, bade him good luck, and sent him, once again, into the night sky.

2

On many occasions, when Syrie did not have any pressing Council orders, he would take his time flying from place to place. He had gone to almost every single place on Earth—doing his best to fly only at night to remain unseen. Not that people weren’t used to seeing birds fly in the sky, but they certainly weren’t used to seeing birds his size. During the day, he would enjoy his human form to the fullest extent. The High Council weren’t the only ones entranced by his stunning good looks, and he was gawked at and pursued by females and males alike wherever he went.

He liked how people reacted to him. Niji no otoko, or rainbow man, is how they would refer to him in Tokyo. Somehow, he was most popular with the high school-aged girls there, who liked taking pictures next to him while throwing up the peace sign. He found it strange that they always wanted photographs with him, when their appearances, with their experimental hairstyles, colorful clothing, and geometrically impossible shoes, were even edgier. Since he was blessed with the ability to understand every single language, over time, he heard enough people conclude that he must be a Hollywood star of some sort. Apparently, many Japanese adored American stars, and Syrie’s undeniable good looks and multi-colored hair and eyes only gave credence to their speculations.

He even signed an autograph here and there, using the names of popular celebrities at the time, for which he would receive one of three reactions. The first was what he liked to refer to as the jump, clap, and giggle. That was where the young girl, after receiving his autograph, would see the name, and having no idea that he wasn’t really the person he claimed to be on paper, began jumping up and down while clapping and giggling. The second, reserved for the shyer type, he referred to as the hunch, in which the young girl would hunch her shoulders and giggle while covering her mouth with one hand, once again having no idea that he really wasn’t who he was impersonating. The third, and his personal favorite, was the brow. That consisted of the person seeing his autograph, furrowing his or her eyebrow while looking up at him, then looking back down at the autograph with a sideways glance just in case they read the name wrong.

He loved the freedom of being a new person each place he visited, and had an easy time convincing others of his personas. He could be a circus performer from Russia one day, and the next, a professor of theology from Barcelona. He spent so many years studying people that he really could have been his alter egos. A few times he even revealed his true identity, for which he would receive a and I’m God response, or a laugh that said you’re funny.

For the foreseeable future, he would not be traveling for pleasure. He had a job to do and the entire fate of mankind depended on him. It was the next morning after the Council had sent him off into the night sky with twelve, sealed envelopes. It was early enough that the street lamps still shone brightly on the sidewalks. He touched down in an alleyway, with the only other inhabitants of the area being sleeping street people. Even if one of them had seen him appear from the sky, and told someone about it, he knew no one would believe it.

Chinatown, a small district tucked in the heart of San Francisco, California, was one of his favorite places to visit. He had visited the real China many times, but he loved this copycat version for the sameness, yet newness it had to offer. In fact, that is what he loved most about America in general. Where else could you find such a hodgepodge of diversity? It seemed that every nationality in the world was represented. He found it utterly fascinating that people could move here whether or not they spoke English, find or form a community of others just like them, and live as though they were not even in a different country.

America was the first place to be affected by the shifting of the stars. Syrie knew that the other countries were soon to follow, which is why his task was of the utmost importance. His quest to deliver all twelve envelopes would soon be taking him all over America. But, for now, the rest of the country would have to wait, because today, he was only focused on Chinatown and one of its’ inhabitants. Her name was Leena. Leena was the seventeen-year-old daughter of an immigrant mother and father who had come to the United States after insistence from her father’s uncle. Leena’s parents both worked in Chinatown; her mother as a seamstress and her father as a small restaurant owner. Leena, when not in school, worked at