The Traveler

The dusty road stretched out long and narrow before her as she put one foot in front of the other. The orange backpack, which carried her meager things (a too-small sweatshirt and jeans and a box of stale Froot Loops) bumped gently against her back as she walked along. She was in no particular hurry, as, after all, she had nowhere to go. She whistled as she walked in her worn gray tennis shoes, because this was an unused road. She normally tried to stay undetected, fully aware that if someone saw her, the CPS could find her and back she'd be in one of those idiotic orphanages.
         I wouldn't have escaped, she thought now, her long black hair whipping in the wind, if it hadn't been for that day.
Indeed, the day before she had escaped had not treated Basil kindly. That morning the staff, expressionless as always, had made sure she'd had a breakfast of oatmeal that, even though it tasted fine, looked to her on that cloudy day like a bowl of gray slop-something a mother would never feed their child.
A mother. Basil had always felt this empty space in her heart where a family member- any family member- should be. A father, mother, brother, sister. Even a goldfish...but she had nothing. Basil remembered shaking her head, trying to snap out of her pity party, but it hadn't worked. Not this time.
         She'd cried for a long time. When someone whose name she didn't know peeked in the door, saying roughly, "Why aren't you at school, orphan?" she had glared at them. This was something, as neutral as the employees usually were, that they were never supposed to do. "Never," said the Running an Orphanage state-issued pamphlet that Basil had once seen on someone's desk, "accentuate the fact that said charges are alone in the world. They have virtually no family, and pointing this out will make them irritated and uncooperative."
         Basil wasn't just a number, just someone's charge. Alone in the world...this had been the last straw. No, Basil wasn't just an orphan.
Rage had filled her. She had walked right up and punched the unsuspecting woman in the face.
While the woman was still screaming out of surprise, Basil had grabbed her backpack and a change of clothes. She'd then snatched the box of Froot Loops right from the woman's hand.
In search of someone who truly cared, she escaped.
It had been a few days now. She'd realized that she, in order not to be carted back there, had to stay away from people. How this would help her find what she was looking for, Basil did not know. But she did know she didn't want to go back to that orphanage, ever again.
As the memory faded away, Basil realized she was standing on the road, quietly crying.
She'd been trying to stay out of sight for what felt like a long time. It's refreshing, thinks Basil, not to have to worry about prying eyes.
Strolling along this dusty road, she was unaware of the set of eyes watching her now.

___

In the Space Between, Auberon kept a watchful eye on the one who would be the Traveler.
Travelers- the ones who belonged everywhere, and yet nowhere-they were those who could travel into the Space Between, into the very fabric of space-time. They could jump between dimensions, and forward and backward in time. Basil had this ability.
Basil.
Until he'd been assigned to her, Auberon thought maybe he'd made the wrong choice. But he knew in his heart that it was right. He'd chosen to remain good. Not to become an Ethereal.
Basil herself, too, had solidified his decision. He had watched her over the years, waiting until she was ready, and he'd seen the way she acted. She thought that no one cared. This struck at Auberon's heart. If only she knew...
Auberon, having watched over her for 14 years, knew the patterns of her very breath. He was her Spirit Guardian. It was his responsibility to watch over her...
If only she knew.
But Auberon did not have to wish much longer. Basil was ready now, and he was going to initiate her very soon.

TO BE CONTINUED...