Chapter 42: Divided Loyalty

The air was stretched taut with nervous tension: clusters of people stood talking in hushed whispers to one another; feelings of heavy electricity seemed to run right over the air like it was just waiting for the clock to lift its hands and then just burst its seams. Standing near the old fountain, Emma watched faces she had known since she was old enough to remember. Eldridge Falls was small and tight, but now it felt like everything was tearing at the seams. One side was lined with older generations-standing faces creased with concern and distrust-people who fought alongside Emma and Nathaniel all those years ago, people who'd witnessed atrocities of the supernatural firsthand, terrified and rightly so. On the other side stood the young generation, or rather, children of those very people; one look in their eyes was that of defiance. Most of them had started to manifest weird powers, something that had been left from the battle against Ancient Evil. The thing is, though, that they are not afraid of it; they grow to love it instead. Their powers were something to be celebrated, not hidden. The weight of the moment pressed down, it seemed, on her shoulder blades as Emma let out a deep sigh. She turned to Nathaniel, standing beside her in contemplative silence, eyes cast out at the crowd. "This is getting worse," Emma said quietly, heavy in tone with concern. "If we don't do something, the town's going to tear itself apart." Nathaniel nodded, his sober words moving to the rhythm of his nodding. "We have to find a bridge before it gets too late.". Above the hum of discussion, one voice rose clear. "We cannot trust them!" It was one of the town elders, Charles Hayward. Anger made his voice vibrate. "You all saw what happened last time. We fought to protect this town against those powers, and now we're just supposed to let them run wild? No way!" And then, in full throttle, it became vendetta all the way, courtesy of this feisty young woman now named Clara: "We are not the enemy, Charles! We are your children, your grandchildren! We did not ask for these powers, but we are not going to hide them. We need to understand that we cannot live in fear like you do." There was chaos as raised voices spoke over one another for Charles and Clara. Emma's heart simply couldn't fall any lower. Here it was. Here was the division she had feared would split asunder the already tenuous peace they had struggled to keep intact. Nathaniel stepped forward, his hand raised in a placating gesture. "Everyone - not here. We have to talk to each other, not shout. By this point, the crowd was beyond redemption; the desperation overflowed. Clara's eyes shone with her new powers, her anger being siphoned into the vortex of energies around her. Cracks and spits of electric air erupted around her, and Emma felt the by-now-familiar shiver run down her spine. "Clara, no!" Emma wailed, flinging herself at the girl. But Clara was beyond consolation. The ground around them began to shudder, and the fountain in the centre of the square began to burst apart, spurting water in violent jets. Charles and the rest fell back, alarmed; some stumbled backwards, others shouted indignant: "See? This is what happens when you let them loose! They can't control it! Clara's face had gone a shade of green, her eyes wide with panic. She hadn't meant to which much was clear-but it was done. The older generation had seen enough, having lived through the destruction the supernatural could cause, and this was just one more reminder of the chaos it could let loose. Nathaniel sprang into action, his hand clamping onto Clara's shoulder. "You have to calm down, Clara. Concentrate. Breathe." Clara was breathing shallowly, her chest rising and falling with a quickening rhythm. Then Nathaniel spoke softly, reassuringly, and she got herself slowly in hand. The earth stopped shaking and, water jetting from the fountain now merely trickled. Emma stepped forward. Her voice was firm, clear, and calm in the stillness. "This is not the way. We cannot let fear push us apart. We must work together, not against each other." Anger ablaze in his eyes, Charles stared hotly at Emma, quivering in his hands. "You're asking us to trust them- Emma after all we have been through?" "Yes," Emma replied to him without ever breaking her stare, "because if we don't, this town won't survive what's coming next." The weight of her words struck full in the square, but before a word in reply could be spoken, another voice slashed through from the rear. Emma's right." Heads turned, and one man stepped forward: older, with dark hair streaked through with grey, and a face lined with years of hard decisions. Emma's breath caught in her throat as she saw who he was. It was Victor Blackwood, brother to Nathaniel, his long-lost brother, and not that long ago, his foe. He had disappeared after the last battle against the Great Evil, and no one had heard from him since then. Before him, a sea of faces stared up at his tranquil yet strong. "I know how every one of you feels," he began. "I sat in your shoes once. I was afraid of what these powers could do to you." But with time, he came to realize one thing: the powers aren't the problem; it is fear. Nathaniel stiffened beside her, his jaw working. It was several years since he had last seen his brother, the parting barely amicable. That Victor should be here now, standing in support of the young generation was a surprise enough. Victor's gaze settled on Clara, who fidgeted awkwardly beside Nathaniel. "You have a gift, Clara, but it is a gift you need to learn to control and suppress. And the only way you'll do that is through understanding. Fear will get nothing sorted." Charles shook his head, his face screwed up in anger. "You think we can trust you, Victor, after all you did? Victor fixed him with a steady regard. "It's not a question of trust that I am asking for. It is a question of comprehension. We cannot go back, we have to go forward. The silence of the crowd was thick now; the tension no longer burst to explode. Emma could see the doubt in Charles' eyes, the uncertainty etched upon the faces of the elder generation. Yet, Victor's words had planted a seed-one that Emma hoped would grow into something that would mend the tear within the town. The crowd was dissipating, and Emma whirled to Victor, her heart threatened to burst through her ribs. "Why are you here, Victor? After all this time?" Victor smiled but didn't let his eyes shine with light. "Because I've seen what's coming, Emma. And we'll need all the help we can get." Later in the night, Emma sat by the fireplace at home; the dancing flames cast long shadows across the room. Opposite her, Nathaniel sat with furrowed brows. "Do you trust him?" Nathaniel asked in a very low, quiet tone. Emma shook her head, looking into the fire. "I don't know. But what other choice do we have? Nathaniel blew a sigh, falling back into his chair. "No, I suppose we don't." The only sound in the silent space that lay between them, Emma's head ran with thoughts of what had happened today-separation within the town, dark returned, and if not proved, Victor returned. Too much in so little time. Events piled up, but they did have to move on. It flickered in her mind now as she sat there, lost; it was of her mother long ago, at the edge of the forest, whispering something that, until now, Emma had never understood. "Some things," she had said, "are never truly gone." The weight those words set, heavy as a cloak upon her, shivered Emma. It was all still here. Brooding. Waiting. And this time, it wasn't going down so easily. As the fire began to calm down, a gnawing sense of dread began to seep deep into Emma's heart. This time, the real battle had only just begun.