Spiritus: a novella

By R.C. Jones

Twenty-year-old Damaris is on the eve of turning twenty-one. She is about to embark on a journey though a maze of family secrets, betrayal, and destiny. Armed with the Society's books and a mysterious necklace, Damaris must find a way to prevent the unthinkable from occuring. Joined by her friends, she seeks the truth. Damaris discovers a reality beyond her imagination and harnesses power she never knew existed. She must decide whom she can trust and where she truly belongs in a world where magic and alchemy meet. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: R.C. Jones
• Release date: Dec 1, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223706021

Book preview

Spiritus

a novella

R.C. Jones

This book is dedicated to my loving and supportive husband,  Adam.  Thank you for letting me talk your head off about my ideas.  I also want to thank my kids,  Jayce and Mayara,  for being my biggest fans.

To my parents and brother,  thanks for always being there for me.

I couldn't have done this without the love and support of my friends Devin Devine,  500Milly,  Siri,  Tonga,  Leo Luna, NoPlaceJoy,  Jose,  Marcro,  Kaneo,  Zimmetry,  Nessy The Rilla,  Tony Parisi,  and the rest of my imaginary internet family.

Last,  but certainly not least,  thank you to the web3 music community for your undying support.  Specifically,  I want to thank Josh Savage for reminding me I don't always have to be so strong.  Your words reached me when I needed them the most.

Contents

Title Page

Dedication

chapter 1

chapter 2

chapter 3

chapter 4

chapter 5

chapter 6

chapter 7

chapter 8

chapter 9

chapter 10

chapter 11

chapter 12

chapter 13

chapter 14

chapter 15

chapter 16

chapter 17

chapter 18

chapter 19

chapter 20

chapter 21

chapter 22

chapter 23

chapter 24

chapter 25

To be continued...

About The Author

chapter 1

The sun glided gracefully beneath the tops of the trees across the street from my flat and I knew in that moment the seasons were well into their change. It had been a slightly warmer day than expected. I could feel, in my bones, the chill in the night that the day had deceptively hidden. I had always loved the change of the seasons. The trees were transformed to colors of fire and the sky illuminated with a sort of melody of neon and pastel. When I was a child, my mother called this the most important time of year. It was when I would often find her in a similar place as I was standing. In front of a window watching the magic unfold.

This year, if she were still alive, my mother would have been eager for this day to come. It was the eve of my twenty-first birthday. For some reason, this was a day my mother had been telling me about for years, but she never told me why it was so special. Just wait until you are twenty-one. Your whole life will make sense. The thought of her words made my head spin. She had been gone for over a year, so I would never be able to ask her what she knew that I did not.

A gentle breeze blew the branches just outside my window and my trance seemed to be broken. I knew I needed to stop dwelling on things I could not make heads or tails of in this moment. It was going to be a special night. I was determined to make it so. As I tucked my hair behind my ears, I shifted away from the window to my kitchenette to make some tea. My kettle always remained on the stove. It was as necessary to my daily life as my favorite blanket was to my most comfortable nights.

Just as the kettle began to whistle, I heard a knock on my door. It was so slight. I almost thought it was the wind. For good measure, I walked over to the door and glanced through the peephole. Nothing. Maybe it was just the wind. I decided to just make my tea, but as I turned to walk away, there was another tap at my door. I twisted the knob and opened the door ever-so-slightly. I did not see anyone in the hallway. Opening the door all the way, I noticed the box on the ground. I peered into the hall to see if anyone was around, but it was empty. I bent down to examine the package. It was wrapped in brown paper and the only words written on it were:

Damaris Yardley

Open Alone

The package was sitting on my table, stoic and out of place. Pacing, I tried to determine if I should open it or not. It had my name on it, but with no return address or indication of who it was from. I was apprehensive. The steam from my tea cup was waning and my nerves were on the rise. Who would just drop off a gift and leave?

I paced once more in front of the table and decided to just go for it. I slipped my finger under the open edge of the paper and was taken aback by the quality; it was not your average wrapping paper. Crisp and smooth, with a faint scent only found in antique bookstores, the paper tore away effortlessly. Beneath it was a black box with no distinguishing features other than a brass closure on the front. The box was mysteriously alluring. I gently lifted the brass arm and opened the box to see a smooth, red silk covering its contents. A card sat upon the silk and beckoned me to read it.

My daughter,

I wish I could be with you when you receive this gift. Not just the contents of this box, but what you will be at the rise of your day. I have been anticipating this day since you were born. The answers you will receive, and the choices you will be faced with, start here. My love, remember I am always with you and you are always with the spirit of my heart.  

I had to read the card twice to understand that I was reading my mother’s words for the first time since she passed. Her handwriting brought me a strange comfort, but as usual I was left with more questions than answers.

I put the card down on the table, next to the box, and gently lifted the silk. My eyes fell upon a tarnished chain adorned with a ruby-colored stone. It was plain and, other than the stone, had nothing notable about it. I lifted the necklace out of the box and was surprised by the weight of it. The stone was large, but held very little mass. Surrounding it was a wreath of gold feathers with the same tarnished hue of the chain. The back of the wreath was flat and aged and upon close inspection I noticed an engraving along the bottom edge.

Spera Volantium

chapter 2

My attention shifted to yet another sound at my door. Startled, I dropped the necklace back in the box and closed the lid. I placed my hand on my chest and took a deep breath. My door swung open and Leonia bounced inside. Happy birthday eve!, she yelled. Oh my, you look as though you’d seen a ghost.

Leonia was my best friend and in her own way, she always knew how to make an entrance. She was small in stature and had an almost pixie-like presence. Her short bob lay just under her earlobes and she always had a clasp holding back her fringe. I always knew when she was around because she wore charms around her wrist that jingled with her every movement. The seven charms were almost as much a part of her identity as her undying positivity.

What are you doing? Why aren’t you ready yet?

I looked at her with a blank stare and realized I probably looked very odd to her. I stood up straight and backed away from the table to greet her properly. She met my outstretched arms with one of her signature hugs and I felt my anxiety melt away. I am so glad you made it. The sincerity in my voice did not come across as convincingly as I had hoped.

Damaris… you know we have to leave in less than an hour!

She was right. We had plans for my birthday tonight and I had spent so much time drifting off into memories