Aestas Invictus
by Demeter

prologue

The early November sun was almost blinding after the gloomy interior of Arcadia High. Joan blinked and shaded her eyes as she walked down the front steps. The weather was warm for the time of year, a brief spot of sun before what was sure to be a hard winter. Some golden brown autumn leaves still clung to the nearly bare branches of the spreading oaks, waiting only for the first frost to fall.

As Joan made her way out of the schoolyard, breathing the crisp air and looking forward to an increasingly rare homework-free weekend, she could almost imagine she was happy if she didn't think about it too hard. She sat down on the low wall in front of the school, swinging her legs idly as she waited for Luke.

Adam Rove walked down the front steps and Joan's sense of peace was ruined. She watched him as he walked, hoping desperately for acknowledgement. He passed by without so much as a glance, though he clearly noticed her. His eyes were filled with an endless sadness that had recently replaced the searing rage that used to be there. Joan preferred the anger. She could barely hold herself together in the face of Adam's sorrow. He wandered around like a wounded animal and it was all Joan could do to keep herself from running to him and telling him the truth. All that was stopping her was the knowledge that to tell the truth would be to risk forgiveness, which she could not allow.

She was so absorbed in her own sadness that she nearly fell over backwards when an old man in ridiculously high-waisted trousers, suspenders, and a green fedora stepped in front of her.

"He loves you, you know," he said, watching Adam walk off.

"Oh," said Joan, righting herself, "It's you."

"You don't sound happy to see me," said the old man cheerfully.

"Yeah, well," said Joan without much energy, "I can't seem to forget that time when you showed up and told me to dump the boy who may or may not love me but certainly doesn't like me very much anymore. Excuse me if I'm not so enthusiastic to see what's next."

"You're right to be apprehensive, Joan," said the old man, sitting beside her with a groan and a disconcerting popping noise. "Something terrible is coming."

"You said that before," said Joan, sounding tired, "and the worst thing that has happened is Mr. Nakamoto's math test. Although," Joan paused, considering, "that was pretty apocalyptic."

"You cannot afford to be flip about this, Joan." The old man's voice was terrible and a few people nearby turned their heads. Joan got an up-close and personal demonstration of "God fearing."

"Sorry," she managed to get out.

"Something terrible is coming," the old man repeated in a kindly tone, "something…dark. Something that will test you to what you think are your limits and beyond."

"What," asked Joan, carefully sarcastic, "like the end of the world?"
The old man simply raised an eyebrow.

"Whoa, hold on now!" Joan panicked, "I'm an AP Chem-taking, band joining, piano lesson doing, boatbuilding kind of instrument of God, not a saving-the-world kind."

"I remember you once asking for more important tasks."

"But the boat was important! I get that now. I like that scale of task. I can't save the world. I'm not the real Joan of Arc."

"You just need to realize your potential, Joan," said the old man, rising with another pop. Joan grimaced.

"Wait!" she called as he shuffled off, "What's coming?"

He waved to her over his shoulder.

Joan sat back on the wall with a thud.

"Great," she muttered. "Just fantastic. As if my life couldn't get any worse."

Just then, Luke walked up holding a sheet of paper.

"Joan, you forgot your math test." He handed her the paper marked with a large red F. Luke tried to be encouraging. "Better luck next time."

Joan looked up at the sky, now darkening with rain clouds. "You just had to take that as a challenge, didn't you!" she yelled.

Luke looked at her oddly for a moment but decided he'd rather not know. They headed home at a brisk pace, trying to make it inside before the storm.

chapter one

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