Volonians: Mysteries of The Vondercrat

  Chapter Three

  The Shifting of Classes Ceremony

  As Varah, Shenzara and Broc arrive at the Isle of Waterfalls, a spectacular sight comes into view. Thundering, towering waterfalls surrounded them. As the family allows their eyes to move upward, they appreciate the majestic height of the falls-- each over one hundred feet tall. As their eyes follow the vertical splendor, they see that farther above them the sky is a mixture of various colors; some parts each of orange, red, green, blue, and purple. Through it all, Vamo is shining brightly, lending an iridescent hue to the entire picture. In the pool, where the falls release their waters, the view is so clear they can look down and see ten to twenty feet below. The pool is filled with a multitude of children of various ages, all enjoying what the island has to offer. The Cutters are amazed at the beauty around them.  “Mom, aren’t these children supposed to be at the Shifting? I thought we would be the only ones here,” asks Broc.

  Varah laughs, “No Broc, the Shifting is just for our sector. There is a different Shifting Ceremony for every sector.”  

  “Auduit Alexander must have prematurely advanced you, because that was covered when we shifted to class two,” Shenzara adds, disappointed in her brother for the question he has just asked.

  “Zara, let’s not make jokes; how about the time, you couldn’t name all the Lords and Lordesses? And the name you forgot was your own FATHER!”

  “I did not forget it! I didn’t think they wanted me to say my own father’s name. I mean, really?”

  “Stop it you two. We’re supposed to be having fun, and we only have a limited amount of time.”  

  “You’re right, Mom,” Shenzara says as she turns her attention away from Broc and his sticking-out tongue. “This place is more beautiful every time we come.”

  Varah looks at her daughter and says, “Shenzara, you haven’t been here since you were a child; of course it’s more beautiful. You’ve become more beautiful, and it’s a reflection of you. The Isle of Waterfalls is an enchanted place. The Guardians believe that every Volonian deserves to feel special, worthy and loved, and so as a gift from the Guardians, each Volonian receives an Omn when they are born.”

  “A what?” says Shenzara?

  Broc explains. “It’s a special place that every Volonian has, like a fortress, where they keep precious possessions like memories, harmonies, and special belongings. It’s a place where they can be reminded that no matter what’s going on in their life, they are loved.”

  “That is correct, Broc,” says Varah. “Someone has been listening to Auduit Alexander after all.”

  “Visch,” Shenzara whispers.

  “Mom! Did you hear her? She swore at me!” Broc points his finger at his sister and looks at his mother for vindication.

  “What did you say, Zara?” 

  “Nothing,” she says with scorn.

  “Be nice, Zara,” warns her mother. She looks at both of them and then continues. “All the waterfalls flow into the same abyss of water. It represents the uniqueness of us all, but it also shows our unity as well.

  “How do we find our Omn?” asks Broc. 

  Rather than answer, Varah smiles and replies, “How do you think?” Knowing there will be no answer from her children, she begins to chant. “VANDUCIO COMER VONDO VAMISH VARAH.” The waterfall in front of them parts down the center. “Hold my hands, you two,” Once they are all three standing together, Varah chants again. “VENYATI VISVERE.” Immediately the three are standing inside Varah’s Omn. “This is my Omn from the Guardians, my place of refuge, completely protected by them. No one can come here without my permission. The same goes for every Omn here. It is unlocked only by its owner.” Broc and Shenzara walk around their mother’s Omn, their mouths dropped open. It is a spacious place, the size of a small castle. Purple curtains hang in the living quarters to cover the massive window. The ceiling is made of glass, and the colorful sky is visible above.

  “Broc, come here!” Shenzara shouts. She is looking out a window, staring at herself ten cycles older. She sees her reflection morph into a fierce ball of fire. “Broc! Can you see me levitating?” Broc looks out through the same window, but all he can see is an expansive buffet of food, the table stretching as far as his eyes can see.

  “What are you talking about, Zara? All I see is food. Cakes, candies, pies, and Vandicups!” Broc licks his lips.

  “Mom? Why can’t Broc see me? I can’t see any food.”

  “This is the window of desire; you see whatever you desire. No two people see the same thing because they don’t desire the same.”  

  Broc turns to his mother, “Does this window produce smells too? What is that amazing aroma?”

  Varah forces a slight smile, “No those are the puffstries my mother used to make.

  “So you can relive old memories in this place, too?”

   “Yes. This place can be whatever you want it to be. You can program it to be whatever you desire as long as it brings a feeling of joy. No evil can reside in your Omn, because the Guardians protect it. Your Omn can play your favorite harmony, or better yet, your favorite entertainer can perform the harmony for you. It’s all an illusion, but it feels incredibly real. The catch is that you can only stay for a limited amount of time. This is a place of refuge, solitude and fun. It’s not meant to replace your current reality; it’s only meant to enhance it.”

  “I can’t wait to program my Omn,” Shenzara says dreamily.

  “She finally comes around to enjoying herself?”  Broc says sarcastically.

  “Well, we’re here; we might as well make the best of it,” she replies.

  Then Broc, at last warming up to the idea of enjoying the place with his sister, says, “Let’s jump in the water, Zara. Look at the other kids flying through the waterfalls. How much time do we have, Mom?”

  “Two and a half hours, so enjoy yourself! VAVENTI VOVEN!” The waterfall behind them opens again, ushering them out toward the multitudes of children and their joyful noises.

  Broc and Shenzara get a running start. “VAYENTI VUMRESS!” and they are immediately changed from their robes to their swimming attire, and they are flying through the waterfall.

  Varah is thrilled to see her children finally enjoying themselves, but she also is a bit unsettled about all that has happened within the last hour. She realizes that she can’t seem to relax. She pronounces the words,”VENYATI VOP,” and a Vop cast appears, suspended in midair. It is a magical device in the shape of a small sphere that sees into any place and time. She speaks into it. “Varah, Broc and Shenzara at the Shifting today.”

  “Data not available,” the sphere responds back to her. Puzzled at the response, Varah looks quizzically at the Vop cast. She realizes her mistake, nods her head, and speaks again. “Duplicates of Varah, Broc and Shenzara Cutter at the Shifting of Classes Ceremony today.”   

  Immediately the Vop cast shows the duplicates. She is astonished at how well they are performing their roles. Curious about how seamlessly they are interacting, she decides to watch them from the Isle while the kids have fun, just to make sure everything goes according to plan.

  “Attention. Attention. Witches and warlocks from 5th Sector of Volonia,” says Marion Buloya. “I need Class Ones to proceed to level one and all other classes to follow close behind.” The Vasquire, the hall where the Shifting of Classes Ceremony is held, is crowded with thousands of witches and warlocks trying to make their way to their designated lines to be able to proceed to their appropriate levels. The Cutter duplicates proceed down the congested hallway to collect their round table badges.

  Lola walks over and hands Marion a roster for the shifting ceremony, then exits. Varah’s duplicate is stopped by Marion. “VU VOSAY, Varah.”

  “VU VOSAY, Marion. I am here to pick up our round table badges.”

  Marion turns around and eyes the badges floating in the air behind her, her glasses nearly slipping off her nose. “Sorry Varah, I don't s
eem to have a badge for you,” she points out.

  “What do you mean I don’t have a badge?” 

  “I see my badge,” Broc’s duplicate pipes in as his badge separates itself from the multitude of others hovering in the air and floats toward him.

  “There's mine,” Shenzara’s double adds, and her badge floats over and easily attaches itself to her beautiful dress.

  “How can I not have a badge? I'm the ex-veil of a Lord!” protests Varah. 

  “Well Varah, I’m sorry to inform you, but the only way you can get to the round table is to be the current veil of a Lord or to be a child of one of the five Lords. Unless…. Unless a Lord personally adds you,” whispers Marion subtly to Varah.

  Seemingly from nowhere, a cloud of purple smoke appears. As the smoke dissipates, Olivia stands before them. She’s the same height as Varah. Her caramel skin glows, and her hair is pinned up with a few sleek tendrils falling alongside her face. She seductively struts over toward Varah, hugs her without actually embracing her, and, in a voice dripping with artifice, says, “It looks like my Roman forgot to add you to the list. I am ever so sorry.”

  Varah whispers, “I wouldn’t bet against me too quickly, Olivia.”

  Olivia, seeing Broc and Shenzara approaching, changes the subject. “VU VOSAY Broc, you’re looking as handsome as ever, just like your father.” Broc tries to keep from blushing. “And Shenzara, you look so pretty! That dress is absolutely lovely.”

  “Thanks,” Shenzara mumbles, trying not to show too much excitement in front of her mother.

  “Shall we be off to the round table, then?” says Olivia to Broc and Shenzara.

  Broc hesitates and asks, “What about Mom?”

  “Go on ahead,” says Varah.

  “Are you sure?” chimes in Olivia, attempting to sound truly concerned.

  “I'll be right behind you. I’m sure this is just a small mix-up. Marion will find the badge.”  Marion tries to nod her head, but she is completely flustered. Broc and Shenzara reluctantly follow Olivia to the table.  Varah notices her badge floating a few feet away. She snatches it out of midair. Varah Cutter, Guides Table 23. “Guides? Oh no!” A smirk flashes across her face before an idea comes to her. She smiles and then whispers, “VOS VAMUS VONDU,” and immediately before her hangs a badge with the words Varah Cutter, Class, Six, Round Table clearly printed on it. "Marion, I think I see my badge right over there.”

  Marion looks up in amazement and says, “Ms. Cutter, I am so sorry! I don’t know why I couldn’t find it. How could I have missed it? Please proceed to the round table, and please accept my sincerest apologies.”

  “Thank you,” Varah replies, with an air of icy confidence in her voice. Her badge magically attaches itself to her dress, and she begins her stately walk down the long corridor toward the round table. 

  Varah is in awe of the beauty in this corridor. The floors are transparent, so she looks down and sees other Volonians harmony shifting and enjoying the festivities on a lower level of the Vasquire. Around the hall, fifty-foot pillars spaced every five feet support the Vasquire’s lofty ceiling. Plastered in front of her on a mural are Volonia’s three ancient Guardians. She stops and curtsies in reverence. As she approaches the grand room, the harmonies grow louder, and she finds that the awkward discomfort of the past few minutes is quickly becoming a hazy memory. A one hundred-piece orchestra plays her favorite harmony, "Only". She hears the Polian solo-- her favorite part. A Polian is a popular Volonian instrument. As she pauses to enjoy the harmony, an incredible aroma of food begins to tease at her nostrils, drawing her further down the corridor and toward the magnificent double doors. She feels giddy, as though it is her first time at a Shifting. Two doormen, each one standing over six feet tall, bow and gracefully open the door for her. Upon entering, she notices her fellow Volonians partaking in the festivities. She admires the decorations arranged so elegantly. Many are harmony shifting; some are eating; others are laughing. All appear to be enjoying themselves enormously.

  “Mom!” Broc’s voice calls to her over the din. “Over here!” He motions her toward the round table were all the Lords’ families are seated.

  "Roman…" whispers Olivia, "how did she get through? I thought we discussed this.”

  Lord Roman, a bit taken aback, replies, "I assure you, Darling, I had no part in this. Varah is a Class Six, so she can meddle her way into many things.”

  “Play nice, my dear,” Olivia purrs in his ear while glaring disapprovingly at Varah.

  “Varah, dear, it is so wonderful to see you here.” Lordess Raven stands and gives her best friend a hug. She is a tall, slender woman, a few inches taller than Varah. Her beauty is exotic. Her skin is a soft, almond color and her long, wavy, brown hair is pinned up, an elegant departure from its normal arrangement of hanging loosely to her waist. “Your dress is spectacular; is it a Valadine original?”

  “Why yes, it is Lordess. You always informed on our latest fashions.”

  Lordess Raven smiles with approval. “Broc and Shenzara, are you two excited about shifting to Class Three? I heard you both passed your exams with exceptional scores!”

  “Thanks! We’re very excited. Mom really makes us study, and she does a great job at making sure we meet with our Auduit every day.”

  Broc nudges his sister. “Suck up.” He hisses at her.

  “I do my best,” she says, forcing a smile back.

  “Has the Kutler come to our table?” asks Varah.

  “I want Vandicups!” says Broc, licking his lips in anticipation.

  “We are about to place our request. VAYENTI VORDERTI,” pronounces Lord Vondell. Lord Vondell stands six foot one inch tall, with a handsome physique, slender like his veil, but clearly athletic. A veil is a female dedicated to a male suitor. His skin is a lighter shade of vanilla yet seems to be lit from within with a creamy undertone. He is a handsome, clean-shaven, immaculately dressed fellow, and his golden streak is centered perfectly in the middle of his head. Immediately, a short, pudgy fellow dressed all in white appears.  “How can I be of service, my Lord?” Says the Kutler.

  “We would like to order, please,” states Lord Vondell, speaking for the entire table.

  “Of course, my Lord. And what will you be selecting?” he asks, turning first to Head Lord Roman.

  “I will have the exotic asparus dipped in honey mane, drizzled with orange garlic crème and served alongside the glazed laru.”

  “Glazed laru?” interrupts Varah? “But I make the best glazed laru.”

  “Yours was the first I tasted, and it has been a favorite of mine ever since.” Varah responds with a half smile. As Lord Roman speaks his order to the Kutler, his food magically appeared on the Kutler’s platter.

  Eyeing the plates as they appear, Varah says, “I wonder though, does it taste as good as mine?”

  The Kutler serves Lord Roman his meal. Lord Roman takes a bite of his laru and savors it. “It tastes exactly like yours. One of the perks of being Class Eight is that your taste buds have auto-sensory memory. Your food always tastes as good as the best sample you’ve ever eaten.”

  Olivia, apparently annoyed, waves her hand above her glass, which begins filling itself with Vinyen. “Yes Darling, that is one of the many splendid things that come along with being Class Eight.”

  Varah’s smile nears contempt as she adds, “Looking forward to it.”

  “Quiet everyone; the ceremony is about to begin,” Lord Topher announces. Lord Topher is a chubby man, and his skin is fair and smooth. His round, plump face is supported directly by his shoulders. His eyes are almond-shaped. He is the most reserved of the five Lords.

  The lights dim in the Vasquire and the noise ceases abruptly. Everyone grows quiet in anticipation of the promised entertainment. Immediately, a voice seeming to come out of nowhere booms, “Ladies and gentlemen of Volonia, welcome to the Shifting of Classes Ceremony! I am Vanklin Vris, your host for this evening’s festivitie
s.”  The audience bursts into applause, with girlish screams punctuating the clapping as young ladies from all over Volonia squeal their approval of the handsome host.  “One of you lucky ladies will be serenaded by me. I love you all so much!”

  “How did you get Vanklin Vris?! He’s my favorite!” chirps Bara excitedly to her father. Bara is about five feet six, a Class Three with long, blond locks. She is extremely pretty.

  “Anything for my sweet daughter,” boasts Lord Vondell. 

  Shenzara turns to her own father.” Can we meet him, please? Please?”

  “I can do better than that.” Lord Roman claps his hands and Vanklin Vris is suddenly hosting the show from in front of their table.

  “This is incredible!” shrieks Shenzara. Broc, not at all excited, begins to yawn, prompting a smack on the head from Shenzara. “Don’t act like you weren’t humming his harmony just yesterday!”  

  “What can I say? It’s catchy.” He starts laughing. Bara glances at him, pushes one of her long golden locks behind her ear and smiles coyly. Broc blushes.

  Varah chimes in, “Impressive.” Lord Roman winks at her.

  Olivia, feeling left out, blinks her eyes repeatedly and spills Varah’s drink all over her. “Oh, Varah, are you okay?”

  “VENVATI VICUP,” Varah quickly utters, and the spilled beverage transports itself back into the glass. “Thanks, Olivia. Everything seems to be back in order now.”

  Olivia smiles, but their womanly stare-down is quickly broken by Vanklin Vris. “Guess what time it is?”

  The audience responds in unison, “What time?!”

  “Guess what time it is?!” Vanklin Vris repeats.

  “What time?” shouts the audience again.

  “It is time to harmony shift with that special someone.” Olivia grabs Roman’s hand and steers him directly to the harmony shifting floor through the quickly growing crowd.

  “I have been waiting for this all night,” sighs Olivia.

  Lord Roman smiles at his veil. “As have I.”  

  Varah stands and walks away from the Lord’s Table. “This is exactly why I detest these functions,” Varah whispers under her breath. “They don’t take into consideration the thousands of single Volonians out there.”

  The words are barely past her lips when a young, tall, dark-haired fellow approaches Varah. “Would you care to harmony shift?” Varah glances quickly at the man in front of her, from his impeccable hair to his well-shoed toe, taking particular notice of his muscular frame and his carefully crafted cheek bones.

  She is opening her lips to accept when she notices he does not have the Gold Volonian streak in his hair. She looks away as she says, “Thanks, but no thanks.”

  Undaunted, he leans down toward her turned-away face and persists, “Just because I have no streak doesn’t mean I can’t harmony shift.”

  Varah relinquishes a slight smile. “It’s not you; I just hate these things; they’re so uppity.”

  “Uppity? This coming from the lady who was sitting at the Lords’ table?”   

  Varah chuckles as she realizes the contradiction and tries to correct herself.  “I mean, everybody’s looking at me, and it doesn’t help that I’m single, my ex is a Lord and has a veil.”

  “They’re looking at you because you’re stunning, not because your ex is a Lord,” the young man says, his eyes sparkling.

  “You’re too kind,” replies Varah. “What is your name?”

  “I’m Kanali, from Sector Four.” 

  “Why are you here? You’re far from home,” replies Varah, growing more curious about this bold young man.”

  “I’m in charge of the Shifting of Classes Ceremonies next cycle for our sector, and I’m here gathering ideas.”

  “Well then, nice to meet you, Kanali. I’m Varah.”

  “I know,” coos Kanali.

  “How did you know?”

  He looks down at her dress, her badge still firmly attached. Varah laughs.  Kanali laughs along. “Well the playing harmony is almost over, so I guess my chance for that brief happiness is over too. Still, I hope I made your day a bit brighter.”

  “You did,” says Varah, “thank you.” Kanali smiles and then vanishes into the crowd of Volonians making their way back from the harmony shifting floor.

  Lordess Raven approaches Varah to ask, “How are you holding up, and who was that handsome stranger I saw you talking to?”

  “Some guy from the Fourth Sector asking me to harmony shift.”  

  “And you refused?”  

  “Yes, I did.”

  Lordess Raven grabs her hand, “You’re going to have to broaden your horizons, my dear.  I know you, and you deserve to be happy. And he doesn’t have to be Class Eight or a Lord to do that.”

  “I know,” sighs Varah. “I’ve still got work to do. I’m trying.”

  “I know. Now let’s get back to our table; the Shifting of the Classes is about to begin.”

  Varah shouts out, “Broc and Shenzara! It’s time to go!” 

  Not far off, the children come running. “Just a little more time? Please Mom?” begs Broc, leaping from his sleek, metallic water board. “Just five more minutes?”

  “Mom!” protests Shenzara. “We didn’t even program our Omns!”

  “We’ll have plenty of time for that later, my darlings. We must get back,” adds Varah playfully.  “Are you guys ready?” They shake their heads in dissent, but Varah nods her head and begins to chant. “VONDUCIO VAMUR DESTATIOM.” A thick, grey cloud of smoke appears and in a moment, a portal appears before them.  Varah and her offspring step in. The portal closes behind them, and within seconds they are stepping into the corridor of the Vasquire, not far from the round table. 

  “It is now time for the Shifting of Classes! Will all class ones kindly proceed to the portals closest to their designated areas,” directs Marion, appearing as a hologram in the center of the Vasquire.

  “Mom, you’re a genius! You got us back in time!” squeals Shenzara as she twirls in her new gown.

  “I know,” says Varah, tossing her hair with an air of confidence. “Now, I just have to find a way for us to switch places with our duplicates.”

  “What’s wrong, Mom?” asks Broc. “I don’t like how you said that last part.”

  “I forgot to get the spell from the Vondercrat that will switch us back.”

  “Can’t you just reverse the spell and replace us with them?” suggests Shenzara.

  “That won’t work. Vondercrat spells have to be undone with other Vondercrat spells. No spell from any class-- not even Class Eight-- can do that. I’ve got to go back and get the Vondercrat.”  

  “Mom, we don’t have enough time,” Shenzara says, trying to stay calm. “All the Class Ones have already gone through the portal and are in front of the Orb of Vamo that powers their change in classes. They are shifting now to Class Two, and we’re next.”

  The audience erupts into applause.  “Congratulations Class Ones,” Marion pronounces, “You are now Class Twos. You are now able to speak spells and move objects.”

  “Mom, hurry!” implores Broc.

  “Stay here. Don’t move! I will be right back!” Quickly, Varah chants “VENVATI VOME” and disappears. 

  Proudly surveying the next group of youngsters, Marion announces, “All Class Twos, kindly proceed to your nearest portal.” Broc and Shenzara see their duplicates get up to walk to their portals. The kids exchange worried looks, hoping their mother is going to be more impressive than ever.

  Arriving at her castle, Varah sees the Vondercrat lying on the floor where they left it. She grabs the humongous spell book and heaves its weight into her hands. She commands, “Vondercrat Open.” The book lies motionless in her hand. “What’s going on?” Varah questions. “These are the exact words Broc said!” Confused and angry, Varah yells, “VONDERCRAT OPEN! The book does not open. Varah begins to panic. She tries a few more times. “Vondercrat, Open! Op
en, Vondercrat! Please open for me, please,” but her efforts are to no avail; the book does not open.

  Varah grabs the book, shoves it into a large sack and heads back to the Shifting. “VENYATI VARRIVA,” and Varah stands back in the corridor of the Vasquire.

  “Mom!” Shenzara yells, “Hurry up! Did you bring the book?” feeling pressed for time, Shenzara grabs the book and heaves it out of the bag.  “Vondercrat Open.”

  The enormous book hurls itself into the air, opens its cover, and beams out the yellow, illuminating light. The ground begins to shake; pictures hanging on the wall begin to fall. A voice bellows, “Lords, what is your request?”

  Not far from the corridor, Lord Topher feels the ground trembling followed by a voice booming. Following the ruckus, he sees a yellow glow coming from around the corridor. Feeling endowed with the authority to investigate, he turns the corner and stares in disbelief at what he is seeing.  Broc, noticing the Lord’s intrusion on their secret doings, warns, “Mom, there’s Lord Topher! Get us out of here!”

  Lord Topher raises his voice so that it echoes down the corridor, ”VONDUCIO ACAMULT!”

  At the same instant, Varah shouts, “VENYATI!” but before Varah completes the spell, she, Broc and Shenzara are frozen in place. Lord Topher reaches up and touches the side of his neck, closing his eyes. In what seems like only seconds, the four other Lords are standing in the corridor. Lordess Semelia speaks first. She is the shortest of the Lords and has a light tone to her skin. Her fierce red hair is tucked safely under her crown, but she allows her beautiful streak to spill directly into her face, giving her the look of a caged fire. She says, “This better be important, Lord Topher, for you to have frozen time and halted the Shifting of Classes Ceremony!”

  Lord Topher reaches out his hands in a reassuring gesture and responds. “I think you will want to see this.” He leads them around the corner of the corridor.

  Lordess Semelia shouts in disbelief. “The… the… the Vondercrat! How in the world…?”

  After a moment of stunned silence Lord Vondell finds his voice and chants, “VENYATI VLOSE,” causing all the doors leading to the corridor to close at once. Then, “Who is behind this travesty? Lord Roman, did you aid her in this deception?”

  “I will not be framed with such accusations!” Lord Roman replies, sputtering in disbelief. “You know that I alone don’t have the power to conjure the Vondercrat!”

  “Calm Down!” intervenes Lordess Raven. “No need for accusing or placing blame here. We can discuss this at the House of Lords.”

  “How can this be?” How is she there with us at the round table and also here in the corridor?” gasps Lord Topher, completely puzzled.

  “The Duplication Spell,” whispers Lordess Semelia, entranced by the glow of the book.

  As if on cue, the book bellows again, “Lords, what is your request?” They all remain silent, unsure of what to say or do. Without receiving a response, the book falls to the floor, its glow dissipating.

  Lordess Raven resumes the conversation with, “That’s impossible. No Volonian has the power to cast that spell.”

  Lord Vondell follows with, “No Volonian has the power even to conjure the Vondercrat, yet here it is.” He cautiously lifts the gigantic book from the floor.

  Lord Roman turns to Lord Topher, “Please unfreeze all the Volonians, cancel the Shifting of Classes Ceremony until further notice, and have every Volonian report directly to their homes. Meet us at the House of Lords immediately after. We must consult with the Guardians. The rest of you, follow me. VONDUCIO VAN VOMITTAN.” All at once, the remaining Lords along with the Cutters vanish. Within seconds they are all reassembled in the House of Lords.