All this changed a few months ago in a fashion that I can only describe as miraculous. In an attempt to get out of myself I had enrolled in adult education classes in art history at a local college, where a series of visiting experts would come to give lectures on subjects as diverse as the techniques of the early European masters, and the place of art in shaping social attitudes. It happened that one evening in early November, an otherwise dreary and depressing day, the lecturer was a man in his early fifties, who I was immediately attracted to. Oh my, it is such a mysterious thing, attraction. Dr Anthony Alexander, Tony as he asked us to call him, was quite distinguished looking, just under six feet tall, with a neat little beard, and he had obviously taken good care of himself - or somebody else had, which is what I assumed at the start. His subject was the influence of Native American art on the modernist school, which I found fascinating, and when he suggested that those who. I thanked her for her time then left.I walked straight back to where mother was a determined look on my face. Walking in I sat facing her. "So," I started. "Where in the hell is pops? Last I knew the council was hunting the both of us."Mother stopped shocked slowly turning to face me. "You finally remember! Thank the great power!"I could only shake my head sadly, "some yes, though not very much. I remember how to heal, how to shield not much beyond that. In remember releasing you from pops, I..." I was suddenly struck silent as I remembered pops with two shadows around him. A look of horror came across my face as I whispered, "father!"Mother ran to me as huge tears started to fall from my face. How could I have forgotten about him! "It's alright Toman he knows. When you are ready you'll bring him back also."I flexed my power internally feeling a hell of a lot more power than I remembered having. I might have been strong before though now? My power now was like the strength of an.
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