Gevura stared down at the single short sword laid out before her. It was
the length of a traditional Japanese wakizashi, but anyone with eyes could see that
this was more than just some cheap Asian knock-off. The shaft of the blade was a
pentagon, and a wicked blade had been grafted on each flat of the shaft. It gave
the blade the overall appearance of star. The shaft, blades and hilt were all made
of the same material. Gevura wasn't quite certain what it was... maybe some sort
of crystalline alloy, since it didn't look like any metal that she'd had ever seen
before. When Lady Avalon had opened the ornate box on the altar and removed
the relic, the sword had been glowing with a sort of golden radiance. Since
Gevura's return to Earth, the glow had grown fainter and fainter until now it
appeared all but gone. In its place, a sort of dull black color appeared to be
spreading through the blade.
She wasn't afraid of it. Oh, no. She wasn't afraid of anything-- especially
not some stupid oversized letter-opener. She was merely... wary of it. After all,
Lady Avalon had been too eager to hand the blade over, and that worried Gevura
a little. From what Gevura had heard, the Temple of Judgement should have been
reluctant to help _anyone_, let alone someone who had served their greatest
enemy for all of her life.
'The one whom your heart is filled with hatred for can only be harmed
with this, child,' Lady Avalon had told her.
'Why are you giving me this?' Gevura had asked.
'It is not your place to question His wishes,' Lady Avalon had replied.
'Content yourself with playing your role in his story.'
Now what had that meant? Was the bastard that she sought to kill setting
her up? Gevura shook her head. No time for these useless thoughts. Tiferet was
dead, Dawn was not going to do anything about it, and the monster had said that
she was next. Well, forget that! Someone was going to face the judgement, but it
wasn't going to be her.
The problem was finding the killer before he found her. She had to find
some way of putting the battle on her terms. So the, it seemed her next step was
clear. If anyone could make that bastard show his face in a second, it was the girl.
Find her and he wouldn't be too far off.
Gevura sheathed the sword at her hip and checked her gun. It was hunting
time.
*
Darkness: Children of the Phoenix
Four: All Things Broken I
by: Chandra Rooney
darkness@cloak-and-dagger.co.uk
*
Alan Stone looked up as Ethan slipped back into his spot at the table
inside the Oriental Gardens. "There you are," the professor remarked. He looked
around, but Ethan appeared to be alone. "Where's Tenkou?"
"She's talking to her boyfriend outside," Ethan replied, after a moment.
"Her boyfriend?" Stone repeated, stiffening. "Are you sure?"
"He's a boy and he seems to be her friend," Ethan replied.
"Oh," Stone replied. Could Zeller be outside? He debated questioning
Ethan further, but when he turned his attention back to the boy, Stone found that
Ethan was drawing in the water rings his glass had left on the table. "Say, Ethan,"
he began.
"Yes, sir?" Ethan asked, looking back up.
"I don't suppose you happened to hear what his name was," Stone
continued, as tactfully as he could.
"Whose name?" Ethan asked, looking generally confused.
"The fellow that Tenkou was talking to," Stone painted a smile on his
face, trying his best to be patient.
"Oh, him." Ethan shrugged, and went back to tracing symbols on the table.
No, of course not, Stone concluded. It had been a rather far-fetched idea,
to think that Ethan would have been attentive enough to pick up on such a detail.
There was a good chance that Tenkou hadn't even called this 'friend' by name.
"His name is Nathanael," Ethan said, without looking up.
Stone blinked, looking back at the teenage boy. "Nathanael?" He
searched his memory. Tenkou had never mentioned anyone by that name to him
before, but the name seemed familiar for some reason. After a few moments,
Stone recollected the reason. Viola had known someone named Nathanael. He
eased back in his chair. It had probably been a good ten years since he'd heard
that name. It wasn't a common one nowadays.
From the corner of his eye, Stone noticed Ethan finish playing in the
water. The small boy nodded to himself, seeming pleased with the design. As he
leaned back, Stone tried to make out what Ethan had drawn. It looked like a sort
of fancy sun symbol. Maybe it was a rock group or logo of some kind.
"Is it time for fortune cookies yet?" Ethan asked.
"No, Ethan, we don't get those until after we eat." A long moment of
silence passed, as Ethan seemed to be deep in contemplation. "Well," Stone said,
clearing his throat, "I hope Tenkou comes back soon."
"She's going to miss all the fun," Ethan agreed, an odd undertone to his
comment.
"What fun is that, Ethan?"
"You don't think fortune cookies are fun?" Ethan asked. "Don't you like
having your fortune told?"
"Fortune-telling is a lot of superstitious nonsense," Stone replied, gruffly.
"A generic phrase in a random cookie can't predict the future, Ethan."
"You shouldn't challenge the cookies, sir," Ethan warned him. "It's bad
luck to upset Fortune."
"Ethan," Stone began, patiently, "I hate to be the one who breaks the news
to you, but what's written on the slip of paper inside a fortune cookies has no
relevance to your life. Fortune telling-- of any kind-- isn't real, and Lady Luck
isn't going to be upset about that because she's just a fable."
Ethan gave him a very concerned look. "Now, you've done it, sir," he
said, sadly. "All that other stuff was forgivable because you didn't know better,
but you just had to go and call him a girl. He really, really, really _hates_ when
people do that. Hates it even more than when they say he doesn't exist."
Stone inspected the boy's face. Ethan had one of those looks of utter
conviction on his face. The same annoying expression that Stone had seen on the
face of that Zellar several times when the conversations in Japan turned to tales of
spirits or demons. In fact, Ethan's bone structure was very similar to Zellar's.
Now that he considered it, Ethan's build was also similar to Zellar's--
"That's what my mom always said," Ethan told him. "She always said
'Ethan, be nice to Fortune because he can make you very happy or very sad
depending on if he likes you or not'. Mom was very smart. She could make Dad
listen. Not many people can change Dad's mind about things, but Mom could
because he loved her lots and lots and lots."
"Your mother sounds very nice," Stone replied, having tuned Ethan's little
rant out after the first sentence.
"She's dead now," Ethan told him flatly, annoyed that he was being
ignored.
Stone's patronizing look vanished. "I'm very sorry to hear that," he said,
softly. "Tenkou's mother died when she was younger, as well."
Ethan didn't seem to know how to reply to that, and he just watched Stone
for a few moments. Then he brightened. "Can you eat with chopsticks?" he
asked, pleasantly.
Ah. Stone nodded to himself. So that was the cause of Ethan's flightiness,
grief issues. He recalled that Tenkou had been very disconnected from the world
for nearly a year after Viola's death. In fact, Tenkou still didn't like to discuss
what had happened. Or did she? When was the last time that the two of them had
actually spoken about Viola?
Stone looked back up to see Ethan wasn't at the table. Pushing back his
chair abruptly, he peered around the restaurant, trying to discover where Ethan
had wandered off to this time. Ethan's shoes were peeking out from inside one of
the Japanese-style private booth rooms along the far wall.
"That boy must be a real handful," Stone muttered, making his way
towards the booth. It sounded, at least to him, like Ethan's family didn't pay
enough attention to him. Ethan was probably not used to having any semblance
of order or routine in his life, which could explain why he seemed to have trouble
just 'staying put'.
"And are you having fun?" a voice asked from inside the room as Stone
approached.
"No," Ethan replied. "I should come live with Valentine."
The sounds of choking emitted from the booth. "I don't think so," another
voice said, and then coughed a few more times. "You'd better just stay with the
Stones."
"Awwwwwww..." the pout was evident in Ethan's tone.
"They wouldn't be very happy if you just disappeared after all the trouble
they've gone to," the first voice added.
"I know Prometheus," Ethan sighed. "But it's no fun at all here. I want to
go home."
"Nonsense," this 'Prometheus' replied. "You stay here and see this through
to the end, Ethan. I swore to your father that I was going to break you of this
habit of abandoning things half-way through, and I intend to keep that promise.
You're never going to be happy if you don't stay in one place long enough to find
out what's making you unhappy."
Stone knocked on the wooden frame of the booth above Ethan. The young
man started, eyes wide and turned quickly. Behind him, in the booth, sat a young
man of seventeen or eighteen dressed all in black. His spiky hair was jet black,
except for his fringe that had been died a deep crimson. Stone couldn't tell what
color the boy's eyes were as he was wearing sunglasses. The second figure was
older, probably mid-to-late twenties. His dark red hair was slightly longer than
Ethan's, and his brown eyes seemed to have a distinct golden-hue to them. He
was wearing a long green vest overtop of a cream-colored sweater and a pair of
brown trousers.
Stone recognized him immediately. It was the man who had walked off
with that strange purple-haired boy that Tenkou had been talking to at the Gala.
The man with the marking-- What was Ethan doing fraternizing with _him_?
"Ethan," and Stone identified him as the one Ethan had called
'Prometheus', "did you leave the table without telling anyone where you were
going?"
"I was going to be fast," Ethan protested, "but you have egg rolls. We
don't have egg rolls. We don't have any food at all. And _no_ fortune cookies."
Stone gave the man a cold look. "Ethan, come back to the table," he said,
quickly.
"I don't believe we've met," Prometheus began, "I'm Ethan's guidance
counselor, Prometheus Avalon."
"Prometheus," Stone repeated. "Yes. I see." He paused. A guidance
counselor? Was it possible that Ethan had become tangled up with this creature
without knowing? Much the same way that he had crossed paths with 'Zellar'? It
seemed reasonable. After all, to the untrained mind these strange beings could
pass easily enough for human. Ethan certainly wouldn't have been coherent
enough to have noticed even if Prometheus had said or done something to give
himself away. "Prometheus Avalon," Stone muttered aloud, as he filed the name
away for later. He'd ask Binah about it as soon as he could. "That's a rather--
unusual name," he remarked.
"You must be a member of Ethan's host family," Prometheus replied,
ignoring the slight. "I hope he hasn't caused you too much trouble."
"I'm not trouble," Ethan told Prometheus. "I'm good. It's not me who
causes all the trouble, it's--" he stopped, and then pointed to the young man
dressed all in black. "That's Valentine, Professor. He's in my class. He's
Prometheus' son." Ethan jerked his head at Stone. "This is Mr. Professor Stone,
Valentine."
"Valentine?" Stone muttered. That seemed a cruel fate, naming one's
child something so utterly ridiculous.
"Unusual names run in our family," Valentine remarked, noting the
expression on Stone's face. Without turning, he smacked at Ethan's reaching
fingers. "Don't touch that wonton, kid," he warned.
Stone frowned. "What were you doing at the Morningstar Foundation's
Gala?" he asked, Prometheus.
"Oh?" Prometheus asked, sounding a little surprised. He paused, tapping
his chin. "No, wait, I remember you now. Not that it is any of your concern, but I
was attending to some business."
"You're a guidance councilor, you say?" Stone prompted. "Someone
needed urgent career choice information?"
Prometheus smiled, tensely. "The young artist that the Foundation had
sponsored was awarded a full scholarship to study at the Shining Light
Academy," he explained. "In fact, I believe that she may even share one of her
classes with Ethan." He looked back at the small blond boy. "You did remember
to go to the Open Studio block today, didn't you?"
"I got lost," Ethan lamented, "and they sent me to the wrong room, and a
very _mean_ teacher yelled at me--"
"I found him, and we eventually made it there," Valentine interrupted.
"With help from Matt--"
"The teacher who came looking for us," Valentine cut him off again.
"We'll meet at lunchtime tomorrow, Dad, and I'll take Ethan to class. No
worries."
"We have to go back to school tomorrow?" Ethan wailed, looking stunned.
"You have got to be joking."
As Valentine leaned over to whisper something to Ethan, which did little
to erase the unimpressed look from the boy's dark green eyes, Prometheus turned
back to Stone. "Are you one of the Foundation members?" he asked the
Professor, politely. "I'm afraid your name just isn't ringing any bells."
Stone bristled. "I'm newly appointed chair of the Archeology
Department," he replied. "Co-chair of the Anthropology Department."
"Oh, you're Ms. Binah's new assistant?" Prometheus asked.
"Congratulations, I suppose. I should warn you that there are several long-term
members who would kill for that position."
"Look, there's food at our table now!" Ethan cheered, preventing Stone
from having an opportunity to respond.
"So go eat it," Valentine told him, giving him a push towards the door.
"And think about what I told you."
"Okay. Bai bai, Prometheus! See you tomorrow, Valentine," Ethan
chorused cheerfully and then bounded out of the booth.
Stone remained behind with his eyes fixed on Prometheus. The red-haired
man wiped at his mouth with a napkin and then raised his eyes back to Stone. "Is
there something I can do for you, Professor Stone?" he asked, politely, but Stone
could pick out the distinct sound of annoyance in the man's tone.
"No, no," Stone replied, shaking his head. "I'm sorry that Ethan
interrupted you."
The ice in Prometheus' eyes melted just a little. "Ethan is never an
interruption," he replied. "Take good care of him, Professor Stone. He's a very
special child."
"He's a headache and a handful," Valentine added, winking at Stone, "but
it looks like you're stuck with him."
"Oh, one last thing, Professor," Prometheus added, "It's not a very wise
idea for Ethan to be too long without supervision. He has a tendency to wander
off."
Stone jerked his head around, looking over his shoulder to see if Ethan had
actually gone back to the table. "Yes, I've noticed," he told Prometheus. "I must
be going now. Can't have him wandering off again."
" It was a pleasure to meet you, Professor," Prometheus told him, smiling
tightly. "You must excuse me if I don't stand, but the ceilings in these booths are
dreadfully low."
Stone returned the strained expression and refrained from pointing out that
the ceiling was easily six feet from the bench. Instead, he stepped back and slid
the door shut.
*
Hikaru moved through the streets like a shadow. People and buildings
streamed past him on either side, but he saw none of them. Inside, he felt as
chilled as the night air pressing against his wet cheeks. Wiping at his eyes, he
wondered what he was supposed to do now. Sometimes he really did envy
humans with their self-delusions and altered versions of reality. It must be nice to
be able to keep secrets from yourself. "Hell's Bells," he muttered, pushing his
hands through his hair. "I do not need this right now."
"Need what?"
Hikaru looked up to see Hope looking back at him. The younger Hihane's
deep sapphire blue eyes were intently focused on Hikaru, and any other being
would have probably felt more than a little overwhelmed by attention. Hope was
going to have to learn to turn down the intensity or the first non-family interaction
he had was going to result in the other person being reduced to a pile of mush at
his feet.
"There you are," Hikaru replied, ignoring the question and quickly pulling
himself together. "You really think you should be wandering around by yourself
after you nearly fell off a balcony only a few hours ago?"
"Oh, I'm much better now," Hope assured him, white-gold hair bouncing
as he nodded. "I just got dizzy while talking to Mattaeo." He watched Hikaru for
a moment. "What don't you need?" he prompted, finally.
"I don't need you wandering around lost," Hikaru replied. "Imagine the
trouble it would cause if one of Dawn's hired fangs saw you." He felt the feathery
touch brush his mind. "I believe I've asked you not to do that," he told Hope.
"What did you and Mattaeo fight about?"
"It wasn't a fight," Hikaru replied. "It was a disagreement."
"It's different for him," Hope began, thoughtfully. "He has no idea what
the future holds for him. He has to put his faith in someone other than himself--
and I think that frightens him. It means he has to trust someone other than
himself, and Twilight's never been able to do that. Especially not after what
happened to Diana." Hope paused. "You, however, do know what's going to
happen to him. That's not easy for him to understand or accept. Do you
understand?"
Hikaru blinked. He looked at Hope critically, noting the distinctly violet
tint the other's eyes had gained. "Judgement," he began, carefully, "you really
aren't supposed to be piggy-backing--"
Hope smiled, putting a finger against his lips. "It'll be our secret," he
winked. "I was in the neighborhood. It'll be the last time."
Hikaru sighed, rubbing his forehead. "I don't suppose you'd like to tell me
what's gone wrong with Yamato?" he asked.
"Nothing that can't be fixed," he replied. "I'm working on it. Look, I
know you don't fight with your father very often, but try not to get so upset over
this. Mattaeo is scared-- wouldn't you be in his position?"
"I don't understand why he's so scared," Hikaru complained. "He's known
that it would come to this."
Hope sighed. "As much as it pains me to say this," he began, a sour look
on his, "the only person that Mattaeo has trusted since the death of your mother is
Nathanael. Nathanael is smart-- too bloody smart for his own good. He's figured
out what's going on. He's also a coward."
"A coward?" Hikaru repeated, blinking.
"Only a coward would find such difficulty in seeing things through to the
end." A pause. "All right then, I'm off. Keep Yamato here for a few minutes," he
added. "I need to finish extending an invitation to our other guest." Hope
blinked, eyes returning to their dark blue color. He looked at Hikaru. "I'm sorry,
I must have spaced out for a moment," he looked sheepish. "What were you
saying?"
Hikaru pushed his warring emotions aside. He gave his son a slightly
strained smile. It wasn't easy for him to make his face say one thing when his
heart was saying something else, but he'd spent a couple centuries perfecting the
mask. "I was asking you what it was like to be Judgement," he replied, finally.
"I don't understand," Hope replied, giving Hikaru a confused look.
"Shouldn't you ask Yamato that?"
Hikaru sighed and his mask slipped. "Not that again," he muttered.
"It's like being me," Hope replied, after a moment. "Only the job tends to
get messier." He stuck his hands in his trouser pockets. "Judgement said he liked
being Yamato best, but he'll be happiest when he can be himself again." He
paused. "He also said that sometimes he has to be Nathanael, because Nathanael
will cause trouble if he lets him. What does he mean by that, Hikaru? I thought
he was Nathanael."
"That's what Nathanael and Mattaeo want people to think," Hikaru replied,
sighing. "It's just easier that way."
"But it's not true?" Hikaru shook his head. Hope frowned. "If you knew,
why didn't you say anything?" he asked.
"That's complicated." Hikaru gestured to a cement foundation ledge
behind them. The tall glass and metal structure of the library/art gallery rose
above it. "Come, sit," he suggested. "Let's talk." Hope nodded, and the two of
them walked the few steps back to where a cement ledge sat raised above the
redbrick sidewalk. They sat, and Hope's chin tipped back as he looked up
through the light-strung branches of the trees along the street and the roofs to see
the stars above them. "Yamato," Hikaru began.
"Hope," Hope corrected.
"Yamato," Hikaru repeated, giving Hope a stern look. "I know that you
care deeply for Tenkou."
"She's not my Tenkou," Hope told him. "My Tenkou is in the Garden--"
"She is _your_, Tenkou," Hikaru snapped. "Damnit, Yamato, I'm not
going to let you keep shrugging off your life. Now, I know you care deeply for
Tenkou. I also know that you never told her that, and I know why you didn't tell
her."
"Because Yamato died," Hope said, very quietly.
"Because you're scared," Hikaru corrected. "You have to stop being
afraid. Just suck it up and tell her. If you don't, Nathanael wins."
"Wins what?" Hope asked, looking confused.
Hikaru sighed. "Judgement and Nathanael do not like each other," he
explained. "I'm not about to go into the reasons-- that's his responsibility. All
you need to know is that the two of them have been fighting each other for over a
thousand years. When you agreed to be a Candidate, you became caught in the
middle. Nathanael won't hurt Mattaeo-- he cares about him too much, but he's not
above using you to get to Judgement."
"But Nathanael's been kind to me," Hope protested. "He took care of me
while I was.... sick."
"Nathanael is the one who wanted to take you to Eden in the first place,"
Hikaru replied. "Leaving Earth is what made you 'sick', Yamato."
"But I'm back here now," Hope reminded him. "I'm stronger."
"You've still got a few weak spots. One of them happens to be Tenkou."
Hope's eyes widened. "Nathanael would hurt Tenkou?"
"He already has," Hikaru sighed. "He's playing with her, Yamato, because
he knows breaking her heart is the surest way to hurt you."
"Why would Mattaeo let that happen?" Hope asked, looking disturbed by
the news. "He cares about Tenkou." He frowned. "Mattaeo doesn't know what
you know. You haven't told him."
"He doesn't want to know."
"Why not? If he cares about Tenkou then he should know."
"Because," Hikaru sighed, "if Mattaeo admits to himself what Nathanael is
doing, then he has to admit everything that Nathanael has done. I don't think he
could do that and still love him."
"Why not?" Hope pushed. "What could Nathanael have possibly done
that's so bad?"
"You really don't know?" Hikaru studied the younger man's expression.
"Yamato, Nathanael is the one who killed Judgement."
*
After Professor Stone left, Valentine lasted exactly seven seconds before
he cracked up laughing. "What was that all about?" he asked. "Or are you like
that to all humans?"
"I take it I seemed arrogant enough to not warrant another visit from
Professor Stone," Prometheus replied.
"You were a pompous ass to him, Dad," Valentine snorted.
"Well, I did have to distract him from dwelling on his memories,"
Prometheus replied. "Or he would have suspected when they began to change."
Valentine shook his head, looking at the slit between where the door panel
met the sill. "I really don't think it's a wise idea to leave Ethanael with him," he
remarked. "That guy is exactly the type of person that Ethanael could wrap
around his finger with no problem at all."
"Ethanael is safest with someone who will never think to question his
identity," Prometheus reminded him. "And I doubt that Tenkou will let him get
away with a great deal." He sat back from the table. "Hurry and finish up. We'll
have to leave soon if we don't want to be late for the meeting."
"Meeting?" Valentine blinked. "What meeting?"
"We have to greet the representative the Temple of Judgement has sent to
assist with the preparations."
Valentine's eyes widened. "Grandma is coming here?"
"Not likely," Prometheus snorted. "You know as well as I do the reason
why Morgan refuses to leave the Temple."
"Hasn't it been like over a thousand years?" Valentine asked. Prometheus
nodded. "And she's still waiting for him?"
Prometheus reached for his glass of water. "Hope is an amazing thing,
Valentine," he remarked. "Fortunes can change, truths can be quieted or revealed,
and Judgement himself can be swayed." He took a sip of water, eyes far off.
"Hope is all she has left."
"Do you think grandfather is ever coming back?" Valentine asked.
"No," Prometheus replied, flatly. "I accepted a long time ago that he was
not coming back. I'd have more luck wishing for Rianna's return."
"Who's Rianna?" Valentine asked, taking a bite out of his egg roll.
"She's..." Prometheus looked away. "She's no one. Just a woman I knew a
long time ago. Eat up. The priest we're meeting doesn't like to be kept waiting."
*
Tenkou found herself alone in the alley behind the Chinese Food
restaurant, with Nathanael nowhere to be seen. Turning, she saw that someone
else was there. She'd seen her share of 'pretty boys' since meeting Yamato, so it
was probably safe to bet that it was a young man seated upon the closed dumpster.
Since he was sitting and slightly higher than she was, it was difficult to guess how
tall he may have been. Tenkou noticed his dark eyes, a devastatingly beautiful
deep emerald green-- the same sort of impossible true color as Ethanael's. The
boy's hair was fashionably disheveled, cut in various layers to his chin. It was
various shades of blond, from gold to platinum expect for about five centimeters
of root showing that appeared to be a deep black-violet. Tenkou's eyes swept past
his disarming smile to the golden feathered wings comfortably half-folded against
his back. Ethereal violet flames danced along the feathers, casting shadows over
the boy and Tenkou.
"You're looking at me like you've never seen a phoenix before," he
remarked, leaning forward with his hands on his knees so that he could peer down
at her.
"What just--" she turned, looking around. "Where did Nathanael go?"
"He's... away for the moment. You and I need to talk."
"And you are?"
"You may call me 'Evarrin' if you like," he extended a hand down towards
her. She attempted to take it, but found that her fingers passed right through his.
"Oops. I should have mentioned that I'm not exactly solid."
"Then how are you sitting on something?" Tenkou asked.
He sighed. "This was so much easier with Yamato," he muttered. "Back
then you didn't have to explain everything." He patted the dumpster lid beside
him. "Hop on up. I'd offer a hand but--"
"It wouldn't do much good," Tenkou put her hands on her hips.
"Well, it _could_, but that would mean using slightly more force of will
than I should if I want to keep from being noticed," Evarrin replied,
apologetically. "My just being here is going to upset enough people as it is."
Tenkou walked over to the side and stepped on a garbage can next to the
dumpster. It was no problem to step up onto the closed dumpster after that.
Eyeing the lid, she wondered if it really was a good idea to sit down. Evarrin
gave it a couple quick swings with one of his wings that seemed, despite their
being ethereal, to manage to sweep the spot clean.
"You know, you're being relatively calm about this," he remarked as she
sat down.
"I gave up being unnerved by strange things after I was kidnapped by
Yasha," Tenkou replied, flatly. "There really doesn't seem any point to being
surprised anymore."
"Oh?" Evarrin shrugged. "Me, I like to keep an open mind, but to each
her own." He paused, watching as someone gave them a suspicious look. "What?
You've never seen two people talking on their break?" he called.
The person frowned, then just shook their head and climbed into their car.
"Other people can see you?" Tenkou asked.
"Oh, they see someone," Evarrin replied. "But I'd doubt it's me. You have
to know what to look for to see _me_." He paused. "But you're really not in the
mood for this right now. I get that."
"What did you want to talk about?" Tenkou asked, sighing.
"Yamato. Pretty cold how easily you could just cast him off."
Tenkou felt a flare of anger. "Look," she began, hotly, "I don't who you
are--"
"I'm Judgement," he replied simply, as if it was the most obvious thing in
the world.
Tenkou stopped. "Nathanael is Judgement," she told him.
Evarrin shook his head. "No. No, he's not." He put his chin in his hand
and rested his elbow on his knee as he half-turned too look at her. "Nathanael just
wishes he had Judgement's power."
"What?" Tenkou blinked. "You're not making sense."
He stretched his arms out behind his head. "It is a very long story," he
replied. He stopped stretching and let his hands fall back down to his lap. "Did
you want me to tell it?"
Briefly, the possibility that he was patronizing her flitted through her
mind. She cast the suspicion away. "I'd like it if someone would help me
understand what's going on," Tenkou replied. "What happened to Yamato,
Evarrin?"
Evarrin put his chin in his hands again. It made him look like Ethan
somehow. "Do you like Yamato?" he asked, with the same sort of simplicity that
she had heard echo through Ethanael's tone.
"I-- what sort of question is that?" Tenkou asked him, feeling her cheeks
burn.
"Do you love him?" he pressed.
"I--" Tenkou shook her head. "You didn't answer my question."
"Sorry. What are you asking exactly?"
"Is Yamato dead?"
He laughed, a musical sound so filled with warmth and good humor that
Tenkou felt almost inspired to join in. "Don't be silly," Evarrin replied. "I
wouldn't do that to him-- or you for that matter. How cruel do you think I am?"
Tenkou gave him a critical look. Maybe it was Ethanael, playing some
sort of game with her again.
Evarrin rubbed the back of his neck, a sheepish look on his face. "On
second thought, let me retract that question about cruelty." He frowned for a
moment, tapping the fingers of his hand closest to her on the lid of the dumpster.
"To answer your question about Yamato," he began, slowly, "means that I have to
tell a few things that you really shouldn't know. Knowledge is power, Tenkou,
and this knowledge is something that a lot of people would kill for." He paused.
"But chances are that someone who'd be willing to already thinks that you know."
He looked at her for a moment. "It's your choice. It's always a choice."
Tenkou sighed. "I don't understand how it can be so hard. It's a simple
yes or no question," she protested. "Either he's dead or he's not dead."
"Death is a part of life," Evarrin remarked, "and nothing about life is a
simple yes or no question. Life exists in those shades of gray between the black
and white of death and rebirth--" he made a face, "and I'm lecturing you. Sorry.
Look, about Yamato, if you want to know if he's dead then you have to come to
understand who he was. To do that, you have to understand what I am. It's a
story I'm willing to share with you, but it'll take some telling."
"My father is definitely going to notice me having been gone this long,"
Tenkou reminded him. He smiled a little. She knew _that_ smile. "Let me
guess, you're about to say something like 'time works differently for me'?"
"Don't have to now, you already said it for me," he grinned. "Don't worry
about your father, I can fix it so that you weren't gone that long." He pushed off
the dumpster, landing on the ground easily and turning back to face her. "If
you're willing, then take my hand," he instructed, reaching out a hand. A soft
tinkling, like glass knocking together, filled the alley.
Tenkou noticed Evarrin was wearing about six of those Buddhist charm
bracelets on his forearm. She'd seen ones like them for sale at the Shrines in
Japan. "I can't," she reminded him. "You're not exactly solid, remember?"
"Only if you don't want to come," he replied. "I happen to think you're
worth the trouble."
"I thought you said that you didn't want to be noticed," Tenkou remarked,
looking down at his hand.
"I don't," he agreed. "But we won't be staying here."
"Where would we go instead?"
"Somewhere safe. Somewhere secret." He turned his emerald-green eyes
on her. "Do you trust me, Tenkou Stone?"
Well, that was an easy question. She reached out her hand. His fingers
closed over her own, warm and solid. The scent of cinnamon filled the air and
then the world vanished.
*
Mattaeo turned at the sound of the door opening. "Hikaru?" he called,
hopefully.
"No," Nathanael replied, flatly. He shut the door behind him and then
looked at Mattaeo. "I'm going back to Eden," he announced. "This place is doing
things to my head."
"Going back?" Mattaeo repeated. "But... but... we can't just leave with
things the way they are. It's not been sorted out."
"Then you sort it out," Nathanael told him, darkly. "I'm going back to
Eden."
"What of Ethanael?"
"He's not _my_ problem. Let his father deal with him." Mattaeo's mouth
dropped open in shock. "I know when bad things are coming," Nathanael
continued. "I'm going back to Eden before all hell breaks loose here. I'd ask you
to come with me, but that's not an option for you, is it?"
Mattaeo gripped the back of the couch, visibly shaking. "Why are you
being like this?" he asked. "You've been miserable to me since we came here.
What did I do to you?"
"Nothing," Nathanael snapped. "Your brother wants to wake up."
"No," Mattaeo whispered, shaking his head. "No, not yet. Please, not
yet."
"The end is coming to this world," Nathanael told him. "I don't intend to
be here when he arrives. Goodbye, Mattaeo."
"Nathanael, wait," Mattaeo protested, moving quickly and seizing the
other by the hand. "Are you telling me that the past three hundred years don't
mean anything to you?" he asked, water brimming at the edges of his eyes.
Nathanael's resolve wavered. "They were the best of my life, Taeo," he
said, softly. "But you're changing. I can feel it. How long before you're no
longer my Mattaeo?"
Mattaeo's head hung. "I... I can fight it," he whispered. "I'll fight it to the
end!" he said, defiantly raising his eyes to meet Nathanael's. "So long as you're
with me, I have no reason stop fighting."
"It's a fight you can't win," Nathanael replied, taking him by the shoulders.
"You can't change what you are, Taeo. None of us can."
"I don't want you to go," Mattaeo protested.
"Mattaeo, he'll be here before the week is over. It could even be as early
as tomorrow morning."
"Then just stay tonight," Mattaeo pleaded. "One last night. So we can say
goodbye properly."
Nathanael looked at the tears beginning to spill from Mattaeo's eyes and
sighed. He reached up and brushed the hair back from Mattaeo's face, then did he
best to wipe away the tears. "Until the morning," he conceded. "But as soon as
dawn comes, I'm leaving for Eden. All right?" Mattaeo nodded, tears welling up
again. Nathanael sighed and pulled the smaller man into his arms. He held him,
as Mattaeo cried for both of them.
*
Ethan jerked up straight in his chair, his fork clattering to the table. Stone
looked up from contemplating his sweet and sour pork. "I have to go-- to the
bathroom," Ethan told him. "Excuse me from the table please and thank you."
He threw his napkin on the tabletop and bolted from his chair before Stone could
even acknowledge having heard him.
Racing past the bathroom, which was conveniently located near the
entrance, Ethan pushed out into the street. After taking a few minutes to find
what he was looking for, he hurried for the crosswalk at the end of the block. The
hulking glass and steel structure of the library loomed from across the road, and
Ethan could see the person he was looking for seated along the cement foundation
ledge on the building's side that faced the coffee shop. He ran across the street,
ignoring the red hand flashing.
A motorist honked his horn, and brakes screeched as he miraculously
avoided hitting the boy. He glared at the kid's hair. The ridiculous purple and
white dye job said it all now, didn't it? "Stupid pot-smoking skateboarder punk,"
the driver swore, through his open window. "Watch where you're going, you
stoned freak!"
Ethan turned around long enough to give the man the two-fingered salute
that Valentine was so fond of, and then continued on his way. He passed the
wheel-chair ramp and skidded to a halt. Backtracking, he reached the two seated
figures on the ledge beside the ramp. "Dad's coming back!" he exclaimed to the
mulberry-eyed figure, his grin threatening to crack his face. "Not just play back
but really back and it'll really be him!"
"Yes, Ethanael, I know," Hikaru said, calmly. "Thank you, but shouldn't
you be with Tenkou?"
"Dad's with Tenkou," Ethan waved his hand. He looked at Yamato.
"Everything's going to be all right now, because Dad is going to come back and
_fix_ all the things that got broke. Not that you weren't doing a good job of fixing
things, but you got broke, too and--"
"Where are Nathanael and Tenkou?" Hikaru asked.
"No, no, no," Ethan spun back on him. "You don't listen very well.
_Dad_ is with Tenkou. I don't know where Nathanael is. Maybe he's dead,
wouldn't that be nice?" He turned to Yamato. "You're not sad like Hikaru about
Dad coming back are you? Hikaru and Uncle Mattaeo get very silly when you
talk about Dad because they're scared of him. But I know you're not scared of
him because you've been him. You're Hope right? Can I call you Yamato,
please? I'm Ethan though sometimes I'm Ethanael, but right now I'm both and it's
sorta confusing, but it feels right, too. I think it is going all right because I know
that Dad is coming back and so I have to be good and get all not-broken for him
because he'll want to see me because he misses me lots and lots and--" he broke
off, sucking in a huge breath. Hope smiled warmly. "I'm sorry that I made your
head go all fuzzy. My head goes fuzzy a lot. It's like there's cotton candy inside
and it gets hard to think."
"That's all right, Ethan," Hope told him.
"Wait, why is Judgement with Tenkou?" Hikaru asked, trying to refocus
Ethan's attention. He shot a look at Hope. "Is that who he took to the temple?"
Ethan nodded vigorously. "Yes, yes, yes. Babylon Temple. Maybe we
should go there too? So we can be there when he wakes up. He'd like that,
Hikaru."
Hikaru put a hand on Ethan's shoulder. "No," he said. "You Know Who
is going to notice if all three of us suddenly take off."
Ethan pouted. "Can I go then? I wanna go."
"You may, if--" Hikaru held up a hand.
"If?" Ethan asked, hanging on the word.
"If you take Yamato with you."
"That's a very good idea," Ethan agreed. "Then Dad can fix you," he
explained to Hope. "You'll never know you were broken."
"Be careful," Hope warned, "don't draw too much attention to yourself,
Ethanael-- and be nice to Lady Avalon."
"She's not nice to me," Ethan retorted.
"Will you be all right?" Hope asked Hikaru.
"Now you're worrying about me?" Hikaru asked him, raising a pale
silvery-blue eyebrow. "Go on, go," he shooed them away.
"You won't get in trouble?"
"Not if I stay here," Hikaru replied. He shrugged helplessly. "You'll
probably be back by morning. I can stall anyone who comes asking questions
until then."
"Thanks," Ethan told Hikaru, taking Hope by the sleeve. "Let's go. Come
this way with me. I know where to find one of the shifty places."
"Safe journey," Hikaru told them, waving.
"Thank you," Hope relented to Ethan's tugging at his arm and allowed the
smaller boy to lead him away. "See you tomorrow," he called, as Ethan pulled
him through the parking lot and around the back side of the building.
*
The angel materialized beneath the trees of the downtown park, much to
the shock of one of the man sitting on the bench a few feet away. The old
drunkard rubbed at his eyes, blinking a few times as the young man approached
him. The figure had ruby-colored eyes and soft silver-gray hair. He was wearing
a long gray coat and red gloves. The wings-- grey feather between red frames
complete with lethal looking talons-- had been folded behind the angel's back, and
then they simply were no longer there. Sounds of metal clinking on metal came
from beneath the coat, as the angel approached the bench. Craddled in his arms
was a wooden box, clutched to his chest like some sacred treasure. "Excuse me,"
he said, perfect English around a thick accent-- perhaps Celtic. "But could you be
so kind as to direct me towards the Oriental Gardens restaurant?"
"Uh..." the dunk swallowed back the taste of the gin in his mouth. "You
follow the road up and then turn right onto Victoria. It's a few blocks that way--
but if you reach Sixth Avenue, you've gone too far."
"On the five hundred block of Victoria," the angel concluded. "Thank
you, Sir, you've been most helpful." He smiled, a very sweet sort of smile, and
then began to walk away. He took a few steps before turning back. "You
shouldn't drink, Sir," he warned, "it's not good for your liver."
The older man watched the angel go, then raised the paper-bag wrapped
bottle to his lips. Yelping and spluttering, he threw the bottle to the ground and
spat the heated gin from his mouth. Looking down at the steaming liquid, he
blinked and rubbed his eyes. The man turned, looking for the boy in the gray
coat, but the 'angel' was nowhere to be seen.
*
Katy yawned and continued channel surfing. Despite the fact that the
cable package contained more than one hundred and fifty options, there was
nothing on that interested in her in the least. Looking around her empty rented
flat, she sighed. Sometimes, it was enough to make her want to just go home.
She clicked off the TV and stood, stretching. It turned out that Matt was
just a floor above her in the complex, which was a nice surprise. Katy hadn't seen
very many of her 'neighbors', but from what she could tell they all came and went-
- loudly-- late at night.
The knock on her door jarred her from her thoughts, and she walked
towards the entrance. The peephole didn't help, since even on her tiptoes it was
too high in the door for her to see through. "Who is it?" she asked, hand on the
chain.
"I'm from down the hall," the smooth voice on the other side of the door
said. "I'd like to borrow some sugar."
"Oh, I'm not sure if I have any," Katy replied, unlatching the door and
pulling it open. "But I can go and have a look--" she stopped, staring up at the
man on the other side of the door. She started at his knee-high black leather
boots, continued up his tight and very shiny leather trousers, and raised her
eyebrow at the white choir robe open over his chest.
His cherry-red glossed lips turned up into an oily smile. "Hello there, my
dear," the man said, pushing the lock of red hair from his face.
"Er... hello," she replied.
"You gave me quite a lot of trouble when you ran off like that," he
continued.
"When I..." Katy trailed off. "I think you've mistaken for someone else."
The man reached forward and lifted the braid she'd put in her hair. On the
end of it dangled a golden feather, and in the man's grasp it began to burn with an
orange flame. "Oh!" Katy started, eyes widening at the feather.
"Indeed," the man replied, seizing her by the arm. "You're caught, pretty
little phoenix, and now you're going to come home. You should have hid that
feather better."
"You've made a mistake," Katy protested, "Someone gave me the feather--
it was a gift--"
The man grabbed her other wrist. "Now, now," he warned, "if you don't
make a scene, then I won't have to get violent." Katy screamed. The man
scowled and hit her. "Stop that," he hissed.
"Let go of me!" Katy yelled. "Someone help me!"
"No one in this building is going to," the man told her, menacingly. "They
know not to interfere with our affairs."
"Hey, what's going on?" a musical voice asked, as one of the doors down
the hall opened and someone stepped outside.
"Nothing to worry about," the man called.
"Help!" Katy screamed at the figure. "This guy is attacking me!"
"Oh, I most certainly am not," the man protested. His hand snaked
forward and he pressed his fingers against her forehead.
Stars exploded across her vision as a pain stabbed through her mind. As
she blacked out, she thought she heard footsteps of someone coming to see what
had happened....
*
When Tenkou opened her eyes she found herself lying on a woven mat.
All around her torches burned in the wall scones, the light from their flames
bouncing off the stone walls and ceiling. "Where am I?" she wondered aloud.
"The innermost chamber of the Temple of Judgement," replied Evarrin.
He was standing at the back of the room, behind her. Or he was astral projecting
or whatever it was that he'd been doing before. He looked considerably less solid
that had behind the restaurant, as he was sort of fading in and out like a TV set
that needed to be adjusted. "Roughly a day's journey from the Babylon, the
capital city of the Southern Vaults," he elaborated.
Pushing herself to her knees, Tenkou looked around. The room was
sealed as far as she could tell. In the center of the room was a stone dais with a
shiny metallic sarcophagus resting atop it. What appeared to be wires and cables
ran from various outlets in the sacophagus' sides to the walls. "What is this
place?" she whispered, a chill settling in her bones. "It's like a tomb."
"It is a tomb," Evarrin replied. "It's my tomb."
"You're... dead?"
He snorted. "No, much to the dismay of certain individuals, I'm not." He
gestured to the sarcophagus. "I'm alive in there. 'Asleep' is how the rest of the
world refers to it. The mechanisms won't harm you, they don't effect humans."
Tenkou approached the dais. She shuddered at the look of the
sarcophagus, as it brought back bad memories of her experience in Yasha's
palace. "Evarrin," she began, turning back towards the specter. "Nathanael told
me that he controlled Yamato, but if he's not Judgement then--"
Evarrin nodded. "Yamato and I had an arrangement," he replied. "Sorry,
but I can't get any closer to the mechanism, or it will force me back into my
body."
Tenkou took a steadying breath and placed her hands on the edge of the
crystal lid. She gasped, pulling away and rubbing her hands together. The lid
was like ice, and her hands had gone numb just from the touch. She moved
closer, carefully avoiding actually touching the stone and peered down through
the crystal.
The young man in the sarcophagus lay on his side, on a soft green material
of some kind. His form was draped with a dark green coat-- a few sizes big-- that
completely covered him. His hair was a multitude of violet hues and spilled all
over his shoulders and down around his head. On his forehead, Tenkou could see
a golden spiral, and four diamond shapes of the same color marked it. Folded
over the young man was a golden feathered wing, but no flames danced along it.
"What happened?" Tenkou asked, without looking back at Evarrin. "Who
put you in there?"
"Nathanael."
At that she did turn and look at him. "Nathanael?" she repeated. "Why
would he do that?"
He sighed. "Sit," he suggested. "Get comfortable. That is a very long
story."
*
"Looks like Ethanael took off again," Valentine informed his father, as
Prometheus paid the bill. "The professor is all by himself."
Prometheus accepted his change with a polite smile. "Go wait outside for
me," he told Valentine. Valentine nodded and pushed out through the heavy
doors of the entrance. Prometheus swept his fingers over the Fortune Cookie in
his palm, humming softly to himself. He strode up to the table where Stone was
sitting. "Professor," he smiled, not too warmly, it wouldn't due to draw the man's
suspicions.
"Mr. Avalon," Stone replied, in the same forced pleasant tone.
Prometheus opened his palm, displaying the harmless-looking cookie to
Stone. "Ethan loves these things," he remarked. "I don't really care for them, so I
thought I'd offer mine to him. However," his eyes swept the area, "he isn't here."
"He went to the bathroom," Stone replied, frowning a little. "I'll tell him
you left it for him." After a few seconds, Stone's hand opened.
Prometheus' smile gained a more genuine quirk. "Thank you," he replied,
leaning forward to drop the cookie into the offered palm. As soon as it landed in
Stone's hand, the professor's eyes clouded over. "You're going to finish eating
and then pay your bill. Maybe you'll take home the leftovers, maybe not. Then
you're going to go home and do whatever it is that you do until you retire for the
evening." He paused. "Tenkou and Ethan went to a movie, and that's what you're
going to tell anyone who inquires as to where they are. If they aren't back by the
time you go to sleep, you're not going to worry. You'll just ask them how the
movie was in the morning." Prometheus straightened, his chains jangling
underneath his vest. "Best of luck with Ethan," he told Stone. "Don't hesitate to
contact me if you have any problems."
Stone's eyes refocused. "Oh.... yes," he said, blinking. "Thank you."
"Goodbye then, Professor," Prometheus waved, turning.
"Yes...." Stone replied. He looked down at the fortune cookie in his hand.
Frowning, he cracked it open and pulled the white slip of paper out from inside it.
" 'You are easily manipulated. Be wary of those who twist your will to theirs'," he
read. Snorting, he crumpled up the paper and dropped it onto his plate. "Fortune
cookies. What nonsense."
*
Requiem watched as the girl slumped forward into the arms of the red-
haired man. Biting his lip, he wondered what he should do. It wouldn't be right
to just sit back and let it happen, but that guy was Dawn Star's brother Reims--
which meant that he really shouldn't just let the guy walk off with that girl.
Chances were if Dawn wanted her, then Requiem should do everything he could
to keep the Western Lord from getting her.
But, damn, he would have to be suicidal to go up against Dawn's
_brother_. Yamato would have, a little voice in his told him. Yamato was a
Judgement Candidate, he reminded the voice. Not that it had saved him in the
end.
"And now, Ethanael," Reims told the unconscious girl, easily draping her
across an arm, "let's end this little charade of yours, shall we?" He withdrew a
wicked black dagger from a sheath at his hip.
Ethanael? Requiem's eyes widened. Fortune was tangled up in this
somehow? He swore under his breath. What should he do now? He could try to
get upstairs to Yamato's flat-- see if Hihane really was in there, but that meant
taking the chance that no one was home. Plus, he'd have to leave the girl to
Reims, and the sick smile on the man's face disturbed Requiem far too much for
that to be an acceptable option.
"Hey," he called, clearing his throat and taking a further step out into the
hallway. "What's going on?"
"I said it was not of your concern," Reims told him, eyes not leaving the
limp figure in his arms.
Requiem took a deep breath. "Some creep molesting girls in the hallway
is my concern," he replied. "You'd better put her down and back off."
Reims turned, eyeing Requiem. "Oh," he said, sounding disappointed, "I
know you. You're that annoying Song's brat, aren't you?"
"What about my father?" Requiem asked, feeling a flare of family pride.
"He wasn't very much fun," Reims replied, simply. "He didn't even
scream while we tortured him. It was if he didn't feel a thing." He paused. "If he
had been more entertaining, well, perhaps we wouldn't have killed him so
quickly."
"You're the bastard that killed my father?" Requiem snarled, the flames
beginning to dance around his fingers.
"I had to fight Fortune you know," Reims continued. "The little phoenix
wanted to let your father go free. He's so strange sometimes, always having those
unproductive fits of mercy."
Fortune had fought for his father's life? Requiem was so stunned, the
flames just went out. Fortune? Ethanael Hihane had wanted to let his father go
free? Gritting his teeth, Requiem focused his power. A sword composed of fire
appeared in his right hand. "If what you say is true," he began, slowly, "then my
family is indebted to Fortune."
"Oh?" Reims tapped his cheek with a red-polished finger. "I suppose that
is true, isn't it?" He shrugged. "Well, that's for you and Fortune to sort out.
Really none of my business at all."
"Then I'll repay my debt here," Requiem raised the sword, leveling the
point of the blade at Reims'. "Put the girl down."
Reims looked at Requiem and then at the unconscious girl in his arms. He
set "Katy" on the floor and rose to face Requiem, dagger in hand. "Do you know
what the problem with you FlameSongs is?" he asked, readying the small black
blade.
"Our loyalties aren't tied to you?" Requiem guessed, sliding into a ready
position. It looked like all those sword-battle techniques Yamato had tried to
teach him were about to get tested.
"What really bothers me is that every last one of you is far too eager to
meet your master," Reims replied, with a sneer, as he beckoned Requiem forward.
"Come then, little Song. I'll be more than happy to send you to your Sacred
Flame!"
Requiem tightened his grip on the hilt of his created FireBlade, and then
he charged.
*
Nathanael looked down at the still form of Mattaeo. It really had been too
simple to spell him to sleep. "Am I really the only reason you cling to this
mask?" Nathanael whispered, as his fingertips brushed Mattaeo's cheek. "Your
flaw has always been to love the wrong person, my Taeo," he added.
"Sir," the voice from the shadows said. "The sensors report that someone
has breached the barrier of Judgement's tomb."
Nathanael didn't look up from Mattaeo. "Does the Star know of this?"
"Not yet, Sir," the figure replied. "But, reports came in earlier today that
Dawn no longer has the Key."
"Of course not, Ethanael reclaimed it," Nathanael replied. "It doesn't
matter. Judgement's son is simply the Key's guardian, he is incapable of
unlocking the mechanisms without endangering himself. Judgement's power
flows through his veins, after all."
"Of course, Sir," the figure hurriedly agreed. "But sensors indicate that
Ethanael opened a passageway into the Temple of Judgement approximately two
minutes ago. He was not travelling alone. The new power was with him."
"Hope," Nathanael looked up. "Why would Hope go to the tomb? He's in
as much danger from it as Ethanael. You've verified this information to be
correct, Cadmiel?"
"They haven't entered the tomb yet, Sir," Cadmiel informed him. "The
presence that breached the barrier entered through an alternate portal that opened
directly inside the tomb... and it was human."
Nathanael pressed his fingertips to lips and then placed the kiss on
Mattaeo's forehead. The smaller man smiled in his sleep. "Forgive me, my Taeo,
but it appears I will be leaving you sooner than I thought." He rose from the bed,
turning to the shadowed figure. "You saw none of this."
"Of course not, Sir," Cadmiel replied. "As I have seen nothing for the past
three hundred years."
"Don't take that tone with me, Cadmiel," Nathanael warned. "You know
that if I fall, you'll go down with me as an accomplice."
Cadmiel nodded. Of course he knew. He was reminded every time he
tried to caution his superior's questionable personal relationships.
Nathanael dressed quietly, and then signaled for Cadmiel to follow him.
"The mirror," he told the smaller man, "is in the bathroom. It's the only in the
flat."
"Given the delicate nature of your relations with his brother," Cadmiel
began, slowly, "are you quite certain you're able to do what the Department
requires of you, Sir?"
Nathanael scowled. "My life with Mattaeo has done nothing to soften my
opinion of his brother," he snapped.
"Good, good, Sir," Cadmiel told him. "Seeing how monitors have
reported that you've been exhibiting rather... uncharacteristic behavior as of late."
Nathanael shot the other a look with all the warmth of the last ice age.
"Have you ever been controlled by one of the powers, Cadmiel?" he asked, icily.
"N-no, Sir," Cadmiel replied, shakily. "I can't say that I have."
"Perhaps if you had you would be better able to distinguish between
'uncharacteristic behavior' and 'possession'." He raised his hand before the mirror,
his golden wings unfolding behind him. Violent flames began to dance across
them as he raised his hand to the mirror. "Don't question my ability to carry out
my duties again," he warned. "I have plenty of reasons to want Judgement
returned to the eternal sleep."
"Of course, Sir," Cadmiel nodded. "Of course."
There was a final surge of violet light, and then the bathroom was empty.
*
4.02 pm 2.18.02
11.38 am 2.19.02
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