Sight

by Chrystal Blue

  “I’ll try.”

  Sebastian disappeared through the doorway, and Arel followed, walking into a small space in front of another door. Opening the door, the pair stood behind a broad tapestry of some sort. Arel could hear the voices of others in the space in front of them. Inhaling deeply, she slowly exhaled as they passed from behind the tapestry into the room.

  In the center of the room sat Aeron with Marcus at his right hand. On both sides of them were three other members of the Vampire clans. Aeron wore a large fur garment across his shoulder, and back the underlining matched the kilt and thick fur boots. Ornately dressed, a large gold belt and buckle resting in his lap, gold rings adorning his fingers, and gold accessories along with his boots he seemed to have stepped out of an ancient story. Atop his head sat a crown with thirteen points, each topped with a different stone. A few hairs peeked out from under his linen shirt between the thick chains hanging around his neck. His garments looked old, not worn, but as if they were as ancient as the patriarchal Vampire himself.

  Glancing around the room, she noticed his look fit in perfectly as if they had stepped back into a long-forgotten place. Aeron like the other members of the tribunal, complimented the ancient stone walls adorned with the large thick tapestries. The other members not as royally dressed as Aeron each wore a large pendant on thick chain bearing a crest and stone in its center. The other members of the tribunal wore similar velvet cloaks over their embroidered tunics. Arel studied each face of the tribunal trying to determine which of the three women seated, which was Ramla.

  A few feet in front of them away from the wall were two sections of seating each with three chairs. The expansive room devoid of any other Vampires, Arel was grateful for such a small intimate gathering. With so few numbers around, she would be better able to read the thoughts of those around her without getting confused. Even with her improvements in memory and her abilities, she still found herself confusing the opinions and recollections of several individuals.

  Following Sebastian, she sat in the middle seat, carefully studying the faces of those in front of them. Noticing Viktor absent, she turned and looked at the doors, wondering if he would walk through one of them on the opposite side at any moment. Deciding the opportunity to learn as much as she could from the members present, Arel concentrated her thoughts, slowly focusing on seeking a mind to peer into.

  Arel could hear a door behind them open and the faint footsteps walking towards them. In walked a young man with short brown hair wearing the same tunic and cloak as the other members of the tribunal. Trailing behind him a small child holding his hands clasped together. The young man walked towards the other members of the tribunal, waiting patiently for the young boy to be seated.

  The child slowly walked towards the other set of chairs. Deep-set brown eyes looked down at the floor as he strolled. His sandaled feet peeked out from beneath the cream linen tunic embroidered with the Marc crest on its front. Even without the insignia sewn to his chest Arel could tell it was Iliad’s child, the spitting image of his mother. The chubby cheeks on his round cherub-like face red and puffy from crying. Quietly he sat in the center of the three chairs, an empty seat on each side of him. Arel wondered where Iliad and Xavier could be and why they had abandoned their young son to face the tribunal all alone.

  The sight of him sitting quietly by himself tugged at her heart. The urge to rescue him, protect him, overcame her and she instinctively wanted to go and sit with him and hold his hand through the trial. Turning to Sebastian, she leaned in to whisper her intentions. Catrin brushed against her arm, causing her to turns towards the once empty seat next to her. Wearing a tunic similar to the one the others wore; it bore a golden crest of the Cadell family in its center.

  “Maybe we should have worn something else,” she whispered to Sebastian.

  “Shh. The proceedings are about to start,” replied Catrin.

  The young man stood forward, turning his back on them his eyes on the members of the tribunal. He began to speak in a language Arel did not understand. Looking around, she saw the attention of the others in the room focused on the young man speaking. Iliad’s son with head bent down stared at his feet, tears welled in his eyes. Rising from her seat, Arel brushed past Catrin, who was reaching up to grab her arm. Don’t touch, Arel’s thought went loud and clear to Catrin. Her hand repelled away from Arel, allowing her to pass.

  Quietly she walked over to the other section of seats, sitting next to the tearful child.

  “I’m Arel,” she whispered to the young child.

  The young man continued to speak, Arel could feel eyes watching her. Focusing on the child, she resisted the urge to see whose attention she had grabbed from the young man.

  “We aren’t supposed to talk,” he whispered back.

  Take my hand, she thought to him; her hand resting palm up on her thigh.

  Softly he shook his head no.

  You don’t have to hold my hand, it is okay. I can hear you if you just think about what you want to say. I’m just a little scared, I don’t really know what’s going on, Arel thought to the young child. Arel smiled sympathetically at the little boy sitting eerily still next to her.

  I’m not scared. I’m a Marc, my family keeps the laws.

  Your Iliad’s son. I like your mom; she was kind to me. Arel smiled down at the boy as he wiped the tears from his eyes.

  I miss my mom and dad. His eyes glued on the small leather sandals on his feet, tears continued to roll silently down his cheeks.

  Where are they?

  I can’t see them anymore, they broke the rules, but they have repented. I want to be a keeper of the laws one day, like my grandfather. I can tell you what they are saying.

  It’s about me, I know. I can help you see your mom if you like. I’m pretty good at finding people.

  Yes, he thought again as he wiped his face. He looked up at Arel, placing his hand in hers as he gently nodded his head quickly in agreement.

  Abruptly he pulled his hand away from Arel sitting straight in his chair his eyes forward.

  Before them, the young man who had been speaking earlier stood a few inches away, looking down at the pair.

  “Please let us know when we can continue,” he said his fangs hanging slightly lower than his top lip.

  Sebastian rose to walk over, as Arel shook her head no, holding her hand up for him to remain where he was seated. For her, there was no purpose for him to come to her side, she knew she faced no danger from anyone here. Arel also knew that if he continued to defend her, he would alienate himself more from the older Vampires. The last thing she wanted was for him to give them any more reason to doubt his loyalty or demand his death.

  “Your graces,” he began.

  Standing Arel cleared her throat, interrupting him.

  “Why am I here,” she asked them loudly.

  “You do not know why you are here,” asked the man. Scoffing, he turned towards Aeron before resting his eyes on Marcus.

  “How am I to understand what I am accused of? What I must answer for when I don’t even understand what you are saying. I don’t understand your customs, your traditions. I don’t understand why this child has been separated from his parents; all he wants is to be accepted. He wants to be like his grandfather, a keeper of your laws. I don’t understand why I have to answer for my actions as if my very existence is a crime,” said Arel.

  Marcus nodded his head at the young man who continued to stare at him.

  A young woman stood up from the chair stepping down from the platform. The front of her tunic full with her breast contrasted against the olive of her skin. Her almond-shaped deep-set brown eyes watched Arel. A slight smile framed her full red lips. Her jet-black hair breaded with gold thread was intricately pinned to the top of her head.

  “Come here Arel,” she said, stretching her hand out. Looking over towards Sebastian, Arel walked over to the young woman. Standing a few feet in front of the woman, her hands resting at her side.

&
nbsp; “Do you know who I am?”

  “No. I know Aeron, Marcus, Catrin, and of course Sebastian,” she responded, pointing out the faces as she cited their names.

  “I am called Ramla. Have you heard of me?”

  “Why am I here,” asked Arel ignoring the last part of her question. Remembering Sebastian’s warning, she knew the woman in front of her was someone whom she had to be careful with. Arel had the distinct impression it wasn’t just what she said but also how she behaved.

  “How is it that you do not know the history between the Darken and the Vampires? I know this is taught in schools. So how is it that you are ignorant of the severity of the situation?”

  Turning her head away, she looked to Sebastian. Ramla again stretched out her hand, placing her palm up in the air for Arel to rest her own hand in it.

  “Are you afraid,” asked Ramla.

  “Why should I be fearful,” replied Arel.

  “You still have not answered the question.”

  “I knew I was different, and it was safer for me not to be found.”

  “If you were in a state home, you would have been in a state school. How could you have not been found?”

  Sighing, Arel’s fingers fidgeted at her side.

  “I didn’t go to school. It wasn’t safe for me.”

  “You’re asking us to trust you, but you are not forthcoming with us.”

  “Early on, I learned certain places weren’t safe for me, hospitals, schools, any place the authority was present, presented a danger to me. I couldn’t escape back to where I came from as I couldn’t remember where it was, so I adapted. I need shelter, and I wanted out of the hospital. I wanted to be free of the experiments, so I altered their memory of me.”

  A look of surprise came across the face of a young man that remained seated. There was much about herself she hid from Sebastian, especially that of her abilities to change a person’s memory. It had been something she had used sparingly and other than Lucas who no longer remembered no one alive knew she could do so.

  “What do you mean,” Ramla asked.

  “It was easier for them to release me from the hospital if I was only a child with nightmares who didn’t talk.”

  “I’ve always wanted to know what it felt like to have my thoughts read. Do you mind placing your hands in mine? I know you don’t need physical contact to be able to communicate, but I do.” said Ramla.

  You can communicate with me, Arel thought.

  “Yes, I can,” Ramla replied.

  Arel lifted her hands, placing them on top of Ramla’s watching the older Vampire as she closed her eyes. She could feel Ramla starting at her most recent memories, searching back through time. A rush of energy transferred between the two women as the elders continued to watch them. While Arel felt her memories observed, she searched Ramla’s working back, searching for the memories that involved the Darken. It was when Ramla reached her at the hospital that she blocked off the rest of her past.

  “Clever girl. That explains why you know nothing of the histories and how the Darken never knew you existed before now.”

  “Now, you know.”

  “Will you perhaps let the rest of us know what it is you have learned,” said Marcus staring over at Ramla. His bottom lip quivered slightly in irritation at the pair. Arel had noticed the slight tell of how he was feeling before.

  “Even as a child she was quite powerful,” said Ramla to the others. “At the hospital, she had the nurses draw their own blood - her blood never made it into the system.”

  “How could she have accomplished that,” Marcus asked.

  “Once you are in their system, there’s no way to hide,” interjected the young man standing away from the members of the tribunal.

  “She influenced them, altered their memories. She sensed the fear of the young human couple that found her, even then she was able to invade their minds. At school, she planted memories of herself in the class, of her being a bright but quiet child, almost forgettable.”

  Arel’s eyes stayed focused on Ramla, still holding her palms up.

  “It was safer for me that way. I learned the hard way that people were not safe, and I did what I needed to protect myself, staying hidden from them.”

  “So, you do know who the Darken are,” asked Marcus.

  “No, she only knew something was after her. She’s still afraid of them,” replied Ramla.

  Grabbing Ramla’s hands, Arel spoke directly to her, “I have let you in, but you must keep my secret. They must not know about the child, do you understand?”

  “What are you afraid of,” asked Ramla.

  “You all must promise, she has to be protected at all costs,” Arel demanded.

  “What will you do if we do not? That child belongs to the Darken. Will you wipe our memories as well,” asked Marcus.

  “I have not tried it on a Vampire, but I would be happy to try on you,” replied Arel. Frustrated, she stared over at Marcus, second-guessing her decision to try to alter his memory. Knowing if she used any of her powers on the elders, she would surely be sealing the fate of Sebastian and their child. “You do not know what you are saying.”

  “Tell us why the child is so important,” said Marcus.

  Looking over at Ramla, Arel held her tongue. Unsure of how much more she should plead with the older Vampire, she waited quietly.

  “The resistance bet everything on you two, training you in the ways of war. They lied to you, but you knew that. You were right in your distrust of them,” said Ramla.

  “She let them believe her sister Teraya was the one they were looking for,” interrupted Sebastian.

  “Sebastian,” cried Arel. “Don’t say anything.”

  “We all know the Resistance believed they could defeat Zorin. They boasted how they could bring about his end with a secret weapon. They thought the two of you were going to bring an end to the Darken. How could you two end Zorin,” Ramla asked.

  “What do you know of my mother, her abilities,” asked Arel.

  “Everyone knows she was a destroyer of worlds. A member of the Moruka, Zorin’s elite army,” replied Ramla.

  “Zorin had my mother, the resistance had my sister and me.”

  “You’re the Resistance’s weapon,” asked Marcus. Smirking, Marcus shook his head slightly disgusted at mentioning the name of the group.

  “She’s no more a weapon than our child is a bargaining chip with the Darken,” demanded Sebastian.

  “No one has seen this supposed power. We do not put stock in anything the Resistance believes or says for that matter. They can be trusted no more than Darken. You cannot be trusted. You are our ENEMY,” replied Marcus.

  “I am your ally, not your enemy. When you look beyond our differences, you will see that we have the same goal in mind. We want the same thing, Marcus.”

  “What is it you want,” Ramla asked.

  “Peace,” replied Arel.

  “Peace,” Marcus snorted. “Peace will come when Zorin and his armies are dead.”

  “I would be careful of the words I chose to use Marcus,” said Ramla.

  “We need peace. There has been enough bloodshed, enough devastation, and death,” interrupted Arel.

  The room sat quiet, Marcus’s anger brewing on the surface. Arel knew Marcus' hatred stemmed from what her people had done. Inhaling, she walked over to where he sat, reaching her hand out, she rested it on his shoulder. With tears in her eyes, she breathed in again before speaking.

  “Marcus, I am deeply sorry for the death of your people, your wife, and your son.”

  “I’ve never known the Darken to apologize,” the young man said.

  Arel turned from Marcus, her back facing him as she walked closer to the council members. Stopping in front of Aeron, she reached her hand out towards him.

  “Please, can we forge peace between us? Allow me to prove my words are true. I am not what you believe,” said Arel.

  “We have not had an opportunity present itself lik
e this before. I am sure we all appreciate your candor and honesty Arel. We will take some time to discuss what we have learned today,” said Ramla.

  Sad at the fact Aeron refusal to acknowledge her, Arel stood there waiting. Sebastian stood next to her, taking her hand into his own intertwining their fingers together. Looking over at him, she smiled up at him, as he looked towards his father.

  “As far as the matters at hand, we still must discuss the matter of Asier Reinald Marc, son of Iliad Reinald Marc and Xavier Marc. The other matter we have come to discuss is the union of Sebastian Cadell, son of Aeron Cadell and Amata Reinald with Arel, daughter of Manea, granddaughter of Zorin, a child of the Darken.”

  Returning to her seat, Ramla waited for the others to take their place before continuing. Sebastian reached down, lifting her hand to his lips, kissing it gently. Turning, he led her back to their seats. Across from them, Arel watched Asier the young boy sitting by himself.

  “We must listen,” whispered Sebastian as he turned Arel’s head toward the seated members of the tribunal.

  “Our laws have guided us, protected us in times when chaos would have sent us hurtling into darkness. We have upheld the laws without question, each house doing their part to ensure the survival of future generations, branches on the great tree of Emi and Iona,” said Ramla.

  “Through carefully selected unions, we have strengthened the lines of the families. Two of our most sacred laws have been broken. Iliad Reinald Marc has broken the promise of a union. Her actions have not only denied future branches on our great tree, but the tribute promised to the Darken. She is not present as she has asked for forgiveness of her crimes, pledging Asier to fulfill the duty of tribute.”

  “Wait, what,” yelled Arel. “You can’t be serious.”

  “Arel,” said Sebastian. “We must be silent.”

  Arel stood in front of her chair anger in her eyes, her arms crossed as she stared at Marcus sitting across the room.

  “Absolutely not! That tribute stuff is over, it’s fulfilled. I will not stand by while you give that child to the Darken. What’s next, you’ll ask us to do the same,” demanded Arel.