“And I am who I have become," Sarasin growled. She felt a fire of rage growing inside of her, “How are you even… I mean, are you real?”
“Of course,” the girl replied, “Just like our son."
Sarasin looked down at the ghost of her baby boy who had cuddled up against her and closed his eyes. He was so beautiful to her and felt so real, she wished that she could just run away with him. She reached her hand out to touch him but stopped and pulled it back as she turned to her own ghost.
“What are you?" She demanded, “Why do you exist?”
“I am the soul you relinquished so long ago,” the girl explained, “And I exist to take care of our son and to one day restore you."
“Our son," Sarasin thought over the words carefully, “Eliss is alive…”
“Yes,” the girl whispered, “And it is time for you to join us. God is asking for you. You must come with us!"
“There is no God," Sarasin spat as she shook her head, “Only Dura’Ana, mother of all. Anything else is heresy!" Little Sarasin sneered and shook her head.
“If you cannot trust the word of your own soul, Sarasin, then whose can you trust? The Emperor's? You think he has your best interests in mind?”
“I do not trust myself…" Sarasin rebutted, “Every time I let my mind work on its own, I end up bleeding."
“That is because you lost yourself! You were not strong enough to even protect your own spirit. Every ounce of power you think you have is a facade to mask the emptiness within you. Try to at least pretend that I am someone you do trust because I want to restore you! God keeps asking for you; he needs you!"
“What would a god need with me?" Sarasin asked.
“The same thing you think your Dura’Ana needs," Little Sarasin replied, “Just you,"
“I cannot," Sarasin squeaked as she shook her head. She pushed herself up off the ground and found her feet, “I am a Bishop General of the Mighty Govian Empire, herald of the true faith… and I am drunk as shit… and neither you nor your false god is real!”
Eliss and Little Sarasin looked up at her and then back at each other. They shrugged their shoulders and shook their heads, “She’s a little dramatic," Little Sarasin said in a comforting tone to Eliss, “Pay her no mind,"
“Listen here you little shit!" Sarasin snapped her hand out and pointed at Little Sarasin, “Vanish, disappear, do whatever ghosts do. But, leave. Me. Alone!"
“Let’s let her sober up… let her think about it. Do not fret, my love for she loves you more than she could ever know," Little Sarasin reassured Eliss. She looked up at her physical self with a chiding glare and sighed, “She knows what is true."
“Go!" Sarasin screamed as she waved her hands at the children, “Begone!” She howled angrily and turned away as she began to sob. The sight of Eliss was enough to tear her apart, the fact that he and Little Sarasin seemed to be working against her though was enough to push her to the edge.
At that, the children were gone and Sarasin was left alone with the alley cat. Her thoughts were becoming clearer and clearer as her NaNe worked to clear the drunkenness from her mind. Eventually, she stopped throwing her fit and pulled out her communicator. It was time for her to return to her life. She flipped open the device and held it to her ear.
“Eryc,” she said into the receiver, “Meet me at Impulse in one hour. We must prepare for tomorrow," she sighed once again and flipped the communicator shut. She took a moment to compose herself and as she allowed the thoughts of the "ghosts" or whatever they had been to bleed out, she suddenly found herself with company.
"Stop it, please!" She heard the cracked and sobbing voice of a female pleading with somebody. It was nearby, perhaps only around the corner. As the sound got closer, Sarasin backed up and pressed herself as flat as she could against the brick wall.
"Quiet, bitch!" A muffled voice ferociously responded. It sounded like its owner was wearing a helmet of some sort. Sarasin watched as four people quickly rounded the corner into her alley. She stood silent and hidden by the darkness and observed.
She saw the form of a female. The girl wore a black dress and heels and had her hands restrained. Behind her were three Govian Inquisitors. There was one holding each of the girl's thin arms and one who kept watch. They pushed her forward and she tumbled into a puddle.
"This'll teach her to fuckin' jaywalk!" One of the Inquisitors laughed as he bent down and grabbed the girl’s long hair. He forced her back up and the others quickly ran and joined his side.
"She's a pretty one," another exclaimed as he drew a pistol from his hip. He pressed the barrel against her head and she whined with terror, "And she's going to keep her hot little mouth shut, isn't she?"
The girl nodded violently and desperately. The third inquisitors walked up in front of her and loosened his belt, "Gonna be hard for to say much of anything," he exclaimed, "not with a full mouth, right bitch?"
As the Inquisitors laughed, Sarasin stepped away from the wall. She walked up behind the undressing Inquisitor and grabbed him by the back of the neck.
"What is going in here?" She hissed as she removed her hood with her free hand, "What the fuck do you think you are doing?"
The other Inquisitors gasped at the sight of Bishop General Sarasin. One reached for his pistol, but Sarasin was quick to act. She threw her hand to the side and with a sudden burst of NaNe energy, he was slammed into the brick wall and tumbled to the ground.
"Tell me!" Sarasin demanded, "What were you planning to do with this girl?"
"We were placing her under arrest!" The last Govian shouted. His voice was high and trembling, "She... jaywalked and we were restraining her!"
"Lies!" Sarasin retorted. She lifted the Inquisitor that was in her hand and slammed him to the ground. He groaned as the air was forced out of his lungs and as she released him, she stepped up to the only Inquisitor who still stood.
"Tell me the truth!" She demanded as she held her palm out to him. He threw his hands up and fell to his knees. Sarasin could hear him hyperventilating behind his helmet.
"Honest!" He desperately declared, "She was resisting, we had to find a secure location and wait for..."
Sarasin reached out and slammed her palm into the side of the Inquisitor's head. His helmet flew off and she could see the fearful tears on his face glistening in the moonlight. She snatched her hand out and grabbed him by the throat, digging her dagger-like nails into his skin as she did.
"Last chance," Sarasin warned, "Confess your sin, you piece of shit!"
The Inquisitors howled with pain and fear and Sarasin could hear the other standing. She turned her head just on time to watch the Inquisitor who had removed his belt snatch up the girl and press his pistol against her temple.
"That's enough now, Bishop General!" he shouted, "One more move and she loses her head."
"And then what?" Sarasin snapped, "You think you will go free, that you will just walk out of here? I will crucify your worthless raping ass. I will do it right here, right now. Let the girl go. Be a big boy and face me all by yourself."
"Let me pass!" he shouted as he walked closer, "If you do, she doesn't die."
Sarasin was not about to have any of it. She grit her teeth and tossed the Inquisitor whose neck she had in her hand to the side. With a sudden burden burst of NaNe speed. She shot forward and thrust her hand between the pistol and the girl's head. As the Inquisitor pulled the trigger, she released a powerful blast of NaNe energy from her palm that slowed the bullet and threw the gun from his hand. She pinched the bullet between her fingers and tossed it aside.
The Inquisitor was stunned and the girl broke free and scampered away. Sarasin reached out and grabbed the Govian's throat and as NaNe surrounded her hand, she clamped down and felt his trachea collapse.
"You are everything wrong with this world," she hissed. The Inquisitor wheezed and choked as he tried to pry her fingers free. She snarled at the pitiful being and sent out another blast that vaporized his neck. His head fell bac
kward and rolled away just as the rest of his body fell to the ground. Furiously, Sarasin turned toward the others.
The one whom she had slammed against the wall charged and swung his blade at her. She jumped back, nearly tripping over the headless body behind her and reached out, blasting his sword from his hand. In one quick motion, she pulled her rapier free of its scabbard and thrust it through the Inquisitor's facemask. As he fell, the last Inquisitor, the one without the helmet turned to run.
Sarasin reached her hand out and lifted the fleeing would-be-rapist from the ground. He flailed wildly in the air, screaming for mercy and she quickly brought her hand down and slammed his body into the ground. As he arched his back and tried to crawl, Sarasin hurried over and quickly placed her hand on the back of his head and grabbed his hair.
"I hate you," she snarled furiously, "All of you." A NaNe charged punch caved in the side of his face and she heard his neck snap. Sarasin growled, stood, and turned toward the girl who was cowering in the shadows next to the brick wall.
"Stand up straight," Sarasin hissed as she approached, "Let go of your fear, do not let them have that power over you!" The girl tried to obey, she tried to stand and raise her head but her body was too busy trembling from everything that had just happened. She wept bitterly and Sarasin hurried to her and wrapped her arms around her.
"It is okay, sweet girl," she whispered as she tried to soothe her, "You are safe now." Sarasin stepped back and placed her palms on the sides of the girl's head.
“What is your name sweetie?"
"C...Calraasa," the girl stammered, "Who are you?"
“I am a girl like you, Calraasa," Sarasin choked, "And I promise you, everything will be okay. You go straight home, you hear me? Do not stop. Never stop, do you understand?"
"Y...yes," Calraasa sobbed, "Thank you..."
“Be strong, Calraasa," Sarasin encouraged, "Hold onto your life. Never let anyone else hold power over you. Do you hear me?” Sarasin's own lip quivered and Calraasa nodded.
“Good," Sarasin whispered, "Now go."
At that, Calraasa ran. When she was gone, Sarasin leaned against the brick wall and cried. The situation had been too real for her; it felt like a knife had been planted deep into her heart. She had to go though; she couldn't stay there. As she sniffled and gathered herself, she too started to run.
Chapter Three
Rubaan I
12th of Ramlia – 346AG
18:00 – Canrom City
The apartment was small and bland, but they did their best to make it home. The walls were aged cracked plaster and the floors were concrete and cold on their feet. They had thrown down some gray rugs to remedy the cold and hung a few pieces of art on the walls to try and make it seem more comfortable.
The main living area was nothing but a small room that extended to a walk-in kitchen. Behind the living room was a small hallway with three doors, two led to the bedrooms and one to the bathroom.
An old but clean red sofa sat in the middle of the living room and a big box of a television rested on a small wooden table across from the couch. A single light bulb hung from the ceiling in each the kitchen and the living room, and a part of dusty boots rested by the front door.
The husband and father had just returned home from a long day in the mines. He had stripped off his work clothes and changed into shorts and a t-shirt and rested his sore body on the couch. With his head against the armrest and his socked feet crossed on the cushions he looked up at his wife, smiled and farted.
"Did you wash the dishes?" the short brown-haired half-blood asked his wife. He hadn't bothered to look at the sink, but he did know that the dirty dishes had been sitting for too long and he was tired of looking at them. He knew it was his job, they had both agreed on it. To his wife's dismay, however, he rarely did his job.
“Yes, dear," his platinum-haired Vampre wife replied. “They are clean and put away just as you commanded my lord Rubaan."
“Oh, come on," Rubaan groaned as he rolled his eyes at her sarcasm, “There’s no need for that,"
“Oh but my grace," his wife half-whispered with a mischievous grin plastered to her face, “‘Tis my lot in life to serve only you is it not?" She curtsied in her sweatpants and oversized shirt and lowered her head. Rubaan chuckled and threw his legs up onto the couch. As he stood and walked over to her, he too joined in on the sarcastic banter.
“Your lot in life is nowhere near that arduous my lady," he said as he snaked his hand around to the back of her head. He pulled her close so that her face was only inches away from his and smiled. “Your lot in life is to love me my beautiful Amaria."
“I suppose that’s not quite so dreary," Amaria admitted, as she pulled her head away from him. “I would love to love you." the couple giggled for a moment and he gently leaned in and planted his lips on hers.
The two loved each other in spite of their living conditions. They had agreed to be only each others for as long as they lived. They did their best to please each other, to stay happy and live a simple life. They didn't want the turmoil of Rubaan's family business or Amaria's horrifying past to get in their way of raising their son.
“How was Roc today?" Rubaan asked as he let her go and scratched the back of his head, “Good I hope?”
“He is definitely his father’s son," Amaria replied with a toothy grin, “Very gassy."
“Funny!" Rubaan pointed at her and gave her a tender and playful shove, Funny girl!"
Amaria curtsied at her husband again and released a laugh, “He smiled today," she told him as she formed her dark red lips into a proud grin, “It was so beautiful. His first real smile, I almost cried."
“Did he smile big?" Rubaan asked, “What did you do to make him smile?”
“I told him I loved him." Amaria replied, “In baby talk of course,"
“Oh, baby talk," Rubaan could hear the chiding words of his mother in his head, “I hear that will make him dumb."
“Oh, that’s just what people say," Amaria replied as she dismissively waved her hand at him. “Our boy will never be stupid,"
“My mother would have a different opinion," Rubaan shrugged, “Why, I am surprised she hasn't insisted we speak only in proper Humaan to him. With correct and stern pronunciation so that he learns it right the first time."
“Your mother is not that bad." Amaria laughed as she shook her head, "A little rough around the edges maybe but, she's fine."
“You did not grow up with her," Rubaan rebutted in a low voice, “She beat my ass for simpler things than using contractions. I don't think I ever saw her around Crinnan without a belt in her hand. She's a damn demon." Amaria shook her head and sat down on their red sofa. Rubaan sat next to her and wrapped his arm around her.
He thought of his twin brother as he mentioned his name. Crinnan had been missing for 81 days; he had not returned home from one of his missions with Century Squad. The thought made Rubaan momentarily silent, and Amaria saw it.
“Speaking of your mother!" Amaria happily chirped to try and draw his attention away, “Your parents did swing by today,"
“In the daylight?" Rubaan asked with a concerned tone, “What did they want? Is everything okay?”
“Everything is fine. They were disguised and of course wanted to see their grandson," Amaria replied, “Your father was thrilled as always… so was your mom, though she shows it in a funny way."
“It is hard to appear thrilled when you never smile," Rubaan murmured, "Did they bring Alma?”
“No," Amaria shook her head and then rested it on Rubaan's chest, “They left her back at their headquarters with the nanny."
Rubaan shook his head and sighed. He did not like the idea of his parents so carelessly wandering around in the daylight. They were at the top of the Govian Empire's most wanted list in Canrom City and the thought of them just parading into his home unannounced concerned him greatly.
“Where is my boy anyway?" Rubaan asked as he looked around the living room, “I want to hold
my son."
“Your son is asleep," Amaria replied sternly, “And I worked very hard to get him to sleep. If you wake him up..."
“Relax, I will be quiet," Rubaan rolled his eyes, “I promise." He planted a kiss on his wife’s forehead and stood up from the couch.
As he walked to his bedroom, he could not help but think how pleased he was with his family. His wife was like a dream; beautiful, funny and intelligent. He had resigned from his position in the army to be with her as she proved to be the one real thing in the world that he found was worth protecting.
Only a few months prior his wife had delivered their child. They named the boy Roc and from the day he was born he was the center of Rubaan’s attention. Amaria loved the fact that Rubaan was such a good husband and father and wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of her days nestled safely in his arms. The three of them were truly a happy family.
As Rubaan entered his bedroom and neared his son he could not help but smile. The boy was beautiful, perfect in every way. He knelt down next to the bed that the boy slept on gently touched the hair on top of his head, careful not to disturb him. Roc stirred a bit and Rubaan pulled his hand back.
Rubaan beamed at the sight of his son. As his head hovered over the baby, he could not help but think about exactly what kind of person he would one day become. He wondered whether he would grow into a warrior like his uncles, a powerful leader like his aunt or grandparents or if he would favor a simple life and decide to labor in the mines and provide for his family like his father. His life was before him and Rubaan wanted to give him everything.
“What kind of world have I made for you?" Rubaan thoughtfully whispered as he took a seat at the foot of his bed. His eyes never left the baby, “Did I make the right choice? Can I protect you if I need to?" Rubaan shook his head and gently laid on his side and propped his head up with his arm. His thoughts wandered to the time he spent secretly fighting the Govian Empire, a time before he had his own little family to worry about.
The Black Knight Box Set Page 28
