by M C Ashley
Smiling, I looked up to see Zea glaring at me again.
“Did you do anything to me while I was unconscious?” Zea asked, coolly.
“Did I what?” I asked, shaking my head.
“Did you…do anything to me…while I was unconscious?”
“No! Well, I mean, I took off your clothes to use the healing invocation, but I only looked to save your life! I panicked! I’m sorry! If there were any other way I’d have done it!”
We met eyes.
“I believe you,” she said. “Please calm down. I just needed to know.”
“Oh,” I said, relaxing myself. “I see. Just trading the favor, Ms. Changes-Clothes-While-I’m-Asleep.”
“Well, it looks like I’m not exactly blameless here either, Blake. Considering the circumstances, I owe you my life. Thank you.”
“My pleasure, Zee. I just wish it didn’t have to be so awkward.”
“Am I unattractive?”
“What? No! I—”
“I’m kidding, Blake. You’re a bad influence.”
“Oh.”
Zea laughed. “I’m sorry; I don’t really know how to act around men that well,” she said. “The only ones I’ve ever talked to before you were just street vendors.”
“And none of them were as dashing and handsome as yours truly, I’ll bet,” I said.
“Oh, there was one. He sold vegetables. Brown hair, gorgeous green eyes. He was my first crush. I was eleven.”
“Oh really? What happened to him?”
“He was convicted of smuggling a Bible into Vice City and killed.”
“Those monsters!”
“Thanks for caring. You never forget your first, I imagine. Yours?”
I frowned.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Zea said. “You still don’t know who…”
“No, it’s okay,” I said. “Well, no, it’s not, but I can’t solve it right now.”
“I understand.”
“You remember Akemi?” I asked.
“The one who left the death mark?”
“Yeah. She was my first crush. My mother used to tease me about her all the time. Said I had a thing for redheads because of her. Very Oedipal, which for some reason she always found hilarious. Anyways, I tried to ask Akemi out on a date once when I was eleven and she said yes immediately. I was so nervous. When it happened, though, we tried to kiss, but when we did, neither of us felt anything. We kinda looked at each other for a moment and laughed. We realized we just weren’t going to be more than friends and teased each other about it after that. She dated one of my friends, Brian, after that. I used to tell him I’d stolen her first kiss from her and that it was a thousand times better than anything he could offer her.”
Zea laughed. “And after that?”
“Nothing I remember. I was always too focused on the job. There was always another werewolf to kill, another crypt to raid. I had my crushes sure, but nothing that ever really meant anything. I guess whoever—was it her? Was she the one Akemi was trying to tell me about in the death mark? Was it Meredith? Had that been her name? Or the Ariel that Mara and I discovered? What about the girl with blonde hair I saw in my parents’ room? I just don’t know anymore.”
I paused, tears falling again from my left eye. I wondered if my right eye was incapable of producing tears anymore.
“You know, it occurs to me that this is a highly inappropriate conversation to be having while awaiting our inevitable demise,” I said.
“Well, it’s either this or panic,” Zea said.
I laughed. “I see your point. Wish I had something to read though.”
“You read?”
I stuck my tongue out at her. “I am quite the scholar. I just couldn’t sit still for longer than thirty minutes to read anything, but I always came back to it.”
“This does not surprise me. What of your mother’s book? What did you think of it?”
“It—I never got to read it.”
Zea blinked twice. “What do you mean?”
“My mother never finished writing it, or at least it wasn’t published in my time,” I said. “But it must’ve if it was in the Archives. Everything we write goes there.”
“I—I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”
I laughed. “For what? Reading the book written by the mother of a man you’d never seen before a couple of days ago?”
“Well, yes.”
“Forgiven, sweetheart.”
“She seemed like she was a remarkable woman.”
“Yeah. She was the best. Never too strict and never too complacent. Always had a knack of knowing exactly what was going on in that head of mine, even when I didn’t. Especially when I didn’t. She was kind too. She was always there to listen to my issues. I still remember going to see her when I was twenty. She would always call me out when I didn’t want to admit my failures.” I paused. “Wait a minute. What would she say if she saw me now? Oh God, she’d kill me for trying to kill myself!”
Zea giggled. “Can’t you take this seriously? We’re about to die, you know?”
You don’t have to, an icy voice said in my mind.
Nathan-Prime? I asked. Your voice changed.
I am not Nathan-Prime, but I am like him.
Who are you?
I am the one who aided you earlier. You used the power from what I crafted to save the young Nathan from harm.
But that power…it was so…wrong, I sent.
I do not deny it, but did it not help keep you alive? Did it not help you save young Nathan like the Prime wanted you to?
Yes it did, but—
Please. I do not wish to seduce you with words. I have changed my ways. You have asked me to.
I asked you to?
I am a shade of what I used to be before you defeated me and sealed me within my artifact. You requested that I spend the remaining years of my un-life considering what I needed to do to have a chance at redemption. I have listened and wish to offer you some of my power to prove myself to you.
But where did I meet you? I—
There is little time, Blake Azarel, the voice said. I can only reveal myself for short periods of time before I am forced into a lesser state of existence. Please, take my power to save yourself from bondage. You told yourself that you want to live. Did you mean it?
Yes, I did.
Then please save yourself. If you die, then I do as well. But this is not what is of the truest importance. It is the lives of the people we could save that would be of far more worth than my own life. They will not detect it. My power offered to you is something that they will not be looking for. It will mask itself in the dark energies of this palace and seem as if it had always been there. Please, if you ever believed in my redemption: Save the sacrifices from the Feast.
“—Blake,” Zea said, snapping me back to the prison cell.
I shook myself, feeling the frozen grip of something beyond myself trying to take control of my bonds.
“What are you doing?” Zea asked.
“Trust me,” I said. “I may have just found us a way out of here. Looks like it’s time for some anulus ex machina.”
I looked at the ring and my right eye pulsated. Willing it to activate, I imagined a dark force of light erupting from the ring and slicking the chain holding my right hand from the wall. Appearing instantaneously, a black light erupted from the ring and cut the chains off, passing through my arm without harming it, although a sudden chill erupted throughout the nearby nerves. I ignored it and summoned a dark sword to cut my other chains. I fell to the ground, feeling further pulsations from the remainder of my body.
I vaguely heard Zea calling out to me, but I could barely register her voice. I tried to look up at her, but my head wouldn’t move.
My body was cold. Colder than anything I had ever felt before. I shivered from the insane temperatures I was exposing it to. I tried to fight it back. I summoned the light from within myself and sent it outward, knowing it could tip off anyone if they were lookin
g for us, but decided it was worth the risk. The dark light rushed forward, severing the bonds that held Zea. She fell to the floor.
I groaned, feeling the coldness slowly seeping away from me. I opened my eyes to stare at the ring. The darkness had crawled back into it. The dragon on the ring flashed its eyes red once, but the color disappeared just as soon as it appeared.
“What was that?” Zea asked.
“I don’t know,” I said, picking myself up from the floor. “It was so cold.”
“Blake—your eye.”
I felt a drop of blood leave my right eye. I raised my hand and touched the blood with trepidation. I had no idea what was going on. Something had tried to control me.
Nathan-Prime? I asked.
It wasn’t me, he sent. That I promise you.
Then what is it?
The time is not right. It may have aided you, but do not fully trust it. All I can tell you is that if you continue to use its power, you will be controlled by it, just like she was.
She who?
Time, kid. Time’s your ally. The great lord will tell you when the time’s right.
Of course he will, whoever he is. Thanks for nothing.
I shook my head and grumbled.
“Let me heal it,” Zea said, kneeling in front of me. “Balm of Gilead.”
Zea’s hands soon emitted a powerful white light and my eye healed.
“I never noticed before—your eyes are different colors,” Zea said. “Sometimes the red one looks browner for some reason.”
“I didn’t notice until I came here,” I said. “Before this they were both hazel, but something must’ve changed that.”
I looked at my finger and found the ring emitting a dark aura.
“You,” I said, trying to take it off my ring finger.
It wouldn’t budge. I tried again and failed once more.
“What is that thing?” Zea asked, as the dark light faded away into nothingness.
“I first saw it when I came here,” I said. “But I feel it isn’t good for the soul.”
“Can you take it off?”
“No.”
“Let me try.”
“No!”
Zea took a step back and eyed me warily.
“I can’t risk you getting infected by it,” I said. “There’s no telling what it’s up to, but it can’t be advantageous if this is the end result. Let’s keep it quarantined on me until we can find another way to get rid of it. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Now we have to get out of here and hope no one’s waiting for us outside.”
“We have no idea what the layout of this place is. Besides. We don’t even have our clothes and supplies. For all we know they’re several rooms away from us.”
“Then we’ll be quiet. Hide our presences from them. Skulk about and get our gear in time to stop the Feast. Hopefully rendezvous with Clooney and Nathan along the way.”
“Are you ready?”
I nodded, moving to the door. My body ached from the ring’s power, but I willed the pain away. I had to focus. Opening the door, I peered out, finding an empty hallway with a plethora of doors that could have contained our valuables.
“Let’s try that room,” Zea said, pointing to the door in front of us.
I opened the door and discovered that our clothes were indeed in that very room.
“Hmm, convenient,” I said, putting on my clothes.
“Don’t make this harder than it has to be by invoking fate,” Zea said, grabbing her robe and putting her hair back into a ponytail with an ersatz scrunchie.
“You got it, Zee.”
“That’s not my name.”
“I know, but I like using it.”
“So I’ve noticed. I’m beginning to get used to it myself.” She paused. “Listen, we have got to get out of here. I raised my awareness a bit and noticed that Zoë didn’t leave any trackers here. She must really think we’re beneath her.”
“Her loss.”
“I think if we go to this way we should get out of here unmolested. You ready?”
“Sure thing.”
We left the room behind, still careful to make sure no one detected us.
“So, do we have a plan, Zee?” I asked.
“Follow me; I have an idea of how to escape without being caught,” she said, pointing to our left. “Oh, and Blake, it’s only fair now that I know your full name—my name is Zea Sophia Accorsi.”
I tipped my hat to her. “Pleasure, ma’am,” I said, smiling.
Zea smiled, leading me forward through the corridors. Surprisingly there was no one around save for the odd servant we avoided. We waited for them to pass us, hoping they wouldn’t see us, but when we passed by one of them I felt a disturbing sensation from her and watched her walk away from us. She had unkempt blonde hair that covered her neck, swollen brown eyes that seemed devoid of life, and looked to be about twenty-one. She wore a simple and dirty white tunic that barely covered her body. It seemed as if it had been ripped apart more than once by stronger creatures time and time again.
“Those monsters,” I said, clenching my fist.
“We can’t focus on this now, Blake,” Zea said. “The Feast.”
“Do you feel what I feel?”
Zea paused. “Yes.”
“There’s something wrong.”
“Blake she’s been—she lives here. Of course something’s wrong.”
“It’s more than that. Looks like you’re rubbing off on me.”
Before Zea could say anything, I walked out, following the slave as she exited through a door that led outside. She moved slowly, with an almost zombie-like gait. The wind whipped her hair when she stepped outside. She moved closer to the balcony. Picking herself up, she stood on top of the balustrade, gazing out at the water below.
I realized what she was about to do and rushed forward, crying out, “No!”
Stunned by my appearance, she gasped and stared at me with a look of dread. She continued gazing at me, as if waiting for me to come closer, so that I could continue her torment. I frowned. She had no idea what we were. Of course, she’d be terrified of us.
“I can’t do it anymore,” she said, swaying a bit. “You don’t know what it’s like. They make you see everything—God help me. My family—my brother. The things they made me see—made me feel. I can’t.”
“Please don’t,” I said, my hand outstretched. “You can’t let them win. You can’t let the past haunt you anymore.”
“You don’t know. You can’t know. How they feed. I thought I loved people, but I was wrong. I thought I had no fear, but I was wrong. They made me experience who I really was. I hate myself.”
“No you don’t—you hate what they made you feel and you hate them. They fed on that hatred too, didn’t they?”
She shivered.
“Please, tell me your name.”
“Why? So you can bind me with a spell and force me to do—to do—” She wept.
“No,” I said. “To help. I am here to help you. You have my Word.”
“What good is that? How can I trust you?”
I took a deep breath. “My name is Magnus Blake Macbeth Azarel.”
I felt veins burst in Zea’s mind. The woman regarded me with suspicion and looked into my eyes. The moment our eyes met, she saw their resolve and nodded.
“My name is Dorothy Alexis Alduino,” she said.
“That is a very strong name,” I said. “Do you know what it all means?”
She shook her head.
“Dorothy comes from the Greek, where it means ‘gift of God.’ Alexis is also Greek and means ‘defender’ and sometimes means ‘defending men’ just like it did for Alexander the Great. Alduino comes from Old Germanic, where ‘ald’ meant ‘strong’ and ‘win’ meant ‘friend.’ So an Alduino is a ‘strong friend.’”
“How do you know this?” she asked.
How did I know that? I asked myself. I never studied names that much before, so what’s
going on here?
Trust yourself, Nathan-Prime sent. You will find the way to the truth eventually. Perhaps it is your memory returning to you. Perhaps it is something far greater.
“I am a Sentinel,” I said. “That means I am under the protection of God Himself. He is always watching out for me and can give me hidden insight into things that I might not know if I need them to help others. He can even use other people like yourself to help make me realize how important my mission really is.”
“I’m not important,” Dorothy said.
“Yes, you are. Your name told me so. You see, Dorothy, names have power—more than people ever give them credit for. Do you know what my name means?”
“No.”
“If you stretch it out, my name can mean ‘great dark/light son of life aided by God.’ When I was young, I thought my name was ridiculous. All that fluff to have a long chain of meaningful meanings. But now I understand the importance of names. My parents gave mine to me because they knew I needed to use my abilities to help others and that God would be my protector and defender, just like your parents did.”
“You didn’t know my parents.”
“No, but I can see their care for you, because of your name. Whether they know it or not, parents have a responsibility to care for their children’s spiritual standing and a part of that is giving them a good name, one that will help their child figure themselves out. They recognized the fact that you were a gift of God and named you accordingly so that you would be a further gift to others. They saw a noble spirit in you and named you ‘defender,’ so that you would never cease protecting your fellow man. You are strong, whether you know it or not.”
“I—I am?”
“Of course you are. Search yourself, Dorothy, and know the truth.”
I approached her and she remained still. Seeing the opportunity, I moved to her.
“I know how it feels to be hurting—to think that there’s no way you could ever escape it, but I promise you, Dorothy—I promise you that it doesn’t always have to be this way. I am going to stop Zoë and free this city from the Sanguine Collective. But I can’t do it alone. I need your help.”
