As Elijah’s arm quickly healed, he stuck his sword in the ground and untied the side of his cuirass before sliding it over his head.
“I agree. Let us make this a bit more interesting. The result will be the same, either way.” William removed his armor and stepped towards Elijah as he sliced his sword downward from his right.
Elijah deflected William’s sword and then backhanded him across the face. William stumbled backwards a bit, but quickly gathered himself.
Again William lunged, keeping Elijah on the defensive. The blow was deflected, but William quickly spun and backhanded Elijah hard, knocking him back against the fountain. William chopped down, forcing Elijah to lean back over the fountain while he blocked William’s sword. Their swords were locked as the two immortals stood face to face. Elijah’s eyes burned hotter. Like engulfing flames, they shone in opposition to William’s icy blue.
“I still sometimes dream about snapping your little brother’s neck, and how easy it was. I remember his dead eyes; it was beautiful.” William grinned, delighted to see the effect of his words on Elijah’s face. His targeted taunt had met its mark and fulfilled its purpose.
At that moment, Elijah was undone. He let go, and a tidal wave of emotion surged, crashing through all of his walls and barriers. They went smashing to the ground, leaving him bare, standing at the brink of oblivion. His expanding rage erupted and powered him with an unholy fury, focused towards annihilation.
Elijah kneed William hard in his midsection. As William stumbled, Elijah leaned further back over the fountain and kicked his father hard in the chest, sending him crashing against the stairwell.
Dawn seemed to break in Elijah’s eyes as they burned with the fierceness and color of the sun. His aching bones drove him to the ground. As he fell to his knees, he rammed his sword into the dirt, then picked up a handful of parched earth and rubbed it between his hands. The world seemed to be moving in slow motion as he rose to his feet; grains of sand seemed to fall from his hands one at a time as he stood and dropped them to his side, clasping the hilt of his sword. He twirled the sword in his left hand before switching to his right and continuing towards his father, who was already on his feet.
“That’s more like it, Son,” William smiled.
Elijah stalked forward, swinging his blade furiously. William deflected every blow, and Elijah kicked him once more; he fell hard against the cracking stairwell.
“I like your eyes,” William said as he pushed himself upright with his arms and waited for Elijah to attack again.
As he hurried forward, Elijah saw William’s eyes begin to glow brighter. Elijah swung the sword to his left, but William quickly stepped forward and grabbed his wrist, stopping his arm mid-swing. With his free hand, William grabbed Elijah’s neck and lifted him high off the ground before slamming him down on his back with great force, knocking the sword loose from his hand. As he hit the ground, Elijah elbowed William hard in the side, forcing him flat on his back.
Elijah reached for his sword as William fell, but it was just out of reach. William rolled over, hacking his sword down towards Elijah’s chest. Elijah shoved himself out of the way just in time to see William’s sword plant into the sand.
Elijah quickly stretched and reached again for his sword, but just as he touched it, a searing pain tore through his back. He looked over his shoulder and was surprised to see William’s sword still planted in the sand.
“Stupid boy!” William’s voice was echoing behind him.
“Ahhhhhhh!” Elijah cried out as another searing pain erupted in his back. Suddenly there were hands on his shoulders and back; someone was rolling him onto his back. Drops of blood crashed against his chest as his back hit the ground; he saw William’s face and bloody dagger looming just above his chest. Again and again William rammed the knife through Elijah’s chest and neck.
“Filet him and drain him of blood. Then crucify him on the prow of the fleet flagship heading for Japan. Keep his wounds open; make sure he does not heal.” William’s voice seemed miles away, but a blurry figure still hovered above Elijah for a moment. Then it was gone.
“I am sorry, Elijah, but I told you that you weren’t ready.” It was Hulagu’s voice, and the last thing he heard.
Chapter 63
“Crrrrrr-ack!” Elijah was jerked awake by a bolt of lightning. All he could see were dark, raging waters, whose crashing waves battered against him again and again. He tried to move, but couldn’t, as if he was stuck in a vat of thick mud. Mustering all his strength, he looked to his left and then to his right; his hands and arms were nailed into the wood behind him. He had been sliced open from wrist to elbow, and his wounds were tacked open to keep them from healing. He saw others crucified alongside him, but they looked dead. He continued struggling to no avail; he was too weak.
“Okay, it’s time.” Elijah heard a familiar voice above him. He saw a rope fall from the deck and watched a cloaked figure climb down. “Stupid boy!” the figure scolded as it removed its hood.
“Ayda? How…? What are you doing here?” Elijah mumbled.
“I’m saving your life. Now be quiet. Are you ready?” Ayda asked brusquely.
Elijah nodded the best he could as she grabbed his wrist. “You need to leave, right now. They are looking for you… going to kill you,” Elijah croaked as he moved his arm weakly, trying to shake loose from her grip.
“You listen to me. You are right; I am taking a big chance, believing in you. But we can discuss this later. Half the ships have already sunk in this storm; this is our best chance.” Ayda whispered as she pulled Elijah’s left arm free.
“Our chance for what?” Elijah asked, barely able to speak.
“Our chance to escape.” Ayda replied as she reached down and pulled his feet through the nails holding them in place.
“Escape where? Land is too far away; I don’t have the strength to swim,” Elijah admitted as Ayda pulled his last hand free and caught him by the chest as he fell.
“Just try to hold on.” She threw his left arm around her shoulder and jumped into the raging sea.
Elijah continued to phase in and out of consciousness, the relentless cold and pummeling waves reviving him and then smashing him back under countless times.
His body, landing hard and then scraping against the sand, finally waked him fully. “Ayda?” Elijah’s voice was still weak and his vision blurry. Out of nowhere, a fist smashed against his face and once again he was lost in darkness.
Chapter 64
Elijah sat up coughing when icy water once again invaded his mouth and nose.
“Wake up!” Ayda shouted as she soaked him with another bucket of water.
Elijah shook his head, hard, trying to clear his mind while also examining his surroundings. He was in some sort of primitive dwelling, much like the one where his family had lived before moving to the castle.
“I saved your life?” Elijah asked. Ayda’s brows lifted haughtily as she dropped the bucket.
“No, I saved your life. You arrogant—” she began.
“Stop; I have heard it before.” Elijah held up his hand. “And my father? What happened to him?” he asked as Ayda handed him a cup of water.
“Don’t worry; he is thousands of miles away,” she said.
Elijah examined his body, which was beginning to heal, and then sighed and closed his eyes as he leaned back. “No! I must find him!” Elijah attempted to leap to his feet. “Ahh!” he shouted and grabbed his chest.
“You can’t; you’re not even healed yet. You need to rest, and even if you were healthy, you are still not ready,” Ayda raised her voice when he tried to interrupt.
Elijah’s last clear memory hit him like a hammer between the eyes; even with all of Elijah’s strength, his father had still beaten him. He didn’t understand why he had been unable defeat his father, but he had to try again.
“Thank you for your help, but you do not understand. This is all I have; nothing else matters.” Elijah slowly rose to his feet.<
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“Listen, I can help you, but you must give me time,” Ayda said as she grabbed his arm and helped him to a chair.
“Help me? How could you possibly help me?” Elijah looked at the table in front of him and then up at Ayda.
“I brought you here, didn’t I? From more than a mile out to sea. I just might surprise you,” she said with a slight smile. “You won’t need long to heal. Just give me a few days, and if you still want to leave, I won’t stand in your way,” she said as she tossed Elijah a piece of fruit. He ate one and then another, and then another.
“What kind of sword is that?” Elijah pointed at the sword he had first seen in her tent back at camp.
“That is not just a sword. It is a katana. It is the weapon of the Samurai, whose way of life I have grown to deeply respect.” She picked it up and gently caressed the blade. “Rest now; we will begin in the morning.”
Chapter 65
“Hold the sword with two hands!” Ayda shouted.
“This is fucking ridiculous; I am fighting the air. It’s a waste of my time. I’m sorry; I have to go.” Elijah dropped the blade and began walking toward the path leading through the mountains to the east. “Where are the horses?” Elijah stopped and scanned the landscape.
“What horses?” she shrugged.
“The horses we rode here. I distinctly remember galloping,” Elijah answered as he turned to face her, the sound now clear in his mind.
“You were dreaming; now pick up the sword,” she demanded.
“No, thank you for all the help, but this is pointless.” Elijah continued on the path.
“Stop!” Ayda shouted, and he did. “Fight me, right now,” she urged. “If you can beat me, then you may leave.” She picked up the katana and threw it to Elijah.
“I appreciate all you have done. And I don’t want to kill you; you don’t even have another sword.” Elijah looked at the sword for a moment and then at Ayda. He had missed her when she left him, and he knew he would miss her again, but he had to leave. Killing his father meant everything.
“I don’t need one,” she said as she stepped closer.
“You might think you know me, but you don’t. I will kill you without a second thought; I have killed hundreds of innocents, women and children included.” Elijah raised the sword.
“Show me,” she pressed.
“If you insist.” Elijah quickly stepped forward and brought the katana chopping down towards her neck. In an instant his hand was frozen in midair. Her back was against his chest and her right arm around the back of his neck. Leaning forward, she slung him over her shoulder and onto the ground.
He leapt to his feet immediately, lunging forward with the blade, but Ayda spun to escape it. She trapped his wrist under her right arm, and with her left palm she struck the back of his elbow hard, snapping it. Letting go of his wrist, she struck him once more in the back and sent him crashing to the ground once again.
“Stop playing with me, Elijah! Really fight! ” she yelled.
“You are crazy if you think I’m going to kill you,” he said.
Picking up the sword, Ayda stalked towards Elijah’s broken body with purpose. When he rolled to his back, the katana was already at his neck.
“Are you ready to learn now, or are you going to continue to act like a stubborn child?”
Elijah snapped his arm back into place and pushed himself upright. Grabbing the sword’s blade, Elijah pulled her closer, forcing the blade through his shoulder. Once he had pulled her close enough, he grabbed her throat with his right hand and pushed himself forward until he landed on top of her.
“Do you yield?” he shouted as he squeezed her neck harder and harder. Pushing up with her hips, Ayda flipped Elijah onto his back and rolled on top of him. Quickly pulling the sword from Elijah’s shoulder, she pressed the sharp blade hard against his neck.
“I’m not sure what you are or how to kill you, but I bet severing your head will work.” She pressed the blade harder against his neck until blood began to pour.
“Maybe, maybe not. Let’s try it and find out.” Elijah grabbed the blade and pulled hard until it sank more than an inch into his neck.
“You are crazy!” she shouted as she jumped to her feet with the sword. Elijah lay on the ground for few moments until the wound healed and then pushed to his feet.
“Do you still not understand?” Elijah asked, wiping the blood from his neck. “I have longed for death for as long as I can remember. The only reason I am still alive is hate. I need to kill my father. Then I’ll be happy to kill myself.” Elijah turned and walked once more towards the path.
“Wait, Elijah. I can help you. You are not lacking in strength or in skill. It is your discipline. You are a volcano of emotion, and that eruption of emotion is what gets in your way. It makes you careless and vulnerable, especially when you are fighting an adversary who cares for nothing.” She laid her sword on the ground and walked towards him. “I can teach you the control you need; I can teach you to find your center.” Racing up to him, she stopped and gently placed her hand on his bare chest.
“You mean to be detached, without desire, like Arjuna?” He tried to walk around her, but she stepped to the side and blocked him once more.
“Yes and no. That is a good example, but you have misunderstood Arjuna. He was filled with emotion and conflict; he was torn apart by some of the things Krishna asked him to do, like killing his own family,” she said.
“Like my father. I have no respect for anyone who would kill their own family.”
“No, not like your father. Arjuna was doing what he thought was right, what his god wanted him to do,” Ayda insisted, pressing harder against his chest.
“I have seen too many people do evil in the name of their god. It is still just as evil, even if they truly believe it is the will of their god.” Elijah’s voice was now just a whisper.
“The point is, Arjuna had no magic way to turn off his emotions; he simply controlled them. Once he made up his mind about what he needed to do, he put everything else aside and focused on the task at hand, one action after another. Actually, the principles in the story of Arjuna, and in Hinduism in general, are foundations of the principles of Buddhism and for the Samurai Code.” She placed her hands on Elijah’s shoulders. “I can help you if you will let me.”
He was silent for a few moments as he stared at Ayda, trying to figure her out.
“Okay, but first tell me about what you took from the library in Baghdad, the piece of parchment my father wants so badly.” Elijah couldn’t take his eyes off her; even here, far from civilization, and in the midst of his chaos, her beauty confounded him. He leaned forward to kiss her; she closed her eyes as their lips touched, but then turned her head and pushed him away.
“We can’t do that; it’s not why we are here. And I’m sorry, Elijah, but I cannot tell you about the library, either.” She took a deep breath after she spoke; her voice was stern but apologetic. Her eyes shifted to her feet as she dropped her head slightly.
“I don’t even know what you are; why would I trust you?” he asked as he tipped his head to look into her eyes. He hoped to see something that would give her away, but she was well guarded.
Ayda stared at the ground for a moment longer and then lifted her face to look at him. “Because I’ve only ever tried to help you.”
Chapter 66
“The katana is a weapon of control. Once you can control the katana and master the katas, you will be able to master your emotions.” Ayda slowly unwrapped the silk from around her blade and handed it to Elijah.
She didn’t know why, but she was determined to help him. She was convinced he was special, important somehow. She worked with him every day, and every day they grew closer. Elijah spent years with her among the snowy mountain peaks, where they found solace in each other’s company and distance from worldly cares.
His time was spent meditating and mastering control and discipline through the precise and intentional movements of
the katas. Nothing was free or spontaneous; his hard-handed teacher had an ever-watchful eye that directed his every move. Every lunge, every slice, every step was choreographed as if he were the star in some lonely ballet.
“Slow down!” Ayda screamed. Elijah knew what was coming next, the fierce lash of a carefully braided leather training whip.
He had spent his life unleashing the rage he held just slightly beneath his skin; he believed it had kept him alive. “Why am I doing this? I am not going to need to move slowly when I kill my father,” he moaned under his breath at the sting of the whip.
“I have told you countless times, Elijah, it is not your speed, or your strength, or your skill that are lacking; it is your discipline. Performing the katas will fill that void, giving you the control you need.” She snapped the whip once more; Elijah glared at her for a moment, huffed, and then resumed dancing with his sword.
Eventually, he discovered a sort of peace in the hollowness of his mind as he sat motionless on that snowy mountain ridge for months at a time, or as he spent days practicing his katas. However, it was not a lasting peace; it faded every time he left that comfortable vacuum. As the years passed and Ayda’s guard slowly fell, he began to notice hope fading from her eyes. Every time he looked at this woman he cared for so deeply he saw a growing disappointment and sense of failure.
“I’m not making any progress.” Elijah spoke over the table as they ate dinner. “Even now, all I can think about is my father and my family, about revenge.” Elijah rubbed his forehead.
“I know, and until you can find a way to forget about revenge, forget about yourself, your brother, and your father, you have no hope. You cannot win this battle with hate in your heart.” Ayda rose from her chair. “I’m going to lie down,” she said as she turned toward her bedroom. As she was turning, Elijah caught her hand and pulled her back.
Apotheosis of the Immortal Page 25
