Apotheosis of the Immortal

by Joshua A. Chaudry

  “Why would you be sorry? You weren’t there; you didn’t sit idly by, looking into my little brother’s eyes while my father snapped his neck.” He closed his eyes, and that entire night seemed to flash through his mind, sudden and complete as a bolt of lightning. The conversation was beginning to stir up old, dangerous feelings, feelings Elijah had attempted to bury over and over again.

  “I just meant I’m sad you had to… to endure such pain and loss,” she explained.

  Elijah didn’t want to hurt her, but anger and frustration were reaching the outer edges of his composure.

  “And what exactly would you know about either one? You’re just a silly girl looking to be entertained,” he growled, his emotions beginning to boil over.

  “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to upset you.” Emira’s eyes were wide with shock. The sudden shifts in his demeanor were making her nervous.

  “Do you have any idea what you’ve gotten yourself into? How you’ve complicated things for me?” he demanded. Her questions had brought to the surface all of Elijah’s old memories and griefs. He didn’t know what to do with them, how to force them back into the dark corners of his psyche.

  “I know I’ve caused you grief. You had one goal in life, a single-minded purpose, allowing nothing to get in the way. I know you hurt, and I know I may have complicated your plan, but I didn’t mean to.” She paused for a moment and took a deep breath. “But don’t walk around pretending you are the only one who has ever been hurt. I have also experienced pain… and loss.”

  Elijah could see tears welling in her eyes.

  “I was only eight years old,” she said, “when the Army of the Republika Srpska marched into our village. Mother hid me in the cupboard just before five soldiers broke through our door. I could see through a crack in the cupboard door. Two men held my mother down and another one raped her. My father tried to stop them, but there was nothing he could do. The other two men tied him to a chair and forced him to watch as they took turns with her.” Tears began to leak from the corners of her eyes as she spoke.

  “When the soldiers were finished, they spat on her and called her a whore. They were laughing and joking as they hacked at my father with a machete for fun, or maybe they just didn’t want to waste a bullet. I did nothing. I sat quietly and looked into my father’s eyes. He held my gaze as long as he could, until life vanished from his eyes.”

  “Now it’s my turn to apologize, Emira. You don’t have to tell me this.” Elijah’s folly now filled him with guilt and sympathy. He stepped closer and reached out for her, but she backed away.

  “Just listen,” she demanded, taking another step back as she wiped her eyes. “When the soldiers left, my mother took a small knife out of a drawer in the kitchen and jammed it into her neck twice. She was dead in seconds, but I know it wasn’t the knife or the blood loss that killed her. It was those five faceless men who I wouldn’t recognize if they were sitting across the dining room table. It was the world, watching as I was, through a crack in the cupboard door, as General Mladic led his ethnic cleansing campaign, which had been underway for more than three years by the time my village was raided.”

  Elijah could hear the anger and frustration in her voice. He remained silent.

  “They were just a ragtag group of thugs; any real army in the world could have stopped them. It’s never what you can do, but what you are willing to do that matters. That is what you have Elijah, an absolutely unstoppable will. That is what’s so beautiful about you, and about the hero character in general.” As she spoke the last sentence, she stepped forward and pressed her index finger against Elijah’s chest.

  “Why do you keep saying that?” Elijah forced a laugh. “What is it in your wild imagination that paints me a hero?” He asked.

  “You remind me of my father; there is good in you, even if you refuse to acknowledge it. You have reserves of strength I can recognize because I’ve seen it all before—in my father. I have rested easy in the depths of his passionate commitment. It’s nothing supernatural or overtly noticeable. It’s much more than that; it goes much deeper… it’s… maybe it’s primal.

  “It’s a look of resolve a dying father gives to his daughter to comfort her in his last moments of life. It’s a determination and desire for justice that carries a man through thousands of miles and hundreds of years without losing an ounce of fervor. There are very few men with that kind of grit. I have to admit, when I heard your story I almost couldn’t believe it. I was blown away.” She laughed playfully and batted her eyelashes.

  Elijah was moved in spite of his determination to remain aloof; to realize someone had so much faith in him was inspiring. It made him want to be the man she imagined him to be. But, for her own good, for her safety, he could not encourage her interest in him, or allow her to continue believing in her fantasy that he was a good man.

  “There are a few things wrong with your story. First, I’m not good; I’m about as far from good as someone can be. Second, I haven’t traveled thousands of miles over hundreds of years for justice. I couldn’t care less about justice. I’ve come for blood, and vengeance.” Elijah closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Her words had touched him, but he was stubborn. Still, his regrets were mounting like ash from the hope and joy he had experienced from being with her. He realized now that, in his astounding selfishness and impulsivity, he had once again leapt to a conclusion based on his own cynical beliefs.

  “Well, sometimes, they are one in the same thing. And sometimes people on the outside of a situation have a much clearer perspective. If you were really so bad, we wouldn’t be in this situation right now.” She smiled wryly.

  “How do you know I’m not right where I want to be? How do you know you and Khalid are not my bait?” He knew he’d made his expression intimidating, piercing and vicious, but could also tell she wasn’t buying it.

  “I’ll take my chances,” she said. Her laugh sang the song of a siren once again as it compelled him forward, closer to her. “Read me the inscription on your pendant.” She pointed to the necklace that had worked its way from beneath his shirt.

  “This was my mother’s,” he said, lifting it up to admire it. He didn’t need to read it; he knew the words by heart. “‘Everything begins and ends with a will, and a purpose is only as strong as the will that propels it’.” He looked up to see her eyes tracing the circling words.

  “See, do you not think that pendant found you for a reason?” She smiled wide as she hesitantly touched the pendant. As she dropped her arm back to her side, the moonlight struck the coins on her necklace and Elijah was reminded of why he had taken such an interest in her in the first place. He decided he needed to tell her the entire truth about Sara.

  “Emira, I need to tell you about those coins.” He tucked the pendant back under his shirt and reached forward, rubbing his fingers against one of the coins on her necklace; it was lying at an angle against her prominent collarbone. A rush of memories filled his mind and he was overwhelmed; tears sprang into his eyes as he began to speak. His voice shook as he explained about Sara and the coins, about how much she had meant to him and why he was concerned that what he was feeling in his moments with her, Emira, might just be his feelings for Sara projected onto her.

  “I understand,” she said as she reached out and cupped the side of his face. Her empathy and demeanor took him aback. She might have been young and impulsive, but she risked a lot and seemed sure of her decisions despite the risk. She was brave, and Elijah admired her for it.

  He didn’t know if it was because of the coins, or the way her soft touch brought peace and ease to his mind, or if it was because he was so tired of being isolated and alone in his grief. But, for the first time since Sara had died, he completely dropped his guard, and he didn’t feel guilty about letting her come closer.

  “I’m truly sorry about before. I had no idea what you had been through. I just lose control sometimes.” Elijah rubbed his hand across hers, which was still nestled against his fa
ce, and then cupped it between his and held it at his waist.

  Her reply was poignant. “It’s okay, I’m just glad you are here with me now. I don’t want to lose you to that darkness that always seems to be lurking just below the surface.”

  “Yes, it’s definitely there.” He knew she was right. It was so easy to give into that vacuum. “That darkness is who I am, or who I’ve become. For nearly a millennium I have carried it and it has carried me. It has been my comfort and my strength.” Elijah gently tugged at her hand and started walking back towards the cabin.

  “You are wrong. Your true strength comes from somewhere much deeper, much more powerful.” Her conviction and her insights continued to confound and delight him. She had a passion to rival his own.

  “It’s all I’ve known—the pain, the struggle, the passion, the defeat, and the eventual victory that will end only in death… a tragic romance, indeed,” he spoke bitterly.

  The fire ahead of them seemed to grow larger and larger as they approached. Elijah could once again smell the smoke; it wasn’t so bad in small doses.

  “It just seems like it would be so tiresome to carry around that much hate,” she said. She was right. It was a terrible burden, but it was Elijah’s to bear, and he couldn’t let it go, not until he was finished. It fueled him.

  “How do you keep from hating? The men who murdered your family and the world that let it happen?” Elijah echoed her words back to her as he turned and looked into her eyes.

  “I couldn’t for a long time. I burned with hate and thoughts of vengeance, just like you do now. It was Khalid who taught me how to find peace, to let go of what I couldn’t change. He is truly a great man.

  “But don’t get me wrong,” she added, “I completely understand you. I gave up my hate partly because there was nothing I could do about it. I don’t even know what those men look like. In your case things are much different.” She spoke with a wisdom elusive among mortals and immortals alike. Beyond right and wrong, it spoke to the core elements of who he was and conferred a strange sense of peace and rightness.

  Elijah stomped out the fire and they walked back into the cabin. He felt good; he felt understood.

  Chapter 82

  Elijah slid open the fireplace. Before starting down the stairs, he wrapped his arm around Emira’s waist and turned, leaning his back against the wall beside the stairwell.

  “There is something else I can’t get off of my mind,” he admitted. His trouble connecting hadn’t completely vanished and he was feeling somewhat awkward now, as he spoke. She seemed to sense his uneasiness and placed calming hands flat against his chest. He could feel his heartbeat thundering against them, but her touch was soothing. And his heart rate began to slow as he was once again swept away in the calming tide of her aura.

  “Please tell me; I want to help you, Elijah.” She stepped closer and leaned her right ear against his chest.

  “It’s what my brother said. I am confused about what I should do for the first time in my immortal life,” he confessed as he rubbed her shoulders and gently pushed her back.

  She stood quietly; her eyes encouraged him to continue.

  “My stubbornness tells me to ignore it and continue down this path; after all, I have spent so much time and energy to get here. But if I am honest with myself, and look at the situation through the new eyes my brother’s revelation has given me, I am no longer certain.” Releasing his grasp on her shoulders, Elijah pressed his hands against his face and then cupped them around hers.

  “You see, my brother was a great man,” he mused. “He was everything my family needed after my father left. He loved us. I know he did, and we loved him, fiercely.” As he spoke, Elijah could feel emotion stirring, rising to a boil within him and leaking into his voice.

  “We all looked up to him, even Mother. That is why this has been so confusing. My little brother was so young when William, our father, left, Solomon was the only father figure he ever really knew. I listened for hours sometimes as Solomon told our little brother… his name is Malaki… told him bedtime stories that went on and on as Malaki begged for more and more and more.” He paused for a moment and looked at her, noticing a faint smile steal across her face, and then realized her smile only mirrored his own; she was smiling back at him!

  “I entertained Malaki a lot of the time, since Solomon was always working, always taking care of things for the family. I loved Malaki and he loved me, but it was Solomon who made his face glow, and I know Solomon loved him just as much. I don’t know how bad he has become, but I finally know why, which has changed everything.” Elijah could feel a strange rush of excitement building.

  “What do you mean?” she asked. Her smile was now gone; confusion and fear seemed to have taken its place.

  “I don’t know if it was because of shock, or anger, or just my damned determined focus, but I didn’t take enough time to think about it earlier. The more I consider it, the more it makes sense. Solomon was never a monster; he was a loving man, so how could he change overnight? That is what has always haunted me.” The words seemed to tumble over each other, riding on waves of enthusiasm.

  “Elijah, he is a vampire; that changes a person,” she said warily. Concern and disapproval clouded her face as she spoke.

  Elijah could see she understood and didn’t like where he was going with this conversation, but it didn’t matter. He knew what he had to do.

  “Sara was a vampire, but it didn’t change who she was on the inside,” Elijah explained.

  “I don’t know, Elijah; I’m not sure what you are getting at. You told me she killed people, even children.” She was now stroking his neck and jaw, but retreated when the muscles in his face tightened and the soft curves she had been stroking transformed into rigid edges. He didn’t look at her; he clenched his jaw and closed his eyes. The space between them grew tense; it was obvious her comment had crossed a line.

  Elijah shook it off as he opened his eyes and looked at her. Her aura had shrunk; he could see she was apologetic.

  “He was telling the truth back there; my little brother is alive somewhere!” Elijah nearly shouted. A rush of joy overcame him as he finally said aloud what he had been almost afraid to believe. “But what do I do about it? I can’t follow in my brother’s footsteps and become another of my father’s pawns, just waiting and hoping William will release him eventually. I also can’t just charge off and kill them all, as has been my only plan and purpose for so long.”

  He looked at Emira to see her reaction. Her eyes were filled with empathy as she leaned against him once more.

  “You are the only person who can decide what you should do. Khalid and I will support whatever decision you make.” She rested her head against his chest again as she spoke. Elijah knew she was right. He wrapped his arms around her waist until she was tightly fitted against him. The gentle ebb and flow of her confidence was soothing, no matter how he pushed against her, she always found her way back. It compelled in him a desire to confide in someone again.

  Elijah thought about all the time he had spent being confused and angry. Perhaps he had been wrong about Solomon all along. He was still angry and still confused, but the situation seemed very different now. He had hope, hope nourished by this tiny gem of a girl, resting snug against his chest. Hope his little brother might still be alive, and hope the man he had looked up to in his youth might still deserve his trust and respect.

  “I need to speak with my brother. I have to try harder to get through to him.”

  “Are you sure?” she asked. She seemed shocked, and a bit clumsy, as Elijah led her down the steps and slid the huge stone back into its place.

  When they entered the basement of the cabin, they found Khalid leaning back on one of the huge couches, reading a book. He didn’t even look up as they entered the room.

  “Khalid, I need to talk to you.” Elijah’s tone was pleasant but austere.

  “Okay.” Khalid promptly set his book down on the couch, clasped his han
ds between his knees and looked up at Elijah.

  “I need to find my brother.” Elijah spoke emphatically, certain Khalid would object.

  “So I heard,” Khalid said. “You think your little brother might still be alive and you are willing to risk Emira’s life to find out.” His tone was viciously condemning.

  “No! Never! I wouldn’t risk harming her for any reason whatsoever, but if my little brother is still alive, it changes everything!”

  “Not for us. They still think I have something they want and they’ll kill us all for even a chance to get their hands on it.” Khalid leaned back and put his feet up on the table as he spoke.

  “What I am trying to tell you is, if my youngest brother is still alive and Solomon has only been following my father’s orders in the hopes of saving him, then Solomon may not be a monster at all. There is a chance I could convince him to work with me and find another way to save my little brother.” Elijah’s words, when he heard them spoken aloud, shook his confidence. Hope his plan would succeed seemed dim, even to him, but he wasn’t going to back down.

  Chapter 83

  “Do me this kindness first.” Khalid spoke in a calm voice and gestured his open hand towards the couch beside him. “Sit for a while and let me tell you some things you might not know about your family, and then, if you still want to go, I won’t object.” Khalid sounded sincere, and his willingness to compromise was a welcome surprise.

  “Sounds fair,” Elijah agreed. He knew he was asking for a lot of trust, and, between him and Khalid, there wasn’t much trust to spare. “But let me ask you something first,” he continued. “How did you know what I was when we first met?” he asked as he took a seat on the couch next to Khalid.

  “Well, according to you, I still don’t,” Khalid noted. Putting his feet on the ground, he sat up and rubbed his knees. His tone was sarcastic, but friendly enough.

  “I mean, how did you know I was different, immortal?” Elijah pressed as he leaned forward, mirroring Khalid’s own position. He was curious. The beastly man intrigued him; there was an air of mystery and wisdom about him.