by Daniel Caet
The days passed and were replaced by the weeks, and these by the months. In that hidden paradise of happiness we lived behaving almost like the family we pretended to be. As Helel had predicted, the villagers welcomed us with an excessive joy. Somehow, seeing that the new tenants were women, so opposed to the terrible lord of the house, and that there were children running through the gardens of the mansion, gave us an air of normality that made them feel less threatened. Isobel soon won the hearts of those men and women who saw in the little mute girl the immense heart that filled her chest and her actions. Oswald, on the other hand, grew healthy and fast and filled me with a happiness I had never felt before. Eleanor never talked about her time in prison. If she had any kind of remorse or guilt for what had happened, she never said so. Instead, she struggled every day to be the perfect mother for Isobel who corresponded her with an unconditional love. It was as if everyone's wounds were closing little by little, and we could all be much more ourselves no matter the blood we carried.
But I knew that this was a dream that could not last and that sooner or later we would have to leave there for our own good and that of those around us. In the months that had elapsed since our arrival, Helel had not spoken at any time of our agreement and had not even touched on the subject, but we both knew that this was a debt I could not avoid paying. The fact that he didn't talk about it only made the situation much more uncomfortable. I knew that Helel needed my help, I knew that maybe that wasn't the only reason he had helped us, but I knew that deep down he expected me to correspond him.
Finally one night in early autumn, when we were gathered around the fire of the great dining room of the house, it was time to settle our debts and this time it was me who put the subject on the table. Helel had been absent for several days, something he had done several times since he had taken us to the house, and that none of us had ever questioned, but since his return two days before he had been especially downcast, as if something worried him intensely.
“Why haven't you asked me yet to fulfil my part of the agreement for Eleanor's release?” I snapped, breaking the silence and causing Eleanor and Isobel to lift their heads as if they had thrown a jug of cold water on their heads.
Helel looked at me a second before answering as if he were weighing the best answer.
“Because I want you to help me because you want to do it, not because you feel you owe me,” he replied with a half smile.
“You know well that I don't want to do it, so your only option is I do it because I should, it's ridiculous to postpone it anymore,” I replied, getting up from my seat. “I don't know what you expect to find, but I will keep my promise. And tomorrow we will leave here!”
“You don't have to go anywhere, Sadith!”
“Yes, we do have to leave, Helel. You still don't understand that every minute by your side puts us in danger. Playing the happy family has been very good, and even I thought for a second that it was true, but here we all know that you have too many enemies, and not everyone in this family is immortal. For our safety, for that of your children, we must stay away from you.”
My mind was waiting for some kind of reply, but the silence caught me by surprise. I received no more response than his deep green eyes looking at me with sorrow, a shame I could not interpret.
“Very well, if that's how you want it to go,” he replied without moving from his seat.
“I must warn you, Helel, whatever it is that you want me to find, it is possible that my vision is not powerful enough to show you a future that is too far away to be clear. It's easy with humans who have a limited life expectancy, but that rule doesn't apply to you, at least as far as we know.”
“It's not the future that I want you to show me with your vision, but the past,” he said, puzzling me. “Some years ago someone took something from me. I don't know who that person was, but I need to know what he did with what he took from me.”
“When did it happen?”
“About fourteen hundred years ago.”
“What? Helel, you are crazy! Even I am not sure that my vision can go so far. Even if I could see something, they are probably only pieces of reality, fragments that may not make sense.”
“I only ask you to try at least.” I beg you!
“I don't leave debts unpaid,” I said seriously. "I will do what I can, but you must accept the risks, I don't know if I will know how to help you.”
“I understand and accept the limitations.”
“So be it, then. Eleanor, Isobel, come here please!” The woman and the little girl approached fearful of what I could propose. “I need you to help me with this. If you give me your hands, I can probably channel your power and get a clearer picture.”
“But, mother, I don't have any power,” Eleanor replied.
“Your power lives in your blood Eleanor, even though it has not manifested itself in an obvious way. You belong to a line of women with wonderful gifts and those gifts live in your blood as they were in your mother's and are in your daughter’s,” I explained, taking her hand gently. I held out the other hand to little Isobel who grabbed it immediately. “Will you help me so Helel can see better?” The girl nodded, smiling, perfectly understanding what I meant. “We're ready, tell me what to look for.”
“The object was taken from me on the island of Capri, in the palace of Emperor Tiberius. If you allow me, I can introduce the last memory in your mind to use as a starting point.”
“Go ahead.” Immediately the image formed in my mind and thanks to the power of Isobel it materialised around us as clear and crisp as the reality itself. I could see Helel looking at the window of the room he was in and through which a hooded figure slipped away. I could feel Helel's rage, his helplessness when the figure jumped out.
“That's the thief, follow him, Sadith, I need to know where he went!” he screamed.
I concentrated as much as I could to follow the hooded figure that now ran along a dirt road towards the beach carrying some package. We could hear his breathing, his heart beating fast, not for fear but for excitement. The hood fell off in the race and we could see the thief's face. He was a very young boy, about fifteen or sixteen, with dark blond hair and big brown eyes that stood out on his face. The boy continued his run without stopping until he reached a small beach, just a cove, at the foot of the palace. We could hear the noise of the waves that were delivered to die in the sand, we could even smell the saltpeter that permeated the air mixed with the smell of the seaweed that dried in the sand. Suddenly a voice called him by his name.
“Asur!” The blood froze in my veins upon hearing that unmistakable singing voice, and my eyes immediately turned to Helel to see that he had also recognised her just before Isobel showed us her face. In front of us, exactly as I remembered her, without having aged a moment, was my sister Liliath. I watched as Helel's fists twitched until the color disappeared from his knuckles, and somehow I knew that he had just confirmed something he had always suspected.
“Has anyone seen you?” asked Liliath.
“He was there, he saw me run away. But he couldn't reach me. There was no trace of my father, I think he got rid of him as you predicted, mother,” the boy replied as he handed the package to Liliath who began to open it slowly until it showed its contents, a sword of an indescribable beauty and bright as the light of Moon.
“I knew Helel wouldn't let me down on that, he's too predictable. But don't let your guard down, my son, I'm afraid that, if I know him a little, he won't give up on his effort to find us, even if it costs him his eternity.”
“In that case, so be it. I will be prepared, mother!”
That last word echoed in the room catching both Helel and me by surprise, but Helel didn't show the slightest emotion. His eyes, fixed on Liliath's face, were only filled with anger and hatred. A second later he turned to look at me, without saying a word, just looking at me as if asking me to understand. A second later, he was no longer there. It wasn't until many years later that I learned that my he
lp had put him back on Liliath's track, but it took him a long time to find her, and when he did, it wasn't for good; but that is another story.
For our part, Eleanor, Isobel, my little Oswald and I left the house the next day as I had promised and took refuge in different countries of what is now Europe, always on the move, with the same goal I had always had, to make sure that Helel's children were safe.»
When Sadith finished her story, she probably expected some response from Becca, but she couldn't say a word. She could not stop looking at that woman who seemed to Becca the prettiest she had ever met and think about how much she had sacrificed by taking on a responsibility that did not belong to her. That woman had looked after generations of those whom she called the children of Helel without asking for anything in return, and therefore she had sacrificed her entire life, her own mortality.
“I'm not a saint, Becca!” she said reading her thoughts irritating Becca slightly. “We all have lights and shadows.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure dear, go ahead.”
“For all these centuries you have kept the direct descendants of Helel by your side, you did it with Ankh, with Eleanor, Isobel and with so many others.”
“And you wonder why I let you away from me, right?” said Sadith, interrupting her.
“The truth is I do. I guess the loneliness you condemned me to makes me feel bitter and I'm sorry, but I'm not able to understand it. I was only four years old.”
“I know, and you should not apologise for feeling bitter, you are in your right. You're correct, with you it was different, but your situation was also different.”
“Different, why? I was an unprotected girl whom you decided to remove from your side. For the first time you did not keep your promise to do what was necessary to protect Helel’s children, and I am sure that something very important should have made you choose that path. I want to know why. I need to know why. I need to know that the hatred I have felt all these years towards the parents that I thought had died leaving me alone, towards the family that never looked for me, is unfounded.”
“I can't explain why, Becca, I'm not the right person. I think that is a question that should be answered by a single person in this world, your mother.”
The word rang in Becca's ears, and it stuck in her brain causing her a very physical pain, the pain of not wanting to understand what Sadith was suggesting.
“How?” It was the only thing Becca ventured to say.
“I know this will confuse you even more, Becca, and I need you to be as calm as possible and listen to me with attention,” Sadith replied, holding her hands. “Your mother, your true mother, is alive, she never died as we made you believe, at least not for everyone. Your mother decided to get away from your life so as not to put yourself in danger, and the only way to make sure it would be like that was to convince the world of her death, and that, unfortunately, should include you.”
“No! It cannot be! You're lying to me! No one can be so cruel. There can be no one in this world with such a hard heart. I refuse to believe that while I drowned in my own ghosts and fears, my mother, whom I believed dead, was perfectly alive and healthy but did not even consider that I could be better by her side than I was alone. You have to be lying to me!” said Becca, raising her voice.
“No, I'm not lying to you, Becca, but there's a lot you don't know and can't understand. I ask you please do not lose your temper until you can talk to her, and she have the chance to tell you everything you need to know.”
“Talk? Is she here in Paris?” Becca's disbelief was increasing along with her rage.
“No, she's not. But I want to propose that we go to meet her. I know you have wondered why Helel has been sending you those books, what he may want from you. I don't have an answer for it, but I suspect your mother may have some of the pieces in this puzzle.”
“Where is she?”
“Your mother lives in Romania, many years ago she retired to live there in a remote area in the Carpathians. It won't be easy to get there, but I think it's a trip you need to take.”
“A second ago I thought I felt sorry for you, for everything you had done for this family and what you had to sacrifice, but I don't know what to think anymore, Sadith” said Becca with clear disgust rising from the bank. “I don't know who my mother is or if I look something like her or not, or if I am anything like you, maybe, but if so, I hope life gives me some more heart than you two to not play with those ones I must love.”
“I don't expect you to understand me right now, Becca, nobody can ask you that, I just ask you to trust me for a while until I can take you to your mother and you can get your own idea about whether your life has a sense or not. Please.”
Becca wanted to say no, to tell her to go to hell and leave her alone, but she knew she couldn't do it. The possibility of meeting her mother and asking for explanations was too strong to say no. She needed to talk to her. Shout to her that she hated her and that there was no possible explanation for what she had done, telling her she was better than her; so without conviction and with more fear than she dared to recognise, Becca nodded.
“Thank you, it's much more than I probably deserve,” she said as she rose from the bench where they were sitting with the intention of leaving. “Just one more thing, Becca. That comment regarding the women of this family is somewhat unfair, if we seem cruel to you, wait until you meet the men!”
With a half smile the woman took two steps and crossed with a man who was heading towards Becca who did not initially look at the face of who was approaching. But a couple of phrases from the conversation between Sadith and the man made Becca lift her head suddenly.
“Oswald, be kind, please, you deserve what she wants to do to you!” said the woman.
“Thank you for your support, mother" the voice replied sarcastically, a voice that Becca recognised right away long before she lifted her head.
“Oh no! Are you fucking joking with me?” she shouted when she saw Eustace approach as he moved away in the opposite direction from Sadith.
“Becca, wait, I beg you!” he said as he grabbed her hand, holding her.
“I am not waiting for anything,” Becca shrieked as she tried to shake off his arm. “Leave me, I tell you!”
“No, I won't until you hear me!”
“Hear what? Who? My god, I don't even know your name. Are you Eustace, the butler who fucks with his mistress, or Oswald, the tell-tale son of the witch of a thousand years? Because that's the reason you were in the house, right? To control me and inform your mother. But who do you think I am?”
“Do you want to calm down?”
“I do not want to!” she replied, still shaking. “And leave me alone, pimp!”
Eustace started laughing out loud. But he didn't loose his grab in the slightest.
“That word had not been heard in years, it doesn't suit you to be so old.”
“Well, here the old one seems to be you. You forgot to tell me that I was fucking an old man. In fact I am surprised that you were able to put it up. How old are you? One thousand years?”
“You know perfectly well how old I am,” said the man, letting go of the grab and feeling hurt. “Look, I've just come to apologise. It didn't seem fair to hide who I was after what we had shared the other night. I am aware that I should not have left without giving any explanation, but I was overwhelmed by what you would think of me when you found out who I was, and I ran away. I just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry.”
“Sorry for what, exactly? Not having told me your real name, spying on my unknown aunt’s behalf, not telling me that you are older than Methuselah or having forgotten to tell me all that before fucking me?”
“Is that what it was for you?” Eustace asked with a shame that surprised Becca for a second.
“Evidently, what else was it going to be?”
“Is it so difficult for you to believe that someone is attracted to you? That I can feel something for you?”
“Let's see Eustace, Oswald or whatever your name is. We were drunk as vats and ended up fucking in a hotel room, it is the argument of eighty percent of television dramas, nothing that does not happen every day in the world. You were not the first nor will you be the last,” Becca lied.
“I see,” Eustace replied very seriously and stretching as if he had been hit with a stick. “Then we have nothing left to talk about, I see that I was wrong to think that you would be offended.”
“Not at all, so you can go back to Mommy.”
Eustace turned without even looking at her and stomped off leaving Becca alone and feeling absolutely miserable, but biting her lips so as not to burst into tears of rage. She just wanted to go back to her hotel and hide under the blankets to forget everything and everyone, but she did not intend to leave the cemetery through the same door as her aunt and the butler, so she turned in the opposite direction and with all her misery on, she went in search of another way out of there.
Her mind circled the same idea as she searched for a way out between the graves. They had abandoned her. All the wounds generated by her loneliness, the lack of arms to take refuge in or simply someone to turn to, hurt as if someone had thrown salt on them now that she knew part of her family's history. A story that, beyond death, selfishness and betrayal, had a reason for being in the acts of Sadith, a unique goal that was to take care of her family. A family, from which she had been excluded.
The fire generated by the rage that sparked that idea made her barely feel the first impact even though it threw her on the gravel floor of the cemetery displacing her several meters. She didn't have time to stand up before the second blow hit her in the face, and she noticed how a warm liquid began to spill across it. She opened her eyes as she could, and what she found in front of her terrified her forcing her to recline on the wall behind her looking for a non-existent way to escape. The creature in front of her had blood-red eyes and her body reminded of some kind of reptile. It had two black wings covered with feathers and the claws were long like knives. Without giving her time to see anything else, the creature pounced on her again, throwing one blow after another with her claws without Becca being able to do anything to defend herself. She placed her hands on her face in a reflex act to protect her eyes, but she could feel the cuts that the creature inflicted on her entire body. Suddenly, an idea arose like a spark in her head. The creature was ending her life. She could tell how her forces were running out, how her body gave up and abandoned all hope. Her body wanted to die, to end all suffering. As if that idea had opened the doors of something hidden for too long, a shy, almost imperceptible flame ignited inside. A voice accompanied the flame, a voice that shouted at her that she could not surrender, that the blood that ran through her veins would not allow it, that she was the very fire of hell and her destiny was to destroy the world into ashes. As if it were an enchantment, the flame immediately began to grow into a fire that she knew very well, a fire capable of destroying everything in its path, a fire she had denied, but now she was willing to embrace with all her strength. And as if the fire could feel and understand her, the flames hugged her body and spread from her in all directions with a rumble that drowned out a single sound, the cries of terror and pain of the creature as it was consumed to ashes. That was the last image that Becca could see before the strength of her body disappeared completely and her mind plunged into immense darkness. But this time the darkness did not scare her nor was it a threat, this time the darkness was her friend, the darkness was herself.
