by Laury Falter
Ezra stared at me, confused. “You were cut in fencing?” I had never told her, not wanting her to worry.
“Yeah, a while ago…” I replied, pulling out a chair at the table and avoiding her eyes, because I didn’t want to see the concern.
“Were you hurt?” Her voice was thick and filled with emotion.
“I was fine. It was no big deal,” I said and to avoid talking about it – because in reality the wound had left a small, thin scar along my torso - I stood back up to grab a cola from the refrigerator. Felix would be home soon to harangue me for it, but I didn’t care. “So what did The Warden say?”
“He told me what happened. And I told him that I would wait to hear your side of the story before making any judgments.”
“Thanks for that,” I told her with a smile. I continued, recounting my perspective but keeping out the part about Eran’s involvement. No need to go into explaining that whole thing. I did, however, tell her that I thought I saw Elam, the new professor, pour liquid down the drain just before the explosion.
“Did you mention Elam’s actions to Mr. Warden?” Her concern was clearly turning into agitation now.
“I didn’t bother. The Warden believes what he wants.”
She released an aggravated sigh, turning her head slightly away from me to shoot a dark look out the kitchen window.
“The fool,” she muttered. I was shocked. I had never heard Ezra utter a single negative word against another person.
Rufus and Felix came through the kitchen door and Ezra had me fill them in while she fixed dinner.
Rufus cursed The Warden in Gaelic while Felix paced the kitchen anxiously only stopping when Rufus snapped at him.
I didn’t want a fight breaking out on my behalf, so I said, “I’m more concerned about the others in my class. Some of them looked like they had been seriously injured.”
Felix was now sitting at the kitchen table, his right knee twitched at an incredible speed. He was staring at me, attentively. “So you believe this Elam fellow did it on purpose?”
Not wanting them to get any more involved than they were, I replied, “I can’t be sure.”
Rufus slammed his hand down on the table, startling everyone. “Stop shakin’ the bloody table,” he screamed at Felix. Turning to me, he growled, “I wanna pull his guts out through his nose…”
Though I appreciated the support, I immediately shook my head. “That’s not necessary.”
Ezra must have had the same sense I did, that Rufus wasn’t making a casual comment, because she said, “He’ll get what’s coming to him.” I noticed the look she gave me and the meaning behind it: move on from the conversation. I agreed, so I stood and pulled a wooden stirring spoon from the drawer. Rufus and Felix took the bait without hesitation, both jumping up and vehemently disagreeing with my participation in preparing dinner. It was now a standard joke in the household that I couldn’t cook and their expressions reflected the panic I hoped my insinuated actions would inspire.
Felix, instead, led me by my shoulders to the china pantry, opened the door for me, and motioned for me to do as I typically did. My boundaries in cooking were still limited to table setting and clean up.
Dinner was quicker than usual, and I was glad that we avoided dragging out the conversation on what happened at school, instead opting for making a decision on how to handle Christmas presents – the holiday being just two weeks away now. Instead of presents, we decided we’d celebrate with a reveillon menu, an old French holiday dining tradition. Given my inability to cook much of anything, I offered to buy and decorate a holiday tree which all of them happily agreed to.
This put me in a good mood, something I thought impossible after today at school. I even hummed a carol while I brushed my teeth, and I didn’t even think I knew any carols.
I was incredibly thankful for my three housemates, who were always there when I needed them and who allowed me to be there for them when they needed it. With Eran’s disappearance still leaving a hole in my heart, I couldn’t have asked for better people to be surrounded by.
Then I closed my door and turned off the lights and everything changed.
The quiet rekindled the emptiness I felt at losing Eran, and my heart ached because of it. I rolled over and watched the French doors from my pillow, remembering back to when Eran had come through them once before.
An idea occurred to me.
Eran had known back then, had sensed, that I needed to talk with him. If I tried just as hard now…maybe he would hear me again.
I concentrated on sending him an unspoken message, focusing on this effort for over an hour. I thought back, remembering the striking curves of his face, how he stood so confident, and the smirk he commonly displayed whenever he thought I was hopelessly irrational. The entire time I was using my emotions to call out to him and bring him back to me. In the end, the balcony door didn’t move once, not even an inch, and Eran never appeared.
I drifted to sleep, barely noticing the tears that rolled down and dampened my pillow.
A few moments later I woke up as I usually did, in the Hall of Records.
Though, I was immediately aware that the cold stone bench was not beneath me. I was being held.
Warm, firm arms were wrapped around me, comforting me.
“I heard you…I heard you…” Eran whispered in my ear, his voice trembling.
I moaned and sunk into his solid chest, sobs releasing from me and my body shaking against his.
“I needed you,” I mumbled against his chest, my breath uneven in my throat.
When he didn’t respond I lifted my head. His expression – so immersed in pain and guilt – did something I thought impossible. It cut an even deeper swath through the void in my chest, left in the aftermath of his disappearance.
“I was here for you, even when you couldn’t see me.” He leaned in, speaking against my forehead. “I was always here.”
I let my head drop, drawing in a shuddering gasp, unable to comprehend his words.
We sat there for an indescribable length of time, neither of us wanting to move apart. I could feel in him the need to hold me, to touch me, and I was too happy to move. His arms stayed wrapped around me; his soft, sweet breath brushing my neck.
“How is your hip healing?” he whispered into my hair, tickling the back of my neck in a pleasant way.
“I don’t even know it’s there,” I said, trembling.
I could feel his body relax and loosen upon hearing the news. “Good. I was concerned with all the blood you lost.”
My head snapped up. I could feel my eyes glowing at this partial confession. “You were there, weren’t you? In the nurse’s office…”
He smiled wistfully at me. “I was.”
“I knew it,” I muttered, pleased. “I could feel you with me.” I paused, watching him. A wave of apprehension swept over me as I recalled my declaration to him. “Did you hear everything I said?”
“I did,” he replied, simply.
“Then why are you still avoiding me?” I asked noticing that my tone was just a level below pleading. “Is it because…” I swallowed before continuing because my throat seemed to be holding back the words I needed to say. “Is it because you don’t feel the same?”
He looked away, staring at nothing in particular, and I grew nervous. In reaction, I slid away from him, away from the warmth and protection of his arms and shifted to the hard, cold bench. I thought, though I couldn’t be certain, that his arms tightened for just an instance, refusing to let me go, but then released their hold entirely.
“I can take the truth,” I said, staring at him, willing him to answer me honestly.
“My feelings for you are not the issue.” His voice was strained. Something was still holding him back.
“I’m confused. What does that mean?”
“There is a lot you don’t understand. You don’t remember it all…but I do. You’ll need to trust me when I say that what I do, I do for your own good.”
“That is not an answer.”
“Until the time comes when I explain it all to you, that answer will need to suffice,” he replied, continuing to avoid my eyes.
I sighed in frustration, but it did no good. Judging from his restraint, I was not going to win this argument.
I recognized in myself something I didn’t think was possible. I submitted to him, entirely. I gave him the uninhibited ability to make decisions that would include my welfare, knowing I only allowed this because I trusted him completely, without any reservation.
“I know you are holding back, not telling me everything, but I also know that you’re doing it for my well-being. So, despite my frustration in that, I want to thank you for saving me from the Fallen One.”
He suddenly pulled back, attempting to get a better look at me. “What did you say?”
“I’m being serious. I actually felt genuine fear this time-”
“No, about the Fallen One,” he corrected. Only then did I realize he wasn’t teasing. He was frighteningly serious.
“Elam…” I clarified.
“Elam?” he said, alarmed.
“Yeah, he came in as a substitute teacher and tried to…well, he tried to blow me up.” I realized how ridiculous that sounded and I almost laughed at myself but Eran didn’t seem to find anything about what I said to be funny. He was now absorbed in thought – a thought that distressed him, judging by his expression.
“How did you know? That he was a Fallen One?” Eran asked, slowly and deliberately, his eyes still focused downward.
“My built in radar,” I said with a smile, which faded when Eran remained head down, mouth set in a firm line. “The hair…on the back of my neck. It stands up. I met a guy named Battersbee who helped me understand it. Eran…” I waited for him to finally look up. “You’re scaring me.”
“I’m sorry. This is serious.”
“I can see that.”
Eran stared into the distance, deep in thought. “But we had killed them,” he muttered, confused. “Every last one of them.”
“Killed them?” I said, alarmed.
“There’s no time to discuss the past. I have to get you to safety.”
I was nervous to admit it, not knowing if Eran might think of me as a fool from this point forward, but I went ahead and mentioned it anyways. “I would have told you sooner but I didn’t think you knew anything about them.”
“Sooner?” he asked, his eyes lifting to meet mine, drilling into me. An unsettling pang coursed through me and I shoved back the feeling of incompetency. Yet Eran’s next words made it clear that he didn’t consider me a fool. He was worried about something else entirely. “You said this Fallen One had just arrived.”
“Yes, but there are more.” I began to get nervous at this point, realizing I’d made a mistake in not bringing this up sooner.
He stared pointedly at me. “More? How many more?”
“Well, there’s Achan and Sarai. Sharar only showed up once.”
“So four…” Eran said to himself.
“Achan and Sarai are the only ones who’ve been around for a while though.”
“Doesn’t matter.” He shook his head. “Even if you don’t see them yourself, they’re there. They wait for the right time to attack.”
“Oh…” I muttered, again feeling foolish.
Eran released his breath in a rush.
“Of course,” he muttered as he came to understand something that I hadn’t yet. He shifted to stand up. I stayed seated on the bench as he floated a few paces away, his hand to his mouth, deep in thought. He dropped it just before explaining. “I couldn’t understand why you get into trouble so often. It’s not common. I see now…”
“What do you mean?”
He turned to me, his expression tense, and began to explain. “Didn’t you find it odd that the moment you grew roots and stayed longer than a few months in any one place that your life was suddenly and consistently in danger?”
I thought about this for a moment. “Well, I’ve always been in trouble, causing trouble for the most part as I deliver messages, but my life was never actually at risk until…” my voice fell away.
“Until just a few months ago,” Eran finished my thought aloud.
Eran was right. I mean nearly being run over, being impaled, narrowly escaping being bitten by a venomous snake, and having the room you are in be blown up were not run of the mill – at least not all happening to the same person within a matter of months.
Eran came to squat in front of me so our eyes were level. His face was drawn in and strained. “Remember how I told you that Fallen Ones take with them to earth different abilities? They don’t know that when they took your life before – as an infant – that you came back reborn. They think you chose to fall and they had no idea what kind of ability you brought with you.”
“Okay, what does that mean?” I asked, thoroughly confused on his point.
“Magdalene, they were testing different ways to kill you.”
Eran waited for me to make a move, to speak, to…at the very least…flinch. I couldn’t. The awareness of their intentions and their coordinated strategy caused the memories of each attempt to flood back to me, feeling as if I were suddenly locked in a concrete block.
After some time, I drew in a shaky breath. “I didn’t know…” I mumbled.
“I’m sure you didn’t.” He placed his finger beneath my chin and gently lifted it. When we were staring at each other, he added, “But you do now. How quickly can you leave the city?”
Before I even realized it, I was shaking my head, adamantly refusing.
“Magdalene, listen to me very closely. These Fallen Ones…they wait for your return and when they learn you have…they come after you. They will stop at nothing to get to you.”
“Isn’t that-isn’t that why I have a guardian?”
“There are limits to what I can do, Magdalene,” he said, restlessly. “There’s a reason I didn’t know they were here at all. Only you can sense them.”
“But Eran…I’ve waited so long for a home. And New Orleans is my home.”
He paused and I could see him working through his thoughts. In the end, he demonstrated just how well he knew me by choosing the one reason above all others that would make me see the sense in leaving.
“When I say they will stop at nothing to get to you that includes hurting others around you…including your roommates.”
I stopped shaking my head and focused on him and the pain he held in his expression.
I realized that I had done it again…bring trouble to others. Then I felt my chest cave in as a direct result of my disgruntled compliance.
“Is this the only way to keep everyone safe? To run?” I had a challenge saying that last word. I hated it and the entire cowardliness wrapped up in it.
I could see the sadness in him as he nodded confirmation.
I took a deep breath and ignored the sinking feeling in my stomach as I gave him my answer. “Then I understand what I need to do,” I said, very careful on how I phrased my words.
He breathed a deep sigh of relief and gave me an indecisive smile, held only until I spoke again.
“Was this part of the secret you were keeping from me? The one you wouldn’t tell me the last time I saw you here? Because I already know the other piece – I know we were in love in our past life together.”
The shock that ran across his face told me that he had no idea I’d figured it out. He stood and walked a few feet away and stopped.
“How did you know?”
“Does it matter?”
He thought for a moment before replying. “No, it doesn’t. It doesn’t change anything. Magdalene, you need to understand something…despite what happened in our past life together…” as he said this, he drew his shoulders in as if someone had just stabbed him, caused by some memory that clearly left an indelible mark. He recovered with a shiver and went on. “I am a guardian. With this post comes responsibilities and bou
ndaries that must be followed. And regardless of your feelings for me, regardless of your love…”
We both froze at those words. It was the first time he’d acknowledged them and the nakedness of their meaning settled over us equally as awkward.
“You do, don’t you?” he stared at me, waiting for an answer which I didn’t freely offer. “I can feel it, Magdalene. How do you think I know when you’re fearful? How do you think I know when to show up just as you need help? I feel you. I feel your fear, your anger, and your apprehension for falling in love with me.” He turned to me with stark conviction. “And you should be apprehensive, Magdalene. We can’t be together. Not in this lifetime or the next.”
“But why not?” I refused to believe it.
He closed his eyes and a shudder ran through him. By the end, his fists were tightened and his teeth were grinding. He was struggling with something intense and painful. I almost stood to go to him but he began to speak. “I told you that I would help you understand why I was avoiding you when the time came.” His jaw clenched for a brief moment as if he were sensing physical pain. In turn, I felt his ache course through me, a feeling of being torn between remaining carefully silent and telling the agonizing truth. “The time has come, though it’s far sooner than I thought it would be.” He sighed, profoundly troubled, and then opened his eyes to bore his focus into me. “The secret I kept wasn’t that we were husband and wife. What I held back…” another shudder ran through him… “was what they did to you on earth when they learned who we were. The Fallen Ones will never allow us to be together.”
“I don’t care. I’m not scared of them. All I want is to be with you,” I pleaded, something else I’d never done before in my life.
“Enough, Magdalene,” he said softly but firmly. “I won’t let it happen again. You don’t remember what they can do, what their abilities are, but I can’t forget…Damn it!” He raged, though I understood that it was not directed at me but at the unfairness of our circumstances. “Why do you think I only appear when you absolutely need me and only then? We…cannot…be…together.”
