Redemption

Chapter 2: Dexter/Sinister

I was bent over, dry heaving on the ground, when the Elder who had sparked a dim recollection in my mind appeared. He waited patiently, placid and uncomplaining as I attempted to pull myself out of the depths of despair I had just been plunged into.

At my feet, a lovely twelve-year-old girl lay dead. I thought...I had seen...She appeared to shift shape and form, but so quickly that I was now unsure if it had been a trick of the light, the forest being dark and forboding. She had seemed different somehow, and I, taking my first lessons on Redemption to heart, saw her as a demon. A demon must be destroyed, the good, the innocent must be protected. A not unfamiliar concept to me, but one that I now knew I had never taken fully to heart.

I straightened up and looked at the Elder clad in golden robes that seemed to shimmer in the pale moonlight that shone from above. His hair was silver gilt, as was the small beard. Rimless eyeglasses perch on a straight nose, and the green eyes regarded me calmly, with a touch of affection, even. He was shorter than I, of stockier build with lines scoring his forehead and feathering out from the corners of his eyes.

I was still shaking, my breathing rapid. I knew I should look down once last time, commit the horror I had created to my memory; while I STILL had memory. This act, reprehensible and unprovoked except in my disordered mind, would send me back to the unconsciousness of Limbo. Of that I had little doubt.

I forced my gaze downward and saw...

Nothing.

I looked back up at the gently smiling Elder and felt the anger grow in my heart until it burst forth in a rage of words and movement. But even as I rushed the robed man, shrieking like the mad thing I was, he stood perfectly still. Just as my hands were ready to close around his throat, I found myself on the mossy ground, my mouth stretched wide in silent agony. Pain, the worst pain I had ever felt, flowed through me like an electrical current. Just when I began to pray for a quick return to Limbo, the pain abruptly ended, leaving me gasping and bathed in sweat. It was several moments before I could concentrate on the words flowing down from above me.

" As we discussed earlier, all things are ruled by the two opposing forces, named Dexter and Sinister. But you must remember that the two are also one and it is only our ability to use our senses that we may choose the right path. Did you do so? "

" No, I did not. " I answered, still spent with muscles twitching as if the current of pain still flowed in their memory.

" Arise, Belthazor. We have much to do and time is running out. "

I found myself finally able to move, and obediently fell in step next to the man who ruled my new destiny.

He was appearing more and more familiar, and the idea that I knew him grew with each passing second. It teased me, dancing like the wisps of grey fog that filled Limbo, just out of reach.

" What were your mistakes? " He asked and I thought carefully before I answered.

" I used only the sense of sight and relied on my old ways of perception. "

He nodded, absently. " Why did you choose to use a fireball to kill with? "

" If it had been a real demon, a shape-shifter, it would have indicated the need to use killing force. " I answered as we plodded along.

He stopped and turned to look at me. " Explain. "

I had thought such a notion needed no explanation, but the pain, oh, the memory of that pain!

" Upper Level demons are always dispatched with fire power if possible. "

And suddenly my mind disconnected and I was back on my small stool, proudly wearing the medium blue robes of a newly consecrated mid-boy, listening raptly as my teacher spoke...

" Fire power is our most reliable means of permanent dispatch, but you must be cautious. Some of the lower level demons will actually receive a power boost from fire and a few of the lowest of life forms will actually replicate themselves when struck. " Raynor shook his head in disgust and drained the pewter mug he held in his hand. " Bottom-feeders, like gnats. Ought to be exterminated. " He muttered, grumpily placing the mug on the table to his right.

I was up in a flash, bringing the earthenware pitcher that contained the revolting grog my teacher drank to reduced the pain in his injured leg. I had, after a few years with him, ventured to ask about the malady. To my surprise, he gave me an answer instead of a clout to the head.

" Ah, yes. This happened many centuries ago, of course, and Chimera are rarely seen nowadays, but the wound you receive from such a creature continues to worsen as time passes. "

" Are there no incantations, Sir? " I had asked with the proper humility and respect, and was again rewarded with civil conversation. For once.

Perhaps I should think more kindly of said revolting grog, as it appeared to mellow my mentor, thus improving my chances of a pain-free lesson.

He shook his bushy head, " No, nothing of the likes. The Sorcerers tried many things, but none have help so far. You do know what happens to lackies who fail us, don't you, Turner? "

" They do not live to fail us twice, Sir. " I answered with a grin that bordered on cheeky, and Raynor smiled an almost, but not quite pleasant smile in return.

" Good lad. Back to your lessons, now..."

"...now Energy power can do marvels, yet once again we must ascertain that the proper removal method is employed on the proper demonic entities...Are you listening, boy?! "

I jerked upright on my stool, and saw the left hand twitch towards the heavy old cane.

" Forgive me, Sir. I was thinking about some of the newer incantations I have been learning and wondered if any of them could, perhaps, ease some of your discomfort. "

The wrinkled faced mottled an unbecoming shade of red, and I bowed my head, awaiting the blow that I knew was coming. It really didn't even bother me anymore...

Could heads become as callused as other body parts?

To my amazement, nothing happened and I looked up to see Raynor, still angered, yet showing remarkable restraint.

" You want..to ease...my discomfort? By all that is Evil, why?! "

" It grieves me to see such a great demon as yourself in pain. Although you hide it remarkably well, I mean no offense, Sir! "

Dear Demons! Was I mad? Ah well, as I had observed before, one could only be slain once...

The color faded from the face, and a small, amost invisible sparkle showed in the wise old eyes. And I, felt a most curious warmth in my stomach...

And, my heart.

Raynor nodded, and then stretched out an arm. " Help me up, boy, I am wearied. You are dismissed for the night. "

I helped the old demon up and bowed my head respectfully as I made for the wooden door of his cave-like room. There I turned back, hesitated, then spoke my farewell.

" May His Lordship, Our Master, grant you as comfortable a night as your rank deserves, Sir. " The traditional farewell from one such as I to my mentor and surrogate father.

Raynor bobbed his head again, stiffly, and I turned to exit. As I was closing the door, I was sure my hearing was defective...

For behind me, Raynor murmured, " Until tomorrow...Cole. "

He never hit me again...

I blinked and found myself back in the forest, the moonlight filtering through the trees to shine on the closed eyes of the Elder standing by a small stream of water. He appeared to be meditating, but before I could think of a polite way to interrupt, he sighed and opened his eyes.

" Why did that particular event come to your mind? " He asked me in a quiet voice.

I shrugged, wiping my sweating palms on the side of the grey petitioner's robes I was wearing. " You asked about the reasoning behind my choice of killing techniques..." I began to explain, only to have him wave a hand in a gesture of impatience.

" This..Raynor. He was special to you? " He asked.

" Yes. " I answered in a slightly clipped and surly tone. " Like a father to me. "

The Elder smiled, " And yet...were you not the instrument of his destruction? "

" I was. " I acknowledged. Why lie about it? He already knew all my thoughts. The bastard.

" How did you feel...after? "

I opened my mouth to respond, and then hesitated. How did I feel after killing the three leaders of The Brotherhood of the Thorn?

I was injured, exhausted, mentally vulnerable. Relief? Yes, of course. But wasn't there just a hint of something else?

A feeling? A bit of warmth drained from the sun? Did I not wish for the ability to alter time? To take back the ending of the lives of my three closest friends?

" I felt...grief. "

The Elder was silent, his eyes probing mine. Finally he nodded, smiled and gestured for me to follow him once more.

" Feelings are painful at times, but the ability to love, to lose and to learn to love again is what separates you from the true demons. We will walk and you will listen. And, remember, Belthazor; Dexter and Sinister. They will reside within you for the rest of your time on this Earth. "

I followed obediently, tried to listen with full concentration, yet as those words sunk deeper into my mind I began to wonder...

Was " Redemption " really worth going through the pain, the loss of self, and the inevitable loss of my mind yet again? Was this what I truly wanted?

Time would tell...

Wyatt slipped through the partially opened door, passing a few small crates to Chris.

" How's the headache? " Wyatt asked his younger brother, as Darryl wheeled around gathering the stacked belongings the three men had scattered about.

Chris shrugged, " Gone now. Got bad outside, but you must have put something pretty repellent into those Charms. "

Wyatt grinned, " Yeah, I learned about the demonic dislike for Mandrake from Aunt Paige. Guess it's kinda like Wolf's Bane to Werewolves. "

Darryl rolled his eyes and muttered, " Don't you dare wish any of those things on us, too! " He then wheeled into the one closet to beginning deciding what to take and what to leave behind.

" Don't forget the Book, Darryl! " Wyatt called and Darryl yelled back.

" Oh, right. I'm gonna leave The Book of Shadows sitting on a shelf in concrete bunker! Jeez! "

Both brothers choked back laughter. Darryl's grumpiness was part act and both of them knew it.

Wyatt opened his mouth to tell Chris about the place he had found, when a flash of white lights filled the room, coalescing into the form of their father, Leo Wyatt.

" Blessed Be. " He said mildly, pushing the hood of his gold robe back. " There is no need to flee yet, you will wait here for further instructions. "

Wyatt dumped a handful of books on the table and then turned to give his father a scathing look.

" How dare you flit down here and tell us what to do or not to do?! You have no clue what life is like for us here! "

" Wyatt! " Darryl yelled, rolling his chair back around the corner. " What did I say to you? Huh?! "

Chris stayed in the background, watching Wyatt glare at their father and then finally turn a more gentle face towards Darryl.

" I'm sorry, Darryl, but he has no CLUE...! "

" Whether or not he has a clue doesn't matter! One, he's an Elder and you have to respect that and Two, he's your Dad and you have to respect that even more! " Darryl retorted, a frown of disapproval on his scarred features.

Wyatt held himself, stiffly, and then turned back to face Leo. He gazed over his father's head, and muttered an apology between gritted teeth.

" I apologize...Sir. "

Chris cleared his throat and addressed his father, " While we are glad for your input, it's simply too dangerous here. Demons have..."

" Yes, yes, I know. " Leo said in a tired voice, " You are occupued, I understand this. But, I come from the Council, and they, the Leaders of BOTH sides, ask that you await your instructions here. "

" There, you see? " Darryl said, smugly, " They've got a " CLUE " after all. "

Wyatt's deep breath was released slowly, and was not unlike a hiss. " Fine. We'll stay here. But, we want you to know that we don't approve. "

" You don't have to approve or understand. You must obey. " Leo Wyatt said, outwardly impassive, while inwardly he was shaken to the core of his being.

How like Piper, he thought. How very much Wyatt resembles his Mother. His anger was born of frustration, fear and the feeling that he, and he alone, was responsible for the welfare of all in the magical community. After all...

He was The Chosen One.

Leo glanced at Chris, saw how thin and weedy he was, but still such a beautiful young man. Chris grinned at his father and Leo couldn't help but grin back. Chris, too, resembled Piper, but the light-hearted Piper...

The Piper who had disappeared as "The Darkness" grew stronger.

Chris saw the wistful look on his father's face. Gone was the ultra-calm and collected Elder. This was the face of the father he had adored. The father who had deserted them. Yet, for some unknown reason, Chris's anger was a fleeting thing. He didn't hold on to it, nor did he nurture it as Wyatt did.

" When will we see the demon? " Wyatt asked, and Leo turned back to face him, the impassive Elder once more.

" No demon will be joining you. A former demon, now a Guardian who has undergone the Right of Redemption, will join you shortly. He is settling into the area you will all be living in together. " Leo answered, then began to raise his hood once more.

" What?! Wait a minute! I'm not living with HIM! " Wyatt sputtered in surprise, but all Leo did was restore his hood and place his arms into the sleeves of his robe.

" You have no choice. You must obey. Blessed Be. " With that parting remark, the blue-white lights shimmered briefly and were gone.

Wyatt heaved a book at the battered old fridge, and stormed out of the door...