Chapter Eight
A/N: No reviewers.
The emotions were so overwhelming that Clarelia made no attempt to speak to her father, despite the rush of questions flowing through her mind. Why have you never come to find me? Why was my mother in prison? Why was I never allowed to know who you both were? Who are you?
In the end, it was him who spoke first. His voice was so different to how it had been in the wasteland that Clarelia found herself wondering whether he was truly the same man. His face was identical, though- he must be.
"She was a wonderful woman, you know." the man spoke quietly, as if he were in fact whispering to the grave itself and not to her. He might as well have been, for he was staring at the flowers as if his daughter was not even there. "In all my years, I'd hardly met anyone who understood me in the way she did. And she was human... that was made her so incredible. I regret what happened to her, Clarelia. I truly do."
Clarelia looked up, a little startled at being so suddenly addressed, even though she had been hanging on her father's every word.
"If I could bring her back now, I would." he continued, the longing so clear in his whispering tones. "You know that, don't you?"
But Clarelia could not bring herself to answer, for she did not know that. This man was her father and yet she could not decide whether to believe him or not, because she did not know him well enough to be able to tell lies from truth. 'Most girls would believe anything their father said and would never doubt him.' she supposed. She had no way to be sure; none of the girls she had ever really spoken to had fathers.
"Clarelia?" her father asked, after silence had ruled for a minute. The girl snapped.
"Why did you have to spoil it?" she asked, her voice dripping with venom. It was frightening to hear her own voice sound so different, but there was something about this 'Master' that brought out a nastier side to her. When he looked blankly in her direction, she explained. "Our family. It was your fault she was in prison, it has to be your fault. She did something to hurt you and you hurt her, made her give me up. She wouldn't have done something to you if you hadn't deserved it. Why couldn't you just have left it alone?"
"Perhaps I should have done." the man conceded, hanging his head in shame. "Perhaps then we would've been a normal family."
"We'll never know now, will we?" the girl sighed, her voice trembling with anger and sadness as she turned to face the gravestone. "Thanks to you, we'll never know."
"Clarelia..." her father sighed and knelt down beside her. Clarelia could not keep herself from flinching as he laid a hand on her shoulder, but strangely enough, she found the gesture comforting all the same. There was a crackle of electricity beneath his skin, the same that ran in her veins. 'It's the same blood.' she reminded herself. 'One half of everything I am is him and the other half is dead. He's all I have now. At least I have someone.'
"I'm sorry." she whispered, the guilt weighing down on her conscience. "My mum's dead, your wife's dead. That's bad enough. I shouldn't have made it worse by accusing you of something you didn't do. It wasn't fair."
"Life hardly ever is." the man responded. "I learnt that many years ago and I don't doubt you did too. That's one thing we have in common, I suppose. We both grew up alone."
"You were never really on your own." Clarelia spat, angry once again. She had never known such quick changes of emotion; then again, she had never had any real reasons to be emotional before now. "If you had known real loneliness, then you would have done anything to keep your child away from it."
"I would've done if I'd had the choice." the man professed and took her hands in his own. Wincing, the girl tried to wriggle away, but his grip was like iron. "I didn't have the power to make that decision then, darling, but now I do."
Clarelia's emotions changed once more, as her anger gave way to confusion, then to hope. Since she had been little, she had shared the same dream as every abandoned child: the dream of a family. Now, she had a chance to have that family. The question was... did she really want it anymore?
"Do you really want me with you?" she asked tentatively, dreading his response. Her father's face softened.
"Of course I do." he answered her, his voice barely more than an emotional whisper. "You're my only daughter, my only child, and all I have left of the love of my life. I can never get her back, but I want you here with me more than anything in the world. I know I've made a lot of mistakes, but-"
"Okay." Clarelia cut across her father before he had a chance to say another word. He looked up at her, shocked. "I'll stay with you."
"You will?" the man asked, incredulous. She responded with just a nod. "Oh, darling, you don't know how much that means to me. It's all I've wanted for a long time."
Smiling widely, her father wrapped his arms around her. The embrace was firm, not like the warm hugs she had imagined as a child, but it made her feel secure and protected, which was more than she had ever had before.
"I'm so happy, Clarelia, really I am." the man sighed. "But still, I feel that I have to make it up to you. Name something, the thing you want most in the world, and I swear that I can get it for you."
Clarelia opened her mouth to object, to say that she did not need anything but him, but then a thought came to the front of her mind. It was crazy, impossible... and yet he had said anything.
Surely, there was nothing to lose.
A/N: Please review!
