Andre had a copious amount of secrets, but unlike most in his position, he
didn't consider them dangerous. His identity was one of his deepest and
best kept secret, and one he would keep until called upon to do otherwise.
So, for now, he was Alexandre Dante, a young Frenchman that had inherited
his uncle's old farmhouse. The "uncle" in question had built up an
astonishing library, from which Andre loaned out dusty volumes to
villagers. None of the fiercely French natives had questioned his
background, and he had meticulously hidden his native accent.
The whole reason he was in Fleury to begin with was another one of his secrets, but there was a purpose, a mission if you prefer. It was not dangerous, nor difficult, but time consuming. In fact, in the year that he had been there, Andre had come to love the directives. It was simple; he cared for Brigitte Vaughn and made sure no harm came to her. It had been a success from the start, and he had developed a genuine affection for the woman. As the year passed, Brigitte became the grandmother he never knew. Bringing groceries, tending to her garden, and bringing an occasional book had turned into a daily ritual, one he thoroughly enjoyed.
And when he was completely at ease, something twisted him around and made everything spin out of control.
Apparently Brigitte had a great niece she had never mentioned.
Emily Vaughn.
Being so close to her in the garden had been excruciating, holding back the desire to find out everything about her. When he looked into her eyes, he knew what Brigitte had rambled on and on about.
The Vaughn eyes.
He had commented quietly, and was pleased to see her fluster. He felt equally reddened when she spoke to him in Taiwanese. It had surprised him in two ways; that she listened so carefully, and that she actually spoke the language.
Not many Americans knew Taiwanese. Not many people in the world knew Taiwanese, which led Andre to thinking about Emily. If Brigitte had any relatives his age that were female, and as beautiful as Emily was, he would have heard about them. Brigitte was always trying to set him up with a girl from the village, and would have been delighted to welcome Andre into her family. Things just weren't adding up.
So he decided to watch her.
It had surprised him greatly when she set off in the hilly French terrain loaded with water and digging tools. His surprise did not stop him from following her, but it did make him forget the supplies he would need to comfortably pursue her. The two hours in tracking were long and brutal to his body, but he kept himself fresh by stalking her with as much stealth as he was trained to have.
When she stopped he circled around to watch her dig. An aura of excitement seemed to flow from her labor and Andre was so enraptured he failed to notice another presence. He did become worried when she slipped into the hole she had created and took the risk of hiding closer. It was as he was moving that he saw a woman jump into the cave, gun drawn. All reasonable thought left as he sprinted and practically dove into the gaping abyss in the hillside. He landed with a resounding thud, nearly knocking all the breath out of him. The sound of a bullet whizzing over his head was enough shot to get him on his feet, and then something else took over. Blood pounded in his head and everything went blurry as he robbed the woman of her gun and killed her. The reaction was not one he was used to, and certainly not one he liked. The world went darker as his eyes rolled into the back of his head, and he collapsed, falling next to the still forms of two women.
***
Andre blinked his eyes, hoping for some form of light to ensure he hadn't gone blind. Waiting for the pounding in his head to subside he glanced around to find a small ray of sunlight coming from a small opening above him. It took a few moments for him to realize he wasn't the only person in the cave. He rolled to his right and found a black woman with a bullet hole in her forehead. Shuddering, he turned to his right and found Emily, still unconscious.
Her pulse was weak, but it was still there. The woman's corpse was already starting to give an odor that made Andre's stomach convulse erratically. Weakly he gathered Emily into his arms and staggered deeper into the darkness, away from the smell of death, and away from the light. When he could go no farther he slumped down and attempted to lay her still form on the ground, but she held tight to his shirt, muttering, "Don't leave me now"
He held her in his arms, trying to soothe her shaking body, feebly trying to identify the drug that had been injected into her veins. The shaking stopped, but it only let something worse replace it.
Emily's voice became stiff and formal. Her spine seemed to straighten and the words were almost spat out. "The woman here depicted will possess unseen marks. Signs that she will be the one to bring forth my works, bind them with fury; a burning anger. Unless prevented, at vulgar cost, this woman will render the greatest power unto utter desolation. This woman, without pretense, will have had her effect, never having seen the beauty of my sky, behind Mount Subasio. Perhaps a single glance would have quelled her fire."
Andre's head jerked as he heard the familiar words. They had been read to him during training, and had been told very few people in the world knew of Rambaldi's prophecy. He had not been allowed to view the actual text or even glance at the parchment that contained the words, but was aware of a sketch.
Her spine relaxed, and she snuggled into Andre's arms, head in the crook of his neck. They were both surprisingly comfortable, given their surroundings. A few minutes passed before Emily spoke again, still in a hallucinatory state. "Can I learn how to play a guitar?"
She continued in this manner for an hour, reliving different scenes from her life.
"Mmm .. Don't harm the ice cream .. It never did anything to you."
"I've taken into account what you've told me, but I still want to join."
"This isn't working. I have to leave, before we tear apart each other's hearts."
"I swear you read my mind. I'm going to start calling you Miss Cleo."
"Can I stay with you for a while? My landlord just kicked me out."
"So I can read what he writes, so what? I bet lots of people can do it."
"No. I will not talk to her. I don't care if she knows where my uncle is. I'm not speaking with Irina Derevko."
"Where the hell are you?"
"Hey Dad, I need your help."
"My name is Emily Vaughn. I was told I could find shelter here."
With that last statement, Andre felt hot tears slide down his neck and drip onto his tightly gripped shirt. She was clinging to him like he was the only thing keeping her alive, and when she began shuddering again he felt the overwhelming urge to protect her at all costs. He was contemplating ways to get Emily out of the abyss they were swallowed in, when a memory of his own rose to the surface.
And then it hit him.
Why Emily looked so familiar. Where he had seen her facial features and the grace the seemed to flow from her.
There had been a large painting over a fireplace where Andre lived. He had always loved to curl up with a Russian novel in front of a well-lit fire. Often he would gaze at the work of art before him, and wonder at the woman depicted. She had an aura of light around her, creating the sense of peace. Her beauty flowed, and he had memorized the sight. Right before he was assigned to France, he had asked whom she was, that woman in the painting. He had gotten no response, and left without knowing.
It wasn't Emily. The woman had brown eyes, not Emily's sparkling emeralds. But it still left him unsettled, and slightly suspicious. Her words came back to him, and he let them drift in the air, one in particular catching his attention.
"This isn't working. I have to leave, before we tear apart each other's hearts."
So she had loved and lost. Hadn't everybody? Andre had known the feeling of losing before he turned five. He lost everything on his ninth birthday. And somehow, he gained some back. He, out of a thousand other boys, had been chosen from the dank orphanage. He was lavished with education and the companionship he so desperately needed. His world had been righted.
A fatherly figure had nurtured him, and Andre always had the feeling he was a replacement, a substitute for something the man had lost. Emily's hoarse whisper brought him crashing back to reality.
"Why me?"
He held her closer, trying to block her from whatever she was experiencing. The drug that had been shot into her had hallucinatory effects, he was sure of that. That woman wanted to cause her immense pain. The roughness of the cave wall was starting to wear through his thin shirt, reminding him exactly where he was, a cave. Even with his limited geology expertise, Andre knew caves were very rare in France. So rare in fact, he hadn't even heard of one.
Suddenly Emily wrenched herself from his embrace, and staggered deeper into the darkness. Andre couldn't see his own hand, let alone where Emily was going, but he followed in her direction. Stumbling over rocks and often running into the dirt walls, he blindly tried to find Emily. His head hit something hard, and once again his mind went dangerously blank.
***
"Emily, wake up," a voice crooned softly, startling Emily from the haze that surrounded her.
"What the hell?" She muttered groggily, fingers massaging her temples. Everything was blurry and misty. A soft light beckoned her forward, revealing a large manuscript. The eye of Rambaldi was etched onto the cover, as well as an inscription.
'To my heir, may she find her truths in these words'
"Heir?" Emily whispered, confused, "He had a heir?"
Opening the cover carefully, she glanced over his intricate code. The translation came to her naturally, and faster than it ever had before.
'Only the one whom I entrust with all my secrets shall read these words. May she use them wisely.'
Emily's bloodshot eyes poured over the ancient page, widening as she took in Rambaldi's words.
"Holy shit."
A/N: Sorry it took me so long, I just took midterms, and I swear my brain was gone for a week. But at least I passed them all! *Duck
The whole reason he was in Fleury to begin with was another one of his secrets, but there was a purpose, a mission if you prefer. It was not dangerous, nor difficult, but time consuming. In fact, in the year that he had been there, Andre had come to love the directives. It was simple; he cared for Brigitte Vaughn and made sure no harm came to her. It had been a success from the start, and he had developed a genuine affection for the woman. As the year passed, Brigitte became the grandmother he never knew. Bringing groceries, tending to her garden, and bringing an occasional book had turned into a daily ritual, one he thoroughly enjoyed.
And when he was completely at ease, something twisted him around and made everything spin out of control.
Apparently Brigitte had a great niece she had never mentioned.
Emily Vaughn.
Being so close to her in the garden had been excruciating, holding back the desire to find out everything about her. When he looked into her eyes, he knew what Brigitte had rambled on and on about.
The Vaughn eyes.
He had commented quietly, and was pleased to see her fluster. He felt equally reddened when she spoke to him in Taiwanese. It had surprised him in two ways; that she listened so carefully, and that she actually spoke the language.
Not many Americans knew Taiwanese. Not many people in the world knew Taiwanese, which led Andre to thinking about Emily. If Brigitte had any relatives his age that were female, and as beautiful as Emily was, he would have heard about them. Brigitte was always trying to set him up with a girl from the village, and would have been delighted to welcome Andre into her family. Things just weren't adding up.
So he decided to watch her.
It had surprised him greatly when she set off in the hilly French terrain loaded with water and digging tools. His surprise did not stop him from following her, but it did make him forget the supplies he would need to comfortably pursue her. The two hours in tracking were long and brutal to his body, but he kept himself fresh by stalking her with as much stealth as he was trained to have.
When she stopped he circled around to watch her dig. An aura of excitement seemed to flow from her labor and Andre was so enraptured he failed to notice another presence. He did become worried when she slipped into the hole she had created and took the risk of hiding closer. It was as he was moving that he saw a woman jump into the cave, gun drawn. All reasonable thought left as he sprinted and practically dove into the gaping abyss in the hillside. He landed with a resounding thud, nearly knocking all the breath out of him. The sound of a bullet whizzing over his head was enough shot to get him on his feet, and then something else took over. Blood pounded in his head and everything went blurry as he robbed the woman of her gun and killed her. The reaction was not one he was used to, and certainly not one he liked. The world went darker as his eyes rolled into the back of his head, and he collapsed, falling next to the still forms of two women.
***
Andre blinked his eyes, hoping for some form of light to ensure he hadn't gone blind. Waiting for the pounding in his head to subside he glanced around to find a small ray of sunlight coming from a small opening above him. It took a few moments for him to realize he wasn't the only person in the cave. He rolled to his right and found a black woman with a bullet hole in her forehead. Shuddering, he turned to his right and found Emily, still unconscious.
Her pulse was weak, but it was still there. The woman's corpse was already starting to give an odor that made Andre's stomach convulse erratically. Weakly he gathered Emily into his arms and staggered deeper into the darkness, away from the smell of death, and away from the light. When he could go no farther he slumped down and attempted to lay her still form on the ground, but she held tight to his shirt, muttering, "Don't leave me now"
He held her in his arms, trying to soothe her shaking body, feebly trying to identify the drug that had been injected into her veins. The shaking stopped, but it only let something worse replace it.
Emily's voice became stiff and formal. Her spine seemed to straighten and the words were almost spat out. "The woman here depicted will possess unseen marks. Signs that she will be the one to bring forth my works, bind them with fury; a burning anger. Unless prevented, at vulgar cost, this woman will render the greatest power unto utter desolation. This woman, without pretense, will have had her effect, never having seen the beauty of my sky, behind Mount Subasio. Perhaps a single glance would have quelled her fire."
Andre's head jerked as he heard the familiar words. They had been read to him during training, and had been told very few people in the world knew of Rambaldi's prophecy. He had not been allowed to view the actual text or even glance at the parchment that contained the words, but was aware of a sketch.
Her spine relaxed, and she snuggled into Andre's arms, head in the crook of his neck. They were both surprisingly comfortable, given their surroundings. A few minutes passed before Emily spoke again, still in a hallucinatory state. "Can I learn how to play a guitar?"
She continued in this manner for an hour, reliving different scenes from her life.
"Mmm .. Don't harm the ice cream .. It never did anything to you."
"I've taken into account what you've told me, but I still want to join."
"This isn't working. I have to leave, before we tear apart each other's hearts."
"I swear you read my mind. I'm going to start calling you Miss Cleo."
"Can I stay with you for a while? My landlord just kicked me out."
"So I can read what he writes, so what? I bet lots of people can do it."
"No. I will not talk to her. I don't care if she knows where my uncle is. I'm not speaking with Irina Derevko."
"Where the hell are you?"
"Hey Dad, I need your help."
"My name is Emily Vaughn. I was told I could find shelter here."
With that last statement, Andre felt hot tears slide down his neck and drip onto his tightly gripped shirt. She was clinging to him like he was the only thing keeping her alive, and when she began shuddering again he felt the overwhelming urge to protect her at all costs. He was contemplating ways to get Emily out of the abyss they were swallowed in, when a memory of his own rose to the surface.
And then it hit him.
Why Emily looked so familiar. Where he had seen her facial features and the grace the seemed to flow from her.
There had been a large painting over a fireplace where Andre lived. He had always loved to curl up with a Russian novel in front of a well-lit fire. Often he would gaze at the work of art before him, and wonder at the woman depicted. She had an aura of light around her, creating the sense of peace. Her beauty flowed, and he had memorized the sight. Right before he was assigned to France, he had asked whom she was, that woman in the painting. He had gotten no response, and left without knowing.
It wasn't Emily. The woman had brown eyes, not Emily's sparkling emeralds. But it still left him unsettled, and slightly suspicious. Her words came back to him, and he let them drift in the air, one in particular catching his attention.
"This isn't working. I have to leave, before we tear apart each other's hearts."
So she had loved and lost. Hadn't everybody? Andre had known the feeling of losing before he turned five. He lost everything on his ninth birthday. And somehow, he gained some back. He, out of a thousand other boys, had been chosen from the dank orphanage. He was lavished with education and the companionship he so desperately needed. His world had been righted.
A fatherly figure had nurtured him, and Andre always had the feeling he was a replacement, a substitute for something the man had lost. Emily's hoarse whisper brought him crashing back to reality.
"Why me?"
He held her closer, trying to block her from whatever she was experiencing. The drug that had been shot into her had hallucinatory effects, he was sure of that. That woman wanted to cause her immense pain. The roughness of the cave wall was starting to wear through his thin shirt, reminding him exactly where he was, a cave. Even with his limited geology expertise, Andre knew caves were very rare in France. So rare in fact, he hadn't even heard of one.
Suddenly Emily wrenched herself from his embrace, and staggered deeper into the darkness. Andre couldn't see his own hand, let alone where Emily was going, but he followed in her direction. Stumbling over rocks and often running into the dirt walls, he blindly tried to find Emily. His head hit something hard, and once again his mind went dangerously blank.
***
"Emily, wake up," a voice crooned softly, startling Emily from the haze that surrounded her.
"What the hell?" She muttered groggily, fingers massaging her temples. Everything was blurry and misty. A soft light beckoned her forward, revealing a large manuscript. The eye of Rambaldi was etched onto the cover, as well as an inscription.
'To my heir, may she find her truths in these words'
"Heir?" Emily whispered, confused, "He had a heir?"
Opening the cover carefully, she glanced over his intricate code. The translation came to her naturally, and faster than it ever had before.
'Only the one whom I entrust with all my secrets shall read these words. May she use them wisely.'
Emily's bloodshot eyes poured over the ancient page, widening as she took in Rambaldi's words.
"Holy shit."
A/N: Sorry it took me so long, I just took midterms, and I swear my brain was gone for a week. But at least I passed them all! *Duck
