Syrina

Chapter Nine

Normalcy

            Syrina was curled up in a ball, eyes shut tightly.  She wanted to block out the horrid feeling rushing over her.  Her head pounded and her skull felt like it was ready to explode.  She cursed Rambaldi and his idiotic, invasive prophecies.  Deep down, in the pit of her stomach, she knew that the change coming over her body was her destiny.  She was about to fulfill her destiny.  Was it because of the date or was it because of her nearness to Sydney Bristow?  She didn't think she'd ever know the answer to that question.  She suppressed a moan as the pounding increased.  Suddenly, cool skin feathered over her hot forehead, relaxing her tension without much coaxing.  "Syri, what's wrong with you?"  He whispered it so not to worsen her headache.  She allowed herself to scoot towards Sark to his warm embrace.  "It's the Prophecy.  My decision, it's almost awakening inside my body.  I don't know if that makes any sense at all."

"I understand."  He stroked her silky brown and she shivered in pleasure.

"I don't know what you said to Sydney, but she is being surprisingly cooperative.  I fear that will be cut short when we pick Alli up."

"We could exclude her from this whole mission, Andrew."

"She has been involved with this as long as the both of us have.  It won't be fair to cut her from this."

Syrina sighed, the memory of her hatred towards Allison resurfacing.  Sark squeezed Syrina and pressed a firm kiss on the crown of her head. 

"We must retrieve Alli, then move on to Kysokos.  Il Dire should be there where we can play out the Prophecy and hopefully continue living."

"And put Rambaldi behind us."

"Yes."

Syrina pulled away form Sark.
"I'm going to go find a large aspirin bottle and down it."

He smiled at her exaggeration.  "We don't have any on the estate."

"I'll go on into D'Avignon, then."

"Be back in an hour.  We need to leave soon."

"All right, Daddy."

She returned his smile with a coy look before turning to the door.

"Don't let Sydney beat you up too badly, Andrew."

Sark tossed a pillow from the coach to the door and she ducked, a small giggle erupting from her.  She disappeared into the hallway and all Sark could think of was how amazing Syrina Khasinau was.

            Syrina traveled down the main road, unsure of where she was going.  She just seemed to be wandering around, yet she knew exactly where she was headed.  The tiny store she'd shopped at the day before came into view.  Understanding spread over her.  She wanted to see Christopher again.  He had been so kind to her, so carefree with her.  He was young and innocent and average, something Syrina wished she could be.  She wanted to be normal, live with her parents, attend a secondary academy, and have friends and a boyfriend.  Of course, craving normalcy did absolutely nothing for her.  She pushed open the door, allowing the cinnamon scented air attack her senses.  She stopped at the entry to absorb the scene.

"Mademoiselle Mysterieuse!  I was positive I would never get the chance to see you again.  Your boy seemed to think you would be leaving."

Syrina lifted her eyes to meet Christopher's gaze.

"I was supposed to leave yesterday.  Instead, we stayed one more night.  We're leaving in an hour.  I came in to buy some aspirin.  And he's not my boy."

Christopher grabbed a bottle from the counter and tossed it to her.  Her hand shot up and captured it with ease.

"You have quick-reflexes."

Syrina chuckled and shrugged a bit.

"Yes, well, I was trained to have them."

"In school?"

"Not exactly."

"You have become cryptic again."

"Also part of my training."

Her face broke into a wide grin, not able to resist saying it.  Christopher shook his head disbelievingly.  "I will miss your presence very much, Syrina."

Syrina stepped forward to lean on the counter.  She tilted her head acutely.

"I will miss you, too.  I know I haven't known you for very long, but you've made me feel…regular.  That's more than anyone else has done for me.  Thank you."

Christopher raised his palm, cupping her cheek sweetly.

"You seem so sad, Mademoiselle, and I wish I could do more for you.  Make your beautiful smile appear again."

Syrina's heart thudded painfully inside her chest, the loss of a new friend weighing on her heart.  She stood on her tiptoes and pressed her lips onto his mouth carefully.  He pulled her closer to him, holding her, unwilling to let this girl vanish from his life.  Syrina pulled away and pushed a few francs in his hand.

"Good-bye, Christopher."

"Adieu, Syrina."

Syrina dashed down the walkway and into the street.  Tears stung her eyes, the loss of Christopher and the loss of someone who had the possibility of making her human again burning every inch of her body.  She couldn't think about anything anymore.

            Sydney entered the living room to find Sark sitting casually on a chaise.  She had a hard time visualizing Sark as casual, though she didn't mind it exactly.  Sark still bothered her, frayed her last nerve, but she was adapting to their new alliance.  Sark seemed to be lost in thought and she almost hated to disturb his thoughts.

"Sark?"

He opened his eyes and glared.

"So sorry to interrupt.  I'm just bored.  For having such a nice house, you certainly have a limited selection of entertainment."

Sark rolled his eyes, making him seem younger than usual.  "We don't spend a great deal of time in D'Avignon, so we aren't too worried about extensive entertainment."

Sydney shrugged before flopping ungracefully onto the couch.

"What were you thinking about?"

"Absolutely nothing."

"You were meditating?"

"Sure."

Sydney sighed.  "You were thinking about Syrina Khasinau."

"I was not."

"Excellent argument."

"What makes you presume I was thinking about Syrina?"

"You do realize for being such a master deceiver, you don't hide your feelings for Syrina very well."

"I do not have feelings for Syrina."

"Once more, with feeling."

Sark growled, feeling incredibly defensive.

"Why would I discuss my feelings with you anyway?  We are only temporary allies.  Soon, we'll be arch nemesis again."

"Well, prying into your personal life provides me with a much needed distraction."

"I would-"

"I'm home, Andrew."

Sark glanced up to find Syrina standing in the doorway, her brown hair waving around her face.  Something about her facial expression worried Sark.  It reminded him of someone losing themselves, something that had happened to him so long ago.

"Are you all right, Syrina?"

"I'm fine.  Let's go."

Sark stood, debating whether to pry further.  He could feel Sydney's eyes boring into his back, so he immediately decided he had to prove Sydney Bristow wrong.

"Come on, then.  Sydney, we'll drive to the airport where my plane is grounded."  He said to fill Sydney in on a part of the plan.  The three gathered their bags and rushed to the car.