Emotionless Lighters
Chapter Three: Demons in all Forms
Piper
I woke up around nine in the morning, groggily thinking back on the events of last night. Was I dreaming? It was all so odd. But then I see the pad of paper and pen and decide that it couldn't be a dream, since the spells are still there. Before going to sleep last night, I decided to tinker around a bit with some spells that may allow the kid to speak his mind. It's terrible, watching him try to stop himself from speaking all the time.
And it's creepy to have Leo around, too, I think to myself, dressing into jeans and a t-shirt. It's been so many years, and now he's here with this poor child neither of us even know. This was not exactly a situation that either of us could've predicted.
I grab my spells, walking over to Wyatt's bedroom and opening the door to peek in. He's still in there, conked out from that spell. What was his name again?
Chris. His name was Chris.
Images of my own tiny baby come flooding back, to my displeasure. It was the loss of that baby that tore us all apart. But I couldn't put this kid in his place and try to make it okay. It was a coincidence that his name was Chris; besides, our baby wasn't even named when the demons kidnapped him. Our baby had been dead for seven years.
He looks so innocent when he's sleeping, so unaware. The poor kid was stuck in the middle of the world's problems. What unnerved me the most about his kidnapping and the kidnappings of the other children was the element of the prophecy. The prediction that a great evil would turn magic to the darkness. Was such a thing really going to happen? We'd always been able to stop any demon that tried to tear apart our family. Why would some new dark force be any different?
It's hard to believe that this kid is as powerful as Leo says he is, since he's so little and everything. Who were his original parents? Do they lay awake at night, wondering where he is? How old was he when he was kidnapped? A tiny baby, or a toddler, old enough to have some memory of the life he left behind?
After a moment of staring at him, I shake off all these unanswerable questions and head down the stairs to make some pancakes. Then we can use the reversal spell to wake him up.
On the way down I see Leo, sitting on the couch wide-awake. "What are you still doing here?" I sneer.
"Ariel told me to stay down here," he says, surprised at my cold nature. I don't care. Let him suffer. He sure doesn't think very highly of us after abandoning us for all these years.
"In our house?"
"Is that a problem?"
Our gazes meet one another's for a solid ten seconds before I finally divert my eyes upward. "I'm making pancakes. I'll put the reversal spell on him in a little while."
"Where's Phoebe?" he asks.
"She has a boyfriend named David and lives in San Francisco."
He frowns. "What happened to Les?"
"They broke up two years ago," I snap. "You really ought to check in on things once in a while, you know? I mean, do you even realize you have a five-year-old niece? Her name's Mel, she's Les' and Phoebe's daughter."
"I knew that," he protests. "I'm not as ignorant as you might think."
"Ha!" I turn my back on him and walk into the kitchen.
"What's that supposed to mean?" he demands.
I don't answer, only start busying myself with pancake batter.
Leo
I really wish she'd stop snapping at me and acting so cold. I didn't do anything wrong—I had duties to fulfill. And it's not my fault Wyatt forgot to tell me Les and Phoebe broke up. What can she expect, that I pry into their lives all the time? She herself insisted I stay a whitelighter when we married. Doesn't she realize that I had no choice but to leave them?
Besides, it's not appropriate at a time like this. We have a great responsibility with a lighter in the house. We have to constantly be on alert. What can I do to make her realize the importance of this task? That boy up in Wyatt's bedroom could be the very key to the survival of the entire world. The key to her very own survival! She has to realize that his power alone is greater than the entire Power of Three.
"You know," she says while flipping pancakes, "it strikes me as a bit odd."
"What does?" I ask, surprised that she's actually saying something non-offensive for once.
"Not that I'm complaining," she says quickly, "but why wasn't Wyatt taken Up There? I mean, think about it. He's the wielder of Excalibur. You'd think that the elders would…" She shrugs it off. "I don't know what I'm thinking. I should be grateful that he's still here instead of Up There with the elders."
"Yeah, but you do have a point," I say thoughtfully. "The oldest lighter is probably about fourteen. After that age, if they're considered worthy, they'll advance to further training."
"What if they're not?" she asks quietly.
I swallow. "I'm not sure. I've never been a part of this before. I do know that if they question the Elders in any way, though, they can be…well, one of the Elders tried to explain to me that if the kids are the least bit rebellious, there's a chance that their great forces may be used for evil. They don't take that chance. They…"
"They what?"
"They've killed, Piper. I really do think that the Elders have killed one of the older lighters."
Her spatula drops to the floor. "We can't allow Chris to go back Up There!" she cries.
"You've named him?" I ask, shocked. "Piper—you can't—"
"Calm down, that's his real name. He told me so himself. Last night. I remember now." She picks up the spatula, glancing uneasily at me. "It's just a coincidence that he…you know. Has the same name."
I nod, still a little shocked. "Well, that's odd," I say lightly, trying to hide my surprise.
"Hm."
We sit in silence. We never have really talked about the boy we lost up until now.
"It wasn't easy, you know," she says quietly. I look over at her and see that she's staring down at the griddle, unable to face me. I'm lost for words. I know what she's saying. "You left us. First the baby was stolen, and then you left me to take care of Wyatt and mourn my second born. Where were you, Leo? Where were you when we needed you most?" There are tears in her eyes when she finally faces me.
Then we hear the crash from upstairs.
"The lighter!" I cry.
Piper's quick on her toes, muttering the reversal spell for the sleep he's in before I start orbing into the room. There's a demon carrying the boy's limp form, but then his eyes open in a flash. The reversal spell plays out and he's wide awake in an instant, not even feeling the usual grogginess left after a sleep spell.
I merely watch in amazement as he elbows out of the demon's grasp in one swift movement, whipping around and kicking him off his feet in the process. It's like when some innocent little kitty suddenly morphs into a dangerous tiger, the way he fights, though his face is still as empty and void as before. There is no fear, no surprise, no anger. He almost looks as if he were expecting it all along.
In less than a second, the demon's on his knees, clutching his side in pain and bleeding from the boy's blows. I'm surprised that he didn't even use any magic for the vanquish as the demon bursts into angry flames. Chris steps back, suddenly surprised at his own ability to do such a thing, then stares at the ashes.
Piper comes rushing in just as the scene ends.
"What happened?" she pants.
"He—wow," I marvel. "He just vanquished a demon without magic in like, less than two seconds flat."
"Are you kidding?" Her eyes grow wide, staring at the pile of ashes. "Well, then…who wants breakfast?" She laughs nervously.
Chris doesn't say anything, as usual.
Chris
My head is pounding and ears ringing. Could that really be one of the demons that the Elders were training us to defeat? It seemed so simple to stop. My eyes linger on the pile of ashes for a moment, a bit surprised that they'd made such a big deal over something I'd vanquished so quickly.
But why was it trying to take me, and where would it take me to? I couldn't be worth stealing. The Elders made it very clear with their punishments that we were not thought highly of.
"I made pancakes," the woman coaxes.
I vaguely wonder through the haze of demon-vanquishing what in the world a pancake is. Assumedly something to eat. I could not accept food or anything from these people; falling asleep here in the first place was a terrible mistake. How long had I been out? With every hour that went by, I knew my punishment would be more severe.
I stare up at her. "What was that thing?" I ask.
"A demon," she explains, staring up at the man. "Doesn't he know about them?"
"Of course. I'm just not sure he's actually come face to face with one before." His concerned glance follows mine. "Are you alright? That must have been…unpleasant."
I nod, not allowing myself to feel the fear that had radiated through me during the short battle. It was as close as I have ever come to showing emotion, and I knew that I would be severely punished if ever discovered for this crime of being afraid.
"Come downstairs with us," the woman says. "We'll get a few things straightened out, okay?"
I follow her down to the foyer from the night before and into a kitchen that smelled of something I'd never experienced before. It was an odd feeling; I'd never felt that food was appetizing before, but merely a necessity. We were served bread and water and not much else Up There. But I couldn't be comparing the foods, I remind myself, because that was punishable.
Everything was. I decide guiltily that for the time being, it doesn't matter. The elders can't read my mind. For now I'll merely enjoy the freedom of thinking my own thoughts and keeping them tucked away inside my mind.
That is, until the elders find me. Then I'll be the same as I always am. Void of any thought, without a reason or purpose to go on. What is our purpose? I begin to wonder with this new little treasure of thought I have allowed myself. When we're older, where will we go on to? What will become of us?
I remember the boy that spoke out around a year ago, and how we never saw him again. What became of him? I highly doubt that he was released. That was much too painless for the elders' liking. No, he was probably punished beyond any of our previous punishments. Either that, or he was…
The woman puts a plate of the pancakes in front of me with a fork and knife. They're round shaped and there's some kind of brownish liquid all around them. I keep my face expressionless as always, of course, but am suddenly curious as to the nature of this substance.
"Go ahead and eat," she tells me.
I stare down at the pancakes.
"What?" she asks, laughing. "You're acting like you've never seen a pancake before. Am I really that bad at cooking?" She frowns over at the man. "Haven't they ever had pancakes at the lighters' embassy?"
He shakes his head. "They aren't fed much, from what I hear," he admits.
I begin to wonder how much the people on earth eat if they consider what we eat very little.
"Well, they're very good. You can try some if you want…" Her voice trails off. "That's it. I just can't bear this anymore. It's not fair." She picks up a little pad.
"Let the emotions be unmasked
And allow thoughts to be free;
All contained by awful traps
Can finally be seen."
Thank you all so much for reviewing! I really enjoy writing this fic. Thanks for all the inspiration, everyone!