ALiCE in WoNDeRLaND
-25-
Zione had stepped away from the group of Villikins, signaling that he was fine, and waved me over. I met him halfway and realized I was going to be a message courier for him and the rest of the group, a realization that seemed oddly familiar. Zione, it seemed, was the group's resident stuntman.
"Ask him where Fiore went," Zione asked.
I looked at Caol. "What happened to Fiore?"
Caol looked as if we had done this routine many times before. "I don't know."
"What does he mean he doesn't know?" Zione asked.
I asked Caol about it.
"I don't know," he replied hotly. "He just left. Didn't tell me where he was going or anything."
"Does he do this often?" I inquired of him.
"Hey, stick to our questions," Miyka'el shouted from across the room.
I looked at Zione, then back at Caol. "Well, does he?"
Zione shrugged. "I don't live with them or anything. How should I know?"
Caol didn't want to reply.
"Fiore's ran off before?" I asked again.
Something seemed to register in Nam's eyes, but he didn't mention it. Zale noticed, but kept quiet as well.
Aurick looked up from the ground and said something.
"What?" I asked.
"He ran off the last time you got amnesia."
I threw my hands in the air. "Why do we keep coming back to my God- forsaken amnesia?" I bellowed. I was really getting sick of it, but more than that, I had a sinking feeling that it was somehow all my fault, or the guys would assume that it had to be. I didn't know. It was just kind of creepy how everything seemed to be related, particularly to me.
"I see you're beginning to realize just how much of a hassle you really are," Miyka'el spoke up.
"This isn't my fault," I protested, as if that would actually make me feel better about it.
"She's got a point," Zione pointed out. "How could Fiore have known she had amnesia? Caol didn't know. We didn't know. She obviously was in no state to inform anyone."
Something about this still felt weird to me, but I was glad that Zione was defending me. I was worried that he was still upset about the mage's debate.
"If she wasn't here..." Miyka'el began.
"None of us would be, either," Zale argued.
Here we go again, I thought bitterly. It was all getting really old. I suppose I was starting to see what the guys were going through. It obviously wasn't easy dealing with me or my problems, or each other, it seemed. And what was this whole associate security business about, as well?
Almost unconsciously, I turned to Caol, only to see that he had drifted away sometime during this new argument, and I found myself looking away to search for him.
The guys were huddled in a circle again, this time discussing Fiore's strange disappearance, no doubt comparing this ordeal to the last time everything happened. I glanced their way once, and went to find Caol, almost mentally willing them to keep talking amongst themselves. They did.
Caol was standing behind a makeshift wall, covered with maps and diagrams of places I didn't recognize. He was staring at something I couldn't see, and before I could figure out a way to approach him, my attention was caught was a small red scar across his left arm, peeking out from under his sleeve. I stared at it as I stepped forward, instinctively reaching out to touch the upper part of his arm.
He turned with surprising speed, and I briefly wondered how he had known I was there. He seemed surprised to see me (who else was he expecting?), judging by his open-mouthed stare. He shook his head, quickly putting the astonishment away, and turned back to his hidden treasure, muttering something as he did.
"What?" I asked, almost as quietly.
He stared at me from the corner of his eye. "Don't touch me."
My mouth fell open this time. What the Hell? Was this even the same guy, I wondered. I obviously didn't have any kind of security device on me, like the guys, so why the sudden distance? The comment was so strange, a suggestion that was almost a commandment, but at the same time, it felt very off-hand, very distracted. What was on his mind?
* * *
-25-
Zione had stepped away from the group of Villikins, signaling that he was fine, and waved me over. I met him halfway and realized I was going to be a message courier for him and the rest of the group, a realization that seemed oddly familiar. Zione, it seemed, was the group's resident stuntman.
"Ask him where Fiore went," Zione asked.
I looked at Caol. "What happened to Fiore?"
Caol looked as if we had done this routine many times before. "I don't know."
"What does he mean he doesn't know?" Zione asked.
I asked Caol about it.
"I don't know," he replied hotly. "He just left. Didn't tell me where he was going or anything."
"Does he do this often?" I inquired of him.
"Hey, stick to our questions," Miyka'el shouted from across the room.
I looked at Zione, then back at Caol. "Well, does he?"
Zione shrugged. "I don't live with them or anything. How should I know?"
Caol didn't want to reply.
"Fiore's ran off before?" I asked again.
Something seemed to register in Nam's eyes, but he didn't mention it. Zale noticed, but kept quiet as well.
Aurick looked up from the ground and said something.
"What?" I asked.
"He ran off the last time you got amnesia."
I threw my hands in the air. "Why do we keep coming back to my God- forsaken amnesia?" I bellowed. I was really getting sick of it, but more than that, I had a sinking feeling that it was somehow all my fault, or the guys would assume that it had to be. I didn't know. It was just kind of creepy how everything seemed to be related, particularly to me.
"I see you're beginning to realize just how much of a hassle you really are," Miyka'el spoke up.
"This isn't my fault," I protested, as if that would actually make me feel better about it.
"She's got a point," Zione pointed out. "How could Fiore have known she had amnesia? Caol didn't know. We didn't know. She obviously was in no state to inform anyone."
Something about this still felt weird to me, but I was glad that Zione was defending me. I was worried that he was still upset about the mage's debate.
"If she wasn't here..." Miyka'el began.
"None of us would be, either," Zale argued.
Here we go again, I thought bitterly. It was all getting really old. I suppose I was starting to see what the guys were going through. It obviously wasn't easy dealing with me or my problems, or each other, it seemed. And what was this whole associate security business about, as well?
Almost unconsciously, I turned to Caol, only to see that he had drifted away sometime during this new argument, and I found myself looking away to search for him.
The guys were huddled in a circle again, this time discussing Fiore's strange disappearance, no doubt comparing this ordeal to the last time everything happened. I glanced their way once, and went to find Caol, almost mentally willing them to keep talking amongst themselves. They did.
Caol was standing behind a makeshift wall, covered with maps and diagrams of places I didn't recognize. He was staring at something I couldn't see, and before I could figure out a way to approach him, my attention was caught was a small red scar across his left arm, peeking out from under his sleeve. I stared at it as I stepped forward, instinctively reaching out to touch the upper part of his arm.
He turned with surprising speed, and I briefly wondered how he had known I was there. He seemed surprised to see me (who else was he expecting?), judging by his open-mouthed stare. He shook his head, quickly putting the astonishment away, and turned back to his hidden treasure, muttering something as he did.
"What?" I asked, almost as quietly.
He stared at me from the corner of his eye. "Don't touch me."
My mouth fell open this time. What the Hell? Was this even the same guy, I wondered. I obviously didn't have any kind of security device on me, like the guys, so why the sudden distance? The comment was so strange, a suggestion that was almost a commandment, but at the same time, it felt very off-hand, very distracted. What was on his mind?
* * *