TOUCHING GOD
"You're not going anywhere, Kathain."
Leanna paused.
They kept calling her this Kathain person, this name that felt so utterly alien and completely foreign to her. And, yet, it screamed familiarity. Like a dream of a memory, or a memory of some faded dream. Absently, Leanna pondered who Kathain was, who she was to them that they hunted her so much. This person had to be important- and probably at least two shades of evil- for them to hunt her so.
A cold chill ran up her back. Leanna made mental note of it but ignored the sensation. Instead, she focused all her might upon Brett, the fire elemental. She spread her wings ever so slightly, trying to look bigger and badder than she really was. Leanna hoped to force the young man with the stormy blue eyes and black mop cut to back down through the force of sheer intimidation. Sensations such as fear or trepidation were unknown to Leanna and utterly unnecessary.
And, yet, Brett refused. He was Thirteen. Blood of the ancient legacy coursed through his veins, thick and rich with the ages. The elemental could face anything and, even if he died, come back in the long haul. Brett would not be threatened by a turncoat oracle.
"I'm not letting you go," Brett said sternly.
Leanna didn't respond. She didn't care. It didn't matter. There were too many reasons for her to argue, to fight, but, in truth, Leanna wanted to know the truth.
"Zaizen sent me to kill you. I'm letting you go," the girl whispered in his ear.
Geoff folded his arms across his chest, a sly smirk spreading across his face. "Funny, looks like we're letting you go."
"And we're not," Brett contested hotly.
Nycole shook her head. "We are."
"We're not."
The empath stood taller. "We are."
Brett looked down, shaking and trembling like a leaf, hanging his head. "We can't." He leveled a knowing gaze upon Leanna. "She knows too much."
Leanna turned her head, a predatory gaze flashing over her eyes, flickering there and dancing for a moment, lingering in the faintest of shadows behind her darkly blue irises. "You really want to stop me? Zaizen will hunt you down like dogs."
"You still know too much."
"No, she doesn't," Nycole argued in the assassin's stead. "Everything Kathain knew, it's all gone. Everything that was Kathain is gone. Nothing's left."
Brett balled his fist but stood. The empathy felt his mind quake as his body trembled. He couldn't let Kathain go. Not after all this. Not after they'd gotten so close. He couldn't just allow her to walk away. Brett squeezed his hands, digging his long fingernails into the flesh of his hand.
"She poses no threat to us, doesn't really want to harm us," Nycole argued.
Leanna just sniffed at the air. In truth, the empath didn't know if the assassin really would pose any real danger to them. She couldn't tell if their former friend, this creature without emotion, harbored any ill will towards the Thirteen. But, if Leanna did, if she felt even the slightest twinge of hatred or anger, they would know it. No. Leanna did what was required, and nothing more. Creatures without emotions had no aspirations.
"Let her go."
Brett glared at Leanna for a moment. "I… I…." His head dropped, gazing at his feet. "Go."
"What?" Geoff blurted out.
The fire elemental didn't lift his head. "Just get out of here, Kathain."
Leanna gave a small nod of acknowledgement and brushed past him. The scent of her filled Amon's nostrils as the girl passed. It was so utterly familiar and, yet, vaguely different from the unusual softly clean scent of her wings. Like vanilla blossoms, clean linens, and mellow hay, all mixed in one. And those feathers, how soft they were as the dainty things just ever so lightly graced his skin. The man had to hold his hand back from reaching out after her, fighting the urge as Leanna stepped silently beyond him.
"I will not hunt you anymore," Leanna breathed, the words falling shortly from her mouth and almost vanishing into the night. "I will not help you either. I will do what is needed of me."
Just when Amon thought he had quelled the longing in his fingers, he turned sharply on one heel and reached out suddenly, grabbing at air. It seemed for the faintest of seconds, the merest of heartbeats, that his fingers would find purchase on those wings, but Leanna arched her back out at just that moment. Her wings spread ever so slightly with the motion, with the sweetest of inhalations, before exploding out in a puff of snowy down. That was all that remained as she skulked off, into the night.
Robin knelt down, feeling the weight of the world on her shoulders. She reached out and gingerly took up out of those feathers. It felt so airy, so ethereal in her hand, almost non-existent. Just like Kathain.
"We can't let her go…." Amon argued. "We've come this far."
Nycole nodded slowly. "Kathain still has a part to play. It's just…. Who knows what part?" The empathy looked down. "Right now…. We just need to regroup."
"Regroup?" Brett shouted the word hotly. "What in the hell is that supposed to mean?"
The empathy shuddered. "We go back to Atlanta. Back to Markus."
Sierra waited.
She had been waiting for years, for centuries.
She had known her whole life, all of her lives, running back to the beginning.
Sierra was a patient soul.
She saw the faltering in the other Thirteen, where her lot held strong. The others wavered, bickering and arguing amongst themselves. Sierra could see it.
They could use this to their advantage.
The girl held her pendulum over the map, as it swung in long, languid circles. America stretched out beneath it, a glossy representation of the nation, laminated. Down in the corner, a cartoon mouse cheerily waved from it's spot, welcoming visitors to different historic sites across the nation, all depicted with their own characters. It was so macabre, but it was the only thing Sierrra had at the moment.
The pendulum gave a long, luscious swing.
Sierra whispered the word. "Thirteen."
The quartz crystal, a rounded sort of tear drop, seemed the sing and hum in response.
The girl uttered the word again. "Thirteen."
The crystal slowed, seeming to stall. And, then, it snapped to a city. Cartoons in huge, hoop skirts and others riding on horseback adorned the neighboring area. Sierra's lips curled into a knowing smile.
"Atlanta it is."
xxxx
The cards told him everything.
They showed Markus the failure of those who had once been so loyal and friendly to him. He knew they had lost the great Kathain Bowen. A good thing. It had been that traitorous bitch, that Oracle's foresight that had lost Markus the Warriors.
It was better without her.
It would bring them back.
xxxx
Dane had never been one for fiction. He always like books of truth, books of honest, open answers and of facts. The man lived for it, hungering for knowledge. He cracked open the pages of Stephen Hawkin for the four hundredth time that night.
Perhaps it was just something to the world.
He always enjoyed the rough and tough action films of the 1980's. His childhood was spent rooting for Arnold against the Predator, Sigourney Weaver against the aliens, and even Jason against all those stupid meat puppets that ended up his victims. No one should ever misunderstand that Dane didn't find amusement in fiction and especially in movies and books. But, still, there was something to the mysteries of the universe, of life, that attracted him to books on theoretical physics, science, and philosophy.
Somewhere in the corner of his room, a dusty, broken, battered copy of Machiavelli's The Price lay. It had been the first book that seemed to open Dane's eyes to philosophy. It was also the most prized book of his collection.
Dane didn't even know why he chose to leaf through the book again. It had been a long day at work, and an even loner night at the concert, setting up and playing. Being in the band, working a steady job, and doing side jobs all the time was taking a toll on his body. The man new it. He was young, perhaps only 23, and already his knee seemed to be shearing apart. His blood pressure had to be through the roof between running all over Atlanta during rush hour every day. The man should have been sleeping.
Even then, his eyelids drooped.
Sleep hunted him.
xxxx
Thirteen.
Ancient Glory.
Ancient Evil.
A voice.
A distant star.
A girl, lost in chaos.
xxxx
Dane surged back awake, covered in a cold sweat. His dreams so often raped and pillaged his own mind, leaving the man with little to no memory of what had just happened. It left but a welt, a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.
"I hate it when that happens."
xxxx
The hotel felt cold and lonely.
Robin had a feeling it would. She packed silently, wordlessly. Fortunately, they had been careful, keeping just about everything in bags, always ready to flee at a moment's notice. It was part of being a fugitive, and, sadly, a part of life that Robin had grown so horribly accustomed to.
But not anymore.
She didn't need to be a part of this. This world of Amon's, these people, it was never meant for her. The teenager paused, giving a quick glance to the former hunter where he lay slumbering on a couch. He seemed so peaceful, and, yet, so utterly tense. His entire body screamed fear. This was not the man Robin had worked side by side at the STN-J with. This was an entirely different creature. Amon of the Thirteen. Robin didn't know what he was anymore.
Robin left, pausing to ease the door to the hotel room shut behind her with just a barely audible click. It thundered in her ears.
And in Kristo's.
"Where do you think you're going?" his voice bellowed, so close, but so distant in the shadows and the darkness of night.
Robin swallowed. "I have to leave."
"You, too?" the swordsman seemed to be teasing her, as a faint lilt echoed in his words.
The Craft user nodded. "This is his life, not mine. I'll only be holding him down."
"Are you sure?"
Robin looked down, not wanting to watch as the shadows pooled in front of her and Kristo stepped out onto the landing. "Please don't make this any harder than it already has to be…."
He didn't say another word. The shadow walker embraced her for but a moment, hugging her in his strong arms. Sometimes, from a person like Kristo, that was all you needed. Just a big hug, and simple silence to keep from going insane. And, just like that, he was gone, melting away into the black of his Craft.
And, just like that, Robin was gone, too.
xxxx
Departures….. well…. I have nothing to say at this moment. Anything I say will just be giving away plot. Ciao!