The Beginning of an End

Chapter Eleven- Non ci è fumo con fuoco.

Italian Proverb- There's no smoke with fire.

Robin's mind flew like a wild crazed horse as she stood cautiously in the dark, damp-aired place filled with rigid shapes she assumed were stacks of boxes. She took careful steps dodging obstacles while she got used to the pitch-black darkness.

Robin somehow knew that Amon was in danger just by looking at the things that had happened to her up until the point in the room just minutes ago. She just couldn't catch up with it to have time to really analyze what was going on about her.

But why was it that she was so extremely worried like she never had before? Robin felt her amulet heat up under her T-shirt, or rather, it was her face blushing, spreading warmth throughout her entire body. It was true that she felt something she'd never felt before whenever immersing herself into thoughts about Amon…a strange choking sensation in her throat, which couldn't possibly mean anything. Does it?

"Amon?" Robin called out quietly, although she doubted it did any good. As much as she was careful about what was ahead, she didn't notice a pipeline right under her nose. Before she had a chance to make a sound, Robin's feet slipped right under her, causing her to fall forward with a dull thud. She thankfully avoided a tower of boxes which might as well have been full of heavy junks. Robin tried to regain her composure, embarrassed to herself. She spun her head around to look for something to grab on to…instead, she found him.

"Amon," Robin breathed. Something about him wasn't right. Robin wasn't sure at all whether she was to be glad or be disbelieved. Amon's head was limply laid to the side, dark strands of his hair fallen on to his rigid face. His arms seemed to be tied behind his back and his chest was as still as Robin's eyes.

"Amon…?" She called out again, almost in desperation to wake him up. Her pendent now felt like a piece of ice handing from her neck. Robin feebly raised her hand to Amon's a stubbly cheek which, to her surprise, still had warmth. Why is it that he looks so weak? Robin thought. She didn't know what to do. Is he…alive? She questioned, but she couldn't be convinced he was dead, either. Never.

She shifted her hand to his stagnant chest. It felt strong and broad even through layers of fabric, and she could feel the faint poundings of his heart. Robin loosed herself in relief.

She recollected herself, stood up, and flinched as her twisted ankle suddenly gave out pain. "Hold on, Amon." She whispered to the unconscious body on the floor. She, once again, felt a glow of warmth of her pendent.

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You are the witch's son, Amon. You are a witch. Fact cannot be denied…

"No!" Amon yelled as his eyes shot open. He was soon taken over by gripping pain on his chest and head, not to mention his now-loosened wrists. It was the voice of his father…or mother? He couldn't tell. He had forgotten them long before he wanted to…but whoever the voice belonged to, it had woken him again.

He ran his hands along the soft fabric he was covered in. How long had it been since he was this comfortable and secure?

Amon's dark eyes traveled around the silent homely room, and landed back on the edge of the bed, and immediately regretted bursting out yelling at his dream, which almost had become a routine. Strands of tangled blonde hair were spread on the bed sheet like a ray of sunlight, blanketing a fragile face. Robin's arms were under her head as a makeshift pillow with her lower body barely supported by a chair.

Amon didn't dare to move a muscle. He carefully eyed her cheeks with what looked like tearstains on them and her delicate face that wore years of loneliness and stress. Amon frowned slightly.

He snapped back into reality as pain struck again. He couldn't believe himself for what he'd just been doing. It was totally out of his morale, and felt as if he was slowly losing himself.

"Was it true that…you felt the same thing, big brother?" Amon muttered and closed his eyes. This time, he fell peacefully back into darkness. This time, he wasn't afraid.