Hi again! This chapter took me longer than I had originally planned. My excuse? Inspiration overload. This was as far as I had planned the story, but last tuesday my muse decided to dump a HUGE amount of ideas on me, so I had a whole plot to sort through and a lot of elements to link together. And then, of course, I'm very lazy :P
Many thanks for your reviews, Ellethiel, AKKON and spitfire511! Special thanks to AKKON for her continuous support and for not letting me quit :P
This chapter won't clarify all the questions, but Aysha still has some things to explain... and then, of course, she doesn't know everything...
Enough talking, here's the chapter:
The resounding echo of the grandfather's clock fills the enormous space of the manor with its solemn, almost eerie midnight tune. Even though all the lights are on, no sound can be heard in the seemingly empty halls. No sound except, that is, for the steady tapping noise coming from the general direction of the dinning room.
'Tap' ' Tap' 'Tap'
The noise persists, now almost perfectly matching the clock's ticking.
'Tap' 'Tap' 'Tap'
It's irritating her so, and she's not the one with a reason to be nervous…
Lara sits on one of the dining hall chairs, her elbows casually resting on the table, hands folded in front of her mouth. She sits, of course, at the head of the long oak table.
Where else.
She is, after all, the host and the owner of the house. A fact that, she thinks, her two unexpected guests need desperately to be reminded of.
Mostly because no one has had the kindness of explaining to me what the hell is going on…
She sighs heavily, trying to block out the annoying tapping. Two seats to her left, the weird girl whose name (at least that she has been told) is Aysha sits, slumped in a chair. She has the look of a trapped animal, looking desperately for a way out, staring intently at her and Kurtis. He sits on the table, his feet casually resting on a chair, eyes never leaving Aysha. His gun isn't trained on her any longer, but he still holds it in his hand, hitting the table with it in a monotonous rhythm.
'Tap' 'Tap' 'Tap'
An obvious attempt to unnerve the girl, Lara thinks.
Well, it surely is unnerving me.
As Kurtis apparently decides that Aysha is nervous enough, he leans a bit towards her.
"Well?" he demands. She sighs in annoyance, but gives in.
"First I need to know what you know…"
"Where I come from, the guy with the gun asks the questions" Kurtis interrupts. She glares daggers at him.
"Where I come from, the guy with the gun is a walking, talking and shooting meal" she replies blankly, however with an evil little glare in her eyes. A light grin pulls at Kurtis' lips.
"Well, that takes us back to the main point, don't it? Where do you come from? Who-are-you?" he pronounces the words very carefully and slowly, as if talking to a retarded person.
Aysha shifts uncomfortably in her seat.
"I told you, first I need to know what you…"
"Why don't you just assume that we know nothing and tell us the whole story?" Lara intervenes, sick of being left in the sidelines. Kurtis gives her a brief appreciative look, before turning back to Aysha.
"All you need to know is that we were responsible for destroying the Sleeper. Now spit it out" he orders.
Aysha takes a deep breath. Lara can tell she is mentally counting to ten.
"Fine" she hisses. Then she sinks a little further in her seat and averts her gaze from Kurtis' "Do you guys know what a proto is?"
"Go on" Kurtis instructs. Lara gives him a puzzled look, which he returns with one of his own that clearly says 'I'll explain later'. Aysha, however, seems unsure about the truth in his answer.
"Yeah, but do you really know? I mean, have you ever seen a proto?"
"I've seen the proto. I killed it" he elaborates. Aysha's brow furrows in confusion at the statement. Then a flicker of understanding settles in her eyes.
"Oh, you've seen the proto! That freak puppy thing, right?" she asks.
Kurtis nods slowly. Lara can tell he isn't liking the course of this conversation one bit.
"Right…" Aysha continues "That one was a failed experiment…"
"That one?" Kurtis hisses, leaning forward even further.
"Well… yeah… he was supposed to be destroyed and all, didn't come out right…"
"You said 'that one'" he insists, impatience clear in his voice "You mean there's more?" Aysha sighs again. Then she lifts her head to face him. With a determined expression, she continues:
"The main purpose of the Cabal has always been to revive the Nephilim race, as I'm sure you know. To do that, they have stopped at nothing to reunite the five pieces of the Sanglyph, necessary to awaken the Cubiculum Nephili… do you follow?"
Kurtis nods.
"Right… but that was never an easy task to perform. They had nasty little holy brotherhoods on their tail, such as the Lux there. They spent centuries in never ending quarrels without ever getting the paintings. So… they decided they needed a quicker solution to their problem of creating an army of all powerful Nephilims to conquer the world: they turned to science. Genetic, more precisely."
"Yeah, we know all that, that's where the proto thing came from, blah blah blah… Move along a bit" Kurtis pushes.
"Ok, ok, fine, keep your pants on" Aysha retorts, irritated "The Proto, as you know, was the first of many specimens created by combining Nephilim DNA with, in this case, animal one. It was the first one who survived, at least.
The experiment was, however, a failure. They couldn't control their puppy, he wasn't smart enough to receive orders; whenever he was loose he'd have fun peeing on the carpets, jumping on people, licking and ripping throats out… the works. So they decided Neph DNA with animal one was out of the equation. Eckhardt had Boaz destroy it, which, as you know, she didn't do… And they moved on to the next stage. Human and Neph DNA"
Both Kurtis and Lara double their attention by this point. Aysha takes another deep breath.
"Why don't we just skip the methods and experiments, which I happen to be completely ignorant about, and go straight to the point?" she gestures dismissively "They made it"
A thick and heavy silence falls down and settles on the room. No one seems capable of uttering a word. Kurtis and Lara, processing; Aysha, carefully choosing the next words. She finally seems to settle for the pure and simple truth:
"I am number five. The fifth element of a group of seven successful experiments" bitterness tinges the word as it leaves her lips "created by combining human and Nephilim DNA with the objective of making the Cabal's little private army" She seems out of breath all of a sudden, the words dying in her throat. She lowers her head again. The silence descends once more.
No tapping this time. Only the steady ticking of the clock.
Lara's brain seems unable to process the information it has just received. There are seven lethal Proto Nephilims freely roaming the streets By destroying the Strahov complex, she had set them free…
Oh God….
"But how?"is all Kurtis manages to choke out. Lara glances at him out of the corner of her eye. For a moment, he seems to be having trouble in keeping his usual cool façade.
Aysha shrugs.
"Genetic manipulation, in vitro breeding… beats me. All I know is they made it. They came up with seven perfectly healthy proto babies. The only disadvantage: being only a quarter Nephilim, our powers are very limited. They aren't a half of the original Nephilim's ones and they take much longer to be developed…"
"What are your powers?" Lara asks abruptly, as if this vital little gem of information would help her understand the creature in front of her.
"Well… we're shape shifters, we can conjure energy bolts and use them against our enemies… we have superior brain power… in theory at least" she rolls her eyes and grins, apparently at some private joke "we have a small amount of control over the elements and we are over sensitive, meaning that we can perceive human feelings and natural disturbances with relative ease"
Kurtis just glares at her in disbelief. He asks the only logical question that happens to be crossing both his and Lara's mind at that moment:
"If that's all true, then why are we still alive?"
She shrugs again.
"I got nothing against you, really"
"Excuse me?" Lara cuts in, eyebrows irked in surprise and mild amusement at the girl's nerve.
"Well, thanks to you guys the sleeper went bye-bye and so did the great work… there's no more Strahov, no more Cabal, and me and my siblings are free. In fact, I should thank you"
"What about the whole taking over the world thing?" Kurtis retorts.
"I couldn't possibly care less about it. Listen, you don't get in my way, I don't get in yours. Everyone lives happily ever after"
"That is, of course, if we choose to believe you" Lara points out. Aysha allows a grin to grace her features.
"Of course, Lady Croft. I'm afraid all you have is my word, though. If it isn't enough…" The conversation is interrupted by an accusatory 'meow' coming from the dinning room entrance. Lara looks up to see her butler standing there, wearing a robe, The Cat leaning against his leg.
"Lara! Is everything alright?" he asks, concern more than evident in his voice. Lara stands up abruptly.
"Winston! I… yes, of course, don't worry. These people, they… they're my friends" she hastily grabs both of her guests by the arm and drags them towards the butler. Before they can utter a complaint of any kind, she starts with the introductions "This is Kurtis, Winston, from Paris. Remember I told you about him? And this Aysha, she's…" she digs deep into her brain for a convincing excuse, before her eyes stop on the similar blue eyes of the pair and on their dark hair. She has a sudden inspiration "…his sister! Kurtis and his sister! You guys, this is Winston"
Kurtis just glares for a moment, dumbfounded. Aysha, however, takes the cue with remarkable quickness.
"Hi, how're ya doin'?" she greets happily "It's nice to meet you at last, Winston! Lara told us a lot about you!"
"Really?" the butler asks, surprised "Well, it's nice to meet you too… Aysha. And you too Mr. Trent"
"Uhm… yeah, you too" Kurtis answers, awkwardly shaking hands with him. Winston throws Lara and the clock an inquisitive look and she realises it's time she came up with a good reason for why she's dressed in her pyjamas, talking to her two guests in the dinning hall at three in the morning. Aysha beats her to it, however.
"I'm sorry about the late hour, but you won't believe those bloody French planes! We were supposed to arrive at eleven! Eleven, fancy that!" Winston chuckles in sympathy and Lara sighs in relief as she realises he's buying it. The last thing she wants right now is to concern old Winston with Nephilim issues… And that Aysha kid seems to be a quick thinker… It may come in handy if…
What am I thinking? She's a Nephilim! Well, as good as…
Dismissing the thought, she takes the lead and cuts in:
"Yeah, fancy that, they had to wait four whole hours. Sorry Winston, I forgot to tell you they were coming"
A four hour delay? Oh please, that's ridiculous! Not even the most naïve innocent guy would…
"Oh, these airports are a mess these days, they are. Four hours! Will you just look at that!" Winston agrees.
Never mind that…
"Should I prepare two rooms for our guests, madam?" the butler asks. Lara rolls her eyes at him.
"Winston, for the last time in god knows how many years, stop calling me that" She scolds "And yes, please do prepare two rooms. Sorry about the time…"
"It's quite alright, dear" he assures her. Then he turns to Kurtis "Your rooms will be ready in a moment, if you would be so kind as to wait a few minutes…"
"Uh… yeah, of course, take your time… thanks" he replies, still a bit stunned. Winston bows slightly (earning a disapproving glance from his mistress) and hurries up the stairs.
As soon as Lara turns around, Kurtis is in front of her.
"His sister?" he repeats incredulously. Lara does her best to suppress a chuckle.
"Consider yourself lucky. I could've said she was your daughter" she deadpans. Kurtis is about to answer back, but she doesn't give him the chance "Oh, just let it go. Listen, you and I have a lot to talk about. But for now I think we should all get some rest"
Kurtis dares a glance back to find, with mild surprise, that Aysha is ducked on the floor, all her attention on the black cat. He leans closer to Lara.
"What about that kid?" he asks, keeping his voice low. Lara also stares at Aysha, unsure.
"Well… she did tell us who she really was… I mean, why would she do it if she was on the Cabal's side?"
"To gain our trust?" Kurtis offers. Lara twists her nose.
"I can think of at least a thousand different stories that would have been infinitely more trust-inspiring"
He shrugs.
"You think she's tellin' the truth then? That she doesn't want anything to do with the Cabal? You gonna trust a Nephilim just like that?"
"I don't know, ok? I never said I trusted her!" Lara retorts, aggravated "All I'm saying is that she doesn't appear to represent any immediate danger. I think we should give her the benefit of the doubt"
"Which is?"
"I'll let her stay here tonight. The both of you. There's a lot more that we need to talk about… tomorrow. For now, lets get some sleep, it's bloody three a.m."
Kurtis gives her a displeased look, but complies.
Go figure… the moron's realised that he's in no position to argue with me tonight. Good for him.
Lara nods. She turns around to find Aysha ducked, delightedly petting an extremely happy black fur ball. She doesn't know if she should be surprised by her behaviour or The Cat's. Either way, she has no time or patience for musings.
"Bed time" she states bluntly. Aysha looks up at her and Lara feels the hair on the back of her neck stand up.
I'll be damned if she isn't looking at me just like that cat…
As if to corroborate her thoughts, The Cat also gives her the same pointed look. Aysha's expression soon turns into one of confusion, however.
"Bed?" she asks "You lettin' me stay?"
"For tonight. This conversation is far from over" Lara replies firmly. Aysha just stares at her, dumbfounded.
"You trusting me?"
"We'll see" Lara has to try her best to keep a grin from tugging at her lips, the familiarity of the words taking her back four months, to the Strahov airlock where the first proper exchange with her stalker had occurred. Her expression promptly turns bitter, however, due to the thoughts of that man.
Of that bastard son of his mother who's left me FOUR WHOLE MONTHS thinking that he was dead… Oh he WILL be dead soon enough. Not before he tells me everything, though.
"Yeah, it's time for children to go to bed" the mentioned man adds, walking up to Lara's side. Aysha seems like she is about to reply, but decides against it at the last moment. As she stands up, Kurtis continues "We have a lot more talking to do tomorrow morning. Right now, bed"
Aysha gives The Cat one last longing glance before following them upstairs.
"What's her name?" she asks Lara as they are about to enter one of the many doors on the second floor.
"Huh?"
"The cat! What's her name?"
Lara shrugs.
"I haven't named her yet" Aysha looks at her, incredulous, as if Lara had said the most unethical and unthinkable thing in the world.
"You haven't named her? But she's yours, right?"
"Yeah, so?"
"So how come you haven't named her?"
Lara blows, annoyed.
"Look, you name her if you want" she finally says "Now go on, that's your room"
Aysha stares at the door and then back at her hostess.
"You serious?"
Lara looks at the door, confused.
"Yeah, go in! What's wrong with it?"
"No! I mean about the cat… can I actually name her?"
"Be my guest" Lara answers "Just move along now, will you?"
Making a poor job of hiding a happy smile, Aysha turns the door knob and enters the room.
Kurtis wastes no time in closing the door behind her.
"And don't even think about getting cute" he warns as Lara withdraws a small bronze key from a keychain and locks the door.
Aysha hears the clicking of the lock behind her and her lips curve in a sarcastic scowl.
Cautious little humans… good for them.
She allows herself a moment to take in her surroundings: a spacious room with pastel walls, peach coloured carpet and a large double bed.
Niiiiice!
Looking around as if to make sure she is alone, she runs to the bed and jumps on it, squealing like a little girl.
After a moment of childish enthusiastic bouncing, she sits still, coughing.
Put yourself together, Ysha, you're supposed to be a blood thirsty killing machine… oooooh fireplace!
All rational thoughts dissipated by the sight of the flames crackling in the recently spotted fireplace, she jumps out of the bed and goes to sit in front of it. Some dumb, almost animal magnetism draws her to the fireplace and she just sits there for a while.
In one of the parts of her brain, the only coherent thoughts are things resembling 'Fire pretty' or 'Here be warm'. In the other part, however, in the one that is always working no matter what, a whole line of thought is unrolling, too fast to even be elaborated.
They killed the Sleeper. They're good. But the guy's Lux .Lux don't like Nephilims. I'm a Nephilim. This bad.
Still watching the flames absent-mindedly, she tugs on a loose strand of red hair. Her eyes focus on the lock and she twists her nose at the excessively bright coloration.
Her pathetic attempt to add a little colour to otherwise dull, black and white features. You could literally say that Aysha is all black and white; natural dark raven hair, extremely pale skin accentuated by her usual choice of dark clothing… only her bright blue orbs stand out, besides her recent red acquisition, of course.
A long sigh escapes full lips, leaning her head on her hand. The by now usual powerless feeling washes over her tired body, beaten and sore from travelling on the plane's cargo compartment for a whole travelling hour (plus the two hours the plane stood still, awaiting to take off).
Note to self: in the future, wait for the passengers' boarding call to sneak into the luggage compartment…
She closes her eyes briefly, trying to fight the numbness that menaces to take over her body and mind. No matter how hard she tries, however, the familiar every night question surfaces from the sub-conscious part of her brain.
What now?
She blows in frustration, lifting a couple of red locks that are hanging in front of her eyes.
Now nothing. Lets see how this develops…
She can only wait. Wait and hope that she can find a way to prove to the humans that's she isn't just some freak experiment from hell.
As she stands up, she shakes herself mentally.
One of the vital steps if she wants to get along with them would be to stop calling them 'humans'.
Right… It's Lara… and…
She digs in her memory to come up with the Lux Veritatis warrior's name.
…Kurtis! That's it, Kurtis.
Aysha can't hide her displeasure towards the cocky and annoying male, not to mention the fact that he's a Nephilim hating member of a holy order.
And a prick.
She digs into the room's closet for some white (and slightly oversized) pyjamas, as a long yawn disperses her thoughts. She drowsily changes, leaving her clothes scattered all over the floor.
She slips into the bed, vaguely musing at how soft the covers are. As she is about to slip into unconsciousness, her thoughts fly to her scarce luggage, lying somewhere in the garden outside, behind a bush.
Kurtis turns around in his own bed in what seems like the twentieth time. He blinks in the dark, trying to make out the blurry numbers on the bedside table alarm clock.
4:30
He sighs. Another sleepless night. What the hell is wrong with him now? He talked to her! What else does he need to stop feeling so damn restless?
Ah, but did you actually talk to her? A little voice on the back of his mind taunts.
His brow furrows. Of course he did! He was talking to her when…
When the Nephilim came along… the voice answers And even before that… did you two actually 'talk'? Coz that sounded dreadfully like a married couple's senseless argument to me…
Oh, shut up!
Kurtis finally decides that whoever that little someone is, it needs to be put back in its place. It seems, however, that the voice doesn't intend to go away…
What, am I lying? Do you actually think that you don't need another conversation? That you don't need to clear things up?
Will you SHUT UP?
Go talk to her.
She's probably asleep.
Go. Now.
If I go, will you leave me the hell alone?
Possibly.
"Alright!" he exclaims out loud. He jumps out of bed, fuelled by restlessness and annoyance.
You realise you're loosing it when you start talking to yourself at 4:30 in the morning because of some woman…
He stops abruptly. He doesn't like that last little shred of thought one bit. Since when does a woman make him feel the need to justify himself?
Frowning, he continues at a slow pace through the hallway towards her room.
His last hope of finding her asleep and, therefore, having a reason to turn back, dies as he notices that the library's lights are on.
Swallowing the lump in his throat, he heads that way.
Lara sits on the windowsill, contemplating the darkened garden outside. The harsh wind whips the trees merciless, making them sway precariously in a frenetic dance of dark shadows and falling leaves.
A book rests on her lap, but she can't even gather the presence of mind to read it.
It's late. Very late. She should be asleep, getting ready for another day of explanations and, to her dismay, confrontations.
No matter how hard she tries, she can't stop the thought from haunting her mind.
It would be so much easier if he had actually died…
She feels horrible for thinking that, but can't help it. It's what she feels.
Four months…
Four. More than enough time to convince her that he was gone. More than enough time to accept, once again, that the people around her keep falling down like toy soldiers. Trembling little flickers of joy, gone as soon as the wind blows. The wind that she always stands in.
Even when she tries to escape it, the wind still blows against her. However, some sick irony of destiny dictates that she will not be the one blown away, but those around her. Always alone, watching the others come and go like short-lived little butterflies. No more than dream butterflies. Not there long enough to be real.
There was a time, however, when the wind did almost blow her away. A sandy, warm, skin-cutting southern wind that always brings back memories of darkness and claustrophobia. Of pain and fear. Of Egypt.
She shudders involuntarily.
"It's cold" she tells herself. She needs an excuse.
Trying for so long to gather that numbness, that coldness that would allow her to go through the wind unscathed, indifferent to the ones being blown away around her.
Werner had spoiled that four months ago. Kurtis had spoiled it now.
Why couldn't he just stay dead?
A shuddering breath escapes her lips.
Why couldn't I just have died instead of him?
She will never give voice or action to that thought. Never will she admit it to anybody. She doesn't blame herself, though. Everyone has the right to be tired. Tired of standing in the wind.
A soft knock draws her away from her depressing thoughts and she turns around to find Kurtis leaning against the library door, his eyes asking for permission.
"Come in" she says, a little too weakly for her own liking.
He enters the room, dragging his feet and goes to stand beside her, glancing through the window.
"So…" he tries after a few moments of contemplating.
"So…"
"So… how're you doin'?" Lara glares at him a little surprised by the question, trying to figure out just exactly what he's referring to. Deciding that he must mean it as a casual 'how're you doin', she shrugs and replies:
"Fine. You?"
"Fine" he replies after a moment of hesitation. She can tell it wasn't what he meant to ask.
Not the casual 'how're you doin' then…
Oh well. She'll play dumb for a while. Not that she feels like talking to him, anyway…
"Listen, I…" hesitation again. He's struggling for words, she can tell "…about earlier, I…"
"You nothing" she finally completes "Nothing forces you to give me any explanations"
He sighs deeply.
"Look Lara, I was away coz I needed to be. I'm not gonna tell you why coz there's no single reason and I'm not gonna tell you where coz, honestly, that's my problem"
"I never needed you to tell me where. Or why"
"Then WHAT did you need, goddamit?" he blurts out, unable to keep calm any longer "Why the hell do you keep treating me like I left you down or something?"
She stands up, her chocolate orbs piercing into his azure ones with glacial coldness.
"You didn't let me down. That would mean that, at some point, I had expected more from you. I never did" she pauses to breathe "I never wanted you to tell me where or why. Nothing. Just a note, a bloody note, just a sign that you were alive! IS IT THAT BLOODY HARD TO UNDERSTAND?"
He stares at her, his coldness matching her own.
"Why?" he asks blankly.
"WHY? Because I thought you were dead! And you weren't! Do you need any more reasons?" She'll never, ever admit that she was sick worried about him, not to that smug bastard. Instead, she prefers to deal with the subject as if he should have called her as a matter of common courtesy.
"Why didn't you look for me in the hospital?" he retorts "Three months. Don't tell me that you didn't have a couple of minutes in between those trials to phone the hospitals in Prague, not those many you know? You could even have had your butler do it for you, I mean…"
"WELL MAYBE I DIDN'T WANT TO CALL A HOSPITAL TO BE TOLD THAT THEY HAD YOUR CORPSE THERE, WAITING TO BE CLAIMED!" she shouts, unable to keep it in any longer "Maybe I didn't want to know" she concludes quietly.
She hadn't even admitted this to herself yet, not even in her deepest thoughts, and a weird feeling washes through her: on the one hand, she feels like a tremendous weight has just been lifted from her shoulders. On the other, she feels ashamed for having confessed to him that she had refused to believe in his death, that she had clung to the hope that he was alive.
She slumps on a chair, facing away from him. Suddenly the room seems to have taken to spinning slightly.
Kurtis can do nothing but stare at her, an unreadable emotion gleaming in his eyes. If anything, she can tell that he is just as surprised as her.
At least he's sensible enough not to probe her any further. As graciously as anyone in a similar situation can get, he turns around and leaves the library, a nearly inaudible 'good night' escaping his lips as he closes the door behind him.
There! And yes, Aysha gets a little... different when she isn't under pressure :P
Liked it? Say so. Hated it? Say so. Please, review, this is my first fic and I would really like to know what I'm doing wrong! All reviews welcome, even bad ones.
The next chapter will be up as soon as I figure out a name for 'The Cat' lol Sugestions welcome too!