Bracelet of Mentality
Disclaimer: See chapter one. I do not own anything but what I created.
Setting: Fowl Manor, Dublin, Ireland. An airplane.
Chapter 4: Contrivance of Resolution
A soft buzzing filled her ears as Amara graced the real world with her consciousness. If her Sisters had been right, then she would be on the personally owned jet that Artemis overused. Sure enough, once she opened her eyes, the small interior of a well-furnished fancy plane met her, flaunting at her the fact that she was a street kid who would never, under normal circumstances, have ever been on such an extravagant aircraft.
As she rattled her sore body to life, she came to recognize several new developments. First, she was wearing new clothes. They weren't first degree, look-at-me-I'm-filthy-rich clothes, but they were better than what she'd been wearing (by her captor's opinion, of course, not hers). Secondly, along her elbow was a clean mess of gauze that was succeeding at its job. A small clot of blood had gathered under the white material and appeared to be drying there. Last on her list of new revelations was the fact that about her neck hung an interesting object. If she didn't know any better, she'd say it was a collar. Amara decided to take an optimistic view on it and stay with the thought that the necklace matched her new outfit and was a gift.
The subtle click of the cockpit door closing announced a new arrival into the room. Amara swiftly sat erect on the couch of which she had been placed and turned to him. It was a boy, around her age almost exactly, but his eyes told a different story. So much intelligence lay behind those piercing globes; knowledge and power crept forth from his mind, via the vibrant orbs that swiveled relentlessly in his head. They were like hawk eyes that were searching for prey. When they finally settled, Amara's stomach dropped. She was the prey of choice today.
"Hello. I do believe we haven't had the pleasure of meeting. I am Artemis Fowl II, only son of the Artemis and Angelina Fowl. You are currently aboard my personal jet, en route to my humble home in Ireland. You understand, of course, that we had to remove those- and please, excuse my words if they offend you in anyway- disgusting rags that were scantly covering you. I have generously replaced them with rather mediocre clothes, although they are much better if I do say so myself." He paused for a breath. "And you are?"
Amara raised an eyebrow. Was it just her, or was his attitude screaming arrogance? She didn't mind the insults he'd thrown at her. Her entire life all anyone had done, aside from tirelessly chase after her and attempt to murder her, was shoo her away and look down on her. They didn't understand what it was like and neither did he. She saw no reason to even speak to him, but why not? It wasn't like she had anything else to do.
"My name is Amara Callaghan. I'm from America, born but not raised. I've lived on my own for a very long time, enjoying the sights and smells when I could. Those 'disgusting rags' you removed", she emphasized her point by making the quotations with her hands and mocking his voice, "were my only clothes, so now I own these. I don't really like people like you. They don't know what there is to enjoy in life. Also, I don't like jets, even though I've never been on one. I despise arrogance and I'm not taking a shower, so live with the smell." She paused. "Did I mention I hate people like you?"
"Twice now." He smiled insincerely.
"Good. Glad you were paying attention. Now, I'm pretty sure I have this whole plan of yours down, but let me check it with you.
"You, the evil mastermind child genius jerk, kidnap us, the innocent Sisters. We are thus gathered and rounded up to be taken to some part of your homeland where we supposedly lived over several thousands of years ago. Please, stop me if I at all stray from the path here, or begin to sound in any way crazy.
"Once we are at this rundown castle or whatever it is, you plan on dominating our powers to use us to annihilate the entire world. Then, when you're done and there is nothing to rule in the end, we are maybe, possibly, but probably not going to be allowed to have free reign over ourselves. Is that right?"
A snicker escaped him. "Something like that, except the end; when I rule the world, that part. You see, I'm not demolishing the entire world, just the parts that resist. Not everyone will, because once they realize what happens to those that do, they'll give in to me."
"Oh, I see. So, what happens to those that resist, oh powerful leader?"
He sat down on the sofa opposite her. "I use you and your lovely siblings against them. They are destroyed; everyone else is aghast, but smart enough to give in. Game over. A happy ending for all."
"Except the ones you murder," she spat.
"Correction, the ones you murder," he returned. "Also, the part where you maybe, possibly, but probably don't get your powers back, that never existed. You'll never have them back, Betraying Angel. Not as long as I live."
Amara jumped on him, grabbed his tie, and pulled him close. Those ever-knowing eyes bulged. "That won't be very long if I can help it, boy!" Amara said as she began to pull on the tie, restricting his airflow as she went.
"Butler!" The weak cry scarcely made if from his throat before the bodyguard reacted. He flew into the room. Amara didn't know what happened, but she was suddenly on the floor and being suffocated by a large man. His face came into view and she began to struggle. This was the man that had shot her!
She was flipped onto her stomach and her arms pinned behind her. The situation was hopeless. Above her, the man was preparing to knock her out; she was positive of it. The Sisters had told her how fond these two were of sedatives. Sure enough, a moment later the sharp needle of a hypodermic syringe was plunged into her arm.
Darkness began to take her again, but she wasn't down yet. Amara forced her head around so she was facing Artemis. His face was red, and a nasty welt was evident from her rude ministrations. Seeing that made her feel better.
"Hey, Artemis, I forgot to tell you something. If you see my Guardian, run like hell. She won't let you make use of us. She'll kill you, just like us. Watch out for Adamina Brandt. Even your Monkey Man here won't be a match for her."
And Butler, tired at being called a monkey and gorilla for several days on end, knocked her out then and there. A quick chop to the back of the neck and Amara's head cracked onto the floor when she came down.
A harsh wind was her only greeting into the Other Realm. The beautiful spring land from before was gone, now replaced by a frosty world of snow and rain. 'Wait, that didn't make sense, she thought. Can it rain and snow at the same time? Is that even possible? How weird…' Another breeze blew by, gripping her tightly, swinging through her hair and then floating off. Apparently, anything was possible here. "
Huyen? Deidra?" she screamed across the distance, competing with the incessant wind to see who could be the loudest. She won out, or so she hoped. "Guys? Where are you? Hello?" She was about to call again but for the nasty snicker she heard behind her. Amara peered frightfully over her shoulder, afraid of what she would find. It was a man… or was it?
She couldn't really tell. Whoever it was, they enjoyed the color black far too much. The person was clothed from head to toe in the dark color. A sword hung at their hip, two scabbards on the back, and one dagger in each hand. This person did not seem friendly at all. "
Hello," he said. Oh yes, it certainly was a male. His voice was incomparable to the ice land around her. Of the two, the surrounding area was a desert. So cold and emotionless was his voice. "Looking for your Sisters, Angel?"
"How do you know who I am and who they are? Who are you?" she questioned.
He sat on a rock that Amara would have sworn wasn't there the moment before. The daggers were resting calmly in his hands until then. He started to twirl them back and forth, his eyes on her. "I know a lot of things. That comes with being alive for over several millennia. Knowledge, power; I know those sorts of things. As to your siblings… I'm afraid I've sent them back to the Real World. You don't mind, I'm sure. Besides, those idiot humans kept them here too long. It was driving me crazy."
"So, you live here?"
"No. When I meditate, this is where I come. I'm from your world, Betraying Angel. My name- well, no one knows my name anymore- but you can call me The Mercenary."
"M-mercenary?" she stuttered. "As in kill-and-murder-people mercenary or kidnap-and-return-to-rich-person mercenary?" "
The former. The Sisters of Doom. Every time you three come back, I have to kill you off again. It's very tiring." He paused, staring at Amara. "What?"
"You're the one Dei and Huyen were talking about. The guy that dresses in all black and keeps turning up. I can't believe it took me that long to remember. Your name- that must have been what set it off."
"What are you talking about?" he questioned suspiciously.
"My sisters, the Sisters of Doom. We worked out a plan and we wanted to tell it to you. Please tell me that you listened to them before sending them back to the Real World." She couldn't read his emotions; the mask hid everything. What she didn't expect was for him to burst out laughing. "What's so funny?"
"Now! Now, of all times, you three decide to make your own plan! Do you have any idea how long it has been since your creation? Millennia ago, you three were the first generation. You warred with the entire world and got sick of murdering and destroying things. You all wanted to die simply because your youngest sister, the Reaper, was so devastated by her power. Your Guardians failed to kill you. Thus, I was created, and I destroyed you. However, the time loop, and your father… we are in a never ending cycle. It doesn't matter what you three do. Everything is for the Guardians to decide. If they ever gather up enough courage and wits to kill you, I will cease existing. So will the Sisters of Doom."
"But, Huyen- I mean, the White Bringer- she's sure of-"
"It won't work!" he jutted in, angrily. "Don't you understand? You have no power over this. The boy, he'll bring you to your old home, the Castle of Frond. He'll loose your powers on the world and I'll destroy you all again, then again in the next generation- for all of time. If those damn Guardians would just figure it out!" He stopped short. From his eyes alone, Amara could tell he was upset, agitated, and afraid. Then it was gone. He wore a mask over his mind as well as his face. "You'll have to excuse me now. I'm being called. Don't put any faith in your Sisters' plan, Angel. It will fail, I guarantee it. The only way would be for you three to get the Guardians to destroy you, but- never mind. That's just wishful thinking." He stood and turned, then vanished.
"You idiot," she whispered to the silent world, "That's what I was trying to tell you. We're going to get Artemis to take us to them, and then make them kill us. Even if we are only kids, we're willing to… sacrifice ourselves." She burst out crying then, not being able to hold it in. "For the sake of everyone else, we, the Sisters of Doom, are ready to die. Please, Mercenary, have some faith in us. We are trying to end your torment."
Author's Note:
Well, another one's gone and done now. I'm feeling a bit better about my story, thinking I might, just maybe, be out of my writer's block, but knock on wood, you know? Ah, Heather, my ever so wonderful friend. You have no idea how much you make me laugh. You're crazy, as are we all, but I think I'm pulling you down a steeply slanted hill here. Relax, so you made a mistake or like five. It's about fricking time! Do you know how long I've waited for that to happen? (Aren't I just a supportive friend? Lol)
Anyway, if you really want me to send those chapters to you so you can re-edit them, I will. Don't panic. Also, it's GUHSDHO, but I agree with you. None of you guys will ever find out what that is.
Thank you, Adele Starminister. I appreciate that compliment very much. And thank you, I think I'm finally through the stupid block. As always, thanks much for reading, and feel free to review. Just remember, it isn't a popularity contest, and I'd never win if it were. Keep an eye open for the next chapter. Finelley
