Hello! bestknight32 here! guess who figured out how to upload a new chapter, bold authors note, add a image to the story! thats right this guy right here! apologies to anyone that got confused by the beginning of the first chapter I put lines to make it seperate the authors note from story but it disappeared! Also i like thank dahliingg from the deviant place for making this story! Alright thats all until next time! "Marty! Its time! Time to go back to the next chapter!"
Why are they after me?
The question persisted but the answer eluded him. There were so many things that frustrated him in that moment, the current battle that was raging around him notwithstanding, but the most jarring circumstance was the vacancy in his mind. At a time where there were many things he did not know the only thing that he was certain of was that his intelligence was sharp, that it could be used as a weapon just as well as it could be used as a salve, but now it was nothing more than empty space and no matter how far he reached out … he found nothing.
A voice calling out his name pulled him out of his thoughts and he blinked, once and then twice, to allow the face of Amiya to focus into view before he saw the look of panic and apprehension painted vividly on her face.
"Doctor! Did you hear me?!" she cried out, her own body hunched and cowering with his even though she was positioned between him on the oncoming assault.
Who was he to her that she would display such loyalty? Why were any of them so invested in his well being that they would fight to protect him? These were all the things he wanted to ask but time was luxury that neither of them had and a loud blast followed by the groans from several allied guards placed urgency on his response.
"Yes! Yes!," he replied, his head nodding to affirm his understanding as one of his hands rose to grip Amiya's small shoulder to allow them to switch positions so that he could better see the assault. His eyes narrowed, trying to make sense of enemies and allies through the rain of rubble and smoke, and soon after making a mental note of the count his head snapped around to review the terrain. Parts of what used to be vacant office space was now torn apart, desks nothing more than splinters and chairs blown in pieces with large chunks of wall with ceiling peppered between them. It was effective cover against the barrage of arrows that were being cast in their direction, each of them narrowly missing their mark as members of Rhodes Island cowered deeper into their cover waiting for a moment to strike … waiting for an order to fight back.
He inhaled deeply, feeling the war filling his lungs, and it was this essence that sharpened his mind as he turned back to face Amiya with a much more determined expression on his face. Gone was the man riddled with questions and burdened by the lack of answers; he was replaced with a much more familiar face, at least to Amiya.
"Amiya. We need to take out the backline. We can't take much more of this," he spoke quickly, concisely, with his finger pointing to a vacant spot in the back of the room that had seemingly avoided the Reunions attention.
"When I say, run to that far corner and wait for my order."
Amiya nodded her head once, her ears flopping for a moment as she did before they were, once again, erect atop of her head. The Doctor returned the gesture in kind and poked his head up from behind the large piece of rock they took refuge behind, assessing the small ceasefire as the Reunion thugs reloaded before another onslaught came and he lowered his head to feel the close zings of arrows that chunked bits of rock to land on his back and shoulders.
"Return fire! Cover her!" His voice echoed through the room, rumbling past the noise easily so that several heads turned to face him at the sound of his command. They nodded, swift and sure, and several of the guards immediately rose their heads from behind their cover and fired several rounds of shots. Some were targeted while the others were an erratic spray, just chaotic enough to allow Amiya a small window of opportunity to leave the Doctor and run to the corner of the room as instructed. She was hunched low, her ears tucked safely against her cheeks as she sprinted to the next point of cover, and when he saw her safely make her way across the fray he finally released a breath that he didn't know he had been holding.
One part down, a thousand moving parts to go. Battle was a game of chess, there was no difference regardless of the difference in brutality and chaos, and the Doctor reassessed their new positions with keen interest and found that, even with Amiya's new distance, they were still able to communicate easily.
"You need to take out the backline," he called out to her, his gaze leaving hers for a moment so that she could follow his gaze to see two archers poised in the back position. They were well covered behind the forward guards, blunt and brutal instruments, hoping to distract them from the lethality that hid behind them but the Doctor was clever enough to see past this tactic.
He saw Amiya nod and a braver face crossed her features, more determined and focused, and for a moment she stood up straight behind the sanctity of cover to make herself an easy and almost tempting target.
"Amiya!" he called out, panic and fear in his voice, but Amiya did not turn and instead rose her arm with her palm out and flat towards the Reunion members that had finally allowed her to capture their attention.
What was she doing?
He started to rise from his own covered position but was met with a barrage of arrows, violent and well-aimed, which forced him back into a cowering position as he watched Amiya standing and almost waiting for the rate of fire that was about to come her way. When it did come, and several of the Reunion men turned their attention and their fire towards her, it was almost too much for him to watch but he forced himself to keep his attention firmly fixed upon her.
Why was she not afraid?
There was something different about her then, something that seemed to come within, and it manifested into a deep red and almost black illumination that centered onto her palm. It grew its size, slowly, swirling it's manufactured madness into a ball against her palm that seemed to grow past the point of comprehension and, for a moment, he thought that this was the danger that she was about to suffer from.
"Amiya! Get down!"
His cries were too late, the blackness that swirled around the red now danced around her body and seemed to create an energy that blew the flaps of her jacket around wildly but still she did not seem afraid. If anything, determination and power was obvious in her voice as she let out a fierce cry and the red energy solidified into almost hardened projectiles that immediately left her hand and flew directly into the chests of two Reunion members. Low grunts could be heard as they were knocked back, each of the backline now taken out as they writhed on the floor and clutched at their chests, and it was only after Amiya had seen that her aim was true that she ducked back down under cover just in time to avoid another volley of arrows.
What…
He felt as if he was in a daze now, questions assaulted him as he looked over to see that Amiya was unchanged, at least physically, and didn't seem at all disturbed by what she had done. What had she done? He opened his mouth to speak but no words came out, no single line of questioning was going to resolve the turmoil in his mind, and it was well worth the pause as Amiya stood back up again and fired another energy volley that collided into the back wall and cleverly caused pieces of it to rubble onto the floor and cut off the current fray from any reinforcements. For a moment they were disorganized and disoriented, and despite what he may have felt the Doctor was quick to order their own guards to suppress them while the moment presented which allowed Amiya the time to run back to his side.
He could tell that she was out of breath, either from the power necessary to do what she had done or the adrenaline from the moment, but when her calm eyes rose up to finally find his she gave him a smile; a simple smile, sweet, as if what she had just done and the power she had displayed was as easy as breathing.
"What was that?!" he questioned, almost aggressively now that the taste of panic and fear had begun to dilute itself from inside of his mouth.
"What?" she replied back, genuine confusion crossing her face and causing her ears to twitch for a moment.
"That! The … the power … the … what you did?" He couldn't explain it, not when he didn't know if there was a name for it, but Amiya was quick to pick up on his lack of understanding and began to quickly offer as many answers and she could provide.
"It's Originium Arts, or Arts. It's like … magic, in a way," Amiya explained with a softer tone, her hand moving to rest on the crook of his elbow as if she knew that she was guiding him towards an understanding that his mind couldn't possibly comprehend.
"Magic? You can't be serious," he rebutted, almost scoffing at the idea that such a thing could exist, and Amiya sighed at his immediate dismissal.
"I said like magic," Amiya clarified. "If you're exposed to Originium for long enough you develop abilities and … other symptoms," she continued, her voice almost sadder now that she vaguely discussed the symptoms that could be associated with such unprecedented power.
"Symptoms? What kind of symptoms?" he questioned with his own grave voice, suddenly feeling worry flourish for Amiya's sake and his own medicinal mind started to rev into gear. Considering the power that had been displayed, he questioned whether this was something he knew and couldn't remember and, further to this, if he had some hand to play in the Arts and how it affected Amiya.
Did it affect them all?
"We don't have to talk about it now," she replied hurriedly, a hushed whisper like she wanted to avoid the subject entirely.
"Can you all do that?" The Doctor pressed on, undeterred by Amiya's words as he delicately took hold of her arm, above the elbow, to pull her attention back to him. Although he knew that this was neither the time or the place, his mind was already filled with questions for him not to try and put some of them to rest, and after seeing what Amiya could do, he was afraid it had only gotten worse.
"Some of us are infected, yes."
"Infected?"
What little he could discern from Amiya's half answers was that, for whatever reason, this Originium exposure created unbelievable power as a symptom and, to others, they were considered infected. How such a thing, such power and potential, could be seen in such a negative light was still not known to the Doctor and the confusion showed on his face enough for Amiya to pick it up.
"It's one of the reasons why they attack us. The Infected. The more we use our powers the worse the Oripathy gets."
"Then why use the Arts?" The Doctor questioned, unsure as to why they would use such power when it came with such risks.
"We have no other choice," Amiya responded quickly, almost saddened by the fact that there was little choice. It was becoming apparent to the Doctor that it was a matter of survival, regardless of the fact that they were slowly slipping away to an infection that he had yet to understand; to succumb to death on their own terms, that was what this was about.
Their ill-timed but necessary conversation was halted when a Rhodes Island guard groaned in pain and fell to the floor, his gloved hand clutching at his shoulder where an arrow had pierced the sweet spot between two plates of armour. Both the Doctor and Amiya shared looks of concern, and the Doctor was first to stand up to try and rush to the man's aid as a sort of reflex that came with a knowledge set that he knew he possessed, but Amiya was quick to grab him by the shoulder and force him back down to her side. The Doctor struggled against her with a twisted expression on his face, looking upon his strange eared companion as if she had lost all empathy and sense, but she pointed across their makeshift battle field towards a smaller and more gentler looking girl that had already come to the man's aid.
"She can heal him," Amiya offered, her chin tilting towards the scene of the two of them as if urging the Doctor to prescribe just that.
Heal?
It was a strange word. The more hopeful among them often liked to believe that doctor's were healers, that there was something divine about what they did, but he was of the opinion that this was a cold comfort; a way to believe that there was more at work to saving people than the knowledge of man. The Doctor quirked his face at this, wanting to take the opportunity to refute, but there was no time for such things as the man's groans of agony became louder than the battle itself.
"Help him, for God's sake!" he shouted to the girl at his side who, despite his aggravation and tone, gave him an understanding nod and hovered her hand over his wound. The arrow had been removed delicately, almost with no pain to the man, and the Doctor's annoyance was obvious as it appeared that the girl was simply going to kneel next to the guard with her hands over his body and let him succumb to his injuries.
Just as he was about to move to speak something extraordinary happened, the same brand of extraordinary that had occurred when Amiya had taken out the backline, and a light blue and white light began to grow and pulse from her path. It was different from Amiya's, more soothing to watch, as if it was a song that lulled all those around it, and it seemed to work on the man who had begun to relax and cease his writhing and pained cries. The Doctor was in awe as he watched, silent and unmoving, his gaze fixed upon the light to see how it almost danced upon the guard's skin and, in the places that he could see, began to mend the jagged wound that had threatened him with death only moments before. When the girl was done she leaned back and sat on the ground, both hands poised behind her to keep her upright, and it was only then that she turned her attention to the Doctor and offered him a sweet smile and a nod to signal that the deed had been done.
"Is that…"
"The Arts. Yes," Amiya answered without him having to speak.
"Do you all…"
"Most of us at Rhodes Island are Infected but we do what we can. You were helping us before…"
The Doctor did not press her to continue as she trailed off, they were both well aware of the events that had stopped his work, and it was becoming obvious that whatever he was contributing was both world altering as well as it was life changing. It was becoming clear why they risked everything to help him, despite his amnesia and skepticism; it seemed as if most, if not all, of their hopes for survival was tied directly to him. It was a burden that the Doctor was not sure he could bear but there was no choice, not now, not when the barrage returned and they were all set to cower behind their quickly diminishing cover. The Doctor hunkered down, his hands clasping his head to make himself as small as possible, but what may have presented as weakness outwardly was contrasted by the way that his mind raced with tactics and strategies.
"Amiya!"
Immediately the girl looked at him, ears perked and her eyes wide ready to accept the next command, and it was given with both of them hunched forward so that their plans were kept secret. Exhales mingled, two pairs of eyes frantic, but in this connected gaze was a sense of calm that would serve as the first instance of belief that he must have known her. How many times had he looked into her eyes before this moment? How many times had they huddled against the odds and devised a plan that saved them?
"I need you to do what you did before, but this time, aim at the ceiling. We're going to crush them and run deeper for cover. We're getting boxed in."
With a more pointed glance, the Doctor drew in the attention of the young medic who had assisted the wounded man before, his eyes beckoning her closer as his next command was given.
"When I say, you take the wounded deeper into the building. Our first priority is making sure everyone gets out of here alive. The rest of you," he shouted, a volume and tone that put several of the guards at attention to look at him. "Cover fire our retreat. We need to find a better position and this isn't it."
With a deep and steady inhale the Doctor waited and watched as the Reunion soldiers reloaded, providing the perfect and only opportunity that he could see to move.
"Now!"
At his command every member of Rhodes Island moved as they were told, a well oiled and exacting machine, which had proved to the Doctor that they had certainly done this before. Just as she had done previously, Amiya stood up and released a both of energy, still black and red, directly towards the banisters of the ceiling where the Reunion guards stood underneath. The crumbling was immediate and gave them no time to move resulting in several, if not all of the assailants, to be hopelessly buried underneath the pile of stone and wood that came crashing down upon them. At this, the young medic was next to move, her arm underneath the wounded guard and hoisting him to his feet with impressive power for someone who looked so young and gentle, and once they were both standing she hurried ushered them both down the hallway into a more open room. The remaining Rhodes Island guards were next, suppressing whoever was left with a barrage of arrows as they slowly started to retreat, but not before knowing that the Doctor and Amiya had run after the medic into a large and open room.
It would serve pitifully for cover but would allow them to regroup; there was no doubt that within moments the whole room, if not the whole building, would be surrounded. Still, this was his problem to mull over as the guards took a well needed reprieve from the all out battle that they had narrowly escaped from. They were all fatigued, whether physically or mentally, and the Doctor elected to stand off to the side of the room as he watched them all tend to one another; a family.
He couldn't help but wonder if this was his family too. There would be no other reason for them to risk their lives for him. If he was so important to them, the Doctor was frustrated to understand why not a single one of their faces resonated anything within him. It was clear he was a tactician, assuming the role had been the simplest of tasks that he had encountered since he was awoken and saved by Amiya, but was it his responsibility to save them?
Could they be saved? Did it matter?
Undoubtedly the enemy forces were closing in on them now, there was no way that they could escape the inevitability of it, and he had put them in a much worse position with the only way towards freedom; the way that they had barricaded to try and buy a few more precious moments of time. The Doctor mindlessly adjusted his coat and pulled his hood down farther to hide his face, giving him a moment of quiet contemplation as he scanned the ally forces to try and place their names and their faces, but none came. A part of him viewed this all as a chess match, with each of them nothing more than pieces on a board to be used and potentially lost should it serve the grander scheme of things. This was indicative of a ruthless tactician, one that was capable of removing emotions to weigh lives against victories, but something new panged in his heart as he considered the strategies that would undoubtedly see them escape but would not assure that all of them would be alive to share in the triumph.
Had he always been this way? Which version of himself, and his feelings, were genuine and which were new? The Doctor struggled between what little he knew and how none of it pertained to himself.
His thoughts were halted as richoets and collisions could be heard down the hall, followed by loud groans and approaching footsteps, and each set of eyes in the room quickly turned to him for direction. He would be made a liar if he said he didn't like the power, didn't like knowing that everything rested on his shoulders, and the Doctor was quick to claim his position as he gestured towards the young medic with a serious and stern tone.
"Get the wounded into hiding. Do not come out under any circumstance. Take a guard with you."
The medic was quick to move, either due to a genuine sense of urgency or the weight in his voice, and one able bodied man followed suit as they took cover in the far corner of the large and nearly vacant room, making due with a few cargo boxes to try and hide themselves.
"The rest of you are with me," he announced as he pushed himself off the wall that he was leaning on and walked towards the doorway. He didn't stop until he was pressed against the wall just next to the entrance, effectively hiding himself and the others from immediate view to whomever strode through that threshold, and it was with a slight tinge of impatience that he waited until they were all in position to speak.
"As soon as they walk through the door we need to have the upperhand," he announced, his expression grim and his words firm, but they were soon silenced and quick footsteps sounded through the hallway and a gravely silence fell over them all. The Doctor could feel his heart hammering in his chest as he waited, counting the steps and measuring the gait, and his brows furrowed as he noted that it did not sound like an assault was approaching. The footsteps were quick, much quicker than anyone would have if they were imagining that they were walking towards an ambush, but he didn't have time to process this as one person strode through the threshold and he immediately moved to act … he was the only one.
"Doberman!"
Amiya's voice, and it's brightness, immediately gave the Doctor pause as he watched his young companion run towards the strange woman with excitement and relief; clearly they were acquainted, another from Rhodes Island perhaps, but just like every other face before it he did not seem to recognize her. This new woman was taller than Amiya, presumably older, with long and straight black hair and a set of pointed black ears on top of her head. Her face was stern, lacking the youthful and hopeful allure that Amiya had, but behind those eyes was a strength that the Doctor admired as he remained silent and off to Amiya's side. Flanking Doberman were more Rhodes Island guards, fresh and ready for the fight, but it seemed that they had easily dispatched whatever was left of the enemy forces as they charged in to rescue them.
"I see you found what you were looking for," Doberman replied after a long while, her deeply brown eyes looking over at the Doctor with almost muted interest. She seemed guarded in that way, every expression was kept safely under guard, and if she were happy to him then she didn't show it.
"We were ambushed by Reunion as soon as we found him. I can't believe you got here in time …" Amiya countered as a sigh of relief left her chest. Anxiety and worry seemed to wash away from them all as they realized that they had been rescued, that this mission had been a success, and that everyone would be going home safely that evening.
"There's just … one little problem."
Doberman arched her brow at this and waited, her face unreadable as she looked over the Doctor with a near scrutinizing gaze; the only indication that she was taken aback by the news of his amnesia was a small and delicate furrowing that occurred in the space between her brows.
"Amnesia? How?"
Her question was met with silence as both Amiya and himself lacked the answers that she needed, that they all needed, to try and piece together his last few weeks and the events that had led up to his losing his memory … and any recollection of himself. The Doctor merely blinked at her before turning his eyes to Amiya, the only safe harbour in a brewing storm of queries and tensions, and he wondered if this was just because hers was the first face that he had seen when he had woken up or if this was indicative of something more between them. Were they friends before he had lost his memory or was she just another piece, albeit a valuable one, on a complicated and violent chess board.
"We can talk about it once we get back," Amiya offered, saving him from replying and taking a step forward to engage Doberman and grant him a reprieve from her almost scrutinizing gaze.
There was something about her that almost seemed unconvinced, and it was clear that she was feeling frustrated that she wasn't able to to get the answers, especially after all the effort she went through in order to get here and save them, but it seemed that Amiya's presence had the same effect on her as it did on him and she softened … as much as Doberman seemed capable. There was an air of authority to her that could not be ignored, with straight spine and keen observation behind her eyes, and it immediately impressed the Doctor who decided to walk away from the duo with hands tucked behind his back. Fingers toiled with fingers, a self-soothing and contemplative gesture as he marched towards the hallways and looked down towards the place where they had taken refuge only moments before. He blocked out the excited chatter behind him as words of hope and relief were being exchanged, evidently happy that the worst was behind them, but the Doctor did not share in their solace.
Reunion. Rhodes Island. Ursus. All of these names, these opposing forces, and no understanding of any of it. The amnesia, the infection, his role in all of it; there was so much information that had been given and so much yet to come but he, perhaps selfishly, focused in on the events that had led to him being here.
His quiet and private moment of contemplation was invaded by Doberman taking a step beside him, her hands tucked behind her back in the same way that he was and stared out into the hallway with him. They stood in silence like this for a moment but he was not the first to break.
"They're all gone. We should have a clean escape."
He hummed in reply and nodded his head, the hood of his jacket falling lower against his forehead and shielding his expression from her view as he continued to stare vacantly into the hallway. The Doctor was grateful for Doberman's assistance, and even found her more focused and silenced demeanor to be refreshing compared to the energetic and emotional approach that Amiya seemed to adopt, but it seemed as if the woman was waiting for him to say something to her and it was the stress of social nicety that prompted his response.
"Thank you." His voice was low and unfeeling. They were words rather than a sentiment and the Doctor wondered if Doberman cared or if that was what she was waiting for, some arbitrary vote of thanks for her deeds.
"But you're wrong.." he continued with his chest puffing up slightly. A slight smirk was visible on his face as he noted the way that Doberman seemed to bristle at his words and, more amusing than this, that the Doctor realized that the best of the fight was still ahead of him. Was this the sign of a sadist? Was this indicative of a man who found some joy in this strife? It didn't matter. The questions that he kept volleying in his mind were never going to be answered, not while his mind continued to be shrouded in the loneliness of blackness, but there was only one thing that the Doctor was certain of.
"They're not gone. Not at all."
