After seeing the connection one daughter has to a violent monster, it made sense to me that Ra's would be intent that his second one doesn't go down the same road. Uh, I should also point out (for the people who mailed) how to pronounce or read Algol - it's just simply 'AHL-GOAL' the 'AH' is basically pronounced like an lower-case 'a'.
Anyway, with that outta' the way; enjoy! & drop me a review if you want?
;)
"I remember darkness, a shallow poison it has grown..."
iii.
Blood, red. Obviously. Running precariously, almost rudely from my nose, dripping down my chin and onto the chest of my robe. I fall back, smacking my rump off of the polished floor, I can see Father; he's shaking his head, rubbing his forehead and then his temples which are already silver with anxiety. I won't add another grey thread to those sides, so with a determined breath I get back up and he looks at me. I wipe my nose and eye my opponent; they're much bigger than me, but when's that stopped me?
Never.
So, brutishly, I fling myself at them. Lashing, thrashing, like a trapped bat in a small place. It is frenzied, my father intervenes when the Initiate falls clutching his wrist, and my savage little attacks have left him with four broken fingers. I look up, a smile on my face; expecting to see a smile on my father's face too. There is none.
His face is hard and he is glowering quite angrily down at me. His eyes flicking from me to my wincing opponent. He helps the injured Initiate to his feet and claps his shoulder while I stand back, my head bowed and my hands behind my back. I didn't mean to beat him wrongly.
"Leave us." He commands of the others. They all file out and he kneels before me, gripping my small hands.
Blood is still trickling down my face, gently, he wipes the liquid away and gazes at it a moment. It is not his. We don't share blood, he and I, but I have never loved another being so much in all my life, save for Talia. I back away shyly, afraid that he is angry with me for the way I fought.
"Algo," He begins, his brow furrowed, "Who taught you that?"
I frown straight away; this is not what I was expecting. I shake my head, "Taught me what, Father?"
"To break fingers. Like you just did there to that Initiate. Where did you learn that technique?"
"Talia of course..." I say with a shrug and a rude little curl of my nose. He ignores it and seems to be biting down on frustration. I jerk my head and ask him shortly, "What's the matter? I beat him?"
"No." He says firmly. "No, you must always best your opponent. Not simply over-power them, Algol."
I nod. I don't see the difference but I agree for fear of making him cross.
"Defeating an adversary with brute strength, power, it's barbaric." He leans in close and says to me passionately,
"It's about the mind, sweetheart. The body and the mind must work as one. You cannot hope to survive this training if you do not find a balance. You are detached, which is good. But do not become animalistic...foolish."
He leans back and regards me thoughtfully a moment; I see his eyes travel from my untidy mane of hair down to my blood-stained chin then back to my eyes which are searching his own countenance. "Only animals throw themselves into the fray with no thought as a show of their power." He goes on, and I duck my head in agreement,
"Animals or the very stupid. And in battle, wee one; they are the first to die." He says seriously and I look at him.
"D'you understand?" He asks me earnestly and I nod again. "Yes." I say, "I understand, Father. I'll think next time before I throw myself at an opponent thoughtlessly."
I know this is the correct response because he smiles very brightly and catches me up in his arms. His praise enough of a reward for me. I laugh and throw my arms around his neck; his tenderness to me fills me up and makes me feel so happy inside. Finally, he puts me back down and says to me all business,
"Good. Now, again. And remember; think."
It is another cold day in Nepal and so very quiet with Talia gone. Father thought it best if she were to be sent off someplace far away from him, from us. I wish he hadn't sent her away; I miss her – more to my own surprise than to anyone else's. China is where she is now, Father sent her with only a small household; and oh, how cold she was as she was ushered into the small plane. She eyed our father as if he were the devil himself come for the bride and turned her back on him, climbing into the aircraft of her own volition and slammed the door closed. My father looked on, drawing up his height, he stood proud, but I thought I could see the quiver in his throat as he watched her go. It must have hurt something deep inside to watch her jet off. It hurt something deep inside for me; now, I find myself at liberty and completely lonely...Just like I had been in the Pit.
I sigh, maybe I should run around? No...Father would probably resent me becoming like Talia in her absence. I raise my eyes and peer out over to the mountains, hugging my robe around myself to bar the cold. I wonder what it would be like to fly up high like a falcon and nestle in the cold ridges, alone, majestic. I think it would be lonesome, frozen and bitter. Animals I learned in that second did not just exact upon themselves stupidity as my father has said, but exile and solitude too. Although, I doubt they actually felt the loneliness. They do not feel it as I feel it now without my energetic sister running around me while I trail along in the middle of her rings she dances, head down, trying to ignore merriment.
Devils don't do merry.
The words of the doctor still stick in my mind, even after a whole of two years; I still hear them when I close my eyes to the brightness of the place I am now in my relatively short life. I hear him;
"You are a devil. And devils must be locked away..."
Maybe they should, but I read somewhere in a book that there are people who worship not just gods but devils too. I open my eyes; what a strange thing to worship, something that scorns you in return. Maybe they think the more they love the demon, it'll eventually crumble and love them back. No. I know from experience that the one thing demons are not is flexible. They are unchanging, with changeable hearts; who can fling away a person as soon as pick them up. My father...my real father must have been a most disgusting devil.
My mind soon wanders again as a chilly wind blows me inside once more. I shake out my dark hair which is peppered with snowflakes and slip quietly through the silent house. It is lofty here, with only a few of my father's 'Initiates' as he calls them. Talia's friend and protector is here, along with his brothers in training. They answer to none but my father and his Order. What that Order is, he has yet to tell me – that is why I am training. I want to become an Initiate just like Talia and join my father's noble Order.
My brain is so bogged down in thought I don't realise that I've wandered into one of the high ceilinged halls; about twenty or so Initiates all litter the floor; this is most of them actually. My father is presiding over this meditational exercise at the front of the hall I see. He spots me and beckons silently with a jerk of his head. I nod and walk silently like a baby panther through the rows; none of them looks to see who it was who brushed their arms, their knees and shoulders; to do so would be to break the peace they have created around themselves which I am disrupting, but only barely. I alone should not be able to disrupt their peacefulness, although I see there is one who peers round. My father sees it too and shoots a sharp glare in his direction; it is Talia's protector. The moment he sees my father's blazing blue glare he bows his head back down, not very quickly like a whipped dog, but more so like an elephant that has looked up at the sky and would now simply look back down. Almost languorously.
When I am at Father's side, he places a warm hand on my thin shoulder and I look up, he smiles down gently and nods out over the rows of black-clad Initiates. As I glance over them all my eyes find Talia's giant. He sticks out – very much so. Not only so because of his mammoth size; but because of the mask my father had made to help him in his sickness. Talia's protector was very sick in the Pit, but after being rescued by my father along with me; he seems to have improved greatly, although I have never once heard his voice. I think the only ones who have are my father and my sister. It is so quiet in the hall; I feel my father's hand leave my shoulder as he idly strolls along the front lines of the rows with his hands behind his back.
As nobody is paying any attention to me, I sink down to my knees and begin to meditate myself; I feel Father's eyes on me, but I shan't open my own; he is always adamant that once you begin meditation you should see it through to the end of the allotted time or until you feel that you yourself have had enough time. Since I have accomplished neither, I won't open them.
It is a strange thing, but I swear I felt the glow of his pride as he watched me that day.