CHAPTER FIFTEEN:
Becky was paralyzed. "You're his father, then?" she blurted out.
"I think that's obvious. Modessa, how are you?" The man turned his head to look at the woman.
She pushed past him. She didn't spare him a glance, as if he did not exist. She played with the handles of the door for a while, then furiously spoke with Balthazar. Becky fished out the words "plasma bolt" and "break". There were some sizzling noises and then a large bang. The doors were now open, but the handle on one was cracked. The other fell to the floor.
Modessa and Balthazar let everyone pass into the temple. Becky didn't move. It was impossible. How could they enter, and just ignore this stranger? He was Dave's father. Why didn't they try to do something about it? Why was he just standing here?
"Balthazar, Dave's father…"
"We have to worry about David right now, Becky," Veronica interjected. "Like this man said, he might be in a lot of trouble."
"Why aren't you attacking?" Becky asked, perplexed. There was no smirk on the man's face, as expected. It wouldn't have mattered if he did, anyways. She had no strength to hit him. Adrenaline ran through her veins, but only to find Dave, to help him. It was odd. She had wanted to hate this man. She almost did. But here he was, standing silently and coldly. Only his eyes were warm.
"You must be his girlfriend," he mused. He stared at Becky. "Interesting."
"Why aren't you trying to stop us?" she threw at him. Rue pulled on her arm. She was trying to get Becky away from him, but she refused to move.
"I came for him," he replied.
Weird she hadn't thought of him as Dave's father. She kept thinking him a stranger.
He glided through the doors with a graceful, smooth movement. Becky now began to walk. Rue kept a safe distance so no one would get near her.
They were on the first floor. Becky ignored how beautiful and bright everything looked. Her eyes only absorbed the detail of the empty holder sticking out of the wall. It was very brown, like it had been halfway burnt. Balthazar was shaking his head, obviously upset.
"It's gone," Modesty said. Her voice was bleak. "I don't know if Dave has taken it, or maybe it was Cyril."
Damien strolled across the room and lifted his arm above his head. Becky realized now that he was much taller than normal. His pale fingers brushed against the holder's edge. "It was Cyril," he said. "He came here and planned to take it. We've talked little about the clock, but I know what he came here first."
"Could we please use a portal or something? To get to wherever Dave is?" Becky asked Balthazar and Veronica desperately.
Balthazar nodded jerkily. "We'll do that. Step back—"
A noise like air being sucked occurred. Becky jumped. She stared at the middle of the room, where a swirling portal was. Becky could see strange shapes and colors. There were even some different shades of color she had never seen before. Her head grew dizzy just by looking at it.
Damien gestured to the portal. "Are you coming or would you like to stay?" He turned and entered it. With a flick of fingers, the outline of the portal shook and folded in on itself. Without thinking, she threw herself at the closing portal.
She was falling, falling, falling. For a moment, Becky almost believed he had led her into entering a trap. But she did trust him, maybe a little; his eyes were the reason, really. Soft and brown like liquid puddles of chocolate. Or maybe they were tricks themselves?
Becky dropped to the floor. It was concrete and hard underneath her knees. She heard blasts and harsh noises that hurt her ears to the point that they might bleed. Becky covered them as she got up. Her eyes surveyed the battle playing out before her. She could see the two fighters easily, although they're attacks were too fast for her human eyes.
Her heart clenched when she caught sight of Dave. It beat so loud, she thought it would leap right out of her flesh. And then she caught sight of his uncle. Only three emotions played out on his pale, tight face: anger, annoyance, and frustration. Becky put one foot ahead of herself, but felt the familiar hand on her shoulder.
"No," he said. "What makes you think he won't hit you with something?"
"Couldn't you stop him?" Becky pleaded. It was only to see if he truly would do something to stop his brother—if Dave were in danger. But she would not rely on him. She tried to tear away from his hard grip. Her panic only increased when she saw Cyril's hand wrap around Dave's arm, pulling him in. His other hand glowed with light red.
"Cyril!" Damien called.
Cyril's head lifted slightly. Dave craned his neck to catch the direction of the voice. Becky could see that Dave was surprised; it was written all over his face. He made funny looks when he was stunned. This was another one of those funny looks.
"I thought we agreed you wouldn't come," Cyril said, frowning. He didn't look as furious as he did just moments ago. Just displeased. Dave attempted to free himself, but to no avail.
"We never did. I told you I would consider staying," Damien answered simply. Becky felt a stab of irritation. His tone was so casual, as if he were telling Cyril he was going to the library. His son had been locked in combat before and was now being restrained by his uncle. Even if Damien didn't approve of many things in Dave's life, he should've had a least a shred of fatherly worry.
He was now in front of Cyril. Becky noted that while they were the same height, and had the same looks (despite their eye colors), the two men were complete opposites. She couldn't pinpoint the difference exactly, but knew there had to be one. When Cyril had been in Dave's apartment, she had felt like an alien among a haughty man. Damien's presence had such a strange effect on her; it wasn't good, yet it wasn't bad.
And their eyes. Damien's eyes were just as warm as Dave's. That had to be saying something.
Damien slowly put his hand on Cyril's and pushed it off Dave's arm. Cyril's eyebrows turned downward and he began to form unintelligible words with his lips.
"What are you doing?" he demanded from his brother. "The clock—"
"Give it to me," Damien ordered. "Now."
"Hold on," Cyril interrupted. "I may have let you out, but that doesn't mean I'm your follower. You aren't my boss."
"I'm five seconds older; I think I have some sort of control," Damien said. Becky didn't know if he was teasing or not. His tone was still leveled. "Remove yourself from here, Cyril."
He sneered. "Where to, your Highness?"
"Anywhere. As long as it isn't here," Damien replied. He gently tugged at Dave's hand, but his soon recoiled. He glared and took a firm step back.
"Dave," Becky said, relived. She skipped over to him while Damien and Cyril confronted one another. She wrapped her arms around him, taking in the scent of sweat and his natural perfume. He didn't react, but after a few minutes, he slowly hugged her back. He whispered something to her. She didn't hear what he said. To be honest, Becky didn't care. She was just happy being here, holding him, inhaling the sweet smells she hadn't been able to enjoy in the past few days.
"Did I scare you?" Dave asked. His voice was blank.
Becky squeezed him harder. He's watching his dad, she thought. That's why he isn't acting like he did at the university.
"I didn't feel scared. I was numb. It was hard to think about you…when I saw your father," she told him truthfully.
"I shouldn't have come. Something horrible happened. Something—" He broke off abruptly. Dave released himself from her and slowly withdrew. He finally stopped. Becky took in his entire expression. Shock and sudden realization had set in. What was wrong with him? Did it have to do with the fight he had with his uncle?
"Dave, tell me what's wrong," Becky said, her voice rising. In the background, she could hear Cyril and Damien speaking in higher tones. She had a feeling another battle would break out, but she couldn't find any energy to focus on that. All she could think about was Dave.
"It's my fault," he said sadly. The pure notes of misery were obvious.
"We can sort everything out later, okay? Balthazar and the others, I believe they're coming right…" Her body went cold. They should have arrived a long time ago.
She whipped around. "What did you do?" she shouted. The two men turned, a little surprised at the outrage in her voice. "What did you do to them?" she repeated. The question was aimed at both of them, as she didn't know who had done it.
"What are you going on about, girl?" Cyril asked. He sounded more puzzled than ticked off.
"Balthazar and the rest! Why didn't they come?" she yelled. "Damien! Tell me!"
This was the first time she had called him that. His face made an expression she did not understand.
"They shouldn't interrupt family matters," Damien said coolly.
"I knew it. I knew you had something to do with it. So, you were kind enough to let me come up here, but not to tell me about this?" Becky shot back sarcastically.
"I didn't believe you would come through the portal. When you did, I knew you wouldn't go back. I thought it would be better if you saw your boyfriend, and I could deal with my brother."
She exhaled sharply and turned to Dave. She tried to comfort him, although she had no clue why he was so bothered.
"Levy," Dave murmured. "She's hurt." He took her by the hand and led her to the back of the roof. She gasped at the unconscious blonde.
"She's not bleeding," Becky said. "But she's breathing." She bent down and checked her pulse. It was a tad unsteady, but not dangerous.
Becky looked up at Dave. He was so distant to her now. Becky frowned. What happened here?
She blinked for a second, and then he was gone. Becky's heartbeat tripled and she scrambled to her feet. She saw Damien was speaking with Dave quickly, his lips moving urgently. Cyril was saying something as well. She couldn't hear. Becky gave Levy a sorry look, then hurried over to the group.
But then the eruption came. Dave pried the clock from his uncle's arm, screaming at him. Cyril struggled to keep his precious heirloom, but failed to hold on. The clock slipped out of his grip and was now in Dave's arms. He stopped shouting by this point, and was making his way to the other side of the roof. Cyril wasn't an idiot. As soon as he had been stolen of his heirloom, he ran after Dave. Becky started to yell frantically now, at Dave's father and at Dave himself. The scene blurred before her eyes. She didn't see Damien's reaction or the plasma bolts on Cyril's hands fly, but she did in fact see Dave throw the clock to the ground and step on it repeatedly. He stamped on it furiously, his foot crashing into the delicate, fragile glass plate that protected the black hands and numbers inside. She could see thin veins stand out on his temple as he bent down awkwardly, then smashed the clock with bare hands. Red fluid began to leak out. She was bewildered beyond belief.
Sparks of red, blue, and green blazed. Dave, Cyril, and Damien were lost in the fiery chaos. A ring of fire formed around the wild tendrils of multicolored flames. Becky threw herself at the dangerous display, trying hurriedly to work her way to the conflagrations. But as soon as she could get close enough to see the clothing of either Dave or Damien, the energy leaped out and licked her bare skin. She would scream in pain, then back away, holding her damaged area. And then Becky would want to get in there again. The smoke entered her lungs, slowly consuming her health.
She almost didn't notice the roof door open. Veronica and Modesty got hold of her, shouting, telling her to get away. She didn't listen. She had to pull Dave out of the inferno.
"Dave!" she screamed.
Becky felt herself being lifted up. Her lids were heavy and she couldn't find a way to breathe.
She struggled to keep herself awake. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Rue and Modessa picking Levy up. Balthazar was nowhere in sight.
Her eyes fell like opera curtains.
It was a tad difficult writing this. I'm a little sad yet the end is coming, but all things must come to an end eventually. Or something like that.
It was some time ago that I had an odd vision. I really think I want to publish another Sorcerer's Apprentice fic after I'm finished with the two I'm already writing. It's a strange urge consuming me, but it's another factor that motivates me to update sooner so I can complete this fic.
This is the second-to-last chapter. I really hope everyone who faved this story/anyone who ever reviewed this story will write a review for the last chapter. It would mean a lot to me.
-TracedScars