Rebirth

Chapter 16: Gifts for Avalon

Avalon remained unconscious with a strange affliction for a full seven days. When they had finally placed him in the bed the first day, he began to shiver uncontrollably which Maya confirmed were shivers not seizures. His entire body was strangely cold and it was a task merely to keep his body temperature at acceptable levels. On the second day, things became a little easier—he was able to maintain his own body heat and he ceased his shivers, but it was the first and only calm period of the seven days he was utterly unconscious.

The third day, he began to have nightmares—or at least dreams that were full of terror for they would last for the entire day not just at night time. Maya was quite certain he was having nightmares as she had made sure that physically he was not in pain. It was evident, though that he was still in some discomfort as his eyebrows would be furrowed and he would let out a moan or two.

The fourth and fifth day he was under the constant thumb of a rather high fever along with the reoccurring dreams. His skin glistened with sticky sweat and the bed became wet with perspiration. Maya was there in his room more often with her basin of rubbing alcohol and a rag. She'd gently wipe the cold liquid around his face and neck each time he began to sweat. She also tried to get him to drink something for she knew he was quite dehydrated. At first she thought such an activity was impossible, but when she sat him up and tilted some cold water into his mouth, he actually swallowed. Too much water and it would simply spill from his mouth so Maya carefully let the water trickle into his mouth.

The sixth day, his heart began to flutter as if it was about to give out altogether and his breathing became irregular. Maya deducted that this was due to an extended period of high stress levels which could put a major strain on the heart. Whatever was the case, there was little she could do and she forbade him any visitors as he had a surprising amount of them considering that he was still quite a strange to Yuno.

He began to stabilize on the seventh day. His breathing became calmer, his dreams a lot less bothersome, and his fever finally breaking. Maya knew that he was on the verge of waking and kept a watchful eye on him. On this day she allowed visitors just as she had on the fourth and fifth day, but only early on in the day.

Mrs. Henry knocked on their door each day and Maya would allow her to see him even on days that she thought visitors shouldn't come. She sensed that Avalon wouldn't mind such a thing at all. Peter, Max, and Susie also visited a few times, but so did many other kids who simply wanted to see who he was for Peter would talk nonstop about Avalon and his peculiar appearance. Then one day, Simba and Fey knocked on Maya's door along with their son Mike (who had made an immediate recovery a long time ago).

"Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins, what a pleasant surprise. Hello, Mike, are you feeling better?"

Mike nodded politely with a shy smile.

"Hello, Mrs. Rosa, we came to pay Avalon a visit," Simba said forth rightfully.

"Um…he's not receiving visitors at this moment," Maya said, though in fact she was allowing visitors.

"It's alright, Maya," Fey assured Maya, "We know he saved our son's life. We want to apologize—we jumped to conclusions."

"Fey's right. After a day of rest, Mike was as good as new—his bones were miraculously repaired—something that I understand is impossible for you to do. We owe Avalon our son's life. Will he be staying with you long, Mrs. Rosa? He has proven to be an invaluable asset to your work."

"Yes he has," Maya agreed, "Repairing bones even after a clean cut takes a special kind of talent—he's very invaluable. You may see him if you want."

And so went the Jenkins' visit and they came back two more times.

Everyone left gifts for Avalon from chocolates to elaborate flowers until it seemed as if Avalon had died already. Mrs. Henry in complete contrary to everyone else left Avalon a poem that she had constructed on her own and placed into a red envelope that sat conspicuously on the desk near the bed—it was sure to contain something quite interesting.

There were many things that needed to be discussed during Avalon's ordeal between Maya, Kazan, and Lang. For instance, the reason Lang had traveled all the way to Yuno. Lang disclosed to the group that he needed their help to track down a member of his Vigilance Corps—Dein—who had been inexplicably influenced by Igohl; Avalon's former second spirit. This fact didn't come to as much as a surprise to them as Lang had predicted, but then he was informed about Igohl separating permanently from Avalon which explained why Igohl would even need another host in the first place, but it also explained something else. Igohl was still alive because Avalon was—simply separating himself from his host was not enough to destroy him.

And then they began to discuss just how they were going to track both Dein and Igohl down which was beginning to seem a bit impossible mainly because there was no definite way of doing so. They could pass aimlessly through towns and try to gather information about their whereabouts—Dein was sure to be unstable by now and quite noticeable. Lang knew that if they came too late, Dein might die from the strain of harboring another spirit especially one as substantial as Igohl.

Then Kazan suggested an alternate plan. What about Avalon? Igohl was still an origin despite the separation; perhaps he could still sense Igohl's location well enough to point them in the general direction. Lang didn't especially like this idea because it would mean that Avalon would have to come with them, but Maya did and so did Kazan. So they waited for Avalon's full recovery.

There was hardly any mention of the "black ghosts" that had attacked Avalon. No one had known what to make of it. For now, the dark specters were gone and it was doubtful that they were ever going to make another appearance. But everyone kept the knowledge of their existence in the back of their minds. They feared thinking that something or someone was actually after him. When Maya had questioned further the two—Susie and Max—on what they saw, they described them as "death walking". Maya wondered if Avalon had really died—Lang began to wonder the same thing as he learned the full story of what had taken place.

"You think he died, don't you," Maya accused Lang one day as they sat with Kazan around the glowing fire.

Lang had grown quite silent and thoughtful after she had told the story in full. Maya noticed another red glint flash across Lang's pupils. Kazan looked over at Lang also when he didn't respond soon enough.

"Sure, I think he died—same as I did."

"You were dead?" Maya asked incredulously.

Lang took another long moment to answer. "Yes, I'm sure of it; one doesn't survive encounters with Igohl if their own origin is too weak to fight. Igohl wanted me dead just like he had wanted eleven years ago, but back then Avalon had stopped him. Now there was nothing or no one stopping him."

"But you're alive now," Kazan said.

"Someone brought me back to life, someone who claims to be my mother."

"Maybe she is," Maya ventured.

Lang shook his head, "I might believe that she's some kind of god, but she isn't my mother."

"You sound so sure of yourself," came a rather weak voice.

All three of them at once turned to the new voice that came from the bedroom doorway. And there was Avalon leaning heavily against the doorway with glittering eyes locked on Lang.

"Avalon, you're awake. It's been seven days, you know," Maya said to him.

"An entire week?" Avalon said a little surprised, "I thought it had been much longer than that."

"You heard that same voice, didn't you, Avalon?" Lang asked interrupting a potential conversation between Avalon and Maya.

"Both times," he answered.

"Both times?" Lang questioned him further.

"Yes, once when you and your friends destroyed me—and again soon after those two specters took me."

"So that's how you survived when we killed you the first time. I guess you were right all those years before—you are invincible."

"Hardly. I can die just as easily as you. In fact, I did so twice."

"But I don't understand something. Maya only found you recently and she tells me that you were very near death."

"That's exactly how that woman—the voice, whoever she is, brought me back."

"It's been eleven years, why did she wait so long?"

"Because that's what she wanted to do."

"That sounds a bit arbitrary, Avalon. What else?"

"There's nothing else that's worth being told."

"An entire eleven years—"

"That I would rather forget. All you need to know is that at some point I was brought back to life under similar circumstances as you."

Lang knew that the other was hiding something, but that didn't surprise him—they were nowhere near being friends.

"You should sit," Maya told Avalon who noticed him falter a little.

"Yes, I should."

Avalon avoided Lang altogether and sat next to Maya. Lang watched the other steadily. Never in a million years did Lang ever believe they'd be sitting in Maya's house with their worst enemy, Avalon. Before, he had exuded such a forbidding aura with his majestic stature, his robust and commanding voice, and his speeches of grandeur and world domination that he seemed to be the perfect villain. Those who had served under him had been completely devoted to his cause and they had all eventually died for him. He had been larger than life, untouchable, and every sense of the word wicked.

Now as he sat with them, his expression seemed perpetually despondent. No forbidding aura, no majesty, simply a broken man who was a mere shadow of his former self. Lang still distrusted him. His eyes still gleamed with hidden devious thoughts and a pleasure of how uncomfortable he was making Lang.

"I've never seen so many flowers all in one place," Avalon said as his eyes stared at flames.

"They're all for you," Maya said with a smile.

"Yeah, seems as if you've been able to fool a good amount of people into thinking you're actually a 'nice guy'," Lang said.

Maya looked over at Lang with an irritated expression.

"Yes, it's all part of my eventual plan to take over the world—one villager at a time," Avalon answered back sardonically.

"I wouldn't put it past you."

"I'd rather you did."

"I'd rather I didn't."

"It makes almost no difference to me. But I do see that you've become much more powerful over the years—perhaps we should be keeping an eye out on you."

"Don't start comparing me to you—we're nothing alike."

"Right. I notice a certain crimson glint in your eyes. Careful, your powers are still developing, quite rapidly I might add."

"What do you mean?" Lang asked a little mystified.

"Just…be careful. You may feel as if you're in complete control, but in reality you'll find that you're not."

"You're just trying to scare me," Lang said finally, "I am in complete control of everything and I've trained long and hard to achieve that."

"I'm sure you have."

"What—did something happen to you?" Lang asked.

"Yes, something did. I became so completely consumed by the power that I possessed—I began to do things that before I would never have seen myself doing. You won't know how it feels like to be invincible until you actually do and no one is ever mentally prepared for that moment. And quite easily you could be led astray because you realize that no one could stop you. Power leads to corruption, it almost always does and soon you'll know what an abundance of it will feel like."

"Like I said, Avalon, I'm nothing like you. Even if this supposed 'increase' in power occurs nothing will change."

"Only time will tell."

"Why do you continue on like this?"

"Because there are some things we have in common."

"Like what?" Lang demanded.

"Like having the same mother."

"If you're talking about that voice—

"I am."

"And you believe it?"

"Her. 'It' is a her. You only spent a few seconds with her—with me an entire eleven years and I am convinced that she is our 'mother'."

"Or maybe you've been killed off one too many times."

"Perhaps I have, but I'm quite certain of her."

"Alright, Avalon, let's say that she is who she says she is—who's the father?"

"This is no father—you speak as if we're human and we're not. Our mother presides over this entire world on behalf of God. She reports to Him constantly. She is a spirit—a spirit of creation. She created us with her own will and placed us on Earth to live."

"But why did she decide to do such a thing."

"It is something she does every millennia. She tried to explain the reason to me, but I didn't fully understand only that she does it to maintain balance in the world—one of her main duties she has to fulfill."

"And you…believe all of this?"

"I do. Why do you not?"

"Because, it's ridiculous."

"Do you believe in things not seen, Lang?"

Lang was caught off guard by this question, "No," he said steadily, "Of course not."

"So I thought. Then continue on not believing. If you don't believe she's your mother, then it is as if we're not brothers at all and that your mother doesn't exist. Though, it is an odd way to repay someone who saved you from being completely dead."

Lang looked down, "I'm sorry, but I can't believe you. I don't have a mother or father and that's how it's always been. I don't need to believe in something so farfetched; maybe you do. It must be hard having your origin ripped from you."

"You have no idea." Then they locked gazes. "But do not presume that I'm in such a pitiful state that I can no longer think logically. In fact, I have never been as certain of things as I am now."

Lang looked away from Avalon's suddenly penetrating gaze.

"Well, I'm glad that you're feeling better," Maya finally cut in between their conversation, "And that you decided to travel down the right path this time."

"I'm glad too," Avalon said to her.

"Lang needs help finding someone named Dein who is currently Igohl's host," Kazan began, "What we need to know now is if you'll be able to help us find him."

"I would be honored to help Lang," Avalon said looking at Lang. "I may not be able to feel Igohl as well as I have once been able to, but to some extent I still can. Some days I can sense him as clear as day and some days nothing at all. We must move quickly if I am to be of any use. Daily his connection grows with this Dein and when it is complete I'll no longer matter."

"What do you mean no longer matter?" Kazan asked.

"Quite possibly I'll perish soon after unless I do something similar to Igohl and arbitrarily find another spirit with which to connect. You know as well as I that we cannot survive long without a second spirit."

"As far as I know, I don't see any spare spirits around who want to be dominated by a living person," Maya said.

"I'm not really looking for one," Avalon said, "If it isn't Igohl, then it is no one. I'll ask mother to simply let me die, but even then she might not honor my request."

"Giving up so soon," Lang asked, "Igohl had no problem hanging you out to dry, but you're still mourning over him."

"Ah, eye for an eye, right Lang. But for some reason I have no desire to repay him."

And Lang had no more to say to him. Avalon seemed quite dispirited much to his sudden dislike. At least before when he was bent on controlling the world, he had been confident about himself. Now he seemed so weak.

The day was still young, but slowly growing older so Maya decided that she still had time to see to a few villagers. She also warned Avalon not to go outside today seeing as he was still weak and quite susceptible to the cold air. Lang decided to leave as well to see Rafael—an old friend of his, but Kazan, he decided to stay put strangely neglecting to go to Suza's house. But he had something he wanted to discuss with Avalon. He waited precisely until Lang and Maya were gone until he spoke.

"I need to know, Avalon, do you know how to defend yourself?"

"Without my origin I am defenseless."

"Just as I thought. If you travel with us you'll be a complete liability."

"I suppose so. Ironic that the only power I was able to retain was that of healing—when the majority of my power was meant to cause great harm."

"Have you never handled a sword or some weapon before?"

"Never. There was no one to teach me."

"What if I taught you?"

"I'd say you were wasting your time. I'm too old to be learning any new tricks."

"So you like depending on other people for protection."

"No."

"Then why not change that?"

Avalon looked away, "I have no desire to relearn how to harm others."

Kazan stood up then, "It's nice that you've turned a new leaf." Then he walked into his room and took out the same paper thin sword that Avalon had almost used on himself a while back. "But you live in the real world. No one, not even Maya, could get by without learning some means of defense. Here."

Avalon caught the sword just in time before it struck him on the head. "I can't use this." He said looking over the simple design of the sheath and handle.

"You will."

Avalon let out a sigh, "I'm no warrior, really."

Yet before, Igohl had trained Avalon extensively to build up his muscles. Igohl too had known that Avalon wasn't really a fighter, but he still had to look the part. Even more than that, he had to be made efficient in the use of raw power which he had a lot of as time went by. Much to Igohl's delight, Avalon was well-suited in the art of manipulating power, such a talent took constant concentration and a robust mental stability—Avalon possessed both. Everything about Avalon was steady and thoughtful—a telltale sign of a healer, but Igohl used this to his advantage.

When Kazan had first met Avalon, he was completely terrified of his presence. He was too calm, too focused to be someone who had undertaken the task of destroying the world. And his eyes, they were far too calculative and demented—who could destroy such a man?

Slowly Avalon stood up from his sitting position holding the sword and sheath quite awkwardly. Avalon was taller than Kazan by four inches—a fact that hadn't really bothered Kazan until now. Avalon had to at least be 6'1. The sword that Avalon carried seemed like a play thing on someone so tall and muscular.

"It isn't too heavy for you is it?" Kazan asked.

"Not at all," Avalon said.

Kazan couldn't teach him much today as Avalon was still recovering from his strange malady, but at least he was able to show Avalon a few simple strokes. Avalon had a surprisingly hard time on doing just that. His stance was awkward and he often held the blade in an unwieldy manner. His coordination was poor and his agility pitiful, but Kazan still wanted to work with him.

Hours seemed to fly for Avalon when he had something to do. He suspected that he was making little progress as he found that he was still trying to perfect the first stroke Kazan had taught him. Kazan made it seemed deceptively easy (or maybe it was easy), but when Avalon tried to imitate the same movement he made it seem painfully difficult. Kazan found it all to be quite amusing. To think at one time it took four of them to take him down.

Avalon called it quits as soon as the sun began to set claiming that he was too tired to do anything else.

"What was that saying about 'old dogs'," Kazan asked as Avalon was having difficulties sheathing his blade.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Avalon said unwilling to say it specifically.

"Whoever made that one up must have had you in mind."

"Assuming that I am old."

"Well, you are, right?"

"What do you think?"

"About how old you are? I'd say…late forties."

"I'd say you were right—forty-seven. Don't tell anyone though."

"Right. So you can continue lying about your age to everyone? Such an old trick."

"I told Maya twenty-seven and she thoroughly believed me."

"She believed you? Well, I guess she's kind of gullible."

"Maybe it's true."

Kazan gave him an unconvinced look, "You must have told Mrs. Henry something different. She came to see you every day without fail and you guys only just me."

"Every day?" Avalon asked incredulously.

"Hopefully, you're not leading her on. Widows tend to latch on to men who remind them of their husbands. Careful—she can be a bit…obsessive."

"She's nice," Avalon said with a shrug.

"For now. Has she offered you her too sweet hot chocolate yet?"

"Yes, why?"

"She uses it as a test, of course she never offers it on the first meeting—she must have made an exception with you. I don't think anyone ever liked that drink of hers besides her husband whose sweet tooth was borderline insane."

"I didn't think her drink was that bad…"

"Wait a minute, you liked it, didn't you?"

"Is that a bad thing?"

Kazan shrugged, "Maybe not. To each his own."

Avalon looked at the other sideways and then looked back down at the sword he had been given.

"She seemed pretty lonely. I think some company would do her some good."