Authors Note: Hey everyone, sorry for the extended delay. I am continuing to put as much time into this as I am able, but again it may be another month before I can get things rolling. I do have outlines for the next couple of chapters but that is about all I have. I have had some request that I need to advance the story a little more in each chapter, so just bear with me with because the next two entries will do just that. I'm trying something different here, I have a series of flashbacks as well as story telling within this chapter, hopefully I did it right and it is not utterly confusing.
Home Sweet Home
The steady and progressive rhythm of their march kept Raki's determination to press forward all the stronger. But as they continued their journey well into the next day his limitations had caught up to him. Dehydration was setting in and he noticed that the simple task of walking in a straight line was becoming a daunting feat. Ermita listened to the rhythm of their march as well and without looking noticed Raki's steps were becoming erratic.
"We shall stop here." Ermita stated softly neither commanding nor asking.
"No, we need to keep going." Raki protested with what little strength he had left.
"You would sooner collapse than make it another mile in your condition." Ermita argued back as he took a seat against one of the many trees that lined the highway.
Raki gave in to what his body was telling him, he needed to stop now before he killed himself. With a couple of sluggish and exhausted motions Raki crashed to the ground slumping against a tree just opposite of Ermita. Raftela decided not to sit as she stood leaning against a nearby tree as well. She did lower her guard though as Raki watched her plant the head of her claymore deep into the earth. Raki figured either she trusted him a little more or that she considered him no threat in his current state, he didn't care one way or the other.
"Raki, tell me about yourself, where are you from?" Ermita asked seemingly from nowhere.
Raki hesitated for a moment, his gaze went left and right slowly as if someone was listening in, unsure to reveal his secrets. "There's not much to me," Raki stated plainly, his voice nearly gone from exhaustion.
Ermita reached into his cloak and fashioned a wine skin. Raki lifted a curious eyebrow as Ermita tossed the vessel in the air giving Raki plenty of time to catch it.
"No, it's just water. I myself don't consume." Ermita assured Raki. Still unsure he carefully uncapped the skin and was quickly relieved to notice the absence of alcohol. As he tipped back and took a swig Raki understood all those all sayings about water being a life giving substance. Almost instantly he could feel it cooling him and restoring his strength slowly. Like an elixir he could feel life reentering his body.
"Thank you," Raki said as he tossed the skin back to Ermita who was happy to see Raki in good spirits. "Doga….I grew up there many years ago. Have you ever made your way there during your travels?" Raki questioned. Ermita simply shook his head ushering Raki to continue. "It was there a little over seven years ago that I met Clare in Doga…It was also the day that I lost everything." Raki paused for a moment, his shoulders sank as if a burden had been placed upon them.
"If you prefer not…" Ermita broke the silence noticing the obvious pain it was causing.
"No…You are actually the first person outside of one or two others that I have told this to. I need to rid myself of this." Raki assured as he did not raise his eyes to address Ermita directly. "I loved my family…I didn't know it then but the more days I see, the more grateful I am for the family that I did have. They loved me with all their heart and I have journeyed around and seen so many without that. I've seen children neglected by their parents and hate driving families apart." Raki chuckled lightly as he recalled his own family. "My brother Zaki was such an ass," a smile grew on Raki's face as he continued to delve into his memories. "We would get into so much trouble as kids you know…He would always try to blame it on me, always looking to get me in trouble. Of course we had our fights, I mean who doesn't…luckily they were usually small matters like who's turn it was to sweep the porch or something like that."
Raki stopped again as his thoughts and memories raced forward to the last day he saw his family. "You know what haunts me most about those days?" Ermita remained silent as he listened carefully. "I spent many nights, and still do, thinking about how my brother met his end. I try my best not to think of it…I just wish I could have been there to save him or at least do something about it." Raki reached towards the ground grabbing a couple of pebbles squeezing them tightly in his hands. "The worst part of it is I couldn't tell the difference." His voice began to grow darker with rage. "The Zaki that I knew on the day I met Clare was not Zaki, I was talking to a God damn monster and I couldn't tell the damn difference….What kind of brother does that make me!" Raki yelled throwing the pebbles against a nearby tree making them ricochet in every direction as they crashed upon its bark. "My brother was dead and torn to pieces and yet there I was completely oblivious that I was talking to the one who murdered him….it is a fucked up trick to play on someone." Ermita silently nodded in agreement before another thought crossed his mind.
"You said you needed to rid yourself of this? Why me, why are you telling me this…I don't intend to sound ungrateful, but it seems that those memories have been pent up in regret for a long time." Ermita asked genuinely concerned for Raki's mental stability.
"To be honest I'm not sure why I told you this." Raki drew a deep sigh. "I guess I trust you…as odd as that sounds."
"Any other good memories of home still left?" Ermita asked cautiously.
"Yeah… I remember the ashes." Raki raised his head looking directly at his inquisitor. "Last winter I found myself traveling near Doga. Everything within in me was screaming to turn around and walk away from that place, to leave it as a distant memory."
"You are lucky, I never had such a place, when I was young we were always moving from town to town scraping up anything that we could. All the villagers' eyes looking at us in disgust as if some plaque had entered their town." Ermita reflected as the thought of a home played out in his mind.
"It's true, all my fond memories of my family resided there, and I suppose that's why I couldn't just pass up the opportunity." Raki sternly rubbed the back of his neck as he recalled that cold winter night. "The day was nearly over as I reached the outer farms that bordered the town. There wasn't much of a welcome party, which I was thankful for. Most everyone had retired for the day. The cold began to grow as the sun finally set completely below the horizon." Raki began twiddling a stick he had found on the ground. "I could see the many tracks everyone had made on the main street throughout the day. It reminded me of playing in the mud with my brother after a rain. Anyway, I eventually made my way to our house…I wasn't surprised by what I saw. Nothing had been done as I noticed that our home was now condemned." Raki violently broke the twig in between his fingers creating a quick snap. "I stood in front of the house unable to move, I was scared. It was like I was looking into a mirror, time had stopped for both me and my home, nothing had changed inside of us."
Raki reached to the very far corners of his memory and pulled forth all the regret that he held onto so closely. He stood before his home, his center, his world. It was crippling to see just how unchanged everything in the town was. He was told by his parents that time heals all wounds, but that was not so convincing at the moment. Years had marched on since he had traveled near Doga and yet all the hell he experienced here was as fresh as the day he last left it.
"So, after what seemed like hours I gathered the courage to walk inside, the door had been locked but the wooden frame was long rotted away making it easy to simply push open. I saw small piles of snow and moonlight where the roof had begun to collapse." Raki paused as he was obviously completely lost in his memories.
"Please continue." Ermita stated bringing Raki back to the present. Raki flinched ever so slightly as his shoulders sank again.
"I saw that not all life had stopped, a family of foxes had taken up residence in my home and seemed threatened by me…I didn't care much. I looked around and it seemed as if the day they kicked me out of the village they locked up our home. Everything was how I last remembered it; half of the dishes were out ready for dinner. They were set in the same order, I always sat on the side closest to the fireplace." Raki continued to dive deeper into all that he had lost that day.
"I remember having to carefully navigate up the stairs as they had all but rotted away, but I somehow managed to get up them. I finally got up to the second floor and I could still see the blood stained wood. It was difficult to notice in the low light but I knew what I was looking for. They hadn't even bothered to clean up the butchery that took place upon my family. The planks were stained both a deep purple that was nearly black and a red that was just as dark." Raki drew in a deep breath trying his best to keep his composure. "Every place in my house and everything within it had a memory, and they all came barreling towards me in a continuous and unrelenting barrage. I was getting sick so I finally gathered the strength to do what I had come for and then I quickly got out of there."
Raki's gaze looked up to the skies as if tracing the movement of something soaring up above. "It took only a short moment for the local guards stationed in Doga to come rushing over to me as I stood before my home. One of them called out, an older guard, who was around at the time I still lived there. He told me to turn around slowly and I did as he said. He immediately recognized me and instructed the other guard to let me be. He must've took pity on me and realized there was no danger of it spreading, our house stood far enough away from the others." Raki stood to his feet, eyes closed, hands out stretched to either side. "I remember the warmth of the fire, standing there before its great fall, its final moment."
The blaze quickly engulfed the entire house, illuminating everything around it. The flames danced higher and higher clearing well above the other homes. Raki stood mesmerized by its destruction, his jaw dropped in awe as the main supports gave way flattening the house. Thousands of tiny embers shot out in every direction before floating skyward and disappearing into the cold winter sky.
"The ashes began to fall, and with each one landing on me, a memory…gone. It burned down faster than I had imagined, as if it had been preparing itself for this moment for a long time." Raki's hands slowly dropped to his sides and then he returned his sight to Ermita. "The locals didn't bother to say anything to me as the last of the flames were dying out. Many of them stayed in their house looking at me through windows, it was obvious they were troubled by my presence. Anyway, I took a moment to walk among the charred remains of all that was left of my childhood. Anything that wasn't completely destroyed by the fire I created, I took care of personally until nothing remained."
"That seems like it was very difficult, I am not sure if I could've done the same." Ermita added.
"The guard eventually came back after the fire was all but extinguished. He apologized for everything that befell my family those many years ago. I know he was trying to help me as best he could, but my anger had forced any kindness out of my heart." Raki walked over to a small opening on the side of the highway where the ground was flat and void of roots. "He took me on a short walk to the north side of the village, the oldest part of the town. I remember walking by that way many times before, holding my breath as I passed by...superstition I guess."
Raki's knees collapsed as his body came crashing to the ground with a low thud. It had happened the exact same way as he arrived at their final resting place many months ago. The guard had escorted him to the snowy graveyard of Doga. Raki passed the many neatly arranged headstones recognizing many from the years before tragedy wrecked his life.
His hands began to tremble as he spotted the newer and unfamiliar headstones near the end of the row. The guard's snow muffled footsteps had stopped short allowing Raki to continue the last stretch on his own. Snow had piled high against the grave markers covering the names of their occupants. It was tragically obvious where his family rested, two larger headstones guarded a much shorter one standing between them.
Raki knelt before his family as tears flowed down his cold and grief stricken face. Everything he ever was and that had ever really mattered to him was buried six feet underneath him. As he looked at what remained of his family Raki remembered that kid he used to be. He remembered the embrace of his mother and the confident words of his father. Regret drowned his soul as he swore under his breath. He would've given anything to change what had happened that day, even if it meant trading places with the three who rest before him. None of that could change though, he knew this, but accepting it is a much more difficult and haunting task.
"Before that day I had never truly grieved the passing of my family. All those years I had been putting it aside, thinking that if I ignored it long enough it would simply fade away." Raki swallowed hard trying his best to suppress his sorrow. "Even now it is still painful to talk about." He slowly stood to his feet looking east down the highway towards their destination. "Whatever good, whatever…piece of me that was…that was decent. Everything that tied me to my family…. that brought me into this….this shitty world was lying there right before me under those graves!" Raki's voice began to rise with his rage. "I didn't want to go down this path!" The young man's hands balled up into tight fists as hate and regret consumed him. "I have been fumbling aimlessly through this life for the last seven years regretting everyday of it!" Raki felt all that hate from his heart surge painfully up to his mind. He instinctively placed his hands on either side of his throbbing brain screaming in pain. "I want it all to stop!" Raki's head felt as if it was going to burst from the inside out as he continued to clinch his head. "God damn it make it stop!"
Ermita took one cautious step back before he heard Raftlea fashion her claymore. Ermita quickly drew his hand back commanding her to stay put. Raki continued to lament before them, still consumed with rage. "I just wanted to live! …I just wanted to…!" The young man turned in every direction feverishly searching for something. "I just want this to be taken from me! Please just let it pass from ME!" Unable to find relief from his pain Raki slung his broken sword from his shoulders sending it flying towards Ermita. The cloaked man fearfully dodged the swords flight, his eyes wide with panic. "My life was stolen from me! I HATE THIS!" Raki's anger violently exploded, he tightly gripped his chest placing his furious hands over his heart, trying to tear himself apart. "I FUCKING HATE THIS!" Raki shouted with all that was within him.
Both Ermita and Raftela looked at the broken, rage filled man before them. His malevolent and exhausted frame folded onto his knees. His teary blood soaked face tilted back, skyward. The other two finally breathed a sigh of relief noticing the uncomfortable calm that descended upon Raki. It was different this time, Raki could not feel the warmth of the sun upon his face. It had turned into a painful and disgusting heat that scorched his face. He slowly brought his head forward looking at the other two travelers.
"I learned something on that day, we are all drawn back home no matter how terrible the memories or agonizing the act may be. It seems like the old saying is true," Raki chuckled lightly remembering the many times his mother had told him that proverb. "Home is where the heart is…and on that day I burned it to the ground..."
The fragile silence held sway over the three of them for a moment. It was only slightly disturbed as Ermita slowly and confidently walked over to distraught man on his knees in the middle of the highway. He gently came to a stop right next to Raki. Ermita continued to look eastward along the road gently placing his right hand on top of Raki's heavy burdened shoulders.
"Easy…" Ermita breathed lowly as he gently squeezed Raki's shoulder. The young man slowly brought his sight up to the cloaked one standing next to him. It reminded him of the many times his father did the same thing after he had lied to him or did some of the stupid things any child does to worry their parents. The warmth of Ermita's hand faded from raki's shoulder. He took a knee next to him extending a helping hand out to the troubled kid. His eyes met Ermita's own as the tiniest of smiles began to take shape along his face.
"I know this place," Ermita stated pulling Raki up to his feet again. Without pause Ermita quickly took down the road excited as a child. After only a small sprint he stopped just around a sharp turn in the road. The dense forest rapidly faded giving way to open fields and low rolling hills. Before him was a clear and open path leading to the limestone cityscape of Rabona.
"Very dramatic." Raki remarked as he finally caught up with the cloaked man looking towards the holy city.
"They call it the path to heaven, supposed to inspire hope as you travel to this holy city of light." Ermita explained as the group started their walk again.
"We'll see if that name holds up, Clare I hope you are..." Raki stated under his breath.
"I have no doubt that Clare is in Rabona waiting for you." Ermita assured.
"How can you be so certain?" Raki questioned.
"You said so yourself, with an unshakeable confidence I might add." Ermita stated brightly as he noticed another smile glow across Raki's face. "Raftela here is a very gifted warrior, she is able to sense a claymore's yoki from great distances and if Clare is as capable as you say she is then her yoki aura wouldn't be hard to miss." Ermita explained as he looked over at the number ten claymore.
"That must be a hard deal being number ten." Raki said as he looked over his shoulder at the claymore trailing behind him. "I know many within the organization hold the single digit warriors in very high respects, and to be so close has got to be at the very least annoying." The claymore didn't even bother with a response knowing full well her place and purpose.
"Raftela has a very unique position within in the ranks of her comrades." The cloaked man explained. "She is able to search deep within someone and peer into their very soul. She is often able to help new and upcoming warriors cope with their new responsibilities and conquer the demons within each of them."
"You mean their Yoma half, she helps others learn to control it?" Raki questioned as he again looked back at Raftela following close behind them.
"Yes, But the work she does is very delicate," Ermita paused unsure of how to explain. "Sometimes things can go wrong. She is dealing with intense feelings and emotions coupled with the untold and quite savage power of the Yoma. Obviously you can see that this work takes great care because Raftela can inadvertently conjure up demons within her comrades. It is as I said a very delicate process."
"Has something like this happened before?" Raki questioned with another quick glance towards Raftela.
"It has…" Ermita replied regretfully. "Come on, Rabona is only a short walk away."
The heavy wooden door slammed shut as Helen furiously shoved Miria and Deneve into the prayer room. "What the hell was that all about?"
"I don't know but I am seriously reconsidering our safety around Clare." Deneve stated plainly.
"How can you say that, she is most of the reason why we are still standing here today?" Helen shot back sternly.
"I haven't forgotten Helen, but look at what is happening here. She nearly killed Yuma…I am not sure if or when that may happen again. She could hurt anyone of us or herself for that matter." Deneve rationalized logically as Helen simply rolled her eyes in disagreement.
"Miria, you know something and I want to know what. You scared the shit out of Yuma and me no less." Helen redirected to the captain who had removed herself from Deneve her Helen's bickering.
Miria reluctantly stepped closer knowing full well Helen would not let this go unanswered. "Yuma said she saw three within Clare." Miria paused as she tried to piece it together within her mind. "I know the child must have been Clare, the second Yuma obviously already identified as Teresa. The third is what I was afraid of…" The former number six quickly looked around to be sure no one was eavesdropping. "Alright, we know that Clare is a quarter yoma. Within her are the remains of Teresa, so in essences Clare does not have a yoma side. She simply inherited Teresa's yoma half."
"I don't understand what you are getting at, if Clare is only a quarter yoma then she should have more control over it." Deneve interrupted.
"I don't believe it is a measure of the quantity of yoma we possess whether it be and eighth or smaller, it makes no difference. I believe it is simply the measure of the two souls that are within each of us. They are constantly in conflict with one another, one side human and the other yoma, fighting for control over one body. Teresa was a warrior of immeasurable power, able to best all of her comrades with easy grace, and now that power lies within Clare. Teresa was able to have complete control of her Yoma side not even releasing a tenth of her powers. So the question is can Clare do the same with such immense power?" Miria stated grimly.
"We have already seen Clare awaken and she was able to do so partially and then revert back to her human form….I'm sorry Miria I don't see what you are getting at." Helen objected hotly.
"I'm sorry I can't explain it, but something in my gut is telling me that we have yet to see the true side of Clare. I believe that what we saw seven years ago was just Teresa's Yoma half channeled through Clare's hate. If she were to completely lose control, I believe that we would have the unpleasant encounter with Teresa's unfriendly half."
"Well that's just great," Helen stated sarcastically, the smallest trace of fear evident within her tone. "What time is it?"
"Still morning, why does that matter?" Deneve replied with peaked interest.
"Shit, it's going to be tough to find some drinks to drown this all away." Helen stated wasting no time to head out on her booze fueled defense mechanism.
She hadn't made it a few steps out of the cathedral's main entrance before she spotted a familiar silhouette walking from the west gate of the city. Helen's mouth evaporated into a dry wasteland as she swallowed hard. A deluge of terrible thoughts cascaded through her mind as she stood their frozen with fearful curiosity. It was easy to spot the cloaked wrapped individual making his way through the crowded streets.