Beneath the stains of time

The feelings disappear

You are someone else

I am still right here

27 - Grief

I was falling. Then I wasn't.

I could feel gravity pulling me down, smell the smoke from the nearest sinkhole, the coolness of the wind on my skin.

My knees shook. This time, I let myself be weak and fall to the ground, sob like a child. I kept my eyes shut, praying to whoever might be listening to please let this be a dream.

With my head between my arms, I waited for Cairo to move. He didn't. He was still on one knee, eyes closed.

"Cai," I called, nudging him.

As I feared, he stayed stock-still. What now? I asked myself, hoping that the older-wiser me would have an answer. But I guess not even a thousand years of existence could prepare anyone for this.

Aramis! Alex's voice rang in my head. Are you there?

I clasped a hand over my mouth before answering "Yes," as if he would notice I was crying through my thoughts.

"Where are you?"

Looking around, I tried to reorient myself.

"Main Gate Eleven."

"What were you thinking going there?"

"I wasn't thinking. I messed up. I... Dad's dead."

There wasn't an immediate answer.

"Don't you move. I'll be right there in a minute."

So I waited. My legs wouldn't move anyway. I just sat there with the motionless Cairo, watching the smoke from the hole reach the heavens, strangely relieved that Alex couldn't get here fast enough.

Alexis and Amyr eventually arrived, out of breath, faces dotted with sweat.

"Cairo," Alex called, waving a hand in front of his brother's face.

"He wouldn't wake up," I said, realizing the meaning of Cairo's last words. "He didn't come back with me. Carter, Dad and now... Cairo."

My voice was weak, hoarse. But I had already composed myself. At least that was what I thought until Amyr hunkered down and placed his arms around me.

I broke down. The tears I thought had run dry came flooding my eyes.

"Did they have to die? Did they all have to die because of me?"

Amyr never answered. Neither did Alex.

How we got back to the motel room was a blur to me. All I remembered doing was staring at Cairo's face.

"He's alive," Alex reassured me as he finished examining his brother. He got up from the side of the bed, lowering his head to catch my gaze. "Just... asleep. We will just have to wait for him to wake up."

"When?" I asked, my voice mechanical.

With a sigh, Alex massaged the bridge of his nose. "As soon as he returns to his body."

"What if he doesn't?"

The door opened and Vincent came in, his eyes focused on the bed where Cairo lay, but not exactly on Cairo.

"He will," Vincent said, addressing my question, but not necessarily addressing me. "Vlad's on his way here. Until they arrive, no one's leaving this room."

And that meant me.

I waited for the anger, the flying furniture. None came. Only silence.

Amyr clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, shaking his head when he saw my reaction.

It was Alex who exhibited outstanding bravery by breaking the awkward silence that filled the room.

"What now?"

Vincent crossed his arms in front of him, brows almost meeting in deep thought.

"The most reasonable thing to do would be to bury him... Or chuck him in an oil tank filled with cement. It's a difficult choice."

Pressing his lips together, Amyr suppressed a snort. Alex just tilted his head as if considering it.

"You wouldn't!" The words spilled out of my mouth before I could think. "He's your brother!"

Vincent cringed.

"It hurts when you say that, y'know?" he said, still not looking at me. "I guess, we could put Sleeping Beauty here in a hospital."

"Preferably, somewhere Legion can't visit and try to make Sloppy Joe out of him," Amyr added.

"I know a place," said Alex, giving Vincent a meaningful look. "They have a state of the art medical facility, rooms with great views, staff with years and years of experience and the best security there is on the face of the planet."

Vincent groaned, tilting his head back. "You've gotta be kidding me."

"If I were, you would be laughing."

"Hell?"

Alex nodded slowly. "Hell."

***

Vincent and I hadn't had the chance to talk since I came back. A lot of times, I was left out of any conversation. He and I were never in the same room. I wanted to talk to him, but I was scared of inevitable confrontation.

Honestly, it was way worse than getting hit by vase.

I knew it was my fault. A lot of this was, so I let him be.

Just as Alex had reassured us that Cairo's condition is stable for transport to Halja, Vincent immediately volunteered. It had just been hours since he left with Amyr, but his absence made me uneasy.

Instead, I focused my energy on relaying to Alex every single thing I had learned from Scrying, including Sharifa's master plan and why they needed Vincent. Not that it helped much. He was sure Irvine and Sharifa had fled by now. But just to be sure, Vladimir's group made a detour to the cabin to find more clues. And hopefully, bring back my father's remains.

"The soul offering," I said to Alex as his eyes alternated between the pages of an old book and the laptop screen. "When do we do it?"

The furrow on his forehead eased as he looked up to me.

"There has been a major adjustment to our time-line since they don't have your father anymore--" his gaze fell back on the monitor, eyes distant "--as leverage... Sorry."

I stared at the floor.

"I am very sorry," he went on. "I shouldn't have put it that way."

Shaking my head, I sat on the edge of the table where he was working. I tried to not feel. The detachment happened so easily, even I was surprised at myself. Then I realized that it was Alessandra -- the old me -- who made it possible.

I needed to be here and now. If I was to be of any use to them, I had to focus on the task at hand and then, maybe, if everything went out as planned and all of this was over, grieve for my loss.

"But we still don't have the Grimoire," I pointed out.

"A major setback, unfortunately." He began typing and taking notes again. "What I don't understand is why they are not making a move. Even without Vincent's help, the extent of destruction Legion can deal is already astonishing."

"Shouldn't we be glad that the world's not ending, yet?"

"Yes, but something is not right and I don't like it."

I reached for his empty cup and headed for the coffeemaker Vincent snuck in. Alex never really slept while there was work to be done and he drank his coffee like water.

As I made coffee, I tuned out my own thoughts and stared at the TV. We had never turned it off, either. The noise was a welcome distraction.

First was a weather report, then some kind of eclipse.

All of a sudden, Alex straightened on his chair.

"Can you raise the volume?"

I grabbed the remote and turned it up.

Intently, Alex listened, head tilting from one side to another as he did. Once the segment was over, I turned it off.

"What's that about?"

He grabbed the cup from me, took a gulp of the hot liquid and set it down without a word. Feverishly, he began flipping the pages of the book he was reading.

"The Scarlet Beast," he murmured.

His right hand automatically pianoed the keyboard before slamming on Enter. His eyes went back and forth the screen for a couple minutes, his shoulders rising and falling erratically. With a shaky hand, he reached for the coffee and downed it in one gulp.

"That was hot, Alexis," I reminded him, although it was two seconds too late.

Still absorbed in his readings, he fumbled for the Sharpies on the table. He began writing on the wall--which was vandalism at its finest--symbols I didn't comprehend. He also drew a dark moon and a lot of arrows.

"What does it mean?"

Again, he didn't respond. Something told me he had stepped into another room and locked the door.

For a few minutes, I watched him. But then, I got bored so I did my fare share of vandalism on the other wall, the contents of which, I prefer not to divulge.

"Lunar eclipse," he finally spoke after a while.

"What's wrong?"

Unblinkingly, he stepped back, his eyes still sweeping the writings on the wall with something between awe and fear. Closing his eyes, he sagged back on the chair, muttering incomprehensibly under his breath.

"Alex!" I held his shoulders. "Talk to me!"

With start, he looked at me, eyes wide. It took him a moment to recover, but as soon as he did, I heard his voice in my head.

"All units regroup A.S.A.P."

He was talking to everyone within the Link, the urgency in his voice leaving a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.

Vladimir was the first to respond. "Copy. We'll be there as soon as we're done here."

"Vlad, are you in the enemy lair?"

"Yes, Alex. We found some things you would want to see. Might point us to where they are headed."

Alex nodded, his jaw tensing. "What about Cairo?"

"No sign of him," the boy answered, his tone hesitant. "If his astral projection is still here, we wouldn't be able to see him unless he tries to make contact... And another thing. Aramis?"

I stiffened on my spot. "I'm here."

"We can't find your father."

"What? They took his body?!"

There was an expectant pause. "There is no way to tell, Aramis. We found the rubble and a trail of blood. Archie is trying to follow were it leads."

I held onto the edge of the table. My whole body shook. The pain I was trying so hard to bury inside me started to claw its way out, making it hard to breathe.

"Aramis?" Alex came to my side, resting a hand on my back.

Closing my eyes tight, I sucked in a lungful of air as the image of Dad's lifeless body flashed before my eyes. I didn't cringe. Didn't look away. I stared at him, at the blood until it was all burned at the back of my eyelids.

My knuckles were white when I opened my eyes. Surprisingly, calmness took over, replacing the pain in my chest with malignant cold.

"I'm fine," I told Alex, shirking him.

"Just got out of hell's Door, Alex," Vincent joined the Link. "On the way."

Alex stumbled back to his table and opened the surveillance maps. He zoomed in until he had a good view of Sinclair Mansion. The maps changed colors based on the degree of soul traffic. As far as I could tell, no red dots mean no wraiths, which was the case here.

Good thing, too, because Vincent's only way to Halja was the Door in the mansion.

"Vincent, I'm reading minimal wraith activity within your perimeter, please confirm," Alex inquired mentally.

"Yeah. Zero wraiths. Weird," he answered.

"Good." Glancing furtively at my direction, Alex said, "Hold your position. I need a... scroll from the Archives. I'll send Aramis to you with the details," as he began scribbling something on a piece of paper.

I felt my brows knitting. But then, when the Archives was mentioned, I automatically started to get ready. The Archives is where we keep records of death schedules.

"Or you can just tell me now." Even Vincent sounded confused. "It'd save us time."

"We have time."

As I slipped into my draughting boots, I searched Alexis' face. It was hard to tell what he was thinking, but it was obvious something was up.

"And Vincent?"

"Yeah?"

"Send Amyr back here."

"Now?"

"Yes, now," Alex muttered, dropping his stare on the open page of his book as soon as he caught me watching. "I need his help."

"With what?" His mental voice hinted suspicion.

"Research and... stuff."

"You need Amyr. For research."

Like anyone would buy that.

"And stuff... Stuff is important."

"Right..."

"Copy that." It was Amyr's playful voice this time. "Amyr, on his way home. To do 'stuff'. Over."

As I got up, Alex walked over to me.

"Is it bad?" I asked.

The corners of his lips twitched up as if to smile. "It's... difficult to tell until you get back with the scroll."

"That's... reassuring."

He reached for my hand, placed a piece of folded paper on my palm and closed my fingers around it. Giving my hand a gentle squeeze, he met my eyes. "Take as much time as you need... Two hours, maximum."

I managed a smile. "I'll set the timer then."