Rise of Xavia

by Tara Chau

  “Di, what is the matter?” he says worryingly.

  I hesitate before speaking my next sentence. I’ve never told anyone about this. I always thought of it as something just me and my mum shared.

  “26 was my mum’s lucky number. It’s the date of my birthday,” I whisper, a single tear slipping down my cheek.

  Gabe turns around to face me. His face is soft until he turns to look at me completely. Suddenly Gabe’s expression morphs into a blank slate. “Don’t cry.” He says in a rough voice, not a hint of empathy in his voice.

  His harshness surprises me, making the pain in my stomach lift, but instead of leaving, it twists into an ugly knot.

  “Don’t cry,” he repeats.

  I share this personal information with him, and all he does is look at me as if it’s nothing? With the exact amount of pity towards me as you’d give a rock? Well, at least I now know how much I overestimated his empathetic abilities.

  “Your mother wouldn’t want you to cry. There’s no point in crying over something that you can’t help.”

  I stare at him in dismay. Where did all this spite come from?

  “I’m going in. You stay here. I’ll be out in a minute.” He says.

  “Can’t I come in?” I ask.

  Part of me wants to be as far away from him as possible. The other half wants to know why he suddenly went so cold. I also don’t want to be left out here alone.

  “I’ll only be a minute; do you really want to see me getting dressed?” Gabe’s usual self is back, flirtatious and sarcastic, not a glimmer of his former mood swing left in his features.

  “Isn’t there a bathroom in there?” I question.

  “Yes, but I still want you to stay here.”

  And with that, he opens the door just enough for him to slip through and is gone. The fact that he doesn’t want me in there makes me suspicious, but his sudden change in moods is enough to keep me out. I pull out my phone and text Anne.

  D: I started crying because I was talking about my mum (who passed away last year), and Gabe just completely shut me off. Why is that?

  A: Oh, Di, didn’t you know? Gabe’s dad was killed by a rogue vampire three years ago. He was super close to him; Gabe was devastated for months. Then his mum remarried. Gabe loves his new dad heaps, but it’s not the same. You know?

  D: Yes, I know. But I can’t believe that no one told me. I know that it's none of my business, but still. How does that have anything to do with not crying?

  A: Gabe cried for days and wouldn’t even come out of his room, even for missions. For months after that, he would freeze whenever he saw a vamp, wouldn’t come out of his room for days after the encounter.

  D: That’s horrid. But as I said, it still doesn’t explain anything.

  A: Eventually, the Counsel called him into Maline. They told him to pull himself together, or he would no longer be a valid Protector. They said that they would give him three days to fix his life and to stop the fuss.

  A: Gabe knew that his father would not be proud if he threw away his life for nothing. So, when he came back, he locked himself in his room for three days and came out completely new. Said that he’d accepted what had happened and put all the things that reminded him of his father in boxes under his bed. He’s never cried since.

  D: He hasn’t cried in three years?

  A: Not once.

  D: I understand now. He said that there is no point in crying over something you can’t help and that my mother wouldn’t be proud.

  A: He’s gone through a lot Di, remember that.

  D: I promise.

  A: Where are you?

  D: At the Sanctuary, I’m standing outside his room. He’s quickly getting dressed. He won’t let me in!

  A: Don’t feel bad. He doesn’t let anyone in, not even me or Ty.

  I can hear Gabe walking to the door, the handle rattling and his sigh of annoyance.

  D: Gtg, he’s coming.

  A: byeee!

  Gabe comes out of the door, a new grey shirt and black jeans on. His hair looks slightly damp, and I can see a few drops of water running down his neck.

  “Sorry, took longer than expected. I took a quick shower.” He smiles at me, not even a hint of the earlier conversation on his features.

  I can’t help but wonder what Gabe would have been like three years ago.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. You only took about five minutes.” I say.

  “And I told you I would only take one minute. Anyway, let’s go.” He gives me a nervous look.

  “Where are we going next?” I ask. He hesitates before speaking.

  “To get your tattoo.”

  I stare at him in shock, my… tattoo. I hadn’t thought about that. Gabe turns around and starts to walk down the hallway. I jog after him and come to a stride beside him.

  “I can’t,” I say sternly.

  Gabe turns to look at me with a puzzled look plastered to his face. “Why?” he asks.

  “Because I wasn’t born a Protector, if I came home with a tattoo that represents my lost family bloodline, something that I’m betting dad doesn’t know about, he’ll freak.”

  A strange expression passes over Gabe’s face. An expression that is a mix between constipation, shock and restrained laughter. Although that last part doesn’t quite work. Gabe looks away and starts laughing. By the time he has composed himself, there are big fat tears rolling down his face.

  “Di, no creature without our gifts or demon blood in them can see it. It’s done with heated Angel blood. Your father won’t be able to see it, even if he knew it was there.” He smiles, one that reaches his eyes.

  He starts to walk again, slow and steady. I saunter after him, shoulders hunched and head down.

  “It’s going to hurt, isn’t it?” I say quietly.

  “Yes, it is unimaginable.” He answers in a flat tone.

  “I don’t know if I can do it.”

  “I know you can. This is a test. If you can deal with the pain that comes with the tattoo, then you are a Protector. If you can’t handle it, then you train for years, as long as it takes to be ready. But I know that you are strong. You have a strong will that no amount of pain can break.” He says. I can tell from the look in his eyes that he truly does believe in what he’s saying.

  “Your faith in me is undeniable. You can’t count on me. I’ll just let you down.” I frown.

  “Never.” He whispers.

  That seemed to be Gabe’s thing. He always said that word. To him, it mustn’t mean much. After all, according to a Protector, you never leave your partner behind. But to me, it’s special. Like he is completely mine, like he is never going to leave my side. It scares me but also fills me with warmth.

  “There is a lady. Her name is Astrid Nevine. She will be doing your tattoo. She is really kind. You have no need to be worried.” He reassures.

  “Yeah, except for that little fact about how ‘unimaginable’ the pain will be,” I say sarcastically.

  “Di, you’ll be fine. I’ll be with you the whole way. You can even hold my hand if you wish.” He smiles.

  I reach for his hand as we turn around the corner. I hold on tight. Gabe gives a little gasp. I turn to face him as he gives me a proud smile.

  “You’re strong. Try not to break my hand, alright?”

  “Yes, sir.” I give a mock salute with my free hand, and we both laugh.

  The hallway seems to be closing in on me. I can feel myself sweating and goosebumps emerging. To distract me, I ask him another question.

  “Gabe, what other abilities do Protectors have?” he looks at me sideways, and I see a spark light up in his eyes.

  “Protectors have all their senses heightened by at least ten, depending on your own genes. We are stronger, faster, have more agility; we can see in the dark. Our hearing is very good. I can sometimes hear the flapping wings of the birds that nest two houses down. But it all takes h
uge amounts of practice and focus, especially when you want to drown the noise out.”

  “That sounds amazing,” I say genuinely.

  “It can be a curse as well as a gift.” He says, and I cringe.

  We turn one more corner and come to a stop in front of a glass door. A big red cross has been pasted to the door; bold black writing is sprawled across the top.

  Infirmary

  Gabe shoulders the door open and steps aside to hold the door, motioning for me to enter. The floors are tiled and the walls white. Five hospital beds on both sides of the room are spread out evenly. A girl sits at a desk to the side of the room, scribbling hastily. An archway appears on the other side of the room. Making our way through, it takes a while for me to take in everything on the other side. The walls are stuffed with shelves that are full of medical things. There are books and some random personal items. Cupboard’s line the left side of the wall, and more beds are stationed on the right side of the room. In the left corner stands a chair, resembling a dentist chair almost.

  A young woman who looks about twenty years old walks up to both of us, her smile bright and warm.

  “Hi,” she says cheerfully. “I’m Astrid. I’ll be doing your signum today.” I look at her with questioning eyes. “Oh, right. I’ll be doing your tattoo.”

  “Okay, it’s nice to meet you, Astrid,” I say kindly but am still unable to hide the fear from my voice.

  She gives me a welcoming smile and nods towards the dentist chair, I assume that she wants me to sit down in it, so I make my way over and perch on the edge. I wait a few seconds, and when she doesn’t comment, I reposition myself, so my body is pressed firmly to the back.

  “What is your family name, sweetheart?” She inquires as she works with a tablet at the other end of the room.

  “Ah…I can’t really remember. I’m sought of new to all this stuff.” I admit.

  “She is an Iysador, Dianna Iysador.” Gabe breathes.

  Astrid whirls around, eyes full of shock and disbelief.

  “Believe me, what I say is true. We checked with Omar. I hope you still have the template to do the signum.” Gabe says, pulling up a chair and sitting next to me.

  “I-are you sure? Wait, never mind. I should know to not question you by now. I might have it. You two will have to find a way to amuse yourselves while I hunt for it, though. Plus, there is preparing all the stuff. You guys might be waiting for about…fifteen minutes.” she says regretfully.

  “That’s alright,” I say. “I have plenty I need to clear up with Gabe.” I see Gabe lift one eyebrow from the corner of my eye.

  “Alright then, I’ll be back shortly.” And with that, she dashes out through the arch and disappears.

  “So, what is it you needed to talk about?” Gabe questions once she’s gone.

  “Nothing,” I say honestly. “Just said it to reassure her.”

  “Oh, okay, in that case, I have an idea of how we can pass the time.” He says.

  “Speak,” I demand curiosity can be a dangerous thing.

  “Well,” he begins, “I hardly know anything about you, and I would really like to get to know what goes on inside that little brain of yours.”

  “First of all, my brain is not little. It is the perfect size. And secondly, I hardly know anything about you either.”

  “So, what I propose is that we play a game.” He requests.

  “A game?” I repeat.

  “You tell me something you love, something that you hold very close to your heart. And I’ll tell you something I love in return. Then you tell me something you are afraid of, then it would be my turn to do the same. So on, and so forth.”

  “That is a great idea.” I admit, “I’ll start?”

  “Well, it would be rude if I didn’t allow a lady to go first now, wouldn’t it?” he says sarcastically.

  I stick my tongue out at him, and he gives me a familiar smile. “Okay, so I really love drawing. I used to draw a lot before we came to England. It helped calm my nerves. Drawing has always been my escape. When I felt sad or lonely, I would take comfort in a pencil and paper.” A heavy sigh escapes my lips. “My mother taught me how to draw. In a way, she is still with me, guiding me through life like she did my art works.” I look at Gabe, who is giving me a small smile. “Okay, it’s your turn.” I glance away for a moment as I hold back tears.

  “Um, fighting. I love fighting.” He says stiffly.

  “Oh no, I just told you something very important to me. You have to give me something genuine. Like you said, something that you really truly love doing.” I glare at him, using my eyes to pry the information out of him.

  “I-I love swimming. The water is calming. When I have my head under, I can let the sea wash away all my worries and fears. It can just be me for a little while. The water helps me think, keeps me calm enough for me to truly think things through without doing anything rash. I try to swim at least three times a week. Sometimes I can only get in one session. It just depends whether the demons feel like being a pain or not.” He says, a hint of embarrassment lying under his words.

  I smile at him, a warm one that lets him know no judgment will come from me. I search the back of my brain to find something I’m scared of. I don’t have to look long.

  I breathe deeply. “Ever since I was young, I have feared storms. I’ll admit that I’m petrified of them. I always have dreams of red skies and the earth-shattering, the wind howling l-like wolves. Lightning bringing the sky to life, flashes of demons and evil beings. My mother used to come and tell me stories or sing to me during the storms, anything to distract me. Ever since she left, it’s been worse. My father helps, but it’s not the same.” I say quietly.

  Gabe gives me the same smile I held on my lips before, no judgment.

  “I’m scared of…spiders.” Gabe decides.

  I look up at him. Something in the way he slouches and doesn’t look back at me sets me off.

  “Liar. Tell me what you are really frightened of.” I say sternly, calling him out.

  “If I do, you’ll think I’m mad.” He says reluctantly.

  “Never,” I say evenly, recalling all the times he said it to me, how it made me feel good, safe and warm.

  He smiles at me and nods, his breath shaky. “The dark. I’m scared of the dark. I know what you’re thinking. How can a Protector be afraid of the dark? My dad once said that I wasn’t afraid of the dark, but what was in it. He was wrong. I am terrified of the dark. I never sleep without a light on. If I’m in the dark for longer than a few minutes, I start to go crazy. It’s like a huge black hole that’s trying to swallow me. Take me in and keep me there, where I’m alone with all the bad things I’ve ever done. The dark is a lonely place. No one would be able to find me or save me. I’ve trained myself to fear nothing, to depend on no one. But to be in the dark alone… it would probably destroy me.”

  Gabe breathes unevenly, eyes focused on something far off. “It surrounds you, suffocating you in its huge timeless void of nothing. In a dark place, there is no hope. No shred of light can keep you going. It drains you of everything. There is nothing to remind you of what you once had, your life in the light. It is the only thing I cannot stand.”

  I look into his eyes, and he looks into mine. I can tell that he was telling the truth by the despair that rings through his voice. By the way, his eyes have that hesitant look. Like he is seeing truly horrifying things flash before him. It’s the first time I genuinely look into his eyes. To my surprise, I realise that they’re not actually black. I can’t find the words to describe them. Dark brown, deep coffee, dark hazel? Maybe a charcoal-y colour. They are indeed beautiful. Mostly a dark brown but with multiple shreds of different colours. Orange, green and somehow red. It reminds me of coal when it isn’t quite burnt out, but not fully alight either.

  I try reaching down into the depths of my mind to find a word that I can use to describe them. Surely, I can think of some colour, something
to explain the tones of his pupils. There is nothing, no word that can truly describe what I am gazing at now, except…Gabe. It is simply Gabe. That is the only way to describe them. No, not describe them, but to describe him. I realise that Gabe is staring right back at me, into my rosy eyes that could either bring forth light or dark. Suddenly I feel naked, like I am showing him my… everything. People do say that ‘eyes are the windows to the soul.’

  “Okay, I’m back. Let’s get started.” Astrid’s voice sings across the room, causing me and Gabe to jump in surprise.

  I blush, and Gabe sits back against his chair. We both look like we have been doing something horrendously bad, which makes me blush and makes Gabe look awkward.

  “Don’t worry, Dianna.” Astrid winks as she walks towards us. “I know Gabe is too much of a chicken to do anything that would make me suspicious. Even though you both look so guilty, it almost makes me want to take a picture.” I blush harder, and Gabe starts to stutter, obviously trying to defend himself.

  “As I said before,” Astrid says with a smile. “Let’s get started.”

  My hands start to shake. Gabe looks at me worryingly before placing his hand over mine, swallowing my hand under his.

  “Dianna, this is an excruciating process, and it is permanent. Are you sure you want to go through with this?” Astrid’s voice holds a note of concern.

  I glance at Gabe, who is no help at all. I really need to get better at reading expressions, including his stony mask.

  “I’m sure.” I decide. “This is my world, too; I have the right to fight for it. I can’t do that without this tattoo signum.”

  Astrid nods, walking over to a small cupboard in the wall. She pulls out an item that I remember to be a Sterling. Ty had one that he used to open the door to his den.

  Hers is similar in shape and size, but it has no birds. Instead, it holds an imprint of two falling leaves. It’s pretty. Astrid holds her Sterling over the cupboard, and it pops open, revealing a vault of some sort. She then prints the same signum that I saw Ty do onto the door, the symbol for open. Astrid carefully takes out a small flask of deep gold liquid, placing it softly on the table. She closes the volt and then the door. Dragging over another chair, she places the vile in Gabe’s hand, moving a small desk to the other side of her chair. After all that, she sits and takes the vile back from Gabe, placing it gently on the table next to her.