Rise of Xavia

by Tara Chau

  “I had my phone switched off, and eighty percent of the time I was knocked out, and the other twenty was me getting my ass handed to me,” he defends. I’m relieved to see some of his usual defiance back in his unyielding stare.

  I cross my arms tight around me, stopping myself from punching anything. Closing my eyes tight, I collapse to the floor, hard. Sitting on my legs, I breathe deeply. Where all this anger came from, I have no idea. All I know is that I can’t look Gabe in the eyes right now or even talk without yelling.

  “Di?” he asks, sounding deflated. “I can’t exactly get up and walk over to you right now, so would you do me a favour? Stand up and look at me while you tell me why you’re actually upset.”

  I shake my head slowly then remember that he can’t see me. “No, I cannot stand up and look at you.”

  “Why?” he asks.

  “Because I’ll get angry.” It takes so much effort for me to speak without yelling or getting up to kick something, so when I do say it, it comes out shaky and small.

  “Stand up,” he demands sternly. These are the first words out of his mouth that don’t sound strained or shaky. He sounds strong… and angry.

  I slowly take in a breath and stand up, wincing from the ache of my legs. Walking over to the chair stationed beside his bed, I sit, looking down at my feet, still unable to look at him.

  “Look at me,” he orders.

  “Are you okay?” I ask shakily.

  “Yes,” he answers.

  “Are you in pain?” I question.

  “No, they give me meds to deal with the pain. I’m not healing as I should be. The vamp stabbed me with a Lilith blade made of the metals from her realm. I’ll be back on my feet in about a week,” he says.

  “Good,” I express, “then I’ll let you rest. Call me if you need anything.” I get up fast and hurry to where I entered.

  “Dianna,” he says calmly.

  His voice isn’t angry anymore. Just quiet and calm, and it scares me more than when he sounded mad. I ready myself and gather all the self-restraint I can muster, then turned around to look at Gabe in the eye. They are black, not his usual burning ember, but black. They expressed anger, fear, longing, and defeat.

  “I’m taking the day off school today. I’ll be in the training room. I told my dad that I was sick, which wasn’t exactly a lie. Ask someone to fetch me if you have any more problems. I’m glad that we have you back, Gabe,” I say flatly.

  “Thank you,” he says in the same dangerously calm voice.

  “For what, Gabe?”

  “For saving me. If you and Anne weren’t there when you were, I would have died,” he speaks.

  “No, you wouldn’t have. You would have been stubborn and killed them all, even after you were stabbed,” I say with a weak smile.

  He chuckles softly to himself and looks down at his fidgeting hands that are resting in his lap. “No, I had given up by then. I would have died last night because I believed… that it would be easier than living.”

  I stare at him in shock, unable to process what he had just said. Then he speaks again, this time, in a regretful manner.

  “Sometimes choosing to live is braver than choosing to die.”

  “Stop,” I demand, my eyes shut tight like it can somehow erase the last thirty seconds if I tried hard enough.

  “Why would you say that?” I ask shakily.

  “Because,” he speaks regretfully. “I’ve been a Protector for years. You have no idea how many people, monsters, and animals I’ve killed. I have to live with that Di. I have to live with this constant voice in the back of my head, telling me that I’m the monster. That’s why it was so easy for me to give up,” he admits.

  “No, that’s not right, Gabe. You are seventeen, too young to die. I have been dragged into this mess, and I understand that at times, yes, it will be easier to surrender. Despite that, both you and I have so much to live for. I can’t say the same for the whole world, but I know for a fact that everyone I know has at least one amazing thing to carry on for. So, next time you’re thinking about doing something so stupidly idiotic, tell me first. And I will personally kill you.”

  He looks at me with shielded eyes and nods confidently. This is not the Gabe that I know. What happened to the self-confident guy that constantly teases me?

  “Thanks for the pep talk, beautiful,” he says with his reinstated smirk as if the last minute didn’t happen.

  “Any time, Chip, but it’s your turn to do the pep talk next time.” I smile at his annoyed face.

  “If I could walk, I would come up to you right now and hold you upside down until a new nickname falls out of that infuriating mouth of yours,” he growls sarcastically.

  “Well, then you would get a good taste of my self-taught fighting skills,” I say, forcing a laugh, his words still bouncing around inside my brain. “You’re going to have to accept that’s what your name is, and you can’t change it.”

  “You better run Reeds before I press this button to call the nurse and tell her that you’re harassing her patient,” he warns.

  I smile slyly at him, sticking my tongue out like a child. “Be back in later. I’ll train and then pick up some breakfast and come back. Do you want something?” I ask as I draw the curtain back.

  “Bring me a chocolate milkshake?” he says with a charming smile.

  “Alright, go to sleep Chip, it will be a while.” I smile back at him and walk out, only allowing my smile to fall once I exit the infirmary.

  Making my way down the halls, I exhale in relief as I find the training hall. After a week and a half of training in this very room, you’d believe that I would know the way blindfolded. Nope.

  Walking over to the top right-hand side of the training room, I see a row of punching bags. I strip off my jacket and approach the bags, planting my feet into the firm mat and placing my fists up close to my face. I throw a right punch at the bag. Splitting pain travels from my knuckles up my arm. You’d think that after a weeks’ worth of punching a stupid bag filled with sand, that it wouldn’t hurt as much.

  Gabe’s mood swings are giving me whiplash. He was tired, angry, defeated, then flirtatious. I’m so confused. Punch.

  I always thought that he was so confident and brave, and nothing gets to him. Punch. If Gabe is breaking under the responsibilities of being a Protector, then what’s going to happen to me? Punch.

  I never even wanted to be part of this before. Maybe Ty was right. I’m probably not cut out for this type of thing. Punch, punch, punch.

  I have started to sweat. Saltwater dripped from my forehead, my knuckles ached and cuts already started to appear. My skin has split along the ridges. I rub at the reddened skin and suck in a breath. Jumping up and down for a few seconds, I attempted to shake the tension from my body. I turned back to the punching bag, which is not looking much better than my knuckles. Punch.

  It would be nice to go to school one day and not feel like a zombie. To just be normal for a change. To forget about all this and have twenty-four hours so I can just decide whether I want to be a Protector for the rest of my life or not. That would be a luxury. Punch. Punch.

  All this is so confusing Ty doesn’t think I can do it. Anne is supportive but still unsure. Gabe is so kind and understanding but has his own problems with being a Protector. Punch, Punch, Punch.

  Anger, confusion, frustration, my large array of emotions come flooding out at once. I punch and kick and yell in frustration, doing my best to vent all my emotions into this poor bag rather than out there where the casualties could be greater. I find that training is a good way to blow off some steam. It drains enough energy, so I won’t be able to hit anything important. I punch the bag one last time, hard and fast. My fist flying through the seams and into the bag, causing sand to spill out through the hole and come to rest around my feet.

  I hiss as sand grains stick into my cuts, rubbing against my sensitive skin. Gazing at the sand scattered across
the mat, I wipe my forehead with the back of my hand after first ridding it of sand. Picking up my jacket, I make my way to the cafeteria, deciding that I am done for the day.

  As I walk, I work on my breathing, trying to get back the slow constant breaths instead of the ragged shallow breaths coming out of me now. I tie back my hair into a high ponytail, letting the cold air blow against my neck as I walk at a fast pace. The cafeteria is nearly empty, so it only takes a short time to get to the front of the line. I order Gabe’s milkshake and my usual blueberry muffin, along with a large coffee. Walking to the side where you are to pick up your order, I wait.

  What happened to Gabe while he was missing? He seemed destroyed and not like himself at all. Then again, I don’t really know him all that well. I’ve only been going to school for a few weeks. I’ll have to ask what happened to see if anything dramatic went down.

  “Dianna?” the waitress calls.

  “Yes, thank you.” I smile as she hands me the bag and the two drinks.

  Making my way back to the infirmary, I plan some questions for Gabe to answer. I enter the infirmary with a new attitude, determined to understand him. Walking to Gabe’s bed that is hidden by the curtains surrounding it, I place a smile on my face and strut in.

  Gabe is sitting up, back to the headboard and reading a book. He looks up at me and smiles as I drag up a chair to sit next to him, handing the shake over. He takes it gratefully and starts drinking it immediately. I laugh quietly and start on my muffin.

  “How was training?” he asks.

  “It was productive,” I answer. “I killed something, though.”

  “What?” he looks at me in shock and worries, placing his shake on the flimsy bedside table next to him where he had already stationed the book.

  I smile widely at him and laugh. “Relax, it was only a punching bag. Admittedly it did put up one hell of a fight.”

  He immediately relaxes and picks up his shake once more. “Was it a dirty fight?” he humours.

  “Very. I completely gutted the thing. It is definitely dead,” I say with a wide smile.

  He laughs while shaking his head. “What are you eating, Reeds?”

  “Blueberry muffin and a coffee.”

  I hold up the half-eaten muffin for him to see while taking a sip of my coffee. He gives me a mischievous smile. Before I have time to react, Gabe grabs the muffin from my hand and stuffs it in his mouth.

  “Gabe,” I shout, pouncing up.

  He shrugs and smiles broadly at me, like a child who is very much guilty but thinks they can get away with the horrible action they have done just by looking cute. Gabe swallows it all down and takes a huge gulp of his drink.

  “I am satisfied with my care,” he says calmly.

  “What the hell?” I screech.

  “Thank you, Di.” He finishes his drink and puts the empty cup back on the table.

  “So, I’m guessing that you have a lot to live for,” I say grumpily.

  “What?” he asks, confused.

  “You said that you wanted to die. I convinced you with an amazing pep talk that you had so much to live for, and this is how you repay me? I recall.

  “I-I said that? That really happened?” he asks unbelievingly.

  “Gabe, that was literally forty-five minutes ago. Are you sure you’re okay?” I ask worriedly.

  “How was I acting? Anything out of the ordinary? You need to tell me exactly what happened, Dianna,” he says. The look in his eyes tells me that this is serious.

  So, I tell him about our conversation and how he was having major mood swings, how he was so distant and acted so scared. I told him that he was going to surrender to the vamps and wanted them to kill him. When I am done, I noticed he’s turned so pale, like he was deep in thought, thinking about something really, really bad.

  “I would never surrender,” he mumbles.

  “I’m sorry?” I ask.

  “I would never surrender, you know that. You said that I had major mood swings, right?”

  “Yes,” I assure.

  “Quick, Di, check if there is anything on the back of my neck. If it’s what I think it is, then it should be pretty big and pale blue.”

  I get up slowly and sit on the edge of the bed. Gabe leans forwards so I can look at the back of his neck. I try to ignore the hiss of pain that comes from Gabe as I nudge him forwards more. Reluctantly, I bring my hand up to push aside Gabe’s hair that is covering the top part of his neck. It is soft, smooth, like silk. I hesitantly pull my attention back to find whatever might be on the back of his neck. Scanning carefully, I spy a small circular shape with a line through the middle, glowing, pulsing blue. I draw my hand back and hastily sit back down on the chair and swallow down some coffee. Gabe looks at me with curious eyes, and I nod reluctantly.

  “Yes, there is something there, a blue circular-shaped thing. It has a line through the middle as well.”

  He nods slowly, processing this new information. “It’s called a Skile. The holder will have dramatic mood swings. It gives their opponents an advantage because it mainly causes fear, but sometimes rage. That’s why I was ready to surrender and why I was talking about death with you. The fear comes in waves. I had a friend once who had this charm cast on him for some reason, and he committed suicide when a particularly strong wave hit him. They’re illegal now, so this shouldn’t have happened. Whichever vamp did this to me needs to be turned in to the Counsel.” He says matter-of-factly.

  “How do we get rid of it?” I ask nervously.

  “Umm, well, it was created for the vampires by warlocks, so we’ll have to go to the vamps and then if they’re no help, the warlocks,” he says thoughtfully.

  “Well, the sooner, the better,” I say confidently.

  “I’m not going to be travelling anywhere while I’m healing. It will have to wait till next weekend. Di, you can’t tell anyone about the Skile, the head of the Sanctuary could deem me unfit to be in the field,” he says pleadingly.

  “You are unfit to be in the field,” I point out.

  “No, I mean that he could forbid me from going to the vampire den. I’d have to stay here until the cure comes to me,” he expresses.

  “Oh, and you hate to be on the sidelines while people are fighting. I know enough about you to know that I’m correct.” I say.

  “Yeah, you’re correct,” he says reluctantly with a sigh.

  I give him a smile and take a sip of my coffee. “Can I tell Anne?”

  “Yeah, tell Anne, but promise me that you will stop her if she decides to kill me. I have concluded that I really don’t want to die any time soon. I hope to live to a ripe old age.” he states.

  I laugh softly as I place the coffee back down. “So, what do you do when you have nothing to do?” I kick off my joggers and rest my feet on the edge of the bed. Gabe looks at me with a sour face and pushes them back onto the floor aggressively.

  “Sleep. It hurts to even talk, let alone move,” he explains.

  “Well, as much as I want you to get better, I’m here, and I’ve got the whole day off, so let’s do something,” I say with a hopeful smile.

  He gives a big, exasperated sigh and looks at me, “You are the biggest pain, Reeds.”

  “That’s me,” I beam. “Hey, I just noticed. Why do you call me Reeds and not Iysador?”

  “I don’t know,” he admits. “I guess because you were a Reeds when I met you. Just because we found out you’re an Iysador, it doesn’t make you any different from when we didn’t know. You’ll always be a Reeds; it’s who you are.” He looks at me, trying to figure out what I might think about what he just said. “Alright, let's quiz each other,” he adds, changing the subject.

  “Okay,” I nod, deciding it would be too hard to answer him, “so I’ll ask you a question, and you have to answer,” I say.

  He nods and repositions himself in bed, pushing himself up more, bringing up his right leg so he can rest his chin on it. />
  “Where do you want to travel to the most in the world?” I ask curiously.

  “Italy,” he says straight away, no hesitation.

  “Why?”

  “Because,” he starts. “I love Italian food; I want to go to Venice as well. Because of the buildings and the culture. It’s also where my parents met. They worked together on a case at the Venice Sanctuary. Afterwards, they wanted to keep in touch. They had their first date at Lato Mare Venezia. Seaside Venice. It is one of Venice’s most famous restaurants; fancy and on the water. My father knew that my mother loved the water, so he picked it specifically to impress her.”

  Gabe sighed heavily. “They both loved Italy and said that Venice was amazing as well. My father spoke about taking mum and me back on my seventeenth birthday. That would have been this year,” he says solemnly. I have no idea of what to say next, so instead, I grab hold of his hand and give it a tight squeeze. Gabe smiles at me appreciatively. “And you, where do you wish to go?”

  “France,” I say fondly.

  “Elaborate,” he requests.

  “France has so many beautiful things, especially art. Art is one of my favourite things to do, sketching, painting, moulding. France has such a strong connection to all the origins of art, but I guess I’d love to visit one of the art galleries. Claude Monet was born in Giverny, and I’d like to see that as well. France is home to some of the most famous artists in the world. It also had a major development in European art towards all the contemporary art in this century.” I screw up my nose, “Oh god, I totally just geeked out on you, didn’t I? Sorry, I just get so excited when I talk about France or art, but then I get ten times more excited when I talk about them both. Okay, I’ll shut up now,” I said shyly.

  He chuckles softly and lets go of my hand, pushing aside some hair that has fallen across his eye. “I like listening to you talking about your passions. It’s interesting.”