Rise of Xavia

by Tara Chau

  I laugh self-consciously and pull up both legs under my chin, wrapping my arms around them. “Alright, next question. What would you be if you weren’t a fighter?”

  He smiles sweetly and looks at me with sad eyes. “I was born to be a fighter Di. I had no say in the matter of whether I wanted to be one or not. I could have never been anything else.”

  “I know, and it is something that I would change if it were up to me,” I admit softly. “But it’s not a crime to dream, is it?”

  Gabe shakes his head slowly before speaking. “When I was three, I wanted to be a firefighter and help people who needed to be helped. I always loved the idea of wearing a bright red suit with a fluoro yellow helmet. I guess the need to serve will always be in me.”

  “Aw, I can totally imagine baby Gabe walking around with a huge red hoodie on, waddling around the backyard with a fake garden hose that kids use, pretending to be a mighty firefighter!” I tease.

  Gabe laughs genuinely and looks at me with content. “No, I was way too mature to be doing that. It would probably have been a red hoodie with black gumboots, and it would have been a real hose that adults use. Baby Gabe would not accept being a rip off firefighter.”

  We both burst out laughing, and I cover my mouth and his, trying not to make so much noise, remembering that these are only curtains and not real walls. Anybody could be listening or trying to sleep. Gabe grabs hold of my wrist and pulls it gently away from his mouth.

  “What are you doing?” he whispers, barely keeping back a laugh.

  “Everyone can hear us,” I hiss. “What if people are trying to sleep?”

  Gabe looks at me and resumes his laughing. I wait a solid minute for him to stop, and when he does, it’s because he’s wincing in pain. I look at him with a smug look.

  “Serves you right for laughing at me and for no reason.”

  He looks at me sceptically and then breaks into a big smile. “These curtains have been printed with a Sterling. If you look closely, you’ll be able to make out a faint signum on the top left-hand corner of the curtain. It keeps all the sound within the same area. Basically, the room made from these flimsy curtains is soundproof. Meaning, we can hear everything from the outside, but they can’t hear anything from the inside.” he explains as he points.

  There, shimmering faintly, is a signum about the size of my palm, looking like a diamond with two lines coming from each corner, meeting in the middle and then travelling down to the bottom.

  “Damn,” I mutter.

  “You still have a lot to learn, young padawan,” he says in a mock wise voice.

  “What?” I ask, confused. That makes no sense.

  “Please tell me you know what Star Wars is.” He begs, eyes wide.

  “Of course, I know what Star Wars is,” I defend.

  “Oh, thank god,” he breathes.

  “Doesn’t mean that I have watched it,” I finish.

  “My God, I cannot be friends with someone who hasn’t watched Star Wars,” he decides. “I know what we are going to do today. You are going to go into my room, get my laptop and bring it back here so we can both watch a marathon of all the Star Wars movies.”

  “But there are like four of them!” I whine.

  “Twelve, actually. And they’re classics. Some of them date back to 1977! They’re amazing.” he says excitedly.

  “Stop,” I plead in a baby voice.

  “Hey, you got to geek out about art, I get to geek out about Star Wars,” he defends.

  “But when I geek out about art, it makes me sound smart,” I counter.

  “Just get up and fetch the laptop. Do you have anything better to do?” he asks smartly.

  “No,” I mumble grumpily.

  “Then get up!” he yells encouragingly.

  Reluctantly, I stand up, giving him the worst look I can muster and stomp out of his makeshift room.

  Two movies later, I am bored as hell as well, checking the time every two minutes. Gabe moved over to make space for me on the bed. With me sitting next to him and the laptop between us. The Star Wars marathon started. The more I watch, the more uninterested I became. I try switching off the movie to talk to him a few times, but somehow it ends up being played again.

  I look next to me at Gabe. He’s smiling to himself as he watches intently at the screen. “Gabe?” I whisper.

  “Shhhh, you’re missing the best part!” he hisses.

  “That’s what you said the last time I tried to speak,” I resist.

  “Yeah, well, the whole movie is the best part,” he says, still watching the laptop intently.

  I groan loud and long. Gabe looks at me with an expression that reads something along the lines of, you’re pissing me off, and, what do you want?

  “It’s so boring,” I complain.

  Gabe looks at me with a weird face, then pauses the movie and turns back to face me. “What do you mean? This is an original movie. They’re famous and one of my favourite series.”

  “They’re so bloody predictable,” I push.

  “How?”

  “Obviously, Anakin Skywalker is going to become Darth Vader. Luke Skywalker is going to freak out when he finds out that Darth Vader is his father. Predictable.” I repeat.

  “How the hell could you have known that?” he asks, baffled.

  I shrug and smile innocently. “Maybe information about Star Wars was passed down from Dyla as well.”

  “Reeds, you really are a pain, aren’t you?” he says, trying to hold back a grin.

  “Chip, you only get one life. You gotta live it to its best, and I could be doing so many other things than watching this.” Then I stop and realise. “Well, you people get one life. This would be my second.”

  Gabe chuckles softly while rubbing his hands together. “Technically, you aren’t Dyla. She just chose a little baby and passed down some special abilities to you.”

  “Yeah, I guess that’s right. But seriously, I should have come with a guidebook.” I sigh. “Gabe, if I watch the rest of these Star Wars movies with you, then you have to watch Lala Land with me.”

  “What is that? It sounds like a horror show,” he asks with a disgusted expression.

  “No, it’s a movie with singing and dancing,” I explain.

  “Over my dead body,” he spits.

  “What is wrong with singing and dancing? Don’t you like musicals?”

  “No,” he answers.

  “Well, I’m going to change that. By the end of this year, you are going to be begging me to come watch the next musical that is released in the cinemas.” I declare.

  He looks at me and then grins defiantly. “Never.”

  I punch him hard on the shoulder. He whines and glares at me. “Don’t say that. And anyway, you aren’t really good at keeping your promises.”

  “What do you mean?” he asks.

  “Well, when I asked you not to leave me while I was getting my signum applied, you said “never”. And then when Ty came in, you did leave.” I point out calmly.

  “I was on the other side of the door, plus it was only for three minutes,” he defends. Gabe had gone a shade lighter at the recall of the past event.

  “Well, when you’re getting a tattoo burned into your wrist, it doesn’t feel like three minutes,” I glare.

  “I’m sorry, alright? I had to get Ty out.”

  “I know,” I say. “But at that point, I really needed you to stay with me.”

  Gabe shuts down the laptop and puts it on the bedside table next to him before turning back to me. “Lucien, he saw your bandage. How?” he says, changing the subject.

  I look at him, deciding whether to take the bait or to take us back to our previous conversation.

  “I don’t know. I’ve known Lucien’s family for so long. They’re nice, but not the help people in need type of people. So, they can’t be long lost, Protectors.”

  “That still doesn’t explain how he saw it,” h
e says with a troubled look.

  “I know. Maybe it was a faulty bandage?” I input.

  “Yeah, maybe. If Lucien becomes a problem, we can deal with him then. For the meantime, we just need to keep a close eye on him. From a distance,” he adds.

  Gabe attempts to swivel his body to face me fully. He winces from pain and gives up, sinking back into his pillow.

  “Are you hurting?” I ask anxiously.

  “Well, you know, I was stabbed through the stomach, so yeah, I’m freaking hurting.” he snaps.

  “Gabe, are you having one or your special mood swings again?” I ask cautiously, shifting so I’m slightly farther away from him and perched at the edge of the bed.

  “I-I really need to get this thing off. Damn vampires.” Gabe mutters along with an apologetic look.

  “It’s alright. I can go with Anne and Ty to see if we can talk to the vamps about a fix,” I say.

  “No.” he barks. I look at him patiently. It’s not Gabe’s fault that he can’t control his emotions. “No,” he says more calmly.

  “Alright,” I breathe. “Why did the vampires have such an interest in you?”

  Gabe looks at me with large eyes. His face is calm, but I can tell that a million things are going on behind those ember eyes of his.

  “They wanted me to pass on a message to Melisa Jones,” he says reluctantly.

  “Your mother?” I ask, bewildered.

  “Yeah. One of the rules of being a Protector is ‘never share any personal information with your opponent.’ I was so scraped that night that I told them to stay away from my mum. Huge mistake.”

  “What happened?” I ask.

  “They pounced on me and knocked me out. When I woke up, I was chained to a swing set in an abandoned playground at night. They must have given me the Skile while I was unconscious. They tried questioning me, but the Skile was only starting to take effect, so it didn’t work. When they turned around, I tried escaping and was promptly knocked out, again,” he says regretfully, slight embarrassment tinging his tone.

  “Woah, you really did spend eighty percent of the time out cold,” I say.

  “Yep. When I refused to take them to the Sanctuary, they decided to dispose of me. I escaped while they were preparing and ran. They then found me about ten minutes later and told me the message. I refused to pass it on and was efficiently stabbed. Then you found me.”

  I nod, taking all the information in. “What was the message?”

  Gabe stares at me for a moment, hesitating before he continues. “The Xavia has risen,” he says stiffly.

  “What?” I stammer.

  “I don’t know. My parents will be here tomorrow morning. I’ll ask my mum about it then.

  “Okay, I guess I won’t come in the morning then,” I say. “Even though you’re back, it doesn’t mean I can stop training.”

  “No, come. I wouldn’t want you to miss out on a training session. And…I was wondering if you would come and speak to my parents with me. You know, in case I leave something out.” he says nervously.

  “What? Gabriel Jones, the golden boy, forgetting something important? What is happening to you?”

  Gabe shoots his arm out and wraps it around my neck, pulling me in to mess up my hair. I squeal like a little girl and crawl hastily to the end of the bed. I pout and widen my eyes, trying to make him feel guilty. Gabe laughs his buttercup laugh, happy and bright. It makes me laugh. I try desperately to reign in my smile and ending up getting a wobbly bottom lip instead, which makes him laugh harder.

  “Come here, Di,” he speaks like he is talking to a two-year-old. “Don’t cry, I’m sorry that I messed up your hair.” he holds out both arms towards me, and I slowly crawl back and sit next to him.

  I place my head on his shoulder and close my eyes. I can feel the pressure from his own head on mine. We sit here quietly, wishing that I could capture this moment and have it on a loop, playing repeatedly in my mind. I sigh softly, breathing him in. Gabe smells of chestnut and cinnamon, making me immediately think of Christmas cookies. He chuckles softly, and I lift my head to meet his eyes.

  “What’s so funny?” I ask with a smile.

  “Nothing. It’s just….”

  “Spit it out,” I demand encouragingly.

  “Before, I was all about taking tests and training to be the best. Then you popped into my life, and it became twice as good. You are…”

  “Inevitable?” I finish, referring to a marvel movie quote.

  “Special,” he corrects.

  “In a good way or a bad way?” I ask, amused.

  “In an amazing way,” he says quietly.

  I laugh softly and look into his dark eyes. “Awfully confident, aren’t you?” I ask bashfully.

  Did Gabe just say that I was amazing? My heart is beating against my chest, and with me being this close to Gabe, I am afraid that he will notice, but he looks too uncomfortable to focus on that. I sigh, chuckling slightly as well. “I need to get home. Dad will be back in half an hour. It’s already five-thirty.”

  “Do me a favour and get Anne to walk you home?” he asks.

  “It’s only a twenty-minute walk. I’ll be fine. I can run,” I protest.

  “Take Anne, Di,” he says seriously.

  I get up slowly, untangling myself from the sheets and hop off the bed, smiling shortly at Gabe. “Gabe, don’t worry.”

  I absently reach across the bed to brush a fallen piece of hair from his eye. He frowns at me and grabs hold of my hand.

  “I’m serious, take Anne,” he says, looking at me sternly.

  I nod slowly, and Gabe lets go of my hand.

  “I’ll call Anne when I leave. Go to sleep Gabe. You need it.” I say soothingly.

  “Promise that you will, and don’t walk home alone,” he says stiffly.

  “I promise,” I assure.

  Gabe rests his head against the headboard and looks at me with a small smile, satisfied. “My parents won’t be here until nine in the morning. You’ll have to stop by after school,” he says tiredly.

  “Okay, I’ll still come in the early morning though, I’ll be training.”

  “Good night, Di.”

  “Good night, Gabe.”

  The Sanctuary is quiet. Only the sounds of hushed voices and the click-clack of keyboards can be heard. I walk slowly to the training hall, deciding to do the jump today. The twenty-metre jump, to be exact. I walk through the doors and place down my school bag in the corner, steadying my increasing breaths. Making my way over to the changing rooms, I switch my clothes and set my alarm for eight am to ensure I don’t go overtime. Exiting, I approach the beam, bracing myself for the climb. It’s steep, and there isn’t much foot space which makes it difficult to proceed.

  By the time I’m at the halfway point, my arms were screaming in protest. Sweat drips down my temple and burns my eyes, making me cringe as I grip the post harder, causing my fingers to go red and white. I focus on the next piece of wood I will use to haul myself up, one after another, not looking past the one in front of me. A groan escapes my lips as I use the last of my upper body strength to pull myself onto the board at twenty metres. I’m panting heavily, my chest rising and falling heavily.

  Trying to balance on the board whilst catching my breath proves to be trickier than I’d originally thought. It looks a lot higher from up here. The few people down the bottom are small ants from this height. I close my eyes and work on steadying my breath, counting to three and back down. The height messes with my eyes, and the floor seems to move closer and further away, making me nauseous. Once my mind stops spinning, I take an unsteady step towards the edge. An unwanted image pops into my mind; the whole scene of how the man fell from here, his scream so piercing I had to look away. It takes another long minute for me to gather up my strength to approach the edge again, ready to jump off. Closing my eyes and taking a deep breath, I step off…

  The sensation of falling is overwh
elming. That sinking feeling in my stomach hits me like a punch, clenching my teeth together, so I don’t scream. I feel my whole-body clench. Some part of my mind tells me to relax, to let the fall soothe me instead of making me panic. I try to focus on the cool air rushing in my face, but instead, it just reminds me of how fast I’m travelling. I open my eyes to find the ground hastily forthcoming. My breath quickens even though I’m trying desperately to calm it. Remembering something vital, I pull my legs together and tuck my chin to my chest. The impact is agonising. The pain works its way up my legs and through my entire body in microseconds. I roll forwards, trying to take some of the impact of my legs and come to a landing on my butt. I cringe and throw my head back, moaning softly. My eyes water, and my legs throb uncontrollably. On the upside, nothing is broken. I just might be limping for a few days.

  Gathering up strength, I attempt to stand, but I wince and collapse back onto the mat immediately. Trying again, I use my arms to prop myself up. This time I manage to stumble up and lean against the wall. I stagger to the closest chair and sit down shakily. I breathe in and out, in and out. Maybe I’ll wait till someone can teach me how to land, instead of free-falling. I sit here till my alarm sounds, then I get up unsteadily and limp slowly to the changing room so I can dress into my school clothes. I emerge in a cream t-shirt and a denim skirt.

  Picking up my bag on the way, I gradually walk into the hall and towards the exit. An idea occurs to me, and I turn around to walk back in the other direction towards the infirmary. I creep down the hall and through the open door, coming to a stop at the curtain marked Jones.

  I slowly, quietly, draw back the curtain and slip through. When I turn around, I smile. Gabe is asleep on his back. His expression is relaxed. Hair messed, lips slightly parted. I walk over to the chair beside his bed and gratefully sit, looking at the rise and fall of his chest. The calm and lightness of his face make me smile softly. To see him without a worried or broken face, to see him just as himself, is relieving.

  Gabe’s face suddenly contorts, and he tosses slightly, moaning quietly. I panic for a moment before I see a pale blue glow shining onto his white pillowcase and remember the events of yesterday. The Skile must have hit him in his sleep, making him scared of his own dreams. I stand up and limp to his side, brushing away some hair that had fallen onto his face.