Rise of Xavia

by Tara Chau

  “Welcome to Maline,” he says softly, looking at me closely, inspecting me for any signs of nausea, “Welcome to my home.”

  Looking around the hall, any previous queasiness vanishes as I take in the intricate carvings in the walls. Walking over to the carvings that decorate the right wall, I marvel at how big the carvings are, almost life-size, only to stumble back into Gabe as my eyes lock onto a figure in the carvings. Me.

  “What is this?” I demand, looking back at Gabe.

  Gabe hesitates, "Each of the four walls of this hall is adorned with the prophecy, four different outcomes for the four walls. They are a reminder and a warning for what can happen if we fail to bring that prophecy to life, or if we waste our one chance at survival too soon."

  “I-is that me?” I ask, pointing to the girl standing in the branches of a tree, gazing down at a giant field of soldiers.

  Her eyes seem to glimmer rose, even though no paint our colour has been added to the engraving. Her hair appears to be swaying in the wind, longer than mine. But the true tell is the ring that glows from her middle finger. It holds Gabe's family symbol on it but is speared through with the weapon that I currently wear at my side, my staff, the blades extended.

  “Yes,” Gabe nods, answering simply, slipping his hand into mine.

  Walking along the length of the wall, I stop. It's me, facing Helena. Only it's not Helena; it's Death. Some sort of power curls around her hands, black, the land around her feet dead. But it's not that which draws my attention; it's the slightly human look they've managed to capture in her stare as if she is tormented and fighting back for control. Looking at me, I start. There is power on my side as well, but not restricted to my hands. No, it swirls around my entire body, like a shield almost.

  As I approach the end of the wall, I see a field of dead bodies, Helena included in the dead, me standing over her with grave eyes. Three solid black figures stand behind me, each with a specific trait which I know belongs to Anne, Gabe, and Ty. They stand behind me, each of them with a ring exactly the same as mine. Two more figures which I somehow know are Jess and Hayden, are stationed across the way, kneeling over another downed body. This, this is me? This is what I was born to do? To slaughter or save? What is the difference here?

  Turning back to Gabe, he shakes his head, reading my eyes. Ignoring his warning, I look across the room to another wall, one with the less desired outcome. I’m about to run over when I hear Elizabeth’s voice, requesting that everyone sit. That snaps me back to reality, back to why I’m here in the first place.

  Gabe leads me over to the front row where Hayden and Jess are sitting before he joins Anne, Ty, Elizabeth, and the funeral director at the front, all of them behind the small coffin that Ronnie now sleeps in.

  The director starts to talk, but I don’t hear one word. It all goes in a wave of devastating emotions, I stand when told, sit when asked, and cry unsteadily. I think Gabe's parents are in this crowd somewhere, but I don't care right now, not about anything besides them. The whole time I have eyes locked on my three friends, two of which quietly sob. Gabe stands there, hands in front of him, clasped, quivering. He stands there shaking, eyes on the ground but darting between his and Anne's shoes. I can see through him, see his pain; it seems to be seeping out of his pores. Though it's not just agony that I can sense, but anger. Pure raging anger, I can see his restraint. He closes his eyes.

  But I have another thought, how can the director talk? How can he be the one to direct all this when he didn't even know her? She doesn't know how awful the world will be without her smile, without her laugh. I know that's exactly what they're thinking as well. As I gaze at Anne, then Ty, and then Gabe, painfully taking in each and every one of their faces, I know that I will do anything to keep them from feeling this again, do just about the worst thing to keep all of them from this pain. Finally, Ty comes to stand forward. He doesn't bother to rub away his tears, doesn't bother to trap his feelings away, to wipe them from his face. I force myself to focus, to listen to what he's about to say.

  “Ronnie,” he says, voice breaking, “There is no number of words to explain her, to do her justice.”

  I see Gabe nod, his eyes glazing over. Anne grabs his hand, squeezing it hard, reassuring, I wish I was up there with them.

  “Ron, she was my sister, and she was the best,” Ty starts again, “Every time I went out on patrol for the night, I would always come back hours later, and Ronnie would be awake and waiting for me in the kitchen, eating a cookie and gazing out the window. I always told her she shouldn’t wait for me; she should go to sleep. All of you knew Ronnie well enough to know her as a stubborn thing. So even when it was way past midnight, I would still come home to my sister, waiting. And now I’ll wait, I will wait patiently until I can go meet her again until we can all go home together. And I know she's waiting as well, but I also know that she'll throw some daggers at me if I arrive too early. I'll wait. Just like she did." Ty laughs through his tears, smiling grimly as he steps back into place.

  A loud sob escapes my lips, my voice cracks as I see Anne’s face fall, knowing it is her turn to speak. Slowly she steps forward, each of those steps banging in my heart.

  “She was my sister, just as much as I am a Protector, and I will never forget her. Someone very wise told me that as long as each of us remembers one small thing of her, then she'll never be lost." Anne looks to Gabe and attempts a small smile. It's wobbly and instantly crumbles as soon as she turns back to the crowd, "She was one life, but she was a million lights. She was my light, our light. For a little bit, all I'll see is black, but Ronnie, she'll guide me back, back to that blinding light. I know. I know this because even though her body is condemned to the dark, her soul is with Dyla, and she’s going to make that angel weep, make her see what she's done." Anne stops, surprised that she'd openly cursed the Angel in front of twenty-five other Protectors, and does not regret it. "I remember once, Ronnie saw my wounds after I came back from a mission. And she cried, she cried for me, not because she was afraid that she was going to do that soon, and she too would get hurt, no. I told her, "Everyone gets hurt, everyone will get scratches and cuts and bruises, but everyone will heal. Scratches and cuts heal into scars, and even those scars fade over time,” but she still cried. So, I continued, "These cuts are all physical. They are not the only wounds I wield. In my mind, I have many scratches.

  But I am strong, and you are stronger. Remember that, remember that you are strong, and no wound will hold you back." Then I showed her my already healed cuts, and she smiled. And from that day until the time she was knocked down, she was brave and strong. Mentally and physically, that is why she ran into the fight, to find her family, to find her home, and she was not afraid. I know that for certain. Gone, but never forgotten."

  Anne closes her eyes, standing there for a few moments, letting her words sink into each and every one of us. Her eyes snap open, finding mine instantly. She takes in my tear-stricken face, takes in my trembling body and my wobbly lip, my blood-shot eyes, and smiles, smiles through her pain, because Anne, Anne is strong. She walks back to her place beside Ty and Gabe, clutching her necklace, the one that holds the soul stone in it, the one Ty gifted to her.

  The three of them stand there for long minutes, only looking at Gabe once. We all wait in anticipation. Anne nudges Gabe’s arms. He opens his eyes and looks out at everyone, eyes catching mine. I give him an encouraging nod, urging him to make his speech, to show everyone his strength and love.

  Gabe takes a shuddering breath before walking over to the coffin, placing a shaking hand over the polished mahogany. “I don’t have an amazing speech prepared,” he says, still looking down at the closed lid, “I don’t know how I can explain to all of you how I feel. I don’t even know what I feel,” he admits, even though he speaks softly, his low voice is carried through the whole hall, reaching everyone's ears. Gabe's agony is obvious; his gaze slides from the coffin to his own hand before he speaks again, "She was
surely the best of us, the best of her generation, and she would have been great. We all know that. Just days ago, I spent all day with her. Her smile filled every part of my mind that morning, day, night, and even now. Yes, she was strong and brave, she was so much more than just that, but she was also just six. Ronnie was a girl, and for some twisted reason, they took her from us, Dyla allowed it." Gabe trembles, his chest rising and falling unsteadily. "So, every day from now on, I'll fight for her, for her memory, and for her blood. Because she lives through us, we must work to keep her here. The halls of England's Sanctuary will be painted with the story of a girl, age of six, who flew into a devastating battle to ensure her family would come out, to see for herself that they, we, were safe." Gabe's voice breaks as he hesitantly draws his hand back from the coffin, looking out at the hall. He steps back, re-joining the other two.

  The crowd stares up at the three teens, who are all locked hand in hand, marvelling at their love for this small girl. The three of them stare back. At some point through their speeches, Elizabeth has left, slipping out the door while everyone was focusing on the three of them. But as the director started to speak again, I slipped back into my calm sea of thoughts, where it makes it just bearable to breathe. Again, the funeral goes by in a wind - standing when told, sitting when asked, keeping my eyes on Anne, Ty, and Gabe.

  Eventually, when the funeral ends, everyone stands from their seats and walks quietly and sombrely back through the blinding doorway, back to England. As if that specific information washed straight over my head, I continue to sit, gazing at the coffin that will sit there until people come to bring it to a huge temple that every Protector is buried in. Even Anne, Ty, and Gabe have left, either too wrapped up in their sorrow to notice I wasn't coming or had purposefully left me alone for a little longer. I don’t care.

  This is too much, Lucien is still out there, that demon, and the Xavia, and now I have that prophecy to think about. A phantom touch taps at my shoulder, which I ignore, still watching the coffin, as if my mind thinks Ronnie will lift the lid and hop out, waking from a small nap. The touch comes again, more instant. I turn around to find that it's Gabe. He reaches out to grab my hand, standing me up. Gabe leads me through the portal, letting me lean on him as that weight crashes down on me again before we emerge back in the England Sanctuary. We walked silently back to our rooms, each of us in our own mind space. I followed Gabe into his room. He gives me a weak smile before walking into the bathroom. Looking around, my gaze falls upon my staff. Next to it lies a small dagger. Ronnie's.

  White-hot rage flows through me, wiping away any sanity left in my head. It overtakes my sorrow, my pain, my loss, and replaces it with something scolding hot, something dangerous. He'll die, today Lucien will die. For what he's done, for what he will do, and for who he has become. Taking up my coat, I throw it over myself, strapping my staff to my side. Gabe's dagger that he gave me, already strapped to the inside of my coat, makes me halt. Turning back to the bathroom, I reach out with my mind, imagining my power jamming the door handle, locking him in.

  I swiftly walk over to his drawer and take out a sword which I find a scabbard for, and string it across my back, hiding smaller flat silver daggers in my boots, belt, and pockets, five in all. Then I glance over my shoulder back to Ronnie's own dagger, for her, for Ronnie. Pocketing her dagger quickly and carefully, my head whips up as I hear Gabe trying to open the door. Walking over to it, I lay one hand on it, holding the door still, silencing the racket.

  “What are you doing?” Gabe barks, snapping out of his still calm.

  “The next right thing,” I quote.

  “No,” Gabe pleads, "No, stop. He'll kill you, or worse, he'll use you. This is what he wants, Di. He wants you to come to him!” Gabe screams, pounding on the door.

  “Then I guess Christmas came early for him,” I mumble. “I’m going to kill him, Gabe. If it goes wrong, remember what I told you,” I whisper, making sure that he hears me before leaving, striding out the door, and locking that one too.

  Running up and out the back way, I dash into the car park, my senses one nano-second too late in alerting me before two figures crash into me. I’m so desperate for escape that I don’t even take in who is trying to hold me back. One of them grapples for my arms, pinning them behind my back as the other person grasps my face, forcing me to look at them. Even as my eyes lock with Anne’s, I don’t really see her, I don’t see Jess or Hayden as they ready themselves to pounce if needed, and I don’t even take in Ty, whose grip is painful against my wrists. I don’t see any of them. All I see is red, blinding red that serges through my blood, boiling it till it feels like liquid fire in my veins. I roar, a loud, furious bellow as I make my power rip Ty's grip off me, sending them both back into Jess and Hayden. The four of them rise to make a wall in front of me, each of their eyes pleading.

  “Get out of my way,” I seethe.

  “What are you doing?” Anne demands.

  “I am going to kill that psychotic bastard,” I growl.

  “All you’re going to do is get yourself killed,” Ty growls back, “You really think that this is the right thing to do? Right now? Without no plan whatsoever?”

  "I don't need a plan to drive my blade through his heart. I don't need anything but my weapon and myself to do that."

  “You’re spiralling, going down,” Jess breaths, “Do you see it?”

  Somewhere in the back of my mind, I can. I can see through the red and the fire to my friends, but that is somewhere too far away for me to reach. Surveying them all closely, I take in every detail, everything they carry and don't carry. No weapons besides Hayden's axe. I can take them. Ty's eyes widen as he realises what's happening.

  That ancient power that I had felt days ago resurfaces, expanding through me, attempting to fight the fire consuming my mind and body. I cringe as it starts to battle the fire inside me, starts beating it down to a low blaze. Somehow, it forces a lost memory from the back of my mind, something I had quickly forgotten the moment it happened.

  "Do not let her stray from her path; help and guide her. Train and teach her, or she will become worse than our worst nightmare."

  “Come on, Di. Fight,” Anne urges.

  "Look at us; we're your friends,” Jess says, eyes big.

  “We’ll find a way to get Lucien together. Soon,” Ty promises, and with that fierce hatred burning in his eyes, I believe him.

  Looking at each of my friends, I desperately try pushing against the burning to see. To look. As that unexplained, foreign, ancient energy courses through me, it gives one last heave, pushing out the unwanted red, not even giving a little as it attempts to push back one last time. Suddenly, as the fire leaves my veins, so does my strength. My knees buckle, and I fall to the ground, shaking. All four of them rush towards me, Anne falling to her knees in front of me.

  “I-I don’t know what happened,” I stutter. “What happened?”

  “You had an outbreak of negative emotions. It’s the key to letting out that other part of you, the wicked part,” Ty explains.

  "I-but I always get angry. This has never happened,” I say, looking down at my trembling hands.

  “This was on another level; we could see it,” Jess imputes.

  “W-what?” I ask, finally raising my head to look at them all.

  “Your eyes,” Anne says hesitantly, “they were glowing red.”

  Well, I guess that explains a lot.

  “You have to get a grip, Di,” Hayden says strictly.

  I only nod. I know that.

  I-I was going to fight them. I would have been willing to hurt them just to get to Lucien. That red, that fire, it would have made me do things as bad as Lucien. And I wanted to; I wanted to kill him so badly that I was willing to do anything, become anything. My body starts to shake harder, even as my strength starts to seep back into me. The horror of it all sinks in, leaving me quaking.

  "Come on, get up. We have a lot to do." Ty hauls me t
o my feet, steadying me for a moment as I wait for my strength to return.

  The four of them walk back into the Sanctuary. I follow slowly, debating whether or not I want to risk going back to Gabe's room.

  I politely excuse myself from their company, assuring them that I'm not going to try to kill Lucien the moment they turn away. As I turned down the hall and started walking towards my room, their protest halt, replaced by silent wishes of luck. I guess that answers my question, straight to my own room then. Call me a coward.

  But as I quietly try to slip through my bedroom door, Gabe's barefoot stamps down into place, halting the door before I can close it. My shoulders slump as I drag myself over to sit on the bed, watching Gabe as he closes the door. Then when he turns to me, I feel my face drain of colour. If I saw red, then Gabe must be seeing deep crimson blood. His expression of pure rage has me shoving my back up against the bed head, has my breathing quicken to dangerous levels. As he paces my room, trying to calm himself down, I scramble for something to say, something not one-inch infuriating; instead, what comes out of my mouth is the opposite of not infuriating, "You take your phone into the toilet with you?" Oops.

  Gabe's eyes snap to my face, taking me all in before he goes back to pacing, his eyes a wrathful black. I shift to sitting cross-legged, watching him carefully.

  “You-” he starts before shaking his head and continuing his pacing.

  Minutes pass, and I see his anger dull to a low hum, yet he still continues walking.

  “You’re going to wear marks into my floor if you keep pacing like that,” I hiss.

  Gabe looks at me then, and I instantly regret talking. "You…how stupid…do you know how stupid that was? You're so lucky I call those four. Are you so damned desperate to kill Lucien that you would risk running straight into his open arms?" Gabe fumes, seeming to forget all his hard work on trying to calm down. Instead, he's now working himself up again. I let him babble, "Stupid, so stupid. That was the most rutting stupid thing I've seen you do!"