Rise of Xavia

by Tara Chau

  Whether it is saving or simply because she will not hear those words, I am grateful, even if I must shut out the questions and doubts that spring up. I find myself pacing as the minutes’ tick by, slower than eternity. Wait, wait for the signal. First, she will have to see Dianna and Lucien, and then she will have to secure her safety. She will send the sign and have to stall. I wait impatiently for the red light to flash on my device; wait for it to be set off by Ren, who has her own smaller version attached to the back of her head, where I had placed it on the way here.

  “A liking indeed,” Jess says, smiling to herself as well.

  Again, the questions and doubts surface. Do I not owe it to Helen to stay true? To not even have these doubts? Her face flashes inside my head, her waving flame hair, and her stunning green eyes, so clear inside my head. But so are those mesmerising ever-changing grey eyes.

  I’m horrified by the fact that I simply stare at the bright red light, caught in the net of my thoughts. Anne snatches the device from my hand and stares down at it before looking up at me in a rage.

  “Get your head in the game, Ty.” She hisses quietly, still aware of the fact that we’re above the Xavia den.

  Shaking my head, I banish those thoughts from my brain for another time, a time when our whole race does not depend on the next few actions of four teenagers.

  “She’s ready. Let’s go!” I answer, motioning towards the beeping signal.

  Anne rolls her eyes as if she too thinks my liking towards Tee-Ly-Ren has grown. We slip through the hole, landing on the stairs evenly and with minimal noise. Looking down into the gloom, I see Ren kneeling in front of Lucien, head bowed but mouth moving hastily. We must be swift.

  Anne nods her head, pointing toward Dianna, or rather Sin, who stands behind Lucien, looking down at Ren with disgust. Daring to turn around, I look to each of them, absorbing their proud, prepared expressions. Ready to fight, ready to get her back, ready to bring everyone home.

  So, I jump, soaring through the air before hitting the ground gracefully and rolling straight into the shadows, the rest doing the same. And I watch as Anne slowly stalks towards Di, weapon raised, sticking to the dark, to her blind spots, and as she takes a shuddering breath before leaping forward.

  * * *

  Dianna

  I scream, I seem to have screamed for eternity now, but the sound that escapes my mouth is swallowed by the black again. The Sin feel her. It can sense her approaching, can sense Anne walking through the shadows towards me, towards us. And it lets me feel it too. It lets me feel the joy that thrills through my body at the oncoming slaughter. I scream and scream, for her to go, to run! But as every time before, the sounds that do come out, are taken by the Sin and turned to sounds of glee. I watch as a familiar girl stares up at me, her naked body glazed over by the red, by disgust. But my focus is not on the girl in front of me, but the one that will be upon me in seconds will be dead sooner. I have nothing, nothing left to stop the Sin from killing my best friend, my family. Nothing, I am nothing.

  Yes, yes, that is right, mortal, you are nothing.

  Its biting voice slithers through my body, my mind, shoving me further back against the corner. I push, another scream of agony ripping from my throat as I try to push against the millions of icy hands that keep me down, keeps me submitted. And I scream again, as the slice of a whip sails through my own bare skin, as it cuts through bone and muscle. But every time it stops, every time the cracking stops, my skin heals, is forced to so that it can begin the torture again. For it is not my body that is really being broken, but my mind. Built-up again each hour just enough for me to know what is happening, to remember what life was before this, but only just. The ground shakes slightly under my feet as I feel Anne begin to run. I lash out, bellowing through the pain as I rise to a standing position, stumble but scream my anger and pain at the darkness lashing towards me. Throwing myself against the walls, I think of them as my mind, my gateway back into my body.

  This is my body.

  It shakes, my body shakes as I throw myself against its walls again and again. First my hand, then my arm, and then my head. I shriek as its defences lash out at me, but the fear is nothing compared to what will happen if I didn’t stop Anne. She lunges, so I give one last push, throwing my body to the side, missing the pommel of her sword by inches. I marvel at the feeling, the control, as I gaze down at my body, the ability to move myself stunning me. Anne runs to me, reaching forward. I bark a warning, backing away from her as a searing pain grabs hold of my insides.

  “Hey,” she whispers, edging as closer as she dares. “We came back for you,” she says, not dropping my gaze.

  A laugh slips through my lips, not my own, piercingly brutal and old. My back arches as the agony doubles, as I feel the walls begin to close over me again. The weight intensifies.

  “We came back for you.” She repeats.

  Part of my head screams a warning as I watch Lucien approach Anne, and I plead with my body to continue forward. To no avail. Nothing, I am nothing. And the Sin laughs in agreement, shutting me back into my cage mercilessly.

  * * *

  Annabelle

  I kneel in front of her, my eyes flowing with tears of fear and relief. She is here, I can see it, she’s here. I sift through my head, trying for a memory, something to bring her back. I stumble over one, grappling for a steady breath and a clear mind.

  “D-do you remember that day months ago when you and Ronnie came to my house? When we swam in the pool?” I let out another sob as a spark of slight recognition blooms in her scornful eyes. “It was so much fun, right?” I continue, “You-you told me that day that you would be here when I need you, you said that you always will be, do you remember that?” I ask cautiously.

  My shoulders drop with relief as I see her incline her head, shallow enough that I question it, but enough for a wave of pain to shake her body, making me wince.

  “Di, I need you.”

  A beat of silence, and then, “She’s not coming back.”

  The cold sound that comes from her mouth is the bane of the Protectors’ very existence. It slithers its way up my skin, and the death that coaxes fear from my pores leaves a trail of blackness.

  “We’ll see about that,” I whisper, fighting the rising weight that has appeared from the black and stand.

  “And we’ll fight until she does.” Ty walks to my side, looking to Dianna as well, his eyes slipping only once to the kneeling, unclothed Tee-Ly-Ren.

  Sensing the air behind me shift, I look to see Hayden and Jess standing as a barrier between Ty, Lucien and me, not an ounce of fear or regret visible. I see Ren rising slowly from the corner of my eye, hissing in pain as I notice the new red mark across her cheek. She growls at one of the vamps as he stalks towards her and shoves him back into another as she steadies herself and stumbles towards us. Ren refuses to remove her eyes from Dianna as she takes her place beside Ty and doesn’t bother to acknowledge Lucien.

  “Make this easy,” I speak.

  “And go to hell.” Ty finishes.

  It laughs, icy as the land it had slithered out of. My eyes search hers desperately, looking for any sign of the girl I’d grown to love like a sister. Instead, I only see her once rosy pupils, glossed with a bloody red, with hate, and deep down, with fear.

  “That’s really cute,” it says, pointing between the two of us, “the way you two finish each other’s sentences.”

  “Well, unlike them,” Ren growls through grinding teeth, “I don’t need to tell you to go to hell. I’ll simply take you there myself.”

  “Naïve Lycan,” It spits, no longer any humour in Dianna’s once calm, calculative face, “I came from hell. I’m not going back.”

  They both jump, Ren, shifting into a wolf in mid-air, and Sin with an unhuman grin. I shout out as their two bodies collide and chaos erupts. Shouts of warning come from behind; I duck just in time as another body flies over the top of me, just skimming my h
ead, Lucien landing in front of me gracefully.

  “Help Ren.” I bark, not bothering to see Ty nod and run towards the two sprawling demons.

  In a place somewhere distant, I know that Jess and Hayden are attempting to hold off the oncoming Xavia. Hayden a few metres in front of Jess, taking the brunt of it, and Jess taking out any that manage to slip past Hayden, the number becoming higher and higher as he tires.

  “We’ve done this before.” Lucien says lazily, “Multiple times. Are you really in the mood to do this again?”

  “To kick your ass?” I say, struggling to fill my voice with its usual confidence and swagger. “Always.”

  Gabriel

  Pounding, constant and loud. I assume it’s inside my head for long minutes, and I growl at myself for my weakness. Rolling over onto my other side, I refuse to acknowledge the pain digging into my side from the hard floor and the growing soreness of my body. Pounding, the relentless pounding has me sitting up with a groan and shaking the sleep from my head. I realise it comes from my door.

  I almost yell, but the sound barely escapes from my lips. As the final ounce of my drowsiness falls away, I remember how long it has been since I’ve spoken, four, five days? Rising from the floor, I skim my eyes over the unruffled bed. I’ve been unable to so much as sit on it. Alone, that is what I feel when my eyes settle on it for longer than a second. So instead, I have occupied a corner on the floor, a sheet and pillow the only comfort I allow myself.

  My feet on the floorboards a far-off feeling, and my legs shaking is just a nuisance as I make my way slowly to the door and tap twice. No. No, I will not come out, no, I am not okay, and no, I will not eat. But the message goes unnoticed or unidentified as the banging continues. Now that my ears adjust as well, and I realise the smooth, yet shrill voice is not Anne’s. It makes little difference. Slumping against the door, I wince as the vibrations shake my soar bones and muscles.

  “Get out!” Comes the vaguely familiar voice. “Come one. Come on!”

  She goes on like this for a couple more minutes, banging hard, surprisingly hard. Eventually, her voice becomes hoarse, and the banging dulls. I cannot find the energy to feel sorry or regretful; instead, I just rest my head on the wood and focus on breathing. Like the past few days, it has all been one step after the next. Take a breath, and then take another after that, a slow process until I barely think about it anymore, then I move onto the next thing. Get up, one step, one push, one step, one lunge to keep moving, to keep my body strong and movable. Once, I had sworn that this would never happen again, never again was I going to shut myself back in here. To be so naïve to really believe that it could be so… one breath. Another breath, one movement, then another, one more. Now my eyes are on the still quivering door, focus hazy. Another breath corrects that.

  “Please,” she begs, her voice breaking, “they need you.”

  My breath is stolen from me, and it takes too much to wrestle it back. Another shaky intake of air, but her voice flies through the cracks, and it halts. “They need you. They’ll die, Gabe Jones. Please.”

  Looking around the room, I take in the dark place. My bow and quiver lie discarded in the corner, and her dagger thrown angrily onto the bed, my coat limp and currently being used as my mat.

  “Gabe!” She screams, voice breaking.

  Slowly, too slowly, I walk over to my coat and sling it over my grey shirt, the bottom barely touching my black jeans. Travelling to the bed, I sling the dagger to my belt, the weight heavier than any, the bow and quiver taking up their usual place on my back. Walking back to the door, I close my eyes, unlock it, and take a steady breath before taking a striding step out into the hall.

  What hits me first is the light. Because we are underground, all rooms rely on light to be usable, except mine. The first few hours of darkness in my room had been torturous, but I lacked the energy to rise and turn the light on, so it remained off for the days that passed after that as well. Squinting, I cover my eyes with my hands, cursing the weakness of my pupils. As the hall sluggishly comes into focus again, so does the girl in front of me. Nyx. Her expression is consumed with horror and despair, her eyes wide with fear and her lips trembling. The Protector drilled into me, smashes down the wall I have built up these past few days, and forces sound to come from my underused throat.

  “What?” My voice comes out harsh, croaky, and husky. I wince to hear it. But the coldness is the one thing that has not changed since that day.

  “They left,” she breathes. “The other four left with a Lycan, they went to get her. They went to get Dianna.”

  Before she finishes her sentence, I am flying down the corridor and up the stairs, the moons glow lighting my way. Beneath the faint stars, I barely register the barking pain of my limbs, the soreness puncturing into my body from the nights and mornings spent on the ground. A blur of pitch-black approaches me from behind, keeping pace perfectly. I barely balk as my eyes focus on a Lycan, her dark eyes familiar. I’m surprised as a low laugh escapes my lips, free but still uncertain.

  The two of us slow our speed as the ally comes into sight, soundlessly halting just before the drop that will lead us into the den of the demons. The dark is welcoming and soothing to my eyes as we land effortlessly on the top of the stairs, Nyx’s huge maw opening to reveal long canines, her low growl enough to make me crack a slight grin. Turning my gaze to the bottom of the stairs, I stare, frozen with shock and horror, unsure where to look to first.

  To the far left, I can see Anne facing Lucien, making my heart skip a beat. My stomach drops further as my eyes focus on the centre of the room, where Dianna, pale as snow and eyes red as blood, crouching in front of Ty, and a Lycan, undoubtedly Ren, growls.

  Whispering into Nyx’s ear, I lay out the plan before jumping and landing in front of Ty, halting his attack. I see Nyx take up her place beside Jess, as I’d ordered, staying away from Lucien and Anne. I hear Ty’s sharp intake of breath and feel the tension become taunt as Ren backs up, leaving me to face her.

  I snarl, looking at Dianna’s destroyed pale body, I snarl, and she snarls right back.

  “Well, if it isn’t my boyfriend.” She teases, standing up straight while running her gaze over me.

  I instantly have the urge to plunge into a waterfall, just in an attempt to scrape the feeling of her lingering eyes off my body. I blink, blink again, as I see her eyes change colour and as she doubles over. In pain?

  Ty takes a step forward, so he stands by my side and watches her with sizable eyes. I wince but don’t allow my face to soften as a shriek echoes from her throat. Flinging my arm out, I stop Ty from going to her. I drop to my knees after her. I inwardly plead with her to look at me, sending a message that goes unnoticed.

  “Look at me.” I hiss, seeing the glow of her red eyes flashing on and off. I clamp down on the hope that has started to bloom. “Look. At. Me.”

  Her head snaps up violently, her neck cracking, the sound vibrating through my body, but she’s looking at me. My voice is no longer hoarse or croaky but cold and unyielding. She stares up at me, her eyes locking with mine as her hands grab at her chest, stomach, heart, two minds controlling one body. Two commands, one body. I see faint recognition in her eyes as they turn back to that beautiful rosy shade of pinks and browns, and it makes me lose a shuddering breath. It makes and unmakes me. The relief I feel only just outweighs the sting of her dull recognition, like she knows my face, but not me, not anymore.

  “Get up,” I say softly, not breaking eye contact as she jerks in pain. “Get up,” I repeat, inwardly begging, begging anyone to let her hear me, Angels if they will listen.

  I feel the air shift behind me, and I know Ty’s on the floor as well, and I know he is echoing my words, but right now, it’s just the two of us. So, I focus, allowing my wall to come crashing down, allowing her to see the emotion in my eyes, allowing myself to breathe as I speak again.

  “Get up.”

  * * *

  Dian
na

  The pain is a distant but overpowering touch, threatening to pull me into the sea of loss, to the side of unconsciousness. The agony starts in my neck, spreading as I force myself, using every inch of will I have stored away, to turn my head to him. As his solid, ember eyes bare into me, I feel it anchor me, and I imagine that his locked gaze is the only thing keeping me tied to life, so I’m not washed away in the dark sea. Another blazing wave of pain washes through me, the flaming heat attacking, again and again, while cries of sorrow and anger fly from my mouth, tearing my throat. But I keep my gaze on him, this boy who watches me so closely like there is an intimacy between us. Something only we share. So, I keep screaming, and pleading, and thrashing, constantly wrestling the demon, desperate for control, constantly fighting, always fighting.

  “Get up.” He whispers, something in his eyes stutters.

  I howl again, closing my lids for just a moment, holding it back, the light still burning holes into my skull. I open my eyes again, searching for him as I feel my control slipping, feel my will dying.

  “Get up.” He repeats.

  His eyes burn as mine do, but in a different way; his eyes burn with hope, with love. The demon inside me screeches, digging its magic into my gut, but the pain is simply a constant agony now, my body all too accustomed to it. His eyes fall, and I let out a mighty scream, the absence of his gaze taking its toll as I beg him back to me. When his eyes finally rise again, it is like there is… a whole new world, a whole new being, a new hope.

  An image in the back of my head flares, and I crawl towards it, weakly attempting to reach it before the Sin. His voice echoes again, this time softer, calmer, loving almost.

  “What is your name?” He asks.

  I open my mouth, ignoring the anguish as I search for the name, for my name. I feel myself fall further onto my forearms as I realise it’s… What is my name? But with my mouth still hanging open and my body still breaking down with every passing moment, what I whisper makes me sob.