by T. Rudacille
***
I found Caspar waiting for me on my front porch.
“Word travels quickly around here, Ms. Olivier. I heard that you were asking for me, so I figured I would save you the trouble of looking.”
My shock at seeing him was temporary and never showed on my face. I walked forward, leaned my back against the wooden railing of my porch, and studied him. He certainly did look like his father, and therefore, he was exceedingly good-looking. The mischievous glint in the eye and the equally mischievous grin were shared traits between father and son, as well. In Caspar, there was certainly malice, but he was young and had not honed his skills enough to wield that malice with any proficiency. His father was an ace at embodying ice and malevolence subtly; that is why so many were terrified of him. But Caspar, still so young, was not subtle, so he was not intimidating; I felt nothing but a strengthened desire to send him away still.
“How kind of you.” I said, “I am sure that you are savvy enough that you know what I want from you.”
“Do you want to make a deal? That is what most want from me.”
Intrigue. It took me immediately and forcefully.
“You are a Dionysian.”
“I am. That makes me a bastard.”
“If all your father says is true, then yes, at least in terms of the actions your power might lead you to take, you are a bastard. But I assume you do not mean ‘bastard’ in that way.”
“No, I mean that I am his bastard. My brother is a perfect little Ares, just like Mother. My father loathes what I am, even though it was his stock that made it happen. But this is not about me. Daddy does not matter.”
“No, he does not. Not to me, anyway. I certainly will not trouble myself over your troubles. I do apologize for that, but I am not a psychotherapist. My main concern is the influence you have had on Violet. Now, I went to see Dr. Miletus, and she begged me not to confront you on this. Well, she never said your name, but her thoughts were very, very loud. They were screaming, actually. Now, this woman is known worldwide as a hellish bitch on wheels… Oh, I am sorry, that is an Earthean expression meaning…”
“I can infer.”
“Well, good. Dr. Miletus is known worldwide for being an instructor who kicks her students into shape by holding them to the highest standards possible. Her medical expertise is unrivaled, and that is why she is the most sought after medical profession in Adam’s circles on this whole planet. Because of all of that, she is known as a bitch. Our sexism and your sexism are quite the same. She and my sister have never gotten along, partly because my sister, like so many her age, believes she knows everything there is to know already and that her harsh life experiences excuse her laziness and cheekiness, amongst so many other things. She has no respect for any authority except for James’s and mine, but that is because I am her sister, he was my boyfriend, and we are her de facto parents. She fears disappointing us. Now, most of Dr. Miletus’s young interns spend their days crying over how harsh she is, but I have seen her work, and while it is harsh what she does, it is a necessary harshness.”
“Says the woman who bitched from here to Del Mare about the harshness of our training program.”
“Yes, Caspar, your lessons on Purissimissian geography were what I was protesting.” I said, and I rolled my eyes.
He smiled, but his eyes were blazing.
“I did protest all that those recruits were forced to suffer. I did protest, because several parents came to me—your people and my people—and asked me to put an end to it, so an end to it did I put.”
“Yes, because you are such a civil servant these days, Brynna Olivier.”
“I am. You may not believe it, but this is now my role. It was thrust upon me, and alas, I have accepted it. Caspar, from here on out, I request that you stay away from my sister.”
“And I deny your request. Moreover, so will she.”
“No.” I said, and I smiled, shaking my head. “Her mind repeated her apologies, shouted her regrets, and begged me to decipher what it was that needed apology, what is was that had caused such regret. She did not speak a word of what had happened, but her heart told me that it was Dr. Miletus. So, I paid her a visit.”
And I had. Because I was a concerned sister/de facto parent, I snooped into Violet’s heart and mind while she was awake and found nothing. Constructing a wall and keeping it fortified against my entry was a skill she could not have developed overnight, so I had known that whatever it was she had done, she thought it so shameful that she was keeping me out; only if her worst fear was for the secret to be discovered could I not ferret it out without touching her. At night, I had read her heart and mind again, and it was then I discovered that after she had been expelled from the Medical Program, she had allowed Caspar to talk her into his scheme. I could not see the scheme in completion, so I had paid a visit to Dr. Miletus’s office.
“I will not accept her back just because you are here, Ms. Olivier. I respect you very much. I respect what you have done so far for this village, but I cannot take her back.”
That was how she had prefaced our entire conversation. No pleasantries had even been exchanged before those words had left her mouth. Now, I had met Dr. Miletus many, many times, because she also served on the Council. When that woman spoke, her blue eyes bore into yours so deeply that prolonged eye contact with her was nearly impossible. Her tone was always firm, always resolute. She always knew exactly what she wanted, and without any effort, it seemed, she could convince her audience that they wanted it, too. Her voice always remained level, her body always remained upright, and her eyes were always so focused. She had not one tell; she did not shake her leg, she did not tap or bite her fingernails, she did not twirl a quill, nothing. Her entire being was set in stone, and it was truly fascinating. No other man or woman could have done her job, because no other man or woman had such a steely, assured disposition that lacked all pretense.
But when she said those words to me, her eyes were trained on the desk. There were papers in her hand, and ever so slightly, they were rattling. Her gaze fell to them, and she tried to pretend like she was absorbed in the words on the page, but her eyes were not moving; she was not reading them.
“That is not why I came here today.” I had said calmly, “I believe you were entirely justified in your expulsion of Violet. You have your standards, and those standards have prepared the next generation of doctors for the trials they will face for two centuries now. Violet did not meet those standards. When Violet first started, she had your same standards, and she wanted your approval. But due to her youth, her laziness, and various unfortunate influences, she began to adopt lower standards, ones better suited to a government leech, some trust-fund babies, or some millenials. Her entitlement and arrogance are as disturbing to me as they are to you, Dr. Miletus, and believe me, we have had many disagreements over this very topic.”
She nodded, but her eyes were downcast. The silence that fell between us did not prickle my skin or provoke my fight or flight reflex. I was perfectly alright waiting patiently for her to speak.
“She is a very good girl.” She said finally, “She is very gifted. Exceedingly bright. That must run in your blood. But I promised myself after…” She stopped, and her now severely trembling hand came up to run through her long, dark red, almost maroon hair. With both hands, she brushed that mass of hair back, twirled it around and around to the ends, spun it several times in a circle as though making a web, and stuck three thick pins through it to keep it firmly rooted at the base of her skull.
“I promised myself after what happened that I would not relent. I would not take her back, despite…” She stopped again, “I will not discuss this with you, Ms. Olivier.”
“Please discuss it with me, Dr. Miletus.”
“I know not what you will do.”
“I will tell you now that nothing will come of it except that I will confront Violet. Violet will come to you, if you will allow her, and offer you her apologies, which I know wil
l more than likely be useless…”
“No.” She stopped, shook her head, her eyes closing for one second. “She was not herself. I assume he gave her Devil’s Touch, because she was very open to his influence. Ms. Olivier, my wife and I swore to never speak of this again. Our husband is Herculian, and you know as well as any their protective rage. He would kill the King’s son if he found out about this, and Caspar Elohimson is the King’s son. He is known far and wide for his ability to terrorize, and it just so happens that I was his newest victim. I am one of many. I am not special. It does not matter. But before, it was only him, and now, he is dragging your poor sister into this.” She stopped, and her shaking hand came up to wipe at her eyes.
“Violet is so bright.” She continued, “She is so talented. She has such a passion for this work. It truly hurts me to see the path she has taken. I want very much for you to help her find that path again. So, I will tell you what occurred, because I am sure that she does not remember. In her mind and heart, did you see anything clear?”
“No.”
“That is not surprising. Devil’s Touch erases memories but leaves traces upon the mind of what occurred. Rather, it leaves traces upon the heart.”
“Yes. She is withdrawn now. There is something heavy hanging over her. James and I have both been trying to coax out of her what is wrong, but she will not tell us anything. Sometimes, she tells him and me that she is just sad that he is no longer at home, and I know that that truly plays a factor, but it is especially playing a factor now because she wants to tell him what happened. For whatever reason, she wants to tell James and not me. And that is fine; that is good. I get the sense that he is aware of some situation of which I am not aware. So, it is alright if she wishes to confide in him and not me. I assumed that she had had sex with Caspar and was afraid of her boyfriend finding out. But when I saw you in her mind, I knew that something more had occurred.”
She nodded, but she was silent again for a long time.
“Poor child.” She said, “He is very persuasive. He is charming and handsome, and he showed such great interest in her. She is very young, and she accepted his advances as a result. Her instincts are not honed to absolute astuteness yet, or else she would have rejected him. When they came here, I assumed that he would threaten me, but when I saw the look in his eyes, I knew that it would be more. He is young, and I am very old, at least in literal years, and yet he overpowered me easily. I… I…”
Her hands were wiping at her eyes, and this time, moisture came away on her fingertips.
“Ms. Olivier, may I ask you to just look into my mind? I have already put these events into words for my wife, and I do not think I am capable of saying them again.”
“Absolutely. Whatever is easiest for you, Dr. Miletus.”
I reached my hand out to her, but she retracted hers, cradling it to her chest for a moment as though my touch would cause her physical pain.
“I fear that if I show you, you will be unable to suppress your rage. You are of all powers, Ms. Olivier, and you are close with the King. He mustn’t know of this. Caspar is his son, and though their relationship is troubled, he is still his son. When others spoke of what Caspar had done, they were silenced. They remained here, but they never spoke of it again. They are afraid of Adam. I am afraid. I have a wife, a husband, and a child on the way. My wife will not carry this child to term if harm befalls me. Her nerves are fragile; she has been sick since childhood. Promise me if I show this to you, you will not confront either Elohimson, father or son.”
“I promise you.” I said immediately, and I meant it.
Her hand reached out to me slowly, her eyes on the ground again, her face blank.
“Leave here now.” She had ordered, “You will leave here this instant, or I will fetch the guards.”
“And you believe the guards will arrest me? You believe they will throw the son of the king they so fear into a jail cell?”
He was walking towards her slowly, letting her anticipate with each step he took the moment when his hands would be upon her. In her reminiscence, Caspar was a visitor, a guest star, but her instincts were able to read his very essence, and so that essence was there in her memory. If his essence was there, I could read his thoughts.
Rape was out of the question. He had never raped a woman in his life, and he never wanted to rape a woman. He had simulated it with consenting “whores”—comfort workers, as one who respected their career and them as human beings would call them—but he had never done it for real. But this woman gave his mother such trouble. She was so firm, too firm. When he watched her walk so tall, speak so firmly, express herself so resolutely, all he wanted was one moment to frighten her at the very least, and at the very most, to violate her. It was his nature, he thought. He could not help it that he was born Dionysian. It was his father’s fault that he was born that way; it was his blood that had carried the Dionysian gene. His father hated him for what he was, but he, meaning Caspar, was wildly proud of what he was. His business was pleasure—his own above anyone’s—and in his own way, he helped other people. When they came begging for wealth, for fame, for the hearts of those after whom they lusted, he granted their wishes. He gave them their darkest desires. His business was pleasure, and how much harm could there truly be in that?
So he should have been excused when his nature made him act out his own darkest impulses. It was not his fault that he was so slandered. He was walking human desire, walking darkness. Dionysus was so misunderstood, and so was he. All Dionysus wanted was to have a little fun, and so did he. Why should anyone be beholden to altruistic principles when principles of selfishness and violence and fulfillment made life so much more exciting? He was too young to have such thoughts; he was too young to be so mature. But that was his power, his nature. He could not fight his nature.
If he had not been so high, maybe it would not have escalated so far. But Devil’s Touch made those who took it act out on their most recent emotions, which is why Violet was sitting in front of him, laughing as he pinned Miletus facedown to the desk. She remembered the rage and self-indignation she had felt when Miletus expelled her. She remembered the wishes of the darkest parts of her mind that she had heard as she stormed away, her pride wounded and her heart broken, her ambitions dashed, her future uncertain once again. He knew that in her right state, she would be begging him not to hurt Miletus, because those dark wishes would be erased at the sight of Miletus pinned down, her eyes closed and tearing, her breaths soft yet fast, her body shaking as she tried to fight the urge to cry, to scream, as she tried to gather the strength to fight…
He was not as high as Violet, but he was high enough that he did not feel the guilt he normally felt. The justifications for his actions came hard and fast. As his hands worked in between Miletus’s front and the desk, and he felt as he squeezed her breasts the rapid, frantic pounding of her heart, as he ripped her blouse down the center, and she began to fight, and he pushed her face as hard as he could into the desk twice, until she stopped moving, he told himself she deserved it, she deserved it, she deserved it… but he didn’t know why.
His thoughts became a droning background noise as hers pushed to the forefront. She just wanted to stop crying, she wanted to remain as emotionless as she always was, she wanted to stop picturing her wife and husband… So many people said that as they faced a trauma, seeing pictures of their loved ones in their minds pulled them through, but seeing them just made her so ashamed, so humiliated. When she saw them in her mind, it was like they were there, watching her as she was so degraded, so violated, so weak and helpless, more weak and more helpless than she had ever been in her entire thousand-year-old life…
Physically, she was forty-five, and all her life she had been an ace fighter as well as possessor of infinite medical expertise. But in that moment, she was weak, held down by that impossibly strong boy of twenty-one, the King’s son. But his mind was not twenty-one. He could not have such darkness if his mind were so young; he
could not have such frighteningly mature and startlingly accurate knowledge of how best to intimidate his enemies like he did.
Violet was laughing, and Miletus was sympathizing with her, knowing that she would remember none of it except the regret and guilt that she would be feeling if she were witnessing it without being under the influence of drugs.
“Do you want to be my whore, Luciana Miletus?”
It made me sick to hear him say it, but it did not make me nearly as sick as it made her. What made her even sicker were the words that came out of her mouth as a reflex.
“No. Please.”
“That’s it. Beg me.”
“Please go.”
“That’s not going to do it. Say ‘Prince Caspar, I would like to make a deal for my worthless life. I would like to live, and I want you to let me live.’”
She said those words verbatim, her voice only trembling somewhat, and her tears falling from her eyes against her will.
Her memory had cut off there, because she had broken the touch between us, but I could surmise what had happened. Once returned to the present, I could only look at her, because my heart was beating so fast.
“Was it the worst?” I asked her, and she shook her head.
“He seemed to grow bored after some time. He took me outside and held me at the edge of the ash circle, and he gave me a warning.”
“What did he say?”
“He said he knew my wife was sick, and he knew that she would not survive her pregnancy if something happened to me. He said he would throw me to the tree-beasts if I did not allow Violet back into medical training. In his heart, Brynna, he believes he is doing right by her. He believes that he is being gallant, kind, and romantic. He is taking up her cause. He is fighting for her. In his mind, I am the villain, and he is the hero, defeating me.” Her voice had broken completely, and one hand came up to cover her face. For a few seconds, harsh, violent sobs choked out of her, and while I normally wanted to run as quickly as my nonhuman abilities would allow whenever anyone started crying, I quickly came around the desk, knelt beside her, and took the hand that was wrapped around her middle.
“There is nothing I can do.” She said, “More importantly, there is nothing you can do. It must be buried. All that occurred must simply be swept away. His father is powerful. He is ruthless. We are alright with one another now, but if I accuse his son of this…”
“Dr. Miletus, he and I are close now, and if you want, I can…”
“No.” She shook her head, “I cannot risk it. I cannot risk my life, because if my life is lost, my child’s will be lost as well. I know it. I know that my poor wife will not survive it. We have been together for one hundred and eight years. She has been sick. I do not care about me, but my wife, my husband, our unborn child, our daughter… It is his power that has made him so dark. It is his belief that he is fighting for her honor. I remember when he was a boy. He was an angel, just like his smaller brother now. I cannot believe that that same boy could do what he did to me.”
“It doesn’t matter what he is now, or what he was, Dr. Miletus.” I had said, “His power makes him dark, but it also makes him vulnerable. If you give me permission, I will settle it. Using my power, I will erase all knowledge of what occurred between you and Violet from his mind. That will erase him as a threat.”
“He is very smart. Surely, he will be expecting…”
“No.” I said, “There is no way he can predict my actions. His father cannot, so he certainly cannot. Just give me permission to settle this matter for you, and I will. Okay? I will settle it.”
I do not know why I was so eager to help her. Perhaps it was seeing how her fear and shame had morphed her from the strong, unyielding woman whose eyes did not fall for a moment, regardless of to whom she was speaking, to a trembling, teary shell of that other woman. Later, I would be told that it was all a result of my savior complex, which specifically applied to middle-aged, attractive females who reminded me of one particular middle-aged, attractive female. Regardless of the reason, in the present moment, I grabbed Caspar’s hands, focused hard on the events that Dr. Miletus had shown me, and then, I pulled from the darkness of our joined minds a bright white light. Quickly, the images of Dr. Miletus erased themselves from my inner-sight, though there was still a hazy outline of them playing in my mind but not in his. Easily, I had erased the whole night from his mind. He could not remember what I had done. It had been so easy, once our hands were touching.
I looked up at him, and he was staring at me, his green eyes dreamy and unfocused. A small grin was pulling at the corners of his mouth. After a moment, he blinked, and the usual steel of his gaze reappeared. I had never erased memories before, but I appeared to have done a sufficient job.
“Did she tell you…” He asked me icily, “…that it was Violet who held her to the ash circle and threatened to throw her over?”
The ice in his voice filled me up, and I backed up a step, my brows furrowed in confusion.
“Yes. This is why the Dionysians and the Athenes could never quite see eye-to-eye. This is why our kinds destroyed each other. We are too crafty to fall victim to your mind tricks, and you are too wise to take our deals. It is how we survive, you know. It is through threats, barters, and trades that we keep our immortal lives, because it is through threats, barters, and trades that we feed on you all. We are the only ones who require the life-forces of others to survive. The rest of you are untested by the one God. The rest of you just live easily, needing nothing to keep yourselves alive. So, yes, I intimidated a woman my mother and I have long loathed; I made her think that I would assault her. But I did not, Brynna. I will not.”
He closed the space between us and looked down at me.
“Do you think I enjoy being this way? Do you think I would have chosen this, if I had been given a choice?”
“Caspar, you are dangerous. You are a danger to everyone around you. Why have you not left?”
“My father forced me to leave. He put me in the one place where my power could not harm anyone except whom we wanted to harm. When I was at war, I was serving the cause. It was the only time he was proud that I was his son. He loved me dearly when I was young, but once my power reared its head, I was dead to him. How cruel is that?”
I almost believed him. His heart certainly lent credibility to his words, because it was clearer and more sincere than it had ever been in any of our other conversations. His green eyes were alight with moisture, but I could not call that moisture tears. Still, they made his eyes look bigger, brighter, almost puppy dog-like. It was hard to decide if the sincerity of his heart, those tears in his eyes, or the beseeching of my compassion that I saw in his mind were all worthy of my trust, but after a moment, I could not help but lower my guard, however slightly. He was younger than me by only two years, but his maturity rivaled mine. How strange it was that I should be standing before an adversary who was, more or less, of my physical age. Surely, that had to mean something. Surely, it was a sign from God or the Gods. Or a clever trick, at the very least. A cunning metaphor.
“Caspar, stay away from Violet. Stay away from Dr. Miletus. Now that I have entered your mind, it will be all too easy for me to feel your inclinations towards both of them.”
“That old witch expelled your sister, whose only dream was to work on Medical, and you defend her. She is known far and wide across this world as a disrespectful, loathsome shrew, and still, you would take up arms on her behalf?”
“Yes.” I said, “Because no matter what she was or who she is, she could never deserve what you did to her.”
“Oh, but Rene, who merely had a crush, albeit an obsessive one, on your sister, was worthy of the violent death you dealt him?”
“Would you like the repeat that part about how the crush was ‘obsessive?’”
“Regardless of the reason, you dealt out a punishment as your own form of justice, and I did the same.”
“My ‘sense of justice’ was offended because that
man would have eventually raped her, and I knew that! Your ‘sense of justice’ was offended because Dr. Miletus did to Violet exactly what Violet deserved!”
“She deserved for that cold, merciless muff to shame her publicly first, and then shame her in private second; for that muff to take away the only dream that your sister has… You side with her because you wish to save her! You side with her because of some darkness in your past! You feel that I have violated her in a way that you were violated, and I did not. I could not. I merely scared her. I am not the worst of my kind, but I do what I must to survive. I do what I must to protect the people I love, and you do the same!”
“That is enough!”
His voice startled us both. He had shouted, something that he never did. Despite the outburst, he merely sauntered up the steps, his eyes blazing as he looked between the two of us. When his long fingers wrapped around my small hand, engulfing it completely, though, his touch was far gentler than the look in his eyes led me to believe he was capable of being in that moment. When he spoke, too, his voice was soft, apologetic.
“Brynna, I am sorry for all that has occurred. I am sorry that my son…” He said the word with such disdain, and Caspar, for just one half-second, visibly cringed, as though Adam had physically struck him, “…has caused such issues for you and Violet. I ordered him before we came here that he was to leave all of you well alone. But then, he has always had such trouble following simple commands. Haven’t you?”
“Adam…” I said.
Adam grabbed Caspar by the back of his neck and pushed him forcefully towards me.
“Apologize. Now.”
“Adam.” I said again.
“What are you going to do to me, Father?” Caspar asked venomously through clenched teeth, “Send me off to war again? Mother said that she would utterly destroy you if you tried.”
“Well ‘Mother’ has always believed herself capable of destroying me. Apologize to Brynna for what you have done, and promise that you will never tarnish her doorstep with your sickening presence ever again. You will never speak to her sister again.”
“Adam!” I snapped at him, and they both looked at me, “Let him go.”
Adam stared at me for a long moment, but then, he released Caspar. After a moment, Caspar stood up straight.
“Is it true that he must do this to survive?”
“Yes.” Adam hissed, “That is why his kind is so filthy. They know they must do it to survive, when the honorable action would be to just die!”
“Adam, that is a terrible thing to say!” I snapped at him so furiously that he looked at me in utter shock. “He is your son, and you would wish death upon him?!”
“I do not wish death upon him, nor is he my son! He is his mother’s child only, carrying the filthy genes of her ilk. It is in her bloodline that his sickness runs, not mine.”
“Is he not so sweet, Brynna Olivier? Is he not so kind? So worthy of your love?” Caspar asked bitterly, but now, there were unmistakable tears in his eyes. I was so torn. I could not understand how it was possible to feel such protectiveness over a man who had done something so terrible to a woman, who had led my sister down such a dangerous path, who had shown up at my house because he was trying to intimidate me… And yet my heart iced over with a frigid, painful chill when I looked at Adam now, because hadn’t my parents said his same words to me so many times? In both my case and Caspar’s, we were simply victims of our circumstances. Lucien’s death was not all my fault, and Caspar’s power was not all his. It was strange, to suddenly be judging someone who was so openly condemning one who had committed such sadistic acts, but I was judging Adam. I opened my door, walked inside, and turned around in the doorway.
“He is your son, Adam, regardless of what he is. No wonder he finds it so easy to hurt other people. Not only is it for his survival, but it is because you did not guide him into finding other ways. It is because you can look him right in the eyes and tell him that it would have been honorable for him to just end his life. Caspar, I have said many things about your mother, but at least she treats you well. At least she accepts her child completely.”
“Brynna…” Adam said.
“I will see you at the wedding, though now I am not sure if I even want to see you.”
“Brynna, he is merely playing you. This is the act he puts on when he smells sympathy. This is the act they all put on.”
“I am too tired to care if I am being lied to by one or both of you. Goodnight.” I said, and I closed the door in their stunned faces.