Dakarai knows he isn’t being fair-minded, but until I reveal the whole truth, there is nothing he can do for me. Our connection should have made it more comfortable, but I don’t feel like myself. I have become something I fear. He is my muse, and I am his. We vow to protect each other. But how can he uphold this vow for a monster? A murderer.
I know deep down Dakarai wants to face the reality of my situation. But his heart can’t bear the death of another loved one. I am presenting him with a chance to save me, yet his decision wavers because of disbelief and a lack of evidence. As a Supreme Warrior, we are always taught to think before we act, evaluate every situation, and proof shall determine which path we use: to respond with violence, peace or to not act at all. What I am telling him goes against our code. He’s stuck unable to make a move. The position I’ve placed him in has suggested he dismiss the issue altogether.
“How are you here now?” His stare penetrates my temples. His hands clench together trying to stop his shakes.
“If it will make you believe me– then you should know. The one thing we are supposed to leave as a last resort.” I brush pass him making sure to bump into his shoulders. His lips part and before he can say, “no you didn’t”, I beat him to it. “Create a double,” I say, storming out of his apartment and slamming the door behind me. Now how am I going to get myself out of this mess without him?
“There are no coincidences. Every event we experience and every person we meet has intentionally been put in our path to help raise our level of consciousness.”
-Cheryl Richardson.
18
The SYSTEM
{Dakarai}
Guilt swells in my chest. I vowed to protect her, and when the moment came I turned my back on her. Cali’s not stupid, and she’s sure not weak. She was able to surpass the initiation into the Supreme Warrior Clan, yet the person that stood before me showed no resemblance of the warrior I knew her to be. She came to me and what did I do? I didn’t believe her. I can’t help feeling disappointed. And maybe I chose not to believe her because of it. I expected much more from her, but if the problem is that bad, I really shouldn’t be thinking this way. Her father’s unsatisfied face appears in my mind. Am I starting to behave like him, disappointed in whatever decisions she makes? Maybe I shouldn’t have been so harsh. I should have heard her out. I should have pried the answers out of her rather than allow my anger- or disappointment to get the better of me. I have to make this right.
My phone buzzes in my pocket. There’s no caller ID. When I don’t pick up the first time, it rings again. I wonder who it is. After the fourth ring, I answer. A masked voice responds with instructions. I look out the window and see no one. How can this person know where I am? The phone cuts off I decide to proceed with caution. Outside I scan the area. Nothing. This feels like a prank. I must really be losing my head if I’m walking blindly following instructions from an unknown source. I must have spoken too soon as a boy in a hoodie brush by, slipping a note into my hands, then takes off briskly.
“Hey,” I shout. The boy disappears into a tree. That’s strange. It looks like magic to me. Magic I’ve seen before when I was on the run from the Kutawala’s Albinos, or maybe it isn’t magic at all. There is no green glow around either the boy or tree. I slowly unfold the note.
I’ve got the answers you’re looking for.
No name, nor address. My phone buzzes again. “What?” I bark into the phone. The masked voice, as if reading my mind, provides a location and hangs up before I can press the person further. Damn it.
It’s time to find out what’s really going on.
*
I enter a small café on Deptford high street. A bell chimes as I push the door. An aroma of coffee and cupcakes fill the air, at once pleasant and sickening. In the far corner, sitting around a table is a woman wearing shades. Not obvious at all. I don’t expect the person I am meeting to be readily identifiable. Although she blends in with her basic clothing, an orange floral t-shirt with black trousers, she stands out as someone with many secrets. Unlike Sarah, she looks a lot younger and sane. I walk over to her. We don’t make eye contact. The only vacant chair opposite is slowly pushed out. She continues to sip her tea and read the daily newspaper. I wouldn’t really call it reading as her head doesn’t dip to the level of the paper outstretched in her hands.
“I see you made it.” She carefully folds the paper and slips off her reflective cat-like shades. My suspicions are answered, but still, I’m surprised. She is blind in one eye, partially glazed over like fresh ice. Even with this deformity, she watches me as if she has two. She reads my energy in a way no human should be able to. I can feel her aura testing mine. “Not quite what you were expecting ay?” She laughs softly. Her cheeks rise with the sun that tries to peek at her bronze skin. My eyes skim over the trucker hat that pushes her tight curls onto her shoulders. She appears mature but is clearly in her late teens.
“What’s this about?”
“Are you in a rush?”
“You could say that.”
“Well lucky for you so am I.” She glances at the clock before she gets all serious. I feel her aura outstretch to cover the whole café. It’s like a crashing wave clearing out the sand as it replaces it. When she retracts it, the room feels electrified. What did she do?
“Have you decoded Sarah’s message yet?” I don’t respond, still fascinated by her control and power. She doesn’t bear the mark of the Eye of Horus, so what else could be allowing her to tap into the Ethers like this? Unless her genetic makeup is full of positive and negative charged cells. “See I would hurry up with that. Time is running out. Before you know it your back in your slumber. I could help with that, but it would only tamper with the purpose of her revealing herself to you.”
“You said you have answers.”
“I do, which is why they won’t kill me. I’m too valuable. They need me-“
“Whose they?”
“The person in control of the SYSTEM.”
“Do they have a name?”
“Maybe, maybe not. I can’t tell you that, either way. You’re not ready. Besides, it will defeat the whole purpose of you coming to know the truth. When the time comes, you will speak their name, and that alone will be enough for you all to break free.”
“That’s funny, so what is the point in even telling me. How do you expect me to uncover the truth without the identity of the people I am trying to supposedly escape?”
“Oh, that’s right, you don’t believe us. Sarah dropped a bombshell which you and Khari were unable to comprehend. You need more evidence. A physical representation of what it is we talk about. Well, here I am.” She spreads her arms wide and smiles flashing me her straight teeth. She thinks this is funny. She is taking this for a joke. Little does she see the seriousness in my eyes. I am walking a thin rope, either I put all my time and energy into unmasking this whole SYSTEM or I help my love. “I’ve probably alerted them just by talking to you. See just like you, I’m not supposed to be here, or awake. I’ve woken up.” The more she talks, the more she baffles me, although there is some sense to it all. I just have to follow her lead, read between the lines and be open-minded.
“How?”
“I’m still figuring that out, but something must be wrong. She must be getting closer.”
“Who’s she? Calista?” I whisper.
“No. Not her. The one who will set the bar for your enlightenment. She will destroy to escape.”
“Does she have a name?”
She bites her lips and drags her eyes across the table. A waiter casually walks by, his eyes giving my seat the once over. “Calista will have…”
The sound of a trigger being pulled rings. My chest tightens. I see him. Tadaaki. I take a sharp intake of breath and jump out of my seat; my hands extend to activate my super strength. Sweat starts to form on my forehead as I scan the shop. The electric vibe in the air bounces off my skin. A shiver races through my body. The woman doesn’t move. She studi
es me, her thick eyebrows narrowing. “It’s a good thing, I cloaked us.” She leans forward and whispers. “I see you still have PTSD about that night. They’re testing you.” I wouldn’t call it PTSD. It’s just a memory acting out.
“Forget them. What just happened?”
She pauses and stirs her tea. “The virus it’s attacking me.” Her glazed eye shimmers, and I see ants of intricate codes run through her eye. I press my hands to my temples. Tadaaki’s dead eyes flash before me. The tears rise in my chest. I have never experienced the memory in broad daylight. I clench my fist and gently knock them against my head. My brain feels like it’s about to explode. I have never felt pain like this. It’s a thousand times worse than when my parents pulled me away from Tadaaki’s corpse. He didn’t receive the proper burial. We left him there to rot as we fled for our lives.
The codes continue to float through her eyes. I wished Aziza was here to at least make sense of one thing. If Sarah and this woman are right the codes could answer all our questions, we just need to reword it so we can understand it. But with Calista being here, there is nothing I can focus on but her. I’m not the type of guy to get stressed quickly, but this assignment is indeed taking it out of me. I can’t even get a good night’s rest without being terrorised by the memory. It has become more frequent, and the night Calista showed up was the first time it played out from start to finish.
“It’s attacking me, but I’m fighting back.” The codes in her eye speed up, running over each other like flying ants.
“Are you messing with me?” I peak through the gap in between my fists.
“There’s enough time for scepticism.” She huffs. “But now is not the time. Remember I told you they needed me. I’m in the SYSTEM.” Now we are getting somewhere. That’s why she said she was physical evidence. If I am right, she must be some sort of computer. She probably could connect her mind with electronic devices, write codes and just generally tap into their mainframe. But what doesn’t add up is how both women speak of the SYSTEM, as if it is something more than a computer, but more like they were living within one. Perhaps the infrastructure of a country or something more.
“How can you help take down the SYSTEM if you’re inside it?” I slam my hand on the table with my gun buried underneath. This makes no sense. “It will all make sense when she’s reborn.”
“Who?”
“There’s a white room you’re trapped in. Find the white room Dakarai.”
Another gunshot ripples through the air, and she disappears.
“Do not listen with the intent to reply, but with the intent to understand.”
19
Bonding
{Calista}
To some degree I have become bipolar. On the battlefield I am giddy with excitement, energy rolls off me like a Tsunami ready to take lives that were already destroyed by the Kutawala. In my cell, I am a wreck; scratching at the walls with my nails, tugging on my plaits picturing them to be limbs of the deceased. Blood stains my hands. ‘Out black dot’, I screamed a few times in my sleep. Some nights I cried. I hate what I’ve become. If you see my eyes, you wouldn’t believe I am the same girl who had grown up in a stable family protected by the walls of her kingdom. Now I am trapped behind the walls of my own making. I am drowning in my own guilt. I don’t see how the darkness can help me, it will only reveal what I already know. I am a beast beyond rehabilitation. Or am I something more. Something unexpected.
A memory of my mother appears before my eyes. The world fades away.
*
There’s a golden glow. I look down at my bloodied hands with cuts and bruises covering my knuckles. Tears spilling onto my black shirt. It must be noted before this, I had almost burnt the training room down, my rage igniting my Blue Flame. Father had embarrassed me in front of my peers who laughed and mocked me. I felt weak. Out of control. What kind of Princess, what kind of warrior in training was not respected by her own people?
“Wipe your tears child.” Mother storms into my bedroom. Her waist-length locks raised into the air like Medusa’s snakes gliding against the wind she created, as she thrust her red scarf tightly around her arms. The royal stones, Jasper and Lapis Lazuli, are laced into her locks. Her silver strapless dress hugs her figure and stretches out behind her.
“Look at you, you’re a mess.” She gestures for me to get up. I resist at first, but when her stern look intensifies, I feel a greater need to do as she asked. “You’re a woman. Be in control of your emotion.” I sniff. “Let no man pull you low enough to hate him and what the universe gave you, that includes your father. Who are they to judge you, just because you’re a woman and you carry the Blue Flame? Right?”
“Yes,” I mutter between sniffles.
“That doesn’t sound convincing.”
“Yes, mother I hear you. Loud and clear.”
“But do you feel me?” She straightens my back and tucks a plait behind my ear. “Let no one break your spirit. You are strong, beautiful and intelligent. There is nothing you cannot accomplish.”
I recite our teachings. “I can achieve anything, there is nothing I cannot accomplish.”
“That’s right.” Mother smiles and nods her head at me in recognition. “If you’re not happy with yourself then change it. Love yourself first. Always seek to improve and not destroy yourself. By any means know that you are powerful and stop doubting yourself. Forget about your father. He loves you and is pleased with your improvement even if he doesn’t display such. You’re doing great, not every woman is built to withstand the pressures of the initiation, but you are. Look beyond your desire to please him and do for self. You will find it far more rewarding.”
*
Mother fades away like smoke and Myah enters disrupting the peaceful memory.
Change. Such a miniscule yet daunting thing. I have already changed so much. Into something unrecognisable. It’s like I wear a mask, I struggle to find who I truly am with the constant battles that keep me submerged in their barbaric mentality. If I am not happy with myself, I must change, I must rise to the occasion and seek better. But isn’t that what I had started out doing. The blood that smears my hands, reminds me that I have become a monster but this is only a small sign of how low I have sunk. I take lives for the thrill…but also to release my people from this animalistic life that has been bestowed upon them. I tell myself this to keep from believing the monster I have become. Can I be redeemed? Is there purpose to this too?
Myah’s feet approach me. She doesn’t say a word as always. When her feet come to a stop, I notice she is closer than usual. I breathe in deeply as I see her hand reach for my face. The one thing I hate is people touching my face, mainly if they are clearly dirty and they don’t ask prior. I try to duck but she makes a cooing sound, and I feel my body stiffen. What is she doing? My body obeys a secret command I am unaware of. A sequence of vibrations spoken in a language unknown to me.
The moment her cold hands touch my face my body jolts like I have been shocked with a defibrillator. I see memories that are not my own, and I had previously glanced in my dreams. Three different stages of one’s life. Childhood. Teenagerhood. Adulthood. As the images rush by, I come to realise the Prince may have had a point after all, and one of the most unexpected truths is disguised as a child; the embodiment of one’s previous existence. A fallen heir. Now it makes sense why I alone am able to see her. She is here for me. Here to start my path on the road to enlightenment and it all starts with that day. The Civil War. The time the Dynasties pulled on hell’s reigns and got burnt.
Ramiyah.
The dead has risen.
The place Myah has taken me is unknown even to myself, but there she has created a home for herself, and there she will rest until her work is done. Against my cheek, I feel her hand grow warm. With every minute that goes by, she becomes an energy ball on the brink of exploding. Her memories ambush my brain, and my eyes flutter at an insane pace. I’m barely able to watch Myah become a casket of light and practically d
iffuse into my body. When the memories stop, she’s gone. Nothing is left behind in her wake, except her memories and instructions of what to do next. Her parting gift is a few words: we are all but reflections of each other.
It’s a good thing Tamari decides to show up. I need him to take me to the person who has answers.
“To what do I owe this surprise?”
“I’m beginning to understand why you need me so badly…”
“Like I said…”
I don’t want to hear what he has to say. He needs to listen and not respond. “But first, I need to know what really happened during the Civil War. All details. Leave nothing out.”
When I was eleven, I learned about the Civil War from the man who supposedly played a big part in it. I was in my history class when father decided to grace us with his presence and provide us with first-hand information. History from time to time bored me. After all, it was the past, but if we do not acknowledge it then how do we expect to find who we are and our place in this world. History teaches and prepares us for the future. Provides us with information to continue the cycle or break it through change.
He never told us the initial cause of the war, but rather the gory details along with its aftermath. Although, he did mention critical aspects that were vital to understanding how they survived such a devastating attack. Now, all of that changes. The Prince will either confirm father’s story or discredit it altogether. But who’s to say his account shall be the real one. Its time I find out the truth and make one move closer to the darkness or away from it altogether.
“I thought you’d never ask.” The Prince claps his hands together after clicking his fingers like a drummer does his drums. “Step into my office.” I’m moved into a living room-like setting that resembles an underground lair. Brick walls box us in with the overwhelming sweet scent of frankincense. Upon instinct, I breathe in its purity and complete security. The Prince offers me a seat on the only sofa in the room while he perches on a stretched-out table. I don’t like how close he is. One move and we could bump heads. His eyes with his long eyelashes stare back at me. I feel to clear my throat, even that I cannot do.
The Masterpiece (The shadow I cast Book 1) Page 9