“Did you know that, in the beginning, Shedim were born of a tree?” Alexander continued. “Much like all the fruits you know.” He had a nostalgic smile, and I tried to imagine a tree, heavy with fruits that were actually beings. “Those were the ones we still call originals. The same happens with the Iaida, the Merifri’s highest caste. But the trees of the Shedim withered away, because they started reproducing among themselves. Some say it was a divine curse, since, to both Deiwos and Merifri, intercourse is forbidden.”
“The Law.”
“Yes,” Alexander confirmed with a smile. “However, after the trees of the Shedim withered, there was really only one way left in order to create a new Shedim, much the same way all the living beings of your world do it. But, as it still is forbidden, the female carrying the child never survives the birth. I believe you can easily see how this can change the way a society is structured. A female’s only purpose became conceiving a child. They are exchanged, sold and bought according to their power. A clan is considered as strong as the sum of the power of its members. And, since females inevitably die, power is measured only through males. Larger, more powerful clans can buy more powerful females to produce a new generation even more powerful, if possible. And so on.”
“And he ... was one of these children,” I muttered.
“As were all of his caste. However, and because the clan leader had high expectations about Izrail, his training was especially hard. Because Shedim only develop new powers if they are stimulated in that direction. And that’s what the Mazzikin are for. As soon as they start to walk, all Shedim male children are placed in huge houses, far away in some remote place. Then Mazzikin are sent to them with only one mission at hand — to kill them.” I held my breath and stared at him, stunned. What did he mean? “Of course they start up with the weakest Mazzikin,” he clarified, as if that would make any difference. “But they all have a time line to keep, which is considered the necessary time for a child to achieve enough power to survive.”
“And if they can’t?”
“Then they die,” he calmly replied as I shuddered. “Either the child dies, or the Mazzikin dies. That’s how things work, until the surviving children are strong enough the leave the houses by their own power. In the end, to do it, they have to pass a last test, and kill the Shedim guarding their door. Only the strongest are allowed to survive. And, those that do, are then taken before the clan leader, and the Law is explained to them, and complete obedience is demanded. Since all the clans are ruled by the law of the strongest, there are many who try to take over the clan leader’s position and, the only way to be able to do this, is by gaining yet more power. The clan leader himself has a personal army of Se’irim and Mazzikin to hunt for him. And punishments for disobedience are often being eaten by someone else.
“In my case, however, they gave me to Izrail more as a challenge,” he went on as I swallowed hard. “As it seems, even though he is as strong as everyone expected, he never showed any intentions of further increasing his power. Once freed from his training, he left the main settlement and isolated himself in some remote place. The power he wields is immense, but everyone knows that it could be even greater, should he choose to cultivate it. For this reason, Izrail has always been envied by many, and feared as a rival by most. From assassins sent in the middle of the night to treacherous requests for alliances or even direct challenges, even far from the politics and plots surrounding the ruling class, I’ve never seen him have a minute’s rest. I was given to him by the clan leader himself, in the hope he might finally start doing what someone like him should be doing. But Izrail didn’t eat me. As it seems, it was the same with that cat.”
“Lea, too? Was given to him ... for that?” I struggled. Besides being too much information for my bewildered head, the shock kept muddling my ability to think.
“Yes. But that was before me.”
“Then he ... he never ...” I stammered again and Alexander shrugged, pulling another plate in front of him. The other one was already empty, I noticed absentmindedly.
“That I don’t know. All I know is that he didn’t eat me. Quite the opposite. He allowed me to stay in that dark, empty house of his, until I regained my strength. He patiently explained to me how things worked around there. I read a lot and his library helped me a great deal to make sense of the new world I’d been thrown into. Besides that, he showed interest when I told him about Jonathan, whom I had been forced to leave behind, here, in your world. And, when I asked him, he helped me return here so I could come and get him. After that, when I took him with me, he protected him when I couldn’t. As I’m sure you can imagine, a living Human Being is something rather rare around there.”
I took a deep breath and tried to unknot my wrapped stomach. Alexander, on the other hand, went on happily with his lunch, completely immune to the dark theme of our conversation. It was almost as if what he told me didn’t concern him, as if it were someone else’s magic tale.
“So, that’s why ... Skylar,” I clarified. The protector. Now, there was a hard concept to grasp.
“I don’t know who first called him that. But it would seem that, over time, he spared many Ruhim, and that’s how he’s known among them.”
“Like Lea.”
“Yes. Although in Lea’s case, he went to the point of giving him a body. Now, that’s something that has always spiked my interest. I’m guessing you know that Ruhim are created by the unrestrained wishes of Humans, wishes that lead to negative actions and emotions.” I nodded and he went on. “Did that cat tell you about his true nature? About what kind of wishes gave way to his existence?”
“No,” I replied and he smiled softly.
“Suileabhan was completely created by other children’s wishes, hence his child-like appearance. Even in his feline shape, he’s still just a kitten.”
“What kind of wishes?” I insisted and Alexander pulled his third plate as I blinked in astonishment. He’d gone over his second even faster than his first.
“Wishes of being loved, related to the pain of having been abandoned, connected with feelings of rage, anger and vengeance. He is like the inner voice of all the children who never knew neither love nor the feeling of protection they should have had from those who were supposed to be there for them. Although he may look just like some annoying kid, Suileabhan is truly unstable and dangerous. He’s only apparently contained thanks to Izrail, who, in accepting him, answered his most inner desire, the one at the foundation of his entire being. I don’t even want to think about what would happen should Izrail refuse him or simply disappear. Better yet, I really don’t want to be anywhere near when that happens.”
I couldn’t help think that he must be exaggerating. Lea could never hurt anyone!
“I don’t think that will be a problem,” I said. “I think that ... he loves Lea very much.” I searched for the right word. I wasn’t sure that Human feelings like love could apply to someone like him, or if they were enough to describe the emotions I saw in his face, every time he gazed upon that child.
“Yes. And Suileabhan is eternally grateful to him and obviously adores him. But still, I can’t help think that, somehow, Izrail identifies with him. That cat was the only living creature roaming around his house when I was taken there. All the others that came, over time, no matter how grateful they were that he’d spared them, always left as soon as possible.” I smiled briefly as I recalled what Lea had told me about the dark, empty house his Master inhabited, and the reason why he’d decided to wear his golden bell.
“But he was Sealed for some time, right?” I reminded Alexander, who nodded.
“For about eighty of your years.”
“What about Lea? If it’s as you say, what happened to him during this time?”
“Izrail put him to sleep.” He saw my shocked look and laughed, clearly making fun of me. I looked away, blushing, and Alexander took a deep breath. “You’re really funny, you know? I hadn’t had this much fun in a while.” Well, at l
east I wasn’t just interesting anymore, I thought critically. “I really miss these kinds of things. Only a Human Being will react like that.” It only contributed to my increasing frustration. “It was the last thing he did. I suppose he knew all too well what would happen if he left that cat alone. Besides, no one could tell with certainty how long he’d be locked up in that dimension.”
“Why didn’t you release him?” I demanded, slightly accusingly. If he’d done it, I wouldn’t be in that position right now. “If you knew what happened, why didn’t you break him free?”
“Because I couldn’t. We’re never able to break Seals cast by other Deiwos. Only the one who did it could have undone it. Not even the strongest of the Shedim would have been able to set him free.” He said and the way he did it clearly pointed towards the obvious conclusion — that, somehow, I held more power than the strongest of his kind.
“But, I’m no one. I’m only Human!” I argued, by now too aware of how limited and frail Humans were when compared with them.
“Only! Contrary to what you may think, being Human is much more than being a Deiwos or a Merifri. We are mere symbols of the options you may, or not, make. If we were to see your world as a school, we would be your teachers, offering you paths from which to choose from. You, Humans, are born into this world, live your lives and, eventually, go your own ways to other superior worlds. We belong here. We were created because you exist. And would probably cease to exist if you were completely gone. Of course, as time went by, we also ended up creating our own rules and our own ways of living, and other objectives came into light. But the fact that we’ll never leave here while you’re simply passing by, that will never change.”
“Except for those who become Se’irim,” I reminded and he brushed a hand over his dark-red bangs that had fallen over his nose.
“Yes. Se’irim and Gaal are the exception.” He smiled before my inquisitive expression and didn’t wait for my question to go on. “The same way Se’irim were once corrupted Humans, Gaal were Humans whose wishes and actions raised them to a point where their Souls are too pure to remain in the Human world. When that happens a choice is presented to them. Either become a Gaal and join the Merifri in helping and orienting other Human Beings, or reincarnate once more into the Human world for a life of service. Sometimes they are asked to live many lives of service before they can leave for other worlds.”
“Service? Like in helping others?” I asked and he nodded. “Are the Merifri the ones who decide the number of lives they have to live?”
“No. No one knows for sure how that’s decided. It just happens that, after another life of service, the Soul goes on to the next level of evolution, to somewhere neither Merifri nor Deiwos can follow. However, before that happens, and while their Souls remain here, since they go on living as normal Human Beings, they are frequently targeted by inferior Deiwos in search of easy sources of power. Because of that, Merifri have decided to grant them their protection so that they’re able to fulfill their missions. And so, for every Human Being that decides to remain and go through with a life of service, an Iaidon, one of the second most powerful castes of the Merifri, is chosen. And they act as that Human’s guardian.” He concluded and I couldn’t help notice the slight bitterness in his voice.
“Guardian, like in a guardian angel?” I asked, my voice falling to a whisper as I recalled what I had heard the night before. “Like the one I ... should have?” His expression was serious all of the sudden.
“I see you heard more than you should,” he grunted critically to which I raised my head, sitting as upright as I could.
“It is my house!” I pointed out. “A house you practically invaded! Not to mention the lamentable state in which you left my living room!” I answered defensively, in the same tone he’d used.
“Point taken, I guess. And, as for your living room, I’m sure Izrail will take care of that.”
“I know,” I replied, but my angry facade was gone the next instant. “Am I one of these Humans? One of those that should have a Guardian?”
“You are,” he confirmed so pointedly that a shudder coursed over my body and I had to blink to make sure that I was still awake.
“But how’s that possible!” I demanded, falling back to my usual reaction, denial. “I’m no different from any other girl! I feel and think like everyone else! I have no special powers, quite the opposite. I’m usually so plain and uninteresting that no one even notices I exist. I’m too shy and have problems saying what I really think. Where can someone like this be so special? Worse,” I went on, nonstop, “how can you expect me to have some higher mission! I’m barely able to manage my own problems!”
“So, you’re saying we’re wrong then,” he concluded and he was right. That made even less sense. But I still wasn’t quite ready to accept it.
“Surely, you must be!” I insisted vehemently. “I probably don’t have a Guardian because I was never supposed to have one to begin with. Maybe you just mistook me for someone else!” He smiled softly.
“We’re not mistaken, Mari. I would never be wrong about something like this. I was, after all, a Guardian for many decades.” I silenced a protest and just stared at him. And there it was again... that bitterness in his voice. “Being a Guardian implies being able to see the light of a Human Being’s Soul, and that’s a gift I still haven’t lost.” I recalled hearing him say something like that, last night, about how somehow I shone? And my hopes of being able to deny all that madness became dimmer by the minute. “You shine so brightly that I can’t help wondering what stopped you from leaving this world. The way I see it, you shouldn’t be here anymore. Want me to prove it to you?”
Before I could answer, our waiter returned. He looked with awe at Alexander’s three empty plates, and with disapproval at my almost untouched fish. He went on offering us the desert menu, from which Alexander quickly chose two types of cake, one chocolate mousse, and a piece of apple pie. The man efficiently took note of everything and went about his way, this time smiling, probably content with the money he was making at Alexander’s expense.
“Prove it,” I decided, after we were alone once more, and he smiled, almost as if he felt proud of my decision.
“You say you feel like everyone else. And maybe that’s true. You’re only Human, after all. But you can hardly express your feelings like the rest of them, or am I wrong?” I was kind of taken aback by that and unconsciously started chewing at the insides of my mouth. “Humans like you can only express what the Soul feels. I’m sure you’ve noticed it by now.”
“I really wouldn’t know,” I answered, again defensively, unable to avoid the feeling of getting unexpectedly slapped across the face.
He was right, I thought, mentally reviewing my life up till then. I’d always been rather odd, as feelings were concerned. I wasn’t sure about that ‘Soul’s feelings’ thing he was talking about, though. Shouldn’t feelings from the Soul be grand and magnificent? I would expect them to fill me completely or to raise me high up, making me soar amongst the clouds. I’d never felt anything even remotely like that. I usually felt half numb, aimlessly wandering through a gray world, desperately trying to mimic the right reactions, since I had no emotions to go with them. In my heart nothing really mattered, or at least nothing had really nattered until I’d met Michael. But then, as soon as he was gone from my sight, I went back to being that gray mirror poorly trying to reflect the world outside. And that was all well. I’d been used to it by now. Used to the daily theater. Used to the emptiness. Used to always be the introverted girl, who never quite knew what to say, or when to say it, or even when to laugh. Until he’d appear in my room, turning everything upside down, filling my dull, empty, gray world with terror and fear.
“I just know that whenever I want to cry, or feel like it, I just can’t,” I told him in defeat. And yet, I had no difficulty shedding tears every time he came close to me, even when I didn’t want them to appear. Now that I thought about it, something must have be
en really wrong with me.
“Your tears don’t belong to your heart,” he explained. “Like your smiles, and your laughter, or angry expressions. They don’t obey your Human feelings.” He went on condescendingly, as if afraid that this subject might bother me more than all the other, much darker things that he’d told me before.
“Then the tears that I did cry ...”
“Belonged to your Soul.”
The waiter returned, balancing three small plates on one arm and holding another in his hand. He cheerfully placed them on the table, wishing us a good appetite. Alexander didn’t even hesitate, voraciously attacking the closest dish, a generous piece of strawberries and cream sponge cake. It was almost as he hadn’t eaten anything at all.
My mind, however, was too engaged in other things to ponder about that for long. My heart and my Soul both existed inside me, but each one with their own feelings, probably their own wills, almost like two distinct identities. I was far from being merely odd, I thought bitterly. Still, I’d have more than enough time to mull over that later on. Now there were still questions I wanted to ask, not knowing if I’d ever have the chance to talk to him alone again.
“Let’s assume I accept that being different thing. He said my Guardian is asleep. Is that true?”
“Yes. And, as much as it displeases me, I can’t help but agree with Izrail,” he said, his voice sounding colder than usual.
“That he fell asleep by his own free will? That he just ... abandoned me?” I asked and laughed ironically. “That’s just me! After all, why shouldn’t he. What could possibly have made him stay?”
“You really shouldn’t sell yourself short, like that,” he responded, putting down his fork.
“That’s not the case. I mean, even if you say I’m this wonderful, powerful being, I really can’t see it. All I see are limitations, flaws, things that could really use some improvement, and a growing propensity towards madness. Who, in his right mind, would want to watch over that for a whole life? I know I wouldn’t!” Alexander pushed a small plate over to me and I stared down at the piece of chocolate caramel nut cake looking back at me. “Is this supposed to comfort me?”
Blood of the Pure (Gaea) Page 40