Although he knew all too well how she felt through their celestial connection, Anzu didn’t really know what was the right thing to say, and thus only went about frantically stamping on the flames before they spread.
“I can sense what you’re feeling,” he finally murmured. “But there’s little reason in setting everything on fire.”
Hearing his words, he noticed she’d ceased her destructive activities. Anzu could tell she now tried to clear her head and calm her mind. Aware of her actions, she then gazed about the room and at the aftermath. The white wallpaper had cracked and peeled. Charred remnants of the organisations clothing littered the floor, and the navy blue bag she’d thrown them into had turned the colour of charcoal.
“How can you possibly know how I feel,” she asked him.
“We formed a spiritual bond last night with one another,” he said, trying to speak in a delicate, non-agitating tone. “We are now one and the same; your thoughts are my thoughts. Your feelings are my feelings, and your dreams are my dreams.”
Despite her appearing reluctant to believe him, Anzu knew that Katherine believed his words were true.
How could she not? He thought to himself. If she were to concentrate, she could easily read my mind. How could she even doubt it? She must remember, and should feel, the surging sensations of our energies combined since the creation of this bond too. And then there was her dream in which she shared with me. The feelings of helplessness she had possessed, and of the pain and sadness we’ve experienced from those loved ones lost to us.
“Why did you choose to be my guardian?” She questioned, her judging eyes fixed on his own. “Ra must have other descendants, I don’t even know what you expect or want from me.”
Having beaten his wings to dissipate of any lingering smoke, he gazed up at her, once more unsure how to respond.
“You just remind me of her,” he said, fumbling with his words.
“Who do I remind you of?”
The bedroom door slid open.
“Anzu, it has been a while,” said Monica, as she quietly entered the room.
Katherine ground her teeth, and she glared at them is if they were evil incarnate. “You two know each other? How is that even possible?”
“Yes we do, and she too has a fiery temper,” Anzu muttered beneath his breath.
“Well Anzu, would you care to explain?”
Why must I? He pondered; surely you know and can read my thoughts. And with this reaction, he questioned his own wisdom. Is it possible I was wrong about this young one?
“Are you going to answer me, or are you just going to stand there looking confused?”
I’m not the one who’s confused, thought Anzu, anxious and averting his gaze before he received a further scolding from her.
He had soon gathered the courage to respond. “She was once my mother’s master.”
Terrific, this only raises more questions; he had heard her say within the depths of her mind, her frustration clear for all to see. And now I find myself curious over how such spirits could even have children. Only the more I think on it, the less I actually want to know.
“She just served as a motherly figure…, when we both first entered this world from the last,” he said, in response to those questions that plagued her mind.
“How is that even possible? And who gave you the right to listen in on my thoughts?” Katherine asked her temper on the rise.
“We share a celestial bond between a master and guardian,” he replied through a mumble. “You can also hear and see what’s going on from within me as well.”
She cursed back at him. “But you have no right; I never gave you permission,”
He realised there was little to gain from arguing with her, especially when she was in such a state.
“I’m sorry, it won’t happen again,” he solemnly responded.
“You were the cloaked woman from my dream, weren’t you?” He heard Katherine question, her focus shifted now to Monica for the time being.
Monica stared back at her with a look of astonishment. “A dream? Have you already shared memories with your guardian?”
“She has,” Anzu quickly answered, much to Katherine’s noticeable dismay. “Somehow, she relived past events within her dream, which included that moment atop the precipice where Zu was killed before our eyes.”
“Please Katherine, I need to know what you’ve seen,” asked Monica, a sense of urgency in her voice.
Anzu watched as Katherine bit at a nail and appeared reluctant to speak. But she soon did as he had hoped, and explained the contents of her dream to Monica.
“At first, I thought I’d woken in my own bed and everything had returned to normal,” she said. “That is, until I peered out my bedroom window. I saw a pyramid, and a figure dressed in gold on top of it. But then it all changed, just as quickly as it had begun. I soon found myself in the backyard once again with those Corrupted.”
Seated upon the bed’s end, Monica beckoned for her to continue. “And then what happened?”
Katherine glanced over at Anzu, her eyes narrowed. “Why don’t you tell her? You have access to my thoughts.”
“You just told me I had no right,” he meekly responded.
She turned back to Monica. “My memory of it all at this point is a little vague, but I remember a merging of sorts. As I was still in the yard faced with these Corrupted, that is I think it was them. You see their shape remained, but their bodies were consumed within blue flames.”
“A pyre of blue sparks,” said Anzu, seeking to provide some clarity. “What we both saw was a manifestation of celestial energy. Every living entity emits this energy, of which only the most perceptive eyes can see.”
Much to his surprise, Katherine nodded back at him. He could also sense from within that she’d followed along for the most part.
“The rest of what happened is all quite fuzzy. I had rushed over to my father’s side, and then out of nowhere I found myself atop a mountain. And lying there at my feet was a guardian, like Anzu. It looked like a gryphon too, only bigger and of a navy blue and red colouring,” Katherine continued, scratching at her forehead and trying to recollect the important contents of this dream. “I’m sorry, it’s all so new to me and difficult to describe.”
“You’ve done very well,” said Monica. “What you saw was Zu: my guardian. That is, right before she passed on.”
“Wait, you’re an Indigo?” Katherine questioned.
“I was once,” Monica replied, gazing upward at the ceiling. “I too forged a celestial bond, only to have it broken. Those were dark times, and there were Corrupted who possessed of powers beyond one’s imagination.”
“There’s something you’ve yet to speak of,” Anzu reminded, sharing with Katherine an unsettled glance. “Inside the dream, we also saw the face of the one who killed Zu.”
Monica gasped, the colour drained from her cheeks. “You saw the wraith of Atlantis…, the usurper of souls…?”
The face of Namtar…,” said Anzu with a shiver. “There is no sight more cruel or reviled.”
Monica arose from the bed’s end and stumbled forward, her eyes wide open with fear and her bottom lip trembling. Anzu had never seen her like this, at least not until that night on top of the precipice. She was often so calm and reserved, he remembered, and yet here she stands before us a frail and horrified version of her former self.
“Who and what is Namtar?” He heard Katherine ask.
“The name of the spirit that killed my mother,” he responded. “After she was taken from me those many years ago, I’ve searched for a suitable master with which to serve, so that I might one day bring an end to those beings Corrupted.”
“Then why didn’t you and Ms Hawthorne just form another bond after this Zu’s passing?” Katherine suggested. “Surely she’d have suited you better as your new master.”
This wasn’t necessarily a silly presumption to make, he considered, but it was also something which proved impossibl
e.
As there had been another reason; a reason which he shuddered to think upon. It was just too much to ask of someone, he thought to himself.
“We are not the Naacal. We cannot just form a new celestial bond on a whim, the toll is already too great,” Monica sternly responded. “Under our current state of consciousness, we can only form a celestial bond with a single guardian once within our lifetime.”
“The toll, what do you mean?” Katherine asked, shaking. “What’s going to happen to me?”
“The price of ascension that comes through the forging of spiritual energies with another,” said Monica. “The strain upon an Indigo’s body is considerable.”
“What are you saying?” Katherine wailed, her stare shifting back and forth between both Anzu and Monica. “What is going to happen to me?”
Anzu hung his head low; he let his golden eyes aimlessly wander over the tiled floor. He dared not look up, consumed with his own guilt.
“Anzu, Ms Hawthorne?” He heard her cry.
“We request much from our fragile bodies; to share in such energy with guardian spirits, to ascend and reach newfound levels of consciousness beyond our physical capabilities can lead to dire consequences,” said Monica.
Katherine sobbed, pressing her hands against her forehead. “What consequences? Please, you must tell me.”
“In the event an Indigo survives the forging of a celestial bond, there remains a chance that the Indigo could face their death earlier than nature had first intended. Many who try and form celestial bonds in the first place often die in the process of making them,” Anzu answered, his talons clenched into fists.
Katherine slumped down on her bed. She glared at the opposite wall without blinking once, numb to her surroundings, and distant from expressing any form of emotion. Anzu dared not read her mind, but he so desperately wanted to know what she was thinking.
Eventually, and after a significant amount of time had passed in which she refused to respond, he couldn’t help himself any longer. But he soon could sense she sought to ask of him whether he knew about the risks involved; of why he hadn’t warned her, and of how long he’d intended to keep the consequences a secret. She gazed down at him, still not offering up much in the way of acknowledgement. He felt her eyes pierce through him as if they were a pair of knives. He kept his head bowed in shame, refusing to exchange eye contact and struggling to conceal of his own emotions. But despite his own feelings of remorse, he knew that had he not acted and formed a celestial bond then and there, this young woman would most certainly have lost her life.
But how can we both move forward? He pondered; if she deems me to be dishonest and unworthy of her trust?
“You have an opportunity to be a part of something bigger than yourself,” he heard Monica proclaim. “There are those innocents who will fall prey to those Corrupted if we’re unable to protect them. We need you.”
Praying that Monica’s word might reach her and revitalize her faltering spirit, Anzu looked intently at Katherine to see if there was any change to her morose demeanour. But all she offered him was a look of defiance.
“I refuse to just be another one of your projects,” she snapped through gritted teeth.
With that, she forced open the bedroom door and went out into the organisation’s main corridor.
Both he and Monica quickly followed; they stood idly observing as she surveyed the walls in search of a means to escape.
I fail to understand her rationale, he thought to himself. What makes her think the organisation will let her leave? Even if she successfully escaped, what would she do when she inevitably resurfaced in the middle of the desert?
And as he’d rightly anticipated, the organisation had no intention of letting her go free. For their path was now impeded; numerous armed operatives were lined across the width of the corridor.
“I am sorry Ms Munroe, but I cannot allow you to leave.” Walter’s raspy voice echoed from out the facility’s internal speakers. “I cannot allow you to compromise the organisation’s secrecy.”
Anzu glanced over at Katherine, pleading she’d come to see sense. Only, she gazed back at him, her eyes watery, with the vain hope he’d help her as a guardian should. But Anzu had chosen his side long ago. He had his own agenda, his own reasons for reuniting with this organisation from his past. He decided to leave Katherine to her own devices, alone in face of this controlling organisation’s firm resistance.
Chapter 13
The day was now nearing its end, and Katherine had barely moved from her bed all afternoon. She had lain there, staring upward at the tiled ceiling, counting the number of grooves in its plaster. But once this had finally grown tiring, she scouted the room in search of something else to better occupy her interest. Now that she was a prisoner, and with ample time at her disposal, she thought back to a more simple life when both she and her father would watch various crime drama’s on the lounge’s old television set.
These shows weren’t exactly what I’d have chosen to watch if given the choice, and all they often served as was an opportunity to procrastinate from doing homework, she remembered. But I really miss it now, knowing we’ll no longer be able to spend any time together.
For it really had developed into one of my favourite pastimes; she thought to herself, there were moments I even considered the possibility of joining the police force as a career. He would have been so proud of me; protecting the innocent, catching the bad guys, and throwing them behind bars…
She glanced down at Anzu, the guardian had not moved from her bedside.
“If you wish to stay here and hunt down these spirits,” she said, now sitting upright. “How can I break our bond and set you free?”
She watched as Anzu clambered to his feet and gazed back at her with firm resolve. “You are now my new master; I only exist to serve,”-
“Enough,” she growled, his words leaving a sour taste in her mouth. For the phrase she felt was utterly demeaning of them both.
I want no part in having a guardian who felt he was nothing more than a servant to our bond, she thought, especially given his earlier actions where he’d decided to side with this ‘Project’.
She heard a loud knock on the bedroom door. But she felt little need to reply.
It’s not as if this organisation has cared for my wishes until now, she remembered.
“Katherine, I apologize for the inconvenience,” said Lance from behind the door. “I am only here to fetch you for dinner.”
“You mean to say I can leave my cell?” Her response dripped with sarcasm.
The door slid open and Lance stepped inside. She pondered at first if it were best to silence him out, only to reconsider and think it more advantageous to test him.
“Lance, may I ask you something?”
“I suppose it depends upon the question,” he replied with an awkward smile.
“Why have you stayed with this organisation for so long?” She asked. “You don’t come across as the kind of person who’d willingly hold a young woman hostage.”
Although clearly unimpressed, Lance barely flinched. He simply looked back at her with the stoic face of a devoted soldier.
“Like it was with you and your father, this is the only place I’ve ever thought of as home,” he said. “Not only that, but I wholeheartedly believe in the importance of this organisation’s cause, and in the protection of those most dear to me.”
His words at least sounded sincere, she decided, but I can’t keep myself from feeling he’s just kowtowing to this ‘Project’s’ wishes.
“You say you believe in their cause, but I believe that even you view their methods as unethical,” she responded. “We don’t know what’s hunting us. We’re treated like lab rats under the façade of a school, and this organisation has proven more than willing to hold captives against their will.”
“I believe the end justifies the means,” he swiftly replied, his reserved composure appearing to crumble. “Anabasis High was specifi
cally established to provide a normal life for those gifted. To give them a safe and meaningful environment where they can learn and reach their true potentials.”
“I took you for a soldier, but now you sound like a salesman,” she mocked.
“I don’t really know what it is you want me to say. Frankly, I can relate to your situation; for I’ve seen far too many innocent people fall prey to the Corrupted. That is what I’m most concerned with, making sure no others are lost by their hand. Not with whether the organisation fails to serve the appropriate moral agenda,” he said, claiming a nearby chair. “I know it’s hard for you to hear, but you’re not the only one to have experienced loss from their hands. Most people party to this organisation have lost a loved one or more to the Corrupted. And you know what really pains me?”
“What?” She asked, only half interested.
“The fact I’m utterly powerless to do a thing about it,” he said. “Yet here you are, granted with the necessary strength. You are someone who can make a difference.”
She found his words unsettling; for she’d received more insight into this young man’s beliefs than she’d bargained for. Until now, Lance had presented such a calm and unfaltering front, yet now he showed signs of vulnerability.
This sense of powerlessness he’d expressed and his desire to protect those he cared about. She pondered. Did he actually believe that the organisation would fare any better if I were to join them?
He arose from his seat and headed for the door. “I’m sorry Katherine if I’ve upset you. I was only to offer you some dinner.”
“Lance, wait. If you don’t mind me asking, it’s just I’m trying to understand,” she replied, figuring how to word her question without upsetting him. “Who have you lost to the Corrupted that has made you feel this way?”
“I have lost many friends and mentors, your father being both,” he responded, momentarily pausing and rubbing at his temple. “And just like you, I too lost my father.”
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