The Keeper was tall, thin, and translucently pale. He wore a black velvet hooded cloak that covered his entire body. Though you saw little open skin, you could tell that he had no other clothing on underneath the cloak. He only had one eye. This eye focused his sight with hyper sensitivity. He didn't like to tell many people, but he could see far behind Aurora Boreal. He could even see into other dimensions with no problem. His sight transcending the different realms the Worlds were built within. He could see nearly as much as the Nexus. But one thing he couldn't do was touch anything or anyone he saw. He truly was a ghost in that regard. It left him lonely when Cris was expelled, never to return. Until today, that is.
"Comeback down the staircase, Gavin. I want to properly introduce you to someone. Cris grabbed Corinth from behind him and pulled him out in front. He whispered, "be polite, he's a good friend of mine.”
Corinth didn't know if he could, but he figured he'd give it a try anyways. Gavin pulled himself off the top stair, just before the landing, and began to slink back down. His movement crept Corinth out. He looked like a deer that just got hit by a car, and was now making the long journey back to its herd with a signature limp. He moved slow and purposeful. Corinth thought that Gavin didn’t look like he had legs underneath that cloak. He just waft his way over the cobblestones like a taut gas form of a one-eyed man. Corinth was too impatient to wait for him to reach that next stone landing where they stood, so he left his father, and walked up a few steps himself. At first, Gavin recoiled. But he quickly understood Corinth's intent.
"Hello, Sen. Gambit," the slinky shadow-man, who had no feet, said while lifting his rigid looking hand to shake Corinth's. Criston looked on with a knowing smirk, but didn't say a word. Corinth hesitated but figured, what's the worst that could happen? He knew his dad was there to protect him. Corinth extended his hand, and as it met with the Keeper’s, it fell straight through. Like it wasn't even there. Corinth fell onto the steps because he leaned inward to shake. He lost his footing when he wasn't met with any counterweight from another hand there to hold him in position. Both the Keeper and Criston burst out laughing as Corinth jumped up and ran back to his father's side.
He watched the shadow-man share in a joke with his dad, and thought it was the weirdest thing. So, to help him understand, the Nexus, whispered in his mind. "Ghost have senses of humor too." Corinth frowned for my statement at first, then gently smiled, looking on at Gavin with an entirely new perspective. His first two days at Aurora Boreal he thought Gavin was a monster. But today, maybe a friend.
The sloth like sleuth worried now as he noticed something he hadn't seen before. "Your hand, old friend ... it is missing?"
Cris looked down at the spot that used to hold his right hand. He had forgotten, because of the severe lack of pain. It was almost like it never happened, that is until Gavin reminded him.
"I'm sorry, friend, I didn't mean to cause you any form of grief," he said with a guilty tone.
"No, it’s no fault to ask a question," Criston informed him."You’re concerned, I get it. It’s just that I don't know what to say about it."
"Then say nothing, my friend. Not at least until you're ready," Gavin smiled, and Corinth thought he looked even uglier when he was happy.
Criston smiled at Gavin and came over to give him an air hug. That was the best he could do, considering the Keeper is destined to forever live in the tower as a shadow of a man, for the sake of sight. No other senses existed much in this reality for him. He couldn't smell, taste, hear well, or feel another's touch. The only thing he was good at was seeing things far and wide. But it wholly satisfied him to know that at least one person thought about him in a good way. Criston was good at making others feel good.
Corinth looked at their relationship and thought that it'd be a good idea to get close to Gavin at some point. If not only to hear past stories about his dad. Naturally… so he could use them against his father. But Corinth figured it would take some time before he could warm up to the Keeper of the Watchtower. If only he wasn't so frighteningly ugly looking. And it didn’t help, his living alone in a creepy, sinister looking high-rising tower.
"Now go, Sena. Hendrix has already started to waiver in her patience," Gavin's words were so very true. He could see her turning to walk her way up the rest the hill she stood on, formerly waiting for the two of them. So they left the tower, they left Gavin alone again, as usual. But he at least felt something, for the first time in a long while, knowing his friend, Criston, was back in the game.
Chapter 8:
Getting Hands On With Fate
March 31, 1002 ~ Nightfall
"Why's she walking away from us?" Corinth asked his dad.
Cris told him, "it's because she's used to being in control. The minute someone tries to turn the tables on her she gets ... uneasy." Corinth couldn't help but wonder how his dad knew so much about his teacher. A teacher that hasn't taught him in over a decade and a half. "She'll come around eventually, trust me." Cris looked down into Corinth's turquoise eyes, and smiled as he put his left arm around his shoulder.
They walked onward, trying to catch up with Sena. Hendrix without having to jog up right next to her. She was too fast paced for that to work out, so they started to move faster. They were just a few spacious yards behind her, when Corinth noticed another person on the grounds.
"Who's that?" he asked, looking eagerly over the varied distance of grass and assorted trees.
Cris looked over to the direction he pointed in. He recognized the figure strolling through the fields in a carefree manner. He vaguely remembered this person had a crush on Julia that never set well with him, among other awkward things the guy was known for when they were schooled together. "His famed family name is; The Well Read Walker."
"What's he doing?" Cory spat out without thinking near a thought prior to opening that unnerving mouth of his.
Cris thought that was a weird question. He looked over to Walker in the open fields against the sunset, and then back to Corinth. "After I just told you his full name and title, you don't know what he's doing," he said to the boy with a fatherly frown.
Corinth couldn't help it. He just didn't get what this guy’s deal was. He and some green furred dog were just walking through the meadow with a book in hand. The dog looked dingy and scruffy enough that Corinth assumed it was a homeless man's pet. But this Walker guy didn't look to be very homeless. He just strolled there next to the dog. He held a book in one hand, and a green apple in the other. Every few seconds, he'd do one of two things. Either he’d flip a page in the thick book he was holding up to read, or he'd take a big bite out of his juicy fruit snack. He wore dark green pants that had some faint gray pattern going through them. He also had on a brown plaid shirt, tucked neatly into the pants. A collared shirt, but he had it unbuttoned to the point that it was very noticeable that he had a plain white t-shirt on underneath. He had a friendly face, so Corinth decided he'd go talk to the fellow.
"What are you doing?" Cris noticed Corinth as he began veering away from their intended path.
"I want to go talk to this guy and see what he's about," Corinth informed his prying father. "If you’re going to just leave me here I should at least know what I'm in store for, right dad?" Cris' face frowned up even more when he said that. Corinth was playing a little mind game. Using what he already knew, from entering his dad's thoughts, against him.
Cris took a second to close his eyes and take a deep breath. As his lungs began to decompress from exhaling that huge collection of air, he started to speak quietly. "Okay, okay, I get it. You're right, and it’s probably best that I talk to Sena. Hendrix alone anyway."
He was peering into his son's eyes through the glare of the sunlight. He put his left hand up against his forehead to block some of the fading glory of the twilight. A few beads of sweat rolled down his forehead, behind his hand pressed up against it, and edged their way into his eyes. It stung pretty bad.
"Ah! Oh, crap that burns!" Cris snapped a
round, away from Corinth, when the sweat infiltrated his eyes. He rubbed vigorously, trying to settle the sting. When he turned back to the direction of the sun, and his son, the celestial figure was still there in the distant sky, but the kid was gone. Corinth had once again taken it upon himself to disregard his father's—everything.
Corinth was walking through the distance of the green meadow toward The Well Read Walker, when something mysterious grabbed his right shoulder. "Ah!" Corinth jumped, screamed, and turned around in horror. His screech was so loud that even Walker pulled his head out of his book, and looked up to see the commotion. Luckily, for Corinth, the hand that firmly grasped his shoulder was only his dad's.
"You didn't exactly get permission to just walk away!" Criston had a rather annoyed looked about his face, as he hysterically gasped, trying to catch his breath. He sprinted after Corinth to intercept him before he reached Walker. He was still considerably tired and run down from all the events of the last week or so. He took his hand off Corinth’s shoulder, and then unpleasantly doubled over. Still very winded, though he only ran a few yards.
"You okay, dad?" Corinth said without any sensation of concern in his voice.
"Are you? That's a much better question, kid. I can't take all this nonsense with the walking away while I'm talking to you, and the saying whatever you want to me, like you’re suddenly an adult. I'm your dad, Cory," he was still breathing hard as he choked out the last sentence of his appeal to his son's more respectful side.
"Yeah, I know." Corinth started off explaining himself slowly. "But ..." he hesitated to say it, but he knew it was imperative that he articulate this message. He had to get this across to his father's wiser side. "But you don't seem to understand that I'm not exactly that little boy you knew two years ago." Criston heard that loud and clear. It put him back on track with his breathing. He stood upright, as he was very intrigued by his son's assertion that he lacked a certain understanding. "I may have been in a coma, but I wasn't dead. I grew physically, mentally, and yes even emotionally. I'm just trying to get settled in to my own skin again. And I know that I'm going to be doing that mostly on my own, here at this school." Corinth took a look around at the grounds of the large school as he spoke of it encouragingly. "Put yourself in my shoes, and think about it. I know I'm still only twelve, but I’m not a baby, like you and mom always treat me."
All Cris could make out was, "message well received." He was otherwise stunned silent by-his son's ability to transform into a much more mature version of himself on command. Cris just looked down at his feeble twelve-year-old son and said, "then go on, I see you've got this under control." Corinth smiled and started walking away again. "Wait! One more thing." Cris interrupted Cory’s short-lived moment of superiority. "You must not, under any circumstances, mention that the dog there is a mangy mutt."
Corinth looked at his dad with squinted eyes. "What do you mean?"
"What I mean is that he'll flip out on you if you call that dog anything but the most beautiful creature you've ever laid eyes on." Corinth glanced over at the pup walking on the grass and bending down to chew at will. He thought that it'd be hard to look at things that way. He felt like he was about to have another, Gavin, The Watcher, situation just outside the Watchtower walls. "You got it?" his dad pressed on.
Corinth didn't turn his line of sight from the ruff looking pooch when he answered. "Yeah, I think I can manage."
They parted ways for now. Criston knew that it was he who had the harder feat to pull off, but still he wanted Corinth to get settled just as badly as Corinth wanted to feel settled.
He had to catch up with a nonstop train headed for the Diamond Atrium. Sena. Hendrix’s house felt very inviting to her after the day she had with an ever questioning Corinth. She knew he was confused, but she didn't know how much longer she could stand his constant need for an explanation to everything. She took the long way to get to the three dorm buildings and the main class building that formed the diamond shape of the atrium that surrounded her home. Cris was right, she did take that path on purpose. She couldn't leave without first talking with her favorite pupil ever. That was out of the question, but she did always like to keep him on his toes. Cris caught up with her quickly, but it came at a price.
"Breathing harder than usual, Sen. Gambit?" she asked a rhetorical question that Cris decided to answer.
"I wouldn't be breathing so..." he had to stop and take a huge gulp of air into his lungs. Again, he doubled over fighting for oxygen. Sena. Hendrix hovered over him with a smug look that actually had a slight resemblance to sorrow. She wasn't very good at expressing those types of emotions. It came off a tad bit haughty. "…so out of breath if you'd just talk to me in the hospital room—up in the tower."
"Well, if I'd done that, Corinth wouldn't have gotten this opportunity to see the school grounds close up, and mingle with some of its more lively characters. Like, Gavin and The Well Read Walker fellow his chatting it up with right now," she was speaking in that know-it-all manner that Criston had grown accustom to over the years.
"You could have been showing him around during the two days I was out of commission."
Sena. Hendrix now looked on at Criston with a more disappointed look in her icy blue stare. It’s as if she wanted him to see beyond himself, and more clearly into the realm of possibility. Cris wasn’t a visionary. He was a problem solver, but never saw pass the issues themselves. Problem, solution, and done. That’s why he never did well in Sena. Hendrix's premonitions course.
"Are you a willing idiot, or are you just naturally stupid?" she said with a resolute tone. She gazed across the grounds at a more simplified Corinth talking with that bibliophile, Walker, that she never trusted, but held high hopes that she could one day.
"Mom, there's only but so many of those hits I can take before it starts to get personal," he challenged her with sensitivity.
"Nonsense!" her tongue chirped in a mocking fashion.“I have my reasons, as always.”
Criston decided to stand up tall, and present himself as a respectable figure in Sena. Hendrix's eyes. He caught his breath, and pushed past the insults being hailed at him, into more personal territory. "I've been through a lot these past days and I—"
"Ha-Ha!" Sena. Hendrix was overcome with giddiness as she listened to her selfish former pupil try to appeal to her sensitive side. The problem there, she doesn't have one. A cold calculating woman indeed.
Cris looked on as she snickered and giggled at him. He was attempting to explain his position in all this. Just as his son had just done with him. But there was no reasonable response from Sena. Hendrix, not like he'd given to Corinth. No, she just looked right through him, as if he were some mischievous sewer rat in her eyes. Graveling, simply to get a sample bite of praise from this monstrous excuse for a woman. A woman that could not be pleased by simple applause alone. She wanted an encore presentation from Criston. But with a different act entirely.
"It's personal now, you've made that more than clear," he told the woman glaring at him in addition to the sinister grin twisted around her lips. He turned away in disgust. "Why does it always have to be this way with you?"
Sena. Hendrix looked on at the man she viewed as still a boy, and felt regret. Regret that she hadn't taught him any better in so many different ways. "You play the fool all too well!" Cris turned back to her, rubbing his left hand over his forehead. "Has it not occurred to you how scared your son is? He is the one who's been through so much, not you my dear boy. As sorry as I am to admit it, you've turned out to be a horrible father." She was cutting in deep, but Cris decided to take it on the chin for now. "That boy over there in the meadow, he refused to leave your side the entire time. He could not be coaxed out of that room up there in the tower. He wanted to be a part of your healing process.” She grabbed her own head, like she was going to twist it off.“Mind numbing question after question. When is my dad going to wake up? What are you putting in his arm? Are you sure that’s facing the right direction? His
display of affection for you was, and is, undying. Even as you constantly disregard his deeper feelings at every turn." With every word, she inched closer and closer to her son, who she's been disregarding since his first breath. "Perhaps, I'm partly to blame for some of your failings as a parent."
She turned away, and began to pace intently from the nearest oak tree back to Criston, and then round about again. Criston began to think back to the days when his mother chose to work rather than dine with him, Evan, and his father.
"I wasn't there for you much once I achieved the GM position," Sena. Hendrix admitted genuinely. She quick stepped back to Cris like a lightning bolt, and got right in his face. "I never wanted to hurt you, your father, or even that little street orchid you call a brother, Evan. The three of you were my life, but the demands of this position were never to be taken lightly. So, I took on as much as I could manage. At the expense of family, of course."
"Well, it’s nice to finally hear you say it. I suppose it’s better than nothing." Cris felt sick to his stomach to rehash those faraway feelings.
Original Souls (A World Apart #1) Page 15