by JK Ensley
“…Like my mother,” Baytac whispered.
“Not exactly. Well, not the conception part.” She swallowed hard. “I loved the man… and he loved us. So much so, his broken heart was cause for his rebellion, his apocalypse.”
“Then… that is why the demons came? Why my mother was…”
She nodded. “Why you were born, yes.”
Baytac’s muscular arms began to tremble.
“It was not by my fault or by my actions, no.” Jenevier took a deep breath. “But, yes… I was indeed the cause of it. Well, the loss of me.”
“Then why didn’t you stop it?” Baytac suddenly yelled. “When you found out he thought you were dead, why didn’t you go to him?”
“I did. But by then, two years had passed. The damage was done.”
“Two years? Why the hell did you wait two whole years?”
“By then I was on Jinn—stolen from my home, hidden by a Shinobi. I knew nothing of Apollyon’s war. Not until the day I faced him in battle. Alas, that does not ease your pain. As I said before, if I could change your world, Baytac, I would.”
The man’s anger slowly engulfed him. Jenevier watched it wash over him in an all-consuming wave.
“Please… don’t do this,” she said. “I only asked for your forgiveness, offered my apolo—”
Her words were cut off when Baytac seized her throat, squeezing. Then, the enraged Elf felt the cold steel of Iole Máni pressed under his chin. His grip slowly began to relax.
“Mind your temper, Brother,” she warned. “If you wish to have a go at me, then let’s do this properly.”
Baytac stepped back. “What are you talking about?”
“If releasing your anger will help you to feel better, then arm yourself. I will fight you… if that is what you want.”
Baytac snorted then spat upon the ground. “Go on. Get out of here. Snapping your tiny sparkling neck won’t change a damn thing. I never want to see you again.”
“As you wish.”
Jenevier once again bowed in her Dragon manner before turning to go. She had only made it a few yards back the way she had come, before Baytac’s pained cries reached her ears, cries soon followed by the familiar thomping of rapid arrows hitting that old stump.
“I guess he decided to work it out on his own. Huh, Taka?”
The little Dragon Pixie purred in response.
She sighed softly. “I guess I’ll be paying for those old sins as long as I yet draw breath. The ripples that war caused… there’ll be no end to them.”
Jenevier had walked near enough to the open field to see the sunlight peeking through the forest’s edge, before she heard the rapidly approaching footsteps. She spun just in time to block Baytac’s blade with her claws.
“I changed my mind,” he hissed.
“Yeah. I can see that.”
When he drew back for his next swing, Jenevier unsheathed Amatiste and countered his attack. The battle was on, and Baytac would not go down easily. The large man matched her, blow for blow. Jenevier had no intention of hurting him. Which was a good thing, seeing as how she had her hands full simply trying to defend herself.
“Baytac, you do realize I am not actually the demon who raped your mother.”
“Perhaps not,” he said through a growl. “But you are the creature who freely offered up responsibility. Now, if you don’t stop holding back, I will kill you.”
“I have no intention of causing you more harm.”
“And I have no intention of mourning your death.”
As Jenevier stepped back to evade his next volley, she stumbled over a fallen tree limb and rolled end over end to the very edge of the forest line.
“Get up!” Baytac charged her as he screamed.
Jenevier did get up—scrambled to her feet and ran a few paces before turning back to face him.
“Don’t make me do this, Brother. Yes, I willingly offered to be the outlet for your rage. But if you try to land a mortal blow, I will stop you… by any means necessary.”
“I told you before, Angel, I am not your brother!”
“But you could be,” she said in a low, pained voice.
When Baytac brought his broadsword down once more, Jenevier blocked the attack with her wing, then instinctively swiped across his lower legs with Amatiste. The giant of a man went down hard.
“Oh my god… Baytac!” She hurried to his side. “I’m sorry. I am so, so sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
Her words were cut off when he once again seized her by the throat.
“I will not go alone, Angel,” he hissed.
Jenevier’s claws were fully extended, but she couldn’t bring herself to deliver the killing blow… even as her vision started to fade.
“Bay… tac…”
Then, she felt the sudden jarring of impact tremors beneath her.
What is… Nilakanta?
The two warriors had indeed ended up in the same field she had only just landed in with her beloved Dragon.
Kagi Naga!
She heard him roar within her just as Baytac screamed and released his strangling grip. Jenevier gasped for air she didn’t need, and the return of her blood circulating that she definitely did.
Nila— No— “Nilakanta, no!”
But her cries came too late. Baytac’s screams had died away. Jenevier hurriedly crawled back over to his charred, stilled form—tears already flooding her cheeks.
“No! Baytac! No!”
Why do you cry for him, Naga? That vile creature was choking the life out of you.
“I know, Brother. I know.” She lightly touched the man’s blackened cheek. “But it wasn’t his fault. He has an innocent heart, Nilakanta. He didn’t mean to—”
Jenevier gasped when Baytac twitched, and then tried to open his one good eye. She clapped her hand over her mouth when she heard the sickening, brittle sound of his charred lid trying to open.
“Oh no,” she whispered. “He isn’t dead. Dear god, Nilakanta… he isn’t dead! He felt that, all of that… is still feeling it!”
The Dragon came and stood over them. Then show him mercy, Little Fire. End his suffering.
“N-no! I c-cannot. How could I do such a—” She began fumbling for the chain around her neck. “I have to concentrate. I have to fix this.”
Naga, what are you doing? He is beyond your help. Show him mercy.
“No!”
Jenevier clumsily fingered through her talismans until she latched onto the locket left to her by her great-grandmother, Bellevine. She popped it open.
“Concentrate. Concentrate. Remember the words. Remember the way Merodach said them. Focus your thoughts, your heart, your intent.”
Naga, what are you—
“Shhh! Not now, Brother. I need only silence.” She closed her eyes. “Intent… Heart… Inflection…”
Then, Jenevier began to speak. She mindlessly rocked as she spoke—reciting the prophetic, ancient words over and over. Her lips didn’t quit moving, her focus never wavered… until she felt a large, soft hand close about her wrist.
“…Angel.”
She stopped, and quickly looked toward the gentle voice.
“Baytac!” She lunged at him, threw her arms around his neck. “Thank God you are all right. Thank God you are whole. I am so sorry, Baytac. Forgive me. I’m sorry you had to endure even more pain because of me.”
“Wha— What did you do to me?”
Jenevier pulled back, wiping away her happy tears. “I didn’t even know if I still could. I have done nothing but take lives for so long… I wasn’t even sure if I could remember how to say the words.”
“I feel… different… strange.” He looked down at his hands. “Something is wrong.”
“Wrong?” Jenevier glanced down at his severed legs. “No… I attached them. I mean… your clothes are all burnt away, yeah. Sorry about that, but the words only restore the flesh. I’ll run and grab a few things from your house.”
Baytac seized her wrist as
she jumped up to go. “No. It’s not my clothes. It’s… my insides. Something is different on the inside.”
He clasped his forehead and winced.
“What is it, Baytac?” Jenevier felt panic begin to rise within her. “Does it hurt?”
He shook his head.
“Here. Let me see.” She gently lifted his chin and turned his face from side to side. “You look fine on the outside, but I am not blessed with the power to see your organs. I must have messed up, somehow.”
She sniffed just as Baytac lightly ran his fingers down her cheek.
“Why do you cry?”
Jenevier sniffed again. “Because… I don’t know how the words work. I only know that, if spoken properly, they restore. I was in a hurry. I panicked. I must have said them wrong. I’ve only caused you more pain. I should have finished you off like Nilakanta told me to. But I just couldn’t. And now… now you’re—”
“Shhh…” He placed a finger to her lips, ceasing her frantic words. “I am not in any pain. My back doesn’t even hurt like it normally does. And there’s one more thing…”
She glanced back up and met his warm gaze.
Baytac smiled. “I can see you now… properly.”
“See me? You mean… you couldn’t see?”
He shook his head. “Not out of my left eye, no. I never have. And lately, my vision had begun to blur in my right.”
“But… if that is true… How were you hitting the bull’s-eye over and over again?”
“Because…” He smiled again. “I’m just good like that.”
Jenevier snorted out a relieved laugh.
“If your words were meant to restore me from the burns, and our battle… how is it I have vision where I never did before?”
She shrugged her shoulders. “Like I said, I’m not entirely certain how it works. All I know is, I have to have my mind focused on what I am asking for. If my heart is pure and I say the words correctly while concentrating on my intent… Father does all the work. He fixes what it is I am asking Him to. I’m just the unworthy conduit.”
“So, you asked for vision in both my eyes?”
“I didn’t know not to. You never told me you were blind, even when I asked.”
“Then… what else did you change?”
She shrugged her shoulders again. “If I didn’t know something was wrong with you, I didn’t ask for it to stay wrong.” She blushed. “I don’t know a lot about Elves. I didn’t really get along with them when last I was here. Kias was the only one I was even halfway nice to.”
“No, Angel.” He squeezed her hand. “Say it isn’t so. Don’t tell me you built me back to be like that dainty little Prince.”
Jenevier giggled. “No. I didn’t build you. I just tried to restore you.”
Baytac blinked a few times and then looked around.
“Oh, there was this one thing,” she said.
He quickly glanced back at her, narrowing his gaze. “What thing?”
“Your hair.” She touched it as she spoke. “I remember you saying you had some bald spots that Jezreel taught you to cover. But since you had your hair in a long braid, I didn’t know where they were. So… I just made sure that I asked for it all back. Oh, but I didn’t change the color.”
“Good.” He smiled. “And… thank you.”
“Don’t mention it. Besides, I like hair.”
“I can tell.” He touched one of her curls. “Glad you didn’t paint mine up like yours, though.”
“Hey, I worked hard to earn these messed-up locks of mine. I deserve every weird color on my head.”
“Yeah… I guess it suits you. I can’t quite figure you out, Angel. You’re different, I’ll give you that.”
Jenevier snorted. “You have no idea. Come on. Let’s get you up and get you dressed.”
“Why did you save me?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“No. I mean… why any of it? Why tell me about your role in the apocalypse? Why offer to fight with me? Then… why save me when you had clearly won? You could have simply walked away and never had to look back.”
“Well, firstly, I told you about Apollyon because I like to be honest with my friends.”
“But… we’re not friends.”
“Oh, hush with that now.” She helped him to his feet. “I knew we would be friends… as soon as you quit judging me based upon my wrapper.”
Baytac snorted out a laugh.
Jenevier bumped him with her shoulder. “We are more than just our skin, Brother.”
“Hey, that’s my line.”
“It works for all of us. You don’t get to own it.” She half smiled. “I offered to fight with you because, well… sometimes we just need to blow off some steam. I knew you could use a good sparring match, after everything I had just laid on you. I just didn’t expect you to be so good at it, or so strong.” She mumbled that last part. “And I saved you because… Jeez, Baytac. I saved you because you needed saving. That’s a stupid question. I couldn’t let you die. I like you too much. I told you before. We’re gonna be friends… no matter how hard you try to fight it.”
He grunted and then yanked one of her curls, pretty hard. Jenevier noticed the blush now covering his cheeks, the embarrassment he was desperately trying to hide as he glanced away. So… she punched his arm as a sort of knowing retaliation, and they made their way back to his house in silence.
*****
“What do you mean; you couldn’t tell my back was twisted? I even told you thus. It was obvious to anyone who looked upon me.”
“What are you getting so angry about?” Jenevier shrugged her shoulders. “I told you I was trying to hurry. Did you want to keep laying there—all burnt up and dying? I honestly couldn’t tell your back was twisted, and I forgot about you mentioning it. I mean… I was a little preoccupied with the whole oh my god, he’s gonna die thing to think clearly. I knew your shoulders were broad, but I thought you were just humped over because you were being so cross and uninviting. Do you want me to try and twist you back the way you were?”
“No! I just… I don’t want to be all pretty and perfect. That’s all.”
Jenevier snorted. “Trust me, Baytac. You are nowhere near pretty. And perfection is highly overrated. I would not curse you thusly.”
“What do you mean, I’m not pretty? Just look at that!” He waved his hand toward the mirror. “I look nothing like myself.”
“Umm… You look pretty much the same to me.”
“Then you were looking at me through magical glasses.”
She crinkled up her nose and smiled. “Yeah… sometimes I do that.”
“I can almost understand why you might have not thought much about my back, or even my legs—seeing as how you’d sliced them off—but my nose. Come on, Angel. You had to know you got my nose wrong.”
“Oh, so no thank you for fixing my aching, twisted back and gimpy short leg. Here, let me see if I can’t find you something else to complain about.” She jerked his hair back. “See. I know I got your crooked ears right.”
Baytac gasped. “By the gods… Woman, what have you done to me?”
“What?” Jenevier looked back into the mirror. “I bent the tips of them… just like you said they were.”
“No, Angel.” He shook his head. “Mine were gnarled at the ends—lumpy and twisted. You have given me Kias’s perfectly pointed ears… just bent the tips out.”
Jenevier bit her bottom lip, then started giggling. “Oh my goodness… you’re right. You’ve got almost perfect Elf ears. Here… let’s see if they are just as sensitive.”
She brushed her fingers along those bent tips. Baytac visibly shivered.
Jenevier laughed. “That’s hysterical. Not only are they sensitive, the points stick out—you’ll be brushing them against everything.”
“And why is that hysterical?”
“I don’t know.” She tried to muffle her laughter. “It just is.”
Baytac sighed and shook his head.
“Hey… listen.” Jenevier turned his chin so he was facing her. “I really didn’t mean to change your back and your leg. That was a total mistake. I promise.” She tucked his hair back behind his ears. He shivered again. “But I really did try to leave your ears and your eyes the way I thought they were. I wasn’t trying to change you, Baytac. Only heal you.”
The large Elf didn’t answer, only gazed back at her.
“I thought you were just fine when I met you. Perhaps a little gruff and coarse, yeah, but I see you the same now as you were then. Well… except the nose. I will admit to doing that on purpose.”
“But, why?” He furrowed his brow, a pained look flashing within his dark eyes. “Why did you want to change me? Even a little.”
“Well now, that really has nothing to do with you, Baytac. The nose thing—that’s all me.”
“What do you mean?”
Jenevier smiled. “I’ve got this thing about noses. I think there is nothing more attractive than a man with a strong, sharp nose. I wasn’t intentionally thinking I wanna change his nose. I just naturally pictured the nose I prefer. Then… you got it.”
“And what about the hair?”
“Hey, I already admitted to the hair thing. I didn’t even change the color. I left you all black. If I was really gonna change something on purpose, it would have been those creepy Elf eyes of yours.” She shuddered. “I hate looking into those things.”
“You hate my eyes?”
“All Elf eyes—solid black with bright grey centers.” She shuddered again. “I was cursed with eyes akin to those once. Eyeballs should be white. End of story.”
Baytac chuckled then. “So you don’t think I’m pretty?”
“Not in the least. But I admire the hell out of your strength, Brother. You are one awesomely fierce opponent.”
“Not true.” He snorted. “Once you got serious, you took both my legs with a single strike.”
“Eh, that’s got nothing to do with your strength, Brother. That’s my job. It’s what I do, what I was built for.”
“Chopping folk’s legs off?”
Jenevier snickered. “No. Killing them. Reaping their wicked souls.”