HAGEN: 1. Revelations

by Jadhe HAMILTON

  With a sad look in her eyes, Emily left the group and walked over to her:

  “Tara…”

  “I’ll go with you to my apartment,” she interrupted immediately, hoping to put an end to her embarrassment.

  Not expecting such a positive turn of events, Emily stopped dead in her tracks.

  “Well,” she said surprised. “That's good news.”

  “I don't know why you're doing this to me...” Tara continued, distraught. “First you stab me, then you make me an accomplice in the murder of a man, and now you’re isolating me from my loved ones and my home... I believe that you have your reasons and I've decided to trust you. I just hope I'm not making a mistake and that you're not doing all of this out of pure sadism.”

  “Tara,” Emily said in a grief-stricken voice. “How can you think we'd do anything to hurt you?”

  “I don't know! Maybe because you tied me to a chair and tortured me like a prisoner of war!”

  “And we're sincerely sorry!” apologized Emily. “Death was the only means by which your soul could exit your body: your spiritual capacities weren’t developed enough for you to do it on your own. It would have taken months, or even years...”

  “If you say so,” replied Tara, who still couldn’t forgive their brutal gesture. “You waited for over two hundred years, don’t you think you could have waited a few more months? And why do you want to continue torturing me? Why are you keeping me here like a prisoner?”

  “You're not a prisoner Tara... This is only temporary. We're just keeping you safe until you're able to face the threats that will undoubtedly come your way...”

  Threats... The people who killed a human being in cold blood, claiming to be acting on a divine mission, were now declaring that they wanted to protect her from an imminent threat. That was the height of absurdity!

  “So far, the only threats that have come my way were from you. But I’ve decided to trust you anyway, even if I don't think I'm the person you're looking for. However, I refuse to be your plaything. I won't let myself be tortured by you. You may be able to kill human beings without batting an eyelid, but if you ever come after me, you won't stand a chance!”

  “Being a seraph is not a choice,” Nina reminded her in a sanctimonious tone. “Diane abandoned all of us. And when you finally get a chance to make up for it, you reject us all, your own legionaries.”

  “You're talking to me about a woman I don't even know!” replied Tara, fed up of being associated with Diane. “I'm not that woman, I'm Tara Châvignier!”

  “I'm not talking to you about a woman,” corrected Nina, as if she had committed blasphemy. “I'm talking about the greatest and most beautiful seraph the Sphere has ever known. And for the moment,” she added rancorously, “you’re far from being worthy of her.”

  “That's enough!” interrupted Mark with his husky and penetrating voice. “You owe her respect. Don't forget that you belong to her.”

  Everyone fell silent. The man they called the Viking rarely intervened. His words came as a surprise to everyone.

  Standing up straight, his arms folded against his chest, he continued his discourse, choosing each of his words carefully:

  “She has watched over us for centuries. The least we can do is watch over her now.”

  “As far as I'm concerned, that’s never been the case.”

  “Whose fault is that?”

  “What are you implying?” asked Nina insolently, offended by Mark’s comment.

  Tara could see the fire burning in Nina's gaze when all of a sudden, she saw the whites of her eyes turn black and her irises lighten. She knew she wouldn’t hesitate to attack the legionary, even though her small build and slender arms contrasted considerably with the Viking’s imposing muscles. She wasn’t even half his size.

  “Nina,” Emily called out.

  “I won't let anyone imply such a thing,” replied Nina angrily, as she approached Mark.

  Tara detected a tremor in Nina's voice. She didn't know if it was anger or grief. Though she was impressed by the two missionaries’ difference in size, she could also sense the difference in power emanating from their respective auras.

  “That's enough!” Emily cried as she intervened. “Don't let your emotions overwhelm you Nina. Go and pick up Tara's things and make her feel comfortable in our home. It's the least you can do for her.”

  “You can all go without me,” replied Nina, taking her eyes off Mark. “I’ve got better things to do than take care of your new burden.”

  Putting her words into action, she walked over to the cream-colored sofa and picked up her backpack. A few seconds later, she was out the door and out of their sight.

  “She's not very patient,” said the old man, whose gaping eye sockets pointed in the direction of the front door.

  “Stanislas, I hope you're not going to start now too,” Emily sighed.

  The old man smiled, amused, as he walked slowly towards the kitchen. When he passed in front of Emily he said in a falsely plaintive voice:

  “We’re not even allowed to express ourselves in this house anymore,” before disappearing into the hallway.

  After a short silence, Emily turned to Hugo and Mark. She was obviously trying her best to move things in the right direction:

  “All right you two, take Tara to her apartment and help her pack the things she needs.”

  “I'm coming too,” said John, taking position next to Mark.

  “Do you really think you can carry a forty-five-pound box?” mocked Hugo as he crossed his muscular arms. “We need strong men for a move.”

  “John, you're not going with them,” interrupted Emily, who gave Hugo a dirty look. “I need you to go to the bank to make arrangements for Tara.”

  John didn’t respond. Tara guessed that he was wondering if Van der Worthen was sending him to the bank because she also believed he was too weak to help Hugo and Mark with the move. But in the end, he gave up, preferring to avoid another conflict:

  “Alright, I'll go to the bank, but I demand a little more respect from Hugo.”

  “You're right,” approved Emily. “Hugo! Apologize to him.”

  “Exactly how old are we here?” exclaimed Hugo, amused. “It's like being in kindergarten!”

  “That's exactly the level I would attribute to your behavior,” replied Emily, determined to make him show more respect towards John.

  “I refuse to apologize to that sissy!” exclaimed Hugo outraged. “He's not even capable of getting respect without your help!”

  “I'm giving you an order Hugo. John is one of my legionaries, as are you...”

  “Forget it,” interrupted John as he walked out the door. “I don't want him saying he’s sorry just because you forced him to. I'll see you tonight.”

  With those words, the young man disappeared down the stairwell. Immediately, Emily turned to Hugo and scowled at him:

  “You seem to be forgetting who you are.”

  “I know very well who I am,” replied Hugo, still amused by what had just happened.

  “You're just behaving that way out of pride. But don’t forget, John's body may be weaker than yours in this lifetime, but he’s your equal in the Sphere.”

  “So now we're not allowed to joke about each other's incarnations anymore?”

  “You can joke all you want, so long as you’re not hurting the person you're joking about. You’ve made your contempt towards John quite clear, but you’re the only one laughing at your jokes. You’re disrupting the cohesion in my ranks; therefore, I want you to start considering John with more respect. And that’s an order!”

  “I'm disrupting the cohesion,” repeated Hugo, holding back his laughter. “Okay, I'll apologize, even though he shouldn't be needing your help to earn my respect.”

  “He shouldn’t have to earn your respect. You're both members of the Fifth Legion, you owe each other your sacred mutual respect. You seem to be the only one who's not up to the task right now.”

  Hugo didn’t
answer, visibly offended. From the kitchen, they could hear Stanislas’ voice, still as amused as he was earlier:

  “What an atmosphere this morning! Tara, you’ve brought fire into this house!”

  Desperate, Emily rolled her eyes and went to join him. This eventful morning had somewhat reassured Tara: despite their angelic essence and their cruel acts, Emily Van der Worthen and her team were still human beings. They were far from being perfect. Mark, the great Viking, didn’t seem to be as powerful as Nina, the young woman who looked so frail besides him; Hugo, though he was very intelligent, prided himself on his physical strength, while John was as gentle as a lamb. Lastly, Nina, who had first fascinated her in her role as a coach, had a tongue that was sharper than a dagger and didn’t hesitate to use her words against anyone who made the mistake of provoking her.

  Once she was dressed and ready, Tara set off to accompany Hugo and Mark to her apartment. To her surprise, Emily owned the entire underground parking lot of their building. Motorcycles, sports cars, mini vans… The missionaries had a collection of vehicles that was truly impressive, in both richness and diversity.

  For the move, they chose an already damaged red van. The three of them all climbed into the front seat together. Tara was in the middle, cramped between the two mountains of muscle who were acting as bodyguards as well as movers that day. During the entire drive, Hugo asked her a multitude of questions about her personal life and her family. Embarrassed, she answered his questions politely, but remained as evasive as possible.

  When they arrived at her door, she hesitated to insert the key into the lock. She felt a strange emotion, as if by inviting her companions in, she was inviting them into her life and allowing them to turn it upside down. Nonetheless, Mark's powerful presence behind her left her with little choice.

  When she opened the door and discovered her beautiful apartment, cozy and comfortable and decorated to her taste, she immediately felt at home. She felt a twinge of sadness in her heart when she realized she had come to say goodbye.

  “It's cute here!” exclaimed Hugo, walking in ahead of her. “I understand why you don't want to move.”

  Suddenly, Tara was overcome with a terrible sense of guilt. Having been stabbed and sequestered, she had totally forgotten about her cat. Panicked, she ran through her apartment shouting his name: “Max!”

  She looked on her couch and between the cushions, hoping not to find a big motionless ball of fur. Not having returned home for several days, Max must have died of dehydration and starvation. Moreover, she thought, if he was still alive, he would have thrown himself at her, begging for food. But instead, there was no sign of him.

  “Max!” she cried out again in despair.

  Riddled with remorse, she rushed into the kitchen to see if there was still food and water in his bowls. When she realized they were both so empty that they looked perfectly clean, she knew that poor Max had surely scoured them in despair. Standing behind her, Hugo and Mark watched her in her frenzy, torn between surprise and amusement. Completely crushed, Tara turned to them with tears in her eyes:

  “My cat is dead!”

  “You won’t know,” replied Hugo, perfectly insensitive to the fate of her cat, “until you find its body…”

  His lack of compassion revolted Tara, who exploded with anger:

  “He hasn't had any food or water in five days!”

  “If you had told us you had a cat, we would have come here to feed it,” he replied without feeling the least bit guilty.

  “Really? While I was in a coma as a result of your wonderful welcome? It's my fault then, I should have woken up sooner!”

  “Yesterday you had all the time in the world to think about your cat.”

  “Oh, that's right, how could I have been so distracted by the brutal murder of that chemist!”

  “It wasn't a brutal murder,” corrected Hugo, who insisted on being recognized for the meticulousness of his work.

  “Your cat isn't dead,” interrupted Mark, staring at Tara straight in the eyes. “It would take more than five days of fasting to kill an animal. He’s probably just in a deep sleep.”

  Tara didn't answer but she looked at Mark with hope. He was probably right. Without further delay, she rushed to her bedroom, only to find her bed intact with no trace of Max.

  “Have you looked in the closet?” asked Hugo as he joined her. “Usually...”

  But Tara didn't wait for him to finish his sentence. She knew where Max was. Instantly, she opened the closet and found her cat huddled up at the far end:

  “My cashmeres,” she exclaimed lovingly, relieved to have found him.

  Upon hearing her voice, the cat opened its eyes and looked up. With a severe look, he let out a powerful meow of reproach. His owner was most definitely not taking care of him as well as she used to.

  “I'm so sorry,” she said, reaching her arms out to retrieve him. “Come, it’s time to eat.”

  To make up for her negligence, she offered Max a feast fit for a king.

  After finding her bearings in her apartment and offering a cup of coffee to her two missionaries, she got to work. As planned, she packed her most important belongings into boxes that she would take with her to Van der Worthen’s place.

  The night she had spent with the two guardian angels hovering over her had been terrible, she had hardly slept a wink. She had heard their wings flapping and their whispering and cackling all night long, so much so that she was now dead tired, despite the cup of coffee she had just swallowed. Moreover, she knew she would have to put up with them for an indefinite period of time. She despised the mere thought of it.

  Almost dozing off as she was packing her things, Hugo unexpectedly knelt beside her:

  “Are you taking this with you?” he joked, grabbing her pink and white garter belt.

  “Behave yourself!” ordered Mark dryly, as he took one of the heavy boxes down to the van.

  Tara blushed: she understood that she would no longer have any intimacy. This angel seemed to take the needs of the flesh very lightly. While Mark disappeared down the stairs with the box, Hugo got closer to her:

  “I'm not against it, you know. I've always been attracted to women who know how to put their best features forward.”

  “Good for you,” replied Tara without even looking at him. “But it remains to be seen if women like men like you...”

  “What a question!” replied the young man laughing. “We angels possess such a luminous aura that human beings are inevitably attracted to us. We’re naturally beautiful. Women throw themselves at me like flies.”

  “That’s very modest of you,” remarked Tara, as she moved her underwear out of his sight.

  “It's a fact.”

  “If I'm not mistaken, you still have some boxes to bring down to the van. You brag so much about being strong, you should be helping Mark.”

  As she continued to sort through her things, she waited for Hugo to get up. However, the young man didn’t seem to want to leave her side. Annoyed, she looked at him insistently, urging him to go. In response, and as if to exasperate her even more, Hugo didn’t move. Instead, he stared deep into her eyes, with a charming Casanova-like air about him. Was he really trying to seduce her?

  “Aren't I your commander?”

  “Am I doing something wrong?”

  Shocked by his change of attitude, Tara preferred to ignore him and finish packing her underwear. It was only when he heard Mark coming that Hugo got up and went to get a box.

  After her clothes, Tara collected the picture frames that sat next to her bed. The people who mattered most to her watched over her while she slept every night: her dead parents, her little sister and her four-year-old niece, a joyful little blonde girl with a smile that burst with innocence. Thinking back to what the angels had told her, she was overcome with deep sadness. If what they said was true, these people that were so dear to her would only count for her in this lifetime. In her future lives, she would completely forget them.

/>   She couldn't help but sigh at the thought. Her mother who had given birth to her, her sister who was also her best friend and with whom she had spent her entire childhood... All these memories would disappear and would have no significance in her following lives. It was hard for her to believe: if this was really the case, should she love these people so much if they were only going to be a part of her life for a few years, before she went back to the void without a trace of memory? Should her love for her mother be so powerful if she only gave birth to her in this life; knowing that another woman would give birth to her in her next life and have the same bond of motherly love with her, as though she were the first and the last?

  She was lost. If all this was true, and she knew deep down inside that it was, she realized that everything in which she had always had unwavering faith, was just an illusion... Now that she was aware that the people she loved so much today, would be no more than strangers in her next life, did love still have the same meaning?

  Unsettled, she sat for a moment contemplating her little sister's smile. Should she stop loving her family so much? Was there any way she could make sure she never forgot them?

  Suddenly she had a painful pang in her heart: if she had parents in this life, she had also had parents in her previous lives. Men and women who had loved her unconditionally, who would have moved Heaven and Earth for her, who had cherished her like she was the seventh wonder of the world. She herself had certainly loved them more than anything else in the world and yet, she couldn’t remember them now! What an ungrateful thing reincarnation is! What a masquerade! No sooner did she change bodies than she forgot those who had sacrificed their lives for her. Who were these people who had taken care of her across the centuries? Had they reincarnated too? Could she see them again to thank them one day?

  Feeling hopeless, she remained kneeling in front of her bedside table, mute as a gravestone. A few minutes later, she heard Hugo enter the apartment. Not wanting him to see her like this, she quickly got up and turned her back, holding the portrait of her little niece in her hand. Every time she looked at it, her heart felt torn to shreds. Was loving her family so important if it only counted in this lifetime? What was the point of taking all these pictures with her?