Beneath the Vail

Chapter Five

Chapter Five

I stared at the empty doorway; do I follow? Clairvoyants are few and far between much like the sânge, could she be trusted? Looking into the future was always unpredictable, but she could have the answers, could help me fill in the persistent blanks in my memories. I have no choice but to trust the hex, she gains nothing by lying to me. Pushing open the small sliding door to the closet which was more of a cupboard I grabbed my small black duffle. My belongings were limited to a few pairs of jeans and a few long sleeves, nearly everything I grabbed varied in shades of charcoal gray and black. Only the essentials, I did however have one item of sentimental value, a photo.

Pictured were both my parents, Sarah and myself. Where my parents once were, two charred marks remained to replace whatever sardonic expression would've sat upon their faces. I don't remember the day the photo was taken, the instance nor do I have many memories of my family. They traveled extensively when I was a child, and after their deaths just over a year ago, I repressed whatever memories I did have; or at least that is what professor Freling has explained. From what I can recall they did not get along well, my mother a Sânge and my father a Haruspex; the two least common of Hecs, also the two least compatible.

From my research, I gathered that while on paper a Haruspex and a Sânge might make sense considering they both involve blood rights and sigils. Together they create a zealot. Haruspex were notorious in Roman civilization with their interpretations of omens from the intestines of animals, they soon disappeared after becoming more fanatical. Needless to say, my father from what I can remember also became more radical in his beliefs. Unfortunately, madness is a symptom of being one of them. When in Rome, right?

I stared at the damaged photo, my lip quivering at the sight of Sarah's bright smile. It did not reach her eyes. Were we ever happy? I've tried countless times to remember something, anything about that night, something other than the carnage and pools of blood that plague my nightmares. What went so wrong? Light tapping on my open door pulled me from my reverie, I wiped the tears from my damp cheeks.

Turning to face the mystery guest, I shoved the photo in my back pocket, "Yes?"

"I should apologize for my previous transgressions this morning— "

"Just this morning?" I crossed my arms.

His sigh, exasperated, "For all transgressions that I made against you— "

"I find it quite hypocritical of you to hate me so much, to hate Hecs so much only to turn around and work with one. A Clairvoyant no less." I stood close enough to see his jaw clenching and unclenching. "Explain that to me Vulkan."

He rubbed his beard a few times, the exhaustion showing on his face, rings of fatigue under his eyes. "Saana. I am trying to apologize if you would let me. I let my anger take hold of my mind and acted inappropriately. You are under no obligation to forgive me but know that I ask for it." A light shadow of a bruise was forming on his cheek, and I'm sure I had one to match. I nodded silently in response, he seemed genuine in his apology, but I wouldn't give him the satisfaction to know I am the forgiving type. Almost to a fault.

I let out a breath that I didn't realize I had been holding, stress chipped away at any emotional restraint I may have had left. I have no choice but to help the clairvoyant and the wolf before me. I could not return to the asylum it was not an option. I could feel his gaze burning a hole into the side of my face, I looked up catching his eye, "I don't hate you." His voice was hushed, barely above a whisper.

I grabbed my duffle, "What?"

He shook his head and proceeded out of the door, arching a brow I followed him and headed into uncertainty. Awkwardness filled the mostly empty dormitory hall as we walked in complete silence. My heart thumped roughly in my chest, anxiety bubbling inside of me as we came upon the Hecs door. To my surprise he grabbed the iron knob, the top of the fox's nose pricked his palm, such as it had mine earlier. The multitude of locks began retracting as his skin simply seemed to mend. My mouth hung open as he walked ahead of me. There is more to the Lycan than I once thought.

"H-How did you?" I motioned to the now-closed door as we continued walking.

He cleared his throat, "There is something we must do before I explain anything to you." He grabbed ahold of my arm, pulling me down a side hall away from the main hall. His grip was firm but gentle, he seemed to be in a hurry almost frantic as he continued to lead me. We came upon another small hallway too narrow for him to fit comfortably. We emerged into a small opening before a large oak door, from his pocket he pulled an old iron key adorned with a familiar symbol. Though I could not place the sigil-like bend of the adornment it planted a seed in my mind, one that would root deeply as I pondered its appearance.

He motioned for me to follow, inside the room I realized it was an office, bookshelves lined the walls, and a massive mahogany wood desk sat in the alcove of a bay window. He walked to the other side of the desk pulling a sheathed blade from the drawer. Adrenaline began its course working its way throughout my body, a familiar tremor set in, slowly I backed away.

"Do you recognize this blade?" He pulled it from the aged leather case, the blade itself was a short flamberge dagger. The curves of the metal reminded me of flames flickering in a light breeze.

The small of my back pressed into the iron doorknob, "I-it's a flamberge, a wave-blade dagger."

Tsk. Tsk. "That isn't what I meant, and I think you know that Saana. Consider my curiosity piqued, how is it you know of this class of blade?"

He approached passing the desk to stand at the center of a large area rug. "I'm not sure, I just know."

"Do you know what a Slayer is Saana?" The temperature in the room dropped, my heart slowed each thump against my rib cage hurt as I struggled to focus. I stumbled forward as a high-pitched ringing filled my ears, my vision began to blur.

"You see Saana since we stepped into this room a powdered form of nightshade has been steadily pumping through the ventilation. While it has no effect on Lycans or witches for that matter, it does ensnare the senses of Slayers—

You've been a busy witch, haven't you? Flying around spreading your lies, practicing only deceit since you've been here. The web you've spun is quite magnificent, truly I admire your tenacity."

I reached around blindly until the burn at the back of my throat became unbearable, I collapsed to my knees. I knew he'd knelt beside me, the low tenor of his voice spreading throughout me like a poison. "This blade belongs to a slayer; I took the liberty of having the prints lifted so there is no reason you should continue with the charade."

I blinked through tears as my sight became clearer, "I don't know what you're talking about!"

He stood again, looking down at me, "You do!" His eyes shifted as he pointed the blade to my throat.

"P-please, I don't, I don't know what a slayer is, I don't know whose blade this is, and I don't know why or how I knew what it was." My voice was hoarse as I struggled to speak.

"This was the blade used to carve the sigils into the vail guardians' skin. To desecrate the Lycan's body and poison his blood. You mean to tell me you had nothing to do with this?"

I scooted further away, strands of my hair stuck to the perspiration on my face, "No! I was in session with Professor Freling!"

He reached out fisting a handful of my shirt, "Vulkan, please!" I flinched away from his other hand poised with the dagger. As quickly as he'd grabbed me, he shoved me away placing the dagger back in its sheath, tapping his fingers on it lost in thought.

"The fingerprints were that of Sarah Korhonen."