Beneath the Vail

Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

She ashed the clove taking one last drag before putting it out in the small black tray on the bookcase nearest the door. She removed her glasses tucking them into the small handbag, it was clearly more for fashion than function. Taking off her hat she set it on the desk, covering whatever paperwork Vulkan had been slaving over as if it were irrelevant. She added her handbag to the pile, "It seems you've already remembered who you are. And without my help."

Vulkan moved away from me, as far away as he could get, standing near the window opposite his desk. I eyed Beatrix warily, "Though I sense not everything is as you expected?"

I picked up the letter opener tucking it into my back pocket, just in case. "No, it seems there's still some gaps." I noticed Vulkan perk up at this information, crossing his arms across his chest. She approached me, I held my ground, "May I?" I gave a curt nod.

She touched her gloved fingers to each of my temples, her eyes wholly obsidian absorbing the light, her forked tongue wagging in a language I had never heard. Again, she closed her eyes, "Your memories have been tampered with."

"How?" It was Vulkan who broke the silence.

Beatrix leaned in, her face centimeters from my own as she blew cool air directly onto me. It was abnormal, icy to the point of stinging, "You were cursed." I felt a pulling in my head as she continued to prod my memories, I winced in pain.

"That's enough Bea." She persisted, ignoring Vulkan's statement. He grabbed ahold of her, pulling her away from me I gasped doubling over. "Don't force it! You know better." She straightened up her appearance, raising a brow at me but shaking her head answering my silent question. She didn't know.

I brushed past Vulkan's reach, I needed fresh air, the four walls were beginning to suffocate me. A choking sensation overcame me, I picked up the pace heading for the side exit of the castle. I rubbed my throat, coughing a bit to make it ebb away, the smothering. Deeply inhale, slowly exhale, I closed my eyes facing the breeze before pacing along the ward. Someone tampered with my memories, someone cursed me, who?

A spell, words of an unheard language formed together with intent be it for the good of all or for darkness to be filled. A curse, wicked intent inked into the flesh of its victim to linger for eternity or until broken. "Inked into the flesh." I hurried to the closest bathroom, locking the door behind me I stripped looking in the mirror. Several scars covered me whispering forgotten stories against my skin, I traced each of them, flashes of memories playing in my mind like a cinema.

One stood out amongst the rest, rough to the touch, never fully healing. The blade that had carved my pale skin lay in the hands of Vulkan, my own blade, in fact, I remember vividly the torture, the pain. My father had brutally cut that symbol into me demanding answers, the Adeverat, just as I'd seen on that poor guardian nearly a week ago now. Purportedly carved by the very same blade, my flamberge, the supposed suspect my sister. Sarah Korhonen, deceased now ghost? Slayer ghost? Ridiculous.

I turned exposing my back to the mirror, a line of sigils precisely placed running along my shoulder blade. Small, almost invisible if it weren't for my superior eyesight, I may haven't noticed them. Odd, they seemed to be a blend of Sânge symbols but also Umbrian, a dangerous combination. Nothing is ever simple, in fact, things seem more complicated ever since my memories returned. I need Beatrix to have a look, perhaps we can remove this curse.

I dressed again, buttoning my shirt down I noticed a tear, my thoughts raced to him. Then like a cold shower, I awakened to the grim reality that I had just kissed Vulkan. I rubbed my eyes, feverishly running a hand through my hair, how could I face him again? Turning on a faucet I splashed cold water on my face, patting some of it behind my neck. A gentle knock sounded, echoing in the bathroom's acoustics.

Unlatching the lock I pulled open the door, "Sorry, I— "Vulkan stood, hands shoved into the pockets of his pants, calm and collected unlike myself. My heart pounded a new wave of heat washed over me, "How did you find me?"

He shook his head, "The grounds of the academy are mostly empty. Besides, I followed your scent." I felt like a schoolgirl, young and naïve, part of me wished that's all I was. One moment I am self-assured and the next a blithering idiot, especially when he's around.

I crossed my arms as the bathroom door shut behind me, "Why does professor Freling believe that I overdosed on my medication?"

For a split second his brows creased in confusion, but quickly he recovered, "Well I couldn't tell them I poisoned you twice, and you grabbed a dagger only to pass out completely immediately after." I supposed that made sense, I'm not sure if anyone knows that office even exists, then there's the matter of the dagger. Where it came from and how Sarah's fingerprints ended up on it, a bewitching perhaps.

Satisfied with his answer I shrugged one shoulder, "You mentioned previously to my, episode we'll call it, the Legion had you research my family and myself?" We had begun walking towards the courtyard, the path I'd taken to Melgren castle came to view.

"After meeting the real Detective Greene, I informed my superiors of you, your odd blood. At their request, I did a little digging and concluded you were a slayer and that we could use your expertise. Of course, this was before I knew you'd been cursed."

We made our way along the path, heading to our first meeting place, "That seems awfully simple, how you found out, considering no one knows our identities."

A sigh of exasperation and he stopped walking, taking my arm to turn me towards him, "Truth is I already knew. After you'd cut yourself."

I moved out of reach, "Well if memory serves which for me it often doesn't, only the Umbra can smell a slayers blood."

He ran a hand through his hair, "Damn this interrogation!" He threw his hands in the air, "I know Vittoria. Are you satisfied now? I know the smell of slayer." We continued in silence with only the tense company of each other. His pace was quicker than my own, his strides long, his walk confident; we were getting closer to Melgren.

"So you lied." 

He scoffed, "As if you haven't." I thought it best to leave it at that, he was right I had lied, hell I impersonated an officer. Still, I allowed my theories to grow in the back of my mind, watering them with wild assumptions. 

I found myself watching him intently, closely observing his mannerisms as I seem to do every time we're around each other. The way he ran his hand through his hair seemed habitual, strands pulling out of the tie with every stroke. Time morphed around us like we were in a bubble just the two of us, a subtle breeze pushed the ferns around my legs. The gentle brushing of foliage, the singing leaves of the few quaking aspens that dared grow in this cedar sea. He was known to me, the more we walked in silence the more familiar it all became, his presence comforting the perpetual void that my being has become.

I stopped short of the opening at the end of the trail, I knew that once we crossed the threshold and Melgren came into our view I wouldn't have this moment again. Just the two of us alone; "Vulkan?" He stopped, turning to face me but remaining stoic.

"Have we met before?" Seconds passed, as time moved on those seconds evolved into minutes, finally, he moved closer to me.

There was a gentleness to him I hadn't been exposed to, he took my hand in his. "Saana, I know that things are falling back into place for you, that you've returned to yourself. Those gaps that are missing, that persistent discontinuity, I am not one of those pieces. I am not a part of your puzzle." My hand slid over the rough calluses of his own as he retracted himself. Not a part of my puzzle, it hurt more than it should have.

This idea that I'd known him was a greater motivation for me to remember things, the idea that maybe I would have him when that darkness returned. The darkness of that night, the night I lost everything, including myself. I'd already stitched together this quilt of absolution for him, I would bask in its warmth as I wanted to bask in his arms. Alas, my affections were for naught. 

photo: Google images, Cedar Forest