Of Gears and Humanity

| 18.2

[DAMIEN]

My hand trembled as I reached for the sword in the weapon's wrack. I caught my reflection in the blade as I turned it; the golden flecks in my eyes absorbed the sun. Eyeing the imposter, the liar, the pretender looking back at me, I bit my cheeks hard as I looked ahead; I looked for him.

Eon hid so well. It was the first time in my entire life I'd seen an Attribution for what they truly were—weapons. That was what they recreated themselves to be. To fight humans in the war, the Attributions changed. They became the heart of a person's fear, mimicking the demons plaguing the dreams of men and women around them.

Eon became mine. It took just one minute, one look, and immediately, I became defensive. The Attribution who'd been around my entire life, who stood alongside my father as a dear friend, terrified me with one menacing look. One sinister smile. And a warning.

"Come home, or we'll come for you."

A shadow moved behind my reflection. My gaze shot back at the blade, eyeing it, waiting for impact. I thought of Eon, slender, made from nightmares. My nightmares. A demon, as humans believed.

Twisting my grip around the hilt of the sword, I turned my head, hoping I saw the Attribution who threatened me and the people of Homestead. I wanted to show him I wasn't afraid; I was, but he didn't need to know that.

Eon wasn't who I saw.

"Sir Damien?" A woman stood in the armory's doorway with a basket filled with towels in her hand. She motioned towards it before smiling at me. "Are you done with your room today?"

I lowered the sword, sheathing it against my hip. I had to put it away; paranoia wouldn't defeat me today.

"Yeah, I am," I said, shooting her a weak smile. "Why?"

"Oh." She glanced down the hall outside the armory. Footsteps echoed as she moved back, hugging the basket close to her chest. "If you're heading out for Princess Elena's tour, then I can head up to your room."

My eyes widened. My room?

Looking back at me, she nodded as if she heard my thoughts. "I'll clean it while you're gone, fill your basin, and ensure everything is ready for when you—"

I didn't mean to rush towards her, but I did. Both of my hands grabbed her shoulders, so fast, she whimpered and squeezed her eyes shut. I tried to laugh to ease the moment, but I couldn't if there wasn't a way to calm myself down.

Paranoia hadn't defeated me. But it sure as hell tried.

"Don't worry about my room," I said quietly. "I can clean it."

"You?" Opening one eye, she looked up at me, confused. "Sir Damien, I can clean it, I can—"

You will see the burn marks and destroyed paintings Eon left behind.

I laughed again. "No, no, no, it's fine!" Scratching the back of my head, I left one hand on her shoulder to turn her in the opposite direction of my room. "I'm not used to this stuff, you know. So, I can clean it when I get back."

She glanced back at me as we walked down the hall together. "Really?" she asked.

I nodded, gulping, hiding my fears. "Yup."

I had no intentions of cleaning the room. Elena's mock tour was supposed to take me to the Gate, away from Homestead. The King and his people would eventually go into the room and see what had happened, what was left behind. They would probably blame me. But by the time that happened, I planned on being long gone, away from the humans who showed me my entire life had been a lie. And if I was back with my false securities, Homestead would be out of danger; just as Kieron wanted.