FALTER

CHAPTER 52: Pilgrimage.

"I remember feeling the beat of those drums through the bushes we used to hide in. Me and her, we scurried to get a peek and we saw that big colourful parade, and that man in the carriage. It called out to our hearts, as if we'd finally be part of a family, all believing in the same thing. He called out to us from afar and....."

He walked around the table, letting his fingers trail on the wood.

"The voices, their whispers - they were the loudest then. They screamed at me not to go into their waiting arms, but I craved the comfort of family. And now, I feel much the same as I did before all this. Alone."

Willow looked up at Ari, who looked at him in disbelief across the giant desk. Picture frames, quills, ink, books and sheaves of paper stood between them like a miniature city.

"You said," She cleared her throat in an effort to sound less incredulous. "That they were the loudest then. Do you still.... hear them?"

"No." All the ghosts hovered behind Ari, visible only in his vision. "I see them."

Imti stood far above the monument, leaning over the railings with a look of great contempt on his face. The faintest light from below illuminated the bottom of his face, with a dangerous glint visible in his eyes. He looked at the homogenous mass of people circumambulating around the sharp, tall white monolith.

There were people of shapes, sizes and ages in the crowd, their individuality stripped away in front of the greatest worship a member of the Church could partake in. Flashes from Imti's childhood reminded him of his mother's particular excitement in taking part in this act when they had saved up enough money. Of course, that had never happened.

Imti's disdain for everything surrounding him was offset by a strange, but familiar, feeling in the deepest pit of his stomach. It seemed as if his body itself was responding to being in such close proximity to a religious monument. He tried his best to ignore the electric feeling in the air, making every hair on his arm stand on end, and turned around to walk back down the metal staircase.

Ari struggled in her silence as Willow delicately perused through the contents of the vast office. He seemed familiar with the layout, but his soft touches indicated there was a certain respect he was trying to keep.

If I was him, She thought to herself. I'd have ripped the whole place to pieces.

As she let her eyes trail over the ornate walls with gold embellishments, the metal globes hanging from the ceiling, and of course, the wall-to-wall shelves hosting a litany of books.She thought back to where they'd found the man in front of her. Tied up in a shady motel, abandoned and betrayed by the only person he could trust. According to him, his invention - an artificial Drive much like her own - was behind the terror attacks.

Despite all that, he kept a calm demeanour, which Ari found mighty irritating. To her, Willow and Imti were men of inaction, cowards afraid to show their real emotions to the world.She fiddled with her fingers and tapped her boots on the ground. Her eyes roved around the room, not staying in any one place for more than a few moments and her mind was abuzz with distractions. However, the thought trying to force its way through her mental dam finally burst through.