Finding Darkness

Chapter 22

I'm walking outside to see if anything's happened. So far, nothing. Then again, the attacks happen at night. I should wait for night and sneak out. I turn to go home. It's been hours since Black Mist's visit, and Astral hasn't woken up yet. He said that he'll only stay asleep if the wound is vital. Did Black Mist do vital damage to Astral then? If so, was it mental or physical? I reach the house as I ponder the situation. I open the door and see Astral laying on the couch between the two chairs, curled up in a tight ball. Just the way I left him hours ago. Not moving. Hardly breathing. Barely conscious, too.

I sit on the chair next to him. A thought occurs to me. I wonder if I can touch him when he sleeps. No, not in that way to all of you dirty-minded readers! It's worth a try. I reach my hand out, expecting it to go right through. Surprisingly, I feel Astral's hair against my skin. It's surprisingly soft. I touch his forehead. Warm. I didn't know his natural temperature is warm. I thought it would be cold like Black Mist, but it's like human temperature, except warmer. So that's why he doesn't get cold.

I stroke Astral's hair arbitrarily for a few minutes until he stirs, and my hand passed through like normal since he's awake.

"Astral?" I call, trying to wake him up more.

Astral sits up sleepily, apparently not in pain anymore. Maybe he slept whatever Black Mist did to him off. "Is he gone?" he slurs.

"Yeah, he's gone," I assure him. "For now, at least."

This seems to calm him a bit. "Are you mad, Yuma?" He turns his gaze to me, those cold, hard eyes burning into mine, daring me to question his decision.

I shrug, turning my eyes away from his, unable to hold his gaze. "I don't really know. Kind of, I guess."

Astral's voice hardens as he returns, "I am not going to apologize for doing my duty, Yuma. You must understand that I take my job seriously, and that I will erase the information you have acquired."

"Erase the information?" I look back at him, and an edge creeps into my voice again. "Why? Now that I know what you're after, I can help. You don't have to fight alone now."

Astral face-palms. "Has Black Mist not told you the most important part? I must fight alone because I am the only one who can survive his dark attacks. Humans simply do not wield enough light to fight against the darkness."

I sigh. Why doesn't Astral want my help? He's needed it before, so why does he refuse now? That's strange.

Suddenly, Astral's not on the couch anymore. I feel something, his fingers I think, stab into the back of my brain. "I am sorry, Yuma, but this must happen. I must erase your memory," Astral says, not sounding sorry at all. I feel something pulling in my mind, taking away something.

Somehow, I manage to fight it, to resist his power. "I'm not letting you, Astral," I practically growl.

"It must happen," Astral insists. "Humans are not allowed to know." He strengthens his pull on my memories. I feel myself forgetting what I was told, what Astral is, what his mission is, but I also manage to hold on. Astral is a Light Agent. His mission is to purge the evil that has left his world.

Finally, Astral lets go, apparently out of energy. I turn toward him. "Why don't you want me to know? I have a right to know."

Astral's eyes go blank and his voice hollow as he says, "Humans mustn't have knowledge of the Agents' mission. They mustn't know of their objective to rid the worlds of our evil. Now, we must complete where our Agent has failed."

"No way," I defy. "Who are you? Why don't you want me to know?"

Astral comes staggering, actually walking, toward me. " 'Classified information must remain so. Do all you can to keep humans from knowing your objective. Erase their memories if you must.' These are some of the instructions we have given all twenty-four of our Agents. This one, Agent 12, has done all in his power, even resorting to erasing your memories, to keep you from knowing, yet you defy your friend's attempt. When he leaves, your memories of him will be erased, so it is useless resisting now. We do not wish to harm your mind, for it is weak and fragile, so make it easier by not resisting."

I back away from him. "No. If I don't know what's going on, how am I supposed to help?"

Astral stops. "Though you are truly willing to assist Agent 12 in his mission, your efforts will be in vain. He must do this alone, as he has always done in the past."

"In vain? What do you mean? How will my efforts be in vain?" I step back even though he's not advancing.

" 'The beings of this world cannot assist, for they do not wield sufficient power. Therefore, do not expect them to help. They must remain ignorant to the mission.' Our twenty-four Agents know that, and they have made sure that has been completed."  He starts stumbling toward me again. He looks like a zombie minus the blood, rotting flesh, and lack of speech.

"What does that mean? That I'm not strong enough?" I gather the courage to walk up to the controlled Astral.

"That is exactly what we mean." Wow. Talk about blunt. "Humans are weak, selfish, and cowardly. Only a few are strong enough, but only barely. They end up crippled, scarred, dead, or worse. No other being is as strong as our Agents.

"What if there's a chosen few who are just as strong, who can help? What then?"

Astral and I stop one foot apart. His empty (literally empty of any conscience) eyes bear into mine. "Yes, there is more power in you than most other beings," he muses. "Almost as much as our Agents."

"Yeah, so I need to know what's going on," I return.

He pauses. "We have occupied this being far too long. You shall know when the time arrives." With that, Astral lets out a small gasp and falls over on his knees, still awake.

"Yes, Yuma. You shall know in time, so stop asking me."

"Sure, but that won't stop my curiosity."

"Thank you," Astral sighs. He gets up and winces, clutching is side. He floats upstairs without another word.