Democracy

lesson

In the morning, I wake to rain falling onto my face. I jump the fence into Dorian's lane and I head towards the house, knocking on the door, still holding my hunting knife with my arrows on my back.
When the man who opens the door opens the door, he laughs. As the chuckles escape him, the stench of mint toothpaste follows after. He is a tidy man. He is dressed in a suit, supposedly ready for work. His eyes are a little red, likely from lack of sleep, but nothing else about him seems unhealthy. His nails are white and groomed. His beard is short and sculpted and his hair is the same, all of it black. Once he is done laughing, he asks who I am, kindly enough but there is an edge of suspicion.
"Tyler Pine, I'm friends with Dorian. He didn't answer his phone and I was wondering if he wanted to go see a film or something." I lie. The man raises an eyebrow.
"Dorian doesn't have a phone," the man states. "He broke it."
I reign surprise. "He had one yesterday," I shrug. At that moment Dorian enters the room through a door to the side, in his pocket is his phone. "Look there in his pocket," I point at Dorian, who has stopped dead in his tracks seeing me. His dad glares at the boy for a single moment before marching towards him and reaching into his pocket retrieving the phone.
"Where did you get this?" He aks, anger enriching his voice. "You didn't steal it did you?" Dorian manages to break eye contact with his father glancing over at me.
"I bought it, it was on sale. It was fifty pounds, I saved up from doing some odd jobs." His father grits his teeth and before I even realise he has hit his son around the ear. I push one of his fingers slightly out of place. I let myself audibly gasp.
"Sorry Sir, but the film is on soon." I struggle to keep any anger out of my tone. "Could we get going now?" The father looks at me again, suddenly remembering my being there. He nods a little and pushes Dorian towards me, taking the phone and pocketing it. Dorian and I begin to trudge back up through the lane. He doesn't say anything until we reach the gate.
"It doesn't usually happen." He lies. Rather than call him out I nod. He can learn his lesson later. For now, we just need to get on with the day.
Leading him to the training ground, I filter the noises around me simply focussing on my heartbeat. It relaxes me. I wasn't even aware I needed relaxing.
In the training ground, I find Harriet, Fern and Chuck waiting. Fern and Harriet are sparring whilst Chuck is just sitting and staring at the ceiling above him. I gesture for him to come over.
"Fern has already had a black eye from Dorian. So now it's your turn. Three rounds. Three minutes each. Then we'll go over techniques." I tell him and point them towards the second ring. As they make their way over, I stop to talk to Saul. His appearance doesn't change in the slightest when I give him some orders and he heads off without protest. It's partly for such reasons that I like Saul.
The fighting has started by the time I reach the ring. Dorian has Chuck in a headlock and is jabbing his knee into his chest. There is a clear opportunity for Chuck to sweep his leg around under Dorian's and topple him which, obviously, is taken. When Dorian is sent to the ground the round ends. I call the second round after a minutes rest. Dorian comes in immediately with a punch which lands on Chuck's cheek, sending him back a step. Dorian's balance also shifts a little. Chuck launches forward into Dorian, pulling a knife from his leg and stabbing it into Dorian's arm. It is on the edge of his arm and the knife doesn't come out even when Chuck pulls away. He's good; he knows what tests I want to see Dorian handle. Dorian pulls the knife out, grimacing. He spins the blade around taking it towards Chuck. They dance around each other, occasionally getting in blows. The time stops and neither have hit the ground. I stop the third. Blood is gushing from Dorian's wound.
"At least, we know we have stuff to teach him." Chuck states, sliding under the ring. Dorian's face flashes with the smallest hint of confusion. He doesn't understand, great. "Shouldn't have taken the knife out, idiot." Chuck calls behind him before taking a drink of water. He returns to the ring twenty seconds later, ready for round three. Dorian seems to be getting a little disoriented, probably from bloodloss. He isn't going to die, but he sure has lost a lot of blood. I call for the fight to start.
In the end, the fight is won pretty quickly. Dorian is obviously suffering from the lack of blood. He falls to the ground soon after the beginning of the fight. Chuck goes to help him up but I gesture for him to stop. I beckon Harriet over.
"How long would it take for Dorian, left in this condition, to be irreparably injured?"
"Probably about 20 minutes," she tells me. I nod.
I let him bleed out for 18 minutes. All through that time he looks like he is battling great pain. I'm not that surprised. Somehow, the doctor knows to turn up and enters two minutes after Dorian's collapse. I'm tossing knives at the target. Once the time is complete I go to pick Dorian up off the ground. "It doesn't usually happen?" His eyes fall as he realises why he was left there. "Don't lie to me again, Dorian." He nods quickly. Once the doctor has treated him I allow three hours for him to recover some more before we begin the sparring all over again. We go over some techniques, especially how to keep balance when throwing punches. He finds the forms quite quickly. Chuck and him spar for the rest of the day. They keep going for the following three days. On the fourth, I don't watch until the evening comes. Even then my plans are interrupted by Saul telling me about the person at the door.
It is highly unusual for anybody to be at my door so I go to answer it myself. Saul follows me as he so often does and when the door opens we both let out an almost audible groan.
"Brother," I greet, lathering my words with a thick malice. All Fabien does in response is nod at me, not politely or anything just to notify that I said something. He steps inside without invitation and I slam the door behind him without touching it. He raises his eyebrows as if laughing at me.
"I see you've made yourself comfortable," he states, his eyes travelling up and around the front room. Saul has leant back on the wall, crossed his arms and is currently glaring daggers at Fabien. Saul sure as hell remembers Fabien's only other visit a couple years ago. That was a disgrace. "I see your pet is still here," Fabien sneers at Saul.
"Piss off, Fabien," I hiss. He rewards me with a sly smile.
"Father has been meaning to clip your wings," he states, still washing his eyes around the room. I walk past him into the kitchen.
"Why did he send you then?" I turn to him, sending him flying back into the wall. "Why not somebody with more my strengths? Gabriel perhaps?" Fabien has quickly gotten back to his feet and is currently brushing down his suit.
"Father wants to know how long this fantasy with the humans will play out."
"He has billions of millennia, what does it matter?" Fabien hesitates for a second but quickly finds his rigid posture and emotionless face. "I'd hardly call tolerating people a fantasy." Keiran rolls his eyes. He looks toward Saul. I step forward, paralysing Fabien. "Don't you fucking dare you asshole." He struggles under my hold but Fabien eventually finds a grin. His fingers extend and Saul collapses. Fabien slams into the wall. I twist his leg around. He remains expressionless. He says nothing before vanishing. I kick the closest thing to me, which happens to be a chair that is sent sprawling across the room.
Chuck and Harriet appear at the door followed closely by Fern and Dorian. They immediately notice Saul. Chuck has a sharp intake of breath but the others make no sound; they just keep sorrowful faces.
"What happened?" Harriet asks after a long while of hesitation.
"My brother visited."
"You have a brother?" Fern and Chuck ask in unison.
"Prep the body for a funeral." I demand, ignoring their question. I need to get away and think. "I'm going to bed." I have left the room before anything else can be said.
I'm going to kill Fabien. He is so bloody infuriating. I'd expect nothing less from such a vile little creature. But, all the same, he's dead.
I don't sleep. I barely ever do. Not unless I'm bored.