MICHAEL LANGDON - DAUGHTER OF THE LOA.

CHAPTER ELEVEN.

Silence filled Karliah's surroundings, nothing to be heard beyond the occasional crackle and pop from the fireplace in front of her. Although, the air felt thicker than usual, a sense of restlessness meddling amongst it.

It'd been a week since her last encounter with Michael, and his memories of pain and guilt didn't appear to be fading from her mind. She seemed to resent the pity she felt for him, in spite of the contradicting feeling of hatred she felt brew within her every time she saw him. She knew what he was, what he'd done to the world she once knew, to the people she once knew - and yet, there was the question of just what he could've been without the burden of loss, the burden of hopelessness that she herself had grown to know all too well.

It seemed to burden her more so now than ever. A night hadn't passed where her parents' arguing hadn't filled the counsel's corridors. It left her guilt-ridden, regardless of the fact that her father had began to grow more and more tired of his wife's antics, Karliah's bruised face only seemed to be the final straw to break the camel's back. The issue of the kingdom's Hand of the Larenn hadn't gone unnoticed by anyone. It was apparent, the 'hushed' rumors of Eshe hating her only child, seeing her only as a recreation of her resented mother, had been uttered from ear to ear, spreading like hay fire until they eventually met the ears of the queen herself.

Regardless, Karliah hadn't gotten the chance to meddle upon the people's gossip, nonetheless meddle on anything that wasn't in regard to the division.

After speaking with the men and women of the divisions, the only good news she'd gotten was that the white division was officially back up and running within a few days of Lourdes' assigning, the rest of the divisions had fallen behind. Red lost two men on watch duty, black had yet to have their apprentices reach level three, and scarlet had began to slow down on production. With everything else, it was enough to leave Karliah with a full plate.

Markus stuck behind after the briefing, getting an earful about Karliah's new-found knowledge on Michael. She told him of the visions, the familiarity she found in his grief and hurt, simply to receive the same warning.

It was difficult to not play devil's advocate - to not ponder upon the what if's, to wonder what would come of her not following the prophecy set in place.

No matter how Karliah felt, no matter how anyone had felt, there was a truth to Michael's words. The hate Eshe held, the pain that fueled her power. Although her mother was a matter she could handle on her own, her powers were unpredictable, anything if not unruly. There was no one who could mentor her, teach her the control she so desperately needed to master.

No one except for Michael himself.

It was dangerous, and in simpler terms, idiotic. It could only be assumed that going against the prophecy would lead her to her demise. But without her power, she couldn't lead herself let alone her people anywhere. It was a sacrifice she was growing willing to make.

The sudden sound of footsteps gliding amongst the floor pulled her from her thoughts. She looked over her shoulder to find Ali, a fine line of a smile lining his face as he approached her, sitting beside her on the sofa. "You're missing dinner." He stated.

The girl pursed her lips, shaking her head as she continued to stare into the fire, "I'm not hungry."

Nearby candles casted an amber glow upon her features, illuminating the bruise that rested high upon her cheek. Her father stared at her, eyes glinting as he smiled bleakly before staring ahead into the fireplace as well.

"It's been a tough week, Karliah... I'm sorry for that."

She spared him a glance, "Don't be sorry, you're not the one who should be apologizing anyways."

The older man's gaze fell to the ground, resting his elbows upon his knees as he wrung his hands together. "I need to be there for you, your mother and I both. We both should be doing better, especially at a time like this, mwen cheri."

Karliah looked over to him, the solemn look on his tired face stirring up a feeling of anger within her, "This isn't your fault, dad. None of this is."

He sat up slowly, meeting her gaze, "I should've told you from the start... about Papa Legba, your grandmother, the prophecy. All of it." He muttered reluctantly.

She stared at him in thought, "You can start by telling me now."

Ali nodded slowly, a sigh escaping his lips as he casted his gaze back upon the ground.

"Your mother... she wasn't always like this. She wanted to live a life as normal as she possibly could, but it was difficult. Eshe was brought back from the afterlife after two-hundred years, she had only aged to be sixteen. We ended up meeting in 1993, then we had you a few years after,

"Papa Legba showed up during her second trimester, explaining that you were to be born to fulfill the prophecy," he paused, blinking back his welling tears, "She felt you were the only reason she was brought back. She begged him to take you."

"Why?"

"She believed without the savior of humanity there could be no bringer of the end of times. In any case, Legba refused, claiming that if anything were to happen to you, Eshe would be damned for eternity."

Karliah nodded weakly, wiping at her tear-ridden eyes with a wry chuckle as her father continued. "Most mothers are warm, gentle... your mother isn't most mothers. She's hurtful, cruel even - most importantly, she's a human, who gave birth to her pain instead of a child."

Ali rested a hand atop of her knee, "But don't you doubt your worth, not for a single second. You hold the hundred spirits of each and every Loa, their fire and fight as well as their wisdom."

She scoffed, sniffling slightly as she fidgeted with her fingers, "Why would I want power that I can't control?"

"It's what you were blessed with. Regardless of your control, you can still make peace among this earth."