The Other Side - A Jamilton Fanfiction

Chapter Eleven

The man the voice belonged to was standing in the doorway. He gave off a feeling of power and authority and was dressed like a nobleman, elegantly and powerful. His eyes held a look of exhaustion, but he held himself in a regal and almost imposing stance.

"Hey!" Hercules exclaimed. "It's the General!"

A small smile of amusement flickered on the man's face for a second, but it was soon lost as he turned to Thomas.

"Sword."

Thomas blinked in surprise, his triumphant smile crashing to the floor. "I'm sorry?"

The General held out his hand. "You know the rule. No weapons in the house. Sword."

"Are you kidding me?" Thomas asked, throwing his hands up in the air. "I bring back someone we presumed to be dead and the thing you're most concerned about is my sword?"

"Yes."

"How come Eliza gets to keep her knives then?"

"I do not!" Elizabeth said from beside me, crossing her arms.

"Eliza," the General said, sparing her a glance. "If you're going to lie, at least make it convincing." His gaze turned back to Thomas. "Eliza has proven herself responsible. You almost killed Lafayette once."

"That was an accident."

"Sword."

Thomas began to grumble in disagreement, but he nonetheless untied the sheath around his waist and ungracefully shoved it into the General's waiting hand. He crossed his arms once he had given up his weapon and turned away from him, looking over at me.

The General followed his gaze to look at me as well, his gaze as steady and unmoving as a rock. I have decided that he is the most threatening person I have ever met in my entire life.

"I like your hat," I said, it being the first thing that came to my mind.

The icy look disappeared from his gaze, and he laughed lightly before turning back to Thomas. "How is he still alive?"

"I wish I knew," Thomas responded. "We discovered an influx in magic on one of the least magical worlds in the entire multiverse. You all send me to check on it. I check on it. It's him. Why? I don't know. How? I don't know."

"And Alexander doesn't remember anything?"

Thomas hesitated for a moment, opening his mouth. He must have thought better, because a moment later he closed it, lowered his head, and shook it.

"I don't believe you," said the man apparently named Lafayette. "It isn't possible. No spell that we know of can completely erase someone's memory."

"Apparently there is one!" Thomas exclaimed, rounding on him and throwing his hands up. "Whether you choose to believe it or not does not change what happened!" The roughness in his eyes softened when they met mine. "This is a lot for you, isn't it? If you want, we can—"

"No, I'm good. But thank you."

Thomas looked concerned. "Are you sure? Because you seem a little bit... well, quiet."

"No!" I exclaimed. "No, I'm good. I'm just... well, I found out last week that magic was real and now I find out that I was—am?—dead and I have no memory about magic and rebellion and wars and... lots of other things I'm sure?"

"Thomas, do you know who did this?" The General asked.

Thomas let out a rough, low laugh. "I'm surprised you're even asking. I think we can all take a guess on who erased Alexander's memory and locked him away for two million years."