Renaissance

X

Heph's P.O.V

      "I cannot believe you talked me into this," The grudge Donatello holds in his voice is dull and I can tell it weighs heavy around his ankles. He's almost marching after me, arms swinging at his sides as he accompanies me into the sewers. It's blunt to the ears and his amber glare is the exact opposite. Sharp.

    I sigh, grey eyes somersaulting in their sockets as his comment bounces off the tunnel. I'm actually pleasantly surprised that my persuasion skills have come so far as to talk Donnie, of all turtles, into a plan. I think it's because he's curious. I talk so highly of Eterna, he probably wants to at least see who this hubristic catastrophe of a woman is. I had to talk him into it, of course. It took me about a day to do it, which again, I'm proud of.

      It was all "Eterna this" and "Eterna that" and I knew it was all Raph could do to not punch me six feet under. It even began to annoy me as well, listening to myself talk that much. Leo seemed amused enough, spending the time chuckling softly at the anecdotes that weren't funny to anyone else and smirking at the inside jokes I couldn't even begin to explain without crying from laughter. He really was trying, and it made my heart light.

      He spent the day helping me meditate. He brought his sandalwood incense out and sat with me for what seemed like mere minutes, was really hours. The smell of the incense put me in a trance and I felt like I could still feel his phantom hands on my back for eons after.

    I didn't tell him I would startle myself out of meditation by visions of the Harbinger stampeding towards me with a dingy, muck-covered knife. Ever since the other day in the dojo, I'd been researching knives and his seemed to be a bolo knife. Which I also found out is used for clearing vegetation. But, that doesn't tell me anything. Why would the Harbinger have a bolo knife, of all things? Yet another question I can't answer. Yet.

    Earlier, I went ahead and tried to scrawl the runes on the Harbinger's chest down on a piece of paper, and scoured the internet for some inkling of an answer but to no avail. There's nothing. Not even a language close to what the runes look like. Maybe elvish but I'm not about to scour the Lord of the Rings fandom.

      I leaned back in my chair as an exasperated sigh left my lungs. Boredom began to settle in. I want this to be over and done with so badly. I want these crooked...things to leave me and my friends alone. I can't handle anymore death.

      I jammed my hands into my sweater pockets, startled by the crunch of a paper on the left hand side. I don't usually leave things in my pockets, so it wouldn't be far fetched to say that I was startled. I pulled it out and my heart did handsprings as I recognized the paper as the one I took from Leo's room.

      My hands shook as they gripped the corner of the paper, black marks on the inside burning against the cream white. I had to open it. I'm sorry, Leo.

      Time seemed to stop as I unfolded the quad-folded paper. The moment felt so unbelievably slow. And then I'm slapped in the face by the writing. It's all of the symbols. All of the Harbinger and friends' symbols! The black ink was pressed so deeply into the page I had no doubt it bled through into a table somewhere. Why does Leo have this?

      I rocketed out of my chair and slapped the paper against my chest as someone spoke behind me.

      "They call themselves Hollows." Leo was leaning against the doorframe, eyes lazy slits as he looked away from me. I was shaking, and my heart was still pounding in my ears. I found myself asking how he knew that and wincing at the break in my voice. He smiled. It split lopsidedly across his mouth and he unfolded his arms as he did it.