ONE OK ROCK - I Was King

I didn't want to think about Abraham's message, I didn't want to believe him, but I couldn't help but check. If Jordan was joining him, that meant she was leaving Chimarah. So I visited, cloaking myself. Every nerve in my body heightened, pulling from me to see if I would feel her there, sense her like I had unknowingly at the bar, but there was nothing. Instead, I heard voices, angry ones, an argument. I counted. Four. A sick feeling began to fill my throat as I listened.

"You never should have let her stay here! Never! We don't house people like her, we don't help people like her! She was a fucking time bomb and you let her sit here ticking."

"I did what I had ta, Jevin was destroying the city with her. Someone had ta do something."

The second voice was Chimarah's, being the only female one. Something underneath her words made my chest prickle. Defeat, doubt, guilt? A low voice took up Chi's side in the lull that followed.

"Someone had to stop her, she was lost and needed balance, stability. If Chimarah had turned her away then she very well could have been snatched up by another like the Vampyre and then we would have been in even graver danger. She was a...unique situation."

"Graver than death? Was she so 'unique' she was worth the blood of our Clan? She led whoever that was here and you know it!"

"Someone had ta do something!"

Chimarah's high voice rang out now, no longer sounding like sorrow embodied, but angry.

"And why was that someone us? Since when is it our responsibility to save the city? To get involved? That is not what we do! Since when do we deal in anything other than information? Why didn't you give this to another? To a Clan that is used to dealing with shit like her? We don't fight and we don't keep Halflings under our roof because then people die, our people die!"

The voice that roared out was different from the first, but similar and the very walls seemed to shake with his rage. There was a brief pause before Chimarah responded, but when she did I could tell she was closer to me, to the door I stood behind, listening, trying to piece together what exactly had happened to make Jordan leave.

"I did it 'cause it was asked of me. I did what I was ordered ta do."

She sounded sad again, unsure, her voice low. The man that responded shared none of her emotion, the first voice again, but now mocking and sharp. It was clear the argument had halved the Clan, Chi and the low voice against the two similar ones, probably brothers. I felt my Shift jump at his words.

"Right, the faceless, nameless man you seem so loyal to. Tell me, leader, where is he now? Now that his grand plan has ended so disastrously? Tell me, where is the one you believe in so much now that your family is splintered, now that Syn's blood is on our floor? Do you serve your family or him? This ghost you won't even give a name to?"

At that, I opened the door, rolling it back as I stepped inside, letting my Shift cover me.

"Speak of the devil and he may appear."

I spoke the words around my lengthening teeth, flashing them as I smiled despite myself.

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The Vault was not at all what I had expected, which was roughly some form of Hogwarts, complete with cloaks and owls and broomsticks. What I found instead was quite...ordinary. Besides my Shift constantly twitching in me, trying to figure out what these people were, why they felt different, if they were dangerous and what they could do, everything appeared painfully normal. Like being a Mage was just a small part of their existence, and maybe it was. Ailech saying he was human made more sense after a day in the Vault. I thought of myself first as a Darkling, then a person, but the charges at the Vault seemed to view their natures differently than I did mine, secondary to their humanity.

It felt strange being surrounded by people nothing like me, yet not normal either. I could tell they felt it too. I was a predator, something made to destroy, while these people were peacekeepers, meant to teach, to create, to heal. I rarely walked down a hallway without people turning the other way. Without them pushing up against the wall to be as far from me as possible as I passed. Without hearing their hushed voices once they thought I was out of earshot. They didn't necessarily know who I was, but they knew what I was and that made them cautious enough, understandably.

Abraham told me he hadn't disclosed to his pupils exactly who they were housing, but that only made the rumors become more extravagant, more extreme. A scorned devil who decided to join Earth's side in the battle to come, a spy who had somehow tricked Abby into trusting her, a thousand-year-old witch who had sold her soul to a Fallen for her power and now wished to see what her descendants were learning, the list went on and on.

I tried to talk to Abraham about my situation, trying to fill in all the blanks everyone else seemed to know but I didn't have a fuzzy clue about. The prophecy, the 'war' that was coming, why the Collector had decided now was his time to act, what he knew about the Skia, or me, or the Collector in general, but Abraham always derailed my questions, always danced away from them with the utmost of eloquent skill.

Sometimes he would simply look at me after I attempted to get answers from him, his knotted, old hands steepled in front of him. Sometimes he would reply with a question of his own, but even when I pressed him, he'd just tell me to be patient, that the time wasn't right and all I needed to focus on now was dealing with the last few months of my life. 'Coping' he called it.

I hated the word, it made me feel like a trauma patient. He said that was enough of an endeavor, without him adding more just yet, that I would need strength for the future and that was what my attention should be on, building a strong foundation. Instead of doing as he asked, and 'coping' with my emotions, the burning hatred, the icy betrayal, the emptiness,

- I trained. I ignored my past the best I could and threw myself into practicing every moment possible. If I hadn't, I probably wouldn't have been able to drag myself out of bed each morning.

How could I cope with Syn's death, with the guilt and sorrow that threatened to overwhelm me? How could I cope with the storm of anger and hopelessness I felt every moment of every day knowing what I was, what I woke up each morning closer to becoming? How could I cope with the nightmares that woke me every night or the dread of knowing that each day could be the day Gabriel supposedly showed up? How could I cope with knowing the ultimate monster was chasing me, determined to use me for whatever horrible plan he had in motion, a plan no one would even tell me? Nothing could help, nothing could fix everything that was broken in me or around me. That was what Abraham didn't understand, so I trained.

Abraham wanted me to train, though not exactly in the ways I did. He had a whole list of skills he wanted to work with, a whole slew of traits he wanted to strengthen, but he said he would give me a week of adjustment first. I hated how it reminded me of my beginning with the Clan, how Gabriel had given me time to settle in as well, to make sure I wanted the life the Clan could offer me. But even when I tried to refuse the 'week of contemplation,' Abraham wouldn't allow it.

Being around him was the most frustrating, calming experience I'd ever had to suffer or enjoy. Half the time I wanted to pull my hair out at how difficult he was to have a straight conversation with, and the other half of the time I wished to just sit in silence in front of him. Just to feel my anger and sadness sink away, just to feel the peace that radiated from him like the moon, like he wasn't creating the peace, merely reflecting it to me, letting it cover me.

Within my first few days exploring I realized the Vault had warriors, Mages who's gifts were more akin to destruction than others, but they kept their distance from me just like everyone else, apparently not feeling any camaraderie simply because we were both capable of killing. It was like a complete ecosystem at the Vault, like they had created their own little world, which in a way I suppose they had. They had been hunted and killed for generations, the only way they survived as long as they had was by staying hidden, even now as their power grew, their numbers grew, they stayed hidden.

In addition, wards and barriers that made what Kael had put up around the manor look like child's play were everywhere. Even if someone knew where the Mages were, getting in would be close to impossible, a fact I was extremely grateful for. It helped ease my fear, didn't end it, but at least helped. I hadn't realized how afraid I was, how truly terrified I was, until I knew I was safe, or as safe as I could be. I didn't want to ever be taken by the Collector, by anyone. I never wanted to have to serve someone again. I had buried any thoughts of Gabriel's father, thinking that meant I wasn't afraid. But the fear was there, I had just blocked it out, shoved it in a corner, pretending he didn't exist...and that was what had gotten Syn killed. I wouldn't make that mistake again.

It was a strange dual-sided fear, as much as I never wanted to face the Collector, another part of me hoped I would, hoped I would be the one to kill him. He had ruined so much for me, and even if I couldn't think of my Pair without cringing, I still hated what his father had done to him. Regardless of how I felt about Gabriel, the things his father had done were unforgivable. The abuse, the torture, the cruelty my Pair had suffered as a child. Sometimes I couldn't even fathom how evil the Collector must be to treat his own son as he had. He had ruined him. I killed the guilty, and if anyone in the world was guilty, it was the Collector. The hate I felt for him was almost irrationally strong, so strong I had considered the possibility that some of it was from my partner, that his own feelings for his father were bleeding into me. But the last thing I wanted was for that to be true, for my emotions to be tied to him in any way.

Ailech was always near, and though I made sure to reveal nothing of myself to him, I had a lot of time to get to know him. He was almost as bitchy as Nevaeh, but with an oddly playful nature, like a cat who sometimes batted at your hand for attention and other times to draw blood, with the switch balanced on a razor's edge. He was difficult for me to figure out. But mainly, I just thought he was bored. He was a healer, and a superb one at that, but he was rarely allowed to leave the Vault, being too valuable to be mulling about a city as dangerous as mine, to be a warrior.

It was obvious that his personality was the kind meant for conflict, but his gifts didn't match. And it was blatant how frustrating that was for him. He spent almost every waking hour with me, something of a bodyguard, though I'm sure I could handle any dangerous situation better than he. I suppose in actuality he was just meant to keep me alive, a bodyguard in the most literal sense, but he was also my guide, and my keeper. I could sense his interest in me, a break from his tedious life, something new and exciting. But I had already made the decision to be completely detached from those around me, to not even speak to anyone besides Abraham, which made my time with Ailech silent and awkward at best, much to his annoyance.

He stopped exclusively calling me Mors after a while, and instead opted for Mask, since he said I was just the husk of a real person. I wasn't even tempted to rise to that bait. I made the decision on my first night at the Vault as I laid in my room, listening to the vibrant life going on past my closed door; I would not get close or connected to anyone. I was here for protection, here to learn, here because I had nowhere else to go, but I wasn't here to make friends. I wouldn't care about anyone and that way I couldn't have anyone used against me. If I didn't have anyone that I cared about, the Collector couldn't hurt me, couldn't attack me through them.

It was an odd kind of control, a cold kind, but at least it was control, something I had been lacking for months. I didn't talk to anyone at the Vault in my first week, didn't even know anyone's name beside Ailech and Abraham, but that was exactly as I wanted it. I was either in my room alone, or training in one of the various gyms alone. I even took my meals in my room so I didn't have to face the people out in the halls.

It wasn't difficult to keep my distance from the rest of the Vault, even when I was in public. I stayed in my own head most of the time, thinking, discussing, planning, making alternative plans and backup ones for any change of events that might come. I would never be caught off guard again, never unprepared again. I tried not to daydream, but that turned out to be an impossible task and I often found myself in fantasy scenarios, fighting with Gabriel, yelling at him, having him beg for my forgiveness as I walked away, killing him in any number of ways. Every possible encounter between my old life and my current self played in my mind over and over, always ending exactly as I wanted it to, though I never felt better afterwards. Speaking to myself in my own mind was the most conversation I got, the most interaction I had since I ignored the real world, the real people that were actually around me on a daily basis. I decided that was best. I could be my own friend, the only person I needed.

Abraham had meetings with me daily, usually just to see how I was doing, and to try and talk to me about Gabriel, about my past. I tried to hate our meetings, pretended to even, but in reality I didn't mind them, just being around the old mage seemed to settle a soft cover of calm over me. At least until he brought up my partner, that was usually when I ended our conversations. Sometimes he was the only person I said a single word to in a given day, getting by with Ailech just from nods or gestures. Sometimes I didn't even say anything during our meetings at all, just sat in silence until Abraham brought up Gabriel. Then I'd stand and leave, all without saying a word, but those times made me feel guilty, the watery look in Abraham's eyes returning. I hated it when he looked like he might cry, which was often. He was uncommonly gentle.

Abraham nagged me daily to join trainings during my first week and I found the combat classes the lesser evil, given my options. I wasn't an Earth, I didn't have magic of any kind, but some classes were purely physical and I occasionally joined. I didn't talk to anyone still, but I at least joined. I preferred training alone, or as alone as Ailech would ever let me be, but I liked the smile of approval Abraham gave when he knew I had attended a class.

Finding sparring partners was a joke, even among the warriors. No one wanted to work with me, which I didn't take personally, I didn't want to work with any of them either. Ailech usually ended up being my partner since he was always there, refusing to leave my side unless I was safely ensconced in my room. He wasn't a particularly skilled fighter, but he was better than Chi had been, not quite as good as Syn. Ailech was trickier though, more conniving, and sometimes I did find our fights helpful beyond simple practice. Trying to predict what he would do, trying to understand a mind like his. I still couldn't glean any of his thoughts, which he said was because he was immune to 'Angel Gifts', but I assumed he just had a well-blocked mind and the rest was bragging. He seemed like the type.

He impressed me in one way I hadn't expected. I thought healers could only heal others, and though that was mainly true with Darklings, it apparently wasn't with Mages, with humans. Every time I got a solid blow in when we sparred, every time I heard a bone snap or saw his blood begin to run, he would mutter a couple of words, maybe a line or two, and then be just as whole and healthy as before. If he had been a Darkling he would have been close to invincible. If he could call on endurance names like I could, we probably would have practiced with each other for endless hours, him healing himself whenever he needed it, and me continuing to dole out the injuries.

He said he enjoyed the physical work, that he could tell it was helping him. I could agree with that much, when we first started he could only heal himself two or three times before he was so sluggish our sparring became more frustrating than helpful, but within my first week, he could already train with me for close to an hour before he would request a break. Even though he was a better fighter than Chi, it still amazed me how much weaker he was than my own kind, how fragile human bodies were in comparison to the creatures I had spent the last many months around. I had to constantly remind myself that he was human, just human, just a man. He had certain abilities most did not, but that didn't change his strength, his weakness, beyond his healings.

Abraham constantly felt the need to remind me that Ailech wasn't a Half, or even a weak descendant of my kind, just a normal man who could die of something as small as a fever. Ailech always scoffed at that, apparently not agreeing with how delicate his mentor thought he was. I silently sided with Ailech, even though he was only human, he didn't fear any injury and was always willing to work with me, even when he was tired or sore, something a more 'delicate' man wouldn't have done.

I understood the edge Ailech always had in his eye, why he was so quick to try and annoy me, always looking for a fight. Why he said whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted, even if it would result in me hurting him. I don't know what it was he had bottled up, what had happened to him to make him have the draw to danger he did, to pain, but I knew it was there, just like it was in me, searching for a weak point to break out through. He had just had years of practice to cover it.

He couldn't be content living like he did, he never would be. He had the kind of soul, the kind of drive, that called for conflict, violence, and since he couldn't get it in his current life, not really, he tried to get tastes of it whenever he could, usually through me. Coupled with his total disregard for his own safety or comfort, I was unhealthily curious as to what had happened to him in his past. People didn't just naturally grow into the man he was, one who didn't flinch at a snapped leg, one who constantly tried to step on the toes of someone like me. As much as everyone else tried to avoid upsetting me at any cost, he did the opposite, often provoking me, especially when he sensed I was in a foul mood. I wished I could look into his mind, see what had made him how he was, but I refused to ask him. I didn't want to talk to him, to anyone, except Abraham I suppose, when I had to.