Surfacing (CC,M/L,TEEN/MATURE) Ch 13 -12/04/05 [WIP]

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Caelan
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Joined: Tue Jul 29, 2003 7:04 pm

Surfacing (CC,M/L,TEEN/MATURE) Ch 13 -12/04/05 [WIP]

Post by Caelan »

Title: Surfacing
Rating: TEEN/MATURE
Paring: M / L
Author’s Note: Don’t own anything. Please review.
Summary: (Liz POV )She's doesn't know who she is. Her whole identity is based on the lies they give her. What happens when someone appears and shows her the person she used to be. Can she really get her life back?
Timeframe: The pod squad ends up leaving Roswell in the pilot.
There are no dupes in this mainly so when people refer to Zan they're talking about Max. They just don't know what his name is on Earth. I hope that makes sense.

Prologue

Beginnings are the artificial constructs of man: An attempt to reign in and control the fluidity of time, a way to denote changes from previous states into new evolved entities. From the darkness of point A, light now emerges creating point B.



But what if you couldn’t track your beginnings?



All reference points and beacons having been washed away by an unknown force. Like a wanderer, you move restlessly from moment to moment because without beginnings you can have no endings. A fragile symbiotic relationship once destroyed leaves you set adrift in a sea of nothingness.



I could begin my story at the moment I awake from the darkness trapped behind iron bars. The stink of blood and rotting flesh mingles in the air. How I reach up to run my fingers through my long black hair, but find only black fuzz. I could tell you about the brand burned into back of my neck marking me as one of “them.” Trapped body and soul I let details slip away from me so maybe that’s not the beginning.

Maybe the beginning starts when they free my body. When Khivar wraps a threadbare blanket around my shivering shoulders, and speaks so elegantly on the evils of human fear and persecution. How he will always keep me safe and no one will ever hurt me again.
I don’t believe him of course. I know he wants something. No matter the species they always want something. He soon shows his true self.


No, I will have to say that the real beginning starts when I stop looking for it. I stop trying to order, classify, and examine the chaos. I move with the darkness not against it. That’s the thing about not having any real established memories. You get to make things up as you go along. Define your true self through impulse. I sometimes think about who I might have been before the darkness.


A sweet, innocent, naive girl.



The problem is I’m not the girl anymore and maybe that’s the exact beginning I’ve been looking for.



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~




The night is darkening round me
The wild winds coldly blow
But a tyrant spell has bound me
And I cannot cannot go
~ Emily Bronte

Night descends over the city as I walk through the street. I’ve always liked the dark. How it blots out the sun, and clouds, and other distractions of the day. Its uniformity serves as a comfy blanket that briefly covers the many H&K satellites whirling above my head.

His precious babies.

That’s what Khivar calls them while his weapon experts tend to shy away from such paternal feelings.


To them, they are simply thermal nuclear sentients. But both names really do not do them justice.

For once, humans seem to be correct in their lower level observations in emphasizing results over form.
They call the weapons simply hunter killers. Whose efficiency in tagging and subduing people surprises even myself. Within their metal shells lie bundles of optic nerves and sensors. Constantly watching, listening and waiting, a prison man cannot see, but always know is there he tells me laughing harshly and how this ever present fear makes him a god among ants.


For some reason or other, he seems to forget that I happen to be one of those ants. But that’s the thing with taxonomy; you really can’t classify an item by looking at its abilities alone. I may be able to shoot energy from my hands, see the future, and sometimes heal, but it’s the inside that counts. And when it comes down to it, I’m nothing like him or I like to think I’m not.



Yet, I’ve done things, terrible things to the species I claim as my own. Flying high on the drugs, they forced down my system. The images had come too fast for me to register and hide away from Khivar’s prying eyes. There’s no telling how many bases or settlements I revealed to him or how many people I helped him kill. My fingers absently wander up to the brand on the back of my neck. The mark my own people gave me because my identity strayed to close to that of the enemy. As with any conflict, no side is entirely innocent.



I stop suddenly at the wanted poster pasted on the side of a brick building:
“Five thousand Khivarians, for the successful capture of the terrorist leader known as Zan. ” The large red letters blare.



My lips turn upwards in a bit of smile. For all his H&K’s, soldiers, and weapons, Khivar still doesn’t have a clue. He ‘s stuck in the past using bribes and torture. Tools that might have worked in the first conflict but he refuses to see the playing field has changed. For all their intellectual superiority, Antarians can still not fathom why people persist in fighting a war they can’t win. The illogicalness of the situation confuses them to no end. So Khivar places his posters all over town, fancy band aids to cover up his own ignorance. The fact that he still does not know the true name in which to call his hated enemy. I’m for one am glad that my visions never seem to stray in that direction. There’s a mist that surrounds Zan that even I can’t seem to part.


Large raindrops begin to fall causing the ink to run down the sign in a small stream. A zigzagged line of light appears in the sky followed by a low rumble. Stepping underneath an awning, I wait for the storm to pass. I lean my head back against the wall, close my eyes and listen.

“Mom, she had loved him ever since they had been kids you can’t expect her to get over it just like this,” a girl’s voice sounds beside me.

“Well, if Zan could be caught we could get off this accursed planet and no one else would have to die.”

I open my eyes at the sound of his name.

“I for one hope he isn’t,” the girl counters. “ Knowing what he looks like would put an end to all my fantasies about him being some blonde Adonis,” she ends dreamily.


“He isn’t,” I reply with a certainty whose strength surprises me.


“Do you know him?” the girl asks.



My cheeks redden while I silently pray that there are no H&K’s currently recording this conversation. “You’re not the only one who dreams about him.” I cover. Only for some reason my dreams always feel so real.



“Half the city dreams about him,” her mother deadpans.


The girl runs over to me happy to find an ally in her devotion. “Did you know my best friend knows a guy whose girlfriend’s sister knows a girl who says Zan’s not just fighting to rid Earth of Khivar. He’s doing it all for a girl, he loved but lost. Isn’t romantic?” She squeals.


“Yes, really,” the woman dismisses as she flicks open the umbrella. “Shyla now, stop bothering the nice lady and let’s go.”



Shyla gives me a friendly wave before she and her mother disappear behind an alleyway. To think, he does it all for a girl. It’s probably a bunch of rubbish, but it’s a nice thought. Even Zan, the alien hybrid has a past, a history. I can’t help but feel a little envious. Where he has memories of his first kisses with her, favorite birthdays, and friends, I have none. I am nothing but a blank slate for people to project their own image on. Khivar tells me that it is the price that I paid to become an oracle. To see the future, I had to give up the past. For some reason, I can’t imagine that I did that willingly.



My thoughts turn toward the present. Flipping up the flap of my bag, my fingers wander along a book’s leather spine. In my eyes its worn cover seems like a strand of the most precious jewels.



Someone once told me that life was about moments random events converging into each other. Like the fact that Khivar happened to be out on a mission, so I happened to have the perfect opportunity to slip out of the palace and where my path happened to cross a frantic father whose wife happened to be in labor. Seeing the blue jewel glistening in my forehead the sign of a high priestess, he had begged me to come save his wife and child. After ten hours, the child had come. They had been so grateful they had wanted to name her after me. It had been one more reminder of my ill-fitting identity that my name the concrete representation of myself is not my own. The way it rolls of my tongue seems almost foreign, but the couple had given me something more precious. A book published before Khivar and his army had come and burned most of them. I may not have my own history but through books I remember man’s collective one. Every amazing feet, tragic defeat, and amorous story has become part of my own.



My eyes fall on a couple kissing passionately across the street. But books have their problems, they’ll never ever compare to the real thing. Sometimes I imagine that I gave up my mind to save some great love out there, but I know it’s just a daydream. No Prince Charming has come for me, and I am pretty sure that no one will every come. Maybe, it’s true. No one wants me.

“Hey,” his voice says behind me as two arms slither around my waist.
You know what I said about having someone want me; this was not what I had in mind.

Silas presses his cold lips to the back of my neck, while I taste bile in my throat.

In all the books that I have ever read, they always talk about love as a passion, a torrent, as being warm not freezing. The heroine certainly never wants to throw up on the hero, but then again I can’t ever remember what being in love feels like so maybe the books got it wrong.

“I missed you,” he says as he turns me around and pushes me up against his firm chest.



Nope, there is no heat here.

Definitely not.

These are the moments that I believe that there had to have been someone else. Some one whose touches make me burn, whose kisses made me feel wanted.

Speaking of kisses, his lips are hovering dangerously close to mine. I brace myself as his tongue barrages it way into my mouth while his hands hold my head in a vice like grip. Subconsciously, he has to know the very sight of him makes my skin crawl, but I resist the urge to pull away. Khivar’s voice echoing in my ear that he can make my life very uncomfortable if I choose not to comply with his demands. That my unique mutations must be preserved through Silas and mine offspring. I know there’s something more underneath this veiled explanation. I glance up at his cruel blue eyes and imagine them to be a warm brandy wine color.


That almost makes this palatable. Weaving his hands in my hair, I can hear his wrist watch ticking next to my ear. A not to subtle reminder that while Silas has confined his efforts to kisses that my time will soon be running out. I may not know a lot of things about myself, but I’m not ready to be anybody’s mother, and there is no way that this person here is destined to be my child’s father.



TBC?
Last edited by Caelan on Sun Dec 04, 2005 12:51 pm, edited 30 times in total.
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Caelan
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Posts: 53
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Post by Caelan »

Shout outs: I want to think destinysucks, alienmom, roswellian137, cherie, roswellluver, extingman for reviewing. :D

As to the identity of the oracle, it's Liz but to the cause of her amnesia that must remain a mystery because I'm evil and I'm not going to tell. :D

I've added a nifty prologue that forced me to change the structure of Chapter one, but I've kept the basic plot structure so there should not be too much a disruption. Again, I want to thank everyone for reviewing and I hope that you like this chapter just as much as the last.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Thy mind is ever moving
In regions dark to thee;
Recall its useless roving—
Come back and dwell with me
~ Emily Bronte

Chapter 2: Darkness

Two seekers buzz over my head scanning for any unauthorized movement. The light from their mechanical eyes creates dull shadows on the marble floor. As they move around the room, I watch the shadows grow larger than diminish again.


Darkness is a funny thing. One could consider it a completely abstract entity that really has no form. In its essence, darkness represents an inability to make out details. A scene does not change in the dark only one’s access to the image. However, crouched behind this giant stature of Khivar waiting for the seekers to leave, I have to disagree. To me, perception is everything.



The seekers let out a low whistle and then flutter out the room. Doing my best impression of Sydney Bristow, I dart from statue to statue. It’s funny.
The things I can remember. I can picture Michael Vartan’s deep blue eyes, recite the elements of the periodic table, and definitely tell everyone that the Star Wars prequels do no justice to the originals. It’s like my mind is bag of M&Ms. Where someone has eaten all the colors except the brown ones. And no matter how hard I try; the package can never be refilled.



The echo of footsteps on the marble floor causes me to hide behind two columns.


“Well Vilandra, how do you like your new home?” Khivar’s voice booms.


Vilandra.


He’s found Vilandra.



My heart sinks for her. Since my time here, I’ve heard stories upon stories about how Vilandra was a great beauty, had a voice like a nightingale, and no other woman could compare to her. Trapped in the past, Khivar never considers she might be different. Instead, he firmly believes that he can switch on the light and his image of her will still be the same. I peek out from the statue to get a look at her. Clad, in her black pants and tank top one word comes to mind.


Normal.



She hardly looks the image of the haughty princess.


“Vilandra,” force now slips into his tone.


“Answer him,” I whisper.


“My name is Isabel,” comes the clipped reply.

A spasm of anger crosses his face as he clinches his fists at his side. Roughly he grabs her by the arm, and shoves her into an adjoining room and slams the door.



Yeah, that’s one way to win her over. I stare at the door for a long time, but finally leave. There’s nothing I can really do for her. We’re all his prisoners, and the sooner she learns that the better.


As I enter my room, Claudia, my cat presses against my leg. Picking her up in my arms, I listen to her purr. That’s when I see her prone figure sleeping on my bed. Her bushel of blonde hair lies limply on my pillow. Rushing over to her, I press my hands to her face. Her skin feels cool to the touch. I let out a breath I never knew I was holding. I always talk about how I have no one, but maybe I’m wrong about that.



Her blue eyes open groggily. “I’m fine, don’t worry,” Tess mutters. “I…”


She doesn’t finish.


From the puffiness of her eyes, I can see that she’s been crying and there is only one thing that ever makes her to do that.



Nasedo and his dammed Destiny Prophesy.


The bed sinks as I lay down while Claudia stretches herself out between us.


“I see Silas found you,” Tess states looking at my swollen mouth.



“Yeah, you think that I if I’m supposed to bare the golden, spawn that Khivar would at least let me pick the daddy.”



“That’s what he is afraid of,” she states firmly. “Silas is weak. You’ve got more powers than he does but if you were to pick someone stronger there’s no telling what the child could do.”


“Tess, don’t start about Zan and me. I don’t even know him.”


“What if you knew him before?”

“That’s a pretty big if. Besides I don’t date my friend’s reincarnated husbands.” I joke trying to keep things light, but from the sniffling coming from beside me I seemed to have failed in that department.


“Nasedo and his prophesy is all a bunch of crap,” she sobs.


Tess you don’t mean that.”

“Khivar found Vilandra. I was there when he brought her in. I always thought when he found the others I would have a family. That I would belong to someone, but you should have seen her. She looked right through me and screamed at me like I was something hideous.”
“She was under a bit of stress,” I tried.

“No, I know I could never be friends with her. I finally realize something. Life is not fated; it’s what you make of it. The thing is,” she adds. “I always held on to the whole prophecy thing because it gave me a feeling that once I met them I would belong. I wouldn’t be lost anymore. It sounds stupid I know.”


I want to tell her that there’s nothing stupid in that, but she will not let me.


“Let me finish,” she begs as she grabs my hand. “I’m not very good at talking about my feelings and I need you to understand something. I always believed that I needed their acceptance to belong.” A large tear drips down her face. “But the truth is I’ll always be nothing where they’re concerned.” Tess shakes her head, “But I don’t need them, because I have you. You’re my family.” She squeezes my hand. “You’re crying.”
Yeah, I am. I’m not one to get emotional, but I can’t help it. “That’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever told me.”


“I mean every word. From day one, you’ve always been there for me.” Her blue eyes stare at me intently. “I would have died if it hadn’t been for you.”


“ Tess. It wasn’t …” I attempt to downplay my role but before I can get the words out Tess places her fingers on my arm and our first meeting unfolds before my eyes.


Instantly, I feel a searing pain wracking her body but even worse the feeling that no one seems to care. Left alone in a solitary room, she knows they are waiting for her to die. Through a haze of drugs, she first seems me standing over her.

“What’s happening to her,” I hear myself ask.


“Her pod was damaged in the crash. It’s just a matter of time,” Nasedo replies coldly. “You should go.”


She wants to tell me to stay with her, but she doesn’t have the strength to speak. Unable to watch another figure retreat out the door, she closers her eyes. She can barely believe it when she opens them a day later, and I’m still there. She tries to say thank you but all that comes out is a shrill scream. A wave of warm energy from my fingers stops her pain. When I try to heal her again, she places her hand over mine. “It will kill you,” she mutters. I ignore her. The image flies away, and I’m back in my room.


“Never discount what you did,” her voice stresses. “Do you understand me?”


I nod my head too choked up to speak.

“And that’s why I’ve always wanted to help you find your answers. So you would not be lost anymore.”


“Tess, I’m not lost.”

“Yes, you are,” she affirms unwilling to listen to anything to the contrary.

“It’s in your eyes, the emptiness, and it’s growing.”

I start running my fingers through Claudia’s fur silently praying that she will stop. She’s getting a little too close for comfort.


“And I finally know who can fix it,” she announces triumphantly.

My eyes immediately rise up to her face. Has she really found the key?

“Zan.”

My face drops. Oh well, so much for hope. “ You’ve lost your mind if your Ex is going to help me get my memories back.”


“That or help you make some spicy new ones,” her eyes twinkle ruefully.

I hit her playfully on the shoulder with my pillow while her eyes fall on my pack.

“What’s that?”


Carefully, I pull the book out from my bag. It may have a worn leather cover and folded back pages but to me it’s like gold.


“The Tragedy of Romeo and Juliet,” Tess reads off the spine. “It’s a good one. Have you ever read it before?” Immediately, her cheeks redden realizing her mistake.


The book suddenly feels heavy in my hands. “ I don’t know,” I whisper.

Her arms wrap around me in a protective hug. “We’re going to fix it, I promise.”


And for some reason, I believe her.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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Caelan
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Post by Caelan »

Hi everyone!!! I just want to give a shoutout to Roswellluver, Watusi Luci, destinysucks, A Rose Is True Blue, behrstars, Roswell 10/2/00, and Pathos for your lovely reviews. They've really made my day. I'm in a writing class right now and my teacher has been sort of ripping into me at the moment. So thank you all so much for taking the time to leave a review.

As to Tess' characterization, I was a little nervous at portraying her as good. I know it turns a lot of people off. But, I thought it might be interesting to have her pushing Zan (Max) on Liz. I've also never seen Tess and Liz actually portrayed as real friends so that made me want to give it a go. I always saw Max as the major bone of contention between the two so that sort of where I'm going with this.

I posted this chapter last week but took it off because it need to be re-tweaked. Khivar's scary factor was not happening for me. I hope that you all like it.

Rating: hard TEEN

Without further ado, here come chapter three.


Chapter 3: The World of Pretend


And as the rain drips acidic questions around me
I block out the sight of the powers that be
And duck away into the darkness, times up
I wind up in a rusted world with eyes shut
So tight that it blurs into the world of pretend
And the eyes ease open and it's dark again
~ Linkin Park


"Incoming seekers," I whisper.

Tess and I dart back into the darkness.

Ten seconds later a squadron floats down the hall.

"That makes forty so far," Tess says, "Khivar has completely lost it."

"He must be worried about a rescue attempt . It would be wiser to wait."

"You need answers, and you need them now. We'll get into the mainframe, find the depositors, and then leave. It's all very simple."

I chew on my bottom lip. It's far from simple. One side of me wants to risk it. Like a siren's call, the need for knowledge beckons me. Yet, I can't forget the jagged cliffs. Mythical beings, the depositors operate beyond the scope of emotion. Existing as a ray of blue light, they know all, but share very little. They see history as dangerous, and illogical. Its unbreakable bounds a trap to all who pursue it. This, they argue, explains Khivar's real reason for being here. Not to protect his throne but because the history of vengeance binds him.

Then there's the more pressing problem.

Tess' health.

"Warping so many people could make you sick."

Her blue eyes flare. "I can handle it. Now let's go," she pulls me out from our hiding place.

A high screech sounds. We both freeze.

A large seeker hovers over our heads. Its yellow eyes already beginning the scan.

“Good evening Lady Ava and other,” its grainy voice sounds.

Other.

My body tenses. How I hate that name. It makes me sound like some horrible mistake.

" I'm Tess and she has a name why don't you start using it."

"A perfectly affable name," the seeker replies. "But neither human or antarian, neither born or made, neither friend or foe, our program classifies her simply as other."

If you only knew the half of it, little robot. I want to see Khivar crushed, smashed, butchered, burn, pick your own destructive adjective if you'd like. How other is that?

"Where would you be going so late Lady Ava and other?"

Tess slaps her forehead in frustration, “well, mom we're both sneaking out to tepee a house and then we're planning to get wasted. " .

“Wasted does not compute.”

I glare at the floating figure. It would be nice not to have to justify ourselves to a machine. But, Tess' sniping could certainly raise suspicion. We need to play nice. “The Lady Tess and I are going to the temple."

"The Lady Ava you mean."

"Whatever." Names, Names. It would so much easier if they would stick to one.

"Well, I'm sorry other but Khivar has called a special counsel meeting. Zan has been dictated in the sector."

Tess and my eyes meet. Well, if that's not an interesting piece of information. We both want out of Khivar's little house of horrors, and Zan is our best bet.

"How close is he?" Tess asks.

"My Lady that is all I know, but Khivar has requested the other."

"Well Lady Tess, we must save our journey to the Temple for another time."

"I was thinking I might just go for a little awhile. Light a couple of candles."

Tess is like a pit bull.

"No, Lady Ava you can't go alone. There all ill forces out tonight."

"Yeah, ill forces," I mimic.

"Then who's going to be escorting you to the meeting," she counters.

Damn.

"I will," Silas' voice sounds as his body materializes from the darkness.

Hello, Karma it's me. Could you please send a little more positive energy my way?

His arm immediately wraps around my waist. Like a chain, it holds me to him.

"You don't have to worry about it Ava, I will take care of her. Right?"

I don't answer. I'm too busy trying to pry his fingers apart.

"Honey."

He just didn't call me honey did he?

"Honey."

Yikes, there it is again. "Tess I'll be fine. I'll see you later."

"If you say so," she gives me a concerned glance.


Before Tess and the seeker even pass the next corridor, Silas latches on to my neck. Like a vampire, his teeth descend on my flesh.
"I just can't get enough of you."

Well, the feeling is not mutual.

"And to think I will soon have Khivar's blessing and," his hand travels down to my abdomen.

I push him away, "we're going to be late."

His arms grab me and shove me against the wall. "I think you have forgotten your position here. As an abomination no man or antarian will ever want you." Silas' fingers dig deeper into my skin. "If it wasn't for your unique prophetic abilities I wouldn't even be interested. I will take your obstinacy up to a point, but do not overstep your boundaries with me. We will be bonded, your visions will become my property, and there will be a child."

Sometimes, I can't believe his stupidity. He has no clue in his place in this. That the moment I conceive, he will be killed. I'm Khivar's toy not his.

"Look at me." Malice dances in his icy eyes. "Do I make myself clear?"

I glare at him before lowering my head. If there's one thing I've learned here is that I have to pick my battles. To challenge him outright would have serious consequences.

He lets go of me. "I can make you happy if you'd just stop making me hurt you."

Or if you would drop dead.


I follow his figure ten spaces behind. The proper positioning for a taken antarian woman.

No man or antarian will ever want you.

Even if he doesn't love me, Silas still knows how to hurt me. I try to ignore it. Tuck the pain inside of me. Yet everywhere I turn, the awful truth stares back. I don't belong anywhere, and I don't belong with anyone. While fibers deep inside whisper of some connection, the sounds are growing fainter. If someone had cared for me, he would have come.

I glance up at the guards as we pass through the mainframe. He wouldn't have left me here in this prison. Where the walls seem to be closing in on me with every new day. He would have come. Why hadn't someone come?

Red sensors scan my body looking for weapons. If only I had a bomb, I could end it all in one dramatic finale. I push my emotions down. Wallowing will get me no where.

I have to think.

I have to act.

I have to get answers.

We move into a glass corridor. From the other side of the partition, a blue light shines. The air around me crackles. The depositors are near.
I stop and place my hands on the glass.
With my mind, I try to reach out.
Please, tell me who I am?

Trust in the king.

Khivar? I don't get it.


My finger tips begin to glow.
A girl's face appears.
She looks like any normal girl.
Brown eyes and a pert nose.
Her hair held back in a loose pony tail.
Dressed in some sort of green uniform.
Yet there's something about her.
Her hair is longer and darker and she wearing a lot less makeup but she sort of looks like---

Silas yanks me away from the glass.

The image fades.

"What is wrong with you?" he barks.

"You," I hiss barely containing my fury.

A rumble sounds as two large metal doors part to reveal Larek. Deep creases line his forehead. He's definitely pissed.

"You're late," he says as we enter.

"It was her fault," Silas answers.

Larek's face softens, " Khivar wants you now Silas. I need to talk to the Oracle in private."

Silas scowls at him then retreats.

"You ok?" he asks.

My body flinches. I don't want his pity anymore. It can't help me. I run my fingers over one of the numerous computer keyboards. A crisp picture of the desert appears. Beside me, twelve technicians huddle over their consoles. Every five minutes a low whistle sounds, red and green lights blink. Paper spits out printers; the latest data from the seekers and H&K's

So utterly efficient. Twelve beings to control millions.

"I'm never going to get away am I?"

"We all have roles we have to play in life, and this one is yours. Challenging Silas isn't part of it."

I whip around to face him,” and maybe I'm tired of playing the part. Have you ever thought of that? I'm losing myself in it. That's why you have to tell me who I was before."

His forehead wrinkles even more. "That would be a disloyal act to my king," he finally says.

I strike the delete button hard. "Then don't ask me if I'm o.k.," I breeze past him ignoring his pained expression.

Taking my seat, I wait.

Wait for the same question that has been the one constant in my life.

Khivar looks up from the glow spider lying in his palm . "Do you have any information on Zan?"

"No."

A frown forms on his lips.

My hands shake.

I know that expression.

He places the spider on the table.

A bright light glows from its thorax then dims.

Balling up his fist, he crushes the creature. "Things that don't fulfill their purpose get replaced," he states.

I stare at the iridescent spot, "something could come at anytime."

"That it could, but will it? I prefer to operate in the realm of certainties." Reaching into his jacket pocket, he brings out a vial of Crush.

My mouth grows dry, "I don't need that."

"Sir we better start," Larek tries to interrupt.

Khivar waves him off, "I need Zan eliminated now. I've wasted enough time hunting for him." With his index finger he clinks the bottle, "and this my dear seems to be only way to get anything out of you." He slides the bottle across the table to me.

I watch as the blue narcotic settles back to the bottom.

Part of me wants it, craves it, and needs it. Knows that it will give me acess to places I've never seen before.

While the other, fights against it. Knows it serves as just another bar in my cage.

"Take it," Khivar's voice orders.

"Please, I haven't needed it for months. Don't make me take it."

"Don't make me repeat myself."

My eyes glance around the table, looking for help. The other members refuse to look at me.

I've lost.

I unscrew the cork. With the pipette, I drop three drops into each eye.

It stings. In four hours, the pain will be unbearable.

"Now was that so hard?" Khivar asks.

I resist the urge to jump across the table and strangle him. It took me four months to get off it the last time.

My shoulders shiver. Cold chills, one of the first signs of the drug taking control.

I wrap my cloak tighter around me.

Placing my head on the table, I study the spider's crushed remains.

My destined fate if I don't find a way out of here.



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Thoughts, comments, think Tess is just a little to passionate about helping the oracle? Want Khivar to die in a most gruesome way, think Silas seems to be channeling Julia's evil husband from Sleeping with the Enemy, unsure where Larek's true loyalties....... Leave a review..... and I might tell maybe :wink:
Last edited by Caelan on Sat Oct 18, 2003 12:25 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Caelan
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Posts: 53
Joined: Tue Jul 29, 2003 7:04 pm

Post by Caelan »

Thank you Roswellluver, xsuper_novax, and Roswell 10/2/00

Roswellluver
Poor Liz, Khivar has got to go!
Wait, to you see how Khivar gets it.. :twisted: Of course he will not be getting it anytime soon
xsuper_novax wrote:
how old is everyone in this fic? it seems like this girl, who i'm assuming is Liz, has been with Kivar for a while. what happened that Kivar was able to get his ucky hands on her? I think he may even know exactly who she is and what she was to Zan. It would be the perfect revenge.
Thanks so much for your review. See the worst problem I have when writing is filling in backstory. When to do it, how to do it so it's not just boring facts. I have no way to fill in these blanks so I'm just going to tell them.

The oracle has been a resident at the casa de Khivar for five years, which is how far her memory stretches back. She's currently 24 years old.


Roswell 10/2/00 ~ Erin once again I want to say your story is excellent, and I really enjoyed reading it. Thank you for your review you are so
kind.


So I realize that last chapter was bit dark, will this one is going to be way darker. I have tendency to get full blown angst, but I promise help will be coming for the oracle. And the story will begin to get a little lighter starting with the next chapter :D


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter Four: The Serpent's Tooth

What so false as truth is,
False to thee?
Where the serpent’s tooth is
Shun the tree-
~ Robert Browning

My eyes spring open. The threads of a vision entangle me. Fear, pain, anger, assault me. Their claws pierce my mind like angry birds of prey. Against my will, my body lets them in. Inhales, devours, and drinks every sinister emotion. Its energy a lifeblood that I can’t deny even if I wanted to.

Bound by the being that changed me, I have no other recourse but to accept. My body is a hungry vessel that must be filled, filled with visions.

I throw off my sheets and stumble into my bathroom. A wave of nausea brings me to the floor. Its insistent fingers push harder and harder on my stomach. I rock back and forth silently begging it to stop.

The shrill sound of the H&K’s surfaces. Its banshee wail erupts in my head. I place my hands over my ears to block out the sound. It doesn’t work.

Sliding into the corner, I wait for the impression to pass. I have to stay calm or he will come. My eyes dart around the titled room. There’s no light. I let out a ragged breath.

My head lurches back. Bodies, blood, rubble dance before my eyes. The stench of death surrounds me.

There were no survivors.

There would be no survivors my mind corrects.

But that mere fact isn’t the worst part of the vision, it’s the fear. The way it seeps from the victims into my own body. Stretching me this way and that, I cannot hold it. .

My heart rate beats erratically. A thin sheen of sweat covers me. Adrenaline surges readying me to move. A prisoner of evolution, it fails to see the threat exists only in my mind.

I cannot fight it.

I cannot run from it.

These are times that I hate my changer the most. Too antarian to be human and too human to be antarian, my body seems forever at war with itself. Created in such a contradiction, it allows me to journey where few can follow.


My breath and heart beat return to normal. The sickening feeling of fear diminishes. With my hands, I pull myself up.

“He’s dead. Zan is dead,” a voice sounds in my head.

My knees give out. I land with a small thud on the cold floor.

“It can’t be,” I whisper.

“He’s really dead,” it repeats opening a huge chasm within me. My voice chokes, and I’m crying again. Hot tears rush down my face. An emptiness fills me that I know no vision will ever satisfy.


I feel sad. Sad for someone I don’t even know. Why should his death feel any different? I’ve seen hundreds die in my visions.

With my mind, I try to reach out for more stimuli, more details, anything to make it clearer. Yet, the harder I try. The more the sensations retreat into mere fragments of knowledge. Tiny slivers that make forming a picture impossible and then they disappear entirely.

I shiver, but it’s not because of the loss. I’m no longer alone.

Khivar’s tall frame stands over me. I have no idea how long he’s been there.

No matter how hard I try to hide it, he always knows when I’m having a vision. Courtesy of some sort of connection that binds us. It makes me sick just thinking about it. .

His slender hand reaches out and pulls me off the floor, “you look like hell.”

Way to state the obvious.

He wraps a bathrobe around my shaking shoulders and guides me back into my bedroom.
“ I don’t know how you do it, see what you see," he says placing me into a chair. "Many Antarian oracles have not had your strength. They normally don’t live past the age of twenty."

Whether it's the use of Crush or Khivar's more undesirable method of gaining information, few can say. Yet, the results are always the same.

Insanity, and a slow agonizing death.

This destined future clings to me, and he knows it.


“It’s such a difficult burden. If it weren’t for our mutual relationship, I really don’t know how you would be able to handle it.”

When it comes down to it, the solution is quite simple. An evolutionary flaw to keep oracles in check. I’m supposed to share my visions with the king. Of course, it could be just another one of Khivar’s lies. I really don’t know anymore. Because if this is something I’m supposed to do, why does it feel so wrong.

His hand reaches up and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear.

The king. I’m supposed to share my visions with the king.

Trust in the King.

Wonderful advise depositors.
I know too much about the king to ever trust him.

My eyes follow as his fingers move up to my temple. His movements are always the same. Violence cloaked in gentleness. It’s how he rationalizes what he does. Prying into my head, when he knows it’s the last place I want him.

“I don’t remember anything,” I say trying to delay the inevitable. “It was jumbled.”

His fingers press harder on my head. “Let me be the judge of that.”

He starts off gentle enough. A slight pinprick serves as the only sign. He peels away memory after memory leafing through them like I’m so damn book.

He pauses momentarily. A slight frown appears on his face. I know that expression.

“I’m not hiding anything,” I try because I’m really not. I think of the burns on my arms that he put there. I have no desire to revisit that little experience.


Too late.


His mind rams into mine. All pretext of gentleness dissolves as he rips away any interference.

I try to move away from his grasp.

“STAY STILL,” his mind roars.

“YOU’RE HURTING ME,” I scream.

He shoves me back into the chair. My arms fall to my side. I couldn’t even move them if I tried. Burrowed so far inside of me, he has full control over my body. Yet, it doesn’t seem to be enough. His mind keeps thrusting itself deeper and deeper. If he keeps on like this, he’ll actually be me.

The sweet smell of the drug Crush still lingers on his clothes. If only he would overdose, I imagine his feet kicking wildly in the air. His final breath comes in one lone gasp. It helps to busy my mind until he gets out of me.


“KHIVAR,” Tess and Larek sound in unison.

Immediately, he withdraws.

Dazed, my eyes register them. Backlit from the hall they look like two angels.

“What are you two doing barging into people’s room at this time of the night?” Khivar barks.

Larek doesn’t even flinch. “I’m sure the counsel would be really interested in you performing unauthorized viewings into the oracle’s head. Without the proper supports, you could have irreversibly damaged her.”

Damaged. Nice to know, I’m so valued around here. Quietly, I move from the chair.

“Did I tell you to move,” Khivar spits.

I stop.

“As for the counsel,” Khivar sneers, “they have no control over her. As the Antarian king the oracle belongs to me,” his eyes roam down my body, “as well as any gifts she might possess.”

I think I’m going to throw up. The floor moves under me. I grab on to a shelf to keep from falling.

“Beside,” he adds, “she’s hiding something.”

Larek narrows his eyes at me.

“My lord I promise I’m not hiding anything. The vision he saw was new, which makes it very jumbled. It takes times for them to form a clear picture.”

“And your impulsiveness Khivar might have cost us a very valuable clue,” Larek bites. “You stay out of her head or I withdraw my planet’s support for this little war you seem hell bent on fighting.”

Khivar says something, but I don’t really catch it. My mind drifts away as some other presence latches on to me. Impressions become dull, almost non-existent.

Vaguely, I feel Tess beside me. “You’re bleeding,” she whispers. With her robe, she dabs at my head.

“It’s not the bad,” I reply.

The slight pressure of Tess’ hand disappears.

They’re all gone, or I’m gone for the matter.

Sand crunches under my feet. The walls of my room collapse. Behind them, a rock of stone rises. Jagged and worn, it points to the sky.

I reach out to touch it. Instantly, two voices surface in my mind.
“You mean this was where you were born. It’s beautiful.”
“Yeah, we were the original pod people I guess. It’s not much but at least we will be safe here.”


I shake my head and whatever it is vanishes.

My fear stirs.

The first voice was my own. A slight pain shoots through my head. Someone's here.

“Who ever you are show yourself,” I demand. My anger rising. I’m tired of being manipulated.

As if on cue, bits of bright light circle my head. The particles merge into one blue glow. Moments later a face and a body become apparent within the energy. Strands of long blonde hair sprout from the head as two legs stretch down to the ground. Turning her head, she stares at me briefly. Her blue eyes sparkle with an unearthly presence.


And yes, I should probably be trying to break out of this because particles of light coming into one’s mind and transforming into a person is actually not an every day occurrence, even in my world of aliens and prophesies, but there’s something oddly familiar in the curves of her face.

It’s almost like I know her.

The pain in my head grows.

“It would be better if you don’t think about the past,” she observes, “you’re not ready to know.”

The old be careful what you look for warning. I love it how it’s the thing I want the most that people keep withholding from me. “Who are you? Because if you’ve come to take a little dip into my head, I have to tell you that I’m all dipped out at the moment.”

“You still have your sense of humor. That’s good.” Her red lips smile. Not a dark sinister smile but an expression of genuine amusement, which rarely appears around this place.

“Who am I?” She begins. “Well that’s a rather difficult question. Who are any of us?”

“Three words or less,” I insert.

She waves her hands around dramatically. “Think of me as your high exalted spiritual advisor. The Yoda to your Luke, The Oracle to your Neo, The Madame Viviane to your,” she stops abruptly. “Anyway I digress.”

Obviously, the three word rule doesn’t work with her. “And you would be here why?”

“To tell you that the players are coming, but the game has yet to begin. You need to pick a team.”

Pick a team. How corny is that?

“Hellllo anyone in there,” she waves her hand in front of my eyes.

“Tess and I are a team,” I answer annoyed.

“Wrong answer, this is going to be hard for you to accept, but you can’t trust her in this.”

. “Look I don’t know who the hell you are, but I trust Tess more than I trust you so will you please get out of my head.”

“All right. Have it your way but here’s a little piece of advice. The two of you are on diverging quests and you need to let her go on hers. It’s the only way she will learn. The only way she will gain atonement for her sins.”

“She didn’t do anything,” I defend.

“Yes and no,” she answers vaguely. “She's is going to a place you cannot follow."

I ignore her. This is all someone’s attempt to manipulate me.

Her fingers turn my face towards her. “If you follows her, it will be fatal. Do you catch my drift?”

“You’re lying. You want to separate me from the only person I trust.”

“No, I’m trying to save you both," her face takes on a wry expression, "and why I'm trying to help her, I have no idea. It's ironic."

For a spiritual advisor, she sure does a good job in revealing nothing.

She reaches for my hand but her fingers pass right through it. “My time is running out. Tess isn’t the only you can trust. There is someone coming. Someone who used to be your whole world and you were his. Trust in that.

A wave of blue light surrounds her as her face collapses into a swirl. Her legs shrivel up and her hair vanishes.

My whole world.

I try to grab on to her, but the fragments slip through my hands.
“I don’t understand,” my tone is urgent.

“You’ll know when you see him, really see him. Trust me, it will be a moment for the ages,” she replies.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~




Review please because it feeds my muse and makes me :D :D No reviews make me :cry: :cry:
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Caelan
Enthusiastic Roswellian
Posts: 53
Joined: Tue Jul 29, 2003 7:04 pm

Post by Caelan »

I'm dedicating this chapter to [i]Roswellluver[/i], and Roswell 10/2/00 because you guys are my muse. The fact that I know you are reading and enjoying it ---I hope :wink: is really what's keeping me writing. So thank for continuing to review. It really means a lot to me.

"But I won't cry for yesterday
There's an ordinary world
That some how I have to find
And as I try to make my way
To the ordinary world
I will learn how to survive. "
~ Duran Duran

Chapter Five: Ordinary World


I stare at myself in the mirror.
Past my pale skin, and hollow eyes.

What I'm looking for I have no idea? Some clue to my past that lies buried within my flesh. A way to see the DNA inside me, splitting, and replicating. Its templates a bond to my own parents. A path I could trace if I ever get out of here.

Taking a barrette, I pin my hair into a bun. Smoothing the wisps down, I wonder if my mother or father had brown hair.


Yet even if I knew the answer, I know it wouldn't be enough. There's so much more to life than the ingredients. Life needs its spices. It needs its own stories. Its markers of difference.

I apply a think brown powder to my eye lids. Absentmindedly, I brush a faded scar just above my eye. A scar, a difference, something not inherited, I wonder how I got it?

Tess' reflection appears in the mirror, "You almost ready?"

"Yes." I throw down my brush. "I don't think there's enough make up in the world to make me look any better."

"All you need is some lipstick, and you'll look really pretty," Tess hands me a silver tube.

I look doubtfully at the little container and back at my reflection.
My skin is a sickly white. Small blood vessels slide back and forth as my eyes move.

According to the healers, my current state is a product of an unknown psychic trauma.

That's doctor code for the King got a little too frisky with the oracle and almost broke her.

Turning around, the room spins. My legs wobble. I grab on to the table to keep from falling.

“You’re going back to the healers right now."

"No, I'm not." A bad taste fills my mouth at the idea of having someone else in my head, "besides they said my mental shielding was too strong for them to get past."

"Then drop it. You're not being reasonable. Khivar could have done something why he was---," her lips droop.

I brace myself for the question. The question Tess' been dancing around for the last week.

"How long has he been mind raping you?"

"Does it really matter?"

"It matters to me. You can't keep this bottled up."

A knock sounds at the door.

Startled, I jump. What if it's Khivar come back to finish or Silas?

Tess places her hand on my shoulder, "it's just my date. I left a note for him to meet me here."

"Oh,” I feel stupid. Khivar and Silas have never been one for knocking, "so you have a date?" grasping on to the change in subject.

Tess' face turns a charming red, "please be nice. I really like him."

"Hey, I'm always nice." Green energy begins to spark from my hands, “come in," I call sweetly.

"You're not funny," Tess retorts going to the door.

"But the look on your face was priceless." I lean down to the mirror to apply my lipstick.

"Tess, you look beautiful," a male voice says. Sincerity flows from every syllable.

I like this guy already.

"Thanks," comes the soft, girlish reply.

From the sounds of it, Tess does to, and she never even told me about him.

You can't trust her.

It's perfectly natural to have secrets.

"Stop primping and come here," Tess orders from behind me.

"Well some people have to work to look beautiful." Finishing my lips, I turn around.

Tess introduces me.

"This is Kyle."

I hold out my hand, "it's nice to meet you."

He doesn't move. All color drains from his face. His eyes stare at me.

It's extremely unnerving.

"I've been sick lately so I'm not looking so hot at the moment," I try to joke.

He's still staring.

Maybe, I should put more foundation on.

Tess stands up on her toes and places her hands on his forehead. "Kyle are you
sick?"

Whatever he's experiencing passes, he grabs my hand in a firm grasp, "I'm sorry. You just look a lot like someone I used to know."

I watch Kyle fasten Tess' coat. "It's really cold outside," he mummers. It's a single insignificant gesture, but yet it isn't. The gentle way he ties the cord around her hood. Silas could careless if I froze to death.

Tess heads for the door, "We better get going. There will be hell to pay if we're late to the Bitch is Back Ball."

Kyle lags behind, "the Bitch is Back Ball."

I lower my voice. "There's some bad blood between Tess and Isabel. They didn't like each other on Antar, and they seem to like each other even less here."

"She told me about that, which side are you on."

You need to pick a team.

"I'm neutral." My new approach since dealing with my supposed spiritual advisor.

"A fence sitter," he corrects.

He's a smart ass. I really like this guy. .

"You’ll have to choose sooner or later," he says before moving into the hall.

"I’m trying for the later part." Switching off the lights, I close the door. An ominous thought hits me. I'm never going to see these rooms again. Like a cold chill, it passes down my spine then fades away.

"My lady," Kyle offers his arm to Tess.

She giggles and takes his arm.

"My lady," he repeats to me.

I thread my arm through his.

Kyle turns his head between the two of us. "It's official. After twenty four years, I'm finally a player."

Tess smacks him on the chest.

A sound escapes my lips. It takes me a while to realize it's a laugh.
Faint as gentle breeze, it’s definitely not the sound of someone accustomed to laughing, but I'm doing it.

Tess adds her airy laugh to mine. Seconds later Kyle's deep laugh fuses with ours.

It doesn't stop until we get to the car.
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Caelan
Enthusiastic Roswellian
Posts: 53
Joined: Tue Jul 29, 2003 7:04 pm

Post by Caelan »

Here's another chapter because I got so super excited at the fact of finally including this character when I sat down to write chapter five, chapter six came out as well. That and the fact that I was trying to get out reading Mrs. Dalloway. :evil:




"Instead of spring it's always winter
And my heart has always been a lonely hunter”
~ Madonna

Chapter Six: The Lonely Hunter


The blue Antarian coat of Arms flaps over my head. Rich gold floss anchors the five diamonds in place. A ceiling fan moves it up and down. The movement causes the gems to sparkle in unison. It's such a beautiful symbol for such an ugly people.

Someone taps me on my shoulder.

"You should be proud of yourself my dear. We gained a decisive victory today based on your talents," one of Khivar's general announces.

"How many?" a morbid need to know drives me. Adding each casualty to a never ending list, in the hopes that some day I'll be able to make it right.

"Fifty six," he replies before turning to the Minister of Finance.

"It wasn't your fault," Tess says.

"Tell that to the dead people," I answer.

"Sorry for the delay ladies," Kyle hands us both flasks of champagne. Drinking it down, the bubbles tickle my throat. A warm fuzziness eats away at my guilt. Grabbing another flask off a passing waiter, I finish it to. My only way to get through this night is to be numb as possible.

Khivar appears at a podium.
"Ladies and Gentlemen take your seats," his voice booms. "After searching for years, our Queen has come back to us. Vilandra has returned."
Plush purple curtains part to reveal a woman. Clad in a floor length red sequin dress, her whole body sparkles in the light. A diamond tiara shines from her head. Blush, lipstick, and eye shadow are all combined in one perfect combination. She should be the paradigm of beauty, but she isn't. A green serpentine necklace clings to her. From its band aluminates an eerie glow. Her face represents a blank mask. No signs of expression flit across it as Khivar leads her to the dance floor.

The audience gasps "she has returned," in one collective sigh.

Somehow they find nothing wrong with this resurrection.

"It will be only a matter of time before they find her brother," another general says beside me.

"What did he do her?" Tess whispers.

"I have no idea," I answer.

Kyle stares at the couple. Dark shadows line his once carefree expression. Grabbing a glass of Antarian port, he drinks it down.

"What happened to loving people for who they are? I love you so much I'll kidnap you in your next life and turn you into a zombie." my voice carries a dangerous mix of emotions that will only get me in trouble. I drain another glass of wine. So long for being numb, my new plan is to get utterly smashed.

Hands grab me from behind and force me out of the chair. From the fingers digging into my arms, it can be only one person.

"You're not wearing a dress," Silas says, "are you trying to embarrass me?"

Kyle springs up, "leave her alone."

Oh, this can get ugly very quickly.

"And who are you to tell me what I can do with my property?" Silas remarks.

"Property," Kyle repeats dumbstruck, "what is it with you people?"

"Kyle this is my intended so ---" I try to explain.

"So she's mine to do with what I wish," Silas finishes.

For the second time in one night, all the color drains from Kyle's face. He sits back down.

Grabbing me by the arm, Silas drags me over to a corner, "this is unacceptable attire for such a function."

I look down at my shirt and dress pants," contrary to popular belief my goal is not to make you happy."

His blue eyes glance around. The wheels literally turning in his head to attack or refrain. Choosing discretion, he withdraws, "this isn't over. You will learn to obey me," he grits before walking away.

Four words Silas. When hell freezes over.

Yellow and blue strobe lights flicker over the dance floor. The sweet smell of Crush floats by. Party goers move closer to each other. In thirty minutes, it will be a free for all. One I don't want to see.

Making my way back to the table, I pick up my coat.

Tess and Kyle's faces bare a mutual look of concern.

"I'm fine. I'm going for a walk."

A weight disappears the moment I'm outside. A breeze blows my hair. Cold creeps into my cheeks. Taking a deep breath, I let it all in. This is real. Something that can't be faked with necklaces, threats, and drugs.

The rush and retreat of the ocean sounds, but I can't see it. Large sand dunes block out any view. Preventive bunkers to maintain protection where the H&K's cannot since ocean's salt erodes their programs.

Large draw bridges sway in the wind over my head. Unmanned, all fears of an ocean attack having vanished. The resistance simply doesn't have enough men Larek contends. Meandering, I begin to walk down a path.

Two distinctive voices reach my ears. Crawling up one of the bunkers, I can see the ocean and something even more interesting.

Moonlight shines on Larek's solemn face while the other stands with his back to me. Clad an orange cloak, his figure seems to merge with the sand.


Energy forms in a magnetic pull like two ends finally meeting after a long absence.

"I'm telling you she's an innocent victim of her gifts," Larek states.

"And I'm telling you that there is no one innocent in this. Her gifts as you like to phrase it have cost hundreds of lives. I can't do what I need to do here if I have the threat of her visions always breathing down my neck," the other answers.

They're talking about me.

Guilt surfaces but another more primitive emotion replaces it. Something in his voice draws me in. A cadence, a tone, a warmth, I can't pinpoint it, but it wraps around me. It beckons me to come closer.

"She won't be a problem. There's some kind of guard in place."

He snorts,” she ignores me and helps Khivar kill everyone else that's a supremely comforting. I understand if some kind of attachment has developed between the two of you. If you can't do it, I will."


It.
A lovely little pronoun that can mean a variety of things. However for some reason, I don't want to stick around to see the mysterious "it" materializes into actual fact. I back up. My movements loosen bits of sand. Particles break up and slide down the dune. Pooling at the bottom, it makes no sound or at least none I can hear.


"What's that?" the stranger asks. He throws of his hood.

I know I should crouch further down, but recklessness grabs me. I couldn't walk away even if I tried.

His skin is a bronze color.

An earthy brown fills his eyes.

Two full lips form a perfect mouth.

I wonder if he'd be a good kisser.

An interesting fantasy of him in a pair of leather pants appears before me. Shaking my head, it disappears. I've completely lost it.

"It's was probably a gull," Larek tries.

"No, I sense someone."

From the sound of his voice, I can tell he's nearing the crest of the dune. In a second, he'll be right on top of me.

"On top of me," I mutter. Another little picture floats into my head.
Life and death situation here, get your head out of the gutter. I drop down to the dune's base.


Moments later his figure appears at the top. Placing his hand on the sand, his face blanks out.

Oh please don't let him get a flash of me lusting after him.

"What she look like?"

Larek comes up beside him. "Medium brown hair. She's rather small, but she's extremely stubborn."

He looks up from the sand, "you respect her."

"Yes, I do. Even after all she's been through, she keeps fighting."

"Fighting against us."

"No, fighting to keep from drowning. I don't think you understand what she faces here."


"I'm not here to understand her. It would only complicate things." He gets up and brushes the sand of his pants.

"Would Liz really want you losing yourself like this?"

A sudden pressure fills my head. Pushing this way and that, it causes a stream of blood to drip from my nose.

"You didn't know her. So don't begin to tell me what she would want," he bites.

Gradually, the sounds of their footsteps retreat and with it my headache.


I wait. Seconds tick. Well, I don't really know how many seconds tick. Time seems to move so much faster without a watch. Deciding enough time has past, I get up.

Sand clings to my hair and clothes. Wiping my nose, I start back to the party.

Gulls shriek.

Dark clouds hang in the sky.

A faint whisper of something reaches me.

I pick up my pace.


A dog barks.

Droplet of rain fall.

One word solidifies in my mind.
Danger.

I'm running.

Rain smacks my skin.
Sand swooshes behind me.


A bolt of lightening shoots across the sky. Startled, I look up.

Two arms grab me by the waist. Frantically, I struggle against a hard chest. A blast shoots from my hand.

It's easily blocked.
"Larek was right you are a fighter," a voice says. The same one just minutes ago I found so sexy but now I want nothing to do with.

He puts me down. One arm holds my hands behind me while the other slides something cold and metal across my neck. It feels like a knife, which means he's either human or has defensive powers only.

"With all your talent you think you would have seen me coming."

"Sorry to disappoint. What do you want?" hiding my fear under a feigned icy control.

"As if you could have anything I want," he answers. The blade stops just above my throat. "Tell me something. When you go to sleep at night, do you see the faces of all the people you helped kill? "

"Do you?"

"Touché," he presses the knife harder into my neck.

Somehow I don't think that was the answer he was looking for.

Seconds pass and still he does nothing.

The rain stops.

Wet hair sticks to my neck.

His tense muscles strain against my back, "do you have the package Valenti,"

Great on top of holding me at knifepoint, he hears voices.

"O.k., proceed to the drop off point," the side of his face slides down my own. His lips resting at my ear, "you see the bridge," his fingers push my head up. "You are going to walk in front of me past the outpost, and anyone else we encounter."

Like hell, I am.

"You try anything and goldilocks gets it."

Goldilocks?

Tess.

Fear washes away any thoughts of escape, "You're lying."

"Try me. I'm just looking for any excuse right now to kill her so by all means do something." He takes the knife away from my throat, "scream, run, blast me."

I can't.

"Didn't think so. Now move."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I know Max holding a knife on Liz, but we have to look at the situation here. She confused. He's confused. Together, they're really confused.
User avatar
Caelan
Enthusiastic Roswellian
Posts: 53
Joined: Tue Jul 29, 2003 7:04 pm

Post by Caelan »

Thanks so much for everyone who left a review. It really made my day. I was so afraid that my story had jumped the shark like my last attempt. I never realized how hard it was write before. It's given me a new respect for writers that write long stories. Keeping people interested is such a
difficult task.
So
thank you again because it feels good to know that people are reading
and liking it :D

Angelohana, and Pathos - Thanks!!!!!
alienmom wrote: he obviously doesn't know who the oracle is! since liz doesn't really have a sence of self, max hasn't picked up that it's her either, eventhough he is touching her! but kyle regonized her!! loyal to the true king!! as for khivar....don't get me started....evil b@stard!!!
Thanks so much Alien Mom, and I'm glad you're back.
He he. You hate Khivar. So do I, but he's so much fun to write though
About Max not picking up on Liz, you basically hit it right on. I get into a whole lengthy diatribe on it at the end of the chapter. I put it at the end so you all can skip the whole thing if you want. When I get excited about something, I have a tendency to go a little overboard about things. :D


Gigo wrote:
This is fascinating! But am I right to think that as soon as Max and Liz get a good look at each other, things are gonna change
Thanks so much. As to the answer to your question, I don't want to give too much away, but it's going to be a little more diffcult than that.


Breathless~ thanks so much. I'm glad that you like the mythology. I was afraid that I wasn't doing enough establishing the scene so thanks. I also have to tell you that before I became a member of fanatics I used to lurk a lot. And your story Downfall totally blew me away. It was fanatistic. The plot and descriptions really pulled me into the story, and elicited an immediated emotional response, which made it stand out from the other fanfic I usually read.


Roswellluver~ Sorry you're confused. Half the time I am to and I'm writing it. :wink:


Roswell 10/2/00~ I'm glad you like the quotes. I love coming up with titles. It's my favorite thing when writing. I have so many cool titles and no stories to go with them. Using the songs to make up titles is kind of my way to make up for it. :D

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The ice is thin come on dive in
underneath my lucid skin
the cold is lost, forgotten
Hours pass days pass time stands still
light gets dark and darkness fills
my secret heart forbidden
~ Sarah McLaughlan

Chapter 8: Underneath My Lucid Skin



Purple clouds stretch like fingers across the sky.

It will be morning soon, and we've been walking for hours. Winding along some trail, the Pacific rushes below us. Trees rise like silts from craggy cliffs. Their black trunks resemble the cold iron bars of a cage where nothing can get through except a gnarled hand with long white finger nails.

"Come here poppet, it’s time for your medicine."

No, not now. Jumping back, I run into his chest.

He pushes me forward.

Keeping my eyes to the ground, I don't look up at the trees again.

One problem at a time.

An eerie silence hangs over everything. Leaves do not rustle. Birds do not sing. He does not speak. Needing to fill this silence, my brain replays his last words in one continuous loop.
"I don't want to hear why you helped Khivar. Turn around or say anything and you're dead."
Clear concise, and utterly effective

If you can't do it, I will.

The mysterious "it" is beginning to take an extremely dark form.

Fear burrows underneath my walls of control. Looking up from the dirt, its fuzzy head eyes me hungrily. Another wall springs up in place. Tess tells me I repress too much. The healers say it's not healthy. Yet right now my inability to handle emotions is the only thing keeping utter panic at bay.

A vision would be nice right about now, but nothing comes. Sometimes I wish my head resembled a Magic 8 ball. Where I could get immediate, definite answers.

Is he going to kill me?

Try Again Later.

Even Magic 8 balls have their limits.

Abandoning my alien talents, I turn to my human ones. My only way to get out of this is to make him see the real me. To soften the image, he holds.

I need him to talk me. My mind seizes on the absurd, "Silas is going to sense this," like that would ever happen.

I brace for his attack.

It doesn't come.

A laugh sounds instead, "because you and Silas share this deep connection. Half the time you don't even let him touch you. "

I can feel his eyes roam up my body. Great, now he's equating me with sex. Green energy curls around my fingers.

"Relax, I don't force myself on women even those who work for Khivar," a seriousness is in his tone and for some reason I believe him.

"Besides you're not my type," he says playfully, "but it's a shame though because I could handle you in a way Silas could never do."

Blood rushes into my cheeks. "Handle me?" I stop to turn around.

Immediately fingers touch my hips, "remember the rules."

"Yes, you don't see me and I don't see you. Are you sure you aren't suffering some undiagnosed psychiatric problem? Kidnap women and drag them all over. Get a girlfriend, these midnight excursions of yours have to be exhausting," I close my mouth abruptly. Way to go, get him angry that's really helpful.

"I had someone once," he whispers.

Bingo, I'm in.
Yet, I can't exploit it.

A pain clings to his words. Dark and potent it mingles between us. Looking for a new body, it leaves his and travels to mine. Its icy fangs sink down into my skin. Patiently waiting for warmth, it wants only to lap it up. A banshee wail erupts when it meets an identical chill.

I'm just as cold as he is and just as broken.

With its tail between its legs, the pain wobbles back to its former prey.


Sympathy for a kidnapper, maybe I'm the one that needs to get my head examined. Remember the knife, remember Tess, I say trying to remain hard.

"She died."

Died or was killed by her psycho knife welding boyfriend?

"I didn't kill her, but maybe I did in a way."

"What do you mean?"

"They went after her to get to me."

"And who are you?"

"The thing is without her, I don't know who I am anymore. My memories of her trap me. They've become a prison of sorts. I know that I need to let her go, but I can't. God knows I've tried."

Ironic isn't it. He wants out from the very thing I want in to.

"What no witty remarks?"

"Profound insights takes time." An unexplainable want fills me to throw him the life raft he so desperately needs. A gift that somehow I know only I can give him, but I have no idea how to do it. Love has never wrapped its passionate embrace around me and then vanished leaving me naked and exposed.

Staring up at the sky, the red twinkle of Venus draws me in. Like a fuzzy radio song that suddenly becomes clear, words spill from my lips, the words of someone else, "I want you only to be happy. That's all I ever wanted."

His hand takes my arm.

Static intercedes, and the song fades out. I'm me again.

"Sorry," he mutters releasing me, "you reminded me of her for a moment, but you're not," he says as if trying to return to seeing me as the enemy only.

The line clearly beginning to blur in his own head.

"When you mean happy," he pauses, "do you mean in the arms of someone else?" an obvious distaste colors his words.

"If that what it takes, yes. She wouldn't want to be an excuse for you not living, or becoming someone your not."

"Following that logic, I should let you and Tess go," a slight irritation traces his voice.

“I was giving you my honest opinion."

"I know," his tone evens out. "I've not talked to someone like this for a long time."

I trip over a tree root. His hands grab my waist again, but this time it's different. They linger far longer than necessary. Somehow his fingers find exactly where my coat and shirt have ridden up. An immediate warmth bubbles underneath my skin. My mind unaccustomed to pleasure refuses to let it linger. In seconds, the ice within me surrounds the enemy. It waits patiently for my command. Only I don't give it.

Of course, my visions take this wonderful moment to resurface. Jumbled as ever, snippets flash.


Authority.

Gleaming Robotic bodies.

H& K's.

Two minutes.


In two minutes, I could scream. It would recognize me and blow him up. Could they find Tess in time? Do I really want to blow him up?

"What is it?" his fingers withdraw.

"Nothing." He's pulling apart my detachment and destroying my control. Auto pilot, it's how I survive. Designated pathways keep me from falling. With a mere touch, he's making me want to throw all it away. To expose myself to the turbulence, self preservation seals my lips. Let the H&K's destroy this potential storm.

"I know, but she's acting weird. Whitman will you just look at it.”

He obviously has some communication device on him.

“Got it. Well it appears you devoted lover has discovered your absence," comes the clipped reply.

He grabs me and begins to pull me along.

My much shorter legs struggle to keep up with him.

Rounding a bend, a black lake appears.

"Can you swim?" he demands.

"Yes."

"Get in then."

"You've got to be crazy. I'll freeze."

"That's the point. H&K's search for body heat along with DNA signatures. They can't find what they can't see. If you had told me about them sooner, maybe I could have thought of something a little more pleasant. Now move."

Throwing off my coat, I wade in, "I hope they blow you up." Cold rushes up my legs.

"They can't because they've been reprogrammed," he calls behind me.

Larek.

A high whistle sounds from behind a pair of trees.

"Hurry up."

In my head, the squadron appears. The lead H & K's yellow eyes shine. Narrowing in on the trail, they see our footprints. Electricity sparks in their robotic minds the closest thing to pleasure they will ever feel. Spurred on, they round the bend.

I dip underneath the lake. Water spreads over me. Goosebumps immediately rise on my skin.

Above me, the H&K's begin their scan. A red prism stretches across the water. Looking for the tiniest bits of information, my breathe would be enough to set it off.

Time passes. The H&K's are if nothing but through.

My lungs throb. Tiny alveoli gasp for air. Shivers wrack my body.

A high screech echoes underneath the water. The leader and his squadron spot a heat pattern. Rushing to it, they scan it. Male: Antarian, their sensors confirm. They retreat. Their program fails to account for conflicting loyalties.

Cold. So Cold.

Bubbles rise to the surface, and the leader is back.

His yellow eyes glare.

Yellow. The sun. Warmth. Sunflowers.

I need to get closer to the pretty yellow.

Yellow, gold, goldilocks, Tess, Maria.

Looking up, the eye is gone.

Two hands crash through the inky black, but they're not yellow.

Picking me up, they hold me to a chest. A warm chest, I paste my body to it.

"Come on talk to me. Tell me how much an ass I am."

Vaguely, I try to remember where I am and who this ass is. .

He tries to disconnect my fingers from his neck, "no," I mummer, "cold."

Words come out about grass and warmth.

I don't understand.

"You have to let me put you down, and I'll warm you up. I promise," he repeats.

He lies me down in green. Green is not warm.

My hair falls around me like some dark curtain. Blocking out all color, yellow and warmth become non-existent. Yet, there's a familiarity in this absence. A void can be just as inviting when it's all you ever known.

Closing my eyes, the black only intensifies. Swirls of grey mix with midnight in a sea of nothingness. Ebb and flow, over and over it calls for me.

"Open your eyes. You have to look at me," a voice demands.

A wave of black crashes over my head and then there's nothing.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hate it? Love it? I know Max is kind of acting like anti-max in some parts but keep in mind the whole he's been trapped in his own level of hell without Liz, and is a bit shut off himself.

As for Max not picking up on Liz, this how I see it. Liz has been through so much mental damage from Khivar and everyone else that there is this huge wall that surrounds her. I imagine it as operating like scar tissue that helps protect her but it also blocks her off from other people like Max. Now floating around underneath the tissue is her old self and sometimes she can access when her mind associates images with things that happend in the past.
I hope this makes some kind of sense. I'm still at the point where I have all these ideas, but I can't really communicate them clearly.


Spoiler: Chapter 9: is called the Veil Did Fall....
Last edited by Caelan on Tue Nov 18, 2003 8:25 am, edited 2 times in total.
User avatar
Caelan
Enthusiastic Roswellian
Posts: 53
Joined: Tue Jul 29, 2003 7:04 pm

Post by Caelan »

Hey!!!! I just wanted to say again thanks for everyone's reviews. They were all so nice.

I have a slight english question that if anyone could answer I would be really greatful.

Bare and bear~ when you're trying to say they handle a burdon which one is.
Bare a burden ~~~ I think it's this one
Bear a burden ~~~ because this is the animal but I'm not sure.


Roswellluver~ thanks so much. Liz is going to have to learn a couple things before she gets her marbles back so to speak. :D

Breathless~ I'm glad that you find Max's character and his not picking up on Liz plausible. I was sort of worried about that because a lot hinges on that. It was really important to me to portray that their connection still works even though the two of them have no idea who the other is.

Gigo ~
Of course, I'm also warmed by the fact that Max and Liz have such a strong effect on each other (as no one else has) even though they have no idea who the other person is and they're doing it through all of the mental shields that Liz has up. I guess some things really are chemical, huh?
This is why I love Max and Liz so much. They have so much spark. Few T.V couples have that. I can think of only two others Buffy and Angel and Mulder and Scully. I mean all they have to do is look at each other and boom. For me that works on a much higher level than having to characters that have no chemistry whatsover sucking face. As for their impact on each other it's about to get a lot more heated. :wink:

Pathos ~
I get more and more drawn into this with every chapter, and I think you're doing a marvelous job of communicating your idea's. This is one of the most original Roswell landscapes I've ever read and I'm loving being along for the ride. :D
Thanks. You don't know how that means to be. My creative writing teacher said my writing was a bit trite, which for was the biggest slam ever. I like to think of myself as being somewhat deep so thank you.


Roswell 10/2/00 ~
However they are able to find some comfort in each other and break the ice ever so slightly but just enough to know that their is something there but they can't quight put their fingure on it there is definetly a connection there!!!


That's precisely what I was going for. You really are my muse Erin. As for grouping me with George and J.RR --- you are way too kind.



Michelle in yonkers~ thanks so much. The little walk is about to get a lot more interesting. :wink: I hope you like it.

mlover25, Lillian, Moonlit Jade, mareli, ~ thanks for your review. I'm glad you like everything so far.

Crazeesmilee~ sounds like you can relate to the fun of finals. Good luck on yours. I can't wait until they're over.


So with out furth ado, I bring you part two of the woods walk. :D
Sorry, I'm a bit goofy. I've gotten no sleep whatsover because of this paper I'm writing that stinks because I can't stop thinking about this story. I'm obsessed. :wink:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~






You have been mine before,--

How long ago I may not know:
But just when at that shallow’s soar
Your neck turned so,
Some veil did fall-I knew it all of yore.
~ Dante Gabriel Rossetti

Chapter Eight: Some Veil Did Fall

It begins in my chest.

Heart valves open and close in one steady beat. Blood rushes through tiny capillaries into larger arteries. Neurons open their sleepy eyes. Reason struggles to understand this renewal.

No one can get pass my shields.

Khivar can.

His gluttonous mind is back feasting on me. Sucking the juices out of axons and brain cells, he won't stop until I'm an emotionless void. Only then will I operate at optimal efficiency and see everything. Nothing will remain veiled not even Zan.

My eyes fly open.

His pale face hovers over me instead.

Relief settles into my weary body. I'm safe, but doubts still gnaw at me. Looking out at the lake, the sting of a phantom cold, once so real, pricks my skin. I was freezing. I should still be freezing. He warmed me up. Terror twists knives into my heart. He's an Antarian and just as powerful as Khivar.

Backing away, he grabs my wrist. In seconds, my tepid blood changes into a raging inferno that not even all the ice in the world could cool. "Let go," my voice begs, but my body wants something entirely different.

Dazed, he traces the scar just above my eye. "You're really ok," he whispers as if trying to convince himself. Raw emotions form in thunder clouds around him. The crimson hues of anger and vengeance collide with the deep blues of despair. Spinning at the eye of this disturbance sits love. He thinks I'm the woman he lost. Even with all his ice, he still feels too much.

“Run. He's off in his own little world and you could get away," prudence offers.

"You can't help him,” caution seconds.

"You must help him," a voice inside me screams. One I know shouldn't be there, but after all these years still has a power over me.

Tentatively, I reach out and touch his face. Storms of pain swirl just underneath the surface. Running my fingers across his cheek, I pretend my touch chases away the darkness. A stupid school girl fantasy reality crushes within seconds. He has his ghost, and I have Khivar. Two demons that will haunt us forever, but maybe together we could forget if just for a moment.

"You're ok," he says again, but this time it seems more like a statement than a question.
"Yes."
His thumb leaves my scar and travels to my lips. They tremble in the novelty of the sensation.
Their reaction represents a potent sign of my dangerous expedition. Moving away from designated landmasses into the unknown, I have no experience with feelings.

Here there be a dragon. One who has cinnamon color eyes and a fire that runs through his veins. When he snaps out of whatever memory that holds him, he's not going to find my act amusing at all.

My fingers stop in their exploration to rest at his temples, where guilt spins its potent web. Growing tighter each day, he no longer tries to free himself from its cotton candy like contraption.

Air whooshes out of my lungs as a single image forces its way in.

Sitting alone, he slides his fingers over a gun. He admires its cold proficiency. In mere seconds, all the guilt and pain that whispers in his ear threatening to drive him mad would cease to exist because he would be with her.

My heart constricts,” it wasn't your fault."

His head drops.

Antarian or not no one should have to feel this alone. Winding my fingers around his neck, I bring his face closer to mine. Self preservation screams to desist but an uncontrollable compassion drowns it out. "It wasn't," my lips brush across his, "your fault," I finish. Pulling back, the tiniest of spaces separates us. It teases me with the possibility of a union, but nothing happens. There is no great emotional catharsis or mutual fusing of our monsters. He wants the real thing not an understudy.


No man or Antarian will ever want you.

Shut up, Silas.

Instantly, his lips crash into mine with a heated intensity.

Passion and love pour into me. Drinking greedily every drop, my starving body craves for more, but reality serving as bartender cuts off the tap. These feelings aren't for me. They're for her.

His arms wrap around my waist in a possessive hold.

I forget my fears. For this brief second, I belong to him, and he belongs to me. Only together can negative numbers become positive. I deserve this one moment to experience life as whole and not as a fraction.

His tongue finds mine, and they swirl together. Moving back and forth in some choreographed dance that I somehow know the steps to.

Leaving my mouth, he trails kisses down my neck. His teeth nip at my shoulder.

Goosebumps cover my skin. Vaguely, I wonder at the contradiction of cold and hot merging into one, but I soon grow tired of this idea. Finding a particular tender piece of flesh, my mouth latches on.

But I'm needed elsewhere.

Threading his fingers in my hair, he pulls me back to his mouth into the softest of kisses. Lightly pressing, we melt into one. Everything ceases to exist but us. Touching his forehead to mine, his brandy wine eyes stare at me. No longer dazed or in pain they wait for something.

I move my face across his enjoying the feel of his stubble on my skin, but he stops me. Bringing his eyes level with mine, he pulls me in with their molasses depths.

Electricity rushes through old circuits. Broken pieces slam back together in my head. The mist part to let one word through. "Max." I breath and then jerk back.

The picture breaks, and the haze returns. Ours becomes his and mine again, but the resonant remain. Like some kind of tuning fork, my body hums and his answers. Together they create a symphony of sound, but I can't read the music to it.

This shouldn't be happening. I was playing a role and nothing more. A glimpse at peace that was it all it was supposed to be nothing lasting or substantial. Nervously, I wet my lips. His taste still lingers there. With the back of my hand, I try to wipe it away, but a part of him refuses to leave. I know better. This is a game I can't play especially with an Antarian.

"Liz,” so much love and hope spill forth from just that one syllable that I want nothing more desperately but to be his Liz.

However, a trio of screams erupts in my head ending that wish. I cover my ears, "don't call me that. I'm not her. "

He ignores my protests as if he expects them, "This is going to be hard, but you have to tell me the first thing you remember? I couldn't figure out the extent of it."

Confused, I look at him. What was he doing when we were kissing?

"The voice you hear whose is it?"

How could I have let him see that? Pretend it means nothing he'll stop, “I have no idea. I'm like Grand Central Station when it comes to voices."
Please just drop it. There are some things that need to stay forgotten.

"Come here poppet, it’s time for your medicine," he recites.

My blood chills, and the ice returns in full force. They're all the same. Whether human or Antarian, show any weakness, and they'll use it to destroy you. He's not taking up where Khivar left off. I let him in, and now I'm going to kick him out.

Lies and snide comments form in my head. A potent missile of an insult longs to come out. One that will hit its target head on and prevent any more unwanted questions. Prepping for launch, I turn to fire, but without even saying a word he repels my attack. Lost in his eyes, all thoughts of mounting a defense fades away.

From within me, I sense her surfacing.

Five seconds, that's all it takes.

My mouth opens ready to tell him everything.


He doesn't throw me up against a wall or get me high on Crush.
All it takes is a look. One single flick of his eyes, and he has more power over me than Khivar and Silas combined. He's an Antarian, which means he's either violent, sexist, egotistical or all of the above. His kind break women for sport. I'm not going to let him break me. Confident in my victory, I forget one little thing.

My usurper tries to take control. "You need him," she screams in a mantra. As her voice grows hoarse, I realize it's my own, but this kinship does nothing to soften me. Needs like anything else can be ripped away at a moment's notice and then comes more ice and darkness. I'm already filled to capacity.

"Then you're a coward," she says before I force her back down.

"But at least I was strong enough to handle what they dished out," I bite back.

"Please snap out of this," he sounds almost frantic, "I won't ask any more questions."

His concerned face comes back into focus. "Sorry, I blank out sometimes." Grabbing my coat, I begin to button up the buttons. A mindless distraction to hide from his eyes, "it's been a bad week.”

"I know."

"What do you know?" my head snaps up.

"You missed one," before I can stop him he fastens the button at the base of my throat. His face is level with mine, and once again I find myself caught in two burning pools of brown, "what's your name?"

I answer throwing him a crumb in hopes that he will back off. "It's from the myth. She marries Eros and then looses him," I jabber, "and then she...I don't know what happens next. I stopped reading because I knew it wasn't going to end well."

"Why?" comes the slightly amused question.

"She was human. He wasn't. They were doomed from the start."

He flinches.

Guess, I hit a nerve. "So that's me. And you are?" Immediately, I wish to take it back.

He looks as if I just punched him, "Max," he finally answers.

"That doesn't sound very Antarian."

"I'm not. Let's go." We're near the drop off point."

"But you healed--"

"I couldn't do anything," he says with a quite intensity, "it's always the same when it comes to the people that matter."

He nudges me forward.

Chat time obviously over for the moment. Sudden unexplainable mood swings, he's as an Antarian as they get.

Climbing a hill, headlights flash. Kyle emerges from the driver's side. How could I've been so stupid? To think, he actually cared for Tess. Obviously, they're really good at pretending. From the corner of my eye, I watch Max looking for some crack in his facade, but the haunted look he bares never falters. Instead, it seems to be growing.

Blonde curls peek out from the passenger window. Tess is alive.

Max takes off when he sees her. Pulling her out from the seat, he shoves her against the hood. "Whatever you did to her fix it."

"Max. Come on not here." Kyle says grabbing his arm, "the H&Ks can come back."

"Stay out of this. Fix her right now," he demands refusing to listen.

They never listen. Energy begins to build in me, but I push it back. Blasts won't be enough to bring him down. He's too strong. I need to do something dramatic. My eyes land on the gun holstered at Kyle's side.

"I didn't erase her memories," her forehead wrinkles as she tries to create a warp, but all the color drains from her face instead.

"What's the matter Tess. Loose something," Max hisses. "Maybe without your warps you'll do something you've never done in your life, tell the truth."

"It's encoded in me to protect her just as much as it's in you."

"Wrong answer."

He's angry, and Antarians only do one thing when they're angry. Using my mind, I reach out. Kyle's gun comes flying into my hand. I release the safety and place it to my temple, "You say I mean something to you. Prove it. Let her go or I'll do it."

It has the desired effect.

He releases Tess, "you don't know what she is Liz."

"THAT'S NOT MY NAME."

"Poppet losing your temper now are we?"

Whipping around, I see a flash of white behind some trees. I fire three shots, "You come near me, and I'll kill you. Do you hear me?" my voice shrieks, but it bares none of my patent reserve. Fear clings to every shrill syllable.

"Give me the gun," Max says quietly behind me.

Almost instantaneously my grip starts to lessen. Digging my nails into my palm, the surrender halts. I turn around. Releasing the safety, I point it at his chest. I want him just to go away and take this pull he has over me with him.

His hand lightly passes over the barrel until it covers my knuckles.

Coherent thoughts disappear as my new focus centers on the way his skin feels against mine. How his hand ignites a fire that spreads to the tips of my toes and up to the very ends of my hair. An angry buzz fills my head as each part of my body demands the same attention,” I know how to use this. I could kill you if I want."

"I know you know how to use it because I taught you and as for killing me losing you basically did that already," his eyes blaze with a dark intensity.

"You're lying."

"I would never lie to you," his tone is adamant, "never," he repeats.

"Are you going to hurt Tess?"

His lips twitch, "no."

Yet, there's a second part to my question. One caution refuses to let me ask.

Are you going to hurt me?

Six little words that if they ever got out would mean the end. Permanent proof of the softness that still exists in me. Dormant pieces of a heart or soul that Khivar some how missed. Stimulated by some unknown force, I can feel their roots reach down into my permafrost. A tear falls down my cheek. This is his fault.

I press the gun harder into his stomach, "what did you do to me?"

"Why don't you ask the question you really want answered?"

Heat fills my face.

"I'm not going to hurt you."

"I don't believe you," the gun shakes in my grasp. Antarians can go from loving to psychotic in five seconds flat. Just ask Isabel.

"I promise that hurting you would be last thing I'd ever do."

"If you don't accept Silas I promise that me mind raping you will be least of your worries."
"I promise I can make you happy if you'd just stop making me hurt you."


"You have to let me put you down, and I'll warm you up. I promise."


I let go of the gun, and I have no idea why.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Thoughts and comments... Anything is cool just as long as you don't call me trite :wink: No, promise I'm putting that in a bubble and letting it go as Dharma would say. O.k this chapter was rather difficult. I must of rewritten it five times. I know Liz is kind of hot and cold towards Max at times. What I was going for is that why the emotions are there the higher thoughts aren't. Her perceptions of him are all bouncing around because at times she sees him as the caring Max we all want to take home and at other times she sees him as being like all the phsycho Antarian men she's been living with for the past four years. As for Max, he has to change his perceptions of Liz and realize that he can't ask her point blank questions. Liz is more like Michael now I guess. Sorry for another long winded explanation, but I wasn't sure how effective I was getting that through. Having a whacked out narrator, it's kind of hard to make things clear when they aren't clear to her. Just keep in mind that what Liz says to others is entirely different from what she feels.

Now I must return to my ten page paper on distopia. Ah... Kill me now. :lol:
Last edited by Caelan on Thu Dec 11, 2003 2:32 pm, edited 7 times in total.
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Caelan
Enthusiastic Roswellian
Posts: 53
Joined: Tue Jul 29, 2003 7:04 pm

Post by Caelan »

Hello Everybody,
Sorry I lied about the update. I actually had something, but being the perfectionist freak that I am I destroyed and started it over. I just wanted to thank everyone for their reviews. From them, I got the impression that I'm confussing everyone, which I apologize for. My favorite movies are Memento and Mullholland Drive, and I love William Faulkner, which are heavy on the confussion factor. I'm sorry for the confusion, and I promise things are going to start to make sense somewhat. The trick for the next couple of chapters is to read majoring between the lines, because Liz's perception of what is going on is rather off due to a couple key factors.

Pathos~ Thanks so much for your review. I just wanted to say how much I love Demanding Heaven's Gate. The way you write is just amazing. It reaches out grips me instantly.

Gigo~ Elizabeth-- Back in the day I shipped Buffy and Angel big time. I was so depressed when they gave him his new show and replaced him with Riley and then they had him fall in love with Cordellia. UGH! As for Evanescence, I got the Fallen cd. I admit I'm a little behind on the trend. According to my roomate, they used to be a folk band, which is rather odd.

Roswell 10/2/00~ Thanks so much Erin for your kind feedback. This is my first fic so I get kind of nervious about writing the love, because if you don't write it right it can't get really bad. I'll be sure to send you the love scene. It's still floating around, and Max and Liz are going to have to work through a couple of things first. I just wanted to say how much I'm enjoying your new story. It's so sweet.


Mareli, Tabasco Liz, Roswelluver, Crazeesmile, Reven Eid, Dru, Mlover 25, Liz 1490, Ros Baby, Cookiely, Beeyaatch, and Alienmom ~ Thanks so much for your reviews. I'm gald that your liking where it's progressing and enjoying the fantasy elements. I'm really big sci fi girl so it really effects everything I write.

Norma Bates~ Sorry for depressing you. I like to dabble in the land of the angst. :wink:

Extingman~ You asked a lot of good question, but most of them I can't answer without giving the story away. Here what I can say. Tess and Max hate each other big time, and the reason will be revealed soon. Yet, both have a very strong connection to Liz. Max doesn't recogonize Liz at fist because he only sees her from behind. As to why he thought she was dead, a small clue does appear in this chapter. Sorry I can't give you anymore.

Kath7~ I'm huge fan of your story Between the Sand and Stone so it's real honor that you took time to submit a review.

Elle~ That's so cool that you read in all in one setting. It makes me feel good that you didnt' get bored half way through.

Lilac Stardust~ Thanks so much for the grammar help. Since all my characters seem to be carrying huge burdons at the moment, it's good have that word worked out. :D As for a banner, I was all into getting one a couple of months ago, but now I think it's kind of cool being bannerless if that makes any sense at all. It sort of allows everyone to make up any picture that they want.

On to the story, I don't know about this chapter. So please forgive me if it sucks and with that dazzling preface I bring you chapter 9 :wink:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Blurring and stirring the truth and the lies
So I don’t know what’s real and what’s not.
~ Evanescence

Chapter 9: The Truth and the Lies

Physics states that all movement requires an impetus. Whether it is a slight breeze that ruffles the heads of pansies or a hurricane like wind that uproots trees, stasis is simply not an option. Objects either give into the sway, or they break. There is no middle ground.

Despite this fact, chaos still whips my insides into a frenzy, because adaptation is simply not a good enough reason to explain why I gave Max the gun or why every boundary I construct he somehow crosses.

It's almost like I want him to.

I bite down on my bottom lip hard in response to the ridiculous thought. I would never be that vulnerable or that stupid. Shutting my eyes tightly, I try to block out the image of Max sliding the gun's clip out and reducing it to a useless metal shell incapable of protecting Tess or me.

"It's going to be ok.

His voice replays over and over in my head.

Like hell it is when he holds all the control, and I have nothing.

Absentmindedly, my fingers trace around one of the many burns that line my forearm.

"You still think you have a say in this matter." Khivar says with a cold intensity. "Perhaps it's the ape brain of yours, which means I need to phrase it in more simplistic terms."
A red crimson bolt hovers over my arm.
"I'm stronger. I have the power, and you don't. "


Stop.
Khivar isn't here.

I catch a pair of amber eyes studying me over the passenger seat. Abruptly, I look away and trace the stands of frost lining the van’s windows. One thread becomes two. Two becomes four. Four becomes an infinity of snakes crawling across my skin. I jerk back, but the sheer intensity of this sensation causes the puss, blood, and guts to break through their stitches. Out of this mess, a noxious flower blooms in my mind.

Her legs unaccustomed to standing give out. She falls hard on the dirt floor creating a cloud of dust. She blinks trying to adjust to the darkened cell. In a shadowy corner, two yellow eyes open and a slight rustle sounds.

Using the wall, she pulls herself up nearly gagging on the rotten odor that assails her.

A spear shaped head slides into the light trailing a serpentine body behind it. Stopping momentarily, its bottom half wiggles out from the remnants of a decaying torso. Pink tendons and muscles sticks to the pulsating skin.

Frantically, she bangs against the door.

The snake's bloated body reaches the room's center. Opening its wide jaws, a long forked yellow tongue spills out on the ground. Seconds later hundreds of smaller red versions pour down it.

She only bangs harder. Blood drips from her knuckles.

A board moves away from the door’s small opening. Two pink puckered lips fill in the space, "You know I expected more from you considering the resolve you shown up to now. Why don't you save us all the trouble and open the connection to him."

"I can't," comes her strangled reply.

"Have it your way then Miss. Parker. They say the first time with Serena is always the worst, but without it you will never become my beautiful obedient butterfly. Now fall."

Her body crumples to the ground. A line of red stands just beyond her head. Looking up, thousands of yellow eyes stare at her in hunger.

She should move. Every muscle demands it, but she can't.

The snake throws back her head and lets out a high pitched wail. Almost immediately, the smaller creatures advance.

Pushing air through her lungs, she tries to form one word, but a wheeze comes out instead.

Hundreds crawl up her neck and sink into the flesh. Hysterically, she brushes some away, but there's just too many. Their razor sharp teeth rip holes into her flesh and burrow inside. Crawling underneath her skin, she can literally feel her bones dissolving. A loud shriek bounces off the walls. She closes her mouth, and the sound stops.

The mother snake wraps around her legs. Looking down, she sees the spear shape head move up her body. A tongue shoots out and slides across her cheek.

She closes her eyes. Her mind instinctively reaches out for him, but only a suffocating silence answers her. For a split second, every atom in her screams in panic unable to account for the sudden change until a single fact silences their terrified voices.

He is lost to her.

She had made sure of it.

Her head falls back as a warm body forces its way into her mouth.


Some unseen censor jerks the picture away from me as I swallow the scream in my throat.

"Oh God," I breath against a hard chest that for some reason I know is Max. Taking several deep breaths, I try to get my racing heart under control while my mind attempts to understand what just happened. I look down at the smooth skin that lines the back of my hands. Relief washes over me. “It wasn’t me. It was a vision,” but for some reason fear and panic still slur my words.

Max's arms tighten around me while his he opens his mouth to say something but stops when his attention lands on something behind me.

It dawns on me that we're both sitting between the seats, and I'm practically clinging to him like he's the only one that can safe me.

I don't cling.

I unwind myself from him, but he seems reluctant to do the same. "Let go.”

His arms fall away.

Quickly, I get up and notice Kyle staring at me. My cheeks turn bright red. "I'm sorry for..." scaring everyone, acting like a complete psycho, for not being able to control my emotions better, the list is endless. "I'm just sorry," I finally say.

"You have nothing to be sorry about," he replies.

I slide back into the seat next to Tess. Fear encompasses every faucet on her pale face. “Are you ok?"

She answers by throwing her arms around me in a hug, "I can't believe you're asking me that right now when you were the one screaming like someone was torturing you."

Maybe if I concentrated hard enough, I could disappear right into the tan upholstery.

"I was having a bad vision. My control is off a little because of….”

"Being abducted at knife point and being dragged through the woods,” she breaks our hug and her voice grows ominous. “Whatever mind game you’re playing with her I suggest you stop it Max. It’s sick taking advantage of her like this.”

“Why would you do something like that to me?” I demand.

He doesn’t respond. Instead, he glares at Tess, “while you’re handing out suggestions, let me make one. I don’t won’t to hear that whining sound that some more generous people would call a voice again. Do you understand me your majesty? “ he pauses for dramatic effect, “tell me have you heard from Zan lately?”

A blankness comes over as her mind no doubt cycles through every one of Nasedo’s lectures concerning her supposed Destiny and her failure to live up to it.

“Do you have to be such a jerk?” I ask barely containing my fury.

Surprise surfaces in Max’s eyes before a cold detachment displaces it, “I can’t believe you don’t see it. The way she’s using you.”

“Using me,” I repeat. “I’m an intergalactic Ouija board that everyone wants to control. So don’t talk to me about Tess using me, I know what it feels like to be used, and she isn’t doing it.”

“You don’t trust me do you?” He asks barely getting the words out.

“I don’t know you.”

“Do you want to?”

“What kind of question is that?”

“We’re in range to call the threader, ” Kyle interrupts.

“Fine,” Max concedes rubbing the bridge of his nose while mumbling something under his breath about taking the wrong approach. “ If you try anything Tess…”

“Yes, you’ll kill her and you’ll kill me. Khivar has been feeding us the same line for years,” I finish.

“Are you going to completely misconstrue everything I say to her as a threat to you?”

“Threatening Tess is threatening me.”

“It isn’t the same thing at all.”

Kyle grabs his shoulder, “the threader . In about fifteen minutes’ we’re going to have some very angry depositors down here. Work first then we can all make nice later.”

“She’s given you her loyalty, which is a very valuable gift. I hope you understand its worth Tess,” Max says just before he, and Kyle slam the doors.

I let out a shaky breath that I didn't even know I was holding.
Curling up into a ball, I want nothing more than to go sleep, but a guilty weight settles in my stomach. Instead of letting up, it seems to be trying to tell me something.

“Trust me, he isn’t giving what you said a second thought,” she links her fingers in between mine.

“What is between you to? Glancing out the window, I can see a white light begin to twinkle around Kyle and Max. I turn back to Tess unable to handle anymore alien weirdness for the moment. “You fight like you were married.”

“Me married to him I’d rather be dead. Max is connected to the royal four." She looks away from me.

"I know there's more."

Tess presses her lips together, "He poisoned Zan against me. If it wasn't for him they would have accepted me. Nasedo thought he had found something on Max to force his hand, but then he died,” she stares down at the floor while I repress the urge to tell her that Nasedo doesn’t deserve any of her pity.

“I always thought that when you met Zan there would be some sort of connection,” I venture trying not to upset even more.

“It’s like some great cosmic joke,” she laughs bitterly, “because of my pod being damaged, I can only recognize other Antarians, which gets me no where since Earth is crawling with them.”

"If Khivar is any indication of what Antarian kings are like, you're better of not knowing Zan."

"But it what she wants," she says in an uncharacteristic emotional outburst. "Ava's always buzzing around in my ear, and I can't make her go away. She wants Zan. She wants the family that was supposed to be hers. She wants power. Want, want, want it's all she does. It's never about what I want or who I want." Her gaze fixates back on the window.

"What do you want then?"

"I wanted you out of the palace. You should of told me what Khivar was doing."

I swallow the lump in my throat.

"Zan may not see me as his queen and Khivar may see me as some pawn but that night I decided had to do something. You know the weird thing is I didn't do it because the Antarian queen is supposed to protect the oracle, but I did because I wanted to protect a friend. It was the first thing I ever did, because I wanted to and not because Ava wanted it."

“I may not be much, and spend half my time seeing things that aren’t there, but you have me.”

“I know.” Looking out the window her attention settles on Kyle. Water appears in her blue eyes. "A couple months ago I got a flash him from him. It was the first flash I ever got from anyone, and I thought this is it. Here’s someone who wants me because for me to get a flash him had to trust me somewhat. It couldn't be a complete lie right?"

"Yes," comes the bare inaudible reply as I remember the flash I got from Max.

"I was able to piece together that he was with the resistance. He didn't like lying to me at all. I was sure he felt something for me at least, " she presses her lips together, "I told him that you gave up Isabel to Khivar."

"I didn‘t”

" I had to. It was the only way I could get their attention, but I thought Michael would come." She shivers in revulsion, "I never thought it would be Max. You can't trust him," she stresses. "Something happened a while a back, and it changed him. He‘ll hurt you just to get back at me. That’s why you have to try and find Zan. If you can explain things, he’ll listen. I’m sure of it. ”

I rub my temples, “you know I can't see Zan.”

“You’re his oracle you’ll sense him if you close enough. It‘s a pretty combustible attraction so I‘ve heard once it gets going. It wasn‘t uncommon for kings to have children with their oracles. Many even married them.”

Angrily, I get up from the seat. A bad taste fills my mouth. “I’m not having a child with Silas, Zan or anyone else. As for being your husband’s whore, it’s not happening. I may not be able to control anything else in my life at the moment, but I’m definitely going to exert little control over my own body..”

“You’re going to be drawn to him regardless,” she states firmly.

“No, I’m not.”

“What you choose to do with the connection is up to you? Very few Antarians are actually monogamous. If it comes down to it, I rather it be you than someone else. At least then he would be emotionally invested enough to protect you.”

“Do you know how messed up this sounds? This isn‘t normal.”

“I‘m the reincarnated essence of a queen that died nearly sixty years ago. I have feelings for a human that genetically I should not be having, and you see the future. We‘re not actually living the most normal of lives here that's why we need to think tactically to ensure our advantage.”

“Think tactically,” I stare down at my hand expecting to see something moving underneath my skin. “I need normal right now."

“Look at me. Are you willing to get your hands dirty to achieve this objective?”

I lick my suddenly dry lips, “how dirty?”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Is Tess evil or is she just trying to be helpful a friend while chanelling her inner Lady Macbeth? hm hm hm :?

Snakey Serena is she just a struggling mother with thousands of mouths to feed or a sinister torture device?

Spoiler for next chapter:Max gets Liz alone and they talk while doing infinitely more interesting things. :wink:
Last edited by Caelan on Sat Mar 13, 2004 12:17 pm, edited 2 times in total.
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Caelan
Enthusiastic Roswellian
Posts: 53
Joined: Tue Jul 29, 2003 7:04 pm

Post by Caelan »

I’m baaaaaaaack!!!!!

Tabasco Liz, Roswelluver, Salil103, Smac, Mareli, Lovalien, Beeyaatch. Thank for your reviews.

MLover25~
so cant wait to see what happens when Khivar finds out that Liz is gone.
This is why I hate first person fics, because I would really want to do a scene at the palace with Khivar going ape crazy on everyone for losing the oracle. However, I am thinking a way around that.

I am Dreamer~ Thanks so much for responding. I was really sort of doubting where I was going. I think that’s the scariest thing about writing. As for boss and Liz getting together in Convergence, I promise that nothing else is going to happen.

Gigo~ You’re going to have forgive about taunting you with Liz and Max doing interesting things. They will be coming. I wrote the majority of this chapter, and I was planning just throw it away. However, I going back through and I think it does a lot to explain why Max is a bit pissed off with Tess and then I started thinking I’d be jumping Max in a heartbeat, but I really don’t think Liz would be. Every Antarian guy she’s ever known has basically been abusive to her so she would be doubly terrified of actually being attracted to one. So please feel free to throws at me for not delivering. I’m currently hiding underneath my desk J

Alienmom~ Feel free to throw things to for not delivering. I really tried and I’ve written the scene. It’s just didn’t fit so instead I brought this really confusing chapter J

Moonlit Jade~ I’m terrified of snakes to. I don’t really get it. Snakes have never done anything bad to me. I just see one, and I take off in the other direction.

Crazeesmile~ I’ve really confused everyone with the whole Max and Zan thing. In my world, there are no dupes because I can’t write dupe speak. Zan is what the Antarians call Max because they don’t know his human name. It’s sort of like Bruce Wayne and Batman. I’m glad you like the sci-fi. I love sci-fi so it’s a real compliment when I actually pull it off. As for Tess, well all I can say is she has an agenda. Oh, then for the talk well it’s not happening in this chapter. Feel free to kill me J It’s been written, but then I sat on for two months and decided that it stinks so I brought you this chapter instead. I’m terrible. I’m sorry.

Elle~ I wanted to ask you where you got your quote. Not the Usual Suspect, which by far my most favorite movie in the whole wide world next to the Princess and the Warrior, but the other one. It’s just so beautiful and romantic and I’m such a cynic in that department. Yeah, I’m beginning to have trouble expressing the other characters feeling. That’s one of the downer of writing a first person. I was kind of thinking about that with this chapter. In a way, you sort of get Max’s feelings. Kind off but more on that latter.

Kittens~ Max and Zan are the same. As for Liz, she’s been mentally and physically abused by every male Antarian she knows so she’s isn’t really keen on Max.

Norma Bates~
You are trying to kill me, aren't you
He he he..

What’s the name of your horse?

Pathos~ Glad Tess makes your skin crawl. She makes mine to at time. I don’t know if you ever seen Alias. I sort of want her to be the female version of Sloane.

I just want to say I’m sorry for promising and not delivering. My muse changed and gears and told me I needed to write a story about viruses and Mexico. Yeah, I don’t know. It must have been all the Coronas I drank. So I wrote Max and Liz’s chat like I promised, and I sat on it for two months. However, when I went back. I didn't like it. I think it's a gemini thing. I'm always chaning my mind about everything. To put it in, I had to throw out another aspect, which I just couldn’t. So the little talk has been put on hold. Yeah feel free to pelt me with fruit.

Now, this is rather weird chapter. I’m going to blame it on the Princess and the Warrior. It by the same director who did Run Lola Run, but it’s even better. However, it sort of caused me to write something a little weird, which I hope doesn’t scare you all away from this completely. Here it is and please feel free to flame for going off on a tangent.

Key point: Max and Zan are the same person. The Antarians call Max Zan because they don’t know his human name.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Standing on the bare ground,-- my head bathed by the blithe air and uplifted into infinite space, --- all mean egotism vanishes. I become a transparent eyeball; I am nothing; I see all."
Ralph Waldo Emerson's "Nature"

Chapter Ten: I am Nothing

The sun's last rays stretch over the ocean. Its magenta streams turns the blue water into burst of red and orange. Taking a deep breath of the salt air, I frown. I have no idea where I am.


"You have to stop living by human morality. It doesn't work in this world anymore."
"So your suggesting I live by the Antarian code and go around stabbing everyone in the back then Tess?"
"You shoot blasts and tell the future. You haven't been human in a very long time."


I rub my temples. Think. I was talking with Tess about something. A plan.

"How is doing this any different from Khivar mind rapping me?"
"Why are you going out of your way to protect Max? If you had something in your head Max wanted, he would stop at nothing to get it."
"It will never work anyway. Max is too smart to fall for it anyway."
"I'm not so sure. He's a healer. You need some help and that's enough to attract him to you."
"I'm most certainly do not need help."


Two young girls race pass me. The blonde one stops suddenly at the water's edge.

"What is it?" the other asks.

"What if there are sharks in there? Jaws could be in there waiting to eat me. Sean says sharks like girls the best."

"He was just trying to scare you Maria."

She doesn't budge.

"We'll stay in the shallow part."

Hesitantly, the girl takes a step forward, "ok."

"If only it could be that easy."

I turn around sharply.

"I'm losing my mind. I can't even tell when I'm having a vision anymore."

"I would call this more of an intervention," my spiritual advisor explains.

"An intervention from what?"

"Your own fears. You have to stop running."

Bending down, I pick up a broken shell. "I do not run."

She puts her hands on her hips, "who was the woman in your vision then?"

"How am I supposed to know?"

"Really," she answer dryly. "You're the most powerful oracle in three hundred years, yet you don't know."

"She wasn't me if that's what you're thinking."

"Why?"

"She was screaming. I don't scream. You never let them hear you scream." I throw the shell back. The force causes a slight tremor in the water. Throwing my legs over the side of a rock, I watch the girls heads bob up and down in the water.

"He could help you if you would let him."

"He who?"

"Playing stupid will get you nowhere with me. You should know I'm ten time more stubborn that you can ever be."

I roll of the rock and sink my toes into the moist sand, " and this concerns me why?"

"You know if you weren't suffering from amnesia on top of a host load of other problems I'd try beating some sense into you."

"Aren't spiritual advisors supposed to be nice to their advisees?"

"Tough love. I'm giving you Dr. Phil for the moment. Behave yourself and you might get Oprah," her face grows serious, " You know one of the most admirable things about you is the lengths that you will go to protect the people you love. Don't let Tess use that against you."

A wave deposits a jelly fish at my feet. I dodge a tentacle that reaches out to sting me.
"Leave Tess out of this. Despite everything, she looks out for me."

"Do I sense trouble in paradise?" She regards me intently for a moment, "her plan bothers you doesn't it?"

"Great risks reap great rewards."

"That's Tess talking not you."

"I don't like using people. She thinks if I get close to Max I'll be able to force a connection and read his mind."

"To find Zan?"

"Yes."

"Here's a novel idea. Why don't you take the human approach and ask him who Zan is?"

"Who's the crazy one now? Like he'd tell me."

"You'd be surprised what he would tell you if you'd give him the chance."

"Save it. I don't want to hear it."

"Then hear this. Tess wants Max dead."

No, I can't let that happen. And as if I'm watching a time lapsed movie the liquid pours out of the jellyfish's center. Leaking into the sand, its body dries up.

Zan is dead.

"Why should I care? He means nothing to me."

Her eyebrows arch upwards, "Care to explain your little kiss in the woods then? It definitely looked like you'd be more than willingly to give him a little something something. By the way, that's a nice hickey you've got there."

I flip up the collar of my shirt, "it was a moment of insanity."

"You could use more insane moment and so could he."

"Is that your way of giving me permission to jump him?"

"Trust me you jump him, and he'll probably go into cardiac arrest. He nearly did when he figured out who you were. It's not every day you pull the love of your life out of a freezing lake especially when she supposed to be dead."

"If I'm the love of his life why did he think I was dead?" I sneer. As on cue, the sun crashes down on the horizon leaving an inky blackness in its wake. The once calm waves begin jump into the air, and a misty haze spreads out along the sand.

"Maria, where are you? I can't find you," the girl calls out in a panic.

"You want to calm down," my spiritual advisor scans the waters looking for her.

"I'm perfectly calm."

"Is that why you've transformed this pleasant little beach into a scene from Dracula? I see a bat flapping here around, and I’m leaving. I hate bats almost as much as I hate bunnies and don't get me started about clowns. "

"Sorry," the mist vanishes, and the girls resume their playing.

"The reason he thought you were dead because he saw you die or thought he did. Then he got to relieve it for months afterwards in brilliant Technicolor displays. The nightmares are so bad he's practically never sleeps now."

"How do you know all this anyway? Visions know the future not the past. "

"Time is rather irrelevant in the scheme of things," she retreats into her blue shimmering cloak so only the outline of her face remains visible.

"Stop being so cryptic."

"Isn't that the purpose of the oracle to figure out the cryptic?"

"Did you come here to fight with me?"

"I came here to give you something to think about. This whole thing is going to get a lot worse before it gets better. You can't keep shoving things away that you don't want to deal with."

I sit down on the sand, and she follows.

"Have you chosen a team yet?"

Staring up into the sky, Venus twinkles back at me. "Tess is my friend. Don't ask me to turn my back on her. I won't. I can't."

"Max needs you. Do you think Tess wants to find Zan so badly so she can give him a nice little fruit basket and catch up on old times? There's very few people he can trust right now."

"Are you talking about Max or Zan?"

She responds only with a smile that could rival Mona Lisa.

"Why does it always come back to Zan? He's like this force I can't escape from. Sometimes I think he haunting me."

"Believe me it's the same way for him."

"What?"

"Maybe Karma is trying to tell you something," she adds quickly.

"You're really bad in the information department."

"I'm here to guide you not make your decisions for you."

I sigh.

"What?"

"You know I used to dream of this beach every night. I have no idea why it's in my head, but I always felt free here. I don't remember a time when there hasn't been someone pulling my strings."

"Why did you stop dreaming about it?"

"It's pointless spending so much energy on things that aren't going to happen. There's always going to be someone standing in the wings waiting to use me. I'm like this toy that just get passed around from Antarian to Antarian."

"You have to come to terms with the fact that you may be the oracle, but it doesn't define who you are. There are people out there who love you for you. Max is one of them. You want out of this prison. He can help you, but you have to take the first step on your own. I know it's scary, but there's no other way."

"Why can't it be you that helps me?"

"Certain circumstances prevent that from happening."

"You're not a vision."

"No."

"Then what are you?"

"I'm your friend and that's all you need to know." Looking up at the sky, a shadow passes over her features, " I have to go."

"Please don't. I'm so scared right now. I can't do what you want me to do."

"You can and you will. You're the strongest person I know."

I look down at my sandy toes, "I wasn't strong enough to keep Khivar out. All those people died because of me."

"What happened wasn't you fault, besides, I'm not talking about a Xena warrior princess strength. I'm talking about heart, moxie, an inner Natalie Portman. Whatever you want to call it, you have it, but you need to remember that it's ok to depend on others. It doesn't make you weak."

"I'll try," I answer, but she's already gone.

The sand shift as Maria collapses beside me. "A jellyfish got me. They're going to have to cut my toes off aren't they? I'll never be able to wear jellies again, and I just got some blue glittery ones from Kmart."

"You just need some..."

"Rubbing alcohol," the brunette finishes. She pulls a plastic bottle out of a bag. Carefully, she drips the liquid on the welt.

"Thanks Lizzie."

Lizzie's studies me, "you look lost."

"She should trust the king," Maria adds.

Not this again, "Khivar only wants to hurt me."

A know it all look shines in both their faces. "Khivar isn't the real king," they say in unison.

"I've never met Zan."

"Maybe you have," Lizzie answers, "and you just don't know it."

"Then who is he?"

Lizzie shakes her head. "It's a secret I can never tell. Even when the bad man and woman were hurting me, I never said a word." She scoops up some sand, and it lets it pour through her fingers.

"I hope he was worth all that trouble."

Maria hugs Lizzie to her. "You shouldn't talk about this with her. She can't understand."

Her face darkens, "she needs to understand."

"Honey bear, Maria, it's time to go," a familiar voice calls out.

I turn sharply, but can see nothing. Spinning back around, only Lizzie remains.

"Where did Maria go?"

"With Michael of course, don't you know anything?" Leaning forward, her face hovers inches from mine. "Look at me," she demands.

A slight crescent scar stretches over one eye.

I start.

"Now you're really seeing," she sits back on her hunches. "He loves you and you love him," her voice deepens as she changes from a little girl into me, "and if you can't believe yourself I don't know whom you're going to believe."

I get up quickly.

"You may have no trouble in choosing that murderer over Max, but I do. There's a lot more going on here than your fears."

"Go away," a dark wave swishes over my feet while stands of seaweed wrap around my ankles. "Tess is my friend."

Angrily, she advances. "If Tess was to figure out who you really are how long do you think this little friendship of yours would last. She burry you in a second."

"No she wouldn't."

Her features turn grim. "I'll just have to accept that with Tess we are at an impasse, but it's going to cost you a concession." She grabs my arm. A yellow light travels up my arm turning my skin transparent.

I try to snatch my arm back.

"Hold still or you won't have a body to come back to." Her knife like fingers reach into my chest and pull out shimmering ball of green. Throwing into the air, I watch it drift away no knowing exactly what she took but feeling more naked and exposed than ever.

"WHAT DID YOU DO?"

"To the Ancient Antarians wind was sacred. They believed it could carry messages that the mouth may find impossible to say."

"I don't have anything to say to Max," I scoff.

She levels me with her molten eyes, "you have six years of things to say to him now get out of here."

A wind steals me away from the beach. Carrying me up over the water and through the forest, I listen to the zephyr’s mournful wail. Appealing to the trees and animals, she begs for someone to listen, but there is no one. In her anger, she clangs branches together and tries to knock down a black-cloaked figure, because it is better to be feared than forgotten. Yet, she still feels empty. She stills needs to hurt someone. Hiding behind a tree, she parts the wispy pine needles, and spies her next victim.

"Are you sure you're ok Max?"

He studies the tops of the trees. "I'd be even better if the threader would show up."

"You have to remember that in Liz's head you've just met."

"I said I was fine Kyle."

The wind swoops down on him.

She tells him about Khivar ripping through her mind, and all the other little things he did that she has never shared with anyone before. She whispers over and over that he means nothing to her now. She wants to hurt him, but she wants even more to spare him. She can't give him what he wants, and he needs to leave her before she hurts him all over again. In the end, she begins to cry. She can do that now, because he can't possibly understand her. No one has before. Suddenly, she feels foolish and weak so she halts her confession.

He cocks his head as if straining to find her voice again.

Her intensity turns to confusion. Can he hear her?

"Where's Liz?"

Kyle points to a clearing. "She's meditating or something. Tess says she's transcending whatever that means."

"Can you handle this?" he asks, but he's already begun to walk away.

"Max, the Depositors are going to be here in any moment. I'd rather not be the one to tell them that we've chucked the master plan."

"I'll be back."

His steps tremor through the ground or maybe it's just her shaking.

He spies her sitting underneath a tree. Crouching down beside her, he wants nothing more than just to hold her and take her pain away, but that was something he did before. Not something he can do now. Instead, he tucks a strand of her soft hair behind her ear and waits for the dazed look in her eyes to pass. He doesn't know how she did it, but she called him and that will have to be enough for now. So intent in his study, he never sees two blue eyes following his every movement and her blonde curls rising up like stinging tentacles.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I know the story's offically jumped the shark into a cracked out dreamland. All I ask is that you stick with me. It will begin to make sense sort of soon. I just couldn't leave the spiritual advisor alone because she does play an important part as to why Max wants to kill Tess.
Last edited by Caelan on Sat May 15, 2004 3:35 pm, edited 3 times in total.
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