Echoes in Eternity - Ch IX - snippet
CHAPTER IX
DARKENED SKIES
Elissa Cassandra Duncan
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“You told me that your knowledge of me was a coincidence!”
“No…” he says carefully. “I said ‘did you ever consider the possibility that it’s a coincidence?’”
“That’s too damn cheeky coming from you Alex!”
“What should I have said, angel? You had a hard time accepting what you are, that you’re a Nephilim. How would this go over? And believe it or not, finding you was still a coincidence. The knowledge of you, Elissa Cassandra Duncan, you, in your current life is still unknown to me,” he says, and I’m confused. There is too much to comprehend, too much information to digest and too little time to do it. My conscience decides to take the reins and put me on autopilot. Okay… Okay… Perhaps, I should start asking him questions from the beginning. I lift my head up and meet my gaze with his. I only see willing determination and concern in them. Gaining courage from his caring but worried face, I relax a little.
“Who was my father?” I ask in a whisper. “Did he even like Sarah?” Is this my father’s attempt to soothe his guilty conscience by having Alex locate me? But why would Alex need to investigate for him and search me out? Clearly he doesn’t need the money or the job. Are Alex’s investigative services a favor for my father? A payment for a debt? The thought shatters me inside. Alex sighs, rolling his eyes.
“He had never laid eyes on Sarah…” he starts.
“What?” A sharp question escapes my lips shocked. “How did I come to be if he never laid eyes on Sarah or have sex with her? Or is that not how angels’ children are conceived?” I ask bitterly.
“Your father’s name was Marcus,” he starts. “He was the only one among all the Watchers in love with the woman of his choice. You were the child conceived out of pure love between an angel of Eden and a mortal woman. The other Nephilim were conceived in lust alone, and not love. That’s what makes you unique. You were born sinless. That’s also the reason why the other Fallen are after you.”
“I’m the daughter of a Fallen angel who didn’t have the capability to lust after my mother?” I ask with contempt. Why would that idea sting me? Alex’s responding smile is lascivious.
“I wouldn’t say that. The kind of love they had is always accompanied by lust. But lust alone isn’t accompanied by love.”
“What then? The others are after me because I’m an accident of nature? If what you are saying is true, this…” I say indicating with my hand, “This Marcus fathered me, but never bothered to protect me, left me to the care of others. What difference does it make if he loved my mother or not? I say, not a damn thing!” I can taste the fury in my voice, unable to help myself. The mighty Angel of Eden fathered me, but wouldn’t even protect me, and left me in the claws of Sarah who was ready to hand me over to his enemies and mine. Even though it’s Alex who is getting the brunt of my anger, it is directed towards the father I never knew I had.
“Don’t!” Alex reprimands me sharply as he lifts his index finger up sharply. His fervor towards my father stops me in my tracks.
“Don’t talk about Marcus like that!” When he opens his mouth again, I know he’s weighing the nuances of every word he’s uttering. “I am trying to make you understand your father against my better judgment!” he says angrily. “Because I know if I don’t talk about him, you are going to run. And you are most definitely going to fall prey to one of your enemies and they will sacrifice you! You said that you want to own your life as much as you can. I will see you through this ordeal, and I’ll gift you the ownership of your life. But as your uncle indelicately told you yesterday, your life does not belong to you for the time being; too many Fallen, Darklings and the minions of Hades are after you! So don’t. Run,” he says pained. Those words stab me and my face reflects the agony he’s experiencing.
“What the hell do you mean that my life doesn’t belong to me? How is it fair that your life belongs to you, but mine doesn’t belong to me?” I shout trying hard not to cry, sticking an accusatory finger into his face. He shakes his head.
“My life doesn’t belong to me, either,” he says softly.
“Huh?” I respond to his statement, completely taken aback, unable to utter a meaningful word.
“It does not belong to me,” he says enunciating, willing me to understand. “Do you know what a Rudiarius is?” I shake my head in response, my eyes wide.
“A Rudiarius was a gladiator who had been granted his freedom. He could either obtain it by bravely distinguishing himself in a particular fight or by surviving thirty fights in the arena or five years. The ceremony of granting the wooden Rudis,” he says and I look at him blankly. He smiles, “it’s a simple wooden sword,” he explains. “The ceremony was fairly unusual. The Emperor,” he says with a distinct pride, “would go to the center of the arena and give the Rudis, the symbol of freedom to the brave, valiant gladiator. That simple gesture signaled that the gladiator was no longer a slave, but a freeman; a Rudiarius.”
“What’s that got to do with me? And those gladiators… They lived a couple of thousand years ago. In case you haven’t noticed, we don’t live in a time like that, Alex,” I say fervently as forcefully wiping my silent tears away with the backs of my hands.
“Don’t we? Everyone is a slave of some sort. They’re not called that of course. Slave to an illness, slave to jobs, slave to debt, mortgage, slave to responsibilities, societal norms, to their bosses, slave to laws that govern them, slave to religions they don’t understand, slave to ignorance, slave to knowledge, slave to love, slave to our thoughts, fears, our own mind... Calling it a different name doesn’t change what it is. At times, we don’t even have a say of what type of slavery we want in our lives and maybe some other times we may have a say in it. But that doesn’t change the fact that they still govern our lives. You must set the mind free first. When the mind is free, no chain can keep you down. When you submit with your own free will to anything you choose, then it’s the greatest gift.”
“And that’s what I want! I want to choose what governs my life! Not be told that I must obey a destiny written before I was born!” I have always allowed others to make decisions for me. I want to be able to make my own decisions. Is it too much to ask?
“Hence the reason for my story…” he says softly. “No one gets to choose the kind of life they are born into. You, Elissa Cassandra Duncan may not have anything to do with the cards you were dealt with, but you must choose the way in which you want to handle it. You must make your effort to earn that Rudis. It’s in your hands. I will do everything in my power to grant you that freedom. Everything!” he says, with fierce determination in his turquoise eyes. How could someone pack so much meaning in one simple word? Everything! He said. I don’t have the right to take ‘everything’ from him. He looks at me as if he knows what I’m thinking. He extends his hand out to me tentatively, close to touch, but seeking permission. I nod. His fingers slowly caress my hands, soothing me immediately.
“There were two famous Roman gladiators; Verus and Priscus who lived during the time of Emperor Titus. Priscus was born a slave from Gaul, and Verus was born free but as fates would have it, he became a slave of his circumstances. They had different starts, but ended up in the same situation at the same place and in the same fight. On that fateful day,” he says his eyes bright as if he is there with those gladiators, “during the inauguration of the Colosseum both gladiators fought valiantly. The contest was long, and the battle was equal on each side, equal in strength, equal in skill, equal in determination, equal in ardor for the fight. The spectators went wild, loudly petitioning for each man to be released, shouting with their thumbs up, because, both Verus and Priscus managed to conquer the hearts and the minds of the spectators. But of course Caesar followed his own law, and that was to fight without shield until his thumb was raised. Both in the eyes of the emperor and spectators, only the most skillful courage received its prize. How could you make the distinction which gladiator was better when both Verus and Priscus were equals in fight, and equals to yield?
The choice was obvious to the spectators, but it was Caesar who must choose. And in the end, he found the equal division of the required valiant courage, and sent wooden swords and palms to both signaling their freedom. And they both walked through the Gate of Life as Rudiarii. Romans called this type of fight as Stantes missi, a draw with both fighters sent away standing. Both victors. Both living. Both honorable. And both free. I want that for you,” he says fervently. “I want you to be sent away standing. So, don’t. Run. Away. Elissa. Please,” he says his eyes wide, and pleading. “If you stay, more than one life will be sent away standing,” he says, and I wonder what other life will be sent away standing. His? I swallow unable to make that decision. He knows it.
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