[Where am I?] Zaida thought to herself… The room was silent, almost buzzing with it. She tried to open her eyes – for months now, an unattainable goal, but now it was like curtains rising… and it hurt. The stark white of her surroundings caused her to immediately shut her eyes again, then opening them slowly – bit by bit – until she could adjust. She tried to sit up, and her muscles protested after months of being in a coma, and – with great effort – she was able to manage a propped position on her side until she could push off with her arm to sit upright.
She raised her arms tentatively to examine them – they were pale, she was in her glamoured form. [Shouldn’t there be scars?] A chill went down her spine as she remembered what seemed only moments before – the fight, the wounds she’d sustained, the fire, and the burns she should be carrying. The deafening roar when the flames engulfed her protective shield still screamed in her ears as she recalled it. It was the final option, the only way to effectively kill Erik and the other Shadow Thief apparitions… it had been worth it. She didn’t want to look, but ran her fingers over her waist and the upper portion of her left thigh… the brands were still there, but the skin was smooth – as if it were nothing more than elaborate tattoo.
From behind her, she heard a distinctively male voice, “Ah, my child, you have awakened.” She spun around, her mouth hung open in surprise, “Master Amal?” Her voice was no louder than a whisper and as rough as coarse sandpaper, cracked. Suddenly, a spike of fear stabbed through to the very heart of the young deva, but the aging man before her looked as if he was there in peace. He noted her expression and remarked, “My child, what have you to fear?” “Erik…” her voice was still strained, “What happened with the others.” “Yes,” Master Amal replied, “It’s unfortunate what happened, but you avoided confrontation to the last. You counted their lives far more than their worth…” The look on her face betrayed the fact that she didn’t understand, so he continued, “They took what we stood for and treated like so much garbage. Be certain, child, that I kept watch over you and the others – even in death. I *knew* what became of each and every one of you.”
Zaida tried her voice again, “…but I wanted to leave. No one’s ever done that before.” “Oh,” Master Amal chuckled, “haven’t they?” The thief looked up at her master with another quizzical look on her face. He began to explain by asking, “Do you remember a young thief, many centuries ago – Roux? The young Parisian…” Instantly, the face of Zaida’s first love sprang fresh into her mind… it was a bittersweet image. “I was still a child… I remember that he wanted to leave… and so you took him out one day and killed him,” she recalled. “No, my little assassin,” her elder corrected her, “I did *not* kill him.”
Amal sat next to Zaida on the low-sitting stone slab she woke up on and began his explanation: “My child, Roux wanted to leave because he had found purpose in life. He became enchanted with the local chocolatier’s daughter – Irina. He asked permission of her father to become his apprentice, so he could learn a legitimate trade and be close to the one he loved. When I walked out with him, I took him to the local tavern… he cut his hair and shaved off his facial hair. After seeing him in one way for so long, he would have looked unrecognizable if I hadn’t been there with him to see the transformation for myself. I gave him a little gold to start him out on his new life and wished him all the best. He went on to marry that girl and eventually took over the chocolate shop with her.” Zaida questioned her master, “But, master, you brought back his bloodied shirt?” “At the time, you were too young to discern different smells as you can now… you, nor any of the others, couldn’t discern goat’s blood from the young lad’s. Yes, the shirt was his, but it was a spare shirt that I’d instructed him to bring,” he replied. The young deva gasped as she understood what she had heard. Master Amal added one final bit of information, “If you’ll recall – you used to receive chocolates for your birthday. Who do you think I got them from?” He smiled at the thief.
“But…” she sputtered, “how?!” Amal gave her a mischievous grin, “A little trick that’s been used since the time of the great Pharaohs of Egypt… think around the time of Joseph… it’ll come to you.” [The coat!], she thought as her face showed her grasp of history. “It was the only way I could give Roux a fresh start at a new life,” he explained, “The only way I could be sure that the others who would’ve been angry at Roux for leaving wouldn’t go looking for him. I’ve done that for several more of my children over the years. I regret that I wasn’t able to live long enough to help you with your transition… you were right in that they should have simply let you go. They made their decision… hold no further guilt over this, young one.”
Zaida breathed a sigh of relief and lifted her face – feeling unburdened for the first time in months. She asked, “What do propose I do now, master? I have nothing left of what I originally left for…” Master Amal replied, “Well, I suppose that you could join me and never breathe another breath… or you can spend the time to find your own way again…” “Master Amal, do you realize how long it took me to find my way?” The young deva looked at him, exasperated, “I’m not as young as I once was.” “…or so you think,” the old man replied. “When Erik and the others forfeited their lives, they forfeited the remainder of their years to you… you gained all of their unlived years… so you easily have another 500 years left in you, in addition to whatever you have left. Also, you are stronger now… their energy was absorbed into your body to help heal you, and it inevitably strengthened you, too… It’s up to you to discover what you’ve gained.”
“As always, my dear, you’ve got a choice,” Master Amal concluded, “So, what will it be?”
“I want to live…”
A gold light enveloped her, as it did after her fight with Erik – and as she opened her eyes, she found herself on the floor of the Shadow Enclave in the same state of disrepair that it was in after the final battle. She saw the charred and torn tapestries, the shattered statue of herself, the ruined furniture. She clasped her hands in front of her and began to focus; a ball of light erupted between her palms, forcing them apart as it grew. Suddenly, she extended her arms out to her sides and clapped her hands together, sending the shockwave of energy through the room. The golden light spread to every crevice in the room, repairing furniture, tapestries, and even the statue – all more magnificent than ever. She smiled, pleased with this new ability.
“Ahh…. It’s great to be home!”
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