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Forgotten Reprise

  Keshiema stood in front of a door with a viper on it. Hiro cleared his throat. "You should not keep Prince Asmoday waiting."

  "I know, I'm just nervous." Steeling her nerves, she knocked on the door.

  Asmoday answered promptly. "Thank you, Hiro, you may report back to Uvall. I will guide her to Eurynome when we are done." Hiro saluted respectfully and left as commanded. "Come in, we will train in my garden."

  When she visited Merihim's chambers she had been too distraught to take notice of anything. Now in her right now, she appreciate the grandeur of a Prince's dwelling. Asmoday's apartment was much larger than her own; about triple the size if she was to guess. This alone showed the difference in their status. Suddenly uncomfortably aware of her own movements, Keshiema became stiff and awkward as she followed Asmoday through his quarters.

  Across the living room, she saw a sliding patio door. The sun had yet to rise, and darkness peered in from the west-facing door. Hitched breath. Narrowing vision. Racing heart. Dizzy from the sudden anxiety attack, Keshiema tripped over her own feet.

  Asmoday turned around, catching her before her head hit a side table. "What the hell happened?" He asked, sensing her sudden increase in heart rate and body temperature. "You were fine a moment ago."

  "I—I'm sorry." She tried to sit up. "I think I'm fine now." She remembered the windows and sliding doors of her childhood home. The constant skin-crawling sensation of being watched by unknown, but definitely unfriendly creatures; the pitch-black forest surrounding the isolated house; no escape once the sun fell behind the mountains. No refuge from the unseen predators' watchful gazes. Her heart rate increased again, and her blood pressure spiked. Staring at the patio door, she scrambled and tried to crawl away, fumbling over herself again.

  "You're not fine!" He picked her up and carried her to the couch, where there was no line of sight to the patio door. "Remain here." Hoping to look out the door for a threat he might have missed, Asmoday turned to walk away.

  She grabbed his arm hastily. "Don't go! Don't leave me!" she cried. "It's out there!" She was no longer in the present, now reliving her days as a helpless human child.

  Her eyes were unfocused, and he was sure that if she had pupils, they would be completely dilated. Her usually pale cheeks were flushed with fever, beads of sweat already forming on her forehead. "I'm not going anywhere." He reassured her. "You're in my home, and nothing can hurt you here."

  "It's watching me..." she mumbled, clutching onto his chest. "watching...me....always watching...from the darkness...watching."

  Looking around, he tried to find something for her to connect to. His eyes fell on the small flame burning in the fireplace. "Look at the fire," he calmly guided her attention. "The brilliant glow. The welcoming warmth." He took a deep breath, speaking slowly to ease her panic. "The comforting aroma. The crackling wood."

  "The fire..." Keshiema's heart rate slowly steadied. "It's warm," she matched his breathing with her own, though hers was still slightly shallow. "bright... warm and... bright."

  "I'm here with you, kid. You're alright." He stroked her hair and whispered to her. "You're ok." He sat there in the stillness, brushing her hair and quietly soothing her for several minutes. When she let go of his shirt, he helped her sit up on her own. Taking a seat next to her, he waited for her to come back to reality.

  Keshiema looked around, slowly regaining herself. "Wh-where?" She shook her head, trying to remember what happened. The gray morning light pooled into the room from the back door, which was just out of view. "I don't..."

  "You were following me to my garden for training and had a panic attack." His voice was warm and comforting.

  "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to waste your time." Her head still felt fuzzy, but she at least understood what was happening.

  "Not at all, I think we will begin with meditating today. When you're ready."

  Something about him reminded Keshiema of her adoptive father, Ethan. He was quiet with a stern air about him. Outwardly, he was stoic and steel-willed, but to his family, he was kind and soft-hearted. He was their support and their foundation and always put them first. Thinking back, she realized he was in his mid-twenties when he passed, around the same age that Asmoday appeared, compared to a human, of course.

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  "Will that work for you?" He asked when he noticed she was spacing out again.

  "Oh, um, yeah, that sounds good." She rubbed her eyes, still trying to clear her cloudy thoughts. "I think I'm good now."

  Snakes slithered across the varying terrains of the garden. Water moccasins swam in the artificial stream and basked on the rocks jutting up from the water. A large red Indian cobra slithered through the small patch of trees near the wetland, unaware of the tree snake resting on the branches a few feet above.

  As Asmoday walked past a basking sidewinder on the edge of the sandy dune, he stopped to greet it. The snake slithered around his ankles a moment before racing off deeper into her own habitat. Stopping in the middle of a large patch of clover, he gestured for Keshiema to stand next to him. "We will work on your form in Taijiquan. The meditative quality of the art will help you be more mindful. Beginning tomorrow, hand-to-hand combat will be our priority. Follow my lead and you will improve quickly. According to Vali, you need it."

  ***

  Asmoday walked Keshiema to the hawthorn tree where Gaap waited for her. "Would you like me to update Gaap about what happened?"

  "No, I'll be fine. Thank you for helping me. I haven't had a panic attack like that in years."

  "Hmm. No need to thank me." He waved off her concern. "Oh, and I heard what happened with Lilith, and I believe an apology to be in order."

  "I would rather she stay away from me," the words came out sharper than she had intended. "I know she's your sister, but I really don't like her."

  "Fair enough." He laughed. "I will inform her to keep away from you."

  Keshiema saluted respectfully and ran to meet Gaap next to the archery target. "Prince Gaap, I'm sorry I'm late."

  "You were with Asmoday, no apologies necessary. Now, let's see your skills. Beelzebub told me you shot 100 arrows last time and only made one bullseye." She nodded to confirm. "Alright, then try again. I want you to take your time with each arrow, though. If I think you aren't focusing, the arrow won't count."

  ***

  With two hours between Gaap's and Eurynome's lessons, Keshiema grabbed a bite from the Great Temple's kitchen and then headed to the library. She instantly noticed the absence of Dásos's aura. She missed him almost as much as she missed Cresil, who had been part of her life for over a decade. More than Sonneillon, whom she had known for over five years. An unfamiliar, lovelorn feeling filled her chest. Even Marthim's betrayal never left her feeling this empty.

  Wandering around the library, looking for something to keep her mind occupied, she found herself in the back corner of the history section. This was where she had first met Dásos. Recalling that she had seen his teeth and asked him if he was a Reaper, and the way he so quickly brushed it off, she wondered, once again, what kind of demon he must be. Retrieving some scratch paper from a nearby filing cabinet, she took a seat at one of the tables.

  "Let's see, what do I know about him... He doesn't lie." she wrote it down, but immediately crossed it out. "Can't lie, but he is deceptive." she thought some more. "Oh, the teeth, can't forget that. Hmm. I guess he isn't very tall either." she considered her own stature and frowned. "I'm half-human though," She reminded herself.

  She thought about the rendezvous he took her on. "He can teleport. Use telepathy. transformation spells." The blood vials came to mind. "Object summoning." Leaning back in her chair, she closed her eyes to think. "Not afraid of the Elders, or at least he's willing to put himself between me and them."

  "I'm forgetting something." she frowned, trying to remember everything about him. Ghostly giggling filled her ears. Keshiema's eyes shot open. Getting up and looking around, she found no one, but kept a hand on one of her swords, just in case. Returning to her table, she saw something peaking out from underneath her notes. Moving the papers, she found a small leatherbound book with a delicately designed oak tree embossed on the cover.

  Carefully opening the old, but well-cared-for book, Keshiema found a familiar-looking script. A wave of nausea and dizziness hit her as she glanced at the foreign calligraphy. Tossing the book back on the table, she waited for her head to stop spinning. "I can't read this..." she said aloud, hoping whoever gifted it to her might still be around. "So if there's something you want me know, you might as well just tell me."

  Keshiema massaged her temples, trying desperately to rid herself of the nausea. The nearby wall clock ticked softly. Students elsewhere in the library turned pages, whispered to each other, or fidgeted with their pens in deep contemplation. Sometimes she hated her sensitive ears.

  The disembodied giggling returned, and this time, when Keshiema opened her eyes, she found a drawing on top of her notes. Her face flushed red, and her palette went pink. It was obviously a quick sketch, but the image was clear: A stylized rendition of Dásos and her during the power transfer. Quickly flipping the pages over, she looked around to see if anyone saw it. Of course, no one else was anywhere near her.

  Once she calmed down, Keshiema understood the message. She contemplated her choices. She could only use the power Dásos gave her once. The book he had already loaned her sat untouched in her room. Her curiosity about the elders was beginning to fade. She knew they all played a part in the Apocalypse, and it seemed to her they really had no choice in the matter - or that they regretted it at the very least.

  The book before her, however, was a complete mystery. The oak tree embossed into its cover instantly reminded her of Dásos. The Celtic knots bordering the edges further solidified this. "Alright," she picked up the book and looked it over again. "I can do this." Setting the book down, she hovered her hand over the open pages. Most magic was less about incantations and more about intent. She was sure all she needed to do was touch the paper, and the spell would activate. But she was afraid.

  "Ikara ah dal emaia." She spoke as she slammed her hand down upon the book. Her eyes flashed a brilliant green, he head was suddenly filled with an onslaught of knowledge...

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