Relias: Uprising (33 page)

 That’s when Sable’s thought seemed to stop almost entirely.
A memory
.
From when she was little
. Her breath became short. Immediately she made vain attempts at prodding at the memory, toying with it, trying to get more out of it in much the same way as a person tries remembering a dream. But it was useless, and that fact came as a disappointment to Sable. Simultaneously though, she became instantly encouraged; her past was somewhere in there. She just had to find it.

 “Alright then.” Exclaimed Pitt who sat cross legged across the fire from Sable. “Time for Get-to-Know-You time. We’ll go around the circle and everybody tells something about themselves like where they’re from, what they like, favorite foods, you know, stuff like that.”

 Nobody said anything, and gauging from their responses nobody heard or cared to listen. Pitt was oblivious and nodded.

 “I’ll go first.” He said, straightening himself up where he sat and looking around at the group. “My name it Warren Pitt, I have several girlfriends and I’m extremely proud of it. I’m from Valhalla where I would go to the beach every day and go partying with friends at night. I was able to skip finishing school and go straight onto my collegiate learning because I’m just that smart. My uncle is Count Langlen and he has absolutely
no
idea that I’m fighting with the Darks. He just thinks that I’m doing some sort of foreign exchange program.”

 Everybody watched the fire and didn’t hear a single word he said.

 “I love a good steak, I like movies, girls, cars, just basically all the crap that I’m supposed to at this age and I think that I should make the most of it all before I get too old and don’t fully appreciate the things that really matter in life. Pontious, go!”

 Pontious didn’t react. With a smoking stick in one hand he prodded the fire and stirred the coals, sending orange glowing ash into the air with every fiery piece he turned. Pitt kept his attention on Pontious, anticipating his reply.

 “…Pontious, your turn.”

 Pontious shook his head. “I’m good there.” He said shortly.

 “Alright then.” Pitt said. “Sable?”

 Sable shook her head. She was too comfortable keeping to herself.

 With a discouraged look on his face, Pitt turned to Morlo. “You?”

 Morlo raised a stopping hand. “Nah, man.”

 Pitt sighed and gave a disappointed groan. “Alright, fine, Vyvyr you can go next.”

 Vyvyr gave no reply. Sitting next to Pontious he had his legs stretched out, his arms crossed across his chest and his head bowed. It was about that time that Pitt picked up the hint that nobody wanted to talk. So, with his attempts at friendship dashed across the cavern floor, Pitt followed the example of the rest of the group and went completely quiet.

 They were tired. That much was obvious. But as Sable sat there she wondered if it was more than that. It most definitely wasn’t the first time that she had hoped that instead of hyper-healing she could use telepathy. Every once in a while a moment would come along that made her wish that she could read a person’s mind; this was one of those moments.

 With Rush she knew what their feelings were without having to read their minds; they had the hopes and the very survival of the Darks resting on their shoulders. In fact, taking it a step further one could say that the hope for any future worth having lived and died with the success of this mission. The Darks were the last real rebellion against the Commune and when the Darks died, freedom died; under the weight of the Commune, society would continue to self-destruct until either the social unit disbanded or the Commune did away with the charade, the propaganda, and instituted the communistic, totalitarian law that was its ultimate goal. Rush knew this and Sable could see it. She could see it in the way they talked, in the way they sat, even in the way they breathed. It almost looked like their shoulders were sagging beneath that massive weight. But Seraphine in particular seemed most affected by it.

 She was only fifteen. She was a pretty girl too, with long blonde hair that grew down to her shoulders and judging by her body she had matured quite early. But she was still a girl and she was being put under pressure that would break most grown men. And as much as Sable despised pity, she found herself doing exactly that to this young girl.

 Seraphine’s eyes were gorgeous, vivid green and deep and reflected the flickering flames, yet there was a sadness, a kind of hopelessness that Sable had no trouble seeing. Seraphine was at the age when she should be finishing up with middle school, learning to drive, flirting with boys, and here she was at the heart of one of the greatest conflicts in recorded history being used as an unprecedented tool of destruction. Her eyes were a crude mixture of sadness, hopelessness, fatigue, and a myriad of other emotions that Sable would have trouble separating from one another.

 Seraphine hugged her knees tightly to her chest and trembled. It couldn’t be from the cold, though; the fire was hot and she already had several blankets draped over her which had been donated to her from several members of the group. No, it wasn’t cold. Sable knew, when seeing Seraphine sitting there alone shivering in the darkness, that she was the last person who should be in that conflict.

 Seeing Seraphine huddled almost by herself Sable saw why Alighieri put the Darks’ best warriors into one fortified group: Seraphine wouldn’t survive without it.

 Sable caught herself staring and returned her eyes to the fire. Out of the corners of her eyes she looked Seraphine over.

 Seraphine looked so pure, so innocent, yet here she was cursed with one of the most destructive gifts the world had ever known. She was walking proof that the world was not a fair place and even the most decent and moral of individuals could be weighted with such an abomination. But as Sable thought about it she came to realize that, had this power been given to anybody else, would it have been more dangerous? Maybe what appeared to be a curse was a gift after all, a great and terrible gift that
had
to be given, and in order for its holocaustic and terrible power to be balanced out it had to be bestowed upon somebody who was innocent and unwaveringly righteous. But even with that in mind Sable believed that the world was still pathetically unfair. The success of Lynch, Frenz, and the entire Commune was tangible proof of that concept.

 But Seraphine sat alone, solitary, and Sable couldn’t imagine how she felt. She tried, substituting her most painful memories and experiences to try and match the feelings that Seraphine might be feeling, but she couldn’t do it. She had an entire mental warehouse full of painful and tragic memories, yet nothing she had was quite the same as having the fate of the world resting squarely on your back. Seraphine was their savior. She couldn’t feel alone.

 “I’ve been with the Ditrinity for little over nineteen years.” Sable began. Everybody looked at her; she was the last person they expected to speak. “Came into it when you were first born, Tess. I wish I could tell you what happened before I came into the Ditrinity but I suffered massive exposure to raw Furo which wiped my memory blank, killed my hair pigment and gave me these.”

 Sable pointed to her glowing eyes. As she spoke she looked into the fire; she was uncomfortable enough telling this much stuff about her as it was. She passed a quick glance to Seraphine and continued.

 “When the Furo wiped my memory I still could do the things I had learned how to do like talk, walk, fight… and it’s not amnesia. Amnesia is just something that happens without warning. Exposing yourself to that much raw Furo will ruin your memory every time.”

 “So the first time I woke up without my memory everything was cold and blue and I was tumbling across the bottom of a river. I panicked and swam to the surface. I grabbed onto the side of the river and was in the middle of a city.”

 “Elysium?” Serenity asked, coming out of silence. She got wistful and smiled. “Sitting at the base of a lake and the basin is like it’s formed out of one solid waterfall…”

 “Yeah.” Sable replied, Serenity’s reminiscence making her depressingly nostalgic. “…I climbed out and a bunch of people began to crowd around. At the time I had no idea that my eyes were like they were and wasn’t sure what they were all looking at.”

 Sable paused, smiling at the memory and looking into the fire. “Then a man came through the crowd, knelt down beside me and made sure I was all right.”

 There was a small smile that emerged on Tess’s face. “My Dad?”

 “Mmhmm.” Sable said. “So he took me back to Miles’s place in one of his spare rooms and let me rest up. That’s where I first met you.” She said, pointing to Serenity. “You were only one but you already knew how to walk. I fell asleep, woke up and Luke had come back. He introduced himself, I got up, and we went out and that’s where I first met the Ditrinity. Back then there were only five members, Vyvyr, Pontious, Miles, Morlo, and Ayla.”

 “Hendrick isn’t in the Ditrinity?” Pitt asked.

 “Not then.” Sable said. “Back then Nate didn’t want to be a part of the Ditrinity. He fought with Luke during the wars that formed the Union but he wanted to keep it at that. After the First Legionnaire had been established he wanted to spend the rest of his life in Brún smoking and gambling with the loads of money the government gave him for his work with the Legionnaire. But then once Senators started getting knocked off Luke was finally able to convince him to join up with us until the assassins were taken out.”

 “But I couldn’t remember anything. Nothing.” Sable nodded towards the rest of the Ditrinity. “They kept asking me and asking me about what had happened because when they found me I was dressed up in full battle gear and pretty bloodied. I had no idea what had happened and I would have had to wash pretty far and go over quite a few waterfalls. Especially in Elysium. I was just lucky I didn’t go any big falls or get smashed across any rocks. I told them that I got those gashes from hitting rocks and stuff in the river but they kept telling me that my cuts didn’t come from rocks. And this armor,” Sable looked herself over and shrugged. “I was told it’s extremely advanced. At least, more than the technology they had at the time. So once the Ditrinity was convinced that I couldn’t or wouldn’t remember anything they had Peter Scarsborough… That’s Trey’s granddad, read my past. That was his unique ability. Reading timelines. Luke took me to Peter and had him do just that.”

 Sable shook her head. Feelings of frustration and regret swept over her as she spoke. “He only had to look for a few seconds before he decided he didn’t have to look any more. I begged him and begged him but he wouldn’t tell me or anybody what he had seen.” Sable stopped. It was difficult to contain herself. It wasn’t sadness that struck her; it’s just that when half of your life is a blank you start wishing that you had a past to remember. “I was so angry with Peter. But he was good about the whole thing cause he understood my feelings. That made things better, I guess. But he pulled Luke aside and told him that I had to be in the Ditrinity. I had only known Luke and the Ditrinity a few hours and Peter was already asking Luke to fill the vacancy in the Ditrinity that Alighieri had left when he became Senator. Luke kept denying it saying that there was no chance that he would take a complete stranger and put them in the Ditrinity. But… but then Peter whispered something to Luke –Luke’ll never tell me what Peter told him no matter how hard I try- and Luke pulled a complete one-eighty and put me in.”

 Sable sighed and clasped her hands in front of her. “Everything after that is history.”

 The group was engaged, a feat which Sable thought to be extremely encouraging. When she was trying to make more friends Ayla had told her that she had to confide in people and show them that you are a trusting person. Sable never really understood that until that moment. But the most gratifying part of the whole situation was seeing Seraphine’s face regain color as she scooted closer to the fire and made herself a part of the group.

 “Pontious?” Sable asked in an effort to get everybody to say something. She hoped that eventually Seraphine would get comfortable enough to talk to them if they first shared something about themselves.

 “Hold on for… just hold on.” Pitt said, readjusting his sitting position and looking at Sable with a confused and contorted expression. “So let me get this straight. How old were you when they found you in Elysium?”

 “Nineteen.”

 Pitt’s confusion mixed with surprise as he looked Sable from head to toe as she laid on her side.

 “So… I can’t belie… You’re thirty-eight!”

 Sable nodded casually. “Thirty-nine next month.” 

 “So you’re a Durant then?” Serenity asked.

 “Yes…” Sable started before switching her gaze before correcting herself. “Well I’m half Durant. One of my parents was a Durant so I inherited the genes that prolong life while I actually got a unique power of my own.”

 “Hyper healing.” Pitt quickly added on. “I’ve heard about that. But I had no idea you were thirty nine. I just automatically assumed that you were twenty or twenty one.”

 “That’s when my body looked and felt its best.” Sable said with a shrug. “Twenty one. My body just stayed that way and I’ve looked like that ever since. But Nate…” She paused, realizing not everybody was on a first name basis. “Hendrick... is around fifty five years. He comes from a unique line of humans with a life span similar to Durants. It’s different than somebody like me though. With Durant blood comes a different physical makeup. Any person with Durant blood has at least partial Furo sensitivity. I’ve also been told that our learning slows down and is proportional to human learning or something like that so that I might be older but I learn my lessons from life experiences as though I were going through them at the pace of a normal human.” Sable stopped, smirked to herself and chuckled. “Confusing, I know.”

 “And I also heard that you were anatomically perfect.” Pitt said with amusing enthusiasm.

 Sable nodded hesitantly. She hated when people brought that up: truly despised it.

 “So that’s me.” She said quietly. “Pontious, what about-“