Chapter Seventeen
"I had a dream last night."
Atlan broke his stare at the view from his balcony to look at me, his eyes glinting with fascination. Genuine fascination, like he cared about what went on in my head and while the logical part of me knew that was rooted in the fact that I was useful to him and that was all that mattered between us, something about his interest encouraged me to continue.
Though, I was careful in my recount of the dream. I hadn't mentioned Amenti to Atlan yet, and I didn't trust him enough to do so. For all I knew, he could use her against me, if she was still alive. I also felt a strange possessiveness when it came to Amenti. I wanted to keep her memory to myself.
In the dream, Amenti was seated at a coffee table, her legs folded up underneath of her. She wore a pretty black velvet dress with pink bows and lace on it, her pretty curly black hair held back from her face with a Hello Kitty headband. She was drawing a picture with crayons, humming to herself, looking completely content with her activity. The drawing was of a man and a woman and what I assumed was herself. I guessed the woman was her mother, but I wasn't entirely sure on the man. Surely she wouldn't draw her father after what he'd done to them.
Halfway through her coloring, someone called her name and she'd look up, excited at first, but a heavy sorrow overcame her features, and it hurt to see her so sad. She'd turn back around and look at her drawing, then smile again and go back to humming and drawing. A drawing she appeared to never finish. And shortly after that, I woke up.
"Intriguing," Atlan murmured after my explanation. I shrugged, taking a bite of bread and spreading a marmalade across the top.
"Do you think its a premonition?" I asked, trying to keep the hope out of my voice. The idea that Amenti could be okay went a long way in soothing my nerves. I'd had difficulties concentrating on Atlan's offer, his training, because I was wrapped up wondering what happened to Amenti. If she was alive, and she was doing as well as she appeared in my dream, I wouldn't feel so rotten.
"Maybe so," Atlan mused, then smiled, "We should look into this more. I think it's time you contact the Source. We'll be using the Orb first, so as not to wipe you out. It can be exhausting and frustrating the first time, so don't expect to get it right away." I nodded. I didn't expect it to be easy. Things in life seldom were.
We left our breakfast for Diana to clean up and I followed Atlan down the hallway toward a flight of stairs that wound down into the lower part of the castle. I could smell water as we drew near a door at the end of the stairs. The temperature dropped a bit and I lost the sound of the ocean, much to my chagrin.
Atlan opened a large wooden door and led the way into a large chamber. A large round pool sat in one corner with natural water pouring in through holes in the stone walls, and not far from it, a lounging area of pillows and blankets on a soft cushioned floor. And on the opposite end of the room was a large stand with the Orb sitting on top, held in place by a clawed holding. It glinted in the flickering candlelights that had already been lit before we arrived.
It looked smaller than I remembered, but then, it hadn't been heavy to me. Lea couldn't even pick it up. Only Zetnos, Hannibal, and I had been able to lift it with ease.
"To use the Orb, you have to relax," Atlan explained as we approached the Orb, which seemed to almost breath as if it were a living creature, "You have to find a place of meditation and peace. Allow yourself to be taken in by the Source, allow it to speak to you, so that you may see what the Orb wants you to see. Focus on a simple question once you've reached your trance. Then let the Orb guide you." That sounded easier said than done, but I wasn't going to get anywhere just standing here, judging his shaman talk.
I looked at the Orb, noticed the glint of gold in it and realized my jewelry was reflecting back at me. I hadn't even noticed I'd put it on this morning. I'd done it without thinking. I glanced at Atlan, but he didn't say anything about it, just smiled at me, encouraging me to try connecting to the Source through the Orb.
I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. Atlan's hands took mine, making my eyes snap open to stare at him in alarm for a moment, before I realized he was just putting my hands on the Orb. It was cold under my fingers, and felt strangely fragile. I closed my eyes again and regulated my breathing.
Inhale... exhale...
A strange tingle went up my arms, and it felt almost like the Orb was breathing with me under my fingertips. It was an eerie feeling that made me want to yank my hands away, but I felt immobile. Like I was rooted in place by something heavy wrapping around me, but it wasn't an uncomfortable heavy. More like being enveloped in blankets. I listened to the sound of the water rippling in the pool, the sound of my breath leaving my lungs in a slow, steady exhale. The noises began to blend and merge into one sound, a buzzing static, a white noise, in my ears. The sound that followed when everything was absolutely silent.
For a moment, I didn't think it was working. I almost felt silly standing there with my hands on this weird breathing ball while everything around me was so silent that my ears were ringing. Even so, there was a strange peace settling into me. My body felt loose and relaxed, and the buzzing in my ears suddenly began to sound more... like it was speaking to me. It was a language I'd never heard before, but somehow, I managed to understand it. I understood the soothing hum of its lyrical words, almost like it was singing.
And a fog clouded my head. My initial reaction was to panic, but the voice, the voice that was neither male nor female, loud nor soft, maybe almost mechanical, told me it was alright. My muscles relaxed further and I felt like I was sinking into the soft fluffy fog around me until I found myself standing in a strange clearing in the fog.
Suddenly, Akin appeared out of nowhere and I sucked in a sharp breath, surprised at his presence. He was standing not far from me, appearing occupied with his strange phone device on his wrist. His long white blonde hair was pulled up into a ponytail with fuzzy blue hair tie, matching his white sweater, blue scarf, and jeans. It was pretty sedate for him, considering his obsession with Goth culture.
He looked up and I froze, waiting for him to say something to me, but instead, he said something else.
"Hannibaby, can you grab Menti's shoes from the closet? I forgot to grab them. We're supposed to meet Arikos at the palace in like ten minutes and I'm really freaking out here," Akin called. I blinked, confused, then turned to see the fog clear to reveal the penthouse living room. Hannibal was just about to come down the stairs, wearing a black spandex turtleneck and black jeans, but he turned back around and headed for the bedroom upstairs. I turned back to Akin, who turned to Amenti, who appeared at his side, looking down at the floor sadly.
"Oh, baby," Akin said with a smile, crouching down in front of her, "It's okay. You'll love my daddy's place. It's big and he has lots of games for you to play. I hear my brother, Jaques, is bringing over his kids. He's got a daughter your age. I'm sure you'll have fun." Amenti looked up at him, and the sorrow in her green eyes stung.
"I don't wanna. I wanna play with Menny. I wanna sleep in his room, nowheres else," she said, and gave her best pout that made Akin smile at her. He brushed the curls back from her face, then reached back and pulled his hair out of his ponytail so he could use the hair tie on her hair. He gently pulled her hair back into a cute little ponytail of riotous curls.
"I know, sweetheart, and you will, but we have to be careful. Menny would be really sad if something happened to you. We have to keep you safe."
"Why me? Why is nobody keeping Menny safe? What if the bad people are hurting him?" Big tears pooled in her eyes and slid down her cheeks. Akin's eyes shimmered, but he blinked the tears back quickly and wrapped his arms around her to cradle her close. Squeezing his eyes shut, he pressed his cheek to hers.
"He'll be alright, honey, promise. Menoetius is a big strong warrior," he said, pulling back to offer her a smile. Amenti swallowed, but continued to cry.
"But he also got to fight himself too, so what if he hurts himself?" She asked. Akin frowned, confused.
"What do you mean?" He asked. Amenti shook her head, not saying anything more. Akin studied her for a moment before his eyes widened, realizing what she must mean. He averted his eyes, chewing his bottom lip before he patted Amenti gently on the head.
"I'll be right back," Akin promised, "I have to go see what's taking Hannibal so long. You can go back to coloring before we go." Amenti just nodded and went over to the coffee table, taking a seat and coloring the drawing that I instantly recognized from my dream, my eyes widening in shock.
So it was a premonition. This is a premonition. Or at least, this is happening right now.
Which means Amenti is alive. She's alive and she's okay. She's alive and she misses me. A strange feeling filled me in that moment. I was caught between being surprised, being happy, and being sad. I was elated that someone missed, someone gave a shit about me, elated that Amenti was alive and she was safe with Hannibal and Akin. But my heart broke that she was sad over something like me. She should be happy that she's alive, that she's with good people. She'd grow up with a mostly normal life, because goddamn it, it looked like Akin was already sharing his Hello Kitty obsession with her, but she was alive and safe. She shouldn't have to worry about something like me. She could grow up and become a great strong woman like her mother.
I swallowed hard at the thought, moving over to stand near her, watching her color her drawing. She appeared to stop crying when she was drawing. It was probably her only escape from the pandemonium that was going on around her in the adult world. I didn't want to disturb her, so I followed Akin up the stairs to see what these guys were doing, though, I reminded myself not to stick around if things got... personal.
I stopped in the doorway of the bedroom, mostly out of habit because Hannibal refused to allow me in his bedroom. I watched Hannibal stand at the foot of the bed, looking down at Amenti's little shoes in his hands. Shoes that were smaller than his hands. He seemed confused by them, which in turn confused me.
"Hannibal, are you alright?" Akin asked, coming into the room. Hannibal blinked, then looked up at him, grimaced, then looked back down at the shoes.
"They're tiny," he said. Akin smiled as he approached him, giving him a kiss on the arm before he took the shoes from him.
"They are. Kids have tiny feet," he paused before giving Hannibal a look, "You'd know if you spent more time around them." Hannibal looked disgruntled by the reminder and Akin smiled.
"I'm teasing, sweetie. I know how you feel about kids. But Amenti doesn't act like a child. She's so mature for her age. She knows what's going on," he explained, and his features became sad, making Hannibal grimace, "She knows that Menoetius was taken. She knows that the people who did it are going to hurt him. She knows... Hannibal, she knows Menoetius has been hurting himself." Hannibal blinked, then scowled at Akin.
"What?" He asked. Akin frowned.
"Hannibal, have you ever taken a good look at Menoetius?" He asked. Hannibal averted his eyes and Akin sighed, reaching up to wipe a hand down his face before he took Hannibal's arms. Hannibal eyed him warily as Akin met his eyes.
"The long sleeves, Hannibal. The constant bathroom breaks. The way he scratches at his arms. He's doing the same thing you did after..." His voice trailed and he swallowed hard, blinking back tears. Hannibal gritted his teeth, pulling his arms away from Akin to fold over his chest tightly. Akin's words speared me through the chest. I sucked in a sharp breath as I stared at Hannibal's arms.
It'd be stupid to say I didn't know about Hannibal's issue with self-harm. It didn't surprise me that it was true. Hannibal went through way more shit than I did. He had every right to want to get away from it all. The fact that he couldn't die... I suddenly sympathized with that, except Atlan had given me a way out now. I could do what Hannibal never could. I could die, for both of us.
"I know it hurts to hear, Hannibal," Akin continued softly, taking Hannibal's hands again, "I know you don't want to think about it, but... You and Menoetius are so much alike." I almost laughed at that. Maybe in terms of suicidal dreams, but everything else? Hannibal wasn't pathetic like I was. Hannibal was no longer miserable. Hannibal had people who loved him and cared about him. Hannibal had real love, real affection. Real dreams.
"You both suffered, a lot," Akin explained, making Hannibal grimace as if he were just remembering it, and the same streak of memories stung my conscious too, "You both had to make horrible decisions, decisions a child should never have to make. You were both fighting to survive a horrible situation, a situation that only got worse and worse. You found your way. Now Menoetius needs help finding his way. He's lost and he doesn't know how to ask for help. What he needs is his brother." I stared at Akin, trying to comprehend why he gave a shit about me at all. Why should he?
I treated Hannibal horribly. I treated Akin horribly. Everyone I ran into, I gave a reason to hate me. It was easier to accept hate because I was used to it. My parents hated me, my brothers hated me. An act of kindness was foreign to me. It was always rooted in something else. Arikos was kind to me because he needed me on his side. Atlan was kind to me for the same reason.
Maybe at one time I thought I needed Hannibal, but the time of sitting in my bedroom and crying was over. I couldn't change anything. No one could save me, not even Hannibal.
I was damned.
Abruptly, the vision rippled and pulsed and I hissed in pain as a strange power pierced through the veil and speared me right in the head. I clutched my forehead and staggered back, then gasped when I fell back into a pool of water.
The water closed over my head and I choked, trying to gulp air into my lungs to no avail. I thrashed my arms until I felt someone's arms go around me and hoist me above the water. I clung to their arms, gasping and coughing for air. My vision spun and blurred as I was placed on solid ground, then something soft met my head as I was laid on my side, spitting up mouthfuls of water.
"Menoetius? Are you alright?" Atlan's voice came into focus and I blinked rapidly as my vision focused in on the strange pool room we were in before I had my premonition. I stared at the mosaic tiles on the floor, trying to cope with what I'd seen.
Amenti was alive.
Akin was trying to hold out hope.
I wanted to see the palace, but I had a throbbing headache and my muscles felt weak and rubbery. I finally managed to get a gulp of air as Atlan wiped the wet hair back from my face. I looked around, confused as to how I ended up in the pool. I was too far back to have stumbled back into it. I looked at Atlan, his face concerned as he studied me.
Had Atlan done it?
Why would he do that? Killing me wasn't part of his agenda. And he seemed genuinely concerned for me as he gave me a gentle pat on the back to encourage my regular breathing. I tried to focus more on how the hell I ended up in the water, but it was getting difficult to stay conscious. My vision began to spin slowly and I closed my eyes, grimacing as nausea hit me like a wave.
"It's alright, Menoetius," came Atlan's voice, garbled and distorted, "You did well for your first time. You used a bit too much energy, but that can be fixed. You're very weak right now. I'm going to carry you to my room to rest and prepare you some tea. Is that alright?" I just nodded, and a moment later I felt his arms go beneath me and lift me from the floor effortlessly. I could only hear the water trickling in the pool, the sound of my heart beating violently in my ears, and the soft jingle of the jewelry.
Amenti's alive. That thought grounded me and I managed to smile in relief, resting my head against Atlan's chest, listening to the sound of his heart thud calmly.
And she was with Akin and Hannibal. She was sad now, but eventually she'd forget about me. Eventually she wouldn't need to worry about me anymore. She could go on with her life. She'd be safe and happy. A part of me wanted to believe what I saw with Akin and Hannibal, because I'd spent my entire life vying for Hannibal's affection, but because such a thing was foreign to me, I had no idea how to do it and I fucked it up every time. I wasn't meant for love. Not like Hannibal or Akin. I was meant for destruction, just like the Source deemed.
And I hate it.
"Atlan," I mumbled, hearing the creak of a door, Atlan's footfalls and the sound of the ocean whispering in the distance.
"Yes, Menoetius?" Atlan murmured. A second later, I felt warm blankets and pillows surrounding me. I sighed, taking in the scent of the ocean, hot tea brewing somewhere in the room, and I felt the back of Atlan's knuckles brush my cheek. Or at least, I think I did.
"Please kill me."