Chapter 56 – Truth (Samson Conrad POV) Pt. 6
My mom says that we should seize each day, the reason not unknown to me. Silas was here one minute and the next he wasn't. Pushing the baby hairs that were wet from her fever from her face, I look at one more example. Fatima.
Had Walsh never went to find her as Dmitri asked, I would never have met her, cared for her, pulled myself out of the fear that prevented me from experiencing everything.
More or less I had grown content. Not deliriously happy, but accepting of my state because it was safe.
"Has her temperature lowered?" Imogen startles me as I change out the cool rag I had placed on Fatima's forehead. I shake my head unsure what was happening right now.
"How far out is Rafael?" I ask absentmindedly. Did I care when he would be arriving with a book that Nick bought though he couldn't translate it? Not too much.
However, Fatima, she was eager to get her hands on the thing.
I'm not even sure eager was the right word, not unless desperate was mixed in. For some reason, she felt it had answers, which if I'm being honest I could see why she would believe such a thing.
"Just about an hour or two," Imogen says, taking the rag from my hand and disappearing with it, returning minutes later with it once again cool. "I'm sure the stuff we got will cool her down in a little bit," Imogen comforted me.
Tried too at least.
"Plus it's just a fever Samson, it's not like-" I give her a cold hard look, ending her placating words. "I know it's not much but that's how it starts with Fatima. She gets a minor cold and then 'bam!' it's a full-fledged slowly draining flu."
"Look honestly your mom and Uncle Trevor were right, it's just her starting her cycle, and because this is the first one and – and also Faith is part human and Fae but there is something else."
I nod, not in the mood to talk. I understood a fever just meant that Fatima was fighting something inside her, but it really was just the same problem in my eyes. There was the small fear that we'd need to take her to a hospital or possibly a nearby pack or den that could offer her medical care. The trouble with those two options? Well... the first one... she was already rare, I'm not sure one more thing needed to be added to how unique she was. The second problem was closely tied to the first, should she be changing, I'm not sure that a den or pack would simply let her go if they got their hands on her.
"Merry Christmas," Imogen says out of nowhere. I roll my eyes at that last thought. Not out of nowhere. If she was saying it that meant it was December 25th.
"You're like a parent," Imogen comments, and at that I have to laugh. "Shut up!" I chuckle under my breath and when Fatima groans, eyes opening, blinking as she gazes at me. "How do you feel?" all traces of the humor gone, replaced by blazing concern.
"Is Rafael here yet?" my inquiry ignored, sends Imogen into a fit of giggles. "Not – yet – two – two hours," she chokes out between snickers.
Fatima nods, inhaling, breathing out at the same time as her body sag, and looses all tension.
"Do you need anything?" I ask ready to do something.
"No, but I was just thinking... I think Wyatt's family lives in Williamstown or maybe lived there?" she mumbles before pushing herself up to a seated position, legs curled beneath her. Frowning I side glance, Imogen.
Was this fever talking?
"Why do you think that?"
"A few days ago, when we first arrived here," I nod. "Well, I had this dream or memory where Wyatt was telling me about his family – or someone – Sawyer."
"Saw-her," I blurt out knowing exactly when she said this. "Saw-her is Sawyer," Fatima nods.
"So Sawyer is his family here?" Imogen questions. To which she nods. "He said to trust her," Fatima adds.
"That means she's alive then?"
Pursing her lips, face heated from fever, Fatima takes a moment. "I – I'm not sure. I mean I'm not sure of many things to be honest and I'm wondering if maybe researching Williamstown was what actually brought on the memory."
"There is a library named Sawyer... something in Williamstown," Fatima explains when our faces go blank, "What if it is not a memory but something I made up because I saw the name repeatedly while searching?"
"Oh – chicken or egg first conundrum," Imogen comments, nodding. "On the upside, Rafael sent some screen shots of the book-"
"Where are they?" Fatima asked quickly pushing herself up to her feet before swaying and resting back. "He just sent them, I came here to check on Samson creepily watching you sleep," Imogen informs Fatima much to my embarrassment. "I'll get them for you?"
Trying to get one last dig in, over my shoulder I snap back. "She said that she was feeling uneasy after taking that horse-sized pill, I couldn't let her be alone, what if she vomited and choked?"
Imogen lifts a brow, making me rethink my comeback. "She was sleeping, not on conscious."
Begrudgingly I ignore Imogen, feeling and then meeting Fatima's gaze. When she gives me a soft smile, I lean forward, my lips against hers, the all the heat I normally feel settling inside me in every available spot doubles. Humming when her lips part, I pull away, "you're hot," I mumble nearly stupid.
"I feel hot."
"You look hot," I blurt out. "Beautiful I mean."
Before she can come up with a response Imogen returns to the room, saving me from putting my foot in my mouth – not that there would be enough room at this point.
Almost snatching the papers from Imogen, Fatima pushes herself down to the floor, reaching for the pen and sets out decoding. Expecting her to ask for the code sheet she wrote, she doesn't and instead just starts decoding one character at a time.
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I watch her with such intensity, unable to look away as she worked diligently. Each letter she did, I watched as emotions fleetingly crossed her face.
Until somewhere along the third sheet that Imogen brought Fatima just stopped decoding. Assuming that she was feeling drained after thirty minutes of writing I offer to finish it up.
"I'm not tired, I mean I am, but I don't need to write this out, I know this language. To me, it might as well be written in English because I know it."
She's calling it a language now?
"Okay okay! What does it say?" Imogen chirps bouncing in her seat. Her enthusiasm, not something Fatima or I could match in that moment.
Without comment, Fatima begins reading.
"One must know the history so it is not replicated and ending with matching results. This world has had chances but there is only so much one planet can sustain. No matter which world, time is researched. You will find that it's downfall came with greed. Along the way, there have been changes made. Worlds and realms created and built on sacrifice alone."
"My children and I made the greatest sacrifice of all."
"The world – Earth – was created by two brothers the Dark and Light Lords to a race superior to any and all living creatures. Earth was meant to save the gods and their Fae clans from a crumbling cosmos."
One hand on Fatima's I turn to Imogen. "Does any of this sound familiar to you?" I question. Closing her eyes, bottom lip held tightly in between her teeth Imogen shakes her head.
"I mean... Rhys and I..." I'm speaking with Seraphima now. "We did not have all our memories when we found these bodies. We had the knowledge of our love but even that was curbed. It was not as though the minute we found bodies we knew to go searching for Jaxun."
Deep emeralds hold my gaze, "The plan was to find each other because we could never take on Jaxun on our own."
Fatima and I nod together before she starts again.
"The dark Czar killed off the Light Lords."
"My children and I – Mother – knew plans of the Dark Lords creation. We created humans sending the new cosmos into a situation of devastation."
"I – Mother – and my Divine Progeny."
Reading over Fatima's head I frown wondering why she decoded some of the work the way she did.
"A war spanning millions of light years."
"This I know!" Imogen jumps in, slinking down to the opposite of us at the ottoman. "Why did you capitalize the word mother?" Imogen and I ask simultaneously.
"Because that is a name, a title of – of her – the Mother," this time Fatima and Imogen answer relatively the same thing. Nothing to say, Fatima finishes her decoded work, until she was at the last page and she was reading straight from the paper. No need to decode it.
"The Fae a colony of reincarnation-"
"To prevent reincarnation in home Pearl Galaxy I – Mother – and my children formed the Hereafter, as a preemptive strike."
"To stop the blood shed an unbreakable curse placed."
"Those that were dealt Divine punishment and escape back to pearl believed they would be arriving to Earth – a blank slate planet."
"To stop the consumption after our deaths – the children and I – will set off chain reactions – putting in place organisms that left to evolve would become the dominant race."
"It will be billions of light it will be billions of years before a suitable dwelling is accessible."
"It is my hope that descendants will end the built up and continuous hostility."
"It is my son that covets revenge but in order to stay partial remembrance of enlightenment much be eliminated."
Jaw slack, heart racing and thoughts going just as fast I can only stare forward.
"What the hell does all that even mean?" I ask Imogen.
"Jaxun is... Mothers child?" Imogen asks us confused herself, immediately letting us know that as far as this letter or book was concerned she couldn't remember that part of her history prior to leaving or even being in Zedwood.
Closing my eyes years of being taught about how the Earth came about is decimated in the ten minutes that it takes Fatima to read the decoded words. Or maybe letter is the right word?
"How do you not remember a war that lasted," I pause looking at Fatima's translations, "Millions of light years?" I ask while at the same time wondering just how real this letter or whatever was.
"I think that's just it though," Imogen says cryptically. When Fatima deadpans her, she swallows. "Have you ever had a moment where you knew something happened but couldn't remember it? Or couldn't remember a song or the words but in a way you did?" she asks running around with words.
"I'm not explaining it right," Imogen sighs. Resting her head on the ottoman before sitting up straight to face us again. "It's almost like having amnesia..." at that Fatima nods, relaxing against me.
Briefly, I tune Imogen out just to focus on whether Fatima was cooling down body temperature wise. Still toasty warm against me I knew her body temperature hadn't decreased.
"Hearing this," she waves at the papers strewn about, "it makes me wonder if maybe the light years of memories is why we cannot recall everything."
She might as well have been speaking in tongues.
"Our human bodies – brain specifically – what if we didn't have the capacity to retain all memories at once? Do you get what I'm trying to say?" she tests us struggling as well.
How did we know whether or not Nick wasn't just duped into buying some fabricated aged book? Nick was the exact type of person you could pull the wool over his eyes and to stay face he'd gladly continue on lying.
Then again Fatima was actually able to decode it so I was definitely wrong. I had gotten Taylor wrong as well. Not only had she harmed my brother but also according to dad, she had murdered in cold blood Shannon, Javier Senior, Josey and Jess.
Imogen, say nothing else to one another just each lost in our own thoughts, nothing quite making much sense.
Her head rested against my chest, I hear when Fatima's breathing evens out for maybe some time before Luca rushes into the screening room. "Rafael," he starts catching himself and lowering his voice when he eyes a sleeping Fatima. "He's here-"
"Finally!" Fatima croaks not moving her head. Snorting, Imogen rises, "okay let's go meet him up at the gate." She says skipping from the room Luca at her side.
Sighing heavily, when Fatima pulls away, eyes more glazed over than before the smile that blooms on my face seems infectious. Looking the way Imogen and Luca went, I reach back fumbling and digging around in my duffle bag blindly. When the item I'm looking for is right in my grip I pull back, scooting closer to Fatima.
"Merry Christmas," I whisper, placing the four-by-four sparkly gold box with a small bow on top in front of her, nerves ever present. "You bought me something?" She asks, the fever changing her right now. Why else would she ask such a rhetorical question? That just was not who she was.
Still, shyly, I nod.
Nerves explode like a repetition of a single note played softly but increasing – my heartbeat a crescendo. It was the one gift that I had purchased long before we made our escape out of Bend.
Easing the lid off the top I hold my breath hoping she liked the piece. A white gold butterfly with rubies her birthday stone, nestled inside of a chrysalis. "Thank you," she whispers, opening the chrysalis to inspect the over all piece and how it fit.
"The butterfly bends and you can keep it in the Chrysalis or wear it without that," I say still nervous, when Fatima glances at me from the corner of her eye before thanking me with her lips against my own. "I love it," she says pulling away but resting her forehead against mine.
Eyes closed, heartbeat slowing down, "I love you," I whisper.
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