“Why didn’t you kill me?” The words spilled from my mouth before I could stop them. Well done Morgana, great way to start a conversation.
“I didn’t have a reason to kill you,” Andor replied calmly, walking towards me.
“You’ve killed other innocent people,” I didn’t know it for sure, but from what I had heard about the Valithors I was sure it was true.
Andor shrugged, “I was brought up to believe Dusarlas were demons, sent to take over Valcriea. I did what I thought I had to, to survive."
“What about your mother, didn’t she ever-“
“My father killed her once Thorn and I were born, he told us she was too weak to teach us and would only tell us lies. No one argues with Cerdic,” Andor leant back against the wall.
“But I’m a Hunter, isn’t that enough reason to kill me?”
“I hated Khadi. Not you. I mean, yes, I was going to kill you after I got the information I wanted,” Andor looked down at his hands uncomfortably, not meeting me unwavering gaze.
“Information?”
“I knew you weren’t Khadi, I wanted to know why, so I waited and got the answers.”
“You still didn’t kill me.”
Andor sighed, looking up at me, his expression a mix of regret and annoyance, “Why can’t you just accept I didn’t kill you! If you really want to know, you are the first person I changed my mind about. Once I’m set on killing someone, I never back down, I never change my mind. That is, with everyone except you.”
“So why was I different?”
“Because for the first time, you treated me as if I was a normal person, as if I wasn’t an Valithor,” Andor pushed back from against the wall and walked past me, as if he was done talking. I turned and grabbed his arm making him freeze. His muscles tensed as he glanced back at me.
“I don’t treat people for who their parents are, but who they are,” I whispered, my eyes locked on his. Andor didn’t move, or speak, or do anything but stare back, as if I was crazy.
Finally he spoke up, “Well, I have no chance then.” He tore his gaze from mine and jerked his arm out of my grip. Walking back out into the alleyway I watched him as he disappeared into the darkness, a feeling of loss overwhelming me.
I kicked the wall, muttering to myself about how I sucked at everything, even making a conversation. Sliding down the wall, I sat on the cold ground, pulling my knees up and wrapping my arms around them. I sighed, listening to the howl of the wind and the patter of rain as the weather changed for the worse.
Not bothering to get up, I let the water trickle down my face, the cold tear feeling real, unlike anything else. I remembered other times I had done this, sat in the rain, regretting things. Like the time my grandma had died and how I had screamed at Ward saying it was his fault. The way he recoiled in fear, his grey eyes begging me to stop. I had run out into the rain, wishing for once I could keep my big mouth shut.
Claire had found me there, rocking back and forth, humming to myself. She sat down next to me, let me shout at her, let me blame her. Unlike Ward, she didn’t recoil, she didn’t express any emotions, she just sat and listened. That was something I liked about Claire, when you had something to say and get out, she didn’t interrupt, she just listened. Ward tended to be a bit more head on with things, usually, if someone other than myself had screamed at him he would of told them to get a life. He just acted so differently around Claire and I though, it was if he was scared of something, of us.
He was very secretive about his past as well, which I guessed was something him and Sayer had in common. Every time Claire and I mentioned it, he would run off or randomly wave at someone and start talking. We soon learned to stay out of the past, keep to the present.
I banged my head against the wall, wishing Claire was with me. I needed someone to talk to, someone who understood who I was, not who I should be. Someone who wouldn’t judge me as I poured my heart out, but judge me as I fixed it. Right now, I just wished I had answers. Answers to the Valithors. Answers to Dwynwen and Sayer. Answers how to get back to Earth. How to get home.
“You’re going to get ill sitting there,” Andor appeared, soaking wet, his black hair plastered to his face.
I smiled weakly, “Like I have anywhere else to go.” Andor shrugged, sitting down next to me, not bothered by the rain soaking him. “I thought you left.”
“I did, then I realized you never came out of the alleyway, I thought Thorn had gotten you or something,” he said, wiping water away from his eyes.
“Nope. I met your sister today by the way, very pleasant,” I said sarcastically, looking down at my arm where there was sure to be bruises tomorrow.
“Thorn has problems,” Andor sighed. I looked at him curiously; I thought the Valithor twins were close. Seeing my expression, Andor continued, “Thorn and I never got along. Our father put us in battles against each other; she always won because I could never hurt her. Apparently that’s what makes me weak, I care too much. Father hated me for it, whipped me several times a day trying to get the emotion out of me… he couldn’t. He said I was too kind, too forgiving. He said I had to learn there was no emotion in the world but trust and pain. If I trusted anyone, I would feel pain. I still have the scars, from where he beat me.”
Andor reached down and pulled his top up, revealing red lines across his back etched in over the years of beating. I gasped, staring at them in horror. Andor quickly covered them up with his top again, leaning back against the wall.
“Thorn was always his favourite, despite his efforts to make me stronger than her. He believed it was a man’s place to fight, not a girl’s, but no matter how hard he worked on me, I could never live up to Thorn,” Andor said, his gold eyes staring out into the distance as if he was seeing his past over and over again. After a moment I reached out and touched his hand. He looked over at me in surprise then held my hand tightly.
“Do not judge people by their mistakes, but how they fix them. That’s what Ward always told me,” I told Andor, smiling at the memory. Ward always told me that whenever I was screaming about myself or hating myself.
“It’s not like I’ll ever be able to be anything else but this, a monster,” Andor shut his eyes, craning his head up to let the rain soak his face.
“You are not your father.” At my statement Andor glanced back at me, his eyes cold and threatening. I didn’t recoil though, no matter how intimidating he looked, for I knew he wouldn’t hurt me.
“How do you know that?” He asked.
“You saved my life, something Cerdic would never do,” I smiled weakly and after a moment Andor’s eyes became warm and friendly again and he returned my smile with a dazzling one of his own. I blushed, quickly looking away as he laughed. “You and Khadi are nothing alike.”
“Is that a good thing?” I asked in panic.
Andor reached up and tilted my head up so he could lock eye contact with me, “That, Morgana, is definitely a good thing.” He removed his hand from my cheek and I found myself frozen in place, staring at him. I couldn’t say anything, the words were all jumbled and my mind was clouded with something else. An emotion I couldn’t place.
Andor chuckled, “You’re staring you know.” I frowned at his words before realizing I was in fact staring at him. I quickly looked away to the floor, making him chuckle again.
We sat in silence, not the sort of silence that is uncomfortable because no one knows what to say, but a comfortable silence. I knew Sayer and Dwynwen were probably panicking, thinking Thorn had kidnapped me, but I didn’t care. For once, I was happy where I was. I was happy with Andor beside me. Suddenly an idea came to me.
“Andor…” I started hesitantly. Noticing my tone, Andor turned to me questioningly, nodding for me to continue. “I was wondering, you aren’t by any chance, going to the Rynir Masquerade Ball are you?” I bit my lip, embarrassed I asked.
Andor smirked, “No, actually, I’m not. Thariel’s aren’t allowed to the ball.”
I frowned, “So why are you smirking? And that’s stupid! Everyone else is allowed and-“
“Everyone else doesn’t involve themselves in darkness,” Andor pointed out, his smirk disappearing. I pushed myself to my knees, removing my hand from his. I stared at him, trying to register his emotions. Unfortunately, Andor was skilled in the art of keeping his expression blank.
“You were smirking before,” I argued.
“That’s because you basically just asked me out,” Andor replied stubbornly, the smirk re-appearing. I blushed ruby red, struggling to find what to say to that.
“I-I-I was not!” I stuttered, looking away from him.
Andor laughed, “Of course not. You, like everyone else, are falling for my good looks.” I glanced at him and he winked at me, making me blush harder.
“Stop it!” I said, pushing him in the shoulder. He grabbed my hands, getting to his knees and pinning them behind my back. Not tightly like the men earlier today had, but gently so I could ease them out if I wanted to. I didn’t, locking gazes with him.
“Stop what?” He teased, his face drawing closer to mine.
“Seriously, Andor,” I pouted, “Come on, you must have some fun in your life. Come with me to the dance.”
Andor raised a brow, “Why should I? What’s in it for me?”
I gaped at him, not knowing what to say. What was in it for him? What was even in it for me? “Oh come on! Please, I need someone to go with. I can’t go alone. Dwynwen is going with Cashel, Ariadne with Jayden. Hell, Sayer could probably hook up with any girl he wanted!” I argued, even though I knew the last past wasn’t true. Yes, Sayer could probably hook up with anyone, but Dwynwen. Which really sucked for him.
“We could get caught and what news that would be, a Hunter and Valithor at a dance together. It would get around Valcriea quickly,” Andor said, his expression serious.
“I don’t care,” I said stubbornly, glaring at him, urging him to give in and agree to come. Andor sighed, letting go of my wrists and pushing himself to his feet.
“It’s too dangerous, Morgana,” he offered a hand to help me up but I didn’t take it.
“Dangerous or not, I want to go with you.”
Andor curled his fingers into the palm of his hand, looking at me with a confused expression, “But I’m an Valithor!"
“And I’m a Hunter! Why should it matter what surnames we have? Why should it matter what others think? Andor, please,” I pushed myself to my feet, still having to look up at him since he was a few inches taller.
“What others think is the only thing keeping you alive. Keeping the Hunters on top of Ezalfar. I’m a murderer, Morgana, you don’t want to be seen with me,” Andor said, begging me to understand.
“But I wouldn’t be seen with you! You’d have a mask on. Please, Andor. You said you didn’t want to be your father, so come with me.”
“No, Morgana. If anyone found out they’d-“
“They won’t find out!” I shouted; annoyed by the fact he wouldn’t give in. Andor rolled his eyes, turning away from me and started walking away again, this time, though, I wasn’t going to let him go. Side-stepping in front of him I blocked his path, folding my arms stubbornly.
Andor sighed, “Move, Morgana."
“No, not until you agree to come with me,” I replied.
“I’ll force you aside and-“
“No, Andor, you wouldn’t.”
Andor groaned, bringing a hand up to his soaking wet hair. He brushed the water off his forehead, staring at me in annoyance. “It’s dangerous.” He said in a hushed voice.
“You think I care?” I asked, my voice just as quiet.
“You should.”
“Well, news flash, if I cared I wouldn’t be in an alleyway, on my own, unarmed, talking to a notorious mass murderer.”
Andor chuckled, “I guess you wouldn’t be.”
“So is that a yes?”
Andor clenched his teeth, mulling it over in his head. Finally he sighed, “Yes, I’ll come with you. But no one can know.”
“Yes!” I clapped my hands together in glee. Andor laughed, rolling his eyes again.
“If anyone asks, I’m called Antony,” He said, making to get past me. I blocked him again.
“But that’s so close to your first name!”
“Well, I do like a bit of a risk, you know what I mean,” he asked, flashing me his dazzling smile again.
I blushed, “It’s already a risk, can’t you be called Ben or something?”
“Ben? No! I’d rather be called Antony, and anyway, that’s what’ll make it more fun, the risk.”
“You said you didn’t want to go before.”
“Well, I changed my mind, now can I go? Thorn is probably going to kill me and I’m sure you don’t want me turning up at the dance with a blood streaked face.”
I winced at the thought, shaking my head, “One last thing, how will I find you?”
Andor smirked, “I’ll find you.” He pushed past me, heading towards the alleyway exit.
“But how will you know who I am?” I called after him.
He looked back over his shoulder, “I’ll always know who you are, Morgana. Always. How could I forget the face of the girl I have been trying to kill all my life?” And with that he disappeared into the darkness, leaving me on my own.