[Closed] [Main Chapter] Sins Of The Father

[Raksha]

18th Hamis, 2719
THE HOW | AFTERNOON

It was her rage that he felt first, even being human Alyssa Pierre seemed as though it radiated from her very pores. Jon looked up from his ale, hunched on a wooden barrel in the low lit hollow under Vienda, the makeshift home that he had created as a fugitive and an outlaw. It was nothing much, a small alcove of the abandoned tunnels that only he and Alyssa knew the way to. It sported a table and chair, a couple of barrels of rations and water, and an old mattress thrown on the floor. Candles were placed throughout, giving the man lighting when needed, and more than a couple of old thick blankets were strewn on the bedding. A chest near his bed housed Serro’s belongings, nothing much however. Nothing he couldn’t leave behind at a moments notice. On his desk, he had a notebook and a very old, very poor quality spectograph of what appeared to be a younger version of himself and another man. Used cigarettes sat in a broken mug that was being used as an ashtray, and a bottle of something strong and dark beside that.

Alyssa swept into the room, directly to the man, reaching for the lapels of his worn Anaxi Armed Forces jacket and shoved him back off the barrel against the cold brick wall of the room. His ale splashed against them both, though he didn’t loose his grip on it, and one dark glittering eye met her blazing blue ones.

“Who is she Jon?” She hissed, hands curled in his jacket so tightly the tendons on her hands stood out starkly against the skin, pale pink scars visible on her upper arms where the banderwolf claw marks had been healed. Serro sighed, looking away to bring his ale to his mouth, to which the assassin slapped it away so hard the wooden cup shattered against the opposite wall. Dragging a thin pointed dagger from somewhere hidden, she held the point up against the underside of his throat, teeth grit and tears stinging her eyes.

“Who is she, and why does she look so much like Frances?” The older man looked down his nose at her, hard mouth pulled into a dark frown for a few moments, the silence building between them as her blade brushed the stubble beneath his chin. Finally, he spoke.

“Do you remember when I found you?” He asked quietly, his raspy voice thick with memories of the past, eye searching her face. Alyssa looked him over, resettling her pressure against him, but nodding all the same.

“The Pendulum Club.” She said in a growl, heart racing at things that had been born from so long ago. Serro swallowed, and continued.

“You were so scared then, both you girls were. I couldn’t believe my eyes, couldn’t believe what they were going to do with you both. It turned my stomach. I knew that, no matter what, I had to get you both out of there. You and your sister.” The word struck a chord with the Wisp, her face falling slightly and the knife lowering a little. Frances, her sister. Twins, they had been, though not identical they were clearly sisters.

“We were there for so long, I didn’t think anyone would ever…” Frowning again, she pressed her arm against the man she’d known for so long now, that seemed a stranger all of a sudden.

“You haven’t answered my question Jon. Who is the girl?” Serro lifted his hands slowly, carefully, sensing now that the dangerous flare of her rage was turning. It had shifted now, twinged with sadness and confusion, haunted by memories she had buried so far down they had almost been forgotten.

“Nothing went to plan that night, when we came for you. I was still young, naive, assured I could get you both out under the cloak of darkness. By Vita, you were so different then. Such a scared, frightened thing. You were afraid of us, afraid of them, but you were trying so hard to be brave for Frances. I knew I had to get you out, but, I did something…I did something I have regretted for the whole of my life. Something I kept from you, because I knew it would make you stronger. It would make you better. I did it, for you.” Alyssa felt as though her whole body was trembling, heart pounding in her ears, teeth aching they were clenched so tightly. She blinked, and a tear fell onto her cheek, rolling down and falling on the hard packed earth.

“What did you do?” She whispered, letting Serro lower her knife further, his fingers wrapped gently around her wrist.

“I told you Frances died, in the rescue. But…but truthfully…she stayed behind.” He moved then, using the moment to spin her around, wrapping his arms tightly around the woman and turning his head away so she couldn’t headbutt him. Alyssa let a ragged sound escape her, struggling against the man she’d practically grown up with. The man she’d come to know as a father. Hot tears rolled from her eyes, and she strained against him.

“No! No, you said she died! You said she was dead! You left her there, you left her with them!” She cried, tugging with her shoulders, struggling against the man. Her breathing was ragged, thick with emotions that she’d hidden so far away, locked where they couldn’t impact her training and her concentration. Gasping a sob, she shook her head.

“Why Jon?! Why??” Serro swallowed the thick lump that formed in his throat, avoiding her head as she threw it back, holding her tighter.

“Because we needed her to stay there Alyssa. We needed someone who was on the inside, who could work from within. We had a contact who would keep her safe, someone to ensure she was protected. It was Ford’s idea, he said it would make more sense.” The Wisp sobbed now, her struggling ceased as she sunk down in his arms.

“You left her there you ersehole.” The brunette gasped, her knife clattering to the floor. Jon sunk with her, holding the deadly woman as they sat down together. After a while, her sobbing eased, and she stared at the space before her.

“Is she still there? Is she still—” The older man shook his head, though she couldn’t see it the woman could feel the movement.

“She died, shortly before the Rookwen Massacre.” Alyssa sobbed quietly now, her heart aching for the sister she’d already grieved for, the sister’s memory she’d held like a fierce flame to push her training and her suppression of her emotions. To build the mask she wore so perfectly that she’d almost forgotten it was a mask at all. Serro held her, unspeaking, as they sat on the dirt floor together. Finally she spoke again.

“Who is Emelia?” She whispered, knowing in her heart the answer before he spoke it.

“She’s your niece Alyssa. She’s Frances daughter. But,” He paused for a moment, carefully selecting his next words.

“She doesn’t know anything, and I need you to keep it quiet for now. Emelia is important, more important than you can know right now, and its crucial no one knows who she is, or where she is yet. I promise, I will tell you everything soon enough, but for now…I need you to trust me. For now, I need you by my side.” Alyssa stared into the space before them, shaking her head slowly.

“Let me go.” She said coldly, her voice dangerously quiet, and without hesitation he dropped his arms. Gracefully, the woman stood, collecting her knife and storing it away. Hard eyes turned to look at him, the man she thought was her savior. The man who had lied to her.

“I trusted you, for more than fifteen years of my life Jon, and I shouldn’t have. I don’t trust you, not now, not anymore.” Wiping her cheeks, the Wisp nodded to herself.

“But I trust in what I do here, what the people who follow us are doing here. For them, I will wait. And for them, I won’t tell a soul what I know. For the Resistance.” Moving to the doorway, she paused, looking down at the ground before her.

“Jon,” He glanced up, looking at her back, brow drawn in an expression of sorrow. She was the only daughter he’d known, and he’d hurt her more than words could say. And he would continue to hurt her, but it was a sacrifice he had to make. For them all.

“I will never forgive you for this.”