Azriel Capoue - The secrets of Al

Chapter 17

Stefan occupied the chair across from the bed where the girl he had valiantly rescued lay motionless. Hisfingers intertwined, thumbs gently caressing the scant hairs on his chin. This had been his vigil for dayssince he had rescued her from Egon and his gang. Despite the passage of time, the girl remainedunconscious.Stefan had promptly arranged for her to receive medical attention at the Tavern, which had turned intoan impromptu infirmary.Mrs. Dorothy voiced her concern, suggesting that he should instead send the girl to a designatedinfirmary. They had to summon a doctor from the city to tend to her extensive wounds and stop thebleeding. Stefan had almost lost hope of her survival. Fortunately, the girl's arm had been frozen beforeit was blasted off, significantly slowing the bleeding for a while. Nevertheless, it had still been atraumatic experience for both Stefan and Asta when the bleeding started as they were nearing Tarkwa B.The girl had lost consciousness, and Stefan felt a deep sense of worry and fear for her well-being.For the past two weeks, Stefan had kept his constant vigil, sitting in the chair opposite the girl's bed, hisfingers entwined, only his thumbs free, gently brushing his chin's sparse hairs. He was torn betweenwanting her to wake up so he could glean information from her – who she was, how she had come intopossession of the book the Papacy had sought, and why she was at Peter Capoue's home. He couldn'tdecide if he wanted her to wake up purely for answers or if he genuinely cared about this stranger hehad only recently encountered.Asta's voice interrupted his thoughts, "Do you think she will eventually regain consciousness?" Stefanshifted his gaze from the girl to Asta and offered a nod, coupled with a nonchalant shrug, adding an air ofmystery to his response, which puzzled the young boy.Asta smiled softly and nodded, "It's fortunate that you arrived when you did."Stefan released a weighty sigh, his mind grappling with the precarious situation at hand. While genuineconcern lingered for the girl's recovery, there were also urgent questions demanding answers. Thegravity of their circumstances pressed upon him, prompting a careful consideration of both immediatepriorities and the impending need for clarity."The Secrets of Alchemy. Well, you were able to obtain the book you'd been seeking.""If I'd been a few minutes late, Egon would have had it in hands by now. Ωdegaard would have beendoomed.""Well, Can I take a look at it?"Stefan sighed, looking thoughtful. "No, Asta, I'm afraid you can't see it, and I can't open it either. Itbelongs to the state, and I've heard that once you open it, there's no turning back.""What do you mean, 'there's no turning back'?" Asta sought clarification."Those sent by the Papacy to retrieve this book often end up betraying the state because they can'tresist its discoveries after opening it. I refuse to be part of that pattern," Stefan explained firmly.Asta, trying to inject some humor into the conversation, quipped, "Well, lucky for me, I don't work forthe Papacy, right?"Stefan's response remained resolute. "Still, no."Suddenly, a soft moan escaped from the girl, signaling her gradual return to consciousness. Stefan andAsta sprang into action, their concern evident."She's waking up," Asta exclaimed.Stefan approached the girl. "Are you in pain?" he asked softly.--------------------------------------------------"Azriel... Azriel, open your eyes," a soft voice echoed in my mind, reminiscent of the voice I had when Iwas a child. Gradually, my eyes fluttered open, and I found myself standing in a corridor that felt eerilyfamiliar, as if from a distant memory. Before me loomed a massive wooden door, behind which I couldhear the muffled sounds of a conversation. I turned my head to better eavesdrop, struggling to discernthe words being spoken on the other side.Inwardly, I chided the imposing door, "I expected nothing less from you."With a heavy sigh, I pondered how to listen in on the conversation. It was at this moment that somethingseemingly beyond my control occurred. Without intention or warning, I found my forehead making anoisy contact with the unyielding wooden surface of the door."Wait, what just happened?" Startled, I muttered to myself. I turned to check if someone had pushed myhead against the door, but no one was there. It was clear that no external force had caused this; it felt asthough I had accidentally, yet inexplicably, bumped my head against the door. I had been standing still,contemplating how to eavesdrop, and yet my head had moved as if by its own volition. It was anunsettling and perplexing moment."Azriel...?" a voice called from behind the door, its tone calm and familiar. I could hear him more clearlynow; it sounded like my father. Slowly, I grasped the handle and gently opened the door.My gaze locked onto my father's, and his warm smile beckoned me closer with a subtle wave of hisfingers. Uncle Jab, standing beside father, wore a matching smile, and I reciprocated with a joyful one ofmy own. I quickly made my way over to father, who effortlessly scooped me up under my armpits, liftingme high into the air. A rush of inexplicable happiness surged within me, and I couldn't help but burst intoa fit of giggles and laughter. It was as though he had transported me back to my childhood, a sensation Iembraced wholeheartedly.After a brief moment, father lowered me gently onto the settle. His tone shifted as he noticed somethingpeculiar. "I didn't see you holding that earlier," he remarked.Puzzled, I inquired, "See what...?"He glanced down, and I followed suit. To my surprise, my hand now held a remarkably dirty stuffedrabbit that I had noticed sitting atop a shelf near the couch when father had raised me. What puzzled memore was that I distinctly recalled not taking it.I couldn't fathom how it had ended up in my hand. "How did this filthy toy appear in my hand?" Iwondered.Father, equally bewildered, questioned, "How did you suddenly get that?""I honestly don't know," I admitted. "It just appeared, like magic, perhaps?"Father playfully indulged the idea, teasing, "Magic? Whoa... I didn't know my daughter was a magician.Will you teach me how to do that?"I hesitated momentarily before responding, "Well, I don't think I can. I think that's my special ability. I'mthe only one who can do it. I made it appear unconsciously."Father, in mock sorrow, sniffled, wiped his eyes, and pretended to cry."Huh?" I asked, confused.He continued the charade, imploring, "Teach me your magic, or I'll cry even more," his lower lipquivering as he closed his eyes and tilted his head in a dramatic display of sadness.Relenting with a chuckle, I agreed, "Okay, I'll teach you my magic, but only if you agree to teach me howto become the best alchemist like yourself."Father extended his hand for a playful handshake to seal the deal, and we laughed together.Uncle Jab interjected, "Azriel, could you give your Father and I a few minutes to finish our conversation?""Of course, Uncle Jab," I replied. "I'll be downstairs, giving this magically appearing stuffed rabbit a quickrinse."As I exited the room and gently closed the door behind me, a surreal sensation washed over me. It felt asthough I had just separated from my physical body, an inexplicable disconnection. I watched inamazement as I, or rather my younger self, ran toward the stairs and descended them. It was as if I wasan observer of my own actions.My younger self embarked on a quest to find a barrel of water for rinsing the magically appearing stuffedrabbit. While her determination was commendable, it soon led to a perilous situation. She inadvertentlyfell into the barrel, her head submerged and her legs flailing in the air.In a moment of panic, I attempted to intervene, reaching out to help her, but the situation abruptlyshifted. Instead of aiding her, I rather found myself immersed in the barrel, drowning. No matter howhard I struggled, my efforts were futile. I eventually ceased my fight against it, believing I had succumbedto the water. But paradoxically, I remained conscious, aware of my surroundings, suddenly finding myselfin a dark empty void.In this void of utter darkness and silence, a peculiar voice broke the eerie calm. It was a voice that defiedtraditional notions of gender or humanity, yet I could understand the words it uttered."You should have known he would betray you. Ahh – Peter Capoue. Give him till midnight; if he doesn'tsurrender the book, make him pay; dearly," the voice declared.My thoughts raced, and I pondered the identity of the owner of the voice.Wait... did they mean my father? But, why...?"Understood," another voice, decidedly more masculine, replied."There is someone else here, uninvited." The first voice commanded.I couldn't discern their location or appearances, but their voices resonated clearly. My heart pounded inmy chest as I became convinced that they were discussing me. I had merely found myself in thisenigmatic place, and now I felt like an intruder.Questions swirled in my mind, centered on the unknown location I had stumbled into. Where was I?What had happened to me?As anxiety surged, I realized I had to escape before the two voices found me. The pitch-blacksurroundings offered no hiding places, no refuge. My heart raced harder, and I turned frantically insearch of concealment. Suddenly, a hand gripped my shoulder, and I screamed in terror, reflexivelyjerking forward and falling.My breath came out in wheezing gasps, and my heart threatened to burst. Trembling, I turned to facethe person who had grabbed me, fearing it might be one of the two voices I had overheard, discussingthe fate of my father.The mere sight of the figure sent tremors down my spine, worsening the state of my already frayednerves. As soon as I locked eyes with the shadowy figure, I seemed to forget how to breathe, and myresponse was beyond my control.The figure possessed a dark, indistinct countenance, but what truly unnerved me were the massive,blood-red eyes that glowed with an eerie intensity. Those crimson orbs pierced through the darknessthat enveloped his face and his entire form."Azriel, don't be frightened," the figure spoke softly, yet his voice remained unsettling.I winced; my fear palpable. "Wh-who are—" I began, almost recognizing the voice. "I almost recognizeyour voice... but you sound so different.""Yes," he replied, gradually ceasing the ominous glow in his eyes."I thought you were...," I mouthed. "Your eyes... were –" I sighed. "Where are we?" I added when Irealized who it was."We are in Limbo," he explained. "This is your second visit here. I brought you to help you recover lostmemories. This is a recollection from eight years ago, your first memory after you drowned." He pointedtowards a particular direction.I turned to follow his gaze, spotting a scene with a younger version of myself and himself."Why don't I remember any of this?" I questioned, puzzled by the apparent gap in my memory."Limbo is not a place where your physical body reside, so the experiences are akin to dreams that eludeeasy recall," he clarified. "However, you've just recovered the memory of your drowning accident."My mind whirred with the implications of his words. "But that's not the whole story, is it? I remembermy arm being... destroyed."He nodded. "That's what's happening now, Azriel," he said, beginning to walk." I brought you back hereso you could face your current problem. You'll relive every single thing from the past eight years. It won'tbe like looking at yourself drown. You will remember everything once you wake up, and you'd be themonster I trained you to be."-----------------------------------------------------------As I gradually regained consciousness, I found myself in the midst of a conversation taking place nearby.The voices were somewhat muffled, but I discerned the presence of two individuals discussingsomething. A sharp, persistent pain throbbed in my left arm, and I couldn't help but moan in discomfort.My awakening was still hazy, not quite complete."She's waking up," one of them commented."Yes," the other responded. "Are you in pain?" he asked, his voice soothing.Slowly, I opened my eyes. My bleary vision met the face of someone who loomed over mine. I blinked afew times to clear my vision. His countenance was still too close to mine, and strangely, I didn't mind. Infact, I found myself appreciating the proximity. There was something undeniably captivating about him.He was different from the boys I had encountered before. Well, to be fair he was the second boy I'dencountered since my return from slumber, but... His face was one which would stand out in a crowd,unforgettable. His enigmatic golden-brown eyes contrasted strikingly with his fair complexion, and theyseemed to hold endless depth and expressiveness. I feared I was on the verge of getting lost in thoseeyes, drawn into an uncharted world from which I might never return. Yet, I couldn't look away. His facebore a distant, indefinable look that defied explanation. His smile was genuine, reaching up to his eyesand creating charming creases around them. His brows were thick and black, much like the hair adorninghis head.Our gazes locked, and we held each other's eyes until a sudden jolt of pain shot through my heart like abolt of lightning. I snapped my eyes shut, struggling to contain my scream, which transformed into low,anguished moans. I forced my gaze downward to my left arm, which was swathed in bandages. The partof my shoulder was covered, but the rest of my arm was gone."Are you okay?" the person asked."Asta?" another voice, from someone I had yet to see, called out."Yeah?" the guy above me answered."Give her some space, will you?" the other person requested."Oh, yeah, of course," he replied, stepping back.After a moment, I managed to push myself into a sitting position. By then, I had a clear view of the otherperson in the room. He stood by the foot of the bed, his face etched with concern. His uniform indicatingthat he was a state alchemist, I surmised.Sitting, I took in the modest room. It was quite small, with a single-sized bed, a wooden chair, and a smalltable in front of it. A petite nightstand beside the bed held only a bedside lamp. I noticed the bookresting on the table, the very same book that had led to the murder of my family. Though this man hadsaved me from Egon and his group, I couldn't afford to let my guard down.I let out a sigh and bowed my head for a moment before directing my gaze back to him."You... You saved me. Why?" I inquired, my voice trembling as I attempted to contain the pain whileposing the question. My eyes remained fixed on him.He squinted in response, seemingly taken aback by my question. "Why? Let's see... Because it's myduty... Or perhaps it's my conscience... I couldn't allow a group of thugs to carry out such an act on ayoung girl, or anyone, for that matter. I wish I could have arrived sooner.""I see," I murmured, my gratitude evident in my words. "Thank you...""Don't mention it," he replied, his tone gracious. "I've been wanting to ask you some questions for awhile now. I know you've just woken up, and you're in pain, but please bear with me. I've been waitingfor over two weeks.""Two weeks...? I've been unconscious for that long?" I exclaimed; my surprise evident. A fleeting thoughtpassed through my mind: Why do I keep losing consciousness?"Yes," he confirmed."That explains it," I remarked, "I'm really hungry!"