Empire Of Souls 143 Matters Of The Past 3

A young man stood pensively looking out of a large window. He was handsome, but he never cared to consider his looks or to bother with making himself presentable. He wore the same white lab coat for days without changing or cleaning it. There were stains of coffee and of other things on it, but he didn't care. His hair was in disarray and there were black bags under his eyes, a sign of a lack of sleep. 

The window he looked out of was twice his size, and as wide as the width of ten people standing side by side. He stared out, looking beyond to what lay below and occasionally there would be others who would walk by him and look at him strangely. He didn't notice them, as his thoughts were elsewhere. The window he looked out of was from a floor hundreds of feet up and below one could see large buildings, and vehicles moving rapidly like insects buzzing about. He was too high up to see any people below, only the blurry movement of life.

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"Here you are An-Namrud. I've been looking for you. Why are you staring out of this window all alone?"

Another man who could be said to be almost the opposite of him approached. They were both handsome, but each distinct in their appearance. Whereas one gave off the impression of slothfulness, the other was meticulously groomed and dressed. There was always a bright smile on his face, but An-Namrud could only see eyes tinged with worry and perhaps some regret. 

"Ishmael… I was just thinking."

An-Namrud stepped closer to the window and placed his right hand on it. He didn't turn to look at Ishmael.

Ishmael didn't mind and simply asked, "Oh, what is it that you are thinking about?"

He didn't answer right away, but after a moment of silence An-Namrud finally said, "I was thinking of my parents. I never told you, did I? My parents were a very religious couple and even after the ban on organized religion came into effect, they never stopped in their beliefs and religious practices."

This was the first time that An-Namrud had mentioned this to Ishmael and this surprised him a bit. It wasn't often that his brother and friend spoke of his parents. He wasn't surprised by the content, just the fact that he had been willing to share such a deep and traumatic memory with him. Ishmael already knew some things, but they were things he was not allowed to discuss in the open.

"No, you never told me. Is that how you became a ward of the state?"

"Yes. My parents were good people. They were selfless and kind, at least as much as I can remember. So kind that they never fought with anyone, not even each other. They never argued and even if there were disagreements, they were always willing to compromise with each other and with me. One day, someone came banging on our door begging for help. This was when the worst of the turmoil was taking place. There were riots everywhere and open rebellion in the streets. My parents still helped that person, fed him, clothed him and allowed him to rest in our home. That very night was the same day my parents died. I was taken in by the authorities and eventually became a ward of the state."

Ishmael winced at his words. He didn't know how to respond at first. In truth, he already knew a bit about this as it was related to his position. He knew that the government had already had their eyes on this young genius and the circ.u.mstances that took place were just a justification to abduct a child.

"I...I'm sorry."

An-Namrud moved his hand down the gla.s.s making a squeaking sound until he finally stepped away from the gla.s.s. Ishmael shook his head, there were words he wished he could say. Unfortunately, if he did, he wouldn't last the night.

"I know I am being used. This tower.. It is meant to control the world. I don't care about any of that. I only want to know.. What is out there? My parents spent their whole lives living a dream, but they believed in something. They died for that very same thing. Was it all for nothing? I couldn't bring myself to forgive them, but at the same time I hoped to vindicate their lives. What is out there? Is there truly nothing? Then wouldn't their lives have been in vain? And what of my own suffering? I just want an answer."

His words were filled with gloom as he turned to look at his brother. There was a lost look in his eyes.

Ishmael grew concerned, "What if you don't find what you seek An-Namrud?" 

"Then there would really be no point in living any longer."

______________

"Aleks? Aleks? ALEKS!?" Lenia was calling out to Aleks frantically.

Aleks was sitting on his throne within a darkened tent and staring at the golden mask in his hands. There was no one else present, not even the servants who normally saw to his needs. He seemed to be paralyzed and was completely unresponsive no matter how she called out to him. She began to grow worried the more he remained silent until she had finally grabbed him and shook him. This was something she would never have done under any other circ.u.mstances.

Aleks finally seemed to regain life and looked at Lenia with hollow eyes, "Lenia."

"Aleks, I was afraid something happened to you! Why are you sitting here staring at that mask? Did something happen?" 

There was only the utmost concern in her voice which grew more gentle as she spoke.

"I'm fine." 

Lenia had noticed that lately her master had been acting very strange. Well, her master had always been strange, but this was even more than usual.

"How is Lariel?" Lenia asked with concern.

She hadn't had the time to see her and was wondering if her master's actions had something to do with Lariel.

"Her soul is depleting slowly. I have done what I could to slow down the curse from eating at her soul and must constantly expend the 'Soul Potential' I acquire from the faith of my wors.h.i.+pers. It is a temporary solution, but it can't stop the weakening of her soul entirely. It was all I could come up with for now."

Aleks leaned back on his throne and placed the mask down. He no longer looked at it and seemed to even be avoiding it.

Lenia seemed hesitant as if she wanted to say something, but couldn't bring herself to say it. This did not escape Aleks's eye.

"There is no need to hold back, just say what you wish to say."

Lenia nodded and gathered her courage, "Master… Aleks, do you love her?"

It seemed that this was one of the most difficult things Lenia had ever asked and she couldn't even bring herself to look at her master.

"Love. What an interesting concept. Our lives are inexplicably tied together. In the past, she delved deep into my mind and we shared a lifetime together in a single moment. I do not wish to see her harmed and I do not wish for her to die. But, I also can not forgive her for what she has done. Is it love, or is it hate? I do not know."

Lenia wasn't sure how to feel about his answer. Should she still hope?

'At least master didn't say yes. Maybe I still have a chance?' she thought with some relief.

She was too embarra.s.sed to look at him.

"Why have you come?"

Lenia was reminded of why she came by his words and composed herself before speaking seriously, "We are only a half a day's march from the army of the Dragon King. We will overtake them tomorrow."

"Good, then prepare for battle."

She lingered and didn't immediately leave to carry out his orders.

"Is there more?" Aleks asked.

"It is Brock. He has been asking to see you for some time now and has been insistent."

Aleks waved her away, "Go, I don't want to see him yet. I know what he wishes to ask, but I am not ready to discuss it with him."

Lenia didn't say anymore. She saluted and then left Aleks alone on the throne. He was rubbing the gold mask without realizing it as he appeared thoughtful, and his eyes had a distant look. The mask glowed dimly as it released a hint of warmth.