Devil Touch - Chapter Six

"You might want to take a seat. I don't plan to talk my throat raw, so I'll aid you with an illustration." It was more of an order than a suggestion, but Cerys obeyed, eager to hear of Marya's past. "Good. Now close your eyes and listen to every word I say. I'm going to show you this as well..."

It was the middle of a hot summer's day when two twins were born. Identical girls, the eldest plump and healthy, the youngest not expected to see the next day. As a miracle they both survived, although the younger was noticeably weaker. They were named Marya and Phia, Phia being the older sister of Marya. His voice echoed in her mind's eye.

Almost immediately a scene came to Cerys' mind. A mother crying while clutching two small babies close to her breast. Both babies were crying fairly loudly, but the mother would not stop crying, muttering how much she loved them. In the background a man stood, the smallest of smiles spread across his face. Their father, Cerys realized.

"They were a close family. Naturally they didn't always get along, Phia and Marya having their share of fights, but they loved each other all the same. But on their fifth year their mother passed. An epidemic affecting those with Demon Touch was spreading throughout their little village, and she fell victim."

As if no queue, the scene changed from that of happiness to one of sorrow. The sun shone on a grassy hill, colorful flowers grew everywhere, bending gently in the breeze. At the bottom of a hill kneeled three figures, a man and two girls. Their hair had grown now so that it was to their shoulders, a deep brown with silver streaks growing in. The man beside them grew a scraggly beard and had hollow, almost unseeing eyes. He was thinner than he had been in the scene before.

Breaking the concentration, Cerys opened her eyes and spoke aloud.

"I don't need to hear the sob stories. Can't you just tell me what happened next?" She knew it was harsh, but she was never quite good when it came to pain and suffering, for she knew it all too well.

"Fine, but it only gets worse." Sanna responded. "Are you sure you want me to skip ahead?" She hesitated. Just how much worse could this tale possibly get? Finally, she shook her head. She would take it bit by bit.

Again she closed her eyes and waited for Sanna's voice to echo through her skull.

"Days later their father killed himself out of grief. They sat there and watched him do it. He thought they were too young to understand just what was happening. Of course he was wrong. No matter how young a child is they still understand emotion, if not words themselves."

With the next scene things were different. She wasn't outside watching everything take place, instead she was Marya. She knew her thoughts and felt her emotions.

The cold wind ran through her hair, sending chills down her spine as if telling what was to come. She watched her father atop a village shop building, laughing and crying all at the same time. Confusion filled her mind, but fear clutched her stomach. A warm hand squeezed hers and she looked over to see Phia, worry in her eyes.

Screams erupted from the gathered crowd as he jumped. For a couple seconds he almost looked like an angel. Almost. It was when he hit the ground that reality fell upon her.

A canvas of reds, yellows and greens painted itself out on the pavement, clashing so violently that Cerys could only gawk. She felt as something wet hit her brow, warm and sticky. It was red too. Her eyes widened in fear and shock and she practically lost her innards along with her father.

"Stop!" Cerys screamed. Desperately she blinked her eyes, trying to blink away the image burned into her mind, wiping the cold sweat off her forehead. "Why would you show me such a thing? Their father killing himself?! Two little girls watching as it happened?! How?"

"Because you asked me to dear. If you recall, you were the one who wanted to see their past." Sanna replied, his expression matter of fact.

"No. I wanted to 'know' their past. I never said I wanted to 'see' it first hand." He paused, absorbing all she said.

"Beyond the point. Do you want to continue or not?"

She thought. It wasn't what she wanted to end up seeing in her dreams or thinking about whenever she looked at Marya, but she wanted to know. Reluctantly she nodded yet again. "Just promise me that it won't be a first hand experience again."

"I swear. Now shall we continue...?"

Cerys closed her eyes yet again and waited for his voice to sound, soon to be followed by the scenes of Marya's past.

"After their father died there was no family left to care for them. They were on their own, destined to live in the slums and beg for garbage. They barely got past the first year, the second they were near dead when a man wandered upon them. He was in better condition than most that traveled through the slums. Gentleman-like in a manner."

Now a new image formed in Cerys' mind. She was in a dank, smelly alley way, rotting garbage and crumbling buildings surrounded her. The man was a head taller than her, and well built. He could have passed for a homeless if it weren't for his clean shaven face and lack of body odor. The two girls' faces were caked in mud, the luster that should have been in their eyes broken.

"That man was the Captain of the Royal Guard on a mission to capture a would be assassin. When he saw the girls he was reluctant to give up the chase, but something urged him to help them. To nurture them. To teach them. Ironically, six years later, they were the ones to take down the assassin he was chasing when he met them."

The scene shifted, colors blurred with others to create something new altogether. What was once despair turned to something else entirely. She couldn't name it, but it felt almost like excitement. The twins stood back to back, enemies surrounding them on all sides. Their hair was down to their waists now, shining in the moonlight.

The men were but black shadows, almost as if the night itself had come to announce their death. You could barely see the rise and fall of their chests as they inhaled and exhaled, calm as could be.

The men sprang. Cerys watched in awe as Phia gracefully dodged all her attackers only to strike them in the back of the neck with either weapon or hand. Marya did the same, but it just didn't look like an art. It was unruly and wild, and she didn't use a bladed weapon making it harder for her to take out her attackers. When they were finished a pile of bodies lay on the floor, blood on one side and none on the other.

Cerys was about to turn away from the scene when Sanna's voice broke into her mind yet again. "Don't move. Just watch." Obediently she turned back around just in time to see Marya's body crumple to the ground. There were no visible injuries anywhere on her body, but Phia didn't seem to know that.

"Marya! Marya! Are you okay?" She shrieked with all her might, not remembering the fact that she was an assassin on a mission. "Come on, just breath." She urged to a now sputtering, but conscious, Marya. Blood trickled from the corners of her mouth and streamed from her nose while Phia searched frantically for any cuts or bruises. She never found anything.

The image faded and Cerys found herself back in the present, Sanna looking down upon her. A sudden understanding dawned on her face. "You loved her, didn't you?" Cerys whispered.

"She was truly one of a kind." He replied, no emotion detectable in his voice, but his eyes told a different story. They shone bright, but a glaze frosted over them creating a melancholy expression on his face. "She's in a better place now."

"Heaven?"

"No. Heaven's but a dream created to trick people into handing their lives over to the devil herself."

Cerys waited before asking again. "Then where?"