~ No one is you and that is your power. ~

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Important note: The chapter which was previously marked as Chapter 9 is a part of CHAPTER 5 now. The CURRENT CHAPTER 9 was previously marked as Chapter 16. I apologise for the inconvenience.

                           ***

I trudge down the stairs as I stifle another yawn for the nth time in the past hour. I was drained beyond all. I carried my sword back with me when I visited father but in a panic, I totally forgot about the whip. I don't understand how it slipped my mind. It is easier to train when I have both my sword and whip beside me. I haven't used my abilities for a long time so first I have to work with my greatest weapons before I start to develop again and use the abilities that the gods have provided me. I am no God now in case you are wondering.

And yes talking about feeling tired, the reason I've been feeling drained is that training is hard and I feel like my limbs are going to fall off anytime soon. My entire body is in agony and I would never have stopped using my abilities if I had known I would have suffered like this. I'd never stopped being me.

All of the sleep vanishes into thin air when I hear someone walking downstairs in the kitchen. Despite my heightened senses, I could quickly guess who'd been down there. The smell was revolting and that could mean just one thing.

The dog is here at my house.

Incapable of containing the rage that was running through my veins, I quickly entered the kitchen and pushed him against the refrigerator holding his neck up. My hold on his neck tightens more as he tries his hardest to free himself from me but fails miserably.

"You can't run away from me. I've told you I'd catch you sooner or later." I breathe those words while holding his face close to mine.

Looking into his eyes, I noted how the bubbles of confusion lingered behind those cold green eyes and the sweet scent of apprehension that radiated from his filthy body was highly intoxicating.

His face turns redder as I raise the pressure on his neck to the point that I know a few more seconds, and I can wipe his sorry existence away.

"That's enough." Another voice booms out of the living room and walks to us both. Mr Ostemis. Why is this bastard turning up when I want him the least? I totally ignore him and keep gripping the other man's neck.

"I said that's enough, Alexander!" he repeats again but louder.

"Why should I? Want to trade places with him?" I ask him maliciously. I finally release my hold on the other man's neck and he falls shaking and coughing to the ground. Then I continue to punch him on the face until I see his nose broken, his lips split, few missing teeth and blood smeared on every inch of his miserable face.

Finally, I turn my attention to Mr Ostemis standing there stiff like a fuming statue. "Last time I checked, I wasn't taking orders from you," I stated calmly while washing the dried blood from my hands and drying it with a towel.

"Don't forget your place, Mr Ostemis, because one day, when I'm in a terrible mood, your attitude can cost you your life. I'm nothing like father, but you already know that."

I pour myself a drink and lean against the kitchen counter taking a sip from the glass. "What exactly are you here for this time?"

He glares at me, then gazes at the unconscious man lying on the ground. "It would be very disappointing for the King if someone were to inform him what you just did a while back," he says. I snort at his pitiful attempt to intimidate me with his lame threat.

"Are you trying to threaten your next King, Mr Ostemis?" I tsk at him and laugh out aloud. "That someone is you and I think you've been talking about the Queen, not the king. My dear stepmother has wrapped you around her little finger." I say unbelievingly. "How far are you ready to go in for her?"

Instead, he did not respond but walked up to the cabinets taking a glass out and pouring a drink for himself. At once he chugged the whole drink and went about to pour another drink, and then another. This went on for about ten minutes. I grabbed the bottle away from him as he retrieved another bottle of scotch from the mini-bar and returned to the kitchen.

"Sit the fuck down already!" I say. "Both you and I  know that you cannot get drunk. Alcohol doesn't affect us the same way as humans."

Mr Ostemis slumped onto the chair and leaned back slowly under his fatigue. He massages his temples and shuts his eyes,  then clears his throat after he seems to be satisfied. "I'm not a lap dog to your stepmother. My loyalty is to the King."

"Then why did you bring him?" I pointed to the battered mess lying on the floor.

"I did not have a choice," he groans. "The king asked him to accompany me on this visit, don't ask why."

"Fine. You take this piece of shit back with you and make sure everyone is informed that this jerk never appears anywhere near me again. Next time I'm not going to be so lenient with him and even the greatest magic in the world wouldn't be able to cure him."

"You're going to say it yourself to Catherina. He's her best friend. I'm not sure how she's going to respond to your actions," he says in a serious tone.

"Look, Alexander, I've been with your father for years. I was with him when he met your mother. I was there when you were born. I was there when the Queen sent her away."

I know it's the facts. I've always tried to ignore the injustice my mother had to go through but I've never taken it out on Cathy personally. Since the first time I had laid my eyes on her, I loved her like my own sister.

"I will handle her, you do not need to fret about that."

In return, he nods. "Your highness it is a wise choice," he agrees. "I don't really want to face the wrath of Lady Catherina anyway."

"Cathy and angry?" I chuckle at him. "She has got the heart of an angel. She could not even hurt a fly if she wanted to. She is too kind for her own good."

Mr Ostemis stares back at me like I have grown three heads. "You are comparing Catherina to an angel?" He scoffs at me.

"Your highness, then you've got a lot to see. Stop clouding your view with fake affection. You don't know how she really is like," he advises.

I do not pay any heed to his warning. I am sure he is just imagining things. Instead, I ask him again the reason behind his visit this time.

"The King wants you to return to the palace early. He explicitly told me to let you know that you are going to bring Lady Autumn back with you. If you fail, he will personally send guards to take her away," he concludes.

Well, that indeed sounds like a father. I have not made any progress so far with June, and the few times I have tried to interact with her over the past few weeks, she ignored my presence like the plague, or just walked away after giving me a one-word answer. I don't understand what's wrong with her. Now she seems much closer to her friend, Ricky.

Mr Ostemis gets up from the chair and heads for the body. "This time, Alexander, the King is really serious. Be careful, and bring her back to the palace." Then he disappears into thin air taking the body with him.

I figured I had to take some swift action. I took my phone out of my shorts pocket and dialled Scott's number. At last, he answers on the fourth ring. "Hi, Alex."

"I need you to do this work for me first thing in the morning tomorrow," I tell him.

"Okay but what is it?" he asks from the other end of the line.

"Bring in Mr and Mrs Morisson here to my place. I think it's time I finally have a talk with them."

     
                            ***

I look at the two figures sitting in front of me. They looked uncomfortable, to say the least. Mr Morrison looked like he was somewhere in his 50s with brownish hair that was greying on the sides with a bald spot in the middle. His moustache seemed too thin for his face compared to the heavy rimmed glasses that rested on his nose. Whereas  Mrs Morrison was a lovely woman. Her blond hair was neatly tied back in a sleek ponytail. She appeared stunning for her age with almond-shaped eyes and fair skin, a pointed nose and rosy coloured lips. One might wonder as to what she possibly saw in Mr Morrison but then again, who am I to judge their choices.

"Why are we here? Who the hell are you?" Mr Morrison asks me.

"That's not important. What I really want to ask is where have you found June?" They look confused by my sudden query about their daughter. Mrs Morrison gasps loudly as her eyes widen, and Mr Morrison opens and closes his mouth, gasping like a fish.

"What business do you have with our daughter?" Mr Morrison asks.

"That worthless piece of shit must be busy dating you, rather than concentrating on her work at school," he spits. He attempts to get up from the chair and discovers that he can not move. He looks up at me and I raise my eyebrow in respond mocking him to keep trying.

You will be able to leave this place only when I let you leave.

"I will repeat myself again," I state calmly. "Where did you both find June?"

For the next few seconds, there was absolute silence until Mrs Morrison decided to break it. "One rainy night we found her at our doorstep. "she begins.

"Robert and I had just returned late in the evening from work and had just settled down after dinner to watch some TV," she gulps, and then continues. "That night it was raining cats and dogs, but we heard heavy banging at the front door. Curious as to who might be outside our door in this kind of weather, we both went out to look."

She breathes deeply and with uncertainty and fear looks up at me. "When we opened the door, we found no one waiting outside. Instead, someone had left a baby in a basket with a note tucked under the tiny, thin quilt that covered the fragile body of the baby."

I took my time to process the details. Earlier, I figured they weren't her biological parents, but I never thought anyone left her outside their doorstep. This just got more interesting. Who else knows about her anyway?

"What was written in that note?" I ask them.

Mr Morrison looks at his wife before answering me. They silently communicate with their eyes before Mrs Morrison nods her head at him in agreement.

"The note said that this baby was very special and we had to take care of her. Someday somebody will come looking for her but he doesn't have to know anything about her or how we found the baby so we moved to this town where nobody knew us." Mr Morrison hangs his head low and looks anywhere but me.

"Did you mistreat her all these years just because she's not your own daughter?" I scream at them.

By now, Mrs Morrison has tears streaming down her face, the mascara smeared everywhere leaving behind dark trails on her fair skin. She tries to dab the thin paper tissue on her tears but that didn't help much. She sobs clutching the arm of her husband.

"At first we loved her. But slowly as she started to grow up, we found a few odd things about her. They were barely visible at first. It had begun with the nightmares. In her sleep, she would scream out blabbering in a foreign language that neither Robert nor I understood. She would say these two names repeatedly though- Alex and Archer." She sniffles. My eyes widen at the revelation and gesture her to keep going.

"Especially on her back she had these odd markings on her body and one would think it's a tattoo but it looked more like she was branded with a hot iron rod, maybe. It's like someone was torturing her and we couldn't do anything about it" she visibly tenses.

"The traces would vanish after a day or two but then fresh ones would reappear. This lasted for years at least until she was ten years old."

"What more are you hiding from me?" I ask. "Don't bother lying cause I know there is more to this."

"A couple of years ago, we received another note." Mr Morrison says this time. "The note read this time to send her away, or lock her up somewhere he couldn't find her. Ever," he replies.

He helps himself to the glass of water placed on the table next to them before he continues, "We had no idea who he was. By that time, both Julia and I had been so shaken that we had no idea what to do or where to seek help. No one seemed to understand what was wrong with June, neither psychiatrists nor reputable doctors, but we couldn't just throw her away. We saw her since she was a baby. We thought maybe she was cursed or something so we just drowned ourselves in our work. We haven't given her time and I know she's blaming herself but what else could we have done?"

He looks up at me. "We were under this constant fear that she could be gone any day and we didn't even know who or what was going to come after her. It seemed like the only choice we had was to isolate ourselves."

I absorbed all this new information and it would be an understatement to say I was furious right now. So, was it all planned? Someone is hiding and lurking around in the shadows, manipulating everything and not even God can help them when I find that person. I look at both parents who, without any explanation, gave up on their daughter like that.

My June has been blaming herself all these years for nothing. "You are only going to listen to me from now on. Try to do otherwise and I'm going to strangle the little life out of you humans," I roared my eyes blazing and the golden flecks glowing around the irises. The room temperature rose visibly, and I could see drops of sweat dripping down their faces. By now, they were nodding their heads in agreement probably scared of their wits.

If June saw this side of Alexander, she would never look at him the same way again. Gone was the arrogant and cocky high schooler with the smirk who was chasing her at school craving her attention. Instead, there was a hundred-year-old monster sitting there with glowing eyes that shone almost ruby red with gold rings around them threatening her parents and meaning every word he had spoken to them.

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~XOXO

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