At the Beginning With You

— The night before —

His actions, Calder mused, was probably considered borderline stalking.

But there was little to amuse himself with, and with the possibility of assassins running around, he could not afford to stay far from her. After all, he had been too familiar with the consequences of what might befall Ash in his absence. So with this grim reality firmly embedded in his mind, Calder had chosen to watch over Ash from the rooftop opposite her bedroom.

Well, it was either the rooftop or sitting against a branch on a tree and given a choice, he would rather be stretched out comfortably than be confirmed to an upright position. Besides, the terrain on his side was higher than the terrain on her side, so even lying down, Calder had a perfect view of her bedroom.

He shifted to a more comfortable position and leaned back, resting his head on his interwoven fingers.

The night air was cool against his skin, and even though it was right in the middle of summer, there were no insects or mosquitos about. He tilted his head up, expecting to see stars glittering in the sky but found none. Instead, a layer of cloud obscured his view of the stars and even his sharp eyesight could not pick out any individual constellations.

Without permission, his eyes fluttered closed and a sigh escaped his lips. How long had it been since he had last enjoyed a relaxing night like this? How long had it been since he had left all his problems aside, and truly been himself? Not as Calder Storm, Second Heir and member of the Elite, but just himself? Too long. It had been too long since he had enjoyed the little pleasures of life and things certainly were not going to get any easier from now on.

But he had never been one to back down from a challenge, and he certainly was not going to start now, not with her life in the balance. His thoughts slowly died out as fatigue overtook him, and he welcomed the respite that it would give him.

Something moved in the bush below him.

Rustle. Rustle. Rustle.

…
..
.

A rustle of clothing.

Without even glancing up, or probing with his mind, Calder knew who stood in front of him. Knew every contour of that familiar yet so foreign face. Knew that save for the eyes, the face was identical to his own. Knew that he stood before him.

His…brother.

“Calder.” There was a soft wistfulness in his voice that Calder chose to ignore, but like a broken CD player, that one word echoed continuously in his mind, relentlessly battling him with images of their childhood, when his brother had laughed so carefree with him and protected him in times of danger. But that time was long gone now.

Wordlessly, Calder only clutched Ash’s rapidly paling body more tightly against his chest, as if trying to protect her against him in her last minutes.

He had failed countless times before, and he would be damned if he couldn’t even do this now.

“Leave. Don’t you think you’ve done enough already?” Calder finally looked up at his brother and fixed him with a glare full of loathing and hatred.

“I can fix all of this.”

Involuntarily, Calder drew in a breath and his eyes widened. Fix…all of this? Fix the tragedy that he had so unwittingly caused and maybe, just maybe, Ash could be…

Then reality crashed down on him and his mouth hardened into a sneer. “Pretty words. But isn’t this what you want? Why bother trying to change all this when you know that she won’t ever change? After all, wasn’t this your goal from the start, to kill her?”

Calder felt, rather than saw, the sudden rage that enveloped his brother and as his murderous eyes turned onto his own, he noticed that the slivery gray depths were slowly darkening, a sure sign that his brother was on the verge of losing his temper. And from experience, Calder knew that once his brother lost his temper, there was nothing to hold him back.

So it came somewhat as a surprise when his brother released a long sigh and his rage seemed to dissipate. However, the flickering of his eyes still showed that he had not fully calmed down yet, and was only suppressing his anger.

“Listen to me. It’s the only way.”

Calder raised an eyebrow and allowed disbelief to colour his words.

“After all this, you still think I would trust you? You must be more delusional than I thought you were.”

His brother ran a hand through his hair and released a frustrated sigh.

“Listen to me! If you don’t want history to repeat itself, you must do as I say. If you really love her as much you say you do, then listen to me. Unless you would rather she be dead, which by the looks of things here, will be sooner rather than later.”

Calder’s mouth closed with a sharp click and he glared vehemently at his brother. “Explain yourself, then.” He hissed, eyes narrowed. He knew that her life was nearing its end, but to be so callously reminded of this bitter fact was more than he could take.

Unbeknownst to Calder, in his eyes, swirls of gold were slowly mixing with his black depths but what he did know, was that the palpable anger that was radiating off him seemed to astonish his brother for a brief moment before his face smoothed over.

“She doesn’t have much time, so don’t interrupt me. We’ve wasted enough time as it is—”

At the hidden insult, the waves of anger inside Calder coalesced into one and he couldn’t help but snarl back, “And whose fault is that? If it wasn’t for you, she wouldn’t have even been in this situation in the first place!”

“Life-Force Transfer.”

However, these two words stopped his angry tirade.

“Do you understand what I’m saying? Or do I need to explain it?” There was scorn in his brother’s voice but Calder was more focused on a wisp of memory that fleetingly passed through his mind. This was…

“Correct,” his brother said. “It’s a Forbidden Technique that requires a large amount of Power to complete, and only those with the Training can do it. However, in this case, alterations need to be made and that’s where you come in.” He paused and shot a scrutinising look at Calder. “Can I continue, or will you once again interrupt me with your incessant babblings?”

Fighting to keep his temper, Calder gave a barely perceptible nod for his brother to continue, and taking his cue, he began speaking again.

…

When he finished, a long silence descended upon the two brothers, and were it not for the slow rising and falling of the human girl’s chest between them, one would almost think that the three were mere statues, so frozen were the two brothers.

Calder turned his head away, his gaze landing on the fragile girl, human girl in his arms. When he spoke, his voice lacked its usual venom towards his brother.
“Will it really work?”

“It’s up to you. You do understand what you have to do, right?” Without looking, Calder could almost picture the smirk on his brother’s face, the exact same replica that he himself often used.

“Yes…but it requires a lot of—”

Calder ignored the pointed look that his brother aimed in his direction, and instead continued on with a new train of thought.

“…and a human sac—”

An aggravated growl broke through his sentence. “It’s a simple question. Yes or no? Otherwise—”

“—Why not you? Why not send yourself back in time and fix it yourself?” His mouth seemed to have a mind of its own, and blurted out the question before he could stop himself.

“Because she NEVER trusted me! Only you!”

His brother’s sudden outburst shocked both of them, and an uneasy silence settled between the brothers. Calder was aware of the underlying meaning behind his brother’s words.

She never trusted—loved—his brother, and only—loved—him. But right now, Calder felt no joy at hearing his brother admit this, for the girl they both loved lay dying in his arms, and fickle admissions were not relevant.

“Yes or no?” His brother snarled, his face turned away from Calder.

Yes…meaning that he had the chance to fix all of this. If there was a chance, just the slightest chance that somehow, she could be saved, then he would take it. Regardless of what the consequence would be to himself, she was more important, and had always been.

“I…yes.”

And for the first time in a long time, Calder felt pity for his brother. Pity that his love was unrequited. Pity that when he had finally shown some tentative humanity, it was not to last. But most of all, pity that some semblance of the brother that he had once known, admired…loved, was once more buried underneath that impenetrable wall.

…

Calder jolted awake, the dream, if you could call it that, dissipating immediately as he realised the reason for his impromptu waking. His eyes narrowed in recognition and a second later, he landed with a soft thud on the ground below before taking off at a run.

You!

Back in her room, a sigh escaped her lips as Ash finally fell asleep.

…Nick.



— Present —

Ash groaned and rolled over, trying to figure out exactly why she was so uncomfortable and cold. Or at least, she tried to roll over. To her surprise, her movement was hindered by the feeling of coarse ropes around her ankles and what appeared to be…?

Momentarily stunned by what greeted her when her eyes flew open, it took her the better half of a minute to realise that she was currently being held captive in a bedroom, complete with its own bathroom. Obviously, her captors weren’t too concerned about where to chain her up, seeing as she was lying haphazardly on the floor when there was a perfectly usable, if somewhat dusty, bed right above her.

A clanging sound confirmed her earlier suspicion (as did the burst of pain when she twisted awkwardly) and Ash glanced up to find that her hands were actually in a handcuff chained to the bedpost.

You’ve got to be kidding me…

Her memories of what happened before she got knocked out were hazy at best and it certainly didn’t help that everything appeared to be brighter, more vivid, which was just adding onto her headache that she woke up with.

For reasons unknown to her, Ash was currently tied up and probably kept somewhere where she was under watch (if all those police shows that she watched were true), meaning that there was little to no chance of her escaping.

Yeah. Like she was going anywhere while being handcuffed to a freaking bed. Out of sheer frustration, Ash twisted and pulled her hands but all she managed to accomplish was hurting herself. And probably alerting whoever was outside the room that she was now awake and trying—trying being the operative word—to escape.

She took a deep breath, mentally telling herself to calm down and actually think of something that would help her in this situation. Mindlessly freaking out would get her nowhere, if not make her more hysterical and therefore worsening her situation. “Okay, first things first, assess whether I have anything on me or in the room that could be of any use.”

From past experience, Ash had discovered that if faced with an almost impossible task, it somewhat doable (or at least it seemed so) if she said out aloud her plan on how to deal with it. And she was hoping that it would somehow apply to her current situation as well. She sought comfort in the fact that even though her mind was a jumble of the possible (and not too pleasant) fates that could await her, her voice did not tremble.

From what she could see—and those that she couldn’t see, she tried darn hard to see—there wasn’t much in the room, only the bed, a dresser and a dusty-looking chair that looked ready to collapse in the corner. Interestingly enough, the window or more accurately the floor-to-ceiling glass window, opposite her wasn’t boarded up and the curtains were actually (half-) open, allowing sunlight to splash into the otherwise dim room.

Ash snorted in derision. So her kidnappers obviously decided that the floor was a good enough place to dump her on but were kind enough to allow sunlight into the room? Weird.

However, given the fact that she could hear the occasion car and truck driving past, Ash deducted that she wasn’t being held in some remote, rundown shack and was probably closer to civilisation than she thought. Deciding that it was worth a shot, Ash tried to maneuver herself closer to the window, hoping that it would give her some clue as to where she was. And if miraculously, anyone driving or walking by happened to see her…or any part of her body visible from the window, then it was all for the better.

After much struggling, twisting and grunting, Ash finally collapsed back down in defeat, her head spinning from one too many failed attempts at trying to flip herself onto the bed. Seeing as the bed was in-between the window and her, it seemed logical to use it as a stepping stone of sort to gain enough elevation to actually catch a glimpse of the outside world…and hopefully, letting the outside world catch a glimpse of her.

But the cursed handcuffs always got in her way, unceremoniously cutting short her momentum before she could fully land on the bed (…and why the heck was the bed so high anyway?). So unless her eyes had actually relocated to her feet, then she could see absolutely nothing at all. Talk about a twisted form of high jumping.

Ash silently cursed under her breath when she heard the telltale sign of footsteps nearing the room, before the lock rattled and then clicked opened. Great. Just great. Exactly what she needed to make her situation even more depressing than before. Even if she managed to free herself, by some random stroke of miracle, then she would have to contend with the locked door, and knowing her luck, the door was more than likely to swing open during her attempted jailbreak and her captors would catch her before she could even make a dash for freedom, however short it might be.

She let out a breath that was halfway between a sob and a sigh. Apparently her pathetic attempts at the Olympic high jumping over the Bed From Hell had drawn somebody's attention. The person however, didn’t immediately walk through the door which led Ash to think that this was only a lackey opening the door for someone higher up.

Glancing futilely around the room, Ash desperately tried to think of something to do, any plan to execute, anything to do, other than just wait like a sitting duck. Her eyes skimmed frantically over the chair, the window, the dresser…wait, the floor-to-ceiling glass window.

If she could somehow get free—her eyes flickered to the adjourning bathroom—then forget the locked door, she had a breakable glass panel right opposite her.

She strained her ears to hear anything but when it was apparent that there was a lack of activity outside her door, she frowned in bewilderment. Unless she had imagined up the footsteps and lock clicking open, then there was someone on the other side, just unwilling to come into the room.

(But that wasn’t important. What was more important, though—

Really, that was a bit strange. Seeing as how kidnappers probably loved to intimidate and watch their captives cower in fear, why the heck was her captor so different? It would figure that even while being kidnapped, Ash would get the odd one out.

The door knob rattled.

Ash waited.

And waited.

And waited.

—was that a curse she heard?—

Her tentative hopes of escaping were all but dashed when she heard the metallic click and the rapidly retreating footsteps of whoever was outside the door.

Emerald eyes narrowed in confusion.

Her ears were deceiving her. They must be, otherwise how could she explain the broken whisper that she heard…so full of regret and anguish?

I’m sorry.

—was why she felt like she had been betrayed, abandoned.)