09-16-2013, 01:02 PM
The rage in his heart ebbed as the woman spoke. It was obvious she could not give him the answers he needed, but he was grateful. The information she did provide gave him more than he had learned in 3 years.
His eyes narrowed as he watched her pace. He saw something like pain on her face, unease at least. Similar to when she had grabbed his arm before, but she had seemed to recover quickly enough. Did these cultists use drugs or other unsavoury...methods to control their people?
When she had finished, he took a moment to take in all that she had said. He was surprised that she questioned their cause so easily when the others he had come across had thrown themselves at him with reckless disregard for their own lives. Two years ago he had been attacked by two of the assassins in his temporary home. He had thrown a ball of fire - it was all he could do, all he knew at the time - that had melted the leading killer's face. The second did not even flinch as he charged Michael with a blade - poisoned, as he later found out.
He was not surprised to learn the reasons they hunted. In fact, he was a little disappointed. He thought perhaps they knew something more...substantial. As it was, it sounded much like an ordinary cult.
However, it troubled him. Cult as it may be, there was some substance to it, which made it the most dangerous kind of cult possible.
"I killed someone."
he said in a cool voice, providing an answer. "When I first encountered this power. Unintentional, but he is still dead."
He watched her closely for a reaction, although he had come to trust her, odd as it was. Her words were genuine and she showed an awareness of the inconsistencies in the cult that he respected. Killing was a simple thing, but to kill with the knowledge that you may not be justified, yet believe that it is for the best belied strength.
Or perhaps it was simply because she did not want to kill him. Michael was not sure, but he found himself agreeing with her.
"Your people are right in one respect,"
he continued. "The power makes us extremely dangerous. I could kill you in an instant."
There was no threat in his voice, if anything, it was weary. He was very good with that particular talent, but it brought nothing but disappointment or regret. "But there is so much more to the power than death. T-...Someone...with the power can learn to heal. A fatal wound can be healed in moments, not even leaving a scar."
It was rare that he spoke with such excitment, but he wanted -needed- for this woman to know that death was not the only thing the power could bring.
To prove I am not a monster...
"Your's is not the first cult to claim moral superiority. It is a dangerous thing. I am grateful to you that you are willing to question, but these...Atharim are the monsters. Merciless killers."
He raised a hand in case she wanted to object before he had finished. "I know well, killing is sometimes the only way - but we are not evil. I have no sympathy for indiscriminate killing."
His voice went cold. "I have no sympathy for the dozens of Atharim I killed when they hunted me."
He sighed, suddenly extremely weary. "I don't make idle threats. I am saying this so you understand why. I may have the power to be dangerous, but it was the Atharim who forced me to fight back. I don't know why I or those like me have this power, but we are not evil, and we learn."
His voice took on a dangerous edge, although it was not directed at the woman. "If your people do not change, we will learn enough to fight back. Down that road lies war."
The prospect terrified him. Not because he feared to fight, but because deep in his heart the possibility thrilled him. "And you will lose."
He paused a moment. He did not want to repay her with threats. He softened his tone and smiled at her, although he was not used to smiling. "But you have given me some measure of hope. Thank you for your honesty. You said you had questions. I will do my best to answer in return."
His eyes narrowed as he watched her pace. He saw something like pain on her face, unease at least. Similar to when she had grabbed his arm before, but she had seemed to recover quickly enough. Did these cultists use drugs or other unsavoury...methods to control their people?
When she had finished, he took a moment to take in all that she had said. He was surprised that she questioned their cause so easily when the others he had come across had thrown themselves at him with reckless disregard for their own lives. Two years ago he had been attacked by two of the assassins in his temporary home. He had thrown a ball of fire - it was all he could do, all he knew at the time - that had melted the leading killer's face. The second did not even flinch as he charged Michael with a blade - poisoned, as he later found out.
He was not surprised to learn the reasons they hunted. In fact, he was a little disappointed. He thought perhaps they knew something more...substantial. As it was, it sounded much like an ordinary cult.
However, it troubled him. Cult as it may be, there was some substance to it, which made it the most dangerous kind of cult possible.
"I killed someone."
he said in a cool voice, providing an answer. "When I first encountered this power. Unintentional, but he is still dead."
He watched her closely for a reaction, although he had come to trust her, odd as it was. Her words were genuine and she showed an awareness of the inconsistencies in the cult that he respected. Killing was a simple thing, but to kill with the knowledge that you may not be justified, yet believe that it is for the best belied strength.
Or perhaps it was simply because she did not want to kill him. Michael was not sure, but he found himself agreeing with her.
"Your people are right in one respect,"
he continued. "The power makes us extremely dangerous. I could kill you in an instant."
There was no threat in his voice, if anything, it was weary. He was very good with that particular talent, but it brought nothing but disappointment or regret. "But there is so much more to the power than death. T-...Someone...with the power can learn to heal. A fatal wound can be healed in moments, not even leaving a scar."
It was rare that he spoke with such excitment, but he wanted -needed- for this woman to know that death was not the only thing the power could bring.
To prove I am not a monster...
"Your's is not the first cult to claim moral superiority. It is a dangerous thing. I am grateful to you that you are willing to question, but these...Atharim are the monsters. Merciless killers."
He raised a hand in case she wanted to object before he had finished. "I know well, killing is sometimes the only way - but we are not evil. I have no sympathy for indiscriminate killing."
His voice went cold. "I have no sympathy for the dozens of Atharim I killed when they hunted me."
He sighed, suddenly extremely weary. "I don't make idle threats. I am saying this so you understand why. I may have the power to be dangerous, but it was the Atharim who forced me to fight back. I don't know why I or those like me have this power, but we are not evil, and we learn."
His voice took on a dangerous edge, although it was not directed at the woman. "If your people do not change, we will learn enough to fight back. Down that road lies war."
The prospect terrified him. Not because he feared to fight, but because deep in his heart the possibility thrilled him. "And you will lose."
He paused a moment. He did not want to repay her with threats. He softened his tone and smiled at her, although he was not used to smiling. "But you have given me some measure of hope. Thank you for your honesty. You said you had questions. I will do my best to answer in return."
"She saw a flaring halo around his head, radiant in gold and blue. It shouted of glory and power to come"
"No matter how fast light travels, it finds the darkness has always got there first, and is waiting for it."