Interval Three of HUMANITY
Marksman Law
“ Mirage.”
The voice calling her name was
unfamiliar. She tried to open her eyes and couldn’t. They were
heavy, like iron weights.
“ Come on, honey, you can
do it.”
A hand, dainty and soft,
combed through her hair, fingertips grazing against her small
horns. Mirage tried to open her eyes again and failed. It was so
peaceful. She was being rocked gently, a loud rhythmic patter of
water against metal lulling her back to her unnatural
sleep… water against metal?
Slowly, like the rising
light of dawn, sensations began to assault her. The rocking lurched
her forward, moving in such a way that she could feel the
vibrations through the cold metal she lay on. Cold metal…Mirage’s
throat caught. Where was she? Her hearing was the next sense to
fully return to her, bringing the low thrum of a machine, a motor
perhaps. A car? What had happened? She couldn’t remember anything. Mirage
groaned, trying to clear her mind. Her head was heavy, like iron,
and it was difficult for her to turn to the side. Her cheek laid
flat against the thin sheet like cloth that covered the cold metal.
What was going on?
Something inside her knew she didn’t
want to understand the circumstances that surrounded her, that the
reason why her memories were so hesitant was because she was trying
to protect herself from an unimaginable pain. A pain she wasn’t
ready to face.
“ Mirage, get up.” There
was more authority to the voice now. “Use that Child of the Dusk
strength and wake up. We need to heal your mother and it isn’t safe
for you to stay with us.”
It was then she realized that her
hands were clenching against smooth arms, her nails pressing into
smooth, soft skin. She was holding something…a flash of white in
red and black flames…she was holding her mother.
Her memories came back in
the form of raven flames and monsters in flight and she woke
screaming, seeing the face hidden behind silver metal. “I’ll kill him!”
The woman who’d been leaning over her
backed away, her eyes wide. She wore a silk white coat, the
Altruistics healing hands signet adorning her chest.
“ Mirage?”
She forced her breathing under control
and blinked away the after-images of her memories. “Where is
he?”
The Child of the Dawn backed away and
put her hands up. Delicate blue lines wound her wrist, trailing to
thin swirls on her fingertips. “Where is who? Mirage, honey, calm
down. You need to listen to me. Please tell me what
happened.”
“ Michael…he…” Mirage
choked and shook her head. She had no way of knowing exactly what
had happened…her memory blurred after hearing Michael’s voice from
behind the cruel Nordic mask.
The woman nodded sympathetically as
she stepped closer. “My name’s Charity and I was the one who showed
your mother around the Emissary hospital. I can sense disturbances
and…” Charity hesitated, “…and the distress you felt was enough to
be a beacon for us to follow. We found you holding your mother in
some cinders. That was all that was left of your home.”
Mirage cleared her voice. “I was
alone?”
“ Yes, who else would have
been with you?”
Mirage shook her head. “They came for
us.”
“ The Humanitarians.”
Charity made the question a statement as she bent over to help
Mirage sit up. She took the help gratefully, gaining comfort in the
warm small hands that pressed on her shoulders. “Mirage, did you
kill any humans?”
“ What was I supposed to
do?” Mirage snapped. “They were trying to kill us!”
“ You don’t have to defend
yourself to me, honey. I know how a Child of the Dusk thinks. You
had a right to protect what you love, but that won’t make a
difference to the humans.” Charity turned Mirage’s head with a
finger beneath her chin. “You know that.”
Mirage nodded, trying to swallow past
the mass of fear constricting her throat. “I know.”
Charity gave her a searching look
before combing a
Marksman Law
“ Mirage.”
The voice calling her name was
unfamiliar. She tried to open her eyes and couldn’t. They were
heavy, like iron weights.
“ Come on, honey, you can
do it.”
A hand, dainty and soft,
combed through her hair, fingertips grazing against her small
horns. Mirage tried to open her eyes again and failed. It was so
peaceful. She was being rocked gently, a loud rhythmic patter of
water against metal lulling her back to her unnatural
sleep… water against metal?
Slowly, like the rising
light of dawn, sensations began to assault her. The rocking lurched
her forward, moving in such a way that she could feel the
vibrations through the cold metal she lay on. Cold metal…Mirage’s
throat caught. Where was she? Her hearing was the next sense to
fully return to her, bringing the low thrum of a machine, a motor
perhaps. A car? What had happened? She couldn’t remember anything. Mirage
groaned, trying to clear her mind. Her head was heavy, like iron,
and it was difficult for her to turn to the side. Her cheek laid
flat against the thin sheet like cloth that covered the cold metal.
What was going on?
Something inside her knew she didn’t
want to understand the circumstances that surrounded her, that the
reason why her memories were so hesitant was because she was trying
to protect herself from an unimaginable pain. A pain she wasn’t
ready to face.
“ Mirage, get up.” There
was more authority to the voice now. “Use that Child of the Dusk
strength and wake up. We need to heal your mother and it isn’t safe
for you to stay with us.”
It was then she realized that her
hands were clenching against smooth arms, her nails pressing into
smooth, soft skin. She was holding something…a flash of white in
red and black flames…she was holding her mother.
Her memories came back in
the form of raven flames and monsters in flight and she woke
screaming, seeing the face hidden behind silver metal. “I’ll kill him!”
The woman who’d been leaning over her
backed away, her eyes wide. She wore a silk white coat, the
Altruistics healing hands signet adorning her chest.
“ Mirage?”
She forced her breathing under control
and blinked away the after-images of her memories. “Where is
he?”
The Child of the Dawn backed away and
put her hands up. Delicate blue lines wound her wrist, trailing to
thin swirls on her fingertips. “Where is who? Mirage, honey, calm
down. You need to listen to me. Please tell me what
happened.”
“ Michael…he…” Mirage
choked and shook her head. She had no way of knowing exactly what
had happened…her memory blurred after hearing Michael’s voice from
behind the cruel Nordic mask.
The woman nodded sympathetically as
she stepped closer. “My name’s Charity and I was the one who showed
your mother around the Emissary hospital. I can sense disturbances
and…” Charity hesitated, “…and the distress you felt was enough to
be a beacon for us to follow. We found you holding your mother in
some cinders. That was all that was left of your home.”
Mirage cleared her voice. “I was
alone?”
“ Yes, who else would have
been with you?”
Mirage shook her head. “They came for
us.”
“ The Humanitarians.”
Charity made the question a statement as she bent over to help
Mirage sit up. She took the help gratefully, gaining comfort in the
warm small hands that pressed on her shoulders. “Mirage, did you
kill any humans?”
“ What was I supposed to
do?” Mirage snapped. “They were trying to kill us!”
“ You don’t have to defend
yourself to me, honey. I know how a Child of the Dusk thinks. You
had a right to protect what you love, but that won’t make a
difference to the humans.” Charity turned Mirage’s head with a
finger beneath her chin. “You know that.”
Mirage nodded, trying to swallow past
the mass of fear constricting her throat. “I know.”
Charity gave her a searching look
before combing a
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