Chapter 13
And so another week passed by.... but nothing really changed with Brandon’s situation.
Ove the course of the week Brandon had spent time either sequestered alone in his room....or actively out of his room participating in various repairs to the Leopards Mansion.
Feeling painfully responsible for the attack Brandon threw most of his energy into scrubbing away blood, plastering and paining across the holes ripped into the walls by claws.
He also helped Glen, Erin, Nate and Drin moves in new furniture that the other Leopards in the Clan carved for Mantilo. Brandon liked the work, mostly because it was distraction, but soon there was nothing left to fix and he once more had to face reality.
But....he wouldn’t.
In the morning Brandon took his food back to his room in fear that he would encounter Ezekiel at the breakfast table, and whenever Ezekiel walked near him or past him Brandon developed the habit of completely ignoring him. And...Ezekiel did the same.
Their behavior towards each other was awkward and far from graceful and on more than one occasion Brandon had caught Ezekiel’s brothers and cousins cringing or even down right laughing out loud (Lander). But Brandon was glad to face that embarrassment versus the emotional whiplash from thinking of talking to Ezekiel upfront.
So...It was now two whole weeks since Hovel and Jacob had attacked and still Brandon and Ezekiel remained apart. Brandon felt like he was in limbo, unable to move forwards or backwards. Knowing that Ezekiel would be out patrolling for many long hours to come Brandon had decided to come out of his room, and settle down in the newly furnished living room of the mansion to think. The large room was empty and silent....leaving Brandon to do all the pacing and muttering he could muster. Until he was exhausted by his own emotions. Never before had he felt so much in one period of time.
Even after seemingly coming to a decision to turn away from Ezekiel Brandon found himself constantly waffling around.
Even after speaking with Walter Brandon wasn’t able to truly come to any type of decision.
Should he turn Ezekiel away? Yes.
Did he want Ezekiel to walk out of his life forever? No.
Brandon told himself that he and Ezekiel couldn’t be together. But was it cowardice? OR was it simply the truth?
Suddenly Brandon put his hands to his face, screamed and then Brandon fell backwards. Landing in a dejected slump in a cushy arm chair, with his head resting back and his tired eyes trained on the distant ceiling....
Brandon had been sleeping poorly the last few days. He felt a dark cloud on his mind. A cloud that often signaled that he was in for another nightmare. So Brandon had slept light, often only grabbing a handful of minutes at a time, before awakening once more.
“Just...a few minutes...” Brandon now sighed as his eyes seemed to magnetize shut against his will. In seconds lethargy made him numb to his own swirling thoughts.
But even as he escaped some of the emotional baggage....he ran head long into other types of problems and thoughts.
Images flashed across his mind. Sensations traced his spine.
Jacobs’s chest cavity broken and bursting all over him, spraying his face and skin with gore and flesh.
To destroy. To flush his system with strength and power....
Brandon could feel a ghost of the Flames willingness to be turned lose on Jacob. He could still remember the seamless way he had wielded the power and shot it into Jacobs core. The utter need he’d felt to go wild. To kill. Not to feed. But simply to be unleased. To rampage.
What am I?
Brandon whispered inside as he fled from the memories. Then Brandon felt the Flame wiggle in his soul. And with a small flare of annoyance he shouted.
And what the fuck are you!?
That question brought up the unpleasant image of Hovels cold eyes and condescending voice. Brandon listed to the Grand Master scream in his head then he shook his head and puzzled the words that still echoed in his mind.
Hovel.....said the Flame isn’t this things real name...and he said that my power was The Precursor? I don’t get it! What the fuck does all of this even mean!? And why does my blood seem so important to Jacob?
Brandon puzzled and puzzled, but all he kept coming back to was his possible relationship with Ezekiel and the confusion surrounding his own biology. And even with his eyes closed Brandon still felt his fists harden.
Then he started to ask himself.
If Hovel means that my power is the Origin of Alchemy....then what do I do with that? What is this powers true name? Why.....is something like this inside of me?
***
Brandon was so caught up in his own turmoil...that when everything suddenly went silent in his head. It took him a moment to realize that he was already dreaming.
But in that moment Brandon knew that this was not the average repeating dream. No....this was not like any dream Brandon had experience before. There was no strobe light sun glaring across mountain tops. No screaming, bloody twin versions of himself holding swords.
No.....this time, Brandon was floating in a star lit sky. Thousands of pin points of light speckled the heavens above him and stretched out below him was a grass knoll. A lush patch of earth, in shadowed on all side, and impregnated with a tense silence that no cricket or breeze dared to disturb.
For an indeterminate time Brandon hung there and wondered.
What the Hell is this..?
Until the sudden movement of tow figures danced into view beneath the dim starlight.
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