Those eyes danced down her face, chin, and nearly lathered across her exposed breasts. Stopping something indignant she wanted to say, Ann pulled back her hand from his grasp and huffed.

 “Thank you Brother Memphis.” She softly expressed. “If not for you, I would have fallen flat.” She smiled, without making it a sneer of open contempt. She was rather impressed with herself.

“Ah, Sister Ann? I hope you can forgive me. I was in such a rush and did not see you.” Brother Memphis smiled as he analyzed her in such a way that Ann no longer felt unadorned as a woman, even with the thick robes obscuring so much of her from view.

Suddenly she felt womanly and was disgusted by it. But she also fund a kernel of salvation in Brother Memphis’s attentions.

With a slight step to the side she inclined her head. “I know you are a busy man.” She began, before smirking. “But Id hate for you to injure another Sister with less confident footing then I. Next time we should both endeavor to move at a safe speed. Don’t you think?”

“Agreed.” Memphis smirked, before he touched her shoulder, for no discernable reason, other than a chance to close the distance between them. “I assure you I meant no harm...in fact I find I am over joyed at this chance meeting.”

“Are you?” She pressed, ignoring the glide of his rough hand across her collar, then down to the back of her ribs. She felt the cold bloom inside waiting for her, she could call forth the Mana and shatter his entire arm. Brother Memphis much like a few of the other men and women in the Brotherhood were nowhere near her in terms of how powerful her Aurora and Mana were.

The only ones who out ranked her in such places were the Grand Master, David and about a handful of other men and women. And the Abomination (though the boy she had meet only twice now seemed quite ignorant of his own power), and of course the Bane.

Once upon a time Eric would have been on that list, right up there beside of Hovel...but no more.

“Oh yes!” Memphis breathed, his eyes lingering on her lips as he glanced away and up. “You see I am positively ecstatic that one of my very own selections has reached such prestige among the Brotherhood. You have always been one of the brightest in this den of mediocrity, my Sister.”

Surprised by the comment Ann glanced at the man, then she looked down, and folded her hands.

“I remember the day you placed me with Eric. You made it possible for us to work together as teens, and because of your words we were placed into the Grand Masters confidences. I can’t tell you how much it meant to us both to be selected.”

Memphis was one of the few men in the Brotherhood who had enough power to appoint the younger novices to train under other more experienced Alchmists. He was one of what they called the Counsel. A group of five advisers, who ran the Base under Hovel, and handled daily affairs, from lodgings, teaching, maintenance, Awakenings and the selection of Novices to be Place Holders after their Awakenings were completed.

The counsel had no power, but they were integral to the function of the Brotherhood. The Savior was a busy man after all, and he needed Advisers who could handle the more menial tasks of running the Base. They were Designates, who wished they were kings. Every now and again they made covert grabs for power, they schemed and back handed each other in hopes of gaining more status then they had.

The Grand Master, one of the most adept and cunning at playing the Game let the foolish Counselors play their games, but every now and again he reminded them of their place. And his own.

Memphis blew a breath and put a knuckle under her chin. “Come now. There is no need to thank me Ann. When you and Eric were children I could feel the power you had to offer to the Brother Hood. Power that would help the Savior in his work. And now, even though we have lost Eric to the cruel touch of the Abomination...”

Ann bit her lip hard. She wilted inside a little as she let the blatant lie to Eric’s memory continue.

Memphis must had seen her eyes flash with fire, because he sighed. “I am sorry to speak of such unpleasant things, Ann. He was a great Second Hand. Let’s leave it at that.” Memphis paused and his wily gaze connected with her. Something brewing in his thoughts, something he masked as concern as he touched her again, this time grasping her shoulder, and pulling her closer. “Oh, but listen to me blubbering, when you look so unwell.”

He looked so much like Eric that she...

He’s not Eric! Eric’s dead!

Ann swallowed a few times, bile and frustration flushed across her, mixing unpleasantly with all of the thoughts in her head. Sighing in exhaustion she pressed a hand to her head. “I apologize. I hope you can understand. I’m truly not myself.” Ann shuddered. “I think we will have to cut this meeting short, will you excuse me?”

Brother Memphis stopped her by shaking her wrist in his hand. “But Ann I do understand.” He assured her gently tugging her to a stop. His green eyes analyzed her parlor. “What with David and his followers springing the Game upon you, you’re duties as a Second Hand to Hovel, and not to mention all this craziness happening with the Reaver! I know you can feel overwhelmed and overwrought. But I know your strength....and I know you are going to do all of us including the Savior proud. And I am standing with you.” Brother Memphis leaned close and pressed his lips to her temple. It was a benign action, meant to convey concern and harmless affection.

She felt a quick curl of want blossom in her stomach, not because of him, but because of his familiar face.

Ann pulled away first, but Memphis didn’t release her, instead he put a hand on her back, and steeped to her side. “Come with me back to my chambers, and I will give you a tonic that should help to settle your system, Ann. What do you think?”

“And why would you do that for me?” Ann softly rebuffed, she glanced around and gestured. “I’m sure you’re quite aware that I am a pariah in this Base, Brother. You would do better to put your lot in with David. That’s what I think.”

“Well, I put my lot in with the smartest Sister I have ever known...” Memphis chuckled, his green eyes sparkling as he tucked her closer. “As I have said, I am proud of you. And I want to be of help, if I can. That is all.”

“Of course.” Ann pretended to offer kindly. “That is all you want.” She dryly murmured, but allowed him to push her along. He was solid, and warm. He smelled of Vanilla. Or was that a lie? He smelled nothing like vanilla.

Memphis paused catching her eye, then he wrapped a sly hand around her hip, his strong fingers griped her side, inches above her backside and urged her to walk with him. Giving her a slow smile he brought his head close to her shoulder and agreed. “All I want. But know that Help is not nearly all that I would offer to you.”

An offer? Yet another man who would play the Game with me? But this one thinks to offer me Sex instead of a fight.

Ann would have laughed if she had the chagrin to summon. Instead she just felt....hollow. The stench of piss and blood roiled over he senses and she welcomed this moment...she welcomed this false offer of companionship, in place of the looming lunacy of her pain.

She had expected this perhaps. As much as she had expected the dangerous Games, she expected the sexual exploitation to follow. Brother Memphis wanted to woo her. He wanted her in his bed....because he wanted a direct link to Hovels ear.

He was kind to her, not because he truly wished to comfort her. OR was attracted to her. None of the men had ever expressed interest in her sexually. At one time she had feared it was because she was ugly, but she knew now that it was because she had intimidated most of the men her own age.

They traveled together, passing the outer branches of the first Foundation, and descending the High Corridor, until they came to the Second Foundation of the Base, the floor directly beneath the Sanctum. The Second Foundation was where all of the Counselors had barracks.

Once she had questioned why she as a novice had to sleep in a room, no bigger than a closet, while five men had one entire floor to themselves? She had never found her answer.

The Second Foundation was more opulent then it should have been, the walls, dashed with golden stylized eyes of the Scion, embossed along the giant door frames, she passed and carved into the squares of the marbled floors beneath her slippers. There were Diamond Vases full of white roses, that released no fragrance, and there were self-portraits of the five Counselors hung at intervals, between the five rooms that she passed.

Brother Memphis’s room was just as opulent as the rest. The Counselors space was large enough to accommodate nearly five of the rooms she had once slept in. Large plush cushions, finely detailed marble tables and various paintings adored the space.

There was a large secondary room, with a countertop, and behind that there was a large, semicircular cushion. Standing at the counter top Ann let Brother Memphis tend to her, by pouring her a drink from his many bottles suspended above the floor, or a rack. She knew most of the bottles were filled with wine, and polituces brewed by the Healers.

He selected a bottle at a glance, it was small and puke brown, with a cap on top that he popped with his deft fingers. The fluid came out lime clear.

She drank it without worry of poison. “Thank you...I feel better. ” She said once she had finished the modest serving, before pressing the glass back into his hands. He had poured her a sweet, sublime tonic into a crustal cup. The liquid had tasted of air, and cucumber. It had done nothing for her unsettled soul, but it had settled her stomach somewhat.

Memphis put the Glass down on the countertop, as once more took her hand into his, and led her across the room to the couch.

Ann settled and swiped at her short black hair. “I must say I am glad that we met, I have been sick on the stomach so much of late.”

“I’m glad it was of help...” Memphis paused, then he seemed to make a decision, and sank down beside her. He was all gentle words and movements as he took her hand and touched her cheek again. “Ann I want you to understand that I meant what I said. I am proud, and I have great faith in you as the Second. I also want to offer you my help in the coming weeks. You have a lot on you. A lot of eyes and responsibilities. I want you to know that I can support you if you have need. Its okay.”

Ann felt his thumb, caressing a circle in the palm of her hand, and like a jab to the brain it took her back to the past.

A time when she had been foolish and burned the back of her hand with flames that she had conjured with Alchemy. The flames had singed her elbow and upper shoulder, and scared her senseless.

They had been young. Barely out of the Awakening. Eric had tended to her wounds, wiped away her tears, and held her hand as Ann had the dead flesh pulled off by the Healer.

It’s okay Ann, don’t cry.

His eyes held hers as Eric rubbed his thumb over her trembling palm.

It’s okay.

“Memphis you can’t help me...I can’t even help me.” Ann barely whispered. Then she was weeping. She knew she should have said something else. She should have been doing something else, but she...dreaded the idea of moving. She dreaded the idea of thinking about moving. She just wanted to stop feeling. She decided that she was in a perpetual state of terror and unrest. She just wanted it to stop. “You don’t even care about me.”

Brother Memphis paused. He seemed taken back by her emotions, but he regrouped quickly, finding strength in her wretched tone.

“I do care.” He lied. “I just never expressed such things to you, because it was clear you were not looking for a shoulder to lean on. But I am trying to be that for you now. Okay?” Memphis touched his lips to hers. He was so close that she realized suddenly that he truly didn’t smell like vanilla at all. So she pretended he did. But he smelled more like licorice. His hands touched her face, then traveled down her sides, and pulled her closer.

She made no moves to stop him. In fact she wanted him to stop dancing around it.

She was not fooled, but when Memphis kissed her again, a little more boldly. His hands cupped her backside a little more strongly, she closed her eyes and she called upon the image that was making her spiral into insanity.

Her heart ached. Her skin begged for the memory of his touch, but she had no memory to indulge in. Just his image. The sound of his voice. She let Memphis play his game. Because she was playing her own.

One she was destined to lose.

But one that he could never win.

If God would not free her. She would seek freedom another way.

In spite. In suffering. In flesh. In pain.

As her God seemed to demand of her.

Perhaps this would be as good as it could have been with him? But she knew it wouldn’t be. In fact she was dreadfully sure that she was going to detest every second of this coupling. And yet she was nearly undone with the need to feel something other than this boundless despair. So she sought the pain as an escape.

Memphis eyes glittered with misplaced triumph as he drew the robes from her supple slender form. Sloppy wet lips stole her breath. Thick, cruel fingers, with clumsy nails, forced their ways inside of her. Her nipples and breasts were pinched and nibbled into fiery balls of painful sensation. And when he finally did get around to taking her, he did so first by taking her on her hands and knees like a dog. Then he took her womanhood.

***

The morning after, he tried to ask her for things. He tried to ask her to speak to Hovel on his behalf. He was so gentle. So nice. So not Eric.

She denied his every request. She left him floundering. He had been quite sure of her fragility. Her weakness. He had been sure that he had manipulated a scared, virginal, helpless Sister into his bed.

She made sure before she departed his rooms that he knew that it was Ann that had manipulated him.