Apotheosis of the Immortal (31 page)

Chapter 64

Elijah sat up
coughing when icy water once again invaded his mouth and nose.

“Wake up!” Ayda shouted as she soaked him with another bucket of water.

Elijah shook his head, hard, trying to clear his mind while also examining his surroundings. He was in some sort of primitive dwelling, much like the one where his family had lived before moving to the castle.

“I saved your life?” Elijah asked. Ayda’s brows lifted haughtily as she dropped the bucket.

“No, I saved your life. You arrogant—” she began.

“Stop; I have heard it before.” Elijah held up his hand. “And my father? What happened to him?” he asked as Ayda handed him a cup of water.

“Don’t worry; he is thousands of miles away,” she said.

Elijah examined his body, which was beginning to heal, and then sighed and closed his eyes as he leaned back. “No! I must find him!” Elijah attempted to leap to his feet. “Ahh!” he shouted and grabbed his chest.

“You can’t; you’re not even healed yet. You need to rest, and even if you were healthy, you are still not ready,” Ayda raised her voice when he tried to interrupt.

Elijah’s last clear memory hit him like a hammer between the eyes; even with all of Elijah’s strength, his father had still beaten him. He didn’t understand why he had been unable defeat his father, but he had to try again.

“Thank you for your help, but you do not understand. This is all I have; nothing else matters.” Elijah slowly rose to his feet.

“Listen, I can help you, but you must give me time,” Ayda said as she grabbed his arm and helped him to a chair.

“Help me? How could you possibly help me?” Elijah looked at the table in front of him and then up at Ayda.

“I brought you here, didn’t I? From more than a mile out to sea. I just might surprise you,” she said with a slight smile. “You won’t need long to heal. Just give me a few days, and if you still want to leave, I won’t stand in your way,” she said as she tossed Elijah a piece of fruit. He ate one and then another, and then another.

“What kind of sword is that?” Elijah pointed at the sword he had first seen in her tent back at camp.

“That is not just a sword. It is a katana. It is the weapon of the Samurai, whose way of life I have grown to deeply respect.” She picked it up and gently caressed the blade. “Rest now; we will begin in the morning.”

Chapter 65

“Hold the sword
with two hands!” Ayda shouted.

“This is fucking ridiculous; I am fighting the air. It’s a waste of my time. I’m sorry; I have to go.” Elijah dropped the blade and began walking toward the path leading through the mountains to the east. “Where are the horses?” Elijah stopped and scanned the landscape.

“What horses?” she shrugged.

“The horses we rode here. I distinctly remember galloping,” Elijah answered as he turned to face her, the sound now clear in his mind.

“You were dreaming; now pick up the sword,” she demanded.

“No, thank you for all the help, but this is pointless.” Elijah continued on the path.

“Stop!” Ayda shouted, and he did. “Fight me, right now,” she urged. “If you can beat me, then you may leave.” She picked up the katana and threw it to Elijah.

“I appreciate all you have done. And I don’t want to kill you; you don’t even have another sword.” Elijah looked at the sword for a moment and then at Ayda. He had missed her when she left him, and he knew he would miss her again, but he had to leave. Killing his father meant everything.

“I don’t need one,” she said as she stepped closer.

“You might think you know me, but you don’t. I will kill you without a second thought; I have killed hundreds of innocents, women and children included.” Elijah raised the sword.

“Show me,” she pressed.

“If you insist.” Elijah quickly stepped forward and brought the katana chopping down towards her neck. In an instant his hand was frozen in midair. Her back was against his chest and her right arm around the back of his neck. Leaning forward, she slung him over her shoulder and onto the ground.

He leapt to his feet immediately, lunging forward with the blade, but Ayda spun to escape it. She trapped his wrist under her right arm, and with her left palm she struck the back of his elbow hard, snapping it. Letting go of his wrist, she struck him once more in the back and sent him crashing to the ground once again.

“Stop playing with me, Elijah! Really fight! ” she yelled.

“You are crazy if you think I’m going to kill you,” he said.

Picking up the sword, Ayda stalked towards Elijah’s broken body with purpose. When he rolled to his back, the katana was already at his neck.

“Are you ready to learn now, or are you going to continue to act like a stubborn child?”

Elijah snapped his arm back into place and pushed himself upright. Grabbing the sword’s blade, Elijah pulled her closer, forcing the blade through his shoulder. Once he had pulled her close enough, he grabbed her throat with his right hand and pushed himself forward until he landed on top of her.

“Do you yield?” he shouted as he squeezed her neck harder and harder. Pushing up with her hips, Ayda flipped Elijah onto his back and rolled on top of him. Quickly pulling the sword from Elijah’s shoulder, she pressed the sharp blade hard against his neck.

“I’m not sure what you are or how to kill you, but I bet severing your head will work.” She pressed the blade harder against his neck until blood began to pour.

“Maybe, maybe not. Let’s try it and find out.” Elijah grabbed the blade and pulled hard until it sank more than an inch into his neck.

“You
are
crazy!” she shouted as she jumped to her feet with the sword. Elijah lay on the ground for few moments until the wound healed and then pushed to his feet.

“Do you still not understand?” Elijah asked, wiping the blood from his neck. “I have longed for death for as long as I can remember. The only reason I am still alive is hate. I need to kill my father. Then I’ll be happy to kill myself.” Elijah turned and walked once more towards the path.

“Wait, Elijah. I can help you. You are not lacking in strength or in skill. It is your discipline. You are a volcano of emotion, and that eruption of emotion is what gets in your way. It makes you careless and vulnerable, especially when you are fighting an adversary who cares for nothing.” She laid her sword on the ground and walked towards him. “I can teach you the control you need; I can teach you to find your center.” Racing up to him, she stopped and gently placed her hand on his bare chest.

“You mean to be detached, without desire, like Arjuna?” He tried to walk around her, but she stepped to the side and blocked him once more.

“Yes and no. That is a good example, but you have misunderstood Arjuna. He was filled with emotion and conflict; he was torn apart by some of the things Krishna asked him to do, like killing his own family,” she said.

“Like my father. I have no respect for anyone who would kill their own family.”

“No, not like your father. Arjuna was doing what he thought was right, what his god wanted him to do,” Ayda insisted, pressing harder against his chest.

“I have seen too many people do evil in the name of their god. It is still just as evil, even if they truly believe it is the will of their god.” Elijah’s voice was now just a whisper.

“The point is, Arjuna had no magic way to turn off his emotions; he simply controlled them. Once he made up his mind about what he needed to do, he put everything else aside and focused on the task at hand, one action after another. Actually, the principles in the story of Arjuna, and in Hinduism in general, are foundations of the principles of Buddhism and for the Samurai Code.” She placed her hands on Elijah’s shoulders. “I can help you if you will let me.”

He was silent for a few moments as he stared at Ayda, trying to figure her out.

“Okay, but first tell me about what you took from the library in Baghdad, the piece of parchment my father wants so badly.” Elijah couldn’t take his eyes off her; even here, far from civilization, and in the midst of his chaos, her beauty confounded him. He leaned forward to kiss her; she closed her eyes as their lips touched, but then turned her head and pushed him away.

“We can’t do that; it’s not why we are here. And I’m sorry, Elijah, but I cannot tell you about the library, either.” She took a deep breath after she spoke; her voice was stern but apologetic. Her eyes shifted to her feet as she dropped her head slightly.

“I don’t even know what you are; why would I trust you?” he asked as he tipped his head to look into her eyes. He hoped to see something that would give her away, but she was well guarded.

Ayda stared at the ground for a moment longer and then lifted her face to look at him. “Because I’ve only ever tried to help you.”

Chapter 66

“The katana is
a weapon of control. Once you can control the katana and master the
katas
, you will be able to master your emotions.” Ayda slowly unwrapped the silk from around her blade and handed it to Elijah.

She didn’t know why, but she was determined to help him. She was convinced he was special, important somehow. She worked with him every day, and every day they grew closer. Elijah spent years with her among the snowy mountain peaks, where they found solace in each other’s company and distance from worldly cares.

His time was spent meditating and mastering control and discipline through the precise and intentional movements of the
katas
. Nothing was free or spontaneous; his hard-handed teacher had an ever-watchful eye that directed his every move. Every lunge, every slice, every step was choreographed as if he were the star in some lonely ballet.

“Slow down!” Ayda screamed. Elijah knew what was coming next, the fierce lash of a carefully braided leather training whip.

He had spent his life unleashing the rage he held just slightly beneath his skin; he believed it had kept him alive. “Why am I doing this? I am not going to need to move slowly when I kill my father,” he moaned under his breath at the sting of the whip.

“I have told you countless times, Elijah, it is not your speed, or your strength, or your skill that are lacking; it is your discipline. Performing the
katas
will fill that void, giving you the control you need.” She snapped the whip once more; Elijah glared at her for a moment, huffed, and then resumed dancing with his sword.

Eventually, he discovered a sort of peace in the hollowness of his mind as he sat motionless on that snowy mountain ridge for months at a time, or as he spent days practicing his
katas
. However, it was not a lasting peace; it faded every time he left that comfortable vacuum. As the years passed and Ayda’s guard slowly fell, he began to notice hope fading from her eyes. Every time he looked at this woman he cared for so deeply he saw a growing disappointment and sense of failure.

“I’m not making any progress.” Elijah spoke over the table as they ate dinner. “Even now, all I can think about is my father and my family, about revenge.” Elijah rubbed his forehead.

“I know, and until you can find a way to forget about revenge, forget about yourself, your brother, and your father, you have no hope. You cannot win this battle with hate in your heart.” Ayda rose from her chair. “I’m going to lie down,” she said as she turned toward her bedroom. As she was turning, Elijah caught her hand and pulled her back.

“Please do not blame yourself. In more than a lifetime, no one has been so kind to me. To see the possibility of hope when it’s not there is a beautiful thing,” he said, gazing into her eyes. As he pulled her closer, he brushed her hair behind her shoulder and then placed his hands on each side of her waist. “My scars are just too deep; you’ve done everything you can do.” Elijah held her tight and pressed her tearing eyes against his shoulder.

“I love you, and I always will,” he whispered as he gently pushed her back and cradled her soft face in his hands. He looked into her eyes for a few seconds before leaning forward and kissing her. Then he slowly pulled the tie around her waist to loosen her robe. Ayda held his wrist for a moment and then dropped her hands.

Elijah continued pulling the tie until her robe fell to the ground. She was as exquisite on the outside as she was the inside. Elijah continued to kiss her as he walked her into her bedroom and removed his own robe. As he laid her down, the two became as entwined and inseparable as the Earth and the Sun, as the mind and the body. She was truly a magnificent creature.

Late that night Elijah crept out of her room. He finally had something to live for besides revenge, something worth living for. His mind was at ease as he began to dress himself, and he imagined a possible new future, a long life in the mountains, with Ayda. After dressing, Elijah reached for the lonely necklace lying on the table, the last article of his peasant vesture. As he examined his mother’s necklace and remembered his vow, he realized that his hopes for a life beyond war and revenge were no more than fantasies. All of his grief and hate came flooding back as he donned the necklace he had removed from his mother’s mutilated corpse all those years ago.

For the next few hours he sat at the table, considering what could be and what should be. As he stroked the braided leather, he had tied around his small
kopis
, the only thing Ayda had been able to retrieve for him, he knew; he could never be good for anyone or anything until he had exacted the vengeance that might mend his crippled soul. He looked at the bracelet hanging from his wrist and thought about Sara. For a moment, pangs of guilt worked at eroding his sanity, guilt for his affection for Ayda, as if it in some way betrayed Sara’s memory.

It had been lifetimes since she died, but he still loved her fiercely. He wondered if she would feel the same; if she would even recognize the man he had become. She had made him promise to find his princess. He imagined there would never be another more special than Ayda. Still, all the pain he had endured and inflicted had changed him at his core, and if he had to choose between Ayda and his vengeance, he knew what his choice would be. He stroked the braided leather around his
kopis
one last time to remind himself of who he was. He could never deserve her.