Highlander: Immortal Lives - Page 16

**Ginevra** · 09-12-2008, 06:19 AM

Léana smirked at his half-awake state.

"I'll call you with a time tomorrow. Goodnight."

"Maybe I should have just waited til tomorrow, I don't know if he'll remember that I called him in the morning." Léana thought out loud. "So... when are you leaving, Matthias?"

**Ristaron** · 09-12-2008, 02:32 PM

"As soon as Karreigh-Lynn arrives", Matthias said, setting down a bag he had hastily packed. One glance at Léana's face told Matthias that she was still apprehensive at the impalpable notion of him going up against Xoros. Summoning all his acting experience, he hid his own, similar feelings. Mentally shaking away the thought, he put the situation to himself rationally. He had fought older opponents countless times in the course of his life, and had been a thousand years younger when Xoros beat him. He was a lot better now; better, he was sure, than Kuro Arai had been, gifted though he was. But had he kept up with Xoros?

A sudden thought occurred to him, and Matthias could have thrown himself off a cliff at his stupidity. Of all the times he had looked into Xoros, he had never inquired with his oldest friend, someone who'd been around during the glory days of ancient Babylon.
"I have to make a phone call", Matthias said suddenly, and vanished into the other room to use the other phone.

**

"Surrey Antiques", yawned Elead, wiping the sleep from his eyes as he pressed the receiver of his bedside phone to his ear.
"It's Matthias... I need your help".
Instantly, the old immortal was awake.
"Matthias... what's wrong?"
"I've just been contacted by someone I met in the 8th century", Matthias began, "a man named Xoros. He killed Kuro Arai and told me that we'd fight again in a thousand years".
"He's a little late, what with it being the 21st century", Elead remarked.
"His timing is irrelevant", Matthias retorted, not amused by the cynical older immortal's sense of humour. "I was wondering if you knew anything about him that might help me beat him".

Standing up from his warm bed, Elead crossed his room above his shop in his boxers and closed his window to only be slightly open. Sitting in a wicker chair beside the window, he rubbed his angular face with a calloused palm.
"As far as I know", Elead said finally, "the man's only weakness is his pride. He's a master swordsman, Matthias, I'm lucky to have escaped my fight with him in ancient Persia with my head on my shoulders. I haven't seen him in over two thousand years, though I've heard of his exploits throughout the centuries. Our friend, Kuro Arai, wasn't the only swordmaster to fall to him. From the top of my head I can remember six other, equally skilled, immortals who have fallen to him over the past fifteen hundred years".
A long silence followed before Elead spoke again.
"I'm not going to lie to you, Matthias", he said, "you are one of the best fighters I've seen. You're determined, quick-thinking, and you never make the same mistake twice. Xoros, on the other hand, fights with hate and strength beyond anything I've ever seen. He has absorbed the talents of some of the greatest fighters in history, their techniques, their essences. I don't know if you can beat him; I don't know if anyone can beat him".

Another period of contemplative silence followed, finally broken again, only this time by Matthias.
"Nobody's unbeatable", he said with the quiet conviction that so defined him.
"I hope you're right", Elead said. "I hope you're ready".

**

The gentle rocking of the carriage finally subsided as the train pulled into the Bristol station. Shouldering her hastily packed traveling bag, Karreigh-Lynn checked that her 11th century arming sword was secure and started for the exit. She had to admire the distance the railway system had come over the past hundred and fifty years. Since the first Victorian trains with their hard leather seats and rickety progress, the modern locomotives were clean, friendly, and punctual.
Stepping out onto the terminal, Karreigh-Lynn flicked open her cell phone and dialed her Samnite friend's home number.

"Good morning, old timer", she greeted, trying not to allow the situation to become tense. "I just arrived, I caught the first train. I'll be at your quaint little terrace in time for brunch. Have the table set for me".

**Ginevra** · 09-14-2008, 06:57 PM

Léana wondered how long that would be, and tried not to stare at Matthias, thinking about how he was here in front of her, fine, but he might leave tomorrow and never come back. Léana couldn't help it, she just watched him. She agreed with why he was going now, it was just a surreal feeling.

Léana didn't necessarily think that Matthias was going to lose, she didn't even know Xoros, she just didn't like how close of a match it seemed to be. In the few short days it'd been since she met him, she'd grown to like him, half of her arguing with him was to get his input. She blinked when Matthias suddenly had to go make a phone call, but shrugged it off.

Pulling her Schiavona out of the black bag, Léana unsheathed it, sitting on the barstool facing away from the counter. She ran her finger over the blade, cutting it, and turned it over to watched it heal. I could do this a hundred times and I wouldn't scar... Léana repeated it over again, until she was in a daze, not noticing much else around her. Her hand became slightly numb as she repeated it, but she hardly noticed, nor did she notice when Matthias returned from his phone call.

**Ristaron** · 09-15-2008, 09:08 PM

"Try not to get blood everywhere", Matthias cautioned as he crossed to the fridge to withdraw a beer. "You're not about to die of blood-loss, but I'd certainly hate to have to mop up a few pints of A-positive in the morning". Without bothering with a bottle-opener, the Samnite removed the sealed cap with his bare hands and tossed it into the sink.
"Besides", he continued after taking a long draught, "the more you blunt the edge with your finger, the harder you'll have to work to sharpen it again". Taking another draught, Matthias looked over the 400-year-old sword with a hint of nostalgia.

Siena, 1744 A.D.
The Tuscan air of Siena was just as it had been the last time he had been there, and Matthias marveled at the timelessness of the city. One hundred and fifty years had passed, and yet, if her were to close his eyes, he would have no time finding his way from the East gate to his old home off the plaza. Raising his arm once again at a passing hansom, the immortal breathed a sigh of relief when this one actually stopped for him. Quickly leaping inside, Matthias had hardly set his bags on the seat beside him when the driver impatiently demanded his destination. Drawing the telegram from his tweed-vest pocket, Matthias quickly found the address he sought. Relaying the information to the driver, Matthias settled back into his seat, only to brace himself against the walls of the carriage as the man proceeded to spur the horses down the cobble-stone streets at the speed of a lunatic.
Has this whole city gone mad? Matthias asked himself incredulously, finding that he was reconsidering his earlier opinion on the unvarying nature of the city. After what felt like the longest hansom ride of his long life, Matthias found that the carriage had stopped before an imposing building of Visconti architecture. A sign in elegant Italian script indicated that it was the hospital his presence had been requested at.
Paying the hansom driver the exorbitant toll, Matthias grudgingly stepped out. His feet were barely out of the carriage before it sped off again, splashing a nearby puddle and causing the immortal to quickly jump aside to avoid being soaked. He cursed loudly as his maneuver made him bump into another pedestrian.
"Watch where you're going!" the man loudly threatened. Not in the mood to deal with anymore of the city and instead get to the reason of his long trek, Matthias ignored the man and started for the oak doors of the hospital. A strong hand on his shoulder gave him pause.
"I'll have your apology!" screamed the man Matthias had inadvertently nudged. With a glance at the offending limb, the Samnite glared directly into the man's eyes.
"If you wish to keep that hand", Matthias threatened in perfect Italian, "you will remove it from my shoulder this instant". Enraged, the man wound up to punch the Samnite, but his fist only found empty air. The next moment he himself was in the air, and landing with a crash on the pavement. A final punch to his face knocked the man out, interrupting his attempt to get back to his feet to pursue the other.
"This case had better be worth it", Matthias grumbled, shaking his fist and picking up his bag.

The interior of the hospital was as Spartan as the exterior, with the only obvious indulgence being the elaborate stained-glass windows. Nurses bustled about, generally ignoring his attempts to learn where he could find his sender. Finally, he managed to grab a nurse who had just finished changing the bed for another patient.

"My name is Mattheu de Lafoire", he introduced, "I was called here from my practice in France by a Dr. Poli". The words had hardly escaped Matthias' mouth when the nurse dropped the soiled laundry and clutched his sleeve.
"Thank God!" she exclaimed and set off hurriedly, drawing him by the sleeve of his coat.
"We've been awaiting your arrival for several days", she explained as they walked. Turning a sharp corner, the two continued along a long corridor with solid doors at regular intervals. After a few steps, Matthias slowed his pace as he felt the telltale buzzing sensation that alerted him of another immortal's presence.
"Hurry, signor", the nurse begged as Matthias' attention returned to his surroundings. His distraction hadn't been completely wasteful, however, for he had used the opportunity to test out a relatively new theory of his. The quickening was a medical mystery, as far as he could tell. But, where science failed, he believed he had come upon a breakthrough. Every time he felt another immortal's presence, there had to be an interaction between the quickenings. As the quickening grew more powerful with the age and victories of the immortal, it was reasonable to assume that the fallen contributed in some way to the immortal's quickening. Matthias stipulated that, by closely examining the emotions that washed through him when he first felt another immortal, he could gauge the other's disposition. Dark emotions would indicate that the other was a steadfast defender of life; bright emotions would indicate a malignant individual who preys on the weak. The quickening that he had sensed had seemed at once on the dark side of neutral and, curiously, somewhat haphazard.

By now the nurse was tugging violently on his sleeve, and the Samnite continued along behind her until she came to the fifth door and threw it open.
"Clarissa!" the nurse called as they entered, "your friend from France has arrived".
Matthias' face brightened as he recognized the individual dressed, unexpectedly, in the pastels of a hospital employee. Iptacens gave a quick smile back before turning to the patient to whom she had been attending. Matthias did a double-take at who it was.
"Is that-?" he began.
"Alfhorn", Iptacens confirmed, looking to make sure that the nurse had left before using the patient's real name.
"What's happened to him?" Matthias asked, sitting on the edge of the bed and looking into the other immortal's vacant eyes.
"He's been catatonic for two weeks", the Thracian explained, "ever since he took Clarus Marcellus' head. I sent for you to see if you had ever seen something like this". Passing a finger back and forth before Alfhorn's gray eyes, Matthias frowned.
"I've seen Catatonia hundreds of times", he said, "but never in one of us... we're immune to disease. This has to be psychological, which means his last quickening wasn't a coincidence, it had to be related". Scratching his temple, Matthias stood up again.
"Clarus Marcellus couldn't have been an easy kill, even for Alfhorn. Then again, Alfhorn had never met Clarus before, to my knowledge". Matthias began pacing the room.
"Was Alfhorn involved with anyone? Were there other bodies discovered that night?"
"As a matter of fact", Iptacens said, "a young woman was found, stabbed, in the river. Alfhorn was found in the park near the riverside a mile or so upstream. I thought that maybe Alfhorn was on patrol that night -- he's been working for the guard -- and had come after hearing the screaming. The young woman was the daughter of a noble who supposedly owed Clarus an enormous sum of money". With a shake of her head, Iptacens punched her palm in frustration. "Why did I not put those pieces together before?"
"It doesn't matter", Matthias dismissed, "he needs to be exposed to his life, he needs to remember. Keeping him in here won't help him, even if he's here for a century".
"I have his sword here", Iptacens immediately said. Going to the wardrobe on the other side of the room, she delicately removed a masterwork Venetian schiavona.
"When did he get that?" Matthias inquired, recalling the arming sword he had provided when Alfhorn had graduated Matthias' tutelage some nine hundred years earlier.
"About ten years ago, when serving in the Venetian Guard", Iptacens informed. Matthias lifted one of Alfhorn's hands as the Thracian slid the leather-bound hilt into the man's grip. As one would expect with a thousand years of swordfighting, Alfhorn immediately gripped the hilt and jerked to life.

Surprised at his situation, the man pushed Matthias away with a holler of fear and thrust out with his sword. The blade slid between Iptacens' ribs, puncturing her lung. As she fell off the sword, Matthias was there, wrestling the sword from his grip.
"Alfhorn!" he shouted. The call of his name sobered him, and he turned his eyes to his former teacher.
"Matthias?" he said in a trembling voice. Then, his shoulders heaved as sobs began wracking his body.
"I killed her!" he cried, sinking his head into the Samnite's shoulder.
"She'll be fine", Matthias consoled, trying to dispel the confusion. "Iptacens will heal, she'll be up in a few minutes".
"Not her!" Alfhorn sobbed, "Althea!"
The pieces fell together in Matthias' head.
"The noble woman?" he silently asked rhetorically. Alfhorn let out a painful moan. Then, suddenly, he backed up.
"I can't go on", he sobbed, lifting his sword. Matthias instinctively tensed up, ready for a confused attack. A moment later, he stood in shock as Alfhorn's sword fell to the floor and his body fell in a heap.

Iptacens woke to find Matthias breathing heavily, leaning against a pock-marked wall. The miniscule tremors in his hands, however, was the symptom that made her sit up and search for Alfhorn. The Thracian's breath caught in her throat when she saw the bloody mess.
"He killed himself", Matthias said. His tone was laced with sorrow and the slight trembling that always followed a quickening. Iptacens was about to speak up when a horde of nurses, having heard the destructive storm that accompanied an immortal's death, barged into the room.

**

"I don't want that", Matthias said as he and Iptacens stood at the street-side outside the hospital. The Thracian held it further out, insisting that he take the sword.
"He would have wanted you to have it", Iptacens said, "you were his first teacher, he owed you his life".
"He gave me his life", Matthias reminded her darkly.
"You and I both know that we live by the sword", Iptacens pressed, "he took enormous pride in this sword, what it represented, saying that he only earned it because of what you taught him. Don't dishonour him by not accepting it".
Slowly, Matthias reached out and took the weapon.
"I love you", Iptacens said, leaning forward and kissing his cheek.
"I love you, too", Matthias whispered back before he turned to take a hansom back to the East Gate.

**Ginevra** · 09-16-2008, 02:55 PM

Léana blinked, and stopped fidgeting with the sword and put it away, looking down and noticing a small bit of blood that had dripped down, and immediately got up and cleaned it up. "Sorry, I don't know why I was even doing that... just fidgeting, I guess."

Coming back over to her seat and setting the sword in her lap, Léana flexed her fingers, which had gone slighlty numb, sending blood back to them. She looked over at Matthias, whom she thought was staring at her until she realized he was looking at the sword. "So, are you going to tell me how you knew?" She asked, notcing that he had called out her blood type. "I don't see how you could deduce that unless they smell different or something."

**Ristaron** · 09-16-2008, 10:17 PM

"That one", Matthias remarked, "was mostly a freebie. Statistically, most people in Ireland are blood type A-positive or O-positive. Since you have been traveling frequently over the past year and can't have kept up a good red meat diet, yet you seem to have enough energy to carry on a fight with a better opponent like Wade. That can only mean that your blood binds better to protein, which would indicate blood type A. Not the surest grounding for an assumption, but when you've been a doctor off-and-on for several hundred years you develop a sort of skill for weighing the odds. Besides, I was right".

Leaning back against the door frame leading into the dining room, Matthias took another long draught of his beer.
"I'm sorry", he said suddenly. Lifting his face a little, his brown eyes met Léana's. Her confused expression prompted his explanation.
"I'm sorry that I have to leave you like this", Matthias elaborated. "Win or lose, I'm still hampering your learning process, which you need if you are going to survive. Karreigh-Lynn is highly capable in her own right, but she hasn't examined your strengths and decided where you need to improve. It will be like starting over with her. And, if I don't come back..."
The Samnite drained the last of his beer and dropped the bottle in the recycling bin.
"I suppose that's how it will be", he admitted. "I'm going to bed, I'll see you in the morning".

**Ginevra** · 09-18-2008, 07:23 PM

Léana smiled at his explanation, it was kind of fun listening to him rattle it off. "Aha, of course," she replied with slight humor.

Matthias' expression changed and he suddenly apologized. She looked at him questioningly, to which he replied by elaborating. Léana blinked, he was still thinking about things like that at such a time?

"...and if I don't come back..."

Léana shook her head as he told her was going to bed she got up and gave his shoulder a soft squeeze. "Don't worry about me, worse things have happened, and Wade can help her out. As much as I debated with you about you going, I've never seen anyone as quick as you, either in a fight or with that crazy deducing mind of yours. You just worry about what you've got to do, and get as much sleep as you can." She smiled as she finshed speaking as to try and lift his spirits.

**Ristaron** · 10-14-2008, 06:53 PM

Matthias patted the hand with which Léana had squeezed his shoulder and chuckled.
"I'm quick, to be sure", he conceded, "but just wait until you meet some of my old friends. Iptacens may as well be a blur when she moves, and Karim could deduce circles around me". With that, Matthias started back for his room, Kuro Arai's tachi still in his grasp. It was some time before he fell asleep, and in the morning, awakened by the ringing of the phone, Matthias wasn't certain that he had slept deeply enough to have dreamed.

"Hello?" he answered groggily.
"Morning, old timer", came the chipper greeting. Matthias scowled at the receiver, then realized that the disturbing undertone he had detected was the slight trace of fear Karreigh-Lynn hadn't been able to erase from her voice. Her further reference to brunch spurred the Samnite to twist his head to see the time display on his alarm clock. He silently cursed to see that it was already after 10:00.
"Hurry up", he replied sarcastically, "I can't bear the distance between us much longer".

Pushing the covers off, Matthias sat up and stretched. The familiar, relieving crack in his lower back forced a slight chuckle from the Samnite's lips. Twenty-three centuries and it was still cracking in the morning. Just another mystery of immortality; like why his old scars from mortal days remained while new wounds stitched themselves back up in moments without leaving a trace. A twinge of guilt passed through him as he recalled the fate of his late wife, the ultimate tragic irony for their relationship. With a still-heavy heart he accepted the thought, dwelled on it for a moment, and moved on, as he had every morning for the past nine years.
"Sarah", he said softly, "I miss you so much sometimes..."

A pleasant odour drew him back to the present. With another whiff, he arched an eyebrow before remembering that he had a guest to have made the pancakes. With a smirk, he started for the door, deciding that his striped pyjama bottoms and plain t-shirt were as appropriate attire as he was prepared to wear for the time being.

**Ginevra** · 10-14-2008, 09:32 PM

[NEARLY A MONTH LATER... ;-;]

Léana watched Matthias go off to his bedroom. She hoped he would sleep, though she still had the odd desire to just stare at him like it could stop time, and the quickly approaching obstacles would remain in the future. Sighing, she walked into the guest bedroom - she wondered what would become of his things should he not be successful - and laid down on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

Léana ran a hand through her short hair, it still felt so foreign, she had never before had short hair, not since it had grown out after she'd been born. That she couldn't pull it back into a braid drove her crazy. Taking her hand out of it, she just looked at the ceiling, not really seeing it. Not that there was much to see anyway, it was just a ceiling, after all. At some point she fell asleep.

---

The sun peaked over the windowsill, striking Léana directly on the eyelid, which at once made her open her eyes and then slam them closed again with disgust and roll away from the window. Pulling the covers over her head, Léana fell back asleep for a little over a hour before she woke again, a bit more plesantly this time. She laid there, listening for noise, but Matthias was apparently not yet awake. She remembered he was leaving and then sat up with a start. Did he leave?

She ran out into the livingroom and upon not seeing Karreigh-Lynn realized that there would be no reason to leave, and felt silly, blaming it on the delerium of just waking. Walking sheepishly over to the fridge, Léana pulled out the milk and looked through the cabinets, forgetting which one held the cups. She opened one - plates. She opened another - dry food. Wait. She opened it back again, and yes, she had seen pancake mix. Léana grinned.

Grabbing the box she checked around to make sure he had all the ingredients, and syrup. Upon finding all she needed she got to work, after opening three more cabinets to find a mixing bowl and a pan, and two drawers to locate a mixing spoon.

**Ristaron** · 10-14-2008, 10:35 PM

"Pancakes!", Matthias greeted with a tone of pleasant surprise, "I thought we had our fill of them yesterday morning, but I think we can afford to indulge". Grabbing the plate that Léana had just placed the last pancake on, the Samnite went into the dining room and set it at the center of the oak table.
"Hopefully Karreigh-Lynn will get here before we finish them all", Matthias mused as Léana followed with plates for them both; the syrup and the cutlery balanced on the top of the stack. Just as they sat down to the meal, as if the Samnite's words had been prophetic, the sensation of another immortal's presence washed through them, followed shortly by a knock at the door.
"Use your key!" Matthias shouted. The clicking latches of the deadbolt echoed off the hardwood floors from the front of the house.