Episode Forty Six - Veres Falconer

Chapter Song Suggestion "Astronomy by Jordan Gagne"

*note : all dialogues like so {example} are spoken from the predator's perspective

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THE PAST | Regis

It was late. They entered the camp of the primitives — the Qeathan tribe. He watched a group of children running passed him in a chorus of uncontrollable giggles. They looked happy and carefree — unlike him. A strange feeling penetrated his chest at their unfettered smiles. What was the reason they were able to play so freely? They were around the same age as him but why did they feel different — younger?

He didn't want to think he was envious because Father never neglected or abused him, and he had a hot meal every night. It was close to a year since Father adopted him, and everyday he learned something new. Even his speech and vocabulary skills were improving.

"Father, why have we come here?" he asked in a hushed tone.

"There is a man I wish to see," Father replied. "If my intuition is right, he's the only other unique individual like me."

Regis wasn't sure what Father meant. "Who is he, Father?"

"The Qeathan Chief."

Before he could further satisfy his curiosity, a group of men emerged from one of the largest tents. He surmised the middle one with the dark scowl was the Chief. While Father communicated with them in the Qeathan tongue, something in his peripheral vision caught his eye. Head snapping to the right, he saw an older girl creeping in the shadows with a bag over her shoulder. There was a sense of vigilance in her steps and body language.

At one point he believed their eyes met. The moment he blinked; she was gone. He wondered who she was, and what she was doing, only remembering a glimpse of red by the firelight.

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PRESENT DAY

Koga had never seen anything more sickening than the Araneida queen's nest hovering above them. It spanned the entire forest, like a canvas roof over their heads. Nesting inside a silken white cocoon ball was the largest Araneida with a round, bulbous body resembling a ripe fruit about to burst. "What the fuck are those yellow pouches all over its body?"

"Those are egg sacs. She's breeding," Anaelle remarked faintly.

Koga made a disgusted face. "They look like pimples. How do we kill it? Can I just slice it up?"

"We'll need to lure her out of the nest. We can't risk destroying the forest but, I'm not above destroying her home." Anaelle thrashed the woven strands with her whip, the violent movement sending a small shower of Araneidas down upon them.

Koga immediately pounced, not giving them a chance to strike while Anaelle ambushed the queen's cocoon. She smiled viciously when the four-eyed female Araneida hissed, dropping on all eight legs to face her opponent. The trunk trembled with the force of her heavy torso.

Anaelle amplified her laser whip's intensity. "Now it's just you and me, Your Majesty."

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Eira expected the antagonist's lair to be dark and sinister, maybe even see a cadaver or two lying around. This beautiful, soothing greenhouse that looked like a setting from a storybook — wasn't it. Regis held the door open for her. "Please, come in. Father is waiting for you."

Father. It wasn't the first time he used that word. Was he truly Falconer's son? She turned to Xue Long. "Stay here. I'll be right back."

The dragon flattened its ears miserably and whined.

{Not safe. Don't want to be apart from master.}

"It's alright," she assured the protective beast, levelling Regis a hard look. "They won't hurt me, will they?"

Regis was poker-faced. "Of course not. We do not hurt without reason."

Eira remained uncertain. Destroying villages for the sake of their 'cause' was enough to make them look bad. Taking a tentative step through the threshold, she was greeted by a soft jazz music playing from inside – a pleasant, sentimental note that contrasted with the dread in her stomach. Squaring her shoulders, she entered the enemy's lair.

Her boots clicked against the wooden floorboards, her eyes drinking in the rows of books and dried herbs on shelves. Boxes of growing plants lined the sides and creepers dangled from above, creating a natural shade for the worktable scattered with potted plants, tools, and strange coloured liquids. She drew in a deep breath, enticed by the cool, natural air that smelled so…fresh.

Shafts of sunlight spilled through the glass roof, illuminating a manmade pond overwhelmed with large, floating leaves – so wide she could sit on it. Reaching out, she traced a finger across its soft, rubbery texture. Engrossed, she didn't realize someone was watching her from the other side.

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

Eira's head snapped up to see Falconer smiling at her. Without his hat, she was saw him clearly for the first time. Blue-grey eyes regarded her with matching curiosity, his white hair tied back at the nape, and a short beard framed an austere mouth. It was strange how he looked exactly like he did in the photograph, except for his hair colour. Dressed in a simple white shirt with the sleeves rolled to his forearms and brown pants, he looked like an ordinary man.

She cleared her throat, having been caught staring. "Yes, it is. I've never seen a plant like this. What is it called?"

"It's a giant lily pad, quite commonly found in the old era. In case you were wondering, the answer is no. This is how it originally looks. It's not a mutation."

"How is that possible?"

His gaze twinkled mysteriously. "Anything is possible in this new era we live in." He turned and ambled deeper into the greenhouse. "Come and join me for some tea. I'm glad you've decided to come. I've been waiting a long time to finally meet you."

Eira wanted to argue that she didn't have a choice, that Jade and the Ustranaean's life were in their hands. Following him, she realized the music was coming out of a wooden box with a strange instrument attached to it. The instrument was a bronze gold, flaring at the top like a flower. "What is this?" The words left her mouth before she even thought about asking.

Falconer seemed to enjoy her genuine curiosity of his possessions. "That is a gramophone, also known as a record player. It's a device invented in 1877 by a man called Thomas Edison in the old era. It's used for mechanical recording and reproduction of sound."

"How interesting," she murmured, listening intently to the music "You like jazz."

He arched a brow. "You sound surprised."

She shrugged haphazardly. "You strike me as the kind who enjoys classical music."

Falconer supposed that was a fair point. He had been dressed to the nines when they first met. "Do you think all villains listen to Mozart or Chopin?"

Eira visibly tensed, betraying her thoughts.

Instead of being offended, Falconer chuckled. "Rest assured, I am very aware of what you think of me, Eira Ulva. The line between a hero and a villain can be easily blurred depending on who it benefits."

"It's still wrong to take away innocent lives." Changing the subject, she pointed to the rotating disc on the box, observing the needle following the grooves on its hard surface. Eira was well-read to know this was a vinyl record. "Where did you find this?"

"It was my wife's hobby to collect historical artifacts from the old era."

At the mention of his wife, she snapped out of her fascination and turned to see him serving them tea. "Please, have a seat," he invited nonchalantly. "I'm sure you have many questions for me."

His warm and welcoming behaviour unsettled her deeply. It made her even more wary of his intentions. Carefully taking a seat, she watched him sip his tea.

"Delicious," he murmured. "Try it. It's a blend I created from the herbs you see in this greenhouse. And no, it's not poisoned."

Hesitantly, she took a whiff of the fragrant tea, blew on it and sipped. Her eyes rounded at the burst of subtle flavours dancing across her tastebuds. "It's exquisite." She then set the cup down and met the mysterious blue of his eyes. "Tell me, why am I here?"

Falconer sensed the shift in her mood, his smile shadowed. "Because you refused to leave."

Her bewilderment was clear as day. "What are you talking about?"

"I gave you time to consider aligning with me but, it seemed you have made your choice even before we met." He paused menacingly. "That is a little troubling."

She looked at him dully with a flare of temper. "And I fail to understand why you are so determined to have my cooperation."

"Why does a species unite with its own kind and not with others?" he countered smoothly. "Survival, Eira. It is ingrained into our very DNA and we cannot escape from it."

Apprehension skittered down her spine. "Allow me to ask you something. Are you truly Veres Falconer — the missing Commander-in-Chief of Ataxia's research division?"

"Yes but, that was a long time ago. That title destroyed my life and now, I'm going to destroy it."

His solemn vow gave her goosebumps. "Why are you doing this?" she demanded. "I have seen the damage you've done, and I refuse to be involved in meaningless murders. Your cause does not justify you the right to kill."

"You're not wrong." He took another effortless sip. "I understand the weight of morality, but you see, I simply don't care. I feel absolutely nothing for the lives I destroy. I am numb inside and people mean nothing to me, just like how I – my wife – meant nothing to them."

"What you're doing is no different than what has been done to you," she disputed fiercely. "Is this your idea of revenge against the Lieutenant General?"

Falconer paused.

"Yes, I know about your wife's death. Was the Lieutenant General truly responsible for it?" she pressed, knowing there's no backing out now. "You were willing to provide me answers, and now I am asking."

"I suppose you have the right to know," he murmured with a hint of seriousness. "Yes, Novak Levente left my wife and her crew for dead when Ataxia received the distress signal from her expedition submarine. They were attacked by a baskeray predator and drowned to their deaths. My pregnant wife took her last breath in a cold, watery grave — alone." His voice grew distant and sorrowful. "In that dark, dark place. The memory of it still haunts me."

Eira's eyes smarted, realizing she was horrifically close to tears. The pain in his words – so raw, and fresh – burrowed in her heart and soul. Falconer had love – still loved – his dead wife very much. "I'm sorry to hear that."

A sad, meaningless smile tugged his lips. "I can't forget, and I most absolutely cannot forgive." The hard vengeance in his tone made her feel uneasy. "Levente will pay with more than his life. I will wipe out his empire and make him watch everything he ever built gets destroyed by his own ambition." A brutal laugh. "And after that, I will tear him from limb to limb and put him back together before I do it all over again."

Eira shuddered in distaste. Falconer wore the skin of a cultured gentleman, hiding a madman underneath. She wanted to say he was wrong but, she could also sympathize. If she ever lost Lars in the same way Falconer had lost his wife…, would she react the same way? Would she dedicate the rest of her life planning an elaborate revenge scheme?

She was young when she lost her parents, and her thirst for revenge altered the course of her life. Her love for Lars went much deeper and she couldn't imagine living without him.

"You understand, don't you?" There was a glimmer of recognition in his eyes as if he was privy to her deepest thoughts. "I've helped you to fulfil your revenge and now, it's your turn to help me."

Eira wasn't fooled. She wasn't going to become his puppet just because Regis told her where to find the clawtail. "It seems you're misunderstanding something. I neither agreed to join you or begged you to tell me where the clawtail was. You sent Regis to me of your own volition. It was your mistake for assuming I would fall into your plans."

"Can you honestly tell me that you feel an ounce of loyalty for an organization that abducted and subjected you to years of mental and physical torture?" Falconer scoffed. "I know what Levente's doing in that depraved laboratory of his. It used to belong to me. I was the one who perfected the Cell II serum, and he thinks he can outsmart me? He will never be able to think like me."

"There's something I've been curious about. Regis called me a peculiar and he claimed he is the embodiment of Cell III. Can you explain that to me?"

"Peculiar is the name I gave to my adorable subordinates. We are peculiar because there is a strand of DNA in our bodies that make us compatible with Cell in general. Regis tells me that you can communicate with predators, is that true?"

She gave a reluctant nod.

"And you believe you've developed it after receiving the Cell II serum?"

Another nod.

"Then it makes you a peculiar. Only people like us have secondary abilities connecting us to the predators who are the source of our enhanced abilities."

"How many others like Regis are there?"

"There's no one else. Regis is my greatest success in life." Pride evident in his tone. Falconer's gaze darted to a spot over her shoulder. "It seems your predator is very concerned about you."

Twisting in her seat, Eira found Xue Long peering at them from outside the glasshouse. Worried, elliptical eyes burned a hole into her. {Master, not hurt?}

Xue Long's concern brought a smile to her lips. She signalled the dragon, telling her she was fine.

"It's good to see that you have a strong bond with your predator," Falconer mused. "Contrary to popular belief, not all predators are bad. They are loyal companions who would never betray you."

"Is that why you manipulate them into doing your dirty work?" She threw out sarcastically. "We found your symbols branded onto their flesh. What does it mean?"

Falconer wasn't surprised she had found them. "It's a representation of an old man's lost hopes and dreams — a grave for my wife and unborn child. It's my vow to them."

Realization dawned upon her. The symbol was a tombstone grave. "But why mark those predators?"

"Would you believe me if I said they swore their loyalty to me?"

"That implies a level of communication and trust. Do you have the same powers I do?"

"Not exactly. My powers vary from yours," he said dismissively. Eira knew he wouldn't divulge his powers so easily. "I have my ways."

"You don't need me," she stated staunchly. "I will not fight for your cause no matter what you say. My place isn't with you, and I do not wish to risk my life." The fact that she might be pregnant lingered in the back of her mind. "You already have your own army of predators and soldiers. I am not special."

"Oh, but you are," Falconer disagreed. "Your blood is special."

Eira forced herself not to react. Perhaps he meant something other than her healing ability.

"Did you honestly think I sent you to the clawtail without a purpose?" His expression was smug. "I had years to meet you Eira, but that day was a fifty-fifty chance you would end up dead or you would inherit the clawtail's regenerating ability. Apparently, you proved to me that a warrior's blood does run in your veins."

"I don't understand..." Her voice a little sluggish. "How do you know so much?" Hold up. Why did she feel strange and weightless — her fingers and toes were numb. She attempted to stand only to slump back into the chair. Panic gripped her. "What have — you done?"

"I've spent my whole life researching the predators we seek to exterminate, and I never stopped." Falconer gestured to someone in the corner and a shadow peeled off the wall. It was Regis.

"When did you—" Her gaze turned bleary.

"I'm afraid you cannot leave, Eira," Falconer cut her off, dropping his civil act. "It's best for you to sleep and wait it out. Allow me to show you a dream. It might help to change your mind."

{Master!}

A raging dragon's roar broke the windows followed by a long, painful whine.

"Xue Long! Stop it, don't hurt her!" Eira exclaimed to no one in particular, feeling her predator's fear and pain. She didn't understand what was happening. Her body refused to move, and her eyes were like dead weights.

Regis materialized before her, palming her lids, and plunging her into darkness. "Sleep, Eira. When you wake up, it's going to be a new day."