Dante’s Immortality – Chapter 75

The sun was beginning to set, and he was actually somewhat thankful. He had spent the entire day wandering the streets of Desas, and as a result, been flooded by an overwhelming sense of loneliness.

It was something he hadn’t expected. If anything, he would have thought that some space from Olivia and Melisandre would have been pleasant. But something about wandering the streets of Desas, alone, just brought back bitter feelings from the time he spent in Alazel.

It raised one big question. What would he do when Victoria was done with him?

It was inevitable. Victoria had said it herself, she was only helping him because someone else had asked her to do so. When she was done with him, they would likely never see each other again. And he would be alone again.

No Melisandre, no Olivia, and no Victoria.

It wasn’t as though he didn’t have any goals that he could occupy himself with. There were several. Cross the Chaos region for example. Or find out what an archaic was. He had even resolved himself to do something about the Calmans, but honestly, the Calmans were his last priority.

Still, none of those would help with his first issue. His day alone allowed him to think about his future, and like always, it seemed bleak.

Dante walked into their inn, and was surprised to see that Melisandre was waiting for him in the main room. She was dressed casually, too casual to be seen outside by her standards. It was something he was thankful for, he had been dreading what his ‘trust training’ might be, but not going out was definitely preferable.

“I’m glad to see that you are on time. Let’s go. We will conduct your training in your room.” Melisandre spun on her heels and headed up the stairway.

Letting out a sigh, Dante followed her up. As they climbed the stairs, his mind began to wander over what they would be able to accomplish in his room. The short answer, nothing good. At least not with someone as terrifying as Melisandre.

They stepped into his room and Melisandre motioned toward his bed. “Lay down.”

Dante looked at the Melisandre, then the bed, then back at Melisandre. “No.”

He tried to keep the exasperation out of his tone, but some of it slipped out. There was no way he was going to end up charmed like Warlord Auron, or lose his world essence. No matter how beautiful Melisandre was.

Melisandre’s eyes narrowed. “I’ve had a very long day. Lay down.”

Dante unconsciously gulped. That coldness from the night before was creeping back into her voice. He looked at the bed again, then gave Melisandre a pleading glance – which was ignored – and laid down.

Dante close his eyes, mentally preparing himself for what was about to come.

It was several seconds later before Melisandre spoke. “I suppose I should start by apologizing for last night. I expected you to quickly pass out, which would have made the strain on your mind minimal.”

His eyes flicked open in surprise, and he saw that Melisandre had pulled a chair up to the side of the bed. She even had a notepad and writing utensil. Her expression was genuine, but after hearing about the headaches the other’s received, he didn’t know what Melisandre was talking about. He had ended up relatively fine, but then again, that was likely due to the help of his glove. “It’s not a big deal. I did have a question about last night though.”

Melisandre seemed slightly interested by his question. “Oh?”

“I saw Warlord Auron resist your charm. I didn’t think that it would be possible, based on what you said about the person falling severely in love.”

Melisandre seemed to think what he said over. “It’s somewhat hard to explain. As you said, charming someone will make them fall in love, but they won’t lose all of their reason. When Auron was choosing whether or not to kill Ethan, his reason conflicted too strongly with my charm, and he began to notice it. It’s happened a few times in the past. Usually, if I don’t stop them, they lose their sanity.”

That was frightening. “Then what about Olivia’s charmed?” He was hesitant to ask, but what happened to Olivia made almost zero sense to him.

Melisandre let out a sigh and shrugged. “Nothing as dramatic. The fool just didn’t keep his mouth shut. Apparently, he talked about her to whoever would listen.”

“Then how did… that happen?”

“People found out where they were going, and they thought it would be fun to watch. Her charmed actually tried to fight them after Olivia ran off.”

“And you killed them all?”

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Melisandre’s voice immediately went cold. “Of course.”

He wasn’t sure how he felt about Melisandre killing them. They definitely deserved to have some sort of punishment for how they traumatized Olivia, but killing them all? It seemed far too excessive. It was more of an act of mischief rather than malice.

Then again, in the face of overwhelming power, moralities didn’t really come into play. And Melisandre was the embodiment of overwhelming power. She could kill anyone on a whim, and no one would be able to stop her.

“Are you ready to begin?”

He wasn’t really sure what they were doing. He was staring up at the ceiling as Melisandre sat next to him in a chair. Still, he nodded.

“Alright. Victoria told me that you have issues knowing who to trust. Your issues with trust originated from your past relationships, correct?”

Again, Dante nodded, this time hesitantly.

“We will start at the beginning. Tell me about the first relationships that you had growing up, try not to leave anything out.”

Dante glanced at Melisandre. She stared back, her writing utensil and notepad were held at the ready, as if she was going to take down every detail that he told her. “How is this training?”

“As people, we are a culmination of our experiences. Before I can help you, I need to understand who you are, and more importantly, why you are.”

“I’d rather not.”

“Just relax. What you tell me won’t leave this room.”

“So my training on trusting people is going to start with blind trust?”

Dante didn’t look away from the ceiling, but he could swear that he could feel Melisandre’s glare digging into him.

“It doesn’t need to be blind trust. I could threaten you instead.” Again, her voice grew slightly colder. He missed the Melisandre that he had first met with Victoria. She seemed so kind… and not deadly.

“There weren’t any.”

“Come again?”

“I didn’t have any relationships growing up.” For some reason, the ceiling had suddenly become far more comforting. He couldn’t even bare the thought of looking at Melisandre. He almost felt guilty. Like she would think his isolation was his fault, or there was something wrong with him.

There was a pause of silence, then he heard the scratching sound of Melisandre writing on her notepad. “Who took care of you when you were young?”

He let out a sigh. “I’m not sure.”

Melisandre didn’t write anything. “Explain.”

“My first memories are hazy. I don’t remember much. I remember being hungry. Starving actually. I dug through any pile of trash I could find for food that wasn’t rotten, but in the end, I couldn’t find anything. I remember that by the time I ate it, I was so hungry that the rotten food actually tasted good.” Dante continued to look at the ceiling. Digging up his buried memories was painful. It was almost like reliving them a second time, but at the same time, it was almost soothing. It felt good to release the things he had left repressed for so long, and share them with another person.

“How old were you?”

“I don’t know. Young. Six, maybe seven or eight. Maybe younger. I didn’t count the years back then.”

“No one ever helped you?”

“No.” His answers began coming out almost monotone. He had almost forgotten Melisandre’s presence. He was too lost in the past.

“Where did you stay?”

“In dark alleys. Sometimes on a roof if I had the strength to pull myself up, but that was rare.”

“Were there any others living like you where you grew up?”

“No. They stayed in the orphanage.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“The orphanage was run by the church, I wasn’t allowed.”

Melisandre took a deep breath and it broke him out of the trance. The scratching sound of her writing continued, but he didn’t look over.

“Let’s move on. When was your first actual relationship?”

“When I was a bit older than fourteen.”

“Fourteen? How old are you?” There was some surprise in her voice.

“I think I am fifteen. I got my Classifications during the last Day of Holy Bestowal.”

Melisandre began to write again. “Tell me about it.”

He began to talk about the few days he spent with Edward and Sam. How they had traveled together, and been the first people who really talked to him. Then he told her about how they killed everyone in their party and turned out to be nobles who wanted him to join their house.

“How did that make you feel?”

Dante stared at the ceiling for several seconds before answering. “At first, I was confused. I didn’t trust them, after all, they had just lied to me. But at the same time… I felt special, but in a good way. Desired even. It was the first time I experienced those feelings, and I think I was secretly happy that Edward wanted to recruit me.”

Dante let out a deep breath. “But looking back on it now, I think I see it for what it was. Just another person who wanted to use me. I wasn’t special. Just one of many. A tool to be wielded, then discarded.”

Melisandre continued to write, but she didn’t comment. She didn’t try to bring understanding to his mess of emotions, just let him vent them.

“Next?”

Now fully understanding what Melisandre wanted, he began to talk about Layla and Alexander. How their carriage ride went. Their change in behavior when they discovered that he could be of use to them. How they tried to manipulate him in the academy, how they manipulated those around him. How Layla had enslaved him with a wraith collar.

Melisandre didn’t ask for his feelings on the two of them. His retelling of the events made his feelings quite clear. Given the opportunity, he would kill them.

“Surely there must have been others at the academy that you grew closer to?”

He began to talk about Will, who he had a fleeting alliance with that was somewhat akin to friendship. Of Jaseni and Haden, who died shortly after they were acquainted. Of Archie and Kayla, who weren’t really the people who he thought they were. Finally, he talked about Mia.

He meant to skim over Mia, not wanting to bring her up to Melisandre, but he didn’t. As he began retelling how they became closer over his time at the academy, despite the fact that she was a collared slave, he couldn’t stop. He retold every detail that he could remember from the time they met, until the time Mia died, leaving nothing out. He told Melisandre everything was his fault.

He had never felt so vulnerable in his life, but also comforted. It was the first time he had discussed his emotions with another person. It was something that he always longed for.

When he finished, Melisandre handed him a tissue. At first, he didn’t know why, but then he realized he had been crying. A lot.

“Did you love her?”

He sniffed, trying to stop his crying while he thought about the question. “No. She was my first and only real friend.”

Melisandre didn’t say anything for a few minutes, and the silence seemed to permeate through the room. “After all of that, why would you even want to trust?”

He could feel more tears well up in his eyes and begin to spill over. “I just don’t want to be alone.”

There was almost another minute of silence. “You won’t be.”

Melisandre sat in her chair silently until he eventually cried himself asleep.