Chapter Fifty-Six

Ambrose flicked his eye open to regard Vivienne, who stood some ways away from him. The Lady of the Lake stood, hands together, her eyes far away.

“How do people normally do this?”

Her eyes flicked to him, light kindling within as she entered the present moment. From his time hanging from the tree, Ambrose knew that Vivienne had been focusing her awareness elsewhere. Often, she was in that state; sometimes, what appeared to be her physical body wasn’t even present, but within and around the island itself.

He sometimes forgot that Vivienne was a spirit, the spirit of Avalon, and not the person she sometimes looked and sounded like.

“If you refer to your spiritual enhancement, they practice self-reflection.”

Ambrose waved a hand around the small cavern they were in, deep within the island.

“That’s what this place is for then, reflection?”

Vivienne’s lips pressed together.

“It is merely a private place, one of many within the islands depths. The memories you review come from me, and therefore the island itself.”

Ambrose quirked his lips, rubbing the side of his nose as he considered.

“I’m guessing this is because of my hanging?”

“Indeed.”

If it weren’t for the pain of the experience, Ambrose almost would have considered it a cheat code. He had spent the last several hours reviewing his life. Memory after memory, some of them seemingly insignificant. He even reviewed one memory of him eating cereal.

Strangely, it worked. Ambrose did begin to understand himself in a new way. In a way, he had never considered from his time in the special forces to his choices.

“You’re avoiding it.”

Ambrose glanced at Vivienne.

“Avoiding what?”

The Lady of the Lake gave him a gentle smile,

“Sir Knight, you know. You’re avoiding it.”

Ambrose looked away from her.

“Don’t make me re-live it.”

Vivienne raised a hand, and the room began to reverberate with light.

“Your reluctance is precisely why you must.”

The room settled, the light dying away. Ambrose was back in his bedroom. Eric was there, his viper eyes shining with the light of pleasure as he smashed Ambrose in the face with the pistol.

“I don’t want to see this Vivienne.”

Ambrose said, looking away, his fists tightening, face contorting.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

“You must. There is a truth here you must acknowledge.”

His chest grew hot, his jaw clenching as he whirled toward the spirit.

“What truth, Vivienne? The truth of my failure! I already know it! The truth that I am just as responsible for her death as Eric is? Is that what you want me to realize! Because I do! I know it, and as soon as Eric is dealt with and I have my answers from my wayward mother, I’ll deal with myself!”

Vivienne’s face was calm as she weathered his tirade.

Ambrose quivered, his chest puffing up and down.

Noelle sent a jolt of sadness through him.

“There it is. The thought you have had buried all this time.”

Ambrose felt his face slacken, his shoulders slumped.

“What would you have of me? I swore vengeance upon everyone responsible. That means me. If I hadn’t antagonized Eric, none of this would have happened. I am as much to blame as he is.”

Vivienne cocked her head,

“That is illogical. You may have antagonized Eric, yes, but ultimately it was he who chose to inflict deadly violence upon another, a response vastly disproportional to the insult offered him.”

Ambrose shook his head,

“Except I knew how violent he was. I knew the kind of response he could have, and I taunted him anyway. I may as well have been poking a tiger.”

“This is true, but there is a point of information you haven’t considered.”

It was Ambrose’s turn to cock his head.

“Which would be?”

Vivienne gestured at Eric, the memory had frozen, and the psychopath was pointing his gun at Alice’s prone form.

“That he was going to pick this course of action regardless of your ‘poking’ him.”

He crossed his arms,

“How do you figure that?”

Vivienne tapped her cheek,

“It is obvious to me. Eric Delrosa has always considered you competent in delivering violence. The System was about to integrate your world. Your training, efficiency at violence, and determination would make you a force to be reckoned with in the new world that followed.”

Ambrose scrunched his eyebrows together,

“There is no way you can know that.”

Vivienne raised a finger,

“Consider that Eric knew you.”

He blew out a breath,

“Yes, he did. So what?”

Vivienne’s lips curved upward,

“You are a genius regarding destruction, dear Knight, but you are remarkably short-sighted and limited in other areas.”

Nothing was mocking in her tone; to Vivienne, she was merely acknowledging a truth. Ambrose rolled his eyes as he rolled his wrist.

“Make with the explanation, please.”

“Eric Delrosa knew you, Sir Knight. He knew you were happy in your new life with your bride. Do you really believe he thought you would accept his proposal to work for him again? Eric Delrosa is a clear manipulator, an analytical psychopath who uses catspaws and derives pleasure from harming others. He knew what you thought of him.”

Ambrose’s arms fell to his side as his mind drew conclusions that rocked him.

“He wanted me to react the way I did. He engineered it and gave me an excuse to insult him.”

“The light dawns.”

Ambrose rubbed his face.

“Why? Why would he need one?”

Vivienne shrugged,

“Many psychopaths such as Eric have strange rituals, workings of their mind that require certain rituals to be followed. Perhaps he needed the justification to act. Or it is simply that he enjoyed manipulating you. Either way, he clearly pushed you to it.”

Ambrose leaned against the cave wall, processing it.

Vivienne raised another finger,

“I am no expert in understanding human emotions, but you should consider what Alice would wish of you. I doubt that your wife would want you to tear yourself apart over what happened. She would not blame you; thus, you should not blame yourself.”

He ran a hand through his hair,

“Easier said than done.”

“Indeed. Whether you do or do not holds little relevance to me. The point of this is for you to understand a deeper part of yourself. Look.”

Vivienne gestured, and the memory played. Bullets slammed into Alice, and Ambrose forced himself to watch. Watch as the blood burst forth from her body as if she were a pierced water balloon. It stained the bedding the darkest crimson he had ever seen.

He watched his past self rock with rage and lunge at Eric, only to earn several bullets himself.

The memory paused.

“Do you see his reaction, Knight? The pleasure coursing through his eyes? He enjoyed this. It isn’t an instant satisfaction, either. That is the pleasure of one who is seeing a plan come to fruition.”

Ambrose slid to the ground.

A weight lifted from him then. A weight so heavy, so profound that it sent a rush of relief through him to be rid of it. A weight he hadn’t even been aware he was carrying.

Something unseen unclenched from Ambrose’s heart, and for the first time since his wife’s death, he allowed himself to grieve.