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Super Genetics
Chapter 13: Guiding Compass

Chapter 13: Guiding Compass

The doctor gently escorted Tania out of the office. She huffed and protested, but didn’t resist as he led her away.

“Uh, maybe we should go too, uh, Lord Mesmer?” Liam asked hesitantly.

Terry had to admire the bravery, but also wondered if it was perhaps, stupidity.

“Just Mesmer is fine. And not quite yet, young man. First, we need to discuss what you’ve seen tonight.”

The older boy audibly gulped, nodding quickly.

“Oh, uh, sure.”

The revenant moved around the chairs, seeming to glide as he approached the two paramedics. Jimmy was wringing his hands together in front of him, while Liam white-knuckled the couch’s armrest.

Mesmer lingered over them a moment, causing the two boys to grow increasingly tense. Liam seemed to think the revenant was waiting for them to say something.

“We didn’t see anything!” he suddenly burst out. “We swear!”

Liam’s panic appeared to infect Jimmy, who nodded along fervently.

Terry, on the other hand, felt they were misreading the situation. But if Mesmer tried to punish the boys simply for doing their job, he would do whatever was in his power to countermand that order.

Meaning, he’d swallow his pride and beg his father to intervene. His personal grudge against the man wasn’t important enough to prevent him from helping his new friends.

But the smile on Mesmer’s face wasn’t villainous, at least, not to Terry’s eyes. There was a thoughtful tilt to his head and the slightest twinkle in his eye as he regarded the two.

“Did you think I would throw you in the dungeons for the crime of saving the prince’s life?”

Liam’s mouth flopped open and Jimmy glanced toward Terry as if forgetting the boy was even in the room.

His look seemed to say, Oh, right…I did do that, didn’t I?

Terry chuckled lightly, now that he knew Mesmer would treat them with a fair disposition.

“But the doctor—” Jimmy started.

Mesmer cut him off. “In fact, I think the kingdom owes you a great thanks. The Emperor understands that the fog has made the job of first responders quite difficult. As recompense, he has decreed that you shall receive hazard pay. Double your wages for the remainder of the month.”

Both boys’ eyes went wide and they shared a look.

“And for saving the prince’s life, another six months pay.”

A smile stretched across Liam’s face and he slapped Jimmy’s arm.

Terry nodded, feeling some of the weight lift from his shoulders. Ever since they’d returned to the palace, he’d been getting a sinking feeling that he’d dragged the two paramedics into a sticky situation. He felt put at ease knowing they were getting justly compensated for their troubles.

“Th-thank you, Mesmer,” Jimmy said. Unlike Liam, his expression was somber, as if he were waiting for the catch.

“Yes,” Liam added much more enthusiastically. “Thank you, Mesmer!”

The revenant returned a simple nod, then held up a finger. Jimmy’s face sunk and Terry wondered if the boy had the right of it.

“However—” He leaned over them, his smile shifting into a frown. The two boys withered under that stare, trying to sink into the couch. Terry himself felt a shiver down his neck and realized that aura was at play here. “—you are never, ever, to discuss the prince’s injuries or what may have caused them. Are we clear?”

Now it was both boys who gulped and they couldn’t nod their heads fast enough.

“Whatever you say, sir!”

“Yeah, yep, um, yes, Mesmer, sir!”

Terry narrowed his eyes at the strong-arm tactic but ultimately couldn’t fault the revenant. He understood that his grandfather wouldn’t want word of the draugr attacking Terry to get out. But why hadn’t he forbidden them from discussing the dead civilians?

He’d only sworn them to secrecy about me…

Mesmer’s frown was massaged away in an instant, a beaming smile replacing it so thoroughly that it was as if it had never been. But there was something more than that, a ripple of…something that put Terry at ease.

More aura, Terry realized.

“Excellent! I do appreciate your understanding, boys. Your service to the Emperor and the city is duly noted. Please do take the rest of the week off—I’ll clear it with your supervisor. Pleasure meeting you both.”

He eyed them expectantly and they took the hint, rushing to their feet as they bowed themselves out of the door.

“Thank you, Mesmer,” they echoed.

Crunch pulled the door shut behind them and Terry followed the revenant with his eyes as the man moved to sit behind his desk.

“Did you have to use your powers on them?” he asked, crossing his arms. A spike of adrenaline renewed as he confronted Mesmer, but a sliver of anger fueled him. “They would have been happy just to get out of this with the extra money.”

The revenant eyed him with an arched brow.

“Ah, you felt that, did you? Impressive.” He leaned over to look past Terry toward Crunch. “Your teacher, I presume.”

Terry glanced back at Crunch, who remained impassively by the door, neither reacting or acknowledging the revenant’s question.

“Yes, but I couldn’t really feel what you were doing. I just felt…something. Plus, the draugr blasted me with its aura, so I’m a bit sensitive right now.”

Mesmer clicked his tongue in interest. “Yes, I can see the signs writ across your spectrum. The draugr wasn’t aiming to subdue or frighten you, was it?”

He thought back to the feeling of its aura, wielded like a heavy mallet slamming down upon his flesh. Ice seemed to crawl up his back at the mere memory.

“No, I don’t think it was,” he replied. “Even before I punched it, it was trying to kill me.”

The revenant’s eyebrows climbed his forehead and he pursed his lips.

“Excuse me? You…punched the draugr?”

His tone was laced with doubt, which annoyed Terry.

“Ask Crunch if you don’t believe me,” he said with a wave to the ghoul. “That’s how I broke my wrist.”

Mesmer tilted his head and chuckled.

“Oh, no, if you say it, I believe it, my prince.”

The revenant leaned forward, steepling his hands in front of his face, a wry smile on his lips.

“I guess the part I’m confused about is…why?”

Terry felt heat rush up the back of his neck at the question. He glanced over his shoulder at Crunch, but the ghoul was as impassive as ever. Still, he was more than a little embarrassed at the revenant’s question.

“I don’t know,” he admitted reluctantly. “That thing was trying to kill my friends and I…” A pain stabbed his chest and he couldn’t blame it on his injured ribs. “I was powerless. I did whatever I could to slow it down, even for half a second.”

The revenant’s wry smile slipped off his face, replaced by a thoughtful pinch of his lips. His eyes tracked to the side, lingering on the bookshelf. Terry thought he was lost in thought, but Mesmer’s gaze was focused on something out of sight. Before he could turn to see what the revenant was staring at, his eyes cut back with an intensity that made the boy shiver.

“I understand the feeling all too well. That desperate animal instinct that strikes when one faces a foe they cannot possibly match. As I understand it, this incident signals twice in a week where you’ve pitted your mortal body against superpowered foes.”

Terry furrowed his brow for a moment, then realized what the revenant was referring to.

“When I charged Savage, you mean?” Mesmer nodded acknowledgment. “You heard about that?”

He spread his hands. “As the Emperor’s revenant, how could I not? But that brings me to the reason I asked you to stay back.”

Terry felt his heart skip a beat. Was he in trouble? He didn’t know what the revenant could do to him? Banish him to his room? What did he care? Take away his games and net access? He had no intention of wasting his time playing games—not with everything that had happened—but he would miss the net access, if only to continue his investigation into his mother’s death and the mysterious Silver who had killed the draugr.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Then a terrible thought hit him and his stomach flipped.

What if he punished Crunch? Mesmer had just this morning given me leave to keep the ghoul around and within hours, I’d risked my life and the lives of a dozen ghouls to leave the palace.

His fists clenched tight, his knuckles turning white as he fought to keep his pounding heart in check.

Mesmer seemed to sense his piqued state and tilted his head in question.

My aura, he realized. It must be like reading an open book to the revenant.

“Please, you’re not in trouble. I simply want to remind you that you have responsibilities greater than the servants at your side.” Mesmer leaned over to spot Crunch directly. “And I mean no offense. Crunch and his people are essential to this city and the royal family.”

He glanced back to see Crunch incline his head slightly. But Terry wasn’t as easily mollified.

“If you’re saying I should have run and sacrificed Crunch…then excuse me, but screw you. I’d rather Savage have ripped my arm off then have to live with that.”

Mesmer sighed and began massaging his temple with a single finger. Terry crossed his arms with a defiant look and the revenant snorted humorously.

“I see I’ve underestimated your resolve. In that case, may I simply suggest that you avoid further encounters with powerful entities intent upon your death?” He leaned forward, the violent light dancing in his eyes. “And I must insist you convince me, otherwise I’ll be forced to use my powers.”

He tensed at the bare threat, but relaxed a moment later. This was Mesmer, one of his friends. Though their relationship wasn’t as familiar as him and Whipvine, he had never had cause to fear the revenant.

And his mother had trusted the super explicitly. That he could rely on, if nothing else.

“Not exactly been searching them out, have I? I mean, I still don’t know why Sol and his Knights were trying to kidnap me!”

Mesmer pursed his lips a moment, then clicked his tongue. “Let’s just say, you would have served as a powerful hostage in the war between Wichita and Topeka.”

That didn’t quite satisfy his curiosity, but he was willing to let those questions wait for his father. There was another question looming that he was not willing to hold off on.

“And the draugr? I mean, what in the Underworld was that?” A shiver traced up his spine at the memory of the thing’s aura slamming into him like a frozen slab of rotting flesh. “It wasn’t just protecting the gates. It was aggressive. You’ve heard how many people it killed I’m guessing.”

Mesmer stared down at his desk deep in thought as he steepled his hands in front of his mouth. After a few tense moments, the revenant looked up.

“I…do not have a good answer for you.” Terry felt his anger rise and he started to interject, but the revenant held his hand up to forestall the boy. “I have an answer. It is just not a good one.” He sighed, closing his eyes for a moment, and for the first time, Terry could see the weight of this incident hanging over the revenant’s shoulders. “The truth is: we failed you.”

Terry narrowed his eyes, looking back at Crunch in confusion. Finding no help in the impassive gaze of his ghoul companion, he whipped back toward the revenant.

“Huh? How does that answer—”

“We failed you,” Mesmer said. “Because you should have never been allowed out of the palace.”

A lead weight sat in his stomach as he began to realize where the revenant was going with this.

“We never thought you would find occasion to head for the gates. A grave oversight on our part. Of course you would be compelled to return to the site of your mother’s death.” He shook his head sadly, as if he was making any type of sense. “I was preoccupied with other matters and did not keep a close enough watch over you.”

“What are you saying?” Terry leaned forward in his chair, both afraid of the answer yet needing it as well. “What about the other people it…” He trailed off, feeling that he had the answer he needed, yet praying he was misunderstanding the revenant.

Mesmer nodded, confirming the terrible truth.

“Those people were always going to die tonight. A message from the Emperor to the citizens of Wichita.”

Terry’s eyes grew wide, his throat clenching.

“No one exits the city without the Emperor’s leave.” The revenant leaned forward, his lips pressed tight. “No one.”

Those words hung heavy in the air between them and Terry felt himself frozen as if the draugr were in the room right now, flexing its aura. Slowly, he regained control of his thoughts and pulled his knees to his chest. He felt so small, so out of place.

Who is my grandfather, that he could make that order knowing he was killing innocent people? Who was Mesmer that he could so coolly enforce it?

Then, an even more terrible thought hit him.

“Did my father know?” he whispered.

He was afraid of the answer, but he had to hear it. He studied the carpeted floor, almost wishing the revenant wouldn’t answer. He tried not to hold his breath and failed. He didn’t think he could bear to hear the truth.

The desk creaked, drawing his eyes up. Mesmer had risen and was stepping around it. For the briefest moments, he thought the revenant was coming for him. He didn’t know why—he had nothing to fear from his friend—but all the same, a flash of terror washed over him.

Is that aura? Or is the revenant flexing his Hypnotist powers? Or am I…just a coward?

But the revenant wasn’t coming around the desk for Terry, instead heading over to the nearby bookshelf. He stopped with his back to Terry and the boy squinted in confusion.

“Your mother did far more for this city than even I realized.”

Terry reared back as if struck. Why is he bringing up my mother now? Is he trying to hurt me?

Mesmer continued speaking with his back to Terry.

“She was your father’s guiding compass. His true north. To the council, she was the voice of temperance, the mediator between the two factions.” Two factions? Terry wondered. “Even her influence on the Emperor was second to none.” Mesmer turned around, his hands delicately cupping something familiar.

Terry gasped.

“Is that—?” His throat caught on the words.

Held lightly in Mesmer’s hands was a fully-bloomed white rose, the stem a rich green, the petals as white as fresh snow.

The revenant nodded softly, grasping the rose by the stem. Wicked thorns covered nearly every inch of the stem so that Mesmer was forced to clutch it with two carefully placed fingers.

“She gave this to me when my service under the Emperor began. My own guiding compass.”

The revenant stared at the white petals, his eyes out of focus like he was recalling some distant memory.

Terry’s throat was dry, his voice cracking as he asked, “What do you mean?”

Mesmer’s gaze snapped back into focus, his eyebrows rising in surprise as if he had forgot Terry was there. Without answering, he turned and delicately placed the white rose back on the shelf. As he walked back to his desk, Terry could see the white rose held a place of honor on a middle shelf, a glass covering enshrining it against errant touches. He wanted to get up and examine it more than anything. But by the way Mesmer had handled it, he suspected that would not be received well.

“Why do you have that?” he asked, unable to pull his eyes away from the white rose. “I don’t even have one.” He tried not to sound like he was complaining…and failed.

The revenant settled behind his desk, sinking into his chair. He said nothing for a moment that stretched into multiple moments and Terry managed to pull his eyes away from the rose in its display.

Mesmer was eyeing him thoughtfully, a slight sag to his posture.

“I’ll tell you a bit of an open secret, if you promise not to repeat it.”

Terry dropped his feet to the floor, sitting up straight. That was not what he had been expecting the revenant to say.

“Uh, okay.” He realized how insincere that sounded and added some conviction to his voice. “I won’t say anything. Promise.”

“You understand that us revenants are bound to the Emperor, yes?”

Oh. Oh! His parents had never openly discussed the extent of his grandfather’s control over the undead.

“In a vague sense,” Terry replied.

Mesmer nodded. “Well, the truth is, we aren’t slaves. I have my own wants and desires, just as the other four—now, five—revenants on the council. But our loyalties are bound to the Emperor. We cannot act against him or his interests. But we can interpret what that means within the lens of our own personalities and experiences.”

Terry leaned forward in his chair, his full attention on the revenant.

Mesmer looked away, shifting uncomfortably.

“I…I was not a good man when the Emperor turned me. Even before I Awakened, I had done things I’m not proud of.”

Terry’s eyes went wide at the admission.

“The turning process gives one a sort of…distance from their memories. Like watching someone else’s life through their eyes. But it’s imperfect. The things I had done haunted me, coloring my actions and perceptions irrevocably. Your mother…offered to help.”

Terry glanced to the bookshelf.

“The white rose?” he asked.

Mesmer nodded, his face tight.

“She extracted all my deepest secrets, my darkest moments, preserving them in that rose there. Whenever I begin to doubt myself, my intentions, I relive those moments as a litmus test. And when I feel the shame and the self-hate, it reminds me that my humanity still lives. In that way, the memories in that rose are my lighthouse. The moment I stop hating myself is when I’ll know I’ve crashed against the rocks.”

Terry’s thoughts churned, trying to understand what the revenant was telling him, and failing.

“I don’t understand. What does that have to do with my father and the draugr?”

Mesmer leaned forward, his elbows resting on the desk.

“Your mother served as that lighthouse for many. The Emperor and your father included. The idea to send a message with the draugr was not the Emperor’s. But I firmly believe he wouldn’t have agreed if your mother was present.”

A terrible thought shook Terry and his eyes widened.

“Not…not my father?” he whispered.

“No,” the revenant replied quickly. “It was Fletcher’s idea and without your mother to lead us, the Emperor…gave in to his persuasiveness.”

His brow furrowed.

“Fletcher? Oh! You mean War Crimes?” Everything suddenly clicked into place. War Crime’s reputation was even worse than the Iron Maiden’s. The name wasn’t a given moniker like the Iron Bitch—he had chosen it. A super’s chosen name was an integral part of their identity, practically mystical in nature. By choosing War Crimes, he had signaled to the world what kind of super he planned to be. And judging by the entries on HeroWatch, he had lived up to the name and then some.

Plus, his mother had hated the man, and that was indictment enough.

“I can see that,” Terry said after a moment. “But you’re saying it was his idea to put a deranged undead at the gates knowing it would kill innocent civilians? And my father went along with it?”

Mesmer shook his head and Terry felt his clenched fist relax. Being angry with his father was one thing, but endorsing murder…that was an unbridgeable divide.

“No, he argued against it. All of us who supported your mother did. But your father was grieving and not at his most persuasive. Anyways, your mother was always the one best able to steer the Emperor.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

The revenant chuckled and shook his head.

“I suppose it’s my way of telling you that your mother will be missed. And to suggest that you not think too unkindly of your father.”

He pursed his lips and crossed his arms. “You mean, for leaving me without so much as a goodbye a couple of days after losing mom? Or for tacitly agreeing to the premeditated murder of our own citizens?”

“Both.”

Terry scoffed at the blunt honesty, looking over at his mother’s white rose.

“I’ll think about it,” he said tersely, having absolutely zero intention of doing so.

Mesmer stood from his chair, drawing Terry’s attention. He had a sad smile on his lips and was nodding softly.

“I think I’ve taken up enough of your time. Even though the doctor gave you a once over, your aura is still in tatters and I doubt that wrist is fully healed.” He looked over Terry’s head toward the door. “Crunch, please take the prince to the medical wing.”

I’m fine, he thought. But he kept it to himself, happy for the excuse to leave. Whatever the Emperor’s revenant had been trying to do, he was very much not put at ease.

If anything, he was more mad at his father than ever.

He got up to leave, then remembered he’d forgotten to tell Mesmer about the S-ranker that had saved him.

Terry regarded Mesmer skeptically. “You know, you never asked how I survived the draugr.”

The revenant’s eyebrows rose at that. “Silver, was it?”

“How’d you know that?” Terry asked with a frown.

“Crunch sent back one of your ghoul entourage and he filled me in. The Emperor was none too pleased hearing an unknown super killed a draugr, but it’s nothing for you to worry about. We’re just glad you’re okay.”

Terry regarded him silently for a moment, his thoughts confused. From the sound of it, my grandfather was more concerned about the unregistered super than he was about the draugr attack.

After hearing that his grandfather had intended the draugr to kill innocent civilians, he shouldn’t be surprised. He had so many questions, so many doubts. But the revenant’s office suddenly felt stuffy, constricting.

“Okay, well if he’s not concerned…” Terry trailed off, the sentiment sounding ridiculous even as he said it.

Mesmer nodded as if everything was just fine. “Go heal up, my prince. We’ll talk soon.”

Terry hesitated at the door, looking back as if there were more to be said. But Mesmer had already turned his back, moving with purpose toward his desk.

With a sigh, he pulled the door open and left.