Pure Requiem - Aja James Page 0,2

my watchers would have gotten an eye and earful of me belting out golden oldies in the phenomenally acoustic rainforest shower while I bump and grind my boney hips to a beat that only I can hear, swinging my dingdong like a diva with a wired microphone.

All by myself…don’t wanna be, all by myseeeelllfff! Anyyymoooorreee…

I miss my underground karaoke bar, damn it.

Still, it’s a nice illusion. And as my existence seldom features strangely pleasant interludes such as this, I cling to my false sense of privacy and freedom like a vampire tick.

Another room that is accessible to me is the training hall.

Now, you may think, those stupid Pure Ones, have their brains gone soft along with their do-gooder hearts? How can they put Medusa’s number one henchman in the same room as three entire walls of modern and ancient weapons? Do they want to have their throats slit in their sleep?

Well, the Dozen are unfortunately not that dumb. They must know that I am useless in any kind of physical activity. Even fucking. Or getting fucked as is most often the case, despite having more experience in that arena than…there’s no comparison really.

Back to weapons and combat. I can’t fight to save my life. Literally. The thought of fists against flesh or bone, metal slicing through skin and muscle, blood and gore splattering every which way… shudder. I may not mind watching it, like a good horror flick, but I totally mind participating in it (and most likely, being on the receiving end of it). See my aversion to suicide by seppuku above.

It’s a different story if my opponent is immobilized, and all I have to do is torture them. I can easily do that. But only if there’s a point to it, if it’s a means to an end. Unlike my Mistress, for whom torture and pain are both the means and the end.

So perhaps the Pure Ones sense this uselessness and cowardice in me. Maybe they purposely give me access to weapons to trap me into using one so that they can then use my transgression as an excuse to punish or kill me (though that seems more like something my Mistress would do). Whatever the reason, the cavernous chamber where their fighters, or Chevaliers, and the Elite warriors train is open for my visitation.

I go there everyday to observe the combatants. Not to take notes for Medusa, though I should. Just to watch. It’s the one common area where there’s always people, but I don’t have to interact with the people in it.

The kitchen and the dining hall I avoid as a rule because I don’t like to eat and I don’t want to socialize. The library doesn’t have many visitors, especially since the Pure Ones’ Scribe and Seer, Eveline Marceau, is currently not in residence.

In the training hall, people don’t congregate to chitchat. They just practice beating each other black and blue. And I come to watch because my favorite pair of fighters are here, everyday, same time.

Tal-Telal and Liv what’s-her-name.

Since coming across them the first time, the legendary General of the Pure Ones has not asked me again to join them. But every time I slip into the hall to watch the fighters go about their routines from a corner wall, he always acknowledges me with a dip of his head.

For a blind man, he sees better than anyone.

Liv, a human Chevalier, never acknowledges me with action or word, but I know she knows I’m there. I can practically see the invisible hackles on the back of her neck rise whenever I enter the room. It’s obvious I’ve rubbed the little she-man the wrong way since day one, and the feeling is exceedingly mutual.

I’ve seen and observed all of the Elite warriors in action by now.

Let’s start with Cloud, the Valiant. A mysterious warrior of mixed Asian and Slavic heritage if I’m not mistaken. He specializes in distance combat with his long spear, his fighting style fluid and graceful. He seems to inflict maximum damage with minimal effort.

He’s stared at me a few times with those strange, piercing blue eyes of his. From the information I’ve gathered about him, he has the Gift of very strong telepathy. To the point of mind control, or at least extreme persuasion. But aside from a slight headache, I remain unpersuaded by him. Perhaps it’s because my mind is not entirely…whole.

He’s Mated to Aella, the Strategist. This seems to be a relatively recent event, because they can’t keep their