I could use
A shot
Your novacaine
My soul's a fuse
Blows away your name

Then you can be the remedy
And I can be the enemy
And he can go and live as nothing
They you can be the wanna be
And I can be the remedy
And he can go to hell for all I care

Say this world is not so shallow
When you can't beg steal or borrow
Save your breath your soul is hollow
And it's all too much to swallow

Take this souvenir
They can't deny you were here
This scar always there
To medicate your fear

The Remedy © Abandoned Pools

***

The world had changed drastically since the days the Son of God walked the Earth. Now, the sons and daughters of man littered the streets of modern day Jeruselum, sullying the soil the Messiah had tred upon so many centuries ago.

Now, one who called herself a daughter of God darted along the back allleys of the squat buildings, escaping easily from an angry merchant who's wares had been taken. She was struggling. She was in pain. But she sought redemption, and mercy from the Lord, our Father. Surely, she would be granted mercy, a damned soul such as herself?

For she was damned. No matter how much she wished to be forgiven, she had broken a commandment, and that was unforgiveable. But she would take it in stride, and commit herself to the Holy Trinity, if only to make the burden easier to bear.

She wiped the sweat from her brow with the back of her hand. She was an outlandish creature indeed - her eyes were an eerie scarlet, her skin as white as snow, and with hair to match. She stared at the loaf of bread in her left hand, and the cheese in her right. Just more blood on her hands that could never be washed off. Theft, manslaughter ... what next? Cold-blooded murder? No ... she would not let it happen. Sarine Cecillias had turned a new leaf. She was determined not to let it soak in the blood of another once again.

Hurrying down yet another alley, she sought out her partner, Ghaith. He would be pleased to know she'd avoided outright confrontation and had taken their meal without a fight. She smiled.

God knows you're lonely souls
God knows you're lonely souls
God knows you're lonely souls
Yeah, yeah

I believe theres a time and a place
To let your mind drift and get out of this place
I believe theres a day and a place
That we will go to, and I know you wanna share.

There's no secret to living (theres no secret to living)
Just keep on walking
There's no secret to dying (theres no secret to dying)
Just keep on flying.

I'm gonna die in a place that dont know my name
I'm gonna die in a space that dont hold my fame.

God knows you're lonely souls
God knows you're lonely souls.

I believe theres a time when the cord of life
Should be cut, my friends (cut the cord, my friend)
I believe theres a time when the cord can be cut
And this vision ends (let this vision end).

But I'm gonna die in a place that dont know my name
And I'm gonna cry in a space that dont hold my fame.

Walking in the cold
Just keep on flying
There'll be a searchlight
On the mountain high
God knows you're lonely souls
God knows you're lonely souls
God knows you're lonely souls
God knows you're lonely souls
Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
I'm a lonely soul.

I'm gonna die in a place that dont know my name
I'm gonna die in a place that dont know my name.

God knows you are lonely souls
Lonely souls
Lonely souls
Lonely souls
I'm a lonely soul.

So long, little chapel
Pack up your light
Pack up your light
Say goodbye to the holy water life
Ohhh.....
This is an End....
Ahhh.....

Sitting atop the church's large stone cross, looking across the ground at the citizens wandering Badi al Zamad sighed heavily, "Ah, little dove, where art thou?"
Though, much to most people surprise, he wasn't really looking. In fact, Ghaith Badi al Zamad (Rain, The Marvel of Time in Arabic) couldn't even see. For he was blind. Even though he was blind, however, Badi al Zamad could see, he'd been trained since the age of thirteen to be able to walk, fight, run, climb, even see, so to speak, without his eyes.
However, he wasn't always blind. He'd been tortured, experimented on to become blind through the use of psionic genaelogist's. He hated this fact, but, he'd never really regretted it.

Not fully.

Turning around, a lifetime of training helping him not even lose his balance, he hopped down onto the roof. He couldn't believe he'd found the love of his life, Sarine Cecillias, an Ex-Zynthis, a Secret Guardian of Mankind and their Children.
While Badi al Zamad was once a Hafiz (meaning 'Guardians or Protectors in Arabic), the Secret Keeper's of the Zynthis ways, and the Keepers of their dead as well. All of their knowledge.
He knew it all by heart.

Hearing Sarine approach, he hopped down, next to a haystack and waited in the shadows. Listening very carefully, using the rest of his senses as his eyes, he expertly grabbed her wrist and threw her into the haystack. Leaning against the wall, as if praying, he waited until he knew the guards after Sarine were gone.
Smiling a little cockily to himself and helping Sarine out, he lightly kissed her hand, and quoted the Bible afterwards, "Ah!" He laughed, "For the Law was given through Moses, but Grace and Truth came through Jesus Christ."

Something closed around the albino's wrist. She squeaked, before landing on the soft cushion of the haystack. Footsteps darted past. And soon she was being fished out, pieces of hay sticking out haphazardly from her hair. Grasping the food in one hand and letting the other be held by her love, she smiled in defeat, sighing slightly. "You got hay all over the cheese and the bread, you know. I hope you don't mind."

Once he'd released her hand, she held their meal out in front of her, knowing he would be able to smell it just fine. "It's fresh! And I didn't even have to fight for it this time," she announced proudly, grinning from ear to ear. Fangs sparkled in the sun, and her tail swished behind her. She was like a deriviation of the devil himself, even if she sought forgiveness. Sarine Cecillias was a half-phantom. Her tail was thin and coated with poison at the end, and her outland-ish features were common amongst her race. But prejudice and fear would not keep her down. They didn't know how she was really like. And she couldn't blame them.

"So. Shall we go home and break the bread? I'm hungry." The Windsorrow took Ghaith's hand in hers and started to lead the way. He was perfectly capable of doing it himself. But she wanted to hold his hand. There was nothing wrong with that, was there?

"Agreed, Sarine." Ghaith couldn't help but grin beneath his hood. He looked down for a moment, "You know, there is an abandoned building a bit far out, apparently the Hashashin used it as their Bureau of Assassination Documentations and jobs. The only entry is locked, and on the roof. Why don't we head there?" He knew Sarine knew a slight bit about the Hashashin, almost everyone in Jerusalem did. The Ancient War between the 'assassins' and the 'knights', the sides being The Knights Templar and the Hashashin.
Even without waiting for an answer, he lead her there, gripping her hand with care, yet a firm dedication to her.


Not an hour later, he was sitting on a pile of dusty pillows eating bread with her, reading ancient, long-forgot texts from the Hashashin's Bureau Master's, the 'Rafi'. "My God... So interesting...." He looked at the ceiling, jokingly, and said "Please don't be angered Father, Prayed tonight, you know, so I've remembered you tonight. Please, give me a good night, will you?" Then, smiling, he closed the dusty book. "These are nearly impossible to read! Such ancient Farsi writings, this place is a treasure trove of knowledge! How archaeologist's haven't found it... Well... It's beyond me!" Then again, he thought, the building was built on top of by, very ironically, a museum. Though why they did this...
Maybe a descendant did it to protect his ancestors?
Possible, Ghaith thought.

Looking up with a curious, yet innocent gleam in his eyes, he smiled, "Sarine... What was Antarctica like... How was the Spirit Guild compared to the Holy Land?" Ghaith had only ever known the tombs, catacombs, cathedrals, and archives in which he'd grown up.
The ever-so-secret Death Guild of the Zynthis Clan, though few knew of it, he'd told Sarine about it nonethless. He could trust her.
"And, if you don't mind my asking... Why do you hate the Zynthis? Don't mind my opinion, but, your exile was punishment, you did deserve it... I'd gone against my own Creed, you know, and was tortured, blinded and exiled because of it... But, now I see, Sarine..." He smiled lightly, "They did it to teach me how to truly see the morality of our cause... I actually thank them... Because if I hadn't been exiled..." He gripped her hand warmly, even if he couldn't really see it with his eyes, he could see it in his mind. His minds-eye had never failed to work. "I wouldn't have met you, my Dove."

"What's beyond me," Sarine had remarked with a grin, "Is how you can read when your eyes fail you!" she laughed a little to herself, but did not doubt him. He had his own ways to see. But then he asked her about her home, the Spirit Guild, it's extreme winter landscape on stark contrast to the sandy dunes of the desert. Her smile took a bitter turn to it. But her voice did not betray her emotions.

"The Spirit Guild is much different from here, it almost seems as if it has been neglected by the Lord, though of course, that is untrue," she started, sitting cross-legged on a pillow at his feet. "It's always bitter cold, and the sun rises much less frequently. But we almost never feel the cold. We're always in the heart of the glaciers and the rock beneath it, and it's warm and inviting. Our libraries held troves of knowledge, though certainly not as much as the Death Guild ..." she trailed off, a dreamy look in her eye.

His last words might've slapped that look off her face, smile and all. She knew it was punishment, and she was well aware that she deserved what she had gotten. It was retribution. But still, it was like salt on an open wound. And it stung. "Ghaith, please understand, I do not wish to hate them. I just ... can't stop myself. Perhaps it is because I am bitter, and miss my family and my friends. To never see them again ... it is lonely." She smiled again and looked to him, eyes closed to hide the pain she knew would shine in their vermillion depths. "But I have you now, Ghaith, and I know the good Lord is with me. And I am glad."

He chuckled a little as she asked how he could read this, "Actually, I'm reading it because some of the Hashashin, apparently, were blind. From what I can tell, one page is in braille, the other is in writing, that's why it's so large..." He gasped a little as his hand found hers, "I... I'm sorry." He smiled a little nervously, "It's... It's interesting, being blind, and feeling these things... It's incredible when you can't see it..." His hand drifted away from her, into his pocket, pulling out a shamach (almost like an arabic version of a bandana/cloth. But thicker, and a lot cooler), "Put this over your eyes... I'll show you what I mean..."

He couldn't help but wonder... What is it that would happen to them, should they ever be seperated, he did do some... Black Work, so to speak, for the Church in Jerusalem, for even the Church had a... Darker side. Everything always did, and Ghaith above all knew that, he thought.
"Sarine... I have a question... Your... Your brother. What was he like? Was he too an Exile, or did he have your Kyn instead, when your Father died in service...?" He smiled a little, "Sorry... I must admit... I was tasked with taking care of your father's corpse, he lives now in the Cecillias Tomb, with your other family. So too do his weapons... Ironic..." He jokingly laughed, "He was wearing a suit when he got hit by that train... All for the Kyn, too... A damn fool your father was, always too.... Overzealous..." Keeping his head down now, he looked sad, "I'm sorry... I know... What he means to you..." He shrugged, but looked up, "And how was your Advisor, Mathias I think, your fathers' friend?"

I wonder if she knows that even in death Windsorrow's are still treated the same as the others... Even in Exile... They're still family...

"Ooh," was her response, watching him with unabashed intrigue, not even blushing when they found each other's hands. She just smiled and laughed a little. He was so shy. And if he hadn't been blind, she might not have put the shamach on. But she took it from him gingerly and wrapped it around her head, effectively covering her eyes. Her head turned about as she experimented, frowning a little in concentration. It was strange ... it astounded her how he'd ever managed to survive like that.

His question reached her ears, and she stopped looking about. More salt on the gash along her heart. Her head dropped. "My brother ... Nikolai, he was so caring, so protective of me ... and he was calm and gentle, and patient ... so wonderful with children. When our father died, he received our Kyn, and I was assigned to another of his relative's. And Matthias ... he was just like Nikolai. A second father, really. You never found him without some sort of book or piece of literature, and he was quite sagely. I wonder if they think of me at all ... wonder if they hate me ..." She took the shamach off and handed it back to him, closing his fingers gently around the cloth, which had absorbed a few tears that threatened to stream down her cheeks. "Here."

Smiling a little shyly, he shrugged, taking the shamach and putting it in his pocket again. "Sarine... All Windsorrow are still family to the Zynthis... Your brother does care about you, trust me. In fact..." He looked a little cautious in the thought, "Would you... Like to... Visit him?" He'd never offer such a heretical idea to anyone, but she was special... She was his Dove, and he wanted her to be happy, no matter the cost of his own life. "Sarine..." He shifted himself next to her, leaning on her in a hug-like manner. "I do love you, you know..." He found this hard to say, his mouth was as dry as the very tombs he'd grown up in. "I'm not sure, however, if I deserve you..."

(This is not a Sarine I'm used to! I like it, though... I almost like her now. lols.)

Sarine looked at him like he was a madman. For he was. No Windsorrow had ever dared try and return to their home. And if they had, they were dead. But the prospect of going back and at least seeing her brother again (she wasn't sure seeing Mathias was the best idea), she felt ... anxious. Excited, even. It was an effort to keep the smile out of her voice. "Ghaith, do you really mean it? Would you help me do that?"

She couldn't help herself anymore. She threw her arms around his neck and buried her nose in his collarbone. She was trembling. Whether from happiness or from sobs she held back, even she wasn't sure. But her hold on him was tight, and she never wanted to let go. "Ghaith, you deserve all the world and more, but I cannot give it to you. Thank you ..."

[[ Oh yeah, Sarine wasn't always a stone-cold bitch. :] And I keep missing you! I'm sorry. I miss you. <3 ]]

(I miss you too, Ad'ika. ^_^. Love you!!!)

Hugging her back, he couldn't help but suddenly worry. What if it all went wrong? "I... Have an idea. Why don't we get a messenger, a bird that is, to send a letter to tell your brother to meet us somewhere?" Suddenly he had a thought, "Wait a moment... Sarine..." He pulled away, his arms still at her waist though, "Windsorrow aren't allowed to see their past family. But, they are allowed to write to them. It's a little loophole I found ages ago, when I was dat-" He cut short there, "I mean, hanging around another Windsorrow." Suddenly he looked and felt tense, to what Sarine knew, he'd only had one relationship with a Hafiz, he didn't mention this person was a Windsorrow as well.

Her face sunk, her eyes a little sullen. So she couldn't see him. Couldn't hear his voice, couldn't hold him and tell him it was going to be okay, one last time ... her broken heart could've ripped up into quarters right there and then. But it was a form of communication. She could still keep in touch. At least it was something. Just another lifeline to hold onto.

"Ghaith, anything will do, as long as I can speak to him in one form or another. Maybe tell him where I am, how I'm doing ... ask about what he's up to. how everyone is. Do you think he would like that?" She looked up to him hopefully. Her brother would keep it a secret, she was sure. Or maybe she wasn't. Maybe she was just lying to herself in her desperation. She didn't know, she didn't care. What mattered was, she was going to talk to her family after three months of solitude, and four months with only the company of Ghaith and God Almighty.