Chapter Sixty-Three: Member Tyrian''s Daughter


    T’tam was at a crossroads with himself, and he tried to ignore his thoughts, but they flooded him. On this day alone, so much had happened. First, Kol had been voted the leader of the Vanguard, and, afterwards, he had gotten to meet the Sterkona, Yue Zhang herself! Next, he and Lysander had agreed to brainwash—the only word that really fit in T’tam’s head—the other members of the Parliament. Finally, Member Tyrian had come to him with astounding and terrifying news.


    Not to mention he still had to deal with the verbal abuse of any Cultist protesters outside in the streets.


    The day didn’t pass quickly enough, and the night, too quickly.


    The morning, at least, went about as well as a normal morning. He was greeted by the shouts of his beautiful kids. His wife was, he assumed, in the kitchen.


    Breakfast was a mild affair, but it was enough for his worries to overwhelm him again.


    “What’s your plan today, honey?” Rosia kissed him.


    “I’ll do my normal work, and coincidentally run into some of the Members.”


    His wife nodded. “Don’t go for all of them at once.”


    “Of course not. I’m not that stupid.”


    His wife glared at him. “Don’t say that about yourself.”


    T’tam couldn’t help but quip back. “So I am that stupid?”


    Pursing her lips, Rosia raised the spoon she was using. “You’re happy today.”


    T’tam sighed. “Yeah, definitely.”


    “What’s wrong?”


    For a second, T’tam started to speak on Member Tyrian, but he caught himself. “I can’t say. I’m fine, I promise.”


    “What are you hiding from me, T’tam Ward?”


    “Nothing I want to, love,” He replied. “Just…give me time.”


    “You’re not putting us in any danger, are you?”


    “I hope not.”


    — — —


    His favorite page was already waiting for him when he arrived. Maddy smiled at him and handed him a letter.


    “This just came in for you, sir.”


    The envelope contained no words, it was just blank and empty.


    “Who brought this?” He asked his page.


    “I didn’t recognize him,” Maddy admitted, “but I think he was a page.”


    “I thought you knew all of them,” T’tam told her, ripping it.


    “So did I,” she responded.


    After T’tam expertly tore the envelope open, bits of it still falling to the ground, he grabbed the letter and opened it.


    I need you now, Member T’tam. Meet me at roof 3-b as quickly as you can. Come alone, if you can. Danger awaits.


    “Tyrian?” T’tam whispered to himself.


    “What was that?” Maddy asked, reaching her head to read the letter. Hurriedly, T’tam pressed it to his breast.


    “I’m sorry, this is private.” Maddy glared at him and narrowed her eyes in suspicion, but T’tam shrugged. “Can I not have private letters?”


    “Strange in the Parliamentary halls!”


    T’tam cringed. “Listen, I have to go. You know what to do.”


    “What’s going on, T’tam.” Seeing he was about to respond, Maddy cut in. “And don’t tell me it’s nothing. I may not know you like Rosia does, but I know you well enough to understand when you’re worried. Does this have to do with Rosia?” She asked, the implication evident.


    “No, no! I would never do that!” T’tam interjected. “You know how I love my wife!”


    “That may be true, but we’re all susceptible to our own…”


    “No, I’m sorry but you’re very wrong.”


    “Then what the hell is going on?”


    T’tam hated to play this card, but it was time. “You are merely my page, Madeleine. Do not make me use my own power against you.”


    Madeleine huffed in outrage. “So that’s how you’re going to play it? This won’t end great for you, T’tam.”


    Opening the door, T’tam cringed. “I know. Be glad I’m not taking you down with you.”


    “Yes, you are!” Maddy screamed, but T’tam was already gone. He felt guilty for having to keep secrets from Maddy, but this was important. If she couldn’t see how guilty he felt, it wasn’t his fault. Maybe it was his guilt that tipped her off.


    Stealthily—at least, as stealthily as a man in a formal suit could walk—T’tam sneaked through the corridors, avoiding any familiar eyes. Many pages would be spying on him and he only hoped he would lose them through the labyrinthine twists he was taking to the room.He himself had a page posted on basically every Member, it was normal in these politics. He was almost sure he knew who some of the spies were, but right now that was unimportant.


    He needed to avoid all eyes that could recognize him. Thankfully, he didn’t see anyone who would notice him, so he got to room 3-b without any problems. Opening the door without caution, t’tam walked in and scanned his surroundings.


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    Immediately, a knife was pressed to his throat.


    “What the hell did you do?” A voice hissed. Member Tyrian. Grabbing his arm, T’tam threw Member Tyrian to the ground.


    “What was that for?” He asked, locking the door in case anyone heard the noise.


    Member Tyrian growled, raising his knife.


    “I knew I couldn’t trust you, you bastard!” The man screamed as he charged T’tam again, who dodged out of the way.


    “What are you talking about?”


    “Don’t play dumb,” Tyrian said, swiping at him, a swing that T’tam barely ducked.


    “I don’t understand!”


    Tyrian paused in his tracks. “You’re serious.”


    “YES!” T’tam said, exasperated. “Now, will you please tell me what’s going on?”


    The other member threw a letter in his face. “Read it, and tell me yourself what you’ve done.”


    Extremely confused, T’tam read the letter, breath leaving his throat and an invisible hand constricting him.


    You fool, Tyrian! You have done what we told you not to! We warned you not to share what was going on with anyone. Now, it’s too late. You have disobeyed and deserve punishment.


    Do not ask how we know what you did. You already know the answer, we assume.


    May this be a lesson to you. Don’t disobey us again!


    You’re getting off light this time. It’s only a flower. Next, it will be the information.


    “I didn’t tell anyone anything, I swear,” T’tam told a skeptical Tyrian. “What’s this about getting off light with a flower?”


    “I was hoping you could clarify,” Tyrian told him. “As it seems you ratted me out.”


    “It wasn’t me,” T’tam threw the letter, “I don’t understand how they figured it out, but I think you made it all the more dangerous that we’re talking.”


    “I doubt it,” Tyrian replied. “If they know you know, then they won’t mind if we talk about it. After all, you are the reason they sent this. But now I need to know what they mean by flower?”


    “You can’t think of anything that it could be?” T’tam asked.


    “It could be a million things, each worse than the last,” Tyrian admitted. “But I can’t find anything reasonable.”


    “Well, it’s obviously not going to be a real flower.”


    “Good job, detective.”


    “I’m not done. But it’s going to be a mirror of a flower. Something you would call your flower. Something important to you. Ring any bells?”


    “Well, that doesn’t mean anything,” Tyrian told him. “I call all my kids from both families different flowers.”


    Both men blanched at the same time.


    “We need to leave.”


    — — —


    The sprint to Tyrian’s house felt like fifteen miles instead of the two miles it was, and T’tam gut roiled. Tyrian was clearly pained, but he kept moving, determination fighting with the desperation in his face. Onlookers stared as the formally clothed men ran through the streets, screaming for others to get out of the way.


    Finally, after what felt like hours but was probably only half an hour, they finally arrived at Tyrian’s illustrious home, but there was no time to admire the beauty. They were here for one reason and one reason only.


    The house was deathly quiet, no light emitted from it.


    “Is this normal?” T’tam asked.


    “Not at all,” Tyrian shook his head, worry crossing his face. “Let’s go.”


    He opened the door to the house and walked in. T’tam followed him but ran into the other Member who had stopped dead in his tracks.


    “No,” He breathed, and T’tam looked over his shoulder.


    There was a woman on the ground, alive but unconscious, her blonde hair cascading over her face. T’tam assumed it was his wife.


    “She’s alive,” T’tam said. “There are no visible wounds, but she looks fine. We need to check on your kids. Three, right?”


    “No, that’s my other family,” Tyrian whispered. “I have two in this family. Rose and Chrissie. Lights of my life, five and six.”


    Rose and Chrysanthemum. Flowers, indeed.


    “Lights of your life indeed,” T’tam snorted. “That’s why you went and made another family.”


    “Shut it, Member,”Tyrian spat. “My life choices are mine, even if they are bad.”


    “Horrible,” T’tam agreed. “Absolutely, astonishingly, horrifyingly bad.”


    “I get it,” Tyrian growled. “Can you stop?”


    “Yes, sorry,” T’tam said, slightly embarrassed. “I’m just a little disgusted by the idea of cheating on my wife.”


    “Think about what I’m feeling,” His acquaintance told him as he climbed the stairs to the second floor. “Come with me. Their room is this way.” Over Tyrian’s hands, balls of flame appeared, making T’tam jump.


    “I forgot you were a mage.”


    “I’d like to forget to,” the Member said.


    The door to the room was closed, and the silence was foreboding. Trying the lock, Tyrian cursed to find it locked.


    “I’ve got this,” He said, swinging the knife, and cracking the door open. “Please be okay, please…”


    Only one person was in the room, a young child, six or seven years old. Chrissie. Kneeling next to her and dropping his knife, Tyrian breathed a sigh of relief too.


    “She seems just asleep as well. Oh, thank god, you’re alive!”


    “Tyrian,” T’tam asked, horror entering his voice. “Is that Rose?”


    Tyrian’s eyes widened, looking at where the man was pointing.


    And there she was, a picture of childhood cuteness, a little five year old girl, head cocked as she looked at them.


    “Daddy?” She asked, curiosity entering her voice.


    “Hey, Rosie,” Tyrian said, walking towards where his daughter was in the entryway, hands held out for a hug. “What happened here?”


    “RIGHTEOUS JUDGMENT!” Rosie screamed, and suddenly, she changed. Her teeth grew along with her mouth, elongating to where her mouth was unclosable. Her fingers stretched to claws, and her torso expanded. With a growl, the creature that was once Rosie bit into her father’s shoulders, tearing skin and muscle. Tyrian screamed.


    The creature fell backwards as T’tam stabbed it once, then twice.


    “Stop! That’s my daughter!” Tyrian screamed at T’tam.


    “Not anymore,” T’tam growled as he pummeled the creature, who clawed and bit at him, tearing his skin but not injuring him severely. “Your Rose is long gone. I’m sorry, Tyrian.”


    Finally, the creature fell quiet, and Tyrian groaned, whether from the pain or sadness, T’tam didn’t know.


    “My daughter,” he whimpered. “My precious daughter. Rose.”


    “We need to get you to the hospital,” T’tam said, grabbing the man over one shoulder. “Let’s go.”


    “My Rosie, my Rosie…”


    As they began to move towards the stairs, movement caught T’tam’s eye, and he moved just in time to punch the creature as it came at him, and once again, he reached for the knife and stabbed, but this time he sliced again and again, until the monster-child was decapitated.


    “The Cult isn’t playing around anymore,” He said.


    “We need to do what they tell us,” Tyrian said. “We can’t let them kill anyone else.”


    “We’ll do what we can,” T’tam told him, as he limped with him. “But we can’t let the Cult do what it wants. This is a horrible crime, and it shall not go unpunished.


    “I promise you, Tyrian. One day, we will pay the bastards back. We’ll make them beg.”


    The thought brought a twinge of guilt as he thought about the violence, but he forced it down this time.


    The Cult deserved it.