The Codex of the Knights of Day - 8. Chapter 7: A Siren named Dancer

The streets were named after family members who have accomplished a new feat. The grocery store, hardware, mechanic, and many other small stores were owned by the main family. I always was amazed by the fact that we avoided accidentally case of inbreeding that such a small community brings upon the world. It was custom for Champagne to be raised here and leave to start a family and come back here to live out their days in the home they grew up in.

Jensen and Sandra found this darling and sweet with old style of Champagne that was a close to Mayberry as you could get. Casey listened dutifully, but we all know when someone is truly paying attention.

I turned back to the small and abandoned town of my mother, who spent a brief part of her childhood here. On the corner of Irma and Albert, the main streets, was Champ Food and Drugs with its French equivalent underneath. I could imagine my mother running into the store after a hot summer day with her cousins to get something to drink.

She was a tiny little girl wearing a spotted dress with long blonde plait of hair falling to her back. Faceless people sprung from my imagination to make my daydream more real. They talked and smiled with their children waiting patiently at their side or they ran off to play with the other children. My own memories of the place filled my head as I saw myself, small and large eyed, running down Black St now called Dancer St, named for my cousin.

I followed my phantom self down the street as Carlisle followed me in a heated rage. My grandfather’s house wasn’t too far, but my small legs were already wobbling and tired, my younger self looked back and kept running. I started running to keep pace with the memory until he vanished along with Carlisle.

Nausea hit me with herculean force to where I nearly fell to my knees. My Knight senses extended over the pitch-black street, feeling the every demon with odd accuracy. There were twenty demons around all of us. Hellion and Spartacus burst to life from the black snow.

A low hum began to float through the air, becoming a voice filled with fear and stress. Thunderously loud drums flooded the air to accompany the beauty voice. The singer grew bolder, the phantom music growing louder as fiery mass of fire and light illuminated the street and blinded us with its brilliant light.

Before we could stand again, a blade of wind knocked us away from the source of the newborn Sun. Its master stood underneath it, praying/singing its existence as violins drowned out the drums and phantom voices added to his. He was an attractive black teen of average height and short black hair, but there was one feature that stood out now above all the rest. He was golden, literally. His skin was pure gold light that made the sun that hovered above him was nothing but a flashlight in his rays. He opened his eyes and I gasped, where I was expecting brown or gold colored eyes, they were sigils of a sun with its flares going out north, south, east and west.

His voice went higher, all the music reached its crescendo in fantastic noise, and the sun exploded to dozens of fire columns, turning some demons to ash by sheer heat alone and swallowing the others whole with ease.

Dancer fell to the ground in exhaustion. I rushed to him, pulling my cousin into my arms but as far as I could tell, he wasn’t hurt. His eyes fluttered open and he moaned in pain.

“Dancer?” I asked, “Attention! Leve!” My French was very rusty and childish at best. I couldn’t even remember the words for “wake up”. “Allons-y, It est moi, ton cousin, Aiden.” I hope that came out right.

Dancer’ eyes focused on me. He was coming back to the real world again. “Aiden? Pourqui est-ce que tu as ici?”

I blinked at him, uncertain in what he just said. He spoke too fast for me to translate. “English, speak English.”

He frowned, trying to switch his complete grammatically process into English. Dancer had a gift for languages, being able to throw himself into the language without a thought. “Aiden? Why are you here?”He looked past me, gasping at the sight of Champ-Ville. “How did I get here?”

I steadied him as he stood up. “Where were you before?”

Dancer thought back but it was clear on his face what was wrong. “I don’t remember. Dad and Ryssa were...where’s dad and Ryssa?” He panicked. “And what were those things? And-.” I smacked him hard across the face to get him out of his fear-ridden mind.

He smacked me back harder. “No matter how crazed I get, you never slap me.” He warned. “But thank you, don’t do it again.” He looked behind me then at me again. “Who are the weird white people behind you?”

“Did you have to say it like that? But anyway, this is Jensen, Sandra, and Carson.”

He waved. Well, the motion itself looked like his hand simply popped to one side. “I wasn’t talking about them. Who are the half naked 300 wannabe and the tall ninja?”

“It’s a very long story.” I started off, telling him our story from the beginning.

Come to find out, Dancer, Ryssa, and Richard, their father, were all traveling to England for Christmas for some party before he blacked out and I found him lying in the street.

Dancer sighed, folding his arms. “Well, isn’t that just all shades of lovely?” He turned to Jensen and the others with scrutinizing eyes. “So, Jensen, you have Aiden’s Shield because Caleb gave it to you, but you’re not a Knight. Sandra, you’re a witch that doesn’t turn into a Silent Hill monster. And Casey is just human.”

Casey didn’t take that very well and spat, “Well, what the fuck are you supposed to be?”

Dancer has two very distinct personalities. The kind, shy, and soft-spoken one is called Rhys, his real name, but the mean, curt, and sarcastic person is Dancer. I, myself, think he’s emotional unstable but both personalities seem very controlled on their own.“I’m what you call a Siren. Certain songs I sing have a variety of affects on people and objects. I even know a song that can erase people from existence.” Then he added, “Human.”

“Casey, go sit down.” Jensen shooed him away with Sandra. “So, you two are cousins? Like play cousins?” He asked us.

Dancer glared at him, insulted. “It’s a good thing you’re pretty or you would have nothing working in your favor. Yes, we’re real cousins. His ancestor humped one of mine and now you have black cousins.”

“I’m sorry.” Jensen apologized. “I just never seen descendant of a slave master and the slave’s-.”

“Whoa! Dude, Dancer’ part of the family got off in France because they were part of nobility and just stayed in France and married into the Champagne family.” I informed him before Dancer had to say something.

“See what happens when you live with the hillbillies?’ Dancer said. “But I think we have more pertinent things to do right now than go through our family tree. So do we really need to go to Harvey? We don’t need Carlisle and I’m sure the last time I saw Kendal, I was going to murder him.”

I tasted bile in my mouth at the mention of their names. “Yes, we need every Knight, Witch, and Siren to beat this Eclipse. We have to go to Harvey, Gretna, and Marrero.”

“Who’s in Gretna?” He asked, surprised.

“The Dunn’s and some of the Joseph lived there.” I supplied. “Hey, where’s everyone else?”

Dancer shrugged his shoulders, aware of the utter silence that was Champagne Village. “I don’t know. It’s been years since I was last here.”

“We should check if they’re any other survivors.” Jensen said.

And so we did but all we found were bodies and demons feeding. We left quickly afterwards, fearing what was happening to the rest of the state.

Louisiana, known for its Napoleonic Laws, its corrupt politicians and cops, food, and people with thick Bayou accents who just came from the woods, is a state full of life with people constantly moving to make a better life whether through good or bad intent unlike Arkansas, whose people moved in a daze, political system seemed childish at best, police that was a joke, and the underlying racism that grew more profound to me each day.

It was hard to see my home after Katrina, seeing the still ruined streets, empty and uninhabitable houses, and the shell shock people. It did eventually get better but there was still a scar left deep in the hearts of many and those who were not born before the hurricane could never know how beautiful the city was.

I had grown to miss it fiercely, wanting nothing more than to go home and have a Number Seven plate from the Oppolusses store in Algiers’s Point and be able to ride the ferry to the Aquarium across the Mississippi River, and Zoo to get Roman candy, and be able to see the French Quarter bursting with life, selling every single thing imaginable. The last time I had been here was when my great grandmother had died and we spent the last of summer of my junior year here.

I wanted to cry at how the city had been rampaged again by something far worse than our planet’s weather. Demons ran openly in the street, chasing children and adults alike with no certain preferences. We stopped to save as many as we could but we always moved to slow to make it or they were too far gone for me to heal them without the white light.

Eventually we made it Marrero, the neighborhood that leads to Huey P. Long Bridge to Metairie and Kenner, and other east cities where we just came from. I knew of several people in the Marrero area, a fake uncle, an old playmate, and my mother’s father. We had very minimum contact over the years, not because anything was wrong with him, just the unease around the situation.

Originally, my grandfather was married to my nana but the marriage wasn’t legal because he was already married to one of my aunt’s mother and had to divorce her, which soon after, he got into heavy drugs and disappeared for some time, then returned divorce and never married my nana, but he didn’t leave her alone with the child. He had intended to raise my mother by himself, but my nana took her and her parents adopted my mother, which made her my nana’s sister/daughter. My grandfather had been married to big, Amazonian woman named Mary.

My grandfather had many, many children with some seeking him out and others wanting not to do with him. However, my mother was raised in both families until she was maybe twelve and didn’t return to the Champagne’s until she was eighteen. The reason why it was strange to be over there, was because his wife never liked my mother and I looked exactly like her and on most levels act like her, making me a constant reminder of whose child came first and who will inherit the most of the Champagne land.

My grandfather’s house, down the street from my father’s grandmother whose house was in shambles, but it wasn’t in very good condition to begin with, was still standing with its bid black iron gates standing tall and imposing with the artful twisted work of iron that my grandfather did himself. I don’t know what style the house is called, but I’ll go with a ranch style of muted brown and red bricks with copper colored door.

The copper door was broken down with claw marks almost shredding it in half. My eyes burned at the threat of tears. I wasn’t terribly close to the man, but it was the only family I had that wasn’t anything but crocodile tears.

We entered the battered house with guns, swords, and magic ready. The first thing I smelled was fire and smoke. My whole body tingled with warmth as it did when my mother was around. Bodies of demons and humans littered the floor alike. The demons bodies smoked and burned still probably by a Witch’s magic.

I didn’t notice the blood until Sandra put her arm out in front of me to keep me from walking into it. The blood began at my feet as though someone tried reach out to escape the attack. The blood pooled around a young woman in the fetal position. Her face had been clawed off and her entrails spilled out from her sides. Gross curiosity took control of me as I knelt down to see what she was trying to protect. Her body was stiff, but still warm. I pulled her arms apart and fought to urge to vomit right there. I waited to turn around to do that.

Jensen pulled me away immediately, cradling my head in his chest. “Jesus, why would you look at that?” Sandra had turned away, staring outside to avoid the sight as Casey simply glued his eyes to the floor. Dancer blinked at the body, as if he was looking at something else entirely.

When I pulled her arms apart her baby spilled out from her chest, he nearly cut to ribbons by one scratch of a demon. He was only partially healed which meant only one thing. I knew the woman and her baby. She shared the same hair, complexion, and eye color, as does my mother. People called them twins when they were together even though my mother is nearly a decade older than she is. My Aunt was a Healer and the demons had hunted her and her child for it.

“Are you okay?” He asked.

I nodded and stood up again, regretting it but I kept moving. “Come on.”

The house wasn’t painfully huge but spacious, one story with four bedrooms, two bathroom, washroom, living room, dining room, kitchen, and a den. We came in through den that was next to the kitchen. The bedrooms were off to the left down the hallway and on your right was the sealed off den and then my aunt’s room, her brother’s, their older sister’s, and finally my grandfather’s room.

As soon as I touched the door handle, the same warmth that greeted me was radiating from the door. Light, pure and white, poured from the door with a fierce wind knocked us off our feet. I shielded my eyes from the nearly blinding light, trying to see through it. My grandfather rocked the body of my dead uncle in his arms, trying to resurrect him.

His head snapped forward, and with a snarl he said, “Damn you, demon!” With a flip of his wrist, he hurled a soccer ball sized orb of light at me, sending me against the wall. “How dare you step foot in my house?!” He threw another one at me, but Hellion swatted it away with his sword.

“Stop it!” I barked. “Papa, it’s me, Aiden.”

He blinked for a minute, scrutinizing my features. The rage on his face changed slipped into sorrow as he fell to his knees, letting out an animal like whine. “Oh god, I never thought this would happen.”

Everyone went to rush him but I waved them off, he wasn’t dangerous anymore. “Papa, what happened?”

My grandfather looked at me but saw something else. “I’m so sorry Aiden. I’m sorry you have to face this alone.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

Papa just sat there shaking his head until he looked up at me again. “I knew I should’ve never let you mother be with the Florence’s. It’s nearly impossible to have a child between our kinds but here you are, Aiden, a Knight and an Innocent.”

Jensen frowned, understanding the depth of his words. “Do you know what’s actually going on?”

Papa looked at Jensen in disdain, baring his teeth at him. “Another Knight,” he said with such venom. “No, not a Knight, you don’t have a Sword yet.”

I kneeled closer to him, lifting his head to meet my eyes. “Papa, you have to tell me what’s going on?”

Papa just slid away from me with his eyes looking at the mark on my forehead. “Aiden, find Walter, he’s the only of our kind that has escaped.”

I shook my head, patting his shoulder, trying to get him to come back to reality. “Can’t you help us, Papa?”

Papa sniffed again, wiping away his tears with a bloody hand. “No, I can’t. I’m just so tired, Aiden. I’m sorry wasn’t there for you, you just don’t know how hard it was being here.” He let out another broken sob, kissing my uncle on his head. “I saw all them die in front of my eyes. I can’t take it anymore, too much blood.” He looked back up at me so fast he scared me. “What about Alice? Is she…”

I smiled lightly, squeezing his shoulder. “She’s safe. She’s like you, Papa.”

All of the coloring in his face went out like a light. “What? Then you’re…Knight ex Innocenti. By God’s light and blood, I’m sorry.”

“What? Why are you sorry?” I said, nearly shaking him. What the fuck is wrong with him? “You have to tell me what’s going on.”

I felt a sharp stab in my head and my stomach clinch, but before I could let out a warning, the demon had leaped from the darkness behind him, sinking his teeth into my grandfather’s neck. Papa let out a howl so fierce I thought he had turned feral on us. Suddenly, the sneaking demon screamed, fighting to get off him.

“Haha,” Papa chuckled, holding the demon to his skin as it sizzled from sheer touch. “You thought you could take a full grown Innocent?” He sneered. It was like his hands were burners on a stove and the demon was a frying pan. He turned back to me with the strangest, most serene smile on his face. “Go to Walter, he’ll tell you what to do.” Hellion moved to kill the demon but Papa put out his hand and snarled, “Be gone, shade!” A small beam of light hit Hellion, banishing him. White-hot pain flashed through my whole being. Whatever that light was, it was poisonous to Hellion and myself.

I pushed through the pain, rising to my feet. “Papa, stop!”

He looked at me again, shook his head, and looked up at the sky. He whispered something into the air and the light swallowed his form whole but grew brighter. “Find Walter.”

“Where?” I wanted to scream for him to stop, knowing what he was doing to himself, but I couldn’t stop myself from looking at it and admire how devastatingly beautiful it was.

By this time, I could tell if he actually said something or was it just my imagination whispering, “Where stars collide.”

Have you ever seen a star die? I would expect these two events to look similar with the other. The light grew brighter, so bright that it tries to eradicate everything around with light and itself. Sandra erected a shield before the light killed us but it nearly buckled under the pressure.

Soon enough, the light ran itself out, leaving nothing of my papa, his house or the houses around it. The Champagne line of Innocents was gone except for two, Walter and my mother. I never knew a Walter, and I didn’t know where stars collide or even if stars have ever collided with one another. I had more questions than answers now, but I didn’t care at the moment.

I couldn’t describe the crushing ache in my chest as the light faded from my vision, leaving nothing but ash from my grandfather’s. I felt it then, something trying to escape my mouth until a small moan came out. It grew into a wail, barely expressing the storm I had in my chest. Everything seemed so unreal at this moment, but I felt my body begin to scramble towards where my grandfather once laid.

Someone held me back as I moved, securing me in place. I turned my fury and sorrow towards Jensen, raising my hands up at him in the classic stop gesture and light exploded from my fingertips, tossing him back like a hurricane. I forgot him and the others the next moment as I started shifting through the ashes. The pain didn’t go away; it kept gnawing at me as I found nothing but soot.

My mouth dried and my chest tightened against my hammering heart. I had lost one of the only people who cared about me.

“Aiden, look out!

Another demon lord stood in front of me, staring directly into my eyes. I waited for him to make a move towards me, but the wind decided to blow and reveal his face, tanned and adorned with a mark of crescent moon and dark, dark brown eyes.

“Carlisle?”