Insomnia Strikes
I couldn’t sleep last night. I’m not sure why, but I know it wasn’t related to NaNoWriMo at all. The clock read 3:30am when I went to sleep and read 7:30am when the alarm went off. I’m surprised I’m still vertical after a full day’s work. I’m doubly surprised I composed 1,300 words and most of them I don’t hate. Hopefully you won’t hate them either.
“I take it that means something?” Joe asked.
“My dear boy!” Ignatius exclaimed in condescending alarm. “How is it you are so ignorant of the greatness you descended from?” Joe gave Ignatius a blank look. “By all accounts, and by all rights, your forefather was a pioneer with respect to understanding what makes us different. For instance, Helmut knew how to extend and prolong life.”
“Eating right and exercising daily?” Joe asked sarcastically.
“You mock me, boy? Do you not know that Helmut was 207 when he died?”
Joe looked warily at Ignatius. “So you say.”
“So everyone who knew him says.” Ignatius eyed Joe. “Do you doubt Helmut was 207 at his death, yet doubt not that Sikander, one of Helmut’s pupils, is still alive today, some seven centuries old?”
Joe sat upright. “What?” he exclaimed. “That’s nonsense.”
“I was wrong: you are not jaded. You are a fool,” Ignatius shook his head.
“Joe, what he says is true,” Katarina reassured Joe. “Helmut died — disappeared really — at the age of 207. He is credited at discovering a means of prolonging life beyond that of normal man. It is well known that Sikander was Helmut’s pupil for well over 70 years.”
“Furthermore Sikander is likely alive and well today as it was only a century ago — give or take a decade — that I broke ties with him,” Ignatius said. “He was doing quite well for himself then.”
“Wait. You expect me to believe there are immortals walking around and you are one of them?” Joe asked incredulous.
“Aye,” Ignatius responded in a terrible Scottish accent, “and we cut off each other’s head and become more powerful. Care to give it a go?”
Joe gave Ignatius a withering look.
“No one is immortal, Joe,” Katarina interjected. “Some of us are naturally gifted with incredibly long life. Others gain it through various ways and means. But all of us eventually die.”
“Except maybe Helmut,” Ignatius chimed in.
“Why? What new fiction are you going to spin for me this time?” Joe asked exasperated and a little worried that he was beginning to believe what they were telling him.
“No one has seen or recovered Helmut’s body. We say he died, but Katarina is right. He simply vanished one day. No one knows what happened, but it is assumed Sikander was behind it.”
“What? Why Sikander? I thought he was Helmut’s pupil. I thought he had a privileged relationship.”
Ignatius nodded, “That he did, until he crossed Helmut. The details are sketchy, and I only have Sikander’s side — which I’ve come to distrust — but it seems they came to a difference of opinion regarding ethics.”
“Ethics?” Joe asked.
Nodding Ignatius continued, “It seems Helmut was determined to keep most of what he knew between himself and God. Helmut judged the world, and mankind, corrupt. He was convinced that man was utterly wicked, and that if people were to unlock the secrets he had discovered the world would be utterly lost.”
“I take it Sikander thought otherwise?”
“Not exactly. Sikander agreed with Helmut for the most part. He’s not magnanimous by any stretch of the imagination. But where Helmut wanted to keep secrets Sikander thought it was his right to employ said secrets.”
“That doesn’t sound too unreasonable,” Joe opined.
“Ah, but Sikander was willing to share the benefits of these secrets in exchange for wealth, security, power, et cetera.”
“And Helmut disagreed of course,” Joe offered.
“At first it was just a lively debate between them. Helmut arguing that it was far better to do no harm and Sikander lauding the good that could be done for humanity. It was a healthy debate, and if Sikander is to be believed Helmut did concede on a few points and on occasion played the Good Samaritan.
“But eventually it was not enough for Sikander. He grew tired of the study for the sake of study, and he grew restless with having to wait and watch the world pass by while he and Helmut sat and did nothing to intervene. Finally he had enough and began amassing wealth and power. It wasn’t long — about a dozen years or so — that Helmut found out what Sikander had been doing, and he threw him out.”
“And they went to war right after that?” Joe guessed.
“No. The way Sikander tells it, Helmut didn’t know the extend of Sikander’s skill and abilities, nor his ambition. He had free reign for about 75 years, working unmolested. During that time he gained lands and a title of his own, and amassed a small army. For a man who grew up a serf to end up be a landed nobel with serfs of his own, well, he was quite pleased with himself. And yet I suppose he got a little greedy, for he desired the crown and began scheming a means of winning the king’s daughter.
“He claims the girl truly did love him of her own accord, insinuating of course he had nothing to do with artificially securing her affections. This I highly doubt for the Sikander I knew has a twisted cruelty about him that is unmistakable, and I suspect this in and of itself is what caused Helmut to intervene — I’ve always suspected the king knew Helmut and confided in him, but Sikander vehemently denies this.
“Nonetheless, Helmut seems to have secured some of Sikander’s private papers which were then remitted first to the king and then to the Pope. Sikander was accused and convicted of witchcraft. He lost his title, his lands, his honor and prestige, his wealth, and worst of all, all his possessions, his notes and research was burned. How he escaped the tribunal’s sentence of death he refused to tell me, but there are some who said he vanished from their presence, turned into a fine mist and blowing out a window.”
Joe sat, stunned at the tale, “If what you say is true then it would appear Sikander has a pretty good reason to hate Helmut, but I don’t see what that has to do with me.”
Katarina jumped in, “It is well known among our kind that Sikander swore an oath to gain revenge of Helmut. We all believed he accomplished this when Helmut disappeared; we assumed Helmut died at Sikander’s hands.”
“A fact which Sikander oddly never bragged about,” Ignatius added. “I’ve often wondered why he has continued to work in secret since it is assumed he bested his old master.”
“But why me? I’m obviously not Helmut.”
“Aren’t you?” Katarina asked pointedly.
Joe gave Katarina his best “have you lost your mind” look. “I think I would know if I were Helmut.”
“But think of it from Sikander’s point of view,” Katarina continued. “If he didn’t kill Helmut then he assumes Helmut lives. He comes across your design work which are clearly Helmut’s own work. Why would he not assume you are Helmut?”
“It does make sense,” Ignatius conceded.
“But I’m not Helmut,” Joe protested. “Surely there has to be a way I can prove that to him.”
“Like what, boy?” Ignatius asked. “Sikander has had centuries to plot and plan. What could you possibly do that he would not be able to counter with some argument?”
“Couldn’t we just do a DNA test or something?”
“We could,” Katarina agreed, “if we Helmut’s body. Which we don’t.”
Joe slumped feeling dejected. “So there’s this creepy old dude out there who thinks I’m his long-lost enemy whom he swore vengeance, and there’s nothing I can do?”
“Have you considered staying in Salem?” Ignatius asked with a sincerity new to Joe.
“It’s becoming more and more my only course of action. But if this Sikander is really as devious and powerful as you suggest would I even be safe in Salem?”
“Yes,” Katarina stated matter-of-factly.
“How can you be so sure?” Joe countered.
“Because,” Ignatius responded, “they’ve managed to keep me alive.”