'Tap, tap, tap, tap…'
The sound of Helena's foot tapping on the floor incessantly echoed in the small waiting room, decorated with plush sofas and paintings created by the world's top artists.
Her hands were on her legs, still, at first glance, but with each second that passed, they twitched, itching to go back to her mouth.
Biting nails and tapping her foot: these were two things that she had always done whenever she was unhappy about something, or anxious, and right now, it could be said that she felt both in equal measures as she waited to meet her own father.
It was something to be said about the relationship that she had with him as she had had to make an appointment, and was still made to wait for a half-hour as he talked to someone inside his office. The receptionist's face had been apologetic, and although Helena had been tempted to shout at her, she had reined that impulse in, knowing that the woman wasn't responsible in any way for the man that her father was.
She loved him, of course, but there were just some things that she could never bring herself to like. And of course, one of them…was his overwhelming sense of duty for the government, and mankind.
When the bell finally rung in the room, she jumped to her feet and almost tripped on the carpet as she made her way to the door. She stopped there and took a few moments to draw in a deep breath and smooth down her clothes. She had chosen to wear a short skirt and a cream-colored shirt, both professionally tailored to her size, and after checking that her hair was still firmly tucked into her bun, she opened the door and stepped inside.
General Kenneth was one of the most respected individuals in the government, holding a post that was difficult to explain, yet indispensable to the entire structure of the organization. To this day, she wasn't really clear regarding what he did, but his expertise lay in various fields that allowed him to deal with any problem that came in front of him, any day.
The tasks varied, too. Once, she had seen him go on a hunt for a certain person in the slums of the New World. She still remembered how naturally he had worn those burgers rags, and because she had been a little girl, she had cried, thinking that all of their wealth had left them and they would now have to live with nothing.
On another occasion, she had seen him personally enter an odyssey where he claimed that all he had done was perform a job as a shopkeeper, but from the way that he had planned it with over 50 government employees, she had known that something else was afoot, but she had never been able to find out what.
The man was easily over 6 feet tall, with hair cropped in the style of the military. It was graying at the edges but still black, for the most part, and his mustache was perfectly trimmed, giving him the appearance of an actual general instead of one who had retired long back.
His aged, yet strong face broke into a grin when he saw her enter. Standing up from his chair, he walked forward and quickly enveloped her in the hug, and even though she tried to return it with the same enthusiasm, she failed.
He frowned as he took a step back, looking her over with those piercing eyes. Motioning her to one of the chairs in front of his teakwood table, he sat back in his seat and said, "Sorry about the wait. The mayor of— ah, never mind. It was just some jumped-up leader who wanted things to be done that are simply impossible. I would have thrown him out as soon as it was time to meet you…but that would have caused more problems than it was worth. And I know why you're here, Helena. I'm sorry…but nothing can be done."
She had fidgeted as he said the first part, not caring about why she had had to wait as there was always some or the other reason. Yet, when she heard what he said at the end, her entire body sagged as if the strength had gone out of her, and with her shoulders stooped, she shook, trying to stop the tears that came to her eyes.
After watching her for a few moments, her father pursed his lips and stood up. He first walked in her direction, as if intending to console her, but he stopped on the way, never having been comfortable with social interactions that went beyond typical bureaucratic manoeuvering. With a sigh, he walked to the floor to ceiling stained glass window at the corner of the room, and while standing there, he spoke with a tightness that was surely apparent on his face.
"The Dragon. If it was anyone else, I could have tried something…but that man stands too high up for anyone like me to even hope to bother him. It is a boon that he seldom intervenes in the world, except to choose odysseys that he takes part in secretly…so the entire government was abuzz when he bought the channel. He has always been someone who paid a lot of attention to his pride, so of course, he did it so that no one would be able to see his disciples lose. Oh, they're supposed to be taking part in the odyssey with their identities hidden…but after they reveal themselves, wouldn't it be obvious that they were the ones who were defeated in such a manner by a newbie? They would never live it down, and the factions that oppose him would have a field day. No… I guess that there was no way that he was going to sit still. I should have noticed what was going to happen beforehand…but I was busy with other things. I'm sorry, but…"
"You're always sorry! You were sorry when you were never there when I was growing up! You were sorry when you didn't talk to me for weeks after mom died! You were even sorry when she died because you weren't there, because you wouldn't…ARGH! I hate you! I HATE YOU!"
Screaming the last part out, Helena got up from the chair so violently that it flew back. She stormed out of the room, the last thing she saw being her father's shaking shoulders, and his head that was bent. She found herself wondering whether he was crying…but she squashed that thought, convincing herself that he was surely not capable of such a thing.
In the waiting room, she collapsed against the wall and slid down to her knees. A small part of her wondered why she cared so much about what had happened. She tried to tell herself that it was because it was a great opportunity that had been snatched away at the last moment… but if so, it didn't match with what she felt at all. No, her emotions had been stirred in a way that had happened only a couple of times before in her life, and as she searched inwardly for a reason, the image of Al at the end of the odyssey flashed in her mind.
It lingered, for a few seconds, but she shoved it away and struggled to the feet.
She had never been one to mope, or cry like a little girl when she didn't have her way. No, she had always been a lioness who grabbed what she wanted, and even though she couldn't do that now, did it make sense for her to collapse in such a manner that helped nobody?
Wiping away the tears, Helena looked at herself in the mirror and saw that her make-up was ruined. A few hairs were sticking out of the bun, and with a snarl, she took the entire thing apart and let her golden hair found her shoulders.
By the time she walked out, her emotions were firmly in hand. By now, Al would be getting out of the odyssey, and she had to be there to break the bad news to him.
She wondered if he would hate her because she hadn't been able to do anything. Half of her was convinced that he would be in the right if that happened. But the other half was so distressed by this idea that it threatened to break her down once more.
'No…whatever has to happen, will happen. All I can do is face it head-on.'
With this thought in her mind and her head held high, Helena walked on.