ARIA
"What about the Hunters? Do they have powers? Are they genetic?"
"Yes, but very rare. Hunters are in fact sired, not birthed. The Church makes hunters of their own choosing, not random, but these are usually humans who are talented–mostly in the military and some, scientists. Rare ones come from those who first hand witnessed the existence of otherworlders. But these were normally victims of an attack, or got enslaved, or turned against their will."
"By sire?" I asked, a horrible thought coming into mind. "You mean..."
"Yes." Dad said, sighing. He turned, pulling off his shirt and showing me his back. There was a strange insignia inked on the shoulder part of his back, on the right side. A celtic cross with a circle around the middle part–where the two thick decorated lines intersect. The tattoo looked like it was done a minute ago, with the lines and the details inked so fresh and dark. "Hunters are humans turned half-immortals through a secret ritual. This insignia symbolizes your role as a Hunter, as well as your contract. Once it's done, it cannot be removed. It's made by ancient magic, and the ink used is enchanted. Once you become half-immortal, the ritual will alter the physiology of your body, making you faster and stronger than humans. There are some of us, when turned, awaken their individual gift that had been lying dormant in their genes, but those Hunters are very, very rare."
"And you?" I asked.
A corner of Dad's mouth curled into a small smirk. "I can manipulate minds."
"What about Mom?"
"She can communicate with animals and monsters, and can form a soul contract to make them her servants."
"What, like a beast tamer?"
"Exactly."
"How come she's affected by whatever's making people forget? About, you know, Liv?"
"Those with abilities that manipulate the mind nullify any power with the same effect. Brainwashing and illusions don't work on me, I'm immune."
"And what about me?" I asked. "Why am I not affected? Is it because I inherited your power?"
"Possibly, yes."
"Holy shit." I breathed. I turned around, hundreds of questions flooding my head. If that's the case, why can I alter my body as I wish? I haven't thought about manipulating other people before because I assumed my power only affects physically.
I contemplate whether to ask the question for a moment before deciding to ask in another way. "Is it possible to have two types of abilities? Like, I don't know, inherit both parents' gifts?"
Dad leveled me with a look, "If that's possible, then arranged marriages, and possibly, continuous breeding with gifted Hunters would be a thing. Women who awaken their power would be invaluable, and they could be subjected to give birth to Hunters, sharing her with other males to cross-breed powers."
I shuddered at the thought. "So, it's not possible?"
"That's right."
"So, what happens now?"
At this point, I don't know if I should break down or have a massive panic attack or what. Because of everything that I just found out, I'm glad I didn't react too much to it–because at this point, I don't need to give Dad another reason to not involve me with this part of him or withhold any information from me.
But holy heck! I just found out vampires, witches, and demons actually existed! This is some Twilight shit—minus the extreme level of threat and the corny romcom. I mean, it's a miracle I haven't even fainted!
"Now that I know this stuff and I potentially have awakened my gift," I said. "Does that mean I turned during the time I got comatosed?"
"There is a possibility. However, the process of your transformation is very unique. So rare, there's not a single record in the organization of this transition happening. If The Church were to get a hold of this, you may be subjected to thorough investigation. There are a lot of possibilities for how and why you don't need to undergo the secret ritual to become immortal. It is possible that the fact you were at the fore-front of the disaster and your near death experience might have triggered your change."
"Okay, so how do we confirm that I became a Hunter?"
I watched Dad pulling out another thing from his briefcase. It was a silver dagger that looked like it had been forged centuries ago by Roman hands. The blade was a well-made steel, slightly bent near the tip, and looked sharp as scalpel. The handle and the scabbard were decorated with red stones that looked like rubies.
"Here," he said, laying the dagger on the table. "If you can wield this without triggering the curse, that means you are one now."
I gaped at the knife. "I'm sorry, did you just say 'curse'?"
"That's right." He gestured at the dagger like it's ordinary. "Go on. Try holding it."
"What?! Are you crazy?! I'm not touching that!" Even for my dad, this is too much. I can already see the headlines in my head: Miracle girl turned dragon, cursed by dagger, killed by dad.
"Well, that's it then." He made for the door. "I guess I'll see you when I get back."
"Wait! Alright, I'll do it." I yelled, grabbing the dagger to show my point. It was a reckless move, I know. But I was desperate to prove myself, so I didn't hesitate the second time. But now that I've done it, I feel myself refusing to breathe, just waiting for a reaction–a migraine or an excruciating pain or possibly my soul being sucked into one of those fancy stones.
Nothing happened. The dagger just felt right in my hand. Huh, no dragons. Somehow, that's disappointing. Does thinking that way make me crazy? I turned to my dad, "Now, what?"
"Fascinating," he muttered in amazement. "You really got made into a half-immortal."
"What happens now?"
His eyes darted back to my face, "You can join me. But I'm not letting you go out without any training."
"What?! I'm a black-belt at mixed martial arts and national champion at gymnastics three times in a row!"
"That's different. You can't kill a demon just by kicking at its groin. You need to know how to use swords and guns."
"Oh." A slow grin of mad delight creeped into my face. "Cool! Do we start now?"
Dad rolled his eyes at me, "Go get changed. I'll take you to a place in the woods where me and your mother train."
"Wow, we have a secret training field here?"
"It's actually a dome that's enchanted with my gift, so the people here would only see it as a small tree-clad hill. But, yes."
"That's awesome. Who's gonna tell Mom?"
Dad froze in his tracks. A glimmer of fear in his expression. He sighed heavily, his shoulders slumped as if the fate of the world had been dumped on his shoulders. "I think we should go tomorrow. I'll break the news to your mother." he said, trudging back towards the house like a dog who had done something wrong and his owner just called for him.
Maybe I should stay in the barn for a little while longer. Maybe just until the screaming stops.
Let's just do that.