Chapter Six
"He is all yours now," the second phantom stated, calmly overlooking the tragic figure of the old man bending over the lifeless body of his son. "Remember, you are not to influence him – you must only present things as they are. The decision must be his."
"I understand."
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Diego opened his eyes to find himself seated against a wall in a strange room filled with bright light, the source of which he could not see. He looked around in bewilderment, trying to understand how he could have gotten to be in this place, whatever it was. There was no sign of doors or windows or anything, for that matter, that would indicate human presence. And the light that filled the space all around him seemed to be so dense that he could almost touch it like something tangible.
"Welcome, Diego," the voice, it seemed, was coming right out of the very light itself.
"Who is out there?" Diego asked, peering into the thick brightness around him.
A moment later a dense cloud separated from the all-enveloping light and began to darken, slowly taking a shape of a tall cloaked figure of a man.
Diego recoiled as much as the wall let him, looking fearfully into the steely gray eyes of the stranger and his deathly pale face set off by the black hood of the cloak.
"My apologies," the stranger said, "I keep forgetting that you, humans, cannot see us in our usual state."
"Who are you?" Diego asked quietly.
"In your human terms, I guess, I am a servant of what you would call Fate," the stranger answered calmly and added, "You should not be afraid. You cannot be harmed anymore … at least, not here."
A terrifying supposition spawned in the mind of the young caballero. He rose to his feet and spoke slowly, trying to take control of his trembling voice. "So I am dead, and you … you are Death?"
The stranger smiled, shaking his head. "No. Death, or Fate, or whatever you, humans, call it, has many servants. I am simply one of them, a phantom, if you will. But you are not dead. At least not until you have said yes."
"Yes to what?"
"Let me explain," the phantom started. "There are many servants just like me, and we are assigned to watch over humans from time to time. I, for example, was assigned to watch over your family. We observe humans and then bring our reports to the Council. The Council then decides whether or not to interfere, to change the fate given to them. The change can be both for the good and for the bad – depending upon the report."
"I still do not under—" Diego started.
"We have become very disappointed with humans," the phantom continued, ignoring his anxious listener. "Over the centuries, all we have observed, with few exceptions, were lies, treachery, envy, hatred, greed, and senseless, monstrous killings. And only very few times have we found people who were genuinely willing to sacrifice everything they had, including their lives, for the good of others. You are one of them. You have given up your wish for quiet family life, your happiness, your pride, to risk your life for the cause that is perhaps not worth any of your sacrifices."
"Why do you say it is not worth it?" Diego stared into the cold unfeeling eyes of the phantom.
"Refresh my memory," the ghostly apparition retorted bitterly, "but haven’t you just been shot in the back by a man whose life you so nobly spared?"
Diego winced at the reminder, suddenly becoming aware of the dull pain by his heart.
"Oh, yes, I forgot to mention," the phantom added, "since you are not yet dead by our standards, you might still be sensitive to any outside influences – pain, weather, and such. It will pass though, if you accept death."
Diego sighed and turned away, biting his lower lip. He was confused, lost, unsure what to say or think. He felt the cloaked figure move behind him, and soon he found himself again looking at the pale face of the phantom.
"You wish to know why you are here?"
Diego nodded silently, lowering his eyes and looking sullenly into nothingness.
The phantom squinted, "The Council wanted to have you questioned. They wanted to know why you do what you do and whether or not you would stop if you knew more."
Diego looked up, a silent question in his eyes.
The phantom merely shook his head as if saying "let me finish – the questions can come later." "However," he continued, "we cannot be seen by mortals … living mortals."
"Are you saying that you had me killed just so that we could have this conversation?" a note of anger and irritation was evident in Diego’s voice.
The phantom frowned and seemed to have grown even paler – if that were possible. But the cold, even timbre of his voice did not change as he spoke. "Not exactly. Those like me – we do not kill, we simply do not have that power. Our job, on the contrary, is sort of to look after you until Death decides that it is time. Then we simply do not interfere and let the events run their course." He fell silent for a while, letting the words sink in, and then continued, "The council was interested in monitoring your behavior since it was so different from most other humans. Finally, it was decided that you needed a test."
"A test?"
"Yes. And I was told not to interfere."
"So what about my father and Victor?"
The phantom lowered his eyelids for a moment and then stared right back into the worried hazel eyes of the young man. Diego started, feeling the cold stare penetrate deep into his very soul, almost hypnotizing him.
"Victor has served his purpose," the phantom said evenly in the same unemotional voice. "His life was ended. And your father will not be harmed." He fell silent again and then added in a quieter voice, "Depending upon the results of your test, who knows, he might even enjoy bringing up your grandchildren."
Diego swallowed hard – his anger and frustration gone, replaced by a tingling sensation somewhere in his stomach.
"What is this test you are talking about?" he asked in a voice of a man resolved to plunge headlong into the fearful unknown.
A semblance of a smile touched the phantom’s grayish lips. He held out his pale semi-transparent hand. "Come. I will show you."
Chapter Seven
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