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A New Myth (cont.)

The food, as could only be expected from a chef hired to work for Mr. Irons, was excellent. Hector had even helped himself to a second, large helping of the sage and cornbread stuffing, although, to Hector, it wasn'’t quite the right shade of green. Ian, too, ate heartily as he told Hector the story of the Witchblade and its Wielders, of how Kenneth Irons had acquired it and worn it so many years ago, and of how it had found Sara Pezzini. Hector noted the slightly different tone in Ian's voice when he talked about Sara. In another time, Hector would have joked about it, but now he could only concentrate on what Ian had not said. Ian had said nothing of his own experience with the Witchblade, except that it had been Irons who had taught him everything he knew about it. He had not said that it could transform into different weapons (even though Hector was now sure it could) nor how to defend against it.

Ian stared at his plate, frowning, perhaps considering his next words. “"Father and I would often talk about the Witchblade the way you and I have tonight.”"

Ian stopped then, his expression somewhat melancholy, then he laughed bitterly looking at Hector once again. “"I thought he told me everything he knew about the Witchblade. It was our secret, our sacred trust. I thought that in this one thing there were no lies or secrets between us, but somehow I think there is much he didn’'t tell me about the Witchblade.”"

“"Is there anything you aren’'t telling me about it? Or about Sara?”"

“"Sara has the will to control the Blade, but no discipline. She has the warrior spirit but no formal training. In that, she is like Kikuchiyo.”"

Hector now recalled Kikuchiyo as one of The Seven Samurai and wondered if Ian was comparing Sara to the character in the film or to the dog.

“"And you, Ian? What is your role in all this?”"

“"Father always told me that I was to protect the Wielder and, because he had worn it, I felt my duty was to protect him as well."” He paused as a little smile crossed his face. "“One Christmas when I was a boy I received a sheriff’'s outfit - a holster with toy six-shooters, a black cowboy hat and a shiny silver badge. I wore it all the time, pretending to protect Father from ‘bad’ things, yearning to learn to fight properly, to be a great warrior...so that one day I could protect both the Witchblade Wielder and Father.”"

So, Ian was a modern day Josey Wales -– the servant, the perfect self-sacrificing knight.

“"If you wish,”" Ian continued hesitantly, “"you can be Sara’'s instructor, her mentor, as you were mine.”"

Hector as Mentor to Sara Pezzini? "“You are confusing your myths, Ian. Sara Pezzini is no Telemachus.”"

Ian leaned forward, his words urgent. "“She is also not Sehren. And you are not Enkidu.”"

“"You assigned me that role, Ian. You know the myth cannot change!”"

Hector took two deep breaths, trying to remain calm. Talking of the myth could only serve to feed his bloodlust. The evening so far had been too normal, too much like two old friends simply sharing a meal, the illusion easily shattered by the programming. Hector wanted to live in that fantasy for as long as possible, if only for this one evening.

When Hector finally spoke, his tone was gentle as if he spoke to a child. "“Ian, we did not receive the same programming. You cannot help me.”"

“"You'’re wrong,”" Ian replied sternly. "“I know what they did to us. You and I had our psyches altered in the same manner. Our...perceptions of ourselves were enhanced - –exaggerated– so that we interpret reality and respond to it based on those perceptions...so that we function instinctively based on how we see ourselves –- you as the hero in the myth and me as...”"

“"The dutiful son and servant,"” Hector finished for him.

“"Yes."” A hint of a smile crossed Ian’'s face. “"But now, I am master and servant.”"

Ian looked sideways, towards a corner of the room. Hector followed Ian'’s gaze to Kikuchiyo who lay nearby, gnawing at a bone and oblivious to the humans.

“"It'’s...strange to be Kiku’'s master. It’'s not at all what I expected."” Another ghost of smile. “"He fancies himself my protector, I think.”"

Ian turned to Hector again. “"Don'’t you see, Hector? You can fight your programming as I have fought mine."”

Hector shook his head. He didn’'t want to believe that was possible, because it would be too painful if he failed once again to undo his programming.

And there was Ian with his sad eyes and his need to polish his tarnished honor. In those eyes was the hope Hector did not allow himself to have anymore.

“"I evolved,"” Ian said. "“So can you. But only if you wish it.”"

Hector opened his mouth to speak then closed it without saying anything. Had he grown to like the myth? Had he failed to undo the programming so many times before because he had not really wished to be free of the myth? And if he let it go, what did he have?

“"Without the myth, what is there to believe in?"” Hector could hear the uncertainty –- or was that fear? -– in his own voice.

Ian clasped Hector’'s shoulder. "“Believe in our friendship, Hector.”"

Then, in a voice so soft that Hector had to strain to hear, Ian added, "“Unless... our friendship is still only a favor to Mr. Irons.”"

Hector tried to hide his surprise that Ian knew about Hector’'s compact with Irons, but Ian must have noticed it because he explained, “"I heard the two of you in the barracks that day.”"

Irons'’ cultured, paternal voice, "Moby“, I have a favor to ask of you. Ian is a special young man and because of that he has led a very...solitary life. I’ am afraid he may not get along with the others. I would appreciate it if you were to...befriend him.”"

"“No, Ian. Our friendship was forged on much more than obligation.”"

Ian smiled, giving Hector’'s shoulder another squeeze. “"Then you will stay?”"

Hector nodded, remembering Ian’'s humble request that day in the loft. "“Let us make a new myth."”

**Fin**

just fixing some typos today...don't mind me...

just fixing the apostrophes & quotation marks which disappeared after the transition to Yuku.