Chapter Three
The Spirit
Janus knelt down, closed his eyes, and repeated a few words in his native language.
He felt a little cold, as a cool, gentle breeze blew over him. Then sunlight struck his face, as he opened his eyes to find himself back in the park where he had started. The flames around him were only flickering embers now. Though two passersby glance over at Janus with curiosity and suspicion, they keep their distance as Janus scans the surrounding area, looking for raised, elevated landforms, and spotting a nearby hill.
He made his way back through the dimming streets, his hood up. Keeping a watchful guard on his satchel at all times, Janus wandered back through the streets, his gaze low so as not to be noticed. He would occasionally spot a few flowers, here and there, and he’d pick out the ones that he liked, stuffing them in his pockets for later use.
As the sun dipped just past the hill he’d carefully noted, he carefully calculated the time it’d take to walk there – well within reason – and arrived back at the Constantine residence, well-lit from within. Janus stepped onto the porch and knocked on the door, as his acute hearing cued him in to a scramble from inside the house. Finally, the door creaked open at Ben Constantine’s hand.
“Mr. Janus! Where have you been?” the boy cried, as Janus stepped into the house.
“Like I told you before, I had a mistake I had to correct. Thankfully, all is well now,” Janus informed, noticing only Mrs. Constantine in the living room.
“Here, Mr. Janus,” Ben beckoned, handing Janus one of the figures that still littered the dining table. “You want to play?”
“In a moment,” Janus replied, gently setting the figure to the side. “Where is your father? And your sister?”
“Oh, Kara’s doing something in her room” – Ben pointed to a nearby, shut door – “and Dad…”
“Ryan’s been working all day. He wants to be left alone right now,” Mrs. Constantine stated, sighing as she walked over to the table.
“All day?” Janus asked, concerned.
Mrs. Constantine nodded. “Apparently he’s got something very important due tomorrow, and he can’t stop, not even for one second. This isn’t right, but… none of us want to disturb him.”
“I’ll see what I can do, in a moment,” Janus replied, looking around the table for a pot or something of that kind. The only thing that he could spot was a nearly empty cup, and he pointed to it, asking, “I am sorry, but would you mind if I… borrowed this? I shall need it to keep these flowers for a moment or two.”
“Oh. Of course,” Mrs. Constantine answered, and Janus nodded, pulling the bundles of partially crushed flowers from his pocket and stuffing them into the cup. “I don’t think that’s how you do it, though. Not if you want to keep those flowers alive.”
“I never said I wanted them alive,” Janus pointed out, before giving Mrs. Constantine a thin smile. “In any case, please keep these here. I will need them soon.”
“Alright,” Mrs. Constantine agreed, as Janus headed towards the stairs, before Ben stopped him.
“What are those flowers for, Mr. Janus?” Ben asked, holding up his figure again. “More figures?”
“Oh, yes. Thank you for making these for Ben,” Mrs. Constantine added with a smile. “He hasn’t had some new ones in a while, and it was very kind of you to do that for him.”
“It was my pleasure making them. I hope they inspire you, Ben,” Janus wished, turning back to the young Constantine. “And to answer your question, the flowers are for… another purpose. You will see in time.”
He gestured around to the relatively dull Constantine home, devoid of much decoration or color, before heading up the stairs. Slowly opening the door, Janus quietly stepped into the brand new Constantine office — I hope Mr. Constantine is pleased with this improved workspace. It may allow him to be more efficient, after all, which I think is something he desperately needs.
Yet where he expected some calm, steady working, Janus instead heard Mr. Constantine punching the keys furiously. Next to a window with some simulated landscape displayed, the Constantine rewrote lines of code in seconds, before pressing a button, and then – most curiously – picking up a controller of some sort.
Mr. Constantine mashed the buttons and fiddled with the sticks, while the figure on-screen acted as if it was moving, yet without actually moving anywhere at all. As the Constantine tried to maneuver his avatar around some unforeseen, invisible obstacle, Janus stepped right next to him, asking, “Mind if I help, Mr. Constantine?”
Startled, Mr. Constantine leapt away from Janus, before shouting, “YOU?!”
Before Janus could respond, Mr. Constantine hurled his controller at the fugitive, sending it straight for Janus’ face. But before it could strike, Janus threw up his hands, and pointed a finger at the projectile, which seemed to flicker with purple light for just a moment. Then, its trajectory drastically shifted, and it slammed into the wall harmlessly as Janus stumbled back.
“GET OUT!” Mr. Constantine bellowed, trying to shove Janus towards the door.
Janus, however, calmly stood his ground, peering over at the computer, recognizing now the function of the simulation window. “You make… I believe your wife called it a video game. You are testing it right now.”
“You were supposed to be gone! Now, I have to finish this, so get out!” Mr. Constantine urged, still trying to push Janus out.
“This is why you are distant from your family. You need to finish all this, before some… deadline. Tomorrow, if I recall correctly?” Janus observed, noting at once a couple of flaws in the code. He approached the computer, and corrected them with a few pecks at the keyboard.
“Yes! Which is why I need you gone, so you don’t bother me, so I can get this done, so that I don’t get fired!” Mr. Constantine ranted, tearing Janus away from the keyboard. “Get out of my house — and while you’re at it, tell that family of mine to stay out of my way! I can’t have any more disruptions! I have to spend every second I have left working on this. I don’t care what they think!”
So… so, so unlike home. This kind of behaviour would never have been tolerated in El’evey’kideum. To shun family like so… to be forced to shun family like so. There is something deeply wrong here, Janus thought, maintaining a calm facade. And yet, thanks to all my studies under the Maester…
“I can help,” Janus declared.
