Emery felt himself slipping back in time. Then it was daytime. The sun made dappled patterns on the ground with over-arching trees. He knew he was still amid the same bushes but there was no tiled walkway before him, only a simple dirt path. Raised voices attracted his attention and he saw that his parents were fighting, again.

A small part of him realized that these weren’t his parents. He was within a memory. That part began taking in small details. The dress she wore was of a style that Emery’s mother had worn when he was a young boy. She had later, before they left for school, decided that the dress should be tailored, as it was out of date. This small detail placed the memory at a time at least a decade previous.

The man raised a hand and struck the woman, knocking her to the ground. When she fell, not far from his hiding place, she struck her head on a rock. She looked up at him with lifeless eyes for a moment before he launched himself at the man.

Great gouges of blood erupted from the man’s arms and Emery realized he had claws. Then gloved hands were pulling him off the man – his father.

“Freakish little… thing,” the man snapped. “Put him away… somewhere. Do something with – with her.”

“Sir,” the voice of the man hold Emery said. Emery, or the being he was inhabiting for the memory, struggled to free himself but he was carried inside.

Then Emery, attached to the location, not the person, floated free and watched as workers methodically dismembered the woman’s body and buried it along what would soon be the garden path. Emery focused his mind’s eyes on the face of the man as he watched the proceedings. Then he was back I the present.

“The governor,” he hissed. Shivering, Emery stood. He looked up at a tower room, similar to the one he often stargazed in at home. For a moment, glowing eyes met his, then they were gone.

Emery swallowed heavily, then dashed back to the terrace. He had even more questions but one very important thing was now clear.