The corner of Brandubh’s mouth briefly turned upward in a familiar half smile – one that had clearly been inherited by his son. “Then there is hope yet,” he declared as he stood upright.
Skye struggled with what she was seeing and sensing in Brandubh. There was a kindness and light within him that would not survive the passage of time. Disturbingly, it did not feel at all disingenuous. There was no undercurrent of danger. No sense of an ulterior motive. Just… openness. Her defensive instincts were unnervingly at ease. She wished Drostan were there. She trusted her own feelings on the matter, but Brandubh was a master manipulator not to be underestimated. She did not want to trust her perceptions alone. A second opinion would go a long way to easing her doubts.
Brandubh’s eyes slid over her features and body curiously. His head occasionally tilted and jerked to the side in the odd, twitchy manner that made his avian origins apparent. “Such beauty. Such tremendous power, young one,” he marveled. “You have traversed time, summoned me to this incredible place…” He turned to peer around in awestricken wonder. “…and created it entirely on your own. Had Sorcha known your intentions, she surely would have prevented a meeting between us by any means necessary.”
At that, Brandubh’s brows drew together worriedly. His expression shifted to concern as he looked back at her. Skye held his gaze intensely and pressed her lips together, but pointedly said nothing in reply.
“Oh, but you are well aware of this,” Brandubh realized in astonishment. He took a few steps closer. “And yet, you still called for me.” Clearly delighted by her defiance of Sorcha despite the possible consequences, Brandubh’s half smile returned. He nodded in approval. “You have your father’s spirit, then. And, thankfully, enough power to preserve your free will. This bodes well, sweet, young Goddess. I…” he began, then paused, frowning before asking, “May I know your name?”
Skye considered her response carefully. Would it cause an issue for him to know her name? Would he be even more dangerous to her future-self if he went into the game armed with that knowledge? She reminded herself that all of this, everything she was doing here, had already happened in her time. And in her time, Brandubh never sought out a child of her bloodline named Skye. Which would mean – if she did tell him her name now – he must agree to relinquishing his memories.
“My name is Skye,” she answered finally.
Brandubh’s face lit up in a beautiful grin. “Skye,” he repeated, and his eyes rolled closed with pleasure at the small victory. Sighing, he turned his face upward to bask in the warmth of the entirely-convincing illusion of sunlight. It was not until that precise moment that she appreciated how remarkable this realm must be for him. Skye cursed her stupidity.
“How long?” she whispered.
Brandubh did not need to ask what she meant. “130 years,” he answered softly.
Skye winced, feeling sympathetic for this creature despite herself. 130 years since last he saw the sun – artificial or otherwise. She frowned at that as she recalled, “In my time, you can create dreamscapes. Vivid, convincing dreamscapes. I have been there with you and –”
“Oh?” Brandubh breathed in intrigue. He opened his intense blue eyes as he turned back to her. Flashing a wide, dazzling smile that showed off a few too many teeth, he asked in amusement, “Perhaps we are more than friend or foe, then?”
Skye elected to ignore his hopeful question, as well as the overwhelming resemblance between father and son, and pressed on with her point. “You can create realms based on your desires and control your surroundings. Why then do you not dream of this? The sun? The forest?”
“Being alive again?” Brandubh added sadly. He brought his abnormally-warm hand to his chest to feel the beating of his heart beneath his palm for the first time in more than a century. His expression became pained, and he closed his eyes for a moment to enjoy the fleeting sensation.
Skye was caught off guard. She had not realized… She must have added that feature to this realm without conscious thought. Her goal had been to put him at ease, after all.
With his hand still pressed to his chest, Brandubh slowly managed in a strained voice, “I cannot dream of these things for myself, young one. Sorcha took my ability to conjure such comforts. Her torments are as thorough as they are cruel.”
Skye frowned, mulling this over in silence until Brandubh spoke.
“But that is not why you have summoned me here, Skye. Nor why you conjured such a realm specifically designed to bring me comfort and earn my trust. Why have you called for me?” he asked, genuinely curious.
Skye met his gaze and nodded, getting to the point. “I was attacked by the Droch-draoidh,” she began and Brandubh’s posture instantly went rigid. “They sought to steal my power. Tried to carve it from my body. I escaped here to survive, to recover and gather my strength, but I cannot stay. I need to return to my time and fight them.”
“What is it you wish of me?” Brandubh asked quietly.
“I am not supposed to be here. You and I are not supposed to meet for…” she trailed off, deciding against giving him a number. “We are not supposed to have met yet,” she finished instead.
Noting her great reluctance to reveal how long of a wait lay before him, Brandubh’s features tensed.
“To preserve my future, before I leave, I must make everyone forget that I was here. Do you understand?” she asked hopefully.
Brandubh gave a solemn nod.
Skye smiled in relief. “But I cannot force you to relinquish your memories of my time here. And I do not want to have to force you to forget. And I definitely do not want Sorcha to… become involved.”
Brandubh studied her in silence. He narrowed his gaze on her thoughtfully. “You went freely into Faol Seunta. Freely to Sorcha.” His eyes widened. “You do not even know what happened in the beginning. Skye… why have I never told you the truth of your origins?”
“In my time, you are… very different,” she answered reluctantly. “Crueler. Darker. You have… done things… and caused things…” Her jaw flexed as she fought back memories. “You have been responsible – both directly and indirectly – for so much loss and suffering in my life, I…” She shook her head. “I do not have the words. I had never met you in person before I came here.”
Brandubh’s features went slack as he took an unsteady step away from her. He stared at her in disbelief for a moment, as if trying to gauge whether she was deceiving him. Finding only sincerity in her gaze, his expression shifted and softened into a look of pure devastation. His eyes welled with tears as he looked down to the ground.
“Then… I fail,” he whispered dejectedly. His brows drew together as his mind raced. His tearful eyes widened and went out of focus as the full weight of it settled on him. “I fail to withstand it all. I fail you both. I…” A tear slipped down his cheek and fell to the ground as his mouth worked soundlessly. He drew a tremulous gasp of a breath and blinked repeatedly. More tears fell as he shook his head and stated brokenly, “Everything I endured… and sacrificed… All my efforts… All of it… has been… and will be… for nothing.”
As if the wind was knocked from him, he collapsed heavily to his knees in the leaves. Without thinking, Skye was moving. Kneeling in front of him, she placed her hands gently beneath his square jaw and angled his face up so that she could look him in the eyes. She did not even understand what was grieving him so deeply, but she felt an instinctive desire to comfort him.
She did not anticipate, however, that touching him in this realm would grant a far deeper connection. She sucked in a startled breath as it overcame her. She ached at what she felt within him: Loneliness. Regret. Grief. Despair. All of it roiled in a raging sea of the same gnawing hunger for her power Ciaran experienced. The hunger was infinitely more intense in Brandubh. The starved and ravenous NEED he felt coursed through his veins, darkening his every thought. It was agonizing. Unrelenting. Every cell in his body was shrieking for her.
Skye did not even realize sh
e was weeping until she felt the tears sliding down her cheeks. Acting on instinct, she closed her eyes and pressed on into their link, wanting to understand. She slid into his memories, purposefully dodging those from his early days, allowing them all to whip past in a blur until she came upon one that provided her with answers safe to uncover.
Brandubh was feeding…
She could see the memory through his eyes, feel it as he did. The taste and scent of blood overtook her senses. And whereas it would have caused her to vomit in real life, experiencing these sensations as him was a different thing entirely.
In the memory, she moaned in time with him. The intense, short-lived relief he received by drawing the life force from a faceless mortal was intoxicating. Aside from the power he was siphoning, the simple sensation of warmth within his body was an ecstasy all its own. It caused his entire body to tremble and buzz with pleasure.
In his eagerness for more, he bit down harder, held on tighter. Sinew and tendons gave way beneath his fangs. Bones snapped under his crushing grip. Distantly, he felt pangs of remorse for the life he was taking, but it was all-but drowned out by the cacophony of his frantic need.
He had postponed feeding again… but refusing to feed the monster he was fast becoming only made it more voracious. He was past the point of control. His body had nearly failed him this time before the bloodlust overtook him.
All too soon, it was over. Skye could feel the desperation building in him anew as the blood flow slowed and eventually ceased entirely. It was not enough – not nearly enough. This poor substitute would keep him going, but it would not stop his hunger.
Nothing would ever stop his hunger.
Skye blinked away tears as she allowed the memory to recede.
“I fail you all, Skye. It was all for nothing. But… we have a chance here. Do you see?” Brandubh whispered pleadingly. “You cannot take my memories. You must allow me to spare you. I will end my life now, while I am still able to make such a choice.”
Skye flinched, wishing she could not feel the intensity of his sincerity buzzing beneath her fingertips. She was hooked up to him like some sort of celestial polygraph. Even in her dream realm she could hear the hiss of warning from the energies of the world. What he was suggesting was simply not possible. Whispers echoed in the wind forbidding it.
“You cannot do that,” Skye said firmly. “I should not even be here – your death in this time would change everything. It would derail the entire course of fate. It is too dangerous.”
“It is worth the risk,” Brandubh insisted ardently. “Your future will change. Your life will be rewritten – this time free of my doomed attempts at interference. It will provide at least a chance for things to be better for you. For all of you.”
Skye was astounded. All that she had seen, heard, and felt from this creature made absolutely no sense. Then again, she noted, she was having a hard time thinking clearly. She needed to let go of him and sever the inadvertent direct link between them. It felt as if her hands were magnetically drawn to his face. The pull was so strong, she could not bring herself to take them away. She struggled to wall up the overwhelming combination of their intense emotions. It was such a heady mixture. His hunger, sorrow, and anguish. Her compassion, sympathy, and the primal fury that had been on a slow simmer in her blood ever since she found that repressed memory in Faolan’s mind. Rage and suspicion were there, threatening to boil over if she was not careful.
Skye ran her fingertips down the sharp line of his square jaw, an instinctual motion which he leaned into appreciatively. His head tipped back, lips parted, and eyes rolled closed as his expression became one of pained longing. She felt a nearly irresistible urge to breathe her magic into him as she did Ciaran, to ease his suffering and sate his hunger. Had this been a comforting ritual for Brandubh with Sorcha? She could feel his hunger building stronger by the second.
Suddenly, she felt, rather than heard, an unexpected presence in the trees behind him. Her eyes darted toward the movement, and she was floored to find the black-haired woman watching them silently. This ‘spirit’, as he had called her in the future, had evidently been with him for at least the vast majority of his life and had somehow followed him into Skye’s realm.
Skye fought to find her voice and spoke loudly enough for her words to carry. “As much as I wish to hear it, you cannot tell me what happened in the beginning, Brandubh. Not now. I need to return to my time, and I cannot do so without Sorcha’s aid. I will connect with Her soon. I cannot guarantee I will be able to withhold all that I have seen. Anything vital that needs to remain hidden from Her, must remain hidden from me now.”
She held the black-haired woman’s vibrant green gaze intensely. The woman stared back at her longingly, clearly wishing to come closer, but she grudgingly nodded and faded from view.
Skye exhaled in relief.
Brandubh gazed up at Skye in awe. “You truly are nothing like Sorcha, are you? You are your own Goddess.”
“I am my own Goddess,” Skye confirmed. “Which is why, if what I am starting to suspect is true…” she began, but trailed off, clenching her jaw as she fought to repress, repress, repress, and prevent her brain from drawing the logical conclusions. Her insatiably curious mind was always in overdrive. It was nearly painful – having so many pieces of the puzzle in front of her yet making the conscious decision to NOT piece them together. She took a steadying breath as she assured, “Well, if it is true… once I hear it confirmed, I will be unable to hide that I know. I do not have it in me to mask my emotions and keep up such a guise.”
Brandubh eyed her in open wonder at her admission of such a noble flaw.
“At least tell me why you are so different in my time, if you can? What do you fail to withstand? You are so open here. Grounded. There you are… hollowed out. You become this terrible void filled with wrath and hate and cruelty. What happens to you?”
Brandubh leaned into her palms. He fought to avoid her gaze as he whispered miserably, “I was dying. You must understand that. I was running out of time. I had no other choice.”
Skye held her tongue and waited for him to go on.
He closed his eyes. “I will fail to withstand my hunger… and the spell.”
“The spell?” Skye repeated. “The curses from Sorcha?”
Brandubh shook his head. “No. The spell I willingly received from the Droch-draoidh,” he said bitterly. “I did not know what else to do. There was nowhere I could turn. Nowhere for us to hide. The Droch-draoidh sought me out, offered aid… I did not know their true motives or how deceitful they were. I was still so, so hopelessly naïve.” He grimaced at the memory. “To go on without Sorcha’s power, they told me that I would have no choice but to feed on the life energy of others, but they swore that I could take only what I needed. No one would ever have to die. I could even use my glamours to make it pleasurable for the mortals I claimed. It all sounded safe enough. I had only to bite the priests, to pass my affliction to them so that they might change it somehow and use it to their advantage…” He scoffed bitterly. “It was a trick. They took the bite, true enough, but they meant all along to make me a monster – a mindless creature they could control.” A dangerous smile came to his lips. He met Skye’s gaze, looking quite a bit like his future self as he recalled, “But it did not go according to their plans. I was supposed to turn the first time I fed. I did not. Because I was created by Sorcha’s own hands, I am stronger than they anticipated. Still, I am not entirely immune to the undisclosed effects of their spell – only resistant.”
He fell silent for a moment. His expression was sorrowful when he finally said, “If I do not feed, I die… and I lose a piece of myself every time I feed, Skye. It is a trap I have no choice but to fall deeper and deeper into. Their dark magic chips away at my soul, little by little. Like a river cutting through rock with time, their spell steadily erodes my ability to feel. To truly care for anything or anyone. It is insidious. It fans the flames of the absolute worst in me. Face
ts of my personality which had started out little more than sparks have become firestorms. Horrid, vicious acts I might have been capable of only in defense of those most beloved to me have become the cornerstones of my character. I have felt it growing worse of late – dulling my memories, hardening my heart… I have wondered: how long can I endure this torment? How long can I retain some semblance of my former self as I wait?” He laughed bitterly as he said, “From what you have described, it seems the answer is simply: ‘not long enough.’”
Skye finally managed to pull her hands free of him. She sat beside him, looking out into the forest as she digested all she had heard. “I must go home, Brandubh,” she insisted quietly. She watched as he looked away, unable to mask his disappointment. “You must allow me to lock away your memories of my time here, but… if I survive the battle I am heading back into, once it is safe, I swear I will speak with you there. I will listen to all that you have to say and then…” She swallowed hard and looked down at the ground between them. “And then I will decide how to proceed.”
Brandubh shook his head and stood, visibly distressed at the thought of their future meeting. “I fear you may not be safe with me in your time,” he said tearfully. He reached down, taking her hand and helping her back up onto her feet.
Skye accepted his aid and laughed grimly. “I worry about that, as well, but…” She studied his expression as she recalled, “…even there, you have never harmed me directly. You have focused your ire on those closest to me.”
“Desperation,” Brandubh declared. Lowering his gaze, his thick, wet lashes fluttered as he added ashamedly, “And… jealousy, no doubt. I am sorry that I have hurt you, Skye – directly or otherwise. It was never supposed to be that way. I do not know the precise monster I will become by your time, but… judging by the dark thoughts that swirl in my mind even now…”
He trailed off. His gaze wandered over her face and body unhurriedly. His eyes went out of focus in a manner eerily like his future self. His posture changed subtly, his shoulders lifting predatorially as his head lowered ever so slightly. It had an instantly chilling effect, like a dark cloud passing over the sun. It sent her instincts into high alert. She could almost feel the shift in him, feel the depravity and violence of the visions playing out in his mind. He took a slow, deliberate breath. Arching a graceful brow, he blinked repeatedly to clear his thoughts. His posture returned to normal, and just like that, the glimpse of his future monster was gone.
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