by Jamie Magee
I even told Drake then about the eyes. He just smirked and said I had good taste in girls, simply because that was the shade he was yearning for, the color of eyes that he never planned to hold in this life, at least not until he had conquered his demons.
One night, after one too many bottles of homemade wine, we joked that it was the same girl. In that wicked, drunken state, he made me vow that I would find his girl, too, and take her to some place where Donalt would never find her. He said that because he knew that whatever Donalt had planned for him would hurt her and surely destroy him.
I swore to help him and even tried to convince him to come home with me—to bring his family home. But he told me it was too late—Donalt was already in his soul, that he could feel the cold in his veins, snaking under his skin and coiling around his soul.
I didn’t believe him until I saw it with my own eyes. We were sleeping by the fire when he kicked a burning log on my pallet. I shot up, cursing him, but he was not there. Not all of him. His body was flexed, and what looked like blue veins were snaking across his skin. I woke him up, but that ice, that cold, didn’t leave him for hours.
Before we could talk about it or understand it, Brady showed up. He’d finally tracked me down. He kicked both our asses, then drug me home.
Weeks went by before I saw Drake again, and when I did, he wasn’t the same. His entire stance had changed. He wasn’t a teenage boy anymore; he was a prince that had been groomed to take over a dimension that only grew darker with each passing day.
He handed me the herbs that would help me hold on to my dreams, told me to always keep an eye out for the green-eyed girl that he would never search for, and wished me luck with my own pursuit for freedom. It was a sad goodbye, as sad as two guys that were too stubborn for their own good could be. Basically a nod and something like I’ll see in you in the next life.
I was sure Drake would hurt himself, or do something that would ensure his death.
Against my father’s rules, I went to Esterious nearly every day - at least every day there was a speech by Donalt. I wanted to make sure that Drake was still standing. I even plotted with Marc to break into that palace and take Drake’s family away. Marc wanted nothing more than to get inside those walls. He was sure his mother was trapped in there—and he was right. Of course, he didn’t realize that the buddy (I never told him I was trying to help Drake) I was trying to help out—save from himself—was his brother. We were daring to save the same people for different reasons.
Drake spotted me in the crowd about six months before I found Willow. A servant stopped me before I returned home and handed me a note that simply said: keep your promise, my fellow king.
Simple as that. He wanted me to build that world that we dreamed about during our rebellious youth.
I’d grown used to the emerald in Willow’s eyes, so when I saw her for the first time outside my dreams, I didn’t falter. I made an immediate vow to protect her, to never let her go. I did that with three simple words: I love you. Those words are a seal in my heritage and mean more than I could ever express without sounding like a fool. Seconds after that, she told me why she was scared. She told me Drake had come for her.
Raging fear slid through me. I felt my gut plummet to the ground. We were after the same girl. One girl—two boys’ dreams. I was nearly mad at her—felt like she had been cheating on this celestial love we had–but then I understood their dreams were nightmares, that he had been tormenting her. That almost sent me over the edge.
At first I told myself it was Donalt, that Drake would never do something like that, not my friend. But then I learned these nightmares had been going on her entire life. Hell, for all I knew, all those nights we camped side by side she was moving through both our minds. He was terrifying her, and I was easing her pain.
I wanted to hide Willow then, just stow her away long enough for me to figure out how manipulated both Drake and I had been. But I couldn’t. She had a family, a baby sister, a little girl that pulled at my soul the second my eyes landed on her. A little girl that bonded me and Willow in our first life.
I couldn’t bring myself to tell Willow that I knew Drake, to defend him. Her entire world was crumbling around her. Though she never clearly said it, I knew I was the only one she trusted at that moment, that I was her safe harbor, the dreams we had, the proof that we were both real, was what she was holding on to. She thought she’d reached the end of her fairy tale. Telling her that she could not be further from the truth, that I was just as dangerous as I was safe, was something that I did not have the strength to do. Instead, I let her live in that bliss, downplayed everything, and only told her of the heaven in my world, my heritage.
I knew that if she even began to fathom what Drake’s king Donalt could do, what my world would want us to do, she would fall apart. She was fragile, precious. Innocent to the knowledge of how dark the world could be.
More than once, I’ve thought about just telling her everything. But then all that she has been through, every brush with death, every glimpse of evil she’s seen comes to mind, and I can’t bring myself to cause her more fear, or even anger. No negative emotions at all.
Under it all, through all the hell, what Willow and I were forced to face over and over again was doubt. Thus far, each time we prevailed; yet, those victories have stained us, added an edge to the way we see things, feel things. We have no choice but to carry conviction with every word we speak. We’ve let fear seize the emotion between us. Each moment, we are preparing to fight the next person or circumstance that will try to come between us, as if we are both standing on the gallows with mere moments left in this life. Even though we know we should believe in eternity, we can’t, not after knowing that more than once we have been divided. Fooled.
Blue eyes.
When Drake and I went head-to-head over her, not in public but in our fierce one-on-one heated discussions, he wielded the color of Willow’s eyes as a weapon. He was convinced that I had found the wrong girl.
I didn’t care what color her eyes were. Eye color was the last thing I noticed when I pulled her into my arms. Drake did give me doubt, though; not a doubt that I loved her, but a doubt that stated there was a blue-eyed girl lost somewhere inside of her.
In my world, soul mates are precious. Finding them is an epic moment in our lives. When I’ve explained this heritage to others that I have met across the universe, they all have that same look in their eyes, that ‘you gotta be kidding me’ look.
I can almost recite the remarks that would follow that look. ‘But, how can you be sure?’ ‘You know the heart will fool you more than once in life.’ ‘What if you grab the wrong girl?’ That is when I carefully explain the ‘magic’ in finding a soul mate. Their skin hums against yours. Under your touch, there is the faintest glow, a glow that represents their soul reaching for yours. Recognition from the soul is the seal that removes all doubt. This bond is something that only the souls in love can see and feel.
It didn’t happen that way for me and Willow…
I was the only one—that I am aware of—that dreamed endlessly of their soul mate. I had literally spent every day with her, so I had no hesitation when I pulled Willow to me the first time I saw her in the flesh and spoke the vow.
Her skin did not hum, or glow; not the way I had heard or even felt in the others from my world. But deep down, I could swear I could feel it, feel her trying to reach out to me. To tell me she was hidden in that vessel, wrapped in a blanket of fear. It was almost like a supernatural distress call that I was feeling.
I’ve never told a soul that we lack that sacred Chara connection. I didn’t tell them at first because I didn’t want anyone to take her from me. I didn’t want to hear their words of doubt, or even warnings that the darkness was tempting me, using this precious soul to weaken me. Instead, I gave no reason to doubt that Landen Chambers, the now destined ruler of the Rampart Warriors, had found the ‘one.’
As far as I was concerned, what went on bet
ween me and Willow, either behind closed doors or in public, was our business and no one else’s. That was exactly what I said each time I was challenged for leading her so close to Drake Blakeshire. Each time, I gave in to her wish to heal the damned world of Esterious.
I suppose I didn’t realize that I was backing up their fairy tales, that I was giving them reason to believe that we were precisely who they assumed we were.
The only time I ever came close to feeling that vibration with Willow, that glow, is when our souls collide outside of our vessels. She never lets go of reality. Ever.
That glow, that hum…it comes from intense emotion. It comes from the center of the soul, its very essence.
Now she can only vaguely feel the emotions of others. You would think that would allow her to focus on her own soul, break free once and for all, but she’s just enjoying the silence…meaning right now, when she needs to drown in emotion, she is numb to the act.
I tried to keep her away from the others, thought I could hide us away for a week or so, maybe a shad longer with the time differences, but that changed last night. I felt a burn in my chest, one that had only surfaced now and again, which was now scorching me at a constant rate. I knew that meant Chara was calling me home, that I needed to figure out exactly what I was going to do next…
I cradled her in my arms and brought her home, laid her in our bed. I’ve sat here all night, glancing up at her after I turn each page in the books of lore that were written about our fate. Books that were given to me long ago. It was hard to focus on the words, though. I could feel the intent of the world around us, them preparing for a ceremony that would forevermore bind our souls—Willow’s and mine. Their deep-rooted beliefs were impacting the energy of this dimension. They were amplifying the strength of my insights; I was sure they were causing this burn in my chest to amplify, too. So far, Willow had yet to even stir with each wave of energy filled with intent that slammed into me. She couldn’t feel it, for if she did she would have awoken long ago and we would both be sorting through this path before us.
Energy is a wicked thing that has a habit of linking souls and ideas together, which might be why over the last few days I was beginning to constantly sense Phoenix, Drake, and Draven. We were all trying to unravel this curse of spells that was oddly pulling us together, that was putting the souls we cherished at risk, the universe we adored in peril.
In the stillness of dawn, she started to stir—she would wake soon.
Silently, I moved my body to her side. The wind from that rush of energy gently blew her dark hair out of her closed eyes. A ghostly smile emerged on my lips. She looked so innocent when she slept. She took my breath away with her classic beauty.
Gently, I rested my hands on her arms, rushing a numbing calm through her body, wanting so badly to feel her soul reach out for mine. To feel that connection that had all but left me starved.
I leaned in and let my lips rest on her forehead, breathing in that addictive aroma of lavender and warm honey. This girl was a drug to me, an insane addiction that nothing in this universe could equal.
I left a note by the bedside table, then in a flash I moved my body downstairs.
Phoenix was in the den with Skylynn, poring over a book of shadows and maps of the universe. I’d sensed Phoenix popping in and out for hours now. He was trying to keep his eye on my life and his at the same time. I guess he’d finally figured out that I might be right. We may be linked beyond the obvious. That would be a gift: knowing he would always be at my side.
I had to get through this Chara thing before I could explore any myths of a supernatural future that might have my and Phoenix’s name on it.
I couldn’t walk into that room with them. They would want answers, want to pull me away from this dimension. But…I didn’t have any answers just yet.
It was hard for me to be around Skylynn for any length of time. Our past was heavy on my mind. I was furious at myself for that. I hurt Skylynn, used her for gain, used her to appease my deepest desires. Her clear blue eyes and ‘don’t cross me’ attitude made that simple.
I had yet to process all the memories of my past that were now mine again; in truth, more came flooding in my mind each day. I knew, though. I knew that I had met Skylynn long before the time I had become a Phoenix, that I made a promise to protect her, that I promised her lover that I would do that.
I may have saved her life more times than I could count in our past, but I’d also held her flesh-to-flesh, and by holding her I betrayed a good friend that in this life has no memory of how honorable he was when I knew him: Aden. He has no memory of his pivotal role in my life. If it weren’t for Aden, I would have never found Willow in my first life. He guided me to this dark reality—in more ways than one.
In turn, I hurt his girl. When I broke that vow, I didn’t remember that it was his girl, the promises I made. That is the curse of The Fall, in combination with the curse of the Phoenix. When you pass through both of those curses, you lose memories. They are still in your soul, somewhere deep, but you forget them.
The thing is, Skylynn forgot, too. She forgot the details. When I knew her as a Phoenix, she was searching for an energy signature, an energy she felt bonded with. I helped her look, I really did, but I found Willow before she found Aden and I left her behind without even a parting glance.
At one time, Skylynn was innocent. Easy to read. Easy to trust. But because I left her behind, didn’t think twice about it, she’s become colder and even further away from what she wanted me to help her gain. Life. Him.
I’m indebted to her and Aden. It’s a debt that I have no idea how I will ever square. The spells that Skylynn bartered with, the same ones that inherently turned her into a shadowed soul, clearly state that no one can interfere, no one can just walk up to Aden and tell him she’s real. If they did—she will never come back, and he will live out each existence in agony, literally starved to death.
My goal back when I knew her was to gain enough power to break those spells that chained her. I never came close to finding enough energy to help her. I couldn’t find enough because she needed the power of the dead, or at least that was how I read it. She needed the power of grief. My power was with the living, in fear.
I told Phoenix we had to find a way around that, that we had to repay Skylynn for all that she had given us. He didn’t hesitate to agree. Though he still harbored enmity toward her for actions she had taken on this side of The Fall, Phoenix now knew that back then Skylynn’s lover, Aden, had saved my life, and in some way, recently, Skylynn had saved Phoenix’s soul mate.
All brothers have a bond, one that words cannot touch. It’s rich with honor. In my first existence, I was Phoenix’s younger brother. We’d walked through hell together, thousands of years side by side. Phoenix would honor and repay any debt our family had, twofold. That was the Falcon way.
For a moment, we both questioned if Aden had come to this side to bring us all back. For Aden was not only a member of The Selected in that past, he was a direct descendant of the leader of The Selected. No one knew the ins and outs of The Fall better than him.
Even if that were the case, Aden is blind now. We would have to awaken him before we could figure out if he indeed knew a way to reset this life course.
Phoenix told me he was going to focus on helping Skylynn, demanded that I let him do that. His excuse was that he didn’t think it was fair for Willow to watch me help her, but I knew underneath that excuse he felt indebted to Skylynn. I wouldn’t say that those two were best friends—not at all, they both enjoy arguing too much—but they were working together.
Even though I knew Phoenix would sense me leaving and surely follow me just to make sure I hadn’t gone off the deep end, the time alone between that point and this one was needed.
I flashed outside, next to my Jeep. Bad move; Brady was there.
He was on the porch last night when I came home. I didn’t say a word to him because I already knew what he was going to say. Instead, I
vanished from his sight and tucked Willow in.
One thing was certain about Brady: he didn’t give up easily. He had something to say, and he was going to get it off his chest.
“Where are you going, baby brother?” he said as he cocked his chin up.
These bonds right here—they twist my mind. One thought: I felt the honor and respect of the Falcons, of the life across The Fall in the bright reality. I understood this side as being a hell, that my mission was to end fear and bring my lover home.
The next thought: I was face-to-face with Brady, my older brother in this life. A man that had my back through all this hell and long before. A man that loved his world and his family, that put them first and foremost. The sight of him shifted me back to swallowing the fact that even if I was on the dark side of The Fall, this was home to me right now. This was a dimension that lore stated I created. It was a part of me that I could not turn my back on.
Two brothers, from different eras of life, forcing me to see through their eyes, asking for loyalty with a glance that I should never hesitate to grant.
“Not now.”
“You’ve been saying that for months. There’s no time left.”
“Did you forget who you are talking to? If I happen to run out of time, I’ll stop it.”
“That’s your backup plan? Freeze our lives in place?” he asked, lowering his chin to stare me down.
No one in my family was thrilled to discover that a large section of my past lives were in the role of a Phoenix. When those memories were unlocked and I naturally started to utilize those lost powers and temperament, they all cringed and looked for someone to blame, some way to bring me back around.
Chrispin tried to calm them down, assured them that I was still their Guardian and that I would rise soon. He had no doubt. Olivia had seen the flower on Willow’s chest, told him about it. That revelation had apparently spread across the family. My father knew about it now—the entire world did. That was the only omen they needed, the only one they wanted, the reason the intent of the dimension shifted so drastically, right now queued with Saturn’s approach.