Darklight 6: Darkbirth

by Forrest, Bella

  Above us, the tear appeared as Dorian and I had seen it at the edge of the Higher Plane. It crackled in the sky with shocking energy. The hairs on my arms stood up as I watched, surprised. Were we actually doing this? Perhaps whatever—us, the universe, or both of us—called up Lanzon’s phantom was giving us abilities beyond emotional weather patterns. The arbiters with human-like faces stared up with wide eyes at the sight. The light orbs flickered in alarming patterns, dimming and suddenly bursting with light in a way I had yet to understand. Had they truly not seen this before? They were higher beings… they claimed to know everything.

  "Look at it closely," Dorian said harshly. “As I understand it, the original purpose of the arbiters was to maintain the balance of dark and light energy in the universe. You were meant to shepherd the lower planes toward something better."

  My chest stung with the controlled ferocity of his tone. Underneath his surface calm, he was pissed that the arbiters who were supposed to be doing this duty had hoisted it off themselves so easily, placing it on him and his species, who had then been persecuted mercilessly for it across the Immortal and Mortal Planes. It was an injustice to have an uncaring Higher Plane, especially one that made a system and then left it to figure itself out, not stepping in even when things were going to hell. His capacity for diplomacy in the face of this impressed me beyond measure.

  "I don't know why you stepped away, but the system you designed to replace you isn't working. It has been disrupted. You were meant to cultivate a balance, and yet the destruction of vampires is leading to more death and crime between mortals in their own plane. Darkness is getting out of control in the lower planes. All of this combines to create a wave of darkness, a wave of Irrikus's design. He is using the tear to expand his reach and cause more damage. Lyra and I and our allies in the lower planes have been doing your work for you for months now. Don’t misunderstand me—the responsibility to care for the lower planes was placed on you by the universe, and you should be the ones to fix the tear and restore balance. However, if you consider it to no longer be your place to step in and mediate directly, you need to allow Lyra, me, and our allies to continue our important work. We are willing to be the ones to deal with this issue once and for all. We aren't asking for anything more than a moment of your infinite time to present this urgent case. The least we ask of you is to hear us out and let us return to the lower planes to continue our fight. The most we ask is for aid in that struggle once you realize that it truly affects you just as much as us."

  Faces turned from the crackling image of the tear to stare at Dorian, transfixed.

  "We have souls to save and a wave of darkness to stop," Dorian said firmly. I stepped forward, my hand brushing his. An electric spark of our combined strength rushed between us. I released the image of the tear. The illusions vanished, and the misty backdrop evaporated slowly. I grabbed Dorian's hand in mine and squeezed it, trying to communicate just how proud of him I was through the small gesture.

  The audience fell into a great hush. For several moments, nobody spoke. Our tale had been told, and our case had been made. The arbiters had finally listened to us. It was a relief. My shoulders relaxed as I looked out into the crowd, knowing that we couldn’t have done any more than we had. The chatter started as a low murmur like the sound of cicadas, the undertones urgent. Figures turned to consult orbs.

  My inner hope soared. Yes, they had truly heard us. We had their attention, thanks to our powerful presentation and maybe the help of the universe allowing us to showcase our memories. If the arbiters chose to align with us and help us fix the tear, it would make quashing the plans of the Immortal Council much easier. The possibilities in my mind expanded outward, infinite with opportunity. These beings clearly had powers beyond our comprehension.

  I glanced at Ruk, but he was just staring unemotionally out into the crowd. My joy dampened slightly. Wasn't he the least bit moved by our speech? I shook my head. Cynicism is all he has left now. Still, a small worry nagged at the back of my mind.

  Although not physically tired, I leaned against Dorian slightly, enjoying the sensation of having him next to me. His fingers gently brushed the inside of my wrist as a sweet reminder that he was here. We had to support one another in these moments. The Higher Plane had drained something from us—emotionally, I was absolutely wiped out. The sky lightened above us as our emotions settled and faded.

  Un let out something between an awkward grunt and a sigh. I was struck again by how the human sounds the arbiters mimicked weren’t quite accurate, adding to the overall impression of their being slightly… strange. "We need to vote now." He spoke with an annoyance I couldn’t understand. Hadn't he been impacted at all by our presentation?

  Xiu glowed stronger, apparently in protest. “We must present new arguments with the new evidence," she pushed back. "We need to ask our jury what they think about all this."

  A pale teal orb floated up from its seat in the amphitheater. "Clearly, the tear warrants further study." Her voice was tinged with genuine concern, although it was more subtle than I thought was warranted. Maybe that's as good as it gets here in the Higher Plane.

  "Does it?" challenged another in physical form, her long hair resembling dozens of kinds of seaweed.

  A humanoid figure surged to his feet. "Were you even looking at it? We haven't bothered to visit it in far too long, and look what’s happened. It’s worse than we thought, and it’s growing."

  Fiz drew his long fingers down his chin, staring at me from his seat right in the middle of the crowd. "The Separation means that we no longer technically have a duty to the rest of the universe and certainly not to the lower planes. We created a system that should have sustained itself. Surely it’s not our fault if the species we placed within the system have found ways to disrupt it? This isn't really our problem…" His voice trailed off, as if he’s wasn’t totally convinced himself.

  Another orb of sage green jumped on that line of reasoning. "You're right. It shouldn’t be our problem, but it’s beginning to encroach on the Higher Plane. We should at least take time to examine it. If what these vampires say is true, then perhaps they have an argument we should consider."

  Throughout the arguments that unfolded, Xiu’s color ebbed and flowed. She zipped an inch closer to any arbiter who talked, likely considering and mulling over their words. She had yet to really voice her objections, and when she disagreed, it was in a low murmur.

  Un, on the other hand, furrowed his brow so tightly I thought his skin might rip on the sides. He shook his head at some points, in the small way that most arbiters did. Clear disdain and aggravation radiated off him. The sky above us once again danced with rainbow mists. The arbiters, so good at containing their emotions, appeared to show greater expression when challenged with surprising information.

  I can't imagine they get surprises often, except for some upsets during the Games…

  A brief quiet fell.

  "Anyone else?" Xiu prodded. Nobody objected or offered another opinion.

  A ghostly sensation swept the back of my neck. Un's sharp gaze focused on my hands, which were clasped with Dorian's.

  "You two," he said in a low, slow voice. "Are you involved together in a romantic sense?"

  Dorian and I glanced at one another, unsure what to say. We were holding hands, and the entire jury had seen our memories mingling together. Surely they must've felt some of the love and loyalty we had for one another in those images.

  I furrowed my brow as I searched the faces of the crowd. Why was Un asking about our relationship when we were debating the fate of the universe?

  "Yes." I kept my reply simple. I quirked one brow. “I’m not sure how that’s relevant right now, but yes we are.”

  Un took a small step forward. "And how have you managed to circumnavigate the restrictions we placed on your species to stop you from… intermingling?" His flat white eyes unsettled me.

  I swore my heart stopped beating for a minute. The arbiters had set the re
striction on the vampire caste? They’re the source of the curse. I can’t believe it. Dorian sucked in a sharp breath beside me.

  "We have not found a cure," Dorian admitted carefully, recovering his composure quickly. "We're hoping to spend our lives together, but the tear is our priority right now. The greater good is more important than our personal happiness."

  Un let out the smallest withering scoff before turning on his heel and stalking away from us. He released a breathy exhale. "You see?" His long fingers splayed, beseeching. My stomach clenched with dread. "They've broken the fundamental rules! We set specific regulations for the vampire caste, which these two have broken, and they have just openly admitted to trying to work around those restrictions. We made the rules for a reason, for the good of all those in the lower planes. Our system was infallible. They say we have erred, and yet they revolt against the well-reasoned stipulations we set for their kinds. They speak of the imbalance down below, placing blame at our feet, but they are part of the reason the universe is out of balance." Un played up to the crowd by lifting a fist into the air. "They've proven themselves to be just like Ruk with their disregard for any order."

  Anger flared inside me, caused by the shock of the curse's origin and strengthened by the fact that Un was trying to make us look like criminals. Of all the rules and responsibilities for Un to be particular about, why this one? Was it just an opportunity for him to discredit us, or was there some deeper reason for the curse that we weren’t aware of yet? Either way, I didn’t see how this was relevant to whether or not the arbiters were going to do something about the tear.

  Un charged on, urgency pulsing in his voice. "Without rules, there would be no order in the universe! How can two creatures with no regard for order help our kind, the moral arbiters of this great existence, to restore it? It is no surprise that they were unable to create balance. They revolt against it with their very union. This is the truth, arbiters. These two, like Ruk, are only out for themselves."

  Animated chatter shot through the crowd. My skin grew hot under the renewed focus of the arbiters. This speech from Un appeared to have changed everything. My short-lived hope vanished, leaving behind only dread and anger. I looked at Dorian. His eyes held deep disappointment. How had Un whipped the crowd into a frenzy so quickly?

  Ruk's words of warning about fixing a mess by returning home came back to me from our time in the Hive. I thought he’d been referencing the Immortals, but… was this what he’d meant?

  Xiu flew above the crowd. "Quiet, everyone. Let me remind the jury that the restriction itself was supposed to dissuade vampires from remaining in the Mortal Plane and crossbreeding. This is one couple in extraordinary circumstances and could even be viewed as a symptom of how the system in the lower planes is failing. That settles the matter, in my opinion. If we decide to revisit the subject, this group will have to hold another meeting at a later time. For now, we need to stay on the topic of sentencing now that the accused have given their primary testimony. The voting stage remains for us to spend some time on that." She spoke with a severity that caught everyone's attention.

  Jia's presence on the stage reminded me that it was Xiu who'd been watching us this entire time. Had Xiu begun to sympathize with us, or was this merely her way of ensuring fairness in the sentencing? I was a ship hopelessly lost at sea in this place. None of their rules made sense to me. How could we know who to trust after Ruk betrayed us?

  "We will briefly discuss the new evidence before privately taking a vote," Xiu said evenly. "Go to the judgment section at the top of the amphitheater." The arbiters silently fell into action, floating or walking up the steps to the top section. A darkly humorous place for judgment, considering that our jurors now literally looked down on us the way they had been doing figuratively since we arrived.

  My nerves squeezed with unease. What was going to happen to us? I honestly couldn’t guess which way it was going to go.

  The light orbs toward the bottom of the amphitheater began to make their way up the stairs. I noticed them swiveling in our direction and swelling with light. When they turned away, murmuring to each other, they shrank. I puzzled over this as the arbiters conferred, huddling together in a far more private manner than before.

  Finally, Xiu floated back toward us, Un walking behind her. Xiu’s light intensified as she floated in front of us. Did this mean she was focusing on me? Perhaps they dim when they're reflecting or in thought. There was no way to know for sure, but it was something to watch out for.

  "The vote is in." Xiu glowed brighter.

  My heart hammering, I looked to Ruk and Dorian, both of whom were wearing grim expressions.

  Our sentencing had arrived.

  Chapter Thirteen

  "I am aware that your current predicament is not your fault," Xiu breathed. It was sympathetic, nearly apologetic.

  My heart pounded in my chest, knowing that such a preamble could only mean bad news would follow.

  Xiu continued. "Ruk brought you here, and I'm afraid that we have rules in the Higher Plane. Without these rules, our worlds would descend into chaos.” Would they, though? I thought upholding the rules had been this group’s entire job until they squirmed out of it. “Arbiters are not supposed to interact with lower beings, and lower beings were never supposed to set foot in our plane. You must understand, we require the debts Ruk accrued for himself to be repaid, a process you have become a part of by joining with him."

  "The tear—" Dorian tried to cut in, but Xiu quickly spoke over him.

  "I know. You presented a very troubling case, and it is arguably a cause for concern. The tear might grow into something worth considering at some point, but the majority of arbiters voted against involving ourselves. Whatever is happening in the lower planes, and what might occur with the tear, are irrelevant to the rules we set for ourselves when we drew up the framework, laws, and process that allowed us to execute the Separation.”

  I blinked in shock, struck with yet another unexpected piece of information. From everything we had heard so far about the Separation, the arbiters had made it sound like a natural event or something beyond their control. I’d thought they’d created the system in the Immortal Plane out of necessity before they were removed from the plane or had been forced to draw back for some reason. But now little things were coming together, the most crucial being what Ruk had said about how following through on the Separation had been their choice, that they were going to sever the connection with the lower planes anyway. The arbiters had deliberately planned it. They had all just decided that they didn’t want the responsibility anymore and had left the lower planes. I tried to breathe to tamp down the anger that flared up in me, not wanting to stain the mist red with my rage. All their talk of rules and taking responsibility was meaningless, self-congratulatory garbage.

  I couldn’t tell if Xiu could sense my shift in emotion, but her tone became firmer, and her color turned darker.

  “The existence of a good cause—of fighting for the balance between light and dark—doesn't mean that one can merely ignore punishment for breaking the rules,” she said. “Whether you two lower beings had good intentions or not, you must first face the consequences for Ruk's choices and your own disruptive actions in the Higher Plane."

  "Consequences are necessary for order," Un agreed readily. "I'm pleased that the jury has chosen wisely. We must uphold rules. Ruk's debts are massive, and we simply can't allow either Ruk or these two lower beings to return to the lower planes before they are paid. Because of your pact, you two are now bound to Ruk. As unfortunate as that may be, you voluntarily gave your light energy to power the portal and therefore came to this plane of your own volition.”

  I wanted to glare at Un, my frustration flaring inside me like the ghost of the acidic anger I’d experienced with dark energy, but outright hostility would not serve us well. I fought to keep my face composed even as I felt fear begin to claw at my throat.

  “Give me my sentence," Ruk said, narrowing his
eyes.

  Un squared his shoulders, obviously relishing the moment. "You must fulfill your debt to the Higher Plane and all the arbiters who reside here. Since you bound these two lower beings to you, all three of you are now responsible for paying it back."

  The air left my lungs. We were trapped here? It had been a fear I hadn’t let myself fully consider, but now the reality crashed over me like a freezing wave. It was one thing to be stuck here because no one was interested in helping us leave—it was quite another to be deliberately and knowingly stopped from leaving until we paid a debt. Dorian bit his fangs together, keeping a snarl at bay. Un looked blankly at us, our reactions clearly having little effect on him.

  "The debt could be collected more quickly if we unraveled the energy of the two lower beings and counted it toward the total," Un said to Ruk as if we weren’t standing right there. His flat white eyes settled on me. "They have an impressive amount of energy for mortals. It would remove the lower beings from the Higher Plane as well, which addresses the unnatural violation against the Mandate of Secrecy. They’re both mortal. They would die soon, anyway.”

  Fear, icy cold, filled me. I took an instinctive step toward Dorian, and he wrapped his arm around me. I could feel the tension in his body as he prepared to fight or flee as necessary. I readied myself to run through the Higher Plane. If I transported us far enough with the power of my thoughts, then we could prevent or at least delay them killing us.

  "That's not fair," I cried, a protective panic rushing through my veins. I could hear my own heart pounding. They desired our soul energy more than offering any compassion? Their rules were conveniently designed to only benefit them. I hardly called that justice. Dorian's hand went for my arm, and his grip bordered on vise-like. How could these monsters claim to be of a higher nature? All our hard work to convince the arbiters had been wasted. Wild, stormy tendrils snatched at the arbiters from the trembling sky.