Darklight 6: Darkbirth

by Forrest, Bella

  “I don’t know what’s going on, that’s for sure." I sighed wearily, frustrated at the universe's mysterious way of working. "But the universal power didn’t take over the projection of Lanzon until after we made it. Did something similar happen with our thoughts of our friends being taken over by this power to create a warning? Because if it’s just us making more projections, then why would we have manifested things that we don't want to be true?"

  Dorian considered this. "This plane could be pulling from our fears as easily as our hopes—maybe even more so, since they’re much more intense."

  "But what if this is real?" Panic squeezed my core. "The arbiters said they altered other species from the safety of this plane, which suggests they have a way to look into the other planes. Especially since they are supposedly overseers, right? What if we just got a glimpse through a kind of window and saw what’s happening in real-time down there?" There was really no way for us to tell if the visions were real or not, not on our own. I swiveled to find Jia staring up at me, his large eyes startlingly blue against the surrounding gray landscape. "What happened just now, Jia?"

  "It appears the universe responded to your desires to see your friends by creating a connection to the lower planes. It focused on beings you wanted to see," Jia replied simply, before lapsing into his signature silence.

  My heart stuttered in my chest. Laini…

  "So what we saw is true?" Dorian asked. His voice and expression were very controlled and even, which contrasted with the thick navy fog denoting his fear around us. The wind picked up, whipping my hair into my face.

  "Uncertain," Jia replied.

  I blinked, confused. "But you just said the universe showed it to us!"

  "There was a connection to the lower planes, but it was muddled. The image was much less clear than embedded memories I have of Xiu looking into the lower planes," he informed us. "The window the universe summoned for you did not correctly align the concept of time as it passes here with how time passes in the lower planes. You could have been seeing several different points in the present, past, or future of the Immortal and Mortal Planes. Some of those images might also have been influenced by your mental projections—your hopes, your worries—and reflected those rather than reality. Without more information, I cannot ascertain the truth of this display.”

  "We could have been seeing different points in time?" I puzzled over this. The idea of seeing events in the future made my head spin, but we needed to work with what we had. "Okay, well, we've never seen the uniforms that Bravi and the others were wearing in the first vision. That suggests that enough time has passed that they actually made uniforms for the Coalition."

  Dorian stared thoughtfully into the swirl of desiccated debris being drawn up into the swirl off the edge of the cliff. “Yes, it could be from the present, and we’ve been in the Higher Plane for far longer than we thought. With no way to measure time here, it could have been weeks down there, and we wouldn’t know. If Juneau is still around, he could've whipped up those vests quickly enough after they finished the battle."

  "The battle was likely over before we even left the Immortal Plane," I agreed, sitting cross-legged. "I mean, we flew for hours to get to the valley with the waterfalls. We left before everything was done, but things were definitely swinging in our favor toward the end of the battle when Ruk yanked us out of there." My mind flashed to the vision we’d had of Arlonne and Bryce. A zap of unsettling cold ran down my spine. “My more significant concern is where and when Bryce and Arlonne were.”

  Dorian, brow furrowing at my thought process, jumped on this. "Bryce and Arlonne weren't together when we left the Immortal Plane. Bryce was injured and went on ahead through the tear with the first wave of the evacuation, but Arlonne stayed behind to fight at the training camp. Bryce was all healed up when we saw him there, so if it’s real, some amount of time must have passed, or it’s from some point in the future that hasn’t happened yet." He paused for a moment, and I could tell something was working in that mind of his. "And then there were those trees at the end, which were definitely Immortal Plane trees. But wherever Bryce and Arlonne were, it was certainly in the Mortal Plane. I… I think we saw what has or will happen when the planes start to merge. Maybe it hasn’t happened yet. Either that or the tear is spreading faster than we predicted."

  I nodded, my thoughts racing. "What Jia said about time in the lower planes not lining up right with the lack of time here makes sense. The vision of Sike and Echen in the Hive is from the past. We destroyed the Hive and watched it drop into the lake. Or… what if we were thinking of Sike, but the universe showed us that because it couldn’t locate Sike in the present? What if it’s because he’s died?" My insides clenched with worry at that thought. I threw up my hands in frustration, trying to ignore the fear. "I mean, this could all be nonsense. What if it's all fake?"

  "Zach and Gina were in multiple scenes," Dorian noted. "But they looked different each time, suggesting multiple points of time and not, I suspect, in the correct order. We really need to figure out how much time has passed since we left."

  I crossed my arms tight across my chest. A little mist of anxious yellow appeared above me. I glared at it. Yes, universe, I see you showing me my emotions. Rest assured, I can freaking feel them right now. I focused on Jia because he was the only Higher Plane creature giving us straight answers as best he could.

  "Can you tell us how long we’ve been away from the lower planes?" I needed clarification if we were going to build a plan around what we’d just seen.

  "Uncertain," Jia replied mechanically. "The window was too muddled for me to discern more than I already told you. I do not possess the capacity to reach my senses into other planes to ascertain the veracity of what you have seen. Therefore, I cannot provide you with an answer to how long you have been in this plane. The arbiters can perhaps do such things if they so desire, but they have no interest in expending so much precious power on such an activity. They horde their power for their own projects."

  "I've noticed," Dorian muttered icily. "Great."

  "With enough energy, I might be able to help you get a sense of what's going on down there right now," someone said behind us in a low, almost apologetic tone. "It's my area of expertise… barriers between planes and all that. I might have enough energy to spend."

  I scrambled to my feet and turned sharply to find Ruk standing behind us. I’d recognized his voice, but the humble tone was new. I raised a brow, interested by both his proposition and his presence. I had no idea how long he'd been there, but it was apparent that he’d heard enough to get an idea about our current issue. I studied his pensive expression. His hands rested gently by his sides, palms facing us, as if to subconsciously say that he came in peace. I couldn’t say I was exactly thrilled to see him, but I was certainly intrigued by his change in attitude. There had been so much friction and animosity among the three of us since we’d arrived in the Higher Plane that I couldn’t help but hope this was some sort of olive branch on his part. If it was, I was willing to try and meet him halfway if it meant Dorian and I could get out of here and find out what was really happening with our friends.

  Dorian answered before I could. "Haven't you helped us enough? I can only assume you're going to try once again to turn this around into an opportunity to use our time and energy for your own ends." Even though I acknowledged the truth in his words, his tone was harsh.

  Instead of answering, Ruk stepped toward the edge of the cliff. He stared contemplatively down at the tear in the barriers and the whirling vortex. A weary shadow passed over his face.

  "So it's really happening." He shook his head sadly. "It's worse than I imagined. When I was in the lower planes—when I began my forced work with Irrikus and Sempre—I knew it was bad, but I didn’t think it was this bad. Even when I traveled through from the Mortal Plane with you two, I was still drained and didn’t get a sense of the true scale of the damage. I couldn’t even sense that the original catastrophic damage
had ripped up into the Higher Plane." He placed a hand to his chest, a slight tremor to his elegant fingers.

  "Are all the planes touching?” I asked, almost breathless.

  “The barriers are. They're mingling at this point, starting to pull the various planes across one another in a way that they never should. It's like a loose thread and needle slowly pulling three scraps of fabric into place. I can feel it. There's really just one tear, and the energy of the universe is draining into it, muddling all three planes together. Perhaps that's why the tear looks so severe now. All that energy has nowhere to go, and therefore it must move around in the Mortal and Immortal Planes where it has no business being. The universe never intended for this to happen. It's going to be very unpredictable down there for a while." He fell into incomprehensible muttering about energy, atoms, and magic.

  I studied him carefully. Although he claimed to have no remaining interest in lower beings, I saw otherwise. Those labs he’d built at his estate, which might have already been collapsed into energy, said that he used to be a creature of pure curiosity. Could we coax out that version of Ruk again?

  He slowed his speech as a new expression crossed his face. It was different from the cynical, almost feral look I'd seen before. It was a look that matched the sensation I’d felt during those moments when I’d pushed past the point of pure exhaustion and come out the other side. Hell, I'd seen it on Dorian after we glimpsed the tear in this plane for the first time.

  And in that emotion, I saw an opportunity to maybe help him recover some version of the curious rebel he had once been.

  "Can you do it?" I asked, keeping my tone soft so as not to startle him. "I want to know if you have the capacity to fix the damage that has been done to the tear. The other arbiters made it sound like you're the only one who worked on the barriers, that you’re the one who knows the most about them. Is that the case?”

  Ruk met my gaze. "If I had my energy back, then… perhaps. If I had the support of those in this plane, it would be much easier, but that was, is, and always will be impossible. I know their selfishness, partially because I lived it once. I saw it and was part of it when they—no, when we—proposed and embraced the concept of the Separation. That's why I wasn't surprised about the trial’s outcome, though I'm still angry at my peers." He glanced at both of us, a hint of shame darting over his face. He let out a raspy sigh. "I… apologize for what I did. For not being honest with you. For… misleading you at times or withholding useful information. I understand that I've made a mess of things. I thought my remaining power would be sufficient to protect us here, but it appears that wasn't the case."

  Dorian let out a long sigh. He glanced at me, his eyebrows rising in surprise, and I felt myself mirror his expression. He’s actually apologizing? It was such a shock that it nearly took all the satisfaction out of finally receiving it. Ruk had finally given us the apology we’d wanted all along. He forged on, however, before I could think of a reply.

  His tone was bitter now as he said, "But what I thought is meaningless, as are my feelings of regret about my previous actions. To what end are the two of you fighting? I've tried to advocate for the lower planes—for balance—for longer than your species have been keeping history books. And yet, across every plane, all I've seen is deep hypocrisy within each and every species. All we do is stumble about, seeking our own pleasure at the expense of others with no idea of the heavy fate that hangs over our heads. There is such profound evil in this world. I feel the roots of it deep within the universe, which is sinking into darkness and despair because of the everyday actions of each and every being across all the planes. When the end comes for us all, maybe it will be for the best." He shook his head. "I watched for so long and see so little to redeem in the planes. Or within myself."

  "You have been poorly treated for far too long, but you can’t choose to look the other way and let things collapse. Not now," Dorian cut in, his voice urgent and earnest, but with a hint of frustration. "You may not have as much power as you once did, but you still potentially have the ability to save us or damn us all, Gate Maker." He paused. “If you don't do what you can to fix this, what makes you any better than the others who aren't doing anything?”

  "Stop calling me Gate Maker," Ruk snapped. "Why does it have to be me? I've done my part. I made the damn gates between the barriers. I did my work. I perfected the barrier, worked to ensure the balance, helped your species by creating those portals before your parents or your grandparents or their grandparents were even born! I was there to guide the first vampires through the first stone circle. I showed them how to use their power, taught them how their senses made them so unique in the caste system. I tried and tried to keep the balance for hundreds of years after my own people turned their backs on the lower planes, thinking their system to be flawlessly designed. It was not, as we have seen over and over again. The balance between light and darkness requires constant attention and care to be properly maintained, but they refuse to see that. And look where all my effort got me. I spent nine hundred years imprisoned. I was stripped of my energy, my abilities, my creativity. Now I'm useless in my own home. And the one creature that mattered most to me? They took her, too.” He gave us a look I could only describe as desperate. “Don't you understand? I needed to come back here to finish fixing her."

  There she was again, the mysterious woman in Ruk’s past. We had to know about her. Ruk, who kept his cards close to his heart, might finally show his hand. Who is she?

  "She's been waiting this whole time. For over nine hundred years." His words shook with emotion. "And it's been so long since I locked the door to this plane behind me, stupidly thinking that I could slip back through without them noticing…"

  Dorian sighed, softening with the compassion I so admired him for. "We all have loved ones, Ruk. We all want to run straight back into their arms. Some of them are dead, and we’ll never be able to do that again. And it’s sometimes hard to keep going when you don’t see a reason for it. When everything seems so overwhelmingly dark that you think you might drown in it. There is an unknowable amount of work to be done, but we have to keep going because it's the right thing to do. Because it’s ultimately not about us as individuals, but about allowing life to continue for all."

  My heart warmed upon hearing Dorian's speech, but there was something else we needed to address. I caught Dorian’s eye, letting him know I wanted to say something of my own to Ruk. He quieted, eyeing me curiously.

  "Who are you talking about, Ruk?" I asked. “This ‘her’? Why do you need to help her, and does this have something to do with what happened to you in the Immortal Plane? I suspect it goes beyond merely Irrikus and the Immortal Council. You talk about it frequently, but you've told us very little." I saw his face begin to shutter, but I took a pleading step forward, my voice gentle with genuine sympathy. It was a fine, fine line we had to toe with Ruk right now. I didn’t want to scare him off, but we needed answers. I pushed on. "You want us to work with you, but we barely know anything about you. We trusted you before with no information—truly trusted you—which landed us here. So now we're going to need more. We need to build trust here. I can’t take another step forward to help you until you tell us something about you and why you need our help."

  Ruk's brow furrowed into a scowl, and a red splash rippled through the gray mist above us. Why was the idea so repugnant to him? I saw resistance in the way he tensed, the way the clouds turned a shade of watery red.

  "Is that all I need to do to convince you to assist me? So much time in the lower planes, and I still don't understand you." He held my gaze intently, and I refused to look away.

  "I don't know if it will convince us or not, but I think we deserve to know." I gestured to myself. "After all, you are still technically in my debt."

  Ruk grimaced and sighed. "Fine." He paced back and forth before the tear, darting furtive glances at it. "It was—" He stopped and shook his head. “She was—” He paused again.

  This went
on a few more times until finally, he ceased pacing and squared his shoulders. His flat lavender eyes looked more alive—and haunted—than I had ever seen before.

  He threw his hands up. "If I cannot find the words, perhaps it is better if I just show you."

  Chapter Sixteen

  Ruk spread his hands, his eyes shimmering as they grew larger. His face was devoid of emotion, giving the impression of a statue rather than a sentient being.

  The air around us swirled, completely encircling us in a dark cloak of mist. The cloud grew denser and more alive, far more powerful than anything Dorian and I had managed to produce at the trial. The thick curtain began to writhe and ripple. Despite my frustration and confusion, a sense of awe took over. Even with so little power, it was clear Ruk was truly skilled.

  Solid gray shapes began to materialize out of the mist, taking physical form as they bolted from one side of the circle to the other. One rushed by so close to Dorian and me that I heard and felt a breeze whipping past us. It was like a fully immersive virtual reality experience. I smelled dewy hot air, something akin to the Immortal Plane or even the Mortal Plane after days of thunderstorms. An endless plain of silver grass appeared before my eyes. A smooth breeze rustled the stiff grass, which gave way to the pressure. The breeze brushed my hair back off my face. I sucked in a breath at the sight of a sky full of soul-lights. It was the Immortal Plane. The amber light fell beautifully on the grass. I wanted to reach out and pluck one of the glittering treasures in my own fingers. Jia shifted closer to me as if frightened by the blooming image.

  A stream of soul-lights passed through the sky that unfurled above us. I puzzled over the density of the flow. It was much narrower than I'd seen before on my previous visits. Perhaps this was a time when there were fewer people in the Mortal Plane, and consequently fewer souls to float through the sky?