by Kody Boye
“Now,” Elliot said, seating himself in a recliner directly across from the loveseat where Aerick and I sat. Amadeo settled down in a chair beside his partner and leaned forward to acknowledge us. “Before we begin… do you have absolutely any reservations at all about your place within the Kaldr circle?”
“I’m… not sure,” I said, drumming my fingers along my thighs. “I mean… I can’t think of any right now, but that doesn’t mean that there aren’t any.”
“What Elliot is trying to ask,” Amadeo continued, “is if you would be unwilling to perform the tasks required of you as the next jǫfurr.”
“Which are?”
“They would include, but not be limited to: representing us as a people, rallying the Kaldr across the continental United States into the twenty-first century, and ensuring our continued survival through the consensual transformation of those deemed willing to join our ranks.”
“And Guy did this when he was the jǫfurr?”
“Guy abandoned his abilities when he left the ranch,” Elliot replied, “and ventured into the world on his own.”
“It’s not as if I can remain here,” I said. “I have a job. A career. A home in Austin. You can’t honestly expect to—”
“Your safety would be guaranteed upon the ranch,” the older man interrupted, “your needs met, your passions unrivaled. Why, you wouldn’t even have to work in the fields if you did not wish to. Your goals would lie in diplomacy amongst humanity.”
“I’m not diplomat.”
“You need not be a diplomat to represent us as a species, Jason. There has already been a call for a national registry of Kaldr.”
“I hate to break it to you,” Aerick said, “but that’s already happened. You know, our socials?”
“Some of us are… undocumented,” Amadeo replied, “and have made our way through this world through glamouring and other subterfuge.”
“You mean you’re illegal aliens?” I asked.
“It’s not as though we are citizens of the United States of America,” Elliot said. “We fled our homeland and found asylum within the Americas. We have, until just recently, been masked by the Agency.”
“And now it seems they are unwilling to continue this,” Elliot sighed.
I wasn’t sure what to say. So lost was I in my own thoughts that I could barely process what they were saying, let alone recognize it for what it truly was. It seemed, to me, that they wished for me to become a figurehead—an icon upon which all people could look. Why Elliot, as the presumed king of the Winters Kaldr clan, couldn’t do it himself was beyond my recognition. Maybe he just didn’t want the spotlight. Or maybe he wanted someone younger—both figuratively and metaphorically. Compared to me, the man was absolutely ancient.
Could anyone have anticipated anything like this ever happening? Especially the Agency?
Without the ability to know, and unable to seek resources beyond those I already had, I adjusted my position on the loveseat and stared at the Castellano-Winters men—trying, with very little success, to determine just what it was they expected of me.
I couldn’t leave my job behind, not after everything I’d gone through, after everything I’d fought toward. That would just be admitting defeat.
But is defeat always wrong? The nagging voice at the back of my head asked.
I supposed it wasn’t, but then again, I was no psychologist.
With a sigh, I leaned forward, stared Elliot Winters straight in the eye, and said, “Tell me what my first goal as the jǫfurr of the Winters Kaldr clan would be.”
Elliot smiled. “Excellent,” he said. “You’re finally coming into the fold.”
“I’m not coming into anything, Elliot,” I replied. “I just want to know what will be expected of me before I decide to dedicate myself to this… task.”
“Task?” the older man laughed. “You believe this to be a mere task, boy? This is a lifestyle, a tribute, an honor beyond anything you could have ever imagined.”
“I still want to know what I’m getting into.”
“Of course you do,” Elliot said, and offered a smile that chilled me to the bone.
I remained frozen there, beside Aerick, watching the man and trying to determine just what he was going to say. It seemed impossible to think that any task he could give me would be unconquerable, but I, as virgin as I was to this new world, knew literally nothing. For that, I could only tremble—and as Aerick reached out to set a hand on my knee, likely in an effort to calm me, I stiffened beneath his touch and exhaled a breath I’d long been holding in.
When Elliot finally did speak, it was to deliver the news I could’ve never imagined hearing. It was to say, “You will guard the Kelda,” he said, “from the coming storm.”
I blinked.
Storm?
What was he talking about?
“Sir?” I asked. “What’re you—”
“It’s not secret that the Supernatural community has been usurped,” Elliot replied, cutting me off before I could continue. “This is, in part, due to the actions that you have committed, and the domino effect that has happened as a result of said actions.”
“You have disrupted the Supernatural world,” Amadeo offered, “and skewed the balance because of it.”
“The Kelda has many enemies,” Elliot continued, “ones who would wish to bring her harm. If anything happens to her—and I mean anything, even wounds which to us would seem superficial—it will cripple the Kaldr people.”
“Is she,” I started, then stopped, swallowing. “A God?”
Elliot merely nodded. “Yes, Jason. She is the God of the Kaldr—and the one thing that is holding us together.”
“If she dies,” Amadeo added, “every single Kaldr will cease to exist.”
“What?” Aerick asked, standing. “What’re you talking about?”
“Every single Kaldr on the face of the planet Earth will be turned to ice,” Amadeo explained, “and forever trapped within their prison.”
“Your consciousness,” Elliot explained, “will exist forever—eternally—in the ice. And no matter what is done—if your body is destroyed—you will exist in eternity. Damnation.”
“Even if we burned you?” Aerick said.
“We would turn to water.”
“And after you evaporated?”
“Into the air.”
“And from there?”
“If you’re lucky?” Elliot questioned. “You’d remained Earthbound. If not… you would return to the stars. And let me tell you—the Heavens do not end. They are the true definition of endless.”
I could only stare.
How could this be, I wondered, when the Kelda seemed immortal—eternal as the Heavens above or the ground below? Could she, like everything else within this world, be damaged—and wrought with pain, simply cease to exist?
In thinking on this, and in realizing the alternative, I realized that Hell was real—that it was no fiery plane or icy landscape, but a never-ending ocean in which we as Kaldr could potentially be forced to wander for all of eternity.
Panic struck me then.
I gasped.
I struggled.
I breathed.
I tightened my hand into a fist until my knuckles popped, after which I lifted my head to face Elliot. That was the moment I finally was able to take into consideration the depth of Guy’s betrayal to his people—and said, without a doubt in my mind, “That was why you hated him.”
“I did not hate my son,” Elliot replied. “I merely hated his actions.”
“If he was destined to protect the Kelda,” I said, “and he didn’t, that could only mean—”
“That it was up to me,” Elliot said. “The Firstborn.”
“It was Elliot’s time to step down when Guy came of age,” Amadeo explained. “Guy was to become the Guardian of the Svell Kelda when he turned eighteen. But he refused. He fled the ranch and forever abandoned his sacred duty. Which meant that Elliot was bound to the ranch. Which m
eant that he could not leave. Which meant that—”
“I could not die,” the Winters man finished.
I blinked, stunned. “You… wanted to die?” I asked.
“I am old, Jason. Far older than anything you could possibly imagine. I am, perhaps, the oldest supernatural creature within the continental United States. The only thing that is older than me on the North American soil is the Kelda Herself.”
“We were meant to expire together,” Amadeo said, taking hold of Elliot’s hand and lacing their fingers together, “and leave everything to our son.”
“But he refused, and for twelve years we’ve been waiting for him to come to his senses. Now that he’s gone… that leaves only two options.”
“Damnation to life,” Amadeo offered, “or release in death. From you.”
From you.
“From me,” I whispered.
Aerick tightened his hold on my knee. His grip—dangerously tight—began to hurt, and when I shifted and he pulled his hand away, I gasped at the sudden shift in pressure.
Was this what I was truly destined to do? To leave the human world behind and forever become one with the Supernatural? I couldn’t even begin to articulate everything that would mean, everything that would entail. I would be stuck here, protecting the Kelda, forever, or at least until my successor was chosen.
I trembled, then, and crossed my arms over my chest—not unwilling, but almost unable to face either of the Kaldr’s eyes.
“It is a decision that will take some time to comprehend,” Elliot said. “I do not expect you to make a decision now. But I caution you—I grow weary of the world. My depression greatens, my soul perspires. It will not be long before I succumb to my own devices.”
From what they were saying, it sounded as though I didn’t have a choice in the matter.
My life, my existence, my supposed immortality—it was true.
I was meant to do something greater with my existence.
I was to guard a living God.
And Aerick—he was meant to expire, just like everything else in this world.
I couldn’t bear to think of it.
I stood, and without thinking, made my way out the door.
6
I leaned against the porch railing for quite some time—thinking, reminiscing, and trying, without success, to believe in a future in which everything would be all right. Wrought with tension and filled with despair, I tried my hardest to remain strong, but found myself crumbling even further the more I continued to think about it.
Guy’s existence, his purpose, and now his death—all had come crumbling down to but one moment, one declaration, one final, destined decision: that I, as his warm flesh, and then as his bóndi, his goddamn husband, was meant to serve in his stead.
I couldn’t believe it—could absolutely not fucking believe it.
It was the creaking front door that drew me from my thoughts—that, ultimately, returned me to the present.
When I heard his footsteps behind me, and when I heard him say, “Hey,” I could only look up and stare at where the Kaldr and those few surviving Howlers worked in the fields.
“Hey,” I said.
“How’re you doing?” Aerick asked. “You had a load put on you there.”
“I know,” I sighed, shaking my head. “It’s just… I don’t—”
“You don’t have to explain it to me,” Aerick said. “I can only imagine what you’re feeling.”
“This wasn’t how my life was supposed to be, Aerick.”
“What was it supposed to be then?” the young man asked.
“It… just… I…” I paused, then sighed before saying, “It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”
“So you were, what? Supposed to be homeless?” Aerick didn’t wait for me to respond. He continued on by saying, “Guy saw something special in you. That’s why he picked you. I don’t think it was kindness, or even compassion. I think, Jason, that it was destiny.”
“So we’re going to explain my meeting him on destiny?” I asked.
“He said he would take care of you,” Aerick replied. “Maybe this is what he meant. Being here, on this ranch, in this place in this city. Maybe,” he continued, “this is the way things are supposed to go.”
“I don’t want to dedicate my life to protecting the Kelda,” I said.
“Maybe not,” Aerick said, “but with your refusal you risk the death of your entire species—and damnation to Hell for eternity.”
I laughed—an ugly, bitter sound that made the hairs on my arms and the back of my neck stand on end. Aerick, in response, merely stared; and while I continued to laugh, succumbing to hysterics and then sobs, I realized that he was right—that he was utterly, one-hundred-percent right. There wasn’t anything I could do. There wasn’t anything that could be done.
This, I finally decided to admit, was it. This was where, after all this time—after all these long, hard, and twenty-six years of life—where I admitted that destiny had taken me, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.
As I bowed my head, and as I allowed the descending sun’s rays to hit my brow, I accepted both defeat and success—one for the fact that I would be leaving one life behind, and the other for that I was stepping into another.
There was no denying it.
This was our new beginning—and, ultimately, our greatest end.
PART 8
1
We made preparations to leave the house in Austin the following day—first by informing the Agency that we would soon no longer be in need of it, then by listing the items that the next owners would not use online. We sold, rather quickly, those personal affects—such as blankets, pillows and other miscellaneous objects—and gave away items like the mattress in record time. With each parted affect came the realization that we would soon be gone—and that our destinies, as intertwined as they now were, would soon come roaring to the surface.
I was informed, during a brief conversation with one of the Agency’s operatives, that Aerick and I’s involvement with our current places of employment would soon be Wiped from existence.
“So we don’t have to worry about it?” Aerick asked.
I shook my head.
No. We didn’t have to worry about it—and, perhaps, never would. We were soon to inherit the entirety of the Winters Kaldr Clan’s wealth, including the ranch and the resources that came with it. How we would manage the farmlands I wasn’t sure, but regardless, it wasn’t something I needed to worry about at that moment.
Soon, we would be climbing into the old blue Lexus and making our way away from Austin—and this time for good.
From my place in the kitchen, where I sat sipping the last of the sodas that I’d pulled from the recently-cleaned fridge, I pondered what life would be like on a farm I knew nothing about and considered the time I’d spent in Fredericksburg. It’d been peaceful, there—filled with monotonous nothingness and the casual airs that came with it—and though I knew I wouldn’t be bound to the ranch eternally, I would live, eat, sleep and feed there for the rest of my life, however long that may be.
“Almost ready?” Aerick asked as he came in through the back door.
“Yeah,” I replied. “Almost.”
I tipped the soda can back, expecting more. When no liquid came, however, I grieved—not for the fact that it was gone, but for the fact that there wasn’t more time to enjoy the place I’d come to call home.
“Let’s go,” I said.
I crushed the can in my grasp as I made my way out the back door with Aerick.
When he locked the door—securing, for the last time, the home that had once been ours—I looked to the garage where the car was parked and sighed when I took in its features.
In the end, it didn’t matter how I felt about what we were doing—we were going home.
And like they said: home was where the heart was.
2
We arrived at the Kaldr family ranch later that morning. Tired from a nigh
t of restless sleep and dwelling what was to come, I stepped out of the driver’s seat of Guy’s blue Lexus and popped the back door before reaching for the bag that held what few possessions I had. We’d been promised, over a series of text messages from Elliot, that anything we required would be provided in due time, but not before we secured ourselves on the property and officially made our home here.
“Jason,” Amadeo said as he stepped toward the car. “You’re here.”
“I am,” I replied, accepting the man in a one-armed hug as he approached. “Sorry it took us so long. Traffic was bad coming out of the city.”
“It’s understandable. Come..”
We turned and, after giving acknowledging nods to the men and women in the fields, started toward the house, before which sat a multitude of trucks from which many men were walking back and forth from.
“Renovations, I take it?” Aerick asked.
“Yes,” Amadeo replied. “They’re to be completed within the next few weeks, but fear not—everything you’d require can already be found within the home.”
“How are we making… uh… arrangements?” I asked.
“As in… for our passings?” the Spaniard asked. I had to force a nod to keep from freezing up on the spot. “The Agency is currently working to repurpose every single piece of documentation on which my and Elliot’s name are on into your possession. It should not be long before this is done.”
“So you mean to do this quickly then?”
“Elliot suffers greatly. And I…” The man paused. “I wish nothing more than to comfort him.”
With yet another forced nod, I continued to follow Amadeo toward and then into the house. We were led through the living room, then down a short hall, then up a flight of stairs to where a spare bedroom sat open and inviting, tempting sleep I knew we wouldn’t be able to have.
“Thank you,” I said, pushing the bedroom door open and stepping inside.
After Aerick followed, and after he’d placed his bag on the bed, I closed the door behind me and waited for several moments before sighing and collapsing against it.