“What am I?” He echoed her question in the steam-laden air. What was he indeed, no longer a man in truth, but some darkened creature seeking to become a man again in hopes of finally seeing an end to this unending cycle of violence he was trapped in. “Is that your question?”
For a moment, she wanted to withdraw it, ask the question she had formed before entering and forget about this new one jumping up between them, but it seemed so important as she stood thinking about it. The voice was nearly the same, but not the same one that had spoken to her gently the night before or even mocked her on the practice field earlier the same day. There was something else to it, an animalistic quality making her feel as if she were prey before his eyes. A frightened rabbit in the presence of a snake without the wit to run was Jalcina standing a mere foot from the bath where Vad’Alvarn reclined, his humanity covered by the monster he had become.
“Yes.” Jalcina covered up the tremble in her voice, but lost control of the squeak issuing from her throat at the sound of him moving closer and then his hand, his claws, making contact with her ankle. “I want to know.” The sound of her own voice helped Jalcina recover a measure of her composure as she kept her eyes tightly closed as if it would help her in the darkness against an opponent caring nothing for anything other than the fact she was warm flesh, sweet smelling warm flesh that would gush forth blood when bitten.
“I am darkness.” His voice held some secret amusement in it as if her question were simply a joke to which he was responding in an effort to pacify her. Claws crept along her skin, up her leg drawing a slow pattern along the line of her vein. “Is that the answer you seek?”
Eyes squeezed shut all the tighter as his touch moved, the need to withdraw out of range so strong she had to stifle a whimper of fear.
“No.” Her teeth clenched to keep from giving away her fear, trying to hide its rise. “I do not believe you.”
“Then look around you,” the voice tempted, the touch continued teasing at the edge of her thoughts, disrupting them like wind would a pattern of leaves. “Look around you and say I am not born and bred of the dark surrounding us.”
Throughout the conversation, Jalcina had refused to open her eyes, refused to see the world around her seeming to have taken on all the aspects of a night covered in heart’s blood. Even when the water movement sounded in her ears, she kept her eyes tightly shut as if the darkness behind her eyes was far safer than the darkness before her eyes were they open.
“Look around you, my love.” Now he sounded as he had the night before when he was lying beside her upon those cushions trying to calm her to sleep. How had he changed so quickly? Still the creeping of his touch against her leg, disrupting her thoughts all over again, drawing her back to the awareness of his hissing voice first accompanying it and the fact it was still somehow cold as well as wet, unlike a wet hand, but more like a wet stone against her skin. “Or are you too afraid?”
He took a stab at her pride without thinking, knowing her for what she was, a proud young woman who had little left to hold onto save that. Already she had given up her freedom, even if she did not know it yet, being tied to him by the light just as they had been when first alive. She had promised to see his ambition through with him, and the fates had determined it was a promise she was to keep. Whether she truly wished it anymore or not.
Her eyes opened, just slits, the mist around her shimmered with light, the same chains of light that had looped about her before reaching out to the mist to light the darkness around her.
“You are the light.”
The presence of her light was driving the darkness in him back down into the depths. His eyes receded to their normal size, still red, but markedly more human than they had been. The scaling dropped back to along his arms and spine, his hackles smoothing back into place. His voice, which had been changed by the transformation, was returning to normal and the sound she was becoming used to.
“I am cursed. Cursed by my own choices.”
Jalcina flushed with embarrassment. After all, he was not clothed, but sitting in his bath, seemingly unconcerned. Perhaps worse he was leaning against the edge of the pool nearest to her, one hand wrapped around her ankle. Vad’Alvarn could see right up her skirt, if he truly desired. It seemed he did not intend to look, but rather to touch. Leaning up further, he pressed his lips to her skin with a murmured word.
“I’m sorry, I should not be here.” Now the spell broken, she wanted to return to the realm of her understanding.
“And why should not you be?” Wet warm fingers caressed her skin before he pushed away from the edge. “Come in with me.” He let his amusement show to her as if there were nothing wrong with the suggestion.
“That’s not done.” Now she stammered when faced with his smug thought. “I should not be here.”
“Hush,” he said to her. “Come in with me, Leviana, and forget this world you have been reborn in.”
She recoiled from the name, though it called to some part of her wanting his attention, some part of her begging to give in to his wish and sink down into warm water with him, to be skin to skin against him, and feel his heartbeat, the same one that had calmed her to sleep the night before. She slipped her slippers off her feet, leaving them near the doorway, and slipped across the wet, warm stones to the stairs for entering the bath. He watched her, waiting expectantly, and reached for her as she settled one foot on a water covered step. The hem of her dress did not sink, but floated on the surface for a moment before finally falling below the water and coiling around her legs. His hands were at her waist, welcoming her as she came toward him. Then he drew her closer, pressing his lips to hers in a kiss. Instead of running, she pressed forward into his kiss, reveling in his embrace. Yet she was still somehow detached from it, aware this was not her making these motions. It was Leviana, the woman Vad’Alvarn kept calling for when he spoke to her. How was this possible, she wondered. To share a body with another. There was no possible way it could be truth. Still she could not deny the thrill of recognition when he spoke that name as if it were truly her own.
Hands dragged along wet fabric, pressing it against her skin and leaving behind marks of their passage. “Leviana,” he spoke in her ear as he held her body against him. His name had been the last word on her lips, now her name seemed unable to leave his. Over and over again, it became a mantra in her ears. She smoothed his hair away from his face, wetting it all the more by dragging her hands through the water around them.
“Vadian.” Jalcina had heard that name before. Heard it spoken in her own voice just hours ago, but even then it had not sounded so natural for her to say it as it did now. It was then her breath hitched in her throat, chest feeling a burning tightness there she did not know before. She said his name again, this time her tone fearful, hands clutching at him as if she would sink should she lose hold of him.
“Leviana.” His own fear was there and the water sloshed around them as he pulled her around so he could slip his arms under her, placing her head against his shoulder. The edges of her hair were wet from being dragged through the water. “Do not leave me again.” She had heard him plead like this once, no twice before now. Once that she so barely remembered, yet it was clear in her mind, the sound of his voice in her ear begging her not to leave him alone.
Clashing steel played out all around her, so close she should have been able to see the swords as they slashed against shields at the edge of her vision. Shouts of pain and battle cries from hundreds of voices so close she could make out each of the voices individually. The pain in her chest increased; her breathing twisted a knife of pain in her. Darkness crept along the edges of her vision, sending tendrils in to cover what she could see. Deep red eyes stared down into her own and his voice implored her to stay with him. Begged her not to leave him alone. Told her he could not possibly do it alone. Reaching up, she brushed her fingers along his face, his name on her lips: “Vadian.”
He held her to his heart, afraid to try and leave the po
ol, but more frightened by the idea she was dying on him again. Her heart was beating against his, frantically, as if she was afraid. “Leviana,” he called her name and walked toward the edge of the pool, carefully laying her on the tiles. Blank eyes met his when he turned her face toward him. Her skin felt too cool to him, far too cool for her to still be breathing. “Leviana.”
“Are you certain this will give us what we need?” The cave around them was so dark, yet there was light up ahead. This was supposed to be the place where the world came together, the Queen had said. They were supposed to be able to find the power to change the world inside this cave. What they had found so far, the two of them together, was darkness and stone. Now they were nearly into a place where there was light. It was a glowing halo beckoning them forward. In the center of the light was a ball of pure blackness, it rolled and reflected the faces staring into it, Leviana and Vadian. Red eyes and blue eyes, reflected back darkly. A shaft of pure light with a core of deep darkness.
“Do not touch it,” she warned him, pulling at his arm. “If this is what we need in order to conquer the world, then perhaps we should not do this.”
“Leviana.” He set his jaw. “We’re going to do this. That was our choice.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. Together they had promised to conquer the world. Together they were going to see their promise made real. Only together. “This is the power we need.”
Vad’Alvarn remembered the day so clearly. Too clearly, his thoughts undulled by time. The day when he had reached out to the ball of darkness and let it wrap around his fingers, felt it dragging along his skin and up his arm. Through his armor and into his mouth, he breathed it; let it become a part of him. Even then, so quickly it became a part of him, driving out conscious thought. Leviana had withdrawn then, watching the change as it coursed through his body. Scales burst through his skin, runnels of blood dripping off his body as he screamed. Eyes flattening, nostrils flaring, he had attacked her then, teeth wanting nothing more than the ripping of her flesh, to feel it warm between his lips. Vad’Alvarn had chased her around the cave.
Screaming, she had run about the room, trying to keep one step ahead of him. Face a human opponent, Leviana had no fear of any man or woman approaching her with a weapon. But this was no human; this was a monster trying to eat her. Her sword in hand, she tried to fend him off, a battle cry on her lips. Then she touched the shaft of light and it engulfed her. Chains of light fended him off, as she followed through a transformation much like his own, but instead of just scales, she also grew feathers, sparkling silver wings appearing to sprout from her back. With a flap, Leviana pushed herself off from the floor, hovering above his head. “Vadian,” she screamed his name.
And sat up, her heart thudding in her chest as though she had been running. “Vadian,” she echoed his name under her breath.
“What did you see?” he asked it as he had when he had found her waking from the dream she had a night ago. Blue eyes sparked then sparkled with their lacing of silver, seeking his own, drawing him in as though there was nothing else in the room. Feverish fingers stroked her face, drawing the circle of her ear carefully. “I thought for a moment I lost you.”
“The light and the dark.” Her voice wavered and she relaxed onto the damp stones, willing her heart to stop with its frantic beating. They were alone in a room full of warmth, close and dim, full of just the feeling of them together. “We were together with the light and the darkness.”
“Yes,” he agreed. “We were. You told me not to, but I was too caught up in my need to conquer. Too certain it was what we truly needed to listen to you.”
“We are both cursed then for our foolishness.” The words came to her seemingly without hesitation. Yet then she stopped, blinking. “But I do not understand. What happened to us?”
“You died, my love.” He pulled her toward him again, wrapping one arm around her slim waist. “I lost you and then I found I did not truly die. My life would end, then begin again, empty. All I had left was my conquest, the promise I made to you.”
Unprepared to understand, Jalcina could only stare forward, stare forward and think in a circle. They had promised to take over the world then sought the power to make their dream a reality. In return, they were trapped in a dark cycle of being unable to truly leave the mortal coil. He buried his face into her torso, stifling his feelings in her clothing. She felt the slight shake in his frame as he held her. So close together there was no mistaking he was breaking down in front of the things happening around them.
“How long has it been?” She pressed him for answers, unsure she wanted to know. There was no telling how much time had passed since she had lived, since she had died, and now was reborn in a family she had no claim to. Her Father, if this was true, was not her father. He was only a man who had been trapped in a web created by fate. An innocent victim. “When did I die?”
“Four hundred years.” He knew the question would come, but still he did not seem prepared to answer it. Her time had been spent in death. For him, he had counted each day, known every waking hour, and wanted nothing more than to see his end come. Yet he had been run through, he had hung himself one night in a fit of upset, but he survived. The time afterward was like sleep, yet he always awoke. At one point, he had been buried alive, everyone certain he had truly died. Afterwards, he picked up and moved on, leaving behind all his possessions to find the truth of his condition. Yet he would find himself consumed by the need to raise an army and fight. So he had been since she died. Nothing made the feeling leave him. He returned to the land of his birth and raised an army, became a conqueror king.
Rubbing her back, Vad’Alvarn waited to hear something, anything, a gasp of disbelief. Some acknowledgment of what had happened between them. She was asking questions meaning she was understanding now certainly. He pulled away overtaken by the fact there were tears in her eyes.
“Four hundred years,” she said it quickly, so fast the words ran together, unintelligible to his ears. Yet he did not have to understand what he heard, there was no mistaking she was repeating his words, forcing her mind to make sense of what was going on. Four hundred years had passed between them, passed never to be had again. One hand moved to drag through his damp hair, pulling it away from his head and watching it thread through her fingers like the same darkness curling over his skin when he reached out to touch the ball of darkness to seal their fate. If they could go back and do it all over again, knowing what they did now, would they have still chosen to try? There was no telling, perhaps Jalcina did not remember the feelings that sent them searching for the crown of the world, what had made them want to conquer it all. Her hand made contact with the back of his head and she drew him back to her again, pressing his face into her stomach for the comfort of his breathing into her skin. “I cannot believe all this.”
She did not believe it. Now Jalcina wanted the simplicity of her life with her Father all the more. It was so much easier then, she had only been growing up, preparing for a life where she would be married and have children. Still it was in her blood now as well, the more he spoke of it, the need for conquest. Just like the blade had felt natural in her hand, it had become almost like breathing this need to conquer those beneath her. This was where their trouble began.
“No need to believe it,” he contradicted her, pressing forward until his words seemed muffled by the fabric of her dress. “It is the truth.” It was. The undisputed truth being she was alive and remembering things she had no right to remember and sitting there in a bath with a man she was attracted to, but only barely knew in this life. Yet his name was on her lips. On her lips and in her heart, though she found it keep the present and the past separated in her mind. Her childhood in Sartol, full of love and laughter was becoming more and more distant, indistinct, and shrouded in mist.
“Jalcina!” Lecern, her beloved in Sartol, called her name in her mind and broke her concentration.
Yet when she spun to try and find the source of the voice, there
was nothing there. She had to have imagined it. Vad’Alvarn was holding her so close she could not get up to go see if there was someone outside of her vision talking to her.
“Did you hear that?” she asked the man holding her.
He stared up at her with his eyes rimmed in red now, not just burning red, but rimmed by lines of unhappy redness brought on by his tiredness.
“Vadian?” she caressed his face, thumb running down the edge of his eye to his chin which she then cupped carefully.
“I heard nothing.” Vadian knew there was nothing there, at least not within his hearing. She had to have imagined it. Not to mention, he certainly had said nothing, he did not like this new name of hers. It was too divorced from the past they had together. So he did not use it. There was no reason for him too. He wanted her to remember what they were together. “It does not matter anyway.” Now he pulled away, moving to get out of the pool. It was still extremely warm, but he did not care for it anymore. The blood had been washed away and now her clothing was all wet. She would need to change. Such paltry concerns it seemed, but they were the concerns of their lives now. Not just the fact they were servants to some far greater power toying with them like they were pawns on a chessboard. “You should go change.” One hand waved in her direction, drawing attention to the fact her dress was soaked and clinging to her form. Jalcina had forgotten about it in her zeal to be near him, and even now, she barely noticed the chill creeping in as the open air sucked the warmth away from the fabric and left behind only the cold. When she did not move, he came over to her, wrapped in nothing more than a drying cloth, and took a hold of her arm. “Come.”
Chains of Fate (The Fate Circle Saga Book 1) Page 17