by Laury Falter
Suddenly, all weapons were drawn. The collision came seconds later, a sweeping and organized alignment against us.
Using my heightened awareness, I was able to eliminate three of them quickly, which only seemed to free up space for the rest. Eran and Campion made a circle around me, one of flying bodies and spraying blood. They held off our enemies as one after another tried to breach the circle.
Then Sharar came through the group, his arrogant grin now stone cold determination. Lip curled up, wings out, arms stretched, he reached me.
He was faster than me, his hand coming around my neck before I knew what was happening.
His fingers had just begun to squeeze when his eyes glassed over and his mouth went slack. As he fell to the ground, Eran stood behind him, withdrawing his sword from Sharar’s neck, the pointing having made its way entirely through to the other side. I finished him with my own swipe across the throat. Eran took a moment to ensure I wasn’t injured, scanning me from the feet up, once and deliberate, before turning back to the fight.
Eran, a far better fighter than me, debilitated five more. Campion removed four. As they fell by their swords, I followed up, ending their lives eternally.
The prospects appeared dim as the remaining Fallen Ones hacked away at us, looking for an opening to get at me.
Then something happened that didn’t quite register with me until the movement stopped.
Bodies were being thrown aside, one by one, as someone from the outside worked their way in. In the midst of the chaos, I didn’t get a good look at the one intervening, trying instead to assist.
When the last Fallen One had taken their final breath, I turned to face the person who had stepped in on our behalf.
Eran had his hand extended, thanking the last one I would have least expected.
Gershom’s head was tilted down, bashfully accepting Eran’s appreciation.
“What?” he asked, slightly uncomfortable, as if he’d exposed a secret. “I don’t like to fight. I never said that I couldn’t.” Then his brow creased and his expression changed to concern. “Maggie?”
Eran was already at my side, his arms around me, carefully holding me up when I realized that warm blood now spread down my side, pooling beside my combat boots.
In the heat of battle, one of our enemies had landed a precise blow, one directly beside my heart.
As Eran inspected my wound, I searched his face for any sign of relief. There was none. In fact, there was only one way to describe his reaction: rigid determination.
“Eran?” I heard myself say just as the blackness closed in.
CHAPTER ELEVEN: THE IDEA
“Will she be all right?” The voice was drawn out, languid, slow and unrecognizable.
Cool wind crossed my skin, layered with dampness and causing my body to quiver.
“Is it a mortal wound?” The voice inquired.
Wings, rapid, rhythmic flapped around me.
“Shut up and fly, Gershom.” This voice was Eran’s and it was undeniably nervous.
My eyelids, thick and heavy, drew open in time to catch sight of Eran’s muscular arm and, beyond it, stone walls. They closed again and soon after I noticed my body jostling from side to side. Searing heat flashed up my body, so intense I held my breath against it.
The darkness came again, swallowing me whole. The sounds fell away, dying down slowly as the sound does with a carnival ride when it comes to a stop.
I was jostled then, my body constricting against the shocking movement. Eran was on the ground, running.
“The door,” he commanded.
We didn’t stop so I knew someone must have followed it.
Then I was surrounded by sheets, pillows, and blankets and someone was tugging at my wound, irritating it.
“No,” I heard myself moan as I rolled away.
Someone shushed me just before I fell back to the deep, dark void.
When I awoke, the pain was gone. The severe injury to my side was nonexistent, and I moved with ease, breathing deeply and without restriction.
Opening my eyes again, I found the peaceful hall I knew so well surrounded me. Beneath me was my stone bench, the soft breeze moving around us.
Sitting up, my first thought was encouraging.
I hadn’t died yet. This, I knew with absolute certainty because I hadn’t passed through the tunnel I recalled on previous trips to the afterlife in which my body had stopped working all together.
This was good news. As they healed my body in the other dimension, as it recuperated there, it seemed I would be spending my time here.
Then I paused, realizing for the first time how it must feel for those who knew loved ones fighting for their lives. Having been given the ability to transport myself between dimensions, I was never restricted in being able to communicate with my loved ones. But here, right now, I had no way of telling them I felt perfectly fine. A void separated us, inhibiting us from speaking and leaving us both to wonder how the other was faring. It felt so unfair for them, and now for me and Eran.
Oddly, I was surrounded by loving entities and yet, looking back, I couldn’t remember a time when I felt more alone.
“I’m here, Eran,” I said softly. “And I’m all right.”
Knowing he wouldn’t get the message, I resigned myself to the situation and stood up.
Scanning the pockets before me, I realized there was really only one thing I could do…I’d make the most of my time and deliver outstanding messages.
Alterums had lined up early in the morning asking me to deliver messages for them, something I readily agreed to. When I started, I didn’t stop, working one message after another to pass the time, stopping only intermittently at Eran’s cabin to visit with Annie and Charlie.
In the afterlife, time remains consistent and irrelevant. No clocks, no common sleeping patterns, and no rising and falling of the sun mark the passing of time. Because of this, I had no idea how many days went by on earth while I worked.
My thoughts were permanently torn between earth and messages with images of Eran bent over my bedside and Ezra pacing the floor in her room, anticipating the announcement that I had reawakened.
The moment did come and when it did, it was sudden.
Walking down a beach with glistening violet sand alongside a man with silver hair and a deeply lined face, I had been disappointed when our conversation came to an abrupt halt.
The man’s name was Dominick and he’d approached me in the Hall of Records, interested in learning how Eran was faring on earth. Our conversation carried over from the hall to his realm in the afterlife where we strolled along a quiet beach.
Dominick appeared to be ninety but occasionally he would stoop, pick up a rock, and skip it across the water with the agility of a teenager. His stride was effortless, hands clasped behind his back, his toes barely leaving prints in the sand.
At some point in the conversation, I’d mentioned my frustration with Ms. Barrett, whom he seemed to know. In fact, he knew just about everyone I mentioned.
“You’ll need to guide her,” he urged me. “All of them. They need your assistance, Maggie. They may be old souls, wise beyond that of a human, but that is precisely what endangers them. They know what awaits them here in the afterlife, the tranquility. It subdues their preservation instinct and gives them reason to ignore the reality that they would endure significant pain at the hands of a Fallen One. I believe only Ms. Barrett, having personally encountered one before, knows the full extent of the damage they can bring.”
“Ms. Barrett has had an altercation with a Fallen One?” I asked, stunned.
“In her first and only life yet as a human…But she remembers it well.”
“So that’s the source of her fear,” I mused.
He agreed with a solemn nod. “She’s young still, learning our ways. Her existence only began just over one hundred years ago. It’s one of the reasons she’s there as an Alterum. She feels safer with ulterior powers while evaluating how humans i
nteract. Her first visit to that dimension wasn’t easy for her. But know this…even as she learns who she is, she does mean well.”
“Yes, I can see it.” I agreed, reflecting back to my epiphany that she and I both carried for the Alterums but showed it in different ways.
“Eran will be of assistance. He’s had a bit of time in both dimensions,” he offered. “But of course you know this already.” He gave me a knowing grin.
I laughed lightly at the understatement.
“I figured as much,” said Dominick, holding his hand out to an incoming wave and with telepathic force prevented it from reaching us, carving a dry path through it.
“How long have you known Eran?” I asked, realizing I was shifting the conversation and not particularly caring.
“Long before you,” he sighed paternally. “I trained him.”
My jaw falling open, I swung my head up. “You…”
“Yes, he was my student, more of a prodigy to be honest. He excelled at warfare and because of it I didn’t question his decision when he chose to become a guardian. And I certainly didn’t question it when he chose to relinquish his former ward to another guardian in favor of guarding you.”
That statement sparked my curiosity. “Why is that?”
He sighed and tilted his head up to gaze at the translucent blue sky above and the heavens beyond it. “Those of us who have lived in both dimensions multiple times were the first to recognize it. I suppose we had the experience to understand what we saw. The love that you and Eran share differed in its intensity and resilience, far beyond anything we’d ever witnessed before.”
“I guess I don’t entirely understand,” I said, contemplating.
“My dear, you two are the original soul mates.”
I felt my brow creasing as I absorbed Dominick’s meaning. Then, my eyes widened and I drew in a sigh of amazement. “We’re the-”
My sentence was never finished as I was transported back through the space that separates each dimension.
Before my eyes were open the throbbing ache reached my consciousness.
Groaning, I moved my hand to the wound intending to press against it and subdue the pain but another hand seized mine and stopped its course.
“Not yet, my love,” Eran whispered. “Pressure will only reopen it.”
The sound of his enchanting, English accent gave me the motivation to wake fully.
“Eran,” I whispered, a smile pulling at my cheeks as I took in every fine detail of his handsomely-chiseled face.
He gently lifted my hand to his lips and kissed my wrist.
“Magdalene…” he murmured against my skin, tickling me with his breath.
I giggled lightly but didn’t pull away. When he lifted his head, he was smiling and there was serenity in it that calmed me instantly.
“I missed you.”
It took only a second before we realized we’d each said it simultaneously and our grins deepened.
I attempted to shift closer to him only to notice I was tethered, the movement yanking on something attached to the middle of my forearm.
“What…” I muttered, going in search of it.
It only took a second to find the thing causing the restriction. A needle was injected in my arm, secured to a tube which wound up and over a metal stand where a bag of fluids hung.
Eran cleared his throat uncomfortably.
“How long has it been?” I asked.
“Seven days. You were asleep for seven days.” His voice was wistful, heartrending. Then his hand dropped, carrying mine with it, but he wouldn’t release it, still needing to feel connected to me. “You’re healing well. No sign of Fallen Ones and you’ll be impressed, I think, with the progress the Alterums have made.”
“They’re still training?”
“They are. I’ve even convinced Gershom to share his skills.”
“You’re joking.”
He shook his head. “Gershom’s been holding sessions twice a day. He’s a wealth of information on the Fallen Ones…having been one at one point.”
I imagined he would be. “And you? What have you been doing?”
He leaned back, avoiding the question. “Don’t worry about me.”
I assessed him closely, noting his disheveled hair, groggy eyes, and the clothes he wore – which hadn’t been changed since I last saw him.
“You haven’t left my bedside once, did you?”
“Magdalene, don’t worry-”
“Eran,” I stated. “You can’t do that to yourself. I don’t want you to do that to yourself…not for me. You need to-”
He cut me off with a kiss, one that started out intending to simply end my rant but turned passionate, tempting.
“Now…” he said behind his signature smirk, having gotten the appropriate response he sought in quieting me. It was charming and antagonizing at the same time. “Now that I have your full attention, did you find Dominick?”
Grudgingly, I answered him. “Yes.”
“And did you ask about Ms. Barrett and how to handle her?”
“I did.”
“And?” he urged, knowing I was intentionally withholding answers until I was reassured he wouldn’t sacrifice himself to be stationed at my bedside again. “All right, Magdalene. I’ll make sure to take a five minute break at times.”
“Thirty,” I demanded. “At least.”
He moaned reluctantly. “Fine…thirty.”
“Thank you,” I said properly placated. “Yes, I did find Dominick and he was very helpful. Ms. Barrett has suffered at the hands of Fallen Ones before so he suggested we delicately guide her. In fact, he suggested we guide all the Alterums.”
“I assumed as much. They aren’t known for their preservation instinct. I was actually inspired by the number of Alterums who stayed and have been learning to fight.”
Eran’s gaze had drifted towards the window where below I could hear Rufus bellow a command only to immediately follow it with, “Ahh, blimey…That force ain’t goin’ to do nothin’ but tickle yer enemy. Use yer weight! USE YER WEIGHT!”
Eran chuckled and shook his head at Rufus’s training style. “Of course, they might not stick around.”
I laughed with Eran before we fell silent again and then I opened my mouth to speak before realizing what I was doing.
“He also told me…” I began to say, allowing my voice to trail off.
“Dominick?” Eran inquired. “What else did he say?”
I swallowed, realizing I was anxious to acknowledge it, to even mention it.
Eran turned to face me fully, sensing the discomfort with what I was holding back. “Magdalene? Whatever Dominick said was in our best interest to learn.”
“Right…Right.” I said, reminding myself he’d been Eran’s mentor. “He said…I don’t know why I’m having such a tough time telling you.”
Eran was growing increasingly worried now, which was precisely what should not have been happening given that Dominick’s news was positive.
In an effort to erase the nervousness from Eran’s expression, I blurted out, “He said we were the first soul mates.”
Silence filled the room then as Eran only blinked in reaction. Then he leaned forward and took both my hands in his own. “Magdalene, why was it so hard to tell me? Why so uncomfortable?”
I opened my mouth and closed it twice before answering. “Because I don’t want anything to change between us. I’ve always known what I felt for you was too intense…too powerful to be anything different. But you…I didn’t know how you might react. But you don’t seem…surprised…whatsoever. Did you-Did you already know?”
“Yes,” he replied plainly.
“But how?” I asked in amazement. “Did Dominick tell you?”
“He didn’t need to, Magdalene. I felt it just like you. I knew you were missing me when you were on the other side these last seven days. I knew you were speaking to me…”
“You heard me?” I asked, bewildered.
“
Felt would be more accurate.”
The breath caught in my throat took a second to dislodge. “So you’ve always known?”
“I always knew the intensity of my emotions for you but it took me a while to understand them. Only when I tied them in with our ability to feel each other’s reactions did I grasp what it meant.” Noting my confused stare, he went on. “We feel each other because we are uniquely bound to each other, Magdalene. We are two pieces to one whole and because of it somehow what we feel transcends space and time.”
He leaned further towards me until our lips almost met and then he stopped, an inch away. The pressure in him was undeniable as his breathing staggered and he swallowed hard.
“I…” he exhaled sharply, his breath tantalizing me. “I need you.”
“It’s the same for me…”
He groaned loudly and sat up, tilting his head to the ceiling, fighting his desires. “And that’s why I’m refraining.” As if to cement the statement, he said again, “I’m refraining.”
As he stood and moved to the window, he repeated it twice more. “Damn bad timing and injuries…” he muttered, staring outside, his teeth clenching so tight I could see the edge of his jaw protruding.
From below, we heard Gershom shouting commands, his tone taking on a growing level of confidence. Other than the sparing in the courtyard, there was no other sound and the room began to weigh heavily on me. So, I shifted and dropped my legs over the bed and pulled the needle from my arm.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Eran asked, already crossing the floor towards me.
“Getting up.”
“Oh no you’re not.”
“Yes, Eran. I am.”
“No…you’re not.” This voice was equally as determined but it came from the doorway where Evelyn now stood. Just behind her was Ezra. Both of them wore frowns.
“Eran, get her back in bed,” said Evelyn marching towards us.
“Doctor’s orders,” Eran said, smirking as if he’d just won a bet.
“Doctor?” I asked, confused.
“Evelyn’s the house healer. She’s the one who stitched your wound,” Eran explained in my ear as he gently forced me back to my pillow.