“I thought the transfer would take weeks!” I said, alarmed by the speed with which everything was happening.
“Oh, honey, I know more words and subwords than Danika. There is more than one way to transfer a shard. I’ve had thousands of years to work my way up to this moment. Did you really think I’ve come unprepared?” she replied, wincing from pain. “Granted, it’s less comfortable than the old-fashioned method Danika used, but it does the job much faster.”
The more she spoke, the more horrified I became, unable to do anything to stop this madness. All I could do was scream and shout and hope my beloved might hear me before it was too late. “Kalon! Please! Wake up!”
“It’s no use,” Soul said, hands balled into fists. “We’re going to have to find another way to stop her.”
“How?” I asked, tears blurring my vision. I felt them running down my cheeks, and it just made me feel all the more useless, as I stood crying while my beloved’s fate was sealed. What were the odds I’d succeed in protecting Kalon from Danika once Petra transferred Spirit’s soul shard into his heart? As per Derek’s account from his prison cell conversations with the Lady Supreme, she was the one who had to extract the shards, since she’d started the process. She was the one who’d be coming for Kalon, and there was no stopping that maniac.
“I don’t know yet,” Soul replied. “But we did get Ramus’s heart away from Danika. Plus, she’s burned to a crisp right now, so I’m not sure how long it will be before she’s healthy enough to track us down again.”
“What do we do with the shard we got, then?” I asked. “Do we destroy it?”
“I’m not sure we can do that,” Soul said. “I’ve already tried. And it burn. Breaking the shard would only produce smaller pieces, still usable for a soul reunification, so that’s out of the question. Crushing it would produce the same result, though it would certainly lead to more tedious repair work, I suppose. Fire was our only option, and the pieces seem to be impervious to it. I’m worried Spirit might’ve foreseen this, too. He’s the type of overthinker to take precautions for pretty much anything.”
“That doesn’t mean we won’t find a way to destroy it,” Amane said, looking at him for some kind of confirmation.
“Absolutely,” Soul replied. “We’ll figure something out.”
Hope was a dangerous feeling. It circled me like a starving vulture, waiting to swoop down and consume me. I feared it almost as much as I feared losing Kalon, because hope in the face of such adversity was a double-edged blade. And in this case, a single cut could mean the death of the one I loved.
Petra seemed to relax as the golden thread swelled between her and Kalon. The transfer had begun, and my very soul was breaking into pieces. She produced a small glass bauble filled with dark smoke.
“Oh, come on!” Kelara snapped, genuinely annoyed. “Seriously?”
Soul groaned, his frustration obvious. “Ugh, not again.”
“What… what is that?” I asked, my voice trembling.
“This? This is a delightful trinket. Not easy to make or to come by… ouch!” Petra paused, clearly uncomfortable. Her relaxation had only lasted a couple of seconds. The whole transfer process was clearly taking a toll on her body, as she twitched from various physical aches. “But it will let Danika know where I am as soon as I break it,” she continued, getting over her discomfort. “You see, once the shard enters Kalon’s heart, I’ll bring her over. If you thought your Dieffen and Orvis mishaps were bad, wait until the Master comes to Roano’s gates with the wrath of all Darklings by his side. You will regret the day you set your sights on Visio.”
“Whatever happens, Petra, you will not live to see it. We will settle this score,” I replied, shaking in Amane’s firm embrace. “You will not live to see what you’ve been promised.”
“Not even the First Ten can handle what’s coming,” Petra declared. “I’ve come too far to lose it all to a worm like you. You’re insignificant, Esme. I thought you would have learned that by now. You’ve brought this upon yourself, and now you will have to stay there and watch for hours and days on end until Kalon’s heart is Danika’s for the taking.”
I still struggled to fully grasp how a mother could do this to her own son, but there was nothing I could do to stop the transfer. As the minutes ticked by, and we all watched the inevitable unfold before our eyes, a new situation arose. Kalon would have Spirit’s shard. And I would have to protect him at all costs. Kalon would be like Thayen, and that hurt me beyond words.
We’d only just fallen in love. We’d only just bound our souls to one another.
As much as Petra was enjoying herself in this moment, I couldn’t bring myself to grant her this victory. I wasn’t alone up here. I had Reapers—some ancient, some younger. I had my brother, currently holed up in Valaine’s memories, determined to bring the Unending back to the surface. I had Derek and Sofia, Rose and Caleb, Lumi, Kailani… I had friends up here and waiting down below, too. Seniors and Orvisians. A handful of ghouls and Kalon’s brothers. Trev. A dragon.
No, Petra had not won this battle yet. This battle would only end with Petra’s last breath. Everything else? We’d handle it, one way or another. Kalon and I would survive this. I had made him that promise, and I intended to keep it.
Tristan
The next past life that Valaine and I visited wasn’t like all the others.
It felt different. This time, I could see the world of Visio through the eyes of a little Aeternae girl. I took comfort in knowing we wouldn’t witness her death, this time around, since her reincarnation was much too young at this point. It was early in the morning, and the sun was pouring through the large windows of a massive hallway. Outside—beyond the elegant frames and smooth glass—the east wing of a mansion rose proudly, featuring turrets and a reddish brick façade. Below was an interior court with lavish gardens and water fountains. Gardeners worked on the hedges, trimming and cleaning them.
The little girl was at home here, and it felt good to see all this. She looked forward to the first blossoms of spring. Opening one of the large windows, she felt a chill run through her limbs. Mornings were still cold this time of the year, but it would gradually warm up during the day. The land was gradually thawing, and she’d had enough of the snowy winter.
One of the gardeners looked up and saw her. He smiled and waved, and the girl waved back. Her father had taught her to always be respectful toward other people, no matter who they were or where they hailed from. There were no Rimians or Naloreans in sight among the service staff, so I assumed that we’d made it back to a time when the Aeternae empire was still growing.
The little girl, however, couldn’t care less. She didn’t even know there were such creatures as the Rimians and the Naloreans. In her mind, only the Aeternae existed, and they were beautiful and graceful, violent and everlasting. The combination startled and fascinated her at the same time, but she would soon grow up and accept these various facets of her species.
She closed the window and continued with her promenade through the sun-kissed hallway. The walls were painted a delicate shade of cream with white baseboards and crown molding, together creating a tasteful contrast to the dark hardwood floors. She wondered why her parents hadn’t used marble like she’d seen in other mansions, until she remembered her father once said that the wood would help keep this place warm during the winter. She was glad, because she loved walking barefoot.
White stone statuettes adorned the hallway, mounted on bronze pedestals. They were portraits of the girl’s mother, father, grandparents and great-grandparents. Each carried the features and grace of the Razelyon dynasty, with small noses and cupid’s bow lips, oval faces and round, peach-like cheeks. There was glory in their name, for they’d stood tall and proud alongside the Nasani and the Visentis bloodlines from the very beginning. She had been taught to cherish her legacy.
Looking up, the ceiling was painted, covered in scenes of the Aeternae’s birth. She recognized some of the key figures that were there that
day, including her uncle Kemi and her aunt Mira, the Aeternae Lord and Lady Supreme of Visio, succeeding the Unending herself. The Razelyon and the Nasani dynasties shared a common gene from before they were all made Aeternae, and that made them closer to one another than to any other noble family. Her grandparents were up there, as well, heralding the arrival of the Unending. They had studied the skies for years, and they had seen the bright light coming to Visio.
At the time, they’d been worried that the light might destroy the planet, but as it approached Visio, it had begun to slow down. In the middle of the scenes, the Unending was depicted wearing a white dress and black gloves and featuring long black hair and ruby-red lips, her skin like porcelain, her eyes filled with stars. Endless rays of white light beamed out from her form to spread all across the ceiling, granting immortality to the Aeternae. Of course, the Visio people were not known as Aeternae at that time. Not yet.
“We were Trakkians,” the little girl murmured. Creatures of habit and invention, of comfort and progress, of boundless curiosity and dreams of a brighter future. They’d lived to be a hundred years old and considered themselves lucky. Now, however, they were Aeternae, looking forward to forever. She wondered what it must’ve been like for her grandparents to say goodbye to their mortality.
At the end of the hallway, there were two rooms across from one another. On the right was her parents’ bedroom. Their voices could be heard through the closed door. They were engaged in a heated argument, and it made her feel queasy. She hated when they argued, though it seldom happened. On the left was the girl’s bedroom. She stopped near their door for a while, listening to the exchange.
“We cannot let anyone suspect her,” the mother said.
“She has a hard time controlling her instincts, my love. She’s stronger than her previous incarnation. It will be revealed sooner than later, I’m afraid. The Darklings are paying attention, even though the last Black Fever cycle ended less than a decade ago,” the father replied. “I’m confident some of them were present at her birthday celebration.”
“Do you suspect anyone in particular?” the mother asked.
“Perhaps among the Shatal or Amos families,” the father said.
They were talking about the little girl. She’d been having strange moments lately, and hearing them discuss this so feverishly made her feel bad. She liked seeing them happy, always smiling and looking forward to their days together. But lately they’d been spending more time together behind closed doors, arguing over their concerns about her.
“We must tell the Lady Supreme, at least,” the mother insisted. “You know Mira would gladly help. If our daughter is the Unending, she will want to help set her free. We have a small advantage now, because the new cycle has only just begun.”
The little girl had a hard time reconciling this suspicion of theirs with who she was. She didn’t feel like the Unending, and she wasn’t sure how that even worked. There were times when she lost herself, when she didn’t remember what she’d done and where she’d been. Could that be what had them so worried?
“You’re right,” the father said. “But we’ll need to seek a personal audience with her, which is difficult these days, especially with the Darkling resurgence. We’re nowhere near another Black Fever outbreak for now, but if Maira begins manifesting more of that darkness, someone will certainly fall ill. If anyone puts two and two together and starts suspecting Maira…”
The little girl’s name was Maira. Maira Razelyon. Her parents were Issa and Georgios Razelyon. By blood, they were Mira and Kemi’s second cousins, and their families’ close relations had led to the little girl being given a name inspired by the Lady Supreme’s own.
Walking away from the door, she went into her room and stopped in front of the mirror. She might have been named in honor of Mira Nasani, but she was nothing like her. Her hair was long and curly, the color of black ink. Her skin was pale, and her eyes were a blue so dark, they appeared almost black. At moments like these, she felt as though she looked more like the Unending.
She wondered how much truth there was in her parents’ suspicions. She remembered moments when she’d felt the sudden cold darkness rush through her, as if she’d just dipped her toes in ice water. At night, she was never really alone. As soon as she put her head down on the pillow, she’d sense the embrace of someone or something filling her with yearning and a sense of familiarity, as if she’d spent her short life missing out on certain parts of herself. It was difficult for her to understand her own nature, but she tried not to give it too much thought.
Her mother had taught her that there was more to life. That she should enjoy the sunlight and the wind, the perfume of flowers and the color of the sky. She should feel the rain on her face, the ocean lapping at her feet, the snow melting in her hands. There were wonderful things, and there were curious things—scary and sad things, too, and they all came with life. Her lessons were why she didn’t keep her mind occupied with her strangeness for long.
She looked at her own reflection for a while. Her nanny had chosen a champagne-colored dress with gold thread embroidery and tulle sleeves. She’d put ribbons in the girl’s hair and a gold pendant on a delicate chain around her neck. For a moment, she didn’t feel like herself anymore. I didn’t feel like myself, either. It felt strange, but there was the faint anticipation of something else coming...
Deep down, I felt sorry for her. She was going to die someday—maybe soon or maybe in ten thousand years or so, like the others. The cycle would be reset. It had already happened. Maira just didn’t know it. Gradually, her image started to change. She grew taller. Older. She wasn’t Maira in the mirror anymore.
The fabric of her dress shifted, losing its color and sparkle. It became white, the purest white I had ever seen, tightly sewn around her bosom and flowing freely down to the floor in translucent layers. Her hourglass figure was faintly visible beneath. Her hair had grown long and straight, each thread made of luscious black silk. Her face… oh, her face was beyond beautiful. Her eyes pierced my soul, hiding countless galaxies and solar systems within them, each twinkling in a myriad of colors. Her lips were blood red and full, capturing a drop of sunlight with a mesmerizing glint.
This wasn’t Maira anymore. It was her. The Unending, and Maira was suddenly terrified and confused. She didn’t understand what was happening, but she didn’t move away from the mirror, either. The woman in the reflection was the Unending, and she held out her hands. Black leather covered her slim and delicate fingers. Each movement was graceful, almost an impression rather than a physical act.
“Maira… you must remember,” the Unending said.
The girl stood frozen in place, staring at her strange reflection.
“You must remember who you are. They’ve done us harm. They’ve trapped and tortured us. If you don’t remember, they will do it again, and each time you wake up, it will become harder to remember.”
“Unending,” Maira murmured. “You’re the Unending.”
“I am you, my darling child. And you are me. Please, remember!”
I felt her agony. Her desperation. I felt it all as though it were mine. But there were other feelings growing inside me, of different intensities. Curiosity. Hopefulness. Love. So much love, I realized, at the sight of this incredible entity. Finally, I was seeing the Unending for who she really was. Her true face, with snow-white skin and cherry lips and dark hair and troubling eyes…
I had fallen in love with Valaine, yes. But I had also fallen in love with the Unending, long before I’d ever set eyes on her. She stood before me now, her reflection rippling in the mirror as she implored the little girl to remember, and I made myself a promise.
A promise that I would stop at nothing until she came back. Until she was free.
“You must remember,” Unending said.
“I’ll help you remember,” I told her, though I wasn’t sure she heard me. After all, I wasn’t really there. This moment had already happened, millions of years ago
. This was the past, and it couldn’t be changed.
But then Unending smiled softly. “Tristan, my love…”
My heart stopped. She’d definitely heard me. The Unending had heard me.
“Help me remember,” she said. “Stay with me. Take my hand and help me remember.”
She reached out, her fingers pressing on the other side of the mirror. I touched the cold surface through Maira’s little hand. I wasn’t sure what would happen. Suddenly, everything shifted. The room vanished, Maira included, and all that was left in the middle of the nothingness was the Unending and me, touching each other’s hands.
Power surged through me. Power unlike anything I’d felt before.
“We finally meet face-to-face,” I whispered, my heart swelling.
Unending gave me a faint nod. “I thought this day might never come…”
Her voice echoed through me. I’d made it. I’d found her, and she had found me. Outside, the world was falling apart. The Darklings had caused enough death and suffering to earn themselves eternal damnation. Innocent people had been dying. Reapers had been tortured and forced into forsaking themselves. The universe as we knew it had come to an end a couple of times already.
But in here, it was quiet and peaceful. Just me and the Unending.
I’d made a promise, and I intended to keep it. The next time I went back to the surface, back to the real world, I would do it holding the Unending’s hand. It was time for her to return.
The universe needed her.
ASOV 85: A Shard of Soul
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A Shade of Vampire 84: A Memory of Time Page 24