Order cocked her head to the side. “What about her Aesir?”
“Whisper vanished, too,” Myst replied. “Even now, I have no idea where he is, though I did find Hrista…”
Edda shook her head. “You left Purgatory.” It drew a discrete twitch of Order’s mouth. Humor, perhaps, because the interruption clearly hadn’t bothered her. I tried not to interfere, for this was not my realm. Not my rules. Edda knew better.
“Hrista left first!” Myst snapped. “It took countless spells and asking around among my sisters and my darker brothers to figure it out. By the time I understood why I couldn’t find her, something even stranger was happening. I saw Berserkers sneaking around, ignoring the wandering souls that they were supposed to collect and bring here for judgment.”
From what I’d learned so far, our arrival as spirits in Purgatory was not calculated nor expected in any way. We’d simply appear in the middle of this vast wonder of a place, with no sense of direction. The realm would immediately analyze and read our souls without us even realizing it. We’d spend a while like that, wandering aimlessly, until one of Order’s forces would come find us. Here, a Berserker could be in five places at once. There were millions of them. Valkyries were just as gifted and just as many. There wasn’t a lack of manpower, but they weren’t dealing with an abundance, either. Then again, time didn’t flow here, so there was no rush.
“They were sneaking around, whispering, always making sure they weren’t followed,” Myst continued, while both Order and Edda listened with interest. She’d caught their attention. “But I kept watching them, until I saw what they were doing. They were coming in and out of Purgatory through shimmering portals that I had never seen before. I kept a tally of who came and went for a while, then noticed some weren’t returning at all. In the meantime, Hrista was still missing, so I thought she might have slipped through one such portal. I worried because none of this was normal.”
Edda scoffed. “Yet you didn’t come to me with any of this.”
“At first, I thought Hrista was just acting out, still reeling from the Spirit Bender’s demise,” Myst replied, giving her Mother a stern glower. “You knew, too. I see it, now.”
“It wasn’t exactly a secret,” Order shot back. “Continue, Myst. And Edda, stop interrupting her. Myst deserves to be heard.”
“At some point, I saw more Berserkers going through a shimmering portal, so I decided to keep an eye out for one of them, in particular. I figured that if I followed him out of Purgatory, I might figure out what they were up to.” She paused to take a deep breath. “I look back now, and I realize I should have come to you much sooner with these concerns, but I worried that Hrista might’ve been hurt or worse.” According to the Valkyrie and the Berserkers I’d met, “worse” meant becoming a shadow hound in Haldor’s crew. “So, I decided to raise the issue with you, Edda. For that, however, I felt like I needed irrefutable evidence. I picked a fight with a Berserker just as he was about to slip through a shimmering portal. It got rough really fast, but I was determined to take him down. He caught me on the wrong foot, and we ended up tumbling through the shimmering portal. I found myself in the fake Shade, this strange place full of living creatures… and both the Berserker and the portal were gone. I had no way of coming back.”
She went on to tell them about the time she’d spent in Hrista’s realm, feeling her presence but never being able to find her. She told them about the clones and the peculiar blend of technology and Purgatory magic that had been used to build their weapons and devices. She told them about the Berserkers and the overall strangeness of the fake island. By the time she brought the story back to me and my ability to open shimmering portals, it wasn’t difficult to tell that both Order and Edda were utterly astonished.
Around us, there were plenty of jaws that had dropped, everyone now gawking at me as if I were the weirdest creature they had ever come upon. My cheeks burned, and I inched closer to Brandon, hoping he might shield me from all the attention. I didn’t like being such a presence in so many minds.
“We were actually trying to get to the real island,” Myst ended her account of the events leading up to this moment. “I was glad… thrilled that we’d made it back here, instead. I know you can do something, that you can stop Hrista. And she really must be stopped.”
Order raised a hand to silence her. No one said anything for a while, and a mild gremlin of anxiety worked its way through my stomach, gnawing and chewing restlessly until Order spoke again. Her voice echoed all the way up to the domed ceiling, making the bejeweled clusters tinkle gently as they moved on their silver strings.
“Be honest, Myst. If you were to go back and do everything again, is there anything you would change with regards to how you acted and when?” the ruler of Purgatory asked.
The Valkyrie looked at her and Edda first. She gave Thayen a lingering glance next before she smiled and shook her head. “No. Everything I have done, faulted or not, has led me back to you. Back home. And if there is anyone who can bring Hrista to justice, I know it in my heart to be you, Order.”
The Time Master and Aphis had been particularly quiet until now. Hammer growled at Aphis, and the ghoul growled back, suddenly drawing attention from Myst and Order. Edda was the first to point an angry finger at the Reaper. “Keep that monster under control. We have the power to destroy him, if we must.”
“Why would you?” Time replied, raising an eyebrow. “He’s done nothing wrong.”
“It’s just playful banter between an Aesir and a ghoul, what’s the big deal?” Brandon chimed in, equally undisturbed. I was inclined to agree. Unlike the rest of us, the ghoul and the dire wolf didn’t have the patience nor the mental complexity to grasp the difficulty of our situation. They tended to respond to threats and delights better than anything else.
“You, Berserker, need to shut your mouth. Nobody asked you,” Edda retorted.
It made my blood boil. “All you’ve done is treat us with contempt, from the moment we arrived,” I cut in. “We haven’t done anything to you. We’re not even responsible for this. Hrista, one of yours, is to blame, and she’s the one we’re trying to take down. She took our home from us, so pardon me if none of us has the patience to jump through these hoops!”
“Astra Hellswan,” Order said, and my blood froze. “Let me finish with Myst, and I’ll get to you in a moment. Edda, please, be quiet. Your anger is misplaced.”
The Mother of Valkyries gritted her teeth, but she took a step back and remained silent. Myst cleared her throat as she looked up at Order. “You can do whatever you want. My soul is at peace because I know I’ve done everything in my power to be on the side of light and justice. Had I been able to return from the fake island on my own to warn you, I would have. I made do with what I was given.”
“So, you really wouldn’t change a thing?” Order replied, slightly amused.
Myst shook her head. “No. Nothing. Everything I have done, every decision I have made… it brought me back to you. I’m not sure I would’ve made it home otherwise.”
“In that case, I accept your reasoning,” Order said. It surprised even Edda, but she didn’t object. “You are cleared of any wrongdoing, Myst, daughter of Purgatory. You are welcome back into our realm, with full rights and privileges restored. I believe your Aesir will be very happy to see you.”
Myst laughed lightly, though there was a hint of sadness in her voice. “We’ve already been briefly reunited. Thank you.” She bowed before Order and moved to the side, joining a rather sullen Edda. She gave her mother a slight nudge, managing to conjure a weak smile, and it hit me then. Edda was just playing the part of a hard ass. She was pleased to see her “daughter” cleared, just like the rest of us.
“Brace yourself,” Time said, his voice low. I glanced over my shoulder and found his galaxy eyes fixed on me. In front of him, Jericho and Dafne appeared just as worried. “Order will speak to you next. Remember, there’s nothing we can hide from her…”
“
Just be you,” Brandon whispered, and I gave him a smile. It was the only thing I could do until I heard my name on Order’s lips again.
“Astra Hellswan. Step forth, please.”
She didn’t follow a queue order this time. But she’d been good to Myst. Correct in her decision. I dared hope she’d show me the same courtesy. I bowed politely and raised my gaze to meet hers. “It’s an unexpected honor, but an honor, nonetheless,” I said.
“So, you can open those shimmering portals like Hrista,” Order replied, getting right down to business as she leaned back in her gilded throne.
“Yes. Though I have only recently become aware of it, as Myst has already told you.”
“Do you know why?” Order asked, and I shook my head. “I imagine Hrista might’ve had a theory or two…”
“She said it had to do with my Daughter and Sentry genes. It is a unique mixture that resulted in my ability. Since she never got a chance to study me—not that I would’ve let that evil bitch anywhere near me—I cannot take her assessment at face value. I’d rather hear your opinion,” I replied. It made her laugh.
“Hrista may have been on to something,” she said. “Your Daughter nature stems from the Hermessi—either life or death or both, depending on who created the Eritopian Hermessi that made you. I’m sure you remember that whole Ritual shindig with Brendel and the likes. We heard about it all the way here.” Order paused for a moment. “There is also an Oracle gene inside you, passed down from your father, and Oracles are gifted by the Word. One way or another, Death thus meets life inside you, Astra, and so does light, somehow. Don’t ask me for the particulars, I’m not an expert on accidental hybrids. A world of possibilities is awakened through your creation. Opening shimmering portals is the tiniest of things you are capable of, my dear, and I hope you have a full life ahead to discover everything in your power.”
I couldn’t help but glance back at Brandon. He’d been the first to say something similar. He’d felt my power, my true potential, before anyone else. Even my mother and aunts had had no idea of how complex my nature truly was.
“Berserkers and Valkyries feel the strength of your spirit,” Order said, as if picking up on my thoughts. “Myst, Brandon, Regine, and Haldor… and especially Hrista, they sense it. They know what they’re up against. Given that you’re a creature of life and light, your survival instincts will always act as catalysts to unleash the potential inside you.”
“So if I wish to tap into my full strength, I must let someone try to kill me? Is that it?” I blurted, annoyed by the concept. It seemed unfair. I’d learned to accept that adversity bred great character and even greater powers, but for once I would’ve liked to hear someone say there was an easier way to get to the top. Of course, I was more than willing to do the work. It just sucked that I had to.
Order nodded once. “More or less. Survival instincts respond to violence and immediate danger. But you are also capable of surreal planes of concentration and meditation. Sooner or later, you’ll find the formula that works best. Whatever it is, you must work at it and never stop. The universe did not plan for you, but I’m certain it is thrilled and curious about you…”
“You speak of the universe as if it were sentient,” I murmured, fascinated not only by her words, but by the enormity of this whole encounter. I, a mortal, stood before Order, the ruling force of Purgatory, well past the realm of the dead. A couple of weeks ago I’d found philosophy treaties to be the most challenging among my tasks.
“But it is,” Order replied. “It does not need to manifest itself or to speak to you directly, but it is conscious on a cosmic level. It sees and hears and feels everything. Once in a while, it’s even intrigued by a special creature. Intrigued enough to demand its full attention. You’re too small to understand or feel this, but I resonate with it, much like Death and the Word and other forces under its authority. You’ve got the universe’s attention, Astra Hellswan. I admit, I’m fascinated, but I wouldn’t dream of making you feel uncomfortable in any way. You are welcome in Purgatory, though I hope your stay here is as brief as possible. I find you innocent of any charges brought against you prior to the White Hall of Judgment. You’re free to leave.”
“Thank you,” I replied, my mood shifting into a more positive one as I moved away from the never-ending line and stood next to Myst and Edda.
Order smiled broadly as she looked at each of us once more. Myst and I had already provided her with a good opinion. Thayen, Jericho, Dafne, the Time Master and Aphis were still mysteries, and she narrowed her eyes as she read deeper into their souls—or that was my impression, at least. Brandon had warned me that Order’s gestures and micro-expressions were not easy to read, or at least were easy to misinterpret. Therefore, any impression she may have given me was not an absolute value.
Everything could change in the blink of an eye, and I realized how painfully true that warning had been when Order set her sights on Brandon next. “Step forth,” she told him. “We have a lot to discuss, it seems.”
The earlier good vibes began to fade away as Brandon broke from the queue and stood tall before his maker, hands clasped politely behind his back. He had the discipline of a military man, but the mischievous mouth of a rebel. He had the strength of a thousand men, yet the slender, athletic figure of a dancer. Well, the physical manifestation of his spirit had that, at least. I imagined Brandon could’ve made himself look different, too, but he’d mentioned once that Berserkers and Valkyries usually retained their original forms, mirroring the living creatures they had once been. It was a way to retain their sense of self, Brandon had said.
“You stand accused of many ugly things,” Order told him, looking worried. “You left Purgatory. You consorted with Hrista and other Berserkers. You betrayed me and everything you stand for. Tell me, Brandon, is any of this true?”
“Yes and no,” he replied calmly, though the fires in his gaze were white.
Right there, in that instant, something changed between him and Order. From the moment he’d said yes and irrespective of the no, his maker shifted uncomfortably in her chair, and I knew this conversation would not end as nicely as Myst’s or mine. This conversation would lead to something deeply unpleasant, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about it.
The mere thought of any form of punishment against Brandon made me uneasy. It even sent a sharp pang through my heart. Hammer became restless, though he stayed close to his Berserker. I suspected the Aesir knew a little bit more than I did, and he didn’t like this, either.
Thayen
While I had experienced tremendous relief to observe that Order’s judgment was, in fact, fair and balanced, something told me it wouldn’t go as smoothly for Brandon. I understood why he’d done everything, both good and bad, since before we’d even crossed paths.
Yet as he spoke, as he told Order about the abductions, the sample collections and the many other errands he had to run for Hrista, it became obvious that Order didn’t like a single word coming out of his mouth. Brandon had chosen to serve Hrista because she’d threatened to destroy his Aesir—such a fate would’ve turned the Berserker into a mindless shadow beast, eventually drawn to Haldor, reduced to almost nothing more than hunger and violence.
“You helped Hrista achieve her goals,” Order concluded.
A muscle ticked furiously in Brandon’s jaw. One quick look at Myst told me she was just as worried. “I had no choice,” the Berserker said, his tone clipped. “She had Hammer.”
The dire wolf sat on his hind legs, mostly quiet but for the occasional whimper of distress. Order, however, did not seem impressed. “You had multiple choices. You simply picked the one that served you best.”
“Yeah, I picked the one that didn’t get Hammer destroyed. Not to mention me!”
I was beginning to see why he’d complained about fairness earlier. This certainly didn’t seem right, and I doubted my input would do much good. After all, I was just a living creature, a trespasser in Purgatory, a fly in Order’s most
precious domain. None of this felt right, and the Time Master echoed my sentiments perfectly. “It’s not going to end well for him,” he whispered.
“What the hell do we do?” Jericho asked.
Dafne sighed. “I’m not sure there is anything we can do. We’re virtually powerless in this place. Order could squish us like the tiny bugs that we are.”
The irony was glaring, considering that a dragon had said those words. But there was truth in her statement, and not a comfortable one. We couldn’t help Brandon, regardless of how much we wanted him to get through this as well as Myst and Astra had. Order wasn’t in a forgiving mood anymore. “Brandon, you could have put the wellbeing of others above your own,” the ruler of Purgatory said. There was the shadow of doubt in her voice, but the statement resonated clearly across the White Hall of Judgment. The Berserkers were cross, already cursing under their breaths but none dared to speak up. “You knew that what Hrista was doing would hurt innocent people. You chose to be an active participant in that process for the sake of saving your Aesir. That was selfish. Do you deny it?”
“How could it be selfish? I went through a shimmering portal that Hrista opened so I could save Hammer. Once I was in that foreign realm, the portal was shut, and I was stuck there.”
“You left Purgatory,” Order insisted, stubborn to a fault. It angered me beyond belief.
“I did it for Hammer! An Aesir, a being of Purgatory that did not deserve to suffer or to be reduced to a mindless shadow,” Brandon insisted.
“You did it for yourself,” Order replied. “Because you could not fathom your existence altered by the loss of your Aesir. The losses that the Shadians have incurred because of your actions seem to be lost on you. Who knows how many will die because Hrista had your support? I shall ask the same question of your fellow deserting Berserkers, and I know I will get the same answers.”
A Shade of Vampire 91: A Gate of Light Page 18