26.
Shadows and Memories
Auronmar brought his arms down and saw he wasn’t in his castle anymore. In fact, he was outside in some other part of Demon World, thousands of miles away from his fortress as far as he could tell. This alarmed him not because he had been randomly transported without warning but because it meant his fountain was alone.
He had been, for centuries, trying to manifest and replicate the Dark Blood fountain that had given him his power. It wasn’t till now that he believed to have achieved it. It may not have been as tall as the original—certainly not surrounded by stairs, brick, and colorful heavens—but the water itself, the keeper of the Dark Blood, had been duplicated.
The location of the real one had been kept a secret from him, and Auronmar had been fine with that until Blethinette decided she wanted to ignite civil war. She had access to the Dark Blood when he had not, yet now that he did, he lacked the two people he needed: Dante and Reyna. Since their arrival under his care, the king had planned to give them the power. To pass on his supremacy to them. It was the only way he could—
“Why are you here?” Blethinette’s voice floated through his ears.
Auronmar turned around to see her. He was surprised he hadn’t sense her, considering she was so near. Her question and puzzled face showed she probably couldn’t sense him either.
“Blethinette,” he said.
She twitched and he could see the other emotions on her face. There was frustration in her curled lips and insanity in her wide, glossy eyes. Red caked her cheeks and there was a sticky drip of it running down her chin.
“Blethinette,” he repeated. “Is that blood?”
She laughed. It was a flurry of staccato cracks, something he’d never heard her do. “I killed two by squeezing their heads off,” she said and raised her hands to show to blood on her claws.
Auronmar eyed her. There were no corpses or heads. It was only the unbroken landscape of green fields and black sky. If her claim was true, maybe she had been transported as he had.
“Were you brought here as well?” he asked.
Blethinette lowered her hands and gazed around as if realizing for the first time where she was. Her stiffened shoulders relaxed, eyes blinking as she sighed. A sense of tranquility emitted from her.
“I believe I was brought here as well,” she said, astonished. “This is not where I was a moment ago.”
“You were in the demon world?” Auronmar asked.
She smiled, and it saddened him. Her smiles weren’t the same anymore. “Yes, my dear,” she said, “and I was at our wonderful first son’s home.”
His eyes widened. “You found Verden?”
Blethinette giggled like she was a preteen. “Yes! He is probably dead at the moment. He is dead for all the moments.”
Auronmar’s chest caved in. He had only just discovered he was alive, and she already killed him. He was their son.
“I believe them to all be dead,” she said, circling closer to him.
“All?” A wave of dread hit him.
The crazed intensity from before revisited her ever widening eyes. “Yes. Darkness swallowed them all, including your mortal pets. They are gone. All gone! Our vile of son included. I enjoyed his death twice—”
Flecks of blood flew from Blethinette’s plump lips as Auronmar backhanded her face. She faced him with a snarl, hand on her cheek. He met her fiery eyes with a cool demeanor.
“What did this Shadow of yours do?” he asked her.
Blethinette lowered the hand from her face with an exaggerated motion. “I do not know what you—”
“Do not lie, Blethinette!” Auronmar growled. Crimson ripples inked his eyes red. “It was you entire foolishness that caused so much pain and an unbelievable amount of death. The caliber of these things are beyond a single person’s accomplishments, even for one such as yourself. I ask you again. What did this Shadow of yours do?”
She lost her composure only to recover it. “I do not know,” she spoke with ice in her voice.
“You do not know of your own Spirit?”
“It is not my Spirit in the way Spirits traditionally choose a master,” she spat. “This creature…I believe it brought us here. I am unsure what it did to the rest. To my Mundus.”
His face was rigid, hands into fists. “Mundus? The rest?”
“Yes,” Blethinette hissed. “It claimed about a balance I broke, and I found myself here with you.”
“Balance?”
“I do not know of what it speaks. It was constantly harping about a balance, yet I never listened. It is broken now, yet we still live. Our planet still exists. I do not know what its intentions are.”
“Blethinette,” Auronmar said, grabbing her shoulders and looking at her. Her mismatched eyes were hard; they were not the soft, exotic green they once were eons ago.
She grinned at him, clearly entertained by his stern action. “Why do you gaze at my eyes so? Inquire the question that is on your tongue, dear.”
He pursed his lips, jawed locked for a moment, before he asked, “Was it that which tainted your eye red?”
She laughed, breaking away from his grip. “I Saw it long ago upon the death of Levin.”
Hearing his old Guard’s name, Gahn’s predecessor, made his fists twitch. Auronmar relaxed them and brought a finger to his lips, other hand cradling his elbow, as he watched Blethinette.
“Yes, Levin’s death was my first encounter with this Shadow Spirit. It was simply a glimpse though. A flicker of darkness. It appeared as a dark hand, pulling out a white orb from Levin’s body. Such was all I Saw.” She brought her finger to her red eye and trailed her claw down her cheek, mimicking a falling tear.
“It was afterwards I continued to see it,” Blethinette continued. “However, it only appeared when my See Mahou was activated, and it would only grace over the bodies of the dead, plucking white orbs from their corpses. The glimpses were always fleeting, but each encounter revealed more of the Spirit’s strange, black body.
“The Spirit was always a curiosity but never a threat. It was not until Mundus was sealed by that mortal warrior of a whore that I at last sought it out. It only appeared with death, so death I granted it. I slayed a Lower and awaited its appearance.”
She paused and came up to Auronmar, lowering his hand from his pensive face. She leaned into him as if to kiss him. He looked at her with stone eyes, body still but ready to react should she try to attack him.
“It did appear, my dear,” she said in a whisper. “It appeared and I Saw it in its entirety and it saw me as well, for that was when it first spoke to me. I was never supposed to have Seen it; no living being should have. It had now owed a debt to me, but there was a price for its power.”
“Your See Mahou,” Auronmar spoke.
She leaned away from him. “Yes, dear. My See Mahou belongs to it. The Mahou is forever in use by it through me, leaving my eye forever red.”
Auronmar shook his head. How could she have made a deal with such a creature? It was no Spirit. It was one of higher power. “Blethinette, have you lost your power entirely? Shall it never return to you?”
“Ah, dear. That I shall not say. I cannot give you an advantage on such.”
“It does not matter. We are both aware of our inability to kill each other.”
Her grin exposed all of her fangs. “That is what gives it all such a great thrill. You are unable to stop me as I do what I please.”
Auronmar’s hand shot out and he grabbed her right wrist. He could feel the rough, flaking blood on his palm. It sickened him, knowing it was mortal. Auronmar pierced her skin with his claws. He dug his fingertips through her flesh until he scraped her bone. She hissed, eyes blazing with pain and rage. Her other hand swiped across his face and angry marks dripping blood appeared on his cheek, nose, and lips.
“What possessed you to do it? What possessed you to kill so many humans? Were your intentions not to enslave them?” he demanded as his injuries healed.
She growled, the sound a rumbling in her throat like distant thunder. It was an unnatural from her. “Mundus shall never fall in love with a mortal again.”
Auronmar’s lips parted and his hold on her loosened. He had to resist punching her. Though she needed several of those.
“Such is your reason?” he roared. His own growl boomed like a raging thunderstorm.
She answered with another grumbling snarl. “It is reason enough!”
“What is it that fuels your hatred towards mortals? How have they wronged you?”
“Their existence is wrong enough! The birth of that disgusting human son of ours was beyond shameful. How could such filth be bestowed upon us? Rulers and possessors of the Dark Blood power? Then to have our beloved, true son fall in love with one of them. Twice. No, my dear, they did not deserve to live.”
“Is such all?” Auronmar said, the red in his eyes darkening. “All simply out of your disturbing obsession with our son?”
“Our son does not deserve to be around such putridity! I have saved him! I do not care for the balance I have broken to do so!”
He drew back his snarl. “The balance? You knew of what it consisted? Of its tie to the humans you slaughtered?”
“It is an idiotic balance that has done nothing once broken. All I am aware was its connection with the mortals’ lives and deaths, yet such does not matter. We are still alive!”
“Blethinette, you are mad!” he exclaimed with a sweep of his arm.
She smiled, and it pained him to see it again. Her smiles were long gone. He knew that now.
“Shall you at last kill me?” Blethinette taunted.
“You are quite aware I cannot.”
She bent down to grab the hem of her skirt. “You are draped in your black uniform today. It will hide your blood,” she said, gathering the material till it passed her knees.
Auronmar sighed as he repeated his words. “You cannot kill me just as well as I cannot you.”
The harsh noise of her nails digging through her dress was heard as she tore the cloth into a tattered miniskirt. With two quick strokes of her claws, she drew a slit on each side. Auronmar had to admit the sight of her white legs did deter him for a second, but her voice snapped him back onto the defensive.
“I may not kill you, but I am still able to fight you.” She grinned.
~*~*~
Reyna woke up, but she wasn’t sure if she was really awake. Her eyes couldn’t find anything to focus on; everything was white. She blinked and sat up. Her legs and hands could feel the ground beneath her, but she couldn’t see it. It was just white. No. Not all white. There was a lingering grey in the horizon, like a hovering ring of fog. It looked so far away though.
Maybe I’m dreaming? She slapped her hands down on the floor and felt the sharp sting of the impact. Reyna looked at her reddening palms. Not dreaming, then.
She inched up to her feet. “Where the hell am I?”
Her voice escaped in ripples. She saw clear, visible waves leave her lips. They traveled forward, growing, until they split and dispersed, making Reyna think they bumped into an invisible wall. The curved lines straightened into the generic design of a window pane. Its entire design was transparent and hovered in the air as if fixed into a wall.
Reyna came up to it. She could see the horizon’s hazy grey through the panes. She lifted a hesitant hand and touched the area around the window. It felt solid even though she couldn’t see it.
“An invisible wall?” she said.
Her hand shot to her mouth as another sound wave left her lips. This time, they hit the window. The crystal–like panes erupted with color. It spread, and the window grew along with it until it was twice as tall as Reyna. The colors swirled and stilled into fuzzy blobs. Reyna blinked and they sharpened into a visible standstill of a scene she didn’t recognize despite the fact the people in it were familiar.
Her mother stood with black dress pants up to her stomach and a button up white blouse. Huge pumps were on her feet, but she was still shorter than Mr. Felix. He had on khaki slacks and a baby blue shirt and red tie. Pride visited their faces and grins pulled their lips. Mr. Felix was hugging a long haired Reyna. She was draped in a black cap and gown, the indication of a college graduate. Yellow honor ropes draped around her neck, along with a sash.
The Reyna in the white room let out a weak laugh, eyes absorbing the image. It moved and began to play like a movie. Another graduate stepped up to them. Mrs. Felix laughed, tears in her eyes and she threw her arms around him. He had no honor ropes, but held a diploma in his hand nonetheless. His dark blue eyes smiled down at graduate Reyna, and she laughed. He grabbed her hand and held it, throwing it up in the air in a gesture of success.
“This never happened,” the Reyna in the white room whispered. No waves emerged from her lips anymore. “Why is this being shown to me?”
The screen flashed and another clip played. A smaller, younger Reyna sitting outside on the grass in an elementary schoolyard appeared. Other children ran around her, but she was engrossed by the ladybug on one of the green grass blades.
“What are you doing?” a voice asked little Reyna.
She looked up at the shadow that fell over her to see curious green eyes staring down at her.
“It’s a nady bug,” Reyna told him and pointed at the tiny creature.
The little boy giggled and scratched his head, fluffing his brown hair. “Lady.”
“Huh?”
He sat down next to her. “It’s called a ladybug.”
“Oh,” little Reyna said, face drawing closer to the grass. “Wanna catch it?”
“Yeah!” He grinned.
The image faded and Reyna stared at white again. There were tears in her eyes. That one did happen.
It went on. Clips of what Reyna assumed were somehow part of her life were played. Sometimes they were actual events she lived. Reyna saw flashes of her studying for tests and having sleep overs with Julie where she would always bust out her clarinet. It even showed that one time during her sophomore year when she slipped on some spaghetti on the floor in front of a full cafeteria.
Then the slides began to show Mundus. Reyna blushed as the night of her party was played, and she saw a paned up shot of the demon prince in an unbuttoned shirt. His smirks and growls appeared in every other flash of images. Their talks and arguments were replayed, embarrassing Reyna with her past naiveness.
Mixed within these memories were other glimpses of possible and impossible futures: high school graduation, college parties with friends she never met, the gift of a new car and a new cell phone—finally. It was the ones where her death was seen in detail—stabbed through the chest by Blethinette’s claws, skull crushed by an unknown foot— that left her shaken. One had finished playing only to jump to a wedding. Her wedding.
She and her groom stood under a white arch decorated with tulips and ribbons. Dozens of guests, her parents and Uncle Amon included, sat on the rows of chairs decorated by dragon snaps and bows. The judge on the platform was speaking, but Reyna—the one watching—didn’t hear what he was saying. She was awed by the groom—her could have been husband. Her cheeks warmed so much, it made her eyes water. He’s so handsome.
The scene disappeared and was replaced by something that took her aback. The older Reyna she was looking at was pregnant. Another child stood next to her, his tiny hands reaching up towards his mother’s stomach, but he couldn’t reach. A man entered the picture and lifted the boy to sit on his arm so he could touch Reyna’s belly.
The little boy was a miniature version of the man who held him. Both shared the same black, shaggy hair and black eyes. The boy and his father smiled, their exposed fangs not hindering their expressed happiness. Maternity Reyna grasped the child’s hand, the father’s falling over both of them.
The Reyna in the white room turned away, face red. Her mind was a whirl of questions, emotions, memories, and confusion. She didn’t know how long she had been there, watching these slides of chronicles and possibilities, but each scene had etched into her heart. They had given her cause to laugh or sigh and gasp or cry, yet each one that played had increased the ache in her chest.
“It’s not done yet,” a voice called out. “The stories are not done.”
Reyna looked around but didn’t see anyone. Only white and grey. She looked back to the window/screen hybrid to see the silhouette of a man behind it. When he passed through the panes, the darkness disappeared, but not entirely.
His hands and nails remained entirely black. It traveled up his arms in tendrils. Reyna figured he had them on his chest too because they appeared under the collar of his shirt. It marked his neck and chin, framing his face with tiny, dark branches.
He smiled as he walked up to her. “Hello, Sister.”
Reyna took a step back. Despite his strange markings and the green rimming his blue eyes, she recognized him. “Ram.”
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Author's Note: Dedicated to aaranea for your awesome votes. Thanks so much! :D
And thank you all for reading and for your support! ^-^