A Shade of Vampire 85: A Shard of Soul Read online

“I hope she will forgive me.”

  “You’ll have to forgive yourself,” I said.

  She moved in closer, and our lips met. Warm light spread through me, filling my veins and making my soul glimmer from within. I could stay like this forever in the nothingness, in the Unending’s delicate embrace. It was quiet here, and peaceful. The world outside was merely an idea, something we could comfortably kick aside and ignore for as long as we wished.

  But being here also made me feel incomplete. It made us feel incomplete. I wanted to be with her, and she wanted to be with me. We couldn’t really be together in here, not while this voided space served as an in-between place, a membrane to adhere to while we bounced from one set of memories to another. We had to keep going. We had to find the whole truth and return to the real world.

  And once we got there, the Unending and I would do our damned best to make it better. To make the quiet of the nothingness feel as insufficient as it truly was. The universe needed the Unending, and she needed me.

  “How do we dig deeper, my darling?” Unending asked, as if she’d just heard my thoughts. I offered a shrug in the absence of a coherent answer. “It’s your voice I hear whenever I scratch at the glassy surface between my conscious and subconscious. It’s your voice I follow into the past. I trust you, Tristan. I trust you with my existence, with my soul… with everything.”

  Her words were meant as an encouragement, though I had to admit, they also made me feel a bit overwhelmed. Unending had placed a great responsibility in my hands, and I was terrified of the concept of failure. I couldn’t accept a possible scenario in which I wouldn’t be able to bring her back to the surface. Then again, we’d made it this far, and I was clearly the only one whose mental projection had survived. Morning and Phantom were nowhere to be seen. I had to keep going.

  “Remember your very first day as Maira Razelyon?”

  She thought about it for a few seconds. “I do, yes.”

  “Could you describe it to me?”

  “I’m in my mother’s arms. She’s smiling even though she’s tired. I can see it in her eyes… the exhaustion. It’s been days since I was born, and my eyesight is getting better. I’ve been wandering in blurred colors and shapes until now, unable to make sense of everything. She holds me close. I’m swaddled in white linens with golden embroidery along the edges.” The Unending closed her eyes as she relived the moment. “Yes, her face—it’s beautiful. Even when she’s tired from birthing a life, she’s beautiful.”

  “Okay, now can you go farther back? Perhaps to those blurred colors and shapes you mentioned? What sounds do you hear?”

  The Unending let out a deep breath. “I’m crying. I suppose I’m hungry… or maybe it’s just the troublesome inconvenience of finding myself in this small body, sore from the laborious process of being born. I don’t know, but my mother’s voice soothes me. She makes promises I now know she won’t be able to keep.”

  There was a tinge of bitterness in her voice. But I could hear her mother, too, like a faint whisper in the back of my head.

  “You’ll be an amazing Aeternae, my love. You will grow and live to be a billion years old.”

  A gold thread appeared by our side. It was barely visible, like a fisherman’s line with amber reflections. I showed it to the Unending, and she smiled. “There it is,” she whispered. I slipped an arm around her waist as she reached out and touched the thread.

  “We’ll do this together,” I said, and we both held on to it and each other.

  The nothingness dissolved again. A green pasture began to spread out in every direction, seemingly forever, beneath a bright blue sky with cotton-white clouds scattered across it. The sun was out, and I could almost feel its warmth seeping through my vampire skin. It was only an illusion, but a sweet idea, nonetheless.

  In the middle of this greenery, a woman was running. Darkness poured from her like black ink spilling out of a bottle that tumbled on and on. She was crying, the tears mingling with the darkness in her wake, her bare feet sinking into the tall grass.

  “Keryn,” the Unending said. “My name is Keryn.”

  We both ran alongside the Aeternae woman, worried we might miss something important if we didn’t keep up. Keryn stumbled and fell. Her knees were scraped through the pale pink dress, her long black hair spreading over her shoulders like a silky cloak. My heart broke for her because I recognized the symptoms. I’d seen them in Valaine before.

  “There’s no use in running, Keryn,” the Spirit Bender said, and I knew it was the Spirit Bender because the Unending recognized him. He walked behind us, casual and relaxed, without a care in the world. “I’m going to get to you sooner rather than later.”

  “Leave me alone!” Keryn cried out. She got up and started running again. The Unending and I followed, though I had a hard time looking away from the Spirit Bender.

  He wasn’t alone. There were dozens of Aeternae walking behind him, each of them cloaked in black and wearing the Darkling mask. “Darklings,” I murmured. “The first ones.”

  “Let me show you all how it’s done, so you don’t summon me whenever you trip on your own two feet,” Spirit hissed, taking out his scythe. I’d only read descriptions of the double half-moon blade with a long handle, but the sight before me was truly frightening. I wondered if his soul had been copied along with its blade. Had both been compressed into those twelve shards, so that Spirit would never be without his weapon? Or would he have to use a loaner from one of his fallen colleagues? His original scythe could control spirits, bending them to the Reaper’s will.

  Losing one’s autonomy and freedom like that seemed like the worst nightmare come true. And now, Spirit had set his sights on Keryn. Unending’s first incarnation would soon die, as the Darklings learned how to contain and reset the third seal’s cycle, setting the stage for approximately five million years of Aeternae growth and expansion.

  Tristan

  “I wish we could do something to help her,” the Unending whispered as she stood by my side.

  “There’s nothing we can do. This has already happened,” I replied.

  “I know…”

  We stood in the middle of the plain, surrounded by endless greenery. The sun was out. I couldn’t feel its warmth on my face, but I might get to someday soon if I managed to survive the next few days. We had a cure, after all.

  Keryn stopped running, her shoulders rising with each deep and ragged breath. Darkness rippled outward from the core of her being. The suffering of a tormented Reaper materializing into a toxic and deadly energy. Spirit motioned for the Darklings to keep their distance.

  “If you get infected, you die,” he said to them. “Even once she’s dead.”

  They stared at her as she turned around to face Spirit. He smiled, walking toward her. His scythe glimmered in the sunlight, its blade eager to slice through Keryn’s flesh. Seeing the Darklings so far away now, I couldn’t help but draw a parallel to Kalon’s situation.

  “You couldn’t have done anything to prevent what happened to him,” the Unending said, her hand gently clasping mine. I looked at her, somewhat surprised.

  “How do you know what I was thinking?”

  “We’re in my head, Tristan. I can hear your every thought. You opened yourself up to me the moment you first came in here,” she replied. “It’s okay. If we liberate my true form, I’ll be able to help Kalon. I can feel it as an indisputable truth.”

  “It’s sad, how all we can think about are ways in which we could’ve prevented one tragedy or another from happening,” I muttered. “Esme is struggling with guilt of her own. Had she not hesitated for those few minutes upon seeing me under your influence, she thinks Kalon would’ve made it safely out of your reach.”

  Unending offered a sigh, her brows pulling closer. “I’m deeply sorry for what I’ve done. But Esme cannot possibly consider herself responsible for any of this. She was forced to choose between trying to save her own brother and her lover. I would’ve hesitated as well, ha
d it been me in her shoes.”

  “I’m done running away from you,” Keryn shouted, fists tight at her sides.

  “I was going to catch you anyway,” Spirit replied.

  “Why are you doing this to me, brother?” she asked. The question seemed to trouble the Reaper. He frowned, measuring her from head to toe.

  “Oh, it’s not Keryn I’m talking to, huh?”

  I froze, realizing why this first incarnation of Unending’s was so important. “You remembered yourself,” I mumbled. “It’s you speaking through Keryn.”

  When she didn’t answer, I turned my head to find tears streaming down her pale cheeks. She nodded slowly. “I was awake here, yes. I see it.”

  “My darling, this is the price you’re paying for pushing me away,” Spirit said. “I offered you a better existence, and you rebuffed me. I couldn’t let you become a thorn in my side. Surely you understand. You, of all people.”

  “You killed Erethiel,” Keryn said. “You swung the blade. You took his life.”

  “By Death’s order!” Spirit growled. “I told you! I told you she asked me to do it!”

  “You could’ve said no,” she said. “If you truly cared about me like you often claimed, Spirit… you would’ve said no. You would’ve gone out of your way to see me happy. I was happy…”

  The Darklings were silent, watching the conversation unfold. Some had their masks off, but I didn’t spot anyone familiar. There were no Seniors among them—not that I could see, anyway, and none were among the surviving two hundred I’d personally met when Esme and Kalon had first brought them over to Orvis. They stood back and did nothing as Keryn crumbled under the pressure of her own power.

  Her body was failing. Dark veins cut across her skin, splitting open and releasing black smoke. Her Aeternae form was too weak to hold a Reaper who remembered herself. I wondered for a moment if the same would happen to Valaine.

  “Your happiness with this guy was always ephemeral,” Spirit said, waving his scythe in the air. The movement generated the translucent image of a man. A hologram of sorts. Keryn gasped at the sight of him, tears spilling from her eyes.

  “Erethiel…”

  That was him! The one the Unending had fallen in love with over five million years ago. The one she’d blessed with immortality against Death’s wishes. He was tall and slender, clad in flowing white silk. His hair was long and curly, golden swirls resting lazily on his broad shoulders. There was kindness in his green eyes, a kindness that spoke of an old soul who’d seen plenty and yet had chosen to see the good in people. As Erethiel stood next to Spirit, I could see the glaring differences.

  Spirit’s eyes carried the glow of galaxies within them, arresting in their appeal. And yet his own dark heart made him seem ugly in comparison. Erethiel was like an angel, while Spirit was the devil. Erethiel was light and love. Spirit was darkness and hatred.

  “This is a cruel joke,” Keryn said.

  Spirit waved Erethiel away. “It’s a reminder of what happens when you go against Death. She did tell you not to use your gift, my darling.”

  “Then why give it to me in the first place?”

  “We both know she regretted it,” Spirit replied. “A young creator. She made a mistake, and she couldn’t exactly take it back. Not without destroying you.”

  “So she killed my soulmate instead,” Keryn said, shaking.

  “It had to be done.”

  “Therefore, you had no problem killing Erethiel. Stop telling me she made you do it when you gleefully whipped out your scythe and cut his head off!” Keryn shouted. Tears fell and landed on the blades of grass at her feet. The image, albeit brief, reminded me of the crystalline dew on a sunny spring morning. “I understand why she did it…” Keryn added, her voice fading. “Looking back now, I understand. She didn’t want to destroy me, so she thought that by ordering me not to use my ability, I’d at least get to exist. Death was young, yes. She made a mistake. And I acted like a child, rebelling and throwing tantrums. I see it now. After ten thousand years of being locked in this body… I understand.”

  Spirit seemed worried. “I’m going to avenge you.”

  “I don’t need you to avenge me! I need you to set me free!”

  “See, there’s the problem. I can’t. Because you will run straight back to Death and tell her what I’m planning. I can’t have that. Not while I’m still hashing out the details with Brendel and the other Hermessi,” Spirit said, his tone clipped. “I gave you a chance to be my partner so that we could both teach Death a lesson. You chose this, my darling. You only have yourself to blame for being in this situation.”

  The darkness swelled around Keryn as she raised her hands in the air. A pulse burst from her chest. It spread all around her, and it intensified with its expansion. Spirit brought his scythe down and stopped it from doing any real damage. The grass in a fifty-yard radius around Keryn’s bare feet was blackened and dried out, but Spirit had prevented it from stretching and killing everything in its path—the young Darklings included.

  “Now you’re just lashing out,” he muttered.

  “Immortality renders Death obsolete. It’s something she could never accept, and I understand why. It’s selfish, and she hurt me deeply. But I would never plot revenge against her. And you’re foolish to even think you can get away with it,” Keryn said, raising her chin in defiance.

  I felt anger. It coursed through my veins like liquid fire. “She was selfish. Death, I mean. For putting you through the misery of losing Erethiel.”

  “I was angry with her for a long time. It’s why I came to Visio. This place was supposed to be my refuge. My healing space. I gave a more conditioned form of immortality to the Trakkians as a means to get back at Death. She had Erethiel killed, but I had hope that she wouldn’t wipe out an entire species just to prove her point, especially since I’d put limits on their eternal life.”

  “The decapitation and the removal of the heart,” I whispered.

  “Yes. I put those conditions into my gift to the Trakkians. I was trying to prove a point. Of course, I deeply regret it now. I guess I know how Death felt when she made me.”

  “But you never turned against her like the Aeternae turned against you,” I said.

  “No. I went ahead and kept using my ability, just to spite her. And my weakness gave Spirit an opening.”

  Shifting my focus back to Keryn, I could see the darkness swelling around her form. I could barely see her face at this point, her rage manifesting in a terrifying way. I wasn’t sure how much longer her body would last. She didn’t look good.

  Spirit took a step forward, and Keryn screamed, releasing another pulse of toxic energy. He diffused it again, almost effortlessly, then smiled. “You’re not capable of taking me on. Not while you’re stuck in a physical body. Especially one that is obviously crumbling,” he said.

  “I won’t let you hurt Death,” Keryn hissed.

  “Well… it’s not like you have a choice. I own you, Unending. I have put three seals on you. My own recipe, from Death’s hidden words. And I’m about to fortify that with a failsafe. You really need to stop digging through your head, going forward.”

  Keryn stilled, her black eyes glimmering with fear. I recognized that look. I’d worn it myself more than once, and especially since beginning my dealings with the Darklings. “Spirit, you reckless fool…”

  “Brilliant, perhaps,” he corrected her.

  “Do we know what failsafe he’s referring to?” I asked, and Valaine shook her head.

  “I guess we’ll find out later.”

  “You know what? I reject Death’s premise that all things must come to an end,” I said, giving the Unending a sideways glance. “This is what it was all about, really. So why? Why kill something if it’s good? If it’s doing good. If it helps this universe grow in so many ways… why end it?”

  The Unending looked at Keryn. Her incarnation moved forward, furious and determined to take the Spirit Bender out. We both knew she would f
ail, but the Unending couldn’t help but watch her own demise all over again. Then she moved her attention back to me, leaving Keryn and Spirit to their heated argument.

  “All things must come to an end… it’s part of a world order I was created into,” she said. “It’s not in my nature to question the basic tenets of life and death. I’ve always considered myself to be an anomaly. An exception to the rule. Your insight is appreciated, but in the end, you’re merely a blip in the fabric of space and time. You all are.”

  “Maybe. But why not challenge the tenets if they don’t feel right?” I insisted. “Death must’ve had that in mind when she created you, when she gave you such incredible power. Immortality. Eternity. Time loses its value altogether, but for those of us who love living so much, time doesn’t matter, anyway. Imagine what this world would be like if we had the option to keep going. To never stop, unless we wanted to.”

  “And who gets to decide who deserves to live forever?” Unending replied. “Me? Tristan, you’ve seen my faulty judgment. It wouldn’t work. Since before there was even a concept of time, this world has unfolded in three planes. The world of the living, the world of the afterlife, and the space between. It’s in the latter that I truly belong, with my fellow Reapers, not in the world of the living. There is an order to this universe and the realms beyond it. I’m afraid it’s something your mind cannot yet fully comprehend.”

  “Oh, I absolutely do,” I said. “What I’m trying to say is, while I appreciate the idea of an afterlife even though I have no idea what that entails, I also appreciate the ability to extend one’s existence for as long as possible. We all swoon over the concept of immortality, but how long before we start to get bored with it? How many worlds will we witness as they’re born and as they eventually die?”

  The Unending chuckled softly, though her humor faded when Spirit finally bolted and aimed his scythe at Keryn’s head. We were both silent for a little while, watching as her head rolled through the tall grass. Blood dripped from Spirit’s scythe, the fallen droplets joining Keryn’s tears along the bent green blades. The idea of morning dew faded, and my heart broke for Unending’s first incarnation. This had been her end.