Page 47 of Twisted Bonds
“I don’t know what to say…”
“I feel I should be honest with you, Mira. I never had any intention of finding you or the others. I considered it at first. We grow up knowing our souls fold in and out of the Great River for eternity, and there’s comfort in that. Even if you don’t get things right this time, you have infinite more chances at life. Being a Shard means I’m incomplete. When this body dies, my fractured soul won’t be accepted in the River and eventually devoured by the Underworld. But after some reflection, I realized I was okay with that outcome. I’d enjoy the days I have doing things I love, like reading and learning about histories.”
He takes a deep sigh, resigned as if breaking some terrible news to me. “I don’t want to merge with the other Shards back into Dan’thiel, Mira. I’m sorry.”
It was as if a dam within me had finally burst and the emotions, like a tidal wave, overflowed and crashed onto the banks of my consciousness with a deafening roar. Tears roll down my face, unsettling in its rawness, as I start to ugly cry into my hands.
Callum wraps around me, his arms holding me tight while he whispers apologies, but after a minute I manage to speak through sobs. “No, I’m happy, Callum. I don’t want that either. Humans don’t know about the Great River. I mean, yes, some people believe in reincarnation, but I didn’t. As far as I knew, I only ever had one life. I want to spend it with you. And Sunder and Bobble. I don’t want to lose any of you.”
He pulls back until he’s staring deep into my puffy face. “This is true?”
“I didn’t realize how much it was weighing on me. I haven’t told Sunder or Bobble, but I don’t feel like it’s a decision I get to make. It’s their soul, their eternity. Not mine. So, if they want to merge, it’s selfish for me to stop them.”
He nods, my words clearly mirroring his own internal struggles.
“Even so, it isn’t just about them,” Callum says, his voice hoarse with emotion. “It’s about you too, Mira. You matter.”
His words strike me like a lightning bolt, illuminating a part of me I like to pretend isn’t a gaping wound. I cry again, though this time is different. This time, the tears aren’t painful; they’re healing. I’m slowly realizing that he’s right.
I do matter.
twenty-two
Tairyn
A flash of bright firelight bursts across my study, the papers before me grabbing the orange warmth greedily. I suppress a sigh, pulling out the very-human pocket watch out to check the time. Not that fae or High Elves need a precise time. Our ancient animal instincts guide our perception of time, along with Mother Nature, of course.
Still, I like precision. And Mal is precisely thirteen minutes earlier than usual for these check ins.
As her face forms in the hearth, I lean against my desk with arms crossed over my chest like a shield. I wipe the sneer that’s formed on my face, assuming my neutral yet displeased face.
Immediately her voice is shrill, sending an alarm spiking through me. “We’ve got a problem.”
“What’s happened?”
“Nothing yet,” Malicryn begins, her features contorted with worry. The fire crackles in the background, casting wavering shadows onto her face. “But he finally shared his plan with me, and our roles in it.”
Deliver the Vessel. That’s my only role, or so I thought. “Tell me.”
She doesn’t even quirk an eyebrow at my demand, which is truly telling for how consumed she is. “He’s going to break open The Great River, and he’s gathering an army to ward off any challengers to his plan.”
A cold shiver runs down my spine at her words, my heart pounding with the force of a war drum. That’s not just a river - it’s the spiritual life-force of our realm. I press my lips together, buying a moment to process.
Impossible, I decide. But…
“But why?” I press on. “To what end?”
“I don’t know,” she says simply.
“And our roles?”
“Protect the Vessel during the ritual.”
“What does she have to do with the Great River?” I ask, genuinely confused. When tasked with delivering the Vessel to Malicryn and Yurghen, I assumed it was an act of revenge.
“That’s what you’re worried about, Tairyn? I just informed you he’s going to rip apart the afterlife, and you’re concerned about her?”
Even without the flames, I’d feel the heat in her eyes. I tap a steady rhythm against the dark mahogany table beneath my fingers. My gaze locks with hers through the flickering flames.