Page 53 of Twisted Bonds

I turn away, reaching for a different branch.

I’m laughing with the other Shards. Sparring with them for fun. Joyful.

Sneering at the image, I find another way down the complex web of truths. Then time slows and I’m at the final destination of this vision. I can feel it in my bones, the pink Chroma finally rolling into a low hum. This is what it wanted to show me.

A ritual performed at dawn, fire all around while lightning cracks in a city of fresh ruins. The Vessel is being sacrificed by Yurghen. She shrieks in pain, reaching for me. Crying my name. For my fractured soul. I howl in frustration, tears leaking down my cheeks as I fall to my knees, begging Malicryn to intervene. Begging Yurghen to choose someone else.

But I can’t help her.

I watch as her soul leaves her body. Above, The Great River splits the sky in half as it pours lost souls into the city streets. The demons of the underworld lurk and prowl, feasting on them. Just as the Vessel’s soul finds its way to one such monster, another soul latches onto her body.

I can’t tear my eyes away as the demon gnashes its teeth, ripping apart her life force.

And something inside of me breaks.

New life finds Mira’s body, but her voice and even her demeanor are different. Lofty and cruel, a permanent sneer across her face. This is someone else using her body to come back to this world.

My study comes back into focus. The scent of mulled wine fills my nose. Mira’s eyes are large and concerned. I’m sprawled on the floor, heavy breaths rising frantically in my chest. I scramble out of her touch, pulling back as I knock over furniture.

“Tairyn?” she pleads.

“Leave me!” I roar, but she doesn’t budge.

“What’s wrong?”

“I said leave me.” My Chroma flies out of my hands before I know what’s happening, blinking back the fading visions. Purple magic swirls around her, shoving her roughly towards the hallway.

“Stop this. What happened?” She screams just as she disappears through the door. When she’s finally gone, I collapse, clutching at my panting chest. The images of a discarded Mira, her soul lost and her body commandeered, are a horrendous nightmare that plays on repeat in my mind. It’s a fate worse than death. It’s an existence stripped away.

Similar to the one I’m promised, it seems. It’s a stark realization that leaves me torn between acceptance and rebellion. Do I succumb to my fate as a mindless follower, or do I fight against it and risk losing myself even further?

I have no future as the person I am now, that much is clear.

Gritting my teeth, I force myself to stand up from the cold floor, running my hands through my hair. My mind is a whirlwind of chaotic thoughts and images. Mira’s body possessed by another brings a bitter taste to my mouth.

The smell of Mira lingers. The scent of spiced mulled wine that I’ve grown to associate with comfort and teasing banter now feels like an unwelcome invader in the room. Like the presence of a ghost, it hovers, clinging to the air.

“Shit,” I hiss, pacing around the room nervously, the vicious cycle of ‘what ifs’ gnawing away at my sanity. The tapping rhythm of my fingers against the wooden table echoes throughout the silent room. I try to focus on that sound, let it ground me back into reality.

This is exactly why I ignored the vision, why I refused it. If she hadn’t touched me at that moment…

I sigh at my own stupidity. At my bad luck.

twenty-five

Mira

For hours I pace the length of my appointed rooms, waiting. For what… for whom… I’d rather not admit to myself, but I can’t get his face out of my mind. The terror and shock as he stumbled away from me, like I’d just stabbed him with a poison tipped blade. Eventually, I climb into bed and notice something is different.

I press my hands into the bed. Once. Twice.

A grin blossoms, spreading from cheek to cheek. Tairyn replaced my feather mattress with memory foam. I shake my head, amazed, as I pull back the sheets to inspect it. Sure enough, I see a set of tags that I’ve seen tons of commercials for.

How did he get this here and with such short notice?

Another mystery I’m not likely to get the answer to. The moon hangs high against the starry sky when I finally give up trying to sleep, wrapping myself inside a thin white bathrobe and pad down the eerie corridors. Down two sets of stairs.

I bite my lip, second-guessing myself. No, this is dumb.