Chapter 15 #2
Just before he stepped through, he thought he heard Lucien, where he rested fitfully on the settee, mumble words drawn from whatever nightmares plagued him:
"Vesperin, don’t look. Don’t look. Please—"
The words died on a whisper of air as the portal closed behind Auren, and he found himself standing somewhere high.
Wind ripped through his cloak, the roar a testament to the height he was at. It burrowed beneath his hood, threatening to push it back from his face. He held it with one gloved hand, the other still gripping his scythe.
The glow of his Star slowly dulled, taking that enticing awakening sensation with it.
Strange. The call ebbed, yet he had reaped no Soul.
Auren stared at where he was. One of Solar City’s many satellite towers.
The grated metal of it was unwavering even against the wind from such a height.
It groaned and swayed, built to withstand anything.
The top was hexagonal, a small walkway with a thin barrier overlooking the drop below.
Auren peered over the edge, not holding on.
It did not frighten him. The ground was so far it was shrouded in fog.
In the distance, high-reaching skyscrapers pierced through the fog, looking like lonesome beasts crawling up from a cavernous pit of nothing.
At the very top of the tower, a needle stretched high into the sky, a red light blinking steadily.
Why had he been called here?
His scythe had never failed him. What changed?
Auren prepared to portal away, but something kept his boots stuck to the ground—a sense of knowing. Something deeper than himself.
A preternatural thrum made him still. Slowly, he turned his head, one hand still holding his hood.
Shadows dripped from the top of the needle, pooling down the metal and coiling on the ground. He felt their chill through his boots, yet remained steady—like the tower. With a low hum, the shadows swept up, forming the wavering shape of a man.
Auren knew.
He bowed his head. "Celestial."
Auren wanted to see, yet felt as if he looked upon such an ancient, all-knowing entity, his eyes would pop in his skull and turn to liquid, dribbling down his cheeks, unable to remain whole from bearing witness.
He stared at the grates below him. Fog slithered over the tips of his boots and disappeared far, far below.
"Soul Searcher." The words filled the windy air. Deep. Masculine.
Auren’s jaw worked. Dare he speak?
"Auren Neris," the Celestial continued, "I have been watching you. Look upon me."
As though a thread lifted his head, he looked up at the shadowed being. It was a dark mass, ripples of glimmering lights nestled inside. The shadow held a man’s shape, but Auren knew this was no man.
"I was called here by you," Auren began. He feared his voice would fail him, but was pleased when it was strong, if quiet with awe. "Celestial, I am here at your bidding. Do with me as you wish."
Atlas let himself look at the one called Auren Neris—the one fated to Vesperin. He was a strong male. In Soul and body. He was a good fit for her. He would protect her, this Atlas knew well.
Just as Atlas knew, one day he would grow close to the Soul Searcher—though by the time that bond deepened into something like family, he would no longer bear the mantle of a Soul Searcher—he also knew Auren loved Vesperin.
He was saddened that he could not reveal himself fully to Auren, but he had made a vow to himself long ago that the first to truly see him again would be Vesperin.
He held her, felt her in his arms. She had seen his shadow, been nudged by his hand. But he wanted her eyes on his. To be filled with knowing and longing, to slake this ancient ache within him that could only be quelled by her touch, her voice—directed at him.
Atlas felt grief at what was to come.
He pushed the words past his shadowed lips. "I have called you here this night, Auren Neris, because Earth is dying."
Auren resisted the urge to stagger back. "What? That is not possible. That cannot be—Earth is…" He shook his head. His hand fell from his hood, and the wind succeeded in pushing it back from his face. His blonde hair whipped around him violently, getting in his eyes.
"Dying," the Celestial finished. "The Celestials are angered by the path Earth has taken—the path forced upon it by scheming Souls. The Rogues that have infected Earth since its creation were not planned, but an aberration. A consequence of evil. Earth will die, and every Soul upon it. Soon."
Auren could not take a deep breath. Earth was his planet of charge.
It was his. And—Vesperin. He felt faint.
She would die. Again. He could not bear the thought.
He had to leave with her—with the others.
They could take a ship. Now. As soon as he returned.
Flee the galaxy. Find a home on a distant planet, one uncharted. They could be voyagers of a new empire.
Unable to stand straight, Auren’s back pressed into the weak, thin railing behind him. It groaned from his weight, the drop looming. He would welcome it to awaken from this nightmare.
"Why tell me this?"
"So you will know and have hope. You will feel the call, greater than ever. You have felt it before, have you not?"
Auren remembered that stirring of unease inside him. It had been transpiring for some time. "Earth has been dying for a while?"
"Yes, and its end draws nearer."
Auren’s mind scrambled to make sense of the words. "Okay," he finally said. "Why is it I have been called to hear of this?" He was a pillar, unfaltering. He was the satellite tower upon which the Celestial’s words beat.
"I have called you here for a purpose. One that is bigger than all of us. I have called you here to demand something of you that goes against your very nature. That is, I wish for you to ignore the calls you feel—from this point until the end."
"You wish… You wish for me to ignore my purpose?"
The shadow bobbed, as if nodding. "You have my blessing to ignore every call you receive. Your purpose is greater now. Other Soul Searchers will reap the many Souls that fill the Earth. Do not worry—they will find their way to the Stars to be reborn."
"What is this new purpose you bestow upon me?"
"Time will tell." A great wind moved through the silence of the night. "For now, do as you have been."
"If that is what you wish," Auren murmured.
Inside, he was reeling. The shadows ebbed, and fear filled him.
He drew in a sharp breath. "Wait!" The Celestial paused.
Auren waited to be struck down, for his Star to burn in punishment for demanding something of such a being, but it never came.
The Celestial waited patiently. "I am to stay on Earth"—the words were so hard to say—"until its end? I cannot leave?"
The Celestial’s voice was filled with sadness. "You must stay on Earth."
"What about the others? I cannot warn them or—or…" He would stay if he must. He would die the worst of deaths. But Vesperin. He would bargain with his very Soul if it meant she would be carried from the same fate.
"You have someone you care for?"
"Yes. I do."
"She will thrive. I swear it to you." The Celestial’s words were knowing. "Auren Neris, you may not tell a Soul of this night. You are sworn to secrecy."
"I swear it," he whispered hoarsely, knowing it was a lie. What would become of him if he broke his word to a Celestial? Would his Soul shatter? He would endure it.
"That is not enough. You must make an oath. Any word of this meeting or the knowledge that has been imparted upon you will die upon your lips if you attempt to speak it. Swear the oath."
Auren’s half-hearted plans fractured, swallowed by the wind. "How?"
"It is the same way you swore an oath when you were given immortality as a Soul Searcher in the Stars."
Auren didn’t remember that. He remembered nothing of being in the Stars, or any life he lived prior to this state—never aging, never dying, always working. If he had a life before this, he did not know of it. He knew nothing but his blade—and now his Soulbond.
"Your scythe. Use the blade to slice your palm. Not too deep. Merely enough for blood to well. Place your palm over your bare chest—your heart. Then repeat after me."
As Auren obeyed, a strange recognition stirred within him. His Soul remembered the movements; though, his mind did not.
He did not feel the pain as he used the edge of his scythe to cut his palm. He cut just a bit deeper than needed, wanting to wake up from this terrible dream.
"I, Auren Neris," said the Celestial. Auren echoed the words. "Vassal to the Stars and the Celestials, give up my voice of this night. No words shall part from my lips. They will remain sealed within me. Any words I speak shall die on my tongue. So it is vowed, so it shall be."
Their voices joined, and upon the last word, Auren felt a strange sensation at the hollow of his throat, as if something ancient had settled there.
He swallowed thickly.
"It is done." The Celestial swept a bit closer to him. Though the shadow was dark, it felt like staring into the sun. Auren’s eyes watered.
"Celestials cannot make oaths, Auren, but I hope you will believe my words to be as binding as the oath you just made.
Your Soulbond is cared for and watched over.
She is protected, and she will be safe. She is loved.
" The Celestial’s voice turned thick, heavy with emotion.
A strange thing. Did timeless beings feel like mortals did?
Even as an immortal, Auren sometimes felt he experienced things through a shroud.
It was never enough. "By more than just you and her four others. She is loved dearly. Make her feel it."
With that, the shadow dispersed, like smoke swept away by wind. Leaving Auren alone, standing at the top of the satellite tower with a locked tongue and teary eyes.