28. Phaeron
At the dawn of my life, a set of scholars had taught me what it meant to be a prince. A straight posture was a requirement; composure, a necessity. To be a prince meant achieving perfection.I’d caught glimpses of the ideal prince within me, though perfect was always an impossible standard.
Shadowborn were instinctively drawn to dark, quiet places. We’d evolved on a planet shaded by eternal night as protectors, there to eliminate unseen threats so the rest of our kind could thrive.I was meant to have a territory to patrol, unceasingly seeking out the next fight until my True Light called me home and into her arms.
There was also the rage, a trait inconvenient and inferior to my station. Yet it so often simmered under my skin, reminding me not to remain in one place for long. I’d tried to heed my tutors and snuff out its sparks and heat, but it remained part of my core being, the blame of its reoccurrence straddled somewhere between the instincts of a shadowborn and the inferiority of a second prince.
I hated when there were witnesses to when I lost control. I always sought solitude to hunt and exist without the judgment of society or man.
But first, while balanced on a knife’s edge of self-control, I looked for Cress and found her scent lingering in Highfall’s Mall, twined with Geo’s earthen tang. She alone had the power to ground me.
But they’d left the mall by that point. I was the only living person in the whole complex.
Alone.
I took form far from the battlefield where the Hungering Darkness fell. My chest rose and fell in shallow gasps for air. I was too hot; my clothes and armor were too tight. And even with no manmade lights shining overhead, the numerous panes of windows high above made this mall too fucking bright.
Shadows erupted from my skin while I screamed a shadowborn’s howl. Magic and power answered my call, and I wrapped myself in a cloak of night and became a destructive creature with a wolflike head and a trailing tail of spikes. My fingers lengthened into foot-long talons, shredding sidings and tile like ripping paper.
“Myuna!” I raged. Every uprooted sign and display could’ve been her, thrown, shredded, and ruined.
I pictured her paranoid face, the rage and fear that’d twisted her face from the Void’s wisdom: “She will defeat you before you have a chance to spread your influence on a new world.”
But the narrow-sighted monster had only seen what was before her, not the scope of what the Void could see. A prophecy from a Vess was supposed to be taken with a cynical ear, for it was most likely the madness and the laughter speaking through them.
I continued my rampage, imagining tearing her throat out with my teeth. Did goddesses bleed? Or was she simply a hollow vessel, a stretched-out form of clay that would deflate from a mortal wound?
She’d trespassed against me personally, worse than I could’ve ever imagined. My wobbly memories conjured Keshora, and my pace faltered a moment. I squeezed a guardrail over the three-story drop to the bottom of the mall, leaving behind an impression of my hands.
Keshora, as I knew her, was a weaver and a mother. A proud but unlikely second princess. I’d returned from war to find that, in my absence, she’d given her heart to two girls, Ravita and Brazita. When I tried to imagine their nicknames in her voice, only the throbbing of my heartbeat filled my ears.
“She who would mate the son of night and fight you alongside his daughter.”
I made a sound of pain low in my throat. It was ludicrous. Myuna thought the Void’s prophecy would be crushed like so much smoke as long as she killed Keshora and Ravai, two women who’d never been a threat to her.
“It wasn’t referring to either of them,” I mumbled, as if the truth would bring them back.
Unlike the wreckage I’d left behind me, I damaged the railing purposefully, creating a ledge for me to sit and dangle my feet and tail over the perilous drop. My power receded in tufts of smoke, exposing the rawness of my expression. What I thought was anger twisted and revealed itself as the chest-cracking grief that pounced the moment I acknowledged the truth.
My brother was dead.
My family was murdered.
My world was destroyed.
And my people were scattered and endangered, unlikely to unite as a kingdom again.
At the center of it all sat Myuna, gorging and laughing in her death knell of a voice. Fear and revulsion shuddered through my body. If the Void’s prophecy was to be believed and her assumption of my identity as “the son of night” correct, then I was a central figure to her end. But the one to wield the sword would be Cress, aided by Braza. I was two crucial steps from setting that destiny into motion.
I inspected my hands. Blood and smears of white-ish powder clotted under my nails and in the creases of my skin. One step would be easier than the other. I had no doubt Cress would agree to carry my mating mark, but I still needed to cobble together a proper gift for her.
And Braza… I cursed under my breath. I’d ruined that relationship with careless, unguarded thoughts. We’d had powercores on Soiluire, but she’d been the first I’d known before her transformation. Though she had become other, it’d been tactless to shout in my head that she wasn’t the daughter I remembered and marvel at how strange she’d become upon shedding her mortal flesh.
I couldn’t remember the last time she’d called me Father, a consequence I deserved and one that would not be reversed with a simple apology. I would produce a grander gesture for her for the right reason. Not just to kill Myuna, but to give Braza back the life she deserved.
“Well,” I said, scrubbing my cheeks to rub away the self-pity, “idleness is the enemy of progress.”
I fixated on my new mission, becoming a spirit that popped in and out of being only to take what I needed. Clothes were last, for when I cleansed the filth of battle from my skin. First, I sought abandoned shops for rare spell reagents. The couple I found were already ransacked, most items of value already taken.
No matter. I was chasing another memory, a ritual few supernaturals would remember and fewer still would approve of. I filled a box with powders and tonics that’d been overlooked on their shelves. I tucked in a few potions of a vibrant hue of purple that matched Cress’s hair. I’d noticed earlier that some of the strands were reverting to a dark brown, a sign that she needed to renew the dye.
There was one reagent no shop would sell, and I found myself browsing the guardian witch sections of each one I visited, looking for a suitable replacement. The best I could find was the scale of an earthen dragon, and that was a lucky, as it was hidden under something else in a nearly empty display case. It wasn’t much on its own, just a matte disc the color of dried mud, but I felt the latent power within it as it sat across the length of my palm.
The most powerful supernaturals in this world were those that took a dragon’s shape. As unlikely as this scale was for the task I required of it, it would do if I did not acquire a better alternative.
Evening was beginning to touch the sky as I considered what to find next. Traditionally, I should present Cress with a gift made with my own hands. But I didn’t have time for that, not with Myuna breathing down our necks. I would make her something she’d cherish if we made it back to the safety of New Salem and Moongrove Academy.
In the meantime, I sought comforts for her. As night fell, I encountered more unnaturals stirring from their nests. They met a swift death as I emerged from the night with each sighting. It felt good to have two blades in my hands again, though most of Myuna’s creatures required little effort to slay.
The occasional roaming torchbearer added hours to my quest, as each time I unbound a soul, I ended up with an unconscious body that needed to be carried to Cerris City Library. I felt Braza tracking me coming and going, though she didn’t try to talk to me as I added a few people at a time to spare containment rooms.
Past midnight, there were no more unnaturals to kill. I sensed the wrongness of that fact when I dared take form in a beauty store and chill dread creeped up my scalp while I busied myself with inspecting labels. There was a baffling amount of makeup products, lotions, hair care, and serums in this store.
I stilled halfway into my search and turned in the direction of soft footsteps. There was a soft gasp and a scuffle. Human sounds.
“Hello there. I won’t hurt you,” I said.
“That’s exactly what a monster would say.” She sounded young, and I caught myself rolling my eyes despite the circumstances.
“None of Myuna’s creatures speak. That’s how I know you are not one. You may apply the same logic to me.” I glanced down at myself and hoped she wasn’t a shifter or vampire, able to see the state I was in through the dark. My shirt was in tatters, and I still bore the grime of battle, new and old. “Would you like me to take you to a safe place?”
“I thought I had a safe place.” She was peeking around a display of nail polishes, and I caught a glimpse of her aura, that of a witch who hadn’t picked an affinity yet. I drew a layer of shadows over my torso when I noticed that she was aiming a phone light in my direction. “Oh! You’re the dimensional from the stream. Are you here to rescue me?”
I tilted my head, bemused, and fibbed, “Yes.” I would take her to the hospital no matter what. She needed to evacuate with the rest of the survivors we were protecting. “But before we leave, I need some advice.”
The girl ended up being an employee who was living in the back room of the shop alone. She was more than happy to help me load up on things Cress probably wanted. I left with a couple heavy bag of various products and her in my shadows, plopping her on the front steps of the hospital and disappearing the moment she turned to thank me.
I returned to the library to deposit the bags next to the other items I’d found, finally turning my attention toward making myself presentable. First, a shower. I luxuriated in the cool water even though it ran in the various colors of blood and battle off my form. I was cleansing my wounds a second time when the feeling of dread returned.
Power intensified in the air, and I clutched my skull, wailing from the pressure bearing down on me from all angles. It lasted for all of a minute before abruptly disappearing. I shut the shower off, breathing heavily.
There was no questioning that Myuna had done something awful. But what could it have been?
Braza tentatively brushed my mind. “I know you’re probably resting…” she said.
“My next rest will be when Myuna is dead,” I replied.
She had a way of holding her silence a way that felt disapproving.
“I shall come to you shortly.” I didn’t need her to be concerned for me, even though I muffled a yawn at the thought of rest.
“I shall be ready,” she murmured.
The fatigue I was running from threatened to catch up with me as I dressed in the set of too-tight clothes that’d been left here earlier and prepared what I was going to say in the mirror. I had to keep moving. Though I did pause by the bed to catch a breath of the scent lingering on the sheets. The perfume of Cress’s arousal and my magic, intertwined.
Heat pooled in my groin. I’d make her my mate on this bed now that my soul was whole.
I shook my head sharply and turned into shadows, leaving before I could fantasize about it further. Taking form in front of the domed powercore, I forwent the formality of bowing and asking permission to enter. Braza was already formed of black and purple energy in the middle of her small space, hands on her hips, tail flicking as she took a good look at me.
I didn’t give her much of a chance to speak before I swept her off her feet and into a hug. Whatever she was going to say rolled into a squeak of surprise, then she hugged me back, curling her wings into a looser second embrace.
She fixed her luminous powercore eyes on me, a little furrow in her brow. She was undoubtedly searching my mind for an explanation, but the rehearsed words had evaporated away already. I was, perhaps, more fatigued than I expected. I held her more firmly, enough that her body dimpled and static tingled on my skin. “I’m sorry,” I said in the language of our people.
“About—”
“I’m sorry, Brazita,” I corrected myself.
Her breath caught. Though I didn’t think she needed to breathe, some gestures transcended death and ascension into a new form.
“Recent events have forced me to look at what I have become, and there is much I would change,” I continued. “Starting with my failures as a father. I have much to apologize for, but I hope we can repair the damage between us.”
Her smile echoed a brightening of our surroundings. The immediate joy and relief were unmistakable. “I would like that more than anything,” she murmured. She angled her head, and I met her halfway, our foreheads touching. A sign of trust and affection for our race blessed with sharp horns.
There was an echo of Cress’s chastisement in my ears, once uttered in this small space. “The fact that she’s here and that she made me Guardian of Moongrove Library was all for you.” Braza had been trying to reach across the gap this whole time.
“I want to apologize too, for holding you in containment for so long,” she said.
I shook my head. “I’ve already accepted your reasoning and come to peace with the missing years. If I hadn’t been contained for that period of time, how would I have met Cress? Your actions guided my destiny.”
She wiggled, and I realized I still had her held up off the ground. I placed her down and she beamed up at me. “You’re happy with her,” she said knowingly. “It’s time.”
“Tomorrow.” I was pleased at the approval I felt from the electric currents of her power. The tether between Cress and Braza made them close in their own way. No one was cheering on Cress more than my adopted daughter. “But first, I have to tell you something.”
A hint of wariness touched her voice. “Okay.”
It was easier to show her. I took her hands and closed my eyes, letting the memory of Endaeron’s last moments float to the front of my mind. Reliving the Void’s prophecy was no easier a second time, and it was tied up in other thoughts Braza undoubtedly skimmed from my mind.
Her energy-formed fingers were starting to feel warm in mine as she took from my body heat. She was silent for a while after witnessing what I’d seen and concluded about Myuna’s actions afterward. I only hoped she’d picked up that I would’ve come around and apologized to her with or without this glimpse into the past.
When she finally spoke, it wasn’t about the prophecy at all. “What you’re planning to give me is illegal by supernatural law.”
“But do you want it?” I asked.
She glanced away, lip caught between her teeth. “Every gargoyle forgets their past life,” she said.
“A purposeful flaw, I imagine. Otherwise, the supernatural world would be flooded with witches chasing immortality.” I squeezed her fingers, surer than ever that I wanted to try to do this for her. “I have Geo, who may allow me to study the spells keeping him animated, and an abundance of time. I would make the body perfect for you so you can have the life that was stolen from you so long ago. No human law will stop me from trying, only your word that you wish to continue on as a powercore.”
She took in our surroundings, releasing a sigh weighted by centuries of unceasing service. If I thought I was tired, all I had to do was listen to her to know what true fatigue sounded like. “I…I do want to be alive again. But how will we hide a female gargoyle? And who will power Moongrove Library?” she asked.
“We’ll figure it out. Besides, you switched places with the powercore in this library, now empty save for temporary containment of torchbearers. There’s never been a better time for you to go missing.” I nodded slowly to myself, seeing it play out in my mind’s eye. “We will blame Myuna, and this library will remain empty until another power source can be found. In the meantime, I will hold your soul in a suitable temporary vessel.”
I pulled the dragon’s scale from my pocket, and she took it to inspect. “This isn’t a purified fae crystal,” she said skeptically.
“It is the best I could find for now. I have faith it would be able to contain your soul long enough to give me time to source a proper gargoyle heart,” I said.
In answer, she gestured overhead at the powercore above us. “All of this is my soul now.”
I glanced up with a thoughtful hum. “Perhaps I should find you two. One for each half.”
Though I’d never been involved in making gargoyles directly, I knew the magic-washed stones chosen for their hearts were selected for the lattice structure within. If I phrased the question correctly, maybe one of the Crystal Court fae would be willing to sell me two without realizing what they were for.
“I shall write down everything I remember about gargoyle creation. Between us, we can figure out the spells and materials.” The smile she offered was fragile with hope. “Once Cress and I defeat Myuna for good, we will have all the time in the world.”
I’m sure mine was as well. “There are a few last things I need to retrieve from the city. Perhaps when I return, we could sit and talk for a while?”
“I’ll be here,” she said wryly.