CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
39
Elara
“The Book of Styxfall. A mage’s forgery, it transcended time and space, a legend whispered on the wind. In the wrong hands, they said, it could rewrite reality, unraveling the very fabric of existence. Hidden away in the Universe of Time, the Book held secrets both glorious and perilous. It reveals its heart only to those deemed worthy. A chosen one, a powerful witch... or someone who merges their essence with a trusted vassal.”
Bethany’s nimble fingers danced through my hair, braiding the long strands into a neat ponytail. Back then, I sported flowing locks, a choice I’d recently abandoned in favor of a more manageable cut. As she worked, her voice flowed, laden with knowledge. Mom must have filled her in, entrusted her with the Book’s history since its forgotten genesis. It was no surprise; Bethany revered wisdom, and that’s precisely why I looked up to her – a lot.
“So,” I interjected, “how does one merge with another body?”
“Ah,” she hesitated, “through blood.”
A grimace contorted my face. “Blood? Absolutely not. No way.”
Bethany chuckled. “The Book isn’t quite the Book of Styxfall anymore, you see. It’s been fractured, scattered across a desolate universe. Now, it’s called The Shadows of Styxfall. To access its heart, you need to share blood with someone. But not just anyone – a special someone the Book deems worthy alongside you.”
“Ew. Is it really necessary to share blood with someone?” I wrinkled my nose, feeling repulsed at the thought.
Bethany, ever the nature enthusiast, finished braiding my hair in a single, sleek plait that ran from the crown of my head to the nape of my neck. She knelt before me, her eyes sparkling with an almost religious fervor. “There’s a powerful passage in the Book of Styxfall,” she began, her voice adopting a reverent tone. “‘To seek knowledge is to wield power. Power demands sacrifice, and sacrifice fuels the pursuit of knowledge. The cycle continues endlessly.’“ She continued, “This sacrifice is a requirement for those seeking wisdom from the Shadows of Carfex. Even then, acceptance isn’t guaranteed. Blood, curse, blessing – it matters not. The Shadows hold the ultimate power to bestow, or withhold, knowledge.”
A yawn escaped my lips. “Frankly, the Shadows of Styxfall and their precious book can take a flying leap. I have no desire to barter with blood for some dubious knowledge, Bethany.” I stood, my hand reaching out to hers. “Besides, who needs some dusty tome when I have you? You’re the only sister I need, bound not by blood, but by an unyielding bond. You’re my free wellspring of knowledge, a far cry from that cursed Shadows nonsense.”
Bethany grasped my hand, and with a yank, I pulled her to her feet. We stood shoulder-to-shoulder, gazing upward at the breathtaking expanse. The sky, a canvas of deep indigo, twinkled with a million diamond stars. “This,” I declared, a smile tugging at my lips as the wind whipped through my braid, “this is how I choose to see the world, Bet. You and I, together, facing whatever comes our way.” My words were barely finished when a gentle breeze swept over us, carrying my voice away and sending my braid whipping playfully in the air.
There was a comfortable silence between Bethany and me until she spoke, which held a note of quiet joy. “I’m glad you’re finally getting a chance to enjoy the sky and all its stars, El.”
“Honestly, nature still gets under my skin,” I admitted, a wry smile playing on my lips. Bethany knows how brutally honest I can be. “But because of you,” I added, tracing a lopsided heart shape with my finger across the inky canvas of the night sky, “I’m learning to appreciate it a little more.”
Bethany caught the gesture, a soft giggle escaping her lips. I joined in, the sound echoing in the cool night air. “You inspire me a lot, Bet,” I continued, my gaze meeting hers. A single dimple graced her cheek.
“I wouldn’t call myself an inspiration, El,” she replied, her voice a touch husky, as if on the verge of a whisper.
“Nonsense,” I scoffed playfully. “You, alongside your twelve slightly-less-brilliant sisters, yes, even me,” I winked, earning a full-blown laugh from Bethany, dimples deepening, “are the sharpest minds I know. Sometimes, I can’t help but envy you, Bet. The way you constantly push yourself to learn and master new magics, it’s truly inspiring. I want to be like you. Maybe I can’t replicate your exact path, but I can strive for that same unwavering spirit. The one that drives you to keep pushing, no matter the obstacles. Because you never give up, Bet. That’s what I freaking admire most about you.”
“Gosh, you’re saying so much. I don’t even know where to begin...” Bethany’s voice trembled, on the verge of becoming emotional.
“You can start by recognizing how amazing and incredibly talented you are, Bethany Vance,” I replied, pulling her into a gentle hug that gradually tightened. It felt comforting, reinforcing our bond.
“Elarabeth Vance?” she whispered, her voice barely a breath against my ear. We remained locked in our embrace, without breaking apart.
“Yes, Bet?” I returned in a gentle murmur.
She inhaled sharply, her voice hitching. “I… I need you to start seeing yourself the way I do, Elarabeth. You’re incredible. Breathtakingly so.” A tremor ran through her, and the hug tightened. “You have this incredible strength, this… this unyielding will to help others. Even when it tears you apart, you fight the monster within. It’s inspiring.”
My heart ached at the raw emotion in her voice. There was a sincerity, a vulnerability that left no room for doubt. This wasn’t a pep talk, it was a plea. “Bethany…” I began, my voice laced with concern.
“One day, Elarabeth,” she continued, her voice dropping to a low whisper, “you’ll seek the truth. The truth about what happened to… to me.”
A knot formed in my stomach. This cryptic utterance was so unlike her usual forthrightness.
Concern etched lines on my brow. I released our embrace and looked directly into her eyes. “You know I’ll never pursue ‘knowledge’ from the ‘Shadows of Styxfall,’ Bet,” I assured her.
A tremor ran through Bethany’s lips as she tightened them into a thin line. “One day,” she muttered, the weight of the unspoken hanging heavy in the air, “...you’ll have to...”
Panic clawed at my throat. “Are you alright, Bet? Is there something wrong? Something bothering you, sister?” My voice trembled with concern.
“Right now, Elarabeth... I can’t say. Because a part of me feels like that day might be the end for me.”
My heart hammered against my ribs. “Hey, hey, hey,” I soothed, stepping closer. “Don’t talk like that, Bet. You’re a vampire, a witch for crying out loud! You’ve got more life in you than a pack of murdanes.” I reached out, gently cupping her jaw to turn her face towards mine.
“But what if I don’t want it?” she whispered, her voice barely a tremor.
The world seemed to tilt on its axis. “Wh-what?” I stammered, completely bewildered.
“What if I don’t want this endless life?” she repeated, her eyes searching mine with a depth I hadn’t seen before.
Frustration mingled with worry in my gut. What had gotten into Bethany? She’d been withdrawn lately, cloaked in a veil of melancholy I couldn’t fathom. But this... this was a whole new level. Talking about her own demise like it was a casual Tuesday afternoon?
A flicker of understanding sparked in my mind. Perhaps it was the isolation. Unlike me, Bethany wasn’t always by my side. Lately, she spent most of her time with Mom, honing her magic under the tutelage of powerful mages. It meant less time for playful banter, less time for the comforting presence of my twin. In her absence, our ten warrior-built sisters probably saw their chance, filling the void with their usual brand of teasing and bullying. Maybe that was it, the lack of a constant companion, that had Bethany feeling so lost.
With newfound resolve, I pulled her into a tight embrace, my hand instinctively reaching for her hair, stroking it gently. She needed comfort, and I was determined to give it to her.
I murmured. “Whatever’s going on, we’ll figure it out together. You and me, side by side, just like always.”
Bethany’s voice hitched, thick with emotion. “Remember,” she whispered, “to seek ‘knowledge’ if anything happens... to...” There was something undeniably troubling her, a shadow lurking behind her eyes. While I wasn’t a fan of her cryptic references to the “Shadows of Styxfall” business, I chose to ride the current of her distress.
“You know I’d never merge blood with anyone, Bet,” I murmured, stroking her hair in a slow, comforting rhythm. “That’s a boundary I won’t cross. Never.”
She took a shaky breath. “One day...” she trailed off, her voice barely a whisper, “...you might have to.”
I decided to tune out the ominous prophecy. Back then, I swore an oath to myself: no blood. Especially not human. Artificial reserves and the concoction my mother formulated for her twelve daughters – that was my sustenance.
On occasion, during haunting expeditions with my warrior sisters, I did indulge in animal blood.
It was during those outings that I learned to appreciate them beyond their boisterous personalities.
From them, I gleaned the art of the haunt and honed my fighting skills.
That vow – no blood – I held onto it fiercely. Until now.
A jolt ripped through me, the gasp escaping my lips far louder than intended.
I tore myself free from the suffocating embrace of my past memories, the lingering remnants clinging to me like cobwebs.
It felt like an eternity trapped within them, reliving the same scenes on an endless loop. Bethany. The very thought of her was a phantom presence, her scent a lingering echo in the air. Was I losing my mind, or was it the insidious influence of Carfex’s Shadows? Bethany had warned me. This place, notorious for its mind games, was a crucible, unearthing hidden truths and secrets in the most unsettling ways.
“The trickery of the mind,” I murmured, the phrase echoing in the recesses of my chest.
Xul’s hand on my waist anchored me, a reassuring presence that chased away the disorientation.
This, this was the feeling of having a Godmaster by your side.
My fingers brushed against the hard planes of his sculpted chest as the chaotic storm of pages from the Book of Styxfall began to slow – Xul’s doing, undoubtedly.
Seeing him effortlessly command the swirling millions was… arousing. “Wow” was a pathetic descriptor, Elara, I chided myself. But yes, wow it was.
His other hand, not occupied by my waist, gracefully controlled the tempestuous dance of the pages, forcing them to settle with a gentle flutter.
It took immense power, the kind wielded only by the most gifted witches and wizards, to command the capricious magic of Styxfall’s Shadows. A chosen one, perhaps.
The realization dawned on me. Godmaster Xulin wasn’t merely a powerful wizard performing feats of dazzling magic. He was a Mage, a title earned through his mastery and undeniable connection to this arcane realm.
In a flicker, Xulin Vimic’s magic crackled like a live wire. Here I was, a front-row seat to the breathtaking brilliance of his power. To think, this breathtaking display could be even better... shirtless. The traitorous thought sent a delicious warmth bloom across my cheeks. Fuck.
As the swirling papers settled into a gentle dance around us, I finally found my voice. “How?” I breathed, the question tumbling out before I could reign it in. “Controlling the Shadows of Styxfall is considered impossible, let alone manipulating individual pages. How did you manage that? Have you… have you somehow reached the legendary fifth stage of wizardry? You should be… well, you should be a Mage by now, with power rivaling the ancients. Or perhaps…” My voice trailed off, a multitude of questions bubbling up within me, each one more desperate than the last.
A slow, infuriating smirk played on one side of Xulin’s lips. Gods above, the man was even more infuriatingly attractive when he did that. “My answers, my One,” he drawled, his voice a caress, “are not readily available for the asking.”
The way he said “One” – possessive, intimate – ignited a fire in my goddamn body.
Just as desperately as I craved answers, I craved the man himself.
A sigh escaped his lips, a sound so vulnerable it stole my breath. I could have sworn the air crackled with unspoken desires. My desires.
“This feat requires a power beyond imagining, Godmaster Xulin,” I pressed, the use of his revered title a playful prod. “There’s so much about you I don’t know,” I confessed, a touch of vulnerability escaping my lips. The truth was, Xul held secrets close, a facade he presented to the world. And I, for one, craved a glimpse behind the mask.
The air crackled with a tension I hadn’t anticipated. “Perhaps there’s a lot you’ve chosen to remain ignorant about,” Xul said, his voice laced with a hint of accusation. Coming from him, it rankled. After all, we had a long, intertwined history. Surely, he couldn’t truly mean that? And why did his words carry such a weight of blame?
“Well, then enlighten me,” I demanded. “Show me, tell me all these things I’ve supposedly chosen to remain oblivious about. I want to know!”
Xul faltered, his voice dropping to a murmur. “There’s… a lot. A great deal. To learn more, you’ll need to remain by my side.”
The title, once foreign on my tongue, rolled off naturally now. “As I am yours, Godmaster Xulin,” I found myself saying. Witnessing his immense power firsthand had a profound effect on me. My body and soul compelled me to utter the honorific, a stark contrast to my previous resistance. “I intend to be at your side more often than you can imagine.” Did I truly just say that out loud? Apparently, I did.
He chuckled, a rich, warm sound. “We stand at the heart of the Shadows of Styxfall. The truth lies within its pages, waiting to be discovered.”
The levitating papers surrounding us, hailing from every corner of time, whirred to life. A gasp escaped my lips. From all directions, the pages converged, forming a single, colossal stack. Thousands, millions, an uncountable number, merging into one. It resembled a book, yet far too vast to be contained within physical bindings. Was Xul truly doing this? Merging these pages with such practiced ease? The most breathtaking part: as he worked, Xul himself began to glow with an otherworldly brilliance that stole my breath away.
As the pages neared completion, coalescing into something resembling a book, Xul lowered his commanding hand. The unified mass disintegrated, the individual pages scattering back to their various points of origin within the tapestry of time. They resumed their previous positions, each one unmoored and singular once more.
I stood there, utterly speechless. Levitating a single book was within my grasp, but to maintain such a feat, let alone manipulate an entire universe of knowledge? Impossible. I was a novice, and without Mom’s guidance, learning magic felt like an insurmountable climb.
“Wow!” I finally managed, a breathless laugh escaping my lips. It was a sound of awe and a hint of self-deprecation.
Xul’s gaze held mine, sharp and unyielding, like a shard of obsidian. The familiar inner glow of his eyes had faded, leaving behind an impenetrable blackness. “What knowledge do you seek now?” he rumbled, his voice a low growl that sent shivers down my spine.
But within that gaze, a flicker. A glimpse of someone else, a different Xul entirely. It ignited a desperate hunger within me. The hunger for knowledge I’d been denied, the secrets Bethany kept locked away. Secrets that gnawed at me instead of granting peace, secrets I craved to unravel. This was the knowledge I yearned for, the truth that burned in my gut.
Yet, as Xul’s gaze pierced me, a different kind of truth began to surface. It felt like looking into a mirror, a reflection not just of myself, but of something deeper within him.
A raw, primal Xulin, a side I hadn’t glimpsed before.
There was so much more to this stoic godmaster, this man who could laugh and bring joy – a hidden dimension I was determined to uncover. He would tell me. He had to.
“Everything,” I breathed, my voice tight with urgency. “The truth.” I locked eyes with Xul, the Godmaster, my own gaze reflecting the fire that now burned within me. “Who are you, truly, Xulin Vimic?”