Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
Remus
The plane my mother lives in is unlike anything the average mind could conjure up.
It is not a place made for those born in the three-dimensional model of the universe.
It is a place separate from that, separate from the laws of physics that come with it.
It is her own separate plane that she created.
It is the one thing I’ve never been able to do—the one thing she refuses to teach me.
As I open my eyes, she’s standing with her back to me, her hand elevated as it slightly moves in time with the ocean in the distance. She lowers her hand, and the waves stop almost instantly, becoming as still as the grass.
“It seems there are many parts of a planet’s structure that are needed for even the most basic functions,” she murmurs to herself as she turns to face me.
My mother is a frighteningly beautiful being by nature.
Just looking at her makes you understand why the Leviathan gave her the title Aureon.
The amount of energy flowing through her is visible as her hair gently flows around her, and her eyes illuminate, shifting like jewels reflecting in the sunlight.
She moves past me without sparing me another glance, expecting me to follow.
My mother and I have always had a relationship based on mutual respect.
Iris would be devastated to know that I don’t see her as anything other than the woman who gave me life.
She’s always kept me at an arm’s length, ensuring I follow her orders and nothing else.
And now that I’ve been forced to look at my past, I’m curious how much of it is missing because of her.
But more importantly, why?
“You have come to see me unsummoned,” she says as she walks, her head held high.
She moves with the grace of her people—a people I have never known because, like everything else that comes with her, she refuses to tell.
She refuses to speak of her origins outside of explaining to us why we wielded the power we did.
And I have never been curious enough to ask.
But with Iris’s constant questions about her and my past, I am suddenly aware of just how little I know of her and even myself. And if the secrets that come with her have anything to do with what’s happening to me now.
“How is our newest conquest?” she asks.
“It’s good. The only issues involved a rebellious Leviathan, but we have taken care of him,” I say.
“I hear Ezra was held for quite some time by this…rebellious Leviathan,” she says.
I hear the irritation in her voice, unease creeping through me for some reason.
“It was my fault. I let him take the lead when I shouldn’t have. And he got caught up in—”
My mother whips around, her anger evident as she looks at me. “Protect them always, Remus. That is your role. I do not care how it happened. It never should have! If he cannot be trusted on his own, if you have even an inkling of doubt, you will not allow him to be put in harm’s way,” she snaps.
Her skin flushes with controlled rage as she studies me, and I compose myself. She’s always been this way, especially when it comes to Ezra. She’s very protective of him, and she’s only ever been this way with him. Me and Xion are capable of protecting ourselves.
“I understand. It won’t happen again,” I say.
She doesn’t move. She glares at me, attempting to control her rage. Finally, she turns and continues walking, and I follow.
“You will need to tighten your grip on the Leviathan. One rebel in a foreign world is all it takes for more to come out and try to destroy what I’ve built,” she says.
“Of course. He is standing trial right now for—,” I say.
“Trial?” she scoffs. “He dared step outside of his bounds and dragged my son into it in the process. Death is what awaits him at the end of this…trial,” she says.
I am taken aback at her decision to go over the heads of the council, but before I can respond she continues, her anger clear.
“Have you checked in on the other worlds yet to ensure there have been no disruptions?” she asks.
“Yes, I have,” I say as we continue in the direction of her garden.
“But you didn’t come all this way unsummoned to tell me about issues already resolved,” she says.
As I stride alongside her, my mind suddenly drifts to Iris’s words before I left as she looked at me with sleepy eyes.
“Don’t go. Something bad is happening, isn’t it?”
I can’t help but echo that sentiment as I try to find the words to tell my mother why I’m here.
Prior to now, she was missing when we arrived to Xyrannis.
Only a few days ago did she reappear and still had yet to summon me.
Despite her calm exterior, she’s been avoiding me.
And as I study her, I realize she has a light field of energy around her. It isn’t her natural aura.
It’s hostile.
“Something has been happening to me ever since I returned to Xyrannis. I need answers before I harm someone close to me,” I say.
Her footsteps don’t falter as we approach her garden, which is filled with plants from different worlds. I smile to myself as I look at them. Iris would love these. I can easily imagine the way her eyes widen, and her mouth opens when she sees something new and exciting.
“What is it that is happening to you? Explain,” she says.
“I cannot control my power. I’ve broken things without trying, and even feeding has become a dangerous task,” I say. I hesitate to tell her about the visions. I don’t know why. It feels instinctual.
“And more recently, I’ve been having visions of a past I cannot remember,” I say.
My mother’s footsteps finally falter as we stand in the center of her garden, and she turns to face me with a neutral expression.
“What is in these visions?” she asks.
I look away, focusing on the vibrant colors of the flowers as I speak. “A world I don’t recognize…a language I don’t remember learning...and my past as a child, killing hundreds of Leviathan. I don’t remember this ever happening. I don’t remember anything from my childhood,” I say.
My mother laughs, pulling my attention, and I am suddenly aware of just how threatening she is becoming toward me. Her muscles are tense, and the energy flowing through her slowly continues to build, as if she’s trying to do it without me noticing.
I try not to react as she reaches for my face, holding my chin. Her eyes bore into mine as she sees me through a lens I can’t describe. Her eyes light up, and I feel the heat of the symbol on my chest pulsing.
“You bonded with someone,” she says, releasing me. “So that is why my block is no longer working. You’ve fused part of your essence into someone else,” she murmurs.
She looks back at me.
“Of all my children, I never expected you to bond. I didn’t think you were capable of that kind of emotion,” she says.
Her words make me think of Iris’s words to me when she was beside herself with rage.
“You are a heartless, emotionless being incapable of understanding anything, especially what a human feels being in your presence.”
Her words bothered me at the time, which is strange because I’ve never been bothered by her insults. Hearing my mother mimic the sentiment just proves that there is something happening that I am not seeing. I am confident she is about to reveal it to me.
“It was an accident,” I say.
My mother frowns, stepping closer to me. “Even worse, my son.”
I see desperation in her gaze as she tries to remain inconspicuous. It’s subtle, but it’s there. And I slowly build my own block with what little energy I have left.
“Has the person you’ve bonded with had any visions? Headaches, perhaps? Maybe her body is sickly overall?” she asks.
I shake my head. Iris has been feeling down, yes, but she hasn’t told me about any visions.
“She’s just been having difficulties adjusting to Xyrannis’s atmosphere,” I say.
“How so?” she asks, barely letting me finish my sentence.
“It started when we passed through the rings. She has these headaches that make it to where she can barely stand—”
“You weren’t supposed to bond, Remus. You are never supposed to bond. Especially to something so weak that it cannot conceal your essence. Did I not warn you? You have led him right to us! Right through my protection,” my mother says, whipping away from me.
Her panic is showing. Her fingers tremble slightly as she thinks to herself. She shifts her attention to the sky, taking a deep breath, and the sky slowly darkens with her will. She turns to face me, her eyes and form glowing.
“Do you know what we are, Remus? Me, you, and Xion?” she asks.
Confusion settles over me as she leaves Ezra out, but I respond anyway.
“Celestivine,” I say.
She nods. “And have you ever wondered why we are the only ones of our kind? Why you’ve never encountered any among the cosmos?” she asks.
I don’t respond, but I don’t have to, as she laughs, shaking her head.
“Of course not. I never embedded curiosity in you,” she says.
She narrows her gaze. “But you have brought something into my domain that cannot be concealed. And for that, she must die.”
I tense, taking a step back just as a wave of energy washes over me, holding my body captive. Panic hits me at the sudden turn of the situation, and I look at my mother as the force of her energy forces me to my knees, bright beams of blue becoming visible as they wrap around my arms and legs.
My mother watches me with an emotionless expression as I struggle.
“Your father always knew you’d be a prodigy. But I thought I could fix that—fix you,” she says. “Turns out he was right.”
“What are you doing?” I snap as I struggle, but the beams of energy wrapped around me are sucking what little energy I have left. I am helpless.
“You have given your father a roadmap to where you are located. I am sure he picked up that tiny trace of essence within that feeble human form. Even my rings couldn’t keep that at bay,” she says in irritation.
“Don’t you touch her!” I shout, wincing in pain when the beams tighten.
My mother laughs.
“I am so sick of this song and dance, Remus. You know nothing about the world we came from. Those visions of you as a child are memories. I thought I could prevent you from being just like your father, but I was naive, and when you refused to adjust, and matured as a Celestivine at such a young age, I had to learn how to control you,” she says.
She comes to stand over me, her eyes level with mine as she holds her fingers in front of my face and snaps.
My vision blurs as memories dance across my mind.
My mother pulling me from my bed in the middle of the night. She holds her fingers to her lips, telling me to be quiet, but I don’t want to for some reason. I want to go to her room, and as we pass the door, I reach for it. But she yanks me around roughly to face her.
I release a gasp, my breathing erratic as I remember everything, and I look at my mother in horror, seeing her for the monster she is.
“You took me…while he wasn’t there…during the conversion,” I say, suddenly aware of things I never knew existed.
“Why?” I ask.
“I thought I was saving you from him. From that entire life. But you ended up being just like him. Cold and unfeeling…and filled with so much power,” she says.
I tense, closing my eyes as more memories appear. My mother locked me away for years. That is why I have no memories. And when Xion was old enough, she released me. She trained and manipulated me, locking away memories and blocking who I was.
“I’ve spent centuries creating a safe haven for all of us. And when Ezra’s father came along, I thought everything would be okay…then I bonded with him. And your father began to track us down through him,” she says.
My flesh crawls as I look at her in a darker light. The distance between us, the desire to protect Ezra that she has…she would do anything to remain hidden from the world she came from. She has already done the unthinkable.
“You killed him,” I whisper.
She looks at me, narrowing her gaze. “Don’t look at me with those eyes. If I could, I would kill you too. But if Kuron ever finds us, you and your sister are all I have to leverage for Ezra’s and my freedom. I won’t let you tear down what I have sacrificed so much to create—”
I lunge at her, my rage suddenly uncontrollable. My cries of rage fill the air as the ground around me trembles and breaks, and she watches me for a second, fear clouding her eyes, but only for a split second. She knows I am weak.
The beams of energy tighten around my arms, pulling me down as they pull the life from me. She wipes her face of emotion as she comes to stand over me, pressing her fingers against my forehead. I tense when I feel the tingle of her in my head.
My mind immediately shifts to Iris. She is going to kill her if I don’t do something. But I don’t know how to reach her. And I don’t know how to reach any of my siblings like this.
My mother finds my thoughts.
“Don’t worry. I will make her death as painless as possible. You won’t even remember to mourn her,” she says.
My eyes widen as I feel her tampering with my mind. I see the desperation in her eyes as she does so. Whatever she is trying to prevent me from becoming, whoever she is trying to prevent from finding us, she truly fears.
I shout, using all of my energy in a last desperate attempt to protect Iris. Instead of focusing on myself, I attempt to do something my mother never taught me and destroy this plane of existence.
My mother senses it, pulling her fingers from my face as she looks around in a panic. The world shudders, the sky shifting unnaturally, and she shifts her attention back to me, a weapon of pure energy forming on her nails as she drives it through my chest, into my symbol.
I cry out, no longer able to feel the makeup of this world. She’s somehow cut me off from my power.
“You will only delay the inevitable. She cannot live. Or we will all suffer,” she seethes.
But I ignore her, focusing on the mental block, attempting to reach out to Iris.
I try to touch her mind with all of my emotions, praying that she will understand something is wrong—that she can warn my siblings and they will protect her.
But I am on another plane of existence. I don’t even know if it’s possible.
“But first, let’s get rid of this pesky bond,” my mother says as her nails elongate into the stream of energy on my chest.
My cries of pain are amplified, and it takes all of my strength to focus on Iris, my desperation mirroring my mother’s.
I hope that whatever I am sending her way is enough to help her understand whatever is about to happen.
That she will continue to be the stubborn woman I fell in love with, and fight for her life—and if need be, for me.
“We’ve done this plenty of times before, my son. It will be as if she never existed. And you will be as you once were. No longer a threat.”