Kai #3
“The Soul did this to you?” Mira asks, voice tight, uncertainty curling at the edges. Taika nods, gaze locking with hers, unblinking and intense. Mira doesn’t flinch. “Then what did you do to deserve it?” she demands. “What did you do for the Soul to bind you here?”
Taika doesn’t answer. Instead, she turns away, her attention drifting toward her endless clutter. Her hands move quickly, grabbing vials of dark liquid, mixing them with stained fingers like none of this matters to her. “If you won’t answer, we’re done,” Mira says coldly. “Rot here for all I care.”
She turns heading for the door. But Taika’s voice comes again, quieter. “It gave me a choice,” she says. Her hands were slick, the color of blood dripping down her wrists. “I chose wrong.”
She wipes the red across the tattered edge of her dress, smearing it like penance. Then she turns, her eyes on mine. “I chose power over love,” she says. “I chose power… over you.” Her voice cracks, barely more than breath. “I’m sorry, my son,” she says. “I chose wrong.”
There are a thousand things I could say. Accusations. Demands. But one question rises above them all. “What were the choices she offered you?”
Taika starts pacing again, back and forth like a caged thing. Her voice drops into a hollow murmur. “That I cannot say. It is a test. One most don’t pass.” Her eyes flash at me. “Not even your father.” My chest tightens.
“It was angry with me,” she continues, her voice slipping into memory.
“But I didn’t know then what I know now.
That your soul was already tied to hers, even before she drew her first breath.
” She turns to Mira, pointing once more with that long, skeletal finger.
“Fated mates,” she says, like it was a sacred curse.
“A rare, violent bond. Stronger than even the Soul itself, because it is the Soul.”
My breath catches. Taika looks between us, at me, at Mira. Her voice turns reverent. “The Soul is not just the ocean. It governs all life. It chooses vessels to carry it forward, and it has chosen her.”
Mira doesn’t move. Taika steps closer. “But know this, Kai, your soul is tied to it too. You are its other half. Its flame. Its peace.” Her next words land like a dagger.
“Mira will never be able to rest. But you will.” Silence.
“She will live a lonely life after you’re gone.
And there is nothing you can do to stop it.
” My heart slams against my ribs. Mine might already be drawing its final breath.
She’s been cursed with my soul, bound to someone who will wither before she ever learns how wide forever stretches.
“That is when the Soul grows cold,” Taika says softly. “When it loses its other half. That is when it forgets how to feel. When it becomes cruel… and unstoppable.”
Mira looks at me. “Then I know what I will wish for,” she says softly, her eyes full of calm.
“But the Soul eventually finds a new one to take its place,” she continues. “That’s what’s happening with me, isn’t it?”
Taika lets out a laugh, the sound scraping against the walls. “After more than a thousand years, yes. It’s finally ready to sleep. To rest.”
She tilts her head, her blackened teeth visible in the low light.
“It’s not all darkness, girl. It’s light, too.
It’s both. The ocean has its crystal-clear waters where the pure hearted live.
And its darkest depths where the most vile creatures are born and live.
It depends on who you are… before it chooses you.
Depends on the life you live. It chose you because of how pure you are. ”
Mira glances around the hut, taking in the bones, the jars, the rot clinging to the rafters. Then she asks, “So it chooses when it wants to rest?”
Taika shrugs. “I am not it. I can’t speak for it. But I can tell you this, whoever held the Soul before you was cruel. Is cruel.” She steps toward us, slowly. “That’s why the ocean is unbalanced. That’s why nothing feels right. It hasn’t for a very long time.”
Then she says it. “There is an army coming. One built from dead souls. They cannot be killed.” The words hang in the air.
“Is there anything else we should know before we hand you over to the sirens?” I ask. Taika freezes, then slowly turns to face me, staring so deeply it feels like she’s peeling back every layer of who I am. I stand tall, and something in my posture makes her step back.
“My greatest regret,” she says, voice trembling, “in all my long, cursed life… was not choosing you, my son.” Her breath catches.
“When I’m gone, when my soul is finally put to rest, you will inherit my power.
All of it. You’ll need to learn how to control it, how to wield it without destroying yourself. Find Fog. He will teach you.”
Her words settle as I watch the fragile, filthy creature before me. This is my mother. This is what remains of her. I step closer. “Then I think it’s time you join my father.” Her eyes widen, not with fear, but with something unholy. Glee.
“It won’t be a peaceful death,” I add. “The sirens have no mercy left for you.” Taika’s lips curl into a wicked smile, black and gleaming.
“I welcome a painful death.”