Chapter 20 Roccurem
ROCCUREM
Days had passed as we scoured the nearest known realms. Everywhere we went, we found one of two things.
Either abandoned planets left in ruin and dust after the destruction of Nismera’s raids or small, forgotten villages and towns that Nismera hadn’t deemed worth her time and effort.
Samkiel offered aid and protection to all we encountered but refused to force those who chose not to align with any power.
It was a testament to Samkiel’s noble heart that he ensured they would continue to receive whatever resources they needed.
We found no signs of the Ig’Morruthens or the small girl who only wished to heal.
It had been a futile hope to think that Kaden and Isaiah would lie low on their return home, but I had kept that truth to myself.
What I had seen shall come to pass, no matter how brutal it may be, for it was the only way these realms would ever know peace. So I helped where and when I could.
When all of us were at our limits, we took refuge in a cave system on the coast of an abandoned planet.
Water dripped down the stone walls, trickling in from the rain that had passed days ago, the moisture soaking into the feverish ground.
Crescent twin moons shone brightly in the sky, surrounded by twisting shades of purple and gray.
Most worlds in this solar system were inhospitable due to its gaseous nature, but they sure made for a beautiful night sky.
The only thing that interrupted the peace was the sound of massive paws beating against the forest floor.
It was the only indication of the royal guard who patrolled diligently, protecting the king and queen, who slumbered deep within the cave, their bodies wrapped together in warmth, not lust. We’d had to beg them to sleep, both too consumed with searching to consider resting.
They didn’t understand that they would find her when the time was right, and it had to be right.
Too soon, and their fate could spin farther than I’d be able to catch.
A howl split the sky. It wasn’t loud enough to wake them, more a whimper and whine.
The area was clear, and the alert was only for me.
I heard the cry deep within it and knew he just wanted to know he wasn’t alone in the night, mourning the small healer.
Cameron didn’t know what his future truly held, and he was doubting his ability to protect and help those he loved.
He was unable to settle after losing Miska.
Especially when he had made no headway in finding the man who plagued his dreams and nightmares every time he closed his eyes.
Failure leaked from his pores, and he silently cried to the universe, asking for redemption that would never come.
So, the restless wolf patrolled in waning circles, pausing now and then to lament to the moons.
I lay back and rested my hands on my chest, listening to Cameron move through the dark.
I watched the unfamiliar stars slide across the sky.
My home, my true home, was far beyond them and this place.
Where a heart should beat in my chest, I felt a fleeting pinch of pain.
I was almost surprised to realize that I mourned.
There were so many empty worlds, all of them decimated in the wake of an oppressive dictator.
They were nothing more than empty rocks now, but the light that wished to cradle the growth still illuminated them.
The night grew frigid. It wasn’t a consequence of the night but the harbinger of the dark being who had appeared.
I rose to my feet, making sure I did not wake the royals sleeping behind me.
With a concentrated effort, I willed my body to unmake itself and reformed at the cliff’s edge, miles from the cave and the beast that prowled the surrounding forest. A deep, dark cloak fluttered in the wind, but I knew it was not made from cloth and had no physical form.
It was made from the darkness emanating from him in small waves.
It enveloped him completely as if it were entangled with his very soul.
I stopped beside Death, my toes kissing the edge of the cliff.
His massive form towered over me, his shadows reaching out to taste me.
“I’ve caught a couple of your specters wandering close,” I said in lieu of a greeting. “Still hunting for the king who managed to get past your gates?”
Death let out a warning growl. “He will be sent back beyond the veil.”
We had not seen or heard from Unir since his brief visit to Dianna. I knew whatever allowed him to slip into this world could not hide him. Death would hunt him down with specters and ghostly hounds.
“You are interfering when you have sworn not to,” I said.
“We’re losing.” Death made no movement, his hood covering his face. I wondered what skin he was wearing right now. What powerful ancient soul had passed his gates that he now cloaked himself in? “Have your visions changed, kinsman?” he asked.
I allowed my eyes to wander the expanse before us, rolling hills with gray stones sprinkled between the trees.
Life among the plains. Life and him. “No, I still hear the screams. I feel the dying winds and see the spiraling sky touch the ground. It is the beginning of an impenetrable darkness. The beginning of the end truly and all roads lead to one.”
“And you’ve told her not?” Death asked, his voice thick and deep.
“I have not,” I said. “It will only distract them because no matter what decision is made or what choice, it does not falter. The last bits of Unir’s kingdom will fall, and I am afraid they will go with it.”
Time stopped in his full presence. No wind blew, no leaves or small animals moved in our vicinity.
The universe awaited its master to collect what he’d come for.
Death had not come to collect tonight, but his indomitable power still leaked from his very being.
He was neither here nor there but somewhere in between.
“Will she forgive you?” Death asked. “Will he?”
“It matters not,” I answered truthfully. “It must be done.”
“I always admired you over your siblings, you know.”
A small chuckle left my lips. “My sisters are quite peculiar, but all we are, we are all the same.”
“Not you.” His cloak bellowed around him, not affected by the wind but with his power. “You, unlike them, saw what was to come and stepped in. Broke the rules you know will cost you and persisted.”
I nodded. “As have you. I assume that is why you have resurrected Kaden from Oblivion.” Death didn’t respond. Not that he needed to. Only he had the power to do such. “Why lead them to her home? The healer is innocent.”
“You use words belonging to those beneath us, kinsman. Innocent? Are they not all in some sense? Still, they pass my gates. All are equal in the kingdom of the dead.”
“She is innocent,” I repeated.
A short, deep chuckle left his throat, yet he still did not turn to me. “Is that judgment I hear? Not the gift you were born with, kinsman.”
I said nothing because I had no words to correct or deny his claim.
I … felt. I felt for them all. It had been so since the universe gave me life and would persist after it was taken.
It was my duty to uphold balance, as was his, yet witnessing what I had and not acting?
I would betray myself for a different outcome, a better one.
I would betray my supposed purpose in hope of the world I knew they could provide.
“You mock me, yet how many have arrived at your gates for it? How many still wail for those they have left behind? The empires that have turned to dust for it and will again.” I shrugged. “It is always for love. It has to be, or we are truly doomed.”
A dark laugh left him in my silence. “Has the queen affected you so? It seems she can neuter more than gods.”
The queen. He spoke with the usual bias he held for her.
Even before she returned, he never understood why I risked it all, why I allowed myself to be chained by Unir.
He never once questioned me or abandoned me in my pursuit, and over time, he had come to realize it was for the benefit of us all, not a selfish pursuit. I had no need of such things.
“I saw a different path, and when Kaden met his demise, I feared the road that split. You corrected that. Even so, I must ask, to what end is your goal?” I asked instead of answering him.
The cold grew, casting frost on all that surrounded him, turning the stones and debris at his feet brittle.
“To what we want. To what is needed. Nismera draws closer to that medallion every day, so I did what I must.”
I nodded solemnly. That much I had gathered. “It will come to pass as it should.”
“You did not tell them about my arrival, nor have you spoken a word about where I would be,” he said, the air stiffening around him.
“Nor will I.”
“So your loyalties still reside with us?”
My lips curled in a scowl. Us. It seemed so formal for an informal alliance.
Chaos gifted us what those lower than us deemed as life, but what was life other than this servitude we were bound to?
Both of us were in a never-ending cycle, never to live truly, never to die.
We were watchers. I watched time, how it ate and corroded, turned bones to dust and empires to ruins, and he collected, always for eternity, until eternity ended.
Would we rest then? I assumed not, and I could no longer see far ahead.
“My loyalty has never been to chaos or what she created. She would spin this universe eons tenfold into utter disarray. I cannot allow it,” I said
Death’s chuckle was as cold as the ether that crafted him. “Peace does not last, kinsman.”
“It will last long enough.”
A low grunt came from Death. “It seems your interference is changing, kinsman. The closer you draw to her, the less you become.”
A soft smile played on my lips. His observations were not incorrect.
Not that I cared. Death and I had been created alongside each other long before beings had legs, yet we were very different beings.
I knew my purpose, my goal, and what needed to be done to achieve it.
I sometimes missed my solitude, but this was the closest I had gotten to truly living.
It was a gift, and I would treasure it always. “I would choose her in any lifetime.”
The darkness around Death seemed to shudder in response to the emotion he could feel coming from me. “That much we both know.”
My hands rested in my pockets as the night waned on. Stars flickered high above us, some shooting across the sky in quick flashes of light.
“I assume you did not come to tell me your current plan?” I asked my compatriot.
“I did not.”
“Therefore, what is the reason?”
“I simply wished to warn you. He will not take it well once he finds out, but it must be this way in order for him to understand how serious it is,” Death explained, and I wondered if this was how others felt when I spoke.
“I do not understand.”
“They must reconcile or all is lost,” Death said.
That made me pause. I turned fully toward him, having to lift my head a mere fraction to stare at the covered side of his. Darkness continued to flutter around him like a living, breathing thing. “Reconcile?”
Still, he watched. Still, he waited.
“I fear you are asking for too much if you are attempting to force some bond between Dianna and Samkiel’s brothers. Nismera has done what she set out to do. The fracture between them is as deep as a cavern. The connection is splintered into so many pieces, mending it will be impossible.”
“You fear that,” Death said. “I do not.”
Apprehension prickled the skin at the back of my neck, and I knew that whatever he had set in motion would not be easily undone.
“What have you done?”
A gust of wind as cold as the void between the stars washed over me.
“They will mend, or we all shall break.”
And when Death looked at me, it was not a formless face he wore.
I realized the darkness surrounding him was not merely the absence of light.
Wisps of purple-speckled power flared around him.
Ancient and archaic, it coiled and snapped like smoky serpents protecting their master.
It was not some mere slain king or warrior he wore.
It was Samkiel.
Death vanished in a rush of wings. His last warning echoed in my ears, joining the screams of a million dying breaths.
“Mend or break.”