Chapter 31 #3
“Semyaza will guide you.” He nods toward the cavern opening. I turn around, but nothing is there—then I hear the sound of beating wings. “Considering he taught all of his half-breed children to do the same, he has plenty of experience in the area.”
There’s a soft thud outside the cave, echoed by approaching bootsteps.
“Even the Academy doesn’t know how to train non-angels,” Abaddon continues. “You won’t find a better teacher.”
The man finally reveals himself in the doorway, stopping as he grins ear to ear. “You flatter me, brother.”
My eyes dart to the King in disbelief. “So it’s true? You’re related?”
Faintly, he smiles, followed by a slow nod. “The Decay to my Destruction.”
“The Destruction to my Decay,” Semyaza echoes back, walking up to me with his hand extended. Cautiously, I accept, shaking his hand as he grins down at me. “Shall we get started?”
It’s strangely quiet in my soul without my shadow.
I search and search, but it’s nowhere to be found.
Instead of ignoring all the tethers I bump into, I’m learning to navigate them.
They’re everywhere, tenfold in intensity and number than I remember before, as if the floodgates have opened.
Some are weak, gray, inactive; some are bold and demanding.
Like synapses in a brain, they all connect in an intricate, malleable web.
And somewhere, beyond all of that, is the mythical Aether.
Semyaza and Abaddon want me to try channeling this distant, brilliant bridge of life and energy, but I’ve never felt anything remotely similar to it.
If my soul is in the fourth dimension, then the Aether must lie in the fifth—or the hundredth.
I don’t know. It’s all so incomprehensible to me.
I think angels have an inherent ability to sense these things, but I’m forced to figure it out with strategy and determination.
It’s like writing music with math and not emotion.
I am a blind, deaf soul, wandering without direction, dodging deeply personal connections with strangers. One tether near me seems particularly strong, and I have to focus on not—
Burning in a fire, suffering in endless agony. Lonely, heartbroken, betrayed. I feel the constant loss of my soul, chipping away until I don’t recognize myself anymore.
I fling my eyes open as soon as I can, but it’s not enough.
A single second was all it took to touch some of the most profound, painful emotions I could possibly imagine. I might as well have been dipped in molten lava, pulled out, and left to fizzle into a burnt crisp.
My whole body shivers, stunned, and tears spring into my eyes. I hadn’t intended to touch anyone’s tethers, let alone figure out how to find them from it, but with the intensity of that one accidental touch, it’s abundantly clear. Semyaza might as well have a neon sign on him.
“A little warning would have been nice,” he winces. “And you might want to practice being gentle. Perhaps with someone who didn’t suffer the Punishment.”
There was so much breadth and clarity to the emotion that I could have believed it was happening in the present. “Those were your memories?”
“Unfortunately, yes. In a way. While we can’t exactly hear or see one another’s memories, formative memories can be very clear in some persistent emotions, and, well…
” He clears his throat, running a hand through his dark hair.
“I didn’t expect us to get to know each other so well, so soon.
But I suppose it was only a matter of time if I’m to help you train. ”
I pale, my eyes wide. “I’m so sorry, Semyaza. I had no intention to–”
“Stop, stop. Please.” He waves me off, smiling sheepishly. “I’m giving you a hard time. It happens. This is why we train. Just keep going, and look beyond the tethers. You’re too in the weeds.”
“We don’t even know if she can pull from the Aether,” Abaddon comments, reminding me he’s still here, too. “Are you certain the Nephilim could? The Elohim seem to consider it as something else.”
“Of course I’m certain.” Semyaza casts him a scathing look, clearly offended that his brother would doubt him.
“Though nephilim specialties were weaker, they still had predominant, inherited magic that they frequently described as being propelled by an infinite source, rather than burning through material energy.”
Magic. Huh. So if he can call it magic, then why the fuck did Dusk get in such a tizzy about me using that word? Double standards, much?
“She could be a null,” Abaddon keeps pushing. “There’s really no precedent for her to have a specialty.”
“A null? No. She’s prophesied to open the Abyss, which can only be done with the key you said she absorbed. That sounds like specialty magic to me.” Semyaza sighs, clearly tiring of their argument. “Regardless, there’s only one way for us to find out. Miss Kae, please continue.”
I dive back in, closing my eyes and immediately immersing myself in the pool of convoluted tethers. There’s no up, down, forward, or backward. I’m simply surrounded in every direction, and I worry that if I try to focus on any particular tether long enough to move past it, I’ll accidentally—
It’s not fire, but it is torture. A passionate, possessive, aching desire for what should be mine. It feels like I’m in an eternal state of being edged, yet constantly denied the pleasure of release.
ABADDON
My heart skips a beat when I feel her find me.
All it takes is one gentle little tug from her, and my composure completely slips, giving way to my insuppressible desire for her.
Her soul feels bright enough to be my sun in a place where it never shines, and I can’t get enough of it.
Semyaza told me that I need to make her see me for who I am, and I’m so very tired of fighting it.
I can’t anymore. I have to give in, to give her a small taste of my insatiable longing for her.
Come to me, little light, and rip away my darkness. Let me revolve around you. I will show you what it means to be the sun.
Kae begins to walk towards me, eyes still closed, following our connection. Such a quick learner. I stand, barely hiding my satisfaction.
Stopping just in front of me, she whispers my name, “Abaddon.”
It nearly sends me to my knees. I can smell her again. I can smell her desire, so sweet and enticing. So easily prompted by my own. If I’m not careful, it will be the death of me.
“Kae,” I breathe back, husky and low.
“You… I felt…” She licks her lips, and my eyes fix upon them like they’re the only thing that exists in the entire universe. I lean in closer, as if quieting my voice will prevent Semyaza from hearing. It won’t, but I’m not concerned about my brother. Kae simply needs the illusion of privacy.
“That is what I feel for you. How I wait so eagerly for you to choose me.”
I can’t stand this torture anymore. I need to devour every inch of her. And for a moment, it looks like she wants the same thing, too—but then she averts her eyes.
It must be the audience, I reason. She was born with modesty that I do not have. If she’d let me, I would claim her in front of every person in every realm, just to prove a point.
But, no, they’re not the root of the problem. It goes deeper.
She is still heavily connected with the Messenger. Her beautiful human empathy is likely concerned for his pesky little feelings, and it needs to be corrected immediately. He needs to have his heart crushed, to know there is no possible future where Kae will be his.
My claim is absolute, and I am inevitable.
Showing it to him may be more sloppy than I had originally planned, but my patience is wearing thin. Kae will have to forgive me—
She clears her throat. “I’m going to keep, uh, looking for the Aether.”
“Good,” I offer, placating. “Keep searching. You will know it when you find it.”