49. ACHERON
Ash had been tracking the hellhounds for days now. They’d spent days terrorising innocent Faery folk. As to who summoned them, Ash did not know. He’d been waiting for them to gather at night to sleep, so he could send them back to the Shadow Realm as a pack. He managed to track down their camp along the edge of Red Oak Forest, beside Summeira – the Summer Court.
The hellhounds were tricky beasts that covered their scent with their flaming tails. Using various shadows, they camouflaged themselves. The Summeiran weather didn’t help at all, in fact it stifled their scents. It was warm, hot and humid just like the Shadow Realm. They were in their element.
Ash perched high on a treetop with his white wings tucked tightly behind him, balancing him so that he almost hovered. His silver vambraces covered his muscled forearms and his black hair loosely billowed in the wind. His favourite war hammer, with blazing flames carved into its side, was strapped across his bare torso, ready for action.
The hellhounds had finally settled for the night. The last of them had returned from wreaking havoc in the surrounding Faery villages. As they passed through the centre of the pack, they taunted the one hellhound that lay weak. Someone had clearly tied it down and the other hellhounds were revelling in it. It was the runt of the litter. A pup.
Ash hadn’t seen anything like it before. It was so much smaller than the other hounds, much younger and skinnier, though its flaming tail still burned bright.
How did I not notice the pup before?
The pup whimpered as the older hellhounds nipped at its patchy fur, leaving blood to pool at the sites they taunted. What had the pup done to warrant this torture from its pack, Ash wondered.
The surrounding forest hushed. The bristling leaves and branches stilled and the air itself grew stale. Unmoving.
A small figure covered head to toe in dirt and leaves, sprinted for the centre of the hellhound pack, a makeshift dagger carved from wood in its hand.
“What in the blazing . . .” Ash muttered from his observation point. His eyes locked on the fast-moving figure. He floated quietly down to perch on a tree closer to where the pack lay asleep. He needed to take a closer look.
The figure – a petite female, Ash realised – ran straight for the pup that lay dead centre in the pack. Wielding the makeshift dagger purposefully, she cut through the several ropes that bound the hellpup in one swift movement and scooped up the hellhound in both her arms. The pup was too big to be held in one.
Ash’s jaw fell open as he watched the spectacle unfold before him. Not a sane soul in the immortal world would have had the gall to face death itself by the jaws of heathen hellhounds, all to save a pup. Not a single soul.
He laughed at the scene unfolding before him, admiring her bravery.
Once securing the pup in her arms, the female figure sprinted her way across the pack to the other side of the forest entrance, rousing the older hellhounds as she did. The hellpup bounced and flopped in her arms as she ran for her life.
Oh shit.
Ash snapped out of his trance and leapt off the tree from where he perched. He dived toward the dirt-covered female. She was fast. Deadly fast. She’d already reached the other side of the opening, but Ash flew faster.
His wings tapered in closer to his body, propelling him.
His wings flew open dramatically with a woosh as he cut across the pack of angry hellhounds that were ready to maul the female to shreds. The female who just stole from them one of their own.
Ash hovered midair, extending his palms toward the pack that yipped and barked. He swept his arms wide, one going anticlockwise and the other moving clockwise. He whispered beneath his breath the words of the origin spell. A spell that would send the hellhounds to the world they came from.
The tones of the hellhounds changed then.
They whimpered knowing full well that their bloody rampage through the Faery realm would end here. Ash clasped his hands together in prayer, finalising the spell. Blinding bright white light shot through his hands, enveloping the entire pack of hellhounds.
He twisted his palms, locking the hellhounds in – sending them straight to the Shadow Realm with a crack of his power. His lightning.
With a flash, the yelping was no longer. The rabid pack of hellhounds had disappeared to the hole they had crept out of.
Ash turned swiftly in the air with a push of his wings, knowing there was one hellhound left to send back. He weaved through the trees like they were nothing.
He heard her then, the female, panting but still moving.
He found her dirt-covered figure leaning up against a tree, fighting to gain her breath. The injured pup lay curled in her embrace, its head resting in the space between her neck and shoulder.
Ash tried his best not to startle her, ruffling his wings so she could hear his approach. But still . . .
“AH!” the female screamed, jumping from the surprise. The hellpup in her arms startled at the sudden noise and movement. Its ears perked, facing Ash as he slowly landed on his feet, white wings tucked in before the female.
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” Ash said apologetically. Hands up in surrender, Ash tried his best to show her that he meant no harm. He approached the female and pup, his feet inching cautiously forward. “I think you may have something that doesn’t belong to you.” Ash pointed at the pup.
She scuttled back farther into the tree that she rested upon. It wasn’t fear that showed in her face, but something like determination.
She yanked the pup back, shielding it so that her body stood between it and Ash.
“I promise I won’t hurt it. I need to send it back to where it belongs. It is a creature of evil, you see.” Ash stopped his slow approach. Perhaps explaining his way through this would help convince the female to hand the hellhound back over to him safely. “The hellhounds have been slaughtering innocent Faery folk. I need to make sure they all go back to where they came from. That’s all,” he said softly.
The shadows of the forest hid her well.
The moonlight peeking through here and there didn’t help him much. Ash could barely see her, save for the flaming tail that wagged happily in her arms. It didn’t hurt her. It didn’t want to hurt her, he realised.
“Not this one,” the female said low in her voice, standing her ground.
Ash stepped closer to the female. “The faster we return the creature to its home, the safer everyone will be. The happier it will surely be.”
“No.”
“What do you mean no?”
“No.” The female walked out of the dark shadows of the forest. Most of the dirt had flung off her face in her desperate flee from the hellhounds.
Ash’s throat constricted.
His heart hung uncomfortably in his throat, and he swore his stomach had started to lurch back and forth.
His skin began to buzz.
For once in his life, Ash was stunned into silence.
The female was human. She was divine. Her long black hair was pulled back into a braid. Loose tendrils shaped her face like how the sea hugged the shores. She had to be about eighteen. The same age as he was.
Her bright purple eyes did something to his heart. Twisting it. Warming it. Floating it. Her eyes reminded him of the catmints that were planted around his home in the Godlands. Her sunset-dipped lips were full, and he unabashedly wondered how they would feel against his. Dirt was splattered across her tan, dimpled cheeks and the way his heart squeezed in that moment was so unearthly.
Ash felt like he was about to drop to his immortal knees if it weren’t for the hellpup she held that would surely jump out and hang by his jugular if Ash dared inch closer.
With her arms braced across the furry back of the hellpup, the female moved closer to Ash, daring him. “I will not allow you to do that. He is injured. His packmates are the cause of these injuries. I will not allow you to send him back there. Beast or not.” She stood her ground. The hellpup nestled in her neck farther as if completely agreeing with her.
“He may be injured, but what is to happen once he is healed? He will surely ravage the towns, tearing through citizens,” Ash argued.
“No. Evil is made. Not born. He is still a pup and with that, he has a lot to learn. He’s endured much from his pack and yet he does not bite or harm me.” She moved the hand resting against the hellpup’s back to his flaming tail, picking it up with her bare hand to prove her point.
The pup huffed, letting out tendrils of smoke from its nostrils as if to say, “I told you so.”
Ash laughed at that.
Then he laughed at himself.
He was arguing with a human, who was holding a hellpup as if it were her only child, in Faery. She had a good point though, Ash had to admit. The hound, despite being a creature of evil as legends had it, did not hurt her.
This human intrigued him. Not only did she face what no immortal dared, she challenged him to see and think differently. And because of that intrigue, he relented.
Ash crossed his muscled tan arms and said, “I tell you what. I won’t send the hellpup back to the Shadow Realm for now, only if you tell me about your world.”
She looked at him, puzzled. He pointed to his own ears that were delicately pointed.
A blush rose to her cheeks, realising that her perfectly round ears were a dead giveaway. She was a human.
She narrowed her eyes, “You said ‘for now’. What’s to say you won’t send him to the Shadow Realm in the next two minutes?” She shielded the pup farther away from Ash.
“Let me rephrase. We will let him heal from his injuries and if he decides he is a good pup, and not born of evil, he can stay. But if he so much barks in the wrong direction, I will send him back immediately.” Ash compromised – a skill he did not exercise often.
“Deal.” She stretched out an arm between them.
A deal.
“The name is Ash.” He stretched out his hand to meet hers.
“Sophie.” She smiled. Ash could faintly see his own swirling turquoise eyes dancing in the reflection of her purple eyes.
She took his hand in hers. Ash’s much larger hand enveloped her petite one – covered in speckles of dirt, but they were soft and delicate.
The moment they touched, a spark of electricity shot through Ash’s hand. It felt like he’d been punched in the gut, or he was free falling. The sensation was odd, sending him into a tiny dizzy spell.
They both flinched back from the spark, shaking their hands free of the sensation. Ash’s mana swirled in joy, and a bond he hadn’t felt for a long while snapped to life, awakening from its dark slumber.
He snapped his gaze to her enchanting eyes, the moonlight highlighting them. He tilted his head, wondering if she felt the same thing. She tilted hers too. They were like mirrors. The same, but different. Part of the same story. Cut from the same cloth.
She cleared her throat. “I’ve named him Calypso.” She grinned widely.
Ash’s knees wobbled. He couldn’t help but plaster on a mischievous smile in return. He shook his head swiftly though, finally registering what Sophie had said. “We are not naming him,” Ash argued. The last thing he needed was to get attached to something he knew he was going to have to send back to the Shadow Realm.
“We already have. His name is Calypso,” she said firmly, tickling the little beast’s belly, careful not to graze any of its existing lacerations.
The hellpup wriggled in her arms with happiness, its flaming tail wagging furiously side to side. Ash grinned at the wholesome sight.
“But Calypso is a female name. He’s a boy.”
“And since when were you so wrapped up in gender norms and stereotypes? If you haven’t realised, you’re the one wearing a skirt. Not me.” She laughed, pointing at his loincloth.
Calypso huffed with her, tendrils of smoke trailing from his nostrils in laughter.
It’s a damned loincloth, not a skirt. Reminder: Don’t wear a loincloth on missions ever again.
“You have a point. Calypso it is.” Ash shot his hands up in mock surrender. He laughed, shaking his head. This was ridiculous.
Life in the Tienthan was tough and gruelling, especially under the command of Ares. If Ash were to climb the ranks, he’d make a change in the culture but for now, he was a lowly soldier. “How about we rest for the night. I can heal his wounds and you can tell me all about Sotera while I do it,” Ash offered.
Sophie nodded and motioned him to lead the way through the dark forest with a quick nod. The hellpup settled back into her arms for a nap. Calypso nuzzled her neck and gave little licks as he settled. Ash didn’t know what a melting heart felt like until this very moment. Had he completely lost his mind? Shaking his head, he offered her his hand. She hesitated, unsure whether to take it.
“Well, we’re certainly not going to walk there. Perks of having these.” Ash pointed at his large white feathered wings, grinning.
Sophie beamed right back, with a flash of a bright white smile. “Well, there’s always a first for everything right?” She laughed, placing her hand in his.
Ash swung around her, lifting her with an arm behind her legs and the other supporting her torso. Calypso clung tightly to her chest at the sudden movement. Ash’s wings burst open, casting an enormous shadow on the forest floor.
Sophie gasped. “You’re . . .” Her hands reached behind his shoulder to caress one of his feathers. He shuddered at the sensation, almost dropping her.
“Careful, fair lady. They’re very sensitive.” Ash laughed deeply.
“Sensitive?” She tilted her head adorably.
“Sensitive.” Ash wriggled his eyebrows.
She grasped her hand over her mouth. “I am so sorry! I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s fine.” He cut her short, assuring her it was truly okay. Angels rarely permitted anyone to touch their wings, sometimes not even their lovers. They were gifts from the gods and were treated as such. Sacred.
On that note, he leapt into the sky above the forest canopy with one big thrust of his wings.
Sophie let out a breath of unfiltered awe. The stars above rejoiced in their flight, cheering them on with quick flickers of light.
Ash flew the three of them to a large hollowed-out red oak tree he sighted earlier during his observations. Its opening was large enough to accommodate his wings.
“Your world doesn’t seem as beautiful as I imagined,” Ash said with Calypso curled up in his lap.
When they settled in the hollowed-out oak tree, Sophie started a fire while Ash healed Calypso with his powers. The pup healed quickly and fell asleep immediately in his lap. Though the pup was healed, Calypso was still strung out and skinny from being starved.
“Climate change, the patriarchy and racism aside, it is beautiful. The small moments are at the very least,” Sophie said longingly, staring into the fire.
Ash had never been to Sotera. He hadn’t reached the rank of lieutenant yet. Only lieutenants were allowed across the three realms – The Godlands, Faery and Sotera. As a private, he was assigned Faery and only a small portion at that.
“Do you miss your family?” he asked while petting Calypso softly across his furry back.
“My mother to be precise, and very much so.” She smiled.
“You’ll see her soon enough,” Ash reassured her.
They sat next to each other to keep warm by the fire. Sophie had told him of her world, of how she ended up in Faery and how she snuck away from the Fae that were trying to help her get back to her home world. The group that led her through the tunnels of Faery to the departing train at Northern Helm. He respected her confidence and her bravery in wanting to see Faery in the flesh, even if it meant sneaking away from the only group of Fae that could protect her. Silly and stupid, some may have called it, but he couldn’t complain. He was completely entranced by her.
“Can you tell me a story? Maybe when you were younger and how you joined the ranks of the Tienthan?” she asked, legs crossed, reaching over to sooth Calypso as he stirred from a nightmare.
Ash smiled. He didn’t know why this story rushed to the forefront of his mind. Maybe it was because her presence and aura reminded him so much of his long-lost friend.
“I can tell you how I got this,” Ash pointed to the scar running through his left brow, all the way down to his upper cheek.
She grimaced at the scar and asked, “Do I even want to know?”
“The story isn’t as sinister as you think.” He laughed, careful not to stir Calypso from his slumber.
Ash’s wings rested behind him, strewn gently across the ground, giving him the perfect balance. Then he told her. Of his first love. His best friend. His princess with purple and silver hair. How they snuck down to the river to duel with the swords they stole from her father’s armoury. Despite her much smaller size, she beat him fair and square, and as she did, he slipped on a rock, falling face first into the river. He spoke of how they laughed and laughed and how they kept it all a secret from their parents.
Sophie smiled softly, longingly at the story he shared with such fondness. “And where is the princess now?”
“She was taken away. To this day, I’m not sure where,” Ash said sadly, his hand idly petting Calypso. Remnants of the lost princess danced through his vision. Flashes of her bright purple hair and the eyes to match haunted him.
“And you love her still?” Sophie rested her head against her knees, watching Ash.
He paused. Unsure.
“Don’t fight it. It’s written all over your face,” she laughed softly.
“She took my heart with her. I still have hers. Here.” He nodded, patting a hand against his broad tanned chest.
Sophie scoffed. “Ugh. It’s like you’re waiting for her to return! Eck, you make me sick!” She poked her tongue in disgust.
Ash laughed at that. “Say what you will, but love is powerful. People have started wars in its name,” he defended.
The following evening Ash flew Sophie and Calypso closer to Northern Helm station so she could meet up with the Fae group escorting the few humans back to Sotera. He landed softly on a grassy knoll that overlooked the scaffolding-covered station. The open platform was covered in fog and lit by moonlight. The departing train was docked, prepped and ready to go.
Sophie turned to Ash as he set Calypso down on the grass. The hellhound velcroed himself onto Sophie’s leg immediately, not wanting to say goodbye.
“You’re a good boy. No matter what that insufferable angel says,” Sophie whispered, scratching Calypso behind his ear.
The hellpup whimpered.
Ash crossed his arms. “You know I can hear you.”
“I know. I just wanted to get one more laugh out of your old and cranky immortal soul.”
“We’re literally the same age,” Ash pointed out.
“See? Cranky.” She pointed at Ash, while speaking to Calypso.
Ash let out a loud cackle. Sophie made him laugh. He enjoyed her wit and company. He’d miss it, that was certain.
“Well, are you just going to stand there or are you going to give this measly human a big old goodbye hug?”
Ash opened his arms and his wings, an offering. Sophie laughed. It was music to his ears. She walked straight to him, wrapping her petite arms around his waist. Her head leaned softly on his chest. He enveloped them both in his arms and wings.
They stood there for a while. Calypso whined with impatience just behind them.
Breaking from the hug, Sophie paused to pull something off her wrist.
It was a colourful bracelet, with beads in various shapes, sizes, fruits and flowers. Nothing could juxtapose Ash – a lethal angel warrior – more.
“I want you to have this. It’s not a family heirloom nor was it forged by immortals, but it is something dear to me,” she said, head tilted up to meet his eyes.
Ash didn’t even have the chance to object when she quickly grabbed his wrist and clasped the bracelet on. It barely fit around his wrist. Gaudy as it was, he appreciated it.
“I won’t remember you, but at least with this, you’ll remember me.” She smiled brightly.
He smiled right back and took her hand that lingered on his wrist. Bowing deeply, widening his wings behind him, he raised her hand to his lips in gratitude.
A blush formed on her cheeks. It made Ash smile even more as he bowed before her.
He let go of her hand reluctantly and called for Calypso to stay by his side. The hellpup obeyed, though whimpered in Sophie’s direction.
“Farewell, fair Sophie. Perhaps we’ll meet again.” He bowed his head again as she started down the grassy knoll.
Sophie walked down, halfway across the knoll when she suddenly paused and turned around. “Take care of him, will you? I think you and I both know he doesn’t belong down there.” She pointed down to the ground, to the Shadow Realm.
“I promise.” Ash grinned, waving as she turned around again and jogged the rest of the distance toward the tunnel entrance just before the station.
As soon as she jumped into the tunnel entrance, Ash sat down on the grassy knoll, Calypso jumping right into his lap. He consoled the hellpup as it whimpered and whined for Sophie. “It’s okay buddy, I’ve got you.”
The train tooted its horn, signalling its departure. The sound echoed all the way across the grass surrounding Northern Helm station.
Ash looked to his wrist where the colourful bracelet stood out from his tan skin. It was brazen. It was endearing. It summed up Sophie perfectly.
He scoffed at the thought of a mighty angel of the Godlands wearing such a thing. For Sophie, he would. He knew then that there was room in his heart for more. For someone else. Maybe someone like Sophie.
Ash toyed with the beads of the bracelet, flipping them over. Bead by bead, letters revealed themselves.
And as each letter began to form a name he’d long burned into his memories, it felt like acid was rising in his chest. And as the acid finally seized his throat, all that was left in its wake was unadulterated panic.
T.A.L.I.E.S.I.N, the bracelet spelled.
Sophie was . . . his long-lost princess. She had to be.
And he was about to lose her. Again.
It was something only the Fates could orchestrate.
Like lightning, Ash bolted up. His eyes fixing on the departing train just in time to see Sophie pop her head up in the carriage. She was waving him goodbye, the foolish girl.
The train started forward with a jolt.
He ran for her. “Wait!”
He burst into the air with a powerful beat of his wings, his arm stretching out in front of him, doing anything he could to get closer.
But as the distance between them closed, a burning sensation washed over his right arm underneath his vambrace, sending him crashing to the ground.
No.
Ash tried to right himself, but the pain was too much. A film of white light engulfed his entire forearm. He grimaced at the light, yanking off the vambrace. In place of it was an intricate tattoo, starting from the crook of his elbow all the way down to his index finger. It was made of complex Faery symbology and at the tip of his finger was the shape of a lock.
It was the soulmate bond, seared into his flesh.
That panic he felt before? It was nothing compared to this.
If felt like he’d been struck by lightning, several times over.
Ash tried to get back up again. He cradled his stinging arm as he tried to push into the air. He could still see her in the distance. Sophie, who was bracing her now tattooed left arm. Eyes wide. In shock. He knew he had the same expression written all over his face.
With a woosh, the train disappeared into the portal heading for Sotera.
Ash looked back at the bracelet Sophie gave him.
Taliesin. Sofreya Brighid Taliesin. His first love. His long-lost princess with purple hair and purple eyes.
Sophie’s eyes.
His soulmate.
Ash fell to his knees.
What hurt the most wasn’t that the breath from his lungs had ceased to cooperate. It wasn’t that he was only given a moment with Sophie, when all he wanted were moments and many more. It wasn’t that he was so preoccupied with his past that he failed to see the present. What hurt the most was that Sophie wouldn’t even remember him.