55. Raven Grimoire
Aleiraah
I’m drifting in an endless inky darkness. There’s a velvety feel to it as it envelops me from all sides. It engulfs me, seeping into my mouth, ears, nose, and eyes, until I’m one with it. I don’t know where it ends and where I begin. My awareness has merged with the ocean-like void.
How did I even end up here?
Who am I?
Then I feel a pulse. A sudden jolt.
Almost like a heartbeat, only louder, hungrier, that does not belong to me.
THUMP…THUMP…THUMP…
An eerie, sibilant voice brushes over me. “Aleiraah…”
It sounds silky…insidious.“Open your mind.”
I jerk, gasping as the darkness somehow wraps tighter.
“No,” I protest, trying but failing to get free, afraid that if I give in I’ll lose myself forever. “I’m—who are you?”
The darkness shivers as if with amusement, grazing against me like a caress of invasive fingers.
“I am the Raven Grimoire.” The ancient entity echoes, as if a thousand voices speaking all at once.
I try to shield my ears against the violent resonance, but I can’t feel my hands…
or my body. Something is very wrong. I know I have a corporeal form, I just can’t remember who or what I am. But the voice called me Aleiraah.
“Wh––what have you done to me?” I manage to think and it whispers, “You are finally mine now.”
Searing pain radiates from deep inside, and I scream into the void. It ripples with pleasure. Claiming. Consuming.
The pain threatens to splinter my thoughts. Even the name the entity uttered melts away…must remember…but…
Once again I sink into nothingness.
“Aleiraah…” A gentle voice calls. Warm, clean, cutting through the suffocating coldness of the inky void.
I follow the summon, tuning toward it instinctively—and a sudden ray of light blooms in the abyss.
A meadow, sun-drenched. Peaceful.
Slivers of memories flitter through my consciousness. A beautiful woman stands in the middle, hair shimmering like silk in the wind––Mother. Smiling exactly as I remember—warm, soft, whole, arms outstretched.
“Aleiraah,” she murmurs. “Come here, little star. I’ve missed you.”
I gape, tears filling my vision and I’m standing at the edge of the meadow in a flimsy ivory gown.
“Mother? But you’re dead…how?” I whisper, confusion stalling my steps, even as my heart yearns to embrace her. It's been so long.
Another figure steps beside Mother, tall, broad-shouldered, eyes glowing with paternal pride. Aquamarine eyes. My eyes.
Father!
“Daughter,” he says. “Let us hold you, again. Let us take you home.”
I take a step forward, unable to believe that I'm meeting my father for the first time. But that thought alone stops me in my tracks.
My voice breaks, disquiet mingling with trepidation. “You’re dead… you both died—”
I shake my head, trying to clear the edges of my vision that crawls with darkness again.
Mother’s smile widens. Too perfect. Too still.
“No—no, you’re not real. You can’t be.”
Mother’s voice softens further. “We can be together again…if you give into the Grimoire. And we will return, little star.”
Father’s hand extends outward.Fingers stretching.The nails blacken. “Don’t resist, child.”
“Come, darling, give yourself to the Grimoire,” Mother cajoles.“We can be a family. With our grandbabies.” The look of pure avarice in her eyes sickens me with dread.
"I want you back. But not like this." I stumble back, hand hovering protectively over my swollen belly. My breaths turn ragged. "No! No! This is not real!"
The darkness hisses, displeased.
My parents’ faces distort—stretch—then crack. Their smiles turn into gaping maws. “GIVE. IN. ALEIRAAH.”
Their fingers turn into gnarly branches, shooting toward me. Before they can wrap around my body, a beam of milky-white light slices through the darkening meadow and a towering female appears.
She limps forward, carrying a staff in her hand, a single translucent eye emitting the light.
The cyclops!
“The Grimoire lies,” she growls. “You must wake up! Before it devours you.”
I tremble, feeling cold and weak. “Who are you? What is happening?” I try to retreat back into the void, afraid that this too is a trick.
“Child, stop! I mean you no harm. They are puppets.”
I recoil, dawning horror ratcheting my anxiety. “You—Vroc sacrificed you!”
The cyclops nods, “Yes. And my death bound me to this cursed tome. But it also freed me to see the truths it wishes to be hidden.”
The darkness writhes violently, shrieking.
“I’m the oracle who was devoured by the Raven Grimoire––” Her voice is hoarse but commanding.
“––a primeval, powerful but malevolent source of magic. And if you don’t hurry and wake up, it will absorb you and your powers.
Unforeseen destruction will befall across realms if its magic is unleashed beyond Haalbeg. ” She warns me urgently.
“Why are you helping me? How do I get free?” I ask, noticing the darkness creeping closer as her light rapidly fades.
“Because this was always my destiny." She lifts her hand and the darkness shrieks as if burned.
“And because I saw your truth. You are no ordinary person, Aleiraah. You are a soul demon—one of the rarest beings to ever exist. One who attracts soul tethers to reach that perfect balance of magic and heart. You light up the way for lost souls. You can defeat the Grimoire, Aleiraah! Use the connection with your mates.”
The abyss howls, trying to drown out her words.
I stare at the cyclops, while a slumbering awareness unfurls deep within. “A…soul demon?”
“Yes.” The cyclops lifts her spectral hand, and light bursts from her palm.
Seven glowing rings spin around me, orbiting with pure celestial energy. A vibration resonates from my chest like a heartbeat, and a column of light shoots upward like an arrow.
Clutching my stomach, I gasp. “Just like my tattoo…”
“The rings represent your soul tethers…your mates,” her voice echoes.
“Bound to you through seven lifetimes. You find them. Then lose them. Over and over. Each life forging a bond. Your powers were fragmented and scattered across seven lifetimes. But fate intervened and in each life, you’d meet a fragment of your destined anchors so the soul-weave could strengthen.
Your memories of past lives helped you gather your magic. ”
“But why did I lose my powers? I don’t have any memories of past lives as you say.” Bewildered, I question the oracle who’s turned translucent now.
“The Grimoire tried to seduce you for your powers, just like it manipulated Vroc, but you refused. It knew you were the key to it achieving the pinnacle of magic. The cursed tome sought a corporeal form and wanted you as the vessel. When you fought back, it cursed you, splintering your magic. It managed to suppress your memories in your last rebirth because you had almost succeeded.”
The more she reveals, incendiary rage flares in my body. I’ll turn that moldy old tome to ash once I get my hands on it!
“Vroc said my father possessed similar power, to unlock the Grimoire. And when he died, Vroc fixated on me.”
“A lie. The entity lied to him, all the Grimoire ever wanted was to devour your soul. Your babies have enriched your magic beyond measure as predicted, and the Grimoire was betting on that. You are more powerful than ever.” She looks at me with compassion, and my gaze drops to my massive belly.
The babies have been still for so long that fear grips me.
“Your mates are fighting for you, but you need to hurry,” the cyclops urges.
I shudder, as a knowing as old as time blooms within. "My seven mates."
“United at last. This lifetime was meant to complete the circle of reincarnation. Your destiny to become whole again.” The cyclops says in a gentle voice and presses a finger to my forehead.
A long-buried truth suddenly surges through my veins. And then—a barrage of images flood my mind.Memories…of past lives. My lives.
The darkness lunges, trying to swallow me whole. Dark, twisted roots strike at me like serpents, piercing my limbs, making me scream in pain.
The cyclops shouts desperately. “FIGHT IT! YOUR SEVEN WILL COME!”
But I'm lost to the memories.
A battlefield under a burning red sky. I stand, sword in hand, blood smeared across my face and arms.A soldier with storm-gray eyes presses his forehead to mine. “Until next time,” he vows.
A grand library lit with floating candles. I kiss a gentle male with ink-stained fingers and laughter in his eyes. “Our minds are one,” he whispers.“Even death cannot part us, my sweet.”
Salt spray and sky-splitting thunder. I laugh, wild and free, as a tattooed pirate lifts me onto the bow of his ship. “Seven seas, we’ll sail,” he says. “Seven lives we’ll live. You’re mine in all of them.”
Endless dunes.A scorching sun and sandy winds.A fierce warrior bows to me, pressing my hand to his chest. “My soul belongs to you alone.”
Snow-covered peaks.The scent of pine.A soft-spoken healer ties a red thread around my wrist.
“This binds us,” he murmurs. “Forever.”
Moonlit courtyard.A masked figure kneels before me. “I kill for no king,” he says.“Only for you, fearless one.”
A sky of burning amber, meteor showers falling from above.A massive cloaked male curls around me protectively, molten-gold eyes glowing. “I shall find you again,” he rumbles.
The visions shatter like glass and I collapse on my knees, feeling the overwhelming love and crippling loss of past lifetimes.
The cyclops is gone. The malevolent darkness springs at me, coiling around my body, sinking me into its dripping maw.
“You cannot escape,” the Grimoire hisses venomously. “You belong to me. Surrender your body! Your power is mine!”
And a sudden heat blazes in my soul like the sun. The memories have unlocked something long forgotten.
“NEVER.I AM NOT YOURS.” I bellow as I rip out the gnarly roots burrowing into my skin. Blood spills from the wounds but surprisingly I feel stronger.
"I. AM. A. SOUL. DEMON." The self-affirmation erupts, vibrating with power.