Chapter 17 Reflections #2
“He thinks I’m his Siren,” I said, the words coming out slow, as though saying them out loud might anchor something that was already beginning to drift.
“That’s why this is happening. That’s why he’s…” I hesitated, my brows pulling together slightly as I searched for the right word, though none of them quite fit anymore.
“Why he’s like this with me.” Bo’s reaction was immediate. A short, sharp breath of disbelief that almost bordered on a quiet laugh, though there was no real amusement in it.
“Sirens aren’t something you just stumble across,” he said, shaking his head slightly as his gaze held mine.
“They haven’t been found, Eliza. You don’t think that if they had, every Enforcer out there wouldn’t be hunting them down by now?”
His words made sense. More sense than I wanted them to.
“That doesn’t mean they don’t exist,” I pushed back, despite it not being long ago that I had doubted being one, as Wye claimed me to be.
Which told me everything I needed to know.
That sleeping with him had changed everything, mainly how desperate I was to be his someone special.
And that in itself just made me feel sad.
Because even if I had been his Siren, it still left the question of heartache open.
It still left me wondering if he cared about me as a person, or if it meant that fate had ensured he had no choice in the matter.
That I could have been literally anyone, and he would still have classed me as being his.
Honestly, that realization was more depressing than anything else I had learned today.
Yet despite this, I still found myself arguing,
“You don’t know that he’s wrong.”
“No, but I do know that if you’re not his Siren and you have already spent the night in his bed, then things will get fucked up pretty quickly.
” I flinched at this, especially seeing as he had already guessed that Wye and I had already crossed a line.
And from the sounds of it, a pretty big one at that.
“Okay, you need to explain that part.”
“It’s like I told you before, it’s forbidden for our kind to be with a mortal,” he said, making every muscle in my body tense before I asked,
“Does that mean…”
“Punishment, Eliza. Even for someone as powerful as Oblivion, as he still answers to the King of Kings, and Lord Draven is not a King you want to piss off.” I shuddered at the thought, now terrified for a whole new reason.
“But he seemed so sure,” I muttered, mostly to myself.
“There is a way to test it,” he said then, shocking me out of my turbulent thoughts.
“How?” I asked, foolishly feeling hope bloom within me once more.
“That relic I told you, the one Walder wants. There is a reason behind it.”
“Walder, is that the guy who has this safe haven?” I asked focusing on the name.
“Tarik Walder, yes, he is the one who rules a place called the Vault. But he is also the Enforcer that rules the Midwest and someone who has been searching for a Siren for a long time, along with others, no doubt,” he replied, which then led me to more important questions,
“So, this Relic, is that what he believes will help him find her?” Bo nodded and told me,
“It is said to react to a Siren’s essence, speaks to their ancient soul, so to speak… no doubt one of the reasons Oblivion believes you are one is because of your magic.” I frowned at that, already opening my mouth, ready to argue, but I stopped when he gave me a pointed look.
“Okay, so yeah, clearly something is going on with me…” I scanned the length of him and muttered,
“Case in point.” As I couldn’t deny that I had brought him here. Now, how exactly I had done it still remained to be seen. But what if Bo was right? What if Oblivion had gotten it into his head that I was one of the Lost Sirens because I possessed some magical abilities?
“So, this Relic, did you find it?” At this, he smirked and held his hand out in front of me, but there was nothing there.
“Erh, is it like invisible or something, because I don’t think that’s going to fly with this Walder guy,” I said, making Bo groan,
“Jeez, give it time, I am concentrating here,” he complained, and before I could think of a witty comeback, something started to appear in his hand.
“Is that it… a mirror?” I asked, as it wasn’t exactly what I had been expecting, although this wasn’t an Indiana Jones movie, so I guess my expertise on relics was pretty limited.
Either way, it was definitely smaller than I had expected, though there was nothing insignificant about it.
The object caught the light in a way that made it seem to reflect more than it should have.
The surface shifted subtly beneath the glow as if it were not simply glass, but something far older.
Its frame was intricate, etched with delicate patterns that curled and wove into one another with careful intention.
The craftsmanship unmistakably ancient, as though untouched by time.
There was something almost divine about it.
Something that made it feel less like an object and more like a symbol.
As though it carried meaning far beyond its form.
“The Mirror of Veritas,” Bo said quietly, his gaze flicking briefly toward it before returning to me. The name settled within me in a way that felt heavier than it should have. Stirring something faint and distant in my memory, something I hadn’t thought about in years.
Veritas.
Truth.
But wait… how did I know that?
My eyes drifted back to it, drawn, despite myself, to the surface. To the way it seemed to hold more than a reflection, as though it wasn’t interested in what you looked like, only in what you were at your core.
“It’s not just a mirror,” Bo continued, his tone measured, although there was something quieter beneath it that almost bordered on respect.
“It was designed to show things as they truly are. No illusion. No distortion. Just… truth.”
The word lingered, as I had been right. Something about it felt far too close to what I had just seen, to the file still clutched in my hand. But also, to the fragile uncertainty now threading its way through everything I thought I understood.
“In the old world,” he added, his gaze lowering briefly to the relic,
“Truth wasn’t something you claimed. It was something you proved, and Veritas was the Goddess of truth.”
My breath slowed slightly, my focus narrowing on the mirror as something deeper seemed to hum beneath its surface.
“They used to depict her in two ways,” he continued, quieter now.
“Clothed in white, untouched, pure. Or as nuda veritas… the naked truth. No veil. No disguise. Just what is.”
A faint shiver slipped down my spine at that. Because the way he said it didn’t feel like history, but it felt more like a warning.
“The Greeks called her Aletheia,” he went on, almost absently, though his eyes had lifted back to mine now, watching closely.
“Truth laid bare.”
My fingers tightened slightly at my sides as I looked at the mirror again, something uneasy settling low in my chest. Because I understood what he was telling me without him having to say it outright. This wasn’t about what I believed or what Oblivion believed. This was about what fate saw in me.
And whether I was ready or not to see it.
“If you’re what he thinks you are,” Bo said, his voice quieter now, steady in a way that left no room for doubt,
“This will show you your true self.”
My throat tightened as I stepped closer, the mirror tilting slightly in his hand as it angled toward me.
And for one tiny, hopeful moment, I caught myself staring back at me, waiting for it to show me more.
But it didn’t. It showed nothing more than my fragile expression, one that I barely recognized.
My fingers lifted slowly, my breath catching as I reached out and touched the surface.
As I waited for something, anything, that might justify the weight of the moment pressing in around us.
But there was nothing. No warmth, no shift, no recognition, only my own reflection staring back at me unchanged, unremarkable, and painfully ordinary.
The silence stretched just long enough to settle something heavy in my chest before I pulled my hand back. My fingers curling faintly as though they had expected more, as though they had been waiting for something that had simply never come.
The silent devastation sank in deep and pierced my heart as I realized, once and for all, Wye and I could never be together. I hated how the tears filled my eyes, but I couldn’t stop them regardless. I simply shook my head and told him,
“No…” I breathed, quieter this time, because there was nothing left to argue against.
“Wye… he… he was wrong,” I said as my eyes tore from the mirror, as though I could no longer stand seeing my own reflection there. My image was forever tainted now by the memory of this day.
The day my heart broke.
“If he finds out…” I said slowly, my voice tightening as the thought formed fully,
“…if he… realizes he’s wrong, then he’s the one who will pay for it, isn’t he?
” Bo nodded, telling me all I needed to know.
Because this was no longer about what I was or wasn’t, but about him.
It was about what he had already risked, and what it would cost him if it had all been for the wrong reason.
Bo didn’t interrupt, and he didn’t need to. Because I was already there, already making the decision before I had even fully admitted it to myself.
“We have to leave,” I stated after slapping down the file I still had clutched in one hand, leaving it on the counter as I walked to the door.
“Better be quick, girly, I am not sure how long my diversion is going to last.” I gave him a brief nod and slipped out of the room, unable to look at the bed, as the memory of being there with him was too raw. Too painful… too shattering.
Tears were falling, despite trying to hold it together long enough to get dressed.
I barely even looked at what I was grabbing from my bag, pulling things out as if on autopilot.
Droplets of water still clung to my messy strands, dripping on my bare shoulders as I put on my underwear.
I then dragged a pair of light blue jeans up my legs, rolled down a burgundy t-shirt, and then zipped up a navy-blue hoodie.
I didn’t even bother with socks, too concerned about time as I stuffed my feet into a pair of white sneakers.
Of course, I had no real clue as to where we were going, I only knew of the urgency to leave this place. To leave Wye, with the hopes that he would soon learn the truth for himself and that he, too, would realize it was for the best.
Although right now, not even these thoughts helped ease the pain I felt in knowing that I would never see him again.
“Don’t look… don’t look… don’t look,” I whispered to myself as I made my way back to the bathroom, once more determined that I wouldn’t look at the bed.
But then, clearly, I hadn’t tortured myself enough, as that was precisely what I did.
My tears came thick and fast then, blurring my vision even as I could see us both there.
The memory of this morning was so perfect, it stole my breath.
But then the sound registered, and my gaze tore from the bed and straight to the door instead. The unmistakable sound of footsteps and voices just outside the hallway made my eyes widen in panic before I ran into the bathroom. I slammed the door shut and hissed in panic,
“He’s back!”
“We don’t have time,” Bo said, his voice sharper now, urgency cutting cleanly through the moment as he stepped back toward the bathroom.
“Now, Eliza.”
That was all it took as the sound of movement beyond the door grew louder. The shower was still running, steam thick in the air, but not enough to veil what Bo was doing now.
“What is that?” I asked, my gaze catching on the paper he pulled from his back pocket. He unfolded it quickly before I could see that its surface was covered in symbols. Ancient markings that seemed to shift when I looked too closely, as though they weren’t entirely fixed in place.
“Coordinates,” he said shortly.
“Think of it like a map, you just need to do your thing.”
“My thing… right,” I echoed under my breath, though there was no time to question it, not when the sound of the door handle shifting echoed through the room.
“Eliza?” The sound of my name coming from Wye again stole the air from my lungs. Especially knowing it was the last time I would ever hear him say my name.
“Now,” Bo urged with a panicked hiss of his own.
My heart slammed hard against my ribs as I focused, forcing everything else out. The fear, the doubt, the ache of what I was about to do. But mainly the pain of losing Wye forever.
I pushed all of it aside as something instinctive rose up in its place.
The power came fast this time, easier than before, as though something inside me already knew what to do.
Like it was already responding to the symbols, before the air in front of me started to warp and twist. The world now folding in on itself until a tear opened, jagged and unstable but very, very real regardless.
That was when the door behind us burst open, and I turned around to see… Wye.
He stood in the doorway, his presence filling the space instantly.
His wide eyes quickly narrowed, his gaze locking onto mine with a sharpness that made something in my chest ache.
Because there was no confusion there, no hesitation, only that same consuming certainty that had undone me from the very beginning.
“Eliza, don’t!” he growled the order, but it was one I knew I had to ignore. For both our sakes.
“I’m sorry.”
I didn’t know if he heard it and didn’t know if it mattered. Because the pull of the portal took hold the second I stepped back, the air shifted violently around me as the world distorted. His figure blurred at the edges even as I tried to hold onto the sight of him for just one second longer.
Then I was gone.
And the last sound I heard…
Was a demon’s fury.