Chapter 17 #2
This is what I’ve waited for, though, right?
I mean, for months I’ve been dealing with all of this alone, suffocating with questions I cannot answer, and now I am finally about to get them.
This constant divide in my head between my normal and the alternate reality they're telling me is the truth, is tearing me apart.
Heat pricks my skin, and the lightheadedness starts to flutter through me.
Gripping my water, I walk toward the couch in the corner and sit down, curling my knees up to my chest. I inhale deeply, trying desperately to fight off the impending panic attack.
I feel rising in my chest, trying to use my breath to steady and calm myself.
Even though it might be uncomfortable, it’s no more uncomfortable than the torn reality I’ve been existing in for months. I need to know what’s going on, all of it.
Taking a grounding breath, I finally look up at them.
“You, ok?” Knox’s brow furrows.
“I’m fine, it’s just a lot,” I say, waving him off as I take another swig of my water.
Knox grabs my sweater and pulls the chair he was sitting in over in front of me. He hands it to me, but his intense stare continues as he sits down.
Zayne fidgets, still leaning on his desk, his gaze just fixated on my arm.
What is he thinking?
Does he think I’m weak? Or is he wondering how I could be foolish enough to let this happen? Or perhaps that I’m na?ve to allow Jasper close enough to hurt me like this?
“Poor, poor, Myssa. If you were more like your sister, maybe boys would like you.”
I wince, remembering my mother’s words. I drape my sweater over my arm, and for some reason, this seems to snap Zayne out of his daze. Without a word, he takes the chair I was sitting in and pulls it up beside Knox.
But he doesn’t sit, he just stands there, his imposing presence seeming to only intensify the silence, which is growing heavier by the second.
When neither of them is willing to say anything, I can’t help but get frustrated. Yes, this is a lot. Yes, I have emotions, but I’m fucking done waiting.
“Alright, now it’s your turn.”
And just like that, I have their attention.
“How about you two explain to me how the hell this is all happening?”
They stare at me, and then at each other, before Zayne takes a deep breath.
“I suppose we should start at the beginning,” he sighs.
“The world we live in,” he gestures around the room, “is one of so many. The gods, seemingly bored with their own existence, created us for their own amusement.
“Amusement?” I question,
Knox just shakes his head and laughs. “Yeah, even though we’re these soul bound entities, we are just play things to the Gods. They dress us up like paper dolls, with different shapes, colors, thoughts, and emotions. Basically, think Build-a-Bear, but instead of bears, it’s build a human.”
Zayne sighs again, this time rubbing his eyes.
“As asinine as that description is,” he starts. “It’s not entirely inaccurate.”
I take a deep breath, trying to process what I’ve just been told.
I’d like to say that I’m shocked. And I am. But not as much as I thought I would be.
I mean, how much do we really know about how we became who we are?
Zayne walks to the fridge, grabbing water for himself and Knox.
My mind is spinning.
Earlier, Zayne had mentioned that my dreams could sometimes be flashes of past lives I’d lived.
But this revelation only brings more questions bubbling to the surface.
Is that what these random memories and Déjà vu moments are?
Have I met him in a past life?
How many lives have I lived already?
How many more will I endure?
But before I am pulled under the current of my own thoughts, Zayne starts up again.
“Anger, lust, kindness, sadness, fear, empathy, rage.” He pauses, staring down at me.
I trail where his eyes are directed, seeing my scar peaking past my sweater. Quickly, I cover it back up, seeing the effect it seems to invoke in him.
His throat bobs as he continues. “These emotions were poured into each of us, mixing together to see what it would create. All emotions have their place, but one emotion would break all others.” His intense stare fixated on mine causes my pulse to quicken. “Love. Love is the most powerful.”
I can’t help but want to reach out and touch him.
Is love what I’m feeling when I look at him?
I watch him open the bottle and take a drink.
I want to be that water right now.
Oh…my…God. Myssa, get a grip, I internally scold myself.
Feeling my cheeks redden at the thought, I blink rapidly, discouraging these impulsive thoughts as he continues.
“Millions of human souls were created at the beginning of time. But each had a small piece missing, a cruel flaw in their design, you would think. However, the small darkness in each soul was there to create a type of imperfect balance.”
“That doesn’t make sense, though,” I interrupt. “Why deliberately add a flaw to something instead of making it perfect?”
“To the Gods, perfection was the flaw. It was boring, predictable,” he counters.
“Souls were always meant to interact with each other. But what they didn’t expect was how particular souls would interact with one another.
And how that hole, purposely left by the Gods, could be filled by another soul and complete them.
A tethering of two souls in an unbreakable bond that made them more powerful than any other. ”
“Soulmates,” I whisper.
As unexpected and strange as this information sounds, in a weird way, it makes sense to me. I’ve always found the concept of soulmates interesting.
Not everyone is meant to be together, but when you come across that true connection, it is such a sight to see. They move differently together; their demeanor is overpowering; you can feel the love radiating off them.
When I look up at Zayne, I find he’s already staring at me, his hazel eyes studying me so intensely that I’m certain he can see my heart beating within my chest.
“Is this too much?” he asks quietly.
I straighten my back and shake my head.
“No,” I reply. “I mean, it is a lot, but as crazy as some of this sounds, it’s not totally outlandish. But I do have questions.”
“Like what?”
“Like, how do you know all this?” I ask, swallowing hard. “And how does this tie into Jasper and my sister?”
“Jasper runs Aetheriem—”
“Well, he did until he lost his shit.” Knox snorts.
Zayne punches him in the shoulder.
“What?” he says, rubbing his arm. “It’s true, isn’t it?”
“What the hell is Aetheriem?” I ask, confused.
“We’re getting there,” Zayne says, glaring again at Knox. “Well, we will be if someone can keep their outbursts under control.”
Knox throws his hands in the air, gesturing his surrender.
“What does this have to do with soulmates?” I ask.
“In order to explain soulmates to you, I first need to explain what an Original actually is.”
“Okay.” I nod, settling back into the couch.
“The first human souls created were labeled the “Originals”. However, there was an unforeseen bi-product of the attention the Gods poured into their creation, because even though they never intended to imbue their play things with any power, the light that illuminated their souls shone almost as bright as the Gods themselves.”
“Serves the selfish bastards, right!” Knox shrugs, shooting me a wink.
Zayne shakes his head, but continues on.
“As these original souls live their lives, they’d sometimes create other souls through their offspring. And although these new souls still had all the emotions and representations of the Originals, they never shone as bright. They are known as Descendants.”
“Rinse, lather, and repeat, if you know what I mean,” Knox adds, taking a swig of his water.
“Bro, would you shut the fuck up?” Zayne snaps.
“What?” He shrugs. “This shit is heavy, and I’m just trying to help.”
Zayne grumbles under his breath and turns to me.
“Does this make sense so far?”
“I think so.” I nod. “So, everyone is technically a descendant of the Original souls, correct?”
“Correct,” he replies. “Unless you are an Original yourself.”
“Which is incredibly rare,” Knox adds, this time quietly.
“But we all go to the same place when we die?”
“No. I’m afraid it’s a bit more complicated than that.”
“What do you mean?”
“Originals and Descendants would move on from afterlife to afterlife, with the Gods watching their story like reality TV show. Not everyone would move to the same afterlife however.”
“What do you mean? Why would it be different for some?”
“Because there are different dimensions and multiple versions of the afterlife. Rarely do two souls progress to the same afterlife.”
“Well, that’s depressing,” I say softly. “Most people want to see their loved ones when they die.”
“Remember, most people are Descendants. When a Descendant dies, they lose all emotional connection to the life and people they had in this world. There’s no pain, or feeling of loss or longing, because there is no feeling whatsoever. Their soul simply progresses to the afterlife to start again.”
“Unless you’re an Original,” Knox interjects. “Then it can be different.”
“Different, how?”
“Originals can sometimes remember their past lives,” Zayne explains. “Or feel a connection to their soulmate.”
“What kind of connection?” I ask, my throat going dry.
Zayne stares at me, his face full of an emotion I cannot place.
“It’s rare for soulmates to find each other.
Many lifetimes can pass between before they reconnect.
But their souls are bonded, tethered to one another across space and time.
And when they finally find one another, there’s an inexplicable pull between them.
A sense of knowing and belonging that defies reality. ”
He pauses, inhaling deeply.
“Basically, when an Original crosses paths with their soulmate, they would feel as though they are familiar. As if this person has always been a part of them—because they are.”
“I see,” I whisper.
My eyes find Zayne’s, and suddenly the room around me feels as if it’s pulsating.