Chapter 7 - Sylas #4
Commotion over where past Remnant and my younger self were took my attention, as Remnant held tight to him as he screamed into his hand, flailing and his young power sparking wildly, Remnant absorbing it all, although not without damage as the agony in his eyes made clear.
A roar from Morien rang out, followed by the sharp sounds of necks snapping rapidly, and I chanced looking back at the house to see he’d murdered those controlled members of The Shadowed, and they were now sprawled out, their rapidly desiccating bodies covering my mom and sister.
He smiled to himself, then took off in a burst of teleportation.
Remnant released my younger self, and the latter turned around to face him.
“I wouldn’t have been strong enough to stop it, would I?”
“Not yet, no.”
“And if you’d tried to speed them away, my father would have caught you in his Undead Domination spell? I felt it extending outward, so he’d figured you might come.”
“That is correct. I am so very sorry for all of this.”
“It’s not your fault.” My younger self collapsed to his knees then, sobbing uncontrollably, magic sparking, but not harming.
Remnant didn’t shy away.
Instead, he knelt down and stroked his back in comfort. “You will go on, I promise you that. I will help you. You will not be alone, young one.”
“No,” he spoke to Remnant, lifting his head, eyes rimmed red, tears streaming down his cheeks.
“No?” Remnant questioned.
“My mom’s fears…”
“Unfounded fears. You are not Morien.”
“I can’t trust in that. Not yet. I need to study and learn.
I need to be stable. But that time isn’t now.
I could zone in on your vampires being the ones who actually did this to my mom and sister, especially if I can’t find my dad to get justice that way.
I might go after the next best thing if my magic starts to corrupt me.
And my mom has told me how important The Shadowed is to the world.
I won’t hurt it. I won’t hurt you—you spared me.
But, like with my father, power can twist things if you can’t handle it. ”
Remnant went to protest.
“I can’t remember it this way. I can’t take the chance. It has to look like an attack by enemies that were already dealt with. So then vengeance won’t get its claws into me.”
“You can handle this. There’s no need for—”
“You have the capability to scent-wipe and alter the evidence inside the house?”
“I do, however—”
“Then do that. I’ll alter my memory and it’ll be as though I just arrived home and found them… found them… dead.”
“Listen, youngling, it doesn’t—”
“You have twenty minutes before Oblivisca will take permanent effect.”
My younger self rose to his feet shakily, fresh grief still clearing wracking his body and mind alike. And then he upturned his palms and performed the spell.
A flash of silver and crimson light obscured my vision and the memory fell away.
I drew in a harsh breath as I blinked back to the current time and reality.
I staggered, my hand slipping from Remnant’s on the Stone of Recollection.
Our gazes clashed.
Intensity flared from him.
And a whole lot of concern.
He was steeling himself for my reaction—and the damage that it might cause.
There would be none. No damage.
“All these years and I didn’t know it was him who’d murdered them. I even checked for his magical signature. It was one of the first things I did. Then Ryker arrived and introduced himself, took me to a Coven…”
“I am so very sorry.”
I scrubbed my hand over my face as he pocketed the Stone of Recollection.
“Magic-wielders don’t tend to perform Oblivisca on themselves.”
“Most can’t. Even then, though, you were an outlier.”
I sucked in a breath. “They died because of my mom’s fear. Fear Morien had instilled so deep in her.”
“She died because of her love and that is what Morien twists. Just like he also excels at corrupting the good intentions in others.”
“He failed in this case,” I ground out. “And you don’t need to worry, it’s clear The Shadowed were his victims that night. They weren’t responsible for their actions and they even suffered under his cruelty as well.”
I held out my hand. “Thank you. You saved my life.”
He took my offering and smiled sadly, a heaviness settling over us as we both obviously tried to reconcile what we’d just relived all too vividly.
When I pulled away, I told him, “You made a good call revealing this to me now, before we encountered him again. He would have tried to twist things to his liking. And even if he’d failed to make me believe the blame fell on your agents, the shock of the revelation could have impacted me mid-battle. ”
“His influence has been further lessened.”
“Yeah, it has.” I cocked my head to the side.
“So, why concern yourself so much with this? With me turning on you as a result of his lies? You know I won’t waver from my goal of putting the motherfucker down.
And even following through on breaking the tether between you and Victor—for Lazriel’s benefit, if not yours.
Is it concerning this potential solution to fix the Valley of the Dead that you alluded to earlier?
Whatever it is must possess insane power…
were you concerned it wouldn’t be safe in my hands?
Or is it illicit, so you were worried I’d report it to the supernatural authorities out of spite or something? ”
“The solution is a living heart powered by True Celestial magic, the very thing that rejuvenated those necromantic cores we used in your transplant, bringing them back from death state.”
I choked.
“Fuck. Me.”
“Indeed. It’s a lot to absorb. It was for me also when we first managed to forge such a thing.”
“Something like that… the regenerating aspects being that extreme… yeah, it could certainly heal the Valley.”
“I’ll show it to you in a moment. However, that’s not the reason you’re searching for, the reason behind me being concerned with your mental and magical stability, ensuring black magic infection is an impossibility for you, bringing you to the Shadow Tunnels when I could have protected you above ground. ”
I folded my arms across my chest. “Then what is it?”
He stepped up to me and laid his hand on my shoulder. “I want you to join me.”
“You… what?”
“I wish for you to become Commander of The Shadowed.”
Mystic Heart.
That was what they were aptly calling the Celestial powered magical organ.
Able to infuse with life and to revitalize from death state… it was absolutely revolutionary.
I scrubbed my hand over my jaw as I studied it protected within Investigative Sanctum, deep in the depths of this site of the Shadow Tunnels.
A living golden heart pulsing energy and contained within a white magical field.
My attention flitted between it and the rest of the magical research area. The place was empty right now because Remnant had afforded me some alone time with it to examine everything within—full disclosure.
He was really confident that I’d take on the role of Commander like he’d offered.
My words to Lazriel and Cassius weeks ago played on my mind as I assessed the situation.
“But there has to be a line. And you all need me to walk it, whether you’re willing to admit that or not. Because… fuck… the world we live in…. To survive and to not be subjugated by others, you need to be willing to do the unthinkable. And I am. I always have been.”
If I became Commander, not only could I continue to live up to that, but I’d be able to do it a whole lot easier without so much constraint, or others trying to force my fucking hand. And I’d also be able to do it on a much grander scale. The resources and reach of The Shadowed was unparallelled.
Lazriel, Velra, and Cassius, though… how would they view this? How would we work with this?
A rush of wind whipped through the area.
I spun, surprised to see Remnant bursting on in.
It had been his suggestion to give me space after the Stone of Recollection intensity and upset, followed by the weight of both the existence of the heart and then his shocking job offer.
As soon as he slowed enough for me to take in his eyes, the rest of his face hidden behind the metal mask again, I stilled, a nasty chill rolling down my spine.
He looked… terrified.
That didn’t compute where he was concerned.
As he neared me and our gazes clashed, pain set in as well.
I swallowed hard. “What’s happened?”
“It’s Lazriel.” He snagged a nearby beaker and clenched his fingers, crushing it to pieces, glass exploding. “He’s been taken.” He slammed his fist down on the long workbench and it utterly decimated under the wrath of his supreme strength, as he snarled, “Victor has him.”