Chapter 43
Chapter Forty-Three
She was paralyzed by dread at the sight of Milán—huge and threatening. No vestige remained of the cordiality he had shown at first. In its place was the leer of a scavenger, gazing greedily at one who is close to death.
“You know, Augustine? I really wished for things to be different with you. I truly hoped you’d be my girlfriend the easy way, that you’d understand I’m your best option,” Milán sighed in frustration. “This is all your fault; you strung me along, and in the end, you played dumb.”
“What are you talking about? When have I ever given you any shred of hope?” Augustine glared at him with unadulterated contempt.
Milán chuckled under his breath and, without warning, dealt a blow to her cheek with his hand so brutal that it whipped her face around.
Augustine felt her skin throb from the force of the impact. Her Shadows screamed with an unbearable, furious shriek. She could sense their hunger for destruction and had to exert an immense effort to restrain them.
“My Queen, this human has slain before,” Agor groaned. “This place is filled with human remains in its foundations… his hands smell of blood and sin. Allow us to destroy him for you.”
“What do you intend to do with me?” Augustine asked. At that moment, she beheld Milán’s A’aruin arrive. A chill ran down her spine; an expression of savage pleasure spread across his face upon seeing the thread of blood trickling from her lips.
“Well, you serve me alive or dead, my little Augustine. Your body will be equally delicious to me in both cases.”
He approached, brandishing his bat casually, but he hadn’t taken two steps before he was violently slammed against the wall. Alderian looked almost unrecognizable. His eyes had a red glow like fire; his wings looked like incandescent volcanic stone, and his expression screamed death.
Augustine could not fathom what she was beholding.
Alderian was no longer just a spiritual presence.
He had shoved Milán and was holding him by the throat, nearly seven feet above the ground.
Milán looked at him with bulging eyes, gasping for air.
Milán’s A’aruin was shouting words she couldn’t understand.
She saw only Alderian and Milán’s Black Thread, foretelling his imminent death.
Ilyr.
That word sounded sweet, but it promised imprisonment for Alderian because of what he was about to do.
“Alderian, stop!” Augustine cried out, her voice choked.
Alderian squeezed Milán’s neck harder; his lips were turning blue. She took a step into the darkness and closed her eyes in desperation.
“Emerge,” she ordered with an imperious voice.
Her Shadows rose like a pack of wolves that had been waiting for the signal to attack.
Like a swarm, they hit Milán, shoving Alderian away.
They devoured him in a matter of seconds.
Not a single bone of him remained. Agor had already picked his next target and, in one clean move, he raised his greatsword and wiped out Milán’s A’aruin, who watched the scene cluelessly. He vanished like a mirage.
After that, a monstrous silence.
“It was me… I killed them. Go, Alderian,” Augustine ordered, trembling.
Alderian seemed stunned. He stared at her, then at the spot where Milán had just been, hesitating.
“They will come… they won’t be long. Go, Augustine, I’ll handle it from here,” Alderian tried to force a calm voice, but he couldn’t hide his shock.
“Let them come. I’m staying here—” Augustine whispered through a tight throat.
“Oh, no… you aren’t.”
Alderian approached her with a determined step, surrounded her with his wings, and before she could blink, they were in Augustine’s room. She spun around, disoriented.
“At least I can do this,” he said, giving her a tender kiss—a soft touch she had yearned for so long. She wanted to hold on to his unexpected warmth, but Alderian was already gone.
“No… No!” she screamed, heading for the door in desperation.
How long would it take her to get back to the warehouse? It was raining heavily outside; rush hour was a mess, and she didn’t even have her car now. It would take her at least an hour to get there. She’d never make it in time.
“Agor!” she choked out, her breath hitching.
“My Lady,” the knight emerged from the shadows of her room, expectant.
“Can you take me back?”
“To do what your A’aruin just performed is a gift only few possess. The power to transport matter is not a common skill,” Agor said.
“Shit!” Augustine muttered under her breath.
“They are coming, my Lady. They are coming for Her Excellency,” Agor announced, fading back into the darkness.
Augustine was sitting on her bed when they arrived. Three A’aruin and a child she recognized immediately. She stared him straight in the eyes, defiant.
“Withdraw,” the Guardian of Oblivion ordered.
Once they were alone, he approached, holding her gaze. “Whatever you do, you must survive,” he said calmly.
“Did you know it was me? That the anomaly was my doing?” she asked, a trace of bitterness slipping into her voice.
The child nodded.
“I killed Milán, it wasn’t Alderian,” she blurted out in anguish.
“I know, but Alderian has agreed to take on that responsibility.”
Augustine stood up, her fists clenched and her face distraught.
“Please, I’m begging you, don’t let this happen. I did it! I’ll take the blame. I’ll go to prison, I’ll turn myself in to the police.”
“There is no need for any of that,” he said, his voice steady and unfazed. “The human you have subdued with your Shadows has been erased from the memory of this world. No one knows he ever even existed.”
Augustine could barely keep her feet. “I don’t get it.”
“I am the Guardian of Oblivion, one of A’aru’s monarchs. I am like a gardener who prunes the branches of a dry tree… those memories I cut disappear and do not grow back.”
“Your Majesty, please forgive my insolence, but I’m begging you to reconsider Alderian’s punishment.”
“There is no need to be reverent with me. After all, we are not too different, but you are not yet ready to claim your place. Allow Alderian to buy time for you. He agreed to this without complaint. The fact is, if they discover you now, not even I can prevent your ultimate death.”
“But I can’t do that. How could I buy time at the expense of the person I love—?” She cut herself off, stunned, realizing she’d just shattered the ultimate taboo.
“Tomorrow you must act with total normalcy,” the Guardian continued, brushing off Augustine’s revelation.
“Alderian has played his part well. After his performance in today’s duel, no one will question that the anomaly comes from him.
So tomorrow you must behave as if my Oblivion had affected you, just as you did the last time. ”
Augustine’s eyes widened. “You knew? That the Oblivion didn’t affect me before?”
“How could I not know? That was the ultimate sign that your parents’ legacy is taking root within you.
You are one of the Descendants, after all.
But that legacy is still an immature and incomplete power.
You must cultivate it. You do not remember, but you have the right to a seat on the High Council.
That is your heritage. However, no one remembers your bloodline but me.
And if you do not claim your throne, no one is going to hand it to you.
To claim it, you must stay alive… stay alive and wake up. ”
Her breath was shallow. The information she was taking in was way beyond her. She took a few deep breaths to get a grip, which took a minute.
“I knew there was something off about me,” she finally said. “I always knew, even before I started seeing the spiritual world and the Thread that connects us. I knew it, and I owned it… I thought it was just a flaw I had to fix, that I just had to push myself to fit in.”
He listened to her in silence, locked onto her every word.
“But being in the middle of a political war I don’t even understand is more than I can process from my humble human understanding,” she continued. “To me, right now, what you’re saying is irrelevant. In my human selfishness, I only care about one person.”
“Your awakening will bring back a lost and forgotten power, child. It is not irrelevant; it is transcendental,” the Guardian reprimanded her.
“It’s just that where you see a nine, I see a six.
We’re looking at the same thing, but it is a matter of perspective.
I know you’re an ancient being and that from where you sit, I’m completely wrong, but I hope you can understand that from where I am standing, this is the only reality. I can only look at Alderian.”
His gaze suddenly softened. “Even now, as a human, you bear an incredible resemblance to your mother…”
Those words hit her like a dagger. Augustine felt a sudden, urgent realization that she’d blanked on something massive—something that under no circumstances should be forgotten.
“I hope one day to tell you about your parents. Both were Sovereign Guardians of A’aru, and they left us a long time ago,” he said with regret. “But now, it is your duty to awaken and assume your responsibility. Lethe has already ordered it, though you cannot remember it now.”
“If I awaken,” she hesitated. “If I do, will I be able to reach Alderian?”
“And you must. Alderian is critical too.”
Augustine nodded thoughtfully. “But how do I do it? I don’t even know what I’m supposed to do.”
“The awakening of a Sovereign Guardian is a personal journey. No two awakenings are the same. Follow your instincts and, above all, live,” the Guardian of Oblivion requested before disappearing into the darkness.