Chapter 50
Chapter Fifty
Seeing Augustine flee in terror was a bucket of cold reality he hadn’t expected.
Alderian had assumed Lethe’s Oblivion had taken hold, but a tiny part of him had hoped that Augustine—only her—might somehow be the exception.
Nothing had prepared him for those terrified eyes, looking at him as if he were an actual demon.
Cruel Augustine; even in the innocence of her oblivion, she could crush his soul with her bare hands.
She didn’t remember him, but it was worse than that… she couldn’t see the Silver Thread anymore.
Had the anomaly been restored? Had Lethe pulled off what the Guardian of Oblivion couldn’t?
He closed his eyes, too distraught to even think straight. He had to get her back to her human body, even if there was no “after” for them once she returned. The problem was that he didn’t know how.
He suddenly felt her warm touch on his cheek.
He opened his eyes and saw her face so close that he felt an instant urge to kiss her.
All he had to do was reach out, grab her by the waist, and never let go.
But he had to be careful. She was pushing past her own fears and barriers to approach the unknown. One wrong move, and she’d bolt again.
His heart pounded violently, as vigorous as his longing for his woman. It wasn’t the reunion he’d pictured so many times while they were apart, but feeling her curious gaze on him eased the pain. At least she was curious about him. That was already something.
The kiss caught him off guard. Her soft lips on his, and all composure vanished. He grabbed her, one hand on her lower back and the other on her neck, deepening the kiss she’d started. He knew she didn’t remember him. It wasn’t right, and yet, it was inevitable.
Augustine responded deliciously to his intensity, relaxing her body under his touch. Alderian stroked her back and her firm hips with a resolve fueled by desperation. He broke the kiss only because he needed to see her eyes.
Had she remembered something? Or was this surrender an illusion of a past that would never return?
“Do you remember me, my love?”
His question was almost a plea.
Augustine shook her head. Alderian kissed her forehead, stroking her hair, hiding how shattered he felt inside.
“I don’t remember you,” she said. “But I love you… even if it makes no sense.”
Alderian grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her back just enough to scan her face. “What did you just say?”
“I said I love you… is it because you’ve enchanted me?”
Alderian smiled softly and kissed her again, this time with pure tenderness.
“I wish I could enchant you, love. You’d be a lot more docile that way… didn’t I tell you to watch out for yourself? How did you end up here?”
Augustine sought refuge in his embrace, and Alderian knew that not everything was lost. As long as she let him stay by her side, as long as she didn’t push him away…
* * *
“Explain yourself, Prometius.”
The formidable warrior was kneeling in the middle of the High Council chamber, his head bowed in a sign of absolute respect. An internal rage invaded him as he remembered he had been on the verge of voluntarily humbling himself with that same gesture before Alderian.
“The prisoner has escaped, my Lord,” he replied to the Guardian of Order, who was looking at him coldly.
“That part of the news has already reached me. Could you give us more details? Explain to me how a prisoner walked out with no one trying to stop him.”
He didn’t want to test the Sovereign’s patience and was brutally honest. “My Lord, Alderian is no ordinary prisoner. He has a kind of… authority. A command that is difficult to resist. It is very similar to what your humble servant feels when a Sovereign Guardian gives an unrestricted order.”
The Guardian of Order stood up, scandalized. “What are you saying? That sounds very much like treason coming from the mouth of our General.”
“Your Excellency, what I say is not trivial. It is the reason I could not stop him. He showed the monstrous aspect he displayed in the duel. Without a doubt, there is something very dangerous about him.”
The Guardian of Order descended from his seat and advanced toward Prometius. “We are three powers in A’aru, General. Do not forget it. Do not repeat what you have said in this room again.”
The warrior nodded in silence, though a thread of doubt persisted within him.
“Where did he go? Could anyone see in which direction he departed?”
“We did not see it, my Lord, but I presume he set out for his palace, where the human was left this morning,” Prometius reported, keeping his voice carefully measured.
“What do you intend to do, Guardian of Order?” the Guardian of Oblivion interjected. “Extracting a spirit so violently is not your usual style. You aren’t breaking any rules, but it seems an awkward solution to the problem these two pose for us.”
“That human is insolent. She wanted to come to A’aru, who knows for what.
I noticed she exerts a certain influence over the Shadows.
Yesterday we had a sighting beyond all logic, and witnesses testified the Shadows retreated around the perimeter where she was.
It cannot be a coincidence, considering what happened during the Breach.
I am not interested in whether Your Excellency finds it an elegant style; I am only fulfilling my responsibility, and that sovereignty is not to be questioned. My sovereignty, my decision.”
“I understand the logic of the Guardian of Order,” the Guardian of the Threads intervened after a few minutes of tense silence.
She was sitting in her magnificent seat with her arms and legs crossed.
“Her facing the Oblivion of Lethe is the most direct way to suppress an anomaly. We cannot do the same with Alderian, and that is a problem. We should not continue to postpone his judgment. After all, he has killed a human and an A’aruin.
He deserves exemplary punishment, and now that his human is about to die, we must decide if we interrupt their incarnation cycles and return them to Lethe. ”
Return them to Lethe. A synonym for a death sentence.
Prometius listened to the conversation, pretending to be just another piece of furniture in the room, aware that he was overhearing a delicate discussion. He felt angry with himself for having the impulse to warn Alderian of the danger he was in.
What cursed power had he exercised over him?