Chapter 2 #4
I needed Rhyan. I needed Rhyan.
“Lyriana, listen to me, and listen carefully. I see where your mind is going. And I know, because mine has done the same in the past. You need to stop. Right now. It wasn’t your fault.
You didn’t do this to him,” Auriel said.
“None of what happened last night was your fault. Nor anything that happened before. My memories are hazy, but this I remember. I saw it all. I saw what it was like between you two. I saw what happened in the arena. And I swear to you, I know you did everything you could, I know you pushed yourself beyond your limits. And, I know he knows that, too. I promise.”
“But I didn’t. I didn’t. I could have made better choices. I could have been faster. I could have—”
“He remembered,” Auriel said, suddenly looking distant.
“He’s been so connected to me these last few months—more than any of my other incarnations.
After he learned the truth of who he was, it was like a bridge opened between us.
He remembered the pain. Our pain. My pain.
What it was like to lose you. To lose Asherah.
Even after all of this time, it doesn’t go away.
The memories. The hurt. They … leave a scar on your soul.
And you were in danger, so he did what he had to do to save you.
To stop the threat. If you could talk to him now, he would tell you the same thing.
He would tell you he’d save you again, knowing the outcome, knowing what would happen—he’d still do it.
Still save you. Every single time. If he could, he’d tell you he has no regrets. ”
“But he can’t tell me. Not anymore. He’s …
” Not alive. Not dead either. “He’s …” My throat dried, my hands shaking.
“He’s akadim,” I said, finally looking up.
The word was like acid in my mouth, every syllable burned as I said it.
I could taste it, feel it crawling over my tongue.
I wanted to vomit. Akadim. Akadim. “He is. Isn’t he?
I saw it happen. Saw his soul being eaten.
” A weight settled over me, crushing me.
“Surely, by now the transformation’s complete. ”
The muscles in Auriel’s jaw flexed. “He is.”
More tears fell. “How long?” I asked. “How long has he been akadim? How long have I been asleep?”
Auriel coughed. “It’s been a few hours. I think that …
the shock of seeing me didn’t help. And you had overused your magic, your Rakashonim.
It made you pass out. It was too much. The magic is delicate, but volatile on its own.
And it had been called on too many times.
You had no more power in you by then, no energy left.
After I reached you, you simply fell over. ”
“I hardly have any energy now.” I barely even felt like I could stand. I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t … don’t care. I wish I’d gone with him,” I said, my voice a whisper.
“No,” Auriel said. “No, you don’t. And don’t you ever say that again.
However much you love him, he loves you more.
I would know. I felt it. I still feel it.
” He pressed a fist to his heart. “He wouldn’t want that for you.
Everything he did, every choice Rhyan made in his life was to protect you.
You must believe me.” His eyes fell to my hands again.
“Now enough of this. Fight me if you have to. Insult me. Hit me. I don’t care.
But I’m not sitting idly by and watching you bleed.
Whether you like it or not, I’m cleaning up your hand. ”
I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling so fucking weak. I wanted to fight, and yet, there was no more fight inside of me. “Do what you will to me,” I said. “I don’t care.”
“Well, luckily for you, I do. Don’t move.”
I lifted my head higher, numbness seeping through me, as Auriel held his cloak out of the cave, letting it collect rain. Thunder clapped in the distance. Lightning illuminated his body from behind. His hair seemed like it had curled even more from the humidity—just like Rhyan’s did.
When he decided that his cloak was sufficiently wet, he returned to me, kneeling at my feet, and gently washed the blood from my knuckles before going into his belt and miraculously pulling out a sunleaf.
He popped it into his mouth, chewing until it was paste—his eyes on mine the whole time, as if daring me to rebel, challenging me to refuse him.
Then he spat out the leaf, now cured, into his palm, and gently rubbed it onto my skin.
I’d barely been aware of the sting, of the pain, even as he washed my skin. But the relief I felt was instantly palpable.
I stared at the floor, at the blanket he’d scrounged up, and at the small piece of cloth he’d ripped from this cloak to bandage my hand.
When he was done, he sat across from me, his back to the wall.
A long silence passed between us. Our breaths mingled with the sound of the rain, the crackling of the fires, and tinkle of water dripping into the cave.
“What are you thinking?” he asked.
“I have to kill him,” I said, my voice empty. The truth that had been buried in the back of my mind, the one I’d screwed tight in a box, because I never wanted to open it. “I have to find him. Don’t I? And kill him.”
“No,” Auriel said, his eyes full of alarm. “Lyriana, no. You can’t do that.”
I shrugged. “Maybe I can’t. I might not be strong enough.
” Akadim had the strength of five soturi.
Even the weakest and smallest ones could overpower you.
Coming across an akadim who hadn’t trained in combat was still a near-impossible kill to make.
But taking on Rhyan as an akadim? Rhyan was the strongest warrior in the Empire.
And he knew all of my moves, my weaknesses, my tells.
He’d trained me himself. Fighting him was going to be like taking on a small army.
“He’ll be impossibly strong. He might even be the strongest akadim that ever existed. ”
“That’s not what I meant,” Auriel said. “I meant—” He frowned. “I … Realms.” He squinted, like he was in pain and shook his head. He’d lost his train of thought—his memories really weren’t accessible to him now.
“It doesn’t matter if I’m strong enough.
Or ready. I never will be. But I still have to try.
” I sniffled. “For him.” A fresh bout of pain washed over me, like a wet blanket sinking into my heart, weighing it down.
“Because I can’t allow it. Can’t allow him to live like this.
Do you understand how horrible this fate is for Rhyan?
What being an akadim will do to him? The part of him that was him?
Alive? He could be hurting people. Killing them.
Or—” By the Gods. I couldn’t fathom where my mind was going next.
Because Rhyan was always so careful with me, so concerned with making sure I was okay every step of the way when we were together.
Whether it was our bodies joining, or him healing me, or training me.
He never did anything I didn’t want him to—that I wasn’t comfortable with, or ready for.
That I didn’t say yes to.
The idea of Rhyan not taking those things into account— not caring, the idea of Rhyan fully acting like an akadim, Rhyan doing what akadim did … I couldn’t even form the word for what it was. Couldn’t put Rhyan and that into the same sentence.
My stomach twisted violently, and I leaned over the blanket, throwing up all over the floor. Bile burned my throat as I heaved again and again.
Auriel rushed to his feet and moved behind me, collecting my hair in one hand, and rubbing my neck with the other. He really was trying to take care of me. Trying to soothe me. Like Rhyan would have.
Fresh tears fell down my face. “I just can’t let him be like this.
Being an akadim would have been his worst nightmare.
He’s too gentle for this life. He cares for people too much.
” I shook my head, “He won’t always show it, but he does.
He can’t stand the thought of hurting someone.
Especially someone innocent. He can’t even stand to let people down.
When he thinks he’s failed someone—even when things were clearly out of his control, even when he did everything he could, even if he did everything right, the way he beats himself up—” I froze “Beat-past tense. He … No. No. I can’t let him be like this. I can’t allow him to be a monster.”
“Maybe he doesn’t have to be one,” Auriel said.
“I don’t think either of us are getting a choice in the matter anymore.” I wiped my mouth, and spat, leaning away from Auriel’s touch. Then I rose to my feet. “I have to go,” I said.
“Go? Go where?”
“Numeria. The capital. That’s where Rhyan was when he turned. He might still be there. If he’s not, he won’t be far.”
“You can’t leave,” Auriel said. “Not now. Not yet. You’re still drained, your magic depleted. And the rain out there …” He shook his head. “You need to wait.”
“I already waited,” I said, my body at the edge of the cave.
“Too long.”
Auriel took my hand again, and led me back to the blanket. “Please. Just wait a little longer. Until the sun rises. Or at least, wait until the rain stops. Recover your strength, then we’ll figure it out.”
I wrapped my arms around myself, listening to the rainfall, the truth of it all weighing me down.
When I’d made my choice earlier tonight, I’d bet on the fact that I’d reach Rhyan before he was stripped.
Before it was too late. I’d bet that I had enough magic power on reserve to get to him, to fight my way to his side.
I thought that if I combined the magic of the red light inside my chest together with the shield containing the orange shard—Ereshya’s shard—I could do it.
I’d have enough light from the Valalumir supporting me.
And I would call on Rakashonim, embody the full power and magic of Asherah, take on all of the strength of my past self, and fight my way to him. Save him.
I’d given everything I had. Risked everything else I could.
Everything. But it hadn’t been enough.
I hadn’t been enough. I’d been too slow. Too weak. Too late.
I’d failed. Failed him when he needed me most.
I never should have gone after the orange shard, never should have tried to steal the shield.
I should have used what I had—relied on my own strength.
My own fury and love. I should have gone straight to him.
Even if I’d lost limbs it wouldn’t have mattered.
I could have reached him first. Before he was stripped. Before the akadim came.
That Godsdamned fucking shield. I was so sure I needed it.
Needed to let its ancient power surge through me.
And in the end—all I’d done is trade it back to Morgana.
Given her another damn shard of the Valalumir.
Traded for Rhyan’s life so I could escape the damn Throne Room.
The room Morgana had blockaded with akadim.
And then, my enemy, my sister, Aemon’s lover—Moriel’s lover—betrayed me again.
Because it was their fucking akadim, their monsters, who’d taken my love.
And I hadn’t returned to the inn for my family and friends as I’d promised. They didn’t know yet what had happened. Not to me. Not to Rhyan. Nor the orange shard that we’d been trying for a month to steal.
And even worse, now, there was a small army of newly formed akadim hunting in Lumeria. Rhyan amongst them. Akadim unlike any I’d seen before. Akadim who could walk in the day.
It was becoming increasingly clear what had to happen next. My friends, and my family had to be kept safe. Protected. Not just from the Empire. But from Rhyan.
I’d have to return to Numeria. I’d have to hunt akadim. Hunt down the man I loved.
Because even if killing him would destroy me, even if I lost my life doing so, it was better than the alternative. Better than letting his demon-self destroy whatever remained of his soul, and all that remained of his memories—all that remained of us.
I didn’t know now if any of his soul remained or existed in any form.
I didn’t know what happened to a soul after it was eaten.
I didn’t know how this worked. He was Auriel.
But Auriel wasn’t him. Thinking about it was too confusing.
But if there was any chance that Rhyan wasn’t completely gone, that some part of his soul survived, even a mere slither of the light that Rhyan once was—I wouldn’t let it be tarnished. Not while I still had strength.
Memories weren’t enough. None of this was enough.
I disavowed this life. This fate. And I was fully ready to release every deal, promise, oath, and duty that had ever been thrust upon me.
Everything I had ever agreed upon, or sworn to, was now void.
None of it mattered anymore. Not my hopes, my dreams. Not my future. Not when Rhyan was gone.
But, I could do this. I could do this much for him. For my lover, my best friend, my partner, my soulmate.
My Rakame.
I would wait a little. But only a little. Just enough to recover my strength, enough to move forward. And then I’d go. Myself. There would be no “we” as far as Auriel was concerned.
I knew what I had to do. Kill the akadim Rhyan, stop the threat it posed to his soul, stop him from doing further harm—save anyone who might come across him now. Save everyone else we loved.
I stood again, returning to the cave’s threshold, my body taut, and ready, the rain pouring down beside me.
If I couldn’t save Rhyan’s life, if I couldn’t heal him, couldn’t restore his soul, or have him back, then I could honor his memory.
I would slay him.