The room was shrouded in darkness, a canvas of shadows painted by the faint moonlight seeping through the dark clouds. The silence of the night was suddenly broken by a sharp gasp, followed by the rustling sheet. I turned to the side, where Andrea sat upright, her breath coming in quick, shallow bursts.
“Another nightmare?” I asked, my voice soft, but filled with concern as I reached out to place a comforting hand on her shoulder. Andrea nodded, her face buried in her hands.
I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her close. “It’s okay, I’m here,” I whispered, as the echo of her distress slowly faded into the stillness of the night.
“I didn’t mean to wake you,” she mumbled, her voice slowly steading.
“I know,” I said, kissing her forehead. I had no idea what would be a better way of helping her. “Do you want to talk about it?”
She hesitated, the no on the tip of her tongue. But then -for the first time ever- she nodded. And told me just about everything -her trip to Casscairn and her rather disturbing meeting with whomever took over Jasce’s corpse. And I would be lying claiming it didn’t pissed me off. I fully realised all her claims about immortality, but her being so close to something potentially very deadly just didn’t sit well with me.
And her nightmare brought a whole new set of discomfort and fears. The forest labyrinth led her to a moonlit clearing, with Alryne's tower casting a frightening silhouette, I was sure of it. It was an isolated place, unreachable in her dreams. The scene completed with the monsters we had to face, only this time her rescue didn’t come. I felt terribly guilty about the next part, my own body, on the ground, because I needed her to save me. And when she was close enough, her nightmare changed again. Brought back up the same blue eyes, the monsters had. And Jasce with a promise he’d find her again.
It was a clear indication -all of this was focused on her, exclusively. And I had no fucking clue how to stop it or keep her save. I’d give anything to keep her here, in my arms, for the rest of -whatever time I had left.
I listened to everything she wanted to share. My brow furrowed in thought a couple times, but I stayed silent, contemplating.
“Runes fell out of favour due to their complexity,” I mused, a question hanging in the air.
“I mean…” she frowned in confusement. “Yeah, the rise of Academy simplified magic, leaving the nuanced power of runes behind,” she explained. I felt the weight of lost knowledge in her voice -though it's lost for everyone but the Heirs. And quite likely someone else. “Why?”
“Using runes in haste is like speaking a mother tongue -it’s instinctual, not laborious, isn't it?” I suggested. I knew exactly what spells I'd use to get out of a pickle.
“Athran isn’t your first language!” her eyes lit up with pure joy. Like she just figured something big.
I shifted on the bed, looking at her with amusement. “We digress a little, but it would be a bit odd to be the only one speaking a different language at home, wouldn't it?” she joined my laughter. How did she even come up with the idea? My accent -or lack of it- mirrors her own. I was raised in the North, but not as Northern.
“You have no idea how often he repeated the -I want to raise him differently.” I wondered how often they talked about me. I suspected not often. “Just imagine the multilingual fight among the wolves in Narvin.” she chuckled.
A cigarette materialised in her hand, a habit I've chided her for. It was so annoying. “The Archives hint at a spell half a millennium old, so it would have to be someone older than me,” she pondered, my head filled with new questions.
“The list of suspects narrows,” I noted, plucking the cigarette away. I constantly admonished her for smoking -probably as the only one.
“Yeah, only… I don't think I know anyone who uses runes like that. It feels familiar. Maybe one of the three showed me,” she admitted, stretching out. My thoughts drifted to her family, the three, was her favourite label.
“Maybe someone in your family knows more,” I suggested, my voice tinged with curiosity. “The Hales aren't just you and Jonathan, right?”
“Well,” she paused, considering her words. She knew all my relatives, including the ones I've never met. I've seen all four of them on multiple occasions, but that's the problem with their ceremonies -strictly focused on the four. And they always left right after. I haven't talked to either of her uncles and until Alryne, she always seemed just like another statue in white uniform, waiting for her part to be over. The only exception really was Jonathan, who's inseparable from my father, but he always talked about contracts and unimportant, disinteresting things like history or how many new ships they're going to need. So, everything I knew about them was from books, lectures, sculptures and other depictions. And since she was nothing like that, I could only guess her uncles would be very different from their descriptions. “In a way, that's all there is left of us,” she added to my silence.
“Seriously?”
“Seriously,” she admitted with a sad smile. “Stephan has withdrawn to his pretty, little estate, shrouded in his memories and duties as the First Heir, while Damien… well, he's preoccupied with his own vices. And the others are gone.”
How can an Immortal be gone? Where do they go? And the most important question of all, “I thought Immortals couldn't die,” I said finally, after a long pause.
“Nothing's perfect.” she responded, a bitter laugh hidden in her voice. “People have so nicely built their entire faith, lives and religion on a simple premise, hoping they would join the Immortals in their world once they leave this one. But, Immortality isn't eternal. We live to die, and someday it'll inevitably backfire. It's a delicate balance, a spell that can be undone, especially by one of our own.”
But how? She’s been saying this whole time she just gets back. But that's impossible. It has to be. “I don't get it. Your body is damaged, how can you return?”
“It's a strange thing, isn't it. We are literally cheating death.” she mused. Absolutely calm. I felt my heart racing. “Some scars remain, others fade. The essence is that I'm not in the body when it fails, therefore I haven't truly died, hence the return later.”
“Later.” I repeated. Still having no idea how she got a new body. Scar or not, if there was a hole, it had to be fixed first. “How many times have you…” I couldn't finish it. It makes zero sense.
“Died?” she completed my question in a whisper. “I've lost count.” my heart stopped. For a brief second, but it did.
The picturiing of her death shattered something fundamental in me, a crack that ran deep into my very soul. Yet, here she was, breathing, living -a miracle that defied understanding. I watched her with a mix of fear and awe, the rise and fall of her chest, a rhythm that both soothed and bewildered me. How could it be that the cold grasp of death had released her? The question circled in my mind like vultures. I pushed it away, focusing instead on her. I wished she wasn't so cold all the time, so her warmth could be the undeniable proof of life. And in that moment, I allowed myself to believe in the impossible, I had to accept the gift her Immortality promised without the poison of doubt. “I've been worried about you for nothing,” I said. There was only one way I could handle all this, even if that meant ignoring the obvious.
“Why would you worry about me?” she countered. So sure of everything. “It's your life that's fleeting, that's truly frightening.”
In the quiet stillness I looked in the dark eyes, in the dim light of my bedroom darker than usual. Her beauty was staggering, from the moment I first saw her I couldn't fully comprehend. But there was more, so much more, her gentle touches accompanied with compassion left me surrounded by completely new feelings. “Because I love you,” three words filled with complexity and simplicity I never knew could exist. Our worlds are galaxies apart, I was starting to understand. I was acknowledging the danger in her world, yet I needed to cherish the love between us. I needed her.
Her silence stretched, filled with conflicting thoughts. I knew exactly what was going through her head as I placed my finger on her lips. “You think I don't know you,” I whispered, she might be right at this point. But it could hardly stop me. “But I want to, every part of you, even the shadows of your past. Whatever those might be.”
“Did they warn you about me?” she asked, half-amused by the notion.
“Both father and Emmett,” I nodded. Both unnecessary long sermons about what I should do with my life. “Luke would probably add to them, but he's not in Athran, apparently.”
“And you don't believe them?”
“Oh, I believe them,” I almost got killed the moment we left her guard behind. And that was just a start. “but I'm still here and so are you.” my smile was a promise, I wouldn't let go of her. I couldn’t. I laid back, a mountain of pillows being the only throne I would ever need. She rested her head on my chest.
“What if you don't like the real me?” the question hanged between us.
I softly laughed, I was pretty sure I knew the real her. Maybe without the tiniest details, but I didn't just fall in love with her statue. “I don't expect you to be the saviour of kittens. I'm not that naïve,” I stroked her arm. “But on the other hand, just here in the library, I have about four books that describe you as holy, saint and overall incredible, so you can't be as bad a person as you claim to be.”
“Have you read about me?” she asked, a hint of curiosity in her voice.
She made me laugh again, a playful tone underlining my words. “Who hasn't? Not that it helped in any way. You're quite the mystery, you know.” I playfully covered my face, feigned exasperation, but couldn't stop but laugh.
She offered a nonchalant shrug. “I'm an open book -if you have questions to ask. Go ahead, ask me.”
Her gaze met mine, one eyebrow quirked higher than the other one. “So… I ask, and you answer -anything?” that sounded too good to be true. Immortals were way too obsessive about their secrets and privacy.
She hesitated, biting her lip. “Almost anything. Some secrets are not my alone to share.” she admitted. It was very reasonable, I suspected a lot of things concerning her would lead to the other three Heirs. “But I promise to be as open as I can.”
I extended my hand, and we shook on it -a pact between us. “Deal,” I said with a smile. With the premise of her being honest, I've most probably just sealed the greatest deal of my life.
We settled into a comfortable silence, my gaze on the ceiling, while she admired the mountain silhouette against the night sky. Arlintanga's beauty never ceased to amaze me.
I've been thinking about all the topics, her powers, her view of the world. But there has always been a single question no one could answer for me. “What about your mother?”
The question surprised her, her muscles tensed. “What about her?” she replied, trying to keep her voice steady.
“Don't you miss her?” I was trying be as gentle as possible, but at the same time I saw no point dancing around it. Aeli’neth’s statues are everywhere, she’s being mentioned all the time, but never from her daughter.
She unwinded a strand of hair from her finger, slowly, thoughtfully. “No,” she said firmly in the end. “She was never truly a part of my family.” she left it at that. Which was on the plus side a lot more than I expected.
“But if you're keen to dive into my family history, we can visit Jim tomorrow. I need to see him anyway.”
“Alright,” I laughed a little nervously. “Who’s Jim?”
She smiled in a wicked, mischievous way. “The Second Heir, Damien, my dearest uncle… take a pic. He's.. unique in every way to say the least. But he means more to me than she ever did.”
It's the Jim. Emmett’s Jim. The man behind everything, the custodian of her family's public facade. A man who plays his role with charismatic flair. His days were a blend of duty and indulgence -according to my brother- often seen in the opulent halls of casinos where fortune dances on the turn of a card, or within the secluded luxury of his private quarters, accompanied by laughter and pleasure. Yet I’d bet, behind the youthful facade and hedonistic pursuits, there lies a mind sharpened by the ages, a witness to the ebb and flow of empire, and a heart that beats with the silent burden of eternal legacy.
“No pressure, then.”
“Don't worry.” she reassured me, laying back down to me. “Jim's fine, it'll be fine.”
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