by Ali Winters
He had always feared the others, but never her. Too late did he realize that he’d had them all wrong. The faces they showed to him, made him believe, were the opposite. The innocence was a mask she wore to hide her beautifully scared face, to hide the talons she bore.
She stopped less than a foot before him and tilted her head back to meet his gaze. He towered over her, but it was all he could do not to quake before her. She reached up and stroked a finger down his cheek. Her illusion further shattered. Though her hand appeared bone thin and youthful, the sharp claw beneath scraped down his skin.
But it was Clotho who spoke next. “The Watcher must become a Dark Guardian.” His spine went rigid. It seemed an impossible task, impossible in practice, impossible for his heart to allow. “The chalices, both are needed. One to strengthen, the other to change.”
Atropos slid closer, nearly embracing him, her lips parting in a smile he had never seen, and showing teeth sharpened into points. “Dissension will form between the light and dark. One to rise, the other to fall.”
Yes, dissension. War. It would come, the consequence to his actions, but he could not let the Dark Guardians fall—it must be the Watchers.
He could limit his own, hold them back and make the Watchers obsolete. If he failed, the balance would be irreparable, for Yeva and her kind were not capable of keeping the balance of death.
Atropos leaned forward, making contact with him as her body pressed against his. Silas closed his eyes and held in a shudder. On the outside it would appear that she was fond of him, but the reality was far more. She was a predator, the only kind to exist that could destroy him with little more than a thought. He knew she could taste his fear, and that she enjoyed it.
She pushed up on her toes, bringing her mouth to his ear, her cold breath brushing along his skin. “When the time is right, you must transfer the power to your successor,” she whispered, as if the other two Moirai couldn’t hear.
Silas balked. “M-my successor?”
“The one to replace you when you are gone, as one shall replace Yeva.” Atropos tilted her head to the side, a degree more than what was natural.
“I am immortal,” he said flatly.
Atropos snickered, the girlish front back in place. “Immortal? Yes. Indestructible? No.”
Clotho smiled sadly, looking at him as though he were a young and foolish mortal who knew nothing about the world besides his own hopes and dreams. And perhaps he didn’t. “A fate must come to pass,” was all she said.
“Kneel,” Atropos commanded.
He obliged.
It was as he feared. He must take Nivian from Yeva, betray her against his will and against his heart and soul, and bring a war upon them all. A dissension between Guardians and Watchers could potentially spell disaster for the world. They did not have to warn him. Nothing was guaranteed. He knew that. It was the reason they called for him. The reason they tasked him with this duty.
Silas closed his eyes as Atropos placed her hand upon his head. The sharp points of her talons pressing uncomfortably into his flesh. He could feel them boring into him, probing around in his mind. Though he knew it was only her powers reaching within, it felt real. The points scraped down his thoughts, his spine, and clamped around his heart. His lungs shuddered as she squeezed, planting a seed of ice, deep inside his soul.
“End her as she is, and fetch her from the depths of the Underworld,” Atropos commanded inside his mind. “Tell him only that we sent you. Nothing more.”
He tried to open his eyes, but white light blinded him even through his closed lids. When he finally managed to open them again, he was standing in the room with the stairwell leading to the corner of the realms.
He glared down the spiral stairs. He asked for nothing, yet fate would take everything from him. The one thing that made his existence worthwhile. He roared, waving a hand across the room. The stairs crumbled into dust, leaving a gaping maw into the black void. Stone built upon itself, covering all evidence it had ever existed and leaving the room to appear as nothing more than an alcove.
He spun on his heel, storming back through the tunnel and up the stairs to the office at the highest point of G.R.I.M.
Silas crossed the room to the desk and let himself collapse into the chair. He pressed a fist to his chest and waited until the ache of his heart dulled before standing again.
Taking the Eye of the tome from his pocket, Silas held it in his open palm. Light glinted off the smooth surface, winking up at him. Carefully, he placed it back into the setting on the front cover.
It flashed as it sealed itself into place.
Silas reached for his gold-tipped quill and a piece of parchment, then opened the tome.
“Give me a mark,” he ordered.
Letters formed, swirls of golden light danced wildly. When it stopped, a name etched in black and gold was sprawled across the page. Silas dipped the pen in the ink, and copied it onto the paper.
It was done.
He had started the process the Moirai demanded of him, and there would be no going back now. Within a week’s time, everything would be different.
Nivian’s fate—their fate—was sealed.
YEVA
YEVA WANDERED THE forest, making her way over tangled roots and sliding under sagging branches. The leaves were already beginning to turn. She hated this part, watching the leaves fall and the beauty of spring and summer retreat into hibernation. She was at her weakest. And though she could do nothing to slow or stop it, she beckoned the foliage to turn into fiery reds and golds as they died, rather than turning brown and rotting.
She put a hand to her mouth and called, “Silas?”
Then she waited.
A long moment passed with nothing but the cooling autumn breeze kicking up the leaves at her feet. She frowned.
It had been days since she’d last seen him, and even that meeting had been cut short. She missed him more than she thought possible. Even despite the knot of unease forming in her chest.
The last time they’d spent any significant time together, he had created another Dark Guardian. Had he been back in Mophar creating even more than she knew? Had he drained his powers to the point that he needed to stay there?
Yeva wrapped her arms around herself. She couldn’t even remember the last time she had needed to create a Watcher to even the balance. It always seemed to be Silas’s Guardians who expanded their numbers.
Why would the balance lean so far in his direction, giving him so much more power, and by default, weakening her and her creations?
She leaned back against a tree, tucking her hands in at the small of her back, and lifted her chin to watch the remaining leaves sway, their music filling the forest.
After a while, when Silas still had not shown, Yeva pushed off and walked away, leaving the forest behind. Melancholy wrapped itself around her heart. Her eyes trailed the ground as she walked until the chill of power brushed over her.
Yeva’s head snapped up.
On the top of the hill, a dark figure stood. She raised her hand to call out only to have his name die upon her lips. She followed his gaze toward one of her Watchers returning from a patrol in town.
Yeva listed her head to the side and watched him, so focused on the girl he missed Yeva completely. Her nostrils flared as she huffed out a breath. He never took such interest in any of her Watchers. The fact that he observed one so closely now set her on edge.
The only reason a Guardian watched anyone was to prepare for their reaping. Yeva clutched her hands to her stomach in an attempt to quell the ache that formed. Unless… this was a play for power. It was the only thing she could think of that could explain his actions, the only thing that made sense.
She shook her head not wanting to believe this had been his goal all along. To have so many Guardians that he could overpower her Watchers without consequence.
Her heart thundered against its cage, her palms grew sweaty.
“What are you up to, Silas?” she murm
ured.
Silas had always been straight forward with her, never hiding a single thought. If he suspected something that involved her Watchers, he spoke to her and they talked it out. Sneaking around like this was far out of character for him. His stalking Nivian made her nervous.
Whatever was truly going on, she needed to take action. She needed to learn what she could of the Dark Guardians so she could protect her Watchers. She would not let Silas have his way. After all, she, too, was tasked with keeping the balance. She would not let him—
Yeva stepped back, pressing a clammy hand over her forehead. “Stop this, stop this.”
She had no reason to mistrust him, no reason to feel as she did. The ugly emotion wending its way through her made her want to retch. It was unnervingly unfamiliar, and yet it found its way into her heart far too easily.
She loved him. And he loved her. That was all she needed to tell herself.
And yet… the idea of studying the Dark Guardians clung to the edges of her thoughts. It was an interesting concept. More than likely, Silas was only curious about the Watchers, wanting to study them. So it made sense, her curiosity. Perhaps she, too, could study them and come to a better understanding. One that could bring the two sides closer together.
Yeva turned away from Silas, though she ached to be near him. He would come to her when he was ready.
She walked along the path to the village, pushing thoughts of agendas and secrets far from her mind.
“Your Grace,” Jack’s voice pulled her back from her escape.
She blinked at him as he bowed.
“Your Grace,” Taliha echoed, bowing low. The blonde was always at his side.
Though Kain was her Second, these two were her most prized Watchers. Strong and loyal. Always wanting to do more, to be more, to make sure the balance was perfect. Taliha had the long blonde hair she’d inherited from her father, pulled back into a braid and tied with a leather cord.
Yeva basked in their show of reverence. “Hello, my dears. I am glad to see you this morning.”
“As we are to see you,” Taliha purred. The girl’s eyes were a deep emerald green, identical to her own, and when the sun hit her irises, they glittered with her fiery determination.
“Tell me, have either of you seen any of the Dark Guardians around?” Yeva asked, trying to sound casual. She hoped they couldn't hear the strain of her nerves.
The two of them looked at each other, brows furrowed in matching expressions of confusion.
“No, my Grace,” Jack answered slowly. “May we help you with something?”
Yeva felt the corner of her mouth tick upward. He was smart—smarter than the others gave him credit for. Enough to know that she was in need of assistance. Always so attentive.
“Yes, in fact, I do.” She moved closer so she could speak in hushed tones. “I need to study a Guardian. To learn how they work. The others would not understand. I would like you two to bring me one. Alive.”
Taliha sucked in a breath. “Not to destroy it?”
Capturing Guardians was not something any of her Watchers had done before. It would present them with a challenge, but she was sure they were up to it.
Yeva pulled back slightly, eyes wide. “Oh, no. I wish to speak with it. I think it important for us to know how they work so we might foster a more open relationship between our groups. Who knows, we might do away with having to destroy them when they go rogue if we can spot the early warning signs.”
The two Watchers bowed deeply. “Yes, Your Grace, you are right,” they said in unison.
Yeva smiled. Yes. A better understanding of the Guardians would help them all. Then, maybe, whatever Silas had planned, she could help with. He would not have to take on more than his share of power.
The Dark Guardian looked at Yeva with wide eyes. She was clearly a weak little thing, not possessing much intelligence. She was careless not to have even the slightest hint of distrust when two Watchers led her to a domicile impossible to transport in or out of. Given the tentative trust between the groups. Not that she planned on breaking the truce.
“Do not be frightened, my dear,” Yeva crooned, taking several steps closer until the Reaper took a step back, bumping into Jack and Taliha.
“What do you want with me?” her voice shook. Now she showed fear.
“Only to talk.” Yeva motioned to the table across the room. “Please, have a seat.”
But the dark blonde Reaper stayed rooted to the spot.
Yeva sighed inwardly. There were too many people in the room. She would learn nothing about these Guardians if this one couldn’t get comfortable enough to trust her. Yeva looked to her Watchers and dismissed them with the slightest jerk of her chin.
The Dark Guardian looked over her shoulder, watching them leave. Jack only sent Yeva a questioning glance, as if to ask, “Are you sure?”
Yeva ignored him and his unnecessary concern. The surprise written on the Guardian’s face and the slight stumble she made as she took a step closer to the wall at her back didn’t escape Yeva’s notice.
When they were alone, Yeva cleared her throat and asked, “What do they call you?”
Eyes the color of deep mahogany met hers. “Jewel,” she said meekly.
Once more, Yeva motioned to the table, and, this time, Jewel obliged, taking the seat closest to the door. Yeva took up the opposite end, leaving just enough space so the girl wouldn’t feel powerless. Of course, she could be four times as far and Yeva could end her with very little effort if she chose.
“With all due respect, what could you want with me?” Jewel clutched her pale hands in her lap.
Yeva folded her hands atop the table. “I want to learn how you work. You see, there has been tension between your kind and ours for far too long. My wish is to better understand your part in protecting the balance so we can all work together to make it easier—to make true peace possible.”
Jewel was silent for several minutes. “That is a worthy cause, but…” she hesitated. “Why not speak to Silas instead? I’m sure he—”
“He is busy,” Yeva cut in, “and this way I can do my part without burdening him.” She could see her words flittering through the Guardian’s mind. Slowly. But she maintained her smile and gave her time to mull it over. “Do you think you could tell me what he has been up to? I would dearly love to help him.”
Jewel dipped her chin, frowning, then shook her head. Yeva could nearly taste the uncertainty, the fear rolling offer her. Bitter.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know. He would not tell someone as unimportant as me. Caspian might be better suited to help you.”
Yeva sat a little straighter then waved. “Do not be silly, child. You are more than capable of helping me in other ways.” She reached a hand across the table, not expecting Jewel to take it. And she didn’t.
“I-I’m not sure what I can do to help you,” Jewel said at last. Her eyes flicked toward the door, lingering.
A knowing smile spread across Yeva’s lips. “You felt something, didn’t you?”
Jewel’s head snapped up and she finally met her gaze. “What do you mean?”
“With Jack,” Yeva clarified. “I saw your reaction when you met his eye.” Red blossomed across her face, and Yeva knew her suspicions were correct. “You see, a Dark Guardian’s opposite is a Watcher. Each of us have a match—Someone who complements them, strengthens them where they are weak. You so happen to be his.”
“I’ve never heard such a thing,” Jewel muttered.
Yeva nodded. “Because it is such a rare thing to find your other half, and it must happen by chance. We cannot go looking. Gaia will connect those who need it most.” If she were being honest, she had no way of knowing if that last part were true, but she needed the Guardian to trust her, to want to help. Such a small lie for something greater to come about. “With your help, more and more will be able to find their matches, and it will strengthen us all. We can have a Utopia.” Yeva stood and knelt at her side, placing her hand o
ver the Guardian’s.
An uncertain, yet hopeful smile spread across Jewel’s features. “Okay, I will help. What do you need from me?”
That had been far easier than Yeva had expected. So little resistance given the mistrust that lay between them. Yeva wondered if it was the promise of her match that made it so easy, or if she was just that pathetic. When she’d first ordered Jack and Taliha to find her a Guardian, she had no idea such a wondrous thing would occur.
Yeva pushed to her feet. “If you would, lie upon the table so I may scan your power. If I can locate the part of you that connects with Jack, then I can help the others along. They would not need to search for their opposite, but I could arrange it to be more likely for them.”
Jewel nodded happily and climbed atop the table. Her ashy blonde hair fanned out around her head as she closed her eyes.
Yeva stood at her head, sending one last glance toward the door, then placed her hand on the girl’s head and sent her power out and down into the Dark Guardian.
She marveled in the strange feel of the cold magic surrounding hers. It was far more intense than the times when Silas’s powers mingled with her own. She pulled in a breath and sent more magic into the Guardian, letting it tunnel through the darkness.
Jewel shifted, uncomfortable, and let out a soft groan. Yeva pressed more of her powers down, straining with the effort.
Jewel’s eyes snapped open. Yeva frowned down. She could stop, release her… but she was so close to finding out what made her tick. So close to understanding what a Guardian was made of.
“Just a little longer,” she murmured, then pressed forward with the full strength of her magic, unraveling the Guardian’s power, following each thread closer and closer to the source.
She was moving into dangerous territory. It was a risk, but one she was willing to take.
Then, her powers found it. A dark orb, cold as ice. Yeva’s power surrounded it. The core turned ashen, and started to crumble. Panicked, Yeva sent more of her powers to surround it, trying to hold it together. But the harder she tried, the more it crumbled.
