“That’s true. Each member of our family has a star that represents them. Well, almost every member,” I added. Then I realized how strange that might sound to her.
She kept studying the sky. “I’ve heard about that. You register someone’s name and they send you a certificate telling you which star is theirs, right?”
I wanted to laugh, but her interpretation provided me a way out of the corner I’d painted myself into. “Our family members were registered before it became a popular fad.”
She tugged the blanket tighter around her. “So which star is yours?”
I moved to stand behind her, pointing over her shoulder. “Do you see Orion’s Belt? The three stars directly in front of us?” She nodded and the breeze caught her hair, causing it to brush against my chin. My body ached lecherously. Regardless of the age of my soul, my body was reacting like an eighteen-year-old. She unknowingly seduced me with every motion she made.
“Count four stars east of the last star in the belt, then three stars back, and one star diagonally south. That’s me.” I wanted to add, the empty place beside me is where you belong.
“Nathaniel, can I be honest with you?”
The desire to kiss her overwhelmed me. It felt like ten lifetimes had passed since we exchanged breath and linked souls. “I hope you’ll always be honest with me.”
“I don’t see it.”
With the sunrise moments away the sky had lightened a bit, but even in the violet dawn the stars should have been visible to her. “Did my directions confuse you?”
“They didn’t make sense. I don’t get the back and diagonal stuff.”
Simply asking my next question saddened me. I already knew the answer. “If you had to estimate, how many stars can you see surrounding us?”
She slowly spun in a circle. Her lips moved as she silently tried to count her way to a tragic answer. “I don’t know—maybe a hundred?”
Of course. She had reset her soul. She digressed back to experiencing the world through basic senses—blind to the billions of lights twinkling around us. I tried to remember my first couple lives before my senses evolved. Back when I could see only the brightest and oldest of stars, when so much of life’s beauty remained hidden from me.
“Right. Perhaps my vision is better than yours,” I replied.
She craned her head back to look at me. “Next time bring magical binoculars so I can find you.”
Carson’s glasses came to mind. She had no idea how badly I wanted to believe in magical binoculars. I stepped sideways to resist wrapping my arms around her and kissing her exposed neck.
I nodded at her hand. “That’s a beautiful ring.”
“Oh.” She looked down, spinning it around her thumb. “Louise gave it to me. She said it’s been in my family for generations.”
“Yes, it’s obviously an antique.”
Her lips twitched like she wanted to smile. “That’s my favorite thing about it. If this ring could talk, I bet it would have some amazing stories to tell.”
“I bet it would too.” If she only knew the truth behind that statement.
The last time I took her on a balloon ride—when I proposed—was one of the highlights of my prior life. True, I had asked her to marry me each and every one of our lifetimes, many with the very ring she currently wore. I enjoyed making a big to-do about it because it always made her so happy. How could things have changed so drastically?
Waves of orange and pink weaved their way through the sky. She couldn’t hear the sun’s invigorating hum or taste the salty sweet air as the first beams bid farewell to the moon. A million strands of tingling sunlight spun and weaved throughout my skin. Magic is the details, and Maryah no longer knew such details existed.
“It’s gorgeous,” she remarked, watching the sun rise over the mountains.
And it sounds, tastes, and feels incredible. How could you give it all up? “I hoped you would like it.”
“This sounds weird, but—” She squinted and looked at me. “I think I’ve been here before.”
My pulse raced but I remained quiet. The more you discussed the phenomenon as it was occurring, the more you weakened the recollection.
“Sorry, that sounded ridiculous.” She returned her barren eyes to the sunrise. “Promnesia,” I said under my breath.
“What?”
“Commonly referred to as déjà vu, it’s the soul trying to recall a place, person, or event from another life.” For years I believed reviving her memory couldn’t be done, but now, as she stood before me, her mind trying to revive itself, I begged for it to be possible.
I watched closely for her reaction. Her gaze darted across the sky then up into the blazing envelope of the balloon above us. For another brief moment, hope took over. I said a silent prayer for a spark of memory to ignite.
Light up, my love. Please remember.
She returned her focus to me, but I was gazing at a stranger.
“It’s silly, right?”
“Not silly at all,” I said.
“Have you ever had déjà vu?”
What a complicated question. I’d never experienced it because I’d never erased. Promnesia wasn’t possible for me, so I avoided answering.
“Is this your first time experiencing it?” I acted as if I expected déjà vu to be a common occurrence, which was the truth. Most souls who didn’t retain experienced it many times throughout their lives.
“I’ve had déjà vu before, but it wasn’t as strong as this.” She sounded somber as she peered over the edge of the basket. “My mother was always fascinated by déjà vu.”
Sarah—the mention of her stirred anger deep within me. She’d forsaken us when Louise and I went to her and disclosed our secret. I was only three at the time, but I comprehended more than a normal toddler. Some bits were blurry, but the emotional impact deeply infused the memory into my developing brain. Louise filled in the details when I was older.
Louise told Sarah about our kindrily and the concept of supernal soul mates. Louise entrusted her with the knowledge that we were Elements. She divulged the length of our history together and how the unthinkable occurred with Maryah. Louise even explained erasure and retainment. She begged her to move back to Sedona so Maryah and I could be raised together. The look of consternation in Sarah’s eyes as she stared at me was one thing I did remember.
She accused Louise of being insane. Then she spoke the words that robbed me of my reason for living. Don’t ever come near me or my daughter again.
Louise tried to fight for me—for us—in a peaceful and loving manner. She tried to make Sarah understand, but she lost the battle. Sarah erupted into fuming threats and we left—warned never to speak to her or to Maryah again or she would report Louise to the police for child endangerment.
Louise should have known Sarah wouldn’t be able to comprehend such an omniscient way of life, but she believed in her. Sarah wasn’t to be judged for her reaction, yet over the years I hadn’t been able to eradicate the animosity I felt.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” I said softly.
“Have you ever lost anyone you loved?”
“Yes.” I leaned closer, feeling her aura penetrate my own, like two magnets trying to connect.
Her thoughts seemed a million miles away. “Do you wonder if there was something you could’ve done to stop it? Like you should’ve been able to change how it turned out?”
Every day, I thought. Every day I wish I could go back and convince you not to erase me. I nodded.
“Does the pain ever go away?”
“No, it does not,” I replied honestly.
She sighed. “That’s what I was afraid of.”
My heart hurt for her. We’d lost so many loved ones throughout our lives together. I had built up somewhat of an emotional tolerance regarding death, but I could still remember the pain of permanently losing my first few dozen family members.
“Maryah, we can’t replace the ones you lost, but I hope you know our family
loves you dearly.”
“It’s not the same.”
“No, surely it’s not.” We loved her more than she could imagine, but in her mind, her only parents and brother had died. She needed a sympathetic friend, not a heartbroken soul mate.
“If the heartache never goes away then what’s the point?”
I moved closer, dying to hold her, but my fingers grasped her blanket instead. “The point to what?”
“Life.”
“Life is a learning process. It’s an unpredictable journey of—”
“What if I want my journey to be over?”
“You don’t mean that.” A tear ran down her cheek. I reached into my bag, removing a napkin from the supplies I packed for our picnic and dabbed her face. “I know it’s difficult for you, but—”
“You have no idea what it’s like. To lose the only people who truly loved you. To think of them constantly and wish they were here to talk to, or hug, or share an experience with. It’s gut-wrenching. Every day I’m reminded they’re never coming back. They’re gone. Forever.”
Her words burned me over and over. She was describing how I felt about her.
“I wish I would’ve died that night,” she sobbed. “I miss them so much.”
Disbelief tugged at my soul. We battled death’s incessant grip for two straight weeks so she could survive her brutal attack. All the sleepless nights, sneaking into the hospital, and the hours upon hours of draining energy from her healer, yet here Maryah was, wishing she would have died?
I reminded myself that she didn’t remember anything about how our system of life worked. The world was new to her. Life and death were new to her. “You’re only seventeen. The pain you’re feeling will diminish over time but you—”
“What? How dare you! You don’t know how I feel! You have your whole family! A mother, a father, two brothers, even your grandparents!” She had never spoken to me—yelled at me—with such cruelty. “Who have you ever lost? Do you even know what love is?”
I strained to raise my voice over the deafening sound of my heart shattering. “Of all people, how can you ask me that?”
“Ask you what?” An angry glare had replaced her tears.
“I know more about love and loss than you can comprehend.”
“Look, it sucks that your girlfriend dumped you, but don’t take it out on me. You don’t know me and I’m starting to think I don’t want to know you. Take me back to Faith!” She folded her arms across her chest and turned her back like a child throwing a tantrum.
“Take you back? To your new friends? I thought you wanted to die?”
“I do!” She stomped her foot, shaking the basket. “But no matter how hard I pray, it hasn’t happened!”
Pray? She had been praying for death? “Is your grief for your parents and your brother so overwhelming that you want to end this life? To say a final goodbye to Louise, Anthony, Faith, and all your family? Are they worth nothing to you?”
“I hardly know them! They’ll never mean more to me than my parents and brother.”
I saw red. We had known Louise and Anthony for centuries. Anthony had saved her life on numerous occasions. Louise and Faith had been there for her through so many traumas and losses. How could they mean so little to her? “So you’d choose to end it all? To say goodbye forever?”
“I would if I could,” she hissed.
People pleaded for death all the time without meaning it. We would see if that’s what she truly wanted. “So be it.”
I reached up, shutting off the burner and releasing the lever that let out a constant release of air. We rapidly descended.
She fell backward but caught herself on the edge of the basket. “What are you doing?”
I continued letting air out. The balloon fell at increasing speed. “You said you wanted to die. Far be it from me to deprive you of your wish.”
“Not like this!” she shrieked.
I stared at the Rio Grande River as we hurled closer to it, assessing how many more seconds of safe altitude we had left.
“Nathaniel, please! Don’t do this!”
My eyes met hers and I knew I had made my point. I reached up to reignite the balloon’s flame, but nothing happened. The burner wouldn’t light.
I tried again, but we continued to plummet. My heart pounded as the Rio Grande grew closer. If we hit at such high velocity we’d die on impact. I could traverse to safety, but I couldn’t take her with me.
What had I done? I would never put her in harm’s way. How could I have been so careless?
There wasn’t enough time to radio Carson and Shiloh for help. They’d be halfway to our landing site by now. I steered us away from the river as we swept over it much too closely. Maryah’s screaming was muffled by the rushing wind and the whipping balloon fabric, but I could still hear the fear in her voice, and it tore a hole through my racing heart.
I threw my arms around her and tucked her head against my chest, bracing us for impact. If I could hold onto her, keep her from being thrown from the basket, her injuries would be minimal.
Her body tensed and she tried pushing me away. “Get off me!”
“Relax as much as you can. It will hurt less.”
The wind howled louder. I held her tighter. We crashed into the ground.
Except it wasn’t so much a crash, but an abrupt halt. We hadn’t even bounced like we did on a normal landing. Maryah’s heart pounded against my chest as a waterfall of red, orange, and yellow fabric rustled to the ground and covered us.
She let out a delayed squeal as the basket tipped onto its side. The balloon fabric was peeled off us and I looked up to see Carson’s panicked eyes. That explained it. Thank the heavens for Carson and his stellar speed and strength.
Shiloh pulled up beside us in Carson’s Mustang.
“You’re a maniac!” Maryah screamed, kicking me as she crawled out of the basket. “He tried to kill us!”
Carson and Shiloh didn’t say a word.
“Get me away from him!” Maryah’s voice cracked and she was visibly shaking.
“Nate?” Shiloh asked, searching for an explanation.
“Take her away from me,” I insisted.
Shiloh and Carson stared blankly. Maryah hid behind them in fear, paler than a ghost. How could I have been so heedless? How could I have put her in danger? As if she hadn’t already been through enough. “I said take her away from me!”
Faith and Harmony drove up in Shiloh’s truck, sending clouds of dust swirling through the air. Carson took Maryah by the arm and dragged her to his car.
“What happened?” Faith shouted.
Maryah’s voice quivered. “That lunatic tried to kill me!”
“What?” Faith gasped.
“Nate, what the hell happened?” Shiloh whispered.
I stood up, my head hanging in shame, and headed for a nearby rock formation. The soft thud of heavy boots gained ground behind me.
“Nate!” Harmony shouted. I maintained a brisk pace, but her steps grew quicker. “Nathan! What was that?”
“I don’t know.”
“The balloon looked like it intentionally crashed.”
“It did.”
She clutched my arm, forcing me to stand still. “Why?”
I ran my hand through my hair. The desert was blurry and spinning. “She was shouting at me, saying we meant nothing to her, that she wanted to die so she could be with her real family. I thought scaring her would make her realize she didn’t want to die. Then the burner wouldn’t reignite and—I shouldn’t have done it.” I fell to my knees, holding my head in my hands. “Good gods, I could have killed her!”
“It’s okay. You didn’t.”
“Our lives were only spared because of Carson.” I stared at my filthy shaking hands. “I only meant to scare her, not hurt her.” My excuse sounded horrid and pathetic, even to me. “What has happened to me?”
She knelt down beside me and closed her hands over mine. “You’re broken, and it’s und
erstandable why.”
Her words tugged at what was left of my heart. I’d felt broken and lost for nearly two decades, yet my kindrily clung to me, refusing to let me fall to pieces. Now, because of my stupidity and recklessness, I’d be forced down a lonely path. “It’s unsafe for her to be around me.”
Harmony opened her mouth but no words surfaced. Her silence said it all.
“So what now?” Harmony finally uttered.
My soul ached at the thought of what I had to do. The answer was simple but devastating. Until this life ended, Maryah and I couldn’t be near each other. Someday, hopefully, my kindrily would find a way to forgive me.
The time had come for me to bid them farewell.
∞
Tiny stones shifted beneath my shoes as I stepped to the edge of Mera Peak. I would have preferred jumping from Everest, but the daunting leap to Nepal had already left me winded. Trying to breath at twenty-one thousand feet was excruciating. The icy Himalayan air would help numb my body and mind, but no degree of cold could numb my soul.
In the grand scheme of things, one lifetime is so short—so insignificant when compared to the centuries Mary and I experienced together. I was determined to erase Maryah from my thoughts so the aching in my heart would cease—as if that were possible.
I stood in the darkness, trying to clear my mind and stop my teeth from chattering before I jumped. All my weight rested on my heels, and my toes hung over the edge of the cliff. The moon glowed behind a web of rain clouds, illuminating the peaks and valleys below. Arcane symbols twinkled above me, the most beautiful star still missing from its place beside mine.
A frigid breeze blew over me. I begged the wind to carry me, to take me to a place where I’d no longer feel heartache. I lifted my face to the supreme element, Aether—the least known and talked about of the elements, but by far the strongest.
Aether exists in every speck of light, every star, every soul, and in parts of existence many minds cannot comprehend. It’s the element that eternally bonds soul mates. Aether is everywhere and in everything at all times, leaving me in a perpetual state of incompleteness without her.
Grasping at Eternity (The Kindrily) Page 12
