by N P Hector
Holding her face in his hands, Adrian’s voice was firm “Sorcha, you willna leave me here. We’ll find shelter and I’ll heal you.” He pushed his arm out and created a fire beside them. In that moment, he would have given anything to be able to heal her with his magik. But all he had was the fire. At the very least, he could warm her.
Sorcha started to feel lighter and much colder, she grasped for Adrian’s hand “Adrian, you cannae heal me. There is no magik that can fix this.”
Adrian shook his head “I willnae accept this fate for you. I cannae.” Sorcha drew their joined hands to her heart until Adrian could feel it’s fading tempo. He had the sudden feeling that Sorcha was like sand. He tried desperately to keep her here with him, but he could feel her fading. She was slipping through his fingers like grains. And no matter how badly he wanted her to stay, he couldn’t stop the fade from happening. He felt powerless to stop what he knew was going to happen. Some small part of him hoped that perhaps if he held her close enough, if he clutched her to his form as tightly as possible then perhaps she wouldn’t slip away.
But her breath was rattling and although the fire burned bright and close by, she still shook from a phantom cold. It shook him to the very core to see someone so young, vibrant, and energetic so cold and small. He had called her “sunbeam” lovingly before, and now her light was dimming. The injustice of it all infuriated him. Death was for men on the battlefield and old women in the beds. Not for his Sorcha.
Sorcha looked at him with wisdom belonging to someone far beyond her age. His stomach clenched with the knowledge that she knew what was going to happen to her. He burned with the deep shame that she had accepted that he wasn’t powerful enough to save her. But instead of anger or accusation, she was calm and pleading. She nuzzled into his chest and sighed, “I just want you to hold me. Will you, Adrian?”
How could she be the one comforting him in this moment? Adrian was supposed to be the strong one, the protector. But here he was falling apart in her darkest moment. Adrian bit off an oath and pulled her closer until his chin lay on top of her crown “I will never let you go.” He resolved to be strong for her. He was glad that she couldn’t see his face or the tears that streamed down his cheeks. He didn’t want her to be afraid of what was coming.
Brennan clapped a hand on Adrian’s shoulder. Dougall brought a blanket from the horses and covered Sorcha’s legs, before stepping back and bowing his head. Sorcha thanked him softly and her shaking eased slightly.
Dougall gave Adrian a panicked look. Sorcha’s breathe was audibly strained now. Without the harsh breaths Dougall believed that it would appear as if she was sleeping, she was so pale and tired looking. The moment felt so intensely private that he coughed and turned away to tend to the horse. He couldnae bare to watch the two lovers endure the separation that was to come.
Adrian lifted his head as a figure appeared out of the woods. The stranger had an ethereal glow about him and was dressed in clothing fit for a court. He had bright blonde hair and intensely green eyes. Adrian growled and pulled Sorcha closer “who goes there?” Dougall and Brennan assumed a combat stance behind Adrian.
“A fae” Dougall breathed.
Adrian leveled a pointed glare at the man in silver robes “use your gifts to restore Lady Sorcha and I will give you everything I own.” The phrase sounded more like a command than a request, but at this point he was willing to kill anything or anyone to save Sorcha. The stranger’s aura was strong and reeked of old magik, but Adrian cared not for his status.
The ethereal man clasped his hands in front of him and inclined his head “She is too far gone for me to restore her; her soul is moving onward as we speak.” The man looked at Sorcha as if he knew her.
His gaze wasn’t predatory. Rather it seemed familiar, as if he had known Sorcha as a wee babe. But he knew that wasn’t possible. Sorcha herself had told him that her fae mother had left her at her father’s castle gates when she was not a day old. Not wanting to spurn a fae, the elderly warrior had taken Sorcha in and loved her as a daughter. No one else had known of Sorcha’s mysterious lineage, and most of the castle folk had assumed that the widowed, childless laird had taken in an infant to raise as his own.
Adrian looked upon Sorcha and smoothed the hood of her cape back so her red curls sprang free. Running a hand through her hair, he demanded “then why are you here, if you cannae help her?”
The unnamed stranger paced around the embers of the dying fire and winced when the firelight flashed off the dagger in Sorcha’s chest. That reaction alone told Adrian that the fae was of the genteel class and not a warrior. Perhaps he did know of Sorcha.
“I am here because Lady Sorcha is the daughter of a great lineage. This was not meant to be. The rogue Order member re-directed fate. And, as you know, we fae are guardians of fate.” The explanation seemed reasonable. There was something about Sorcha that spoke of an inherent nobility. He mused that she would have been just as regal as a peasant had she not been raised in a noble household. There was a fire that burned within her. A fire that had been snuffed out by a cruel Order member.
“On that we agree” Adrian whispered hoarsely.
“And”, he added, “while I cannot save Lady Sorcha and undo this wrong, I can give you another chance”
Adrian growled. If the fae was able to correct the course of fate, then he should also be able to undo this wrong. He would settle for nothing less than the best of what the fae stranger was capable of. “I want her back. Why can we not undo this?”
The man met Adrian’s anger with a neutral expression. Although Sorcha lay silent in Adrian’s arms and could breathe her last breath at any moment the fae was calm as a loch in the morning. The fae spoke in low, soothing tones. “What is done cannot be undone. The balance must be maintained. So, while I cannot undo this, I can...nudge the events down one path instead of another, so that this might course correct down the road.” Adrian digested those words and continued to stroke Sorcha’s hair.
The silence was broken when the fae spoke again, “your souls are two halves of one whole.” Adrian snapped his gaze towards the fae, alerted by the stranger’s words. He was new to the Order, but he knew what that phrase meant.
Could it be that Sorcha and I are truly soulmates? Born of the shadows of a supernova?
His question was answered. “I know that you long suspected that was the case but doubted it because Order members so seldom find soulmates so quickly. But you and Sorcha were meant to be long before either of you were born. You are both meant for great things, and the strength of your souls combined is something that fate cannot even delay. I cannot give you this life together, but I can give you the next. I can tie your souls permanently in this life.”
Soulmates were precious to his people. Adrian had not been raised in the order. But he had been scouted by a member when the warrior had stopped in his village to buy supplies. He had seen the orphaned Adrian working at the blacksmith’s anvil and had been intrigued at the young man’s strength. A quick glance at Adrian’s aura had confirmed what the warrior suspected. Adrian was a lost member of the Order. His parents had been murdered in a raid and following their deaths he was lost to the Order’s traditions.
That void was filled when the warrior took Adrian with him to the nearest training camp. There, Adrian had begun to learn of his potential and of his family’s history. He had been intrigued by the legends surrounding the power that lingered in his bloodline. But he was most captivated by the Order’s mission – to reunite, protect, and avenge soul mates. Or, as they called it, “fated.” It was their sacred duty to see that souls borne from a dying star were reunited and protected. At times, a fated might grow greedy and desperate for the power their soulmate housed. Sometimes, this could lead to the greatest sin an Order member could commit—the murder of their fated for power.
It was that power that drew the separated souls together. That attraction was so powerful that it was impossible to ignore. Adrian had felt that pull when h
e first spotted Sorcha. It was as if his entire being gravitated around her. He felt more powerful with her, and he agonized over any time apart.
He had suspected that she was his fated. But, as the fae wisely commented, it was rare for his kind to find their fated so young. Fated were born from the ashes of a dying star. Looking at the night sky, it was easy to see that there were billions of stars. And thousands of people. Furthermore, there was always the possibility that one soulmate would manifest on earth before the other. Some of the warriors in his training camp were in their 500th year and had not yet met their fated.
Adrian nodded, looking down at Sorcha he caressed her cheek until she opened her eyes. She smiled and whispered that she had heard what the fae had said. There was only one more hurdle to cross. He asked “Love, I cannae bind you to me if you are not willing. It is your choice.”
Sorcha’s voice was faint. “I would be with you in this life and the next, Adrian.” Craning her neck, she looked towards the stranger and whispered “Gideon. Please...tell my mother that I’m sorry I never came home. But I fell in love with a brave warrior” she turned to smile at Adrian. He was shocked that Sorcha had recognized the fae, Gideon, and had known of his connection to her mother.
Gideon nodded and knelt beside the two. “I will fuse your souls now in an impromptu bonding ceremony.” He looked towards Adrian, “I know that your kind prefers a more elaborate ceremony, but this is the best that I can do given the circumstances.” At Adrian’s nod, Gideon moved closer to Sorcha and spoke to her gently.
“Lady Sorcha, I want you to know that this ceremony will bind the two of you together so you can be reborn and find each other in the next life. Without this, your souls would return separately to the stars, never to unite again.” She nodded her head solemnly.
Gideon looked at the both of them. “But I must warn you, this will mean that your mortality is connected as well. While Adrian has reached his majority and attained immortality, Sorcha has not yet reached the majority and is still human. And so, her death would mean…”
Adrian spoke before the fae could finish. His face was like marble and his tone was solemn. “-- My death.”
“Yes. And as you know, nature requires balance. The energy from a dying star must go somewhere, hence the creation of your souls. If you take something, then you must sacrifice something. To give you the opportunity to meet again in another life, we must sacrifice something. It is what nature demands.”
Adrian agreed readily. “Anything. Take my powers. Take my youth. Whatever you need.”
“Easy now, eager warrior. Nature demands equal value. If you fail to prevent Lady Sorcha’s sacrifice in the future, the opportunity to be reborn will be withdrawn, and you will both return to the stars—separately. You will need to ensure that what happens here is not repeated.”
Lady Sorcha twisted in Adrian’s arms. “I don’t understand”
“What we are trying to prevent is Lady Sorcha’s sacrifice, which will soon result in your deaths. In the next life, you must prevent her sacrifice, thus preventing your own deaths again. Nature demands that balance be restored. Sorcha sacrificed herself for love. In the next life, you must ensure that you make that mortal sacrifice instead of Sorcha.”
Adrian nodded, his voice cracking with emotion, “of course.”
Dougall stepped forward and bowed his head respectfully to Gideon “but, how will they find each other in the next life?”
Gideon smiled gently and laid one hand on Adrian and the other on Sorcha’s forehead “the same way they met in this life-- through chance. They’ll recognize each other through these marks.”
A glow appeared on Adrian’s bicep and Sorcha’s rib cage. Burning brightly, the white-hot spots disappeared suddenly. “It’s done. This is your opportunity to right this wrong and to say your goodbyes.” Gideon stood and walked back into the darkness.
“Gideon!” Adrian called. Gideon turned briefly to glance once more at the group. Adrian’s voice was rough with emotion, “thank you.” Gideon nodded and walked further into the darkness. He would not remain to see them through the next phase of their journey.
Sorcha tried her best to sit up. When she realized she was too weak to do so, she wrapped her arms around Adrian’s neck. “Adrian, I’m sorry that we couldn’t be bound together properly.” She smiled sadly. “You deserve much more than this.”
“Shh” Adrian smoothed her hair and rocked her slowly. “We’re bound now. Nothing else matters.”
Sorcha smiled softly and took one more shuddering breath
“No! No, Sorcha listen to me! I’ll find you in the next life. I won’t give up. This isnae goodbye.”
Sorcha traced the outline of his lips “until we meet again, my love.”
Her breath was no more and Adrian felt a great shudder wrack them both. Giving an anguished roar, he crushed her still body to his own. Both Dougall and Brennan bent to the power of the anguish in his voice. His magik reverberating through the forest as a shock wave and felled the trees around them. The fires were now extinguished.
His voice was muffled by Sorcha’s hair “Brennan, Dougall, my friends. I ask one more mission of you.” Lifting his tear-filled eyes to them both, his face and voice were hard as granite “send me into the next life so I might find her” and he extended his sword to them both. “We are bonded. I choose to pursue her willingly instead of waiting for the death bond to take hold.”
Dougall expelled a long breathe “Milord…”
Cradling Sorcha and bringing her fully into his arms, Adrian’s voice was forceful. “I’m ready. Do it now.”
Chapter Three
Soul mates may be linked, but fight to separate, causing wounds and confusion. They teach what no one else can.
- Donna Lynn Hope
“I didn’t mean it-- I just, I love him so much, and he wants to leave ME.”
Believe it or not, this was Selene Ashford’s version of a good day at work. As lead hostage negotiator for the East Coast of the US region, she considered it fine work that the perp was sobbing quietly. Previously, she had barricaded herself, her husband, and their three small children in their clapboard suburban home and had threatened to kill them all. And while Mrs. Hankleman was still waving the gloc around, the fact that the three kids were safely tucked in the cruiser and away from the house was a very positive sign.
The building itself was the picture of the run down 1970s American Dream. Its seafoam exterior had faded to a strange shade of kelly green. The gutters were full of leaves, and the windows could use a good cleaning. The lawn was encroaching on the sidewalk, and the white picket fence was crooked and peeling. The Hanklemans had been holding onto the appearance of the American Dream so hard that their grip had stained the vision. Selene figured that this hostage situation was the culmination of the disintegrating dream. Although she had been on her feet for most of the day and was definitely getting a sun burn from the sun exposure, she assumed that Mrs. Hankleman was having a far worse day than she was. It had been an 8 hour long standoff, but with the arrival of blubbering tears she expected to tidy up here in about half an hour. 45 minutes, tops.
She could feel the crowd of officers shift nervously behind her. They probably viewed the woman’s melt down as crocodile tears. She could tell that they were growing restless with just waiting. They wanted this tidied up before the overtime ran them into the red.
She was in the midst of guessing who would be first to break ranks to question her when a young policeman approached her. Of course, they’d send the rookie. They knew she didn’t have it in her heart to chew him out before he was properly seasoned. The young man toyed with the sunglasses in his hand and kept his head down. “Umm...Ms. Ashford...err. Dr. Ashford, umm should we be concerned?”
She counted to ten before she responded. Flashing the young officer a reassuring smile she assured him, “this is the final phase. I’m going to offer her a peace token and then clear this up.” When the young man fidgeted with his glasse
s some more and glanced back at the wall of blue behind them, she turned up the wattage on her smile. “Don’t you worry about a thing – no rookies been shot on my watch before.”
The police officer looked doubtful (and exhausted) but nodded reluctantly and returned to his cruiser. His buddies laughed and slapped him on the back. Even from a distance she could hear them ribbing him for his apprehension.
She didn’t blame him. Hostage situations were always scary. Humans negotiated over everything. Could they get a better deal on that car? Should they go to the store down the street with the special on ham or could the superstore price match? But all that went to hell in a handbasket when they needed to negotiate over human life. At that point, the gloves were off. People held up their hands and stepped away. But Selene tried to view it with the most practical lens she could. If she didn’t do that people could be killed.
And Selene was very good at negotiating. She had learned how to drive a hard bargain from her mother, who had been forced to raise Selene alone after her father died when she was 14. Watching her mother bargain had taught her the magic of pushing someone closer and closer to a settlement. She had used those skills to bump her grades up in senior year when applying to universities, and then again when she had to secure her own funding for her PhD. Now, she negotiated for a living.
She did it because she was damn good at it. And she’d be lying if she didn’t get a thrill out of the long standoff and the eventual surrender. She knew that some people thought she drew negotiations out because she was seriously disturbed. And who knew, maybe she was. But at the end of the day Selene didn’t rush a perp because people made mistakes when they went too fast. Perps didn’t want to be told what to do, they wanted someone to offer them a lifeline and then feel like they were the ones to negotiate it.
That’s exactly where Mrs. Hankleman was now. The woman had run out of options and was looking for an out. It was Selene’s job to toss her a lifeline and make it look like Mrs. Hankleman was getting the best end of the deal. She figured that with 4pm approaching it was time to wrap this up. If she kept at it any longer, the perp was going to get antsy. And antsy people were just as bad as rushed people – they made mistakes. Moving closer to the house, she offered her palms forward in a gesture of peace.
