by Ali Winters
She wanted to reach out for support, but Caspian’s eyes were shut, inky swirls of power formed in his hands. Against her will, her own eyes slid closed and she sank down into the depths of her mind, trapped in a world of darkness.
If only Kain could be here, she thought. But he wasn’t. Kain was moving on to the next stage, whatever that was. But he should have been there with her.
A pressure built up, filling her with something she wasn’t sure how to identify. She tried to keep her will strong, knew that she had no choice but to accept Silas’s power. The pressure continued to expand, building with each passing second, and it soon grew uncomfortable. Nivian tried to squirm, but her body refused to obey her commands. Her heart sped up, pounding against her ribs.
Kain… Kain should be here!
She could feel her determination crumble into dust.
She didn’t want this.
Not without him.
It felt as if she were being compressed into something impossibly small.
No… no… no. Please stop! Nivian begged inside her mind, willing Caspian to hear her thoughts. But the darkness went on and on.
Just before she lost herself completely to the crushing weight of it, her eyes snapped open as her lungs sucked in a large gulp of air.
She was free.
Caspian let his hands fall away from her, plucking the stone from her brow. He ran his hands down the length of her arms then stepped away, regarding her in his silent, thoughtful manner.
Nivian’s head lulled to the side as her breathing returned to normal.
The sense of déjà vu washed over her bones with chilling familiarity. But when…?
It was as if she’d already lived this moment, though her gut told her that whatever was to come next would be different than her phantom memory.
It hadn’t been as bad as she’d expected. Not painful, just pressure, but that made sense taking in all that power.
Nivian sat up, her body aching and sore, her throat burning. Had she been screaming? Caspian’s form blurred before her eyes as he moved closer.
“Caspian, I feel…” she started, her throat tightened and it took effort to speak. She pressed a hand to her brow, her head spun. He spoke, but his words were muffled as if her head was underwater. Was it the after affect of the ceremony?
He reached out to her and her world went black. Darkness gave way to blinding light. Her head snapped back and her muscles all contracted at once, her back arching. The buzzing of Silas’s power spread from her core, radiating out until it vibrated along every nerve in her body.
A scream echoed in her ears and it took her a moment to realize that was her scream.
She had been wrong. Caspian had been wrong, or perhaps he’d only tried to spare her the fear of the pain that would come.
She could feel herself fade as the unseen force of Silas’s power ripped itself violently from her, clawing and scratching its way out.
An eternity passed before she collapsed in a heap upon the stone altar. Caspian stared down at her, fear in those dark depths. She tried to speak, but felt so drained. So weak. There was nothing left in her. And just before her eyes closed, she thought, if she were lucky, if Gaia saw it fit to reward her, she might see Kain for a brief moment before she disappeared into the nothing.
Soft clacking danced on the edge of Nivian’s consciousness, then the gentle touch of a damp breeze, and the familiar cologne that always set her heart to racing. She didn’t move for a long moment, hoping that when she opened her eyes, she really would see Kain’s face.
She shifted. The slight movement sent waves of pain pulsing through every inch of her body. Nivian blinked bleary-eyed and took in her surroundings. Off white walls, void of any decor, the dark blue sheets under her, and the French doors leading out to a small balcony with one slightly cracked open to let in fresh air cooled by rain.
She was home, in Kain’s apartment. Their apartment.
Nivian pushed to sit up, fighting through the fire in her muscles. She clasped her throbbing head with both hands until the world steadied once more.
Something soft touched her arm and she looked down. The white bear Kain had given her leaned against her now. She picked it up and snuggled it against her cheek taking what comfort it could give.
The ceremony… had it worked? She wondered. Nivian reached inside herself and felt around for any tendril of power, not knowing if it would feel foreign or if it would have blended with her own and truly become part of her.
But she felt nothing different.
“I am glad to see you are finally awake,” Caspian said softly.
She turned to see him standing at the edge of the room, his tie slightly off center. It wasn’t a detail she’d normally notice if it hadn’t been for his constant perfection. Even his hair was a little mussed. A few strands had fallen loose.
“You’ve been asleep for two days.”
Nivian set the bear in her lap and asked, “Did it work?” Her voice came out scratchy and raw.
Caspian looked at her for a long moment before dropping his gaze to the floor. “No, you would feel it if it had.”
Her heart plummeted. It had failed… but she was still alive. “How?” she managed to ask. “What went wrong?”
Caspian crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed. He ran a hand over his lightly stubbled chin. “It is a very delicate ceremony, Nivian, and has never been done before.”
She clutched the bear tighter to her.
“I knew you were in a weakened state and—” his voice hitched and he looked to her with tears in his eyes. “I pushed you before you were ready. I risked your very existence.”
Nivian moved to her knees and placed a hand on his arm. “I wouldn’t have done it if I wasn’t willing to risk it.”
He stared at her intently, his eyes searching hers for… forgiveness? Then his arms were wrapped around her shoulders and he was hugging her. “I am so sorry, Nivian, I am sorry. I am sorry.” A warm dampness wet the skin of her neck, and she held him tightly.
“It’s okay. There’s nothing to forgive. I’m okay. I promise… just a little sore.”
Eventually, he leaned back and she looked away as he wiped the tears from his face.
“The writings in the Tome were scarce. They gave the incantation, and what was needed. The altar, the chalice, and the devoted vessel—you.”
Nivian shifted uncomfortably and played with the red ribbon around the bear’s neck.
“What were you feeling, Nivian?” The question caught her off guard. “I could feel the power begin to take, then it resisted. It was like mixing oil and water.”
“I was scared. The pressure was so strong I thought it would crush me. I…” her voice hitched. “I wanted to know I wasn’t alone.” She fell silent. Rain continued to patter against the glass doors and, after a long moment, she raised her eyes to his. “I wanted Kain,” she admitted in a barely audible whisper.
“I see,” he said. Caspian’s hand fell upon hers and gave a sympathetic squeeze. “You and Kain share a connection, it is natural you would seek him out in such a situation.”
Her jaw dropped. “You… you knew? You knew about the bond and you never said anything to me?”
“It was something you had to come to terms with on your own. He was meant to be the other half of you.”
Nivian felt tears burn their way up her throat. She tried to blink them away, but one escaped, sliding down her cheek then falling onto the back of her hand.
“Nivian.” Caspian lifted her chin with a knuckle. “He may be gone, but the bond between you remains. What you do with that connection can either make you stronger or break you.”
Kain should have been there. He should be the one to take Yeva’s powers, but she’d cut his life force making that path impossible. Nivian knew she was to blame for the impending destruction. If only she’d had more faith in him and not let him give in to the pain. She’d been rash in believing he hadn’t had a choice, and now they’d
all pay the price.
“Who will take on Yeva’s powers now?”
“Finn has volunteered for the first attempt,” Caspian said plainly. Nivian watched his throat bob.
A shiver skittered down her back. She couldn’t imagine Finn being the one she would work with for the rest of time. In truth, the thought of anyone but Kain seemed to steal the air from her lungs. He was irreplaceable.
She and Kain were the strongest. Did anyone else even stand a chance at success? How many times would Finn have to try before it either worked or took too much from him?
As strong as everyone kept telling her she was, she had still failed. Caspian said it was because she wasn’t fully committed, but did he know that for certain? What if she failed because she wasn’t capable of taking in so much power?
“I don’t know if I can do this without Kain.”
Caspian stood. “Nivian, please understand my words come from a place of necessity.” Her head snapped up. “But you must let go of Kain.” And with that, he transported out of the apartment, leaving her alone. Always alone…
His words had been a slap to the face, stinging with the unexpected force of them. She froze. She struggled to think, to breathe, to move. Her throat tightened, strangling her.
Hot tears spilled down her face. She couldn’t just let Kain go. A sob worked its way free and she collapsed, folding over. Her bear pressed tightly to her chest. The only word that formed on her lips was his name; a strangled, pleading prayer. “Kain…”
SEVEN
KAIN
KAIN STEPPED ONTO the riverfront and gaped. The water lapped softly at the rocky shore. He dropped his head back and squinted upward. It seemed he’d only entered a much more expansive cave. Instead of sky, the roof of the cave hovered high and wide, miles above. It was a strange sensation to not see what his mind expected.
A rock skittered and he spun to look behind him. Cassandra was gone. Leaving him not knowing what to do or where to go.
“Of course she’d leave without saying anything,” he said flatly.
Kain eyed the cave they stepped out of moments ago and debated on going back the way he’d come, but she wouldn’t have brought him here if that’s what he was meant to do. There weren’t many options for him to choose. So, he turned away from the cave opening and headed toward the river.
A pale green fog covered the water, making it look as if it stretched endlessly out like the ocean, but the ripples on the surface told him it was anything but.
He didn’t know which direction he should go in; toward the head of the river or with the flow. There was no indication, no worn trail, no footprints in the mud, nothing to give him the slightest hint. He supposed it didn’t really matter.
Arches and stalagmites replaced what would normally have been shrubbery and trees along the bank. They curved in unnatural ways, twisting and winding.
Kain followed the river, and though it turned and wound like a snake, it always headed in the same direction. He walked and walked expecting his legs to eventually tire, but they never did.
Ahead, at the water’s edge, stood a man with his back facing Kain. Long dark hair was pulled into a braid that reached down to his lower back. Sharp pauldrons and bracers graced his shoulders and seemed to be made of molten metal with a worn and tattered cape that hung from his shoulders. Atop his head sat a blackened crown that had the appearance of horn like antlers jutting out from his temples.
Kain approached, wondering if the man was the soul of a long dead king dropped off by another Sprit Councilor centuries ago who just lost his way, or if he was a shade waiting to guide him to the next phase of his journey. Kain stopped when he was still a good distance away but close enough to be heard.
“Excuse me,” he started.
But the man remained motionless, staring off into the distance.
Kain waited. And waited. And waited.
He’d never had an issue talking to strangers, but a strange energy rolled off this man, setting off alarm bells in his head and keeping him at bay. He cleared his throat. The man shifted, but still didn’t face him.
After long countless moments, the king like figure spoke in a deep voice as he finally acknowledged him. “Hello, Kain.”
“Who are you?” Kain narrowed his eyes. How was it possible for this stranger to know his name? It couldn’t be a ‘dead man knows all’ thing, or else he, too, would know the stranger’s name.
“You know who I am.”
Kain groaned inwardly, already tired of this game, but said nothing. What was it about preternatural beings that made them enjoy talking in obscure circles?
They played a battle of wills though Kain abhorred it. But he was dead, and it wasn’t as if he could ever do any of the things he actually wanted to. If he could, he’d be on his way to Nivian, or work, or a number of other places, like the dentist for a root canal. Honestly, he thought anything would be better than this. So what did it matter how long they waited here?
He had no idea how much time had passed, or if time existed in the after life at all.
Shadows rolled off the man as if they were living, breathing things. The man turned achingly slow. He exuded power, held himself with an elegance humans were incapable of mastering.
“Hades,” Kain said, feeling stupid for saying it aloud. Hades was a myth, a legend. He wasn’t real. Yet, as he spoke the name, the smile on the god’s face told him otherwise.
“You are more stubborn than I expected. I suspect that it will serve you well.” His voice was so human, though Kain wasn’t sure what he’d expected.
What does that mean? Kain wondered, not appreciating the dire feeling his words imparted on him.
But before he could say anything, Hades spoke again. “Soon, you will begin your journey, but first you must choose your punishment.”
“My punishment?” Kain asked dumbly.
“Yes,” Hades said matter of factly.
“Don’t I at least get a trial?” Kain took a few steps back. All his life he had tried to be a good person, and while he hadn’t been perfect, he didn’t think he’d done anything to deserve being punished in his afterlife.
Hades laughed. He looked down on Kain as if he were a precious child asking silly questions. Kain bristled at the expression.
“A trial for what, my dear boy?”
“If I’m going to be punished, don’t I at least get to plead my innocence?” Kain asked incredulously.
Hades stepped closer, too close for Kain’s personal comfort. The god clasped his hands behind his back and walked a slow circle around him. A beast playing with its prey.
“It is your Hunter blood for which you pay. It is because as a mortal, you have led a surprisingly honorable life. So, as a reward, I shall allow you the chance to choose your own path.” He stopped in front of him, examining him from head to toe. “It is rare that I find myself making this offer to your kind.”
“Why are Hunters punished?” he asked with a frown.
That seemed to startle Hades. He blinked at Kain with wide eyes. “You are almost as old as I. Do you honestly not know?” The surprise in his voice quickly turned to accusation.
“How would I know? I am only twenty-six.” He’d led a good life, short but still good, or that’s what he’d thought. Though, with all of this, it seemed as if perhaps he was mistaken.
“But your soul is not.”
That’s right. Kain had forgotten Yeva had said she’d given him the gift of reincarnation. Rebirth, she had called it. “I don’t have any memories of… before,” Kain admitted.
Hades didn’t respond, didn’t offer any explanation. Kain only knew the short version of the history of Hunters.
Once they’d been called Watchers. They worked alongside the Reapers, then there was a war and much of their powers had vanished or changed. But by that point, he’d already died. Not that he remembered a single moment of any of it. He never cared, never felt even the smallest sliver of connection to that life. Only his life force
remained the same, he was—had been—a completely new person. Still, he had no idea what about the Hunters’ history would warrant a punishment.
Hades held out a fist, palm up. His fingers unfurled slowly to reveal five golden coins. Each with a different set of marks Kain didn’t recognize embossed onto their surface.
Kain reached out, ready to pluck one up.
“Choose wisely, Hunter,” Hades warned, halting Kain’s hand.
Kain looked from the coins glinting up at him in the strange light then to Hades’s face and then back. He had no way of knowing which to pick, or how or what any of them would mean for his punishment. His earlier feeling of frustration at the games came back in full force.
“What’s the difference between them?” he asked irritably.
The god barked out a laugh and said, “That is something you will have to figure out for yourself.”
Kain had never had the urge to punch someone before, but with the way Hades was playing with him, offering him a choice at what he could only assume would have been a fate worth dreading or something not too terrible… only to give him what felt like no choice at all. After all, how could he possibly make a decision if he had no idea what the options even were?
His eye twitched. “What kind of choice is that?” he ground out between clenched teeth. Try as he might, he couldn’t keep the annoyance from his tone. Not that he was trying all that hard anymore.
“If you prefer, I can decide for you.” Hades smiled darkly. And gave a low chuckle that reeked of mischief.
Somehow, it was easy to forget that he was in this god’s domain, no longer bound by the laws of the living but by Hades’s desires.
Kain supposed it didn’t really matter which coin he picked. The differences between them meant nothing to him. He reached out and snatched one up. Hades withdrew his hand, and the remaining coins vanished into thin air.
Turning the coin over, Kain searched for a clue as to what fate it might bring, but nothing stuck out to him. The image on the front was a rough hewn line with two petal shapes at the top, and on the back was the symbol of the Hunters.
