S
A/N: This a Multi-Perspective work, each chapter (characterized in Roman Numerals) will include which character's perspective is present in bold italics. It is also a half-completed novel that has been in the works for years. It's a bit of a mess, but I wanted to share it regardless. Things will change as I edit them in my main document. Thank you,
Clover.
Who
From where I stood there was no mistaking it, the girl lived. Coming to investigate the power source I had not expected to find a mere child. Her mother somehow managed to interfere with my setup, though she was human.
The mother looked directly at me, and I panicked.
How?
Magus living on Earth had found a way to hide their oddities. It wouldn’t be a stretch to assume the woman’s origin was similarly ancient to the child she protected. If my assumption was correct, with one’s death the other would inherit the very power I meant to capture. Familial magic. I had to find a way around it, somehow. A way that would keep both vessels alive.
I groaned, and took off.
“Welcome back,” called the Chairman as I entered the temple.
I smiled, though it pained me. “Thank you, your grace.”
Making my way to my seat, I greeted each of the members with a strained smile. I loathed the forced pleasantries. Soon it would all end. Soon.
“How was your patrol?” asked the woman to my left. I hid the twitching of my brow with laughter.
“Desolate. I look forward to job reassignment.”
She nodded solemnly. Pity. It was disgusting.
“Isn’t that one hundred and thirty years away?” the man to my right added. “I’d sure like a vacation. You should be glad you get a break from this stuffy place.”
I rolled my eyes, something I picked up from my ‘vacation’.
It was no secret how I felt about the humans and magus residents that inhabited Middleground. I made it clear every decade that humanity was loathsome, that I would rather ferry corrupt souls through the seven rings than deal with another self-obsessed, vile, Earth-dwelling sack of meat and bones.
The only thing that kept me sane was the joy I felt when bending impressionable humans to my will. One hat trick had them on their knees worshipping you. Yet, several thousand hat tricks would not satisfy the will of the Council. They were thankless. So I would grovel at the feet of Ceres. She understood my worth. She praised me. She gave me the answer. It would only be a matter of time before I had a power so great, I’d have the council at my knees.
Distracted fingers of mine played with the remnants of a Divinius feather pen. It was no more than a shard of it’s past, duller than the color beige. I kept it as a reminder of my purpose.
In my peripheral I saw the ghost of movement. Through the window of the third-floor living quarters, my eyes registered a familiar face. I scrambled to my feet and hid the mess of scripture sprawled across the floor. With haste, I ran to the bedroom to find a weapon.
The grating sound of drunken yelling caused a wave of intense nausea. I yelped as the front door shook. He had no self control, that door would come down one way or the next. I deadbolted the bedroom door, desperately trying to pull off the seal on that obnoxiously yellow wallpaper. Behind it was my stash of weapons—illegally acquired—from Altum Orbis.
Having a mortal form was essential, but it put me in serious danger. I hadn’t anticipated the daily run-ins with my roommate’s crazy ex-boyfriend. One shot to the abdomen would leave me incapacitated for several months. Death was of no concern to me, I had the perks of an immortal being in that regard. Still, it would throw a wrench in everything I had worked so hard for.
The wall tore away. I reached into the gaping hole and found a hefty piece. It was a Gladius, of the contrarium variety. It allowed those with their magic confined to non-violent purposes to convert it into violent magic. Possession of contrarium-imbed weapons and talismans was declared as an actionable offense by The Council eons ago—but that did nothing to stop Earthbound magus-folk from obtaining them.
I held the beauty with care, momentarily forgetting my situation. The bacchanalian ramblings and heavy steps only gave me a moment’s notice. I screamed as he kicked the door in with enough force to break it’s hinges.
“Were’s mah gurl..?” asked the man, barely stringing a sentence together.
I spun on my heel to face the droopy eyed day-drinker.
His mousey-brown hair sat atop his round head like a bird’s nest. The white’s of his eyes were bloodshot. Through his glassy, poop-colored irises, I got a glimpse into the very root of his disgusting soul.
I held the Gladius before me, poised, prepared.
“Bitch,” he mumbled at my non-response.
With heavy lids, he approached me. The hilt of my weapon seemed to slip from my hands. I felt terror, terror that I’d have to go through with it, with murder.
The man smirked at my sharp object. He knew. I knew that he knew. A small understanding passed between us before he ripped the Gladius from my hands and drove it straight into my side.
I fell to my knees as crimson spilled onto the horribly beige carpet. As if regretting his decision, he stepped back and shook his head. I slowly slipped away from my physical form.
A huge setback. All because I couldn’t stab that trash piece of flesh and bones.
Time wasn’t the same in-between. It was only seconds after my consciousness entered the realm of lemure that I felt the warmth of an infant flame.
It was the girl, she’d grown into the picture of her mother. But she was different. The sliver of her that was human made it so.
Her eyes were dark grey, watery with unshed tears. With each stride the flyaway strands of dark-blonde hair bounced in the crisp air. The girl was pale as a ghostly lemure, I thought once that my hand might go right through her.
I made my way to the source and followed her. She ascended the floating box to reach the dwelling where my body rested. The man was long gone. I only hoped he wouldn’t return for her.
As soon as she entered the place, her face said she knew. It wasn’t long before she found the body, my body. Her mourning almost made me feel pity, almost. I only needed her trust, not her friendship.
I drifted away from her.
The further I strayed, the blurrier my vision became. But, it didn’t take a genius to recognize the beginnings of a fire. It spread quickly, the girl didn’t notice. Soon enough, everything was set ablaze. It seemed like seconds. She still had no idea.
I watched in bewilderment as she slowly faded. Her unaffected body slumped over mine.
There she lay, holding a pile of ashes to her chest. No signs of life came from her tiny frame, only the flickering fire that burned beside her.
A Vila’s flame is her soul. Only when that dies will she, too, perish.
