Chapter Text
Above me, the air is torn with the caw of a crow. I look up from my phone to see the bird circling over the roof of a high-rise. It’s too distant to tell, but I can’t help wondering if it’s Sylus’s favorite little menace Mephisto. He isn’t above leaving the N109 Zone, especially if his master has “reasons” for sending him into Linkon.
Right now, I think I’d prefer it to be an ordinary crow. Not that beady-eyed machine.
Looking back at my phone, it isn’t long until my eyes glaze over. My feet walk me closer and closer to the Hunters Association headquarters, but the world around me fades. I just can’t shake last night’s dream.
It’s the same one that I’ve dreamed on and off ever since surviving the Gaia Research Center ages ago. Every single time it shows up, it stays with me for the rest of the day.
I close my eyes, but it’s no use.
At night, falling from the top of a skyscraper. Wind shrieking in my ears. Garish neon of city lights getting closer and brighter. The world around me flickers between the dark and gritty N109 Zone and…somewhere mountainous and strange. It seems familiar, but I don’t recognize it.
And I’m not alone. Sylus holds me tight and his red eyes blaze into mine as we surrender to gravity.
The lingering scent of this morning’s rain pulls me back into the real world. I open my eyes, the gleaming steel and glass buildings of Linkon reflecting harsh, stinging sunlight. Traffic, chatter, and drones drown out everything else. Everything is normal, like it should be.
But something very wrong clings to me.
I feel the nervous twitch in my fingers before my heart starts to race. The air inside my lungs shrinks, weighing down my breath. And with it all, a creeping, unexplainable sadness. Before it gets worse, I force myself to breathe in as deeply as possible. I clench my hands as I exhale and repeat the process to keep my mind from spiraling out of control. It doesn’t help as much as it should, but I can’t do better than this.
When I open my hands, I find red, burning lines in their palms.
Shaking my head, I step up the pace as I get closer to headquarters. I have more important things to focus on than my dreams and feelings. Wanderer attacks are on the rise and it’ll take every hunter the Association has to stop them from threatening populated areas.
The Wanderers are the real threats. Not whatever keeps rising up inside me.
~
Only a few minutes in and it already feels like Simone and I have been fighting for over an hour.
A Luminivore’s giant sword-like claw swings at me. Dodging, I roll out of the way before a small tree crashes to the ground where I stood. To my left, I see Simone with her sword held high, her gun long since exhausted. The Luminivore before her has already torn up much of the forest around us to shreds. I wince as it screams in rage.
Simone lands two successful blows before having to step back. Her brown hair is matted to her forehead with sweat. “I could use a little help here!” she yells.
“Hang on – I almost have this one!”
With my gun also spent, I switch to my own sword. Knocking my Luminivore’s arm back with the flat of the blade, I go in for a fatal stab. It doesn’t land quite where I want it, but it brings the Wanderer to its knees. Head hung low, it doesn’t even cry out in pain.
I lift my sword over my head, ready to end this.
WHOOSH!
I can’t breathe as the Luminivore’s unexpected strike sends me flying across the clearing. My eyes are filled with branches and sky until I slam into a massive tree. Pain explodes along my spine. A sharp ringing fills my ears. I’m too dazed to speak, to sense anything other than pain.
And…sorrow.
No!
I struggle to push myself up on my hands and knees. But I can’t as the strange sadness sinks into me, turning my limbs to lead. Thick and heavy as tar, it pools within my heart. Now every breath feels like it’s being squeezed inside my lungs before I can get it out. My pulse thunders louder and faster in my ears. And as panic and dread quickly follow sorrow, all I can think is that this pain is going to kill me before anything else does.
Beyond the roar of my heartbeat, I hear Simone’s scream.
Grimacing, I push myself back onto my feet. When I finally see Simone, she’s knocked out on the ground. Her shirt, usually pristine white, is now soaked in her own blood. The Luminivores tower over her prone body and shriek, ready to go in for the kill.
There’s only one thing I can do. Relying on pure muscle memory, I stand, grab my sword, and go in for the attack.
I can see each swing and blow executed with my usual precision, but it doesn’t feel like I’m the one fighting the Luminivores. I see the Wanderers in front of me, I feel their attacks, and I’m aware of the fatigue I’m pushing through. But none of it feels real. Everything plays out like a simulation, like I’m only watching my body go through the motions.
All the while, grief weighs down my heart and my thoughts spiral, getting louder and louder.
I’m all alone.
So alone.
I’ve lost…what? Lost what?
I don’t have time to wonder as the first Luminivore falls dead before me. Its body shakes the ground, landing inches away from Simone. Trembling, I look up at the last Luminivore.
No one. Nothing.
Sudden tears blur my vision. Glaring, I will them back in so I can face my enemy. I tighten my grip on my sword with both hands. As I concentrate all my strength, the corners of my vision go dark. And the thoughts grow louder than before.
Alone…so alone.
Only loss.
No one in the world…
Until my dying day…
When everything becomes still, the world materializes around me again. A tremor runs through my aching arms as I stand over the dead Luminivore.
I don’t remember what I did to it at all.
Safe at last, I rush to Simone’s side. When I take a closer look at her injury, my heart sinks. A deep, terrible gash runs up the length of her stomach, blood oozing out onto the ground. Her distant eyes and pale skin aren’t promising.
“I need medical assistance now!” I yell as the call goes through on my watch. “Hunter down in No-Hunt Zone No. 7. Luminivore attack with a stomach wound and severe blood loss. I’m sending you coordinates. We need help now!”
Returning my attention to Simone, I see her eyes are drifting closed. I nudge her awake and touch her face.
“Hang in there, alright? Keep your eyes open,” I say, fighting the fear clawing at my throat. “Keep breathing. I’m going to have to apply pressure and– ”
It isn’t until I see the red streak on Simone’s face where I touched her that I realize my hands are covered in blood.
I can’t move.
“What…is it?” Simone asks. Her voice is faint in my ears.
A new panic floods my veins as the parched world around me is broken apart by rivulets of lava. Golden sparks rose up into the darkness. My hands are covered in blood and a being I can’t quite make out kneels before me, a giant blade stuck in his chest. This is my doing. I didn’t want this to happen. As the terror of this knowledge rips me apart, the being speaks his last words before seizing my hands, clamping them around the hilt, and forcing me to drive the blade deeper into him.
Then, we fall.
Through the shadows.
Through the clouds.
Through–
“I – agh!”
Simone clutches my hands to her as a fit of coughs wracks her body. Blinking, I snap back to the present.
“Hey!” My voice is almost angry as I apply pressure to the wound. “Hang in there a little while longer. You’re going to be fine. Just don’t fall asleep on me!”
I keep repeating these kinds of sayings over and over, unable to believe anything that’s just happened. The moment her eyes start to flutter, I grab her hand and squeeze it. Only when help arrives do I finally let go.
~
A few hours later, I’m in the mental health services office at headquarters. The beige-colored walls and afternoon light through the window seem ridiculous after the chaos of today. At least, the usual peace of this place has no effect on me now. Dennis, my middle-aged and overworked counselor, looks at me from the other side of his desk. But I don’t have it in me to return his gaze. My eyes fall instead upon the small yellow notebook I’m holding.
As if anything I’ve written in it could erase or reverse what happened.
“I could have helped Simone sooner if I hadn’t…if that hadn’t happened,” I say. “I’m usually good at pushing through things on the job.”
“She’ll recover, though,” Dennis replies. “You still saved her life.”
“She wouldn’t be like this if it wasn’t for me.”
Leaning forward, Dennis scrutinizes me. His small glasses slide further down his nose. “What about this really bothers you?”
My fingers tighten around the journal. “These episodes…they’re happening more often and getting stronger. I try identifying and tracking triggers all the time, but they’re so random and inconsistent.” Stifling a shiver, I shake my head. “I don’t know what more we could do. No amount of venting makes me feel okay. Meds make me sick and sluggish. And none of the coping methods you’ve given me really work.”
“You need to be patient. Coping methods need time–”
“Patient?”
“Yes.” Dennis either ignores or doesn’t register how stunned I am. “They’re not things that work overnight, generally speaking.”
“We’ve been working on this for several months. Nothing has changed. Now a hunter almost loses her life because of my unwellness and you want me to be patient?”
His blue eyes widen at my anger, but only for a second. I can barely stay seated.
“How am I supposed to be patient if it’s getting worse? Someone could die the next time this happens!”
With a sigh, Dennis says, “Look, when you’re working missions as often as you do, I understand there’s little time to reckon with your trauma. But you still have to try–
“Trauma? What are you talking about?” I can’t help scoffing. “Facing danger and destruction is part of my job. I got used to that real quick. If I couldn’t handle any of that, how could I–”
“I’m talking about what happened the night of the Zoion Hunt. What happened at Gaia,” says Dennis. His dark brows draw themselves together in a deep frown. “You faced more than danger and destruction that night. Your life was threatened. You discovered the truth about yourself…I’d be shocked if that really had no effect on you.”
Glaring, I respond, “It wasn’t any more traumatic than anything else I’ve lived through. And I’ve moved on, haven’t I? You don’t see me crying or obsessing over what happened. Isn’t that what’s best for me? For everyone?”
Even as I say those words, they ring false in my own ears. My mind flashes back to the long, sterile halls of the Gaia Research Center against my will. I can hear that maniac Dimitri, telling me what I am, or rather what I was meant to be. How my energy grew more powerful with each of my deaths and rebirths…how it allegedly opened up Deepspace and unleashed the Wanderers into our world. Ranting in fanatic tones that only my death would save humanity. I didn’t, and still don’t, know how much of that to believe. But the truth didn’t matter once he sealed me in the glass collision chamber – the same one he’d thrown me into when I was a child.
All that mattered was the air being stolen from me, the breaths that were looking to be my last.
My spirit slipping away. The universe expanding before me, playing out its cycles of life and death as I breathe in time and space. Seeing the thread of all my lifetimes form for one clear moment. All my memories grow vivid and the mystery of myself is revealed. My past finally belongs to me.
Then my soul returns. The memories flee to the darkest corners of my mind, blurry, broken, and out of reach. The shattered glass cracking under my feet and golden flames all around show the aftermath of my arrival. Black and red mist wraps around me, its energy protecting me as the cruel lab that marred my childhood collapses piece by piece.
And Sylus…stands there, smiling at me as if he knows better than Dimitri what I’m truly capable of. As if he’s always known my power.
“Are you listening to me?”
I look back up at Dennis. He stares at me, exasperated. Did I remember all that in the blink of an eye? Or have I been sitting spaced out in front of him for minutes?
“Sorry.” Dazed, I sound softer, uncertain. “What were you saying?”
“I just wanted to know if you at least have someone in your life you trust enough to talk to about this,” he replies. “Anyone you can reach out to?”
“Things weren’t this bad at first, so I never thought to. But…I don’t know.” Thinking hard, my hope grows dim. “My colleagues have enough to worry about with work. None of my other friends could possibly understand…”
Immediately, I think of Sylus. He was there. He would understand. More importantly, I’m certain he knows everything I’ve forgotten or half-remembered. Everything that could explain these unexpected emotions, dreams, and memories.
When I bring up the past, however, he never reveals it. He hides it away like one of his treasures, too precious to be viewed by anyone else. Too precious to be touched by me. Even if he lets a hint or two slip, I know nothing I say or do will make him talk.
He’d do just about anything to help me if I was in pain or distress. Maybe he’d even sympathize if he knew about my episodes. He may even have experienced similar things because of what he remembers. I’ve never asked him if he has.
But if it remains a barrier I can’t cross, then nothing he can say or do will help me.
“The one person I could talk to…” I look out the window and see crows flying through the city. It only reminds me of him. “…I’m not sure how well that would go.”
When I look back at Dennis, he’s typing something into his computer.
“What are you doing?”
“Asking Jenna if she–” He nods as a notification flashes on his screen. “Excellent.” Turning to me, he says, “Congratulations – you are now granted seven days of administrative leave.”
Now I can’t stay seated. My chair rattles as I rise in a panic. “Dennis, I can’t accept that! I don’t need a break. I just need something that’ll fix me. Is that too much to ask?”
“There is no “fixing” your mental wellbeing. What you need is healing. You need time to let yourself relax. A week isn’t nearly enough, but it’s the most I can give you, considering the current demand for hunters.”
“Dennis–“
“Use this week to detach yourself from your work,” he interrupts. “Rest at home or any place that feels nice and safe. Do something you haven’t done in a while. Phone a friend. Sleep in. Take walks in the park. Whatever puts you at ease, go for it.”
“So…do nothing.” With a sigh, I ask, “How is this supposed to help?”
“You can’t begin healing trauma when you’re constantly under stress. Do you really think facing more Wanderers is going to change what’s inside you? You need to take this break seriously.” After a long pause, he’s back to his usual, worn-out self. He sounds almost apologetic when he asks, “Would you like to see if the psychiatry department could prescribe something new? Or at the very least give you a sleeping aid?”
I hesitate. The last thing I want is to try something else that won’t change anything. To accept Dennis’s words means resigning myself to the pain and weakness I’ve been resisting. At least, that’s what it sounds like to me.
But I don’t want anyone else to suffer. Even if these seven days do nothing, they’ll at least keep me from endangering my colleagues for a while.
I sink back into the chair. Once again, I can’t bring myself to look Dennis in the eye when I speak.
“Maybe you’d better.”
~
The afternoon is ending when I finally leave headquarters. After picking up some sleep meds, I rode my motorcycle over to Linkon Central Park. Now, I’m looking out over the lake as I walk the path around it. It’s better than being cooped up in my apartment and at least, it’s peaceful here. The sun, already lowering, turns the water gold as a cool breeze disturbs the surface. It stirs up a whisper in the trees.
I sit down on the first bench I can find, still looking at the lake as I draw my knees up under my chin. Pulling out my notebook and a pencil, I flip open to one of the last pages. It’s where I’ve been identifying – or at least, trying to identify – the things that trigger my episodes. It isn’t long before I’m laughing at myself over how random and ridiculous they are.
Linkon City Chapel (Too often – something about that big, white building with its spires and its murals deeply unsettles me)
Churches in general (Often-ish? Sometimes bad, sometimes just familiar)
Riding my motorcycle (Sometimes, depends on what I’m thinking of)
Fighting Wanderers (Hit or miss, but with grave consequences)
Flowers (Kinda often? Often enough, but inconsistent)
Some pieces of classical music (But who doesn’t get a little sad with those?)
Children at the park playing with fake swords (Haven’t seen this since the first time – probably tied to the arena memory)
Mountains (Sometimes)
Pomegranates (Often - yeah, can’t explain this one)
Dreams (Sometimes)
After a second, I add something new to the list. Something that should have been there from the very beginning. I just hadn’t wanted to acknowledge it.
Sylus
I stare at his faintly penciled-in name, hesitant. If Dennis asks to review my list and he sees the leader of Onychinus on it, the Assocation’s most wanted man…
Yeah, no. Not a smart move. With a few swipes of the eraser, Sylus disappears from the list.
Suddenly my right pocket buzzes. Reaching in, I pull out my phone and check the caller ID. Speak of the devil.
I resist the urge to answer. It’s been a few weeks since we last talked and I’d love nothing more than to connect with him again. But after today’s mission and Dennis’s words, I look at his name and all I can think about is the truth he won’t give me. I don’t trust myself to hide what I feel on a regular basis. With other people, at least I have a better chance of keeping secrets. But Sylus sees through everyone’s secrets and lies. Even if he doesn’t pry, he’ll know something is off.
I wait until I see the voicemail notification. Unlocking my phone, I hit play and immediately, Sylus’s smooth, low voice emanates from the palm of my hand.
“A little bird told me you’ve been given a surprise vacation.”
Mephisto! Miffed, I look up at the sky to see if any crows are flying nearby. I guess that little monster was watching me this morning after all.
“I don’t know your plans for this much-needed time off,” Sylus continues. “But you should know the datura won’t bloom for much longer. They’ll soon be gone with the first autumn frost. It would be a shame if they didn’t get to see your face one last time.”
I can’t help smiling as he laughs at himself.
“All this to say you’re more than welcome at my estate. I’ve been forced to lay low here for a while, which is why we haven’t seen each other.”
Silence on his end. I check to see that the voicemail hasn’t ended. It’s still going, but he doesn’t say anything for the longest time.
“To be honest, I was hoping you’d get a chance to steal away,” he admits. He suddenly sounds weary, like he hasn’t slept for a week. “The days are always a little slower when you’re not around. Even my dreams don’t last long enough for me to find you before waking up. I miss you. More than that…I need you.”
The seriousness of those last three words chill me. I sit up straight.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself, kitten. There are no Wanderers here. And this isn’t a ploy to make you my accomplice for yet another escapade.” He draws a ragged breath. “It’s my Aether Core. It sensed fluctuations from an unknown source and now its desire is strong again. I’ve done what I can to keep it at bay, but…I’m burning up. Nothing else is enough. I need you.”
My breath catches. Sylus doesn’t spell it out, but then, he doesn’t have to.
The first time this happened, I was so worried about him. Locked in a days-long fever, he struggled as his Aether Core seethed in its unfulfilled desire. His interests waned and his appetite nearly vanished. I was desperate to figure out how to help him. Even when I did, he refused to keep resonating with me, saying it was too addictive and therefore dangerous. Though the experience shook me, I feared our resonance was the only way to bring down his fever. I was prepared to risk it.
But I was wrong. There was another way and I found it out when I finally understood what the Aether Core desired.
Me. It wanted to consume me. So I let it.
Heat floods my senses as I remember those breathless moments with Sylus. My fingers trembling in his silver white hair, his strong arms full of need, though they’d already trapped me in his searing embrace. His red eyes flashing in the dark – the right one even more as the Aether Core’s hungry fire blazed within it. Every one of his claiming kisses scorched my skin. My sighs only kindled the burning greed in his hands.
Even if I should have, I didn’t fear the Aether Core’s heartless craving. I, too, have an Aether Core with desires of its own. It seeks to use me for its own ends. Yet I withstand it all this while. Through facing mine, I gained the strength to face his. The risk was worth it in the end, anyway. After that night, his fever was gone and the Aether Core was satisfied. Or at least, as close to satisfied as it was allowed to get.
And if things were different right now, I wouldn’t hesitate to run back to him and see him through the night.
But after a day like today…
“I won’t ask much of you. The Association works you to death these days – I wouldn’t want to deprive you of rest. But if I had you by my side…if I could see you, touch you, and know you were there, I’d be more at ease.” A moment passes before he says in a hushed tone, “Don’t keep your distance, kitten.”
When the message ends, I stare down at my phone. Seconds tick on by as I struggle to figure out my next move. The more I think that I should go to him, the more I fear what might happen. If an episode strikes and I can’t control myself, no white lies and half-truths can protect me. I can’t stay with him if my anguish will only be met with more guarded silence.
Without knowledge of the past, there’s no hope for me at all.
No hope.
No one.
…alone.
I tap to call Sylus back. A couple walks by as I bring the phone to my ear, their smiles and adoring gazes uncomplicated by such things as broken memory or destiny. Ignoring a pang of envy, I steel myself just before Sylus picks up.
“Hey. I just listened to your message,” I say before he can speak.
“And…?”
“I – I’ve missed you so much and I want to help you. Really, I do. It’s just…” Words fail as the weight of the day and my own anxiety cave in on me. “I’m not much good for anyone right now. I don’t want to let you down.”
“Sounds like you’ve had a troubling day.”
“Is it that obvious?”
“Your voice betrays you, kitten,” he replies with a small laugh. “It often does.”
Relenting, I admit, “Yeah, it was awful.”
“Do you want to talk about it? I have plenty of time to listen.”
“But you’re miserable. Won’t you feel worse hearing about my day?”
“You couldn’t make me feel worse if you tried.” When he speaks again, his calm sincerity wraps itself around my heart. “I mean it. If it’s weighing down on your mind, I’ll listen.”
Unable to resist, I decide there’s no point in hiding part of the truth.
“My mission was kind of a disaster. A couple of Luminivores were too close to populated areas. Simone and I were sent to handle them, and when we drove them back into a No-Hunt Zone, one of them got Simone pretty bad.” I look out over the lake, swallowing hard. “It’s my fault she’s hurt.”
“Why do you say that?”
“I didn’t get back on my feet fast enough. If I had, she’d be okay.” Sighing, I add, “I mean, she’ll live, but she won’t be in the field for a while.”
“An incident like that could happen to anyone.”
“Sylus, you know the kind of hunter I am. I’m better than that.”
“Doesn’t mean you’re above making mistakes,” he counters. “Besides, she’s alive. Isn’t that what matters most?”
Everyone keeps trying to remind me of that, don’t they? I can’t help but laugh. “That’s like what Dennis said to–”
My whole body freezes. How could I give away my counselor’s name so freely? Hoping Sylus isn’t too curious, I try maintaining an easy manner of speaking. “I mean, you’re right. I suppose it does. I’m just upset that I let her get hurt in the first place.”
A shriek nearby makes me jump. Looking around, I expect a struggle or someone getting hurt. But it’s just the couple from before. Out in the grass, the woman’s shrill laughter pierces the air as her lover grabs her waist and spins her around. He sneaks a kiss on her head before they both fall down, surrounded by the last clover flowers of the year.
Their normal, carefree happiness tugs at something deep within me.
Suddenly I’m aware that Sylus has been silent this whole time. Worried, I pull my attention away from the couple. “Sylus?”
“Don’t worry, kitten. I’m here.”
“Why were you quiet all of a sudden?”
“I was trying to recall who Dennis is,” he replies, almost musing to himself. “Luke and Kieran love to use Association staff for characters when they play Guess Who...I know I heard them say that name when they played it last night.”
I blink, dumbfounded. His favorite henchmen always tend to be a little ridiculous, but this? My mind can’t fathom those two in their dark get-up and crow masks using my colleagues for a silly little game.
“They play Guess Who?” I ask incredulously.
“Only when they run out of fun or useful things to do.”
For a brief second, I almost think he’s given up. Just when I’m about to stop holding my breath, I hear him chuckle.
“Now I remember. Dennis is in the Association’s mental health department, right?”
“Yes, he’s a counselor.” I hesitate. He’d find out anyway, wouldn’t he? There’s no point hiding this truth, either. “I’ve had sessions with him since…well, not long after the Zoion Hunt.”
“I see.”
“It’s nothing serious! I mean, what I’m getting counseling for is nothing serious. I’m fine and everything is under control. It’s just–”
“You don’t have to justify or explain anything. I won’t pry,” he says gently. “What matters is if the counseling is helping you. Do you think it is?”
“I –yeah.” I don’t sound very convincing, but I can’t do better than this. And I don’t want to worry Sylus with my therapeutic frustrations. “Yeah. Of course, it is.”
My eyes wander back to the couple in the grass. The man lies with his arms behind his head. Next to him, the woman picks wild clover and weaves the fuzzy violet blooms into a chain. It’s long enough already that the end of it coils across his chest. Bringing the chain near his face, he closes his eyes and breathes in the flowers.
When he looks at her again, his dark eyes beam as if she reflects the entire universe back at him. As if all the stars live within her.
It’s beautiful.
But it’s sad. It’s so, so sad.
Why?
When I speak again, I feel a familiar tightness in my ribcage. It’s hard to breathe. “Sylus?”
“Yes?”
“I –” The sting of tears enters my eyes. I quickly blink them away. “Sorry. I’m trying to figure out how I want to say this.”
“I’m still here.”
It takes a moment to steady my breath and find the right words. Still, Sylus doesn’t rush me and doesn’t attempt to fill in the empty space between us. He simply waits.
“Say you were in great pain,” I begin. “You’re not sure what’s causing it, but you know the source is locked up in a vault. If you could unlock this vault and see what’s inside, you’d be free of that pain.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“But you also know that this same vault is protected by dozens, probably hundreds of locks. It could take a lifetime to unlock them all and even then …” I falter, suddenly afraid of giving myself away. So I end by asking, “Would you still try to open it?”
“This sounds less like a hypothetical scenario and more like a metaphor.” I close my eyes when, soft as a whisper, he says, “You don’t need to speak to me in riddles. Are you alright?”
It hurts to release the long sigh that’s been building up in me. I want to trust him like I have with all my other problems. More than anything.
This’ll just have to be another one of those things I tough out on my own.
“It doesn’t matter,” I say. “It’s nothing I can’t handle.”
“There’s no shame in asking for help. You know I’m here for you.”
“I don’t know that you…I really don’t think there’s anything you can do to help.”
“You sound so certain,” he says, concern creeping in. “Haven’t I seen you through hard times before?”
“This is different. This is–” Breathing in deeply, I steel myself yet again, glaring into the setting sun. “Anyway, I’ve changed my mind. I don’t know when I’ll get there, but I’m headed your way.”
“Listen–”
“I’m the only one who can help you right now, Sylus. We both know that.” I don’t give him the option of responding or refuting me. “What I’m dealing with doesn’t matter as much to me as ending your misery. Besides…I want to see you, too. If I don’t come down now, how much longer will it be until we get another chance?”
I end the call and turn off my phone.
Rising from the bench, I don’t return to the parking lot just yet. I take in the last of the setting sun as it turns the lake fiery red, the ripples gleaming like jewels. Before it completely mesmerizes me, I look back at the grass where the couple was. Only a faint indentation shows they were ever there, nestled among the last summer flowers. But even the autumn wind is smoothing out that evidence.
If I’m relieved they’re gone…why does their sudden disappearance make me want to fall apart?
Does it even matter?
Shadows stretch and crawl closer as I walk back to my motorcycle. Pushing aside all other thoughts, I end up remembering the very dream I thought of this morning. As I relive the fall in my mind, I see reality flickering between two worlds. I feel the intensity of Sylus’s gaze. And again, that creeping sense of familiarity.
A certain scene becomes clear as day for a moment.
Falling through mountains. Valleys of flowers scattered under the moonlight, getting closer with every racing second. My heart pounds, but even as I fall, I somehow know this isn’t the end. Sylus’s eyes tell me that he, too, doesn’t fear death. Drowning in their red light, the world around me fades back into the darkness of lost memories.
It is peaceful.
But unease returns as it switches to the fall in the horrible memory I relived at Simone’s side. Much of those moments is too blurry or cut up to see. But through it all, I know something is wrong. The more of Sylus I try to remember, the more my stomach twists into knots.
My knuckles tighten over the handlebars.
Gritting my teeth, I hang on tight as I shoot out of Linkon, the road flying beneath me. Lamplights quickly become fewer and farther between, leaving me in longer gaps of darkness. Every aching muscle strains against the storm of shattered memories raging inside me. It’s all I can do not to scream.
I have to leave this all behind me. At least for a week. Maybe I can look at Sylus’s datura and the flowers’ beauty will overpower any other feelings. Or losing myself in his arms could make me forget all that troubles me for a while.
It could be enough.
For the rest of my ride, however, the rush of the wind keeps reminding me of everything I’m running from. Awake or asleep, remembering or not, I cannot escape the fall.