Once Time Passed (A Burdened Novel Book 4), page 34
Nathan snorts. “I’m just a beast impersonating a man. That’s all I want. A life of a fake appearance with my mate and I, where we can live without watching our back or hopes for peace. Peace is all I want.”
“If peace is what you desire, peace is what you should provide yourself, but you know the cost.” Chislon looks my direction, meeting my eyes. “She means the world to you. However, you’ll soon discover the cost of holding on to her.”
I jump out of the truck and quickly cross the ground to them. “What’s the cost?”
Chislon snatches my wrist and turns my hand palm up. “You are a gift to your mate. An accord if you will for a paramount being that cherishes you too much and too little. Your life holds one reason to his purpose on this earth, as mother Elbany held to her people. To provide. The more you give, the more he takes.”
I wrench my writ from his grasp. I’ve always known Nathan and I fuel each other. Those are the ins and outs of being bound, we perish without one another and are our best when together. What is the difference here? “So, I’m my mate’s source of energy?”
Chislon’s blank expression turns to one of curiosity. “You find nothing wrong of being a source.”
“I don’t understand,” I correct.
“It’s not your story, Sparks. It’s mine. Exactly like what you predicted.”
“So, what does that mean?”
Nathan shrugs. “I’m not sure. But I need you.”
Chislon laughs once. The leer he gives Nathan is degrading. “You have no idea.” In a blink, he evaporates into a line of mist that sails away with the wind.
“He’s just going to leave without giving us any more detail. To just tell me I’m some kind of fuel source for you and then nothing!” I shout, pointing the direction Chislon blew. “I hate his help!”
“Sparky.” Nathan takes me by my shoulder and a calm washes over me. “Bring it down a bit.” It’s a calm from his touch that I used to crave, but now find controlling. And it’s not that I hate Nathan can ‘control.’ He’s always snuck inside of my mind or body and altered one thing or another, from my feelings to a comforting thought when it was too hard to let go alone. The problem is—
“That I can do to everyone else? And you think I’m going to side with the evil, forgetting our good.”
A sigh slumps my shoulders. “I just don’t want you to let this power go to your head and you forget that you’re not what they are making you to be. Not a monster, not a knight, not a tool. You’re Nathan.”
“And that’s what you see,” he finishes. “I’m fighting for you. And you’re fighting for them. We know you won’t let me make the wrong choice.”
Nodding, “I won’t.”
Part III
Two Halves = One Whole
Dive
Nathan
The issue with my mother’s knowledge is, though she knew there were barriers I couldn’t cross, and restriction over me, she never told me I shouldn’t. I was taught to be cautious. She thought that was more important than telling me never to mate. It’s impossible to never mate. What fate wants, fate gets. Maybe, she knew that. But, maybe she knew something else too. Something she’s left out of the dos and don’ts.
From birth, my father has tried to kill me, but not just for me being Burdened, but because of what I can become. If I’m greater than a Burdened Sephlem, some kind of knight for the Qualm resistance for the people, that’s a new one on me. I’m not interested in being a hero, to anyone.
So, which is it? The Seeing of Death, or this white knight? These are likely the choices they’ve been talking about. Had this been just over seven years ago, I’d opt to hold every being’s life in my hands. To call shots on their lives with the snap of my finger. I would’ve loved that kind of power. To sway a feeling and rob anyone of their free will to do as I saw fit, to live as I pleased. I would’ve given my life for that kind of ability. Now, though, life is too precious. And knowing what it feels like for someone else to hold my life in their hands, for someone else to give me life. Something so fragile shouldn’t belong to a man so selfish. It doesn’t belong to someone who’s focus in life is power. I don’t crave power to that extent. I don’t want it.
So, I’m a knight. A warrior for a greater good. Shit. . .
It’s time for a change.
I flip the hourglass over and hold it in my right hand. What Tracey saw as sand, are souls, tiny bodies mourning, falling through the center, hanging onto the one above, all fearful to land. They don’t belong to anyone specific, their more so for warning, reminding me of what I really am. Death. I am a beast that requires his mate to become a king, maybe a god even, who has the ability to make or break anyone. I’m considering smashing it when Trevor sits beside me, sat on a couch in the living room of my mother’s house.
“Whoa!” he exclaims. “That’s the coolest thing I’ve ever seen!” he reaches for it, and I pass it to him. My first instinct is to warn him to be careful, but a little damage will do it some good.
“What do you see?”
“Everything,” he whispers. “The sand’s the colors of the universe. It even sparks with stars and shooting meters.” He turns it over and over. “It just keeps going.”
“It’s magic,” I admit. “It shows you answers to your unknown questions. Answers are your greatest desire right now. You want to know why something would come and turn your world upside down, so, your response is the answers to the universe. Only a high power would know why the Qualms attacked your town first, why their trying to invade our word period. Why those things exist.”
My response breaks the hypnosis the hourglass has on him. “Are you going to do anything to help? I know you can. I can see it in you. After what you did today, you’re probably able to do anything. Like, save everyone.”
“What you see in my eyes is confusion and misunderstanding. Not a hero.”
“Not a villain either. You saved me from those things in my old neighborhood. Someone with that kind of power to blind eyes and change minds shouldn’t sit on it. They are taking over the world and you can stop them. So, stop them.”
“What if stopping them cost the life of something you loved?”
Trevor hands back the hourglass. He shrugs. “A million people are in love with someone at this very moment. They are at risk to losing their loves any day now, depending on how fast those things are moving. Is your single love greater than a million?” Leaving, he adds, “You don’t seem that selfish. But that’s a hard question to answer when you’re battling for something like love. Maybe, instead, battle for life.” He nods, “Life will have more chances at love than love alone.”
I shove my hands through my hair and mutter to myself. “If I were required to let go of Tracey at the cost of saving others, that is life, she is love. And I only get a chance at it once.”
Feeding from Tracey did something to me. I knew it would. But it’s heightened me beyond my knowledge. It’s advanced me and there’s no more denying who I am.
I’m going to do something. I’m going to take down the Qualms, Lunis, and my father.
Wake Me Up
Nathan
The sun is breaking light across the sky, and the birds bring me back to life from a horrific sleep. I’ve fallen asleep outside for the second night in a row, and for the third morning in row, Tracey’s gone.
The last few days, I’ve given her some space, leaving myself available for when she wants my company, though I crave for hers. And she has a few times, but as much as things have changed for me, they’re changing for her too. I can just sense she’s different.
I find her at the neighborhood park, swinging. She feels my approach before I’m a foot to her. I’m so connected to her, the rush from her high swings and the heavy wind encases me as if I were on that swing. Her feet drag in the sand to stop herself. I take the swing beside her. “What you doing?” I ask.
“Just hanging around. Can I show you something? I woke up this morning and didn’t want to bother you with it. But, it’s been creeping me out.”
“What’s up?”
Tracey gets off the swing and takes my hand. She pulls me with her to the center of the nearest street. Closing her eyes, she clutches my hand tighter and brings it before us. Some kind of invisible shield press against my palm. I push against it and bring my free hand to join. “What’s going on?” Everything looks normal, but, it’s as if a glass wall was before us, in the middle of the street.
“Wait,” she states. “Watch this.” She digs in her pocket, grabs a rock, and throws it at the barrier. It flies down the street, unaffected.
I stand, too stunned to understand. Stepping back forward, I throw a fist forward, but Tracey catches me by the arm. “Slow down, Rocky. You’re going to hurt yourself. Focus. Will a greater sight.”
I breathe and drag a sleeping ability to my mind’s eye. Without needing to tap into Tracey, my vision blurs and with little effort it clears though slightly differs in shade.
“Tell me you see this?” Tracey asks, desperation making her heart speed up.
I scan the replica of this neighborhood but it’s dreary and in parish. Bathed in a shade of blue, it’s the sun blotched and shining an unusual blue hue that bleeds this color onto the land. The homes are built of wood logs instead of brick and some have golden ribbons tied around their door knobs while others are black.
To Tracey I mutter, “Yeah. I see it.”
“Remember the invisible wall? Now try.”
I lift my hand but press against nothing, and I step forward, leaving my world behind. “Okay. What the hell is going on?”
She shakes her head. “I wasn’t able to do that. I could just see it. I was hoping you could, and it’s working.”
I extend my hand, and she follows me through. In the middle of nothing, an oval window-like space, like window, looks to where we just. . . Entered? Around it waves, slowly, like water, just as it did back Amelia’s.
For a while, we roam the deserted streets paved with dirt and debris as we creep in the town’s silence, shooting daring glances at each other when one of us breathes too loudly. Our eyes are piled for anything and anyone. A piece of me is hoping something tries to attack us.
It’s not easy to tell the time of day with the blue-hue-sun stagnant in the sky, half rose. We crossover familiar streets, names the same as, home. It’s when we make it to our house that we finally stop. Beyond the house, the lake that should be here is dried up. We enter with a simple push against the door.
It’s empty.
Oddly, it feels safer to speak when Tracey closes the door. “Where are we?”
“You got me.”
There’s a knock on the door.
Tracey jumps and crosses the floor to me as she’s warming her hands and preparing her attack. Hand on the door knob, she says, “Wait. I know that presence.” Hurriedly, she crosses the floor and rips the door open.
The man on the other side states, “You did it! You found him! I must tell everyone.”
“No,” Tracey whispers harshly. She yanks the man in the house and shuts the door. “Where are we?”
The man, dressed in gold, meets my eyes. He says, “We have waited a long time for you, Nathan.” He looks me over. “You don’t appear ready.”
“Somebody tell me what’s going on,” I say.
“This is Karthik,” Tracey says. “He looked more human the last time I saw him, but I didn’t believe he was.”
He’s a Qualm, but like Chislon, dressed in white-gold robe.
“I was a passer. I’ve now repaid my debt and am no more. Please.” He motions to a couch in the nearby living room not far from the front door, like the home Tracey and I shared. “Welcome,” he starts. “This is our world—realm of the universe, one you’ve been lucky to avoid. You’ve arrived on a lighter day. But, I presume you’ve come to set us free?”
“Set you free from what?”
“Our hell. We desire to be equal as others who have lived among your earth are. You have come to break the barrier between our realms. You have come to set us free.”
Tracey shakes her head, saying, “If there is a barrier, it’s there for a reason. And we have no intention of breaking it.”
“No disrespect, Sight. However, that is not your call. Please,” he requests. “Allow me the opportunity to show you some things.”
On the other side of the neighborhood, where corner stores and motel line the street, Karthik give us a tour of their run-down city. “I miss the breeze,” he says, dragging the back of his hand across his neck. “There’s never one here.”
“I’ve noticed,” Tracey utters, flapping her shirt by its helm.
“You see,” Karthick starts, “It’s the same but major things are different.” He points across the street to a couple sitting on the curb, one clutching the other in their lap. They cry for the other to hold on, but by the looks of their limp body. “Our people are dying.”
“People,” Tracey retorts. “You’re calling these Qualms people?”
Karthick shoots me a glance before accommodating a confirming smile. “We believe we should embrace our future in the way the hosts would express themselves. You would not say, the human race is dying. You’d say we are dying.”
“But, you’re not people.”
“Not yet,” Karthick says with a single nod. “But, soon, we will be. It’s been promised. We cannot live without the latching on to someone of life. We are made up of half the life humans are provided, if we could only acquire another half, we can live a fuller life too. I see no wrong in that. We’d enhance our host as well. This is beneficial for everyone.”
“You’re stealing someone’s life!” Tracey objects. “That’s wrong.”
Karthick shakes his head and gives us a reassuring smile. “Not with Nathan,” he admires. “With him, without pain or decision, we can be inserted into another like that,” he snaps his fingers. “No one will feel any pain or discomfort. We will live among the living as required for our persistence.” He waves us onward. “See,” he points to a group of humans. They’re obvious to the eye, without cloaks and their internal desire to rise against the Qualms and take back their world. Humans cower in shadows and as we pass, they try to hide their faces.
Down a side walk, in a rundown overpass crowded with homeless humans, one grabs Tracey’s wrist. I race to her side ready to turn the aggressive son of bitch into nothing.
“Please,” he begs. “We’ve been banished because we choose not to abide by the new ruling. Don’t hurt us any further. We’re only human.” He takes a knife and is prepared to cut his arm to prove it.
Tracey squats down. “Don’t.” She looks over the boy sitting beside the man dressed in rags and sandals. To him, she asks, “What’s your name?”
The boy grabs on to his father’s arm, hiding behind it as he whispers, “Fred.”
“You’re hungry? Fred.”
He eagerly nods. “Father won’t allow us into the city.” He points to another small group of four far behind them. Maybe his siblings and a woman who can pass for their mother. “It’s gotten too bad for people like us. I don’t want to die, so we go hungry. The weaker we are, the less they won’t us. They think it means we won’t last long.” Nodding he adds, “They want the longer lasting ones.”
Tracey snags the last of our food from her back pocket. A granola bar. She hands it to the boy. “You don’t have to go hungry to stay safe. We’re here now,” she promises, and I doubt she knows what that means or what our being here entails.
Through two more small towns, it’s like this. Homeless humans cower in over ground sewers, abandoned underpasses, dark alleys. They don’t beg and do their best to avoid eye contact. Though vacant buildings crowd the town, they are residents of the streets
The dreary sun’s falling beneath the earth and the warm air is starting to cool. In another small town, we stride the street and come up on a square. Unlike the places we’ve been before, humans cheer and dance in the town’s center. They don’t share the fear the others have displayed, and gleefulness comforts their eager presence.
In an instant, their gazes attack me and smiles lift their faces. They cheer with abundance. “Sir,” they call. “It’s been so long.”
I deny, “I’m not whoever you think I am,” waving my hand to keep them back
“You have saved our ancestors once, and you will save us again.” A man with a gray beard and tired eyes, steps before them. “If you chose not to help us here, they will come to your world and you will become like the humans here. Your people will beg to be left alone, depriving themselves from the goodness of the earth as not be desired by the evil that takes over the land. They will be gods to your people and you will be to blame.”
A girl pulls his long robe. She whispers low, “Just because he looks like the white knight and answers to the same name doesn’t make him the person who is on our side. We must be careful with him as well. Remember, Behold, a pale horse, and its rider’s name was death, and hell followed him. Don’t giveaway too much. Should he choose the other side, he’ll use it against us.”
“We won’t,” Tracey speaks up. “We won’t use anything against you.”
I’m shaking my head, backing away from the growing crowd that’s pointing and aweing. They go on and on about how I’m here to finally save them, how I’m supposed to make sure no one else suffers the wrath of the Qualms, how I’m to risk everything for them.
“Sparks,” I call. “We need to go home. I can’t stay here.”
Tracey takes my hands in hers. “You’re shaking.”
“Just get us out of here.”
With a stealthy concentration, she blinks and we’re back in our colorful town, sun setting, casting rays of colors over the streets and houses. Tracey rubs my shoulders. “You okay?”
