Page 148
Story: This Vicious Dream
“I do not know. It is likely.”
“And you were cursed too. By your siblings?”
“Yes. Calpharos went to a seer who told him that one of Anarthys’s acolytes would be his soulmate. Meanwhile, Anarthys received a vision of her own—one that made her desperate to learn what it was that Calpharos’s seer had seen. Anarthys knew the seer’s vision would make Calpharos break from her for eternity.”
“And Calpharos learned what she had done.”
“Yes. That was the day he insisted on going directly to her temple—the first time he saw you.”
“And then Anarthys learned who I was.”
“Yes. She tortured the seer until she told the goddess of Calpharos’s prophecy. The seer gave Anarthys enough information to lead her to believe you were his soulmate. And then one of the other acolytes told the goddess you had been seen with Calpharos, confirming her suspicions.”
Yalanda.
“Anarthys had been plotting, working with our siblings. If my brother didn’t choose her, she would have her revenge,” Eamonn says. “Our other siblings learned I had tried to save you. They knew my loyalty would always be to Calpharos, so they bound my powers, took my true form from me, and banished me to this world. It took centuries for me to find my twin. And that’s when I learned they had also found a way to prevent me from telling him who he was.”
“I just…I don’t understand. I’ve heard about how powerful the dark god is so many times. How were they able to…”
“You.” There’s no blame in Eamonn’s voice, but I flinch anyway. When he looks up at me, I don’t see his canine form at all. I see the man who attempted to save my life. His eyes may be different, but they still hold that same kindness.
“Me?”
“Calpharos used so much of his power attempting to kill Anarthys to avenge your death, he was weakened. You were the one chink in his armor. The one weakness he had never before shown. You were his undoing.”
“And his enemies struck at the first sign of that weakness. No wonder he wants his revenge.”
But there’s one thing I don’t understand. The Calpharos from my memories—and I’m still attempting to accept those memories—was kinder. Gentler. Oh, he’d terrified the sheltered, innocent woman I’d been. But he’d intrigued her too.
The glimpses I’ve seen of Calpharos so far have been of a man so entirelyotherthat he sends a chill down my spine. The Calpharos I saw in the swamp when he took the grimoire…there was nothing redeeming about him. Nothing soft. He radiated a predatory cruelty, an all-encompassing rage that warned that any who attempted to stop him would die.
“What are you thinking?” Eamonn asks.
Idly, I stroke his head, scratching him behind the ear, and his eyes turn heavy lidded.
I fill him in, and he sighs. “You have to understand. His last memories of his true self were directly after you were taken from him. Losing you before he ever truly knew you…watching you die in front of him… he will never be the man he was again.”
“And he wants revenge.”
“Yes. Our siblings didn’t have enough power to kill him—or they would have removed him as a threat for good. Instead, they merely bought themselves time. With every grimoire, he will remember more, will be able to access more of his power. And when he is unleashed…”
I shake my head. “Do you understand why I need to stop him?”
“I understand that this world has been terrible to you.” His voice turns hard. “You have suffered great losses. And still, you would protect it.”
“You’ve walked in this world for centuries. Can you truly tell me the innocents here deserve to die?”
A long pause. “No. Our only hope is that Calpharos remembers who you are to him.”
If I told him, would he believe me? What would I say?Hello Calpharos, it turns out I’m your…soulmate. And I need you to give up your revenge for me.
I know exactly how hot the flames of vengeance burn. They flicker within me even now. For Vicana. For her witch. And for that bitch goddess who stabbed me in the heart.
Because I am not the innocent, sheltered acolyte who knelt at Anarthys’s feet and allowed herself to be killed. Not inthislife.
All the suffering and pain has hardened me. It shaped me into a survivor.
What if I tell Calysian, and he goes for the grimoire anyway? Telling him he lost his soulmate could make him even more eager to get to his grimoire and take back his power. He’d be one step closer to getting his revenge—a revenge that could ruin this world.
“And you were cursed too. By your siblings?”
“Yes. Calpharos went to a seer who told him that one of Anarthys’s acolytes would be his soulmate. Meanwhile, Anarthys received a vision of her own—one that made her desperate to learn what it was that Calpharos’s seer had seen. Anarthys knew the seer’s vision would make Calpharos break from her for eternity.”
“And Calpharos learned what she had done.”
“Yes. That was the day he insisted on going directly to her temple—the first time he saw you.”
“And then Anarthys learned who I was.”
“Yes. She tortured the seer until she told the goddess of Calpharos’s prophecy. The seer gave Anarthys enough information to lead her to believe you were his soulmate. And then one of the other acolytes told the goddess you had been seen with Calpharos, confirming her suspicions.”
Yalanda.
“Anarthys had been plotting, working with our siblings. If my brother didn’t choose her, she would have her revenge,” Eamonn says. “Our other siblings learned I had tried to save you. They knew my loyalty would always be to Calpharos, so they bound my powers, took my true form from me, and banished me to this world. It took centuries for me to find my twin. And that’s when I learned they had also found a way to prevent me from telling him who he was.”
“I just…I don’t understand. I’ve heard about how powerful the dark god is so many times. How were they able to…”
“You.” There’s no blame in Eamonn’s voice, but I flinch anyway. When he looks up at me, I don’t see his canine form at all. I see the man who attempted to save my life. His eyes may be different, but they still hold that same kindness.
“Me?”
“Calpharos used so much of his power attempting to kill Anarthys to avenge your death, he was weakened. You were the one chink in his armor. The one weakness he had never before shown. You were his undoing.”
“And his enemies struck at the first sign of that weakness. No wonder he wants his revenge.”
But there’s one thing I don’t understand. The Calpharos from my memories—and I’m still attempting to accept those memories—was kinder. Gentler. Oh, he’d terrified the sheltered, innocent woman I’d been. But he’d intrigued her too.
The glimpses I’ve seen of Calpharos so far have been of a man so entirelyotherthat he sends a chill down my spine. The Calpharos I saw in the swamp when he took the grimoire…there was nothing redeeming about him. Nothing soft. He radiated a predatory cruelty, an all-encompassing rage that warned that any who attempted to stop him would die.
“What are you thinking?” Eamonn asks.
Idly, I stroke his head, scratching him behind the ear, and his eyes turn heavy lidded.
I fill him in, and he sighs. “You have to understand. His last memories of his true self were directly after you were taken from him. Losing you before he ever truly knew you…watching you die in front of him… he will never be the man he was again.”
“And he wants revenge.”
“Yes. Our siblings didn’t have enough power to kill him—or they would have removed him as a threat for good. Instead, they merely bought themselves time. With every grimoire, he will remember more, will be able to access more of his power. And when he is unleashed…”
I shake my head. “Do you understand why I need to stop him?”
“I understand that this world has been terrible to you.” His voice turns hard. “You have suffered great losses. And still, you would protect it.”
“You’ve walked in this world for centuries. Can you truly tell me the innocents here deserve to die?”
A long pause. “No. Our only hope is that Calpharos remembers who you are to him.”
If I told him, would he believe me? What would I say?Hello Calpharos, it turns out I’m your…soulmate. And I need you to give up your revenge for me.
I know exactly how hot the flames of vengeance burn. They flicker within me even now. For Vicana. For her witch. And for that bitch goddess who stabbed me in the heart.
Because I am not the innocent, sheltered acolyte who knelt at Anarthys’s feet and allowed herself to be killed. Not inthislife.
All the suffering and pain has hardened me. It shaped me into a survivor.
What if I tell Calysian, and he goes for the grimoire anyway? Telling him he lost his soulmate could make him even more eager to get to his grimoire and take back his power. He’d be one step closer to getting his revenge—a revenge that could ruin this world.
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