Page 52 of Bonds of Starfall

It wouldn’t be long before the Somnocept took effect. A sleep drug that Blackfall Industries had perfected. Coincidentally, with the perfect test subjects—Sabine’s own son and his little Soulbond, who used to show up, wide-eyed and sweet, knocking on their front door with an overnight bag tucked on her shoulder. Side effects were practically nonexistent, save for the occasional headache or brain fog once it wore off, and long-term use rarely resulted in dependency. This made Somnocept the perfect drug to slip into a grieving, desperate Vesperin’s water.

It had been a week since the funeral. It was time to stop playing games.

Sabine smiled as she chewed, barely tasting the spices of the eggplant pieces she brought to her lips.

With Kiton no longer an issue, Sabine and Talor had no one to stop them from this: science.

Research on Aetherborns and artificial Nova.

No one knew the true origins of the Nova that ran rampant on Earth, corrupting Souls and wreaking havoc. Sabine and her husbanddid, however. A mimicry of the power that floated within the Celestials, godly beings who were so ancient, so timeless, that they had been all but forgotten. Sabine certainly would have forgotten about them in this life, too, if not for the thousands of years of memories that had slammed into her head when she first met Talor—when she had been a young student, ripe with potential, desperate to study science and research. She had met Talor when she had needed him most. As soon as their hands had brushed, memories had made them fall to their knees. Memories of what they had been trying to accomplish, life after life.

Their fight to create Nova had taken many lives—theirs and others’—until finally, it was born, when Earth was young and science was new. No one knew what the effects would be, not until the first Soul had been corrupted. As countless centuries—millennia—had passed, Sabine and Talor’s work had taken hold of the Earth, changing it irrevocably into what it was today. Their actions in a past life had caused this. Chaos.

The creation of Nova was not pure, not like the true Nova of the Celestials, and their creation had not been without a cost. It was a cost Sabine would pay repeatedly if it meant she was closer to what she truly sought: immortality.

Trueimmortality.

Sabine was so sick and tired of living and dying and living and dying, forgetting and remembering… She wanted it to be over. She wanted to have one life, everlasting.

The key was not just the Nova, but the Aetherborns—Sabine was sure of it.

When the artificial Nova was implanted within an Aetherborn, the reaction caused an increase in Stella levels. The Stella mutated, becoming stronger, better. Which, she surmised, could eventually lead to accelerated healing, immunity to illnesses, longer lives, and hopefully, mutation for absolute immortality. Only theorized, however.

All the Aetherborn subjects had died within a year.

But not Vesperin. She was different. Five years and counting. Though, if the doctor was to be believed, Vesperin’s years were running out.

At first, Sabine and Talor had no intentions of using their son’s Soulbond for research, but desperate times, and all that.

They didn’t implant the Nova within her, resigning themselves to normal experimentation on a natural Aetherborn… Her Stella levels were off the charts, her lives innumerable—like Sabine’s, in a way.

Vesperin had been the perfect little subject.

Then, the accident, when fate had aligned so perfectly that they had no choice but to snatch up the opportunity to adopt the orphaned Aetherborn and take her into their home. The Nova that had infused within her from the accident had been the catalyst that allowed Sabine and Talor to understand that Nova should not be introduced within a lab, but fused through natural events. They hadn’t planned the explosion five years ago, but sometimes Sabine wished they had.

This life… this big house, expensive jewelry, nice cars, parties—it was but one life in an array of hundreds. Thousands, even. Sabine had lost count somewhere along the way. They were… blessed.

Sabine hid her smile behind another bite of food, making small talk with Vesperin, playing the role of caring, compassionate, grieving mother.

The girl barely looked up from her plate, using her fork to shove her food around. She had lost weight in the past week. That wouldn’t do. They needed her healthy.

Sabine gentled her tone. "Try and eat some more, Vesperin. You need to keep your strength up." Under the table, she fisted her hand, perfectly sharp, manicured nails cutting into her palms. The prick of pain made her eyes water, feeding into the teary-eyed persona of a grieving mother as she said, "I can’t see you waste away."

Vesperin’s grey, lifeless eyes drifted up to meet Sabine’s. "I’m sorry… for worrying you," she croaked, fingers shaking around the fork as she brought a small bite of food up to her mouth.

Sabine caught Talor’s eyes, her own widening in reprimand.

"We’re worried about you," Talor said. The shadows under his eyes weren’t fake, but the strain in his voice was.

Their act of concerned, grieving parents didn’t have to go on for long.

Vesperin’s eyelids fluttered, her shoulders sagging, and the fork slipped from her hands. "I don’t feel…" she slurred, before slumping over in her seat. Her white hair fell around her shoulders like a curtain, hands limp as they rested on the table.

Sabine sighed and pushed back her chair with a low creak. "Pick her up."

Talor copied her, moving around the table to stand by Vesperin. He lifted her hand, just to make sure, and waved it before her to test if she was truly out. Her fingers flopped uselessly. "Out cold," he stated.

"I can see that, Talor," Sabine nearly sang. She wondered sometimes if she had more brains than her husband—but realized what a funny thought that was, because she clearlydid. He was the brawn, spearheading Blackfall Industries’ militaristic exploits, sending out their… soldiers… to capture Rogues for study, as well as steal people for testing. The homeless. Orphans. Those no one would notice if they went missing. And Sabine was the brains. She commanded their scientific research. Talor helped, of course. He wasn’t entirely stupid, or else she wouldn’t have married him.