Page 27 of Duskbound (Esprithean Trilogy #2)

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

The leathers felt heavy in my hands as I hung them in the wardrobe of my new quarters. Black and sleek, marked with patterns that identified me as Spectre. As Umbra. I ran my fingers over the material. The sound of footsteps down the hall had my eyes creeping towards the door. At least this time, I had a lock on my side instead of theirs.

I sank onto the edge of the bed, exhaustion seeping into my bones. The others had said the memories of the Void would fade—that the mind protected itself by burying the worst of what it showed you. But right now, every vision felt razor-sharp.

The Enclave. Leila's branding. Ma's horror. Laryk's... Each scene designed to break me, to make me surrender to the darkness. But it was the last vision that haunted me most. It felt different from the others. Real in a way the rest hadn't been.

I closed my eyes and replayed it in my mind. The woman—her long, unruly hair. The man who held her, his skin pale and devoid of color, shadows around his eyes. Their arms had tightened around each other, golden bracelets hanging on both of their arms, reflecting the raging fire surrounding them. The look that passed between them pulled at something inside me.

The Void had said it was the vision I'd been most waiting for, though I hadn't known I was waiting for anything at all. But something about it felt significant, even if I couldn't figure out why. The way they'd chosen to face the flames together... My eyes fell on my reflection in the small mirror above the washbasin.

Vexa's words echoed in my mind. You're far more than a Duskbound.

I traced the shadows beneath my eyes, so similar to the ones the man in my vision had worn. A Kalfar, clearly. But the woman...

I shook the thought away. The Void had shown me exactly what it knew would hurt most—my deepest fears, my hidden shames. Why should this vision be any different?

You're not like them. The Void had said.

I resumed my pacing, the stone floor cold beneath my feet. Even Aether had noticed something was different about me. He could see my web—something that should have been impossible.

I sank back onto the bed, my legs suddenly unable to hold me. The Umbra had been in Riftdremar trying to forge an alliance. I'd learned that much from Vexa and the others. They'd been there before the war, before the Soleils burned it all to ash. There would have been contact, negotiations. The timing would align with...

With what? I wasn't even sure what I was trying to piece together.

The woman's face flashed in my mind again. There had been something so achingly familiar about her features. About the way her hair had moved in the heat of the flames, wild and uncontrolled, like...

My hand flew to my own hair, fingers tangling in the white strands.

A Kalfar and an... Aossí? The thought felt dangerous even in my own mind. Were those Soleil flames surrounding them ?

My fingers found my Riftborne branding, tracing the familiar mark. I'd carried it my whole life, a symbol of my parents' supposed treachery. But there was so much more to the story. So much I still didn't know.

My blood turned to ice. The golden bracelets. Like the one I had come to Sídhe with as a child—my only possession tying me to Riftdremar. To my family.

Was it even possible?

Half Kalfar, half Aossí. The possibility felt like a blade against my throat. It would explain so much—why I'd never felt at home in either realm, why my abilities had always been different. Why my web worked unlike anything they'd seen before. Why I looked like both, but neither at the same time.

But if it were true...

A knock at my door cut through my spiraling thoughts. I quickly wiped my face, not even realizing tears had fallen. When I opened the door, Aether stood there.

"Lael's awake," he said. "Eating everything in sight, actually."

Relief flooded through me, but confusion quickly followed. There was something different about the way he was looking at me. His eyes didn't hold that normal scowl.

"How are you feeling?"

The question caught me off guard. "Are you actually interested, or just making small talk?"

"I can go," he said, his eyes flickering to my face. "I've clearly caught you in the middle of something."

Heat rushed to my cheeks as I realized he could probably tell I'd been crying. But he motioned toward the piles of leather uniforms scattered across my bed, offering me an out.

"For a dying realm, you all sure have a lot of leather," I said, grateful for the deflection.

A smile almost quirked at his lips. "Well, we don't skin a cow every time someone enters the Umbra, if that's what you're implying." He paused, looking me up and down before his gaze fell on the window. "We do have reserves of it from across the realm." The words came out awkward, like he wasn't quite sure why he was explaining this.

"So, what can I do for you?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Must we stand in the doorway?"

I angled my head at him, suspicion creeping in, but stepped aside to let him enter. His presence immediately made the room feel smaller, more confined. He moved to the window, and I found myself studying the way the dim light caught on his piercings, how the shadows beneath his skin seemed at peace.

A silence stretched between us, punctuated by strange, almost awkward glances. I kept waiting for his request, his task, whatever reason had brought him here. But he just stood there, like he had all the time in the world.

"Playing nice now that you got what you wanted?" I finally asked.

"Just coming to gloat, really." His eyes met mine, that hint of a smile returning.

"To gloat? That's unbecoming," I shot back.

"You're the one who came flying out of the Void like you were putting on a performance." His tone was dry, but there was something almost like amusement in his eyes.

"Well, someone had to make you look good." I couldn't help but match his sarcasm. "Your reputation was at stake after all."

"My reputation?" One eyebrow arched. "And here I thought you were convinced I was just a glorified jailer."

"Weren't you?"

That almost-smile twitched at his lips again. "You know, most people would show more gratitude to someone who just came to check on them."

"Gratitude?" I pressed a hand to my chest in mock offense. " Should I thank you for all those times you threw me into the training mat too?"

"You're welcome."

I shot him a narrowed look before returning to the bed, slipping the sleeve of a black uniform through a hanger. If he was just going to stand there and look pleased with himself, I might as well continue with my organizing.

"In all seriousness, I did actually come here to thank you ," he said from behind me.

Something in his tone made me pause, my hands stilling on the leather. When I turned to face him, the amusement had faded from his eyes, replaced by something more intense.

"For Lael," he continued, his voice lower now. "You didn't have to do that. To risk yourself like that." He hesitated, and I could see him wrestling with something. "How did you even find him in there?"

I thought back to that endless darkness, to the feeling of Lael's body beneath my hands. "I just... did. I couldn't leave him there." The memory of that terrifying voice echoed in my mind, of the bargain I'd struck. But I pushed it away. It didn't seem like the time to discuss it. I wasn't sure if I ever would.

"Only one other person has ever done that," he said quietly. "The Queen. When she found me."

The admission hung in the air between us. I studied his face, noting how the shadows beneath his eyes seemed to deepen at the mention of it. For once, I decided to push.

"How much do you remember? From before she found you?"

His jaw tightened, but he didn't immediately shut me down like he usually did. "Nothing." He moved to the window, his fingers absently tracing one of his void burns. "It's like my life began in that darkness."

"But thirty-five years..." I hesitated, then pressed on. "You don't look?— "

"Older?" That ghost of a smile returned, but it held no humor. "Another mystery, I'm afraid."

"Do you ever wonder who you were? Before?"

He was quiet for so long I thought he wouldn't answer. When he finally turned back to me, something had shifted in his golden eyes. "One memory seemed to slip past the Void. But it doesn't tell me much."

Realization washed over me.

"I saw her," I said quietly. "That day in training, when I tried to read your mind. She was there."

The shadows around him pulsed, but he didn't retreat like he had that day. Instead, he studied me with an intensity that made my skin prickle.

"I know," he said finally. "That's why I left. No one else has ever..." He trailed off, running a hand through his dark hair. "The Queen tried for years to help me remember. The best healers in the realm attempted to unlock whatever the Void took from me."

The weight of what that meant settled between us. I thought of my own vision in the Void, of the two people facing the flames together. Of all the questions still burning inside me.

"Do you think she was family?" I asked, unable to keep my own uncertainties from coloring the question.

"I don't know."

"She looked like you," I said quietly, returning to the wardrobe.

The silence seemed to stretch on, and I couldn't help myself from filling it.

"The Void showed me something. I can't stop thinking about it," I finally said.

The sound of shifting fabrics echoed from behind me. I turned to find Aether pulling out the chair at my desk. "Do you want to talk about it?" he asked.

Clearly.

His stillness had cracked, replaced by something almost... uncertain. He had never been much of a talker—outside of verbal assault, of course. Yet here he was, actually attempting conversation. Voluntarily. In my quarters.

"I just don't know what to make of it, really," I continued, breaking away from his curious gaze.

"The Void tends to have that effect on people," he said.

"I know." I shot another narrowed glance over my shoulder. "But this felt different. The voice implied it was the vision I'd been waiting for."

"The voice?" Aether readjusted in his chair.

"Yes—the voice. The overwhelming, booming monstrous voice. The Void, I guess."

"I've never heard of the Void speaking to people." He suppressed a laugh, and the look on his face had irritation racing across my skin.

"Forget I said anything." I rolled my eyes.

"My apologies. The voice said it was the vision you'd been waiting for..." He bit back a smile, gesturing for me to continue.

"I saw two people," I said, keeping my voice steady. "In Riftdremar, I think. During the burning." I watched his expression carefully. "A Kalfar man and... someone else. A woman who wasn't Kalfar."

"The Void often shows us?—"

"You were here then, weren't you?" I cut him off. "When the Umbra were in Riftdremar? Before everything happened?"

He nodded slowly. "I had just entered the Umbra. The Queen had sent representatives across the rip for negotiations."

"The timing..." I started, then stopped, gathering my courage. "The timing would align perfectly. The Umbra's presence in Riftdremar, the uprising, my birth." The words came faster now. "The woman in my vision—she looked like she could have been Aossí. And they both wore these golden bracelets, like one I had when I came to Sídhe. "

Understanding dawned in his eyes. "You think they were your parents."

"Is it even possible?" I asked, the question burning in my throat. "A Kalfar and an Aossí?"

He was quiet for a moment, his golden eyes distant. "There were... interactions. More than most know. Men stationed there for months at a time. But this wasn't exactly public knowledge. We had just discovered a new realm, foreign to ours. Leadership didn't want to cause a mass disturbance." He looked at me directly.

I nodded, eyes falling on the stone floor.

"I can look into it. The archives might have records from that period, though many were destroyed."

My gaze shot back to him faster than I would have liked. "You would do that?"

"You saved Lael," he said simply. "Consider it a debt repaid."