Page 25 of Never Quite Gone
CHAPTER 24
Blood and Time
T he Rothschild estate's library still smelled exactly like it had when we were kids – leather and wood polish and the particular dust of old money. Every corner held memories: Will helping me with calculus homework at that table by the window, sharing whispered secrets about girls behind those shelves, planning our futures in front of the fireplace that hadn't changed in three generations.
Now those same oak-paneled walls witnessed a very different scene. Will stood by our father's desk, power radiating from him in waves that felt ancient and wrong. Eli lay unconscious nearby. My own blood dripped onto imported carpet from a wound I never saw coming, copper taste in my mouth bitter as betrayal.
“You knew,” I said quietly. “All those times you helped me search through history, through family records looking for traces of past lives... you were just playing along.”
Will's smile held genuine pain. “Not at first,” he replied, fingers trailing over leather-bound volumes of Rothschild history. “Those early years, I really was just your kid brother, following you around, wanting to be like you. But then the dreams started.” His hands began to glow with power I never knew he possessed, magic that felt older than the books surrounding us. “Memories of what I was, of what I could be again.”
“Will—” I started, but he cut me off with a gesture that crackled with ancient energy.
“Do you know what it's like?” he asked softly, his voice carrying centuries of grief. “To remember being something more than human, but being trapped in mortality? To watch everyone you love die, over and over, while you remember every single death?”
I tried to reach for him. But the power surrounding him felt wrong somehow, like something that shouldn't exist in our modern world of corporate mergers and quarterly reports.
“We can figure this out,” I offered, though blood still dripped from where his first attack had caught me off guard.
His laugh held no humor. “Like all those lifetimes when you abandoned me to chase after him?” He gestured at Eli's unconscious form. “Do you have any idea how many times I've watched you die for love? How many times I've had to stand by, pretending not to remember, while you threw your life away?”
The magical attack came without warning, sending me crashing into shelves that had witnessed our childhood study sessions. Volumes of family history rained down around me .
“I loved you,” Will said, tears streaming down his face even as power gathered around his hands again. “In every lifetime, you were my brother, my best friend. And in every lifetime, I had to watch you die.”
Another blast of power, this one barely deflected by whatever protection Marcus had woven around me centuries ago. More books fell, pages fluttering like broken wings.
“Do you know why I helped you search for Eli?” Will's voice cracked slightly. “Because at least when you found him, I got to keep you a little longer before fate took you away again.”
I pushed myself up, ignoring the way my body protested. “Will, please. This isn't you. This power – it's doing something to you. ”
“This is exactly me!” The windows rattled with force of his shout. “This is what I've always been, what I was before temples rose or civilizations formed. I'm not just your brother, Alex. I'm something older. Something that remembers when magic ran wild and gods walked among mortals.”
“The dreams you told me about,” I said carefully, trying to reach my brother through whatever ancient power had claimed him. “The ones about temples and scrolls...”
“Were memories.” He moved closer, magic crackling around him like dark lightning. “Memories of teaching Vale the spells he used to bind your souls. Memories of power that existed before recorded history.” His smile held edges sharp enough to cut. “Memories of what I really am.”
My back hit another bookshelf, family photos watching our confrontation with frozen smiles. A picture of us at my college graduation caught my eye – Will beaming with pride as he adjusted my tie, both of us innocent of the tragedy already written in our souls.
“You're my brother,” I insisted, though blood still dripped from my wound. “In this life and all the others. Whatever else you were, whatever power you held – that doesn't change what we are to each other.”
“Doesn't it?” Will's voice gentled suddenly, becoming almost kind. “You don't understand, Alex. I'm not just remembering past lives like you do. I'm remembering what came before lives were even counted. Before souls learned to die and be reborn.”
The containment circle around Eli pulsed with ancient power. Will's magic had grown stronger than I'd realized, strong enough to hold a soul that had defied death for centuries.
“Let him go,” I tried, though I knew it was useless. “Whatever you're planning, whatever you think this power will give you – it's not worth destroying everything we've built.”
“It wasn't about power,” Will's voice cracked on the words, magic still crackling around him like dark lightning. “Not really. It was about not losing you. Any of you. ”
For a moment, I saw past the ancient power to the brother I'd known in this life – the little boy who used to crawl into my bed during thunderstorms, who followed me everywhere with hero-worship in his eyes. Tears streaked his face, and his hands shook even as they wielded forces that shouldn't exist in our modern world.
“In that first life, before Vale's curse, before everything – I found that immortality ritual because I couldn't bear the thought of death taking everyone I loved.”
Blood dripped steadily from my wound as understanding finally dawned. “The temple,” I breathed. “The original binding. It wasn't about gaining power for yourself.”
“I wanted to save you!” The windows rattled with force of his pain. “All of you. Our whole circle. We were happy, we were family, and then that stupid war...” His magic pulsed with each word. “I couldn't just watch everyone die. Not when I knew there was a way to keep us together.”
“But it went wrong,” I said softly, pieces clicking into terrible place. “The ritual bound our souls together instead of making us immortal.”
Will's laugh held no humor, only centuries of grief. “It worked too well. Bound you all so tightly to each other that you kept finding each other, lifetime after lifetime.” Power gathered around his hands again, but now I recognized the patterns in it – magic he'd learned from watching me across centuries. “But I was left outside the circle, remembering everything, watching you all live and die and love and lose.”
His next attack felt personal, intimate. I barely managed to deflect it, my own blood making the floor treacherous.
“Vale's curse just added another layer to what I'd already done.” Will's voice gentled suddenly, becoming almost academic. “Made it so only one of you would remember at a time. Created this beautiful tragedy where you'd search and search, lifetime after lifetime.” His smile held edges sharp as broken glass. “He thought he was saving everyone, but he was just making my ritual stronger.”
“Will, please.” I tried to reach for him again, ignoring how my body protested the movement. “We can find another way. Whatever you're trying to fix?—”
“Fix?” His laugh echoed with power older than civilization. “I'm not trying to fix anything, brother. I'm trying to finish what I started all those lives ago.” His gaze shifted to Eli's unconscious form. “The ritual was never about immortality, not really. It was about keeping us together. All of us.”
I managed to dodge another blast, but my movements were slowing. Blood marked my path across centuries-old carpet as I tried one last time to reach my brother through whatever ancient power had claimed him.
“We're together now,” I offered desperately. “You and me, this life. We're family. Real family.”
“Are we?” Will's eyes held too much pain, too many lifetimes of watching from the sidelines. “How many times have I lost you to him?” He gestured at Eli. “How many times have I had to pretend not to know what was coming, had to watch you throw everything away for love?”
“That's not fair?—”
“Fair? Was it fair to be the only one who remembered? To carry the weight of every death, every loss, every moment of watching my family tear itself apart over and over?”
“There is no other way,” he said softly, ancient knowledge bleeding through modern pain. “The ritual needs the blood of bound souls at the moment of remembering. Needs the power of love that transcends death.” His gaze fixed on Eli again, calculation replacing grief. “And thanks to Vale's blood, thanks to you two finally remembering together... I can finally make it work.”
“You really loved us,” I whispered, the truth finally clear. “In that first life. Enough to reach for power that shouldn't exist. Enough to bind our souls together forever.”
“Love is the strongest magic there is. Strong enough to transcend death, to bind souls across lifetimes, to fuel rituals that shouldn't be possible. Your love for Eli, his for you – it's been feeding my working since before the first temples rose.” Will said.
Blood loss made the room spin slightly, but I forced myself to focus. “And now?”
“Now I have everything I need.” Will's smile held genuine affection beneath ancient purpose. “Vale's blood, carrying the power of his original curse. You and Eli, finally remembering together, generating more energy than ever before.” He gestured at the containment circle. “All that love, all that power, all those lifetimes of finding and losing each other – it's perfect fuel for what comes next.”
“Which is what?”
“Completion.” The word fell like stone into still water. “The ritual was never supposed to just bind souls together. It was supposed to transcend death itself. To keep us all together, forever, without need for rebirth or reincarnation.”
“At what cost?”
His smile held centuries of secrets. “Everything,” he admitted softly. “But isn't that what love is? Being willing to sacrifice everything to keep those you care about safe? To keep them together?”
I had to try one last time. Had to reach for the brother I knew was still in there somewhere, beneath all that ancient power and impossible knowledge.
“You were happy once,” I said, desperation making my voice crack. “In this life, before the memories started. We were happy.”
I saw Will flinch, saw a flash of the little brother who used to crawl into my bed during thunderstorms. Who cried when I left for college, who stood beside me at every major milestone of this particular life.
“I can't do it again,” he whispered, magic flickering around his hands like dying stars. “I can't watch you die knowing I'll remember every detail for centuries.”
“Then let us help you,” I pleaded, taking a careful step forward despite how my wounds protested. “You're not alone in this, Will. You never were. ”
For one heartbeat that felt eternal, I saw hope flicker in his eyes. Saw the boy who'd followed me everywhere, who'd wanted nothing more than his big brother's approval. Who'd loved our family enough to break reality itself, just trying to keep us together.
Then Eli stirred in the containment circle, and something hardened in Will's expression. Ancient power overwhelmed modern grief, centuries of pain crushing that brief moment of connection.
“I'm sorry,” he said, raising his hands as magic gathered like storm clouds. “But I can't lose you again. I won't.”
The blast caught me square in the chest, sending me crashing into our father's prized Monet. Canvas ripped beneath my weight as I fell, blood staining priceless art while childhood memories rained down around me in shattered frames.
“I love you, brother,” Will said softly, and I heard truth beneath the power. “That's why I have to do this.”
Darkness crept in at the edges of my vision as I watched him lift Eli with magical bonds. His hands dangled limply, still beautiful even unconscious. Will cradled him with terrible gentleness, as if he understood exactly how precious this soul was – not just to me, but to the pattern he'd created so long ago.
“Sometimes love means making impossible choices,” Will's voice seemed to come from very far away as he opened a portal of pure magic. Light that shouldn't exist bent around him like reality giving up its claim. “You taught me that, across every lifetime.”
His tears fell like centuries of rain as he stepped toward the portal. Each drop carried weight of every death he'd witnessed, every loss he'd been forced to remember while the rest of us got to forget.
I tried to move, to speak, to reach for him one last time. But blood loss and magical damage won out, pulling me toward unconsciousness that felt like giving up.
The last thing I saw before darkness took me completely was Will's face – ancient and young, powerful and broken, my brother and something so much older. The portal closed behind them with a sound like reality surrendering, leaving me bleeding among scattered memories of happier days.
Understanding came too late: sometimes the greatest monsters are born from the deepest love. Sometimes the worst damage comes from hearts that feel too much, that refuse to let go even when they should.
My brother, who had loved us enough to break the world.
My protector, who had carried the weight of remembering through countless lifetimes.
My betrayer, who couldn't bear to lose us one more time.
Darkness finally claimed me completely, but not before one last thought crystallized with perfect clarity – Will had never wanted power for its own sake. He had only ever wanted what all of us wanted:
To keep his family together.
To stop death from taking those he loved.
To find a way to make love last forever, no matter the cost.
The library of our childhood watched in silence as I fell unconscious among broken frames and scattered memories. Each photo, each leather-bound book, each artifact of this particular life bore witness to a truth I hadn't understood until it was too late.
Consciousness faded completely as Will's portal closed, taking with it everything I'd ever loved. The last sound I heard was his voice, carrying across centuries:
“I'm sorry, Alex. But love means sacrifice. You taught me that.”
Then there was only darkness.