Page 10 of When Death Called Life Home (When Deities Awaken #1)

Chapter 10

Leverage

ALORA

T he camp they reached two days later looked like a treehouse from a children’s storybook. Multiple levels climbed up large trees that stretched abnormally tall compared to the surrounding ones. Fireflies made their home along the railings that kept anyone from falling from the height of each level, and as they got closer Alora spotted a number of bodies exiting the safety of their individual cabins. People that looked human, and others that resembled pieces from nature around them.

“Most of the Nymphs present live here and help any wounded that turn up,” Kallias explained quietly.

Alora glanced at him. “The human looking ones?”

“Vitarce. Ones that have been actively fighting the Reapers on the soul fields.”

“Soul fields?” Alora asked.

“Designated space the lost souls end up on when they pass through the portals,” Kallias answered.

“But the portals always remained closed?”

“To flesh and bone. Souls can move through it at any point in time. The bodies that appear with them are, to put it simply, a projection of their life form on Earth. If the Reapers release their soul here, the projection is then absorbed into the forest. If we, the Vitarce, send their souls back to them, the projection follows.”

Alora nodded slowly at the mass of information and followed Kallias up the spiral staircases that led to the largest building within the trees. The doors to it opened as they approached, and upon walking through, Alora found nymphs behind them clutching the door handles. Offered smiles did nothing to ease the worry in their eyes as they stared at her .

“Do they think I am a threat?” Alora asked, speeding up so she didn’t have to say it as loud.

Kallias glanced back towards the two nymphs. “Nobody has seen you in three years, and under the circumstances you disappeared … they have a right to be wary.”

Alora resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “A ‘yes’ would have sufficed.”

The inside of the treehouse appeared as anyone might think it would from the appearance of the outside. The large space had no dividers or separate rooms, though every square of it had its own dedicated usage. A kitchen stood closest to the door, a small group of Vitarce using it. A dining area took up the space in front of that, then what could be considered a sitting room. The rest of the space, though, had been turned into rows upon rows of beds. Most of which were occupied by injured or sleeping Vitarce, and even some Nymphs.

Kallias led Alora through many of them before he spotted an empty bed and laid Xylia upon it. Nymphs that followed behind swiftly dodged around them and to their kin’s side, one taking her hand while the other started work at patching up her wounds. Kallias watched their every movement with a critical gaze, never tearing it away to take in his surroundings like he did travelling here.

“She is important to you,” Alora noted quietly.

“She’s family.” Still he didn’t look away. “Like my sister.”

“Yet, you’re two completely different species.”

His lips curved into a small genuine smile, nodding. “Chosen family can be anyone, no matter your differences.”

Alora turned towards Kallias and crossed her arms. She studied him for a second, the light that currently clung to his body, clothes and hair. The spark that barely left his eyes except for when the threat of death closed in, and then it only sharpened.

“Kallias,” she stated trying to draw his attention away from Xylia for a moment. He didn’t right away, only when she didn’t follow his name with anything else did he face her. “Why did you come looking for me?”

Kallias’s gaze returned to Xylia before he turned, curled his hand around Alora’s arm and pulled her away from the majority of the crowd, towards a set of large doors she’d overlooked in her first assessment of the dwelling. They opened into a large, empty space with spongy flooring. Alora paused in the doorway, her fingers lingering on the wooden frame. A gentle push at her back after his grip disappeared from her arm and they both stood within the room with the door closed behind them. Alora turned to him and raised an eyebrow.

“Well?”

Kallias’ throat bobbed with a swallow. “You’re leverage.”

Alora’s jaw dropped. “Leverage?” Even repeating it didn’t make it truly sink in.

“Yes.”

She picked up her jaw as her eyes narrowed slowly at him. “You realise you are speaking to a person? A very real, very alive and breathing, human being?”

Again, he swallowed.

“Elysian,” he corrected.

A guttural growl left her, her hands shooting up to rub over her face and hold her hair back from it. Elysian. Born in a world she no longer even remembered. She started to shake her head. “No.”

“Yes.”

“No, Kallias.”

“Would you rather still be on Earth with that curly haired brunette you were teasing in the gardens? ”

Alora sucked in a breath as she pushed away from the door frame she hadn’t realised she’d fallen against and stormed towards the man. “You were watching me.”

A wicked grin curved his lips as he lifted a single shoulder in a lazy shrug. “Likely for longer than you realise. I averted my gaze when things grew too steamy, though, don’t you worry.”

The shadows beneath the light in her mind stirred. A butterfly formed from the deepest parts of her, growing and growing until it pressed against the dimples of her temple and wiped the grin from Kallias’ lips. Alora barely registered the satisfaction that washed over her body at watching the expression drop.

“Alora…” Warning coated his voice.

“What?” She snapped, gaze never breaking from his.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” Kallias asked the question with such care and steadiness it stilled the grey butterfly in her mind. Froze it, even.

“I don’t know, Kallias, you’re the one that’s been spying on me and knows more about my life than I do, so why don’t you enlighten me?”

His jaw clenched, smirk dropping from his lips. “I’m going to guess there’s something taking shape in there, pressing against your mind in order to get out.”

“You have no idea what you are talking about.” Regaining control of the butterfly proved more difficult than Alora expected, despite her wishing to prove Kallias wrong. Painful, even. A throb followed each second Alora failed to leash it, demanding to be set free. Until something snapped inside her, against the thing she knew Kallias spoke of. Whispers caressed her eardrums of dangerous actions, and a second later she relaxed into them. Smiled at the comfort they surrounded her in.

She didn’t understand it but cold ice bit into her fingers and threatened them with small slices if she didn’t fling them away. She listened, her hand flying out before her. Butterflies erupted then spun into small, grey daggers made entirely of solid ice, that sailed for Kallias. It released the pressure against Alora’s temples and eased the headache that had niggled there. The relief was enough to send her to her knees.

Kallias’ eyes widened, his arm lifting a shield of air right before the daggers reached him and stopping them short. They clattered to the ground, remaining solid despite the warmth of the day. Kallias’ gaze slowly shifted to meet Alora’s, lips parting.

“Apparently more powerful leverage than I originally realised.”

The words were barely a whisper but that didn’t stop the anger from seizing hold of Alora’s trust in a vice grip. No matter where she went, who she met, she couldn’t believe them to want her for anything but their own gain. The grey matter in her mind swirled again, stretching apart and coming back together as if it couldn’t decide on which shape to take.

“I am not just some leverage for you to utilise whenever you need, Kallias,” Alora growled, slowly pushing herself back up onto her feet. “And unless you wish to die in this camp, you will stop referring to me as such because I have never had free power before and it tastes better than when I had to kiss it off knuckles.”

Her words hit where she needed them to. His expression dropped further, throat bobbing with a swallow before he swayed the tiniest bit backwards. No longer solid like the wall that’d saved him.

He cleared his throat, again, then said, “Energy. What you just used is your energy .”

Alora strode forward on more confident steps than she believed, gaze never leaving Kallias as she dipped and grabbed the two daggers from in front of him.

“I do not care if it was my imagination.” She dragged a finger over one of the blades, holding in her wince at the sting of a cut, then held it up for Kallias to see. “It will still make you bleed should I wish it to.”

“I could train you.”

She struggled to hear the words. His lips moved but if they had not been in an enclosed space, a slight breeze could have very well swept the sentence away before it reached her ears.

Her eyes narrowed, warmth spreading up her neck. “Did I enquire?”

A quick glance at the daggers she held within white knuckles and Kallias shook his head.

“I’m going to go find something to eat before I skewer you, and I swear if you try and tell me I won’t be given anything without your help, these blades will be the least of your worries.” Alora turned back towards the door.

“They’re called daggers,” he muttered. Instant regret washed over his features as she spun, fire in her eyes and slammed the dagger towards him. His hands flew up once more as he stumbled back, fire erupting from his palms and engulfing not only her ice dagger, but her hand, too.

Searing pain carved into each layer of her skin, threatening to reach her bones when the flames extinguished. The burning remained, throbbing worse than her head did when holding in the butterflies. She couldn’t tear her gaze away from the charred flesh, raw and almost melting . A scream tore from her throat, the urge to both cradle her hand close and try to flick the pain away battled within her while cold, salty tears slid down her cheeks.

She backed away from her hand, from Kallias. Her footsteps increased speed when, as expected, her hand followed and she couldn’t escape the pain. Kallias rushed towards her from the corner of her eye, hands outreached but she screamed a second before he touched her and halted his actions.

“Alora, please .”

She could do nothing, only shake her head and stare at the mess of her hand.

“If you don’t let me heal it, it’ll scar.”

The way he said it sounded like he grasped at falling leaves, as though he’d gone through every other negotiation tactic and now scraped the bottom for dregs. Anything to get her to listen and trust him. Too late. He’d lost any chance of helping her the moment he called her leverage. They always went on to use that ‘help’ against them later. She wouldn’t give him anything more in this lifetime.

Her ears rang in the new found silence as he stopped trying to convince her and instead looked desperately towards the closed door. No, not silence . Screams that filled her ears, not ringing, but this time they weren’t in her head and they were most definitely not her own.