Imperial (Insight #8)(7)
I could not singlehandedly stop Vade’s line. If I did, eventually I would stop myself. Too much of his essence was within mine. I wonder where one goes when they die when they are already dead? Was that even possible? I suppose I should offer that musing to the Reaper, glean his thoughts on the matter.
I glanced over my shoulder to see him ever so graciously approaching me. His robe was dark, highlighting the glow of his flesh which was filling the elegant room that I spent most of my time within. If you didn’t intently focus your eyes on him, he could easily be seen as light itself.
“Reaper,” I stated heavily with no emotion to be heard.
“Child,” he said as he drifted to my side. After a moment, he spoke again. “You’re troubled.”
Those two words had often launched us into discussions that would seem to last centuries. He was a gifted listener and often offered complex, yet simple answers. Complex because at first they made no sense. Simple because once you did understand them, you felt like a fool for not seeing them as what they were from the beginning.
“I’d tell you that death was beckoning me, but I doubt that statement would make much sense whilst speaking to the likes of you.”
That made him grin ever so wisely.
“The Fall is in jeopardy. Apparently, Vade has no loyalty to you either.” I shifted my weight as I flexed every lean muscle in my body. “His line dared to cross tonight,” I offered, feeling ashamed by pure association.
“Are you telling me that the mere brush with his essence has reunited your thoughts with his?”
When energy was divinely connected, on a level that supposedly could not be broken, thoughts could be heard between rushes. For most Escorts, that only happened for the course of uniting, but for Sovereigns and those near the top of the line the effects lasted much longer, so long that the insight never had the chance to wear off before the next union was commenced between the two souls. The Reaper doubted my words. Doubted that Vade would cross him. Fool.
“No. I’m telling you that Rasp was in the forest tonight.”
The Reaper nodded once. “And you asked him to leave ever so politely.”
I clenched my teeth and looked away. “If he returns...” I swallowed hard before my stare returned to the light of his. “Tell me. Did Vade ever seek me and you have not made me aware?”
No answer, which might as well have been a no as far as I was concerned. “The next time Rasp or anyone from Vade’s line—or any line—passes through this forest, they will be fed into The Realm—slowly. Very slowly. But let me warn you, Reaper. You may want to look into finding yourself another army. There will come a point where I will destroy myself, which will in turn destroy Mazing.” I moved my stare forward to The Fall. “That is, unless you have a ‘get out of deader’ card in that robe of yours.”
“You have a deep compassion for the souls on both sides of The Fall.”
I nodded weakly as I glanced away. I had no reason to care for souls that I would never know. It was not my nature. My nature was to consume the emotions they were too weak to bear in their purest form. I should not care if they were harmed. I should only care for my survival. Maybe it was because I was the only sovereign that could clearly remember my human form, or maybe it was because I was the youngest or even the only female, but I did have compassion. I did seek equality. A lesson I forgot for a brief time. A lesson my time here had restored.
Witnessing the procession of death at dusk each day warmed my being. I saw souls in their purest form. I saw them grasp their past lives. Not for material matters that were left behind, but for the souls they left behind. The souls they often ignored for material means whilst living. I saw the regret in their eyes. I saw souls crave another chance. Souls strive to become more within their next dance with life. They’d inspired me. They’d forced me into daydreaming about what I could have done differently with my past reign. How I could have had my line lead by example. That I should have done that the moment my Creator was challenged. I should have done that before he vanished, never to be seen again.
“Is this my punishment?” I asked the Reaper. “I asked for no stay, yet I am here. And now I shall fall further into the vacuum of death. Has my Creator charged you with my watch?”
His gaze moved to The Fall. “You, of all souls, by now should know the procession of death.”
“Are you telling me that I am not forgotten?”
He only offered a subtle smile.
If I had asked for a stay and someone remembered me in my past life, that would explain why I was still here, in this form. I could only assume that it was Vade—that his energy was powerful enough that it would override any stay I could have asked for. Vade had imprisoned me in his memories.
“Fantastic. So, since my ex is an immortal, I’m confined. I swear that boy should have come with a warning label.”
That internal argument began again, part of me cheering that I was still in Vade’s memories, the other furious that he’d shelved me. I wondered if in his all-knowing mind Vade realized it would come to this; a quarrel between two adoreds that would kill millions, maybe billions, if his line had grown.
“The only prison a soul can reside in is the one it creates itself,” the Reaper eloquently responded.
“I did not create this Veil. And you know I have tried more than once to leave here. We cannot move past the forest. A wall of energy barricades us within your immediate reign, yet any other soul that you grant a stay is free to move through all of the Veil, to watch over their adored.”