Wings of Eden

Chapter Twenty Eight

Mirtis didn't want to leave Elyria alone so suddenly, and he definitely didn't want to explain himself later. But the voice was just loud, so loud, hissing in his ears like a blade scraping against a stone.

{Hurry. Now. Don't lose track of the mana. If there was ever a time to listen to me, this would be it. Go.}

It overlapped itself, a scream in a sea of dry whispers. Sharp, harsh, demanding. It had never sounded so pressing, so demanding.

{The answers you seek are near.}

He was in range.

The mana brushed across his skin like a cold winter breeze, a dance in the dark. It was beautiful but desolate, grace gripped by a lonely talon. Suppressed, overused. Stardust, ash. Stained in red.

Mirtis tracked the source, down the stairs and to the right. He could only see magic if it was being used—why was it being used? Why did it feel so eerie?

{Through that door. The end of the hall.}

He followed its instructions.

Beyond the entry was a room with tables and chairs and weapons. The end of the hall...a girl in burgundy cloth, with white and black streaked in her wet and tied hair. She kneeled before an iron door. Quinn?

She stirred as though she felt his entry, searching the room for movement with a glance behind her shoulders. But Mirtis' illusion kept him hidden, and she couldn't hear the whispers in his head. He'd gotten close enough for a scan.

The whispers became shouts, and the shouts twisted into memories.

Shattered glass and handcuffs. A rose-tinted woman. Salty tears and running, fist clenched around a clunking bag of half-coins. Sitting alone on a rooftop, covered in rain with claws in her stomach.

Wrist caught by a brown-cloaked man. A choice, a decision. A weapon in her hands as she steadied her aim, a first prey. Her first family. Her first friend. Laughing, learning. Home.

A kill, then another, and many more after that. Bloodied arrows and an enchanted blade. Char marks, liquid flame. A twisted smile and flooded hall. Guilt, so much guilt. But logic still won.

A sunrise, then a battlefield, a giant and carmine vision. Questioning, feeling. Unsure of the right path. Facing death with acceptance. Waking up in a grey room. Sweat and blue bottles.

Searching for the amber-haired man, suspicious of a lion. Curved blade, bruised mana. Chains, limbs, multiple magics. His face. Markings on his injured, then healed, chest. His words were muffled.

Mirtis blinked, chest pulsing. He'd seen countless memories before, and looked through the lens of many lives. There were emotions he was familiar with, and there were ones he rarely saw. Never had he seen someone so split down the middle, tugging between a head and a heart. She knew that she was a murderer, regretted it, and still continued? She suspected her leader's misdeeds, but still stayed? Why?

There were other parts to note as well. The amber-haired man she was looking for...he was a corpse in the guild leader's memories. A boy with multiple abilities and markings similar to Mirtis' own. What the hell was going on here?

{So he's finally decided to make a move.}

The voice returned, replaying the last image. Pale skin, a grey eye with a scar. One bone earring and markings under his torn clothes.

{He?

That would be the other of your kind. At least, the other one alive during this period.

You knew there were more? And what I am?

Your accent slipped again.

I don't care. Tell me what you know.}

The voice made something of a chuckle.

{I don't owe anything to you.}

Mirtis forced himself to focus on the room, making sure that Quinn hadn't noticed him yet. Luckily, she was oblivious, and he felt thankful for his illusion magic.

{What's your goal with him? And me?}

It hesitated.

{Let's just say I've got a score to settle with that one, and you're my best chance of getting it.}

The hiss receded, its word seemingly final. Mirtis felt his magic begin to quiver as his illusion cracked apart. He swore to himself, causing Quinn to veer around in panic. She reached for a dagger she'd concealed under a skirt, then paused at the sight of Mirtis.

He'd have some explaining to do.