Eyes Up, Guardian

Chapter 27

Alastor Darius Asmodeus had never met his King. Or at least, he had never heard his voice. He'd seen his form, woven into the tapestries that covered his palace, Oryx's winged form blessing his ancestors on that high rock, hundreds of years ago. He hadn't heard his voice until his mate had given birth to his child, it was only then that the King spoke to him. He whispered of death and havoc, he whispered of power strong enough to rid their entire kind from the earth. Oryx, in his horrible, dark voice, had promised him it would be true, if the boy continued to walk the earth.

Alastor had done what he could, ever faithful to his king, he had done all he could bear. He'd sent the boy into so much danger it was a wonder he'd come back, but still the whispers continued. They drove him mad, until he'd cast him out, sent him to die, and then finally they had stopped.

He had not heard his king in years, not even when the boy returned to the clan, to reestablish his place within it. Oryx had not spoken to him then, either, not until his final day. Alastor had failed his kingdom, he had failed his people, and he had failed his own King. His life, and the lives of his people would be the price. The price for the boy's life.

The final words of his King echoed in his ears as he felt his life draining away. "I wonder, Alastor, would you son have still sought to destroy me if he had known who would perish instead?" The voice had torn at him, just as it had for years, shredding his very being with every hateful breath. Perhaps it was a good thing his son had been alive to end him. Perhaps it was a price they all had to pay, for following such a horrid god. "Everyone he ever loved, gone, and you are to blame for that pain." It was enough to drive a stake into his heart, because he knew the words were to be true. He had been responsible for all his son's pain, for his own mate's pain as well, when Oryx's words had driven him to hate, to hurt, to fear. He knew they would never forgive him. He knew they never should.

Tessa awoke the next day laying in a fat beam of sunlight. Damian was gone from the bed, his spot long since gone cold as she stretched out across it, winding the flannel sheets a bit tighter around her. Where he had been, she found a handwritten note, addressed to her in Damian's messy handwriting. She yawned, rolling onto her back to read it.

Tessa,

Ikora's called me off to Mars so she can teach me about controlling my light a bit more. She says it's going to take a while, likely most of the day. I should be back late this evening.

I wanted to run this by you, yesterday Ikora told us we should get away and I was thinking we should probably head back to the Skotadi. I'd understand if you don't want to, of course, but I was thinking about heading out tomorrow. We'd be back before the day of the Dawning, so not a super long trip. You can contact Kylie or let me know when I get back tonight. I'll see you soon.

Love, Damian

She smiled as she reached the end, beside the closer, he'd drawn a lopsided heart. Reading the last word before his name, her heart had fluttered in a way she once would have called foolish, or even dumb, but it sent her mind back to the night before. She loved him, traveler, she loved him. The words had slipped out the night before, but she realized she'd never spoken a truer statement. She let out a sigh, the sigh of a love-struck idiot, but she didn't mind it, in fact she enjoyed it. She hardly realized Echo hovering over her until she opened her eyes again and sat up, nearly bumping into him.

"Are you mad about what I told him?" Echo asked, taking her aback. She frowned, having to backtrack in order to realize what he was saying. In order to realize she was talking about her first death.

She shook her head. "No, I'm not angry." She told him, to which the ghost looked relieved. "I would have rather told him myself, but I can understand why you told him when you did." She said. "I just wish I could be there for him more, that I could help him more."