Rowena

Gods. She was here. Beautiful, whole and perfect. Not a corpse rotting in the road, but a person. Living, breathing, and whole. Auburn curls framed a heart-shaped face just like they always had. The playful spread of freckles across the bridge of her nose was the same as when I’d last seen her alive. The mischievous slant of her mouth. The long lashes brushing her cheeks.

Everything around me faded; nightmares, Abyssals, and darkness alike. There wasn’t much substance to it, only the feeling of something lost that was found. Like a war-worn soldier smelling a favorite meal after returning home. I didn’t know why this feeling consumed every part of me, but it did. The calls of the other parts of my soul frayed my edges, but the pain was grounding. Not tortuous. I could sense them now, pulling me in many ways, giving me focus.

My life, everything I was, awaited. And I wanted it back. Every single piece if that’s what it took to see her again. To give meaning to my existence.

But here she was. Right in front of me. My mind stopped, and so did eveything else. There was only her and the scent of untamed grass, winter flowers, and fallen leaves. Her scent. Some part of me knew that. She was even dressed exactly as she was the last time I saw her alive. A rancher-style hat hid her eyes. Her beaten leather jacket hung well on her shoulders, with a collared tunic beneath and riding breeches.

The corner of her mouth hooked upward as she reached up to play with one of her curls, the other arm hugging around her middle.

Yes. Here she was. The past made real right in front of me, moving and breathing. The fragments of memory floated in my mind, making me feel dizzy. I blinked once. Twice. No. She was definitely real.

And then I didn’t care about anything else.

Getting my feet beneath me, I wrapped my arms around her shoulders in a rush. She didn’t fight, instead encasing me in her own grip. Her scent got more intense, and I breathed it in greedily. Her arms wandered my back in soothing circles as I buried my face in her hair. Lips grazed the top of my head and I twisted to—”

Yared cleared his throat.

My eyes flew open again.

Fayra’s head was inclined toward mine as she held me. Her hat had fallen off in our embrace, revealing her eyes.

But they weren’t her eyes.

These ones were clouded over. Sightless.

“Oh, come on!” said Love in a voice too deep for Fayra’s, angling his head toward Yared. The older man shifted on his feet, looking unapologetic. A scowl pulled at both their faces.

“That’s the most action I’ve gotten in months. Months!”

”It’s cruel, and you’re not Fayra,” said Yared simply. Love angled his head back to me and batted his lashes, smiling around white teeth. Farya’s smile. Fayra’s lashes.

”I could be.”

And that’s when I remembered something else about myself. I hated the Gods.

Still holding me, Love inclined his head again even as I pulled away, the hands lingering too long.

“You,” I said, finally managing to pull free of his arms, “Transform into something else. Anything else.”

Love pouted for a second, before sighing.

“All right. Fine, spoil sport. Any requests?”

My face split into a shit-eating grin as the answer came to me. I brushed myself off calmly, as Love stood as well.

”My father.”

Love considered me, blind eyes searching hidden parts of my soul. He rested his head in a hand as he thought.

“I suppose you do love him on some level. We can try.”

Love rolled his shoulders, humming as he worked his finger joints. But then he was growing taller, dressed in a refined gray suite. Black hair tied at the nape of his neck replaced the auburn curls. The angles of his face became sharper, more like mine. Long limbs with clever fingers and an expressionless face.

And then my father stood before me.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

Love patted himself down, looking pensive.

“I’m not a fan of this one actually. May I go back to Fayra? Perhaps Clara—“

I punched his stomach.

*******

The Abyss had been my reality for so long, I’d forgotten to look for anything else. Now there was a reason to go on. I’d been so busy looking at Love that I’d forgotten to see my surroundings.

I’d reclaimed part of my soul, and with it, felt more human. I was larger now, no longer child sized, but the world around me still felt too big. Too daunting.

The darkness was replaced with a misty gray, like a desert at twilight. There was enough to see things beyond the darkness, but no details. Simply objects with no distinction before me in a boundless plane.

And then there were the other souls.

Frayed fragments of people wandered the planes, eyes watching aimlessly. I wondered how I hadn’t seen them before. They were right there, but they weren’t looking at us. They were looking the way we’d come, flinching in fear as the shadows stalked them.

Penned prey in a den of monsters.

There, shifting through the plane, were the Abyssals. They were largely shapeless, melding into the shadows of the mist. Occasionally one would grow wings and take the form of the horse when they were tracking down a wayward spirit, but it was never long before they caught them. I watched as their darkness swallowed fragment after fragment of soul, feeble lights buried in blackness.

They didn’t reemerge.

A chill peaked my skin. So close. I had been so close to nonexistence. I’d never considered myself lucky, but Gods. If I had been in the wrong area of the Abyss…I didn’t want to finish that thought.

The Abyssals, at least for the time being, didn’t seem interested in us. They lurked in the plains of nothing behind us, never turning our way. The texture of the land where we were walking now was subtly different than where the other souls roamed. There were tall silhouettes of cliffs ascending beyond the reach of our eyes. There was a veil of cloud on everything, with other smaller shapes hiding them. Hills, and the hint of horizons beyond. Something beyond the nothing.

“What is this place?” I asked, making Love and Yared glance at me. We had continued walking hours ago, the crowd of souls getting thinner and thinner until we were nearly alone.

“The Abyss, my violence-happy friend. I thought you knew that,” Love said sourly, still in the form of my father. He seemed to have figured out Yared and I didn’t like him impersonating our loved ones. A good punch to the gut had a way of communicating things like that very effectively.

“No,” I said, glancing around, “the Abyss was back that way and far darker. This looks more like a gray desert with cliffs.”

“Is that all you can see, Little One?” Yared asked, a wrinkle between his brows. It dawned on me then.

“You’re whole again. That’s why you can see more than me.”

“Broken souls only see darkness. Broken mortal souls, that is. That’s what keeps them trapped here,” Love said quietly, using a finger to press glasses up his nose. He had even been able to mimic my father’s gadgetry glasses, with several lenses of varying colors and sizes. The effect was unsettling.

That same sadness crept into Yared’s eyes.

“I’m nearly whole, and when I saw you I thought there was a chance…” Yared pinched the bridge of his nose, his thoughts far away for a moment, “Perhaps we can find ourselves again and go to the Far Shore together.”

Love stood straighter, the mask of my father’s features turning down. Some deep thread of emotion, memory, pulled. A thread of pain. Loss. I stepped away from Yared, frowning. His light shone brightly, and for second, it burned me. He was so close to being whole again. It was obviously just staring at him. I thought of the millions of people who had lived in the world so far.

How many had made it out of the Abyss? Yared had a chance. His soul gave off a light so pure and vibrant that it was a crime he was here to begin with. What if an Abyssal attacked us? What if it was because he stayed for me?

Love spoke as if in answer to my thought.

“You can move on, my dear sir. She will be safe with me—“

”Together,” Yared said again, glancing sidelong at Love. Something passed between them, but whatever it was, Love let it go. I swallowed, my throat tight. I opened my mouth to argue, but Yared turned to me.

”I know the risks, but I promised her, Little One.”

Love and I glanced at each other. Yared waved us away before we could ask, firm in his secrets.

”So—” I said, breaking the silence that followed, “How do we start?”

Yared nodded, looking into the gloom.

“I had to call the other parts of my soul, but I could only do it with the help of an angel—“

”Oh piss on that!” Love cried, crossing his arms.

“You don’t need an angel. You have God,” he said, leaning forward and gesturing at himself.

“A God who needs to be put together as well, I’ll have you know.”

His eyes were growing darker, the clouded parts turning the color of a sky before a storm. I took a step away from him, not liking the sudden change. Love didn’t notice, his fingers curling into talons and clawing the air.

“And when I get my hands on whoever did it, they will experience the most aggressive form of love I can provide.”

Yared’s head and mine snapped to Love, too stunned for words. Love was a fragment too?

Ignoring our looks, Love walked past us toward the ascending cliffs, a strange aura suddenly vibrating around him. Until now, he had been annoying at best. But now I saws it. The primordial power raging around him. And maybe that’s why it was so terrifying. What happened if a God of something like Love turned to hate?

“Who in nannie’s sacred nether regions tore a God apart?” I asked, jogging to keep up with him.

“Sweeting, if I knew that, do you think I’d still be here? But anywho, that’s not the important part.”

”Sorry, but I don’t follow—“

Love smiled, the look unnatural on my father’s features. He glanced back our way over his shoulder, cloudy eyes unfocused.

“The important part is why someone would have attacked the God of Love, yours truly,” he said with a flourish, sweeping in a bow.

“And that can only mean one thing. Someone or something wants a lack of love and affection in the mortal realm.”

Yared paled, stepping forward. His fists clenched and unclenched, as if looking for a weapon.

“You can’t mean—“

“Oh yes,” Love said, turning toward the cliff again and starting up a steep incline on some path I couldn’t see.

“War is on the horizon in the mortal realm, soulings. A war that will shape the material and immaterial planes alike. You’re welcome.”