05 | A Mother's Love.
"A mother's love is a force as powerful as the tide, it ebbs and flows, but it never truly recedes."
- The Great Philosopher, Akil.
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VINCENT STOOD SIDE BY side with Hiram and said, “That’s how we were trapped in that limbo.”
“Mhm. Mom’s aether transference kept my soul from passing on,” said Hiram and pursed his lips. "Then your soul, that is supposed to enter my body, have been pulled in the limbo with mine."
“And the only way to release you is for my soul to break the chain that binds your soul to your body,” concluded Vincent as he narrowed his eyes at Talia. “How cruel... If your mother didn’t use aether transference, she would’ve lived on and survived,” said Vincent.
“Yes, because your soul would have healed my body,” said Hiram with a rueful smile. “It’s practically aether transference, perhaps even better.”
Vincent silently agreed. Sorcerers can heal in time by absorbing the aether around them through their soul cores. Aether Transference follows the same concept, but it instead redirects the aether to another body, at the cost of destroying the sorcerer's own soul core - fated to die.
“If not for that shooting star," said Vincent and looked at the starry sky. "If not for that bringing me into this world, your mother’s sacrifice wouldn't have been for naught." Even so, no matter the case, even if Talia knew... Vincent thought she would still sacrifice her life for her son.
“A mother’s love is—“ foolish, Vincent would have wanted to say, but he paused. He lost both of his parents when he was a child, and he never had children. How could he possibly judge a mother’s love? “Admirable.”
Then he looked at Hiram, “If it weren’t for me - you would’ve lived on, Hiram.”
Hiram affirmed Vincent’s words with a nod. “But you also saved me the pain of living without her - from living a world of thorns.”
Then Hiram shifted his gaze away from Talia and glared at Vincent. “But do not say that mom’s sacrifice was useless, Vincent. She gave me...," Hiram paused and gritted his teeth. "She gave me everything... her love... Love that I took for granted."
Vincent met Hiram’s gaze in silence before shifting his sight back to the stars. He said, “Tell me, Hiram. What’s your biggest desire? Is it vengeance? Do you want me to massacre those who did this to you and your family? You heard Cyril, your father also died. You've lost everything, Hiram."
“I want justice, Vincent,” Hiram said with a voice barely above a whisper. “Not a massacre. But. There’s nothing I can do about it, and I will not force my will upon you.”
“Is that so? Good, because I’ve not the slightest inspiration to bring you your justice,” said Vincent, and looked back to Hiram. “I will not live on as you. It is time I find my rest.”
Hiram looked at Vincent, his features unchanging. "A rest in that eternal limbo?”
Vincent shook his head. “What I mean,” he began, “is for you to go back and enter your body once more.”
Hiram responded with a hollow laugh. “I have already told you... There’s no way that could happen. You've seen my memories, so you should know that once a soul leaves the body, it can never go back,” Hiram said and shook his head.
“Ah, the Theory of Souls,” said Vincent with a nod. “A theory based upon a limited sample of data.”
Hiram looked at Vincent in confusion. "What are you trying to say?"
“It’s better for you to see it,” said Vincent. Then he placed his palm over his chest. He explained, “A soul core is separate from the body. A soul core is part of the soul, and unlike you, I have a soul core.”
Hiram widened his eyes, “Are you transferring your soul core? No, that should not be possible."
Vincent smiled. “Your justice, Hiram. Find it yourself.” Then Vincent entered his palm inside his chest. Despite Vincent’s solid-looking form, he was still a ghost. Thus, instead of a bleeding heart, he removed from his chest a shimmering orb of white. It was his own soul core. “Living on as you would force me to carry your burden, no matter my choice. What happened to your family isn’t mine to bear.”
Hiram parted his lips to speak, yet no words came out.
“Your tale. I've no reason to belong to it,” said Vincent and moved the orb over Hiram’s chest.
Then within Hiram’s chest, an orb of light appeared and absorbed Vincent's soul core. “It is true that transferring a soul core is not possible. But a child born out of the Forbidden Union always has a soul core, Hiram... always... but it remains dormant.”
"However, it could be awakened... This, you already know, but your parents made you forget, because the risks are simply too high," said Vincent. "Erasing memories is impossible, even in a world of aether. This is how I found the solution to make you live on."
While Hiram’s ghostly form turned more solid and less transparent, Vincent’s figure became transparent and flickered like a dying flame. Vincent explained, “What I’m doing is similar to the process of awakening a dormant soul core. An awakening process without the risks and the necessary materials involved. Made possible with the catalyst you have.”
“A catalyst? I don’t have a cataly—” asked Hiram. “Mother's necklace."
Vincent nodded. “Yes, the soul stone embedded in the necklace your mother gave you,” he said.
Hiram could only look on with widened eyes.
“The soul stone is utilized en masse by sorcerers to cultivate their soul cores. It’s how it still remains around your neck, even if you’ve become a ghost. It's a common gift given to children your age to keep the nightmares away. A common gift that symbolizes a mother’s love... But also the only catalyst to awaken a dormant soul core.”
"But you’re going to disappear!” Hiram tried to move, but as much as he tried, he could not. He was bound until the absorption process was over.
"What of it? Haven't I already told you that is my only wish?" said Vincent. It seemed that despite their short time together, he had grown fond of Hiram. He thought that perhaps it was because he absorbed Hiram's memories. But this fondness, while the universe may have forced it, he did not truly deny.
Finally, Hiram’s soul core began shining brightly while Vincent slowly disappeared.
“Vincent!”
“You are now Awakened, Hiram,” said Vincent and warned Hiram to be careful of his enemies. To hide until he’s strong enough. To hide until he can grasp his goals with his own two hands.
“Hiding makes you no coward,” Vincent said. “Bide your time, and strike when the time is right.”
“Vincent, I don’t –,” Hiram said before Vincent interrupted him.
Vincent looked back to Talia, studying her features of desperation, pain, and regret. “But most of all, no mother deserves to see their children die,” said Vincent. “Especially not in her own embrace.”
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Hiram pursed his lips and looked at his mother.
“Farewell, Hiram," said Vincent as his form slowly disappeared.
Hiram bowed before him. “Thank you, Vincent. Thank you,” said Hiram as he clenched his jaw. “Thank you.”
Vincent smiled and gave him a casual wave before his form dissipated into a thin mist.
⁂
The clocks of time had started turning once more. In denial and despair, Talia called out for Hiram’s name, her eyes no longer able to shed more tears. Then Hiram opened his eyes to look at her and smiled.
Talia widened her eyes and clutched her son into a tight embrace. “My baby, I thought I lost you... I thought I lost you... You scared me, Hiram. Don’t scare me, please,” pleaded Talia as her body shook in relief.
Once, she was both the pinnacle of power and grace, but she was now so weak, like a delicate, fragile glass. As if to break in any moment. Hiram's eyes turned red and watery, knowing the inevitable. Instead, he told her how much he loved her.
Then they sat on the grass to watch the starry sky.
Talia hugged Hiram from behind, her heart heavy with a mixture of sadness and joy, realizing that this would be the last time she would be with her son. She couldn't bring herself to let go of him. So, she held him tightly, relishing in the warmth of his embrace and the beating of his heart.
Even Hiram, as if oblivious, didn't want to bring attention to what was to come. So he talked about his studies and shared with her the things he had learned.
As they talked, the fireflies danced around them, and Talia pointed out the constellations, teaching him their names and the stories behind them. Even in the face of death, she remained radiant, her love for him and her love for life shining through.
The hours passed, and eventually, the sky began to turn bright, signalling the arrival of dawn. Despite her weakened state, Talia's face was filled with serenity and a sense of peace. She leaned her chin against Hiram's head and whispered, "I love you, my child."
Hiram felt his heart swell with emotions, but he held back the tears that threatened to fall. He knew that this was the end, but he didn't want to accept it. He hugged her and whispered, "I love you too, mom."
As the sun rose, casting its warm rays upon them, Talia's hold on him began to loosen, and her body became lighter. Hiram knew that she was gone, but he held on to her, refusing to let go, not wanting to let go. He cried then, tears streaming down his face, for the woman who had loved him unconditionally and given him life.
The meadow was silent except for Hiram's sobs as he sat there holding on to his mother's body, surrounded by the beauty of the flowery meadow and the warmth of the sun. He knew that even though she was no longer with him, her love would always be with him, forever etched in his heart.
⁂
It was raining that day in the city of Edares, the capital of Alardice. Usually filled with life and energy, with its cobblestone streets typically lined with horse-drawn carriages and people walking to and fro, it was now empty. A wondrous city built on a coast, the only signs of energy were at the harbour. Even so, it was only filled with minimal activity, allowing ships from all over the world to arrive to unload their goods. On the horizon, the ocean stretched out endlessly, its waters a deep shade of blue.
Edares is a massive city divided into different districts, each with its unique character and atmosphere. Among them is the downtown area filled with elegant storefronts and grand buildings belonging to the city's businesses or guilds. While its streets were normally crowded with people going about their business, from merchants selling their wares to well-dressed ladies and gentlemen out for a leisurely stroll – today, a funeral procession is passing by.
There were many horse-drawn carriages carrying caskets. Their clops of horse hooves and the rumble of carriage wheels echoed through the streets.
Hiram, donning a simple black suit, wore a cloak while its hood hid his features. He followed the procession’s tail. They were heading toward St. Claire’s Cathedral, Edares’ grandest architecture.
The streets leading to the cathedral were lined with mourners, all dressed in black as a sign of respect for the deceased. The air was heavy with sadness and grief as people whispered prayers and words of condolences to one another. The cobblestone streets were slick with rain, adding to the sombre atmosphere.
After what seemed like walking forever, Hiram lifted his head. As he walked, Hiram couldn't help but be struck by memories. Oh, how he remembered walking the streets of Alardice with his parents then.
He remembered the smells that filled the air. He remembered the aroma of roasting meats and freshly baked bread wafting from the street vendors and open-air markets dotting the city. The salty tang of the ocean, just beyond the city's borders, was ever-present, mixing with the smell of the sea breeze that blew in from the harbour.
Hiram smiled to himself as a tear fell down his cheek. Because now, there is no delicious aroma but only the salty tang of the ocean.
He halted and watched the procession head toward the grand cathedral, its spires rising high into the grey sky, while the street leading to the cathedral’s gates was lined with black lanterns that lit the wet cobblestone.
When Hiram saw the cathedral, it was constructed with soft, white creamy bricks, and the roof was a deep shade of navy with golden trimmings. He also saw the towering structure embellished with intricate carvings and sculptures.
A pair of stone angels with wings spread wide stood at the main entrance as if to guard the cathedral’s ornate doors, adorned with gold filigree and carved scenes depicting devotion to the teachings of Mikhail.
As the carriages stopped and the caskets were brought to the Cathedral, Hiram and the procession followed in.
Inside, white light passed through the cathedral’s stained glass windows, casting a soft glow over the marble floors and pillars. The ceiling was impossibly high, with intricate frescoes of angels and cherubs surrounding paintings of saints.
The grand cathedral was silent as the caskets were carried in, each with wreaths of white flowers and ribbons. Then the sound of footsteps echoed through the hall as the pallbearers, all dressed in black, slowly made their way down the aisle. The caskets were placed in front of the altar, about three dozen of them, surrounded by flickering candles and bouquets of flowers.
The choir, dressed in flowing white robes, stood on a loft above the altar. Their angelic voices filled the air with a chorus of grief. Hiram and the mourners filled the pews, their eyes red and faces etched with sadness. Some clutched handkerchiefs, struggling to hold back tears, while others stared blankly at the caskets, still in denial.
Outside, the streets were packed with people who could not fit inside. They stood in silence, heads bowed in respect as they listened to the sounds of the choir's singing.
The city of Edares was in mourning.
⁂
Thousands of people had gathered at St. Claire’s for the state funeral of Lucius, Talia, and Hiram, as well as the member of the civil guards all slain during the Tragedy of Crestmore.
The funeral was long, but it eventually came to an end. Hiram made his way to the altar after Hamili’s eulogy. He blended among the other children carrying bouquets of flowers. His steps were slow and heavy as he approached the ornate caskets that contained the remains of his parents.
He knelt before them, tears streaming down his face as he said a final goodbye.
“Mom... Dad... I’ll finish what you started. I’ll finish it, even if I must stain my hands with blood,” whispered Hiram. Then he wiped his tears and stood up, walking to the entrance and making his exit.
Only a few truly knew he was still alive – those he could trust.
He looked at the grey sky, watching the clouds part as the first streak of sunlight caressed his cheeks. Then he looked at all the people outside, thousands still in mourning and their heads bowed down.
He then walked toward the harbour where he would, for the first time, leave his home – toward a faraway land in the west – Ecus, where the rest of the Crestmore family awaited him.
⁂
The sound of seagulls and the salty scent of the ocean filled Hiram’s senses as he neared the harbour.
He eventually found himself standing before a large ship, its mast towering above him and its white sails billowing in the wind. He spotted an elderly man leaning against the railings, his long dark hair tied back in a low ponytail and his piercing green eyes trained on Hiram as he approached.
"Mister Asahi," Hiram said as he stopped before him.
"Hiram," Asahi replied with a nod. "Ready to set sail?"
Hiram nodded in silence.
Asahi straightened up and gestured toward the ship. "Then let's get on board. We've got a long journey ahead of us."
Hiram followed Asahi onto the ship, taking in the busy hustle and bustle of the crew as they prepared for departure. He couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness as he thought about everything he was leaving behind in Alardice. But he knew it was necessary.
He had to leave to become stronger and eventually make his return.
Hiram gave Alardice a final glance, and with a deep breath, he turned his gaze toward the horizon and the adventures that lay ahead.