Rueln Layheart

My small hands clung to my older sister's skirts as we stood in the hallway of our home. My brother was screaming in the other room. I pressed my face into her leg to try to block it out. It was gut-wrenching to listen to—a sound I would never forget.

While my sister took me outside to distract me, my father attempted to calm my brother down. I could hear him speaking through the thin walls, but I didn't hear the words past my brother's cries. Nothing worked. Curled up against my sister's side, I listened and waited, trying my best not to cry too.

It took longer than I want to admit for me to feel brave enough to visit my brother's room when it was quiet. Papa and my sister were talking in soft voices by the fireplace. They were acting so serious and sad but didn't explain why my big brother had been crying. They had been so excited all week, leaving so my brother could do something very important with Papa because he was a big boy now. No one told me it would make you sad to be a big boy.

When I thought Papa and sister didn't see, I got up from the cushion and went to stand in the shadow by the bedroom door. Leaning against the wall with my thumb in my mouth like I was still a baby, I stared at the door, too scared to reach up and push it open. I sniffed, wondering if I should go back to Papa, when I heard my brother's voice. "Come in, Rueln. It's okay."

Slowly, my small hands pushed at the door, and I hurried inside. I ran to my brother and threw myself under our blanket as if he might scream at me. Laying down beside him, I pressed as close as I could to his body, shaking with fear and confusion. He didn't speak or move his arm to hug me like he usually did, but he didn't move away either. That was okay. He was sad, so I wiggled closer and hugged him instead, my smaller arms wrapping around his neck.

His body shuddered against mine. He let out a long sigh, sniffing to keep himself from crying again. His cheeks were cold, still damp with tears as I pressed my face against his and tightened my arms. I didn't want Eidke to be sad anymore. A whimper escaped my trembling lips before I lost my battle at last and sobbed.

"No be sad, Eidke. No cry anymore," I pleaded, snot running down my nose and into his hair, but he didn't seem to mind.

Eidke slowly sat up, bringing me up with him before he slowly wrapped his arms around me to hug me back. The blanket slid off us to the floor as a choked sound climbed up his throat. "Okay," he promised as the door behind us slid open. "I'm sorry, Rueln." He said, “okay,” but I knew he was crying again. It didn't seem like he was okay.

I shifted, turning my head to look back at the sound of footsteps, and saw my father and my older sister, Aleah, coming back into the room with worried expressions.

Aleah kneeled down on Eidke's other side and wrapped her arms around us both. Eidke leaned into her as she combed her fingers through his hair, soothing him. Softly, Aleah sang, the sweet sound filling the room. Eidke used to tell me that Mama did that to us all when we got sick, but I never could remember. For me, it had always been Aleah. She felt more like my mother than those stories ever did. I knew she would make Eidke feel better. Mom's were good at that.

Papa sat beside us, one hand rubbing Eidke's back comfortingly, while the other went to my hair, mimicking Aleah. His hand was rough and warm, and in that one touch, I could feel how much he loved us. Papa would always keep us safe. He was always there and would make it better. I believed that with all my heart. I was wrong.

It acted like a curse. My father explained that when someone lives their life well, they can regain the memories of their past life without harm. However, if the gods believed you abused your gifts, you pay for it in the next life. This payment was called backlash.

Eidke had gone to the capital Hall of Memory today to be tested for 'Recall.' He had passed, gaining his memories of his former life as a renowned seer, but the price had been too high. While he regained his memories, the backlash had taken its toll on his body, condemning him for sins of a life that had long since ended. It had stolen what he had abused in his previous life.

My brother was blind.

When the day finally came, when it was my turn to be tested, all I wanted to do was cling to my sister's hand. My brown eyes stared up at the imposing building, and the crowd of people pooling along the entrance and exit and spreading out into the grounds looked frightening to me. My hand tightened in my sister's, only for her soft laughter to fill my ears. I looked up accusingly at her, but she shook her head and gently extracted my hand from around her fingers.

"You're five years old, Rueln. You’re a big boy now. You can't keep holding onto my hand forever," she chided softly.

I reached for her hand again, not ready to let go, only for my father to kneel and pull me against him for a hug. I was angry now, pushing my unease and fear down, if only for the moment. "It's not fair, Papa!" I complained, rejecting my father's embrace. "Why can't Aleah and Eidke come too?" I demanded, crossing my arms. After I said it, however, I gave my brother a worried glance, realizing that even if he could, Eidke might not want to.

"Because it's Papa's honor to go," Aleah answered, poking my puffed-up cheeks and forcing the air out of my lips. Usually, it would be what made me lose my pout and smile, but not today. It just served as a reminder that I was stalling.

"Your brother and sister will wait for you right here when we come out," Papa promised, chucking my chin so I would look up at him. "Okay?"

"Okay…" I sulked, turning to look over at my siblings. Both smiled at me, encouraging me to take Papa's hand and follow him as he led me away, but I had to wave back at them one last time before I lost sight of them. Aleah waved first, then reached over to lift Eidke's hand up so he could know to do it too. The crowd closed in around Papa and me before I could see their hands fall back to their sides.

Bodies crowded in close, bumping into me or cutting in front of us. I nearly got separated from Papa twice before he realized and picked me up. Held in his powerful arms, I swiveled my head left and right, taking in the sight.

I couldn’t imagine anything else grander than the Hall of Memory. Angular pillars rose into the sky, framing the three dome-shaped structures carved from white stone. Gold, silver, and even the occasional copper intercity intertwined into each dome in a way that looked to be etched by gods. The whole thing glittered in the morning sunlight, so beautiful that I knew it had to be magic even if I had never seen it before.

I must have been staring for longer than I thought because the next thing I knew, Papa's chest rumbled with amusement, and he pushed my open jaw shut. "You'll catch beast flies with that if you keep it up," he teased before pressing through the crowd. I tucked my chin in against my chest with embarrassment as he continued. "It is pretty amazing here, though," Papa admitted. "I remember when I first saw it back during my trial of memory. I probably had the same expression." Papa turned his head and smirked at me, then he pointed to a long line of parents and children near the furthest door, units of guards from the Hall of Memory around them to help keep order and hold the crowd back. "We'll go over there and get in line."

I nodded, and Papa set me down once we made it through the worst of the blockade of people. He took my hand so we wouldn't lose each other. As we got closer to the line, a guard stopped us and asked to see our passes. Papa dug around in his worn coat, checking his pockets for a moment before he pulled out a rolled bit of parchment and handed it over. The guard studied it, then nodded before looking down at me, his gaze almost… bored.

"Everything seems in order. Give me your hand, boy," he ordered, and after glancing up at my father for permission, I lifted my hand.

The man grabbed it and turned my arm over to expose my wrist before gliding a rune emblazoned stone across my skin. I yanked my arm back with a cry as runes of blue blazed across my skin before they faded away. I gave the guard an accusing look before moving in a little closer to my Papa's side.

The guard ignored me and repeated it with my father before addressing him. "The line begins over there.” He pointed. “The marking on your wrists will get you both inside for the trial and fade when you leave. If your son experiences recall within the building, a staff member will come to assist you and note it for the records. Please do not linger in the hall and continue through the marked displays as instructed. Do not stray from the walkways. Your trial will end, and a guard will escort you out. Is this understood?"

"Yes, guardsman," Papa confirmed with a respectful bow. I copied him, but mine wobbled a bit since I was trying to watch Papa out of the corner of my eye to make sure I was doing it right. "Thank you."

The guard huffed and moved on to the next parent and child pair while Papa led me over to the line, and we began our long wait. My hands went to clutch at my father's tunic, wrinkling the worn fabric in my fists, but he didn't seem to mind. It didn't take him more than a few minutes to strike up a conversation with another father of a little girl who looked as if she were about my age. I stared at her in silence since I wasn't the best at talking with strangers, watching her crane her neck to look around with interest.

She had blonde hair braided into a crown around her head that left most of it free to stream down her shoulders. The tunic she wore was a deep red, embroidered with white rose petals along the hem and across her waist like a belt. She looked pretty in it all, dressed for a special occasion.

It was leagues ahead of the simple green tunic I wore, faded and wrinkled from the trip here. I looked down at myself self-consciously, then around at other children, disheartened to see that most wore finer garments than me, and there were even a few nobles dressed in lavish grandeur. Everyone looked so nice for their trial of memory, but I couldn't say the same for us.

I was picking at a stain from breakfast when the girl turned and caught sight of me, her blue eyes alight. "Are you here for the trial, too?" she asked, but before I could even nod, she laughed at herself. "Of course you are; I can see the rune on your wrist." Thrusting her own wrist out, she showed me hers. "I'm starting in the blue hall, too. I'm excited to find my past life. Oh, I bet you are too. Mother said she could tell I was someone important. Who do you think you'll be?"

I shrugged my shoulders, not having an answer, but she didn't seem to mind. I just stared at her as she continued to chatter at me, finding it hard to control my expression. Do all girls talk like this when they get excited? The only example I really had was Aleah, but she never kept up a conversation like this, answering her own questions. It was ridiculous. Was this one alright in the head? It would be rude if I asked…

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"OH!" the girl exclaimed after a moment, sucking in a deep breath and offering her hand to me again. She was just bursting with energy. "That's right, I don't know your name. I'm Bria Gracy. It's nice to meet you."

"I'm R-," I began, but Bria’s father interrupted me to catch her attention. The line had moved while they were talking.

"Come on, Bria," the man said, sounding less patient than my father ever was. "That's enough. Your trial is about to begin."

"Bye," I murmured, half-heartedly raising my hand to wave as her father dragged her after him.

"Come on," Papa said, nudging my back. "We should get going too."

The line flowed as people walked through the now open doors, staff splitting pairs between three different entrances depending on the markings on their wrists. As we passed, I held up mine as my Papa instructed. We followed our group through the furthest left door into a slowly curving hallway lined on either side with hundreds of small items arranged in neat rows nearly from floor to ceiling. Guards and staff lined either side every few feet, ensuring that no one tried to steal anything as the children searched for something that would trigger their recall.

As we walked, I kept looking at everything, trying to take it all in. I tried just a little. I did, but nothing really stood out to me. Papa and even Eidke had explained what was supposed to happen when I saw something that belonged to my past life, how it was supposed to shimmer to my eyes alone and draw my attention. Despite that, nothing I saw was remotely interesting enough except for a display that looked like a sword attached to a false arm. I bet that would have been pretty cool to swing around.

Minutes dragged into hours as we kept up the walk, back and forth, upstairs, through the maze that made up the Hall of Memory. As grand as it all was, the novelty of it was well and truly gone before we made it to the second of the Halls. I caught glimpses of the girl, Bria, and her father here and there, but they stayed ahead of us. They moved through the displays as if they had done it all before. Could you even come to this place more than once? Were you allowed to take a trial a second time? I couldn't say for sure.

"Now, I don’t want you to be disappointed that you have found nothing yet," Papa told me, taking my frown of confusion for being upset. "We still have most of this hall, and the next to go through, and at the end, there is a room full of silver nameplates with names and the essences of people magically tied to them. It has the same effect as the relics here."

I nodded and kept looking, my heart not really into it. Yeah, maybe I was a little disappointed, but not for the reasons my father thought. This entire thing, with the trial of memory, looking for something that was connected to a past life I may or may not have had, it all seemed like a deliberate show. I don't know, it just felt… like a waste of time.

There had to be a better way of doing this, and it wasn't like anyone had a choice to go to these things. It was a requirement of every kid when they turned five. Even I could see that it was practically impossible to come in and find something that could have belonged to you in a past life. Even if most of the kids here were reincarnations, the odds weren't good that their lives were ever significant enough for people to bother collecting their possessions to place in this hall. Maybe my past life was one of them. It would mean I wouldn't have to worry about finding my past life at all. I didn't have to be afraid that I wouldn't be me anymore if I recalled or… that the gods would curse me with backlash like Eidke…

My feet stopped moving, and I lowered my gaze, staring down at my hands as I clenched them into fists to hide the fact I was shaking. That was it. That was the real reason I hadn't wanted to come, because coming here scared me.

Against my will, my bottom lip quivered. I don’t want to be a baby, I thought, my eyes growing blurry as tears threatened to spill over. Sniffing, I hurried to rub my face, refusing to allow myself to be caught crying in the middle of this place with so many strangers around. Instinctively, my arms pulled in against my chest, and I clutched at the fabric of my tunic like I was clinging to Aleah's skirts again. Did anyone see?

Papa was so engrossed with viewing the relics, he didn’t notice when I wasn’t next to him anymore. He was all smiles, his eyes alight with anticipation as he turned this way and that, laughing as another child ran into him because she wasn’t paying attention. How could he be so relaxed here at this terrible place? I couldn’t understand it.

I don't want to be here…

Even as the thought entered my mind, I forced my feet to move and followed Papa. I sniffed, wiping quickly at my face to hide my shameful tears before he could notice them. I just wouldn't touch anything, even if I saw something. Papa didn't have to know, and I wouldn't get sick with backlash like Eidke. That fixed everything. Yet, a deep worm of guilt weeded itself into my belly at the thought that I would disappoint my Papa today.

I lowered my eyes and kept walking, unable to bring myself to look at anything else, until a hand grasped my shoulder and gently shook me. "Rueln," Papa said, his gruff voice full of patience and understanding. "Don't let it disappoint you, son. You'll find something in here. I know it."

That wasn’t it, Papa. I didn’t want to find anything. “Okay,” I replied, and hesitantly pulled my eyes up again, only to pause as we passed a roped off hallway. The light was dimmer there, shadows clinging like spiderwebs to the walls. Despite that, it held all of my attention, more than any of the relics I’ve seen yet. Why did something down there feel so… familiar?

My sudden stop caught my father off guard, and he moved past me only to slow and turn. "Rueln, this way, son. That’s off-limits. You heard the guard at the doors," Papa said, holding his hand out to me to take.

I looked at his hand, then at the rope that separated me from the dark hallway, unable to explain why I wanted to leave the bright halls for that creepy-looking place. It just felt… like home. Pursing my lips, I reached for the rope, only for Papa's hand to wrap around my wrist and pull me away. "But—" I started, turning to look up at my father, who shook his head at me.

"No," he said firmly. "We're not allowed. Now that's enough, Rueln."

Chastised, I nodded but couldn't help but look back once more before the dark hall was out of sight.

* * *

Keibrayith Eless'hara

I held my breath with my back against the wall, my hand clutched around the necklace I always wore, the cold metal biting into my palm. It had been close, far too close for my comfort. I hadn't expected the child to look when he did, but he almost caught me.

Although my lungs complained, and I had to listen past a pounding heart, I waited.

"Rueln," his father called to him, "this way, son. That’s off-limits. You heard the guard at the doors."

Rueln. So that is his name. He's so young. My eyes drifted down to my necklace; the golden ten-pointed star was pointing up the hall, back to the boy. The small crystal chamber at the star's center glistened, urging me to follow the arrow, but I had come as close as I was willing.

It's him.

I closed my fingers around the star and slipped it back inside my tunic. Now was not the time to be sentimental. I couldn't allow him to see me. Even if I did, neither he nor his family would understand why I trekked across the empire to find him. I would just do as I have always done and keep my distance.

"But—" he murmured, but his father had lost patience with him and didn't let him continue.

"No," he said firmly. "We're not allowed. Now that's enough, Rueln."

Yes. Take him away, I mouthed silently, my eyes locked on the opposite wall. I couldn't believe I was hiding from a five-year-old, but here I was, waiting around a corner for the pair to leave. I didn't have to wait long, for after his father had chastised him, I could hear their voices no more. Cautiously, I peeked around the corner but saw only other parents and children walk by on their quest to find relics of their pasts.

What a crude and impractical system. The likelihood of anyone finding something that belonged to a past life was negligible. There were far more precise ways, but humans seemed too nearsighted and powerless to see it. In the centuries, I have spent trekking back and forth across the continent; the evidence of that was abundantly clear. It was a pointless matter. As a short-lived race, the only thing they had to rely on was their inaccurate histories and their own life experiences.

It was no wonder my people thought of them as an inferior species. Why wouldn't they, when their own bodies could reject their soul’s magical signature? It was primitive, and none of them had ever bothered to develop remedies for such occasions. Instead, they blamed it on the sins of past lives accumulating their punishment. Ignorant fools, all of them, to blame a child for something that was not their fault.

My iridescent orange eyes shifted under the hood of my cloak as I remembered the expression I had seen on Rueln's face when I had dared get a closer look at him. His honey-brown gaze had shone with unshed tears as he clutched at his shirt in what could only be fear. It had almost moved me to go to him, to break my word and speak to the boy, but I didn't. He had his father, as blind as the human was to the boy's emotions.

Rueln had no need for me.

Sighing, I finally allowed myself to move back into the main hall, slipping under the rope and into the crowd without bringing attention to myself. I just needed to get out of this accursed building. The boy would be fine. It wasn't as if there was anything here that he could touch to trigger a reca—

Shouts on the floor above jerked me from my thoughts. I couldn't hear what they were saying. Too many voices rising at once, but I needed to find out. Whatever it was, it was where the boy had just gone with his father.

I hit the stairs, forcefully keeping myself back with the crowd as everyone went to look. As we climbed the spiraling rise, I listened, focusing not on the ignorant people dragging their children along with me, but those ahead of us. As the voices became clearer, however, my concern grew.

"I can't believe it!"

"A blessing! The gods have blessed us!"

"Our empire will flourish!"

"Praise be!"

"A new age will surely come from this!"

I shoved my way through the people blocking the hall, teeth clenched in irritation at the gawking humans. All the while, I searched for the boy and his father, wondering if I had been wrong. Maybe he had found a relic of his past life among the hoard of junk the humans had collected. As the murmurs and praises grew, so too did my sense of urgency until, at last, I was in a place I could see for myself.

There he was. The boy and his father were at the edge of the crowd, his father holding him to avoid someone hurting the child. They were staring across the small space at a little girl clutching a silver dagger's hilt with black engravings down its blade. She was unconscious, her father hovering over her with a staff member of the Hall. They were preparing the girl to be transported to one of the infirmary rooms so she could integrate with her memories without the oppressing crowd gawking at her.

"The empress Vhal Aairith has been found…" a woman beside me whispered in awe.

"The empress…"

"Praise be…"

More murmurs filled my ears, but I ignored them all, my eyes unable to look away. "That's… impossible," I whispered, then shifted my gaze to the boy only for my breath to freeze as I met his honey brown eyes, staring at me in curiosity.

I instinctively reached for my pendant again, clutching at the star underneath my tunic, and turned away. The empress Vhal Aairith, reincarnated into that little girl? No. I shook my head. It made little sense.

My hand tightened around my treasure, and I paused for a moment to pull it back out and stare down at the glowing arrow telling me to turn back. I lost myself in the little trinket, tempted, if only for a heartbeat, to obey. Closing my eyes, I slipped it back into my shirt and kept walking. I would not break. I've come too far to allow myself to be that weak. Even as I tried to reassure myself, I knew I would find the boy again soon. There were too many questions now that needed to be answered.

"Be safe, Rueln," I whispered as I pushed open the doors out of the building. I needed to leave, blending into the crowd before the word could spread about the empress's return. Whatever was happening, I knew the boy would find himself at the center. It seemed like in this lifetime, fate was twisting itself around him, determined to have its way. "Not again," I promised him. I would not let the cycle repeat.