“But at this moment, I’d like you to know me by a name.” He thinks long and hard, as if pondering which he’d prefer.
“So if I call, you’ll answer?” I arch a brow.
His unsettling smile is his response. Such sorrow is evoked by its melancholic angle. Sometimes Everett would look at melike that. “No, Selene. This will be the only time you see me.” He glances at Tristen.
“I told you, talking with him is like pulling teeth,” Tristen groans. He keeps his footing and blade aimed at the old man.
The old man chuckles. “Perhaps I am teaching you patience. You will need it in the days to come. But you may call me Elderan.”
“Elderan,” I repeat. “Why do I see you as a fae?”
“Does it not make you more comfortable?”
“I’d rather face the truth.”
His grin pulls unevenly. “Are you sure? It will hurt us both.”
Tristen moves closer. “Are we sure?”
“Yes.”
Elderan’s hooded eyes meet mine. “Very well.”
Tristen shields me with his body as light bursts all around us. I anticipate pain. Death. I feel nothing, just light so bright I can not see or hear. Am I floating?
Tristen’s arms hold me tighter as panic sets in. His body is a mountain, shaking; his voice is a distant roar of an avalanche, desperately seeking to clear everything in its way. His shadows fail to protect us. Elderan’s light proves to be an unstoppable force.
“Enough,” Elderan softly states. The light vanishes, but Tristen and I are so jolted we can’t see. “I warned you. I’ll stay in this state of time-worn flesh.”
My hands move frantically, feeling the stone floor, sensing my surroundings. Tristen’s hands move across my body. “It’s me,” I tell him. His warm breath brushes against the nape of my neck. “I’m fine,” I tell him. “Are you?”
“I think so, but I can’t see yet,” he rasps.
“Me neither,” I reply warily.
“While your senses are recovering, you both will sit down and listen,” Elderan orders. “I already told Tristen many things.”
Tristen snorts, “I don’t get the feeling your mother was a fae.”
“I like to observe; that was not a lie. She did raise me, but she was not the first nor the last. As I mentioned, I come and go. She did have the power of hindsight. I just happened to know the story, but I respected her, sat down, and played my part of a child so she could mother me.”
“So you’re a psycho who likes to play mommy fetish.” Tristen shifts so he’s in front of me. Everything is blurry now; that’s good. Soon I’ll see clearly.
“No. But if I do not walk in your shoes, how can I understand? So I do. Sometimes, I am a child; other times, an old man. Once, I was a falcon; that visit was ended when an arrow claimed me. I remember when I visited as a dragon. The views were the same, but the falcon was much slower.”
“You’re a shifter?” I ask. However, I’ve never heard of shifters changing into forms like that.
“No,” he replies. “What I am matters not. My purpose here is to aid in your survival. Evil has flourished in the absence of the runes.”
My heart sputters, my fingers inch out, seeking Tristen’s hand. “You speak as if you are a god.”
“Gods can be killed. I’m different. No matter what happens, you can only trust two things, Selene. There will always be a beginning and an end. Kingdoms can fall; it gives an opportunity for more to rise. Worlds can shatter, but it just creates more energy for others to clash together and form. A beginning and an end. A genesis and a demise,” he repeats. His eyes bounce back and forth darkly, like someone quickly turning pages so the reader can’t stop and study the details.
I lick my lips, trying to sound more curious than I am petrified. “Just tell us what you are?”
“You seem like you truly care.” His lips twitch. “It can’t hurt,” he mutters to himself. “I am a Genesis.”
“So you start things?”
