Exiting Mr. Ruleten’s head I come back into my own mind and body. Thorne is staring at me as he continues to grip Callahan’s shoulders. The latter who’s still slumped into me and drenching my shirt with his tears.
He should not be having this severe of a reaction.
But then again, I nearly let go of my control over my true devil when I saw her. Illogically I would say it was with good reason. Those scars, the markings, they couldn’t have just happened from accident. And they couldn’t have just been from her trying to distract herself from the devil. Those were torture marks.
But I must think logically.
Gripping Callahan’s sides, I pull him away from me and up. Easily lifting him so his face is level with mine even though his legs have given out. I’d almost say he looks pathetic, but I can’t even think that with everything else that has happened. He needs me and knowing Callahan he does not need any weaknesses pointed out at the moment.
Tears continue to stream down his face in rapid succession. Red already rims his eyes and snot has started to drip down his nose. He looks worse than distraught. He looks as if someone has just ripped out his. . .
I look past Callahan to Thorne and his eyes widen just as the thought enters my mind.
But. . . thatcan’t be possible.
Except I look back to Callahan’s eyes, the splintered rawness within, and somehow I know.
“She’s your fated,” I breathe, barely more than an exhale of breath. But it’s as if I shouted it with the way everyone else jerks back.
And I see it. I can see it all within his eyes. The only way to physicallysee, to look upon the soul of another. Callahan pauses his turmoil as I watch the embodiment of his soul. A soul that is torturing him because the one who links with him is not here. That is why it was possible for his true devil to be able to communicate with me. Why it wants her.
So much is seen through his gold eyes. So many answers I’m given.
Staring into the eyes of a true devil or angel is like staring at endlessness. It’s the nothingness between stars. But looking upon a soul through the eyes of another is like the universe giving you every answer to everything and nothing.
A true form is more than just what we are on the inside. A true form, the reason its power can surpass gods, is because it’s an embodiment of fate. And Callahan’s fate is death.
“She can’t be gone, Varian,” he mumbles, his voice choked with emotional torture. “She can’t – “
Another sob escapes him and I bring him into my chest for a proper hug. A proper grip on him as his tears continue rolling down his cheeks and onto my shoulder. I’m sure what he’s feeling right now is nearly unbearable.
Catching Thorne’s eye, I barely manage to get the words I need to say out.
“Get Castiel, now.”
I need someone else knowledgeable in these things. Someone who has traveled farther than I ever have. Who knows things I would never be able to learn.
Thorne doesn’t hesitate as he lets Callahan go and disappears like a crack of lightning. A lingering scent of copper and ozone accompanies twisting shadows from where he was just standing.
Finding your fated, it’s like a piece finally clicking into place with your soul. It’s feeling at peace even though you didn’t know you weren’t already there. And losing your fated. . . that’s having your soul ripped apart.
Looking up at the mage and vampyr, I know they’re both clueless about what to do next, but unfortunately I’m with them. I try searching the shelves of my memory about anything that could help us figure out what happened. Unless she was able to somehow teleport or fold or shadow twist. But none of the techniques from those forms of transportation would leave ashes behind.
The only way I know for a being to be replaced by ashes is if a vampire is exposed to sunlight for a certain period of time. Eventually they are reduced to ashes. But there was no sunlight exposed. There wasn’t even any warmth hinting at a sun summoning spell or a golden runic casting.
There is no explanation I can find for what has happened.
There isn’t –
She can’t be gone.
Beings can’t disappear just straight out of thin air. There is always a remanent of magic or aura or energy or –
Unless she is dead.
But even then there would be some sort of lasting feel of something. No one can completely hide their aura without some sort of fluctuation. It’s impossible.
I was given so many answers, all but the ones I need. For twice in my life I don’t have the answers. I don’t know what to do. I don’t –
