Heath only focused on the plan. Until Cynes returned with his stone of the map, they wouldn’t want to leave the area, no matter how much he’d like to race forward. His soul still pulled him forward, though, urging him with ever-increasing need to get to Ash.
Having a Foraltae was a new experience. There wasn’t a sense of instant love, and had there been, he quite honestly wouldn’t have been able to trust it. But he got a feeling of oneness. He just wasn’t alone anymore. Ash was there, the perfect person built to understand, accept, and walk through life with him. It didn’t mean things couldn’t get rough. Hell, he didn’t know how he’d tell her what had brought him to the In Between in the first place, but at least he had a chance to try.
The issue with her unnamed assailant rankled. Ash had only told him it was the Future Norn. It wasn’t much information to go on. The stories he’d heard about the Norns were few and far in between.
They were always female, controlled the fate of mortals by choosing their destiny upon birth, and they could be petitioned to change one’s fate. Of course, he’d never see the truth of those statements and just had experience with the beliefs.
If Ash were to be believed, they were real.
“Eiravel, what do you know of the Norns?”
Eiravel, leaning against the base of the tree as he sat on the ground, slid his blade over a whetstone. “About fuckall. They were an ancient relic more important during the time of the Beginning when war was high between the Seelie and the Unseelie. Once the two had found some measure of peace, there was no need for them.”
Eiravel spat the word “peace” like it was a curse. Heath couldn’t blame him. The Unseelie and Seelie officially hadn’t been at war with each other in a millennium, but it didn’t stop them from hurting each other in other ways.
Or so he thought.
Heath sighed, frustrated again with the unsure nature of his memories. “You do remember criminals were transported to the opposite faction to serve their time, right? I didn’t just fucking make that shit up?”
Eiravel shook head, still sharpening his blade in smooth, easy strokes. “No. I was branded a murderer. Killed my father, they said. The sentence for patricide was death, but it was commuted to a life of servitude the moment my bastard of an owner took one look at my eyes. Wanted a fighter under his wings. Made enough in the Pits.”
Yeah, that had scarred Eiravel more than anything else. Heath had only seen them once, but from his neck to the tops of his feet, Eiravel was covered in scars ranging from slivers of white skin to taut bunches. The masters didn’t like the pretty faces of their slaves marred, and it was bad for the public image.
No one wanted to admit they used criminals for sport.
Except … not all of them were criminals.
“You didn’t kill your father.”
“Tell that to them, Heath. My father died because he refused to let me be drafted into the Escala. Simple as that. They wanted me, and he stood in their way.”
The Escala were the elite fighting force of the Unseelie. They took men just before they reached their maturity and put them grueling training until they were nothing better than mindless war machines. It was considered an honor to be one, and they were released from duty upon death. Having an Escala in one’s family elevated them from a lower caste instantly and was highly sought after. Eiravel’s battle skill made him a coveted prize.
“Why did he say no? It would have made him rich.”
Eiravel sighed and switched to his other blade. “I am not my father’s eldest son.”
Well, shit. That was news to Heath. He thought Eiravel and Cynes were the only two children, twins of a Fated Pair. It would cause problems if they were ever to pair themselves.
Cynes and Eiravel shared their half of soul. Their Fate would have to accept both of them.
“What happened then?”
“There were two others, older, twins like us. It ran in my mother’s bloodline. Just like Cynes and me, they were battle and metal, two halves of a whole. You see, every battle-powered Fae needs weapons.”
“And the metal worker could provide the best, enchanted with magic stones.”
Eiravel nodded. “In every sense of the word, a match made in heaven. It would have only been better with a Fated Pair to strengthen their power. My brothers were foolhardy, loud, and rambunctious. When they were summoned to the Escala, they took to it like their due. Until … one died. The other went berserk on the field and killed anything within sight. They had to take him down as well. My father lost his sons at one time and never wanted to have more.”
“They died before you were born.”
Again, Eiravel nodded, tucking his blades carefully in their sheaths and wrapping his whetstone. “He never even told us their names, but we knew what happened to them. Why he mourned when my mother had us. The Escala came knocking once more, as he’d expected. This time, he said no. They killed him, and Cynes and I killed them. What would it do to their reputation? Two untried youths having killed a cadre of theirs. We couldn’t be brought into their fold, so they had to destroy us.”
For a Fae, murdering one’s parents or children was the gravest sin. They would have been placed with the harshest owners, pushed to suffer every day. This could not all be a lie.
“I don’t think all our memories are wrong, Heath. I don’t. I know the pain that sliced through my heart when my father was taken from me before my eyes. I remember how my mother’s blood stained the stone floor and her eyes went completely black. I can’t sleep without seeing it.”
Fuck.
