Page 68 of Ever Dark Academy: Volume 6

Remind the Kaly slices that I still exist. That I am still here and a threat. A single, lone threat.

He swept the minds of the other Kaly Vampires he could reach in Lasting. It was not perfect. There were large blank spots where the Kalys had managed to shield themselves from him. But without Artemis those were less than before. Yet there was still a risk that they would feel him in their minds. They’d know he was interfering. Opening the gate to Lasting–when he had closed down every gate–was really insane. Really and truly insane to get involved like this. Their minds were filled with fear and confusion. They were hiding, too. But now they’d been found out and they didn’t know what to do. They’d retreated to Lasting and now that wasn’t safe either.

He’d retreated, too. He didn’t want to admit that. But it was true. Right now, his only goal was to keep as many of his people alive as he could. Including himself, of course. No more dreams of pouring water on the fires of war or calming things down by other means. He was trying to simply wait things out and protect as much as he could. But then he’d read Ashyr’s–or Grayson’s–mind, and not just his, but Weryn, Mirryr and Wyvern’s, too.

Ryder, Charlie and Fiona. This is so ridiculous! Why do they not go by their real names?

Why did they reject their true names? Why did they hide from themselves? But he already knew the answers to these questions. They were all three–or four really since Ashyr apparently valued being Grayson–rejecting what had come before. Who they had been. What they had done. They truly felt that the only way to not make the same mistakes as they had in the past was to simply not know those pasts.

And, evidently, he was the king of that in the future. Convinced that as Balthazar he wasn’t really Eyros and could have clean hands. Clean hands? What did he think he’d done during this War? He’d done only what he’d had to do to survive! Why did he think himself a villain? Why did he fear to know himself?

What was darkly amusing to him was how he was the same both here and in the future. Circumstances might be different, some new lessons learned, but he was the same as he had ever been. And it was those circumstances that truly matter. Because they certainly couldn’t happen now. Kaly being all cuddly with him? Them confessing their darkest secrets to one another? Depending on one another for emotion–good gods!--support? He could never have even imagined such a thing let alone attempted to bridge the gulf between them in the hopes of such a relationship.

They’re rejecting themselves. I’m rejecting myself. Maybe rejection is the way to go since it seems to be working so well.

And it was surprising at how hurt that made him feel, but he should have been angry and insulted. But he was simply hurt. Because he had looked far deeper than Ryder, Grayson, Fiona or Charlie’s minds than they knew, not to mention through their eyes, to this future and it was good.

It is better than that.

And compared to now? It was perfect.

Daemon returned. Nightvallen alive. Humans know about us. New Children. New friendships. New opportunities. So much to learn and enjoy. And we’re doing it together. Not alone. United.

He was never one to admit defeat. But he was defeated. He was reduced. Hiding like a blind mole in his burrow, hoping to be left alone with his other little moles that clung to him for warmth. How pathetic it was.

Part of him was quivering at the very idea of helping them. It would bring danger to him and his people. He should have ignored them. Gods, why hadn’t he ignored them? But that was all part of this being reduced business. No longer the great Immortal Eyros, but a quivering mess.

But has the War taught me I am not some great hero? I’ve lasted so far–longer than many others–but to what end? We’re all afraid. I can feel my people’s fear. It is like a miasma. It has physical heft. We huddle here. Reduced. Fallen.

Charlie was playing quite a good Artemis now. He, evidently, really could use those Kaly powers. But he was nearing his limit in taking over all those skeletons. But it was quite a nice play to have them turn on their “masters” and put their knives to their throats.

Good show, Charlie!

Eyros grimaced, hands tightening into fists, as Charlie’s control of the skeletons slipped. But then, out of nowhere, Ashyr–Grayson!--took over and kept the illusion going. How had he done that?

A few drops of Kaly blood… Good gods, he will have three powers. Ashyr, Weryn and Kaly! While in the future I just have two! That’s not fair… And I’m not even embracing my Kaly powers. Why am I being so foolish?

He wrenched himself away from that useless thought pattern. It was not good to think about that right now in any case. If they actually made it here, he was going to insist that they stop all this playacting at being other people and that when they went to the future they were to shake him. He needed power. He needed to be safe. More power equaled more safety! He couldn’t be afraid…

“Master?” Elgar called him softly, but firmly. “Why are you at the gate to Lasting?”

Eyros grimaced and pinched the top of his nose. Elgar hadn’t even attempted to shield himself, but he’d been so involved in his own self-pity and reflection that he hadn’t noticed. This was bad.

“Elgar, didn’t I tell you to remain back in the city?”

“Yes.” A single word, no prevarication. That was Elgar.

“But here you are. Not in the city as I commanded,” Eyros reminded him.

He heard the soft shush-shush of the grass as his beloved fledgling came to him. The gate to Lasting was in a rather pretty spot on a hill right before the treeline. The moons shone down upon the white stone arch that was three times his height and many more times his width. It stood like a sentinel. He had no gates directly into his main city. That would not have been strategically wise. See? The Immortals had no trust in one another! They did not. They could not. But in the future…

“I am not, Master,” Elgar finally answered as he took his place–as always–by Eyros’ side. “I am here.”

“Yes, so I see. But why are you here?” Eyros asked, his stomach churning.

He’d seen what happened to his bright, bold, courageous Childe in the future. Reduced to madness, clutching his skull, burrowed in the earth… How could he allow that to happen? He couldn’t. But it appeared he could not stop it.

“Because I could tell you are hiding things from me,” Elgar answered. Again, so without prevarication!