It was my weakness that couldn't save us.
So lay your scars out in rows.
So lay your scars out in rows for me.
We were one, and what are we now?

La Dispute - Fairmount

I was dreading my next session so much even Levi told me he was sorry I had to go, that Abby had given me such a hard task. I tried to not think of my previous sessions with Cordelia around him, but I knew he knew how terrible they were for me, that they had only gotten worse since my first with her. When we said our goodbyes his bright blue eyes looked a little too shiny to me, but I hoped it was just my imagination. I never wanted to make my little brother cry.

James buried his Shift as we left the little bench in front of the lake, but this time I could see the tension growing in his muscles, his movements. Ailech met my eyes as we reached the door, giving me a little sympathetic smile as he stood, Ember close behind.

"You could fake a headache, I'd back you." Ailech offered helpfully as I stood outside Cordelia's door, gathering my nerve to knock.

James had been looking more and more like he wanted to ask what I was so obviously dreading, what everyone else seemed to already know. But each time he seemed about to open his mouth, he'd glance to his right and stay quiet instead. I'd already decided to not tell him even if he asked, he would see soon enough anyway. I wished he wouldn't, but I knew he'd join me as an observer for my tolerance lesson just like all the others that day.

I knocked and felt my stomach drop a little more with each rap against the wood. The door swung open and Cordelia stood in its wake, looking somber as ever.

"Hello, Miss Kay, Mr. Darke, Mr. Locklear, Miss Rhyner."

She nodded to each of us in turn politely.

"Our group has grown a bit I hear, Abby tells me Mr. Darke will be with us today, correct?"

He nodded, still looking curious as to what this woman was supposed to teach me. A slight line on his brow told me his Shift was trying to figure out what danger she was, just like mine had tried to warn me upon our first meeting.

"And Miss Rhyner, do you still prefer to wait outside?"

Ember nodded so enthusiastically her hair flew into her face as she stepped further back into the hallway. She had only been to one of my lessons with Cordelia, and from what Ailech said, she left before my first trial was even halfway completed. He had said she was crying. That was when I started to soften up to her, though it didn't matter, she was still terrified of me.

Cordelia closed the door behind me as I walked over to the familiar couch, the one I hated and loved at the same time. I hated what it represented, but I loved feeling it under me, either when I would be able to stay semi-conscious of my environment during a trial, or when I would wake up and realize one more was finished. Usually I stayed aware about a third of the time now, able to still feel my surroundings, able to keep myself quiet, at least mostly.

I sat and Ailech took his seat on the chair across from me, scooting it closer. James hung back, standing by the door, his face blank but his eyes darting between the woman and me, as if he could sense what she could do, as if he'd figured it out. And maybe he had.

I expected Cordelia to address me, as usual, to explain what our lesson would consist of, though it never really mattered, it all felt the same to me, but instead she turned to James.

"Abby recommends you partake in this lesson, to see...so I may have a comparison for Miss Kay, a goal to get her to."

She had almost not even finished speaking before I heard my own voice in the room, though I couldn't remember opening my mouth, or even thinking of the words.

"No! I don't want you using your ke'evel on him, Cordelia. I won't let you."

I swallowed hard and stared at the floor after speaking, feeling my cheeks heat, but not from embarrassment. I would hurt her if she tried to use it on him, I knew I would. I would kill her. He had been through enough with this 'ability' in his childhood.

"I won't use my Gif- my ke'evel on someone unwilling, it is always their choice."

Cordelia's voice sounded even more sorrowful than usual, but I didn't care if I had upset her. I looked up to James to see what his answer would be, knowing I didn't have the right to make him leave if he didn't want to. When I looked up his eyes were on mine, but just for a moment, and I couldn't see any emotion in them anyway. He looked to Cordelia then.

"If it will help to have a benchmark for her, you can use your Gift on me. She didn't mean to insult you, she doesn't know ke'evel. She only just heard me say it when I was speaking of Grayson this morning."

He spoke respectfully, and I found myself surprised both by his decision to allow Cordelia to hurt him, and his apology for my words. I looked down at the carpet again. I saw Cordelia nod slightly when I looked up, and gesture to one of the open armchairs.

"I'd rather stand."

James' dead voice was back, but it seemed more carefully controlled, like he was trying to force it to sound empty, rather than it happening naturally as I had grown used to. I looked up at him, but his face looked just the same as always.

"You will fall," Cordelia answered.

"I don't think so."

When it became apparent James wasn't going to take my tutor's advice, she walked over to her fire, staring into it as she wrung her hands slowly.

"The trials will be decreased to fifteen minutes to accommodate Mr. Darke's additions. I do not wish to lengthen the allotted time Abby has chosen for me."

She paused in front of the fire, and I saw her swallow hard before she spoke again.

"I'm sorry."

Her words felt like ice, though I knew they weren't for me. I knew they marked the beginning of James' first trial and I was almost too afraid to look at him, but when I did he was still standing, just as before, not a single feature different, not a single indicator of what he was feeling.

Cordelia turned around a few moments later to face him, looking at him with her notebook in hand. He merely gave her a watered down smile, the kind that didn't touch any part of his face but the corners of his lips, didn't look real even when I took into account how emotionless he usually looked.

"Can you feel it?" She asked quietly, her pen poised above the paper.

"Yes," James replied flatly.

"And is it not difficult?"

"It isn't pleasant."

His voice was still dull, but I realized he hadn't actually answered her, hadn't actually denied the pain's difficulty. She seemed to not notice as she wrote something in her book.

"And you are completely aware of your surroundings?"

James eyes roved the room for a moment, carefully skipping me before settling back on Cordelia.

"Yes," he replied just as flat again.

Occasionally I saw James' jaw tense, the muscle stand out against his hollow cheeks, making his face look like a skeleton's, but besides that, even I couldn't tell what he was feeling, if he even was feeling anything. Though one look at Cordelia was proof enough, she looked sad, as solemn as she always was, but with something worse in her eyes with each passing minute. She wrote in her notebook every ninety seconds, as I knew she was changing the levels she gave to my Pair, cutting the time between variations in half to oblige the shortened trials.

Once he closed his eyes, but only for a second or two, before he opened them again, staring into the fire instead of at Cordelia. That was the first real indication I saw that he was in any pain, that he was looking to his Sign to help him, drawing strength from the flames as they leapt over one another. Ninety seconds later his first trial was over. James took a deep breath and stretched his neck slightly, cracking it before rolling his shoulders as he stood by the door, just as he had since entering, like he didn't want to come further into the room. His eyes found Cordelia's again and she looked more cheerless than ever.

"I am so sorry for the life you have endured, child." Were her only words to him before she turned to me.

"Are you ready?"

I nodded, not trusting my voice. My eyes found Ailech's as they usually did before a trial. He had been with me for every session with Cordelia, and just seeing him, the weak nod he would give me, the small smile of encouragement, it made me remember that I could do this, that I had done it before, many times. That the pain wasn't something to fear because it would be gone in thirty minutes, now in only fifteen minutes. It was something of a tradition between us.

Even though he didn't know it, I often thought of him as my role model during my lessons with Cordelia, likening my trials to each time I hurt him, either back when we used to spar together, or when he would anger me on purpose and let me hurt him. He understood that pain wasn't lasting, he could heal himself and I would come out of each trial just as unscathed as I had gone into it. I often told myself that if he wasn't afraid of pain, then I shouldn't be either, though I knew the pain of him breaking a rib or his nose was nothing close to what Cordelia gave me. I ignored that difference.

"I'm sorry."

The world disappeared. I had hoped I would be able to still see the room, still feel my seat under me, but I couldn't, everything was a wash of direction and stillness, movement and nothingness. The pain was bearable, but I still couldn't see the room, couldn't see Ailech or Cordelia or the fire or James standing by the door looking like a statue. I squeezed my eyes shut and focused, willed myself to be back in the office...then I opened my eyes and I could see.

My fingers were digging into the couch's edge and I felt every muscle in my body contracting against the pain, but I could see. My eyes found James first, but I quickly dropped them and looked at the door's handle behind him instead, trying to focus on the woodworking around it, on the dark grain, on anything but the pain running over my body, in my skin, my bones. I focused on relaxing small parts of my body, my fingers, then my jaw, my wrists. I inched my head slightly to look at Cordelia and her eyebrows rose before she made a lengthy note in her book.

I tried to focus on anything I could as I waited for the trial to be finished, but in the end I focused on my breathing, on the air entering and leaving my lungs smoothly, on the freeing feeling of it as it flowed in and out of me. I began counting my breaths, trying to slow them as I ignored the pain and as my first trial ended, it was almost easy.

I let out a big breath as the pain disappeared as quickly as it had come, a rush of relief filling me. But then I remembered it was James' turn again and my small feeling of happiness fled. Cordelia spoke after my trial as usual, relaying my progress, or where I had wavered, but I barely heard her. I felt physically ill knowing James was about to feel another fifteen minutes of hell, worse than his first trial. I knew Cordelia enough to know her first test was to get a feel for her student. If she wanted to find my Pair's limits, it would be in her second and third runs.

I wondered where my limits were in comparison to his, but I decided to save that question for once she knew better, once she knew what he could take. I was sure from how she had acted, and how James had acted, that his tolerance was far beyond my own. I clenched my teeth as I waited for them to begin, knowing there was nothing I could do to stop it.

"Will you take a seat now, Mr. Darke, please? Even if you do not need to, it would make me more at ease knowing there is no possibility of me injuring you if you...if your will falters."

James nodded and sat in the empty chair she had pointed to earlier, already staring into the fire, apparently guessing that her second trial would be more difficult just as I had. After a few seconds of silence Cordelia apologized as she always did and James closed his eyes, biting down so his cheekbones stood out too starkly, casting a shadow down his face.

Halfway between three and four minutes Cordelia asked if he was aware of his surroundings and he replied with a curt nod. At five minutes she asked if he could see. He opened his eyes slightly, his pupils blown out, the black too large, though I knew he wasn't Shifting, before closing them again and nodding once more. She wrote her answers in her book. At seven minutes I saw James' hand twitch before he closed it into a fist by his leg's side in the chair. And at eleven minutes he lowered his head, his chin sinking close to his chest as it rose and fell rhythmically, his head barely turned to one side like he was listening for something, his face slightly turned away from where I sat on the couch.

At fourteen minutes I could hear his breaths occasionally come out a bit heavier than normal, not quite panting, but close. I realized my own were coming in short bursts before I made myself take in slow, even breaths. Thirty seconds later his eyes opened, and I could have sworn I saw a flash of the old him in their depths before he looked dead again, but by the time Cordelia turned to me I convinced myself that I had only thought I'd seen it.

Cordelia looked at me and I could almost see her thoughts, feel her sorrow at what she assumed James had been through in his past to act so detached from pain, from the levels I was sure I would never reach. Part of me wanted to ask to feel it, if only for the sliver of a second, just so I would know, but I knew I wasn't brave enough for that, not merely for curiosity's sake.

James was staring into the fire again. I was silently thankful that his jaw was relaxed, that he was slowly chewing on his cheek instead of sitting stock still with his teeth clenched. I wondered how hard it was for him to not Shift during the trials. That was always difficult for me, like my Shift was trying to break from me, to protect me, even though I was the one allowing the pain. I wondered if it was even harder for him, since I assumed not Shifting was always difficult for him, at least now, after what I had seen from him. I realized I was staring at him and tore my eyes away, looking to Cordelia instead, who seemed to have been waiting for my attention.

She stood just to the side of the fireplace's mantle, watching me with anchored eyes. I didn't dislike her, and I suddenly felt bad for whatever I had said that James had to apologize for. I looked at my feet before speaking, feeling ashamed.

"What does ke'evel mean?"

I felt James eyes on me a second later, but I hadn't asked him. Cordelia's voice answered after only a short pause.

"Ke'evel is the name for my Gift, it means pain-giving. It was not wrong of you to call it that."

I nodded, opening my mouth to tell her I was ready for my second trial, but James' voice interrupted.

"Ke'evel may have originated as the proper name for Cordelia's particular talent, but it is now a derogatory term. Meant to mean that the individual themself is pain and that that is all they can be. That they take pleasure in their ability, in controlling others through pain and having all that are susceptible to their talent at their mercy. I used the word with Grayson because that's what his talent is, what he is. Cordelia doesn't use ke'evel. Her talent would be called dorentia, the mage's word for suffering. She suffers when she uses her Gift, unlike Grayson who enjoys it."

He explained the difference between the terms like a teacher, his voice informative but monotonous, still uninterested and dull. Even when he spoke of Grayson his voice didn't change. I hated how the anger I knew he was feeling was so buried it might as well not exist at all.

"That was a very thoroughly articulated answer. How do you know so much about our words, if I may ask?"

Cordelia had a strange look on her face, and I imagined she was rarely confused, rarely surprised by someone.

"I was taught by many mages when I was young, I learned some of their language. I had the pleasure of learning under Grayson for some time as well. He taught me about his talent at great length, and what it meant to him extensively. It's easy to see that you do not delight in your ability like he does. I've only ever met one other with ke'evel, but she was a Darkling and is now dead, though the term for her Gift in my language is different than in yours."

"Abby did not mention that you knew the Fallen language, and I was not aware that Nephilim could even have my ability."

Cordelia now seemed as interested as I had ever seen her, though she had looked immensely disheartened at James' explanation of how he had gained such knowledge. I could only image Grayson using his ke'evel on James as a child, as he explained what the word meant, the same sharp look in his eyes that I had seen so many times. I realized I was grinding my teeth and I relaxed my jaw.

"We call the Gift crev'ar kiala, the bloodless death. And the magnitude of our Gift is as vastly different from yours as the physical strength of a Human against one of my kind...if that gives you reference. The Gift is rare, but I've heard of others."

"Is that woman the reason you can...how you are able...that..."

Cordelia paused before continuing, not seeming to be able to find the words she was searching for.

"How is your tolerance so experienced?"

She sounded like she didn't really want to know the answer, but the inquisitiveness in her eyes begged to differ.

"I've received many years of training in this area," James said flatly, his eyes back on the fire.

Cordelia turned to me, looking very much like she wished she hadn't asked. It was strange to think of what a soft heart the woman must have, a woman who's strongest Gift was to hurt others, and yet she seemed like, if given the chance, she would be one of the kindest souls I had ever met. I suddenly felt very sorry for her.

"I'm ready."

My second trial did not go as well as my first and when I came out of it Ailech's eyes were wide, though he quickly looked to the floor when my gaze met his. Even before Cordelia relayed her notes to me, I knew I had screamed. James was still staring at the fire, biting at the side of his cheek, looking exactly as he had fifteen minutes earlier. I wished I knew what went on in his head, if it was as blank as his face, or if he was simply masking his thoughts. I couldn't decide which idea I liked less.

"You reached a higher level."

Cordelia's words pulled me from my thoughts, the slight sniffle in her voice as she finished not lost on me. I gave her a reassuring smile before wiping my sweaty hands on my pants as I tried to not think of James' third trial which was about to begin. My stomach didn't feel right, which only reminded me of him more, making me feel even worse.

"Your final trial will be meant to reach your highest limit, your furthest boundaries before your body reacts. I may not be as strong as one of your kind...and I have seldom used it to its fullest, but my talent reaches far greater depths than Grayson's. I'm sorry."

James nodded before leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes again. I wished I could tear my eyes away, but my heart was beating painfully in my chest and I almost felt like I was in a trial as well, just watching, just waiting for some sign that James was feeling something. The anticipation hurt me as much as when Prey or Parish got a sold hit in.

Only three minutes passed before James' closed eyes went from relaxed to tightly squeezed shut, his brow furrowed, his jaw clenched, the muscle standing out like a cliff in his thin cheek. A minute later and his hands were stiff fists at his sides, then his shoulders went rigid and his breathing became heavier. By seven minutes I heard a quiet noise escape him, and then another, and thirty seconds later, another, a little louder. At nine minutes he doubled over, leaning forward, his head in his hands, his fingers twisted in his too-long, tangled hair. From the ninth to tenth minute he was silent, bent over in his chair, his shoulders evenly rising and falling with his breaths. But halfway through the tenth minute he let out a half-groan, which ended in few notes of cold laughter. It made my chest tighten, it sounded too similar to his father's dark laugh from my dreams.

I saw Cordelia tense at James' laugh, but then she turned her back so I couldn't see her face, looking down into the fire instead before writing a short note. At twelve minutes I almost jumped as James fell to the floor, on his hands and knees just like how I had woken up so many times after a trial. He was panting now, his breaths no longer merely heavy, but gasping like no matter how he tried he couldn't get enough air into his lungs. I hated that all I could picture, even when I looked away, was him in a dark gym, choking and heaving, blood dripping from his chin, his shoulders shaking with each wracking cough that cut through him.

I had to hold my hands in my lap so tightly they hurt just to stop myself from reaching out to him. I knew in my head he was almost at fourteen minutes, but he still had one more level and I suddenly wished I had opted to wait in the hallway with Ember. I counted silently in my mind the last seconds before the new wave would hit him.

Thirteen twenty-six, thirteen twenty-seven, thirteen twenty-eight.

I held my breath when I knew it was about to happen, biting down on my tongue, squeezing my hands in my lap even harder. Even Ailech was tensed where he sat, as if he knew what was coming. He probably did, he could probably sense it. And then it hit.

A strangled groan came from somewhere in James' throat and he shivered where he knelt, his entire body shaking for a moment as his breaths came out heavier. I felt something in my own body shudder and then he yelled, dropping his face to the floor, his arms over his head, his shoulder's shaking, his entire body trembling.

It was too much, seeing it was too much, the memory of the last time he shook like that was tearing down everything I had built up in myself and I couldn't help it, couldn't stop myself. All I wanted was to take his pain away, all I wanted was to have him sit back in his chair, even if he wore his dead mask, it was better than hearing him scream, muffled against the carpet, better than seeing him shake with a pain I could still vividly remember.

And then there was nothing but white fire licking my soul, flames burning my bones, boiling my marrow, consuming my mind and memories and everything in my being. Everything I had ever felt, ever known was shattered and the pieces turned to ash before my eyes. I heard a piercing scream as I felt myself rip apart.

» ✦ «

I was on the floor, I could feel the rough carpet against my forehead, feel my fingers tearing at my hair, smell the fire and hear it crackling. Was my third trial finished? I had been sure I still had a minute more. My throat felt horse and my head pounded as I lifted it, looking around the room. My eyes went to Jordan first, though Cordelia and Ailech were both looking at me, confusion on their faces.

A second later I heard her scream, the most heartbreaking, terrifying noise I had ever heard. I was by her side before she could hit the floor, catching her and holding her to my chest as she shook, seizing in my arms.

"Stop!"

Ailech and my voice rang out in unison to Cordelia, a yell of desperation and anger and fear. Before the command even finished Jordan collapsed against me, unconscious, but no longer trapped by the woman's Gift. I hugged her head into my chest, leaning over her, brushing her hair from her face, feeling how feverish her skin was. I heard someone step toward us and my Shift ripped from me, moving through my first until the room was crimson. I looked up with black eyes, ready to destroy anyone who tried to hurt her, tried to take her from me.

"Don't touch her!"

I didn't even recognize my own voice, but I didn't care. I would do anything to protect my Pair. If it sent me to Hell a thousand times over, I would protect her. Ailech stepped back, terror in his wide eyes before he raised his hands and spoke.

"Let me see if I can help her, heal her."

I could still feel my teeth bared, still feel the need to kill him with every inch he took toward Jordan, but I knew if anyone could wake her, could help her, he could. My heals were nothing compared to his and even through my thoughts clouded by my second Shift I knew she needed him, not me. I hated it, but I knew it all the same. I slowly loosened my hold on her, letting him lay a hand over her heart as he closed his eyes, trying to decipher what was wrong with her, what was happening in her body. I prayed she was only unconscious, merely knocked out from the pain. But if she had taken it from me, I worried the damage would be much deeper. I worried she had taken far more than she could survive, far more than someone as novice as her could even imagine.

I willed her to be strong, to merely be asleep in my arms. I prayed that her pain had been so fleeting, so momentary before Cordelia noticed her intended target was no longer the recipient, that she would be alright, that she would open her eyes and have nothing more than a headache, nothing more than a scowl on her face for me touching her. I prayed for her to open her eyes and glare at me, spit at me to get away from her, but she didn't.

Ailech opened his eyes as he withdrew his hand.

"We need Abby."

Cordelia followed as I carried my Pair down the hallways, Ailech ahead of me, showing the way to Abraham's office.

The memory of the previous times I had carried my Pair burned through my mind like acid, of me gently carrying her to my room after she passed out when I made her cut me, my mind reeling with what her reaction could mean. Of me carrying her through the woods when I thought she was nothing more than an intriguing Human, when I cared for her no more than any other woman. How stupid I had been to not see what she was, even then.

She was just as light now as she had been then, but what I had thought was merely interesting back when I first carried her now seemed sinister. She was too light, like she was hardly real, like she was fading away from me. I tightened my grip on her, crushing her into me. The corridors had changed from vibrant red to grays and shining whites, but I hardly noticed, my Shift still felt just as deep, just as encompassing and overwhelming and total.

At some point Ambriel joined our train. Ailech at the front, me behind with my Pair and my phantom, Cordelia following close, silent tears slipping from her eyes, and Ember farther back, hesitantly last. I couldn't remember the last time Ambriel's presence didn't draw my eyes, didn't pull my attention like a startling movement or sharp noise, but I couldn't have possibly cared less that she was walking swiftly by my side. Though when she reached out for Jordan's long hair I snarled, making her snatch her hand back as if she thought I would bite it, which, if she had been real, I probably would have. By the time we turned the last corner she was gone, but I could see Abraham's office now, and something similar to hope blossomed in my chest. If he couldn't save her though, if he couldn't wake her, I would kill them all, I knew that much. My vision tipped back into reds at the thought as I strode through Abraham's office door.

I sat on one of the window seats as Ailech quickly explained what he thought had happened, which was woefully lacking since he didn't actually understand at all what she had done. She was so stupid. She should have just let me deal with the last minute, it wouldn't have seriously damaged me. I had been through worse. But she couldn't have known this would be the outcome. I should have known she wouldn't be able to watch and sit idly by, that she would have come to her Pair's rescue even if she didn't know how or why, even if she didn't mean to. She wasn't the foolish one, I was. I should have known this would happen. I should have expected it. I cursed in my head as I realized my stupidity might have killed my Pair, might have lost her from me forever. I wouldn't kill Abraham if she didn't come back, I would only kill myself.

"Ume'ar, elis aheo. Awaken, little Angel. Please, wake up. Ume'ar. Ume'ar."

I whispered the words into her hair where she lay, everything in me wishing she could hear them, wishing the language would speak to her even in sleep.

She stirred in my arms, and for a moment I wanted to lean down and kiss her out of sheer joy, but then she moved again, just slightly, but enough to snap me from the trance I had been in. I laid her down on the window seat as if she were the thinnest of glass before leaving, turning just once as I crossed the threshold of the room, just once to see her eyes flutter, to know she was really waking. Then I was gone.

I made it back to my room just in time, my mouth watering, my stomach leaping up into my throat, bile burning at the back of my tongue. But I didn't get sick, not this time. Instead, I made it to the foot of my bed and passed out.

MI HEART! MI LITTLE SHRIVELED HEART. IT BREAKS.

I'm sorry.

T.