Ira

His blood pooled around him stained and curdled by the poison in his soul. The blade in his chest had once been a gift of love, but that gift was now his end. His hands warped around theirs over the hilt. He forgave them. they could see it in his bright green eyes that dulled as the light they had loved left him. Sorrow swept over them as death claimed his soul and his body turned to dust

I could have saved him.

Why didn't I save him?

I could have saved them all.

The man, the monster.

And mother.

Running. Screaming. Cutting.

No, not again.

Gunshots. blood. Mom!

I sucked in a sharp breath, eyes flying open to the same room I'd woken in before.

After he'd left me here, I'd sat for several hours just holding myself. I don't know how I'd forgotten so quickly about the visions but there was no doubt in my mind Nina would die. I just wasn't sure telling Uriel would help him save her. What if by telling him I stopped it from happening. It was clear he didn't know what to do when that time came. And maybe that was part of it. Maybe by telling him now, I would make him do it wrong.

But what if I was supposed to tell?

What if my silence killed her?

It was a question that haunted me. I'd told almost told River. he was young and otherwise fit. Perhaps if I had, and he stopped smoking, the cancer would never stir. But then what? A concussion? a heart attack? organ failure? He would always die somehow.

But that pain I had seen; I could save him from it.

I should have saved mom from it.

I could still feel the warmth of her arms when she held me. Still remembered the nights spent on the couch as we talked into the late hours. But those days were gone. Because I hadn't played attention. I'd known the mage was there in that room, just like it had been in my dream. Still, I failed to warn them. I could have woken up sooner. I should have followed my instincts and gone to their room instead. Dad could have killed the mage before he ever touched mom.

But all the what-ifs and could-haves, would not bring her back.

Exhausted in a different way I'd eventually slipped into unconsciousness.

Only to find Uriel as I had always done.

I wasn't surprised by the brutal death he would one day suffer. Not with everything I'd seen about the life he lived. Still, I could feel his blood on my hands, and I knew the knife I would one day put through his heart.

My soul ached with remembered pain.

I was going to kill him just as surely as Nina would die.

He should have just killed me.

Why he hadn't was beyond my understanding.

It was clear he didn't want me here even if Nina seemed glad for the company. And who knew how long he would let me remain.

Or if he'd ever let me go.

Dread settled in my stomach.

What if I was stuck here with nothing to do? With nothing to distract me from the nightmares.

Nothing to keep me from drowning in other people's memories.

I'd always used work and school to keep them at bay, at least while I was awake, but here I had neither. Without them the nightmares pressed in, reminding me of what waited if should I close my eyes. All the deaths I'd seen. Night after night. Lifetimes of them compressed into a few hours and crammed into my head. Executions and accidents alike fought for space in my overcrowded thoughts as I retreated into myself, trying to find that place where nothing existed.

No death.

No voices.

No me.

The numbness returned, creeping through my limbs in an icy embrace.

After the past week of dread and fear I'd had, I welcomed it. I did not want to feel the agony anymore. Not when I knew what lay ahead. Just more heartache. More loss. More pain. Like a black hole, the yawning darkness stretched out forever ahead of me.

Inside me.

The quit suddenly felt too heavy, and I wished it would suffocate me.

It would be so easy to just stop breathing.

Invisible hands brushed away the numbness as though clearing the cobwebs of my existence. I would have raged at them for stealing away my escape, but apathy held me in its grip.

Comforting and gentile, they offered different memories.

Memories of home.

Of mom.

Mornings over a hot cup of coffee. Evenings filled with music. Long hours spent practicing and practicing, until our fingers cramped from it. Dad, happy and whole, listened from his office where he worked through the endless sheets of numbers that were forever stacked on his desk. The pride in her eyes every time she attended a student's recital.

The pride when she watched me play.

I sucked in a deep breath, only to let it out as a sob.

If I died there was no one else to remember.

Limbs heavy with melancholy, I forced myself out of bed. I didn't want to move but the dreams pressed in, too close for comfort. I needed to stay awake. I needed to move, but the room was too small. I shuffled to the door and pulled it open but stopped.

Had Uriel meant for me to stay in here? There were no locks on the door to keep me in. And surely someone with magic in his blood had ways to keep me trapped if he wished. Maybe I was free to move about as I pleased. Or maybe in his anger, he'd simply forgotten. I stared at the floor unsure of what to do next but uncaring what the answer was.

A hum pulsed down the hall drawing me out of my stupor.

A door at the end, opposite the living room, had been built into the wall. Something about it seemed alive. Moving of their own accord, my feet carried me closer. The antique wood called to me, and I didn't bother to fight the pull as it drew me closer. When I stood just a few inches away, I stopped. Thoughtlessly, I run my fingers over the intercut designs carved into the surface, so at odds with the otherwise modern home. As I brushed over the curve of the looping pattern, I felt it.

Memories of a different sort swelled from each grain at my touch. I forgot to breathe as they washed over me. Just like that, it became very difficult to separate the memories from my own.

The wind dancing through my...no its leaves.

My eyes slipped closed at the sensation

Sharp pain as a creature called man drove his crafted ore into my flesh. Again and again, each blow cut deeper into the cord that bound us to this earth. Until I fell.

pain shot through my side causing me to gasp and double over, as real as the mage's claws and as deep as my soul.

The sadness of never again standing tall with my kind.

The grief was so strong that I choked on a strangled sob.

The joy of having a purpose again as another man teased shapes from my flesh.

The relief was so great it eased the sharp stings of loss.

A man who was not just a man, he knows how to speak with my kind. He is chosen. He takes me to a place where the earth surrounds us.

Uriel

A she-man approaching. She needs to know. Must warn her. She is the Listener. She must learn to hear.

The urgency of the need made my skin crawl.

"Do... you...hear...me...Listener?"

The words were like a whisper of a sigh brushing over my ears. It was the strangest feeling as saw myself the way the wood saw me. A form that radiated a now familiar, yet foreign color. Every detail stood out in sharp relief despite the monochrome world of the sightless and I felt the warmth where our life energy linked together.

Yes.

The sound that escaped me was not a word, but a language more ancient than stone.

I sharp noise snapped the fragile connection and I stumbled back, turning to see a young she man-no, a girl -Nina. She stood in the doorway beside me holding a hand full of leafy greens, using her shirt as a makeshift basket to carry what looked like dirty potatoes as she watched me with a wrinkled nose. Her mouth moved, and she spoke words, but they felt harsh to my ears. I knew I should understand them, but as they fell from her mouth she might as well have been speaking in tongues.

I blinked to clear my head of the lingering fog before mumbling.

"What?"

She continued to look at me strangely for a few moments before repeating herself and It took far too long for my brain to turn the sounds she made into words I understand.

"What are you doing?"

"I ... Um... I was just..." I stumbled with the words as they rolled around, unfamiliar, in my mouth. "...just looking."

"You can't go out that way..." She said still eyeing me with suspicious curiosity. "It only listens to Uri."

It was my turn to ask "What?". I was having a hard time catching my breath. It felt like the air was too thin.

"The door only listens to Uri. You can't open it. You were trying to leave, weren't you?" there was hurt in her words.

"No!" stepping away from the door, I wrapped my arms around myself, finally able to suck in a deep breath. "I... it..." I shook my head. I had no words for what it had done.

"Well, you can't. He's never brought me a person before. And I plan on keeping you."

She said it so matter of fact as if I was a pet.

I didn't know if I should laugh at the ridiculousness of the thought or weep because there might be more truth to it than I cared to know.

Focusing instead on her shirt of vegetables, I asked "What are those for?"

"Breakfast" she informed me before turning to walk stiffly to the kitchen.

I trailed after her. "Do you want help"

"No, I can do it myself."

I trailed to a stop. Apparently, I wasn't needed.

Nina's noises fell into the background as my attention was drawn to Uriel's sleeping form. His lean body was stretched out on the long couch. A large floppy bear lay next to him, the small space between them forming a cozy nest.

It was strange seeing him when he looked so harmless.

So human.

Cautiously I crept closer for a curious look.

He'd changed into a new set of clothes, black having replaced soiled white, and his hair cleaned of the gore caked into it. Leaving dark auburn strands to fall in a fiery halo around his face, reminding me of the flames he embraced in my dreams.

Flames that did not burn him.

My eyes strayed to the carved planes of his stomach, hidden behind the dark cloth. He had the Iithe build of a swimmer, his frame lacking the bulk of a solider but sleek and well-muscled. Still, dozens of tiny scars, strange and unnatural, peppered his face and arms. Raised with sharp ridges, they looked like diamonds embedded in his skin. A soft pulsating glow emanates from deep within each, making them seem alive.

I could have sworn one moved.

His mouth curled into a snarl, but he made no sound.

Tensing, I scanned his face, expecting him to wake.

He flinched, his eyes jumping back and forth restlessly beneath closed lids. His steady breaths were too quick to be relaxed and there was a deep furrow above his brow. As if, even in sleep, he did not rest.

I frowned at it in deepening curiosity, my gaze drawn back to his skin and the marks that decorated it. My fingers twitched, aching to touch them, wanting to see if they would provide the same sensations as the carved wood had felt when he set it in stone. My hand stretched out to touch him, my gaze darting to his face and back before I pressed a finger to the pointed end of one where it peeked out from beneath his sleeve.

There was a zap of biting energy and suddenly he moved.

On hand shot out, grabbing my throat, and jerking me down, throwing me to the floor as he rolled, landing on his knees atop me. Hovering just a hair's breadth away from my eye, so close I didn't dare blink, his other hand clutched a bone-white blade.

The same blade I would one day use to kill him.