Chapter Eighteen - Soul Companion

“Your what?” Arette questioned the moment Liz gasped loudly and jumped up.

“She’s your soul companion?” Liz questioned, her eyes filled with both awe and a torn expression.

Zenon looked from Arette to Liz, slowly nodding.

His anger had gone to be replaced by hopelessness.

“But how...why is she bonding with another?” Liz’ mouth stood open as she questioned him.

Arette was only confused.

Hearing Liz so shocked, it must be a big deal, but she for one had no idea what they’re talking about.

“I...I screwed up,” Zenon looked down, hands formed into fists, “If only she were happy, it’d be fine, but…”

“Fine?” Liz was almost screetching, “How can it be fine? She’s the only one you will ever be able to have that kind of bond with! For eternity!”

Arette blinked. What the heck?

“Do you think I don’t know that?” Zenon roared, taking a step towards Liz. His darkness grew violent, meshing with his powers and immediately, fear sunk into Liz’s tendrils. Her misfortune reached out, probably instinctively and that was when Arette intervened.

She stepped between the two, swatting Liz’s tendrils away, and used her own pressure to contrast Zenon’s - again.

“What the heck is going on here?” she snapped, turning from Liz to Zenon and back again.

Liz took a step back, head hanging as she was aware of the disaster she’d almost caused. Zenon, meanwhile, stood motionless, his expression frozen between pain and anger.

For the longest time, neither of them said anything.

“What’s going on?” Arette questioned again, this time towards Liz, who was more partial to give her an answer. Liz tugged nervously on her hair and when she spoke up, her voice was wavering.

"A- a soul companion is something very special," she explained quietly, eyes darting to avoid Zenon, "It's a bond two Immortals can only enter if they love each other more than anything else. It...it can't be broken. That's why it's so rare - not many are prepared to face this kind of commitment, because the bond also knits your emotions together so tightly that you will never be able to enter another bond of comparable depth. It also means that if one partner dies, the other soon follows. That’s why I don’t understand how Sir Murron can just so easily let go of his soul companion, the one person that he swore to love and be true to for eternity.”

Her voice grew stronger at the end, laced with conviction. Arette could clearly see Liz’ own longing for a bond like that.

While she could hardly imagine something like that happening to her, it still sounded pretty neat to her ears. It seemed like something to be cherished, not to be so easily dismissed.

Her eyes narrowed at Zenon.

“If that woman is your...soul companion, was it?...Then why aren’t you, like together with her now?” She furrowed her brows, not quite understanding.

Some parts of it made sense, seeing as now, she could understand what made Zenon so sombre and silent most of the time - it was the pain that scarred his heart, that doubtlessly stemmed from his relation with the woman from the recording.

Now, for the first time since she’d met Zenon, she had the feeling that he wasn’t like she had thought at first. He wasn’t really mysterious or quiet - he was trying to deal with something that hurt him a lot. But that wasn’t who he was in his essence.

Having realized as much, she saw it in his flame. She saw, deep down, the man he’d buried, the kind, quite friendly and open soul that he locked so deep that even her flame-scouring eyes hadn’t discovered it.

“I screwed up, I...I made a mistake, okay? I lost her. I don’t have the right to be with her anymore,” he rubbed his neck and turned away from Arette and Liz, kicking the ground again.

He emanated a despair so strong, Arette could almost smell it tinging the air.

Seeing him mope around like that, anger grew in her chest.

“What ‘right’, what’s that supposed to mean?” she growled, “Since when do people need some ‘right’ to be with each other? I’ve never been given the ‘right’ to be Liz’ friend, but I sure as hell am.”

Confusion and annoyance laced her words, but they only seemed to amplify Zenon’s irritation.

“I destroyed her life!” he yelled, his molten golden eyes drilling into Arette’s. Gold clashing with gold, anger and despair against annoyance and determination. “How am I supposed to be with her after all that I did to her?”

“Maybe, if you actually told us what happened, I could give you an answer to that!” Arette snapped, irritation boiling over. With his snippets of self blame and despair, she couldn’t form a story and it was annoying her immensely.

How was she supposed to help him - and he had asked for help after all - when she barely had an idea what was going on to begin with?

Zenon groaned and stalked up and down again.

“Zenon,” Arette began, but his angry eyes stopped her halfway.

“I told you to never say that name again!” he exploded and his pressure bore down on her again. She still didn’t know what kind of Ascendant he was, but his power was rippling with a certain richness.

An Ascendant of Strength, maybe? Or maybe an Ascendant of Combat. She couldn’t quite tell.

But neither of that mattered because his strength was merely on part with her. Not stronger.

And she just about had enough of his volatile antics.

With a growl, she pushed her own flame into her body, her fiery energy propulsing out of her body to bear down on him.

“And I’m telling you right now to stop whining and tell us what’s wrong!” she yelled back and on her arms, her flames ignited, burning her clothes away until there was only bare skin left.

Their pressures clashed as Arette got ready to whirl her fires at him and burn him a little until he regained his senses but the outcome was quite obvious from their clash as well.

Arette was, and not necessarily by a small margin, stronger than Zenon.

He took a step back, withdrawing his pressure, but this time, Arette didn’t draw her own powers back. Instead, she stepped forwards and glared down on the man she had come to consider a friend, more than a little pissed.

“I get that you’re hurt, but if you want my help, our help, then you need to get your shit together and tell us what happened to begin with,” she said slowly.

Zenon gulped, visibly pale when confronted with the extent of Arette’s powers.

A moment passed of her staring him down and him looking at her with a rather pleading expression, but after what seemed like an eternity, Zenon nodded.

“Fine,” he grumbled and walked towards the fountain to sit down.

Arette remained standing, tapping her foot impatiently.

“As you already know, my name isn’t Murron. It’s Zenon. My clan name used to be Leptyn Pharan, of the Renegade Clans, Ascendant of Power and Strength,” he let his head fall onto his hands, not looking the part of someone who had walked the path of Strength at all.

Arette frowned, unfamiliar with half of the names he’d presented. She looked to Liz, who stood gaping at him.

“Like Leptyn, the betrayer?” Liz asked, baffled. Zenon looked at her harshly, before he deflated and stared down to the ground again.

“The very same,” he laughed bitterly. Arette raised an eyebrow at Liz, who thankfully launched into an explanation.

“The Renegade are a congregation of clans that form one of the oldest and most influential Clans in huge parts of the Plane of Gods. They don’t accept many members and those they accept are all exceptional in combat power. I told you about them just before, Phara, the adventurer, was their founder, that’s why each clan member bears her name as their last name.

“But a few years ago, before I was born, there was the story of a terrible battle - Leptyn, the betrayer, told the Hundred Souls Clan, a sworn enemy of the Renegade Clans, secret information about their bases and the headquarters of the Renegade Clans was ambushed. Many died back then and their homes were completely wrecked. Leptyn was banished from the clan and no one knew what became of him…”

Her eyes darted to Zenon, both pity and distaste swimming inside of them. Arette gave her a grateful nod. Then, she turned back to Zenon.

He looked up at her, his golden orbs filled with self loathing and bitterness.

“Go on, call me a betrayer. A murderer. I know I deserve it,” he murmured the last, but didn’t look away from her. Arette rolled her eyes.

“Now, why would I do that before you tell me the story you promised?” She raised an eyebrow and tapped with her foot again, impatiently waiting for him to present his kind of view. She might not be the smartest person, but she wasn't dumb enough to judge him before hearing his side of things.

He stared at her with wide eyes.

“You are…” he said, baffled, but then shook his head, “I shouldn’t be surprised. You’re similar after all,” he smiled and then promptly continued where he left off before.

“Six years ago, I was clanless. I was already an Ascendant of Power and Strength back then, had made my path through picking fights and adventuring for a couple of hundred years. That’s when I met her. Elea. Her clan name is Ilika Pharan, Sovereign of the Hunt. We fell in love pretty soon after. It took us years to form a deep connection, but there came a day when I just couldn't imagine ever living a second of my life without her…”

His eyes were staring into nothing, lost in memories. Arette’s expression softened with his words.

“I joined the Renegade Clans for her, wanted to be with her and with me walking the path of Strength, Phara didn’t have much of a problem with admitting me. We decided to establish the soul companion bond after a few more years...we were happy, back then. But then I got a message from the Hundred Souls, saying they kidnapped her. If I ever wanted to see her again, I’d need to give them information on the secrets of our clan. I searched for her everywhere, but she was gone.”

His hands formed into fists as he spoke and finally he looked up to find Arette’s eyes again.

“You must believe me, I never wanted to betray them. I was such a fool. But I would’ve done anything for her. I was blind. I gave them what they asked for. Two days later, I found out that Elea was never gone...she just had to go out for a secret mission for Phara which she couldn’t tell me anything about. But then, it was already too late.

“They killed so many. People I considered friends. People Elea considered friends - even her adoptive parents and brothers died. She was devastated. How could I still be with her after my foolish mistake had cost her her friends, her home, everything? How? Phara was nice in kicking me out of the Clans. She should’ve killed me and be done with it, right then. But she didn’t.”

He stood up then, but his eyes kept ahold of Arette’s.

Arette’s features smoothed and she looked at him with sympathy, with understanding. She couldn’t truly comprehend the love that drove him to do be so foolish, but if she’d been connected so truly to another person, she would’ve probably done the same.

So she understood. But she also understood why he blamed himself - and she couldn’t take that from him. Couldn’t tell him that it was not his fault...because it was. It was his mistake.

“I thought I’d be fine, staying away from her. I thought she’d be happy...an old friend of mine sent me the recording. At first I was devastated...then I thought it would be good if she can find happiness without me...but I had to know if she truly found happiness. And now you say she’s troubled. She doesn’t love him - I know it, I can feel it. She’s not happy.”

He ran his hand through his hair, clearly more agitated now.

“What am I supposed to do now? I can’t let her bond with another when she’s not happy...she deserves to be happy, gods be damned,” he kicked the fountain again at that.

Liz had tears swimming in her eyes at his story, clearly moved enough to remove any distaste that lay in her gaze before.

Arette could see the pain that was consuming Zenon. She felt with him, could see how the darkness of his grief was tearing him apart.

But she didn’t quite see why the most obvious decision was bothering him so much.

“But isn’t it obvious, what you’re supposed to do?” she asked with a little confusion. It seemed quite clear to her.

Zenon only looked bewildered.

Arette laughed a little, grinning at her friend as a plan began to form in her mind.

“I don’t like that expression of yours,” Zenon said cautiously, taking a step away from her.

Her grin only deepened.

“You’re going to her. Now. Then you’re going to tell her how you feel. If she’s really your soul whatever, she’ll understand what you did. If she doesn’t, it can’t be that true love thing you say you had. It’s easy, isn’t it?”

“Arette…” his tone was warningly, but she didn’t falter.

“Pack your things, Zenon. We’ll leave tomorrow at dawn!” She gave him a cheeky grin and then turned around to leave, not letting any discussion arise.

“Wait, ‘we’?” Zenon called after her.

She stopped to turn again, flashing him a bright grin.

“What, did you think I’d miss out on that? Not a chance!”