Chapter 19 – A Real Kiss

Aurora needed to get away. She didn’t like the darkness around her. She was suffocating. Desperate for air, she focused on her counting—on her routine. As so many times before, she knew that as long as she followed the routine, she’d be okay.

Ten, nine, eight…

Ten, nine, eight…

Ten, nine, eight…

It didn’t work. Maybe it was her breathing—she remembered that her breathing had to be controlled. But how do you control breathing when it seemed as if there was no air to breathe? Her lungs ached, and she had to do something—anything.

Ten, nine, eight...

Seven, six, five…

She thought about her hallucinations. There was something about them, something pivotal that she’d missed. She needed to remember, but she also had to escape.

Four, three, two…

Taking a deep breath, she resisted the urge to cough. The air was wrong here, almost as if it had been polluted. Her throat hurt, and she wanted to scratch at the skin, hoping to relieve some of the pain. She couldn’t panic, though. Panic was the enemy of her routine.

Two... Two…

Almost there. Almost. At her last breath, she realized something: she wasn’t supposed to hallucinate any longer.

One!

Her lungs expanded with air, and she could breathe. Now would be a terrific time to panic. Opening her eyes, she stared into the eyes of a woman she didn’t recognize. The eyes were the color of burnt-out ember. Wisdom and knowledge seemed to flow from the eyes. Wavy long, brown hair framed the face. The woman looked as confused as Aurora felt inside.

She’s beautiful, she thought. Then she noticed the flat surface. Was it a painting? No. It was a mirror. Aurora blinked once to be sure before she raised her arm, and saw the mirror doing the same.

“I feel so silly,” she said. Aurora frowned. The words had come from her mouth, but she hadn’t said them. She focused on the reflection, trying not to panic. The voice continued, “My name is Shani Reed. I know you’re listening—I’m making sure this is a memory of mine.” The woman smiled. “You must have a lot of questions, and I can only give you a few of the answers.”

Aurora tried to speak, but she had no control over her mouth. She didn’t like this hallucination—because that’s all it was, right?

“When Haw Tech performed their initial experiments on me, I didn’t reveal the complete truth. They knew about my eyes, how I couldn’t control the fire.” The reflection looked sad. “Such a destructive power and I knew it would be the end of me.”

Aurora saw the woman’s eyes turn a bright green before her surroundings changed. This time, she watched herself talking with Lina the day she heard about Haw Tech. A voice resounded inside her head. “I had these visions of the future, as well. I knew you’d be the perfect person to continue my hopes and dreams.”

Her surroundings shifted back again to the mirror. The woman—Aurora figured she must be Shani Reed—smiled at her.

“A part of me is inside you. You’re the oldest enslaved Immortalia, and your body was the only one that could bear the responsibility. Your soul-line is pure and I apologize for taking advantage of your weakened body in such a way.”

But how? I don’t understand, Aurora thought.

“I know it doesn’t make any sense to you now, but I’ve placed something to help you piece it all together. I’ve realized that I have to die in order to make sure that my plan to free the Immortalias is successful. This of course saddens me, but it is a responsibility I have to bear to save my people.” The reflection smiled a sad smile. “I know that Aaron will help you to the best of his ability.”

Aaron?

“At my expedition to the Sacred Land, I showed Daniel Hawkins my home in order to leave something for Aaron. It is a letter explaining everything.”

Aurora’s surroundings shifted once again, and she saw Shani place something in a hidden compartment beneath a bed inside the castle. The vision blurred out, and this time Aurora heard Shani’s voice echoing inside her mind. “I need you to find that letter. I bestow it upon you to continue my dream—you have to free our people.”

Without knowing what to do, Aurora simply stared helplessly as the vision turned darker and finally faded to a deep darkness.

***

Air. Aurora jerked up, gasping for air. Someone next to her groaned and she turned her head, surprised to find a half-asleep Aaron holding her hand tightly.

“Wha…” he started, but when he saw her sitting there on the bed, staring back at him, he sat up straight. “Aurora! You’re okay…” He let out a deep breath. “Thank God. Are you hurt anywhere?”

“What happened?” she asked, uncertain how to act around Aaron. “Is everyone okay?”

“We’re fine.” Aaron laughed. “The rest of the group is going to be so thrilled when they hear you’ve finally woken up—are you sure you’re feeling alright?”

She nodded before taking a moment to glance around the room. She was on a bed with sparkling white sheets. The fabric was soft against her naked skin, and Aurora could feel her cheeks heat up when she realized she was essentially naked. Clutching the sheets, she tried to find something to say. Aaron must have noticed her embarrassment because he quickly averted his eyes to the tiled floor.

“Where are the rest?” she asked, glancing out the large window. Aurora noticed the colored glass and realized that she was currently in the castle of Queen Sari.

“They are around—even Zachary.” Aaron chuckled. “He’s become really friendly with the Queen. Apparently, she’s teaching him a new way of looking at life.”

“Really?” Aurora raised her eyebrows, and then shrugged. After all, it wasn’t the strangest thing she’d seen throughout her years.

“Yeah. If you wait here, I’ll go get all of them. We’ve all been anxiously waiting for you to wake up.”

“For how long was I unconscious?”

Aaron stood up from his chair and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his pants. “You’ve been out for about three days. We took turns to keep an eye on you—there were times when we were almost sure you’d already died.”

Maybe I did, Aurora thought, but she didn’t say it aloud. Part of her hoped that Aaron didn’t know about Charlie Callahan’s discovery about her routine. They’d never discussed it, but then again, they hadn’t needed to discuss it before. Her hallucinations had stopped around the time where Aaron appeared in her life. She glanced at him through her eyelashes. His overgrown bangs covered most of his forehead and left most of his face shadowed from the light. She could see him bite his lips as if he was nervous about something.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

He looked up and smiled. “Yeah. Now I am.” He gestured to the door. “I’m going to find the others now.”

Aurora didn’t reply, just watched the way his back muscles bulged beneath his shirt as he walked out of the room.

“Jesus, Aurora,” she muttered. “What the hell is wrong with you?” She shook her head lightly in an attempt to rid herself of her the memory of Aaron’s beautiful features. She felt vulnerable for some reason. Hoping to snap herself out it, she focused on Shani’s revelations.

There was a fair chance that Aurora might have dreamt up the whole thing. To be perfectly honest, she wouldn’t put it past her own mind to pull that kind of trick. Luckily, there was a way to find out whether it was the truth or not—she just had to find Shani’s letter. If it existed, her hallucinations were real.

Despite feeling slightly exhausted, Aurora quickly rose from the bed. Her lack of clothes didn’t stop her either; instead, she tore off the sheets and wrapped it around her body, hitching it in place at the corners of her bra.

Once Aaron would return with the team, there was no way to predict when she would get a moment to herself again. On bare feet, she slipped from the room only to recognize the cold walls of the castle. She followed the red carpet, trying to remember the correct way to Shani’s room. She’d recognized the room from one of the tours Sari had given her during her last stay.

Aurora was careful, listening for any sounds that could indicate her team being near. She knew that she should probably tell the others, but in case she was going bonkers, she wanted to check it out on her own first. As she turned a corner, she ignored the various painting on that prompted the wall. This was no time to study art or the history of the royal family.

Finally, she arrived at the door. Holding her breath, she looked from side to side. It was a silly thing, she would have heard if anyone were near. Nevertheless, she felt as if she simply had to make sure. She cracked the door open, and the smell of kerosene wafted to her nostrils. A burning lamp illuminated the room, and Aurora hurried over to the bed, kneeling by the side.

With her fingertips, she located the hidden compartment. After battling with the handle for a while, she managed to pull it open. Inside, she saw the letter. A simple gold ring surrounded the rolled up piece of paper. Aurora reached out a hand and carefully grabbed the letter. She turned around, and leaned against the bed while carefully taking the ring away from the paper.

Inside the ring, there was a single word engraved. “Always,” she read aloud. It was in the fashion of a wedding ring. She’d assisted plenty of human weddings over the years, but normally they would be much fancier than this one.

She liked it.

Mindlessly, she started twirling it around her finger after she unfolded the paper and started to read.

Aaron.

I know you well enough to know that you haven’t forgiven yourself for my death. I can safely say that it wasn’t your fault at all, though. When I sought out to change the world, I hadn’t counted on you to be a part of my life. In fact, I believed that, as a true Immortalia Queen, I would have to live alone until the son of Cain appeared. However, you came, and I loved you.

I should have told you everything. But it’s not in my nature to trust anyone from the human world—not even one of my own kind.

Of course, you may wonder why our people left the Sacred Land in the beginning. Truth be told, it wasn’t an easy decision. But our founding father, Cain, left the land and Immortalias all over vowed to get him back. We thought of a plan to ensure the safety of the Immortalia soul. By using human vessels, my people could live on until they were safely behind our borders again. Our ancestors even made peace with the humans, and the humans promised to look after our people for the times to come—in return, the Immortalias would serve them with pride.

The humans upheld their end of the deal for decades. But as the original deal started to fade from memory, humanity turned to worse. Instead of a respectful partnership, our people were forced into submission in order to please the human ego.

You didn’t know this when I was alive. And I would have preferred if things hadn’t come to this. Sadly, I had an obligation to my people. As the Queen, I couldn’t stand idly by and watch as my people ceased the will to save their soul. I had to do something.

Therefore, I abdicated the throne and allowed my sister to step in my place. This may sound as a silly thing to you, but Immortalia lore foretells that without the royal bloodline all Immortalia souls will be doomed. I couldn’t leave my land without a way to ensure their own survival.

This brings me to you. You need to help me save my people—our people. I knew my time would end as soon as I woke from the initial experiment at Haw Tech. I knew that my time on earth was limited. Therefore, I worked hard in order to leave you with enough pieces to continue my work.

I’m not entirely gone. As horrible as this might sound to you when you’ve been forced to grieve for so long, it’s the truth. The moment I stepped outside the Land of the Sacred, I ensured a contract with Haw Tech. This would ensure that my soul wouldn’t die when I left the mortal world. If you’re reading this, I bet you already know where I am.

Do you remember my thesis? I wrote it with you by my side. I told you of our Lore, but you may not remember by now. The Catalyst is our only hope. I need you to find her. I need you to save my people.

I love you.

Always.

Aurora sniffed slightly when she finished reading. Pieces of information connected inside her mind and she found that some of the holes in her memory were filled with Shani’s words. She remembered the original contract—the one made to sign a partnership between the humans and Immortalias.

“Are you okay?” The voice startled her, and she jerked around to find Aaron in the door.

“Aaron. W-What are you doing here?” she asked.

“I followed your scent,” he said and took a step inside the room. Gesturing to the letter, he said, “I guess you’ve read it then.”

Aurora frowned. “You know what this is?”

He nodded. “The moment I presented myself to the Queen, she urged me to go here. At first, I hesitated because you were unconscious, but the team forced me out of the room.” He gave a dry chuckle. “I couldn’t sleep, and instead I walked here and read the letter.” He pointed to the ring briefly before scratching his hair. “The ring wasn’t there at first. It’s the ring I had planned to give her.”

The ring had settled halfway down Aurora’s finger, and she gulped briefly when she realized that she was wearing it on her ring finger. “I’m so sorr—“

“It’s okay,” Aaron interrupted. He hesitated slightly, before walking over to the bed. “Can I sit?”

When Aurora nodded, he sat down on the floor next to her. The following thirty seconds—Aurora counted them—were spent in an uncomfortable silence in which Aurora took off the ring and handed it to Aaron.

“I…” Aaron started before clearing his throat. He took the ring and placed it back into the compartment under the bed. He leaned against the bed and gestured to the letter. “I spent the first four years after her death in deep grief. I didn’t want to continue without her, and only my deal with Haw Tech made me continue. I vowed to figure out the reason she died.” He took a deep breath. “I didn’t think I would ever get over the loss. Then you appeared. Everything about you was so foreign, and yet so familiar. One of the first things I noticed was the scent. I could smell her on you. Part of me refused to believe it—you didn’t seem to recognize me in any way. And it was hard because all I had to do was to close my eyes and I could imagine her right there next to me.”

Aurora squirmed briefly, unsure how to react.

“And then I started to hope.” Aaron leaned his elbows on his knees. “Shani had spent months trying to teach me the rules of enslaved Immortalias. She taught me how to act like a human and then prepared me to work for Haw Tech. I’d almost forgotten all of it until you appeared. It seemed so surreal.”

“You do know that I’m not her, right?” Aurora was almost afraid to hear the answer. Aaron was dashingly handsome, and she couldn’t deny that her heart skipped a beat every time he was near. However, she wasn’t capable of replacing Shani, and she refused to be a substitute.

“I know.” Aaron nodded. “You would have recognized me if you were. Moreover, you don’t act like her at all. There were times where I wanted to believe she was you so badly, but I had to face the facts. I know that only a part of her lives on in you—the part she needed to share—I understand it all now.”

“You do? That’s awesome,” Aurora said. “Would you mind explaining it to me then? Because I’m completely lost in all of this.”

Aaron glanced at her with an eyebrow raised. She didn’t back down, though. She had a limit after all, and all of this destiny-crap was seriously threatening to overstep all of her personal boundaries. Especially since, she was already too emotionally invested with Aaron. Was that part of Shani’s plan too?

He gave her a humorless laugh. “She used you to be the messenger. I didn’t know about her… visions… before I read that. But it started to make sense when Heratrix told me she’d been expecting you. I have to admit: Shani set up quite the elaborate plan here.” He glanced to her, giving her a sad smile. “I’ll tell you everything I know. But the information might be a bit jumbled—I only recently found out about this.”

“Okay.” Aurora placed the letter between them and hugged her knees. “I’m listening.”

“Well…” He took a deep breath. “It all started with the curse of Cain. The misinterpreted murder of his brother forced God to banish Cain from his land. Forever to walk alone, without getting the redemption he so desperately craved. The tale says that he was banished to the land of the Sacred where he settled down with his spouse and the freed slaves from his former life. Together they spawned the very first Immortalia.

“They lived in peace for a long time, but every year Cain would outlive his descendants. He was driven mad by the loneliness, and the insanity forced him away from the Sacred Land. Several of his children vowed to find him, and the contract with humans was made.” Aaron paused, rubbing his forehead.

“I know that part,” Aurora said. “I remember it. I was there when the first contracts were made. But as time passed, I must have forced myself to forget the initial contract.” She averted her eyes to the floor, focusing on a cracked tile. “It pains me to remember how the deal was broken. I suppose that’s why I dread thinking of the contracts.”

Aaron placed a hand on top of hers, and Aurora noticed how her heart skipped a beat. The subtle warmth of his skin upon hers made butterflies erupt inside her stomach.

“There’s something,” Aaron said. “That I don’t quite get about that. Would it be okay if I asked you about it?”

“Sure.” Aurora forced a fake smile as her shoulders tensed. “Since we’re sharing the untold secrets anyway.”

“Why did you stay with the humans for so long?”

Aurora inhaled. “I suppose it’s because what I knew. The reincarnation of our soul is an immensely complicated thing. For example, I remember plenty of things from my past lives. I remember serving for the Thompson bloodline for decades.” She tilted her head to look at Aaron. “I remember the turmoil during the three world wars, and the fight we all had to put up in order to stay alive. My life was directly tied to them, and it was because of them that my soul was reincarnated time and time again. I owed it to them to stay by their side.”

“It must have been horrible,” he said.

Aurora was surprised to find herself shaking her head. “No. It might seem that way since pain is easier to remember than happiness. But if I try my best, I can remember the happy faces of the children I taught how to read, or the look of gratitude when I served my owners in their old ages. The happy moments make up for all the pain and suffering.”

“And Zachary?” Aaron cocked an eyebrow. “The good times with him were worth the scarification too?”

“How did you—“

“Sari explained it,” Aaron interrupted. “I’m so sorry about my previous attitude. I completely misunderstood the situation.”