Page 13 of Dark Master's Redemption

I find its slow, swirling darkness hypnotic somehow, as I paint the moon in a thousand renditions far above. Done in a dreamy Renaissance style I use when I have the rare moment to paint, I see how the red gaze of Quinn’s Revenant follows each page I set aside.

I realize it’s interested in my work. Turning my easel so it can see, I start another piece—and see it watch me the entire time. As it watches my hands paint and my brushes dip, moving over the page, its swirling grows quieter. At last, what was once a vicious roil of Quinn’s black smoke becomes like a slowly undulating sea.

As the Revenant watches me paint—and grows quiet.

“You like this, don’t you?” I ask it, then; my heart rate spikes as its red eyes snap to me. Still, its roiling tentacles of darkness move along the floor as it seems to pulse in a slow rhythm I’ve never noticed before.

And I realize that it’s a heartbeat.

“Quinn…!” Astonishment fills me to see the slow, steady beat of Quinn’s heart now through the black smoke of his Revenant. As the creature’s gaze fixes on me, I think I see a glimmer of recognition before it’s gone.

I stare at the Revenant and the Revenant stares back. It’s quiet now, though, as I begin a new piece. I glance over, watching it as I paint, to see if I notice anything else human-like about it. The slow heartbeat in its smoke becomes steady, revealing a deep movement, almost like a breath.

As the Revenant breathes again, I breathe with it, timing my inhalation with the movement of what might be a chest near the center of its swirling mass. We lock eyes, breathing slowly in the same timing, as I feel us enter a strange and intimate dance.

For the first time, I’m not afraid of it, as I breathe with it and feel our hearts beat as one. I stare at it across the shimmering energy barrier; I feel an odd commonality with it now, as we come together in the night.

For the first time since Quinn was lost to its terrible darkness, I watch as its eyes bleed from a hateful, malevolent red to a beautiful dark onyx, flickering with firelight.

My breath catches to see Quinn again, after all this time.

I don’t want to speak, or move, as a deep joy and fear both devour me. Though the brightest sensation fills me to see Quinn again, I’m cast down into the most terrible darkness also, as I fear losing this moment. Quinn’s surges of humanity have been fleeting; my lips fall open now as I see him shine out through those dark eyes, watching me in the night.

His gaze shifts to my lips as they open, as if he wants to kiss them. And then they shift to the paintings I’ve created, landing on each one, before coming back to me.

“The paintings…” I understand what Quinn is trying to tell me through the devouring darkness of his Revenant. “You like them? They make you feel like yourself again?”

I think I see him nod as his roiling black energy moves. But our moment has gone on too long; red malevolence seeps back into Quinn’s eyes, since I’ve paused so long from painting.

But even as his beautiful onyx gaze is lost to me yet again, hope fills me. Because I’ve discovered something that helps return Quinn’s humanity.

These beautiful pastoral paintings, that he loves so much.

As I stare at Quinn’s Revenant swirling in its luminous cage, I know I’ve been going about this all wrong. Whether Master Ilyov’s teaching will help us bar the Gold Eyes from our magic, Quinn is my priority; now that I finally understand what might help him, I know I need to spend every waking moment trying to bring him back.

As I glance at my easel and brushes, I wonder what else might help Quinn restore his humanity. I reach out, taking a sip of my wine as I mull it over.

As I do, I feel the beat of Quinn’s heart once more.

That deep connection moves between us again. I look over and see that slow, steady pulse surging through the Revenant’s magic. As I lift my wine, taking a deeper sip this time, I see how it watches me all the way. Its red eyes devour me as I take another, and another, just drinking off the glass as I watch the creature.

It watches me drain my glass; its red eyes snap to me as if asking for another. I pour another and drink more. This time, Quinn’s dark eyes bleed through the red, lingering upon my lips as if tasting the wine as I drink it down.

And staying—beautiful in the moonlight.

I rise and approach Quinn’s barrier with my wineglass in hand. As I lift my hand, so close to the barrier now, I don’t touch that dire magic. I linger, however, swirling my glass as I feel Quinn’s heartbeat.

As Quinn’s fiery, dark attention pins me, I feel his true power flare once, like smoke-dark firebrands in the night. Though it feels so far away, barely there, it’s something I haven’t felt in ages; shivering with a primal ecstasy at that single brief taste of Quinn’s magic, I take another sip.

His gaze pins my lips, the slightest breath of dark magic caressing me now, like a kiss. I shudder as I feel Quinn’s beautiful Dark Fae magic touch me at last.

Reveling in it.

“You want this?” I watch Quinn’s black eyes through the Revenant’s smoke. “You want to taste this… with me?”

I think I see Quinn’s Revenant nod, though I can’t be sure.

“Then taste it through me now, Quinn,” I say as I hold the wine glass to my lips. “Drink with me as I drink—and drink me in also. Be on my lips and in my swallows. Be in my body as it fills me up. Be in my everything as it warms me… and makes me flare with passion in the night.”

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