Page 14 of What Blooms from Death

I tucked my head toward my chest and willed myself back into my physical body, slamming into it with far less than my usual amount of control. It took my breath away, leaving me feeling like a specter for several more seconds, even as I became more aware of the world around me.

Finally, the floating sensations subsided. I rubbed the last of the memories from my eyes and gazed around at my current reality. My stomach clenched, again, at the sight of the shadows lashing against the Light King’s barrier.

Not my darkness,I reminded myself. I did not summon this curse.

And yet.

And yet.

Darkness was darkness, according to so many in this kingdom.

I carried more darkness than most. I’d never wanted my death-related powers. I’d embraced them out of necessity, trying to negate the damage they could do. But here in the quiet morning—alone, and still haunted by the memories of all I’d lost—I openly loathed them. I wanted to reach inside of myself and rip them out, or just twist them into new shapes…

I just wanted to bedifferent.

A sudden gust of cold energy lifted the waves of my hair, making me jump. Once my heart stopped racing, I searched the bushes behind me and quickly found exactly who I expected to.

“Phantom.” I sighed. “Announce yourself next time, would you? You frightened me.”

He might have been mistaken for a wayward scrap of shadow, if not for the way his bright blue eyes caught the sunlight when he blinked.

(Paranoid, are we?)

“Yes—likely from no sleep, and from staring down my own impending death.”

(Death is a bit of an exaggeration. You won’t truly be dying, not if Orin does things properly.)

I laughed to hide my nervousness. “You would know about not truly dying, wouldn’t you?”

He bared his teeth at the reminder of his condition.

But, as usual, he was right.

I—much like my spectral companion—was not descending into our world’s afterlife with permanence in mind. I was merely going to locate the magical sword that had passed into it, and then take care of the wound it had caused, whether by destroying that weapon or otherwise.

And then, with any luck, I would return to the living realm.

It wasn’t as implausible as it might have seemed.

There was once a time when living beings could visit their loved ones who had passed on, if only for a short period of time. The Kingdom of Eldris was well-known for this, in fact; legend stated that the most-traveled route between the living and the dead—the infamous Nocturnus Road—came about because an ancient ruler of Eldris, King Argoth, couldn’t bear to be entirely separated from his wife when she died.

It was a story I’d heard often while growing up, given how thoroughly it permeated our society. Parts of the elegy he’d written for his queen were often recited in wedding vows and toasts to long-lasting loves across the empire.

…And if death should take you

I will meet you there;

look for me where the light

gives way to shadow

Seek me where pain and sorrow yield

where time no longer flows;

I’ll find you in the stillness

before any heartache grows…

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