Page 132 of Aïdes the Unseen
“You were a daughter.”
“You were a weapon.”
Irina stood in the center of the storm and refused to flinch.
She looked at all of them—herself in warrior’s armor, in temple robes, in bloodstained linen and bridal silks—and said:
“I remember all of you.”
And then:
“But I am notjustyou.”
The chamber fell still. Her nose began to bleed again. A thin line of red across her lip, sacred and raw. I wiped it away with my thumb, gently.
AT THE RIVER’S EDGE
The dog ran ahead, barking once into the mist. Irina followed, barefoot, robes trailing through reeds and damp soil.
I followed her, always.
The river looked like Lethe. But it wasn’t. It shimmered withchoice.
One step forward, and she could forget.
One step back, and she would remain mortal.
“I’m not giving it up,” she said to no one in particular.
“Not your humanity?”
“Not anything.”
I said nothing. Just stood beside her as she dipped her hand into the water—and came away with a flame, not wetness. Her eyes—her eyes burned with every life she had lived.
THE FINAL DOOR
It stood beneath roots and sky, silver-veined and waiting. The sigils thrummed, reacting to her touch before it even made contact. She staggered. Her breath came thin, but she smiled at me. Pale, trembling, beautiful in her stubbornness.
“If I fall,” she whispered, “promise me you won’t stop.”
I cupped her face in both hands, pressing my forehead to hers. “I won’t let you fall.”
“You can’t stop it.”
“Idon’t care.I’ll follow you into memory, into madness—whatever this is. I will not leave you alone in it.”
She kissed me once. A whisper of a kiss.
Then turned and opened the door.
The wind changed. There was no warning. Just a weight in the air that pressed down like the hand of some vast, indifferent god—and then the sky itself split.
One flash of lightning, and Zeus stepped through. The ground he stood on cracked beneath his feet. Poseidon followed a breath behind, trailing seawater and arrogance, his trident humming with latent threat.
Irina didn’t flinch.
I did not step in front of her—not yet.
