Page 106 of Anathema Codex

After all, as soon as I get back to Lakyn, everything will be better.

Then I can take my mask off for good.

FIVE

It’s A Good Life

THE DAUGHTER

My body is slick with sweat, but so is his. The warmth of his breath against my lips when he lets out one last euphoric groan as I feel him spill his seed inside me makes me shiver.

While I have no intention of dying, I’ll need an heir if the Light calls me home. Someone that will carry on the good work that I’ve done here and continue to bring others toward the truth.

I place a hand on either side of his face as he leans down the last inch and presses his lips to mine. When his curve up into a smile, I shake my head fondly and give him a gentle push away.

He’s very dutiful in his tasks, loyal to the point of no return already, and as he lays down behind me and presses his body against mine, I know that any child that we may produce will be the greatest Light Weaver that existence will ever know.

He brushes my hair aside so that he can rest his chin on my bare shoulder, and I interlink my fingers with his once his arm is wrapped securely around my waist.

This life is so wonderfully strange sometimes… the son of my enemy is now the man that I choose in this life and the next.

Who would have thought that Lakyn would have been able to produce something good with his miserable life? Something so pure that has never harmed another or harbored the same thoughts of ill repute as the one that had a hand in making him?

A few moments later, his breathing is even. Being the One True Soul Lover of Light takes a lot out of him, but once he’s well rested, we’ll take another meal, share ideologies, and consummate our relationship again.

I feel a little tired myself, but I can’t stop thinking about Lakyn for some reason. I had not thought of him in so long, but to think that I hadn’t recognized him as easily as I saw his mirror image in the boy makes me wonder if the Cactus of Ambrosia is running dry faster than it should.

Sun Wolf, Raindrop, and Luminescence will find a newer, sturdier supplier of the Water. I’ll separate them and send them into the furthest regions of the Holy Grounds of Light until it’s done, and all will be well again.

My vision will be true again, and come with the perfect clarity of the Light that seems to have waned and allowed me to harbor such confusion.

When I first saw Aftyn, I’d been sure it was Lakyn. His name had appeared in my mind like a bubble rising to the surface, and at first I’d only remembered a sense of loyalty. To me. Once upon a time he’d followed me, but then he turned away. I remember the anger in him now, that simmering rage that I saw in him when I did not recognize him as he stood before me, instead looking only at his son.

A soft sigh escapes me because as I remember that moment, another irksome thought rises. Lakyn kept saying the name of a man I don’t recall. One that he repeated with such insistence that I wonder if this unknown person should hold some meaning for me.

What was the name?

I close my eyes for a moment and wrack my brain, but as any memory I should supposedly have of this person, the name itself eludes me. Lakyn and the other are part of a past blocked out by the Light.

When the boy awakens, I’ll ask him about this mysterious shadow from my past and hope that he can shed some light on an otherwise forgotten subject. Perhaps it will be the key to unlocking Lakyn’s anger so he can finally be free of it.

* * *

I always love the way the greenhouse smells after a midday nap. As I slowly make my way down the first aisle, I notice that the beans are sprouting nicely. Running my fingers along the edge of the table, I continue my examination of what we’ve been able to accomplish with love and Light alone.

A glance over my shoulder to ensure that I’m alone spurs me on and I move quickly, my feet becoming one with the wet dirt that coats the floors inside. A sharp left at the end of the aisle and I remove a false panel that allows me to climb down a ladder into another, smaller room that even my closest Weavers aren’t aware of. Taking a deep breath, I follow the underground path for about ten minutes until I find the next entrance.

I run a hand along the wall next to it, blindly since it’s completely dark where I am now, and when I find what I’m looking for, I quickly move my fingers in the Way of the Light to open the door.

Stepping into the room, I carefully move toward the center table, guided only by memorizing the number of footsteps needed to find it, then light the lantern that sits in the middle. As the flame flares to life, the room becomes dimly lit. The air hangs much lower here, and the drawings on the walls were made by someone that I was a long time ago.

I sometimes make my way down here when I want to remind myself that I’m a better person now. That teaching the Way of the Light to so many confirms that the girl I once was died alongside whatever memories have been prodding at me, fighting to force their way back ever since Lakyn found me here.

But much like the air below the Holy Ground of Light, the shell of my former self still clings desperately to the secrets I hide here.

She wants to be free again, to roam the Earth as she once did, though I do my best to forget her a little more each time I slip away from my children to seek out this place where she haunts me relentlessly.

I want her to go away.

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