Auren’s mind scrambled to make sense of the words. "Okay," he finally said. "Why is it I have been called to hear of this?" He was a pillar, unfaltering. He was the satellite tower upon which the Celestial’s words beat.
"I have called you here for a purpose. One that is bigger than all of us. I have called you here to demand something of you that goes against your very nature. That is, I wish for you to ignore the calls you feel—from this point until the end."
"You wish… You wish for me to ignore my purpose?"
The shadow bobbed, as if nodding. "You have my blessing to ignore every call you receive. Your purpose is greater now. OtherSoul Searchers will reap the many Souls that fill the Earth. Do not worry—they will find their way to the Stars to be reborn."
"What is this new purpose you bestow upon me?"
"Time will tell." A great wind moved through the silence of the night. "For now, do as you have been."
"If that is what you wish," Auren murmured. Inside, he was reeling. The shadows ebbed, and fear filled him. He drew in a sharp breath. "Wait!" The Celestial paused. Auren waited to be struck down, for his Star to burn in punishment for demanding something of such a being, but it never came. The Celestial waited patiently. "I am to stay on Earth"—the words were so hard to say—"until its end? I cannot leave?"
The Celestial’s voice was filled with sadness. "You must stay on Earth."
"What about the others? I cannot warn them or—or…" He would stay if he must. He would die the worst of deaths. But Vesperin. He would bargain with his very Soul if it meant she would be carried from the same fate.
"You have someone you care for?"
"Yes. I do."
"She will thrive. I swear it to you." The Celestial’s words were knowing. "Auren Neris, you may not tell a Soul of this night. You are sworn to secrecy."
"I swear it," he whispered hoarsely, knowing it was a lie. What would become of him if he broke his word to a Celestial? Would his Soul shatter? He would endure it.
"That is not enough. You must make an oath. Any word of this meeting or the knowledge that has been imparted upon you will die upon your lips if you attempt to speak it. Swear the oath."
Auren’s half-hearted plans fractured, swallowed by the wind. "How?"
"It is the same way you swore an oath when you were given immortality as a Soul Searcher in the Stars."
Auren didn’t remember that. He remembered nothing of being in the Stars, or any life he lived prior to this state—never aging, never dying, always working. If he had a life before this, he did not know of it. He knew nothing but his blade—and now his Soulbond.
"Your scythe. Use the blade to slice your palm. Not too deep. Merely enough for blood to well. Place your palm over your bare chest—your heart. Then repeat after me."
As Auren obeyed, a strange recognition stirred within him. His Soul remembered the movements; though, his mind did not.
He did not feel the pain as he used the edge of his scythe to cut his palm. He cut just a bit deeper than needed, wanting to wake up from this terrible dream.
"I, Auren Neris," said the Celestial. Auren echoed the words. "Vassal to the Stars and the Celestials, give up my voice of this night. No words shall part from my lips. They will remain sealed within me. Any words I speak shall die on my tongue. So it is vowed, so it shall be."
Their voices joined, and upon the last word, Auren felt a strange sensation at the hollow of his throat, as if something ancient had settled there.
He swallowed thickly.
"It is done." The Celestial swept a bit closer to him. Though the shadow was dark, it felt like staring into the sun. Auren’s eyes watered. "Celestials cannot make oaths, Auren, but I hope you will believe my words to be as binding as the oath you just made. Your Soulbond is cared for and watched over. She is protected, and she will be safe. She is loved." The Celestial’s voice turned thick, heavy with emotion. A strange thing. Did timeless beings feel like mortals did? Even as an immortal, Auren sometimes felt he experienced things through a shroud. Itwas never enough. "By more than just you and her four others. She is loved dearly. Make her feel it."
With that, the shadow dispersed, like smoke swept away by wind. Leaving Auren alone, standing at the top of the satellite tower with a locked tongue and teary eyes.
He did not know how long he stood there, but the moon seemed to still in shared grief, as if waiting for him to wake from a fugue state before time ticked on. Stars dazzled the dark sky, and Auren broke, slashing his scythe through the air with frozen, stiff fingers as he stepped through the portal.
Rin woke up to an absence.She felt the cool spot on the mattress beside her—where Auren had fallen asleep, now empty. Her eyes moved to the bedside table, and she found it barren of his scythe, where he had leaned it before getting into bed.
He was gone.
Slowly, Rin sat up. The others’ quiet breaths filled the room. She crawled out of the bed on her hands and knees, movements torturously slow. As she stepped onto the ground, her bare toes nudged an arm. She looked down and found Rhyden, sleeping on the floor—as always. His arm was behind his head, his hand on his lower stomach. His dark, fitted shirt had ridden up above his navel, revealing his muscled stomach and a strip of hair that disappeared beneath his unbuttoned jeans.
Had he meant to fall asleep?she wondered as she stared at his clothes and the gun resting by his shoulder, within arm’s reach.
