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It seemed like we were all on the same page. Véa hadn’t given them eternity, and it was her right to choose that, but now we’d never have to lose them.
Lux and I met that evening. He was overjoyed as he explained. “It’s a spell combined with some herbs. I’ve brought them to the new world—have them cultivating there already. They’ll need to drink the elixir every few milleniums, possibly centuries if they put a lot of damage on their bodies, but it seems to perfectly replicate the eternity Véa gives. They won’t die, esiasch. As long as they take the elixir every five thousand years or so, they’ll live forever.”
“If it’s as simple as a spell, why hasn’t one been written before?” I’d asked.
With a chuckle, and a raise of his shoulder, he said, “There may be a bit of Véa’s eternity in there.”
It took decades before he told me what he meant by that.
The elixir was a spell and a potion. The liquid was nothing spectacular, compounded from berries and dried herbs found on both Matriaza and Morduaine. What made it so potent was Lux.
Since he was eternal, by extracting a bit of his blood, and a bit of his soul, he synthesized the tree of life. It wasn’t as strong as the real thing, hence why they’d need a dose every few thousand years, but it, essentially, created the same phenomenon as when an eternal had children with a partner who was not eternal.
Their wounds mended just as mine did—just as any eternal did. Although they aged, it was slow, slower than Angels and Werewolves who had lifespans near ten thousand years. In fifty thousand years, their body may have aged five human years. Which was why Michael and Gabriel, now, looked older than Véa, myself, or any of the other par animarum, closer to forty than our early thirties.
Véa never expressed disdain over the subject. She said very little when it came up. I wasn’t sure if it was because she was ashamed that she hadn’t given it to them, or if it was because she had no thoughts on the subject.
I assumed the former, because it was very rare that my wife didn’t have an opinion.
But I didn’t feel bad if it was shame. She’d chosen this. If she had made them eternal, Lux wouldn’t have needed to do create the elixir.
That was how I’d seen it then, at least.
Now, I stared up at that ceiling, and I saw that blade jutting from Venark’s ribs. I saw my sister falling to the ground, blood pouring from her chest. I saw Lux holding our dead father in his arms.
I saw my nephews doing it.
No, it hadn’t been Michael and Gabriel who put the blades through them, but they wouldn’t let me save them.
Hana’s dead. My baby sister isdead.
It finally settled in.
As my chest tightened, and the tears pricked my eyes, against that wooden ceiling, I saw my wife in Hana’s place. Then Mirobhail, and Vanna, and Friel, and Aein.
The boys I’d bounced on my knee as children wanted to kill me and everyone I loved.
“Véa,” I whispered.
“Nix.” Her voice was as quiet as mine.
“I’m sorry.”
“What for?”
“I walked away.” I couldn’t meet her gaze. “I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.”
Hardly more than a shadow visible in the evening light coming in from the windows, she propped herself up on her elbow. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, mi lim.”
I rolled onto my side to face her, reaching over the children for her hand. Twining them together, practically caging the little ones in, I whispered, “You saw what I didn’t in Michael and Gabriel. That day, you came in, and I could tell you’d been crying. I know it wasn’t an easy decision for you to make, but you did what was right, and it wasn’t fair that I was angry with you. I’m sorry.”
She let out a breathy laugh. “You’re only, eh, two-hundred-thousand and ninety hundred years late on that apology.”
Typical Véa to make a joke over a matter with no intended humor, but I couldn’t laugh. “I’m sorry.”
Her fingers tightened around mine. “It made no difference either way, did it? Lux was damned and determined to keep those boys alive.”
“We should’ve killed them.” Saying those words felt like a thousand knives piercing my heart. “After the things you saw in their minds, we should’ve killed them.”
