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Like a clap of thunder sounding in my mind, I understood what was happening. I was the brother of one of the gods, and this scene was after the fall of the titans, which is why my chest ached and why I could feel it. My soul remembered.
If it were true—a real memory of this person—did that mean this was who Clawdia and I were before the fall?I looked around with renewed interest at the scene.
This was our past life.
We approached a small market, but although the stalls appeared much newer and sturdier than the market stalls in my hometown, the people looked just as desolate as the titans I remembered. The elderly lady moved slowly to a stall, picking up a few items and purchasing them with coins before coming back to me. It was then I realized I was carrying a basket. She placed the items in the basket and smiled up at me.
"It's a good idea," I said, and I'd been so distracted I didn't remember what I was replying to. My mind supplied it a moment later. The elderly lady wanted to throw a party for the return of the gods. "Yes, Mother. Something to look forward to."
Mother. She was my mother. The mother of my past. When my soul was whole. It had been years since I’d looked into the eyes of my mother or felt her warm embrace. In the wrinkled golden skin and beaming smile this lady gave me, I felt that again.
She nodded happily and tapped my cheek before turning away to presumably start preparing for the party. My hand grasped at her wrist before she could step away, and she looked quizzically at me. "I love you very much, Mother," I told her.
She smiled sadly at me. "And I love you, my son. I wish I could ease your suffering."
My grip on her wrist loosened and slid to hold her hand. Tears formed in my eyes. "And I wish I could ease yours."
She gave me another brave smile and rubbed my arm with her free hand. "Once all my boys are home, I'm sure my heart will be a little more settled."
"And if it isn't?"
My eyes were focused on the ground, the tears still welling, but I heard her sigh and felt the rise and fall of her shrug from her hand on my arm. "Then I shall learn a way to settle it. Pain is not eternal, my boy. With every cloudy day, the sun peeks through."
My head tipped back to look at the sky, where the sun shone brightly. "And what if you can no longer see the sky?"
"Even if you can't see it, it is always there. And when you are ready, you'll feel the warmth of the sun's rays on your skin and remember." Her hand fell to the handle of the basket on my arm and lifted it into her fragile, small hands.
She is so strong. She probably feels the same gaping hole as I do, but she is so positive for her son.
I nodded but said nothing as I let her take the basket, squeeze my hand, and walk away.
Then it went dark. As though someone had turned out the lights, there was suddenly nothing. I just existed.
I was left to think. I had promised to see my siblings again and had so far failed to do so. What happened to the pained past me? Had he lived on with that pain and made the best of his life, or had the pain consumed him?
From nothingness, a feminine voice whispered, "Ah, here you are."
"Where am I?" I asked. I couldn't see anything. I didn't know where here was. Thankfully, it was my voice that came out, which confirmed I wasn't living the afterlife of my past soul.
"Don't worry about where. It's information you need now."
"Information?"
On my siblings? On my past life?
"You are in a perilous situation,” she began gravely, “Caged by witches who plan to drain you of your power and use it as they intended to with the fire. If that does not kill you, they will sacrifice you in the hope that your blood holds extra power.”
"What?" Shock and anger deepened my voice to a growl.
"Your hearing isn't impaired, titan," the voice teased.
Helplessness threatened to overwhelm me. "How do we escape?"
"I can't tell you that. But maybe this will be enough to wake you from your stupor."
The next thing I knew, my eyes opened with a flash to see the witch named Deborah. She kicked the lantern, smashing it against the bars, and I snapped. I roared and charged toward her, attacking the bars and the blue forcefield that protected her from me. Fury raced through my body, a kind of anger I hadn't felt in a very long time. The kind that comes from injustice and fear and confusion. The kind that comes from a slave.
First, she and her witches had attacked Savida and his kind. Now, she taunted us and waited for Clawdia to wake, all so she could use us as the replacements for her ceremony to raise the protector?
