"You will still have some command over the Dark Realm," Kifirin's parent pointed out. "Only your actions will be supervised."
Kifirin's breath was cloudy as he glared at the one who'd come with his parent. Dark-haired and dark-eyed, one of the Koh'Ahmari gazed placidly back, his arms crossed casually over his chest. Kifirin knew better than to argue with this one—he outranked his parent by several levels.
"He calls himself Li'Neruh Rath," Kifirin's parent said before Kifirin could voice the question himself.
"You take the name of the Royal House on Kifirin?" Kifirin's breath turned black with anger.
"It is a legitimate word in your High Demon language. Do you intend to quarantine all words, should they be used as a name? What will you call a star after this, if the need arise?"
"Darkest Star?" Kifirin knew he was being disrespectful in his interpretation of the Koh'Ahmari's chosen name.
"I choose the names I will allow others to employ. You will call me this. I will allow disrespect this time only. Do it again and I will remove your power." Kifirin blinked in astonishment as a curl of smoke drifted from Li'Neruh Rath's nostrils.
* * *
Lissa's Journal
Kifirin stood before me, as did Gardevik Rath. This wasn't going to be easy, and I wasn't looking forward to it. My pregnancy was making its presence known, too—I felt queasy and this made it worse. Garde hung his head—he likely knew what was coming. Kifirin blew smoke but knew better than to approach.
Belen had already come—I'd asked him, as Chief of the Nameless Ones, for advice before proceeding with this. He'd listened sympathetically and offered comfort as he'd agreed with my plan. He'd also offered to stay with me while I did this. He remained silent at my side, glowing softly while I studied two of my mates.
"I hoped your overseer would come with you, but I see that isn't the case," I spoke to Kifirin first. "I think I'd like to speak with him, but Belen tells me that he is of those who outrank the Nameless Ones, so his presence I cannot request or command." I was making this as formal as I could.
Darker clouds of smoke poured from Kifirin's nostrils as black eyes blinked at me. "Kifirin, you could have asked for help," I pointed out. "You could have explained things better. But you, thinking that the mighty god of the Dark Realm was above all that, refused. Instead, you chose to exert your power and will over the rest of us. Yes, I know you still outrank me—I am only a mid-level Nameless One, after all, while you are ranked in the highest echelon. It doesn't matter—I no longer consider you my mate. Perhaps in a century or two, I will reconsider, if you wish to keep your claiming marks on my neck. I loved you. A part of me still does, but you have done so much damage."
My last words were whispered as I wiped away tears. I still couldn't understand—and might never understand—his reasoning in this matter. So many had suffered as a result, but none more so than Reah. That pain would follow her forever, and she was the mother of my grandchildren.
"Avilepha, do not do this, I beg you," Kifirin held out a hand. "I have already received chastisement from my parent and the one who now rules the Dark Realm above me."
"You're getting it from me, then, too." I was hoping my lower lip wouldn't tremble and betray how much this was costing me, but it did anyway.
"Avilepha, I will return to you, and keep returning, until you take me back." Kifirin looked ready to weep but unlike me, he held back the tears.
"Then leave now," my voice trembled. "I'm not ready to take you back." Kifirin disappeared.
"Lissa, no," Garde dropped to his knees. He didn't attempt to hide his grief, as Kifirin had.
"Gardevik Rath, your Thifilathi is wiser than you. As old as you are, you should have known better. Get out and don't come back until Kifirin is welcome again on Le-Ath Veronis." I was done with him for now, and likely would be for a very long time. When he disappeared, Belen had to hold me up, I was weeping so hard.
* * *
"Reah, you are cold." I knew who he was—Connegar, one of Lissa's Larentii mates. He moved his hands and clothed me in a soft, white woolen caftan. The robe was long and covered my feet as I sat upon a boulder on Thiskil's southern beaches.
"I know you recognize me," the corners of his eyes crinkled a little as he smiled at me. "And you know my mother. You met her not long ago—Conner? Remember? Most Larentii are named after their mothers."
"Is that how it works?" I wiped wetness from my cheeks and stared up at him. He was tall, even for a Larentii.
"Yes. Renegar is Kiarra's son, but her name before she joined the Saa Thalarr was Renée. He actually is named after his mother."
"That's a nice name," I said. "And it suits him, to be named after that."
"It suits him well and he likes it. We choose our names, shortly after we are born," Connegar informed me.
"Then you can't get angry with your parents for giving you an awful name."
"Very true. We have no one to blame but ourselves if we dislike it after a while. Reah, I have met many during my life who deserved so much more than they received. Mother and I are prepared to give you a gift. She is the Guardian, you know. At times, she can stand at the line that separates the here and now from the ones who are not here and now. That is permitted if she commands it. We will be taking you to this side of that line, so you may speak to some. Come, we will pay a visit." Connegar took my arm and transported me elsewhere.
"This is where some arrive to cross over," Connegar walked beside me in a beautiful field filled with flowers. The flowers were so tall they came to my waist and I could smell the sweet scent of them as I walked through. Barefoot as I was, nothing harmed my feet as I walked. The grass was like the softest carpet beneath my soles.
"Nothing will harm you here. This is a protected area. There are other places to cross over. Some are dangerous. Those are reserved for the ones who have done evil during their lives."
"You do this? Bring people here when they can't find their way?" I don't know how I knew that, but I did.
"Yes. As does my mother. See, she is waiting for us." I looked ahead, and Conner was waiting for us, next to a shimmery curtain that reflected the field we walked through.
"Reah," Conner smiled at me and beckoned me forward. "I have arranged for you to see these. Remember, none can bring physical harm to you, now. There is no need to fear."
Connegar stood at my back, hands on my shoulders when the first one walked through the shimmer. I don't think he was allowed to walk farther than he did, and I was glad. Even so, I backed against Connegar as far as I could. Edan Desh, the one I'd known growing up, stood before me.
"Reah." He dropped to his knees and bowed his head to the ground. I had no idea what he was doing.
"Now you recognize?" Conner's voice was hard and her eyes were bright as stars.
"I am not worthy to apologize," Edan mumbled.
"Will you not explain to her?" Conner asked.
"It is too terrible. I was wrong. I have to try harder next time."
"He is punishing himself," Connegar said quietly behind me.
"How is he punishing himself?" I looked up at the tall Larentii.
"He is planning his next lifetimes. He will suffer during those lifetimes. The Edan that Kifirin brought back has already suffered and his misdeeds are wiped away."
"You are not obligated to forgive me," Edan still hadn't looked at me.
"Stand up," I said. Edan stood, his head still bowed.
"Look at me." He lifted his eyes. Terrible sorrow clouded their depths. "I wanted you to love me," I said. "I didn't know why you wouldn't. I worked hard in the kitchen, thinking you would notice and give a kind word or something."
"I know that, now. Children are so vulnerable. They are born needing love. I robbed you of that. Twice. I was selfish and thought of myself and what I wanted." I looked into Edan's hazel eyes. He was being honest for a change. When I was growing up in the kitchens of Desh's number two, he'd seldom been honest—with anyone, including, most likely, himself. All had suffered at his hands who worked under him, but I was the one whose bones were broken.
"If I could take it all back now, I would," he said. "And not just because it would make my future lives easier. My path did not lie through this meadow," he sighed. "It lay through a dark land filled with sharp rocks that I walked through with no shoes. I was forced to walk through it with no help, daughter."
"Then I am sorry for you," I said. "I know what pain is, and it gives me pain to see another suffer, even if they are not kind."
"I know." Edan hung his head again. "I am so sorry. I see many things, now. And the ones who teach me show me many things. Point out others still struggling through their lives. Ask me what path they should take. I am learning."
"Do they love you?" I asked.
"Yes. And I am not deserving in this stage of my existence."
"We all learn things," I said. "Or we should. I wish it were a good thing to see you, Edan, but I have terrible memories."
"I know. And I understand that. I wish I could offer comfort, but I am not allowed to touch."
"And I cannot trust, because you did what you did, and then others that came after you did the same. And I wish I could trust, Edan. That was a gift that was stripped away at a very early age."
"If I could give you a gift, what would you have of me?" Edan asked.
"Something you can't give," I said. "I will never have a father's love. Not as it should be. A father loves and protects his child, don't you think? Do you know what it was that I did in the life before this one, to deserve what happened to me? Do you know?" I was wiping tears away.
"I am not allowed to give information," he said. "Seeing you is like a flower drinking in rain after a drought. I wish I'd lived my life better, so I would see my grandson."