The Other Side Of Me [Sequel to Faen's Child]

Chapter 20

Chapter 20

He jolted back to reality, his gaze snapping to see himself staring back in the mirror. He observed his appearance in the mirror, glad that he looked as normal as a Faen could be. Internally, he snarled at the off-color in his hair, but he would give it time for the whiteness to fully manifest. For now, he would deal with black-streaked white hair. He could still feel his inner self struggling, but he was confident it would stop soon.

He knew his inner self well. He should be; considering how much time he’d spent on the other side of him. He began to hunt around the room, trying to search for something he was sure was around. He had remembered the last time he took these eyes –he had remembered seeing where that box was. The note that came along with it was unimportant –the junk in the box was.

He found it hiding in one of the drawers hanging by the wall, and got them out on the bed. Without caring for its neatly wrapped appearance, he tore the ribbon open and dug his hand through the messs of scrap, crumpled paper. No one thought to look through the mountain of love notes, for if they did, they would have found a transmitting clicker at the bottom of it, along with a pair of metal bands that fit as simple bracelets. But these accessories were not prized for their simplicity, no. They were important for something else instead.

He took the clicker by one hand, and took some time to remember the signal. Quickly, he made a series of clisk, and momentarily felt as if he were a navigator on a ship, signalling for help through morse codes.

Once he was done, he had no time to doubt whether he had sent the right signal. He went into the bathroom, got himself a bucket of water, and began to reconnect with a pair of elements that he was unfamiliar with. Yet, he managed to perfect his hold over them in an hour or so, and as he brought all his elements together, he began to feel his power grasping for new ones.

New ones, that he had never been in touch with since Cyrial was his name. They rushed to greet him like old friends, and he flexed them out, their responses strong and wuick under his trained power.

The visions of many translucent people filled his eyes as it flashed iridescent silver and he smile, watching himself standing, the only opaque figure in the midst of the many souls. Some of them placed translucent arms on his shoulders, eyes filled with sorrow and tears, begging to be freed. Others clung to him, begging to serve him.

He raised an arm, a stern look at them through the mirror. He watched them shrink back in shock and fear, and could not help but grin victoriously. He was back –full power.

Then, he saw two spirits, amongst those that filled the room. They watched him with fear, but there were other emotions with their facial expressions too. They were worried and anxious.

“Come.” He said sternly, catching their eyes.

They srahnk even closer to the door, shaking their heads. One of them looked middle-aged and she had greying hair. The other was young, almost his age, with a matured body-figure, a cute baby-face.

“Come.” He repeated with a harder voice, and yet, they squirmed away. The elder looking one grabbed the hand of the younger one, and they looked ready to bolt off. He knew that those who didn’t answer to him were the spirit-servants of other spirit-users. But how could there be two, along with him in this place? Even the Faen’s Child’s spirit-servant wouldn’t be here, but rather watching over her beside her instead.

“I order you to come to me.” He practically glared at then through the mirror, as though glaring at them outright would turn them to stones.

“No. We do not belong to you. Neither does that body and power. It belongs to Raun Alveron.” The younger one spoke up rebelliously, and the older one took another step closer to the door.