Born of Death (Editing)

41. Shatter

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"Everyone is a moon, and has a dark side which he never shows to anybody."

-Mark Twain

Something brushed her consciousness. In her dream state, she saw him and her heart sank into her stomach as tears welled in her eyes. With her heart aching, she reached for him.

"You never failed me, it is I who has failed you."

"Is that any way to greet your brother, with tears?"

She stared at the wry smile at the corner of his lips. How could he even smile at a time like this? H-he, he! She burst into tears sobs wracking her small frame. Her nose flared burning while her teeth chatter. This was all her fault! If she hadn't met Cyriac this never would've occurred. Still, she felt incredibly selfish because even at this current state he still came first. She was such a horrible creature.

"Hey, hey, it's okay." His hands hovered above her while he tried his best to console her. "Hey sis," he said wrapping his arms around her. "Promise me you won't forget me."

Desperation clung to his words and Rosalinda swore she would. She would use all the power in existence to keep her promise.

"I promise," she croaked feeling the rock in her throat grow. The hazy swirl of grey and white began to fade and she trembled in fear pulling her brother in for a hug. Squeezing her eyes tight, she sobbed the sounds escaping from her lips as she placed her chin over his shoulder.

"Goodbye, sis," he whispered, fading.

"Not goodbye," she cried out. "See you later."

Rosalinda woke from the dream with a start the words flashing in her mind. a sad smile stretched across her face and she wiped the lingering tear at the corner of her eye frowning at the shiny metal shackle around her wrist.

"Good, you are awake. Come, darling, it's time you made your final transformation. Let the test began." The shackles tightened forcing her arms to stretch, and she screamed.

***

Something twanged in his chest where his heart should be and his brows furrowed in confusion. The words the child spoke were ancient. It was the language of creation and death stared confounded by the emotions tearing through him. This child, this boy, this son sacrificed his existence for his precious Dumu-mi. It was a favor he had to repay. He owed. His limbs were frozen by the sentimental feelings. As the power tore through his flesh, Thanatos mind tore at the seams with hunger and sadness. With the portal a swirl of stark white light, he prepared to give the order to move the army when he felt the screams of his daughter.

"We must move now!" he shouted with urgency, something was horribly wrong and he stumbled.

"Sire?" Abigor questioned, grabbing him. Thanatos vision blurred, and he heard Abigor hissing at the others to stay back like a rabid animal backed into a corner.

"Abigor, get to the portal. He's trying to remove it!" he screeched, panic blooming in his voice. "Cyriac, bring her home now!" he roared, in pain.

Shouts erupting around him, silent steps dusting against the ground.

"Master, please tell me what is going on?" Abigor pleaded.

"Rosalinda is essentially a part of me. Whatever has her captured is attempting to purify her and remove the piece. Without my Dumu-mi, I can't distinguish between the good and rotten souls. I need my Dumu-mi! There must be balance!"