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Pulse pounding in his ears, a shuffling step backward took him nearly into the hallway. For the first time in centuries, he felt like that golden-haired child once more, splayed open and defenseless.
“Remmus, you were psychically poisoned,” Kaien explained. “The poison ran deep, deeper than I could have healed, and it nearly killed you.”
Truth.
The odd sentiment reverberated through him, an offer from the source of his power as though it was a gift. Still wary, he snuck a glance in at the other faces around the room, weighing their responses. No one seemed to be in a mocking mood.
“Then how am I alive?”
“Zeke used psychic fire to burn it from your mind,” Kaien answered. “Without him, it would’ve claimed your life.”
Remmus was trying to grasp the severity of his situation and the debilitating need to thank his new sovereign.
Unfortunately, given the situation, shrugging off his appreciation for Zeke’s lifesaving gift couldn’t be condoned. Preparing himself for the reparations his mind would require, Remmus looked Zeke in the eye.
“Thank you, sovereign. I am indebted to you.”
His hand clamped down at the admission, the familiar nuisance of nails pricking into his palm in their thirst for blood. Zeke gave him a simple nod, and for a moment, Remmus thought he’d passed whatever test fate had thrown his way this time.
Then, the unthinkable happened.
Kaien gently grasped his wrist, pulling it into sight and wrapping his fingers around Remmus’ clenched fist.
“Let go, Remmus.”
Anger, fear, and betrayal collided in a tangled web of emotions. Kaien had never revealed his secrets.
Flinching, Remmus’ muscles corded in his forearm as he battled to unlock the tension and pry open his own fingers. With a grunt of effort, they released, but instead of feeling the coercion double down, it vanished.
Strange. It’d never behaved like that before.
Kaien’s hands gently pressed into his now-bloody palm. The healing balm of power spread over his skin, instantly erasing the wounds from his flesh.
“Never again, Remmus. I won’t let you weather this alone any longer.”
Truth.
You’re not worth it, his mind volunteered.
“No one thinks less of you, Remmus.” Zeke’s tone was decisive. “You’ve proven your mettle time and time again. We don’t choose our parents, but we choose our path. And yours is straight as an arrow.”
The sentiment confirmed that the sins of his past had been revealed while he slept. Now, Zeke and the others knew the lineage he hailed from. Remmus didn’t know whether he should be horrified or relieved.
“What do you remember, Remmus?” Aidan asked. “About before you went to sleep?”
Aidan’s keenness for him to remember something was unexplainable. To date, they’d always had an agreeable relationship, but Remmus wouldn’t categorize them as good friends.
Focus turning inward, Remmus searched his mind with a newfound vigilance. Now that he knew what he was looking for, he found signs that all was not right within. The well of his power bore significant effects from the poison. It looked drastically altered with the influx of a new type of darkness, and he wouldn’t be surprised if his psychic signature had altered.
More importantly, a whole section of his memory seemed charred and compromised. After searching once more, he’d still only come up with three flimsy fragments.
“Only snippets.” Attempting a casual shrug, Remmus said, “I know its winter, I was off on an errand, and I returned home.”
“You don’t remember anything else?”
The horror in Riaz’ russet brown eyes sent a ping of panic through Remmus’ gut, and he read between the lines.
“What have I forgotten?”
