SoC: TbF- Bonus Chapter

    He watched the retreating backs.  A soft sigh passed through his lips as his present life’s back vanished from view.  Sanatos directed his attention back to his hosts.  Maurus Blake crossed his arms.  His gaze fixed on the floor as his mind ran rampant.  Aerora sat next to him.  Her blue eyes stayed on the former prince, watching him.  She inhaled, but he decided to take a chance before she asked something.

    “How did you know I am not of this era?”

    Blake’s eyes widened.  “You mean…  You’re not his relative,” he muttered before his eyes darted up.  “Then, who…?!?”

    “Maurus,” she demanded him to stop, jumping up to her feet.  Aerora stepped to stand between the two males, glaring her housemate down.  Blake gritted his teeth, but leaned back into his seat.  Angry lit his brown, fierce.  His shoulders tensed and froze as his feathers rose, fluffing out.  The elf watched the display before turning her back to him.  She sighed and faced Sanatos.

    “Your energy,” she answered.  “It is the same energy that influenced my tarot cards.”

    Sanatos’ jaw slackened.  Confusion etched itself onto his face as his mind race to find the right words.  “You’re sensitive to energy?  I thought your people…”

    “Some of us are,” she interrupted him.  “I have been since I was young.  Being this open to the outside world has often required me to find a way to isolate myself from it and cleanse myself of its energy before coming back to it,” she explained as her eyes closed in thought.  She folded her hands together, nesting them under her bosom.  Her blue eyes opened and looked squarely at him.  “Now, since I have answered yours, will you please answer one of mine?”

    He stopped, hesitating.  He gnawed on his bottom lip.  His mind weighed the options:  deny her and lose a chance to get more information or accept it and subject him to the questioning.  A soft growl vibrated in his throat as his pride wanted nothing more than to ask one thing after the other while leaving them in the dark about him.  His eyes left the elf and went to the male seated behind her.  His anger permeated the room, though Aerora ignored it.  He gave us so much though, the former prince thought.  I guess I could…

    “Very well,” he relented, breaking eye contact with Blake.

    Aerora smiled as she clapped her hands together.  Her blonde curls bounced while she hopped in place.

    ‘She’s acting like a kid’, Sanatos frowned.

    “All right.  Are you from the Age of Peace era?  Like the first or second half,” she probed him.

    “Neither,” he answered with a flat tone.

    Aerora blinked.  Her blue eyes turned light blue as confusion lit them.  She brought a hand to her chin, resting it on her thumb.  He watched her mind trying to piece it together.  “But,” she said, “I could have sworn…”

    “Then, when, stranger,” Blake hissed, cutting off his housemate.

    “War of the Gods,” the former prince answered, holding back the urge to puff out his chest.

    “What?  That would make you,” Aerora paused as she started to run the math.  “Old.”

    “Over 1,100 since my passing.”

    “But, you have reincarnated, right,” she asked.

    Sanatos nodded, “A few times.”

    Blake’s eyes widened as if he realized something.  He covered up his mouth as he mumbled.  Aerora looked at him, confused by his behavior.  She pressed him about it, but received a dismissive wave and his eyes looking somewhere else in the room.  Sanatos sighed.

    “To end your endless self-questioning, Blake,” he broke the silence.  “Yes, Beros is my recent reincarnation.”

    “Then, why are you just…”

    “Allowing him on this path?  Because he wills it,” the former prince stated.  “I gave him my opinion on the matter, but to convince him otherwise is against my duty to him.  For his good or not, I will not direct him in the opposite direction.”

    “Do you realize what is waiting for him,” Blake challenged.

    “Strength.”

    “What?”

    “Strength.  His self-confidence.  A realization that bravery does not mean her fears nothing.  Instead, it is the means in which he rises and faces them,” Sanatos clarified for him.  “Now that I have indulged the two of you, I take it that it is my turn?”

    Blake nodded with another one dancing on his tongue.  Sanatos directed his gaze back to Aerora.  “You were in the middle of a reading when we came in.  You had a card that kept coming up…  What was it?”

    “That…  It was card thirteen of the major arcana,” she answered.  “Its name is Death.  Whatever journey you and your friends are doing, I fear that it could end in tragedy and heart break.”

    Aerora paused as she pulled the deck out.  She shuffled them and looked up at him.  “Cut the deck and draw one card.”

    Sanatos obeyed, placing his chosen card on the table.  Aerora reached over and flipped it over.  A skeleton rider glared down on a woman and child from its horse.  The former prince leaned away from the table.  A sudden urge to flee from the horseman’s gaze washed over him as his eyes froze on the card.

    “This is Death,” Aerora introduced as she closed her eyes.  “It can symbolize change, either gradual or drastic, as well as tragedy.  Something that I feel is waiting for all of you at the very end.”

    “The change or the tragedy,” Sanatos pressed.

    “Either.  The tragedy could bring along change, but it could also not stick and change still occurs,” she answered.  “The cards only give me probabilities.  Thus, they are really a means to see the future.  The same goes for palm reading and staring into a crystal ball.  What we feel is just a probability and can still be changed,” Aerora explained.  She reached out to him, holding her hands open.  “Place your hands in mine.”

    Sanatos raised an eyebrow, but did so.  Her delicate fingers curl around his.  Her sapphire eyes retreated under their eyelids.  “I’m also feeling…that your vessel will not survive the journey.”

    “What?”

    He pulled his hands out of hers, numb.  His mind raced over her words, trying to unravel their meaning.  In the midst of his pondering, she leaned over the coffee table to get closer to him, ignoring Blake while doing so.  Her fingers reached for the yellow ribbon and pulled.  His red locks relaxed, reaching his mid back.  He studied her as she combed her fingers through his hair.  Until she found what she was looking for.  Aerora’s eyes softened as she pulled the lock into view.  “It already has begun.”

    Sanatos looked at it.  The color drained from his skin as his gaze locked onto the hair.

    How are you feeling?

    I’m…I’m reverting to my true form, he realized.  Why? Am I…am I truly running out of time?

    “Sir?”

    His eyes darted up to the elf’s, who had let go of his hair.  Her blue eyes watched him in concern as she backed away.  Sanatos rose to his feet and started to walk towards the stairwell.  Blake jumped to his feet as Aerora grabbed for the former prince.

    “Sir?”

    “I need to think this over,” he muttered.  “Let me go, please.”

    “Will you tell Solaris,” she pressed.

    Sanatos shrugged.  “I don’t know.  I don’t know if or what I will tell either of them.”

    “Spirit, if Solaris intends on going forward with this…”

    “I will watch over him.  That is a guardian soul’s duty.”

    Sanatos walked down the stairs.  He ignored the shop as he walked out the front door.  His eyes lowered to the ground.  He allowed his feet to wonder the town, aimless.  His mind replayed the revelations as worry grew within him.

    “Your vessel…will not survive the journey.”

    Then, what will happen to me, he wondered as his feet stopped.  The Helvian lifted his head and looked skyward.  Blue skies with fluffy clouds greeted him.  ‘Will I return to my place within him?  Or will Beros and I merge?  How long do I have?  Can I tell them?  Can I especially tell h-‘, the question stopped.  I can’t.

    His head hung as he soaked it in.  His feet resumed their walk.  Sanatos pulled a door open and stepped inside.  Soft voices surrounded him.  Colored light stained whatever it touched during the fading sunlight.  Stone brick blocked out the outside noise.  Oak wood pews lined each side of him.  He paid the other no mind, aware of their eyes as they watched him.  White satin accepted the colored light as it hung from the altar.  Behind it, a statue of a woman stood, staring out motherly at the people gathered.  New lilies surrounded her, blooming wide.  A floral fence of ivy and forget me nots under a wooden railing protected it from the on looking people.

    Sanatos lowered to his knees.  His hands immediately folded together.  His chin lifted up to look at the statue.  ‘Ivalina, you still watch over this place, don’t you’, he chuckled softly.  ‘I’ve never been the praying type.  Loyal, but prayer;, the words echoed as his eyes lowered.

    “But please…Tell me.  Just what is my purpose here,” he whispered.  “What is going to happen to me…once this vessel gives out?  What if he isn’t ready?  Ivalina, I at first distrusted you since you locked us Caelians away.  But, I come to you now for advice…”

    He pulled his hands up to his face, hiding behind his arms.  His teeth gritted together as he could listen to his own heart pounding against his chest.  “What should I do?”

    The goddess statue said nothing, but gazed down on him.  Sanatos lifted his chin again as he lowered his intertwined hands.  In the back of his mind, he recalled the small ceremony in her honor.  Back in Erca after she gave herself.  Still, he tried to at least appeal to her spirit, her legacy.  His eyes cracked open to look upon her.

    “Please?  I know my era ended long ago, but why can’t I find the strength now?  Why do I tremble at this news?”

    “Everyone fears death,” a voice whispered.

    Sanatos’ eyes snapped open.  He turned to look for who spoke.  A human close to his fifties smiled at him.  White hair receded from his forehead.  Warm brown eyes smiled at the kneeling Helvian as he approached and knelt down.  A simple dark blue outfit covered his fair skin.  A light blue stoll with bits of light green fabric hung over his shoulders.  The green was arranged in the floral pattern of Earthra he saw months ago.  “Death is an aspect of life.  Yet, we flee from it.”

    ‘I’ve already died once’, the former prince thought sourly.  His mind rushed back to his last days, years before.  Forcing the memory back, Sanatos focused on the priest.  “Can I help you?”

    “I’m wondering if I can help you.  I give advice to the lost,” he answered.  “Much like you, many are seeking answers.  I sense, though, that you are hesitant.”

    “There is a lot of things, priest.  All of them will not make sense to you.  I just can’t convince myself to share this new information with someone important to me.”

    Sanatos rose to his feet, causing the minister to look up at him.  His eyes darted away from the man. “Sorry, I-“

    “Don’t worry, child.  Here, about we have some tea for a while,” the older man suggested as he rose to his feet. “Please?  If you would like to talk, you can skip the confusing parts.”

    “Reverend,” he paused, looking down at the man’s hand.

    ‘Should I?  What could I accomplish if I go with him?  I really don’t want to chat about this, but’, he pondered.  He placed his in it, hestitant.  Sanatos felt the aged skin curl around it and decided his fate was sealed.  The Helvian tried to smile at the human, but his muscles refused to cooperate.  The minister paid little attention to it as he shook his hand in greeting.  He released it once he finished and signaled the Helvian to follow.  Sanatos swallowed a bit of air as his legs obeyed the gesture.  He glanced out into the pews.  The empty seats gave way to the silence around.  He looked forward and gasped. He leapt a step to catch up the man.

    “Minister, do people still come…”

    “Sometimes, though not typically at this hour,” he answered.  “You were the only one, traveler.”

    “But there were others behind me,” Sanatos insisted.

    The minister shook his head as he stopped at the door.  Fumbling with a ring of keys, he answered.  “It was just you when I stepped out.  It was probably the last of the evening crowd when you came in.”

    The lock clicked and opened as he pushed.  A couple chairs occupied the space in front of the wood burning oven.  A desk greeted them with its top clear.  Sanatos walked in and started to approach the chairs, but stopped.  The minister gestured to the desk and its seat.  “Go ahead.”

    “What about the tea?”

    “It has to be made.  If you want, I can give you paper and ink.  Maybe there is a person you would like to write to.”

    Before he could reply, the old man pulled out a few sheets of parchment.  His bony fingers pried the top off his inkwell, setting the well and a fountain pen in front.  Sanatos looked up at him.  His mouth opened to retaliate, but no words came out.  His eyes lowered to the blank sheet.  He swallowed as he tried to think.  He reached for the pen.  His fingers curled around the barrel and lifted it off the surface.  The metal tip tapped the page before it stopped.

    The tip dove into the inkwell and floated back to the page.  It directed the liquid onto the parchment as letters controlled his movements.  His hand paused, lifting the pen up from the sheet.  His eyes stared at the word.

    Madame.

    He was committed now.  The name was written and the rest had to be filled.  He didn’t want to question if this was the right choice.  Writing kept the elderly man’s attention at bay.  And if, the thought stopped as Sanatos shook his head.  If he and Beros merged, then it was meant to happen.  That’s all.

    The former prince glanced up, noting the man still tending to the pot of water.  His eyes darted back to the page as his hand lowered the pen.  He closed his eyes, imagining the woman with auburn curls and mischievous emerald eyes.  The right shade lipstick.  The perfect amount of make-up.  Just enough skin showing on her chest that treaded both eloquent and flirty.  Opening his eyes, Sanatos allowed his hand to continue.  ‘If I am going to write her again’, he thought.  ‘I might as well share what I can.  Present life may need her if it does happen.’

    He kept his eyes on the page, pausing to dip the pen into the ink well.  He transcribed what he uncovered that afternoon and his worry about it.  He confided in her that for now, she only knew it and his unwillingness to make this quest falter.  The scratching of his pen stopped.  His free hand grasped the edge, pulling the text full sheet aside and revealing a blank underneath.  The metal tip caressed the new surface as he shared their next destination.  His suspensions of what waited for them.  A plea to wait, asking her not to rush there unless she hears nothing from him.  A request not to share with Beros of this and his previous letter written the very day they emerged from the Erca rift.

    Signing his name, Sanatos skimmed the letter once more.  Then, he grabbed his first sheet and folded them.  He looked back at the preacher man, finally breaking their silence.  The man instructed him through the top left drawer of the desk.  Thanking him, Sanatos stuffed his letter into the envelope, sealing it with the available red wax.  Once it cooled, he turned it over and addressed it to the one person he could think of that could get it to her.

    An elemental his present life befriended.  Alexandros Lysistrate.

    A soft sigh escaped from him.  His mind pondered over if this was still the right, but there was no turning back now.  With everything in ink, it is there.  If not sent, then his companions could find it and read the things he didn’t wish to share.  His eyes glanced up, suddenly aware of mug of steam.  The minister sat close to the stove, sipping from his cup.  His gray eyes glance at him, locking onto the gold.  “Feeling better,” he asked.

    “A little,” Sanatos answered.  “What time is it?”

    The old man hummed, looking up to his mantle at a small clock.  “About nine at night, I’d say.”

    That long, a chill ran down his spine.  “I’m sorry, sir, but I have to go,” he announced, grabbing the envelope as he stood.  He reached into his pocket, fishing.

    “Don’t worry about it,” the man smiled.  “Use your coin to mail it.  I still have plenty of ink and paper to use.  Go and may you find peace.”

    “Thank you,” Sanatos bowed.

    He opened the door to the church sanctuary and closed it behind him.  He tried to keep his pace at a controlled stroll.  Silence and darkness filled the room, masking the goddess from his view as he glanced back in from the door.  It followed him onto the streets as the trading city calmed down for the night.  His mind retraced his steps over the daylight hours, finding himself walking past the small psychic shop where his trek started.  He pressed on, entering the now quiet square.  Once reaching the inn, he pulled the entry door open.

    The human managing the counter jumped.  His youthful greens widened and returned to their normal size while he watched the Helvian close the door.  “Good evening, sir.”

    “Good evening,” Sanatos nodded, approaching the stairs.  He stopped, looking down in his left hand.  He looked back at the young man, about twenty years of age.  “Excuse me, is there a way that I could mail this?”

    “Yes, mail is picked up first thing in the morning,” the clerk answered.  “Though the cost depends on where it is going.”

    “Fahlenwood.  It’s the last place I saw my friend at.”

    “That is six silver, but,” he paused for a moment, “to expedite it, that would be thirteen silver pieces.”

    “Expedite?”

    The clerk nodded.  “Usually, mail is taken by cart to the destination.  Some mail servicers, though, use avians like you to deliver it faster.  Since it may be just the messenger, the charge is more to cover a portion of food and board,” he explained.  “Though if you would like to have it sent by cart…”

    It may not make it in time, he realized.  Sanatos fished out his coin pouch, opening it.  Settling the letter down on the counter, he emptied the coin into his free hand and sorted through the pieces.  Thirteen copper bits, two silver, and one gold gleamed in the lantern light.  The former prince stared at the gold piece, hoping that he didn’t need to break it.

    “What is the cost if he isn’t there?”

    The clerk shrugged.  “Depends on where your friend went from there.”

    ‘There’s no choice.’

    Sanatos picked up the coin and dropped it into the clerk’s hand.  “Use that to cover the initial trip to Falhenwood.  Change is to be used if the carrier has to follow him.  Understand?”

    The clerk nodded before pulling out a mailing slip.  He transcribed the instructions on to the paper.  Then he paused to look up.  “What about the change if the piece isn’t entirely used?”

    “Keep ten percent for tip.  The rest, I guess, give to my friend.”

    The clerk quickly jotted it down and slipped the instructions, letter and coin into a another envelope addressed to the carrier.  “Thank you, sir.  Is that all for you tonight?”

    “Yes, thank you,” he sighed in relief.

    “Good night, sir.”

    Sanatos nodded and climbed the stairs.  He strolled down the hall, stopping at the third door on the left side.  He fished for his key, inserted it, and turned.  Sanatos slipped in, stopping as he noticed the oil wick lamp still burning.  Once he closed the door and locked it, he approached the light.  On the bed close to the window, Beros reclined with his eyes closed.  His chest rose and fell rhythmically.  Another sigh escaped the former prince as he approached.  He carefully wrapped his fingers around Beros’ ankles and pulled so the younger soul actually laid on the mattress.  Sanatos retrieved a backup blanket from the dresser and covered his companion.

    'You stayed awake, waiting for me didn’t you', he wanted to ask.  “Sorry to make you worry,” he whispered in Beros’ ear, causing the younger Helvian roll onto his side.

    Figuring he had nothing else to do, Sanatos climbed into the bed closest to the hall door.  He snuffed out the lamp and nestled down under the covers.  While his revelations still weighed on his mind, sleep claimed him.