The Hands of Time and Love

“You—”

“Me!” Lucifero said joyfully.

“The fact that you’re somehow still alive makes me want to crash out. I know I absolutely obliterated you. How are you even here?” Aria demanded.

A musty odor curled around the bars of the cell. Her face was still semi-swollen from the door bashing, yet she could still smell the stagnant water that dripped from the ceiling. The walls were soaked, and the cell floor was frighteningly cold which only added to her woes. If the devils didn’t kill her, the encroaching mold and mildew probably would. Things were bad enough already, dealing with the devils.

“Literally, how do I get this unlucky? It hurts to walk, my face hurts—everything still hurts. How do I keep getting the short end of the stick here?”

She snuck a quick peek at Brendan who was deep in conversion with Lyra. Their body language indicated some level of disagreement though she had no idea what they could be on about at a time like this. Lyra folded her arms across her chest. She furrowed her brow as Brendan’s harsh whispers resonated with the steady drip of water. It was almost like their argument had a musical beat to it.

“I’m sure you’re familiar with the whole ‘cats have nine lives’ thing.” Lucifero said, grinning. “For us devils—”

“Enough, you blabbermouth, before you say too much. This is why you were better off staying dead.” Mikaun’s voice rose from the shadows. “Don’t listen to him. He’s an idiot, hence why you were able to snuff him out again.”

Aria turned her head towards Mikaun’s voice, ignoring Lucifero, as she peered into the pitch-black labyrinth. Candles lined the walls, melted wax dripping down their holders, but the darkness was deep; the candlelight struggled to illuminate more than six inches or so of space before it was snuffed out by the murky maze. The further down the tunnel she looked, the more tiny bubbles of candlelight she saw. In fact, there were several tunnels, attributing to the labyrinthian layout.

Moss clung to the walls, or was it some kind of fuzzy mud? She shivered. It would be too soon if she never had to see it again. To make matters worse, the air was thick with moisture—oppressively so. The weird moss-like fuzz seemed to be the culprit as it gave a disgusting sigh, spitting more water into the air. Whatever wasn’t covered by the moss was just dirt and limestone. It reminded her of old mining tunnels, just… more gross.

“What does he mean by ‘again’? I finished Lucifero, but Saint Miruna didn’t which means Mikaun just implied this is his third life or whatever? But that means I was right. Saint Miruna did win his fight against Lucifero, like I originally assumed he had… So, just how many lives do these devils have, exactly?”

“My brother is also an idiot,” a pompous female voice said.

Aria had heard enough. Lucifero was back and Mikaun was— She couldn’t think of a word to describe something like Mikaun. “Devil” was truly a perfect fit: he was deceptive, cunning, and knew how to manipulate emotions. She couldn’t believe she’d let her guard down, even after making it clear that she’d never trust a devil, and now, there was yet another one to contend with: the second of the Binary Twins—Mikaun’s sister.

“What I don’t understand,” she started, “is why you’d warn us about yourself, choose to help us, and then bring us here.” A pair of eyes stared back at her like embers in the dark. “What is your goal here, exactly?”

More heated whispering erupted from the back corner of the cell, adding to Aria’s frustration. Before she could turn around to give Lyra and Brendan a piece of her mind, a loud slap arose from Brendan’s cheek. Apparently, she didn’t like whatever he’d had to say, which only frustrated Aria more.

“Men,” Lyra groaned telepathically. “Aria, I need you to buy us another minute. Just keep those three busy.”

“No pressure, Lyra,” she replied sarcastically. “There’re three devils in the same room as us. What do you want me to do? Invite them to a dance-off?”

“I don’t care what you do. Just give me a minute.”

Mikaun piped in again. “You’re a smart girl, Aria. I see no reason for us to answer your questions. You can put two and two together, can you not?”

She scoffed. “Well, since we’re all here now, how about your sister introduce herself? I have a right to know who my captors are and everything, do I not?” Buying time wasn’t her strong suit, but she was great at conversation. “Oh, and Lucifero?”

“Yes, dear?”

She threw up in her mouth a little. “Would you mind giving us a little space? Since I already know you so well, I’d like to get to know the twins a little better. If you do, the next time I find you, I’ll give you a whole sixty-second head start before I hunt you down and make sure you stay dead. Deal?”

“You assume you’re going to live long enough to try,” he laughed. “Very well then. If you really think you’ll live long enough for us to cross swords, then I look forward to our rematch.”

“Yes, it will be quite… blistering,” she said threateningly sweet. “One more thing, though.”

“Yes, dear?” he repeated.

“You make me sick. I think I just threw up in my mouth again.”

“Wait for him to disappear, then grab Brendan. Hold him tightly,” Lyra’s voice came. “You’ll know when.”

Aria pressed for conversation again, trying to buy a little more time. “I mean, I guess you don’t have to tell me,” she said, addressing Mikaun’s sister, “but, now that Lucifero is gone, I just thought we should get formalities out of the way since we’re alone. Besides, I’d like to know who I’m about to turn into dust, you know?”

“I kind of like you, Aria.” Mikaun’s sister stepped out of the shadows revealing long, dark hair and red eyes that bore into her soul. “I go by Herlit. Technically, I’m ranked higher than my brother here, but Ahzef has designated me as fifth-ranked despite proving my strength. Seems the hierarchy is a little patriarchal, isn’t it?”

“Why is it you think you’re stronger than me?” Mikaun retorted. “Ahzef ranked you fifth because you have too much of a temper. Just look at me! Nice and cool.”

“You’re also a complete fool,” Herlit gritted.

A warm hand pressed against Aria’s back. A rune ingrained itself in her mind—a teleportation spell. It was basic magic, taught at the elementary levels of instruction, but this spell was loaded. Powerful mana poured into her veins like a river; she felt as weightless as a cloud. She recognized the mana; it was Lyra’s, but it felt different somehow. Her mana was warm, almost too warm, as it flowed into her own magic circuits, but it was also healing. The aches and pains left her body, her bruises healed—even her muscle cramps were gone.

She was impressed. Who was this girl? She understood the spell, but where had Lyra learned it? It was designed so that the caster could freely teleport any object that bore the rune; all the caster had to do was connect their mana to the object they wished to teleport. It was rarely used for human teleportation, though, requiring more mana than one person could even store. It was possible, in theory, but success stories were few and far between—most were written off as attention-seeking embellishments, lies, or just pure ignorance.

Aria’s eyes widened at the realization. “Lyra, you can’t!”

“I’ve already imprinted the rune in Brendan’s mind as well. I can pull this off.”

Mikaun and Herlit continued to argue over who was stronger though it seemed to have devolved into a contest of who was Ahzef’s favorite, instead: “Yeah, well, Ahzef told me I was doing a good job, picking up your pieces, dear brother.”

“Oh yeah? Why do I have a hard time believing that?” Mikaun questioned. “If I remember correctly, the last time he let you out into the field, you nearly gave our existence away to the humans.”

Aria turned to face Lyra who had fallen to her knees. Her face was pale, and her skin had turned clammy. A light grey streak raced down the side of her hair. The mana consumption for human teleportation was more than most could handle, but she’d, miraculously, managed to conjure the actual spell itself. Even if she was the Princess of Chiipha, using all of her mana at one time could have serious side effects; Mana Contraction Syndrome was just one of several, including death. Maybe she did have enough mana stored away to teleport a person, but to teleport herself and two other people was both unheard of and literally impossible; no one had ever held that much mana before. Was such a feat even possible? Still, despite the look of exhaustion on her face, her will was strong, and Aria could sense it, but that only left more questions than answers. What was she planning, and what hadn’t she told them?

“Lyra—”

“You can’t change my mind, Aria. Brendan already tried, and he ended up with my handprint on his cheek.”

“But how are you planning on getting out? You’re the Princess of Chiipha! It’s going to take both you and Lacia, you know!”

“I’ve already passed my duties on, after I’m gone. As soon as you regain your bearings once you land in Chronid, head to the northernmost point of the city. Use this mental picture I’m giving you.”

A new image flashed into Aria’s mind—a small out-of-the-way section of the city. Stone and plaster houses made up much of the residential areas, but their mini entertainment district seemed quite lively. Bright lights illuminated the dusky sky, rows of food stalls lined the streets in every direction, and a large outdoor theater was preparing for an evening show as pedestrians milled about the seating area.

“You’ll know where to go next when you get there.”

“Enough of this!” Herlit shouted. “What are we going to do with them?” she pointed towards the cell.

“Maybe if you’d get out of my face, we could figure something out!” Mikaun shouted, causing her to back off. “Now then, what say you, dear captives?” The devils turned their attention to the cell, but Aria and Brendan had vanished.

“Huh? Where did the other two go?!” the devils shouted in unison.

Lyra had stayed behind, teleporting Brendan and Aria herself. “Ahh… They never would have left if I didn’t force-teleport them.” Her voice was weak and tired.

She slumped against the wall, nestling her head in a mostly-dry corner of the cell where the iron bars and wall connected. Her skin was whiter than paper as she stretched her legs across the stoney floor, happy to have the cell to herself for the next few moments.

A small smile lined her lips. “I’ve done my part. Everything else is up to those two now…”

She wished she’d gotten the chance to spend more time with them, but she couldn’t complain. The little time they did spend together was exciting; it was better than the drab life she’d been living: a dusty, run-down apartment stuck in the middle of nowhere. Twiddling her thumbs wasn’t her thing, and sitting around, waiting for Lacia to show up, was frustratingly boring.

The only reason she found Mana and Brendan was because traces of Lacia’s own magic lingered on them. She was thrilled to meet them, of course, but what she’d wanted more than anything was to finally connect with someone else her age, someone who might understand what it was like to be everyone’s celebrity. Unfortunately, the stories she’d heard of Lacia were anything but reassuring. Not only did she not know she was Earth’s princess, she hadn’t even fully awakened her powers yet.

“There’s your answer, Brendan. That’s why I came to you, and that’s why you two have to be the ones to use the mana I gave you.” She took a breath and exhaled, smiling at the two devils. “Kinda ruined your plans, didn’t I? Too bad for all three of us, isn’t it? I get to die, but at least I’ve bought us some time. It really is too… bad…

Her eyes grew heavy as she allowed the last of her mana to escape her body. She could feel the final traces of life slip away as she slowly closed her eyes. Her chest rose with one final breath, eyes closing the rest of the way. She could feel her muscles relax as she forgot about her worries—the penultimate relief of death.

Mikaun fumbled with the cell door key, watching as her body went limp. “Crazy girl. She sent herself to an early grave. For what?” Tired of playing with the lock, he pulled the door from its hinges, finally entering the cell. “Just couldn’t wait to die, could you?”

“Why are you so relaxed about this? That was the Princess of Chiipha, and you just stood there like an idiot as she died,” Herlit exclaimed.

“I’ll chase the other two down,” he said calmly, kneeling in front of Lyra’s lifeless body. “I need you to report back to Ahzef, but if you think I’m happy about this, you’re mistaken.”

“Uh huh. But why me? Why don’t you go do it since you’ll be out anyways?” He shot Herlit a petrifying look. “Fine, but when he gets mad that the princesses slipped through our fingers again, don’t come crawling back to me.”

***

“How could she just—just end her own life like that?! Oh my god…” Aria was visibly shaken.

“Aria,” Brendan said, wrapping his arms around her, “there wasn’t anything else we could do. Lucifero is back and in as good of shape as ever, the same devil that nearly killed you and Lacia the first time around. Meanwhile, here we are, trying to figure out what the hell just happened when we need to keep moving. I don’t know what her plan was, but we can’t just put everything on hold because we don’t know.”

Pale moonlight transformed Aria’s skin into a pearly glow as she stood beneath the starry Chiipha sky. Brendan’s arms felt… comforting. This was the first time they’d been alone together in years. Her heart was pounding against her ribcage, trying to escape from its own metaphorical prison, and her mind was a jumble of messy feelings: love, anxiety, fear.

How long had it been since she stood on those train tracks, bathed in the orange sunset, trying to hide her tears from him? She’d relived some of the most tumultuous days of her life, knowing she’d have to face the reality that he’d moved on. She’d cut him off—no. She’d cut everyone off. He’d spent two years with Mana; she’d convinced herself he liked her and, if not Mana, then definitely Lacia. Hell, maybe he even had a thing for Lyra for all she knew. There was no room for her in his life anymore, and Lyra’s death made her realize her own humanity was just as volatile as the shifting sand beneath her feet—always changing, never static.

“Aria?” Brendan’s voice rang in her ears even as she tried to tune him out.

Here they were, alone in a strange, new world with no idea how to get back home, “If there’s even a home to return to,” she thought. She shuffled her feet, wishing she could feel the soothing touch of dewy grass on the soles of her feet. Instead, sand was all she got. It rushed over her feet, squeezing between her toes, trying to find a place it belonged to as well.

She recalled the image of Chronid Lyra had placed in her mind but, looking around, wherever they were now, it didn’t resemble the city at all—not even close. Sand dunes and rocky outcroppings spanned for miles as starlight illuminated the surprisingly verdant moss that hugged the bedrock, jutting through precarious spots in the sand. It added a touch of color to the otherwise predominately brown sandscape. The occasional spiny desert tree dotted the terrain, parched yet their bristles remained as green as the mossy bedrock—the only life in a void of dead nothingness.

“Where are we…?”

“Hey, heads up!”

Brendan tossed a large fruit of some kind into her hands—God knows where it came from or how he found it. He didn’t even know if it was safe to eat. At least he was thinking about her, but did he even care that they were in the middle of nowhere, stranded? She rapped her knuckles against the outer shell; it was tough to crack, but the inside was filled with an orangish, citrus flesh that dripped with juice. She never understood how anything grew in a desert, and the weird, sticky fruit only confused her further.

“How about we stop putting off what happened back at the Gila Bordergate? There’s no one around but you and me, and I know you’re just as anxious as I am to figure out what happened,” he said, lying back in the sand, arms folded under his head. He gazed up at the night sky. “We can’t run from this forever.”

“Brendan… I don’t know…” Aria’s voice was shaky. “We’re stuck in the middle of a desert in a world we know nothing about. We teleported somewhere we’ve never been, and it’s starting to get cold. Why now?”

“Because, we have to figure us out before we can figure anything else out. You were gone for two years, remember? We thought you were—”

“No, you’re right. As much as I hate feeling like I don’t even know myself, I feel like I know even less about you, Brendan. We never got to catch up… after the accident.”

She turned away, afraid to face the boy who’d given her so much hope. She knew this wasn’t the time to get emotional, but she couldn’t help it—life hadn’t exactly been the most exciting thing ever. Her heart was steeped in regret; there was no way around her own feelings. Still, she wasn’t sure if she was ready to chase the ghost of her past yet or not.

“You don’t have to blame yourself for what happened. The accident was just that, and there’s nothing that’s going to change what happened, but I swear to you I still—”

“Do you, Brendan? Do you really love me? How can you even begin to understand what I’ve been through?” She turned to face him, tears welling in her eyes. “I know you say it’s not my fault—everyone said that, but I haven’t even told you the whole story yet. No one knows what really happened.”

The air around them began to fill with static, discharging into small orbs of electricity. Sand glittered in the air like fireflies, attracted by the charge: fiery oranges, golden yellows, and even the occasional white that resembled snow. Were they standing in the middle of an electric field of some sort? The sand seemed to be gaining some kind of charge, but how? As they lost their charge, they filtered back to the ground, creating a luminescent floor of dying. While Earth had its own unique wonders, nothing could compare to the now-illuminated desert night.

What had been a dull bed of arid brown was now a sea of color, transformed into rolling waves of multi-colored hues. Every tiny grain of sand pulsed as if it were synced to some non-existent beat before it was picked up by the wind and transported across the desert floor. Each was given the chance to start over somewhere new, joining the billions of other grains already snug and waiting to welcome their new friends. The air hummed with energy and color as it was gradually deposited back into the mystifying dunes of the Chiipha desert.

Brendan sat up, awestruck by the falling sand. He opened his hands, allowing it to accumulate in his palms like snow. A light tingling sensation ran through his fingers like a cold wind mixed with electricity. Even suspended, the sand remained illuminated. It continued to fall until the desert was awash in color for as far as the eye could see. The hair on his arms stood on end, drawn by the invisible pull of the strange electronegativity. He ran his hands across his arms only for it to shoot back up like weeds in an unkept yard.

Brendan’s ears grew warm; faint whispers tickled their innermost point. “The girl is right, Brendan. You do not know the full story.” He bolted upright, startled. “If you cannot understand the girl you claim to love, your journey will end here.”

A veil of sand began to swirl around Aria, obscuring her from his view before evolving into ferocious sandstorm, its growth as rapid as wildfire. Electricity crackled like lightning somewhere overhead, spawned by the positive-negative charge of the sand and air. Sparks flashed all around him as the storm continued to devolve: visibility dropped to near zero, the wind battered his face, and static ran across his skin.

“Yeah, like you know what the hell she’s going through. This affects both of us,” he shouted into the tempest, “but just who or what are you? How do you know what I don’t?”

The whispers came again: “What she has told you is only half of the story. In order to receive the other half you do not know, you must be willing to understand the pain she carries and why.”

“I’ve been prepared to give my everything to be her everything since the beginning. Whatever blocks my path, whoever tries to stand in my way, I will not break my promise,” he emphasized, shielding his face from the stinging sand. “If my heart’s a mess, what is hers like?”

“Like a bird must first learn to fly before it can leave the nest, a heart must learn to love before it can be complete. If you are truly compelled to save that girl, then go. The fate of your journey to come hinges upon the success of your trial.”

A small window opened in the rush of sand. Aria had pulled her knees up to her chest, burying her face within them. She looked scared, and with nothing to protect her from the sandblast-like wind other than the hospital gown, she was dangerously vulnerable. Fresh tears dampened the sand at her feet—a mixture of too many emotions: sadness, loneliness, guilt, regret—

Brendan slogged his way through the fresh dunes as he called out, trying to get her attention, but his voice was swept up in the howls of the wind and skittering sand. He gritted his teeth, frustrated not just because he couldn’t reach her, but by his own inability to understand the girl he loved. If he was missing half of the story, he was missing half of her heart and, to that avail, her life.

“I can do better,” he thought. “Lyra sacrificed herself to save us, and all I could say was ‘there wasn’t anything else we could do.’”

The whispers had grown into a mature woman’s voice—a familiar one. “Brendan Greyriter: this will be your most harrowing trial yet. I pray that you find success.”

Sand continued to pile up as the storm grew increasingly ferocious, leaving Aria to fend for herself; it swirled around her, creating drifts higher than her head, threatening to crash over her like a wave. Her thoughts crept into Brendan’s mind: “I wish I could tell him the whole story… He says he loves me, but how can he love me when I haven’t even told him the worst part yet?”

He clenched his fists. “I’m going to fix this, Aria. I promise.” He wrapped his shirt around his mouth, trying not to inhale the blowing sand. “I’m angry at myself for not realizing how she felt all this time. She’s only been back for a short while, but the signs were there the whole time.” The wind forced him back as he led with his shoulder, trying to push through the storm—Aria was hidden in there somewhere, all alone. “Even at the hospital, she was hurting. And this weird storm… It almost feels like it’s responding to her emotions…”

He closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he stood at the turning point of her life: the night of the accident—the night when both of their lives would change forever.