a/n – This song is primarily written to when the party’s over by Billie Eilish
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Aiasthlyn
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I do not remember the journey to the black castle, only that sense and duty take me there, and perhaps, terror too.
Another mistake, already made. This should be my last destination, not the first.
I should be at the portal, returning home to gather the legions that would flood this realm and eliminate all remnants of a magic we already thought destroyed.
If there were remnants, if it was here. There was a possibility that I was wrong, but I already knew that I was not.
History’s atrocities lived in this realm, and it needed to be purged.
My Sael trembles at my fingertips.
I should be at the portal.
The thought repeats itself in my mind like a sand writhe’s chant, hoping to sway, but my steps do not once falter, because Ythene had not given my realm this Charge— she had given it to me. For some unfathomable reason, she had chosen me to be the one to uncover remnants of a magic that should have long been eradicated, and it could be because she knew when this moment came, I would hesitate as I do now.
That I would be selfish.
They are together when I find them, and that is no surprise, nor are the smiles on their faces, the light in their eyes. It comes as a sudden realisation that they have looked at each other just like this since they met, only before worry from both sides had filtered their interactions. That fear is gone now, replaced by trust, understanding, and the beginning shoots of love soon to be in full bloom.
Kalem sits in Lincoln’s lap, nuzzled close with a book held between them both. Lincoln reads, and Kalem follows along with each word before making the attempt himself. Each word he recites deepens the frown wedged between his brows, but it is a result of his unshakable concentration.
One might grow frustrated with themself, shamed by their shortcomings, but not Kalem. He is nothing but gleeful to be learning to read, and no matter how slow or hard the process proves, it does nothing to deter him.
It helps that Lincoln is patient with him, gentle in a way the aged creature only is with Kalem— in the way that would disappear in a heartbeat if he were aware of the danger standing outside his castle walls.
I stare up at it, looking at them through a lens that filters out the layers of brick that keep them from seeing me. I watch them closely, not daring to risk even a blink should I miss a moment, and any excuse to leave as I take another step forward.
Kalem shifts, almost imperceptibly, but he does move before the faint traces of golden light that had first directed me to him, first surrounded Lincoln when he found him, return before me.
The light had risen with each step I’d taken towards them, growing brighter and more insistent. Ythene’s guiding hand urging me to turn around. Maybe. Likely. Not likely at all.
I can not decide— have not been able to with the labyrinth my mind has become since I encountered the corner of the Earth where vampires had been made from elven magic.
I can only keep pulling at the thread, keep unravelling the truth with hopes that it will soon make sense, but it has not so far, and I know it will not even when I am standing over him with my Sael slicing through his neck. But I keep pulling anyway.
I take another step, and am in the middle of watching the golden specs cascade around me when I feel his presence. It is painfully known to me— a swell of benevolence that gathers behind me— one that I would recognise from a world away.
“What are you doing?”
Somehow, he knows what this is. It is not surprising, but that does not make it any less chilling.
“Aias,” Malcolm whispers as he risks a careful step closer. He makes it, slowly, barely letting his feet touch the ground, as if he knows the wrong move would free my Sael and see itself into his chest.
Before, I did not think just that would be enough to kill him. Now, I was not so sure.
“Aias,” he tries again, a hushed plea that is much like the warning he’d given me once before when I had moved towards his friend as I did now, only this one is spoken aloud and with far more desperation.
I wonder, did Lincoln know the truth of the beast that had shackled himself to serve at his feet, or how lucky he was to have him? If he did, perhaps that was why he had left him with me.
When Malcolm steps in front of me, it is because I let him, because I do not want to fight either, no more than I want to enter this castle and shed blood I was sworn to protect.
Grey eyes find mine, and for the first time since I had left his side this morning, my chest fills, my heart beats rather than pounds, and I remember how to breathe. He is a calm, a single raft within a storm that had not stopped trying to drown me since I found the answers I had been searching for since Ythene let me see her face.
“You can not do this.”
He looks scared. It is not a sight I like to see, but not one I can absolve right now, when I am almost certain he already knows.
Malcolm knew too much. About me, about his surroundings, and he likely knew far more than I ever gave him credit for, and I always gave him credit. So was it so hard to imagine that he knew that the magic he was made from was not of this world, but mine?
When I pushed my mind past the point of reason, it was not.
“I can not let you do this,” he repeats, lips trembling.
I stare at him, sparing a moment to decipher if this terror is for Lincoln, or his happiness. It takes only a moment to figure it out.
He thinks I am here for Lincoln. I thought for a moment that he knew that I was here for them both, for his closest friend and mine, but this he apparently does not know.
My Charge had never once been clear, only a set of images and the face of the First vampire, before I knew his name to be Lincoln.
I do not know why I never considered that I might have to kill him. Before Kalem, before the slaves. It simply never entered my mind, and now that I peer at just that, I can not fathom why.
Why had I never thought, even once, that Ythene might want me to kill Lincoln and all the other vampires made from our magic? And why had I never tried?
I had wanted to kill him, multiple times, from the moment I first saw him, in fact, but each time I did, that light would return. It dazzled in front of me the same way it had when I first arrived in this world, a guiding hand that had led me upon my mission.
Ythene had never appeared to me so before in my own realm, but as it was unnatural to this one, and familiar enough by some archaic measure, I had assumed it was hers. An assumption I now examined with vicious intent. Doing so caused questions to arise. Many, many questions.
Was it she who had guided me into the hands of slavers to be tortured? Was it she who had set me on an impossible path, and reared her head each time I thought to veer off it? She who would not let me harm Lincoln? She who gathered around a quiet, lone human surviving in a place that was made for death?
It was not lost on me that Ythene only seemed to guide me when one of the two who sat reading in the library above was part of the equation.
“Aias?”
My mind churns, the agony almost unbearable as I stare at the worst part of this, at Malcolm. Because if I were right, if the vampires had been made from the darkest of elven magic, if it was that magic that had been veering me from my proper course, then they would have to die. All of them. He—
I squeeze my eyes shut.
It was better to think it was Ythene’s hand trying to keep me from making a terrible mistake. Better to believe that while these creatures were some deformed echo of her power, she did not want me to harm them, but to save them.
‘Bring them home’, she had said.
But then, where did that leave Kalem? What was he in all of this? A simple human who had been caught in the fray? I could no longer believe the slim likelihood of that any more than I could believe I could ever harm Malcolm.
My eyes open, only to flit between the boy I had come to love through cold bars, and the man that appeared before me, a cruelly perfect manifestation of all the things I had never allowed myself to want.
One of them sat dangerously close to the perimeters of my Charge— one of them I would not be allowed to let live, and I paled to think that I did not know which I wanted it to be.
Even in this, I am selfish.
“I was just checking on him,” I whisper, almost mutely, as I feel my shoulder drop, my tone as plain as my spirit. “There are many unknown dangers present.”
Malcolm frowns before me, confusion twisting his features, but more than anything else, concern sends him into a visible frenzy. He breaks from his space to step into mine despite the danger to him. He either does not remember it or does not care to fear for himself as he takes my hands in his and brings himself as close to me as he can manage.
Relief barrages into me, his touch lightening the weight of my crown. He offers me more of it as he clasps my hands to his chest.
“What can I do?” He asks anxiously, rubbing my palms as if he means to warm them. “I do not know what’s going on. I do not know what is wrong, but I want to help.” His eyes dart between mine, riddled with terror and care. “I want to help you.”
Malcolm was a cruel type of sweet, and I was a shameful kind of greedy, because every time he offered a piece of himself to me like this, I forgot all sense of duty to pursue his fleeting comfort.
“Let us go home,” he begs quietly as if he believes his home is mine. I believe he does. My heart careens. “Aias, I… I think today has been a lot for you, with the—” he glances at my neck and then back to me, “—let me take you home.”
I had never been unmindful, never one to shy away from duty. Never. Not until I came to this world and met him.
I nod, and with a touch so gentle it pacifies, Malcolm turns me and begins walking us back to his home, one of my hands still clenched within both of his.
I do not use my magic, and he does not use his speed. It is almost like the night we met, except there is no cage, no collar, and no hatred in my heart. Other things linger there, but not hatred. Not for him.
“How did you survive this world?”
The question tumbles from my lips before I even know I mean to ask it.
Malcolm stiffens beside me, the hand he has kept in mine tightening a measure before he forces it to relax. “I do not know,” he eventually whispers. “Much like everyone else, I suppose.”
I shake my head. “You are not like everyone else.”
Malcolm’s skin warms as he takes his eyes off of me for the first time since finding me, suddenly bashful. I peer at him, wondering how the fearsome vampire who had just faced me for his friend lived in the same body as the soft, wanting pet who was steadily chaining my soul to his.
“I do not know,” he repeats, and I think he will leave it at that, but then he says, “It takes a lot— this world.” His eyes find mind again, and they carry an omen. “It is important not to let it take everything.”
“Is that a warning?”
He nods, “I do not want it to take you.”
I hear the words he does not say, and look away. I do not want it to take you from me.
“Will you tell me what happened just now?” He asks when we are a little further. “What happened today?”
“No,” I reply, and he tenses beside me, but leaves his disappointment there.
“Will you tell me if you are alright?” He tries instead. “Or what you need?”
No, I am not alright, Malcolm. I am almost certain elven magic is in your veins and rampant in this realm. That it lives in Lincoln, in you, and that I may be the one meant to eradicate it, but I do not know if I can because… it is in you, and what I need… is you.
“No.”
Malcolm glances at me then, the worry making a speedy return. I can almost hear his whine as he peers at me and fails to see what he yearns to within my mind. He has more questions. He is confused and terrified, and knowing I am the source of that is wounding, but I can not rectify it any more than he can my calling. So we continue on, almost reaching his home, the one I refuse to leave, when he speaks again.
“Will you at least let me stay with you tonight?” He begs, turning to face me so that I am forced to meet his sweet gaze. “We do not have to do anything. I do not want to do anything. I want to make sure you are not alone. I want… I just want to be with you.”
Perhaps it was him.
Perhaps, it was Malcolm who held the elven magic that had been channelled into this realm by hands that had not known what power they held and spread it like wildfire.
Perhaps, more of it had settled within him than the others, and he was the one who had guided me to Kalem, to Lincoln, to himself.
Or perhaps, it was my most fictitious thoughts—and Ythene herself had guided me to him.
“Okay,” I reply, on a quiet sigh. “Okay, pisen.”
I should not call him that. I should not think of him like that, but I also should not be allowing him to take me away from my duty, and yet I am too tired to care.
What is one night of prolonging the inevitable when it was forever promised to come?
He takes me to his room, not mine, and helps me under covers that smell of him. I let him, not bothering with posturing because I find that I do not mind the feel of his gentle, coarse fingers sliding over my skin.
He lies beside me, wrapping himself around me as if he means to protect me from the entire world, both his and mine. I smile indulgently at such a thought, knowing in my heart that he just might.
“Rest, Aias,” he whispers while his fingers card through my hair, coaxing the tension from my spent body. “I will watch over you.”
Something in my chest unclasps, breaking from the rest of my fractured self and into his awaiting grasp. It is wrong and dangerous, but it is also freeing in ways I could never permit as Aiasthlyn… but as Aias…
“Rest… please.”
Selfishly… I do.
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Okay, so usually my heart is always breaking for Malcolm, but this time whewwwww someone save Aias bro
Thoughts??????
This was a heavy chapter, or set of chapters. Like the realisation Aias makes quite early on about the elven magic on Earth, and it being tied to the vampires. This sense of Aias vs Aiasthlyn, and duty. It’s a whole lot on his shoulders and even though he says he never breaks, I feel like he did in the end, but ‘Aias’ did, if that makes sense?
I’m just so fucking happy he has Malcolm, like I think my man would’ve genuinely gone insane by now or in that chapter at least if it was not for Malcolm.
Like he is going throughhhhh it
The fact he really pulled up on Kalem and Lincoln and they will never know that is crazyyyyyyyyy. This is another reason why I am loving this book and taking my time with their story because it is so much deeper than we ever knew in Master
Ah enough rambling from me, what are you thinking? What are your thoughts??? Did it make sense or am I crazy and this is proof of it lmfaooo
I hope it did and you guys enjoyed, because the next Aiasthlyn update will be next month – don’t stone me – but with this double update, that’s 4 updates that came this month!
But that’s all for now on the Aiasthlyn front! Remember to comment and vote!
Until next time,
Byeeeeeeeee humanssssssssss

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