Irrevocable

In the void, all Curuisarinaeth could do was remember.

There is no sight. There is no sound. No taste. No touch. No feel.

The emptiness was endless.

But, he remembered.

The workshop was bustling along with the artisan jeweler it hosted. Sari never bothered to track time here; it was an effort in futility. A fact made more true with the project held in his hands in that moment.

“Are you sure this is a good idea, Sari?”

Sari glanced up to see Ansel in the doorway. The fae had indigo skin with dappled markings, his dragonfly-esque wings folded neatly into almost a cape draped from his back as his hooved feet tapped against the workroom floor.

Smiling, Sari waved his friend over.

“Come in, come in!” Sari said. His smile was brighter than the jewels of his work littered around the workbench he was seated by. “And yes, why wouldn’t it be?”

Ansel walked in and leaned over Sari’s shoulder. “Well, you said it yourself; tampering with the soul is usually a bad idea.”

Sari shrugged. “Yes, but I figured it out. I’m not tampering with it. I’m just moving it. Into this!”

He smiled and held up the amulet medallion he just finished in his pale turquoise hands. The base was a flat ring of white gold, etched with runes of magic and engraved with intricate and interwoven designs so subtle, one may never notice them directly and only see how they made the metal shimmer as though distilled from stardust. However, it was well overshadowed by the stunning aquamarine star set within it. As large as a goose egg, it was faceted into the shape of a star, glittering cyan in color.

“Sari, are you sure about this?” Ansel’s forehead creased with concern.

“I am.” Sari set the amulet on the workbench and reached for a slim chain to thread through the pendant hook. “This could revolutionize the study of innate magic. By removing the soul from the physical needs of the body, it could, in theory, provide limitless power for any spell. No risk of becoming an animaexodus.”

“Aren’t those extremely rare anyway?”

Sari shrugged. “It can still happen, and there’s still plenty of mages who just die outright by casting too strong of a spell. Plus, I made it so that the soul returns to its body automatically when wearing the amulet, so it’s not like I’ll be without one. Think of it like a shed attached to a house; it’s there and fully present on the property, but it’s not sharing room and board with the rest of me.”

Ansel sighed, shaking his head. “I know I won’t talk you out of this.”

Sari grinned. “Nope!”

“Have you enchanted it yet?”

“Yes, just finished before you walked in.” Sari finished stringing the chain through the medallion’s hook, removing a couple links to get the length just right before donning it. A surge of energy rushed through him, and his ears rang. The world shook and blurred, fracturing into bands of cyan light as though he were seeing it in broken glass. Then, he was looking up at the ceiling.

The sight puzzled Sari. How was the wall now the ceiling?

Ansel stooped over him and Sari felt the floor against his splayed, pointed wings. It was cold, like the rest of the stone workshop hollowed into the cliffside.

“Are you alright?” Ansel asked, offering to help him up with an outstretched hand.

Sari took it and let him haul him back up to his hooves, tail swaying behind him.

“Yeah, just, what happened?”

“Well,” Ansel said, “the second you put it on you got a really glazed look on your face. Almost like you were half dead. Then you started glowing bright and all of that light went into your amulet and you collapsed.”

“How long was I out?”

“Only a couple minutes.”

Sari snapped his fingers, and smiled as he held a pool of light in his palm. A delighted smile emerged as he felt no drain from the spell.

“It worked?” Ansel asked, adjusting his round glasses.

“Of course it did,” Sari said, a smug grin on his face. “I can’t believe you doubted me.”

Ansel chuckled. “My mistake. Are you sure you feel alright?”

“Yep!” Sari snuffed out the light and touched his amulet with a smile. “I’ve made history.”

Sari stepped over some scattered toys as he entered his sister’s home. Screams of childhood joy and laughter could be heard nearby, and the smell of rich cooking wafted from the kitchen.

Tripping on a different toy, Sari flitted his wings and opted to hover over them instead as he made his way to see what smelled so good.

Sari landed once he was past the minefield of entertainment and looked in to see his sister standing at the counter, slicing a purple fruit that faded to pink on one end. It had speckles of gold, like a gleaming night sky, and shaped similarly to a pear with a scent of honey and cinnamon. It almost resembled the fae who was preparing it, as her hair hung down her back in waves of indigo and violet, shimmering with gold flecks. Her pale gold hands moved with precision as she finished slicing the fruit and started on another, her horns gleaming. Royal blue and gold wings matching the same starry shape as Sari’s were folded at her back, flowing behind her.

“Asteraa fruit?” Sari asked as he walked into the kitchen. “Must be a special occasion.”

The fae woman smiled and looked to him. “Welcome Sari, and yes, it is. Aethelas promised he’d come this time for our daughter’s ninth solstice.”

“That deadbeat,” Sari sighed, shaking his head as his tail flicked in irritation. “Where was he off to this time?”

Sari’s sister shrugged. “He didn’t say, only that he wished to wander east for a time. But he’ll be back. He always does return, you know.”

“And leaves you to care for Illmaria alone.”

“Not alone,” his sister said, glancing back to her work. “We have you, and Father, and our extended family. I did wish you stopped by more though.”

“Not your husband?”

“No, him too! Just—” His sister sighed. “Are you here to help cook or to lecture me?”

“No reason I can’t do both, Elnaieth.”

She rolled her eyes but let Sari stand beside her to work on preparing dinner with her. Sari stepped up to the counter and joined in the effort.

Sari rubbed his aching eyes as he fought off sleep at his workbench. A single lamp glittered above it, normally a help but was now aggravating his weary headache. Didn’t matter though. He had to get this done.

Shaking his head, Sari poured his focus back into his work.

“Curuisarinaeth! Just the son I was looking for.”

Sari groaned and wished he could bury his head into his desk. Of course he’d show up now.

“Hi Dad.”

The clop of hooves into the room only worsened Sari’s dread. He wasn’t leaving.

“Now what have you been up to?” The purple-hued fae looked around with desire in his glance at all of the things Sari had made or was in the process of making.

“Just a hair clip,” Sari said, giving up on working for the moment. No sense in irritating his father into staying longer. “Illmaria was pretty disappointed that Aeth didn’t show up, so, making her a gift.”

“For free?”

“She’s a little kid, Dad, and my niece. What’s it matter?”

Sari’s father tsked and shook his head, placing a hand on his son’s shoulder.

“Only parents should benefit from such gifts, as we earned them by raising the children. At least Elnaieth should have offered some compensation.”

“I already send you money every moon, Father. Isn’t that enough for owed?”

“That’s different.”

“Right…” Edric said. “Can I get back to work now, please?”

“So rude,” his father sighed, “but very well. Oh, and before I go, nearly forgot why I was looking for you.” He handed Sari a folded paper. “I want you to make this for me.”

Sari took it and opened it, suppressing another sigh at the poorly doodled intricate design and details. Deciphering that would take time.

“A bracelet?”

“A cuff,” his father corrected, though the two were nearly the same thing. “And I want it enchanted as well.”

“You sure? This will take me ages, it won’t be cheap.”

“It’s a good thing we’re family then, so you can cover that cost for me.”

Of course.

Sari sighed. “Yeah… sure Dad.”

His father smiled and sauntered out of the workshop. “You’re the best, Son!”

Setting aside the hair clip, as he’d just finished it, Sari picked up a drawing pad and resigned himself to a longer night as he sketched a cleaner design of the scribbles his father had put to paper.

“He really has no boundaries,” Ansel commented, looking at the schematic Sari’s father left while Sari worked with the design he’d made from it.

“Oh, he has boundaries,” Sari said. “He just doesn’t respect anyone else’s.”

Dark circles hung under Sari’s glittering aquamarine eyes as he continued to etch precise woven patterns into the obsidian cuff. Rims of silver were beside him, ready to add once the etching was done.

“Why do you let him order you around like that?” Ansel asked, putting the paper on the table beside Sari.

“It’s not worth the fight,” Sari said.

“How bad of a fight are we talking?”

Sari rubbed his eyes. “He can go on for hours and not let me breathe a word. He just talks over me. But he’s the queen’s advisor. Can’t exactly cut him out of my life when I work for her too. Besides, he loves to brag about me and I like the status I have.”

“Just don’t let it go to your head,” Ansel said, chuckling.

Sari shot him a grin. “No promises.”

Ansel gave his friend a playful shove to the shoulder, no real force was behind it.

Sari laughed, then sighed, leaning back and rubbing his eyes. “Ugh, this is taking ages though.”

“Why not use magic to speed up the process?”

“Because it’s less special.” Sari sat up, turning to look at Ansel. “I never use magic to make these, save for creating materials in a pinch. Time and skill have more of a payoff.”

“You look exhausted though, Sari,” Ansel said, worry in his eyes.

“I am,” Sari said, “but I’m nearly done. Just another hour to finish the etching, then add the silver and spell, and I can sleep.”

“Why not save it for tomorrow?”

“He wants it for some social thing tonight and already told everyone.”

Ansel shook his head. “Sometimes your dad is just….”

Sari’s smile was tired, crooked, but amused. “A pain in the tail?”

“And other places.”

Sari laughed quietly and went back to work. “Agreed.”

When did it go so wrong?

Sari backed away from his workbench as lava burst in through the rock wall of the mountainside, flooding into the room in molten gushes.

His weary brain took a moment to process how his spell malfunctioned. No shutoff. Idiot mistake. And with his soul fueling the spell endlessly…

Hoofsteps echoed behind him as Ansel ran into the room.

“I heard- SARI!” Ansel’s face hung agape, terror in his green eyes.

“Back up, get out!” Sari ordered, shoving his friend back through the door, but turned back into the room when he slammed it shut.

All that work.

All that effort.

He couldn’t let it be destroyed.

“Sari are you insane?! Get out of there!” Ansel had thrown the door back open.

Sari didn’t listen, using a spell to try and summon as much of his work as he could. Pendants, bracelets, cut gems yet to be mounted; all flew toward his outstretched hand as the lava advanced. The room was lit with a fell orange light, a burning hellfire of sweltering heat.

“Sari, look out!”

Blistering pain coated Sari’s hoof, blinding and agonizing. Looking down, crying out, he saw the lava had pooled around it, burning away much of the fur on his lower half as he stood there. His jewels slipped from his hands. It was hard to breathe. Yanking free of the molten rock and using his wings to create more distance even as they blistered and formed holes, Sari fled the room. Ansel slammed the door behind him, but it was already smoldering as lava pooled beneath it. A rumble shook the ground, causing Ansel to stumble before he too chose to hover, his dragonfly-like wings buzzing.

“What was that?” he asked.

Sari felt a knot in his stomach, eyes still watering from the pain of his charred hoof. “A mistake- we need to get out of here, it’s going to blow in minutes.”

Watching his friend’s eyes go wide behind his glasses, Sari grabbed his wrist and dragged him along as his own wings struggled to keep him airborne. His leg… he wanted to cut it off, to get rid of the pain. A severed limb sounded more pleasant than this misery. His wings faltered, and he sprawled on the floor of the hallway, orange light advancing as the ground shook again.

“Sari!” Ansel flew back to him, landing beside his friend and helping him up.

A scream of pain left Sari before he could stop it, spots flashing in his eyes as his burned hoof gave out, and he clung to Ansel as his fried wings trembled. “I can’t- I can’t—”

“You can,” said the shorter fae, dragging his friend along despite being many inches shorter. “We’re almost to the door. Once we’re outside, we’re home free, right?”

Sari grit his teeth and nodded, tears on his face that he barely remembered shedding.

“Then we’ll make it.” Ansel wrapped one of Sari’s arms over his shoulder and dragged him as the hellish glow loomed closer behind them. Gaining on them. The ground shook and pitched them both to the floor, but Ansel got up and got Sari up and kept going. Another shake. The door was in reach. The shaking didn’t stop.

“We’re too late,” Sari whispered as cracks formed along the walls, filled with malicious light.

“Almost there—” Ansel said, trying to help Sari get to the door, it was so close. But he’d never make it if he waited for his wounded friend.

There was no time left.

Sari, using the last of his will and magic, threw a telekinetic wave of force at Ansel to throw him through the door as the world exploded around him. There was a single snap as he felt something break around his neck, but there was no time to register it. His lungs burned and scalded before he could even scream. He heard Ansel cry out but his eyes were seared and he saw nothing. For a moment, all he could feel was burning agony on every surface of his body.

Then nothing.

Just the void he now existed in.

Though, without sight, touch, or any senses, did he exist at all?

Was he real?

Was this story only the imaginings of something that never existed?

No. His memories were real.

Was this death?

An eternity passed as he began to accept it.

No.

He breathed in a gasp of air and backed into the wall as his vision returned, along with every other sense.

“Elnaieth? Are you okay?”

Sari glanced at the speaker. He knew him. His sister’s husband. Aeth. His face was creased with concern, and his hands were outstretched to Sari in offer of loving embrace.

Pulling away, Sari looked around.

“How did I get here- my voice—”

That was his sister’s voice.

“Elna?”

“I’m not Elle- what’s going on?” Sari backed away, feeling wrong. Every feature of his body was wrong. He was too short, his hands too small. His hands….

Why weren’t they turquoise? Why were they pale gold?

Indigo hair fell across Sari’s face as he looked down. It was long, wavy, and flecked with gold as he ran his hand through the locks.

“Elna, what are you talking about?” Aeth asked. “What do you mean you’re not you- Elna!”

Sari ran to find a mirror. Yanking one out of his sister’s vanity, he looked at his reflection, and the mirror slipped from numb fingers.

He didn’t hear the glass shatter. He was too focused on the dozen reflections of his sister looking back at him from the floor. His reflection.

His brother-in-law tried to wrap him in a hug, but Sari pulled away.

“Elna…” He looked hurt.

“I’m not Elna!” The panic in Sari’s voice rang in his ears. Not his ears. His sister’s ears.

“Then who are you?”

Sari looked down at the broken mirror. He saw his amulet around his sister’s neck.

Cold slime coated his stomach- her stomach as he understood. He fell to his knees and lifted the amulet into his sight.

“Ansel gave you that, to remember him by,” Aeth said when Sari touched it.

“Is he alright?”

“Your brother?”

“No, is Ansel okay?”

“Elna, we just visited him.”

“Is Ansel alright?!”

Aeth hesitated. “He’ll recover, just, not fully. His wings burned when he tried to go back for your brother, and his leg… you said you’d never forget the sight as you wept on my shoulder ten minutes ago. Why don’t you remember?”

Sari felt tears in his eyes. “It’s all my fault…”

“How could it be your fault, you weren’t there, love. Elna, I don’t know what’s going on but—”

“He should have let me burn,” Sari interrupted in his sister’s voice before a sob left him.

Silence grew, and he felt Aeth pull away.

“I don’t understand.”

Sari felt another sob hit him, and he shook his head. His sister’s head. He squeezed his amulet, his soul, his prison, in his hand. Devastated.

“What have I done?”