Chapter 63 Back to Where It All Began
“We’re close,” Yeseus said, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through the worn seats.
The trees, once a familiar canopy, began to change. The air grew damp, carrying the metallic tang of ancient earth and something else, something sharp and wild that prickled Klishei’s nose. A primal scent, an echo of power.
“Dirhana,” Klishei whispered, the name feeling heavy on her tongue. Yeseus’s birthplace. The heart of the Alpha’s territory.
He nodded, a grim set to his jaw.
“A barrier,” Yeseus explained, his eyes scanning the shimmering air. “One of the oldest. It masks our presence, deflects unwelcome attention.”
He got out, his movements fluid despite the palpable tension. Klishei followed, her legs feeling strangely heavy as she stepped onto the damp, moss-covered ground. The silence here was profound, broken only by the distant, rhythmic drip of water and the rustle of unseen creatures. Above them, the barrier pulsed, a faint blue light tracing invisible patterns against the darkening sky.
Yeseus placed a hand on the shimmering wall. His fingers, usually so strong, trembled. He closed his eyes, a low growl rumbling in his chest. The barrier responded, its hum deepening, then parting like a curtain drawn aside. He motioned for Klishei to step through.
The moment she crossed the threshold, a strange sensation washed over her. It was as if a heavy cloak had settled onto her shoulders, muffling the world beyond. The distant city sounds, the subtle hum of cosmic energy she had grown accustomed to, vanished. Only the immediate environment, the ancient forest, remained, its details sharper, its scents more potent.
“What was that?” Klishei asked, her voice sounding oddly muted.
Yeseus stepped through, the barrier sealing instantly behind him, its hum fading to a barely perceptible thrum.
“A protective veil,” he answered, his gaze sweeping over the towering trees. “It dampens your aura, shields you from their senses. And it prevents you from perceiving anything beyond its boundaries.”
Klishei frowned. “You mean, I won’t be able to feel if Jaden or his… cosmic knights are out there?”
He met her gaze, his blue eyes holding a deep, unsettling sadness.
“You won’t feel anything, Klishei. That is the point. Here, within Dirhana’s embrace, you are safe. Untraceable. They cannot enter. Not while this barrier holds.”
He led her deeper into the forest, the canopy so thick that only slivers of sunlight pierced through, dappling the mossy ground. The trees here were immense, their roots snaking across the forest floor like petrified serpents. The air smelled of decay and damp earth, but also of something rich, fertile, like freshly tilled soil.
They walked for what felt like hours, the silence pressing in. Klishei tried to reach out with her Phoenix senses, to feel the pulse of cosmic energy she knew was out there, but the veil Yeseus spoke of was absolute. It was a strange, disorienting blindness.
Finally, the trees parted, revealing a hidden valley. A vast, sprawling structure, built from the same ancient, gnarled wood as the surrounding forest, rose from the earth. It wasn’t a single building, but a collection of interconnected dwellings, their roofs thatched with thick, dark leaves, their walls carved with intricate, swirling patterns that seemed to shift and writhe in the dim light. It was organic, almost alive, a part of the forest itself.
“Dirhana,” Yeseus announced, his voice tinged with a complex mix of reverence and melancholy. “My birthplace. The ancestral home of the Alphas.”
Klishei’s eyes widened. No medieval stone like the sanctuary, no modern glass like Spasio. This was something else entirely. Ancient. Powerful.
“It’s… beautiful,” she murmured, a strange awe settling over her.
He led her towards the largest structure, a grand hall with a massive, arched doorway. The wood felt smooth, warm beneath her fingertips. Inside, the air was cool, smelling of old wood and something faintly metallic, like rain on stone. The hall was cavernous, illuminated by glowing moss that clung to the walls, casting a soft, emerald light.
“We’ll stay here,” Yeseus said, his voice echoing in the vast space. “Temporarily. Until the Cosmic Council gives up their chase.”
He gestured to a smaller, more intimate room off the main hall. It was simple, furnished with a low bed covered in furs, a carved wooden table, and a small, unlit hearth.
“This was my chamber,” he explained, his gaze distant, lost in memory. “Before… before the massacre.”
Klishei’s heart ached for him. This place, so steeped in his past, must hold so much pain. She wanted to ask about it, about the women he killed, about his mother and sister, but the words caught in her throat.
“How long do you think we’ll need to stay?” she asked instead, her voice soft.
He turned, his eyes meeting hers, a flicker of something unreadable in their depths.
“As long as it takes. Days. Weeks. Perhaps months.”
He walked to the hearth, his fingers tracing the cold stones.
Klishei stared at him. She had noticed. Yeseus was back to the place where it all began. Of course the place was suffocating for him. But for her safety, he chose to revisit a past that the world had already forgotten.
“Yeseus,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “You don’t have to torture yourself with this place. We can find another way. We can fight them. Together.”
He shook his head, a wry smile touching his lips.
“There is no other way, Klishei. Not for now. This is the safest place. For you. And for me it is a necessary evil.”
He walked towards her, his hand reaching out, gently cupping her cheek. His touch was cool, almost ethereal.
“I know what I’m doing. I always have. Protecting you— it’s a purpose. A good purpose. And for that, I will endure anything, even my nightmares.”
Klishei leaned into his touch, her eyes brimming. The guilt, the love, the terrifying responsibility—it all swirled within her, a tempest of emotions.
“But… you look so tired,” she said, her voice barely audible.
He chuckled, a dry, rustling sound.
“Immortality is exhausting, little Phoenix. Especially when you’re fighting for the living.”
He pulled her into a soft embrace, his arms wrapping around her, holding her close. She felt the steady beat of his heart against her ear, a fragile rhythm in the ancient, silent hall.
“Rest, Klishei,” he murmured, his lips brushing her hair. “You’ve been through enough. Here, you are safe.”
She clung to him, the conflicting emotions warring within her. Safe. But at what cost?
The days that followed blurred into a strange, timeless rhythm within Dirhana’s protective embrace. Klishei explored the ancient dwellings, marveling at the intricate carvings, the seamless integration of wood and stone. The glowing moss provided a constant, soft light, and the air, though always cool and damp, held an invigorating quality.
He spent hours maintaining the barrier, his body taut with effort, his face sometimes pale and drawn. Klishei watched him, her heart aching. She saw the blight’s insidious work, the way his movements would sometimes falter, the subtle tremor in his hands when he thought she wasn’t looking.
Klishei could only provide one thing. For him, she was willing to tire herself out.