Chapter 168: Song and Spots - Leah
The twins stand on the tower.
The wind is strong. It's blowing from Side B, carrying city exhaust and salt from the distant ocean. Ophelia's golden hair flies like a little flag. Adrian's silver-black short hair sticks to his scalp, showing his whole forehead.
They're holding hands. Facing the door.
The dark silver giant door hangs in the sky, about three hundred meters across—smaller than before. After drifting away and getting pulled back, it lost some energy. Black spots are squirming on the door's surface, like a skin disease, like parasites.
About twenty spots. Different sizes. The biggest one is palm-sized. The smallest is like a grain of rice. They're not still. They squirm. Like breathing. Like the rising belly of some sleeping creature.
"Starting," Adrian says.
He opens his mouth and starts singing.
Not a lullaby. Not a battle song. Something... new. I've never heard this tune before.
Notes flow from his throat, but they're not human sound waves. They're energy waves. Golden ones. Coming from his chest, spreading like ripples. Each ripple touches the air and leaves... a trail of light. Like contrails from a plane. Like scratches from a meteor.
Ophelia joins in.
Her voice is different. Higher. Clearer. Like bells. Like crystal. Like icicles on a winter morning shattering in the sunlight.
The two voices weave together. Gold and silver. Male and female. Yang and yin. They form... patterns in the air. Not random ones. Geometric shapes. Like math. Like magic. Like... both.
Hexagons. Pentagrams. Spirals. Fractals.
The patterns float toward the door. Touch the spots.
The spots... shiver. Not pulling back. Something more complicated... a reaction. Like tasting unexpected food. Like being fed... an unfamiliar flavor. Like a hungry beast tasting... sweetness for the first time.
"It's... fighting back," Ophelia says. Her voice doesn't stop. "Need... more."
"More what?" I shout. The wind tears my voice away.
"Memory," Adrian says. "Our... memory. From birth until now. All of it. Give it to the spots. Let them... know... what being full... feels like."
I freeze.
Give the spots... memory? The twins' entire memory from birth until now? That means... they'll forget. Forget who I am. Forget who Kael is. Forget... everything.
"No!" I rush over. "Stop!"
Kael grabs me. His fingers clamp around my wrist, painfully tight.
"Leah..." he says. "Let them... choose."
"They'll forget us!"
"Maybe," he says. His voice sounds like it's coming from far away. "But they'll... save us. And... the world."
I look at the twins.
They keep singing. Their voices getting higher. The energy getting stronger. The golden patterns getting denser. Like a net. Like a blanket. Covering the door. Covering the spots.
The spots... melt. Not being wiped away. Something gentler... acceptance. Like cold hands being held. Like a hungry stomach being filled. Like... a lonely shadow being lit up.
The palm-sized spots shrink to coin size. Coins shrink to rice grains. Rice grains... disappear.
One. Two. Five. Ten.
The twins' voices get weaker. Not from being tired. But from... emptiness. Their memories are draining away. Through the song. Sent to the spots. Like water pouring from a cracked bottle.
Adrian turns to look at me. In his ice-blue vertical pupils... something... fades. Like photos left in the sun. Like colors being bleached out.
"Mom..." he says. His voice shakes. "You... who are you?"
I freeze.
"I'm... Mom," I say. Tears pour out, sliding down to my chin, dripping onto the tower stones. "Leah. Your... Mom."
"Leah..." he repeats. Like tasting an unfamiliar word. His brow furrows, trying hard to remember. "I... remember... cake. Chocolate. Candles. But... I don't remember... your face."
Ophelia turns too. In her golden vertical pupils... emptiness. Like two dried-up wells.
"Dad..." She looks at Kael. "You... who are you?"
Kael walks over. Kneels down. Hugs them both. His dark red wings fold around them like a blanket.
"I'm... Dad," he says. His voice sounds like sandpaper scraping stone. "Kael."
"I... don't remember," Ophelia says. Her little hand slides off Kael's shoulder, hanging at her side. "But... you're warm. Very... safe. So... you must be... a good person."
The last spot disappears.
The door is restored. Dark silver. Clean. No spots. The surface has a golden trace left on it—like a signature. Like the twins'... kiss to the door.
The twins' song stops.
They collapse in Kael's arms. Fall into a deep sleep. Their breathing is steady. But... shallow. Like ordinary children. Like human children. No more golden healing light. No more ice-blue door-repair energy.
Just... asleep.
"What... happened to them?" I rush over. My knees slam onto the stone.
"Asleep," Kael says. His arms tighten, holding both children against his chest. "Memory... reorganizing. Like a computer... reformatting... then reinstalling."
"Will they... recover?" I ask. My fingers are trembling as I touch Ophelia's cheek. Warm. Normal. "Their memory?"
"Maybe," Kael says. "Maybe not. But they'll... live. As... ordinary children. No... abilities. No... burden. Just... children."
I look at them. In Kael's arms. Small. Fragile. Breathing. Living.
But forgetting. Who I am.
I pick up Ophelia. Light as a feather. Kael picks up Adrian. We walk down from the tower. Back to the room. Put them on the bed. Cover them with a blanket.
I sit by the bed. Holding Ophelia's hand. Waiting for her to wake up. Waiting for her to call me. Or... waiting for her not to call me.
Because she doesn't... know who I am anymore.
Kael sits on the other side. Holding Adrian's hand. We look at each other. Don't speak. Because... what is there to say?
Our children... saved the world. But forgot... us. Is this... the hero's... price? Or... the parents'... price?
I don't know.
But I know. I'll... wait. Start from scratch. Teach them. Who I am. Who Kael is. What the world... is.
Like... three thousand years ago. When Kael... taught his first... Bloodbond partner. The same.
Patience. And love. That's enough.
Night deepens. Side B's moon is white. It shines through the window onto the twins' faces. Their sleeping faces are peaceful. Like any ordinary children.
Ophelia moves. Her lips murmur. Some... sleep talk.
"Mom..." she says.
I freeze.
She remembers?
But then...
"Cake..." she says. "Chocolate..."
Then she turns over. Keeps sleeping.
Not calling me. Just... dreaming about cake.
Kael smiles. That smile... is bitter. But very... tender.
"She remembers cake," he says.
"But not... who made the cake," I say.
"It's enough," he says. "Cake is... sweet. That's enough."
I lean on his shoulder.
We watch the children.
Outside. The door rotates quietly in the sky. No spots. But a... new... trace remains. Golden. Woven with silver... like... the twins'... signature. Forever. Carved on... the door. And on... our... hearts.
Even if... they... forget. We... don't forget. That's enough.
But right then—
Adrian reaches out in his sleep.
His little hand grasping at the air.
Catches an... invisible thread.
Then...
He smiles.
That smile... isn't an infant's. It's something... knowing.
"Dad..." he says in his dream. "Behind the door... someone... is waiting for us..."
"Not the Forge..."
"It's..."
"A new... friend..."
Kael freezes.
He looks out the window. At the door. His Gatekeeper perception spreads out. He feels... something. From the other side of the door. From Side A's direction.
Some... fluctuation.
Not the Forge's. Not White Box's. Not anything we... know.
It's... new.
Completely... new.
"What is it?" I ask quietly.
Kael shakes his head.
"Don't know," he says. "But..."
"It's... coming."
"Very slowly."
"But..."
"For sure."
"From Side A..."
"Through the door..."
"To Side B."
"It wants to..."
"See us."
"Or..."
"See the twins."
The room goes quiet.
The twins are sleeping. Breathing steadily.
But the door...
Trembles slightly.
Like a heartbeat.
Like...
Anticipation.
A new friend?
Or...
A new enemy?
I don't know.
But I know.
Tomorrow.
What we'll face.
Not just...
Children who forgot.
But also...
An unknown...
Visitor.