Twilight of the Gods
Chapter 27: A Perplexing Soul Bond

The red line led Haydn around the palace in circles. At first, he assumed it was because Evelyn was moving around. He imagined her in a frenzy, pacing around and waiting for him. But after his fourth rotation and seeing the same set of columns again, he suspected foul play.

“This line is an illusion,” he said. “Either my soulmate is walking around in circles or she never entered Otherworld in the first place.”

“Your soul bond is real,” Odi hissed. “My payment for your services is no illusion. I wouldn’t cheat you, even if you were my former Chosen One.”

He slithers up Haydn’s arm, bringing his fangs closer to his neck. Haydn did his best not to tense up, to show that Odi didn’t scare him.

“I mean no insult,” he said, hearing the venom dripping from his fangs. “I’m grateful for your gift. The ache that I feel in the absence of Evelyn is driving me mad. Forgive me for losing faith.”

Odi continues to hover over his neck for a minute, the edge of his mouth scraping Haydn’s skin. His pulse quickens, his heart thudding against his chest.

“I understand your pain,” Odi said, retreating down his arm. Haydn relaxes unconsciously. “You’ve waited so long and committed so many crimes. But you must be patient. You were made for each other, born to live your small eternities together. She is only a few seconds away.”

Haydn suppresses the urge to yank Odi off his arm. He had been nothing but patient ever since coming to Otherworld. He had sat through Nyx’s ridiculous games, playing the role of the perfect pawn to lead Daeva here. He even did the bidding of his former master Odi, a God he had thought was long lost to the sands of time, to get to her. He was the very embodiment of patience, but he wasn’t stupid. Something was afoot.

He continues to follow the line, the path suddenly changing. The red string brought him up a set of steps, leading into the dining room. Just as he crosses the threshold into the room, a bell tolls in the distance, signaling Nyx’s return.

The red line flickers, disappearing and reappearing so quickly that Haydn thought it was a trick of the light. But Odi’s grip on his arm tightened, a sure sign that something was wrong.

“A dark presence has entered the palace,” Odi hissed. “Their magic is … familiar. I have not felt it in this universe for some time.”

“That’s Nyx, the Lady of the Night,” he said. “Maybe you met her when you took a different form in your years of wandering.”

But Odi’s words troubled him. Haydn had his own theories about what Nyx was. She was neither God nor Elysian, but she held a level of control over both groups that suggested that she was more powerful than both of them combined. He thought that she was a crafty sorceress, a mortal that gathered enough power to transcend her physical state. But if she had existed during Odi’s early days, then she was more dangerous than he could ever imagine.

As the Elysians entered the room, Haydn saw the red line spin frantically around the center of the room. It created a scarlet whirlpool, the thread twisting into a wild funnel that Nyx emerged from. She smiles at the room, her mouth curving into an impossibly wide crescent. It reminded Haydn of how inhuman she was, that her true nature was that of a monster. She gathers the red thread in her hands, wearing his soul bond like a bracelet.

Immediately, Haydn feels his blood boil. How dare she ruin his plans! He wanted to walk up to her and slap the threads out of her hands. Before he could seriously consider the impulse, Daeva entered the room.

She looked tired, exhausted to the bone. That was the first thing Haydn noticed about his fellow God. The dark bags under her eyes seemed to make her whole face sag. She seemed as if she were carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders.

Pity blossoms in his chest. We can’t keep playing this game, he thought. It’s draining her.

Perhaps that had been the purpose of Nyx’s game all along. Maybe this was just a means for her to siphon the God’s powers.

He glared at the Lady of the Night. Was all of this truly just to fuel her greed? He dismissed the idea. If it were Ezra running the game, that theory would have made perfect sense. Yet Nyx was a creature driven by more than power. Manipulating him and running the game was part of a bigger plan.

But at the moment, he didn’t care about her motives. His eyes were fixed on her hands, rapidly spinning the red thread around her wrist. He might’ve been imagining things, but it was like she was trying to prevent the red line from replaceing its rightful person.

“You Gods never cease to amaze me,” Nyx said, interrupting his thoughts. Her dark eyes flutter over their forms, sensing the completion of their individual rounds. “You finished your tasks so quickly that I almost can’t tell who is more worthy of the Board.”

Haydn rolled his eyes, glaring at the Lady of the Night. “Well, it’s certainly not you, you greedy bitch,” he muttered. “Or is lying cheater more accurate?”

Nyx stayed silent, but her eyes burned with hatred. Daeva looked at him, confused. He realized that while Nyx heard his message loud and clear, Daeva probably didn’t understand a thing. Poor girl. They were all just chess pieces in Nyx’s wicked game.

She summons the Board, pretending to ignore Haydn’s words. “Step forward and place your hands here.”

He hangs back, gauging her reaction. If he refused to participate, there would be no game. The Board would automatically go to Daeva, which was what Nyx wanted anyway.

But what if he actually put effort into the game? What if he was the one that emerged victorious? All of her perfectly crafted plans would fall apart. He imagines her face twisted in despair. For some reason, the vision fills him with glee.

So he stepped forward, placing his hand on the Board. The wood heats up beneath his palm, nearly burning him. He makes eye contact with Nyx and spots the mischievous glint in her eyes. Of course, that was intentional. The Lady of the Night always delivered the consequences of his disrespect, no matter how small the gesture.

It was one of the things he hated most about her.

The slip of paper appeared beneath his hand, sticking to his skin. He unrolls the task, eyes registering the words.

Find Evelyn’s new name.

He frowned. Was she sending him on another wild goose chase? Knowing how she worked, she might as well have been. Every single hint she gave him about Evelyn was hopelessly vague.

But what made things more infuriating was that she was the one who held his soul bond in her hands. He could see her tearing at the thread and trying to break the red line. As everyone else filed out of the room, he walked up to her, steam practically coming out of his ears.

“What are you doing?” His voice comes out angrier than intended and he cringes slightly. If he was going to successfully negotiate with her, he needed to seem poised.

Nyx goes still, the string pulled taunt between her hands. She looks at him, realization dawning in her eyes. He could see the soul bond just as clearly as she could.

She lets go of the string, letting it unfurl from her palms. It whips out of the room, following Evelyn like a red dart. Haydn moves to follow the string, but Nyx grabs his arms, stopping him.

“Let go of me,” he growled, trying to yank his hand away.

“You’re mad at me,” she said, finally releasing him.

“You don’t want me to replace Evelyn. Of course, I’m mad at you.”

“I never said that. And have you forgotten that I cannot break our contract? My promise to you was written in blood, just as yours was to me. We couldn’t betray each other even if we wanted to.”

He shakes his head. “How have you honored any part of your promise? I’m no closer to replaceing Evelyn than when I started my search.”

“I’d say that the odds are significantly better. You were going to use your soul bond to replace her just now, right?” She points to the red line leading out of the room. “It’s not going to work how you think it will.”

“Lies,” he said without thinking.

“You’re smarter than this,” Nyx insisted. “Think back to every hint I’ve given you so far. What have you learned about Evelyn? How has she changed? If you follow that line out the door now, you won’t see her.”

She’s bluffing, he thought. But a few things gave him pause. The first was the sincerity with which she said her words. She didn’t sound like she was lying, but she didn’t sound like she was trying to manipulate him either. Sure, there were clearly things she knew that he didn’t, but he had a feeling that everything she said was true.

The second thing was the hints he received for every round so far. In the first round, Nyx announced that Evelyn was here. In hindsight, it hadn’t been terribly helpful, but it did force him to stay in Otherworld.

The hint he received in the next round was devastating. Knowing that she had been in Ezra’s hands crushed him. He knew what Ezra did to his women, having seen the crimes with his own eyes. He still felt Evelyn’s hair ribbon in his breast pocket, warm against his chest. He hated feeling helpless and despised himself for not being able to rescue her. Yet that hint hadn’t been the lead he thought it was. None of Ezra’s worshippers looked like his Evelyn.

The third round of the game was interesting because he had to share a quest with Daeva. He bore witness to more of the Elysians’ crimes, watching the meticulous ways Sabine controlled her servants. But no matter how hard he looked among her dead-eyed worshippers, Evelyn wasn’t there. He could only conclude that Ezra got bored of her and gave her away to Sabine, who must have found some use for her besides being a glorified handmaiden.

He scoured every corner of the palace for her, knowing full well that she probably didn’t remember him after the fourth round of the game. Ezra’s girls slowly lost their memory in service to him and Sabine’s servants had no free will. If Evelyn was alive, he’d be lucky that she wasn’t comatose.

Then, there was the most recent hint Nyx bestowed. Evelyn had a new name, something else that would get in the way of replaceing her. Contrary to what the average non-magic user would believe, names weren’t just a series of syllables one would use to identify those closest to them. Names were identities, the magic behind the essence of who an individual was. If Evelyn’s name had changed, then so had her very essence.

As much as he hated to admit it, Nyx was right. If he followed that soul bond throughout the palace, he truly would’ve never found her. Once someone changed their essence, their soul was warped in a similar way.

The very concept of his Evelyn was dead. This realization was accompanied by a sinking feeling in his chest. Her body may be intact, preserved under a different name, but he could not say the same for her mind and soul. Whoever she was, wherever she was, she was no longer his Evelyn.

The woman he loved and the woman who loved him back didn’t exist anymore. How could she, after he had hurt her?

“Will knowing her new name reveal her to me?” He asked this quietly, almost afraid of the answer that would come out of Nyx’s lips.

“Yes,” said the Lady of the Night. “Once you know it, you can follow the soul bond to her. But be warned: you may not like what you see.” With that, she vanished, fading into the darkness.

He stood in the silence, ruminating on his discoveries. He starts to weave a glamour, painting an illusion on the dining room floor. He conjures a forking path, one side where he continued his search for Evelyn and one side where he finally gave up. At the intersection of those bleak paths stood Evelyn, who smiled at him warmly.

“Haydn,” she said, her sweet voice echoing through the hall. Somehow, even after all these years, he still had a perfect memory of what she sounded like. But the illusion he created wasn’t perfect. With every iteration, she grew blurrier in his mind.

“Evelyn,” he said, smiling at his pseudo-soulmate. “Did you have a good day today?”

“As good as it could’ve been without you,” she said, her eyes growing sad. “Why don’t you visit me more often?”

Because I just found out that you’re as good as dead. Everything I’ve done to get you back has been for nothing.

But he doesn’t tell her that. Instead, he asks “do you love me?”

“You know the answer to that question. Of course, I love you.” She touches his arm. “Is something wrong?”

His eyes sting with unshed tears. “I miss you.” He unravels the illusion, watching Evelyn fall apart before his eyes.

“Don’t leave,” she pleaded, crumbling to dust.

He sinks to his knees. He didn’t know how much longer he could do this, pining for someone who no longer existed.

“You’re not giving up,” Odi said, slithering up his arm. “You’ve come too far to back out. You will see her, whether she remembers you or not.”

But it hurts, he thought. I’ve been in pain for so many years. And yet Odi was right. He couldn’t physically give up. He had long lost the ability eons ago when he had crossed lines no decent person should. Even so, he couldn’t deny that he couldn’t do this for much longer. If he didn’t give up, his body eventually would.

He slips on his invisible glamour and marches toward Ezra’s room. The Elysian was asleep by the time he snuck in through the window disguised as a beetle. He crawls over to his books, skimming through the magic spells and complicated resurrection rituals.

But there was one book that stood out from the rest, bound by a heavy lock and a complicated system of interlocking metal pieces. Odi inspected it, pulling it apart with ease.

“A man shouldn’t guard his secrets with a simple binding spell,” he hissed, opening the cover.

At first, there didn’t seem to be anything of note on the pages. It was just columns of girls’ names, the kind that a mother would keep for naming her future children. But Haydn soon realized that they were the original names of Ezra’s worshippers. He quickly picked up that Ezra had trapped their true essence within the paper and replaced them with names he made up, names that gave him power over them.

The question was, which one was Evelyn’s new name?

He flips through the book frantically, not caring if he woke Ezra up. If that greedy bastard had a problem with him, he’d be happy to sort it out with his fists.

But then, at the right corner of one of the pages, he spots it. Written in the tight scrawl of Ezra’s handwriting, was Evelyn’s new name.

It can’t be, he thought. That’s not her new name.

“How interesting,” Odi said. “I suppose what Nyx said did make sense after all. What will you do now?”

He looks at the page, still unable to believe his eyes. He yanks off his glamour, moving toward Ezra’s secret compartment. He gingerly takes out the box, pulling out Evelyn’s handkerchief.

You won’t keep any part of her. Not anymore, not ever again.