I should be frightened. And I am. But I am also curious.

“Show me,” I say, wiping the last of my tears away.

The water shifts, and my reflection is replaced by a different image. A large dungeon filled with shiny gold coins. And even if I know it’s a trap, my hand moves without the rest of me, toward the image. If I can get one of these… I can wake him up.

“Careful.”

I straighten, taking a step back from the font. Ignis lingers by the door, having shed his cloak and armor for something more mundane and approachable.

“Why is this here?” I ask.

Ignis motions me away from the water, clearly not trusting me with such little distance put between the pool and I. I’m not sure if I trust myself either.

I follow him back the way I came, down the labyrinth of corridors, through the vast halls. His eyes linger on the woman in the fountain, more out of habit than anything, and I am sure that this is her. The Creator.

“Votum and I were brothers once.”

If I didn’t have anyone’s attention before, I certainly do now. I feel their eyes like daggers in my back as I walk alongside Ignis.

“Once upon a time we were very close. He used to look up to me, because I was the big brother, the first.”

“What changed?” I mumble. We veer off from the courtyard, toward a palace conservatory. The unearthly plants grow at odd angles, and move as Ignis moves, opening towards him like he is their sun.

“Jealousy,” he says softly. The greenhouse is shielded by purple glass, one that makes the reddish hue outside look almost blue. Ignis kneels down to a strange-looking white flower with sharp petals, glides a finger beneath them. The flower seems to dance beneath his touch.

“What else?” He muses, moving onto the next flower. “I think, deep down, all my brother wanted was to be loved the same way. I tried to show him that he was. That I loved him just as much, but Alma’s love for me was different. And he knew that.”

“Alma?”

"That was her name, for her short time on Earth. That is what I called her.”

Ignis smiles faintly, rises to his feet. I tail him around the garden, running my hand along black climbing vines.

“She tried not to pick favorites, but it was obvious how, while she loved all of us, that love was not always distributed equally.”

“You were her favorite, right?”

The first Element tucks a lock of jeweled hair behind his ear, revealing the golden tail of a rune I do not recognize, one that glimmers in the light, almost as though it has been freshly branded and set in liquid gold. But his skin is not scarred, nor raised or red. It has been with him for a long time. I am inclined to ask about it but I hold my tongue.

“There was something she loved even more.”

A butterfly soars through the air, lands on Ignis’ outstretched finger. It looks like a monarch, if monarch’s had the ability to glow.

“Mankind,” I whisper beneath my breath. “Is that why he hates us so much?”

Ignis takes a seat under a willow tree, leans back against the bark with his eyes closed briefly, soaking in the calming quiet. He looks perfectly mortal like this, peaceful.

“I’m sure you will come to find–if you have not already–that many of my siblings share a distaste for humans.”

I think of Laverna, of Manon, of even Ezra and their unwillingness to show emotion. But then I look at Ignis, at the warmth in his eyes.

"But you don’t,” I murmur. “Why?”

He pats the grass beside him. I lower myself to his level and sit, folding my knees to my chest.

“With every new soul I meet, I understand more and more of why She loves you all so unconditionally. And it is the same reason why many dislike your kind.”

“Why?”

“Because, Aiden, in your twenty two short years of life, you have lived and loved more than many of us ever will. You’ve been stamped with an expiration date and it makes you live that much harder for it.”

Ignis combs his fingers through the grass, raking his knuckles against the dark, spongy dirt.

“Votum dislikes humans because Alma loved them more. Loved them so much that she became one of them, became flesh and blood.”

“I thought she did that because of her love for you,” I say, leaning back against my hands. Ignis shakes his head, crystals catching in the light.

“No, though I’m sure that was a perk,” he jokes. His eyes cast downwards.

“Votum had a part to play in Alma’s death. He convinced Athariel to do it, not that it took much convincing in the first place.”

“But you still love him. Why?”

“I do love him. But that doesn’t mean I don’t loathe him for all he has done, which is why I cannot be the one to kill him. It must be done with an unbiased hand, for rebirth, not out of hatred. Because Alma still loves him, just as much as before.”

“But he deserves punishment,” I sputter. “He deserves a fate worse than just death.”

“Maybe. But not by my hand. Not by yours either.”

“Then who?”

“By the very same power that will never give it.”

“Because She loves him too much.”

I close my eyes for just a moment, feel the warmth around me, easing the chill in my bones. Maybe another time soon I will come back here to this place and feel at peace.

“If you are telling me this to dissuade me from rescuing Alex then you should know that it won’t work. I’m going to save him.”

“And I am counting on it.”

My eyes flutter open.

“I am telling you this so that you know that there’s still a chance to do both. Save him and the others.”

“How, then?” I ask. “How do I do it?”

“If I knew how then no soul would be trapped there. I can assure you of that.”

“Then how do you know it’s possible?” I ask through a frown.

“Because you will make it possible.”

I rise to my feet, run a hand along the drooping leaves of a low hanging branch. It shifts beneath my touch, stretching toward me.

“What’s with the water here?”

"Living water,” Ignis says. “Every one of those ponds contain memories, slivers of life. It’s different for everyone.”

“What’s the point?”

“Sometimes we must reach into the past to understand where we are going. Many of the souls that abide here find comfort in them.”

I stare at the clear red water, then at the trees around me, the odd plants and insects and creatures. It’s all new, but feels so familiar to me.

“I am going to the shadow world to rescue Alex,” I say suddenly. “Are you going to stop me?”

“You know of the risks?” Ignis asks the willow tree.

“Yes.”

“Then no, of course not. You have a choice, Aiden. You have always had a choice.”

“I am going to return, though, one day.”

Ignis smiles, a brilliant smile that overshadows his sorrow.

“I am counting on that, too.”

The butterfly from earlier comes back around, flutters once around Ignis before landing on the back of my hand. This one is not afraid of me. This one I do not crush.

“My brother is tricky,” he says. “He will do anything he can to keep you there, in Caligo–his world. You must fight him. Be strong.”

“I know.”

“But remember what I told you. True power is not taken by force, but awarded through mercy.”

The butterfly takes flight and I watch as it glides through the air, bright wings shimmering with light. I don’t understand what he means. I think a part of me does not want to.

How do I show mercy in a world that shows none? To a person that shows none?

I am going to kill Lysander. I am going to kill Votum. Their deaths will be mercy enough.

“Goodbye Ignis.”

I leave him beneath the willow tree, walking quickly back to the courtyard. He stays true to his word, and does nothing to stop me. No guards come to take me away. No passerby’s prevent me from returning to the keep.

I still pause briefly by the inlet, and again by the fountain. I stretch my hand out to cup Alma’s stone face. She is beautiful, a beauty second only to my mother–though I might be biased. Even in this sculpture I can see the love in her eyes, the laughter in her lips.

“Watch over them for me. Take care of my friends,” I tell her, like the statue could hear me. And then I am gone, down the halls, mapping my way back to the strange black room.

I see no treasure reflected back in the pool, just me. I hear nothing but the steady beat of my heart. I reach a finger out to the black water, sending ripples scattered along the surface.

“I’m coming Alex,” I whisper. “Hold on just a little longer.”

The water is warm against my hands, a second skin pressed against my own. I am not afraid, not anymore. I climb up on the lip of the font, balancing on black stone. With a breath, I lean forward, toward the space between our worlds.

And I fall through.

***