Pet: Revelations - Chapter Eighteen (Patreon)

Iris

I am in constant awe these days. The room I’ve been staying in, the garden, this planet overall- all of it is so far beyond my imagination that I feel exhausted from having to take it all in. This moment is no different.

When Remus said he was going to show me this world, I didn’t know what to think he could be talking about. But now, as we fly over the palace that I’ve been staying in, I don’t have words for him or myself. All I can do is stare as we circle above.

The palace alone glitters in the early hours of the morning. The sun has yet to rise, but I can see signs of its streaks creeping across the sky in shades of orange. The palace is massive, the material either stone, marble, or alabaster. Either way, the smooth texture glistens as if freshly polished. Arches and columns stretch to the sky, the lights from within burning purple to remind me of Remus’s eyes.

The palace itself seems to be floating on nothing, if I can describe it that way. It is surrounded by a city that levels off, with six bridges stretching for miles in each direction. And at the end of each bridge, an arch taller than any building, that must be a mile long in width, sits. On its walls, emblems pulse a deep purple and blue, and beyond them are what look like very different locations.

I see now why, from my room and from every window until now, I’ve seen nothing but clouds. This place, wherever it is, sits alone with only nature surrounding it. And the palace is in the center. Beyond that, for miles, there are only clouds.

“What do you think? More beautiful than Xyrannis?” Remus asks.

His tone is amused as he watches me ogle his world.

“What is this place?” I murmur, placing my fingers against the glass.

“This is Eoua,” Remus says. “It is where I come from, originally.”

I slowly look away from the world below to Remus. His hands are steering the controls, and his attention is out the glass as he takes in his home. He has a small grin on his lips. This place makes sense for him. It complements every part of him.

“Eoua,” I murmur, repeating it. I look back to the world, placing my hands against the glass.

“What are those arches?” I ask.

“Hmm, pick one,” Remus says.

I scoff, looking at him, but he has a serious expression on his face, waiting for me to choose. So, I slowly turn back to the glass, my attention landing on the arch that has buildings that illuminate with purple lights beyond them.

“That one,” I say.

My stomach tilts as the ship dips, and Remus maneuvers us to the arch I picked. As we come closer to the ground, I notice that the bridges have symbols on them. They don’t look exactly like Remus’s, but they are similar as they pulse purple with energy the closer we approach. My eyes widen as we come close enough to the arch for me to see the statues on either side. I don’t recognize the faces, but they are magnificent, carved from the same stone as the arches, as whoever the likeness is stands, with symbols similar to Remus’s pulsing in their chest.

Our surroundings become the archway's interior, and Eoua is hidden from us. It takes us at least a minute to pass through, but I am fascinated by the gilded patterns etched into the walls. They are alive with energy, more intricate than anything I’ve ever seen, reminding me of electricity running through cables. And suddenly, we are through.

Remus tilts the ship upward, taking us back into the sky, and I am immediately taken by the streets. They are gilded in marble and what looks like gold. The buildings remind me of the European architecture from the history books. Except flowering trees from this world cover some, while patterns of purple that move within the buildings illuminate.

It’s as if this whole place is somehow connected.

My eyes widen when I see for the first time since arriving, Celestivine walking along the streets of the early morning. I laugh to myself in amazement. I’ve never seen any other Celestivine other than Remus’s family. There’s only a handful, some of which are clearly guards of this world, patrolling their streets—streets much different than Eoua.

“So…those are portals,” I say in fascination.

“In a way. Each leads to different regions of this world, but in the center, Eoua will always remain,” he says.

The ship tilts once more as he slowly angles us back in the direction of the arches. From this distance, I can see pieces of the palace glinting through the arches. Places like this only ever existed in movies I watched as a child. Even Xyrannis wasn’t so…ethereal. Maybe portions of Remus’s life within it were, but it wasn’t anything like this. It more so fit the Leviathan lifestyle. Being here and seeing everything up close makes it feel less like a home. It feels like I am an imposter among this world.

“You said Eoua is always at the center. Does that mean you alone rule this world?” I ask.

Remus is silent, thinking about his response.

“My family has been in charge of it for generations, yes. We are the only ones capable of…running it,” he says.

“Why is that?” I ask as we pass through the arch. The world darkens again as the celestial colors dance over Remus’s face.

“Nothing you need to concern yourself with,” he says.

“And why is that?” I ask. Remus senses the irritation in my tone, and he looks away from the glass, focusing on me for a moment. His eyes search mine, and I am shocked when I realize he is hesitating.

“It isn’t something you need to worry about. It is beyond you,” Remus says.

He studies my reaction, his confusion deepening.

“You’re upset,” he says.

“Of course I am. You made me believe that we were equals, and now all you do is tell me that I am so beneath you, I can’t even know certain things about your world. Or your past,” I say.

Remus laughs briefly, looking back to the glass as we pass through. But we don’t go in the direction of the palace. We continue past it, making our way through the clouds.

“I never said you were beneath me. I said it is beyond you. There is nothing you can do to change it, nothing you can do to interfere with it, and knowing won’t make you feel better. It won’t even help you have a better understanding. So why not enjoy that you do not know anything? Enjoy the beauty this world has to offer,” he says.

I feel my chest squeeze from his words. They sound so similar to how he spoke to me on Earth. He would constantly reprimand me for trying to fight him and outsmart him for my planet. He saw no point in it, the same way he does now.

“So you want me to live as your slave? Like I did on Earth?” I ask.

Remus releases a breath. “Of course not. I want you to stop asking questions that have no bearing on your life.”

“Who are you to determine what has bearing on my life—”

“You know exactly who I am.” The ship quakes, and I flinch as a wave of energy rushes through the cabin, cracking the windows. I can’t breathe as I am forced to examine the proximity that I am to this version of Remus—this terrifying being.

Remus’s eyes illuminate with his anger, his hair shifting as if there is wind. And as my body acknowledges that this being is not only human, but dangerous, a heavy wave of nausea hits. My hands fly over my mouth, and I try my best to hold it, but the terror is too much, and I suddenly vomit all over the interior of the ship.

The water is warm, but it does little to soothe me. My body still trembles from being in Remus’s presence, enduring his anger in such a way I never have before. I release a deep breath, bringing my knees to my chest to rest my cheek against them as I look out the glass next to the round tub that overlooks the sky.

At least now I know what is beyond.

I know that Remus wanted me to fall in love with this place as I did on Xyrannis. But my mind and body reject it for some reason. It is foreign to me in a way that makes me uncomfortable. Everything about it was made for god-like beings. And Remus has proven that by keeping me uninformed about everything.

Because it is beyond me.

I scoff. He is pushing me away. He is reverting me back to his plaything—his pet.

The door suddenly opens, and I don’t have to look to know it’s Remus. His footsteps are light as he approaches, kneeling next to the tub.

“How are you feeling?” he murmurs.

I respond by turning away from him, facing the glass. The clouds help calm me down as they gently billow past, but just being near him makes me tremble. He is not my Remus. My Remus is dead. This one, I am terrified of.

He releases a breath.

“Iris—” I flinch away from his touch as his skin comes in contact with mine.

“I’m sorry I lost control. I just need more time. I need you to understand,” he says.

I ignore him, and he lets the silence settle over us.

“Iris, don’t ice me out. You’re all I have. I don’t know what I will do if you ice me out. I don’t know that I can control myself,” he says.

I pull in an irritated breath, turning to face him, but my retort stops in my throat as I look into his eyes. He isn’t asking, nor is he begging. He’s threatening me. His eyes, though still purple, have shifted to a warmer purple that pulses slowly. My body recognizes the threat in him.

I don’t speak. I don’t think I can in this moment. All I can manage is a nod. Remus’s eyes follow the movement, and he stands.

“I will come back for you when it is time for you to eat, again,” he says.

He then turns away, leaving me alone. It isn’t until the door closes that my breath picks up, and I slowly hyperventilate as I come to the realization that this is who Remus is.

My Remus is dead.