THE VOID BEAST

CHAPTER 2: THE TWO SOULS

---

The shattered glass sparkled on the floor like scattered stars.

I stared at the broken mirror frame, my reflection gone but burned into my mind—that sharp, unfamiliar face. Dark hair. Storm-colored eyes. A bruise purpling one cheek. Not me. Not Alex.

I couldn't breathe.

Slowly, I reached down. My fingers closed around a shard of broken glass. The edges bit into my palm, but I barely felt it.

I lifted the shard and looked at myself again.

The boy still stared back at me.

Same dark hair. Same storm-colored eyes. Same bruise. Same fresh cuts on his wrists.

"Who are you?" I whispered.

The reflection didn't answer.

Then the pain hit.

It started behind my eyes—a dull throb that exploded into something blinding. I dropped the glass shard, my hands flying to my head as images flooded my mind. Too many. Too fast. Overlapping and merging until I couldn't tell where Alex ended and someone else began.

A woman's face. Kind. Worn. Eyes that held too much sadness.

"Don't let them break you, my little star."

A garden. Laughter. Running through flowers.

Then darkness. A cold room. A door slamming.

"You're a stain on this house."

A hand shoving me down stairs. Blood on my lip. Laughter echoing.

"Bastard. Worthless. You'll never be one of us."

A girl's face. Pretty. Cruel.

"You think I'd ever want a bastard like you?"

Cold water. Filling my lungs. Darkness pulling me under. Peace.

Then light.

"No!" I screamed. "No, no, no—"

But the memories kept coming. Darian's memories. His pain. His loneliness. His desperate and aching desire to be seen.

And Alex's memories too. My mother's death. My father's indifference. Lukas's cruelty. Elena's betrayal.

I couldn't tell which memories were mine anymore.

I couldn't tell who I was.

My legs gave out. I hit the floor hard, the impact jarring through my bones. The room swam around me, the edges going dark.

Then nothing.

---

I woke to the sound of soft breathing.

My eyes opened. The ceiling was unfamiliar—dark wood beams, a chandelier I'd never seen before. The room was luxurious, nothing like my cramped apartment back home.

I tried to sit up. My body felt heavy. Wrong.

Then I saw her.

The woman from before. The maid. She was asleep in a chair beside my bed, her head lolled to the side, her hands folded in her lap. Her face was lined with exhaustion. Even in sleep, she looked worried.

Mira, a voice whispered in my mind. Her name is Mira. She was my mother's friend.

My mother's friend.

Darian's mother.

I closed my eyes and tried to sort through the chaos in my head. Two sets of memories. Two lives. Two identities.

"Alex," I whispered. "My name is Alex. I was murdered. I died. And then—"

And then I woke up here.

In this body. This unfamiliar, hated body.

"Has my soul really..." I couldn't finish the sentence. It sounded insane. Impossible.

But I could feel it. The weight of two souls in one body. Darian's presence in the back of my mind, quiet but there.

I'm here, he seemed to say. I'm still here.

I opened my eyes again and looked around the room. Everything felt familiar and foreign at the same time. The desk in the corner—I knew it was Darian's. The books on the floor—I knew he'd thrown them in frustration.

And the letter on the desk. I knew what it said before I even read it.

I can't do this anymore.

"Damn it, Darian," I whispered. "You were just a kid."

I know, the presence seemed to say. I'm sorry.

"Don't apologize. Just... just stay with me. I need to figure this out."

I moved slowly, careful not to wake Mira. My body ached—not just from the memories, but from the bruises. Darian's body was broken in ways that had nothing to do with the suicide attempt.

I touched the bruise on my cheek. It throbbed under my fingers.

Sebastian, Darian's memory supplied. He did it last week. Pushed me down the stairs. Said I should learn my place.

My jaw tightened.

I stood up, my legs shaky, and walked to the desk. I touched the surface, feeling the grain of the wood. Familiar. Like I'd done it a thousand times.

I touched Darian's clothes. Fine fabric. Expensive. But worn, like he didn't care about them anymore.

I touched the letter again. The paper was soft from being read too many times.

And then I understood.

I was Darian Vex. The hated son of House Vex. The bastard. The worthless one.

The one everyone wanted to see fail.

"Great," I muttered. "Just great."

A soft groan came from the chair. Mira was stirring.

I quickly put the letter back on the desk and returned to the bed, climbing under the covers just as her eyes fluttered open.

"Young master!" She scrambled to her feet, her eyes wide with concern. "You're awake! How are you feeling? Does anything hurt? Should I call for a healer?"

"I'm fine," I said. My voice came out hoarse. Weak.

Mira rushed to my side and pressed a hand to my forehead. "Your fever has broken. Thank the stars. I was so worried. When I found you at the lake, I thought—" Her voice cracked. "I thought I'd lost you too."

The lake. The drowning.

She found me, Darian's memory supplied. Pulled me out. Saved my life.

"You saved me," I said.

Mira's eyes glistened. "I couldn't let you die, young master. Your mother... she would never forgive me if I let you die."

A strange warmth spread through my chest. Not my emotion—Darian's. Gratitude. Love.

She's the only one who ever cared, Darian whispered.

"Thank you," I said quietly.

Mira sniffled and wiped her eyes. "You need rest. It's late. I'll leave you to sleep, but if you need anything—"

I nodded. "I'll call for you."

She tucked me in—actually tucked me in, pulling the covers up to my chin like I was a child—and left the room, the door clicking softly behind her.

I waited until her footsteps faded.

Then I threw off the covers and stood up.

"I can't stay here," I said aloud. "This isn't my world. This isn't my life. I need to find a way back."

But even as I said it, I felt Darian's presence stir.

Where would you go?, he seemed to ask. This is my home. Your home now too.

"No. This isn't—" I stopped.

The memories were flooding back again. Not overwhelming this time, just... there. A constant hum in the back of my mind.

Darian's mother. Her laugh. Her warmth.

Then her death. The cold silence. The way his father looked at him afterward. Like he was a stranger.

She was poisoned, Darian's memory supplied. They said it was an accident. But I know Father did it. He wanted her gone. He didn't want a bastard heir.

The rage hit me like a wave. Not mine—Darian's. Years of grief and fury, finally allowed to surface.

"He killed her," I said. "Your father killed your mother."

Yes.

"And no one did anything?"

No one cared. She was a maid. She had no beast. She was nothing.

I clenched my fists.

"That's going to change," I said. "I don't know how yet. But that's going to change."

The presence in my mind was quiet. But I could feel it—hopeful. Hesitant. Almost grateful.

I walked to the window and looked out at the night. The city stretched before me—spires and towers, bridges and canals, all bathed in silver moonlight.

The Apex Spire loomed in the distance, a fortress of stone and magic.

Apex Spire wasn't where beasts were made — it was where you were shaped into someone worth having one. Reading. Writing. The histories of the noble houses. After awakening all of that would stop mattering, and only the Awakening would.

In two days was the Awakening.

In two days, I'd bond with a beast—or fail and prove everyone right.

"Don't worry," I said to Darian. "We're going to get through this. We're going to survive. And then we're going to figure out how to get me home."

But even as I said it, I wondered if home was still somewhere I wanted to go.

Alex's world had nothing for me. No family that cared. No friends. Just a lifetime of loneliness and a brother who killed me.

This world... it was cruel. Brutal. Unfair.

But it was also alive. Full of beasts and magic and danger.

And maybe, just maybe, that was better than nothing at all.

I turned away from the window and climbed back into bed. Sleep didn't come easily, but eventually, exhaustion won.

---

Morning came too fast.

I woke to sunlight streaming through the curtains and the distant sound of voices. For a moment, I forgot where I was. Then I looked at my hands—too pale, too thin—and remembered.

I was Darian Vex. And in tomorrow was the Awakening.

I dressed on instinct, reaching for clothes I didn't remember choosing. Fine fabric. A dark coat with silver trim. It felt wrong on my body, but Darian's muscle memory made it feel right.

I walked down the stairs, my footsteps echoing through the grand hallway. The house was huge—a mansion that could have fit my old apartment a hundred times over.

And it was filled with people who hated me.

I found the dining room. The table was long, covered in food I'd never seen before. At the head sat a man with eyes like ice—Lord Valerius Vex. Darian's father.

Sebastian was there, a smirk on his face. Seraphina sat beside him, her gaze dripping with contempt.

"Sit," Lord Valerius said, not looking at me.

I sat at the far end of the table, as far from them as possible.

"I heard you tried to drown yourself," Lord Valerius said flatly. "Because of a girl."

I said nothing.

"How pathetic. How utterly pathetic. You're a Vex. You don't kill yourself over a woman. You don't kill yourself at all. If you're going to die, you die fighting."

Like my mother?, I wanted to say. Did she die fighting?

But I kept my mouth shut.

"And then you had the audacity to blame Seraphina," Lord Valerius continued. "You tried to frame her. Make her look like the villain."

"I didn't—"

"Silence." His voice cracked like a whip. "I don't care if you did it or not. You embarrassed this family. You made us look weak. And the next time you do something so foolish, I will kill you myself."

My hands curled into fists under the table. But I kept my face still.

"Understood," I said through gritted teeth.

Lord Valerius waved his hand. "You're dismissed. Eat in your room. You're not welcome at this table."

I stood up, my chair scraping against the floor. I could feel their eyes on me as I walked away—Sebastian's smug grin, Seraphina's cold gaze, Lord Valerius's dismissive contempt.

I didn't look back.

---

I ate quickly, barely tasting the food. I didn't have an appetite.

But I forced myself to eat anyway. I needed strength. In tomorrow was the Awakening.

I made my way to the Academy on instinct. Darian's memories guided me—the path through the city, the gates of the Apex Spire, the hallways filled with students who parted like I was diseased.

"Is that him?"

"The bastard who tried to kill himself?"

"He blamed his sister. Can you believe it?"

"Pathetic. Even for a Vex."

I kept my head down and walked.

My classroom was on the third floor. I climbed the stairs, ignoring the whispers that followed me.

And then I saw it.

My desk was destroyed.

Splintered wood lay scattered across the floor. My books were torn, their pages ripped and scattered. Trash covered my seat—old food, dirt, something that smelled like rotten eggs.

The other students were already there, watching me. Waiting.

"Look who finally showed up," one of them said. "The bastard thinks he can just walk in like nothing happened?"

"After what he did to Seraphina?" another spat. "He should be ashamed to show his face."

They crowded around me, their faces twisted with hatred.

"How dare you show up here," a girl hissed. "How dare you show your face after what you did."

"I didn't—"

"You don't deserve to be here," she cut me off. "You don't deserve anything. Do you know what happens in two days? We all turn seventeen. We all choose our beasts. And you—"

She laughed. It was cruel and sharp.

"I wonder what lovely beast will choose you, bastard. A rat? A worm? Or maybe nothing at all."

The other students laughed with her.

I said nothing. I just stood there, surrounded by their hatred, and thought: All of this has nothing to do with me. I'm not Darian. I'm just trying to get back to my world.

But I couldn't say that.

So I swallowed the words and said nothing.

The teacher entered, and the crowd scattered. The bully girl shot me one last dirty look before taking her seat.

"Class, pay attention," the teacher said. "In tomorrow is a big day. Your Awakening will determine your future. You must be prepared."

I sat in my broken chair and tried to focus. But my mind was elsewhere.

Tomorrow, I thought. Tomorrow, everything changes.

---

Later that afternoon, a student I barely recognized approached me.

"The teacher wants to see you in the library," he said. "Something about your assignment."

I didn't think much of it. I just nodded and walked to the study.

The door was already open.

I stepped inside—and froze.

The library was a mess. Books everywhere, their pages torn and scattered. Shelves toppled. Ink spilled across the floor.

And on the desk, lying among the destruction, was a book with its pages ripped out. A book I'd never seen before.

I heard footsteps behind me.

"Mr. Vex."

I turned. The teacher was standing in the doorway, his expression cold.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"I..." I looked at the book in my hands. "I found it like this. I just walked in and—"

"You expect me to believe that?"

"I'm telling you the truth!"

The teacher's eyes narrowed. "You've always been a liar, Mr. Vex. A troublemaker. And now you've destroyed school property."

"I didn't—"

"Don't." His voice was sharp. "I've heard enough."

He walked to the door and opened it. The hallway was already filled with students, drawn by the commotion.

"Mr. Vex has been caught vandalizing the library," the teacher announced. "He will be penalized."

The whispers started immediately.

"Of course it was him."

"The bastard can't help himself."

"He should be expelled."

The teacher turned to me. "Ten points will be deducted from your score. You will clean this library and rearrange everything back to its original form. And you will take home a list of the destroyed books and replace them. At your own expense."

I stood there, frozen, surrounded by the whispers and the contempt.

"Go," the teacher said. "And don't make me regret being lenient."

I walked out of the study, my face burning. I could feel their eyes on me.

But as I walked, I heard something else.

Two students, muttering to each other as they passed.

"I'm so nervous about the Awakening."

"Me too. What if I don't bond with anything?"

"Or what if I get something weak? My parents will be so disappointed."

They were scared. Even the students who hated me. Even the ones with powerful families and bright futures.

They were all scared of the Awakening.

And that's when something shifted in my mind.

For me to go back, I realized, I have to survive. Not just survive—I have to thrive. I have to prove I'm not weak. I have to show them all.

I stopped walking and looked out the window at the spires of the Academy.

"Tomorrow," I said quietly. "Tomorrow, I'm going to bond with the strongest beast I can find."

I didn't know if it was possible. I didn't know if the world would cooperate.

But I had to try.

Because if I failed, I'd be trapped in this body forever—stuck in a world that hated me, with no way home.

And I refused to let that happen.

---

The library smelled like dust and defeat.

I'd been cleaning for hours. My hands were raw from picking up shattered glass. My back ached from hauling books back onto shelves. The ink stains on the floor refused to budge, no matter how hard I scrubbed.

Through the window, I watched the sun sink below the spires of the Academy. The sky turned orange, then red, then purple. Then darkness.

And still, I cleaned.

I picked up another book, its cover cracked and faded. I was about to place it on the shelf when something caught my eye.

The title.

The Taming of Void Beasts.

My heart stopped.

I opened it carefully, my fingers trembling. The pages were yellowed with age, the ink faded but still legible. I flipped through, searching for something—anything—that might help me.

And then I found it.

A page with a picture—or rather, where a picture should have been. Someone had ripped it out. Only a jagged edge remained, surrounded by text that described the beast in vague, incomplete terms.

"What?" I whispered. "Why would anyone rip away the great beast image?"

I stared at the torn page, my mind racing. Someone had deliberately destroyed this. Someone didn't want people to know what this beast looked like.

But why?

I flipped through the rest of the book, searching for more. But every page about the Void Beast was like this—torn, damaged, incomplete. Like someone had gone through and systematically erased all evidence of its existence.

"Who would do this?" I muttered. "And why?"

I didn't have answers.

But I had a feeling I was onto something.

I tucked the book under my arm and continued cleaning, my mind spinning with questions.

What was a Void Beast? Why had someone destroyed all records of it? And what did it have to do with me?