"You said Mael's very being as been split in half, and according to Astrophel I'm missing half of my own soul." Ophelia said.
"Where is the other half?" She demanded.
"You don't want to know." Narcissus said.
"I do, it's my right." She hissed, and Ophiuchus held her hand in support.
"On the Isles of Avalon." Narcissus told her.
"They're currently resting in a form of a magical induce coma. It took years for they're body to heal physically from the burns they received. It was a miracle I was able to get them out in time." Narcissus sighed.
Burns...?
"Who are they?" She pressed on.
"Calytrix." He answered. "Calytrix is Mael, as Mael is Calytrix, which means you are Calytrix, as Calytrix is you, together you are Mael."
Everyone froze.
"T-That's impossible." Ophelia said.
"Tell me them, how did Calytrix find you in that abandoned church located in some forest in the suburbs of England?" Narcissus asked.
That was a good point.
"How did— isn't she Grindelwald's daughter? He is over a hundred years old. Explain that." Ophelia demanded trying to find something anything to deny this.
"In the last cycle Grindelwald, took in Mael and Lycidas, as his own claiming them as his sons. Though Mael's connection with him was strong that Lycidas's own. So much so in this life, Grindelwald was lonely so to keep him company he crafted a child out of clay. Then on midnight of July 31, 1980, Grindelwald woke up to find his creation had come to life. He didn't question it. He saw her as a gift." Narcissus explained.
"Calytrix unlike you remember fragments of being Mael. She knew what she did and what she had to do. She may being a sweetheart, but don't forget she is Mael as well. I've literally watched her string people by their own intestines with a smile on her face." He told them.
Yet they couldn't believe him on that.
Calytrix, sweet and kind Calytrix, couldn't even bruise a flower petal without feeling bad.
"Then why does she remember and I don't?" Ophelia questioned.
"You can blame Fate on that. When they threw that blade the spell was botched." Narcissus explained to her.
"In the end to restore your soul and remember your past lives, one of you must die for the other half of your soul to reconnect with the other." He sighed once more.
"Yet when Eros, almost killed her, the soul would have just disappeared rather than connecting with your half. Since Eros didn't just almost burn her alive, but almost burned the soul itself." Narcissus said.
Ophiuchus wanted to throw up. He cursed in his head as he felt his stomach churn. He was lost, confused and violently sick. His brain felt like it would swell beyond the capacity of his skull and now his dryness in his throat was too obvious to ignore.
It all came rushing back to him.
There was so much blood, blood on the his hands from trying to stop it, blood on his clothes for holding onto her limping body close. Blood in his hair from pressing his forehead her chest with a still heart inside and willing it to beat again, blood on his lips, tears mixing with the red, his throat raw from screaming.
So loud that he was sure that the oceanic creatures would hear him at the bottom of the seven seas.
He cried, and his magic called forth the brilliant sun and golden flames came to cry with him as as ash rained from the sky above him.
As Silas was kneeling down cradling Elias's unconscious form in a pool of her blood, desperately trying to keep her alive.
Narcissus holding onto his eyes as they bleed going blind from staring into the flames trying to get them all out.
Everything else was a blur to him.
Next thing he knew he was being held by Narcissus as they knelt before the pile of ash that was once his, Starflower.
Ophiuchus by then had since stopped screaming, everything around him dulling to nothing. He couldn't hear anything.
He killed her.
He would've cried again then, screamed, cursed the world, but he doesn't. He can't. For how can he curse the world when he cannot feel it?
"How could he burn a soul? Only she could do that..." Astrophel's eyes widen in realization. "The Black Sun. He's the Black Sun."
"Ophiuchus is Lobelia..."
Just as those words were spoken the all glass, and porcelain of the great hall had shattered.
The sunlight through the large now broken windows catches off the edge of thousands of razor sharp shards flying through the air as everyone tries and takes cover.
It's a tornado of razors, cracking against everything around them, half falling to the floor and shattering further as they collide but there's still more than enough still roiling, a cloud of glass and porcelain that shifted and formed, has transfigured into whips that lashed out violently to almost everyone.
Everyone expected Ophiuchus and Ophelia who were in the center of it all at the eye of the shattered storm.
Nothing could contain Ophiuchus.
His emotions were both his greatest asset and weaknesses, there is a reason he kept himself numb, such as moments like these.
Ophelia turned to Ophiuchus, he was as empty as a blank canvas.
Yet his duel colored eyes, now held flecks of the most brilliant and deathly shade of gold she has ever seen.
His eyes are that of a maelstrom, a great madness that is spinning about a vacuum, the swirling of a vast ocean around a hole in the void, and in the waters, more like whirlwinds than waters, all caught up in a sinister, bottomless whirlpool.
"A furore infra, libera nas." Narcissus prayed.
Spare us from the fury within.
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