Page 175 of Sunsplitter

Ether streamed from his fingers, entire threads billowing black against black. Cold prickled Fi’s skin. No air existed here, yet a breeze ruffled her hair. This infinite place, so empty, so stark, the pressure constricting her chest a constant reminder that she couldn’t linger long.

But for a moment, she watched the beauty of the Void dance at Veshri’s claws.

He released the ether, threads dissolving into nothing. Fi composed herself.

I don’t know how I healed myself,she said.The skin formed on its own.

Veshri nodded. As if this was a perfectly normal conversation.When you cut your hand, you don’t tell your skin how to reform. When a child grows, it needn’t think of the direction its bones must take. The structures are ingrained. I discovered the same. When I provided material, some concentration, my body knew how to regrow. Still, what you’ve done is… unusual.

Fi bristled. How many times would she have to hear that? She was unusual. Impressive, for a human. Only notable for not acting like the inferior beast she was meant to be.

Why unusual?she thought at him.Because I’m human?

Of course. For a mortal to weave ether, to join it with living flesh—

I think you’ll find humans are capable of many impressive things.

Veshri blinked.Why wouldn’t I?

I’ve dealt with plenty of daeyari who don’t have the highest opinion of mortals.

Young one.He pressed a hand to his chest.I used to be mortal.

His mild tone left Fi flummoxed. Sure, she’d heard the story a hundred times. She knew the myth of Veshri, the first immortal daeyari, who’d died and refused to give his soul to the Void, who’d clawed his way back to the material Planes, who’d gifted eternity to his race. Amidst all that grandstanding, it had never fully clicked that…

Veshri used to be mortal.

He used to be like Fi.

The daeyari who came after me, he said.Are born into immortality. They didn’t earn their eternity. Some show that more than others.

Frustration slid through Fi’s chest, not entirely her own. She shivered to get rid of it.Sorry. I know the stories, but I never…

Please. I’ve no say in half the stories daeyari tell about me.He gestured to her stomach.But this, I can help with.

Veshri’s words bore none of the edge that Avroz’s did, those snide remarks scraping over fangs. He soundedtired. What an odd realization, that one of the oldest creatures in the Planeverse might understand what Fi was going through.

A relief, too, finally speaking to someone who knew what to do about this.

What happens when someone combines ether and mortal flesh?she asked.

As I said, unusual. Which is why I wished to speak with you alone. Youmay decide who you trust to tell. But be wary: the daeyari have hoarded their immortality for millennia.

Misgiving knotted Fi’s belly.Why does that matter?

Consider, human: Why does your body age when mine does not? You cut yourself, and you heal. You break a bone, it mends. In time, though, this ability lessens. Your material starts to break down. ButVoid ether doesn’t break down. And now, part of you…

The pressure on Fi’s chest turned crushing.

She wished she could gasp. Could scoff. Could do anything but listen to the thud of her heart in her ears.

When she touched her stomach, the cold of Void-ether flesh ached up her spine.

Part of me… is immortal?she thought.

Veshri studied her with alarmingly calm eyes, for this revelation.Can you imagine? What would happen if you kept replacing pieces? Parts that are injured. Parts that age.

In contrast to his casual intrigue, Fi fought herself back from the precipice of hyperventilation—perilous, in a place without air.