Page 82 of Torn Ivy
“That’s your true timeline,” Life explains. “The one you were torn from when you were scattered across dimensions.”
I frown, recoiling from the images with my fragmented memories. “But if that’s real, then what is this?” I gesture to the empty, snow-covered world around us.
“This is a fractured reality, created by the chaos of the ritual that brought you back,” Life says. “It’s unstable, incomplete, and if left unchecked, it could unravel completely with all of you in it.”
The snake around my neck tightens, as if sensing my unease. I stroke its scales absently. “What am I supposed to do? How do I get us back?”
Life’s expression grows serious. “You need to remember who you truly are, Ivy. Not just the scattered fragments of yourself, but your whole being. Your purpose.”
“You keep mentioning this purpose,” I say, frustration creeping into my voice. “What purpose? I have no memories of anything except things. It’s probably why I rememberyou.”
She grimaces at my insult but pushes it aside. “You are Chaos incarnate, Ivy. The embodiment of change, of transformation. You’re meant to bring balance to the realms, to shake things up when they grow stagnant.”
And?
She’s not saying everything. What can’t I remember? It seems important that I do.
“What else aren’t you telling me?”
Life sighs, her form shimmering in the falling snow. “You’re not just Chaos, Ivy. You’re the Nexus. The focal point where all realms intersect. Your existence holds reality together.”
I blink, stunned by this revelation. “That’s why I ended up everywhere when I?—”
“Died.”
I splutter. “Died? I died?”
“Mm-hm.”
“And you want me to go back to that reality where I’m dead? How will that help anything?”
“It will bring your lover back.”
I stumble back, my eyes going back to the vision, to the part where I avoided looking earlier.
Tate.
“And then?” I croak, wondering why I believe this creature, but I do. For the first time since I came back, I actually know what she says is real.
Life’s expression hardens slightly. “And then you’ll have a choice to make. One that could reshape reality as you know it.”
I stare at her, my mind reeling. “What kind of choice?”
“Whether to remain as you are—scattered across dimensions, holding reality together but unable to truly live—or to become something new. Something that can exist in one place without tearing the fabric of existence apart.”
The snake around my neck hisses softly, its scales rippling in agitation. I stroke it absently, finding comfort in its presence. “If I choose to become something new? What happens then? Tate lives?”
Life shrugs, her form flickering like a candle flame. “I don’t know. That’s the nature of true change, Ivy. It’s unpredictable. But it’s necessary. The realms have grown stagnant, calcified. They need the spark of chaos to evolve.”
I roll my eyes as there’s that word again. But this time, it hits something deep inside me, and I start to grasp fragments of the life I lost. “You wanted to use me to create eternal life,” I mutter. “If I go back, what happens then?”
She smiles, and I see the ominous presence rippling under the surface of her smooth skin. “Only one way to find out.”
And then she’s gone.
“Don’t trust her,” Bram says from the doorway. “You can’t trust a word she says. This is all because of her.”
“Maybe,” I agree. “But she also isn’t wrong. If she says this isn’t our real timeline, that the ritual you performed to bring me back tore a hole in reality, then we’re in some kind of fractured dimension.”
