As far as I was concerned, my conflict with his Mistress would only end when one of us was dead—preferably her. For my part, I saw no need to talk to the bitch before I slit her throat. Depending on what I found when I finally met her, my opening comment might come in the form of my blade slicing into her neck.
Mornik led me around one final corner, and the hallway ended abruptly in a massive pair of double doors. I assumed that he’d open the doors and introduce me to his Mistress, but the seneschal halted a few steps away before motioning for me to proceed alone.
The heavy door opened slowly when I tugged on the large iron ring mounted in its thick wood, revealing a large, circular room with several alcoves carved into the circumference of its stone walls. Aside from those adornments, the chamber appeared to be completely empty, and I peered into the darkness of each of the recesses as I advanced forward cautiously.
As I continued glancing around the room, I was startled by the dull thud of the door closing behind me, followed by the unmistakable scraping sound of a heavy bar being set in place across it, blocking my exit.
“I’ve been waiting quite a long time for this,” a soft voice offered a warm welcome as it echoed from somewhere behind me.
I turned towards where the voice seemed to come from, but only saw the same dark, empty alcoves that lined the walls. The Mistress of Shadows seemed to be amusing herself at my expense, but I wasn’t going to cooperate.
“Don’t fucking play with me,” I growled my irritation into the shadows. “Show yourself.”
“As you wish…” the softness vanished from the Mistress’ voice, replaced by an icy tone that chilled my blood.
But with those words, I managed to finally locate the dark alcove she’d been concealing herself in. Peering into it more intently, the blackness inside the recess seemed to swirl about before emerging; resolving into a vaguely feminine form that hovered just slightly above the floor.
Once the Mistress ventured out of her concealment, she paused, holding still the deep black shadows that made up her ever-changing silhouette for a moment, allowing me the opportunity to take in what she’d decided to reveal. Within those shadows, I saw nothing else—no hidden figure or physical form of any kind. Only the deep darkness stood before me, insubstantial yet somehow projecting the sense of a material presence as well. In comparison to the utter black void of her form, the tendrils of my Shadow Armor seemed like pale things, nearly devoid of any power, while the darkness that surrounded her radiated with an intensity I’d never experienced, even when I’d lost myself in Kiva.
This was no mere pretender that I saw before me. There was obviously far more to the Mistress of Shadows than I’d believed. I wondered if the wild stories that we’d been told could actually be true. Was this… being in front of me the same one who’d led the dark races’ conquest of the surface world long ago? Could she be? No mortal race lived that long, not even the Sintári of old, yet there she was, gliding across the cold stone just a few paces away from me.
“You have caused me a great deal of inconvenience, child,” the Mistress continued coldly. “You’ve killed most of the Deathless who served me, nearly all of my perfected beastkin, and even managed to defeat Galeron the Black, my dragon servant. I should simply kill you where you stand, but you have far too much potential for me to slay you needlessly.”
“Save your breath—I won’t help you,” I saw no need to let her drag things out. “You represent everything that’s wrong with this world. I came here to end you, not serve you.”
With my last word, I lashed out at the Mistress with one of my Shadow Armor’s tendrils. Despite the apparent discrepancy in our power, I thought the dark projections were still my best hope of defeating her, but my attack seemed to pass through her figure harmlessly, causing the Mistress no discomfort.
“You cannot hurt me with my own darkness, little one,” the Mistress scoffed at my effort. “The shadows you wield are nothing but a small portion of my own; a weak imitation of a far greater power.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
My darkness was most definitely my own—it was in many ways the deepest and most personal aspect of who I was. I had no idea how this bitch had withstood my attack, but I was damn sure that it wasn’t because we shared anything in common.
“I can see now that you are not like the other Deathless,” she mused. “All they sought was more power for themselves and were easily brought to heel. But you want far more than that—you truly do seek justice. So, if it’s justice that you seek, then perhaps you’ll be interested in hearing my story. The story of the greatest injustice ever committed in this world.”
“Go ahead, I’m listening,” I prompted her.
Not that I was interested in whatever ridiculous tale she planned to tell me, but only as a means to buy me some time to find a way to take the bitch out. For whatever reason, my shadows had no effect on the Mistress, so I needed to find some other way to kill her. Without a material form, I didn’t have much faith in Spells or physical attacks, so as she began speaking, I struggled to come up with some other option.
“I was once much more than what you see before you,” she began, her voice dipping low, tinged with a deep sense of loss. “But Uthalan betrayed me—stole my Essence to feed to his worthless offspring. He stripped me of almost everything and then cast me off without a care; leaving me to drift in the void, helpless and reduced to almost nothing.”
“His filthy spawn took what Uthalan had robbed from me and used it for their own selfish purposes, unconcerned over where it had come from. Having taken all they could from me, they abandoned me completely. But despite their cruelty, I survived their treachery, and eventually, I grew stronger. Strong enough to strike back at them and sabotage their vain attempts to glorify themselves.”
“When they finally abandoned their world, I took it from them, sending forth my armies to reclaim its surface. But even with my great victories, I still could not face their might—the Oath-Breaker Uthalan and his foul brood are too powerful for me to confront directly. Then, when the Deathless came to this world, I finally saw my opportunity to strike back.”
“Your kind possess unique abilities, as you know, and I was able to turn many of them to my cause. They desired only more power and sought the easiest way to obtain that might—so I gave it to them. With enough Deathless fighting for me, I would eventually be able to destroy the faithless Gods. Still, I wasn’t quite ready to reveal myself, but then Uthalan sought to erect the Great Barrier, and I was forced to intervene.”
“When the Gods performed their Ritual, I sent my own darkness into their magic as it formed, seeking to disrupt their efforts—I failed. Despite my attempt to stop them, the Gods succeeded in forming the Barrier, and I lost nearly all the Deathless under my command. I thought I’d been completely thwarted until I felt your darkness in the Northlands.”
“I was well-aware of you, Empress, and the threat that you represented to me. But when you destroyed your enemies at Kiva, that was the first time I tasted your darkness—the darkness I’d given you. I do not know how, but you took in the shadows I sent to disrupt the Barrier’s formation, making them your own. Whatever else you may be, the darkness inside of you comes from me.”
My search for some way to attack her ground to a screeching halt when she spoke those words. It didn’t seem possible—little she’d said up until that point made any sense to me, but, as so frequently had happened in the past, I felt the truth of it deep inside, and it scared the shit out of me.
“Too much has been stolen from me; I cannot fight them myself. That’s where you come in. I can teach you what you need to know to defeat the Gods,” the Mistress continued, her voice growing more excited as she relayed her plans to me. “Together, we can avenge the wrongs that have been done to me. Together, we can cast down Uthalan and his ungrateful spawn. With the power I can give to you, we can rule this world—Granddaughter.”
A shiver went down my spine as
she spoke that final word, and I realized exactly who it was that was hovering in front of me. Nentai’s story of how she and her siblings had been born hadn’t fallen on deaf ears, and I recognized the tale the Mistress of Shadows told as Veroiá’s twisted perspective of those events. Then, as if to remove any shred of doubt I might have had, the Mistress opened her eyes for the first time.
Amid the deep darkness of the void that comprised her being, I couldn’t tell that she’d kept them shut the entire time. But when the thin slits slid open slowly, revealing the glowing green orbs that had been hidden behind her closed lids, I took a quick step backwards, uncomfortable with being confronted by the very sight I’d used to instill fear in so many others.
Veroiá’s eyes pulsed with brilliant green light, burning with an intensity that I doubted mine ever had. Before me was a Goddess, and even though she may have been a fallen Goddess, I felt the awesome power that flowed from her once she’d finally revealed herself to me fully.
“Nentai told me they thought you were dead,” I stalled for time while I tried to come to terms with all that had been revealed to me.
“They wanted me dead!” Veroiá raged in response. “Uthalan and his vermin tried to kill me but failed. Now it’s time for me to pay them back for their treachery, and you will help me.”
Veroiá thrust out her hand, extending a set of links towards me as she did. They were very much like the ones worn by her Deathless servants, only these were far thicker and much heavier-looking than any I’d seen before.
“Put this collar on, and I will begin your training,” Veroiá commanded.
“No,” I took another step back, recoiling from the dark links of chain.
“You have to accept the links willingly for the binding to work,” Veroiá advanced towards me. “But there are many ways for me to gain your compliance.”
A thick band of utter blackness shot out from her, wrapping me in an iron grip as it began suffocating me. I struggled against the wide tendril of darkness, but neither my strength nor my own shadows were able to resist its crushing force. I’d thought that the powers I possessed were awesome, but compared to the might of even the fallen Goddess, they were feeble in comparison. I may have wielded my shadows, but Veroiá was the darkness, and the vast difference between us became readily apparent as I struggled to free myself from the overpowering grasp of her tendril.
Then, as suddenly as she’d struck, Veroiá flung me to the ground where I desperately gasped as I tried to regain my breath. She hovered over me as I lay there helplessly, her smugness quite apparent, even from deep within the inky blackness of her indistinct form.
Her confidence was not misplaced. Not only were her abilities far beyond mine, but the second Veroiá’s attack struck me, I recognized the influence of her darkness. Her shadows were the same bitter things that dwelt deep inside me; the ones I’d had to hold back and never let loose. She was the source of not only my shadows but also the demons in my soul—the ones who haunted me at times and constantly sought to break free. I knew then that if Veroiá was able to reach inside me, to somehow connect with the darkest part of my soul, that she’d have me. And, obviously, Veroiá knew that as well.
“I can appreciate your reluctance, Granddaughter,” Veroiá mocked me. “But you cannot hope to prevail against me. If it helps you to make up your mind, know that the links will grant you a portion of my power in return, far more than I offered any of the other Deathless.”
She tossed the collar at me dismissively, apparently confident that I’d give in and put it around my neck, and I lifted the heavy chain from where it had fallen beside me, feeling much more than just its physical weight in my hand. Beyond the metal it was constructed from, the collar carried with it the burden of the obligation that came with it, the weighty repercussions of submitting myself to Veroiá’s twisted vision. Putting the links around my neck would place this world—my world—at her mercy, and I’d rather die than allow that to happen.
“No fucking way, Grandmother,” I returned her mocking jab with one of my own. “You can kill me if you want, but I’ll never wear this… thing.”
I flung the heavy collar back at her and watched as it sailed through her immaterial form before clattering against the wall, sending the dull echo of ringing metal throughout the chamber. Obviously indignant at my refusal to comply, Veroiá’s green eyes flared bright with her fury, and she lashed out at me once more.
“You. Will. Put. It. On!” She slammed my body against the cold stone wall repeatedly, shattering my nose and nearly rendering me unconscious in the process.
My eyes watered and blood streamed freely down my face as I struggled feebly against the band of darkness she’d used to fling me about—to no effect. Even in my hazy state, I realized that I stood no chance against her might; my strength was my shadows, but they were only one aspect of who I was. In contrast, Veroiá was nothing but darkness, consumed by her hatred and rage. Whatever light may have been within her had been extinguished long ago, snuffed out by the overpowering presence of her shadows. But with nothing left to lose, I grasped at an almost ludicrous plan—darkness was quite clearly Veroiá’s strength, but could it also be her weakness?
I summoned every shred of emotion I could, reaching back to call upon every memory I had and used them to form a pair of orbs deep within me. Leaving the twin balls as raw and unfiltered as possible, I willed them into my hands before slamming the orbs against Veroiá’s skull.
She howled a piercing scream of utter anguish when my orbs passed into her, and I held onto them tightly as I sent the balls of light deep within the center of Veroiá’s being. I’d never thought of using my orbs of light as a weapon and had likely been right in doing so, yet while considering the discrepancy in our power, I’d realized something, and that inspiration spurred on my desperate action.
My own shadows ran deep, but ultimately, I owed their power to the light within me that illuminated them. Without that light, there could be no shadows; the two needed each other. I’d never truly understood the full extent the power of the light within me held, but it was the true source of my strength—my darkness was only defined by the bright light that cast its shadows.
But Veroiá had no light to balance her darkness, and while that had given her own shadows a tremendous strength, it had also left her vulnerable. Without her own source of light to define them, the glowing orbs I’d sent into her easily extinguished her shadows, undoing her power completely. Like Nedd, she’d been confident in the utter helplessness of her quarry. She’d thought me completely vulnerable; unable to resist her superior might. But I’d taken her by surprise, just as I had him, and I intended to make her pay the very same price he had.
Maintaining my connection to the luminous orbs, I forced more and more of my own light into Veroiá, filling her with it as she cried out in torment. She thrashed about, desperate to fling me away, but the deep connection I’d created between us allowed me to cling to her, and I held on for all I was worth. If I lost hold of her, I knew I might never have the chance to strike back at Veroiá again, so I funneled everything I could into the thick bands of light that bound us together, constantly reinforcing them as I did.
I drew upon my love not only for Líann but for Venna, Insleí, and Ella as well, pouring every fiber of my emotion for them into the powerful orbs that surged within Veroiá’s rotten core. On top of that, I added the still-lingering deep feelings I had for Tási, letting my love for her flow freely without any sense of regret or remorse. When I had a need to summon my darkness, I could still bring it forth easily by simply recalling the memory of her loss, but when I had need of her love, I found that I could still count on her—even in death, Tási never let me down.
Despite the power of the raw light I forced into her, Veroiá did not succumb to me. Even through her tortured wails of agony, she fought back, desperately hanging on in the face of her pain. The sheer force of Veroiá’s twisted will rose up against me, threatening to suppress the pow
er of the light I’d shone inside her. Looking for still more to add to my own tendrils of light, I added the love I felt for Nentai, my mother, to the vast stream of emotion I was feeding into my orbs.
Veroiá jerked at feeling the sensation of my love for Nentai; the warmth of it making her recoil in revulsion. Something about it had obviously struck a nerve in her, and I could only think that experiencing some portion of the love I had for Nentai as her daughter had wounded Veroiá badly. Seizing on that, I focused on summoning every shred of that emotion and ramming it down Veroiá’s throat.
My efforts inflicted a great deal of pain, but I could soon tell even that would not be enough for me to prevail. I’d given it all I had; pushed every last fiber of my being into the effort, but it wasn’t going to overcome Veroiá’s incredible might. She may have been a fallen Goddess, but Veroiá was still a Goddess, and my mortal powers were simply not strong enough to undo the bonds that held her together.
I knew that I had failed—and that as soon as she recovered, I was going to feel the fury of Veroiá’s wrath when she retaliated against my impudent attack. Then, as I poured my last reserves into one final surge, something happened.
Snap!
Somewhere within me, something broke with a sharp crack, shattering like a fragile pane of glass. But it wasn’t of a destructive nature; rather, I had a vague sense of some deep energy within me being released. I felt a sudden flow of power, and Veroiá’s piecing wail echoed in my ears as she cried out with a renewed sense of anguish. My chest ached with a pain of its own as a nearly boundless flow of energy coursed through me, flooding Veroiá with light from some unknown source. As the black shadows of Veroiá’s form slowly scattered and the last traces of green light faded from her eyes, the power took its toll on me as well, and I passed into oblivion.
I awoke sometime later, with the dull ache still throbbing deep inside my chest. Although the sensation of that pain was still with me, my other wounds had obviously been healed. The last thing I remembered was falling to the rough stone floor in the center of the room, but as I slowly pried open my eyes, I found that I was sitting upright, propped against the cool surface of the smooth wall of the chamber. Through the haze, I heard a voice speaking to me, gently coaxing me back to consciousness.
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