Its form shifted, becoming a great winged lizard of black oil, but as it flew aloft, Hanner fired a mortar, blowing its wing off and sending it crashing back down.
It became a speeding cheetah, rushing up the stairs as fast as it could, but Ellie fired her rifle, clipping it through the shoulder and causing it to stumble.
Captain Evere drew his cutlass and swung it above his head as he led the charge up the stairs. “After her, strike her down. Hit her with everything you’ve got!”
The black cheetah swung its paw, and a thick wall of thorns sprung up before them. Without breaking stride, Privet whipped out his own hand, and the twisted plants withered away to dust.
It cursed and became a long serpent, slithering up the stairs with frightening speed, but Andolf sent his spirits, snaring it by the tail and holding it in place. The serpent flicked its head back, spraying a jet of magical poison at its pursuers, but Privet slashed into the liquid with Covenant Breaker, reducing it to nothing.
Back on the ship, Rachael and Albashire fired the Dreadnaught’s cannon. The ball slammed into the snake with a sickly thud. It screeched in pain, snapping and biting at its own tail until the tip broke free.
It became a great spider, and began climbing up the side of the tower.
As Privet passed by the discarded tail, he sliced through it, and it boiled away into nothing.
Mina took aim and fired her net launcher, the tight weave of metal wires wrapping themselves around the spider as it climbed. It bled through the gaps, becoming a mass of wriggling worms that flowed upwards.
Hanner and Strenner punched together, combining their fire into a jet of blue fire that scorched the writhing mass.
Up and up the side of the tower the battle raged. The beast became a great black rat, but Talliun shot it with her blunderbuss. It became an ape and climbed the stone with bare hands, but Dr. Griffin hit it with a vial of potion, bathing it in searing caustic magics.
Privet slashed and sliced as he ran, cutting through channels, destroying runes, smashing crystals. Whole sections of the tower were flickering and sputtering. The east wall exploded outwards as the forces ran wild. The tower writhed and squirmed as if it were a living thing, huge pieces falling away as it tore itself to pieces with its spasms.
The beast became a great porcupine of oil, firing a volley of black quills down at its attackers. Everyone scattered, Privet holding his ground and deflecting the quills with his blade. Covent Breaker sizzled with delight as they evaporated against its surface.
Evere and Tigera fired their rifles, striking the creature through the head. It exploded into a flock of bats that flew upwards.
“Stop her!” Captain Evere screamed. “Stop her!”
Everyone fired as they ran and climbed, destroying dozens of bats as they ascended, but the swarm flew higher and higher, moving out of range.
“Give it all you got!” Privet roared, his heart pounding in his chest as he ran up the stairs as fast as he could. They were dizzyingly high now.
The swarm of bats reached the top of the tower and began reforming into a single, wretched mass.
Greedy silver eyes looked at the powers churning at the center of the blossom. As the gods died below, and Valpurgeiss died above, their essence was being gathered into a glowing orb, like a miniature sun.
“It’s mine!”
The beast stepped forward, but its ruined flesh began to resist and twist.
“Oh no, not this time! I won’t let you stop me again!”
The beast plunged its decrepit hand into its own chest and yanked hard, pulling free a glob of black tar. “I don’t need you anymore! With this power, I can exist on my own!”
It threw the glob aside with a splat, then sprinted towards the orb. “Now, I will finally live forever!”
Privet tackled the demon from behind, knocking it to the ground. They rolled over, the beast biting, thrashing, and clawing. Privet ended up on top and flipped the sword in his grip.
It looked up, its silver eyes filled with shock.
“This is for Alder!”
Privet stabbed down, piercing the demon through the heart.
The beast screamed as black light erupted from its eyes and mouth in a disgusting fountain of filth and grime. Its body flapped and slapped about as if it were deflating. It lost control of its form and flew apart, melting into a puddle of black tar.
Its silver eyes quivered as it looked up at the dying stars above. “You…you’ve killed me. After all these centuries…I’m…actually going to die…”
“Good riddance,” Privet spat as he stood up, pulling the blade free. “You sacrificed so many lives, killed so many people, just so you could live longer.”
“No…no! I can’t die…I can’t…”
He slashed at the dark crystals around the orb, destroying them utterly. The beams holding the stars fizzled away, and the tower slumped over and died.
“And now we see your true form,” Privet spat. You disgusting little thing, it makes me sick just to look at you. So afraid to die, a loathsome little pizzle, running from its own mortality.”
He knelt in close. “You thought you could be a god, but all you really are is a murderer.”
The others reached the top, gasping for breath. Below, the gods were released from their torture, laying amid the ships as the broken fragments of their bodies slowly sifted back into place.
The oily black form that had once been Queen Sotol began to boil away, disintegrating at the edges into nothingness.
“It’s over,” Athel breathed. “It’s finally over.”
“No, it’s not too late,” the puddle called out as it wasted away. “You can bring him back.”
Athel looked up. “Who?”
“Alder, the orb is still active. With it, we can bring Alder back to life.”
They all looked up at the orb floating at the center of the blossom.
“You’ve only interrupted the spell. It can still be completed. Just give it to me.”
Athel felt her heart recoil.
“No… it’s not possible, even a god couldn’t bring him back.”
“The orb is more powerful than a god, it can transcend even their limitations. Just give it to me. Hurry and I will give him back to you.”
Athel clutched her chest, her scar burning.
“Don’t listen to her, lass,” Captain Evere warned. “She’s just trying to trick us.”
“Can you take that chance?” the oil asked, its body boiling away. “If I’m telling the truth, you’ll be able to hold Alder again in your arms.”
Athel’s heart shrieked inside of her. The memory of Alder’s touch, the memory of his smell, it tortured her very being.
“If we use the orb, it will end the world,” Athel shouted back, her voice quivering.
“You don’t have to use the whole thing,” it offered. “Just sacrifice one of the gods. Milia, for example.”
“She’s lying!” Privet yelled. “Don’t listen to her!”
Tears ran down Athel’s cheeks as she looked at the orb. The thought of holding Alder again was completely overwhelming. She couldn’t think straight, she couldn’t…
“Hurry!” it pleaded, “let me give him back to you!”
Without telling it to, Athel found her body moving towards the glowing light.
“But, if I sacrifice Milia, the women of Wysteria will…”
It cackled. “What do you owe the women of Wysteria? Didn’t they betray you? Didn’t they revile you? Wasn’t it they who gave you all those scars? If it wasn’t for them, you would have won this war long ago. They’re the reason Alder had to sacrifice himself in the first place.”
Athel stepped closer, her eyes trembling. “You’re a monster...” she whispered. “How...how could you offer me such a thing?”
“If we give her the
orb, she’ll just complete the ceremony,” Mina warned. “Don’t do it, sweetie!”
It sneered with evaporating silver eyes. “Then do it yourself, Athel. It’s not that hard. Just reach out your hand and take him back.”
Athel balled her fists, tears dripping off her chin. “Stop it.”
“Can’t you see Alder, reaching back for you? His sweet beautiful eyes, pleading to you? Just take his hand.”
“STOP IT!” Athel sobbed, her body shaking.
“Isn’t he more important to you than they are?”
“SHUT UP!!!!”
“Well, isn’t he?”
Athel squealed in pain, her shaking hand reaching out for the smooth cool surface of the orb.
“Athel, NO!” Privet shouted, drawing near.
“STAY BACK!”
Athel drew her saber and held him at bay. “Just stay away, let me think about this.”
“You can’t do this, Athel.”
“WHY NOT?!!!”
Athel’s eyes filled with grief. “I miss him. I miss him so much. I just want to hold him again. Just…one more time. Please…please just let me hold him. Let me save him…”
The saber rattled in her grip. Her hand trembled just above the orb.
No one dared breathe. If she moved at all, if they even startled her, her hand might accidentally touch the orb.
Privet looked at her, compassion in his eyes. “Because Alder wouldn’t have wanted it this way.”
Athel froze in pain.
“Alder wouldn’t have wanted you to sacrifice the women of the forest just to bring him back.”
Athel’s eyes trembled with pain. A little hand reached up and touched her chin. She looked down, and saw Ash looking up at her worriedly from the sling.
“Mami?” he asked in concern.
Athel’s saber fell from her hand and she lowered her face, tears dripping off her chin.
“I miss him so much…” Athel sobbed. “I just want to see him again.”
Privet came to her and held her tightly.
“I know. I know you do. I do, too.”
“We all do, sweetie,” Mina added, her eyes tearing up.
Athel slowly pulled her hand away from the orb. It was the hardest thing she had ever done.
A deep, guttural laugh rose up around them.
Privet looked up and saw the puddle cackling as it evaporated smaller and smaller.
“Why are you laughing?”
“Because, you may have beaten me today, but in the end, I win. Athel, you will spend the rest of your life knowing that you could have brought him back. Every moment of every day, every long sleepless night, you will know that Alder could have been with you, but you chose them over him. You chose the people of the forest who hate you over the one man who loved you more deeply than anyone else ever will.”
Athel looked up in terror, realizing that it was true.
“SILENCE!” Privet hollered.
The demon cackled wickedly as it dissolved into vapor. “You betrayed Alder, and you know it.”
Athel’s mouth fell open in agony.
“I win,” it sneered. “I WIN!!!!! I have wounded you so deeply, you will wish I had killed you this day.”
Athel screamed in anguish.
“You will never heal from this Athel Forsythia...” the demon’s voice echoed one final time.
“You will never heal…”
And then it was gone. The last of its black body boiled away into nothingness.
Ellie breathed a sigh of relief as the band of void magic in her neck finally dissolved away for good.
The discarded glob boiled away as well, revealing the body of a young woman with raven hair lying unconscious on the ground.
“Spirea!” Tigera ran up to care for her. She opened her eyes dreamily.
“Where…where am I?”
Tigera smiled in relief and wrapped his coat around her. “You’re safe.”
“Oh…good.”
She closed her eyes and leaned her head against him, drifting off to sleep.
Without the demon to maintain it, the entire island trembled and the void barrier came crashing down. The gods came flying in, great cheers rising up from the people on the ships surrounding the island.
Slowly, the eclipse of the moon and the sun began to wane, letting natural light spill in yet again.
Valpurgeiss came crashing down, his frail, ghostly form falling to the base of the tower, where he lay pitifully.
“She…she did it…she saved us,” the goddess Zelica cheered, her long ears flapping behind her.
“Huzzah!” Quetah cheered, holding up the skeletal form of Valpurgeiss by the scruff of the neck. “Let us seal this evil thing away in the void for another thousand years. That will teach him!”
The other gods cheered mightily.
The god Rendas floated up to the small group of tiny mortals atop the tower and gave a deep bow. “Thank you, Lady Forsythia, you have earned our undying gratit…”
“WAIT!”
All the gods paused and looked over as Athel stood up, her hand now hovering over the orb again.
Athel wiped the tears from her face, anger in her eyes. “Just what makes you think that I’m going to walk away from this device? You feign to believe you can go back to way things were? To what end? So this tragedy can be repeated all over again in a thousand years when Valpurgeiss returns for the next double eclipse?”
The gods were speechless.
Athel shook her head. “No. This ends today. I will not allow my descendants to suffer as we have. This is your fault, YOUR FAULT! All of you gods. You created Valpurgeiss by stealing his light, and we mortals were the ones who paid the price.”
Quetah’s mane burned brightly with indignation. “How dare you?”
He held out his hand and fired a blast of white-hot flame, intending to roast the entire tower. Privet stepped before Athel and slashed his sword. The mighty flames parted and vanished, leaving the tower unharmed.
The gods were shocked to see it.
Athel snarled. “Choose your next move carefully, fire god, or the last thing you see will be my hand slamming down upon this trigger and ending your existence for all eternity.”
Quetah stared at her, disbelieving.
Odansire crossed his mighty arms. “She’s bluffing. She knows that without us, the mortals will die, too.”
“You don’t think I will?” Athel screamed, silencing him. “You monsters, can you even fathom what you’ve done to me? I’ll never be able to sleep again without nightmares. I’ll never be able to wake without weeping. You robbed me of my youth. You destroyed my life! You hurt me so deeply that I will never recover. You and your pointless wars. You and your worthless pride. And I’m not the only one. How many generations have suffered under your reign? How many billions of lives lost? How many countless hearts trampled beneath the stampede of your bloated vanity?”
She turned to Poe. “And have we mortals ever received even so much as an apology from any of you?”
Poe withered under her steely gaze.
“And always the same excuse! Always the same reason given. You are the gods, we are the mortals. And we’re just supposed to accept that without question.”
She turned to the rest. “Well, I question it! You’ve torn my life to shreds. Every breath I take is a gasp, because my heart is expecting something else bad to happen. I’ll never have a moment of peace for the rest of my life. You’ve taken away so much from me that I don’t even care anymore if I live or die. So don’t think for a second that I will hesitate to end you and me and this whole rotten world right here and right now if you do not back away THIS INSTANT!!!”
There was so much force in her voice, so much outrage, that the gods themselves backed away from her.
Odesi l
ooked her over carefully, his blue skin pulsing. “What are your terms, mortal?”
Athel ground her teeth. “You gods were content to sit back and allow mortals to fight your battles for you. Now, you will pay the price for our services. You will all return the light of creation to Valpurgeiss and restore him to his proper form!”
The gods gasped at her command. Maltua raised his hammer as if he meant to strike her, but Awhano bade him stay.
“The problem is, that would leave us unable to create new peoples,” Awhano explained, his third eye rolling about. “You would reduce us to mere demi-gods.”
“NO! The problem is that you have always known you could start over and make new peoples. It made us disposable in your minds. It made us not something to cherish, but to use.”
Athel paused and looked them over. Their expressions told her they knew it was true. “You will never again be able to create life, but if you care for them and treasure them, you just might be able to keep the peoples you already have.”
The gods balked. Semas’ stormy form roared angrily. “How dare you?”
“Do not misunderstand me,” Athel cautioned. “I am commuting a death sentence passed against each of you. Try to show a little gratitude.”
Jabint was furious. “You would sit in judgement of us?”
“After everything we have suffered at your hands, after everything we have lost because of your pride and folly, because you refused to do something as simple as return what you once stole…after all that, you DARE ask me that? Yes, I absolutely sit in judgement of you, and you are GUILTY!”
Athel’s rage silenced their protests. They stood there, unwilling to respond. Finally, it was Poe who broke the silence.
“She’s right,” he said, growing into an old man. “…this is all our fault.”
Nehriana downed the last of his wine and stepped forward. And if we do return the light to Valpurgeiss…”
“I’m not finished!”
They were all shocked at her outburst.
Athel looked them over with her pain filled eyes. “You will never again use mortals to settle your grudges and disagreements. You will have no authority to command or threaten your peoples. If you wish something, you may ask only, and they will decide for themselves whether or not to do as you request.”
Isle of Wysteria: Throne of Chains Page 43
