by Ryvr Jones
“Do you know what the box contains?” He was terrified of what would happen once he opened it. Of how he’d react to Brianna’s words.
“No. It’s sealed with some kind of magic, and as far as I know, nobody tried to break it. It was given to my family for safekeeping, and I think we’ve managed to honor our duty.” There was pride in Nell’s voice.
For the first time, Rhys looked at her, really looked, and his heart lurched. Family. Duty. His fingers tightened on the box and he closed his eyes. Will I ever find forgiveness?
It didn’t matter. He had to keep going. He performed the spell to break the box’s seal, and found another scroll, alongside a silver pendant.
Deciding he’d deal with the pendant later, Rhys was about to open the scroll when Caeron took a step forward and stilled his hand.
“Wait. I don’t want you to go berserk again. Not only is it a pain in the ass to deal with your Mr. Hyde, but it’ll make another hole in the colander you call a soul.”
“Berserk?” Nell squealed. “As in a real berserker, an old Norse warrior?”
Caeron put his hands on his hips. “You shouldn’t be excited at the prospect of somebody going ‘old Norse Warrior’ on our asses.”
“I’m a historian, you ox.” She crossed her arms. “Do you know how many opportunities I have to see real, living ancient warriors, Norse or not?”
“Well,” Caeron shrugged, “Rhys is definitely ancient, and you could say he’s a warrior. Not a great one, but yes.” He grinned at Rhys, then sobered. “We don’t know what the scroll says. What if you flip out again?”
Tarani touched Rhys’s arm. “I can read it out loud.” She gazed up at him, sadness in her eyes. “I don’t want to intrude, but I think I can tell, better than anyone, if what it says is going to hurt you.” She squeezed his arm. “Maybe at this point, you can trust me a little.”
Rhys tugged her to him, hugging her with one arm. He brushed her temple with his lips and told her the truth he felt in his chest. “I think I trust you more than either of us know.” He handed the parchment to her. “Go ahead.”
“Only if you let me listen to your thoughts through the bond,” Caeron said. “You know how to hide your emotions and thoughts too well.”
Rhys cursed. He hated to be monitored, but he was willing to do almost anything to stay out of the Abyss. “Fine.”
Tarani started to read, her smooth voice filling the library.
Ryanne,
This is the last message I will be able to send to you. The barrier between our world and the outside—which is now your home—is almost completely closed. Soon, not even the Morahmath will be allowed passage.
The decline that started millennia ago is complete.
The Goddess has granted me one last vision, a terrifying glimpse of the future. Death and destruction, brought about by something that was once a man. I don’t know who or what he is, but he is dangerous.
A decaying army, hidden in a faceless night. The army’s master is blind, but he sees. He saw you, and the darkness and your misery, and delighted in it.
The Blind One is neither alive nor dead. He exists beyond my reach, and outside the Morahmath’s rule. I can’t fathom how such aberration may have come into being. I couldn’t see his origins, his creator, nothing from his past.
His fate intercepts your own. Somehow, he plans to use you as his instrument. He has been waiting for you, for the time when the darkness would resurface, to feast in untold horrors. To destroy Gods and humans alike.
There is a prophecy. He calls it “The Prophecy of Dark Days”. It seems old, though not as much as the one that foretold the Child of Darkness. This prophecy, unknown to me, shapes the Blind One’s course.
Find it. Find the Blind One. He must be destroyed before he crosses paths with the darkness within, or all will be lost.
You will face difficult choices, but you can write a new story and create a new future. There are others who will walk with you, who will share your burden and will fight the battle at your side. Turn to them in your hours of need. They will help you keep hope alive in your heart.
I believe in you. I have trust in your courage. You must believe and trust as I do. You are a servant of the Goddess. She will be at your side.
I will always love you.
Brianna
When she finished, Tarani faced him. “Brianna is right. I know you harbor guilt and shame on your soul, and you don’t believe you deserve forgiveness.” She pinned him with fire in her eyes. “You must let this crap go. You need to let it go.”
“It’s not that simple, Tarani.” Rhys turned his back to his companions. His skin burned with shame, regret coursing through his veins. All of this was his fault, and Tarani expected him to believe in himself. To believe the Goddess had forgiven him, and would protect him.
“Rhys, man, are you still with us?” Caeron asked, pretending he wasn’t aware of Rhys’s thoughts. “Don’t make me go poking inside that messed up skull of yours.”
“Yes,” Rhys ground out. “Give me a minute. I’m not going anywhere.”
Tarani plastered herself to his back, encircling his torso with her arms. He took comfort in her embrace, letting it ground him to where he was. Clinging to her ever-present light, allowing himself to believe it would keep him safe.
Caeron whistled. “Your minute is over. We need to assess the new information and do something for a change. I’m tired of sitting on my ass.”
Tarani touched his heart, silently asking if he was okay. Surprisingly, he was. He still didn’t think he deserved trust or forgiveness, but somehow she made him feel that things would be okay.
“Thank you,” he whispered.
She gave him a quick squeeze and stepped back.
Taking a cleansing breath, already missing her warmth, he nodded. “What do we know?”
As he beheaded another walking corpse, Caeron realized that sitting on his ass and doing nothing hadn’t been a bad thing.
Earlier, Nell had taken them to the town’s library, to search for clues about the “blind one”. Which was a stupid nickname, if you asked him.
Like most public buildings in Tarmanagh, the library was small and a few centuries old. They had been reading ancient texts and manuscripts—essentially doing the same he’d been doing at his own library for Gods knew how many days—when the rotten souls had attacked.
In plain daylight.
Now he was fighting a swarm of the fuckers, who’d already killed the two unlucky humans who’d been in the building at the time. After seeing the rotten corpses fighting two skeletal figures, the two human souls had ran away, screaming. What a reception to the Otherside. Poor bastards.
Rhys and himself had turned into their dullahan form immediately, but it seemed the corpses had learned from their encounter at the ruins. They were using the sheer power of numbers to fight. As soon as Caeron chopped one head off, two more fuckers took its place, while another dozen piled up on him from all directions.
It was like swimming in a rotten ocean.
“We need to get to Tarani and the seer,” Rhys barked through the bond. He wasn’t faring much better.
“No shit.” Caeron wished he could roll his eyes. “What the fuck do you think I’m doing here, smelling the rotten roses?”
He slashed another neck, and another, and another. And prayed to the Gods that nobody else had plans to visit the library today.
“Watch out!” Nell’s scream was covered by a deafening explosion.
The ground shook, taking Caeron down. What the unholy hell? Looking around, he got back on his feet. There was a fire in the Northwest corner of the room, smoke billowing above the flames. The building was made of solid stone, so it wasn’t going to collapse, but the explosion had cracked the walls, sending shards of rock in all directions.
Shit. Near the source of the fire, Nell jumped over the debris. He couldn’t believe his eyes. The historian was fighting the fuckers, one long dagger in each hand, slashing and kic
king ass like a seasoned warrior.
Tamerah was nowhere to be seen, and Caeron could feel Rhys’s fear. “Keep it together, man,” he broadcasted. “Find Tamerah. I’ll get to the seer.”
Caeron caught one corpse by the neck and threw him against his companions, freeing himself enough to climb to the top of a table. Slashing and kicking everything he could get, he jumped off to the other side and turned it sideways, using it as a shield. Great plan.
More corpses caught him from his back, clinging to him.
Oh no, you don’t. With one smooth, continuous movement, he beheaded the fuckers conveniently aligned in front of him, at the other side of the table’s top. Using the corpses behind him as leverage, he lifted his feet to the table and pushed with all his might, sending them crashing backward to the floor.
And falling on top of them, still in their clutches. Not so great plan.
“Need help?” Nell hovered over him, a huge grin on her face. She cut off the arms holding him, and he scrambled to his feet, glad she hadn’t nicked his bones. Her daggers looked frighteningly sharp. She winked. “You can thank me later, hot stuff.”
He’d have glared, but he was incapable of facial expression at the moment, so he settled for beheading more walking corpses. Nell didn’t waste time either. She was surprisingly efficient with her daggers, using both of them to cut heads off.
“Tarani.” Rhys’s desperation thundered through Caeron’s bones. “Over there. Help her, Caeron, please.”
Tamerah was lying on the ground, bloody, apparently unconscious. At least two dozen rotten souls clung to Rhys, trying to get his head off. He fought like a possessed man, but they were too many.
“Now would be a good time to go berserk, my friend.” Caeron sent.
Clutching Nell’s hand, he dragged her with him, making a beeline for Tamerah. Nell caught up quickly. Plastering her back to his, she kept fighting corpses off, while walking backwards to keep up with him.
Caeron was astonished. Who the fuck are you, woman?
“I’m not your run-of-the-mill historian, pretty boy,” she shouted as if she’d hear him. “I can sense your curiosity and confusion.”
Right. He’d forgot about that. They made progress, but not fast enough. Three corpses closed in on Tamerah and knelt beside her.
An inhuman sound cut through the bond. Rhys. Oh-oh.
Tarani is in danger. It was all Rhys knew.
The darkness clawed at his skin. He welcomed the fear, the pain and the fury. You won’t take her away. The poison bubbled up and ran as fuel in his veins.
Kill.
He took a step, dragging the corpses that clung to him and tried to pull him down.
Kill.
He grasped a neck and watched his bony fingers closing, closing around it.
Kill. Kill them. Tarani is in danger.
Rhys smashed one skull against another. Threw them to the floor. Slashed. Another step. The darkness grew. He was going to drown. He didn’t care.
Kill. Kill them all.
Turning in a circle, fast as lightening, he pushed them back. Another turn, he cut several heads off. Some arms.
Another step. More heads. Rolling on the floor, severed limbs, rotten souls staring at him with fear in their dead eyes.
Kill.
Then he was free, and he ran, but the fuckers were gone and Tarani was bleeding all over the floor…
He fell to his knees. There was so much blood, she was so pale, his silver light was fading and he was dying again in the Thousand Deaths Battle, Tarani was there and it was her blood covering the field.
No, don’t go. You said you’d stay with me. You promised.
He touched her face, his bones white and her face white, she was bleeding.
If you die, I’ll destroy the world. Don’t go. I need you.
Darkness, darkness. He was drowning, but he needed to fight. I promised. Blood, Tarani’s blood.
Don’t go.
Someone touched his shoulder. Caeron. “Rhys, we need to get out of here. The fire is spreading fast, and humans are gathering outside. The firemen are going to come crashing in any minute.”
Rhys caught Caeron’s hand in a crushing grip. Kill.
“Get you shit together, man!”
Nell screamed.
Kill. Kill them all.
No. I promised I would fight. He released Caeron’s hand.
Blood, too much blood. Tarani’s blood.
Don’t go. He caressed Tarani’s face.
“Rhys,” she gurgled, her eyes closed. He leaned closer and she touched his skull, a whisper of light in the darkness. “I’m here,” she said, the words barely there, fading.
Don’t go.
But there was too much blood.
“Great. Just great.” Caeron huffed through the bond.
“You two dickheads, morons, of all the—” Darkness enveloped them, and they were back at Caeron’s home. “—fuck ups you two could have fucked up, this is the biggest fucking up of them all!” Seersha was livid. “Now the Enforcers are on my trail, are you happy?”
The sudden, unexpected change of location and Seersha’s angry words somehow brought Rhys back from the fog of the darkness.
“Back off, gravedigger.” The boss knelt beside Tarani, across from him. “Let me take care of her.”
Rhys dragged himself backwards on the floor and sat on his ass. He didn’t remember sitting on his bony ass ever before. It was awkward, but he didn’t care.
I just want Tarani back.
Seersha brushed Tarani’s bloodied hair off her face with such tenderness, it was even weirder than sitting over his bones. “It’s okay,” she crooned. “It’s going to be okay, Tamerah.”
Tarani had small cuts and bruises all over her skin, probably from the explosion. But what terrified him, what almost sent him careening back to the Abyss, were the gashes on her wrists and her neck. She’d lost a lot of blood, and now there was only a small drip from each slash.
“She’s almost gone.”
“Have faith, gravedigger.” Seersha leaned over Tarani and breathed close to her mouth, blowing light through her pale lips. Tarani opened her eyes wide, gasping, clawing the floor.
“Shh, shh, it’s going to be over in a second,” Seersha murmured, caressing Tarani’s hair while she thrashed and coughed.
Rhys crawled closer, ready to get Seersha away from Tarani. “What are you doing to her?”
Seersha shot him a murderous glance. “She’s healing, you bonehead. It hurts. Alas, I can’t do anything about it.” She turned back to Tarani. “I’m sorry, Tamerah. But I won’t let you die.”
Feeling pathetically useless, Rhys took Tarani’s hand in his own. She clutched his fingers desperately, silently pleading for help. Tears filled her eyes and slid down her face.
I’m so sorry, Tarani. I should have protected you.
She thrashed and cried for what seemed to him as hours. Seersha never stopped murmuring reassuring words, and he never let go of her hand. Finally, finally, Tarani started to calm down, the fighting and shaking easing slowly, until she appeared to be sleeping.
“That’s it, Tamerah. You were brave, little light.” Seersha touched Tarani’s face one last time, then stood up.
Rhys gathered Tarani in his arms, holding her as closer to him as he could, without crushing her. You’re brave indeed, silver light. He rested his skull against the top of her head. I’m so sorry you had to go through that.
“Now, you,” Seersha pointed a finger at Rhys, “are going to put your skin on, clean Tamerah of all this blood, and lay her somewhere comfortable where she can rest. She’s going to sleep for a while.” Her eyes went completely black, her lips curling in a menacing smile. “Then, we’re going to have a little talk.”
“I can do it,” Nell offered. “I’ll take care of her.”
Seersha looked at her for a moment before nodding. “Go ahead, while I rip these two a new one. And be nice to Tamerah, lady historian, or I’ll rip you a new
one as well. Or three.”
“Or three hundred,” Caeron muttered, already back in his human form.
“I look forward to being further terrified.” Nell curtsied. “Lead the way, oh, bony one,” she said to Rhys. The seer was courageous, he had to give her that.
Trying to avoid jostling Tarani, he stood. He’d have preferred to take care of her himself, but he doubted Seersha would let him. At least not without a fight. Better to let the seer clean Tarani up—it would be faster than arguing.
He left Nell in his room with everything she needed to take care of Tarani and went back downstairs.
Caeron and Seersha were already yelling.
“It’s not our fault the fuckers tracked us down there and torched the fucking place!”
“You should’ve been more careful. Haven’t you realized you have giant targets on your backs?” Seersha put her hands on her hips. “Do you think this is some small, meaningless job? We’re talking end of the world here, for fuck’s sake!”
Rhys changed back to his human form. There was blood on his clothes, his hands, and probably his face. Tarani’s blood. He shuddered. She’s alive. Nothing else matters.
Seersha turned to him. “What have you got to say for yourself? I can’t believe you’ve fucked up this much.”
“You’re right.” It was all he could say. He knew the rotten souls were going to attack them again, he should’ve known they’d do it precisely when they could do more damage. There were few things more dangerous to a supernatural being than getting the Enforcers’ attention. Messing up with humans was like calling them on their private line.
“Damn right I’m right! And now I’ll have to deal with the Enforcers, again, because I saved your sorry asses!” She punched a wall, cracking the stone.
“Maybe you got us out in time and they didn’t pick up anything,” Caeron said. “The two humans who were there were murdered. Nobody else knows what happened.”
Seersha snorted. “Right. The town’s library blew up, two people died, there are body parts scattered about and not enough blood, because the corpses don’t bleed. Oh, not to mention I took four stupid living morons out of there. I’m sure all of it will fly right over Belenos’ head.”
