They Rend: A Nyxia White Story (The Nyxia White Stories Book 2)

by Orlando A. Sanchez

  The dull, familiar pain throbbed along the side of my face and neck. It felt like a hot poker being shoved under my skin, threatening to burn my entire left side.

  “Excruciating, but nothing I’m not used to by now,” I said. “Will the pain go away?”

  “Eventually, yes.”

  “Eventually isn’t a timeframe,” I said. “Am I just supposed to deal with the pain?”

  “Yes,” Gryn said. “Pain is good for you. It focuses the mind and gives you purpose. Don’t you feel focused now?”

  “Oh? That’s what this is?” I asked, pointing to the scar along my neck. “Focusing purpose? I thought it was you being a sadistic fuck.”

  Gryn smiled.

  “You have no idea what a sadistic fuck is,” he answered. “I’ll introduce you to my teacher one day when I’m feeling exceptionally cruel and homicidal. She redefines and elevates the concept of sadistic fuckery to new heights.”

  “Pass,” I said. “I have enough psychopathic sadists in my life, present company included.”

  “It would seem you are ready to not die,” Gryn said. “I won’t say you’ve attained mastery, but your skill should suffice to liberate your demon without rushing to your immediate demise.”

  “That almost sounded like a compliment,” I said, raising an eyebrow in surprise. “Are you feeling okay?”

  “It wasn’t,” he snapped, waving my words away. “Your timing was horrendous, at best. Your techniques were overly showy and unnecessary. Do you think you’re auditioning for Cirque du Soleil?”

  “No, I was just trying—”

  “I’m not finished,” Gryn interrupted with a glare. “It was a rhetorical question. You should be focusing on economy of motion, not flashy maneuvers. The first dodge was barely passable. Everything after that was showboating. You must use minimum energy expenditure. Express your movements in precision and economy of motion.”

  “I wasn’t—”

  “Showboating will get you dead,” Gryn said, his expression dark. “Precision of execution. Use exactly how much you need. No more, no less. The flames, however, were a nice touch, but unneeded.”

  “You just said no showboating, but now the flames are a ‘nice touch’?” I asked, confused. “I don’t understand.”

  “Showboating is executing unnecessary acrobatics and flips when taking a step will do. The weapon is tethered to you. There was no need to wait for the halves to return to your location, you know this. You were just showing off with that move.”

  “But the flames are okay?”

  Gryn sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose before continuing.

  “Aside from making you nearly indestructible, the fire you summon is a primal force. It activates the limbic system in your opponents. Most people…creatures…fear fire, fear being burned. When you encase yourself in flame, you trigger the instinctual response of fear. People react badly when scared; you can use that to your advantage when facing enemies.”

  “Also, the fire is completely badass,” I added. “Admit it.”

  “Also, the fire is completely badass,” Gryn admitted with a small smile. “Let’s get you prepped. Your demon won’t wait forever.”

  FIVE

  “How many days have I burned in this warehouse?” I asked, concerned I would be too late to save Acheron. “I completely understand why, but maybe you’re right. Maybe it’s too late to save him?”

  “Days?” Gryn asked. “What are you talking about?”

  “What?” I replied, confused. “By my calculations we’ve been here for at least two weeks, if not more. Are you losing track of time? I mean, I get it—old sorcerers tend to lose track of time, I’m sure. All that sorcery must affect the few remaining brain cells you have left.”

  “Oh, there’s that famous Otherkin humor I keep hearing about,” Gryn answered dryly. “We’ve been here longer than that, my brain cells are in tip top shape and I never lose track of time…ever.”

  “More than two weeks? What the hell, Gryn!”

  “I thought you said that if he succumbed to their attacks he deserved it?” Gryn said. “Something about third-rate sorcerers and the like.”

  “That doesn’t mean I wanted to waste time,” I said. “Yes, he’s a Demon Lord, but he’s not invincible.”

  “You are a peculiar person,” Gryn said, staring at me. “You actually care about a demon?”

  “He’s not just a demon, he’s my friend,” I said. “Probably my only friend.”

  “I don’t know what’s sadder,” Gryn said with a slow head shake. “That you care about the demon, or that he’s your only friend.”

  “He has my back when it matters…always.”

  “Because he has to; the bond compels him,” Gryn answered. “He is not your friend. He is a demon. He is your slave. If you don’t believe me, release him and see how fast he turns on you.”

  “Don’t you think I tried?” I said. “I don’t know how to release him. I barely survived summoning him.”

  “It’s actually quite simple,” Gryn said, lowering his voice. “Do you want to know?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you certain?” Gryn asked. “If you break the bond, he will be free of your compulsion, and able to do as he wishes.”

  “That’s kind of the point, isn’t it?”

  “The Seven will consider him a real and present threat. They will hunt him down, and you too, for unleashing a Demon Lord on the world. Think this through.”

  “Yes,” I said, my voice firm. “I don’t want anyone in my life who feels forced to be there. I will release him, and if he wants to leave he’s free to do so.”

  “And if he attacks you?” Gryn asked. “A Demon Lord compelled to serve an Otherkin is quite a slight in his world. You are considered a lesser being, inferior to his status. He may even need to kill you to remove the stain of his bond to you.”

  “If he attacks me, then only one of us is walking away from that fight,” I said. “I’ll feel like shit for having to kill my friend, but there’s no way I’m picking him over my life. Not happening.”

  Gryn laughed.

  “I like you, Nyx,” he said. “You remind me of me when I was young and stupid, minus the young part. I will show you the sigil.”

  “Why?” I asked, wary. “Why are you doing this? Helping me? Showing me how to break Acheron’s bond?”

  “Because, like you said, you don’t have many friends,” Gryn said, looking in my eyes. “I know that feeling intimately. I also know what it feels like to be used, to be a pawn in someone else’s game. I think it’s time you had some agency over your life. Perhaps, even change the rules of the game.”

  He traced the sigil in my hand several times, and had me repeat it until he was satisfied I knew it.

  “That’s it?” I asked. “Doesn’t seem so complicated.”

  “It isn’t…if you ignore the blood component,” Gryn said. “That is a blood sigil.”

  “A blood sigil? I thought those were banned?”

  “So is summoning a Demon Lord,” Gryn replied with a tight smile. “It will require blood from both of you to break the bond.”

  “Shit, how much blood?”

  “Enough to make it dangerous.”

  “Enough to make it dangerous?” I scoffed. “Well gee, thanks, that sounds accurate. Should I slit one vein or two?”

  “I’d go with two, just to be on the safe side,” he answered. “In this case, it’s better to err on the side of caution…more is more. You will need to convince your demon to do the same…good luck with that. I hear most demons are reluctant to part with their blood.”

  “Are you fucking serious?”

  “Did it sound like I was joking?” he asked. “You cast the sigil and you both must pay the blood cost. That will break the bond and maybe kill you in the process. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  “You are a real piece of work, old man.”

  “Thank you,” he said with a mock bow. �
��I do try.”

  “In the meantime, you had me waste time in your rundown warehouse of pain and punishment,” I snapped. “You really are a sadistic bastard.”

  “I won’t refute my sadistic streak. I find pain is quite the motivator. My warehouse is in no way, shape, or form rundown. I prefer to think of it as gently aged.”

  “Gently aged, my ass,” I said, looking around. “This place is a dump, you bastard.”

  “You keep using that word,” he said. “I don’t think it means what you think it means. My conception was quite legitimate.”

  “Yay for you,” I growled. “Still doesn’t change the fact you had me waste weeks in this dump.”

  “Time is an elastic concept in this place,” Gryn said, gesturing to the space around us. “If you were paying attention, you’d realize it.”

  “Realize what?”

  “Haven’t you felt it? The odd passage of the hours? You don’t get hungry or tired. What did you think caused that? Your excellent Otherkin constitution? Even immense pains in the ass, like you, require sustenance and rest. When was the last time you slept?”

  “I slept the other day,” I said, confident in my tracking of time. “I mean I’m sure I did some sleeping.”

  “I didn’t notice,” Gryn answered. “When exactly did you manage to sleep? Was it between my pummeling of you? Or when you were dodging my obliterators?”

  “I’m sure I slept. I mean, how could I go for weeks without sleep?”

  “You can’t. Use some deductive reasoning. I know there’s a functioning brain in there…somewhere.”

  “If I didn’t sleep, then the only other, alternative is that you must have done something to time.”

  “Not the only other, but one of the other alternatives.”

  “Then I did sleep,” I said, certain. “I’m positive of it.”

  “Really? What day was it?” Gryn asked. “In fact, what day is it today?”

  “What do you mean what day is it today? It’s—”

  As much as I tried, I couldn’t recall what day it was.

  “Can’t recall?” he asked. “Makes sense. Time isn’t flowing in any fashion you are familiar with. It’s to be expected.”

  He was right. Ever since I stepped into the warehouse, time felt strange. The minutes dragged, feeling like hours.

  “What did you do?” I asked, suddenly aware of the stasis around me. “You froze time?”

  I looked around the warehouse as if noticing it for the first time. The details of the space were fuzzy. At certain points, they would be in focus, but the moment I looked away, they would become blurry, like a hazy memory.

  “I facilitated your training with a temporal pocket.”

  “A temporal what?”

  “In this place, time has almost stopped,” Gryn answered. “Once you step out of the door, your demon will have been kidnapped for approximately three hours from the moment you left the Seven HQ, give or take a few minutes. I merely compressed a week into each hour.”

  “What? You compressed what?” I asked, now completely confused. “How?”

  “The process is too involved to get into, requiring an immense expenditure of power. You wouldn’t understand me even if I tried to explain it to you,” Gryn said, shaking his head. “Suffice to say, I’m not strong enough to stop the flow of time entirely—few are—but with the right sigils and location”—he gestured to the space around us—“I can slow it down considerably.”

  “Only three hours have passed?” I asked, still trying to wrap my brain around the concept of slowed time. “That’s it?”

  “Give or take a few minutes, yes,” Gryn replied. “Once you leave, this location will cease to exist on this timeline until I summon it again.”

  “What about you?”

  “What about me?”

  “Are you going to poof out too?”

  “I have never, and will never, poof anywhere,” he answered. “I will make sure my warehouse is shunted to an adjacent timeline until I need it again.”

  “Then what? Off to torture other victims—I mean, trainees.”

  “I can’t assist you in recovering your demon if that’s what you’re asking,” he said. “I’m sorry. That would create an untenable situation between myself and the Seven.”

  “Untenable?”

  “Are you unfamiliar with the word?” Gryn asked. “Assisting you overtly would necessitate the spilling of blood, none of it mine.”

  “I understand. There must be a high demand for sadistic sorcerers in the world,” I said with a tight smile. “Besides, I don’t want you to get into trouble with Vic.”

  “Does she know you call her that?” he asked.

  “Does she know you call her Tori?”

  “Of course,” he said. “I’m the only one who does.”

  “Same here,” I said. “Vic suits her. It’s not like she can stop me.”

  He shook his head and looked off to the side, as if gazing through the wall and into the distance. For a moment, his gaze became soft and unfocused.

  “I do have other matters to attend to besides training aggravating Otherkin,” Gryn answered with a slight nod. “Victoria wanted you prepped, consider yourself prepped. She may not approve entirely of my methods”—he pointed to my scar—“but she doesn’t get to dictate the how, just the what.”

  “Victoria knew you were going to do this?”

  “Do what?”

  “The power,” I said, tracing a finger along my scar. “Did she know you were going to increase my power?”

  “Now, how would she know that?” Gryn said with a slight smile. “Besides, I think life is more interesting when you have some surprises in it. You being a more powerful Darkin than expected, will be quite surprising to anyone who encounters you. I have to say, you certainly surprised me.”

  “She’s going to be so pissed at you,” I said with a smile that matched his. “I doubt she wants me stronger. She already sees me as a threat.”

  “Now she will respect the threat you pose, rather than dismissing it, as others are prone to do upon first viewing you.”

  “Or, she will go full force and try to take me out, thanks.”

  “Are you saying you’re scared of the Seven or Victoria?”

  “Neither,” I said, my expression dark. “I’ll deal with them when the time comes.”

  “It’s refreshing to hear such determination, even in the face of suicidal odds,” Gryn said. “Such boldness is inspiring, even if it’s short-lived.”

  “Well, I have you to thank for putting me in this position now.”

  “My pleasure,” he said with a tip of his head. “You have few allies; I figured I would even the scales somewhat. With my gift, you being a Darkin now, and your demon, you may even stand a chance against the Seven.”

  “Or she will be even more pissed and put out a kill order on me and Acheron.”

  “What makes you think one doesn’t exist now?” Gryn asked, his voice serious. “Assume you have no friends, only enemies and opportunists. You’ll live longer.”

  “Acheron is my friend,” I said, defiantly. “He is my friend.”

  “He is your demon. There is a difference. You two share a bond.”

  “He would still be my friend, bond or no bond.”

  “That remains to be seen,” Gryn answered. “The fact of the matter is that he is bound to you, compelled by your summons. Let’s see what happens when he is no longer under that compulsion.”

  “Are you saying he would turn on me?”

  “I’m saying you’ll find out if and when the bond is dissolved. It’s not unheard of, demons befriending humans or in your case, almost humans. Rare, but not impossible.”

  “Why? Why did you do all this? You didn’t have to help me.”

  He waved my words away.

  “Victoria had one explicit instruction regarding you and this weapon: the training was not to kill you. Everything else was left to my discretion. I have to say I fulfilled my end of thi
s contract.”

  “And this scar, the increase in power?”

  “Consider that my gift,” he said. “Be wary of the Seven. They are not your friends, Victoria included.”

  “I will.”

  “I’ll stay in touch,” he said, reaching into his jacket, removing an envelope and handing it to me. “You still have much to learn, but what you have acquired in this accelerated, or rather, decelerated time, is enough to get you started.”

  “What’s this?” I said, holding the envelope. “Your bill?”

  “Child, you can’t afford me,” Gryn said with a laugh. “The price I would extract from you, would kill you many times over. That cost has been covered by Victoria. That”—he pointed to the envelope—“is something else.”

  “What is it?”

  “Vengeance and death,” he said, quietly. “That is the location of your demon. Use the information wisely.”

  “You knew? All this time?”

  “No, it took some tracking, but his trail wasn’t difficult to pick up.”

  “How? You were here with me.”

  “I’m an accomplished sorcerer,” Gryn said, mocking offense. “I can even manage to walk and chew gum at the same time. Locating your demon and dealing with you barely required any effort on my part.”

  “Where are they?” I asked. “Where is Acheron?”

  “It’s all in there”—he pointed to the envelope. “Be careful, Nyx. Yes, you’re stronger now, but you’re not invincible. Remember what I said earlier: focus on precision of execution.”

  “Thank you,” I said, suddenly realizing how much he had helped me. “I mean it.”

  “You’re welcome. Everything you need is in there,” he said, looking down at the envelope. “May you find your demon, and rain down pain and death on your enemies.”

  “I will,” I said with a grin, as I looked down at the envelope. “You are one wily old bast—”

  I felt the charge of energy around me.

  When I looked up, Gryn was gone.

  SIX

  I tore open the large manila envelope.

  It contained a map, an address, a set of blueprints and a small slip of parchment-colored paper covered in dark red sigils. On the back of the small slip of paper, written in what I assumed was Gryn’s handwriting, I saw six words neatly arranged: For Emergency Circle Destruction Use Only.