Abolisher

She was falling.

Deeper and deeper and deeper.

Down and down and down.

Round and round and round.

The dark around her was not gnawing, and it was not fearsome.

This gloom … she’d been here before. Time and again. Enough that even in her subconscious, she recognized the manner of her mejest.

The darkness that would, over the time, be consumed by that light she was nearing—she could just sight it from here, looking as small as stones found on streets.

That light—the gate of her mejest.

Her mejest would only grow with immortality until it sprawled all around and consumed the dark void.

She’d always been told it was endless, her mejest. Had been told to never cross that gate lest she wished for power to eradicate her someday.

But she’d never believed it—not truly. A part of her had always believed that that gate … that brightness … it was some sort of boundary. She’d thought her mejest concluded there. But …

She wasn’t falling.

No, she was burrowing—she pushed and pushed and pushed—towards that brightness nearing with a preternatural swiftness. As if a well coming to devour her.

It was that same gate, she knew. The gate she was never meant to open. Hexet and Raocete had warned her against it over and over and over again. But Drothiker lay somewhere beyond it, she felt it, and she must hunt it down. She must—

The approaching well swallowed her whole. She slammed into it—her mejest—her lightning and winds—like someone might into a mountain of powder.

She could have sworn her surroundings buzzed as power thrummed. Could have sworn something inside her—something in this void—cracked.

But she had no time to panic over that.

The brightness swallowed her whole. It chewed at her skin like tiny insects crawling across it. The surroundings shuddered—

She paused. Halted the burrowing.

Drothiker.

This brightness was no lightning—or winds.

Drothiker’s barrier had been broken. It’d set itself free within her.

And only then did she notice the cracks in the eternal white—the power—enveloping her. The cracks … the scars of a warrior …

Her heart thundered, remembering the outburst she’d felt within herself mere minutes ago when she’d been with Felset. The eternal agony of utter power. Drothiker … it’d undone itself at the sight of the queen …

She felt her surroundings blistering—felt its presence then, as it grinned.

Starblood, it greeted.

Her blood went cold, its voice—a wretched existence of its own—seemed to have blazed the back of her neck.

What brings you back, Heir of Grinon?

Her hands fisted at her sides as the last images of her parents played in her mind—certainly felt like lashes of a whip. “How much longer, Drothiker? How much longer before you yield—”

Ah, it interrupted. I do not yield, Syrene of Lavestia.

Irritation and exhaustion nipped at her. “I tire of these mindless games, Drothiker.” Her voice was little more than a broken whisper.

Because she was tired—truly tired, down to the marrow of her bone. She wished things had been different, she wished …

Selfishly, she wished it’d been someone else. Someone else Destined to save the world, someone else forced this obligation. She wished she’d had the life she’d wanted; if not, she would’ve at least appreciated a chance at it.

She wished her world hadn’t been at the brink of destruction. She wished … whatever previous life she’d had as Felset and Delaya’s sister, she wished she’d had enough courage to kill her brother and shatter the curse, she wished she’d been brave enough thwart the opening of the first portal.

Voice your desires, Syrene.

But somewhere in this void of brightness, another crack sounded. As if a warning that she was drifting away.

“You didn’t hold your end of the bargain,” she seethed. “You offered to lessen the pain I’d felt in my soul. Instead you’d attempted to seize me by showing me the horrors of the world.”

It chuckled. Chuckled … as if it were truly any other living being. It wasn’t, she knew. Drothiker was just a noise in her mejest—she just happened to be able to decipher its language.

You ought to know I love games you tire of by now, last Alpenstride. And do not mistake me for a fool. I know why you’re here just as I am aware whom you wish to slay with my assistance. I shall be freed soon. You cannot hold me—not with the power my master has brought in your world.

It liked games, then be it.

“Your master,” she spat. “The one who abandoned you? Exiled you?”

My master gave me life, she never abandoned—

“Felset trapped you in a damned stone!” she shrieked. “If she adored you so much, why would she even separate you from herself?”

A cool laugh slithered down her neck. You seem to forget I am not real, Starblood. I cannot switch loyalties as humans and baeselk alike often do. I am hers, and hers shall I ever remain. Like a fool, you set me free of all your commandments. You cannot leash me. You cannot clutch me. You do not matter.

“You played me,” she found herself whispering. “It was supposed to be bargain—you were meant to heal—”

A snicker. Foolish girl. She could have sworn a phantom hand grazed her cheek. You forgot all you did. You forget how you betrayed my master, and how you caused the fall of worlds. My world—Aegestan. You forget you’re the reason my master suffered amongst those beasts in Rukrasit. Surely you can bear being played slightly.

Now it was her turn to laugh. “You lie.”

Silence.

“You lie to yourself. You say you care for your master and yet you showed me her schemes. You showed me what she’d done to Deisn—how she’d been taking humans as hosts and bringing baeselk here. You showed me those visions to fuel my anger—so I would break the barriers of lightning and come to you. You wanted me to accept you—reach out to you. If it weren’t for you, I would have never grasped what was being done to these humans acting so strangely. You want Felset down. You want to win against your master. Because then you would truly be invincible—if there’s no one to command you, you can destroy this world any time you wish—”

You are delusional. I am hers, and hers shall I ever remain, it repeated.

To her eternal shock, there was a reluctance in its voice. She felt it scorching in the surroundings. “Yes, but she separated you from herself, Drothiker.” She grasped at an invisible string of defiance and tugged. “You are no more hers. You are no more Drighrem. Do you truly believe Felset is the one who freed you?”

Again, silence.

She snorted. “Oh no, she didn’t. You were still lashed to her during the Jagged Battle. She would have destroyed you had it not been for my ancestor. Grinon Alpenstride is the one who freed you. My ancestor did all to dislodge you from her.”

She felt it pondering. If it could ponder at all …

“You and I are abolishers, Drothiker. We crave destruction—it’s in our nature. You might have hated witnessing Felset suffer, but do not dare deny you did not enjoy the fall of half the universe. Do not dare deny you did not thoroughly revel in the chaos that reigned in Rukrasit.”

She could’ve sworn a presence appeared beside her. It took all her training to keep herself from cowering.

Eons I have lived, Starblood. Its voice had dropped. And some more. I can tell when the world changes its plans. I can tell when the sun decides to drop sooner. And yet … A phantom hand caressed her neck. I cannot tell what you desire.

She stiffened. “Right now, your alliance.”

It didn’t deny outright, or laugh in her face, which seemed like a good sign. But what do you truly desire, Syrene of Light and Blood?

Her chin lifted. “I wish to save my world.”

Do you, truly?

“Of course.” She didn’t miss a beat.

You and I are alike, indeed. The voice was too near her ear. You lie, too.

“I do not comprehend what you’re implying.”

Mere moments ago, you admitted we crave destruction, did you not?

Syrene’s breath hitched.

The void enveloping her hummed, tattling about its amusement. Change of heart so soon?

Careful—she had to choose her words very carefully. “Unfortunately, Drothiker, what we want isn’t always what’s truly needed.”

Needed by whom, Syrene?

“By … existence. By Destiny. By people. By universe—”

Ah, universe. The hum loudened. Would you help me destroy it, Starblood?

Her heart sped. Her head hurt, unable to keep up with the changing courses of this conversation. If she refused, she would risk losing any chance of an alliance. And if she accepted …

You and I—we can create our own universe. We shall be gods—more.

Something appeared at the corner of her eye.

She turned, and her breath snagged.

A room constructed brick by brick—in a moment, the illusion stood well and beautiful.

A throne room—built at the heart of a forest. An enormous tree seemed to touch the sky; a seat structured within its trunk.

Where Faolin perched like a queen.

Her white dress as light as the wind gusting around her. Crown of Stars sat atop her moon-white hair. The Lady of Night.

We could form our own Destinies. Which one would you want for yourself, Syrene?

The illusion rippled, and dissipated into black fog. Then the fog knotted together and molded another illusion.

Her heart raced.

Syrene lay in grass beneath a starlit sky—in a modest blue dress. She looked … happy. Extremely happy. Stars pooled in her blue eyes as she remained stargazing. There were no scars on her naked arms and neck—neither those carved by Jegvr shackles, nor those caused by ruthless training.

In fact, there seemed to be no scar on her heart either. Happy.

“You like stars?”

Syrene startled, sat up with a jolt.

Just as Azryle entered the illusion.

Her heart strained at the sight of him. There were scars on his hands, yes … but …

His eyes. That emotion in those depthless silver eyes …

Felset didn’t exist in his life—not in that illusion. He looked genuinely joyful. He looked … he looked …

He shone brighter than the stars overhead—looked more alluring than the damned moon.

Syrene bolted to her feet, her lightweight dress bouncing with her movement. Then she clumsily bowed. “Your Highness.”

Indeed, Azryle was wearing his princely uniform—the same one he’d worn on Feast of Melodies a year ago.

He lifted an amused brow—that teasing still thrived with him.

She looked away from the illusion, squeezing her eyes shut. Because it hurt like Saqa—to know that she could have all that right now, to know that the offer lay just in her grasp. All she had to do was stretch her arm and take it. But the price …

The price being the loss of countless lives. The price being the blood on her soul.

Yes, it was true that the only salvation she could offer her people was death. It was true that the only chance she had at freeing them all from the plague that had swallowed her world was the destruction Drothiker was so willingly offering.

But what if it wasn’t?

What if they were missing something—what if there was a loophole they hadn’t just glimpsed?

She needed time—she … she needed time to find something.

End could not be the answer.

End could not be the only choice her world was offered.

All her people, all the blood on her hands couldn’t have been for nothing. Destiny was a raging pain in the ass but Destiny was not undefeatable. It couldn’t be. If anything, Destiny had to be either a damned fool, or too good at these games.

It put an entire Abyss-damned world in a child’s hands, telling her to save it.

It either truly hoped for chaos and destruction—knew there was no force in the universe to change the fixed, and just watched all these idiots running a fool’s errand trying to hold a doomed planet.

Or it truly believed the planet would be saved by some hopeless, worthless girl.

Or maybe Destiny was simply cruel and was sitting back in its settee and enjoying the lashes bestowed upon that hopeless, worthless girl, placing bets on whether she would succeed.

If it truly was, then it must truly be enjoying the show. Because she felt worthless and hopeless down to her soul. She deserved nothing of the world Drothiker was promising. She didn’t deserve the joy on her face in the illusion still playing at the corner of her eye.

She didn’t deserve Azryle.

One last gamble—she would play one last gamble.

“I’ll make you a deal,” she breathed.

She felt its amusement and curiosity in the brightening void.

Go on.

“Ten years,” she said, raising her voice. “Give me ten years of assistance. And I’ll set you free to destroy the world. Take down the Abyss-damned universe if you want.”

Thrill ignited buzzes in the light.

“One decade is all I ask.”

The buzz loudened around her, crept into her ears.

We have a deal.

She paused. Her fingertips felt numb.

She didn’t know what she’d expected, but the quick acceptance hadn’t been it. It made her hesitate.

“Do not dare betray me again, Drothiker.” She heard the change in her voice—the rise of the volume, the hint of rage, and the sudden steadiness in it.

She lifted a hand.

And waited a moment.

The moment she felt Drothiker grinning again, mocking her, she closed her hand in a fist with a snap.

The light around her seemed to gasped to life and energy, storms and thunders poured in all around her.

She stretched her hand and the void writhed, moved. It gripped her outreached hand—tight enough to stop the flow of blood. But …

She watched as the light seeped into the pores of her skin and met her blood and bones. Power thundered everywhere.

She loathed this power—loathed the way it electrocuted her and yet didn’t kill her and free her of everything. Loathed the way it took each life threatening hers, just not her own.

Loathed that it was never enough to fill the void inside her.

Loathed the hole it left.

Loathed the way it felt good.

“You are just a free insect in my castle.” She was surprised how she managed to find her voice when the rumbling power threatened to obliterate her right here. “Know that I can succumb you now. Here. Anytime I wish.” She spat the words, partially at Drothiker. Partially because she couldn’t breathe.

Stop, Drothiker snarled, alarmed. You shall destroy yourself, foolish human.

Good.

She took more power. If she died like this, she could find her own way to any Hell, she would thrive there—

Senses rushed to her.

Lavestia.

Azryle.

She only repeated, “We have a deal.” And found her way out before she lost herself in the unending void for eternity.