Twilight of the Gods

The dagger was in her hand within seconds. But before she could move, Uriel had already pinned Ezra to the marble floors.

Hubert, the large Elysian, bends to the ground, trying to pry the angel off with his tree trunk arms. But as strong as he was, he couldn’t seem to keep a hold on Uriel, who was a gold blur of unbridled rage as he landed punch after punch on Ezra.

It was only when Nyx grabbed Uriel’s shirt collar and pulled him off the Elysian that Daeva was able to get a full view of Ezra. She almost didn’t recognize him, save for his twinkling blue eyes which were watering with pain. The rest of his face was bruised and bloodied, resembling a rotten tomato more than a person.

Daeva had done worse to people down in the Mortal Realm. At the height of her bloodlust, she had once sliced a soldier’s skull open and watched both halves of his brain fall out, back when she was still adjusting to Godhood. But seeing Ezra’s face so mangled was unsettling. It meant that the man that she feared could be hurt, that his blood ran red and fragile like the many mortals she had killed in the past.

She should’ve felt a flutter of hope in her chest knowing this. Instead, all she could feel was the deep taint of humiliation on her cheeks. How could she let someone so breakable torture her? She would kill him easily if only she could remove her Binding Chains. But maybe they hadn’t affected her strength. After all, Uriel seemed to have found no trouble summoning his angelic might.

That was another thing that had unsettled her. In the time that she knew Uriel, he had been nothing but gentle and patient. She had never seen him act so violently, so quick to end a man’s life. He was always restrained, clamping down on any negative emotion. It made her head spin to see the blood on his knuckles and anger twisting his soft features.

Privately, she admitted that the display was exhilarating. As a God, it meant that his strength was hers, to be used for whatever she wished, whenever she wished. She owned him, mind and body, regardless of whether he liked it or not. But saying that to herself didn’t feel right. She saw him as her friend, not a servant. It was the only part of Godhood she couldn’t get right. She had no trouble wielding power or committing horrible acts of violence. But she wasn’t very good at getting others to do things for her without force.

Even as a God, she was still maddeningly human.

“Control your angel,” Nyx said, dragging Uriel to Daeva’s feet. “I will punish him if he acts violently again.”

She rolled her eyes, bringing Uriel to his feet. She may have had complete control over Uriel, but she rarely needed to exercise it. And she didn’t enjoy being ordered around by Nyx either.

“Is what Ezra said true? Are you unable to grant my request to bring the angels back?” She doesn’t try to hide her irritation from having to stick around Otherworld. It was a small consolation seeing Ezra with his face bashed in, but she didn’t want to play Nyx’s games. She didn’t like the Lady of the Night and her strange promises.

“He’s correct, but not for the reason you think. Your wish must be the thing you want most or I cannot grant it.”

Daeva sneered. “You can’t give me the thing I want most. You can’t kill the Elysians or bring back the angels. You’re weak and useless.”

Careful, Anhel warned. I know what you’re trying to do. Making her angry won’t make her easier to control.

But rather than fall for her ploy, Nyx remained calm. “Is there a reason you cannot be honest with yourself? You ask for death and corpses rising from the ground, but you can’t say what your heart wants the most.” She turned to Haydn, meeting his glare with her dark eyes. “The same goes for you. For a couple of Gods, you are pathetic. All of that power and yearning, but neither of you uses it to help yourselves. I despise repeating myself so I will ask this one last time. What do you Gods want the most?”

The answer to Nyx’s question rested on the tip of Daeva’s tongue along with a thousand protests against it. As much as she wanted her wish, she knew that the sacrifice that came with it could very well destroy her.

But Haydn seemed to have no qualms about his greatest desire. He stepped forward, walking to Nyx until he was an inch away from her. The darkness of his eyes rivaled the Lady of the Night’s irises as his lips parted to say his wish.

At first, Daeva couldn’t tell what he was saying, his voice so low and intimate. She would only make out the words “Evelyn” and “love.” Once he was done speaking his wish, all of the words rushed to her ears.

“The thing I want most is to find my first love, Evelyn. Whether she is dead or alive, I want her with me, whole and in the flesh. I want the chance to live with her as soulmates do in the Mortal Realm.”

She was taken aback by the vulnerability of his wish. She had assumed that he would ask for the death of the Elysians as she had done before, knowing how stubborn he was about getting things his way. But his first love?

Nyx was pleased. “Your honesty is refreshing and your wish is true. But what about you?”

Everyone in the room turned toward Daeva, their eyes full of curiosity for her wish. If she said anything besides the resurrection of the angels or the death of the Elysians, she would be admitting that everything she told Nyx before was a lie.

Can I really tell her what I want? She directed the question to Anhel, who hummed thoughtfully.

Can you handle getting what you want? I suspect that Nyx can give it to you, but there will be consequences, he warned.

I know. I can handle her games, whatever they are.

That’s not what I meant. Do you really want to know what you chose to come back to life for?

Daeva bristled at his question. Did he think that she was so weak that she wouldn’t be able to handle the knowledge of what she was before she became a God? She was already a murderous force of chaos. It couldn’t get worse than that.

“I wish,” she said, projecting her voice, “that I remembered what my life was like as a mortal. I want to know why I came back to life and what to do with myself. If I can’t have the angels or dead Elysians, I want to have that.”

“You can’t wish for that,” Ezra said, immediately interjecting. “It would violate your Right of Existence. We would have to banish you from this reality.”

Nyx held up a hand, stopping Ezra’s flow of words while keeping her eyes on Daeva. “Was that really so hard to say?”

Yes. If you grant my wish, I would lose all my powers and cease to become a God. My tormentors, which are in this room, would have greater influence over me. I would be living in hell again.

But Daeva doesn’t say that. Instead, she remained silent, unwilling to give Nyx the satisfaction of her admission.

Still, the Lady of the Night smiled at her as a mother would to her most disobedient child. “You don’t have to answer that. It was a rhetorical question. Your wish is true just like Haydn’s. I will grant it and the Elysians will allow you to stay in this reality so that you will have a chance to control the Board.”

“No!” Ezra marched up to her, his face red with anger. “You can’t do this.”

“I can,” Nyx said. “And you will comply. Unless you want me to take back your Board.”

The Elysian shrank away, knowing her threat was credible. Hubert pulled him away from Nyx, dragging him back to their group.

The guests in the ballroom shift restlessly, uncertain of who was in charge anymore. There was Ezra, who would’ve ordinarily been respectable and intimidating in his suit if it weren’t for his current disfigurement. Nyx was clearly the superior, uninjured with the Elysians at her beck and call.

Sabine, the long legged Elysian, turned to the guests with a flick of her dark hair. “You may retire to your homes,” she said.

When the guests don’t move, she glared at them, a menacing expression coming to her otherwise beautiful face. “You may leave, now.” Her blood red lips pressed together, daring any of the guests to disobey her.

They shuffled out of the ballroom, not daring to say a word. The Elysians seemed to maintain some level of authority over them, but with Nyx present, Daeva wondered how long that would last.

“How kind of you to clear the room,” the Lady of the Night said. “Can I trust that none of you will interfere with the Gods’ wishes?”

Daeva glanced at Ezra, who seemed like he wanted to say something. But one look at the serious expressions of his fellow Elysians closed his mouth.

“There won’t be any more trouble,” he said. “You have my word. I apologize for interrupting you before.”

Every word he uttered was painfully humiliating as if he was castrating himself with every syllable. And while Daeva had been delighted to see him suffer before, his current display of subservience to Nyx took on a more sinister edge. Maybe it was the blood on his face or the hatred in his eyes directed toward her, but her wish was beginning to seem like more than she bargained for.

“Good,” Nyx said. She placed the chessboard on the ground and closed her fists. She held her hands out to the Gods, unraveling her fingers before them. At the center of both her palms was a small, sparkly purple sphere. She gestured for Daeva and Haydn to pick up the spheres. Daeva brought her sphere to her nostrils, inhaling its sweet scent. She recognized the smell, but couldn’t seem to place it. It tugged at an old memory in her brain, most likely from the days when she had been mortal.

“Eat them,” Nyx said, “and your wishes will take effect.”

Haydn glanced at his sphere warily. “Is this candy?”

“It’s my magic. Ingest it and your desires will be carried out.” When he didn’t place the sphere into his mouth, Nyx let out an exasperated sigh. “Don’t you want to see her again?”

“More than anything,” he said. Still, he hesitated for a few seconds before finally putting the purple circle into his mouth. Daeva followed suit without protest from Anhel, feeling the sweet candy dissolve in her mouth. A more rational part of her questioned Nyx’s methods. Eating purple sweets to fulfill a wish was more fitting for a children’s fairytale, a way to get a stubborn tot to eat their medicine.

But she saw little risk in the act. She couldn’t die, even if Nyx poisoned her. Maybe she was less invincible with the Binding Chains inside her, but she was confident in her immortality.

“Come forward,” Nyx said. The Board returned to her hands, humming with magic. She commanded the Gods to place their palms on the Board so that it could “feel” their intent. Daeva surmised that the candy they had eaten was a conduit between them and the Board. There was a faint tingling sensation in her stomach as her fingers slid over the cool flat surface of the Board. The object came to life, responding to their presence by becoming warm and soft like human flesh.

This surprised her, enough to almost make her pull away. But the Board held on to her, keeping her palm glued to the surface. She tried to ignore the spike of panic building in her chest, looking to the Lady of the Night for some reassurance. But Nyx remained passive, only giving the occasional nod when she saw that the Board was doing its work.

When the Board finally released her, she found that there was a small slip of paper in her hand. She heard the crisp sound of a page flipping and saw that a similar slip lay in Haydn’s palms. They looked at each other, equally mystified.

“The Board has given both of you the first game to play,” Nyx explained. “Complete your tasks successfully and then it shall weigh your characters afterward. Let the games begin.”

With that, she exited Matthius’s body, letting the man crumple to the floor. The Board disappeared with her, leaving the Gods, the Elysians, and Uriel alone in the room.

Daeva flipped over the paper to read her first task. She grimaced before shoving the paper into a pocket of her dress. Somehow she knew she wasn’t going to enjoy any of the games that the Board gave her.

Haydn gave his slip of paper a similar look of displeasure before meeting her eyes. Neither were willing to disclose their tasks to the other.

Ironic how they came to Otherworld as allies only to be made competitors. But fate is in nobody’s control. Not even the Gods.