Page 62
Story: A Game of Monsters
Duncan’s hand movement paused. “You understand that Altar kept the keys to my imprisoned state for his future gain, but why do the Creator’s children vow to protect them? Because they knew, in time, they would need me too.”
It was unsaid, but I knew Duwar spoke of the Nephilim.
“For what, the destruction of the world as we know it?” I bristled, longing to pull away but not daring to make the slightest movement. Because something in what Duncan had just said struck true.
WhydidAltar make keys?
Duwar dove into my mind, took the question I thought and answered it.
“I have pondered why myself, during my time kept away. I can imagine they knew there was something I could offer them, like the power they fought over in the first place. A power only I had access to. Perhaps even a fresh start, if required. I am all but a tool to use. Either accept that, or maybe another will in your place.”
“I hear the threat in your words,” I accused, no longer wanting to play this game of pretend. I pushed upwards and swung my legs over the bed, ready to leave this dreamscape.
“Was it not you who said that you do not threaten, Robin Icethorn. Only promise?”
I turned back to look at the body on the bed, to find the soft face of Duncan staring up at me with tired, verdant eyes. It looked like him, sounded like him. Even as his fingers brushed my bare skin, it felt as much like Duncan as he always had.
“Trust no one,” he said, a glint of what looked like sadness in his eyes.
“Including you?” I asked.
His smile was sheepish, flickering at the corners of his mouth. The small vision of the real Duncan faded as fast as it came. “Everyone has something they want in this world. A motive. The same goes for the game of gods. Altar and the Creator both desired power, enough of it that it started a war between monsters. Altar stole me from my peace, used me and then discarded me. The Creator went to war over me. And yet, they still kept a tether to me, just in case the game changed, and I was required.”
“I have no wish to be a pawn for you to use. I’m not like the gods.”
“But you could be,” Duwar said, pouting subtly. “If you accept me – when you accept this power, you could be greater than any god the realms have seen before.”
“I wish I could trust you,” I said, eyes burning with the promise of more tears. “But I have seen what you are capable of.”
“And you only focus on the pain I have been used to cause, not the beauty of life that I showed you I could achieve–”
A scene flashed in the dark of my mind. Of vines and roots sprouting out of cold, dead earth, wrapping around the ruins of my castle. How they crept over stone, covering the ruin left behind in flowers so vibrant it took my breath away.
“Convenient tricks,” I said. “A rose is beautiful, but it still has thorns.”
“And yet it is still beautiful, as you said.” Duncan pouted, his stomach flexing with far too many muscles to count. “Robin, even Altar knew my capabilities and used me to make his beloved children. The Creator was jealous. Ask yourself, will you be the one to use my power to create a paradise, or will your hesitance allow for other hands to take me?”
Slowly, Duncan leaned back with his arms behind his head and closed his eyes, peaceful.
“There will be no other hands that ever get the chance to touch you,” I said.
“Are you sure?”
Although I knew my answer, I still shot Duncan a look, knowing the monster under his skin was watching. “You’ll just have to wait a couple more days to find out.”
As I rested my feet on the floor, I banished myself from the dream.
I came to, thrusting up out of the bath my sleeping body had fully slipped beneath. Coughing up water, I clutched the side of the tub for support, willing myself to steady my breathing. All the while, I heard the echo of Duwar’s reply in my mind, as clear as day.
“I only hope you have the days to spare.”
CHAPTER 16
I longed to compliment Erix on how he looked, but the words turned to ash on my tongue. After what I’d done in the bath, followed by the interaction with Duncan, I could hardly breathe around him let alone speak.
Duwar was playing with me like a dog with a bone, chewing and gnawing until I was nothing but a husk. And it was working, quicker than I cared to admit.
Instead of looking ahead at the ballroom – the marble floor glittering like an ocean of white which caught the glow of the countless burning sconces, displays of white and red roses, music swelling up the large stone walls which reverberated the delicate tune – I stared at Erix’s profile.
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