Page 80
Story: Princess of Death
Cried so loud it sounded like a scream.
Being the merciful god that I was, I gave her the moment to grieve.
It took minutes for her to calm, to let her tears run dry like the rocks under the desert.
“It’s time.” I came to her side, casting a shadow over the grave.
She didn’t flinch, either because she knew I was there or didn’t care.
With her shoulders slumped and her head bowed, it was like she hadn’t heard what I said.
“Are you ready?”
Her eyes remained on the writing on the stone, her husband’s name and the years that he had lived. They had been married for fifty years before he’d passed away in his late seventies. He’d grown old, but she’d remained forever preserved in a youth that she paid dearly for.
She’d come to the dead forest and sought my audience. She’d been born with a horrible scar on her face and hadn’t been blessed by beauty’s charm like the other girls her age. She had her eyes on one man, but because of her uncomely appearance, she was ignored. Barely an adult, she asked me to make her beautiful, to be preserved that way like a block of ice on the mountain tops.
Her lifetime had passed in the blink of an eye, and now it was time to pay for what she’d bought.
“I warned you not to take this deal, Lacey.” Now, she would spend an eternity in the underworld—and never join her husband in the Realm of Caelum. Their love had never been real anyway, not if she had to change her entire appearance to earn his affection.
“I have no regrets.”
That was about to change.
I moved in front of her and placed my hand upon her chest. I felt the energy leave my palm and heat her flesh. Felt her soul rip from her body. And then we were in the underworld at the funnel.
I watched her body slowly float down in the mist until she hovered above the rock.
The monsters moved forth and dragged her to the ground.
Her eyes opened at their touch, and that was the moment she understood.
“Ah!” She looked around frantically at the monsters that grabbed her and shackled her wrists and ankles. They forced her forward toward the castle to be locked below. Her soul was to be harvested and fed to the Covenant.
I didn’t watch her go.
Whether my customers were good or evil, I took no pleasure in making the deals I discouraged them from agreeing to.
Cecilia came to my side, dressed in all black, thick, dark hair brushed back from her face. “What wish did you grant her?” She turned and watched Lacey be taken away, arms crossed over her chest, her dark eyes reflecting the torches that burned forevermore.
“Eternal beauty.”
She turned back to me, shifting her body until she was directly before me. “A soul is an immense cost for something so trivial.”
I spent more time telling victims not to take my deals than offering them. It made no difference. They were focused on power, revenge, or beauty…whatever it might be. They wantedtheir request granted there on the spot and didn’t think about the consequences that would come later. “I echoed that sentiment.”
She looked me over, her eyes practically hands that gripped me. She drew close, her fingers reaching for my forearm. “Unburden yourself with me.” She traced up my arm to feel the different muscles as she came closer to my shoulder. “Or in me…”
My eyes flicked away from hers. “I have obligations that require my attention.”
“Really?” she asked playfully. “Sounds like an excuse to me.”
It was an excuse. Cecilia was beautiful, but she served the Covenant—not as a requirement because of her servitude, but because she wanted to. There was a cult of mortals who had worshipped Bahamut for centuries, and she was among them. She’d asked to join the underworld and serve Bahamut and, once he was gone, me. She was dead, but unlike most of the residents in this dark place, she had a soul. It didn’t seem like she’d ever come to regret her decision, perfectly adapting to the suffocating darkness, enthralled by monsters and demons rather than afraid.
She was worse than the demons she revered.
I’d slept with her several times, but it was just a means to an end, a tonic for loneliness. It scratched the itch, but then it festered like a raw wound, and I felt dirty as if beset by an infection. My wife had been gone for so long and had bedded my brother like I didn’t exist, so I felt no commitment to her.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 44
- Page 45
- Page 46
- Page 47
- Page 48
- Page 49
- Page 50
- Page 51
- Page 52
- Page 53
- Page 54
- Page 55
- Page 56
- Page 57
- Page 58
- Page 59
- Page 60
- Page 61
- Page 62
- Page 63
- Page 64
- Page 65
- Page 66
- Page 67
- Page 68
- Page 69
- Page 70
- Page 71
- Page 72
- Page 73
- Page 74
- Page 75
- Page 76
- Page 77
- Page 78
- Page 79
- Page 80 (Reading here)
- Page 81
- Page 82
- Page 83
- Page 84
- Page 85
- Page 86
- Page 87
- Page 88
- Page 89
- Page 90
- Page 91
- Page 92
- Page 93
- Page 94
- Page 95
- Page 96
- Page 97
- Page 98
- Page 99
- Page 100
- Page 101
- Page 102