Page 176
Story: What Blooms from Death
A horrible realization struck me. “He took both swords…the Nerithys Gate will yield to someone wielding them together, won’t it?”
“That was our thought, as well. So we visited that gate a few days ago.”
“And?”
“There were signs he’d been there. But it’s closed itself off, now, and…” She trailed off, her eyes full of uncertainties, questions she couldn’t seem to give a voice to.
But I didn’t need her to elaborate—I understood.
If he was inside the Nerithys Realm, could we even follow him?
Did we stand any chance at stopping his plans, whatever they were?
“Wait here a moment,” said Thalia, coming to a halt at the head of a small, narrow corridor. Peering down the dark passage, I saw two guards stationed at a set of double metal doors at the end, their armor glinting in the low-burning lanterns on either side of them.
Thalia walked straight to these guards, her uncertainty giving way to her usual confident stride. Her conversation with them was tense, but I couldn’t bring myself to focus on it. I was toobusy picturing horrible images of the Nerithys Gate crumbling to dust, taking all of our hope with it. Of the realm beyond that gate filling with a cold, bright light that grew farther and farther away until a final death, a final darkness, fell upon Noctaris and its people.
Thalia’s sudden reappearance startled me. The guards she’d been arguing with filed past us a moment later, taking up a new position in the distance.
“The keys,” she said, offering them to me, along with the lantern she’d been carrying. “And those guards shouldn’t bother you. But keep your wits about you—with all the extra guests and turmoil filling this palace over these past days, there’s no telling what trouble you might run into.”
Phantom fixed his softly glowing eyes in the direction of the whispering guards. (I’ll keep watch,) he assured me.
“You focus on this,” Thalia said, nodding toward the metal doors, “and I’ll work on your brother, in the meantime.”
I took the keys and lantern from her, gripping them tightly, forcing my hands not to shake. “Thank you.”
She studied me for a moment. Slowly, her hand lifted and tapped twice over her heart.
Then she was gone, leaving me to face the darkness of Aleksander’s prison alone.
Chapter Forty-Three
Aleksander
The Abyss had always beenmy least favorite punishment.
That was what the Light Keepers had called it—that small, circular room deep in the belly of Duskhaven. One we didn’t even subject most of our prisoners to, because it was considered far too cruel. We didn’t want the outside world thinking we were barbarians, after all. No; the Kingdom of Elarith was a place of light. Of learning. Of perfect order.
They’d thrown me into the Abyss more often than I liked to think about, for the slightest transgressions, and they had always acted as though they were doing me a favor by choosing this particular punishment—giving me another chance to prove my worth, they would usually claim. To see how long I could keep producing Light magic while in such a dismal, dark setting.
It had been…effective. In a sense. Because when my light went out in that place, the darkness and the cold became absolute, and so the fear of being swallowed up by those things was usually enough to keep me summoning magic far past what Ithoughtwas my limit.
Far past the point of being safe, or rational.
Sometimes, I managed to stay conscious until they came back to let me out.
Other times, I failed, and the only thing that saved me from madness was giving into unconsciousness, slipping away into a protected corner of my mind where the warmth and the light never faded.
But there was nothing quite like the horror of collapsing to try and escape the dark, only to wake up and find yourself still in it.
This was not the Abyss.
I kept reminding myself of that.
And yet.
Andyet.
“That was our thought, as well. So we visited that gate a few days ago.”
“And?”
“There were signs he’d been there. But it’s closed itself off, now, and…” She trailed off, her eyes full of uncertainties, questions she couldn’t seem to give a voice to.
But I didn’t need her to elaborate—I understood.
If he was inside the Nerithys Realm, could we even follow him?
Did we stand any chance at stopping his plans, whatever they were?
“Wait here a moment,” said Thalia, coming to a halt at the head of a small, narrow corridor. Peering down the dark passage, I saw two guards stationed at a set of double metal doors at the end, their armor glinting in the low-burning lanterns on either side of them.
Thalia walked straight to these guards, her uncertainty giving way to her usual confident stride. Her conversation with them was tense, but I couldn’t bring myself to focus on it. I was toobusy picturing horrible images of the Nerithys Gate crumbling to dust, taking all of our hope with it. Of the realm beyond that gate filling with a cold, bright light that grew farther and farther away until a final death, a final darkness, fell upon Noctaris and its people.
Thalia’s sudden reappearance startled me. The guards she’d been arguing with filed past us a moment later, taking up a new position in the distance.
“The keys,” she said, offering them to me, along with the lantern she’d been carrying. “And those guards shouldn’t bother you. But keep your wits about you—with all the extra guests and turmoil filling this palace over these past days, there’s no telling what trouble you might run into.”
Phantom fixed his softly glowing eyes in the direction of the whispering guards. (I’ll keep watch,) he assured me.
“You focus on this,” Thalia said, nodding toward the metal doors, “and I’ll work on your brother, in the meantime.”
I took the keys and lantern from her, gripping them tightly, forcing my hands not to shake. “Thank you.”
She studied me for a moment. Slowly, her hand lifted and tapped twice over her heart.
Then she was gone, leaving me to face the darkness of Aleksander’s prison alone.
Chapter Forty-Three
Aleksander
The Abyss had always beenmy least favorite punishment.
That was what the Light Keepers had called it—that small, circular room deep in the belly of Duskhaven. One we didn’t even subject most of our prisoners to, because it was considered far too cruel. We didn’t want the outside world thinking we were barbarians, after all. No; the Kingdom of Elarith was a place of light. Of learning. Of perfect order.
They’d thrown me into the Abyss more often than I liked to think about, for the slightest transgressions, and they had always acted as though they were doing me a favor by choosing this particular punishment—giving me another chance to prove my worth, they would usually claim. To see how long I could keep producing Light magic while in such a dismal, dark setting.
It had been…effective. In a sense. Because when my light went out in that place, the darkness and the cold became absolute, and so the fear of being swallowed up by those things was usually enough to keep me summoning magic far past what Ithoughtwas my limit.
Far past the point of being safe, or rational.
Sometimes, I managed to stay conscious until they came back to let me out.
Other times, I failed, and the only thing that saved me from madness was giving into unconsciousness, slipping away into a protected corner of my mind where the warmth and the light never faded.
But there was nothing quite like the horror of collapsing to try and escape the dark, only to wake up and find yourself still in it.
This was not the Abyss.
I kept reminding myself of that.
And yet.
Andyet.
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