Page 105 of Darkness Births the Stars #1

“Well, I heard she tortured him for moons before he gave in, so that might soothe the pain of betrayal a little.” Deira shrugged.

“Asiza used the Crown to bend Galator to her will. They are preparing for war. It does not matter, though. You taught me better than to rely on the Crown, my lord. It is nothing more than a tool, albeit a powerful one.”

So that was why the Chiasma suddenly had command over so many Rakash.

An involuntary shiver ran through me as the dagger’s edge broke my skin, blood beading down my chest like a macabre string of pearls.

It was a shallow cut, not particularly painful, but I could feel the malevolent pull of Deira’s magic through it, reaching inside me, twisting.

She smiled as I groaned in discomfort. “Chaos may be a fickle mistress, but even her power abides by certain rules. Chaos needs an Adept in this world. If the connection is already established, when you die, I am confident it will transfer to me. The Abyss will give me what I need to wield its power.”

She was utterly insane. Horror coursed through me as the black roots binding me shifted, sprouting small tendrils.

They slithered over my flesh like repulsive little worms, drawn by the promise of blood and magic.

A searing pain shot through me as they bit into my skin, burrowing into my chest. I shuddered, recalling how Deira’s roots had once torn her enemies apart.

“It won’t work,” I gasped, unable to conceal my rising panic. “Have you not listened to a word I said? They stripped me of all my abilities. I cannot draw even a small amount of magic without the aid of a lyr -stone.”

“Oh, it will kill you, of course. Painfully, I suspect,” Deira answered, no compassion in her voice.

“But while you cannot wield the power, it is still drawn to you, can still be channeled through you.” A cruel sneer bared her teeth.

“Quite poetic, isn’t it? You caused our downfall without us having any say in it.

Now you will give us power without it being your choice. ”

Before I could respond, her head snapped toward the Abyss.

“Kaius,” she called. “I need you here.”

The tall, solemn Chiasma reacted immediately, striding over. His long face remained expressionless as Deira gestured to my bleeding chest.

“Draw the magic,” she commanded. “But carefully. We must ensure he cannot take hold of it. ”

Icy dread flashed through me as she relinquished her place to her lover, positioning herself between my head and the Abyss. Of all my former servants, these were the worst possible hands I could have fallen into.

Deira raised her dagger high, my blood coating the blade, gleaming in the glow of the Chaos magic that began to swirl around us. Kaius lowered his own dagger to the wound. The roots eagerly dug into my flesh as he widened the cut. My stomach churned, a groan escaping me against my will.

I swore to myself I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of hearing me scream—a promise I soon had to break.

Agony drowned all my senses as Kaius channeled Chaos magic through me into Deira. The searing pain made me thrash in vain against my bonds, like a trapped animal.

I screamed. Over and over, until my voice gave out, until dark spots danced before my eyes, until I could no longer remember what it felt like to be free of this anguish.

Yet there was no mercy. Not from unconsciousness, nor from my captors.

The dagger in Deira’s hands gleamed above me like a blazing star, her face alight with triumphant glee at the torrent of magic flowing into her.

She had probably been right. With the strands of her Earth and Chaos magic buried inside me, the power of the Adept would likely transfer to her the moment I died.

There was a great chance it would burn her out and then rage free, causing terrible destruction once more, but I would never know, because…

Because I would die here.

The realization forced a bitter laugh from me, tasting of blood. I must have bitten my lip. This was the third time I had come close to death in this place. Third time’s the charm, right?

Last time, my brother had spared me, his blue eyes filled with endless sorrow.

So different from Kaius’s emotionless gaze.

I always wondered if Aramaz let me go on a whim or if he had planned it all.

Now I would never know. The dagger sank deeper, cutting into my flesh, more blood spilling forth in a deep red flood.

Not the stars, I wanted to plead, as the blade came dangerously close to the elegant lines etched into my skin. Don’t take the stars from me. But my voice was gone, stolen by another surge of magic and pain.

“It is time,” Deira cried out above me.

Chaos raged through my veins, burning like an inferno. My body convulsed, ravaged by an amount of magic that was too much to be contained by any mortal flesh. Kaius pressed his hand against my chest to keep me down, his eyes gleaming with a vicious light as he raised the dagger once more.

“Time to say goodbye, Master,” he sneered. The magic erupted around us, bursts of Chaos raining down in a relentless torrent.

One last thought flashed through my mind: Baradaz. I had lied to her. Those stolen moments had never been enough. I wanted more. I had always wanted it all, and…

Kaius gasped. His dark eyes widened in surprise.

The violent drain of magic tearing me apart suddenly halted.

The dark-haired Chiasma coughed, blood dripping from his chin. My gaze dropped, catching the gleam of steel—the tip of a curved blade that had erupted from the left side of his chest. A blade I knew well, for I had forged it millennia ago.

Starfire.

The staff glowed with white fire as Rada heaved the dying Chiasma aside. But it was nothing compared to the wild rage in her eyes as her gaze swept over me and settled on Deira.

“No one,” she growled, “touches what is mine. ”

A smile tugged at my lips. Oh, she was glorious. My beautiful goddess of battle, here to destroy those who dared to challenge her.

She came, my heart sang. She came for me.

Unfortunately, my triumphant delight was short-lived. Deira reacted instantly. The roots binding me tightened their grip. One thick root coiled around my neck, a clear threat. A choked cry escaped my lips and halted Rada’s advance.

“Let him go, Deira,” she commanded, her voice deceptively calm.

The Chiasma’s face contorted with rage. “I should have known you would come, Lady of Light,” she hissed. “So eager to die alongside your lover?”

Rada stepped closer, her weapon trained on the Dryad. Her lip twitched as she glanced briefly at Kaius’s corpse at her feet. “From where I’m standing, it won’t be us who die today.”

“Perhaps I should kill him quickly, then,” Deira answered, painfully twisting her hand into my hair as she dragged me closer to shield herself. “A lover for a lover.”

Rada froze. Worry flashed across her face. She quickly masked it, her gaze calculating. I recognized that sharp, focused look in her eyes. She was waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

“I doubt his death means much to you. Besides, you won’t risk losing your hold on the magic. Not when you’ve come this far.”

The roots tightened with their mistress’s agitation, their tendrils burrowing deeper into my chest, forcing a pained cry from my lips. Deira laughed. “Oh, but I already have all the power I need.”

More roots erupted from the dark earth around us, writhing like tentacles, her Earth magic intertwining with the Chaos magic of the Other.

“Your pretty little staff will not be enough to stop me,” the Dryad screamed at Rada, her roots lashing out like a row of deadly spears. “I am not afraid of your powers. You cannot defeat me.” Deira yanked my head back. My vision dimmed. “You cannot save him.”

The Chiasma loomed over me like a giant spider over its hapless prey, ready to tear me open and devour what was left of me—my blood, my power.

Only one light remained, the only thing I could see: my queen.

Starfire blazed in her hands as she moved between the grasping roots in a mesmerizing dance of violence and grace.

But it was not enough. For every root she severed with her sharp blade, a new one burst forth, slowly caging her in as the light of her lyr -stone grew fainter and fainter.

She stumbled, her left leg giving out under her.

A desperate groan escaped me, one last plea of her name, as the first root landed a glancing blow on her arm, red blossoming on the white fabric of her blouse.

Somehow, she heard me, through the hissing roots, through the terrifying roar of unleashed magic.

Our eyes met.

I would never have asked her to save my life, but I would always demand that she do everything to preserve her own. She froze, Starfire held high, unmoving for what felt like an eternity as the roots crept closer.

Deira’s gleeful shriek echoed in my ears as she prepared for a final strike.

Rada’s hands shifted on Starfire. The metal around the handle rotated, revealing a second lyr -stone embedded beneath the first. It glowed not with the power of the Lady of Light, but with my essence.

The essence of its creator—Darkness and Chaos.

I had added it to the bladed staff when I forged it all those millennia ago.

A desperate attempt to give her access to enough power to protect her against any threat, even against myself.

As far as I knew, she had never used it during all that time.

The untamed magic of the Other flowed to Rada as if it had been waiting for her call, swirling around her in a tempest of shadows and Chaos-streaked lightning. Her fiery hair twisted in the storm, her eyes blazing with a dark flame. She looked deadly. And utterly beautiful.

“You have no idea what I am capable of,” she told Deira, her voice sizzling with barely contained power.