Page 37 of Darkness Births the Stars #1

CHAPTER

THE GOLDEN DAYS OF LYRHEIM,

Noctis

I didn’t try to kill her the first time we ventured into the Other together. Or the second. Or the third.

I told myself it was cunning that made me bide my time.

Even Aramaz, with his unending capacity to forgive me, would be hard-pressed to forget the murder of his bride.

I had to ensure there would be no suspicion, that everyone would believe it was a tragic accident.

Yet, I had to admit, that for some unexplainable reason, I began to appreciate Baradaz’s company.

Her visits to my tower, all bright silver eyes and insolent smile.

Our reckless excursions. The two of us in spirit form, racing through the endless darkness of the Other, side by side, following every flicker of light to find something new and exciting.

At first, Baradaz was tentative, staying close to me.

But soon, she rivaled me in daring, undaunted by the storms of lightning and magic that swept through the Other without warning, or by the Abyss, the deepest and darkest part of this place that held danger even for our kind.

Contrary to the first impression, the Other was not empty.

It was teeming with life—chaotic, untamed, sometimes horrendous, yet often achingly beautiful.

And never as ordered and perfect as the creations that the Allfather had envisioned for Aron-Lyr.

Whenever we encountered something captivating, we assumed corporeal forms. Physical bodies allowed us to fully experience everything, both of us enjoying the opportunity to share our thoughts out loud.

Much to my surprise, Baradaz met it all with overflowing excitement, her wild laugh ringing out again and again, her eyes shining with hunger for more, ever more, her spirit thrumming with an oddly endearing eagerness.

If I was honest with myself, I liked venturing into the Other with her more than without her after some time.

Sharing these experiences with her, not being alone for once…

It was nice. She challenged me. Always asking questions, always disputing my opinion on things, goading me to venture further.

I no longer wondered why Baradaz had captivated my brother so.

Sometimes, when she looked at me, her lip would curl slightly, revealing a hint of a playful smile, and I found myself almost tempted to lean in closer and…

A foolish thought, really.

She was not like the others. A brightly burning flame among dim, flickering lights.

A pity she had to die.

The perfect opportunity to kill her presented itself on a day that began like many others.

We had returned to the Other, determined to uncover the secret behind the spider-like creatures plaguing Aron-Lyr.

Our brethren were filled with unease, fearing our Maker’s plans had been thwarted.

I found the proof of the Allfather’s fallibility rather amusing.

Still, I could not deny my own curiosity.

Baradaz and I floated on the turbulent currents of magic and darkness, sometimes chasing each other, sometimes drifting lazily, until something caught our eye—a splash of red, vivid in the endless monotony of the Other.

Baradaz was beside it in moments, her fiery hair rivaling the beautiful flower she bent over in her corporeal form.

Her flowy white dress fluttered in an invisible breeze, nearly glowing amid the shadows, delicate golden embroidery around her waist and cleavage emphasizing her feminine curves.

A little squeal escaped her when the dark red petals of the flower snapped at her curious fingers, exposing sharp, previously hidden barbs.

“How ingenious,” she said, already laughing again. “Drawing in prey with its beauty only to devour it.” She glanced at me, her eyes twinkling. “What do you think it hunts?”

“The careless,” I answered absentmindedly, my gaze on the dark horizon.

A sudden heaviness had filled the air, the first warning of an incoming storm.

“We need to leave soon,” I said to Baradaz, stepping a few paces away.

My eyes narrowed as lightning struck too close for comfort, unfettered magic sizzling around us, tinged with the distinctive amethyst and emerald of Chaos.

Despite all the time I’d spent in the Other, I had yet to discover a method to control its wild power.

“Just one more moment.” Baradaz was still concentrating on the flower, oblivious to the encroaching danger.

“Baradaz!” My voice was sharp as I tried to get her attention.

Too late.

The magic struck with merciless speed. A growling wave of Chaos and Darkness rolled over us with unrelenting force.

Acting on pure instinct forged from previous encounters with such storms, I transformed my hands into claws, plunging them deep into the ground to secure my stance.

Baradaz barely had time to cry out before the storm picked her up, her red hair and white dress fluttering wildly.

In her panic, she shifted back into her spirit form to escape.

It was the worst thing she could have done. Her powers were caught in the chaotic miasma of the magic tempest, rendering her helpless as she was whisked away at breakneck speed. Toward the looming darkness of the Abyss.

I tore after her without thought, first on all-too-slow mortal legs, then, with a frustrated snarl, in spirit form despite the danger, horror pounding through me.

“Shift!” I sent to her mind repeatedly, receiving no answer but paralyzing fear and terror. “Curse it, you have to shift!”

Somehow, she must have heard me, because she was falling, falling toward the Abyss in a blur of red and white, her scream piercing the storm’s wild cacophony.

I crashed back into my physical form, one hand grabbing the jagged black stone at the Abyss’s edge, ignoring how it cut into my flesh.

My other hand reached desperately for Baradaz.

By some divine mercy, it was just enough.

My fingers closed around hers, bringing her to a jarring halt.

I strained against the force of the dark vortex beneath her, which threatened to pull her in.

Though I didn’t know what the Abyss truly was, I was certain of one thing: nothing could exist in there.

Its power was vast and uncontrollable, capable of dissolving even beings like us into nothingness, returning us to the beginning of creation.

Her hand began to slip from mine. Our eyes met, hers wild and filled with fear.

I realized I only had to do nothing. Do nothing, and she would be gone forever.

I would be free of her.

“Please.” It was a mere whisper, echoing through my mind endlessly, her gaze never leaving mine, a single tear trailing down her cheek.

I couldn’t let go. Why could I not let go ?

The Abyss pulled at her again, threatening to wrench her from my grasp.

With a thought, my hands elongated into claws again, one burying into the rock overhead, the other sinking into soft flesh.

The air was thick with the coppery scent of Baradaz’s blood, her face contorted in agony, but her downward momentum finally halted.

Ignoring her pained whimper, I lifted her up to me with one powerful pull.

She was safe. The storm raged on as she threw herself into my arms with a strangled sob.

Baradaz might have taught me to hate. But I taught her to fear.

Her silvery eyes were wide, her breath quick and shallow, a delectable tremble wracking her body as she clung to me. Her power bloomed to life, healing her hand. My arms around her were the only solid thing in the maelstrom of darkness, a cruel mockery of comfort.

I had nearly destroyed her, nearly extinguished her light forever.

It was what I had wanted, what I had planned—but now, so close to my goal, the thought of her gone from Aron-Lyr filled me with paralyzing terror.

I held her tightly, my breathing as affected as hers, as if letting go would mean losing her for all eternity.

I never knew who moved first—if she tilted her face up to find my lips or if I bent my head to claim hers. (It was always me who bent, but I needed at least some illusions to preserve my pride.)

I was drawn to her like some pitiful, lonely creature seeking the fire’s glow on a dark night, uncaring that it would devour me. One breathless moment of anticipation between us. Of swirling shadows, flickering lights, and mounting need.

And then her lips met mine.

I drowned. In the way I conquered her mouth thoroughly, each movement precise and passionate, exploring every minuscule part of her.

Her taste overwhelmed my senses, sweet and sharp, utterly addictive.

Our tongues tangled as she met my fervor with equal fierceness, our teeth scraping against each other.

I forgot it all—my hate for her, my anger at my brother, my plan to dispose of her, the storm that had calmed around us. I existed only in this moment, in her touch.

“Get out of your clothes.” Her fervent order sounded in my head, or perhaps in the heated air between our lips.

Baradaz stepped back, her breath unsteady, her body trembling for very different reasons now.

Her gaze was calm, though, as she divested me of my clothes, as she shed her own like a last line of defense, leaving her light-filled skin bare and gleaming, as she pulled me down on top of her, my hands reaching for her eagerly.

The ground was covered in a dark, clinging mud this close to the Abyss, empty of everything but the potential to become something.

Later, I was slightly disgusted by it all.

How we lost control, fornicating in that mud like some base animals, clawing and biting at each other in a mad frenzy, completely consumed by the burning need to feel alive, to merge our very beings until there was no telling where one ended and the other began.

But then it was glorious.