Page 73 of Fallen: Darkness Ascending, Vol.1
NHIALII
T he wind howls uninterrupted through the open door, whipping past us like a summons.
A heavy scent of dampened earth and vengeance permeates the room.
I take a step forward, and my legs obey.
They’re much stronger in their conviction than before, steadier in their path.
My wings twitch in anticipation, as if remembering their role in flight, even though I’ve never flown.
I can sense the instinct embedded in their core, an etching on the bones of a long forgotten memory.
“Take me to him,” I say, my voice cold and jaded.
Soriel studies me for a breath too long, as if measuring what remains of the woman I was and the creature now stirring behind my eyes. “You’re not ready,” he says gently.
I bristle at his words. “He was ready when he tore my chest open. I’ll be ready when I return the favor.”
His jaw tenses, and I can hear the faint sound of teeth grinding together.
Anger flashes across his expression. “It’s not just him anymore.
The Legion has felt your return. They’ll come for you.
” He takes a step toward me and places a hand firmly on my upper arm.
“Not to protect him, but to destroy what you’ve become.
Your very existence defies their order.”
“Good.” My response isn’t a threat, it’s a promise.
A fierce flash of lightning backlights Soriel’s silhouette. His silver wings expand fully, painting streaks of light and shadow in the small space. Mine follows without hesitation, unfurling in violent grace.
“Then let them try,” I add, stepping closer to the open door.
My bare feet touch the threshold where death once took me.
I’m standing in the drying essence of one life, and I don’t flinch.
I glance back at the corpse of the old me—splintered furniture, bloodstained floor, and the ghost of my last breath.
The silence between the broken glass and scorched tile stretches thin and taut as a noose.
It’s hard to tell where I end and the room begins.
What’s left in its place is a haunting stillness buried deep, a voiceless scream.
I should crumble under the weight of what I’ve become.
Instead, I burn. A raging inferno destined to be unchained.
Soriel stands close beside me, gaze fixed in my direction.
He says nothing, although a flicker of sorrow lingers in his eyes as if mourning the softness I no longer wear.
He was supposed to be my protector, except I don’t need a savior anymore.
My hands open and close at my sides, fingers buzzing as if they remember the shape of my killer's throat.
I break the doorway's barrier, stepping into the storm that billows outside. Its electrified air charges me like a second skin. The house behind me is no longer a home, just a tomb I clawed my way out of .
I take a few more steps outside, allowing the rain to cleanse my new existence.
I’m no longer wearing the tattered, blood-soaked clothing of death, but a textured black suit of pliable armor.
Sculpted to fit me perfectly, it extends from my neck, criss-crosses around my torso, and forms down the length of both legs.
Matching gauntlets of silver and red encase my forearms, joined to rings on each finger like forged extensions of my will.
At each thigh, a curved, blackened steel blade waits in its sheath.
These lethal weapons were made for vengeance, not ceremony.
Even my hair is no longer wild and matted with blood. It’s twisted back away from my face, braided with precision, prepared for war. Nothing about me remains soft.
Rain soaks the world outside, flooding the alley in reflections of stormlight and ruin.
The wind caresses my skin, exposing secrets only I seem to hear.
I know it’s him the moment it strikes me—his stain.
The sick imprint he left inside me, a fingerprint pressed into the hollows of my bones.
Anticipation slithers into my bloodstream, sweet and corrosive, tasting of venom, singing a lullaby of vengeance.
“There,” I say, in a voice far from my own.
Soriel appears beside me once more. His presence steadies the frenzy, except it doesn’t quell the roiling chaos inside my chest. “We’ll find him,” he promises.
I shake my head. “No.” My eyes burn with a light, “ I will.”
Mighty thunder rumbles overhead, the sky erupts, and the rain thickens. The storm parts around as my wings prepare for flight. Soriel’s follow. His are mesmerizing while mine resemble a battle soon to be won. We step further into the downpour, and it does not touch us; it parts for us.
Beyond its roar, a monster waits.
And I am the reckoning that’s coming for him.