Page 9

It had been centuries since the mere sight of a building bred contempt inside of me. In the life before my turn, that contempt came in the form of picturesque royal architecture that hid monsters behind gold and valor. It had been beautiful, like a nightshade that bore thorns and wore the petals of a rose to fool curious passersby.

If I ever were to set foot in Darius's estate again, I'd rip it apart. Tear it down, brick by brick, even if it might lead to my death to do so. I'd have sworn I'd never hate a place more than those wretched halls, but nothing could have prepared me for the rage that flooded me when Nero and I finally came to a stop in front of a desolate building deep in the depths of the woods, after hours of endless flitting . The seemingly harmless building was shaded by the surrounding trees, the dusty white paint dirtied from months of neglect. I knew what hatred was, but this was something that flew beyond my thoughts of the word.

Darius had destroyed me in ways I'd thought nothing else would, but seeing this place now, the one I knew had held Aaliyah and left those shadows in her eyes. That carnage ran to the deepest parts of my soul, found the bits that weren't already broken and shattered them.

My muscles screamed, every inch of me pushed too far as we raced to get here. We'd left as soon as we were able, and we'd barely made it before the sunrise. We had maybe a half hour, at most, and I hadn't even thought of how we might get back yet.

I didn't have the spare mindset to focus on such trivial things. Our escape route could be decided later. The need to get here before Sebek could move on was paramount. Doing anything else, and we risked losing them. Losing her.

The only thing that kept me standing was the fact that Nero was by my side. He didn't look on with the same wretched confusion.

"Is this truly Ascension Rising?" I asked, needing to hear the words out loud.

I trained my ears on the building and heard nothing inside.

"It was," Nero said, hard lines tracing his once carefree face.

The man that I'd grown to know as Nero didn't show in this stranger's eyes. There was darkness there now, a dread that stalked the silver depths. Nero had never been one to back down from a fight, not in the centuries that I'd known him.

And he never lost.

It was viscerally wrong when he dipped his head, looking beaten as he took a defeated step forward. He'd been the glue that'd held us together, the one who could always pull us back when things spiraled.

Had the Nero I'd known better than myself been lost on that pyre in Russia?

"The beast again lies barren," Magelav mumbled, somehow not out of breath after having followed us.

I hadn't seen the Chronomancer since the early sixteenth century, during one of our feuds in China. At that time, their disguise had been a beautiful woman parading the streets, working for a pleasure house. The time before that they'd been a striking pirate, a man feared as much as respected. This was the first time I'd ever seen them like this, looking so aged and worn, with heavily wrinkled skin and eyes that spoke to their age.

"You're wrong," Nero grunted, flipping his head to glare at Magelav, the heated rage only growing as he turned back to the building. He looked on as if the pitiful structure held every sin he'd ever committed, and even if it were to be burned to the ground, he wouldn't be free of it. "No, you're wrong. She has to be here."

Magelav didn't react to the frothing beast that Nero morphed into, their eyes holding a steady disinterest that felt all too familiar. The sight of them made me sick, as it had every time before. Their relation to Kali was enough to fuel my hatred for them, but I ignored it, for now. As long as they offered help in finding Aaliyah, I would tolerate their presence, and their cryptic words so far had been at least productive, leading us here. Even as they grumbled their insistence that we needed to leave for Kri'Valta's Gala.

It was only hours away now, our one chance to defeat the Horror of the Depths before the Eternium. Before all our work was lost.

"The magic is fresh, too fresh. Tastes wrong. Gone . As Mags said it would be." Magelav narrowed their eyes as they stepped forward and continued to mumble incoherently. We were given no more explanation as they hobbled toward the white building, leaving Nero and I behind.

Rising failure crippled me, and a blistering rage threatened to consume me.

Sebek had taken Aaliyah, my light— lux mea— right out from under me, and now he was well and truly gone.

We followed slowly after Magelav, eyeing the fresh tracks on the ground. The door opened to the smell of antiseptic and rotting flesh, so pungent it curdled in my nose and made me gag.

I followed Nero anyway as he stalked in front of me, trailing after Magelav through a dimly lit hallway that was splattered with dried blood. Followed him as we approached a room that held the brunt of it, and horror greeted us both.

A shiver of disgust coiled in my stomach, demanding I release it. The room was clinical and open, with drab white paint peeling where blood had splattered. Various pieces of equipment were strewn about, most destroyed beyond recognition, like the bodies that littered the ground. The state they were in proved Sebek had been the one to kill them. He liked his tricks, his torture.

Enjoyed making them rip themselves apart, before going in for the kill.

Only one body differed, one that was crumpled to the ground with no outward signs of damage. There was a heavy scent of old stone that gave him away. Gargoyle, bound at the hands. He told me exactly what I hadn't wanted to be true.

Aaliyah had been here.

His body held traces of her blood, the crisp lavender likely what had ended his life. Why? I never knew, not with Sebek. It could have been an experiment, a test, or even just something he did for the fun of it, to draw our attention away while he did other horrid things.

But what stood out wasn't the bodies or the lingering hint of magic in the air. It wasn't the realization Magelav was right, that Sebek and Aaliyah were long gone, a spell the only indication they'd been here.

It was the table that lay in the middle like a sick altar, the metallic sheen stained a rusty brown that still held onto a scent I'd never forget. Lavender . Most of it was stagnant, having sunk into the steel through years of use. It had shackles for the wrists and ankles, and another strap to hold someone's head down. So they couldn't fight.

So Aaliyah couldn't fight.

She'd told us of her horrors, of the doctors and of the experiments that had defined her early life, but seeing it? Suddenly, everything burned, from my blood to the mark on my wrist. The singular lavender band was a beacon.

"This was where they did the experiments," I said, under my breath, committing the table to memory, needing it to hurt so I'd never forget it.

Nero didn't hesitate, his eyes closing as he reached up and ran a hand through his hair as he spoke, "Yeah, most of them. The more intensive ones, anyway. There's another room down the hall where they liked to do smaller scale tests."

He reached out, touching the table before his hand tensed, and he dug gouges into the metal. A spark lit in the air seconds later, tasting like fire, before it turned molten under his hand.

"What did they do?" I asked.

I hadn't wanted to ask Aaliyah, didn't want her to have to relive it. At first, I didn't think Nero would tell me—he'd always been the protective sort—but he leveled me with a fury-filled gaze, one that sizzled like the steel that had dripped onto the floor.

"What didn't they do? Electrocution. Fracture resistance. Regeneration. Amputation. And that's just what I've remembered since I woke up." He grunted, pulling away, flexing his hand where the metal stuck and burned him. "Everything. They did everything while I stood by and watched ."

Magelav mumbled something across the room, suddenly throwing a chair and crawling onto the ground with the muck. Nero rolled his eyes at them, brushing his hand on his shirt. That look as he grimaced. I recognized it.

Had this been what the others had seen? When I'd worried over Nero's death and questioned what I could have done differently.

Nero walked in front of me, cutting off our eye contact as he stalked farther in. He didn't look surprised by the sight as he homed in on one of the many bodies. The corpse he selected was in pieces, the skull mostly picked clean, lying on the ground, missing its bottom jaw.

"Well, you've seen better days," he said, eyeing it like he wished the man was still alive, if only to kill him again. One swift kick later, and he was watching with glee as it shattered against the far wall. "Sebek's handiwork really is something, isn't it? Fucker didn't even give me the satisfaction of getting to kill Castillion myself."

The empty room held no hint of relief, and the silence only grew louder as Nero's breath became audible. Both hands came to his hair, and he pulled viciously at the strands.

"You couldn't have done anything, Nero. You cannot blame yourself for this," I whispered, trying and failing to bury my own guilt.

"Couldn't I? I could've gotten here faster, remembered the bastard that did this and found you before it happened." He gritted his teeth. "I shouldn't have been dead. Then maybe I could have saved her, instead of being just another fuck-up in her life."

"We never would have found her, had you not been by her side. She wouldn't be Aaliyah if not for you. Stop thinking of the past. It only burns you," I said evenly. "I've spent the last hundred years toiling over your death, and you know what I've learned?"

Nero's eyes cleared enough for me to catch that Roman fire, and even then, I fought to find him there, his past, his life. I fought to find the brother who'd traveled with me through lifetimes, but this was a different man. The same in many ways but changed in many as well. He was Nero, my brother.

And he was Aaliyah's Prince.

"The past doesn't control us. We do. Anything less is an insult to the lives we were given. Aaliyah taught me that." And so much more.

She'd snuck into the cracks that Nero's death had caused, like liquid gold, mending the pieces of me until I was almost whole again. She'd filled me with something other than loathing and rage, and now I had Nero back. The man I'd seen do the impossible more times than I could ever count. She may not be here, but we would find her. Sebek wouldn't risk harming her, not if he had plans for her blood, and he'd been distraught, thrown off by her appearance, no doubt. Perhaps even more likely to misstep due to her connection to Arvand. We had the upper hand. Now we just needed to get her and the others.

Get through this damned Eternium and go home . So we could live . Something I hadn't wanted for decades. I wanted to see her flourish with us, see her smile, and teach her everything she wanted to know. Give her every book she wanted to read, spend every hour I could with her, curled up in the library, enjoy the feel of her in my arms.

To feel her touch , the one she gave me freely, the one I'd treasure.

"She's changed you, Osiris," Nero whispered suddenly. His eyebrows drew close before he rubbed away the growing tension. "Everything I've seen of you, every piece of information I've gotten back, has shown you as cold. Cruel, even. That's not you anymore. Is it?"

I only nodded as Magelav crawled their way off the ground.

"She has," I agreed and turned just in time to watch Magelav lick the wall. They glowered at it, running aged fingers along the peeled paint, before they turned to face me. "I take it you know what they used to leave here? How can we follow?"

Magelav scoffed, brushing me off to study the wall again. "Oh, now you want to work with Mags, you silly, silly boy? Where are your manners?"

Nero set a hand on my shoulder, as if sensing my wrath and seeking to quell it. A move that most people wouldn't have dreamed of doing, he did without hesitation. His touch didn't burn. It hadn't for centuries, but that didn't stop me from jolting at it. It was only a moment before that touch settled me, and he snickered. "Trust me, they don't get any easier to deal with."

Magelav chuckled then, when suddenly their magic was in the air, tastable. It was like freshly washed silk, and the brush of a breeze from a time long passed. It threatened to drown me with the endless flow of time. "Oh, calm yourselves. Magelav is here to help. Here to teach ."

It was that word that made the power drop, landing on my shoulders. I expected the weight to fall to my wrist, but instead the ache was soul deep in a way that my blood knew. It was a pain that shredded my insides and threatened to come out in vile waves.

It was the pain of loss .

"But Mags is not your only teacher. Are they?" Magelav asked as I stumbled away, slamming into a wall as I covered my mouth. Nero was much the same, curled up against the closest counter, holding his chest like his heart might try to leave it.

As soon as it started, it snapped to a stop, and that at least helped to calm me.

That was a pain I'd felt only once before. When Nero had died. It had lasted for days then. Whatever happened wasn't one of our brothers dying yet, but they were close to it, hovering over death's door, knocking at the gates. My mouth flooded with salt, like I'd tried to drink a vat of sea water.

Eirik.

"What the fuck was that? It felt like … dying," Nero groaned because he didn't know. He hadn't been the one to feel it.

"One of the others … Eirik," I started. "But Archon wouldn't kill them. He couldn't."

Not without specific orders to. Sebek wouldn't make that call, not after he'd left me alive. He wouldn't kill them without reason, if only because he didn't see the point of spending energy on something so trivial.

"Sebek has that man so far smashed under his thumb he's practically Djinn flavored jam, Osiris. He'd piss on the Hallowed of Death if Sebek asked him to," Nero said with a scoff, his eyes squinting after he spoke, like he was trying to figure out how he knew that.

It wasn't something that I could rule out, but that left us at a crossroads, one that suddenly felt far too heavy. "What do we do?"

"Do, do, do. Like you have a choice. The fates play their strings, and all you can do is choose ," Magelav chimed in, and when I looked at them again, I noted the blood on their hands, now splayed across the wall in a sick pattern. The spell reverberated, pulsing like a heartbeat as the red molded to the darkness that this room still held.

"Lose the brothers?" they said before slashing another bloody mark across the wall. When they lifted their head, it was like looking into a void. Their next words weren't their own. "Or lose your lover?"

"We aren't losing anybody, Mags!" Chaos broke out, Nero seething as he stepped forward, only stopping when Magelav hissed as he touched the blood on the floor.

"Then what are you to do? The Butcher has gone to find friends in a dead man's graveyard, where horror waits for you. You must kill him before the Eternium, or you lose everything ." The cryptic words sank as deep as a knife. Magelav lifted their hand, showing two bloodied fingers. Then let one fall. "One cannot kill the depths; one cannot free the brothers. All or nothing, nothing or all. Fickle be the fates, no?"

Nero looked on in shock, and I focused on the cold that built in my chest. The situation was laid out, a decision that should never have to be made.

"Kri'Valta. Sebek took Aaliyah to Kri'Valta's Gala," I said on a breath.

They were allies, and Sebek was likely going to make sure Kri'Valta made it to the Eternium. With him alive, our plan would crumble. We couldn't pass an Exilium vote with both on the playing field, which meant I'd be forced to Challenge. Sebek had the upper hand there, and our chances of success would go down exponentially. I held my chest, where the ache had vanished, but looked at the mark on my wrist, the one that Aaliyah's soul had burned into my skin. Over the one Darius had forced me to wear.

It was a choice I never would have considered making. Save her, the woman who'd stolen my soul for herself. Or save my brothers, whom I'd promised to give my life for should it ever come to it.

Every failure was again placed at my feet, every choice that led here, to this horrid moment.

"How long do we have?" Nero asked.

"The Gala is today," I responded, brushing my hair away from my eyes before I pulled on the cuff of my shirt, covering the marks on my wrist. "We were to leave once the others returned from Archon's."

It was quickly growing too late for us to go. The Gala was likely already underway, and the sun was set to rise soon. Soon enough that I questioned if we'd even make it there as it was. Silence again, broken only by the sound of sloshing as Magelav continued to refine their bloodied spell.

"We can't just rule them out. They're our brothers." Nero's optimism was addictive, and that fire in his eyes something I'd forgotten had burned so brightly. "They're strong bastards. They can make it until we can get to them."

"The fates are uncertain. But the sun … the sun always rises," Magelav said.

Their eyes dulled with a melancholy I almost missed, that graying white clouded with emotion. They shook their head, refusing to look up from the ground as if avoiding my gaze. My stomach sank.

Nero groaned, rubbing his hands against his face. "Can you please just speak clearly for once, Mags?"

"He plans to let them burn," I supplied, voice steady.

Because Sebek knew that I would only have two choices. He did this deliberately, to split my attention and hope that I wouldn't chase him. Part of me paused, in awe of his ability to always keep the upper hand … and under normal circumstances, he would have been exactly right.

But Nero coming back from the dead was anything but normal. I would no longer allow those I loved to suffer and die. I would not make the same mistake twice, given the opportunity to fix it. "You will go for the others, Nero. I will handle Kri'Valta."

Nero's hands were suddenly at my shoulders again, and I was met with his wide silver eyes.

"When one fights, we fight with them! " The mantra on his lips was a prayer, a promise. "I have your back, brother. Always . I can take out Archon and get the others. Are you sure you can handle Kri?"

I wasn't sure if we could do it. It had been a risk with all of us. By myself, it was likely suicide, but I would not leave another brother to die, and I would not leave Aaliyah in the hands of that devil.

"If Kri'Valta lives through the night, everything is lost. Sebek stays Eternal, and whatever he has planned for Aaliyah goes forward. Our only chance at bringing this down on his head is this Gala. I will kill the Horror of the Depths."

The clap of hands broke the tense air that had built. Magelav clicked their tongue. "Fickle be . So, you have chosen death? One or the other. Brothers or lover. This is a choice dipped in fool's gold. One that has consequences far beyond a simple promise."

Nero let me go, the gladiator I knew suddenly shining as he turned to glare at the Chronomancer that looked on like we were nothing more than passing time in the grand scheme of whatever it was they saw. The fight would always be there, and I had to pull back not to fall to it. Not to falter.

"No. We save them all." Nero breathed. "I won't settle for anything less."

"We head for home. I need to get our preparations," I said as I turned, leaving him and a mumbling Magelav behind me, who whispered something about not going far.

Their magic had grown, the wall becoming a large spell that now sank into my bones. Teleportation. They'd repurposed the magic that Sebek had left from his. It lingered in the air, the faintest traces. It wasn't enough to follow, but it would be enough to get us home and let me grab the items we'd prepared. Hopefully, Magelav would have the strength to get me to the Gala as well.

"Wait for us," I said, sinking my nails into my palm. Nero came to my side, resolute and unspeaking. " Fratres ."

We both turned just as Magelav walked out, and we were quick to follow. The spell still sang on their skin, and when they reached their hand out, a small blue circle grew around our feet. I lifted my hand, snapping, the brush of the Flame lighting up my soul as it hit the building, but it wasn't enough. Nero joined in, reducing the place that had sought to destroy Aaliyah to dust.

We left it like that. My thoughts split between saving Aaliyah, the woman who'd resurrected my soul, and the brothers I'd promised to always save. I hadn't known Nero was going to die. I hadn't expected it. With the others, I couldn't say the same. I was given a chance to save them, and I wouldn't fail, not again. Sebek underestimated what I was willing to lose for my family, for my light.

What would I do to save them all? A silly question.

What wouldn't I do?

The answer to that left me far more hollow.

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