Page 39

Chapter 39

The Price for Life

S ylzenya’s first willow sang to her, the muffled thump of her goddess’ heartbeat reaching out through its roots.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

The final act of Elnok’s life was giving her power—the object to destroy the god who controlled her and everyone on this continent.

She wouldn’t let Elnok’s final moment be in vain.

She ran for the altar, sword in hand.

“ Stop, Sylzenya, ” Distrathrus shouted, throwing Elnok’s lifeless body to the ground.

But Sylzenya breathed deep, connecting every part of her body until they worked as one, unparalleled strength ripping through her as light crackled along her skin.

Power thrummed fast and hot through her body as she landed on Distrathrus’ bloody heart, sword high and ready to plunge into its beating flesh?—

The dark barrier crashed down on her.

She shouted in anger as the sword grew too heavy, its weight throwing her backwards. Strong fingers gripped her shoulders, pulling her off and slamming her to the floor.

The sword clattered away.

The thrumming heartbeat of her goddess ceased.

Eyes wild, Distrathrus steadied a sharp dagger to her throat. “You were supposed to resurrect me, Sylzenya, not kill me.”

Sylzenya gripped his arm, scratching and screaming for him to let her go, her windpipe slowly crushed by his grasp, black stars appearing at the corners of her vision.

“How could you do this to me?” he asked, tears spilling from his eyes, dropping onto her heated skin. “You… you were everything to me?—”

“ You’re a fucking monster! ” she shouted, the vision of Elnok’s lifeless eyes causing her vision to blur.

Distrathrus’ yellow eyes widened. He dropped the dagger, releasing her throat and cupping her face instead.

Wheezing, Sylzenya tried to break free from his grasp, but exhaustion pulled at her like a heavy anchor. Her hands frantically felt for the sword—it had to be nearby.

“ My Sylzenya, ” he whispered. “I should’ve put my blood into your cut years ago so I had complete control of you… it was my plan, but I didn’t. I couldn’t .”

Confusion pulled at her mind, her fingertips fumbling until she found the cold hilt of the sword.

“What are you talking about?” she choked, grabbing the blade.

He shook his head, smile wide and crooked. “You were devoted to me. You adored me, even when my blood’s potency in the wine grew weak. Out of thousands of Esteans, you never left my side. And now… I almost killed you. My Sylzenya.”

She stilled.

Sylzenya recalled those moments where they’d laughed together and walked in the gardens during fresh spring days, discussing new vegetables to create and different ways to provide for Esteans. He’d committed atrocities, controlled her and everyone around her, and yet… She finally saw what he’d been hiding in plain sight this entire time—even from himself.

“You—” Sylzenya faltered, searching his eyes. “You grew to care for humans . ”

His smile fell. “No. No, I didn’t. No, no, no ? — ”

“You once told me the priestesses, Kreenas, and acolytes were your family. You said I was the closest you’d ever had to a daughter.”

Elnok’s blood coated his face, mixing with his tears as his body shook.

“Distrathrus, you can let us live,” she begged, keeping him focused on anything but her desire to see him dead, “you can be better than your sister.”

Yellow eyes searched hers. His smile cracked. Tears streamed down his pale face.

“No… no. ” He shook his head and yelled, “Can’t you see? I don’t care about humans; everything I did, it was for you. For us. So when I took this world, we would create something new out of it. You and me. Just you and me, how it was always meant to be.”

She pulled her face out of his grasp, crawling backwards. He didn’t pursue her. Sylzenya surveyed the chaos surrounding them. Kreenas bleeding into the floor, gasping for air. Kharis held down while a vial of Distrathrus’ blood was poured into his cut. Elnok’s lifeless body lying in a pool of his own blood.

Distrathrus extended his arms, pleading for her to return to him.

If her heart could crack and spill, then it would’ve. This was Distrathrus’ fault, Aretta’s fault—and it was hers.

“I’m not your sister, Distrathrus,” she whispered. “I’m not Aretta.”

“But you’re a goddess, ” he shouted, “ I made you .”

Sylzenya called on her muscles to work as one again, but there was no response. Her power was still blocked.

“I’m not a goddess, Distrathrus. I’m not separate from my people or this world, no matter how much you want me to be,” Sylzenya said, gripping the sword with both hands. “I may have power, but at my core, I’m just a human.”

She spun, screaming at the weight burdening her arms as she lifted the sword high in the air, her shout a final prayer ushered into the sanctuary as she pierced his heart.

Black blood spilled and sputtered, its warmth coating her hands and face.

Distrathrus’ yellow eyes flickered as he fell to his knees, reaching for her. “But…” he gasped, his fingers catching her clothes, “But you were mine, Sylzenya.”

“No,” Sylzenya said through stray tears. “I belong to no one.”

A contorted grimace took over his face, a strange laugh leaving his lips. Sylzenya backed away, a shiver running down her spine.

“It’s too late for this land,” he croaked, his laughter growing louder, “My sister’s blood will be consumed by my dying heart thanks to the power you’ve already given it. All you humans will die with me and my creation. If I can’t have you or this world, then no one can .”

Sylzenya dropped the sword, turning back towards the pedestal.

Impossible.

The large heart’s rhythm had slowed, but it continued to absorb Aretta’s golden blood. The Kreenas surrounding the altar started screaming again, their bodies shriveling as their bodies continued to drain of blood.

Sylzenya looked at her hands, her power still dormant, his blood still controlling her.

No more of this.

Climbing onto the altar, Sylzenya fell to her knees, Distrathrus’ heart squelching underneath her weight. Ignoring the stench, she dug her fingers into its flesh.

“What are you doing, Sylzenya?” Distrathrus gasped.

Her neck twitched remembering Distrathrus’ words to Elnok, you thought she could be yours, but you knew from the moment we met she would always be mine.

Curling her fingers, she pushed past his damn blood, a crack rupturing in the barrier of her mind.

You must prove yourself ready, and so far, you’ve only proven how far from it you are.

Gold light circled her arms, her torso, her entire self as she commanded more of Aretta’s power through her body. Distrathrus’ barrier cracked more, power pushing through.

“ Sylzenya! ” he screeched.

Your parents proved who they were—who we always knew them to be—delirious, selfish, and hostile. Wasn’t it I who told you these very things?

Gritting her teeth, she leaned forward, Distrathrus’ heart thrumming against her skin as if it were frightened of her.

After all these years, why are you choosing to doubt me now, Sylzenya?

She cried out as pain sliced through her back, golden power dragging along her skin, passing into Distrathrus’ heart—both of them seeping warm blood down the altar.

A looming silence fell on her.

You’re mine.

Sylzenya clenched her jaw. “Not anymore.”

The barrier shattered into a million pieces. Gold power consumed her, a scream pushing out of her throat, tears streaming down her face.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

Distrathrus’ blood fled from her body. Freedom filled her lungs.

Bright golden light flashed under her palms. She thought of Druenia, all she and her people had taken from them. She thought of Elnok, his half-smile and pale green eyes bringing a smile to her lips.

No matter what she did, she’d always been enough, with and without her power. She’d loved, she’d cared, and she’d destroyed. Digging deep into her nerves, she called on that power that had killed so many, transforming it into something different—something that could heal.

Elnok had been right. She would never be a hero, but perhaps, she could cease being a monster.

She’d give back everything her and her people had stolen.

A harsh gust of wind whipped around her, so powerful it could topple ancient trees. Her fingers dug into the soft beating flesh, sending the orodyte serum out of Distrathrus’ heart and back where it came from.

Into all of Druenia.

She screamed, the pain no longer in her back but in her heart—ripping and tearing as she pushed harder than ever before. Light blinded her as golden power spiraled out of her, into the air, into the earth, and around her body.

Then, she thought of Distrathrus. The control he had had over her, the way he had used her, abused her—her and all her people.

She allowed herself to feel the emotions for what they were.

Rage and sorrow. Betrayal and joy. Dread and freedom.

Roots of her willow climbed down to the altar, surrounding her, spearing Distrathrus’ heart. More orodyte serum spilled from it, her power continuously pushing it back into the earth.

Distrathrus’ screech reverberated through her ears, his sharp nails clawing at her skin. Her willow roots formed a cage of branches, separating her from Distrathrus.

From everyone.

Suddenly, sharp pain shot through her chest. She didn’t stop. Another shot of pain ripped through her leg, her torso, and into her neck.

“ Sylzenya! ” Elnok’s familiar voice shouted, “Stop!”

A familiar scent rushed past her nose. Musky earth and worn leather.

He was alive.

She screamed a cry of relief. It didn’t matter how or why Elnok no longer lay in his pool of blood, but she couldn’t stop. This needed to end.

Everything became shadow as the roots closed in on her, crushing her; Distrathrus’ dying heart beating frantically underneath her. The heart’s acrid black blood spilling all over her body, into her mouth as she became flush to the sulfuric scent. Piercing blue eyes flashed through her vision—the gray and white feathered bird from her vision crushed by twigs, its face shifting in and out of focus, melting away until it transformed into something else, something human?—

She looked at a reflection of herself.

Her head became dizzy, her power fading…

Thump .

Thump …

Thump ……

Her goddess’ heart beat slowed with hers, dying with her?—

No. That wasn’t right, it didn’t feel right. This wasn’t her goddess’ heartbeat, but her own. She felt for Aretta’s heartbeat one last time, needing to feel it, hear it…

Thump.

Thump.

All she could hear was her own, and yet, her last remaining power echoed with it.

Realization thrummed with the heartbeat, slow and steady against her chest:

The power she used to receive her vision in the altar room, to escape the Willow Grove with Elnok, to fight in the forest… to kill Distrathrus .

Ever since Aretta’s blood had been seared into her back at her Kreena Rite…

It hadn’t been her goddess’ heartbeat she’d been hearing.

It’d been her own.

Her own power.

Disthrathrus’ scream consumed her as his beating heart ceased, her last breath leaving her body with it. Even if it was only in this moment she finally understood, she couldn’t stop the smile peeling across her lips: Elnok had been right.

She’d always been stronger.

She let the truth she learned as a child wash over her. All her life, she’d known life came with a price.

This time, she would let it be hers.