56. Sorva’s Game
Sorva’s Game
ROHEN
All that once was fell away. The sudden transition from Wraelira to the hellish landscape beyond should have sparked horror and shock so potent it settled in the marrow of my bones, but all that remained was a deep awareness—an unlocked connection with divinity so potent I simply knew.
The black stone trail we stood on wound through a canyon of jagged obsidian spires that thrust upward like the broken teeth of a colossal beast. Rivers of molten rock bled from endless cracks in the cliffs, painting their darkness with veins of crimson and gold.
Tendrils of heat lapped against my skin until everything burned, both body and breath.
The culprit belonged to the ash that settled over everything in a sheet of gray, like dying snow.
Where the path disappeared into the smoke, stood a palace that looked less like it had been built and more like it had clawed its way out of the depths of the world.
Black towers speared into the blood-red sky, their razor-thin spires twisting at impossible angles.
Fire cascaded down its walls, disappearing into the chasm below as if the fortress itself wept scorched infernos.
Though entire sections had collapsed into glowing ruin, the structure stood defiant and eternal, silhouetted against a hellish landscape.
Shaking me from my trance, a tremor rocked the desolation.
At first, I thought the mountains were shifting, but then the vibration settled into a rhythm of thousands of footsteps.
They struck the decrepit earth in a perfect, relentless cadence, each rumble a warning of arrival.
As if to confirm my suspicions, a horde spilled from the cliffs, hundreds flooding the valley while even more of them crawled from the birthing abyss.
Well-acquainted with the nuances of Sorva’s monstrosities, I made a quick note of the creatures that elected to join us.
As towering frames stalked forward on impossibly long limbs, twisted masses of flesh writhed across the backs of some.
Tendrils lashed through the heat emanating from the volcanic terrain, barbed tails sampling the air for even the most minimal splash of terror.
Other bodies, grotesque and elongated, were cloaked with leathery hides, their mouths stretching open in silent snarls.
The only ones that stood against those of familiarity were little more than living darkness, their forms unraveling into drifting smog before knitting back together.
Balling my fists at my sides, I narrowed my gaze at Sorva’s pitiful attempt at instilling fear. Her armies had failed to stand a chance against us in Wraelira, and now, in the belly of the Other Realm, I was about to remind her how little sway she held with the true gods.
Nearly too fixed on all that awaited, I almost missed the subtle brush of fingers against my hand.
Head swiveling, I glanced to the right, the glint of flame basking the man who stood beside me in ethereal beauty.
Raven curls falling to his shoulders, Caspian stood with the same wrath I harbored.
Beard full, the heated coax of wind ruffled his linen, further exposing his bronze chest and the thick lines of lightning that carved through his skin.
Sensing my wandering gaze, his fingers hooked under my chin as he drew me toward him.
Our lips met in a caress full of all the promises he’d offered, and our soul tie responded in kind, strengthening even in the presence of unholy entities and their malicious rulers.
Lingering only for a breath, he drew back to look at me, his crimson irises harboring an admiration that toed the line of something far more.
With the distance came sight, and with sight, massive wings came into view. Blooming from his back, silken feathers lined their powerful frame with deadly charm—a piece of his father enveloping him in the onslaught of the impending doom of Sorva’s plan.
He was beyond magnificent, and I was beyond infatuated.
With the dip of his chin, he brought my forehead to his. Brushing his nose over mine, he repeated the action a handful of times before his utterance came with valiant tenacity.
“Let’s show them exactly what we are.”