48. Nyssa
Nyssa
Charon slid off the end of Kronos’ blade, crumpling in a heap on the debris-covered floor. He lay motionless, gleaming ichor pooling around him like molten gold. His lungs exhaled with a rasping heave — but did not rise again.
No.
The scream intensified, slicing through the air like a knife.
Charon’s grey-blue eyes stared blankly at the storm-filled sky through the jagged openings in the caved-in ceiling.
No!
When Kronos smirked in triumph, I realised the scream had torn from my own battered throat. He cackled — a haunting sound I’d never be able to unhear, mingling with my tormented chorus.
I broke free of the arms holding me upright, threw my own out wide and willed any power to come forth — a sliver of a dagger, the slither of a serpent, anything.
But I was spent.
Little one… Vel whispered into my head, her tone unusually broken.
“Come!” I shouted at my wretched powers, demanding their obeisance.
But nothing lingered within my veins. Not a drop.
My knees gave out, and I collapsed beside his body — his name suddenly too painful to even think. A hundred scattered memories played on a loop through my mind. He had shaped every facet of my being, had played a part in every aspect of my life, for almost thirty-one years.
And now I was expected to go on without him?
To accept that if I hadn’t saved Caelus, I might have saved him instead?
That Kronos would never have escaped if I’d chosen differently?
That if I had altered my own thread of fate, then maybe none of this would have come to pass?
I glared at the goddess cowering in the corner, barely spared by a fallen pillar. This was all her fault. If Hera hadn’t tried to murder me, then none of this would have happened. I would carve my vengeance from her flesh if it was the last thing I ever did.
For him.
But first, I’d send Kronos back to the depths of Tartarus where he belonged.
Piece by fucking piece.
He stood leaning against a gilded throne, arms crossed, bladed hand dripping with gold. A gloating smirk was plastered across his face — but all I saw was red.
I had no power, no weapon, no thoughts of self-preservation.
Only fury running through my veins like rivers of molten lava.
Only vengeance on my mind and decades of training given by the one who now lay broken at my feet.
Perhaps that did not bode well for me, but he was the best swordsman in any realm, and I owed it to him to try.
“Nyssa, no!” Caelus shouted as he reached for me — too slow.
I ran straight at the smirking motherfucker — the Titan who had forever altered the trajectory of my life. I managed to land a flying fist on his unsuspecting cheek before he reacted. His eyes flashed a glowing red as he grabbed my throat in one hand and dragged my flailing body into the air.
Caelus followed me into battle, wearing an identical expression of promised violence. But he had more than vengeance on his mind — I felt the fierceness of his drive to protect flowing through the bond. And I knew: if it came down to killing Kronos or saving me, he would choose the latter.
I kicked hard at Kronos’ chest as Caelus pummelled his head with a lump of broken marble. I almost wrenched myself free, but Kronos clicked his tongue in mock disappointment, holding his gilded blade to my eye.
“Yield!” he demanded.
Caelus dropped the stone, palms raised.
No! Kill him!
I wanted to scream it. I wanted to shout the words and demand it of my golden warrior. It was my right as Queen, for however briefly the title would be mine. I thrashed and clawed at the hand around my throat, my vision darkening at the edges.
“This will not do, Deathbringer,” he said, dangerously quiet. “Yield.”
“Let her go!” Caelus roared, stepping forwards.
Kronos hissed and pressed the blade into my eye, halting the storm-wielder in his tracks.
A choked whimper forced its way past my crushed windpipe as the blade skewered my cornea. If I’d thought hydra venom burned, it was nothing compared to this. Agony skittered through, and I could think of nothing else.
At least it drowned out the grief.
My vision went black in the punctured eye, but still, all I could see was red.
Pain and fury melded together into a blazing furnace within me.
Internally, I called out for help. Screamed it — to the sky, the sea, the land.
I called to Olympus, the Underworld, the mortal realm.
To the Fates, the Furies, to anyone or anything that could help end this murderous bastard.
Not to save us.
Not to save me.
Just to end him. Permanently.
Or, at the very least, send him back to Tartarus. To the coldest, deepest abyss within it.
And to my surprise… something answered my call.
A cold, wet weight settled in my palm. Icy water dripped from my fingers as they wrapped around a familiar leather-wrapped hilt.
Nightbreaker.
I swung the blade through the air, cleaving the Titan’s ribs apart with a satisfying squelch.
Kronos roared and dropped me.
It was then that my internal cry projected outwards. I was a torrent. A tempest. I was a raging inferno.
Nightbreaker responded instantly. She flared to life, my dark magic imbued in the steel blazing like black fire along her sharp edges.
Simultaneously, something I’d hedged a bet on during the forging happened.
Bright, white bolts of pure, raw energy also surged from the glass orb in Nightbreaker’s hilt — Caelus’ gift. Shadow and lightning embraced along her steely surface, dancing together in disastrous harmony.
As I gritted my teeth and minded my feet, I gripped the hilt with both hands and loosed a battle cry. I swung.
Caelus joined me in the probably suicidal fray, sending violet-hued lightning arcing through the air.
Kronos raised his skeletal sword to deflect my blow.
Bone clashed against steel with a hollow thud.
Shadow and lightning raced to meet the connection, shooting off inside his bladed limb.
The Titan howled as he fought to free himself from my fury, turning his face just in time to catch Velira’s fiery torrent.
His once-handsome face melted, skin dripping from his skull like melted wax to reveal the beast hidden within. Horns flashed briefly before fading, his true form warring to take the lead.
I pressed forward again, feet swift and sure among the debris, tears running freely down my face. The three of us pressed every advantage — strike, fire, lightning, parry, flames, mist — concealing our next move.
Kronos met every blow. Only once did he attempt to manipulate time, raising his hand in that familiar claw-like gesture.
Nightbreaker sang through the fog, her blissfully sharp edge slicing off the appendage. Black blood sizzled to the floor as lightning instantly cauterised the wound.
I knew it would not stop him forever. His gaze promised retribution.
“Find what hides. Cut what binds,” a hauntingly familiar tri-layered voice whispered in my ear. “Even Titans have seams. Make time bleed.”
I startled. Velira covered.
Binds. Hides. Seams…
An idea formed, so wildly unlikely I dared not voice it. I raised Nightbreaker high in the air, whispering to the piece of my magic it held, willing it to blanket the room and reveal what remains hidden from unseeing eyes.
At first, nothing happened. Caelus’ storm still raged, though he kept glancing at me, confused. Velira’s flames still scorched, though the fury behind them was dying. Fingers twitched beneath fallen pillars as gods struggled to pull themselves together again.
Then — a thin veil of night descended, broken only by the quick flashes of red and silver eyes.
“Come on, come on, show yourselves,” I chanted desperately. Pleadingly.
“Come on!” I yelled, knowing this was a last-ditch effort, and that if I failed, we were doomed.
And it was all my fault.
The atrium lit up above my head. Strands of glittering gold appeared in the air, just as they had during the trial. Now I just had to find the right one. If only time were on my side for once.
I ran my fingers along the lengths, except this time, I could hear every note. An entire string quartet played above my head, but only I seemed able to hear it. See it.
I kept going, desperately seeking that which didn’t belong.
My finger snagged on a hollow note — a lifeless, decaying sound that tarnished the air and soured the entire melody. I looked up to see the blackened string, its frayed end a glowing shade of red.
Kronos.
I raised Nightbreaker, careful to avoid the other threads, and began hacking at the Titan’s fate like a pissed off lumberjack.
“Stop!” he shouted. “Stop and I’ll leave!”
I ignored the lie, and kept cutting, watching strands fray and snap loose under my blade.
“I said stop!” Kronos howled, pain weaving through his gravelly voice.
I was so focused on severing the thread that I missed the threat at my feet — until a sharp, searing pain lodged itself just beneath my collarbone. My left arm gave out instantly. My right managed to hold onto Nightbreaker’s hilt as it fell.
The golden glow above my head faded from view once more.
And that damned bronze dagger was lodged in my flesh, whatever power it still possessed stripping me of any strength I had left.
“He said stop,” Hera sneered, sauntering forward brazenly.
Caelus loosed a bolt of violet lightning at his mother, striking her in the exact location she’d struck me. The only difference — Hera shrieked loudly, and I merely gritted my teeth in agonising silence.
“You’ll pay for that, son ,” she sneered.
“There is an entire list of things you shall pay for before your end, Mother ,” Caelus replied, stalking towards her as Vel kept a weakened Kronos at bay. “Starting with daring to lay a hand on your Queen.”
“She is no Queen of mine!” Hera spat.
“She can be Queen of Tartarus when I’m through,” Kronos seethed. “Or perhaps I shall erase her very existence entirely.” He glared at me through streams of golden fire. Raising his remaining arm, the limb melded back into a hand. He pressed thumb to middle finger.
“When we meet again, daughter of death,” he said, voice low and cryptic, “you will give me what I want… and then I shall end you for it.”
His fingers lifted — poised to snap.
“Wait! Take me with you!” Hera cried, racing towards him, cuffs clanging with every step.
Kronos considered her, eyes narrowed. Then he nodded once, raising an elbow in mock chivalry, and Hera latched on to him like her life depended on it.
And it did — the promise of murder was carved into every line on Caelus’ face.
Kronos snapped his fingers, loud as a crack of lightning. The pair disappeared between blinks.
A stilted breath slipped from my lungs as Nightbreaker clattered to the floor.
I followed her down, collapsing beside my fallen friend.
My heart broke all over again as I took him in.
His beautiful, boyish face would age no more than thirty-three — a heartbeat in the span of a god’s life.
His skin would never weather. His hair would never dull.
He would never father children, never set out on adventures.
He would never flash that dimpled smile or remind me to work on my footwork again.
He would never win another round of Ferryman or laugh while I drunkenly serenaded a marble bust.
I clasped Charon’s still-warm face in my hands, my once-ice encased heart shattering into a million scattered pieces. I pressed a salty kiss to his dimpleless cheek, gold-tinged tears falling onto his beautiful face.
The fractured pieces of my heart turned to dust in my chest, drifting away on a phantom wind, as I registered the speck of flour still gracing the tip of his freckled nose.
Pancakes.
I’d fought the power drain for too long. My head hit the tiles with a crack, landing beside his. I lay still, staring at his sightless eyes, until the darkness claimed me.
As my vision faded to black, murmured conversation filtered through. Just before I slipped into oblivion, I caught one final word: a quiet, “Fuck.”