Chapter 11
My eyes creaked open, straining as the world wobbled alive.
Soft golden light worked through the air, and for a moment, I thought I was still dreaming.
But the light fanned out, lapping against polished ivory, decorative gold metal, a small shelf of books, and paintings that wrapped around a domed ceiling.
I felt plush velvet against my hands, even though they were bound by ropes.
Heard horse hooves and the clink of rattling metal.
Smelled honeyed wine, inked paper, and the subtle scent of something deliciously masculine.
Expensive cologne, perhaps. What I didn’t expect to see was the Light Bringer sitting across from me in the most extravagant carriage I’d ever seen.
“You’re awake.”
The Light Bringer, unmasked, lounged in the seat across from me. Although he held himself casually, his face contained a riot of emotion: unease, disgust, and confusion.
He leaned forward, looming over me. His bare face was striking: tan skin, molten gold eyes, and blond hair that fell to his shoulders, escaping the band that bound it.
A beloved, golden king. He looked exceptionally younger than I had anticipated him to be, but his centuries of rule showed in his eyes.
“So, you’ve returned to us after all,” the Light Bringer began, his full mouth slanting into a frown. I couldn’t decipher his expression. Hatred? Condemnation? Every breath made it harder to tell. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?”
I inhaled sharply, wanting to answer, but my throat had closed again. A muffled wheeze croaked from somewhere within me. The Light Bringer unhooked a flask from beneath his mantle. He brought it to my lips, positioning it carefully so that it didn’t spill, and I drank deep.
Water. Blessed, blessed water.
In any other context, I might have felt nervous being this close to him. No one was ever so close to the Light Bringer, never mind being hand-fed water out of his personal flask. But there was no time for those emotions. No time for formalities, either.
“Why am I bound? Where is my family, my lord?”
Mithras leaned back, and I noticed a faint scar splitting his brow.
“The Light Legion does not tolerate the Corrupt. Unmanaged, they will destroy a village. Unpunished, they will destroy a kingdom.” As he talked, he removed his gloves and set them on the bench.
A spray of blood marked them. “The Corrupt are known deceivers, worming their way into the light when they’re still rotting from within.
Fortunately, our Maker is a forgiving god. ”
“Where is my family?” I repeated, on the verge of hysterics.
“Where do you expect them to be?”
I halted. “What?”
He gave me a strange, inquisitive look, as though he was gauging something—or considering a new possibility.
Whatever it was, the expression passed swiftly.
“We began our purification ritual, starting with your parents, but the ceremony was breached by a demonic presence. It took a long time to reestablish the ritual and save what souls remained.”
A deep, bruising ache dragged along my scalp and ended between my shoulders, forcing me to bow my head.
Thoughts swirled around in bizarre fragments.
Memories clouded in on themselves. Even reality itself—the reality of Mithras pinning me with eyes of burning embers—felt distant, somehow.
I centered my breathing, focusing on the carriage’s scent of wine, old books, and expensive cologne.
Mithras placed a hand atop my shoulder, grazing the edge of my neck.
“You paint a convincing portrait of innocence,” he murmured.
“Silas and Mila certainly believe you to be. But they have not known your kind as I do. They did not see you as I did.” I tried to respond, but my throat was dust, my teeth carved from chalk.
And even if I could speak, I didn’t think the words would come.
They were stuck to the walls of my mind, clinging to the shadows.
“Even so, we agreed that you would be treated justly,” he continued.
“Your punishment will be suitable for your crime.”
Again, Mithras offered his flask, and I drank.
“I have no reason to be punished,” I managed, blinking away the haze that shrouded my eyes. “I want to see my family.”
“You will,” Mithras said simply. As if a curse had lifted, the pain instantly ebbed. “In heaven one day. That is, if your troubled heart is ever allowed entrance.”
“Then my mother, my father—”
“Are with the Maker.”
“And their bodies?”
“Were buried with the rest of the purified Corrupt.”
My heart burned with grief. I wanted to sob, to hug someone, to scream.
Mithras put his elbows on his knees, eyeing me warily.
“We are currently en route to Istralla. Your brother is, too, since it is too dangerous for him to remain in Norhavellis unattended. If he is worthy, he can train at Citadel Firstlight and become a member of the Light Legion one day.”
This made my heart ache, too. I had never considered the possibility, but Elliot would be a wonderful legionnaire. He was brave, empathetic, and kind. Everything the Light Legion should be. He deserved a future. He deserved the entire world.
“And what about me?” I rasped, tears pricking my eyes.
“You are being escorted to the capital for your formal hearing.”
“What am I being tried for?”
“For consorting with the Shadow Bringer,” he snapped, his hypnotic voice growing cold.
“I did not consort with him. My lord, he captured me.”
His mouth twitched up in a tight, forced smile. “Then you’re either delusional or a liar. Either way, it does not matter. I saw it with my own eyes. You were standing next to the Shadow Bringer and wielding his shadows as if his dark magic was your very own.”
His words slid like fire down my spine.
Wielding the shadows did feel natural. Like they had always been a part of me.
“No—no. I wasn’t with him,” I insisted, the words falling from a tongue that felt too numb, too dry. “He captured me against my will. I was trying to escape.” Tears slipped down my face. “I would never side with that monster.”
The Shadow Bringer’s deep, melodic voice rang in my ears: What you just saw was merely a half-truth, as most dreams are. It held parts of your reality, but not the whole. This isn’t real.
Maybe there was a chance I was still dreaming.
I pinched the inside of my palm, wincing at the bite of my nails and the tight ropes still looped around my wrists. Pain could be felt in the Dream Realm, too, but this sensation was sharper and more complete. I wasn’t dreaming. This was terribly, horribly real.
The carriage slowed to a stop.
Silas tapped lightly on the door before carefully opening it. The Light Bringer signaled him to speak.
“My lord, we must set up camp.” Silas glanced at me uneasily. “The injured need to be freshly bandaged, and morale is low.”
Mithras gave a curt nod. “Very well.”
He made to stand, leaving me inside the carriage.
“This isn’t just, my lord,” I begged, feeling pathetic. “You haven’t even heard my story.”
“Oh, but your story has already been told,” Mithras said angrily, snapping his mask back into place. He held me by my bindings, squeezing the ropes until they hurt. “You have earned your fate. Now be strong for your brother and face the justice you deserve.”
I swallowed a scream.
I had thought that the Shadow Bringer’s castle was a hellish nightmare, but that wasn’t even close to the truth. This was hell. This was a nightmare.
And this was now my life.
Disembodied conversations drifted past the carriage, turning my stomach into knots. I begged the Maker to shield Elliot’s ears, but if I could hear them, why couldn’t he?
Oh, Elliot. He must think I’m a monster.
“She looks terrible. More corpse than girl,” came a gruff voice.
“Have you seen how she stares at us?” a feminine voice added. “There’s darkness in her eyes; she’s Corrupt, clearly.”
“It’s disgusting,” said a third. “Like the Shadow Bringer himself is in there just itching to crawl out of her skin.”
Shocked laughter, a horrified gasp.
“Better watch your throats tonight,” the gruff voice said. “She’ll rip into them if left unattended.”
“If the Shadow Bringer claimed her soul, it wouldn’t really be her. It would be him. And if he got to us—”
“He’d devour us before anyone else in the kingdom was the wiser.”
I nearly vomited at the thought. I’d never harm them.
I wanted them to live. I wanted them to be free from Corruption just as much as I desired everyone in the kingdom to be free.
But they didn’t see that when they looked at me.
They only saw a monster posing as a girl, a treacherous beast who would spread Corruption like a ravenous fire until the soul-stealing plague consumed Noctis whole.
We set up camp in a crescent-shaped glade. Legionnaires murmured furtively among themselves as they gathered firewood, righted their tents and bedrolls, and tended to both the horses and the Light Bringer’s every whim.
Before long, armor had been carefully removed, and the group was largely nestled around a roaring fire, lounging in matching tunics and woolen pants.
Dusk settled in, tickling our hair and necks with a cool, pine-scented breeze.
Something shifted in the Visstill the later it became; nighttime sounds bloomed in the shadows as wind wended itself through the ancient trees, whooshing between bough and root as though the land was its hollow plaything.
I prodded the ground with the toe of my boot, still bound and uncertain as to what I should be doing or where I would be sleeping.
At the rate I had been ignored—or suspiciously glared at—it was likely there wouldn’t even be a place for me to sleep.