Chapter 15
Mithras blinked, as if waking from a dream. “No,” he said, distantly, wretchedly.
The legionnaires, awake at last, entered the tomb, rushing to their lord’s side.
It was all too much—suddenly, agonizingly, it was all too much.
Something hit my back, heavy and hard, sending me sprawling into the dirt.
A legionnaire was on top of me, blade poised over my throat.
Several more were over the Shadow Bringer, ready to slice his head clean off.
Stories whirled through my head, one after the other.
Stories that would explain my innocence, that would prove the Shadow Bringer deceived me, used me.
But as these stories eddied in my mind like the shadows pulling at my clothes, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was lying to myself.
The Shadow Bringer’s hollowed, marred face sprang into my heart, unbidden and unwelcome, reminding me of the connection we had and the brief feeling of rightness that had come over me when I’d had possession of his power. Of our power.
The shadows made me feel as though I had, despite everything, a purpose.
From above the stairs of the tomb came a wild, unhinged laugh, snapping through the haze.
Mithras.
The Light Bringer dragged a hand across his swollen mouth, smearing the blood that occasionally pooled from it.
A few strands of hair, wet with blood and dirt, stuck to his jaw.
His eyes were cold despite their golden color, daggerlike and violent, and the flesh of his face had sunken, much like the Shadow Bringer’s had.
It accentuated the scar that split his brow.
A legionnaire offered him a bit of cloth, but he pushed it away.
“Like calls to like,” he murmured.
Like calls to like.
A lord of demons, connected to me.
“Our Maker is with us, even in the dark,” Mithras intoned. “We must walk in the shadows.”
“To walk in the light,” the Light Legion answered, voices wavering.
When Mithras spoke again, it was to the Light Legion.
“You have done well, faithful legionnaires,” he said sadly, blood trickling from his lips. He wiped at it, dragging it back into his mouth. Several legionnaires looked down, away—averting their eyes from their lord’s sunken skin, bruised body, and bloodied teeth. “Forgive me.”
And then he exploded.
Light shot from his body as a cloud of daggers, slicing into his legionnaires.
They screamed in shock, leaping off the Shadow Bringer and me as they tried to defend themselves.
Those who ran met Mithras’s blade on the stairs; those who didn’t run died as his volcanic light poured into their mouths and out of their eyes.
It left them in strange skeletal husks inside their armor, as though their very essence had been dragged out from under their skin.
In the chaos, what remained of the Shadow Bringer’s shadows carried him deeper into the tomb.
When the dust settled, all the legionnaires were dead.
All of them save Silas, who was at the tomb’s entryway with Elliot unconscious in his arms.
“Elliot!” I screamed. But he did not stir. “Elliot!”
“Listen quickly and carefully,” Mithras ordered, eyes wild as he grabbed me by the hand and yanked me up.
I screamed, thrashing as hard as I could, but he was much stronger.
“I will protect your brother and give him a privileged life in Istralla. In return, you will guard Noctis from the monsters the Shadow Bringer harbors. With him you will shield our world from the darkest shadows of the Realm.”
Bile rose sick and violent in the back of my throat.
“No,” I choked in fear, skin clammy and cold.
Fear of the tomb—fear of the Light Bringer.
The tomb would kill me. There existed no food, water, or light.
There existed no way out, save for the colossal door of iron and stone at its front.
I struggled against Mithras, trying to run for the stairs.
“Let me go! I can’t believe you killed them! ” I screamed. “Silas—help me!”
But Silas didn’t move. He didn’t even acknowledge me.
“This tomb is a font of darkness,” Mithras explained, forcing my attention back to him.
“You will inhabit it physically and tether yourself spiritually. Asleep, you will draw the Dream Realm’s demons to you, binding them to the Shadow Bringer’s domain.
In theory, your combined power should bind more demons, saving more human lives. ”
A few threads of shadow rose in response to my terror, but I couldn’t focus—couldn’t control them. With a quick wave of his hand, Mithras extinguished them.
“I sensed it when I first met you,” Mithras insisted, turning to face me.
“Power in the Realm is distributed to dreamers of similar capabilities. You are every bit as capable as he is—you just need time to practice, is all.” He added, voice lowering, “And besides, even if you didn’t have power of your own, you’re still able to bolster his.
You give him a strength I hadn’t imagined possible. ”
The Shadow Bringer’s voice came to mind. He had already warned me of this.
If he succeeds, you’ll never leave. You’ll share my fate, bound to this castle and unable to watch your loved ones grow older. You’ll live here as Noctis sinks further into ruin, oblivious to the waking world and numb to the passage of time. Don’t let them take you.
“You’re sentencing me to die in this tomb,” I sobbed. “I just want to be with Elliot. Let us go. Please.”
“What other fate would you prefer?” Mithras drew close, eyes wide and desperate.
I took an uneasy step back, heart thundering.
“To simply rot into the earth, leaving behind no legacy, no meaning, no purpose? The tomb will be the safest place for you; Istralla will be the safest for Elliot. The safest and the most necessary.”
“Corruption is overrunning our kingdom,” Silas added, his voice colder than I had ever heard it. “If there is a chance this helps us bind more demons, then hope will spread, illuminating our kingdom in the light of the Maker.”
Silas turned, half-hidden by the tomb’s entryway. One more step and I’d never see Elliot again. I surged forward, screaming, but Mithras hauled me back, binding me to the wall with two shimmering bands of light.
“Remember, the Shadow Bringer is a necessary darkness, even though you’ve been taught otherwise.
I do not desire his death or his release.
” Mithras considered me fiercely, as if he wanted me to understand something that I was not fully comprehending.
“So above all else, do not harm the Shadow Bringer, and do not release him from his tomb or his castle. We need him there. I need him there. Swear to me, Esmer. Do not release him. If you do, the deaths of these people will have been for naught.”
“If you wanted to spread the Maker’s light, then why did they need to die?”
Beyond the tomb’s entrance, wind groaned softly through the trees, rustling leaves and speckling dawn’s early sunlight across the expanse of the clearing.
I stretched myself upright, standing as tall and as straight-backed as I could.
I needed to find strength somewhere, so I drew it from my family.
I drew it from Father, who had patrolled our home without fear.
Every night he had battled demons. Demons of the unknown, demons of the twilight.
Demons of dread, demons that made sounds as they shifted in the woods, snapping twigs and howling at the stars.
Demons created out of fear. Demons built out of Corruption.
I drew it from Mother, too, who had shielded Elliot and me from Corruptive fates.
I drew it from Eden, who had shown me kindness even though I persuaded her to dream.
I drew it from Elliot, who faced life with joy even in the darkness.
All wasn’t lost. It couldn’t be. I needed to steel myself for what was about to come—for what my fate had conspired to be.
I need to survive. Whatever it takes.
Mithras regarded me with cool detachment as he responded: “Because no one can know where this tomb is, not even my legionnaires. This place must fall into desolation like it always has. Like it was meant to.” Without warning, he dissolved my bindings and shoved me backward. “And you will keep it that way.”
Then he slammed the tomb door shut.