3. The Temple
3
THE TEMPLE
Cassian
The Past
Cassian teleported to the front platform of one of his temples in the Mortal Land. The basalt columns were flanked by trellises of black roses. Firelight flickered in the basin beside the arched iron doors. An idyllic, overblown statue of what the mortals thought Cassian’s appearance was—scowling and cloaked—guarded the entrance of the temple.
He looked over his shoulder through the dusky haze and into the streets of the town. A few carriages dallied by. The footfalls of the travelers padded along the pathway. Trails of smoke weaved into the sky, crawling up from chimneys. The faint smell of firewood and seasoned meats drifted through the air.
Since the young god’s departure in the apothecary a few days ago, Cassian had done well to keep track of his whereabouts. It appeared Finnian did not have a place to call home. He wandered from one small town to the next. Just as Cassian sniffed him out, he’d create an annoying distance between them once again.
Cassian blew out a sigh as he faced the temple’s doors. He did not find it a coincidence that the young god had brought him here. Inside its walls, he could sense Finnian’s aura—bold and bright and thrumming with magic.
He stepped inside and found the young god, to no surprise, standing atop the altar where his worshipers gave offerings. All were strewn off and scattered over the stone floor—wooden bowls, spilled fruits, incense snuffed giving a delightful aroma of frankincense, cracked jars of seeping honey, spilled pots holding plants and flowers, and the burned remains of what appeared to be several chickens.
Cassian stopped at the entrance and took in the young god. His hair was cut shorter than Cassian had last seen it. The strands were now streaked with light brown and met the underside of his jaw.
“Why hello, Little Nightmare.”
Finnian’s gaze constricted, sharpening the shape of his eyes, and he held his chin up. “Stop chasing me, or I will send all your temples to the same fate.”
Cassian ran a thumb over his bottom lip, scrutinizing the audacious young god standing on his altar. “All you have to do is stop reviving my souls and I will gladly leave you be.”
It was embarrassing, really, that days had gone by and Cassian still hadn’t dealt with the situation. He made the mistake of underestimating Finnian at the apothecary. And after an assortment of challenges to keep on his trail, Cassian was growing irritated by the young god’s ability to evade him.
Finnian smirked, a vicious cut splitting apart his mouth. “What fun would that be?”
His snide manner crawled through Cassian’s skin, pulsing his jaw as he slid his hand inside his pocket. “Very well.”
In a blink’s time, Cassian teleported in front of Finnian, slamming the young god’s back into the temple wall. The old, mortal-crafted architecture shuddered under the blow, too fragile for a deity’s raw power.
Struggling under Cassian’s hold, Finnian flicked both sets of fingers in a sharp motion towards his core. “ Skyfa .”
A thin, gleaming arc of magic launched from the ceiling and cut off both of Cassian’s wrists like a guillotine. The pain was comparable to a nip from a needle. Cassian’s tolerance to such injuries had exceeded during the long walk of his life.
Finnian struck Cassian’s chest with his palm, pushing off the wall and materializing a few feet away, putting distance between them once more.
Cassian’s divine power rushed up to his wrists. He flexed the muscles in his arms, quickly regenerating his hands completely.
He eyed the young god like a stalking hunter and gave a low laugh. “It seems you are made of a thousand little tricks. Let me show you one of my own.”
He stretched out a hand and a ripple of onyx smoke pulsed across the mosaic floor, swallowing everything it touched. The fruit soured. The chicken carcasses withered until nothing but the bones remained. The plants closed inward and turned to dust. Everything the wave touched was eaten by death itself.
Seeing that the wave was guided by Cassian’s hand, Finnian shot his right arm outward and then directly up.
The various bones of the chickens flew towards Cassian and then mimicked the motion, piercing his hand and forcing it towards the ceiling.
The wave of rot followed suit and halted before it could touch its target.
Finnian reached into a small pocket of his trousers, pulled out a vial containing a milky, blue substance, and lightly flung it towards the ground between him and Cassian. As soon as the glass shattered and the substance oxidized, the liquid formed into a dense smog and filled the room. It smelled of the ocean’s salt.
Unable to see more than an inch ahead of him, Cassian prepared for a blow from anywhere. He vaguely caught a muffled word exit from Finnian’s mouth, and as soon as it was uttered, an ellipse fabricated around Cassian’s feet and a claw of spectral vines enveloped his legs, up his waist, pinning his arms behind his back.
Cassian pushed against the strain of the magic ensnaring him. The edge of his shoulder hit an invisible barrier, and the rune of the sigil flashed underneath him.
He growled under his breath.
The smoke cleared. Finnian sat on the edge of the altar, giving a mischievously nonchalant stretch, holding an apple in his hand. A purple crystal inside his ear refracted the light of the sconce.
“Best of luck freeing yourself.” The smug playfulness in Finnian’s tone swirled and burned in Cassian as hot as an inferno. He felt the muscles in his neck cord like taut ropes.
“Take this as your opportunity to run as far away from me as you can, because when I free myself, you will not escape my growing rage again.”
Finnian took a large bite from the apple and stared at Cassian, confidence gleaming in his gaze. “Oh, but I will. You see, I knew this was the outcome that awaited you from the moment you followed me inside your dreary temple.”
In an underhand toss, the apple rolled into the magical trap and bumped into the toe of Cassian’s shoe.
He kept his glare fixed on the young god, though, as thin wisps of his divine power bled from his pores. “I will curse you.”
A gathering of black mass grew around him, picking away at the magic keeping him bound.
The smug hues shaded across Finnian’s expression disappeared. A set blankness returned. “Such a pathetic threat coming from the one trapped in my magic.” He leaned forward, inches from the barrier of the sigil. His fearlessness was the stupidest thing Cassian had ever seen. “ I will escape you each time you find me, while continuing to raise your souls. And there is nothing you can do to stop me, Lord Cassian .”
A humorless laugh scuffed out of Cassian. He squeezed his hands into fists at his sides.
There was so much of Mira in him. A ruthless arrogance Cassian wished to snatch ahold of and tear out.
“I have been alive longer than any deity in the world. You do realize that, yes?” Cassian pushed forward as much as the constrictions would allow, his eyes prodding into Finnian’s. “When I catch you, I intend to make it hurt.”
Finnian’s lips twitched, forming a brief sighting of a small smirk. “Until then, I suppose.”
Cassian’s divine power thrashed against the vines as Finnian’s form dispersed like a wraith, leaving only frosty-red wisps and silence.