Chapter 42 A Struggle for Love and Hate
Em’s Subtitle: What’s the Most Powerful Thing in the World?
Gair’s swearing drowned out Kriqir’s cackles.
Roden charged at her from across the lair, suddenly revived, full fury twisted across his face as he shouted in Elvish. But the necromancer sent him flying back with a blast of magic.
The world slowed around Em.
And she basked in the glorious finale of chaos that she’d ensued.
Just as I’d promised, she decided how this story ends.
Kriqir assessed her for a split second. Then he pulled his silvery mask from his face, revealing a young, sharp expression of pure confusion. Slowly, the necromancer’s countenance curled into an amused smirk, and he laughed again.
Em took the palmful of powder and tossed it into her mouth. Candied sweetness swelled along her tongue, and she sucked at it before she swallowed. She ate Brolzross the Nocturnal’s relic, the only thing that could kill the cackling necromancer in front of her.
Roden slammed into her. They toppled onto the floor with shouts, and he swung his fist towards Em. She almost choked the powder back up as she struggled to fight against his strong grip.
Fuck, no. Em forced herself swallow the rising powder in her throat as whiteness shot across her vision. Roden’s knuckles stung against her cheekbone.
Fuck.
Agony swelled through her head.
“How could you?” Roden shouted, mounted on her, his knees popping her rib cage as he shook her by her shoulders.
The back of Em’s skull smacked against the stone ground. She spluttered as agony shot through her entire being.
This is fucking why I didn’t want them here. She mentally flipped Stephanie off.
It’s more fun this way.
“Ro… Ro… Roden… pl… please,” she stammered over his rage.
Gair tore the half-elf off her. In a tangle of curse words, the two love interests wrestled one another across the floor, their punches snapping across each other’s faces.
The struggle echoed throughout the lair, and as they stumbled about to rip the other apart, books and jars tumbled off shelves as they slammed against the walls.
Kriqir just laughed.
Em pushed herself upright, vertigo washing through her mind as she swayed and staggered to reach her fighting friends. The only hope she clung to in the mayhem was the sugary remains of powder still along her lips. A surge of warm magic from the crushed relic filled her, reviving her spent energy.
“You promised!” Gair spat into the ground as he threw another blow toward the side of Roden’s head. “You promised to trust her!”
The half-elf dodged before ramming his knee into Gair’s stomach. “She’s killed us all!” he shouted, his pointed ears turning purple as every vein on his neck bulged with fury. “The prophecy is ruined!”
“Roden!” Em cut between them before he could beat Gair to a bloody pulp.
Already, a goose-egg bloomed on the dragon mutant’s forehead, and his eyes were glassy as blood trickled down his nose.
She swayed to stay upright, her own aching head disoriented, snapping a finger in Roden’s face. “You promised!”
He hesitated, glowering.
Please, Em mentally begged her friend to understand what she meant.
That this was all according to plan. That all was not lost.
At least, not yet
Her lips warmed with the humming energy slowly draining away from the dragon relic. The powder still clung to her face, ready for her final move.
Roden’s violet eyes stared into her soul. A tense moment hung between them, and all Em could do was plead with a smile in the echo of Kriqir’s laughter behind them.
“Don’t make me regret this,” the half-elf stood down, growling under his breath. Gair dropped into a moaning, limp pile at his feet.
“I won’t,” she promised.
“Well, what a fun little show to begin my reign over this foolish, lost world of Novella!” Kriqir clapped his hands dramatically as the three, bruised and bloodied adventurers turned to face him.
His face twisted into a sneer beneath a splatter of freckles and a long scar that stretched along his cheeks.
No doubt, from the day he watched the troll kill the Main Character in his tragic, cliché backstory.
“But if you don’t mind, I need to kill an army of ridiculous characters outside my tower before I scale the FOURTH WALL and obliterate the Great Authors once and for all. ”
Em took in a deep breath to brace herself as she slowly approached the necromancer. Behind her, she heard Gair and Roden shudder.
Kriqir revived his hissing ball of green magic, threading it between his fingers. “You are a fool to think mere originality would stop me from killing you all.”
He towered over her, his eyes glistening in victory. The wisps of his sizzling magic tickled the skin at Em’s throat. The necromancer leaned into her face, his minty breath filling her nostrils as his whisper tickled her cheeks.
“You lose, Em Smith,” Kriqir the Living spat.
Em flinched as his saliva caught in her lashes. But then she straightened her spine and met his glare. “What can destroy you, Kriqir?” she said. “Tell me before I die.”
“Nothing.”
His magic frothed.
Iciness rippled through her veins, and Em felt her life slowly being sucked as his green mist wrapped about her, hissing and biting into her bleeding skin. It snaked into her ears, into her nose, consuming her.
Em screamed past the freezing blaze as the necromancer’s power clawed into her soul, slowly ripping her apart.
Her mind fractured, and reality blurred about her.
She choked and gagged, unable to collapse in relief as Kriqir’s power crushed her from all sides.
Her bones cracked, and her heart stuttered.
There wasn’t enough air for her lungs, her airways blocked.
Every muscle and fiber in her being spasmed.
The magical energy from the dragon relic she’d consumed slowly fed strength back into her withering body.
She was torn between dying and reviving.
Over and over.
Now or never, Em.
Somehow, she found her raspy voice.
“You’re like a story, Kriqir. Nothing… can… destroy them.” Em let out an infuriated shriek past the stabbing pain as she fought to speak through the anguish. “It’s… always the same story. No matter how many changes or revisions. The meaning and ending stays the same.”
Kriqir pulled his magic back.
Exhaustion swept through Em, and she gasped for air. Her head rushed.
The necromancer leaned into her face, their noses touching, the sneer across his expression curling into a conceited grin. His minty presence overwhelmed her senses as Em’s body threatened to shut down—to sleep.
To die.
Fuck.
No.
Stay. Awake! She resisted the heaviness of her eyelids. Magic from the relic she’d consumed coursed in her blood now that his powers no longer sucked her life away. It blistered in her prickling fingers, festering to obliterate him. She cooled her emotions, taking in a deep breath.
“I’m going to enjoy killing you,” Kriqir breathed into her face.
“And I you,” Em said back.
“You can’t, fool. You said it yourself; you destroyed the relic.”
She licked the last powder off her lips.
The final surge of the relic’s magic rushed through her.
Em reached up and touched the necromancer’s cold cheek.
“Tell me, Kriqir, you’ve read enough books,” she mused, teasing at a lock of his soft dark hair, taking in his minty fragrance.
Em leaned closer to him, determined to see the ruined prophecy through.
“What’s the most powerful thing in the world? ”
“What?”
“What’s the most powerful thing in the world?” Em repeated.
“According to tropes, some say–it’s love,” Kriqir stammered, trying to pull away from her touch, but she hooked her shaky hands around the nape of his neck and pulled him closer. His breath hitched. “Others say it’s money– or–to believe in yourself.”
“No, my villainous friend.” Em laughed. “You obviously don’t read a lot of fairy tales.”
She leaned in and kissed Kriqir.