70. Thatcher
Thatcher
Darkness.
This wasn’t the kind of that follows sunset or lingers in corners. This oblivion devoured light, sound, hope.
I'd become intimate with the dark.
Because I had been falling forever.
My stomach lurched into my chest as the sensation of weightlessness claimed me once more. Vertigo twisted reality as Moros and I tumbled, locked in our desperate struggle. The Primordial grappled with me as we were pulled by some unseen force neither of us controlled.
"Inevitable," Moros hissed, his voice everywhere and nowhere. "Even bound to you, my power draws us across the cosmos."
I couldn't see him in this endless night, but I felt his essence—writhing, ancient, hungry—trying to consume mine. Trying to possess me like he'd possessed Olinthar.
"She'll never find you here," he taunted, voice slithering against my ear. "Your precious Thais can't follow where we're going."
Thais. Golden eyes flashing with determination. Midnight hair streaming behind her as she ran toward me, fingers outstretched, screaming my name as reality tore open.
The memory burned itself into my mind, becoming my anchor in the chaos.
As long as she was safe—as long as she was far from this monster—whatever happened to me didn't matter.
We passed through something then, a barrier that felt like spiderwebs stretching across my body. It held for a moment, suspending me in the gloom before ripping open and dropping us.
And then there was light. The night sky materialized around us, stars blazing like beacons. Below, pinpricks of firelight revealed a village nestled between mountains.
"Fascinating," Moros whispered. "So, the Esprithean pantheon lives on."
I fought against his grip, tried to wrench myself free while he was distracted. If I could break away now, perhaps I could?—
The lights vanished, and there was only darkness once more.
We crashed into something solid with a force that should have shattered every bone in my body. The impact reverberated through my flesh, my organs, my soul—a symphony of agony that left me gasping.
Crack.
The sound of my body breaking echoed into nothingness. Pain exploded through me, a constellation of suffering that burned brighter than any star. I couldn't breathe. Couldn't move. Couldn't scream.
Yet death refused me its mercy.
I felt my broken form slowly, agonizingly reconstructing itself. Bones knitting together. Tissue regenerating. All in complete, suffocating silence.
Was Moros gone? Had he been torn away from me?
"Get up, boy." The voice boomed from everywhere, destroying that fragile hope. "We have eternity ahead of us. Might as well start properly. "
I pushed myself upright, my body responding even though concepts like up and down seemed meaningless here.
"Where are we?" My voice sounded foreign, distant.
"A prison." He dragged the word out, savoring it.
"One of the old ones. The universe's way of righting the balance, or whatever delusional machinations the morally superior spew.
" A pause. "Fitting for the Esprithe to find themselves in possession of such a thing.
And how wonderfully ironic that you've trapped yourself here with me. "
I couldn’t see. Not here.
"Do you know what's special about these prisons?" Moros continued, voice wrapping around me like a toxin. "They change those who enter. Mark them permanently. Transform them in ways that can never be undone." His voice lowered to a whisper. "I wonder what it will make of you."
Tension rippled through the air.
"Wondering why I haven't taken over that body of yours yet?" Moros's voice oozed through the void. "The rules are... different here."
I felt his frustration ripple.
"How considerate of you to trap us both where I cannot fully claim you."
The realization bloomed in my chest, a small flame of triumph.
But my victory was short-lived. Moros didn't seem particularly troubled by this limitation.
"Fate’s gifts truly do change perspective," he mused. "There are so many lines, but which to follow? Which to pay attention to?"
Cold realization washed over me. He was using Vorinar's stolen power—the ability to see possible futures—to plot his escape. To find a path out of this prison.
"Sadly, it's already fading," Moros added.
"Such is the nature of stolen power. Without possessing the body directly, I can only borrow abilities temporarily.
The threads of fate grow dimmer each time I look.
" A soft, menacing laugh. "All the more reason to hurry our little quest, wouldn't you say? "
Over my dead fucking body, I thought fiercely. I'd spend eternity in this void if it meant keeping him trapped here forever.
Hot breath caressed my neck. I jerked away, startled, and Moros laughed—the sound crawling through the darkness.
"You’ll find a way to claw yourself out of here, boy," he said, voice suddenly tight with anticipation. "And then you will find her. The girl with opalescent eyes and hair spun of moonlight. You will bring her to me. And through you, I shall touch the world again."
"I'll never do it," I snarled, hatred burning away my fear.
His hum of consideration skittered across my skin. "You will do it, young Vivros. And you won't even remember why. Much like your half-brother."
"You've been feeding on him," I whispered, revulsion and understanding mingling in my gut. "On Chavore."
"Very good. Memories are such delicious things—fragments of experience, of identity. Did you know that when you take enough of them, the person becomes... malleable? Like clay waiting to be reshaped."
"You monster," I hissed, straining.
"Everyone is a tool in one way or another," he whispered, dismissive.
"He was a convenient vessel to observe you from a safe distance.
" His smile widened. "Though I must admit, his devotion to you was an unexpected complication.
He fought so hard, even as I stripped away more and more of who he was. "
I thought of all the times Chavore had seemed genuinely concerned for me, the moments of mentorship that felt authentic. Had those been him fighting through Moros's control? The realization stuck me straight through the heart.
"He's still in there," I said, more to myself than to Moros.
"Scraps, perhaps." Moros's voice was casual. "Nothing left of him to fight through it. Just as there won't be enough left of you to resist once I'm done."
I sensed Moros approaching, felt the ancient hunger radiating from him .
I ran.
My feet pounded as I fled blindly through the void. Direction was meaningless, distance an illusion. Yet I ran, heart hammering against my ribs, lungs burning with exertion.
But there was no escaping him.
"Where are you going, little godling?" His voice was everywhere. "There is nowhere to hide from me. Not here. Not ever."
I felt claws scraping against my mind. Digging.
Thais. Remember Thais.
I clutched the memory. My twin. My other half.
Thais. Indigo eyes turned golden. Midnight hair. Defiance personified.
I remembered our childhood—hiding her powers from the village, swimming in the cove at dawn, sharing secrets in our small room while Sulien snored in the next.
The way she'd curl her fingers around mine when frightened but would never admit her fear.
Her voice, raspy from shouting over crashing waves.
The sound of her breathing as we slept back-to-back, twin heartbeats synchronizing.
And I remembered that final moment—her running toward me, desperation etched into every line of her face, newly golden eyes wide with horror, fingers outstretched, screaming my name as reality tore open between us.
Moros circled, patient as death itself. His presence brushed against my consciousness, tearing tiny fragments from the edges of the memory.
"You can't hold onto her forever," he whispered, voice crawling beneath my skin.
I ran again. The darkness seemed thicker here, pressing against my skin like tar. Time stretched, twisted. Had I been running for hours? Days?
When I finally collapsed, gasping for breath in a place without air, Moros was waiting.
"Let's try again, shall we?" His hunger was palpable, writhing in the shadows around me .
Thais. Remember Thais.
Her voice—what did she sound like?
Golden eyes. Black hair. My twin. The girl who ran after me, reaching across the tear in reality.
"What was her name again?" Moros taunted, voice dripping with false innocence.
"Thais," I snarled. "Her name is Thais Morvaren."
"For now."
I fled again, though I knew escape was impossible. Time became an abstract concept, meaningless in the endless void.
Moros found me again. Or perhaps he'd never left.
Remember her. Remember.
Golden eyes. Black hair. A girl. Someone important.
We'd grown up together in... where was it? A coastal village. I could almost smell the salt air, feel the sand between my toes.
What was her relation to me? A sister. No—a twin. My twin sister.
And her name...
Thais.
Yes, that was it. Thais.
"Your resistance is admirable," Moros said, his voice almost gentle. "But ultimately futile."
He fed again, and I screamed into the void as chunks of myself disappeared.
The void became my entire existence. Had there ever been anything else?
Sometimes I remembered running, though I couldn't recall what I was running from. Or to.
Remember her.
Who?
A girl with golden eyes and black hair. She'd reached for me as I was pulled away.
I couldn't remember her name anymore. Just the eyes—fierce, determined, filled with grief.
Why did thinking about her make my chest ache?
"Almost done now," a voice whispered. Had it always been there?
Golden eyes. Reaching for me.
Who had golden eyes? Why was that important?
The memory slipped away like water through cupped hands.
Who am I?
The question echoed in the emptiness where my identity had once been. I searched desperately for something to anchor myself to. Nothing. There was nothing.
Who am I?
I asked the void, but it offered no answers.
Who...?
Golden eyes. Black hair. Reaching for me.
Darkness devoured everything.
"Come, child."
A voice pierced the shadows.
"How did you find yourself in here?"
I felt a presence moving, a figure materializing from the shadows themselves. Though I couldn't see her clearly, I sensed her.
"I am Queen Andrid Valtyr," she said, moving closer.
I braced myself for whatever new torment this entity would inflict.
"Darkness does not always equate to evil," she said, as if sensing my thoughts. "Just as light does not always represent good. I prefer to exist in the spaces between."
An odd calm washed over me as I felt her presence.
"I do not know what you seek," she said, her voice softening. "But I can give you purpose. A place within my realm. Service that will give meaning to your existence."
I felt myself slipping deeper.
"The choice is yours," she said, extending her hand toward me. " Though I don't imagine you have much time before the horrors of the Void inflict their curses."
I reached out blindly, grasping for her hand.
"What is your name?" she asked as our fingers touched.
I opened my mouth but found only emptiness.
This queen’s form was becoming slightly more visible—pale skin, eyes like bottomless wells, hair that seemed to dissolve into shadow.
"A gift from the Void, or a man born from the ether itself?"
Her eyes sharpened—interest, calculation, purpose.
I let her lead me.
"Aether," she said finally. "I shall call you Aether."