Amick #2
“Amick was right about you not forgiving Creed over your Spyvie, Snuggles. You haven’t.
I used to sit outside your door and listen to you cry over him and over how you felt like no one loved you.
You didn’t understand why Creed didn’t love you when you were always the one to take his pain away. You didn’t just harmonize his power…”
Riven shifts from side to side. Kyzen tracks the movement.
“You reshaped it.”
“What?” Creed breathes.
“You trained his power not to kill on contact. You didn’t want to tell him that it wasn’t only because of your Spyvie but also because the whip that left scars across your back is because of his power. You can’t hold things over his head when he doesn’t even know everything.”
Both Creed’s and my necks snap toward Riven. He shuts his eyes for a moment before shrugging.
“I didn’t know that’s what I was doing at first.”
“When did you know?” Creed asks.
“When she had you and the God of Pain embed your power in that whip and it didn’t kill me on the first lash. I knew I changed something. And I had to continue to change it.”
“How long did you keep doing it?”
“A few more years. Then I didn’t again until we got to the Godsdawn and we stepped out of the Veil. I didn’t know what would change, so I just harmonized it around the times of the Veilings. I only did it a few more times after that. I haven’t had to touch your power in a really long time.”
“And you knew this? Or well, assumed this whole time?” Creed asks, focusing on Kyzen.
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you say something?”
“I was protecting Riven. Protecting you.”
“From what? What the hell could the God of Death possibly need protecting from?”
“From our father!” Kyzen shouts. “If he had known Riven was changing your power, he would’ve killed him.
You would’ve become what you fear. I was protecting you from yourself.
You’re so fucking stubborn. You would’ve forbidden Riven from doing what he was doing so you could figure it out on your own.
That’s why when Amick keeps shit to himself, you don’t push him because you do the same damn thing.
You understand his reasoning better than any of us. ”
He holds Creed’s glare as he twists his sword, pointing it at him as if he’s pointing his finger.
“That’s why you haven’t said anything about our souls changing. They’re less tainted. You’ve known that.”
My stomach drops and my heart shudders.
“And you haven’t said a word about splitting them. About tying them to Thayla.”
My head snaps toward Creed.
“You knew what the Vitos meant the second they opened their mouths. You’re waiting to see if our taint completely fades before splitting them and attaching them to her because you’re afraid of what it might do to her.
Yet you haven’t talked about it to any of us.
You know our connection to her is deeper, but you haven’t said the first thing. ”
“Creed…” I say, staring at him.
“How do you know that?” Creed asks rather than answer me.
Kyzen lets out a quiet laugh as he lowers the sword toward the ground and tilts his head back to the ceiling.
“Because I am Time. You don’t get to hide from it. It holds everything together. Past, present, and future.”
Time is unavoidable.
You can’t keep secrets from it.
It will always tell.
No one moves at first as we settle into a silence that isn’t silent at all.
The room is too loud and too charged. Our breathing is uneven and sharp. If I can hear my own heartbeat, so can they. A constant drip echoes somewhere between us. Probably blood. Riven’s or mine. Maybe both.
Kyzen’s swords hang loose at his sides now, the tips barely grazing the floor.
No one reaches for him or moves toward him as his breathing slows, growing deeper with each inhale.
Creed wipes a hand across his nose, staring at the smear of red on his knuckles like he doesn’t understand how it got there. Like he doesn’t understand how any of this happened.
Riven spits a wad of blood on the ground before dragging a hand through his hair.
“You should’ve told me.”
His voice is rough. Not loud. Not angry. Neither is his gaze as it meets mine.
“Why?”
“Because I would’ve—” He huffs out something that almost sounds like a laugh, but there’s nothing behind it. “I would’ve stopped. Teasing you. Taunting you.”
“I didn’t want that.”
Confusion races across his face.
“Teasing about my lamps, yes. I would’ve liked that to stop, but nothing else. I didn’t want you to know the truth, then have that look you give me deepen.”
“What look?” he asks.
I hesitate.
“Like I’m something that needs fixing.”
His expression twists. “I never—”
“You do,” I cut in. Not harsh. Just honest. “I eventually decided I’d rather you look at me like that than me tell you the truth, then you…change.”
“You’ve literally tried changing me my entire life.”
“No. I…” I pause and take a deep breath. I attempt to take my Binder’s sage advice and put myself in his shoes. “I know it comes off that way, but I’m not trying to change you. Anytime you would do something that could be dangerous or bring you danger, I just tried to redirect you.”
“I’m not a pet you can train.”
“Why not?” Creed asks him. “You trained my power like a pet.”
“I did not.” Riven shoots back. “I didn’t even know what I was doing at first.”
“Then why not tell me once you realized it?”
“Would you or would you not have shut it down like everything else you don’t like? Did you really want to hear that it was your power leaving marks across my back when there wasn’t shit you could do about it?”
“That’s not—” Creed cuts himself off, jaw tightening. “That’s not fair.”
“No,” Riven mutters, “none of this is.”
Silence presses back in, but it’s different now. It’s tense but not hostile. It’s almost…vulnerable.
Kyzen finally moves.
Not toward any of us. Just forward enough to plant the sword fully into the floor, like he’s done holding it up on his own.
“I didn’t know how to do this differently,” he says. No one looks at him right away. “I kept all of this to myself every time one of you asked me to or every time I’ve figured something out myself because every option ended with one of you getting hurt. So I chose to carry it instead.”
My throat burns when I swallow my blood-tinged saliva.
“We’ve never given you much of another choice. You’ve always been our constant,” I say, peering over at him. He glances at his feet as soon as our eyes meet.
He’s trying to wrangle in the darkness lurking in his mind.
For a second, no one has anything to say.
Then Creed exhales, long and slow, dragging a hand down his face.
“We’re all idiots.”
A breath of a laugh escapes Kyzen before he can stop it.
“Yeah. That tracks,” Riven mutters and shakes his head.
It’s a small comment, but it breaks something open.
I believe survival mode has left all of us in a position to want to protect each other but carry the burden of that on our own.
Ridiculous.
We were created together. We’ll always be stronger together.
I shift a step closer to Kyzen. Not much, but enough that it doesn’t continue to appear like it’s us against him.
Riven, then Creed follows.
Kyzen hesitates. His eyes scan across us, and I can’t help it as mine jerks down to his chest. The sight of it hurts my heart.
He didn’t deserve that.
Neither did Riven.
He finally steps toward us.
“No more secrets,” he says, quieter, calmer now.
“Yeah,” Riven adds after a beat. “No more deciding shit for each other either.”
Creed huffs out a breath. “That’ll be a challenge.”
“Good,” I mumble. “Challenges are good for the mind.”
Riven scoffs at me. “We have Thayla. We don’t need any more challenges.”
His own words seem to take him by surprise, and a desperation crosses his gaze. Kyzen runs his hand down the back of his neck, while Creed’s body falls still.
My soul jerks painfully in my chest.
Mysenta…we’re falling apart without you.