3
Kora
The blinding light settled and Kora blinked as her vision came into focus. Her gut dropped as the clearing of the Emerald Forest surrounded her, the familiar clawed roots and branches reaching for the singular beam of light breaking through the thick canopy in the centre.
Breathe.
Kora fought shallow breaths, her lungs heaving against the pressing band of terror from being back here.
Nature’s prison. Her legs moved before her mind did and she raced across the clearing, jumping around hand-like branches for the ocean.
She cried out, the strong pump of her muscles thundering in her ears.
She was strong.
Perhaps Blake’s wretched gift wasn’t as powerful as he thought. Deep, crushing pain cracked through her at the surrounding emerald, mimicking Blake’s stare. She needed to get out of here. She needed to escape. She didn’t care how. This was her only chance.
The sweet melody of cresting waves crashing onto the shore soothed her mind in an instant, and the salty sting filling her nose, reminding her she was so close to freedom. Tears streamed down her eyes as the sea stretched before her.
Yes.
As she tore through the edge of willow and pine trees, her foot snagged on rocks and she tumbled forwards, landing on a pile of soft moss. Her head whipped up . . . and she was back at the start of the clearing, the encroaching forest looming over her.
“No, no, no,” she moaned as she pushed up, darting across the clearing, determined to reach the ocean.
She tried to wake her inner water beast up so she could summon her gift, but was met with emptiness.
She couldn’t even manipulate the very tears on her face as she hovered at the edge of the forest once again.
Carefully navigating the rocks, Kora stepped across the threshold and her vision warped, darkness bleeding into the edges. She was back in the clearing again.
“No!” she pleaded. “No! Let me out!”
Over and over, Kora ran, wet breaths breaking free of her chest as she made it to the edge of the forest before winding up back in the clearing.
After what felt like hours, she collapsed to her knees in the middle of the clearing, beside the singular beam of light.
She cried into her hands, wondering what fresh hell she’d been submitted to.
Almighty Thanos, she must be dead.
“It amuses me to hear my name being used in that way.” Thanos’ cold touch spread across her shoulder.
Kora reared back. The boulder within the light had moulded into the shape of a simple chair, with a cloaked figure resting within, his face hidden beneath a dark hood. She froze, a tremble overcoming her as she faced the God of Death.
“Thanos . . . you’re here. You’re in the mortal realm.”
He sighed, his long, bony fingers pushed together in contemplation. “I hoped you’d realise by now, gifted one. You are still in the in-between.”
Kora’s brow furrowed. She could feel the mossy plain beneath her, the scent of pine and soil filled her senses, and the sound of the rolling ocean soothed her mind.
Thanos clicked his pale fingers, and those senses evaporated in an instant, replaced with nothingness.
She flinched, cringing at the absence of life, and with another click, Thanos returned it.
“We are where your body is. I have created this environment to be more . . . accepting, for your mind.” His tone was stern, and Kora shuffled away until something scraped her back. “Please, sit.”
An identical chair had erected within the clearing and she hesitantly sat against the warm stone, placing her scarred hands in her lap.
She peered down at her filthy clothes, torn and covered in mud and blood.
Her arms were bare, the sleeves once torn by Erick, and her hand flew to her throat, greeted by a band of thick metal.
Kora shut her eyes. Inhaled once. Twice.
It wasn’t real. This place wasn’t real.
“You could’ve put me in better attire if this is your creation,” she muttered.
“I created the space, the key elements for life. Your mind is filling in the details.” He gestured to the ocean lingering behind him, and Kora sucked in a sharp breath as yearning filled her.
“The same for the memories you try to recover. Your imagination bleeds into reality, creating scenarios that seem rather . . . abstract.”
She forced herself to change the details, to bring the ocean closer, to remove this metal collar from her neck, weighing her down. She focused until her eyes felt like they were going to pop from their sockets.
“I can’t change it,” she sighed, rubbing her left temple. “Even my headache is here with us.” Except the pain stretched down the side of her face, and into her neck. That was new.
“Perhaps you don’t want to let go of what happened to you.
” Thanos sat back, and Kora caught a fleeting wisp of hair peeking beneath the hood.
She bit her lip, as Thanos tucked the pale strand back under his hood, disappearing into the swirling, sparkling grey that filled the space where his head should be.
“Why would I want to hold onto it? I became a prisoner. I’ve been betrayed by everyone. I have nothing left.”
With a wave of his hand, an image materialised beside Thanos, shimmering in a watery grey layer in the middle of the air.
Within, images of Blake flitted through it, smiling and laughing.
Kora painfully blinked, her heart catching in her throat as his arms circled around an unknown female within a fire-lit room.
Plants and flowers lined every shelf, and his earth-based magic infused the room, dancing around the couple like shimmering, floral vines.
“What is this?” she barely whispered.
“A life he could have had, if his father had been absent.” Thanos flicked his wrist again, and the Blake that Kora knew filled the portal.
His sharp features, and cold, emerald eyes lined by shadows bore into her.
She shivered. Behind him, a secondary shadow lingered, mimicking his stance as citizens cowered in his presence.
Gods, even when she hated him, he was still handsome.
“Why are you showing me him?” Her hands clenched the stone armrests, her fingers digging deep enough to crack it.
“He has broken your heart. In order for you to survive, you need to heal.” Was that softness in Thanos’ tone? Kora shook her head, unable to comprehend that she was suddenly in a gods-damned therapy session with Thanos.
“Why?” she snapped. Why did a god care about her broken heart?
Why did the god, the first god, desire to taunt her with memories of betrayal?
Or force her into the recesses of her mind to the point of pain and sorrow consuming her so wholly, she no longer knew where she began and the darkness ended.
“So I can fulfil Calypso’s plan? Why won’t you tell me what it is? ”
Within the swirling grey of his hood, a pair of eyes flashed, barely discernible, but Kora caught the faint outline of black and white. And it scared her.
“As I said before, I do not interfere with another god’s will,” he rumbled, and the clearing shuddered, leaves falling from the canopy of trees.
“Or will you not interfere with Calypso? You’re the God of Death. You are the foundation of life and everything in-between. What hold does she bear over you?”
“Enough!” He stood, towering over Kora. His height stretched and stretched, until he was the size of a mountain.
The clearing rippled, acclimating to his sheer size.
Kora reined in her scream, craning into her stone chair as a mere inhale from Thanos cracked her hearing in two.
“I do not need to be here, Kordelia Jones. I can take this all away and leave you to wither in your rotting body.” She winced at the volume of his voice, a ringing filling her ears.
“Good, maybe I’ll die quicker!”
Thanos paused, his form slowly shrinking down until he matched Kora in height. She ignored the sting of her previous name. She hadn’t had the chance to unpack that she was the daughter of Davy Jones yet. Nope. Another heartbreak, another betrayal she tucked away into the shadows of her mind.
“Is that your plan? To rest with me in Umbra?” he spoke softly.
“I’m good as dead anyway. I’ve been in Blake’s prison for too long, I’ve spent more time in the void than any alive person should. You said my time was coming, just let it be now.” Kora shrugged, dampening the distant panic, the small splinter within her that still begged for life.
Thanos sat back, his faceless form observing quietly as he drummed his elongated fingers against the simple stone.
Memories of the Eternal Tryk filled the space between them, of Kora begging him to end her life, to take it away.
All too soon, they’d returned to this impasse, except this time, deflation filled Kora, an emptiness hollowing out her drained essence until she no longer cared.
“I may welcome all souls into my realm, but I’m not ready to welcome you yet,” Thanos said. “Your destiny is already in motion, and you will meet your fate at the hands of your own.”
“I know,” Kora sobbed, tears tracking down her cheeks once again. She hadn’t cried this much since the slaughter of exiles she’d so willingly committed. “You recite it every time we meet.”
“I do not wish to see you cry, it pains me.”
“Then take my pain away to spare yours.”
Thanos sighed. Such a human reaction for a god, and Kora wiped her nose, frowning at his sudden sincerity. Was he like this with all mortals? Did he strive to reassure them all? Or was it her connection to Calypso that made her special?
“I cannot, my dear. But I can offer you something else instead.” Thanos’ hood shifted, and the outline of his eyes appeared. Blazing black lined by gleaming white. “I want to play a game, any game. If I win, you will live. If you win, then you may die.”