21
Kora
Darkness. It was everywhere. Consuming her, submerging her . . . drowning her.
Kora screamed, writhing as it pooled, reaching like the suckers of a kraken. Their ghastly holes and lines of razor teeth glinted, flashing against the black of the void. Ice spread across her skin every time one slithered by, their slimy exteriors puckering over her emaciated body.
“No! Get away from me!”
Gravity vanished, and she free-fell, suspended in a limitless expanse of fear. Her cries echoed, bouncing around, vibrating down the length of her spine where claws answered in return. Sharp talons, shredding her despair, her grief, allowing the inner rage to emerge.
White light bloomed, blinding her eyes, and she grabbed onto the tentacles, screaming with all her might as their touch seared her palms until they turned purple.
“So, weak,” a voice answered. “So, pathetic.”
Kora yelled in response, grabbing onto every sucker, every slimy, black snake as she descended further away from the light.
“You will fail. You are not blessed.” The mysterious voice laughed, a sinister cackle that pounded Kora’s ears until they bled.
Through the rays of the light, water approached, a vast, bubbling, sickening wave. Black and thick, acrid and cold. Kora released the tendrils, folding her arms around herself as she inevitably plummeted, the tar latching onto her body.
“Who are you?” Kora rasped as it circled around her neck, choking her. It toyed with her hair, pulling on the strands and smothering her body.
“I am the one who was forgotten. I am your fate. I am your end.”
“STOP!”
Kora blinked, a cool breeze ruffling her camisole and trousers. It was dark, but the moon graced the Mist, creating a greyed veil that reminded her of the Eternal Tryk. She inhaled sharply, her hands flying to her neck, still feeling the remnants of the tar pit coiled around her throat.
“Don’t jump!”
Kora blinked again, her mind hazed, tinges of red lingering at the edges of her vision. The forest lining the hill to Mistros City loomed before her. Autumn was already settling in, creating an array of warmth among the trees in the dark. She leaned forward and gasped as her toes met cool air.
She was on her balcony.
“Kora! Climb down instead!”
A figure emerged from the forest. Her youthful face was familiar, dressed in a shimmering grey gown, with matching hair blending into the Mist. Kora’s heart raced as she fell back from the balustrade, colliding with a balcony chair.
What the fuck was happening?
“Come down, cildbah!” Kora’s ears pricked at the Devanian, and she peered through the iron bars matching the windows. The female approached, halting before the neatly trimmed hedges lining the pathways below the west wing.
“Agatha?” Kora breathed, as beryl eyes came into focus, evolving colours continuously changing.
She didn’t waste a second as she hooked a leg over the balcony, grabbing onto the winding ivy that thrived on this side of the castle.
Every descent she made, her heart pounded faster, the distance closing between her and Agatha.
How was she here? How did she survive? Kora had seen her body.
Had Agatha been unconscious instead? It didn’t matter.
She was alive. Kora dropped to the ground, her bare feet smarting against the sandy pebbled pathways.
As she spun, a furrow formed between her brows.
Agatha was further away, gliding down the main pathway between the forest.
“Wait!” Kora lurched, her heart in her throat as she raced after Agatha. Every step she took, Agatha grew farther away, speeding down the hill. Damn, that old woman could run.
“Keep up, Kora!” Agatha called, her voice lighter than Kora remembered, the usual husk muted.
Her lungs burned, her weakened body struggling to keep up with Agatha’s swiftness. Her bones scraped and Kora groaned at how knobbly her joints had become. As Kora stumbled at the base of the hill, the scent of the sea drifting through the city’s structure, Agatha finally stopped.
She lingered inside the threshold of the city; a clear, gleaming gate lined with white silver that separated Kora from Agatha.
Beyond were the smoothly rounded buildings, adorned with blue roofs and golden weathervanes.
It was dark, the lanterns unlit, the houses quiet. Not a soul walked the streets.
Beyond that . . . was the sea.
But all was silent. Not even the salted ocean tinged the air. Waves rippled in the distance but they were quiet, and Kora inhaled deeply. A musky tone tickled her senses, powdery with a bitter note.
“Agatha?” Kora neared the gate, quivering in the cool night air.
Her lavender camisole and trousers did nothing to help, and she tentatively toed the boundary.
Agatha slowly pivoted, a smile gracing her plump face.
Her hair was unbound, sparkling threads woven throughout it, and her eyes had finally settled, remaining a deep violet.
“Come, my child.” Agatha opened her arms and Kora raced forward, a tear sliding down her flushed cheek.
As Kora’s arms circled around Agatha, she vanished.
Black and purple smoke erupted, and Kora blinked as the city came into focus.
The lanterns burned, illuminating the city with wonder, and through the Mist, figures strolled, filling the streets.
Waves of the ocean crashed, salt mixing with scents of market stall food.
Kora staggered through the gate, and gasps and cries rang as the smoke coiled around her, toying with her.
“No . . .” she whispered as citizens’ eyes flared, their stares pinned to her scar, to her hair. To the shadows that played with her.
“It’s Kordelia! She’s returned!”
“What’s happened to her?”
“She’s surrounded by dark magic!”
“No, wait, I—” Kora reached out to a male stranger, desperate to explain, but he recoiled. His disgust and fear were palpable, his elderly features horrified, and Kora’s gut knotted, her legs shaking violently.
“You’re the hunter!” he yelled.
“It was a mistake!” she pleaded. “I didn’t know. I promise!”
The smoke mirrored her, and the citizens ran as it raised her arms. Kora hissed as talons dug into her skin and a pair of sharp purple eyes glowed in the darkness.
Her water beast growled, growing louder, and screams echoed around her.
The ocean roared in the distance, and Kora bellowed as she tried to push forward to it.
She shouldn’t be here. Galenites feared her. She had killed their families, their friends. She had to leave.
“Kora!”
Aryn darted through the shadows, his eyes burning as bright as the lanterns. The darkness peeled back, parting for him like he was the prince of the night. The talons disappeared, those purple eyes shooting up into the sky.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he murmured, revealing a cloak from a satchel slung across his shoulder, replacing his usual longbow. She shivered as he covered her hair, tugging her back towards him.
“Agatha . . .” Kora whimpered. “I saw her.”
“You were probably dreaming.” He spoke dryly as he pulled her towards the gate. “You can’t be seen right now. Word has spread of what you did in the empire.”
“They fear me. They hate me.”
Her gut hollowed, as Aryn guided her into the shadows of the forest, helping her walk back up the hill to Windspire Castle. Her breathing became wet and laboured, her own darkness coating her chest in ichor.
“This has Hector written all over,” Aryn growled, and Kora was unnerved to hear him speak such a way. “He must’ve leaked the information.”
Pale-stone mercenaries stormed the entrance of the castle, swords glinting in the faint moonlight, and Aryn waved them down as he escorted Kora inside. Before the iron doors slammed shut, she glanced back to the city. Fear smothered her again as screams echoed up the hill and into the forest.