Chapter 12 Kaden
KADEN
Small vermin scurried out of my way as my boots ate up the cracked cobblestone alleyway.
Shouts came from the nearby tavern, but I ignored them and strode past. I pulled the cloak tighter around my neck and hissed, the phantom pain of Samkiel’s blade still fresh.
Rain pelted down, soaking the ground and forming small puddles.
The water ran along the gutters carved in the middle of the streets and drained into the rank sewage below the city.
Like she had with so many others, Nismera had let this part of the realms go.
The lonely, poor, and forgotten inhabited this place.
No one would bat an eye at my arrival. They were too busy and stressed about their own survival, but I wore my hood low, regardless.
I didn’t want to be recognized, and my powers had been so erratic since I’d returned that I didn’t trust them enough to change shape.
A woman giggled up ahead, and I ducked left, turning down the twisted alley.
My stomach revolted, begging me to turn back.
I needed to feed, but I couldn’t yet. No one could know I was alive, especially him.
My first priority was to find Isaiah, and to do so, I needed to keep a low profile.
So when another vermin crossed my path, I leaped.
The ugly, dirty creature squealed and then went quiet.
Bones crunched between my teeth as I rose, sucking the blood from the small body.
I fed, my stomach welcoming the blood with ease, yet it did not quell the savage hunger.
My body ached for food, so hungry it felt as if I were starving to death.
I tossed the desiccated corpse to the side, and it landed with a clatter among the trash bins.
I wiped my mouth, my eyes roaming for another.
Laughter echoed from the building, shadows dancing across the window.
One heartbeat, another, another, and talons replaced the nails on my fingers.
I stalked forward. Perhaps they would relieve the ache.
“My, my, my, how the mighty have fallen.” That damned voice.
I stopped as if shaken from a trance, my talons and fangs receding. The drumming in my head that was urging me to kill, to feed, quieted, yet I refused to turn and look at it.
“Leave me.”
She chuckled, the voice softer and higher now. A feminine hand slid over my shoulder, coming to rest high on my chest. “I couldn’t leave you if I wanted to. You’re going to do something for me.”
I could feel its breath against my neck, and I pulled away, spinning toward her.
My hands fisted, and my body went still, the ache of hunger in my gut turning to nausea.
Death wore Dianna’s skin. I hated how my heart always reacted to her.
It thrummed, calling to her, even after everything.
I hated the way that no matter what I did, I could not make that selfish organ unlove her.
My footsteps echoed against the stone as I snarled and stalked away. “Why must you always wear her face?”
She kept up with me easily, as if I’d set a leisurely pace. “Because it is the only one you respond to.”
Another snarl left my lips, and I pulled my already-drenched cloak tighter around me.
“You cannot ignore me forever.”
I turned down another alleyway, sprinting away from the cold one.
She didn’t follow, and when I glanced back, Death just stood, wearing Dianna’s form and watching me with shiny, opaque, dead eyes.
My feet pounded on the cobblestone, yet I couldn’t elude its presence no matter how far I ran.
I felt the chill of it in my bones, and my very soul ached with it.
Death’s touch was a forlorn thing devoid of hope and warmth.
It had been so since the day I rose. Death had followed me since then.
While every form was an assault on my mind, I could ignore them all but hers.
I had fled to every forgotten realm, searching for Isaiah and hoping to find a semblance of peace, yet there was no escape, and Death followed.
I was different. My thoughts and feelings were my own, but I was numb. It was as if Oblivion had stripped me to my atoms, and when Death brought me back, he had missed some pieces. I was a shell of what I’d been, and I knew it.
Weaving my way through the buildings, I avoided crossing paths with anyone else.
I swung around the last corner, and a raggedy, half-fallen building loomed before me.
I didn’t slow down until I reached the door and slipped inside.
Slamming it behind me, I rested my forehead against it, the rotting wood rough and cold.
My breath emerged in misty puffs as I tried to slow my racing heart.
I stepped back, my hand on the icy knob, and paused, afraid of what would be on the other side.
My teeth clenched, and I growled, jerking the door open.
Only a dark, empty, run-down alley stared back, chipped bricks and mortar glaring at me.
The cool night air curled forward, but it wasn’t the cold outside I should have feared, but the one inside.
A soft hum filled the abandoned room, a melody I did not know.
“You hum?” I asked, refusing to turn around.
Nails tapped against wood. “Music is one thing that transcends the stars. You can find it in every culture, upon every tongue. Even the dead that make up my kingdom sing a tune.”
I was in no mood for a lesson.
“Why can I not escape you?” I asked and slowly turned to face the dark and worn room. It used to be a tavern, but now it was in shambles. The bar and tables were broken, and glass littered the floor. Vermin squeaked and disappeared into the chewed-up walls.
Death leaned an arm against a broken windowsill, moonlight spilling in through the shattered and jagged window. “Well, you are dead, the living dead. It’s all a technicality, really.”
My head throbbed, and I was tired of the riddles. “What does that even mean?”
A small rumble of laughter left her, the sound soft and throaty. “What makes you tick, Kaden?”
Her question caught me off guard. “What?”
“What breathes life into your bones? Gives you a reason? I’ve seen your birth and your death. I’ve seen what you are willing to do, but to what end? Are you seeking a throne?”
I blinked at her. My throat felt tight. I didn’t know if it was what I had seen past Oblivion, my own newfound self-awareness, or that it was Death in Dianna’s skin asking, but for the first time, I truly thought about the question. My chest rose as I inhaled deeply and slowly let out my breath.
“Perhaps a throne, but I … I think what I truly was striving for was power.”
Still, Death’s nails clicked against the table, her eyes narrowing. Death tsked. “I don’t think so.”
“Oh?” I asked. “Then enlighten me.”
Death leaned forward, the silvery light casting her shadow deeper into the room. Her form shimmered and warped until Alistair sat in front of me, his chest soaked with dark blood. He gripped the hilt of the dagger protruding from his chin and yanked it free.
“I’d say family,” Alistair said, placing the blade on the crumbling table. The pale skin of his hand darkened to a deep, rich brown, and I looked up. Tobias stared at me, his skin burned and mangled. “You created a false one, trying to fill a void you dare not admit exists.”
“No.”
Tobias stood, his form swirling and twisting in on itself.
When it settled, Samkiel looked at me, his silver eyes glowing in the darkness.
My pulse quickened, and my hand fisted the doorknob, ready to escape.
Samkiel stood in council garbs stained silver with his blood.
The skin under his eyes and around his mouth was burned from the release of his power when he opened the gates.
Blood oozed from the gash I had made with the spear along his side.
He stepped toward me, and I yanked at the door behind me, but it did not budge.
Memories flashed through my mind, images that were branded into my soul.
I watched as the sky rippled, and I saw myself charge Samkiel.
His dark blade rose so quickly that I didn’t have time to react.
I saw it swing for my head and felt the brief pinch of pain, but the agony of the knowledge that I’d failed Isaiah overshadowed it.
Then I was in absolute nothingness. That was what drove me mad.
I was afraid to close my eyes now, the pure blackness a stark reminder of where I was, where I’d return.
Death, wearing Samkiel’s face, stopped in front of me.
He brushed a piece of dirt from my cloak, and I flinched and turned my head away, squeezing my eyes shut.
My heart thudded, sweat beading on my skin.
I needed to get away from him, out of this damn room.
A low growl rumbled from my throat, the Ig’Morruthen thrashing beneath my skin, wanting to burst free.
“It’s what you always wished for.” His voice grew closer, his boots echoing through the room, through my skull.
I told myself it wasn’t Samkiel, but my body did not respond.
“It is not a unique desire. Most who live and breathe crave a place of love and acceptance. A family is something to live and fight for.” He leaned close enough that I could feel his breath. “To die for.”
My skin prickled, and I shoved past Death.
His form burst into shadows before solidifying into Samkiel once more.
My feet tripped over upturned and broken chairs, crashing through the debris as I scrambled for an exit.
The door at the back was my escape, but it slammed shut just as I reached it, nearly bashing me in the face.
My hands latched onto the knob, and I twisted with such force it should have broken, yet it did not budge.