Chapter Four #2
I’d built their bodies and gear, yes—but now came their souls.
The truly difficult part. My father had never taught me how to do any of this, because why would he?
Lucifer didn’t help anyone unless it benefited him.
I was figuring it all out as I went, blindly testing my powers with an angel over one shoulder and a demon over the other.
If I could build their bodies out of Hell’s resources, then I damn well could give them back their souls.
I believed that more now than I had before I started this.
The only thing holding me back was fear of harming Rathiel.
I never wanted to hurt him. And I knew using his essence would hurt like a bitch.
Perhaps I could do this without hurting either Calyx or Rathiel. If it came down to will and magical control, maybe I had more say in how this went down.
Centering myself, I reached deeper and called to the many souls surrounding me. I couldn’t see them, but I could feel—and hear—them, whispering to one another. The moment I summoned them, they stirred, like little fireflies flickering toward me in my mind’s eye.
Korrak’s soul buzzed toward me, and that was when reality crashed into me.
Korrak was a brimlord.
And brimlords came from Ezrion’s essence. Not Calyx’s. Not Rathiel’s.
I froze, staring at the little light zipping around me. How had we not thought of that? I could resurrect my army, yes. And I could reshape them into hellspawn. But I only had Rath and Calyx’s essences available to me. Meaning, I could only shape my army into vampires and umbrari.
That meant I would never again see Varz, Korrak, Sareth, and the countless others as I had known them. Not without access to the other fallen angels—four of whom were dead. How could I resurrect the soldiers I had known without the correct essence?
I had only Rathiel and Calyx.
And…me.
The thought crashed over me like a tidal wave.
Like Levi said, I wasn’t a fallen angel. I’d never stepped foot inside Heaven, but I was a pure-blooded celestial, just one born south of the border. Lucifer had never corrupted me with a demon. But I still had an essence, right? Every living creature did.
As far as I knew, my father had never tried creating a hellspawn with his own essence.
I’d always assumed he couldn’t since he’d never merged with a demon.
But what if that wasn’t the reason? What if he’d never done it simply because of who he was?
Lucifer never weakened himself, especially when he had minions who could do the dirty work for him.
Perhaps it had nothing to do with the demonic essence, and everything to do with my father’s selfishness.
I had just created hundreds of soldiers, shaped them from my will and my memory.
But what if I could do more?
What if my essence gave me more freedom to do as I wished? Not only would it spare Rathiel and Calyx the pain, but maybe I could recreate my friends and my soldiers exactly as I remembered them. As brimlords, netherons, vexori….
There was only one way to find out, right?
I took another deep breath, then placed a hand over my chest and reached even deeper than before. Past the forest roots. Past the blinding light and into my core.
The brightness here wasn’t like anything I’d ever seen. It pulsed with raw, radiant light—so pure it hurt to look at, even with my mind’s eye. It wasn’t fire or shadow. It wasn’t anything I could name. This was me, stripped bare. My essence—my soul. And it was beautiful.
I approached it slowly, stunned by the raw energy pulsing from it. Without a thought, I reached out, hesitated, then slowly brushed the light with my fingertips.
Power surged into me. Unfiltered, raw power.
It was gentle. Golden. It bloomed through my body like sunlight warming cold skin. It filled every inch of me—my veins, my bones, my muscles. For the first time ever, I felt whole and so incredibly powerful. Like I could accomplish anything in that moment, including killing my father.
But a moment later, I felt something else.
Something faint, but strong.
Awareness prickled an instant before a dark, looming presence grew right in front of me. It spread and continued to grow until it took the formless shape of a creeping fog. There was no sound, no warning. Just…blackness. Dense and suffocating.
My breath caught and every instinct screamed at me to run, but I couldn’t seem to move.
It swelled larger until I could barely breathe. And my power, so full and whole only moments ago, wavered, flickering like a candle in the dark.
The fog reached forward, a tendril of inky darkness stretching toward me—toward my essence. My heart stuttered the moment they connected, and I sucked in a sharp breath, a stabbing pain assaulting my lungs.
Almost instantly, black veins fractured my light, like cracks splintering through glass. Corruption spread like dark veins, poisoning it.
My knees buckled—inside and out. The pressure was unbearable. I clutched at my chest in both worlds. This deep, I couldn’t hear Rathiel or Levi, but I felt someone touching me, pulling me back.
The shadow surged forward.
Nope, nope, nope, nope—
I spun and bolted, retreating into the forest, crashing through the glowing roots and vines as the light dimmed behind me.
The blackness chased me, whispering things I didn’t understand.
I stole a glance back and saw the entity spreading across everything it touched. The roots, the trees, the endless sky.
It surged forward, its tendrils poisoning everything it touched in its goal to reach me.
I tripped over a branch, stumbled to my knees, and slapped a hand against a glowing root to steady myself. My breath came in sharp gasps. My skin prickled with cold sweat. The cracks in my core pulsed—black, gold, black, gold.
Before I could scramble to my feet, the shadow descended toward me with terrifying grace. It pushed me down, trapping me in place.
Panic surged within me, and I tried to move, tried to summon my flames, tried to fight, anything, but nothing came. Not a spark. Not a flicker. My magic, so powerful mere moments ago, didn’t even respond to me. Like something had cut it off at the source.
The shadow lashed out with its tendrils. They wrapped around my arms, my legs, my waist—burning cold as they made contact. And then they pulled, dragging me back toward my corrupted core.
I screamed when raw and unimaginable agony ripped through me. It was worse even than when my father tore my wings from my back. The scream that escaped me was soul-deep. It ripped free of my throat, torn and ragged—a sound I barely recognized as my own.
Before I could catch my breath, a final tendril slithered up my neck, across my jaw, and forced its way between my lips.
It poured down my throat like smoke turned liquid.
I gagged, clawed at my face, my chest, my stomach—anywhere I could reach—as the darkness continued forcing its way inside me, rushing into me like floodwater breaching a dam. It seemed to fill every hollow space until nothing remained but me and the blackness.
Only when it finally stopped did I open my eyes.
And the world came rushing back.