Chapter 13 #2
She pulled back, holding me at arm’s length so I could stare down into the warm umber of her eyes.
“You’ll have the Source with you always.
It will serve as your guide when necessary.
But you already know the way. We’ve talked about it at great length, over countless cups of tea.
The Church has stagnated, and rot has come from within to poison the minds of those who cling to its power.
You can make it right. You can repair what has been broken. ”
“Not on my own. I need you, Sancha. Please, there must be another way.”
Sancha laughed, her eyes crinkling at the edges in a rare display. “Come now, Cirian. You’re a better liar than that.”
She believed in me so much that she would stake the entirety of the Church on my ability to lead.
It was enough to make me want to wretch.
But there was a comfort there, too. Sancha was never one for flattery.
Her words were brutal and honest. So, if she said these things about me, it was because to her, they were truth.
I wanted to ask more, to revel in this moment as long as I could. I wanted to keep her with me. But she pulled away, that small, sad smile returning.
“My time is up.”
“Just a moment longer,” I argued, reaching for her again, but she was moving back, towards the looming crystal structure and the miasma that swirled within it.
“My strength is spent. I cannot contain the Umbral any longer. It will come for you, Cirian. And those whom you love. Show it that there are some things that can never be snuffed out.”
“I will.”
“Be well, my child.”
A quick sensation of falling and—
Fiery strength filled my veins as the world resumed its usual pace. The light had faded from Azrael’s body, his eyes half-lidded as his legs gave out beneath him, the tether between us dissolving in an instant.
Bastien reached him first, leaning down to help the dazed Azrael to his feet once more.
Horrid burns swirled along the Unseen’s arms, angry patches of scarlet skin that trailed up from wrist to shoulder.
I moved for them first, each step feeling lighter than the last as the Source’s blessing took root in my body.
The two of them moved as quickly as they could toward me and away from the swirling abyss that inhabited the crystalline structure. Bastien's eyes widened as they neared me.
“Let me see,” I ordered, pulling the scorched sleeves of Azrael’s shirt away from the burns.
Any blood had burned along with the flesh, leaving dark blotches along his otherwise smooth skin.
I reached for my magic, but it was already waiting for me, jumping to my hands before I could even form the words of the incantation.
The burns on Azrael’s skin receded until they vanished completely, leaving blemish-free flesh in their wake.
Azrael’s eyes fluttered open, hazy at first, then focused on me and the missing wounds.
Then he lunged forward, wrapping me in an embrace.
“I’m glad the pain didn’t crush you,” he muttered into my ear.
“Um, thanks?”
Bastien watched me still, questions burning behind his golden eyes.
“We’ll talk later,” I told him as Azrael released his grip on me.
Movement out of the corner of my eye drew our attention back to the twisted wreckage of ichor that slithered towards us with newfound speed.
Bastien swore, stepping in front of me and muttering an incantation as his fists began to steam.
A low snarl came from Azrael as he crouched, ready to strike as the creature drew closer.
I stepped out in front, placing myself between them and the mass of ichor and shadow.
“What are you—”
Raising my hand out, the air around me crackled with electricity as I loosed a bolt of lightning that filled the space with blinding light.
This bolt was not the typical cerulean blue I expected, but a scalding white that left dark blotches in my vision as it raced towards the creature.
It struck the teeming mass, coaxing another chorus of screeches as the darkness peeled back from the shapes underneath, dissolving into ash that rained down over the pale stone floors.
“Gods,” breathed Bastien to my left.
“Are those…?” Azrael whispered.
Beneath the shadow and ichor, bodies twisted and flailed, trying to right themselves in the lingering residue of the Umbral’s influence.
“The ones from the Sanctuary,” I answered, already turning my attention towards the Umbral and its perversion of the Source’s altar. “Help them. Guide them back towards the surface.”
“You’re not coming?” Bastien asked.
“I’ll be right behind you,” I assured him. “Once I’ve wiped this mess up.”
Azrael shook his head. “You’ll need us.”
“I do need you,” I agreed. “But not for this. They need you far more—” I motioned to the survivors. “And I need to know that you’re safe from what’s to come.”
Azrael wanted to argue further, but Bastien placed a hand on his shoulder. “Be careful. Don’t get cocky.”
I snorted a laugh.
“It’s like you don’t know me at all.”
“Come,” Bastien bade Azrael, directing his attention to the huddled survivors. “We each have our parts to play.”
Azrael nodded reluctantly, his violet eyes hesitating on me.
A flash of movement from behind them, and my reflexes kicked in, sweeping both of their legs out from under them as a streak of stygian lightning scorched the space they had just occupied.
I was back on my feet in an instant, expanding my magic out as a second bolt collided with the invisible wall I’d hastily projected, branching across the surface with a deafening crack.
I squinted, making out the shape of a figure crouched below the altar, and my blood went cold.
I knew that silhouette.
“Get moving!” I yelled back at the others, focusing on holding the wall in place as another bolt of that strange, dark lightning collided with it, splintering the edges.
Even with the power of the Source running through me, I had to plant my feet in order to not be pushed back by the force of the attack.
Bolt after bolt struck my defenses, whittling away at the shield till finally it shattered, knocking me to the ground. I risked a glance back at the others, noting that Bastien and Azrael had made quick work of organizing the survivors and getting the moving. They were almost clear of the chamber.
Rising to my feet once more, I addressed my foe.
“Sancha packed more of a punch in her sleep. You’re a poor facsimile.”
The Umbral straightened from its crouch, moving forward with all of the grace and presence of the Cardinal it wore as a mask.
“Your teacher was more clever than I anticipated,” it said, using Sancha’s voice.
“I never expected her to be able to channel the Source into another vessel. It was a gambit that cost her dearly in the end. After she’d expended the last of her strength, she lacked the will to resist my control. I do hope it was worth it.”
“Allow me to demonstrate.”
Raising my hand, I loosed another bolt of the blinding lightning. The Umbral was just as fast, countering with a shadowy bolt that collided with my own, the tendrils wrapping around one another and raining sparks upon the ground below.
It was magic far above any level I’d been able to wield before.
It suffused every part of my body, this comforting warmth.
It stirred my limbs, steering reflexes along as it went.
For a moment, concern bloomed in my mind.
Were my actions still my own? Or did the Source seek to manipulate my body much like the Umbral had done to Sancha and the others?
The worry lasted for only a second, replaced instead with an overwhelming sense of peace. I needed no words to understand the message: I was free to do as I willed.
Sancha stepped closer, her features twisted into an uncharacteristic smile. “It matters not where the light goes to hide. You’ve merely made it easier to snuff out. Tied it to your fragile life. In the end, a foolish decision made by a foolish woman.”
Rage simmered under the calming warmth, coiling in my gut.
“That is a lot of confidence for someone who’s been thwarted at every turn. Tell me, Umbral, what is it like to finally cross into the material plane only to get ripped from host after host like some abhorrent leech?”
A chuckle rippled through the Umbral’s borrowed chest, a gravelly sound that distorted Sancha’s voice.
“My patience is endless. My blessings inescapable. This world will be returned to the darkness whence it came. These distractions are merely the last sputtering breaths of a world destined for oblivion.”
“And what happens when you finally get what you want?” I asked, one foot crossing the other as I sidestepped the approaching figure. They countered, the two of us circling one another like carrion birds over death.
“Want has no place here. It is above your ability to comprehend, but we are not beholden to the limitations of mankind.”
“Did you just call me stupid?”
“It’s not your fault. Your intellect is merely restricted by your limited understanding. It’s what makes your kind so easy to manipulate. Fear takes root in your mind, and you’ll do anything to prevent it from becoming reality.”
“Sounds like you’ve got us all figured out.”
“You see then how futile this is,” the Umbral replied, squaring their shoulders.
“How someone like you cannot hope to stand against the tides of fate. The waves will crash down upon your head. You only delay the inevitable by thrashing about. Accept your fate, Cirian Findlay. Show us the levels of dignity humankind can achieve.”
The rage in my gut roiled, each word from the lips of my former master heaping more fuel onto the flames.
“You make a strong argument,” I said after a moment, keeping my voice as level as I could. “But I’m afraid that you’ve crossed the wrong human if dignity is what you’re looking for. I’d sooner rip off my own cock than roll over to your cowardly coalescing.”