Chapter 51
“I should not have left you,” Alistair hushed.
He tensed his hand at my back, his fingers hard against my skin. I rested my head upon the cradle of his shoulder, savoring the warmth of him and the smells of sage.
“I should not have said what I did this morning,” He continued. Arms unraveled, he drew my eyes, tucking hairs behind my ear and cupping my jaw.
“When the darkness finds you, Rhoswen, I will too. This age is not yours to bear alone.”
Within my heart, a tightness uncoiled. It was an unspoken solace as one who’d seen me dwell in the darkest of nights still saw me as though I stood in the radiance of the sun.
“You are never alone,” he professed. Loyalty, like armor to a soldier, his words reinforced what his eyes conveyed—dark and searching, with a single bead of silver light illuminating as a lone star.
Another hand wrapped my shoulder.
I could remain within Alistair’s eyes—his eyes of safety. Protection. A jewel of light flickering in the dark sky. A dark lord of a fallen age, reminding me there was still good in this realm.
“Sister.” The single word found me, pulling my attention to the ripened junipers surrounded by red seas.
Alistair rose and left Vera and me, stepping towards the hearth. Looking over his shoulder, he stole a soft glance at me, accompanied by a dense sigh.
“Th-this was the work of the Shadows?” Vera wove her fingers through mine, delicate, becoming rigid as she held onto me for dear life.
“This was the darkness?”
I nodded with a heavy head.
“It had never come to me in such strength before. I… I do not believe I could control myself.”
“Rhoswen, when I found you, was it you or the Shadow that held Lucien at the throat? What had happened? Did it make you attack him?” Her words came to me quickly, Vera attempting to peel back the dark layers.
“Lucien had been taking potions to change his face. He tried to kill me, and… And I was angry.” Nothing of me yearned to tell Vera of my vision—Andrael hidden beneath bodies and mist—so I left such thoughts in the crypts of my mind.
“From what I can gather, it is when I feel threatened or angered that the Shadow comes to me, but it has never come to me like this.”
Vera glanced at the lord and lessened her voice.
“Does the god know, love? Does Deception know this has happened?”
I thought Deceit might laugh as he often did, but no. He only breathed, slow and heavy.
“I believe he does, yes.”
“Th-then you’re fine.” Vera’s lashes fluttered.
“Then everything is fine, isn’t it? If the gods know, surely they will not let this happen again.”
Only the gods did not know of the Shadows, for the dark entities were not of their creation.
I held Vera’s hand tighter.
“I am sure this will not happen again.”
It was a lie. A twisted lie, and Deceit knew it too.
“How do you feel?” Vera asked.
“As though I was given a kiss of sleep,” I said with heavy eyes and a tired smile stretching my lips.
Vera’s lips quirked, feigned and insincere.
“How did you know where to find me?” I asked quietly, eyeing Alistair—he merely stared at the hearth with a hand massaging the back of his neck.
My heart fluttered, and I pulled my eyes back to Vera.
“I do not know, honestly,” she said and looked at Alistair with a soft scowl. She leaned nearer.
“I am going to sound insane.”
“Please, tell me.”
Her plump lip flicked outward at the end of her bite.
“I thought I heard a voice… But it sounded so far away. Like, a strange echo in my head.”
The god tapped his talons along my mind.
Vera continued.
“It told me where to go, though I did not know why it told me until I found you.”
“What did the voice sound like?”
Do you not know, child? The god said in his unnerving disposition, and I could ask for nothing less. He felt real. I was comforted in knowing his disfigured self lingered in the dark of my mind once again.
“It sounded really odd. Like, haunting, but still… I felt compelled to listen.”
“How strange,” was all I said.
“I think the gods sent a messenger, love. Always favored, you are.” She cut her glance at Alistair in the corner of her sight.
“Listen, Rhoswen. About him.” Her head tilted towards the lord’s back.
“I think I understand now what you see in him, and—” She sighed. “Look, I know this is difficult for you. He is different, and I see that now.”
Wonder struck me. “Then—”
Vera raised her palm.
“No, let me finish.” She gnawed the inside of her cheek, and each unspoken second was gruesome.
“Truly, he is different from the others, but he is still a lord of this age, and…” She took a slow breath. “Sands, Rhoswen, his fate cannot be changed. My mind has not changed, but I do sympathize with you now.”
“Vera, listen—”
“No, Rhoswen,” she halted me again and hushed.
“I’m sorry, but he must die.”
My heart ached. Vera had saved me this day, though she put the knife in my chest all the same.
Leaning nearer, her breath filled my ear.
“Taison’s eyes are fixed on the Raven. He wants you to stand beside Alistair tonight, so he knows who to attack.”
“I won’t do that.”
“You must. If you don’t, I-I don’t know what will happen. You know, when eyes burn red, Carnage has overpowered Wisdom. Please, j-just do this. Stand beside him, so we can end this. Then, we’ll leave. Together.” She paused before whispering.
“I have to go. The castle is in feast, and they will be going to the courtyard shortly.”
“Vera, you cannot attend tonight. I need you to stay in hiding.”
“You know I cannot.”
“But the moment the estate sees you standing with the Chosen, they will know—I, too, serve the gods.”
“Of course they will.” Her jaw tilted downward, her brows raised.
“Rhoswen, after this day, we will no longer dwell in hiding. We will fight the crown with magic and blades. They all will know where your faith lies.”
While Vera arose, I captured her hand with desperate eyes.
“Vera, please,” I begged.
“You will join us,” she hushed with undying conviction.
“You will uphold your oath, and we will leave tonight. We will not look back, and we will continue our work. This is what must be, Rhoswen.” Her hand severed from mine.
“I am sorry.”
It had not occurred to me before this moment—the surviving guild rescuing the imprisoned, the Chosen striking the crown. This night, this fight, I could not come back from. This night, I would claim my devotion to the gods before crown and man.
The door shut at Vera’s back without paying the lord a goodbye.
I stood up in my restlessness.
Alistair circled towards me, his eyes studying me, unhurried and thoughtful.
He reached out his arm.
“Come here,” his voice rumbled, and as I nestled between his chest and arm—a divine haven—but I could not be sieved from the turmoil lurking within.
Gods against Shadows. Gods against Man. This war could not be undone by Alistair’s embrace.
His lips pressed against the crown of my head with arms surrounding me, Alistair burying me in him. He set his hand in my hair, keeping me close. The beating of his heart was a rhythm I cherished.
I cannot do this.
The god listened to my woes, unfeeling.
Then what is to become of you, Rhoswen? Deceit rasped his tail along my spine. If the Shadow beckons your name and you deny the gods, your soul will be steeped in darkness.
“I will stay with you tonight,” Alistair hushed between easy breaths.
“The king will forgive my absence.”
My hands found the ripples of his abdomen. All yearnings bid me to remain as I was, but I pressed him away. His eyes captured my gaze—the final speck of magical light had vanished—and he lowered his hands to the small of my back. Fingers patiently caressing each knot.
“Alistair, when we spoke this morning, you had said you may not always be here.”
His lips pulled straight, his stoic temperament drawing out his defenses.
“What did you mean?” I asked.
He did not move, he did not speak. Like rigid stone, my question had chiseled the statue before me. I couldn’t stand it—this hard casing around the man I yearned to see. And this may have been one of the final moments we would stand together.
Rhoswen, the god barked, knowing my intent.
I swatted the god and stood to the tips of my toes. My fingers tangled into Alistair’s hair, his eyes widening with slacked lips, and I drew his face to mine. His lips to mine. Sweet, raw, wet, our touch gathered together, and I shattered the statue. Alistair tensed against me, his hands sweeping across the curves of my body.
I could have stayed here for eternity, the ages passing us by as gods and man labored for triumph. But I simply was not blessed with such fortune.
I stowed my desires away. My lips pulled from his.
“Thank you for saving me, Alistair.” I brushed the hairs from his face and went to tuck the hairs behind his ears—to finally see him without the messy strands—but he grabbed my hands and stepped back.
The marble floor captured his gaze, uncompromising.
He spoke to the ground.
“My burdens carry past the title of lord, Rhoswen. That is why I cannot guarantee I will remain beside you.” Severity held itself in his eyes.
“After tonight, everything will change.”
The god’s ancient breath materialized and, curiously, he leaped from the dark and clung to my eyeline.
I lifted Alistair’s chin, my hand scratched by stubble.
“Will you tell me?”
“You ask me a question that you yourself grant no answer.”
“Tomorrow,” I said quickly with acid in my stomach. Guilt.
“What of tomorrow?”
“I will tell you tomorrow.” Acid churned up my throat, gagging me.
Tomorrow would not come. I yearned for his tomorrow to come, but I knew our tomorrow was a fable. I would be gone, charging through Andrael with what surviving guild remained.
“Are you telling me the truth, Rhoswen?” His eyes traded between mine, searching for the verity I kept hidden.
“Do you actually mean to tell me at dawn?”
“You can tell when I lie.”
“But there is something you are not telling me.”
What he sought, I could not give.
“As you said, Alistair Raven, everything changes after tonight.”
We stood in the fragile stillness again, but a needle was nearing, preparing to shatter us completely. Gods, Shadows, kings, princes—
Bloodletters.
My breath hitched at the thought of red eyes and maddened muscles. Memories of the guild’s fall clung to my mind—the Bloodletter concaving skulls as though stomping spiders. How his arms ripped through metal armors like parchment and severed throats from heads.
Soon, Taison might stand before Alistair with the same rage.
I spoke hurriedly.
“Alistair, I cannot tell you why, but tonight, you do not know me.”
“What?” Creases framed his brow.
“Just for tonight, please trust me. You do not know me. You do not know my face.”
“Rhoswen, what are you talking about?” The lord reached out to me.
I stepped back, though my heart pounded beneath my sternum, urging me to leap forward—to spill all my secrets and forget my vows.
“I cannot tell you.” My feet carried me to the door—to the threshold I never wanted to cross.
Alistair’s voice raised, shaken.
“Rhoswen, if everything changes tonight, what does that make of tomorrow?”
“I have to go.”
“Please, wait.”
The pain in his voice was the same pain in my heart.
“Do not follow me.” The fortitude of my demand never came, and if Alistair defied my desires, I did not know. I shut his door, charged past the hallway, and locked my chambers at my back.
This place was an empty void. One torch was alit at my side, leaving the room hidden in shadows. But then, a silhouette arose from my bed, catching faint light. Tall and wide, he arose and turned towards me. Two red spheres burned in the dark.
“Hello, Rhoswen,” my name roared around my fears.
Taison.
Before I could step or scream or lift my arms, I was thrown—back against the wall—Carnage in full reign. I was given no moment to gather myself, no moment to breathe or feel the pain where my muscles and bones had thrashed against the stones.
My feet hovered above the ground, Taison’s forearm hard against my chest.
“You’ve seen better days,” he said with a vile smile, beholding the layers of blood on my skin.
“Whose blood is this? Surely not your lords.”
“What do you want, Taison?”
“What do I want?” His putrid breath filled my nose.
“This is nothing about what I want. This is what the gods want.” No need for imagination, Taison filled my thoughts on his next breath.
“The Raven’s head on a pike.”
“So I’ve heard,” I managed to utter.
He gnashed his teeth together, anger permanently tailored into his temperament.
“You are part of this,” he said, loosening his arm only to thrash me back against the stones.
“After all these years of fucking lords, you finally have a chance to prove yourself.”
I gave him a hostile grin.
“I thought you wanted me dead.”
Do not provoke Carnage, my dear.
He showed me his crimson-washed eyes, like the red moon shone over a bloodbath.
“I would have killed you years ago, but Gwendolyne cares about you. Deception seems to, too. Can’t fucking tell why.”
Deceit growled at Taison as Taison growled at me.
“But, tonight,” he said.
“For our brothers and sisters, you get to atone for your sins. You will stand beside the Raven Lord. And, when Carnage is had, I will kill him.”
I never doubted a Bloodletter’s oath to kill. Never wondered if they’d find mercy in their hearts.
Taison pressed me harder against the stone wall, his muscles ready to cave in my sternum.
“And if you don’t,” he threatened.
“I will ensure the Raven Lord’s pardon is the last sin you commit. I will send you to Oldurem to walk the sands for eternity.”
I was half-tempted to change my appearance, to wear a mask of greater strength, but I did not have his skills, and—as the god cautioned—Carnage should remain unprovoked.
“Vera would never forgive you,” I wheezed.
Taison roared from his chest, grabbed me by the collar, and dragged me off the wall. He pulled me closer to the bite of his teeth and the odor of his breath.
“That is what you’ve never understood, Rhoswen. The ages will outlive any infatuation.”
An anger rooted in me.
“You consider Vera an infatuation?”
He huffed, scowl lines tangling his face.
“Don’t worry about Vera tonight!” He shouted, then quieted to warn.
“Worry about yourself.”
Taison unhanded me, my feet hitting the floor. There was no relief, not as his blood eyes still lurked in the dark. A large step was taken, Taison standing before the door, hand on the knob. He glared at me over his shoulder.
“You know, part of me hopes you try to save the Raven.” His smile.
“I’ve wanted to see you bleed for a long time.”
Taison pulled the hood of his cloak over his head, concealing the blood in his gaze. He stepped out the door and left me alone to count my breaths. Perhaps, my final breaths.
Deceit churned in the dark and spoke the truth Alistair had yet to know—
The Chosen and the damned will drench the moon in blood. Lives will fall at the altar. Death will be hailed and mourned. Deceit’s breath was slow, stirring beneath my flesh. This night, child, will commence the final of days. Everything changes after tonight.