Bonus Chapter #2
Pelorak raised both arms. By now, the limbs had been consumed entirely by his gathered duskflame—duskflame he was preparing to unleash on them. Malorg tried to duskwalk, to shout a warning to Sarilian, but Pelorak’s will held him writhing helplessly in place.
There was nothing he could do except watch and pray.
Before Pelorak could strike, a brilliant beam of golden light speared his core. Pelorak’s furious, agonized scream split the air. The duskflame engulfing him died as he fell to his knees, clutching his chest.
The pressure holding Malorg in place lessened, and Malorg sagged with relief, gulping in a heavy breath. His eyes darted toward Sarilian, seeking him out. Relief flooded him when he saw that Sarilian was okay. A bit battered and bruised, like Malorg himself, but ultimately unharmed.
Yet that lance of light… How had Sarilian managed such a feat against Pelorak’s onslaught? Had their combined duskflame and dawnflame really given Sarilian enough power to rival an Aspect?
That was when Malorg noticed Sarilian’s eyes flick past him and widen. “Darius!”
Malorg slowly turned and saw that a fourth figure had appeared in his wrecked apartment. Sarilian’s former mentor, the Dawn Aspect of Justice, stood there in resplendent glory. Malorg blinked, certain he must be hallucinating.
Yet the vision didn’t change. Darius stood over the defeated Pelorak, gazing down at him with stern-faced disapproval. A spear of light gleamed in his hand. “It’s over, Pelorak. You cannot run from justice.”
Despite his position on the floor at Darius’s feet, Pelorak projected an air of defiance. “How dare you! You have no authority here, Celestial. I am the Dusk Aspect of Ambition!”
“Not anymore, Pelorak. The Dusk Council has spoken.”
As if conjured by Darius’s decree, chains of shadow burst from the ground around Pelorak. They swiftly wrapped around each of Pelorak’s limbs and yanked him flush against the floor.
“Unhand me!” Pelorak screamed. He bucked and writhed against the chains in a futile effort to wrench himself free. His voice grew panicked, desperate. “There must be a deal we can make, some sort of bargain. Please! You can’t do this to me! You need me!”
Apparently, the other Dusk Aspects disagreed because they paid Pelorak’s pleas no heed.
Malorg watched in stunned silence as his friend was pulled into the ground, vanishing into a puddle of darkness.
The last sight Malorg had of him was a thick band of shadowed chain coiling around Pelorak’s neck before the darkness consumed him.
As the gathered shadows dissipated, Darius released his spear of light and turned toward Sarilian. “It’s good to see you again, Sarilian, after all this time. I hope you are well.”
Sarilian frowned. “What do you mean, after all this time? It hasn’t been—” He winced, rubbing at his forehead. “Wait, when did…”
Understanding flickered across Darius’s features. “Of course. My apologies. You need not concern yourself with this.” He glanced around the room. “With any of this. It is our problem now, as is Pelorak.”
“What is this all about?” Malorg asked.
Darius glanced at him, and Malorg was surprised to find no disdain or judgment upon the Dawn Aspect’s face. If anything, he looked faintly appraising as he studied Malorg, like he was trying to take his measure. After a lengthy pause, Darius finally answered.
“Pelorak has been found guilty of violating the Covenant. No doubt the decision was at least partially politically motivated for the other Dusk Aspects. Nonetheless, they were willing to cooperate with the Dawn Council to apprehend him.”
The thought conjured a complex tangle of emotions within Malorg, and for an instant, he was a new Infernal recruit fighting on the battlefield alongside Pelorak and Uryqh. He glanced again at the spot on the floor where Pelorak had vanished.
“And what then?” he found himself asking. “What will happen to him?”
Darius raised his brow. “Still concerned for your friend, after all these years? After everything he has done?”
“N-no,” Malorg stuttered. “I just—”
Darius raised a hand to forestall him. “Worry not, Infernal, I meant no judgment. Your concern for your former friend does you justice.” He glanced at Sarilian with a faint look of approval. “I see that you at least chose well. For an Infernal, that is.”
Sarilian’s cheeks reddened.
“To answer your question,” Darius continued, turning back to Malorg, “a new Aspect of Ambition is being prepared to assume Pelorak’s vacated seat as we speak. As for Pelorak himself…” Darius grimaced. “He will be remanded into Infernal custody for the Dusk Council to deal with as they see fit.”
Darius’s tone made it clear he doubted that his concept of justice would align with theirs.
Memories of an eternal void full of endless nothingness and isolation clawed at the edges of Malorg’s consciousness. He shuddered, shoving them away. No one, not even Pelorak, deserved to suffer such a fate.
“If the Dawn and Dusk Councils were working together to dethrone Pelorak, then how in the Light did he end up here?” Sarilian asked.
Darius bowed his head. “My sincere apologies for the intrusion. Somehow, Pelorak caught wind of what was about to happen and decided to use what limited time he had to seek you out in whatever form he could.” Darius’s stern visage wrinkled with condemnation.
“It would seem that he’d rather mistakenly blame the two of you for his current circumstances than take responsibility for his actions.
Typical for an Infernal.” He glanced at Malorg. “Present company excluded, of course.”
His actions, Malorg thought, trying to remember. But it was all a faint blur. There were half-remembered flashes of meetings, of sitting across the table from Sarilian and Darius. Of talking with Pelorak one-on-one in his office. Of confronting Pelorak over some hidden scheme…
“Pelorak betrayed something, right?” Malorg ventured hesitantly, ignoring the jagged jolt of pain in his temple.
Darius nodded slowly. “You might say that.”
Malorg grimaced, rubbing at his forehead as the pain behind his eyes strengthened. “Eternal Dark, why can’t I remember?”
Darius did not reply.
Sarilian stepped toward him. “Please, Darius,” he said, raising a hand imploringly. “Answer him.” He glanced around the ruined apartment and winced. “How did we get here? What is happening to us?”
Darius’s answering smile was tinged with regret.
“I’m afraid that is not for me to say. The two of you made your choice.
I suggest you endeavor to enjoy it. You have my word that I shall endeavor to uphold the legacy that you left behind.
” His gaze lingered for a moment on Malorg, his smile growing more genuine.
“Your original plans for peace might not have come to fruition while you were here, but I hope it brings a buried part of you some semblance of peace to know that they may yet come to pass in your absence. And who knows? Perhaps this joint venture of ours won’t be the last.” He glanced at the faint, flickering wisps of black-fused fire still fading from Sarilian.
“Perhaps, like you, we too can learn to work together.”
Turning away from them, Darius began to glow, gathering dawnflame about himself. The world seemed to shimmer, and all at once, Malorg felt on the cusp of dissolving himself.
“Please, at least tell me this,” Sarilian begged. “Where are we, truly?”
Awash with holy light, Darius turned back to Sarilian with that same sad smile. He raised a hand and pressed it to Sarilian’s forehead. Somehow, impossibly, Malorg felt the same warm, comforting touch upon his own brow.
“You are but in a dream within a dream,” Darius said not unkindly. “Now, wake up.”
Mel blinked awake in his bed. He groaned as he sat up, the sheets bunching around him. “What in the Void?” His head ached and his throat was parched.
Beside him, Silas let out a low moan.
Mel turned and rested a hand on Silas’s shoulder, gently shaking him. “Hey, Silas, are you all right?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Silas muttered, his voice still heavy with sleep. He shifted to sit up in bed and flashed Mel a tired grin that loosened some of the worry still constricting Mel’s chest. “Just a bad dream.”
“Me, too.” Mel shook his head, trying to recall what the dream had been about.
But the details were already growing fuzzy.
“I was in a strange apartment. You were there, I think, but we were both different somehow. And there was this—this other guy there as well, and some kind of fight…” Mel trailed off, frustrated.
“It was sort of like that painting of yours,” Silas interjected. “The one with the Celestials and Infernals.”
“Exactly!” Mel exclaimed. He blinked. “Wait, how did you know that?”
“Because,” Silas said with a slanted smile, “I think I might have had the same dream.”
A faint shiver trickled down Mel’s back. It seemed an impossible coincidence.