37. Chapter 32
Chapter 32
Lillith
D usk drapes over the forest as Asher and I approach the distant firelight of Lexir's camp. We expect a ragtag crew of twenty at most—no match for Asher's sword and my sorcery combined.
Yet, as we creep nearer, glimpses between the trees suggest the intel is wrong. Ringing the camp are crude iron cages, not for holding goods but prisoners.
I freeze, unexpected sympathy rising within me. Once, I'd have turned a blind eye to such suffering, but now, injustice kindles my temper.
Asher's jaw clenches, hand resting on his pommel. "Free the captives while I deal with Lexir," he instructs tersely.
I mutely nod, magic already sparking at my fingertips—not for destruction but salvation.
Before parting, Asher and I share a searing kiss, wordlessly praying for the other's safety. Then, we slip into the shadows.
While Asher storms the camp head-on, every eye drawn to his bold challenge, I dart swiftly between the crude iron cages, focused on my task of freeing the wretched prisoners within.
As I slip unseen between crowded cages, my mind drifts to tangled recollections amid grim duty. Seven years past, a bitter teenage orphan alone in the world, I stumbled upon a striking figure practicing elemental spells deep in a glen. Lexir exuded charisma beyond his twenty years, silver tongue and charming wit entrancing my wrath-filled heart. His jet hair fell in tousled waves, contrasting pale skin and dancing coal eyes that promise untold delights .
Where others scorned my magics, Lexir claimed to understand my thirst for empowerment and freely teaches forbidden arts. Soon, we were inseparable, two alienated souls bonding over glorious visions of mayhem and anarchy wrought across the land, but beneath silken words lurked darker hungers, his “experiments” growing depraved as madness took root.
Shaking free of the past, I dissolve a lock. A haggard woman’s eyes glisten with disbelieving relief, and I offer a fleeting smile.
"Go, run. You're free," I whisper.
She cringes back, holding up trembling hands. "Please, no more tricks..." she croaks, voice rough.
My heart twists, imagining what torments these people have endured to make them fear even an offer of freedom.
I soften my voice further, like calming a spooked animal. "No tricks. I swear it. I'm here to help you escape this place." I hold out my hand slowly.
The woman hesitates then takes it with a skeletal grip. I gently help her climb from the cage. As soon as her feet touch earth, her eyes go wide with disbelief.
"It's real?" she breathes. "I'm free?"
I nod and conjure a glowing orb to light her way into the woods. "Hurry now before they notice."
As she stumbles away, I hear a faint sob of joy. The helpless gratitude on her thin face is payment enough, steeling my resolve. I will free every prisoner here if it takes all night.
In the next enclosure, a pair of children cling to each other, large eyes blinking owlishly. My heart clenches, remembering pleas to Lexir falling upon deaf ears as “subjects” begged pitifully for release from new torments. He hoped seeds of doubt would take root which would bear bitter fruit in time.
My magic melts rusted iron, and the siblings hurry into safe woods, tiny hands clasped tight. Scattered cheers and Asher's grunts spur me onward, memory chased by grim duty.
For moons, Lexir and my band tore across the realm unrestrained, reveling in the havoc sown. But where I sought empowerment, Lexir desired only domination over all. Our philosophies collided as darkness consumed him, wrathful temper growing violent without provocation.
When his conquest over a small village who had offered everything yet he still slaughtered them all broke me at last, mad eyes revealed his ghastly true self, a monster craving only pain and power over others. We dueled for hours beneath the waxing moonlight, survival mere chance against venomous vengeance. Fleeing into isolation, I thought never to see those twisted features again, banishing all recollection to distance emotion.
Now, magic flows readily yet differently, no longer governed by wrath or passion but focused only on salvation. Asher’s encroaching grunts keep demons at bay, rekindling flickering courage to see duty through. Another lock dissolves, and a bandaged man hobbles free with a teary nod, grin tugging despite agony plainly etched upon gaunt features.
"You're safe now," I murmur.
As I weave between the cages, I pause often to watch the duel unfolding fiercely by the bonfire's light. Lexir moves with serpentine speed, lips curled cruelly, but blow for deadly blow, Asher matches him, muscles gleaming. Their ringing blades set my heart lurching, frozen in place .
The next cage holds an elderly man with a bloody gash across his forehead. His rheumy eyes fill with tears as I dissolve his chains. "Bless you..." he rasps, patting my hand with his gnarled one before hobbling away.
Cage by cage, my magic and soft words free captive after captive from their nightmare. Each time, their disbelieving joy upon escape renews my dedication. However long it takes, I will free them all.
I dart between the cages, melting locks and freeing prisoners as quickly as I can. Most shrink back in fear until they realize freedom is at hand. Then, their eyes light up with dizzying gratitude.
Too focused on my task, I don't notice the approach of footsteps until too late. I weave between cages lost in grim focus, memories rising unbidden between. Another lock melts away to free hollow eyes blinking back to life, but my reprieve ends as armor glints between oaks.
"You there, halt!" a harsh voice rings out.
I turn to see two of Lexir's men advancing, scimitars drawn. They finally noticed the escaping prisoners.
With a snarl, I fling scorching flames outward. Curses spill forth. Those armored giants are familiar. As they retreat ablaze, recognition strikes.
"Karn! Balthus!" I call.
The larger peers up blearily from singed armor. Recognition sparks, and Balthus growls, "Lillith? Traitorous witch! "
His oathbound partner nods grimly. "Aye, betrayed us for pretty words and false power."
I sneer. "Prettier than pillaging villages at Lexir's whim. I chose a nobler path.”
Karn spits. “Noble? You’re as twisted as he, demon-girl.”
I only laugh. He isn’t wrong.
Memories resurge—nights spent pushing boundaries of ravaged farms, bonding over spilled lifeblood beneath the changing moon, but where I sought empowerment, they craved only spilling more. Our philosophies clashed, and I fled, realizing the darkness growing within me, mirroring Lexir’s all-consuming madness. Now, full circle brings only grim resolution against the shadow of passion corrupted utterly. Tonight, justice’s flame will purge all traces of infatuation once so fiercely held.
Steel arms heft, and I settle into an offensive stance, meeting old “friends” with flinty eyes holding no quarter. Magic surges defiant, fueled by my vows’ unbending will against the horrors birthed from innocence ruined.
The larger charges with a bellow that shakes skeletal cages. I sidestep as flames engulf his frame.
His partner follows in berserker charge, spiked club arcing heavenward, only to freeze inches from my forehead. Pained eyes meet mine, finding no mercy as fingers clench. Bone cracks audibly, and he crumples, releasing his weapon for younger hands once molded by his own. My stare pierces steel casings, searing visages stained with cruelties inflicted when camaraderie meant something pure.
Exhaling slowly, I turn from ghosts now banished. My mind refocuses grim purpose, stirring flickers of hope amid nightmares seared too deeply ever to truly fade. For now, living souls remain trapped while the axe falls elsewhere, demanding swift mercy’s release against horrors’ creeping grip.
Yet, my attention keeps darting back to the main duel. Lexir moves with preternatural speed, deftly deflecting Asher's furious swings while lashing out with tendrils of flame from his palms. Asher's cloak is badly singed, but still, he presses the attack.
With a roar, Lexir unleashes a molten fireball toward Asher's face. At the last second, Asher twists away, the projectile exploding against a tree instead. In the same motion, Asher lunges forward and slices a deep gash across Lexir's thigh.
Howling in pain, Lexir stumbles back. I can see the fury blazing in his eyes from across the camp. He will not underestimate Asher again.
I long to aid Asher directly, but the endless waves of Lexir's men keep me occupied. After blasting two more aside, I risk a glance back to the duel. What I see makes my heart drop into my stomach .
Lexir has disarmed Asher and now has him pinned down, a flaming dagger at his throat. Even over the din, I hear Lexir growl, "Yield or die, princeling."
Asher will never surrender.
"No!"
The scream tears from my lips unbidden as I hurtle magic desperately at the man I once loved. It catches Lexir in the shoulder, spinning him away before the blow can land.
Asher's head jerks up at my shout. I think I see a flash of gratitude before Lexir presses the attack once more. Back and forth, they trade thunderous blows, though Asher now clearly favors his left leg. My heart drops into my stomach like a stone.
This time, there is no triumphant rally. Lexir batters aside Asher's weakening defenses until finally, terribly, he slips past Asher's guard entirely to bury his sword to the hilt in my beloved's gut.
Time fractures. Disbelief freezes me in place as Asher slides off the blade and topples forward, blood pooling beneath him.
Rage boils through me at the sight of my prince run through by Lexir's blade. Even as the hero's blood pools on the hard ground, fury overcomes my grief. I will make Lexir suffer for this unforgivable betrayal.
"You'll die screaming for this," I vow, magic already crackling at my fingertips.
Lexir blanches but quickly composes himself. "Come now, Lillith. We both know you won't kill me. You still love me deep down, despite this little hero fling of yours."
His arrogance fuels the tempest within me. He thinks our past will stay my hand, but his cruelty severed those bonds forever.
"You lost my love when you decided to become the most evil villain," I snarl.
He laughs. “Wasn’t that your goal as well, Lillith?”
“Never. I want to become the most powerful. Make myself untouchable to the likes of you.”
I unleash a devastating bolt of lightning, but Lexir deflects it barely in time. We sparred together for years. He can anticipate my moves to a degree most foes cannot, but he does not know the depths of agony he has awakened in me.
We trade blows that would level cities, the forest around us disintegrating from the collided forces, yet we both remain unscathed, our knowledge of the other’s power perfectly balanced. I keep the most important thing to me—Asher—protected in his own little bubble of magic. Never again will I let Lexir touch anything I love.
I scream my grief and fury to the heavens, channeling it all into one final strike. The landscape warps and cracks beneath the sheer magical strength I summon.
Lexir's eyes widen in sudden fear. He raises his hands to counter, but my wrathful power smashes through his defenses like a tsunami. His body comes apart under the onslaught, shredded into nothingness.
Panting and trembling, I fall to my knees beside my beloved prince. Cradling his broken form, I weep bitterly over hopes forever lost and love found too late.
At least Lexir will never harm another soul. I have made certain of that in his last agonizing moments. Small consolation but vengeance nonetheless.
The storm within calms, concern finally conquering retribution.
"No, hang on, please..." I beg, tears streaming down my cheeks.
I press my palms over the gruesome wound, reaching for my power instinctively. This time, instead of wielding it as a destructive force, I focus solely on mending the ravaged flesh and restoring life.
My magic surges upward, but now, it feels subtly different—warmer, gentler. It flows through me into Asher's body, knitting together torn muscle and vessels, staunching the bleeding. I guide it tenderly, like threading a needle, no trace of fury or vengeance.
Under my palms, the ugly gash slowly closes, the skin smoothing over. It is delicate work. A small mistake could cost Asher's life if I rush or falter. I channel all my concentration into the delicate healing spell, brow furrowed with effort .
Drop by drop, the angry red of spilled blood fades as Asher's body is made whole once more. Yet, he lies lifeless, no breath stirring his chest. I pour ever more power into the spell, ignoring the weariness creeping into my limbs.
"Come back to me," I plead, wetting his pale cheeks with my tears.
Never has my magic felt so heavy and at the same time so right. For the first time, I am wielding it not to destroy but to create, to turn back death itself and coax new life from what has been broken.
Tears stream down my cheeks, falling on his skin as I clutch him close. I bend over him, shielding him and willing breath back into his lungs through hope alone.
At last, when I fear I can give no more, Asher's chest rises weakly.
Time crawls impossibly slow before finally, blessedly, he stirs weakly in my arms.
Relief sweeps through me. He will live.
I gather Asher's limp body in my arms, weeping with relief that his chest still rises and falls weakly. The healing spell has worked. He will live to see another dawn, though it has drained the last of my magic and strength.
But if I continue to be close to him, those from my world will never give him peace, and I can’t guarantee that I will be there to save him again. I don’t want to admit it, but I need to give him up to ensure that I don’t entirely lose him .
With trembling limbs, I focus my will and somehow trace a teleportation spell through the air, picturing Asher's royal bedchambers. In a whirl of light, we leave the destruction behind and reappear within the palace walls.
Gently, I lay Asher atop the plush blankets of his canopied bed. His face seems more peaceful in sleep, the pained lines smoothed away.
I linger a moment, brushing a white strand of hair from his forehead. He is safe now, far from the bloodshed in the woods. Perhaps in time he can forgive me for bringing such violence to his doorstep.
A soft gasp draws my attention to the doorway, where the head maid Mrs. Umbernuckle stands, staring wide-eyed between myself and the unconscious prince.
"You..." she breathes. "What did you do?"
I hold up my hands pleadingly. "No evil, I swear it. Asher was wounded fighting Lexir Crow. Lexir was defeated, but Asher almost didn’t make it. Please, he needs rest and care to recover."
Mrs. Umbernuckle's eyes only narrow further. "You expect me to believe you did not cause his injuries yourself? I know who you are, Lillith," she hisses. "I warned His Highness against trusting you. See the ruin you have brought upon him!"
Her accusations sting, but I can hardly blame her wariness. As villains, we aren’t known for being understanding and patient with others .
"Believe what you will," I say wearily, "but he clings to life by a thread. I beg you, put aside your doubts and help him heal. For his sake."
The maid's face remains hard, unmoved. "Leave before I put you in a worse state than you brought him. He isn’t awake to be able to protect you from me."
My heart cracks. I cannot force her to aid Asher nor linger here myself much longer without risking more lives. Perhaps it is better this way. Asher deserves to recover surrounded only by those loyal to him, not someone who only knows how to destroy everything she touches.
Blinking back tears, I bend to press one last kiss to Asher's brow, smoothing back his hair. "Recover your strength," I whisper. "When you wake, know that I will always watch over you, even from afar."
Rising slowly, I turn my gaze back to Mrs. Umbernuckle's flinty stare.
"Heal him well," I command, letting steel enter my voice, "or you will discover powers darker than you can fathom. Asher's welfare is now in your hands."
I let malice flash across my face, if only for a second, to ensure she understands the warning is no idle threat. Then, I dissolve into shadows, disappearing from the palace.
My magic carries me back to my home in the mountains. Tears spill down my cheeks. Each step away feels like leaving a piece of my heart behind, but this is the only way. Asher deserves a life of light after the darkness I have brought down upon him, a life free of the enemies forever hounding my steps.
Perhaps one day, when redemption no longer feels so far off, our paths will cross again beneath the sun's gracious light.
Collapsing beneath a broad oak, I weep freely, letting grief pour out until no more tears remain. I cry for the injured man I love, the redemption just out of reach, and the future we might have shared in a gentler world.