32. Architecti
Architecti
In some ways, I think this was inevitable. Maybe my fear manifested it. Am I to blame after all?
Once upon a time, our elder angel told us that angel magic isn’t meant to be split. It’s meant to be contained in one vessel.
One angelic body.
That when it’s divided between two, it doesn’t always divide equally.
Sometimes, one angel goes bad.
I spent my life thinking Interitus was the bad angel. That I was full of goodness and light and possibility.
Of all the possibilities I could conceive, never in a millennium of time would I predict that the bad angel would be me.
I tried so hard to be good.
Gave Interitus everything I had.
And still it wasn’t enough.
I was all of the things an angel should be… until she broke me. Destroyed all that was positive and possible inside me.
Perhaps what our elder forgot to highlight is that no matter how the magic is divided, each twin has the capacity for both good and evil.
One might have been born bad, but the other can choose it.
I leave Gellara’s body and face Interitus.
I’m not sure what my expression is, but I am aware it’s violent. Enough that for the first time in our lives, my sister baulks at the sight of me.
I inhale, and as I do, I draw every ounce of power I can in.
I steal it.
Take it.
Demand it.
She takes one significant step away from me. And then halts as I unleash magic. It tunnels through the ground and locks on to Interitus’s ankles, imprisoning her.
Hesitation bleeds into the lines on her forehead.
Good. She should be afraid. Very, very afraid.
I throw my arms out, no longer caring for the innocents or the land.
My light has gone.
My love stolen.
And now I choose to ruin it all.
My skin trembles as I draw in more power from the land. The grass by my feet fades, the green wilting to ash. It spreads further and further.
I want it all. Sinuous black threads lift from the earth and vanish into my body.
I take it all: the energy the land has to offer, the souls from the mortals stood behind me and Gellara’s magic drifting listlessly in the air.
The mortal screams grow frantic for a while, a shrill melody. Then they quiet, whispers and whimpers until they grow utterly silent.
Gone.
Like Gellara.
I kill them all.
Kill everything.
I become exactly what Interitus has pretended I am: the city’s villain. I steal what has been stolen from me. Life and love and the brightest light.
The land shrivels and whines, the earth groaning in protest as I take and take and take.
Beneath my feet, the ripples of blackened ash grow wider and wider as I suck the remaining power from the area. Trees fall, buildings crumble, the air trembles. More and more energy surges into my hands and arms and feet and legs.
Bodies desiccate and turn to dust, souls scream as I drink them in.
Interitus is frantic now. Slapping and pulling at the bonds, but she’s restrained by my fury.
“Sister, please… I’m doing this for us. To protect us, to protect our future. To free us.”
But I ignore her, letting my fury surge through the earth, draining more and more mortals, crumbling villages and forests.
I rip everything from everyone in the vicinity. I need enough power to do what must be done.
Interitus must be stopped.
I extract every ounce of energy this realm has to offer. My body swells and throbs until finally, it’s done.
I have enough.
I disconnect from the earth and step forward.
“Architecti, please. Look at what you have done.” She flings her arm out to indicate the devastation.
I don’t care. I know exactly the extent of the damage surrounding us.
Interitus points a finger at me. “You are just like me. You think the humans will tolerate what you’ve done? You’re as bad as me. You’ve massacred as many in mere moments as I’ve taken over eons.”
I grab her by the throat.
“You talk too much.”
“And you are so naive you’ve ended up becoming the thing you feared the most.”
“We. Are. Not. The. Same.”
But of course, she’s right. We are. Cut from the same celestial cells. One angel torn in two. Twin flames torn apart by fate.
Both capable of good and bad.
I squeeze her throat, enjoying the way her skin reddens and blotches. I should take her life, but that would be too swift of a retribution.
I don’t want Interitus dead.
I want her to suffer. To live in agony as I will for the rest of time.
Death will not do that. It’s a kindness I will not offer.
Instead, I will take from her the one thing she desires. Her ability to destroy fate.
I will strip her of magic and power, and I will leave her to hide amongst the mortals with the knowledge it wasn’t worth it. That she will never destroy the system, never achieve her dreams because I took them from her the way she took everything from me.
I reach into her jacket and find what I’m looking for. Interitus stiffens as my hand grips the soft, feathery wings with serrated edges.
“No, no, no. Don’t take her,” Interitus pleads, hysteria wrapped around each word.
But it’s too late. There are no other possibilities.
Black fibrous threads whip through the air. They shiver and tremble around Interitus, faster they twirl and spiral until…
“Yes, there it is,” I smile for the first time as I locate the thread that connects the Severed Moth to Interitus.
I hold her gaze, hate pouring into my stare as I reach out to the middle of her wings and yank out a feather.
She screams in pain, blood trickling down her black wing tips, the gap in her wing stark.
“Fitting. A feather for a feather,” I snarl.
She struggles harder now. Wriggling and fighting the threads of power. But nothing can stop this. I’ve gone too far.
She broke me, tore my insides apart, and now the years of pent-up resentment festering inside me have unleashed themselves.
I slide away from her, pulling the moth with me.
Interitus wails.
Each step I take my sister cries louder.
The moth wriggles faster in my hand too. But it’s mine now. I just need time to convince it.
“Please,” Interitus begs. “I’ll do anything. Just don’t take her.”
Another step, another foot. Another, and another.
Blood wells in my sister’s eyes, it pours from her nose and even leaks from her ears.
Good. I want it to hurt.
I hope it’s agonising.
Further and further I move away, far enough that the bond between them starts to scream.
The moth wriggles a furious dance, wings beating against my fingers.
Perhaps my only regret is that for now, I am causing it unimaginable anguish.
A trust that will take a long, long time to repair.
But I will. I am patient. I have nothing else to live for but vengeance.
Interitus drops to her knees. “Please,” she says, her voice cracking.
“Remember this position, sister. Because on your knees is where you will spend the rest of your days.”
I stare into my sister’s eyes, revelling in the way she pleads and begs. But my feet clank against a body and the pleasure I felt in Interitus’s pain dissolves.
My stomach twists and bile claws up my throat as I realise whose body it is.
I glance at Gellara. Lifeless. Still. Even the wispy red smoke has dissipated now. I can barely smell the scent of woodsmoke and ocean, and that makes my chest ache all over again.
I whip Interitus’s feather through the air, slashing at the bond between her and the Severed Moth.
I know the moment the feather hits the bond because my swing slows as it encounters resistance.
My teeth gnash against each other, my jaw flexing as I hack and sweep and yank the feather through their bond.
All the while Interitus screams and writhes on the floor, her face wrinkled in agony and blood.
The bond snaps.
It’s a wave and a shiver that ricochets through my entire body. The propulsion forces me back with a sudden jerk. I’m not expecting it and stumble over my feet. I crash into something soft, my stomach dropping out as I realise not what I’ve hit but who.
Interitus makes a shrill, hideous sound that skitters around my teeth, setting them on edge, and then passes out.
I roll over and peel myself off Gellara. Her blood marks my clothes, there’s even a patch on my hand where I’ve landed on her.
“Oh, no. No, no, no,” I cry out.
I wipe at the blood, quick, desperate movements to clean it off. But it spreads. It’s on my clothes and arms. I’m covered and it won’t come off. It shouldn’t be there.
Tears fall now, big round plops that remind me far too much of Gellara’s blood pooling beneath her.
My knuckles brush her rapidly cooling cheek and it only makes the cries come harder. She was my everything. This is my fault. All of it is my fault. If I’d only been strong enough to stop Interitus when we were younger, none of this would have happened.
I stand, and for the first time, I realise the devastation that has been wreaked over the land.
I do not care.
That is how I know I have changed. That Interitus may have looked like the evil twin, but she was born that way. It was in her nature.
I am choosing this.
Gellara cannot stay here. I will not allow her to be another body amongst the ruins I’ve left behind. I slide the unconscious moth into my pocket and scoop my hands beneath Gellara’s torso, lifting her into my arms. My wings extend and I carry us up, up, up.
My sister is curled in the foetal position, her face still mimicking mine. I will be blamed for this. As I should.
For once, I did it. And, I would do it again.
I will do it again.
This is not over. I may have taken her moth and the source of her power, but she will not rest. This is far from the end. And before our fates can play out, there will be more ruin.
I will take her life apart piece by piece, feather by feather, and I will not stop no matter who gets in the way.