Chapter 45 #2
Instead of cursing, I nod slowly. “But how do you punish a god?” I whisper.
This time, Azric is quiet for a long time. “I don’t know, Fiona Thorne. But unlike the rest of the world, I believe all things are possible. One day, I will find a way to make them hurt just as badly as they’ve made every person on Nyth hurt, and I will smile with every one of their screams.”
We linger in those words for several moments as they sink in. Instead of responding, I reach for his hand and take it in mine. “I think I would give a great many things to see that.”
His gaze goes to my hand in his and then to my eyes. “It’s my second greatest desire, but it will have to wait until after we save everyone else from the Hunters.”
My eyes open wide as I make the realization. “The Hunters know how to kill gods,” I whisper.
Azric smiles cruelly. “I know. Why else would I have to wait until after our fight with them?”
He’s really planning to turn against them. It’s not just some words whispered in a tavern amongst those hurt by them. His words aren’t curses said in mourning. He means them just as much as he means to lead the fight against the Hunters.
I squeeze his hand tightly. “Once upon a time, I thought you were my greatest enemy. Did you know that?”
He chuckles softly. “I assume everyone believes I’m their enemy.”
“You’d have been right about me. But Azric,” I whisper, “I was wrong. I think everyone’s wrong about you.”
He shakes his head slowly. “They’re not.
” He turns back to the dark water running through the room.
“You weren’t either. Not really. I will hurt whoever gets in my way.
Just like I killed Echo, someone I deeply cared for.
Just like I would have killed Darian myself if he’d gotten in the way of you winning the trials. ”
He drags his hand away from mine and says, “You need to know that about me, Fiona. I can’t care what happens to anyone.
If they stand in the way of saving Nyth from the Hunters or me forcing the gods to atone for their evils, I will do whatever I have to do to remove the obstacle.
I am your greatest enemy if you stand in my way. ”
I frown at him. “But Darian wouldn’t have tried to stop you. I don’t want the Hunters to destroy the world.”
He turns away from me again to look at the gateway between Nyth and the Realm of Night.
“Not today, you don’t. But tomorrow? A month from now?
When I need to destroy a village full of children?
What if I had to go to war with Sylvantia, or crush Stormhaven, or murder your father?
Then you would stand up to me. Then you would call me enemy, and I’d be forced to bring all that I am against you.
You would die just as quickly as the others. Just as quickly as Echo.”
There’s a hardness in his eyes, but the sadness hasn’t left his face.
It’s an overwhelming emotion that he probably doesn’t even truly recognize.
The wounds of the soul, the ones that have built a person, aren’t like a sword cut.
You don’t scream in pain. You don’t bandage them and coax them to heal.
Because soul wounds like his, like Rhaskar’s, don’t ever truly heal. They simply become a part of you. They shape you. They turn the boy who laughs into the man who frowns.
They’re still wounds, though, and the man I’m staring at has more than anyone thirty years old should have. “You can’t expect to do it all yourself. You know that, don’t you?”
“It’s what I was made to do. Yes, others will take up the sword. Others will follow, but my place is at the front of it all. If I’m not strong enough, if I make the wrong choices…”
I move toward him, stepping between him and the river.
“No. No single person can carry that weight. I may not be Godforged, and I’m certainly not the Prince of Bones, but I might end up being the Champion of Nyxthos in a week.
You cannot expect yourself to stand all alone against what’s coming, Azric. Not even the gods expect to do that.”
“The gods are cowards, Fiona. They don’t think they’d win a fight with what’s coming.
That’s why they hide. That’s why they plan to let us fight this war.
They’ve set up the board, and now they’re going to sit and watch as we play our parts.
Except that the game of Khorra isn’t lost when you lose a set of troops.
It’s over when you lose the champion, which happens to be me. ”
I run my hand over his cheek, and instead of pulling away from me, he softens. “Fine. But you can’t stand alone. You have to find people to trust to help carry the weight of those decisions and actions. Otherwise, the weight of it all will crush you regardless of how strong you are.”
He stares into my eyes, those bright orange eyes burning into me just as they did the first time. “And if I have to burn all of Sylvantia to save Nyth?” he asks.
I shake my head. “You won’t, and you know that.
The people of Sylvantia, the Priests especially, are your secret weapon.
We can fight, and our powers don’t stem from magic like the Godforged.
We will fight beside you. I’ve already talked to Rhaskar.
You can trust me, Azric Cyrus. I’m not as strong as you, but I’m not a soldier either.
I don’t just follow orders, and I’m willing to die for the causes I stand behind, which happen to be the same ones you hold so dear. ”
For a long moment, he’s quiet. His body is immovable like a statue with the most beautiful eyes.
Then the world explodes with movement. His hand goes to my throat just as it did once before.
This time, it doesn’t squeeze. This time, there are no shadows holding me in place.
It’s not brutal violence in his eyes as he leans down and presses his crimson lips to mine.
It’s warmth. It’s passion. Those lips I’ve dreamt of so many times are hard and unyielding as they crush mine. His chest, which feels more like stone than flesh, presses against mine. Still, I hold my hand against his cheek as lightly as ever.
I get lost in the kiss and forget we’re at the seat of Nyxthos’s power. I forget that in a week I’ll be fighting for my life against the very people I considered friends this morning. There is no war, no gods. The very things that have forced us together time and again seem to mean so little.
And yet, thoughts of Darian still linger. I remember the weight he carried, the exhaustion that he hid so well behind a smile.
Azric’s nails press against my skin but only hard enough to remind me they’re there. My hand runs through his raven hair, and he pulls back from the kiss just enough that his breath whispers over my lips.
I see the vulnerability in his eyes. Of all the people in Nyth he could be vulnerable with while he mourned his uncle, he chose me—a human he met only months ago.
Yet, I’m no different. I was taught the Prince of Bones was the most dangerous person on Nyth, but he’s the only one I want to be near right now.
“Why do I crave you so? What is it about you that makes me forget the pain?” he says with a rumble in his voice.
“I’m no one,” I whisper back while I stare into those burning orange eyes.
My lips linger an inch from his. Shadows whisper over my body as they did the first time he wrapped his seduction magic around me.
They weave their way under my cloak, under my armor, and even under the linen wrap to kiss my bare skin.
Across my hips, up my inner thigh, down my breasts.
His hand releases my neck, and he steps back. “You make me forget who I am. I can’t do this.” There’s fear in his eyes now where flames had blazed only moments ago. Yet, the shadows don’t release me from their ethereal touch.
“No,” I say with as much strength as I can muster while he teases my body.
I step toward him, and this time, it’s him that tries to step back.
I don’t let him. My hand reaches for his neck, but instead of wrapping around it as he had, it slides past and grips the raven hair.
I pull him down, and it’s my lips that crush his.
It’s my passion that forces him to give in to me. It’s my chest that presses against his.
Azric falls into my kiss just as much as I’d done to his.
My lips move to his neck as my other hand unties the knot holding my cloak on me.
It falls to the ground at my feet. His hands grip my waist with the lightest touch he’s ever shown me.
The shadows that had teased me before become more insistent, more physical, more demanding.
They find the bootlace I’d sewn my tunic together with during the second trial, and they slowly untie it. I pull back to breathe for a moment, and I wonder if he’ll pull away from me again.
Instead, we fall into the shadows at our feet, and I find myself floating in the nothingness of the Void.