32. Nahomie
Nahomie
The wave of descending boneravens inextricably tied to the onslaught of the bloodhounds was a horrendous sight to behold. Without mercy, the Mortevain Islanders were attacked, their bodies beginning to drop like stones. Only a few hours ago I’d told Tassarion no bloodshed this twinight. And yet.
Unfathomable rage colored my vision crimson. Blackfire erupted inside my body, demanding to be used. Demanding to be set free. I had to do whatever was needed to shut this down. Now. Without wasting another moment, I wrenched away from Tassarion and fyused.
Gone was my gown of jewels and starlight.
I took on the silhouette of an onyx flame with beaming lavender starlight and exploded into action.
When the other Seraphim in the room saw me fyuse, every one of them fyused, too.
Multiple Seraphim carried the element of fire.
None as commanding, powerful nor destructive as mine.
But still effective as an offensive weapon against these demonic beasts.
I soared into the air. Boneravens up close were horrifying with their angular beaks, beady crimson eyes, taloned claws, and ear-shattering shrieks.
I flew up into a cluster of the creatures.
Their sheer size swarmed me, but I shook away my fear.
I pulled on blackfire, summoning spears made of flame.
Spinning with fury, I hacked away at the boneravens around me.
I shoved the tip of a spear into the boneraven on my right; the weapon protruding through the back of the beast, while whipping around to impale the other on my left.
“Behind you!” Tassarion roared down the bond.
I whipped around, launching bolts of fire from my palms like a vortex as three bloodhounds leapt from the backs of the boneravens that carried them into the air.
Mouths opened, the bloodhounds snarled viciously, aiming for my throat, their clawed paws protruding outward.
I launched a volley of blackfire bolts. The hounds howled, their garbled voices ringing in my ears.
The powers of the Hallowed exploded in the open ballroom. Cherubim used ethèr of artistry, singing into the twinight, lulling the boneravens into a melodic trap. They were poisoned by song, while other Cherubim danced around the creatures, killing them off through the enthrallment of movement.
Lawrents slammed their palms together, chanting through verse after from the Saccrent. As they spoke, their words formed into swords, aiming for boneravens and bloodhounds alike. Each sword struck true, piercing through furry and membranous skin.
Mortents glowered all around the chamber, their eyes glowing like coal-hot jewels.
Surrounded by the angels of his rank, Tassarion floated in the air, his eyes steel jewels that glowed like lightning.
His body swarmed with an infinite number of souls.
He seemed to wear them like a cloak of oblivion, ready to eradicate all who stood in his way.
Tassarion opened his mouth and began a lullaby that nearly hypnotized me.
I covered my ears with a pair of wings as I watched in rapt fascination how the souls poured out of his body and shot into the waves of boneravens and bloodhounds. The souls turned into horrifying little minions, hissing with sharp teeth as they began tearing through flesh and bone.
A swipe of claws across one of my wings snapped me out of my distraction. I was yanked to the floor with a grip strong enough to yank my shoulder out of its socket. I screamed, popped the shoulder back in, and whipped around, blasting the creature that had attacked me.
But it wasn’t a boneraven.
It was one of the masked Hallowed who attended our masquerade.
And he was surrounded by bloodhounds.
Before I could defend myself, the hounds lunged.
Large, feral teeth clamped down on my arms, legs, and wings.
A shrill scream exploded from the back of my throat.
Fire burned down the length of my arms. My wings twitched in agony.
Blood poured from the open wounds, leaving me heady.
I tumbled into a pool of golden blood. I became dizzy. This wasn’t good at all.
“NAHOMIE!” Tassarion bellowed.
His voice carried over the cacophony in the ballroom.
“Consider this my gift to you, Roi Tassarion.”
The Hallowed sounded cruel. Vindictive.
He had a sneer in his voice that made me shiver.
“Your bride for mine.” I watched in horror as the bloodhounds twitched, as if they were possessed, their eyes darkening from crimson to obsidian as they glared at me. “My beloved took her life after I wasn’t able to console her from the grief of Jacques’s death.”
Who in the living stars was Jacques? And what in all the realms did he have to do with me?
The Hallowed lowered a gaze of profound hatred on me, his shoulders trembling with uncontrollable rage.
“You forget you’re not the only Soul Bender on this island,” the angel sneered. “You may bend the living. But I bend the dead.”
The bloodhounds twitched again. Then they attacked.
I jerked to the side, avoiding the first wave of possessed hounds.
But I was too late, too wounded, to avoid the next.
Sharp incisors sank into my skin, tearing through my limbs as the bloodhounds got a hold of me and shook me violently in their maws. My throat was going raw from screaming at the top of my lungs. Tears stained my cheeks as I sobbed.
Then I did the hard thing.
I wrenched my body away from the grasp of the bloodhounds, tearing even more of my fyused skin. The stinging pain of torn, ethereal flesh was infinitely worse than if I’d been bitten with my Seraphim skin. This Mortent knew how to bleed Seraphim and well.
Through blurred vision, I found his eyes through the slits of his mask. I recognized him as the angel who’d watched me earlier with profound hatred.
“You will suffer for this,” Tassarion snarled, more beastly than king. He was surrounded by boneravens, bloodhounds, and masked angels who turned on him. Turned on us. A quick glance found every gargoyle also surrounded; Obsidian trapped worst of all.
I had to do something.
Pushing beyond my pain, beyond the gushing blood, while the angel continued fuming at Tassarion, I disappeared entirely into blackfire.
I blended into the darkness. Became one with the twinight.
I was terror and ruin, and I was ready to unleash hèls on these intruders.
The moment I was completely invisible, I lunged for the male.
I could easily rip him to shreds with my fire.
Especially one on one. But this one, I would deal with by hand.
Since he ambushed us, I would return the favor.
I drew my hand back and crushed my fist into his jaw, instantly breaking bone.
He bellowed at the blow. Before he could double over, I brought up a sharp knee into his groin.
As he screamed, I rammed my knee into his stomach, audibly breaking his ribs before clawing at his eyes with my nails.
Then I ripped through his wings with my talons.
The angel bled out fast. I brutalized him blow for blow, battering him to a pulp.
He looked much older than most of the angels in attendance and slightly fragile.
But I didn’t give a rot.
Whoever he was, he had betrayed us. Brought boneravens and bloodhounds to our home.
It was only the mercy of the Infinite that these hounds weren’t here with the Ivory Rain.
Each one had to die before they escaped to tell the tale.
It wouldn’t be long before their masters tracked them down to Mortevain.
How this male had gotten his hands on bloodhounds was beyond me. Either way, he was going to die for it.
I drew back my wings, ready to clap them against the male’s frame, when my muscles contracted, twisting in my limbs.
I screeched, tumbling in the air, crippled over in pain.
The muscles in my arms, legs, and stomach twisted like knots, leaving me shaking with agony.
A dark majik had gripped my body, breaking me limb for limb. My screams echoed across the ballroom.
“MARCèLLIAN!” Tassarion thundered, his voice rumbling through the ballroom. “Take your hands off my wife.”
Tassarion lunged with a speed that mesmerized me. Curled in a fetal position, I watched his titan of a body move with the grace of a spiderwraith.
Marcèllian.
The angel Tassarion called Unka. Who sat on Roi Tazzias’s Ministeri. The reason I would never meet my Everthorn Manmi and Papi. The reason for Tassarion’s capture. Torture. The one who betrayed my wingmate and all of Mortevain Island to the Fallen.
The traitor.
Tassarion barreled into Marcèllian with such brute force that the clap of breaking bones rang in my chest. Tassarion snapped open his wings, whipped around, and slapped Marcèllian so hard the male’s body shot across the ballroom like lightning, crashing into a pillar.
Before he could roll over, Tassarion was there.
The king grabbed Marcèllian by his ankles, yanked him up into the air, then wrenched his body back down, smashing Marcèllian into the marbled floor.
“And therein lies the Monster King,” an observer whispered, with more awe than fear. It had to have come from one of our loyal islanders.
The traitor’s face split open. Blood gushed from the open wound, staining the floor with gold.
Tassarion hammered a booted foot into the angel’s spine.
The audible crack was evidence Tassarion had broken the male’s spine.
My king shoved his arms beneath Marcèllian’s limp ones, grabbed hold of both, and wrenched them from their sockets. It had become a bloody, gory sight.
Eight centuries of pent-up rage was finally bleeding out.
Tassarion could have easily executed the bastard with one blow.
Instead, he took his time breaking him, limb by limb.
Turning away from the gore, I hurled myself at the bloodhounds who crouched to lunge at me again.
I was badly wounded and weak, but I had to fight on. I couldn’t give up.
If my home was going to become, and remain, my safe haven, I couldn’t just leave it all up to Tassarion.
I had to fight back. I had to fight for what was ours.
We deserved peace. Joy. Liberty, especially in our home.
I drew on blackfire and hurled it at the creatures.
I moved slower. My reflexes dulled. But I pushed anyway.
The Gargorètti kept a strong front. Though they had been surrounded, they did not yield, brutally tearing through the creatures. The Nanmiess and Esprits teamed up, raging against the boneravens while leaving the bloodhounds to the gargoyles and other islanders.
I focused on taking out the endless rows of bloodhounds in my weakening vision. I coughed up blood, choking on the acidic, bitter taste. My strength fled from me. But I fought on.
Then Marcèllian began chuckling darkly, utterly delirious.
“Roi Tassarion,“ Marcèllian sneered. “Blood. For. Blood.”
Then I was attacked from behind. Large teeth clamped around my neck. Down on my arms. Several of my wings where I’d already been wounded. I screamed so loud it pierced through the noise of the chaos.
“EVERHEART.”
Tassarion bellowed, but already his voice was fading. I fyused back into my Seraphim skin, tumbling to the bloody floor.
“We have the Nebulari,” garbled a bloodhound. “We will bring her to the High Farasee.”
“The Hèls you will,” Tassarion raged.
A tsunami of souls plunged into the ballroom.
Darkness flooded every crevice. There was a commotion.
Chaos. And all the while, I continued to fade.
More hounds plundered my body, clawing and tearing.
I was broken. Overwhelmed. Defeated. I cried out to the Infinite for help, but I was met with silence and emptiness. Refusing to give up, I tried again.
“Infinite, only you can turn this darkness around. I beg of you. Please.”
Bright light, like a shooting star, shot across the heavens above the open ceiling. Then suddenly, the chamber fell into a blanket of midnight. Not an angel, shifter, fae, gargoyle, or even soul or spirit could be seen. Shouts of despair filled the blackness.
Marcèllian howled one last time.
Then his voice was cut short.
Was he dead? Had Tassarion finally killed the vile angel?
Endless souls plunged into the bloodhounds surrounding them.
The possessed dogs released me, howling in torment.
The souls sank their teeth and ephemeral claws into the dogs, ravaging them.
An unnatural peace settled in my chest. Tears streamed down my cheeks.
I felt cold. Felt like I was free-falling into a deep abyss.
I knew this feeling well. I’d felt it before.
I was dying.
“Stay with me, Everheart. Music of my soul. Do not leave me.”
My eyes fell shut as the abyss called my name and Death reached for my hand.
And in the dark's chaos, a diaphanous figure surfaced, floating out of the floorboards to my side. It took a moment for me to register who it was.
“Saundeiah!” Tassarion howled. His voice was in so much pain. I hated that I couldn’t do anything about it. Too broken to move. To ease the pain of my wingmate. “Saunie, help her!”
The twinight plunged into further darkness, unnaturally. Saundeiah floated to my side, blending in with the night. When she reached me, the Nanmiess grinned.
“Our Roi wants me to help,” she whispered for me alone to hear, amidst the continual cacophony of battle and chaos. “So I will.”
Then Saundeiah gnashed her teeth, hissing. She plunged a blade deep into my side, sliding it through my ribs. It wasn’t until I felt the ichor inside my body that I realized the blade was coated with poisonous majik.
“Long may you live in the Six Hèls, Nebulari,” she hissed into my ear. “And may our Fallen gods ravish the Bastard Queen.”
A scream to shatter the madness of the twinight careened in the air above me.
It was when I felt how raw my throat was that I realized the scream had come from me.
It had never been only Marcèllian who betrayed the Everthorns.
Saundeiah played her part, too. And well.
I heaved, a gush of blood pouring through my teeth.
“SAUNDEIAH,” Tassarion roared through a strangled cry. “What in the hèls have you done?”
A wailing cry, a mournful lament, swept through the air above.
War waged around me as death swiftly made its way to me.
My blackfire receded and in its wake left me on the solitary stroll to the gates of the Ellelights.
Strong arms curled around my dying body.
Large but gentle hands pressed into my skin.
“I’m going to keep you,” Tassarion sobbed, his voice breaking. “Do you hear me, Everheart? The Elleligths will not have you, Nahomie. I am going to keep you.”
I wish he had more time to do so. My time had come. Death claimed me, pulling me into the dark. I breathed my last and tumbled into an eternal, endless night.