Chapter 38 #2
Soon enough, he had created a web that covered all of Inverholm.
Stretching from the farthest reaches of the Pleasure District, through the Factory District, the homes of the nobles near the castle, into the castle itself, down into the Water District.
Every part of this kingdom was woven with his and her magic.
The faintest voice broke through his shell, a voice that he recognized.
Sybil quietly, or perhaps loudly and he couldn’t hear her, asked, “Are you going to be able to hold it?”
“I must,” he said.
Elric could see his body unraveling much like Jessamine’s had. He was darkness. He was shadows. He was the god of the dead who would keep them here so that they could continue living.
He headed out into the middle of the widest street and settled himself upon it.
Bending his legs, he wrapped his arms around them and then…
stayed. For however long it took. He let the world continue on and time pass in increments that he only barely recognized.
Moments that were just snippets of memories.
The relief when the first district was free of the infection.
The whispers of his coven as they moved past him, making sacrifices so that his focus would never wane.
Deeper voices. Hugo and Alexander, murmuring their support of him and their well wishes. Their thanks for him giving them back their lives.
A squeeze on his shoulder as Agnes and Elissa visited. A blanket placed over his body so that he wouldn’t get cold during the bitter evenings while the coven worked.
And finally, the blissful end of his journey. He could breathe again. There were no more souls to trap. Just a kingdom full of people who had no need for the god of the dead to help them anymore.
When he opened his eyes again, Sybil was seated in front of him, and the entire kingdom had changed.
The streets were no longer splattered with blood.
The carts that had been tipped over and surrounded by rotting vegetables and fruits were no longer broken.
Now they were filled with produce that looked downright edible. And there were people.
So many people. All villagers and workers who were moving about their day, heading to jobs that had desperately needed them. Fixing the exterior of homes with broken windows and shattered doorways. People who were doing their best to return to some semblance of normal.
His gaze moved back to the witch sitting cross-legged in front of him.
Her hair was pulled back from her face, the tangled locks brushed clean now.
The curls were bouncy, shiny in the sunlight that made her skin seem to glow.
Her clothing was clean, and not something that looked like it had spent the better part of its most recent years in an old woman’s closet.
The white shirt was parted to reveal the crack down her chest where his gifts still boiled, and her pants were fitted to her skin.
With shiny boots on her legs, she looked very much like a pirate who had come off a ship to plunder.
But he had never seen her look so at peace. So well fed. So… happy.
“There you are,” Sybil said with a grin. “I was wondering when you would come back to us.”
“I did my best to hurry,” he replied, and then winced as his back muscles seized and flared. “You were the ones who had to get everything done on time.”
“Oh, we know.” That grin never budged. “That’s why we didn’t rush. You deserved to experience a little hard work after living a life of luxury for so many years.”
Elric wasn’t even going to deign to respond to that. He glared at her before standing. She had to catch him, as his legs wobbled, because he hadn’t walked in what felt like…
“Five weeks,” Sybil said as she tucked herself underneath his arm. “Five weeks and we’re still piecing everything back together. But I think she’d be happy.”
“Would she?”
“Considering how many people in this kingdom are now worshipping her?” She snorted. “I think she’ll be very pleased. She might not be our queen, but she is most certainly revered. Goddess. Queen. What’s the difference?”
“A lot, actually.”
“Semantics.” She looked up at him with a soft smile on her face. “But I’m still part of your coven, Deathless One. No matter how many folks are worshipping the Endless One, you will always be my god.”
“At least I still have one,” he muttered, before allowing her to help him onto a bench on the side of the street.
He stared at this new version of Inverholm, noticing that there were quite a few differences as well.
Like witches walking down the street, using spells to magically lift objects out of the way.
Ensorcelled quills that trailed along behind people taking notes on what they needed to fix.
Women he knew were part of the coven, walking through these streets without a single hint of fear on their faces.
“A lot has changed,” Elric said through the thick emotions binding his throat.
Sybil sat down next to him on the bench and nodded. Spreading her arms behind herself, she said, “It has. I think we’re on the right track now, though. And I think it would be all right if you left for a bit.”
“If I left?”
“Well, someone has to go get her.” Again, that grin that always made her look like she was up to no good. “They are ready. And I believe so is she.”