11. Creed
Creed
Never thought I’d admit it, but the Court is off without Gladian here.
It’s not bad. Just different.
When Sevryn and I first arrived, I chalked the sensation up to knowing why he hadn’t been here. Now that hours have passed, I sense his absence.
He’s withdrawn his power from the Holding. The small enclave where we’d all pile in on his order would hum with his energy even without that wall of power. Nothing but stone remains now.
“Swords down. That’s enough for today.”
My command echoes around the arena, silencing grunts and the sounds of wood clashing with wood. Small murmurs leave the Defenders’ lips as they pass me, heading toward the chambers.
“Your face is going to get stuck like that,” I say as Sevryn stomps toward me, wearing his signature sneer.
“You’re cutting training short. What gives?”
“You didn’t get your fill of shit-talking and swinging swords around?” I ask.
He huffs a laugh, falling into step beside me as I head toward the exit.
“You can head home. Make sure our Binders haven’t killed any Beginning Gods yet. I have an errand to run before I go back.”
He raises a brow.
“An errand? Since when do you run errands?”
“Whenever one needs to be run.”
“Ah, I see.”
His sarcasm follows us into the empty tunnel.
“You’re trying to sneak off to Hell all by yourself. Your Binder is going to fuck you up when she finds out.”
I smirk. I can only imagine the mood she’ll be in after spending the entire day training with the God of Boundaries and Consequence.
I have no issues adjusting her attitude.
Or punching either of them if they actually upset her.
“She’s not. I’m not sneaking off to do anything. I need to check on something. She’ll understand when I tell her why.”
“Yeah, okay,” he snorts. “So what are we checking on?”
My footsteps halt and I turn toward him.
“We aren’t checking on anything. I am.”
His sneer returns.
“Why the fuck can’t I come?”
“Because you’re not going to like where I’m going.”
“And? I’d rather go to Hell than tell Thayla you ran off alone.”
I roll my eyes and continue toward the exit.
I don’t want anyone with me. I need to face this alone, without someone watching me choke on it. What I want to do—what’s been driving me damn near crazy since hearing Gladian’s story—is embarrassing.
The second I say that, though, he’ll start asking questions, and I’m not in the mood to explain. If he tells Thayla I disappeared into Hellveilious alone, though, I really will be in trouble.
My jaw clenches.
Fuck it.
What’s he going to do? Tease me?
“Fine,” I grunt. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
He gives me a curious stare I ignore.
My power wraps around me and whisks me away to the entrance of Hell. He appears beside me just as quickly.
Wordlessly, we pass through the barrier.
I don’t have to coax or wait for him. He gives the unwelcoming black abyss a brief scowl, and we step off the edge together.
The silent walk to the Division breaks when guards appear from the walls, swords drawn.
As soon as they realize it’s me, they drop to a knee.
“Rise.”
“Yes, sir.”
They obey and open the doors. I force myself not to shake my head at the beings waiting to be processed.
Vihaan had this system running so perfectly when I first took over. Now, I couldn’t tell you who decides these beings deserve to be here.
Honestly…I never cared enough to know until now.
High enough crimes committed in the Godsdawn would be tried by Ellian. So I’d be informed about them. In Godsden, though, a council of seven appointed gods is supposed to handle offenses worthy of punishment.
It never bothered me that the Beginning Gods appointed them.
It does now. I don’t know them. Don’t know if I can trust that they aren’t sending whoever they want down here.
There’s no telling who decides anything in Valveilious. Look at Iric. My mother simply decided this was where he belonged.
I’ve never had any control over who came from the Abandon. Those beings are criminals and deserve to be here, but now I don’t know if they’re being punished or if they’re here just gaining access to the other gods.
I swear to the Valories, I feel like I don’t know shit anymore.
“Sir,” Faron says as he rushes over. “Welcome home.”
Home…Never going to happen.
I nod.
“I’ll be in the Crypt. I’d prefer no one know I’m here today.”
His eyes widen briefly before he recovers.
“Of course, sir. Shall I expect the Goddess of Death to join?”
Sevryn snorts beside me.
“Not today.”
He bows and steps aside as we head toward the back hall.
My gaze scans the beings waiting, and my stomach cramps. It only loosens after my power sweeps over them.
They all have sullied souls.
“I can’t believe you told everyone here she was the Goddess of Death,” Sevryn says, pulling me from my concentration.
“What else would I have called her? Giving her that title ensured she’d be safe-ish coming here.”
“I’m not disagreeing. I just find it hilarious. You should’ve seen her face that day we came here and she was addressed as such.”
My mouth curves slightly. I bet that was a shock.
Still can’t believe her ass came here without me.
We’d still be prisoners of the Goddess of Creation otherwise.
Maybe worse.
I place my hand against Sevryn’s chest, stopping him from opening the center door. He arches a brow, but I ignore him as my fingers wrap around the handle. I close my eyes, summon my power, then push my permission through.
The power from the other side tingles through my hand as the illusion wall shifts through the fabric of this cursed space. When the sensation settles, I open my eyes.
I don’t explain. I grab Sevryn’s elbow and pull him through.
“What the fuck…” he breathes, jumping aside.
I give him a teasing smirk as I run my hands through the floating essence. It drifts lazily around our ankles, cool and silver beneath the faint glow lining the path.
No torches line the wide stone walls. Incandescent crystals thread through the darkness, glowing with muted shades of blue, violet, and soft white like trapped starlight beneath ice. The light is gentle, casting everything in a dreamlike haze.
His head turns in every direction. I do the same, slower.
“Creed. Where in Hell are we?” he whispers.
“You heard me say where we were going.”
“Yeah, the fucking Crypt. I thought we were going to some damp room lined with dead gods. Not…this.”
I hum.
“Come on.”
His footsteps falter behind me, and I swallow a laugh. He’s fascinated and freaked the fuck out.
Massive pillars line the path, rising toward the unseen ceiling. As we pass, carvings shimmer, recognizing my presence.
“I’m going to visit Vihaan,” I say after several moments.
He groans.
“I should’ve asked more questions. Better yet, you should’ve told me what you were doing.”
“I told you that you wouldn’t like where I was going.”
“I assumed you meant Hell or that weird-ass Soul Chamber. You could’ve said, ‘Hey, I’m visiting where your dead uncle is buried.’ You literally said nothing.”
I shrug.
“You’re such an asshole,” he scoffs. “What’s the point of this? You heard Gladian’s story and now you want to what? Pay your respects?”
Despite his sarcasm, my throat tightens.
“Yeah. Actually.”
His stare burns into the side of my face.
“The day I killed him, he smiled at me. Told me it was okay. Everyone kept smiling at me like I was doing exactly what I was supposed to do.”
“Well,” he says quietly, clearing his throat. “In our fathers’ eyes, you were.”
I shake my head.
“By then, the wrongness was starting to settle in my mind. I wanted to fight it. But I didn’t. I obeyed. Then I smiled gratefully when my father told me Hellveilious was mine.”
I swallow.
“If he hadn’t had Vihaan on his knees, wrapped in his power—”
“Then what?” Sevryn cuts in. “You think he would’ve fought the God of Obliteration? Killed you? Come on, Creed.”
“I’m serious. None of it would’ve happened that way if my father made us truly face each other.”
“It would’ve gone the same,” he scoffs. “Vihaan was trapped. Killing you would’ve meant his own death too. There has to be a God of Death.”
I cut my eyes at him but say nothing.
He sighs.
“I hope you didn’t drag me here to apologize for killing an uncle I never knew about. You know I don’t hold that against you.”
“Yeah, because you’re so emotionally stable nowadays.”
“Ha. You’re hilarious. Seriously, though. What are we doing here?”
“I just—”
My words stop as my own voice echoes through the sacred space.
I inhale slowly and face him.
“I want to pay my respects and apologize. If you don’t want to be here, go back to the door. It’ll let you pass.”
“So this isn’t some weird ploy to make me accept Gladian?”
My face scrunches.
“What? No. I don’t care if you accept him. This annoying need to come here started after he told us his story. I want it gone.”
He studies me, then nods down the path.
Our silent steps carry us farther into the Crypt and we both observe the many tombstones we pass. Despite the weight of death, this place doesn’t feel cruel. At least it doesn’t to me. It feels still.
Peaceful in the way abandoned temples are peaceful. Like a place built for endings that had long ago come to terms with grief. Even the air carries something strangely comforting. There are no screams echoing here. No torment waiting in the shadows.
Only rest.
I don’t know exactly who the gods laid to rest here are, but the first time Faron brought me here, he explained that it was all those who took care of Hell before him and before Vihaan.
As far as history goes, Vihaan was the first official God of Death.
Those before him didn’t wield the power like he or I do, but they had some range of abilities that allowed them to manipulate souls.
It’s my understanding that when he came along, with the undeniable power of Death, it shifted not only Hellveilious but the way of the realm.
At least that’s how Amick explained it to me. He claims that when a power that prominent is poured into the system, it becomes too intricate to eliminate.
Now, there always needs to be a God of Death.