Chapter 105 – Azaria #2
“Kalias, stop! You’re hurting yourself!” I shouted, voice cracking.
Don’t care. You fool. Fool. The words pulsed into my mind, more a wounded snarl than language.
“Kalias, please. Stop this.” I stepped as close as I could, palm nearly pressed to the sizzling ward.
He kept snarling, teeth bared, ears flattened, tail lashing in pure anguish. Fool. Sister is a fool.
Despite everything—despite the pain and the dread—I managed a shaky laugh. “You always call me sister. I never knew what it meant.” My voice wobbled. “Kin. Sister. Wolf.”
Kin. Sister. Wolf. He pressed his bloody head against the ward, eyes burning with grief.
“I’m not a wolf,” I whispered, voice trembling. “But I wish I could be. Thank you for choosing me, friend.”
His growl dropped.
I turned, eyes searching for Darann. He stepped forward, pressing both hands flat against the ward. “Princess,” he said, voice rough. “This is a shit plan.”
I managed a weak smile. “You’ve always said I had terrible ideas.”
“This one takes the fucking cake.” His jaw worked. “I’ll see you on the other side. Save me a drink.”
“Deal.”
He stepped back, and I found Quin’s face—tears streaming down his cheeks, lips parted in silent devastation.
“Azaria, Sweetheart, you can’t do this to me—“ His voice shattered on the words.
“I’m sorry, Quin.” My heart was breaking.
“Don’t apologize, just… fuck, please—please come back to me?—“
I shook my head, choking back tears. “I can’t.”
He thrashed again, slamming his fists into the barrier, Elias and Thorne struggling to hold him back.
“Quin, stop—please. Please stop.” My hand pressed flat against the ward, feeling it burn.
“I love you,” I whispered. “I wish we had more time. There were so many things I wanted to tell you, so many things I wanted us to do together. I’m sorry it had to be cut short.”
Quin couldn’t speak. He only watched me, mouth open, shaking.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Dain standing a little to the side, hands buried in his pockets. He wore that cocky half-smile, the one he saved for when he was holding himself together by sheer stubbornness. But his eyes—his eyes shone with unshed tears.
I stepped closer, laying my palm on the ward, not caring about the sizzle, the pain. Dain mirrored me, his hand lined up with mine, only the shimmering barrier between us.
“Hey, Dain,” I managed, voice thin but steady, pouring all my love into that one, simple greeting.
Dain offered that crooked, stubborn smile through the shimmer. “Hey, Az. You’ve really outdone yourself this time.”
I managed a laugh. “I thought you might appreciate a little drama.”
“You should’ve left some for the rest of us,” he said, voice thickening.
His smile faded, and something quiet settled between us.
“Dain?” My voice was small.
“Yeah?”
“Keep them from falling apart. For as long as you can. Please.” We both knew what I meant—his devotion to me was absolute. When this was over, he would follow me. It was a promise I didn’t want but could never dishonor.
“I will,” he said, voice barely more than a breath.
“You’re my heart and soul, Dain. I love you.”
He pressed his palm harder to the ward, eyes shining. “I love you too. Now, go save the world, Azaria Sylvenhart. And when you’re done, I’ll join you on the other side. I’ll be right behind you.”
I didn’t try to argue or ask him to stay. I told him what I knew to be the truth: “I’ll see you soon, Dain. In the life Beyond.”
“In the life Beyond,” he echoed.
I stepped back, reluctantly letting go. My eyes swept over every face—my people, my family, my heart.
“It was an honor to have met you all,” I said, voice trembling. “To have fought beside you. I am proud—“ my voice broke, “—to call you my squad.”
Lyra sobbed openly, Lirael holding her upright. Kael clutched Reyna, who shook with silent tears. Dain put a hand on Zeph’s shoulder, steadying him as tears streamed down his cheeks.
Hot air blasted the field—a final warning. I turned and saw the Boom bearing down, a wall of writhing black, a hundred paces away. Quin’s face went sheet-white, his lips parting in a silent plea.
“Az…” he breathed, broken.
A searing heat licked at my skin. I looked down—my palm was already streaked with black; the Abyss weaving into my flesh like smoke and rot. My chest heaved, terror clawing up my throat.
I looked at them all—my squad, the captains. Even Tywin’s face was twisted in anguish, the kind I’d never seen before.
“I’ll keep you all safe,” I promised, voice shaking but clear. “I swear it.”
Then I turned my back on them, facing the Abyss.
I let my sword and dagger fall from numb fingers; the steel clattering in the mud. They were useless now. Behind me, I heard Quin break—his sobs ripping through the ward, a sound I would carry to my grave.
Veshar’s voice barked through the chaos, unsteady: “Get back to the wardstones! Now!”
Tywin’s voice followed, hard and resolute. “Do not let your Captain’s courage be in vain.”
I didn’t turn again. I couldn’t. I squared my shoulders, fixed my gaze on the coming death, and waited for the end.
The air grew hotter, thick and stifling, pressing against my skin like a fever. The stench was everywhere—rotting meat, burned iron, old blood and poison, so strong it made my eyes water. Each breath scalded my lungs, thick and noxious, and with every heartbeat, terror clawed higher in my chest.
The Boom surged forward, a tidal wave of blackness that blotted out the world. I took one step back, then another, heels catching in the mud. I couldn’t run. There was nowhere to run.
The Abyss crashed over me. It wasn’t outside me—it forced its way in, a hot, writhing mass pressing into my nose, my mouth, my ears, my eyes.
It shoved itself down my throat, burning, slick, sickening.
It invaded every pore, every opening, wriggling beneath my skin, a thousand hot worms crawling through my flesh.
I tried to scream, but the Abyss filled my mouth, choking off any sound. I tried to gag, to vomit, to force it out, but it shoved itself deeper, relentless. I clawed at my throat, nails raking deep, desperate to gouge a hole, to let air in or let the rot out—anything, anything to end it.
My knees buckled, slamming to the earth.
My hands tore at my neck, bloody and frantic, but it was no use.
I could feel it pushing into my lungs, my chest, the burning, the pressure, the taste of sickly rot drowning every thought.
I was drowning, not in water but in filth, in agony, in the suffocating dark.
There was a moment of pure panic—my body flailing, convulsing, mind blank with terror. Then?—
I gave up.
My body sagged, mouth open in a silent, strangled plea. The world narrowed to blackness; the rot pressing out every last thought, every last breath, until there was nothing left at all. And then?—
Silence. And in the silence—a voice. Warm, deep, familiar.
“I’m waiting for you, Azaria.”
“I’m coming, Eris.”
Death.