Chapter 17 Thayla #2
Nero analyzes us in silence, and Doren smiles like we’re taking a walk through the fucking meadows. He doesn’t seem concerned in the slightest about where we are.
Which is both confusing and worrisome.
Does Hell not scare him because he lived his own when he was in service to the other gods?
That thought enrages me.
The crunch of the ground is the only sound we make as we traverse across the short barren space separating us from the Division. The emptiness is unsettling.
Kyzen, Riven, and Amick close in around me when two gods step seemingly out of thin air as soon as we approach the massive double doors. My arm twitches with the desire to grab a sword as the entire weight of their attention falls on Creed.
Their features morph from stern to fearful as they hit one knee and lay their fist to their hearts.
“Rise. The entire entourage behind me will travel with me today.”
“Yes, sir.”
They hop up like their asses are on fire and pull the doors open wide.
The bombarding sound of shouts, conversations, pleas, you name it, fades to heavy silence as we stomp to the center of the room. My ears ring as I gawk around at the many bodies that have fallen still, and the marble that’s decorating this enormous space.
The outside is so contradictory to the inside.
It’s so much like the Sanctum in terms of beauty, smooth surfaces, and regards to the gods.
Nothing like Creed.
The beings scattered about are just as confusing.
Some look very unsavory. Their cruel gazes and dark veins scream I’m headed to the Judgment Rings. Some, though, appear as normal as we do. They’re a prime example that you can’t always see evil on the surface.
“Sir,” a god says as he rushes up to Creed and bows his head. “Welcome home.”
His soul twitches within my chest, and I really don’t know if I should react. The way his shoulders are bunched to his ears gives me the impression he doesn’t want to be fucked with right now. I also don’t want him drowning in these overwhelming emotions he’s got going on.
He’s a powerful mixture of bitterness, anger, and hatred that’s maybe internal and external.
“We’re going to pay Zareb a visit. Prepare a carriage and two Veilatara.”
“I’m sorry, two what?”
My question has a hush even quieter than what we were already standing in falling over the Division.
“Go,” Creed orders, causing the god to jump and bow once again.
“Right away, sir.”
He scurries off, and my glare deepens.
Without looking over his shoulder, Creed reaches his hand back, and I stare at it. From behind me, though, Riven gives me a little shove forward.
I cast a glance at him, and the solemn look on his face intensifies my unease.
My fidgeting fingers lace with Creed’s, and every eye in here tracks our movements. I hold my tongue until our entire group enters a long hallway.
“What the hell did you mean two Veilatara?”
He lets out a low sigh.
“I need you to understand that everything that goes on here wasn’t my doing, but there’s more I should’ve and could’ve already done, and haven’t.”
V’s words echo in my mind, and I swallow roughly.
“You weren’t the first God of Death.”
“No, I wasn’t. I killed him when I was seven and my father brought me here for the first time. It was an unfair execution. One that wouldn’t have happened had my father let Vihaan use his powers fairly.”
He falls quiet, and the stern mask he had a moment ago reappears on his face as we make it to the end of the hall. The space opens up once again to a large room that’s even more full than the one we just left.
He doesn’t slow his steps as we approach a heavily guarded door in the center of this strange area. My curious gaze turns both ways, and I find more doors with gods—some chained together, some not—lined up, waiting to pass through the thresholds.
There are guards scattered about as well. Our group and them are the only ones with weapons.
Gods…is this a role from Godsden they’re assigned or were they once the criminals who’ve done their time and are now in charge of keeping people in line?
I startle as the door opens, and the god who Creed ordered to prepare a carriage steps out of it, bowing low to us.
“Your carriage awaits, sir.”
My gasp echoes around us, and I cover my mouth as my eyes roam over the boundless sight before me.
Creed and Kyzen attempt to pull me back by my elbows, but I snatch free as I gawk over the cliff’s edge.
Shock tears through me as I trace the many structures hundreds of feet below us. There’s no sun, which means there are no stars or moon. The only light source is the blazing fire pits and torches spread out everywhere.
“This is the upper level. It’s where those whose crimes aren’t as horrid come.
I know this is a shocker and believe me, a lot of this place is wrong, but remember, these gods are criminals.
The only true change they experience by coming here is they’re cut off from the glitz, beauty, and luxuries of Godsden.
For those from the Abandon, this life is nothing they aren’t used to. ”
My gaping mouth opens and closes repeatedly as I peer between Creed and the structures.
Note to self, remember to ask him how beings from the Abandon get here at a more appropriate time.
“I don’t know what to think. I’m just shocked. I didn’t expect to see…like a whole-ass town at the bottom of a freaking cliff.”
He grunts as his fingers wrap around my bicep. “Let’s go.”
My feet stutter as he turns us around, and my stomach bottoms out.
“No,” I breathe.
Kyzen, Riven, and Amick stand at the open carriage doors without the others, and their sober, most certainly angry faces, search mine. I can’t focus on them.
Attached to the front is the most horrific sight I’ve ever seen.
The two Veilatara don’t resemble the revered creatures I’ve grown to know and love.
Rotting wounds litter their—what’s supposed to be—gorgeous black coats, and their golden braids are merely a pale yellow. Instead of boundless white eyes, theirs are abysses of black. Their muscled legs are nothing more than skeletons, and their impressive wings aren’t feathered.
They’re webbed skin.
“What is this? What happened to them?”
“I’ll explain on the flight. I promise. Please, Thayla, the faster we get there, the faster we leave.” The plea in his tone stabs my soul, and my heart races.
I know good and fucking well whatever this is, is nothing he’d ever be truly okay with.
I nod and allow him to guide me to the others.
Their gentle touches and caressing of their soul simmer the…I can’t even call it rage. I don’t know what’s bubbling inside of me. Yeah, I’m pissed, but also deep disappointment washes through me.
Tense silence fills the carriage as we take our seats, and the wheels roll back. I’m not the least bit excited or curious to watch out the window of this flight.
Instead, I observe the stark differences between the Godsdawn carriages and this one.
Namely, it’s not at all luxurious. I mean, it doesn’t need to be, so that doesn’t really matter, but the dull leather and random extra seats take me by surprise.
I think that god Creed ordered around just placed two random chairs in here to accommodate us.
“I believe proper introductions and a thanks are in order. Our journey thus far wouldn’t have been as smooth as it has been without all of you.”
I stare at Doren.
His tone isn’t nearly as cheery as it has been, but his isolation from people has obviously stunted his ability to read a situation.
“I’ll begin. I’m Doren, God of Discovery. I’m sure Thayla filled you all in on everything she learned about me in our last encounter. We can spend some time after this truly getting to know one another. I really look forward to that. This is one of my Valtrue members, Nero Valadi. He’s—”
“Allow me, Doren.”
“Of course, of course.”
I tilt my head at the stern but patient look on Nero’s face. I’m not sure but can assume Doren found him pretty quickly after our encounter, and they’ve spent all their time together since then.
“As he said, my name is Nero Valadi. I’m a Valveilious Mediator.” None of us respond and he roams his gaze over each of us. “Something you all already knew. Which isn’t surprising given Kyzen’s role in Godsden. That is you, correct?”
Kyzen nods. “That’s correct. I recall your time in the Godsdawn overlapped with ours for a few years.”
“I apologize for not having the same recollection. The information that the sons of Obliteration were now living in the Godsdawn was a well-kept secret for many years. You’re all well known in Valveilious, though.”
Again, none of my Valtrue responds as they stare him down. I get the overwhelming sense that there’s more to that statement that I don’t understand. I’m not in the mood at the moment to decipher it.
An annoyed sigh leaves my lips as this…pissing contest between him and my men continues. They’re obviously trying to get a feel for him, but my nerves are too on edge for this tense stare-off.
“So anyways, Doren, officially, this is Kyzen, Creed, Amick, and Riven.”
“It’s very nice to meet all of you. Officially.”
Riven’s the only one to grace him with a smile. Kyzen attempts to, but it falls short. Creed grunts, and Amick nods.
Fucking lovely.
“Sevryn, care to add anything?”
He huffs out a ‘not a thing’ and I grit my teeth.
“Great. Glad we covered that. Now I’d like an explanation on absolutely anything that’s happening right now.”
“Where would you like me to start?”
Creed’s question holds a touch more attitude than I’d appreciate, but the way he’s staring out the window mindlessly makes me bite my tongue.
I take a deep breath and calm myself down.
“I guess wherever is simplest. Where are we going? Why has this been so smooth so far when you all acted like we were going to get attacked the moment we walked in? The Veilatara? Any answer to those questions would make me happier than I am right now.”
A harsh exhale whistles from his nose. He bows and shakes his head before turning to me.
“We needed to be as prepared as possible depending on what part of Hellveilious we ended up going to. The respect you saw shown to me back at the Division slowly, but surely, fades out the farther in Hellveilious we travel. The lower level has respect for no one. Even though the God of Judgment made it seem that way, the beings down there would kill him the second they could.”
Sevryn grunts an agreeing sound. The threats thrown his way when our sudden death match was announced remind me of how fast they all turned on the God of Judgment. So yeah, that makes sense.
“As for the Veilatara…” His jaw muscles lock and he stares down at his white knuckles. “Do you know what happens when you kill a Veilatara?”
My head jerks. “No. It never really occurred to me to study such an awful subject either.”
“The pathetic fucks get a nice little power boost.” Riven growls, and my attention whirls to him and the infuriated scowl on his face.
“Like a permanent one or?”
“Nope.” The word pops off his tongue as a pleased smirk tilts his lips. “The fucking fools get to live out that glorious sensation for only a blip in time. In the end, they suffer a miserable, usually self-inflicted, death as their minds fracture and the power rebels.”
A loud ‘HA’ barks out of him as his eyes swirl. Neither power takes control, but this is obviously a very sensitive subject for him, and I didn’t even think about that before bringing it up.
“You’d think all the pieces of shits would learn from each other’s mistakes. The Veilatara’s power is too pure to be held by the likes of us. They’re blessed directly by the Valories. They’re conducts of the original design. They’re living archives.
“Their hooves create pockets of fertile land with every gallop. Their breath purifies the air. Their presence near water prevents stagnation. We wonder why our realm is in such shit. We’re given precious creatures that give us fierce loyalty and balance and what do we do?
Kill half of them off. Cause even more to go extinct. ”
The passion in his words sends my heart pounding and fingers shaking.
He’s so undeniably right.
There’s no telling the consequences the realm’s really experienced from killing off the Vedarya and so many Veilatara.
Valories…it’s so fucking wrong.
Creed clears his throat and I focus back on him.
“The God of Creatures and the previous God of Death didn’t support the killings of the Veilatara, but they didn’t do shit to stop it either.
Their solution was that if a slain Veilatara was found, the God of Creatures would bring it here and have it rise from the dead.
They figured giving them a role here would be better than nothing. ”
“Better than nothing? Such as decomposing in the ground like they’re supposed to when and if they die?”
He grunts. “Yeah. I’ve always disagreed with it, but I didn’t know what to do. Then Verlet came along.”
I take his cryptic, short sentence as he’s not comfortable with Doren and Nero knowing Verlet is their companion.
“I told him I would put them all down and give them a proper burial. He asked me not to until the Veilatara were no longer strapped. They’d like to give their fallen a righteous return. I’ve honored his request.”
The emotion lodged in my chest is suffocating. His guilt weighs as heavily as my hatred for this whole situation.
It bothers me even more that he takes responsibility for this. He wasn’t the one killing the Veilatara or bringing them back from the dead.
A process I didn’t even know was possible, but can obviously tell it doesn’t work right.
“Where is it we’re traveling? You didn’t address it, nor have you ever flown us this way. I don’t even recognize the landscape below us.”
Amick’s observation has my eyes widening. For multiple reasons.
One, he’s been silent since we got in the carriage. I figured he was zoned out in his own thoughts, but it seems he’s been listening and processing.
Two, I don’t know if I’m more surprised by the fact that they’ve come to Hellveilious with him more than I realized. Or that he’s kept wherever we’re going, a secret from even them.
Creed stares down at his feet with his eyes pinched closed.
“I call it the Soul Chamber. It’s where I keep pieces or whole souls locked away.”
Oh…fuck.