74
Kora
The stone within her chest exploded. The firefly warmth snuffed out by darkness.
She felt the moment Aryn died, his soul passing.
It was inconceivable, the emptiness he left behind consumed her.
Aerion’s cries raked her ears, her own merging with his into warbled outrage.
Erick held her back, keeping her away from Barron as a sly grin broke out upon his face.
Raiden stood there, frozen in shock as Aerion’s cries intensified, his grief palpable.
“Get the body,” Barron quietly ordered Samuel.
Samuel.
He was a ghost. He didn’t recognise any of them, wearing that sickening armour like a second skin.
Gaunt and frayed, his eye battered and reeking of gods-knew-what.
Kora’s gaze swivelled to Theron, shivering as Barron stepped over him, leaving him behind for death.
He was ghastly, worse than before. Those sores covered every inch of skin, pus leaking and mixing with his blood.
The black veins on his face protruded, his irises consumed by darkness.
His breath rattled in his chest, wheezing with every wet inhale. Theron was going to die.
Erick groaned, weakened from losing Zephyr’s gift. Had he stolen it? Kora stepped away from him, unable to fathom it. Larissa’s body floated beyond Raiden, unconscious and most probably dead from the way she looked like a kebab.
She had no idea if any of the others were safe, if they were alive. The ash cloud thickened so much she could hardly see the desecrated city. Mistros City had fallen. The volcano would perish Zephyr and the evacuees. She hoped, she prayed, they would survive. That the mountains would protect them.
But Zephyr’s power hung around Barron’s neck. Did the king have any power left? Were the citizens of Galen defenceless and magicless?
Kora’s mind roared. Her essence was drained. They had no hope against Barron, he could kill them all now if he wanted to. His black-on-white eyes were eerie, burning brightly like beams of light. Whatever weapon Samuel wielded was powerful, the might of a cannon contained in his own hands.
And he’d killed Aryn with it.
Her skildaj. Her protector.
Her mended heart splintered, her mind fracturing. Coldness consumed her as her hope faded until it was a speck in the wind. She was so tired. So weak. She had nothing left to give. She couldn’t save them.
They were all going to die.
The shredded hole in her chest became too much, Aryn’s absence crackling into the void, seeping into every pore. She was cold. So cold. His warmth no longer shielded her from the darkness.
I can save them, Kordelia soothed. Whispering from the depths, sweeping across Kora’s mind like a cool blanket against the burning ash cloud.
Let me help, she touched on that fathomless hole in Kora’s core. Tracing its edge, burning it until Kora whimpered. The agony of her broken Tvinnr Fyr tearing her in two. She screamed, pulling on her wet hair as Aryn’s death rolled through her repeatedly. So cold. So dark.
I can avenge him for you. For us.
An offering. Kordelia’s coldness receded, replaced by pure vengeance, singing brightly from the dark.
Kora sank, closing her eyes as she nestled into the familiar comfort of revenge. All at once, she plunged into cool, black water, sinking lower. Sweet, numb relief consumed her, sealing her away, telling her to rest as she succumbed to the dark.
Control was hers. This body moved freely to her will as Kordelia glanced at her master. Her creator. His darkness reflected her own, and as she stepped forward, he stilled, turning round to face her.
“My, my. What have we here?” he practically purred, and Kordelia grinned.
“No! Kora!” Raiden cried. Everyone was crying. How pathetic.
The scene was chaotic. What had Kora gotten herself into? The silly human always ended up in the most dramatic predicaments.
“Fascinating,” Barron reached out, touching her skin gently. It was warm, delightful, and Kordelia leaned into it, relishing the sensation of touch. “You’re mine.”
She paused as Barron’s grip turned rough, gripping her neck. Pain soared, something she hadn’t felt before.
“Absolutely, entirely, mine.”
“I am no one’s,” she responded, her voice dark and levelled. “I am caged no more.”
With a sweep of her arm, darkness slammed into Barron and he laughed, absorbing the magic.
“Yes, give it to me. Show me what you’ve got, pet.”
Kordelia snarled. She hated the name just as much as Kora did, although it was amusing to taunt Kora with it. This pathetic male may have created her, but she would never bow to him. Kordelia pushed him back, noticing Erick sliding down the dock, helping Aerion pick up Aryn’s body.
An uncomfortable feeling flared in her chest. What was this?
Grief? Kordelia forced it down, her ire at this human cage propelling her magic at Barron.
It took the form of water, but dark, rippling, like shimmering onyx stone.
It was Kora’s stolen gift, taken through the leeches lurking beneath her mental cage.
The statue Kora referred to as Samuel shoved Erick away easily, then reached for Aryn’s body.
Aerion cried once again—it was getting annoying—as Samuel’s brute force from the armour kicked Aerion back.
He grabbed Aryn by the ankles and Barron whispered, his orders flowing through his dark magic connecting him to his braindead minions.
In a twist Kordelia hadn’t predicted, Samuel hurled Aryn’s body, throwing it far into the ash cloud.
A splash followed and Aerion bellowed, racing towards Samuel.
Wind whipped across the deck, fierce and lashing.
In the back of Kordelia’s mind, the smallest of urges commanded her, telling her to stop this all now.
As Barron laughed, consuming her magical attacks like a never-ending trench, Kordelia threw a wave of power at Samuel. Barron’s laugh vanished as the armour encasing Samuel crumbled, stone disintegrated into powder, falling apart down to his feet.
He was disgusting. Putrid and skinny. By the gods, humans reeked.
Samuel breathed, inhaling deeply. Some level of normal clarity returned to his stare, and he crumbled to the dock with a howl. Aerion came to a stop, his hand raised mid-air for a strike.
It was far too much emotion.
Theron peered up from his position, his breathing laboured.
His magic danced across his stare, the veins writhing and snaking out, pulling images of the future from thin air and showing them to him.
Kordelia grimaced as they all turned to darkness before her.
As a creature of the void, she could see an illusion’s gift.
Speaking of illusions. She glanced to her former lover, sodden in ash, blood, and rain. He was still perfection. Still desirable. Yet she now wanted nothing to do with him.
A darker, more tempting male had caught her attention.
Raiden’s own illusion power poked her, his nose bleeding as he probed, looking for a way in. Males were such idiots. She pushed back mentally with the same effort as swatting a fly, and Raiden stumbled, his face falling.
“I created you!” Barron yelled. “Submit to me!”
Kordelia snarled, snapping her jaw. “I am my own. I am darkness. I am the void.”
Delving deep, following the path back to her home in the void, Kordelia summoned everything she had, and it flowed into Barron’s chest like a spear. His eyes bulged, the black fading, the stormy gaze returning.
“It’s too much. Stop!”
Barron gripped her forearm, pulling Kordelia close. His power shuddered within his stare, unable to settle as she overloaded it. If she couldn’t kill from the outside, then she’d explode him from the inside out.
A small thread of panic lingered at the edge.
Kordelia spared a glance towards Raiden, her lips curling. “Go, fly boy.”
“Come with us!” he urged.
Barron’s grip squeezed, as their dark powers melded together.
She’d underestimated him, and as the spear of power faltered, Barron’s own darkness retaliated, tangling with hers.
Like kraken’s tentacles, they wrapped around Kordelia’s human shell.
Her control must’ve weakened from the expenditure of power, this measly human skin pitiful against true wielding.
“See you in the void, pet.” Barron winked.
Cold darkness that wasn’t her own consumed her. Submerging her. She wrestled as his slimy tendrils coiled around her, forcing Kordelia back inside her own cage. Forcing her to submit. Kordelia screamed, her watery darkness leaking out, unable to withstand the crushing power of Barron’s magic.
He’d trapped her—even her corporeal form. The power she’d tried to expand him with, in hopes that his own flesh bag couldn’t contain it, had just made him invincible. Capable of creating prisons in the mortal realm, beyond the void.
And now, the human vessel slumbered. Her fifteen minutes of freedom ended. Kordelia sighed, floating back in the dark abyss, the endless void. Home.
Somewhere beyond, cries echoed. The ears of this human body still attuned to the realm outside. Darkness unfurled, consuming the air, wiping out the light. Thuds of power landed, the stench of familiar black armour burning a hole in the fabric of reality.
“Kora!” Raiden’s voice broke through, but the darkness pushed it away.
“Do you think they’re alright?” Kora whispered beside her. Kordelia glanced over at her shiny counterpart. She was stretched out, hands behind her head, blue eyes lighting up their corner of the darkness.
“Don’t be stupid. Barron will kill them all.” Kordelia paused, a strange new feeling overcoming her. Was this . . . regret? “I’m afraid I didn’t avenge the archer.
Kora remained silent, fidgeting as she adjusted to Kordelia’s home. They both had been grappling for control for so long, and Barron had subsequently locked them in together. She’d spent a decade resenting Kora, wishing for her demise. But now, the company didn’t seem entirely catastrophic.
A white thread lit up the void, spearing from Kora’s chest to the beyond. It was faint, and thin, and wholly too bright for Kordelia’s personal dark space. It ruined the décor.
Kora smiled, thrumming it gently. “Could be worse.”
“Pray tell, what’s worse than this, human?”
“We could be dead. Now we have a chance. Together.”