117. Lazarus
LAZARUS
The moment we step through the barrier surrounding Abyrion’s city, and beyond, his palace, Violette’s lips part in awe.
She quickly snaps her mouth shut as she scans our surroundings—a stunning blend of architecture that reminds me vaguely of Ancient Rome and India.
Verdant flora spills out from every facade and crevice, like a jungle in the city.
So much so that I’m certain if everyone were to abandon this place, the jungle would reclaim it entirely in a matter of weeks.
Animals and shifters alike stalk the streets, along with magical beings from virtually every realm with very little exception.
All dressed in explosions of color and pomp to celebrate their nameless king’s carnivale.
Sinsól is, to my begrudging admission, a beautiful place. If you can ignore the disparity, that is. Of course, Abyrion has his guests enter almost directly in front of the palace, which is far enough away from the slums and detritus that one would never guess the horror that lies beyond.
I, however, can feel it. A misery so potent it longs for the solace of death. And tonight, for once, it’s in our favor.
When Somnus came to me at Persephone’s, I was little more than a bald, skeletal mass of re-composing flesh.
Naturally, he’d found it hilarious. I’d already had every intention of returning to my sweet seraphim, obviously.
Though I hadn’t planned on attending Abyrion’s heinous carnival of hedonism, if my seraphim wants revenge, then she shall have it.
Rescuing Somnus and Lucen’s soulbound, however, was not part of my plans.
The female’s soul is beyond saving at this point. It would be a mercy to kill her and let her purge, heal, and repay her karmic debts in Avernus with Mors and Mareina.
That being said, I’m never above a good bargain, and I have my own atonements to make.