135. Azrael
AZRAEL
Remorse drips from every word Mors speaks.
“You don’t even need to drink it. You could just dip your finger in.
” Persephone stands beside him, tears openly streaming down her face.
“Well, as you know, I don’t like to do things in half measures, and a sip is meant for a mortal.
” Mors frowns as though he’d hoped I wouldn’t realize this.
Mug in trembling hands, I kneel beside the river, glowing an unearthly shade of blue just as Persephone rushes forward, though Mors grasps her by the arm as if in fear of her tumbling in. “Azrael, wait?—”
My heart is in my throat, and I know if I don’t hurry up and do this, I might forfeit the whole idea. Already, every atom in my very being is screaming for me to return to Violette and Levi.
Fuck.
Am I making a mistake?
Logic helpfully returns, instantly supplying images of everyone I’ve known and loved dying, followed by the inevitability of having to watch Violette and Levi die.
All to be left alone.
Again.
To mourn.
Again.
And that is an event I cannot recover from.
Before Persephone can finish her sentence, there’s a dramatic burst of dark red magic that cracks through the air and splits open to reveal Mors’ daughter.
Mareina.
Despite being a queen of both Atratus, and Avernus, she is, as per usual, dressed in a set of dark fighting leathers, armed to the teeth, and wearing a deep scowl as her wings flare wide behind her.
“What the fuck is he doing here?”
Persephone and Mors exchange a notably fearful look.
Odd.
A metallic song sings through the air as Mareina draws the sword strapped to her back from its sheath.
Oh, fuck.
Heaving a long-suffering sigh, I stand, momentarily willing away my mug.
Mors steps in front of Mareina, raising placating hands. “There’s no need for bloodshed. He merely wishes to?—”
As expected, Mareina remains undeterred.
She side steps him, glaring at me and directing the length of her sword at me.
“The only reason you aren’t rotting in my dungeon still is because of what you did for Ataraxus, but it was under the condition you never return.
And now you have the audacity to show up, in my domain, to exploit its fruits.
Did you use the last of your Mortsbane on me?
Whose memory are you looking to wipe now? ”
Guilt pierces me swift and merciless. “My own.”
Mareina’s steps falter. She lowers her sword, distrust and confusion twisting her features. “What?”
Persephone and Mors exchange yet another worried glance.
My intuition prickles, telling me there’s something I’m missing here, as Persephone clears her throat, looping her arm in Mors’, looking strangely nervous.
“He... wishes for a reprieve. Time to rest and rejuvenate his soul as those in Avernus do without the burden of... history."
Mareina stares at me blankly for a moment before she begins to chuckle. Her chuckle escalates, and she stakes the tip of her sword in the ground to lean on it and succumbs to full body laughter. Mors frowns at her, but remains silent.
Unfortunately, I deserve every ounce of Mareina’s ire and wrath. I’d have done far worse to the person who dared to commit the same transgressions I have against her and her soulbound.
She wipes tears from her eyes, as her laughter wanes and her tone grows serious. “You know... I can appreciate your desire to forget. There was once a time I contemplated doing the same; to liberate myself of the pain, guilt, and shame that follows you like a blood-thirsty shadow.”
She pauses for a moment, gaze flicking thoughtfully to her river before her verdant eyes return to mine, piercing.
“But, if you honestly think, short of ridding the realms of your existence, that I would allow you such a blessed reprieve from even a fragment of the suffering you have inflicted, then truly, your delusion knows no bounds. Go home, Azrael.”
Something inside me wilts and weakens at her words.
Words that I deserve.
I don’t have the energy to fight her.
Nor do I have the desire to harm her, or her loved ones.
My words are scarcely a whisper, but the desire in them is palpable.
“If only.”
Mareina stills. Her eyes flick to Mors and Persephone, and I see realization settle in her gaze. The moment she opens her mouth, Persephone raises a bleeding hand. “Mareina, please?—”
Mareina’s words, finally, are soft. “You truly wish to die?”
Mors curses, Persephone shakes her head. Tears welling.
Heart pounding with fear, regret, and hope in equal measure, my throat dips and I hesitate only briefly as my mind harkens images of Violette and Levi... followed by the mourning I will have to endure for the rest of eternity when they eventually die, many millenia from now. “Yes.”
Mors gives his daughter a pleading look. “Mareina, if ever?—”
“My mother can help you.”
Soteira.
Mors’ former chosen mate. The one he betrayed his own sister to marry.
I knew she was a goddess. A minor one, or so I thought. With no domain, her power was never acknowledged.
And yet, Mors eyes squeeze shut in defeat. Persephone curses, cradling her stomach as she looks up at me with tears in her eyes.
My breath is held as I teeter on the precipice of what I pray is salvation.
“I thought she disappeared?”
A corner of her mouth tilts upwards. “Keres found her, of course.”
Mors’ sister, goddess of violence, and Soteira’s soulbound.
“And how, exactly, might she be able to help me?”
Mareina studies me for a moment. “She has an exceedingly rare magic... Her power can sever the cord binding your soul to your body. Send it back to Akash. In other words, she can kill gods.”
I blink in shock.
So this is why no one knew of her magic. It wasn’t unacknowledged. It was hidden.
“You would take me to her?”
Even if she doesn’t, I would find her. Even if it meant facing Keres to get to her.
Mors shakes his head, not bothering to protest any longer. He already knows it’s too late.
Mareina hesitates. “What her magic does... It cannot be undone.”
“Would I still reincarnate?”
“It is not known. Your soul wouldn’t travel to an afterrealm to atone for your transgressions only to reincarnate in a physical realm. You would return to Akash.”
Persephone closes the distance between us, fisting my shirt, tears streaking down her face.. “Azrael... Don’t. There has to be another way. We can visit Tempus again, bargain with him to rewrite history. Something. Anything. Just, please, don’t do this.”
Glancing briefly at Mors, I see the same plea written in his expression.
Admittedly, I’m shocked they care so much.
Bittersweet emotions curl around my heart, squeezing tightly.
With the utmost care, my hand slides over hers where she holds me in place as though it could stop me from going with Mareina.
The backs of my eyes burn as, for the first time since I met her—the female that was once my soulbound—she allows me to see a fragment of the love that, until Violette, I so desperately wanted from her.
“Thank you.”
Persephone sniffles, brow knitting with confusion. “For what?”
“For caring.”
She makes a choked sound like a laugh cut off by a sob. “I’ve always cared, Azrael. I ran from you because I knew that I didn’t stand a chance against you.”
Cathartic tears stream down my cheeks as I lean down to press a kiss to the top of her head. “You’re going to have the most beautiful life, Persephone. A life that we both know wouldn’t have been possible with me.”
Persephone’s forehead thumps onto my chest, shoulders shaking as she quietly weeps. “I’m so sorry, Azrael.”
I stroke her hair, closing my eyes and savoring this final moment with her. “You have nothing to be sorry?—”
Before I can finish the words, my world tilts as, with a burst of shocking strength, Persephone shoves me before folding away.
I stumble backwards, directly into the soft silt of the river that goes splashing up around me.
Time and history bleed away as memory upon memory drain out of me like wine from a cask.
The sandy mud swallows my feet like quicksand, and I’m unable to catch myself.
The river’s water swallows me in one great gulp.
Sacred fuck, what is happening?
I flail, unsure of how to escape, but instinct directs my arms and legs to thrust myself upwards. My head breaches the surface of the glowing water as I gasp for breath.
A row of people stand some feet away from the shore, arguing, as the current begins to carry me away. A large male with giant wings curses, and in the next moment my body hits the grass beside the river with a thud, knocking the breath out of me, and the water clinging to me evaporates.
I roll over, wincing from the pain in my ribs at my sudden impact.
The male’s face hovers over mine. “Akash almighty, are you okay?”
I manage to wheeze a reply. “Oh, yes. I’m in ecstasy.”
The male’s lips twitch with amusement, and I’m fairly certain I see tears lining his eyes. He extends a hand to help me up, and I gratefully take it.
Standing, I look around at my surroundings and the females walking towards us.
Unease coils through me as I realize... I don’t recognize a fucking thing.
“Where am I?”
Who am I?
Though I don’t vocalize the question because... what a ridiculous thing to ask.
The females sidle beside the male, one of whom looks as though she’s been crying. The other wears an expression that I can only interpret as reluctant pity.
Ouch.
“Avernus.”
I wait for my mind to supply... something.
It doesn’t.
Instead, I feel as though I have a singular moth fluttering around in my skull, repeatedly smacking into a dimly lit lightbulb.
My stomach twists with anxiety.
Embarrassment heats my cheeks. “I... am afraid I can’t recall having arrived here.”
The female whose face is still puffy and splotchy is the first to reply. “You must have hit your head.”
Did I? I don’t feel anything.
I lift one hand to scrub across my impossibly empty head.
“Oh... I don’t feel any lumps or bruises.”
The heavily armed female smirks, muttering something I’m pretty sure is, “I can fix that.”
The male scowls at her. “Mareina.”