by Jada Fisher
“You ungrateful, insipid little wagtail!” he snapped, voice harsh and lethal. It made Eist’s stomach churn and that feeling only grew worse as he straddled her legs, pinning them with his own weight so she couldn’t kick, his hand wrapping around her throat once more.
She swung up at him, fingers ready to score a line down his face, but he caught her wrist and slammed that back into the ground too.
“I do everything I can for you. I feed you, I trust you, and this is how you repay me!? Why must you be so stubborn, Eist?”
On that last part, he leaned far enough forward that he didn’t see her other hand as it flew toward him, her fingers landing right in his eye.
He let out a curse and reared backwards, swearing up a storm. When he took his hand away, she could see that his eye was red and irritated, but not that badly damaged, so she tried again.
“Stop this!” he ordered, sounding unhinged.
All subtlety or hope of tricking him was out the window. Eist rose up, trying to snap at his face, but her teeth closed just a scant breath away from his nose. “I will never stop. As long as you’re here, in my world, trying to kill my people, I will fight you with every last breath I have!”
“Enough! Enough of that!”
“No! It will never be enough until you’re defeated!”
“I said stop!” Suddenly, he twisted the arm still in his grip, hard and sharp. A pop sounded between them, startling them both. The pain wasn’t instantaneous, rather filling her mind a breath later and swamping everything.
She let out her own uncertain cry, shocked by the intense bloom of pain, and Yacrist finally dropped her arm. When it landed, it rested at a very unnatural angle.
He had broken her arm.
He had broken her arm.
Eist wheezed, trying to steady her heart and stop her body from going into a panic, as was its natural inclination when she was hurt. Seemingly satisfied with how incapacitated she was, Yacrist leaned forward and cupped her face in both of his large hands. His grip was tight, inescapable, and she found herself staring up into his face as she whimpered and sweated.
By the Three, she hated making those sounds, but she couldn’t help herself. Her entire being felt swallowed by agony and new little throbs of it were issuing from her arm every few breaths. It was right up there with being shot by an arrow, but a deeper, pulsating kind of discomfort.
“Eist, I’ve always known that you’re stubborn, but why must you fight me? We were made for each other. Can’t you feel it?”
He had no right to sound so hurt, so wounded. It made something unhinge in Eist, and she tried to rise up to bite him again, but his grip around her face was iron.
“Stop saying that!” Her voice was near hysterical, cracking around words and infuriated sobs, but she couldn’t contain herself. Captivity was grating on every fiber of her being. She was meant to fight. To do something. Not to sit and rot under her enemy’s watch.
“Why? It’s true. I made you, Eist, all those years ago. And you, in turn, opened the door for me to unite with my vessel. We complete each other, we better each other, and I don’t understand how you can’t feel how much we are a part of each other.”
Eist was ready to throw herself into a full body struggle despite her arm, but something in his words caught on the frantic edge of her mind.
“What do you mean, you made me?”
He smiled so tenderly that it made her stomach roll. “I’m surprised you haven’t figured it out on your own. You’ve always been so smart, you know. Putting things together that I never would have.” His harsh grip on her face softened, his fingers stroking gently at her skin. But it brought no comfort to her, instead making her feeling even more nauseous and panicked and trapped.
“Exactly what I said, dear Eist. I made you. We’ve always been a part of each other.” He sat up, as if the situation was completely normal and she wasn’t sweating and breathing hard beneath him. “Your parents were always such a thorn in my side. They didn’t understand. They were so under the thrall of the three encroachers, so determined to ruin everything.
“I was arrogant, I see that now. I was sure that I finally had them. But in truth, they had me. I knew that I was going to be trapped, all caught up in that wicked little scheme of theirs, and that thought filled me with such a rage. I really cannot describe it.”
He smiled, as if he was reminiscing about a pleasant memory. “You know, before them, it always took whole armies to send me away. Witches and warlocks, sorcerers and the like. Hundreds of thousands of dragons and warriors just to beat me back into either your wilds or the in-between places to recover. But your parents? They found a way to hurt me all on their own.
“You can imagine what that did to my pride, so in that moment, I never wanted to hurt anyone as much as I did them. I wanted physical form so I could crush them in my own hand. I was powerless to stop them, of course, but that was maddening. All the power I’ve gained from all the worlds I’ve freed, and yet I couldn’t stop two little humans.
“But then, just before the end, when we were all going to slip away together, I sensed something. It was barely there, more of a glimmer than anything else, but I followed it. Little did I know, they were sending you a bit of their gift. Something they hoped might protect you when their plan fell through.”
He laughed, ever-so-lightly, and one of his hands curled in her hair, gently stroking. “Imagine my surprise when I found you. Just a little, tiny human. Their child. I can remember so clearly thinking that if they were going to dare to hurt me, then I was going to take away what would hurt them worse.”
Eist’s whole body went cold, even the pain in her arm dulling as she tried to comprehend what he was saying.
“Y-you’re saying that you…”
He nodded, looking down at her like he was telling a charming story of how they courted. “In the few moments I had left, I buried the tiniest, smallest flicker of myself inside all that magic they gave you. It was meant to fester there, to rot you from the inside out until you succumbed. I was…wrong for what I did, but I will be eternally grateful for the consequence of all that I did.”
No. No, no, no! He was lying. That couldn’t be true!
“It took root and I was able to watch from my prison as you burned. I didn’t expect for it to fill your own house, and soon it rooted in your grandfather as well. Soon, your vision was mine, your hearing was mine, and then I knew your breath would be next. I was pleased with the last little show I thought I would ever see.
“But then you did something incredible. You took that bit of me deep, deep into whatever it is that makes you…you, and you changed it. You began to recover. And then, one day, you snatched everything back and I was left alone in my prison once more.”
The whole world spun. He was what made her ill? He was the one who gave her the witch’s eye and took her hearing? That…That couldn’t be. It wasn’t right. She didn’t have a piece of him inside her soul!
“But I could still feel you. Growing up, becoming stronger. And the more you aged, the stronger our bond became, until you were the one constant in all my imprisonment.” He chuckled. “You know, I’ve lived through millennia of yours in the blink of an eye, but just seven years locked away from everything was pure torture. You were the only thing I could hold onto while I waited for my followers to free me.
“And that was when I realized that I had been wrong about certain details of my plan. That I couldn’t just free your people as some great and terrible beast that they didn’t comprehend. That I needed to be one of them, to feel and think and love as they did. I had no idea how I would do that, but then you spread that seed of darkness in you to this vessel and I suddenly understood.”
He leaned down again so that their faces were entirely too close, his breath washing over her face. “Don’t tell me that you don’t feel it, our connection running through you. It’s been there ever since you were young. In that moment, it changed all of you, took you from just the daughte
r of two upstarts all the way to one of the most powerful magic users alive.
“We were meant for each other, in every sense of the word. So please, Eist, let yourself see that. I know that you do.”
Eist wanted to curse him. She wanted to tell him exactly where he could stick that forced connection. She wanted to hurt him. But instead, only a sob escaped from her lips as tears rushed to her eyes.
“Why did you keep my hearing?” was all she could say instead.
He blinked at her, as if that was the last thing he had expected. “What?”
“You said I snatched it all back, but I didn’t. You kept it. Why? Why hold onto that piece of me?”
“Oh, my dear, sweet Eist.” He stroked her hair again, as if that would settle her. “I didn’t. You snatched that from me along with everything else. I don’t know why it didn’t return to you, but perhaps this was just always who you were meant to be. There’s a great and terrible beauty in all the struggles it’s brought you, isn’t there?”
She lashed out before she could think better of it, slapping him across the face.
“How dare you!” she screeched, tears coming in force. “How dare you sit there and try to tell me it was meant to be! That it made me stronger! I hate you!” The words didn’t feel strong enough, poisonous enough, but she couldn’t think of any others, so she just screamed them louder. “I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! You’re going to have to kill me because I will never stop trying to kill you.”
He sat back, looking disappointed and sorrowful, but that just made her burn hotter. She had been carrying around the Blight in her all along? Could that be true?
“I see that you’re upset. I’ll give you time to rest before I send a healer in.”
She snarled at him, trying to rise up and fight him, but the moment she put weight on her arm, she collapsed to the side. She let out a howl, feeling absolutely unhinged from all planning, strategy or composure. She was just raw ache and rage, eager to make someone hurt like she did.
Yacrist stood, his footsteps receding as he walked away from her. But once more, he stopped before he reached the door.
“It will be alright, Eist. The sooner you accept this, the sooner we can rescue your people. I really do mean it when I say I need you.”
“What you need is a sword through your chest,” she hissed, finally fighting to her knees. But Yacrist just shook his head and exited, leaving her alone with all of her rage and pain.
4
Rock Bottom
Things changed after Yacrist left, but Eist knew they would. He tried visiting her for a meal exactly once, but she launched herself at him with teeth bared. It wasn’t exactly a very effective attack, with her arm being bound up close to her torso as it was, so he easily caught her then tossed her to the ground without comment.
From then on, she was alone, with her food only being slid through the door and no more books provided. But she didn’t care. She poured her everything into exercising, keeping herself strong so that she would never feel weak again. She wasn’t going to let having only one functional arm slow her down. She only needed one hand for her shortsword, after all.
She still couldn’t connect with any of her magic, couldn’t feel anything that wasn’t immediately in front of her. She wondered if she was losing her mind, but she often ignored that sentiment in favor of another hour of pushing her body to its limits.
Eist had just finished a round of running the perimeter of her room for hours when the door flung open, hitting the wall with enough force to make her teeth rattle. The next thing she knew, there were chains flying toward her, surrounding her in a rush of that foreign inkiness. Before she could so much as pull back, manacles locked around her wrists, connecting to her neck in a tight bond.
She sputtered something, unintelligible after so much time spent in silence. Looking to the door, she saw Yacrist there, looking oh-so-satisfied.
She ran at him, her feet were free after all, and she could still find a way to kick him to death, but then her chains flashed onyx for a moment, and she was yanked down to the ground. Her injured arm protested violently, and it took all of her willpower not to vomit from the feeling.
“You need to behave yourself,” Yacrist said, crouching in front of her. “I have a treat for you.”
Eist craned her neck upwards, looking at his stupid, cocky face. Gathering saliva in her mouth, she spit right at his nose.
He stood up too fast for it to land, sadly, his foot lashing forward to catch her in the shoulder. It wasn’t nearly hard as it could have been, more of a warning tap, but it still did not feel good.
“Enough. Don’t you want to see your friends?”
That quieted the rageful storm inside her just enough for her to feel curious. “My friends?”
He nodded, reaching a hand down to help her up. “I’m sure they miss you. Don’t you want to see them?”
“This is a trick,” she said. He couldn’t have her friends. One, how would they know where to find them? Two, there was no way he would be able to capture them! They were in the academy, safe and sound and surrounded by warriors.
“Only one way to find out, yes?”
Eist stumbled to her feet, ignoring his offered hand, and strode out of the room. She could practically feel him smile behind her as he closed the door and followed along.
That only lasted until the end of the hall, however, then he switched to walking in front of her, leading the way. This time, they went in a completely different direction, walking down halls and up stairways until they ended up at different lifts.
Eist couldn’t help it when her eyes went wide, and fear rolled in her stomach. Her mind went back to that moment of falling, and being sure that she was dead, that the end of her story had come rolling in without warning.
“Don’t misbehave and you won’t have to worry about anything,” Yacrist said, seeming to sense her dread as he steered her into the contraption. He pulled it up much more quickly and easily than her, almost making her pride sting, but then she remembered that he was an impossibly old and powerful being from another realm and settled herself. She had enough to worry about beyond her ego.
They arrived at the top quickly, then continued up, up, up. It was the closest that she had been to aboveground in weeks, and yet she still had no idea how close she was to the actual outside.
Eventually, they exited into what could only be a throne room, a massive chair of metal and gems sitting on a dais, with a smaller but still beautiful one beside it. But Eist didn’t pay them any mind, her eyes locking onto three kneeling figures in front of the thrones. Her breath caught in her throat, but Yacrist’s long fingers just wrapped around the metal collar at her neck and pulled her around them.
“Eist!” she heard Dille call behind her and the mere sound of her friend’s voice made her want to sob. They were there. They were there! Not in her dreams or made up in her mind. They were right in the room with her!
Yacrist didn’t stop until they were on the dais and he pushed her into the chair. Eist surged forward to get right back on her feet, but he steadied her with a hand to her shoulder. “Control yourself, or I’ll take them away.”
His words burned against her, making her want to do the exact opposite of what he said, but she couldn’t risk it. She needed to see her friends. She had to. She forced herself to sit still, in the throne like some gross mimicry of his queen, and he finally moved to settle into his own throne.
Finally, finally, she was able to see her friends. They were battered, covered in soot and dirt and bruises, but they were alive!
…they were also captured.
Her blood froze within her at that thought. She had been so happy to see them that she hadn’t considered why they were there. She could feel herself go pale as she locked eyes with each of them, asking if they were okay.
“There, we’re all finally reunited. This is a cause to celebrate, isn’t it?”
Surprisingly, it was Athar who tried to surge up, his
face red. “You cad, what did you do to her!?” He didn’t even get a step forward, however, before the guards behind him set on him with their spears, hitting him over and over again with the wooden lengths.
“Athar!” Eist looked to Yacrist, seeing the malevolent glint in his eyes as he watched her friend be beaten with glee. “Stop it! Just stop it, right now!”
Yacrist turned to look at her, holding her gaze. She knew what he wanted her to see. That he was in control and he said what would or wouldn’t happen. He let that knowledge settle in before waving his hand.
“Enough. We still have so much left to talk about.”
Dille let out a long stream of curses and finally, Eist felt magic again. The room began to shift, its energies shifting, but then Yacrist just snapped his fingers and fabric ripped from the tunic of the guard behind her, wrapping around the witch’s mouth multiple times and silencing whatever spell she had been trying to cast between her epithets.
“This will all go better if you three could just settle down. I didn’t have to bring you here, you know.”
“Yes, your generosity knows no bounds,” Ain remarked idly, spitting out a bit of blood. Out of the three of them, he actually looked the worst, with one of his eyes nearly swollen closed and both of his lips split and puffy. “I’m certain it absolutely has nothing to do with your flare for drama and need to be the absolute center of all attention.”
To Eist’s surprise, Yacrist let out a laugh. “There’s our Ain. Still as prickly and tolerated as ever. At least you haven’t changed.”
“Well, you know what they say about old dogs.” The white-haired man’s eye flitted to Eist for a moment, but he didn’t hold her gaze for long. A look of guilt flashed across his features as if he felt bad for the condition that she was in. From where she was sitting, he definitely looked worse for wear.
Except…where she was sitting was a throne at the side of their enemy, arm bound in a splint against her chest and chains around both of her wrists, her ankle raw from the manacle that had been around her ankle for at least a month now. So yeah, maybe she did look to be in worse straits from his perspective.