The Allseer Trilogy

by Kaitlyn Rouhier

  Peace was a sickness spreading through his head, suffocating his ability to care, his ability to feel anything at all. He stopped walking, stared up into the glittering void, and let it claim what remained of his panicked mind.

  CHAPTER 35

  It was never meant to be like this.

  Kirheen was distantly aware of her battered and broken body, the pain and the heat as bones righted themselves, the process painstakingly slow. She was aware of her blood in the sand, life draining away even as she struggled to live. Golden orbs of light flooded her vision, their gentle warmth drowning out the pain and discomfort as her body fought to heal itself.

  A voice rang out in her head, that same chorus of voices she’d been hearing. It was clearer now, a sharp command for her attention. Her name was called through the dark and when she squeezed her eyes shut and retreated into her mind, she found herself in an unfamiliar world not of her own creation.

  It took time to comprehend the beauty around her, the golden floor shimmering with veins of light, vast pillars thick as trees forming a circle around her. Far above, stars shone against a shimmering field of creamy yellows and pearlescent white, glimmering stardust falling from above and floating through the air, twinkling in and out of existence.

  A woman stood near the edge of the circle, too radiant and beautiful to be real. Hair of the palest blonde cascaded over her shoulders, a waterfall of light and color. A white and gold dress covered her statuesque body, the billowing fabric floating around her as if it were alive. Where eyes should have been were two pools of melted gold, glowing like fire.

  Kirheen was lost in her beauty, her soul humming as she met her mesmerizing gaze. Her crystals flared to life, glowing with warm golden light. There was only one being that could be filled with such power, such wisdom, and as her name dripped off her tongue, everything seemed to snap into place, the last piece of a puzzle that had been missing for far too long.

  “Riel…”

  There was nothing else she could think to say, no words that could ever bridge the gap between a mere mortal and a goddess. She stood dumbstruck, lost in golden eyes, drowning in the vast sea of power radiating from her.

  “I failed you,” Riel said, a thousand voices melting into one, a voice of power and authority laced with a sadness built over the ages. “The cycle has started, and I have failed to prevent it. Again.”

  Kirheen forced herself to speak. “What cycle? What do you mean you failed?”

  “It would be easier to show you.” Riel raised a hand and Kirheen felt the air change, raw energy swirling to life. Stardust shifted, cascading from the heavens, changing color and shape until she was standing in the glowing forests of Sanctuary. A group of weary travelers huddled around a fire, too exhausted to speak. They blinked out of existence, one by one, until a single man remained. His face was long and lean, his brows untamed, eyes wild. “He was the first I tried to influence, gifted visions that were meant to spur him to action. He saw the coming darkness of the void, the will of Zekar, but his mind was too simple. He misinterpreted the threat. Fear and paranoia drove him out of a city I meant for him to change, and he formed a secret world of his own, intent on raising a powerful army to one day drive back the darkness, to strike down the royal family, never knowing that he’d be too late, that his inaction would lead to this devastation.”

  Kirheen stared at the man that had founded Sanctuary, the man that had created a lie, that had trapped them in a prison of glowing trees. Anger simmered to life, eating away at her awestruck silence. Riel had caused that madness, had caused the creation of Sanctuary, however unintentional it might have been. All those years trapped in that forest, thinking that was all that existed. “Why didn’t you stop it? You could have done something. You could have saved us from that life, and you did nothing.”

  Golden eyes flickered, dimmed, dulled by despair. “You’ve every right to be angry, to feel abandoned. To act was to reveal the flaws of this world, to draw the attention of Zekar, and if he saw what had become of this world, he would have wiped it clean.” Her fingers moved and the conjured image of Sanctuary burst back into specks of light, reforming into a large orb that rotated slowly. “This is your world, a world I have spent ages trying to protect. It is but one of many, but it was the first, and it has always been dear to me. You were all meant to have the gift, but something went wrong. Something changed, and over time, those without powers came to be. Zekar wanted to destroy this world, to build a new one in its place, a better one, but I could not see this world come to harm. He would not relent, but he finally settled on giving this world the means to keep balance. His will slept beneath the earth, ready to rise and consume those he deemed a disgusting miscalculation. A flaw.”

  Delicate fingers traced across the globe, a trail of light following where she touched. Kirheen watched the light dancing before her eyes, trying to comprehend the words of a goddess, to understand the sheer scope of the events that had brought her to where she now stood.

  “I have felt everything,” Riel wept, hands balling into fists at her side. “And all I could do was nudge, and push, and apply pressure hoping you could save yourselves before the will of Zekar destroyed those without powers once again, my children, flawed as they are. But it wasn’t enough. It was never enough. I awoke Samira, courageous and bold. She’d witnessed the worst of her own people, had every reason to act. I gifted her with so much more than mere visions, and she fled, hiding herself away instead of using the gifts I gave her. And I dared not push more, dared not draw the wrath of my beloved, and the world continued to fall more and more out of balance.”

  Across the globe, darkness blossomed, streaking like veins over the surface. Another twirl of her hand and the globe exploded, sparks of light bursting outwards. They reshaped and Kirheen was standing before Elfrind, just as she’d found him, bound and skeletal, kept between the borders of life and death and never allowed peace. “Did you create him?” Kirheen asked, her heart thumping as she looked upon his sleeping form. “Was that also you?”

  Riel shook her head, her eyes blazing with fury as she looked upon Elfrind. “No. There is always one that hears his call, a harbinger that wields his will. Elfrind was such a being, his power gifted to him by Zekar. You were the next to awaken, a girl caught between two worlds, with the tenacity and strength to wield the powers you were gifted. I thought there was more time. I thought you could unite them, to use your gifts to bring an end to all of this before the will of Zekar found a foothold in this world. I was a fool.”

  Riel clenched her fist and the image of Elfrind exploded, shimmering light swirling in chaotic flurries. The light reformed, the city of Val’shar stretching out in the space between them. Corruption covered the streets, the buildings, bled into the surrounding ocean. Kirheen took a step closer to the image, unable to comprehend what she was seeing. “This is what will happen to Val’shar if we don’t stop this.”

  Riel’s expression was pained as she looked to Kirheen. “It is already happening. And it will only get worse.”

  “No,” Kirheen breathed. “No, that’s not possible. My friends…”

  “Are nothing against the will of Zekar.”

  Kirheen turned towards Riel, her heart beating wildly, hands clenched tightly against her thighs. “Then stop it!” Kirheen demanded, throwing the words at Riel like a stone. “Put a stop to him. Do something! Do anything.”

  “I can’t,” Riel said softly, her eyes closing. “There is nothing I can do.”

  The image shifted, a splotch like spilled ink appearing in the sky over the castle. Elfrind bled into the world, dripping out of the darkness, hovering in the air. As he raised his arms, the corruption in the city began to rise, floating towards him.

  “You created this world, Riel!” Kirheen yelled, trembling with anger, with fear as she watched the Darkness gathering beneath Elfrind. “You can stop this! Just do something, anything!”

  Riel walked forward, scattering the image of Val’shar, of Elfri
nd, the stardust sticking to her skin, her hair, the fabric of her dress. Her golden eyes looked down on Kirheen, and she raised a hand to caress her cheek. Kirheen slapped her hand away, her anger overwhelming her senses, making her reckless even with the very goddess that had granted her such power standing before her.

  “You do not know what you ask,” Riel warned, her hand hovering in the air.

  “I know exactly what I ask,” Kirheen corrected. “You would let this happen again. You’d let Zekar destroy this world again. My friends are in that city, people that were caught up in this conflict that you created, this world that you made. They are going to be wiped out of existence because you failed to act, because you refused to stand against Zekar. How many times have you let this happen? How many times have you watched this world drown?”

  Riel wept, golden tears sliding down her cheeks. “So many times. Too many.”

  Kirheen shook, grief tearing at her soul, feeding her anger, her rage at the goddess that had brought so much pain and suffering to so many. “Get me into that city, Riel. Get me to Val’shar so I can end this. If everything must end, let it be for the last time, but I refuse to go down without a fight. I refuse to waste this power if there is even a chance I might save this world, that I might save my friends.”

  “If I do as you ask, it will not be just Elfrind you face.”

  The threat did nothing but strengthen her resolve. “Zekar be damned. Let him come.”

  “Then I’ll stand with you, child. To Val’shar. To the city of stars.”

  Riel exploded in a plume of light, her dress reshaping and reforming into golden armor, soft fabric giving way to hardened scales, her hair weaving into a thick braid. Starlight coalesced, aligning and hardening into a glowing golden spear, and she slammed it against the ground, sending out a shockwave of energy. Her power echoed off the pillars, and Kirheen’s crystals flared, bursting with golden light.

  As Kirheen opened her eyes to reality, she could feel the warmth of that light carry through her, revitalizing her broken body, her wounded soul, the devastated barriers of her mind. The ground turned into a golden pool and she began to fall through a place of light and beauty, stepping between worlds. There was a feeling of floating, a blinding flash, and when it dissipated, she stood in the streets of Val’shar, the goddess Riel at her side, ready for battle.

  CHAPTER 36

  Samira had known pain, had thought she’d felt the worst of it when she’d been captured and experimented on before she’d fled Korinth. As she lay in the sand, bleeding from a hundred wounds, her power healing her slower than it ever had, she discovered that hadn’t been the worst of it, not even close. We failed, she thought, her tears dripping into the sand.

  The physical pain was tremendous, her left side shredded beyond recognition. She’d healed from terrible wounds; broken bones, severed limbs, burns, poisons, a blade through the heart. None of it compared to what she now felt. The corruption had done something to her, had sapped her of enough strength that healing had slowed. Her body radiated heat, bones knitting from the inside out, ever so slowly mending the hurt with a raging tempest of fire. Her limbs tingled, itched, a thousand invisible insects crawling beneath her skin.

  And adding salt to those gaping wounds was the realization that the world would soon end, that she’d failed, that Elfrind had gotten away. He’d have his vengeance, his sickness made a reality, and the world would drown in corruption, wiping out more people than she could even imagine. Years of regrets erupted to the surface of her mind, burying her in grief. If she’d acted sooner, if she hadn’t been so selfish, if she hadn’t fled to Sharmir, perhaps she could have stopped such madness before it had even begun.

  But it was too late for that.

  It was always too late.

  Voices drifted down to her from above, but she was too lost in the pain and the grief to hear them. A small pair of hands wrapped around her arm, cold as ice, and she felt energy leak into her body, lending strength to her failing power, bolstering her ability to heal.

  “We’ll help you,” a voice said, soft and calming. “Rest.”

  “No,” she managed to whisper, pulling away from the grasp of Keha’ro, a blurred shape seen through tear filled eyes. She didn’t deserve his help, didn’t deserve to be free of such pain. She needed to feel it all, to feel each and every hurt inflicted on the world when the corruption came washing over them all.

  Those small hands held firm, grasping her tighter, and he wept with her, tears pelting her skin like rain. Samira tilted her head and looked to the broken pillar, to the crumpled body buried beneath it. Tomias was knelt next to Kirheen, his hands clasped tightly around hers. He was expressionless, staring at her battered body, the ashen hair cascading over the rubble, his eyes brimming with tears. Cracks formed along that shocked mask, and when her name left his lips, it shattered. She could taste his suffering, so tangible as he said her name again, and again, and again, the word broken only by his sobs.

  As Mirin approached Kirheen’s body, her legs quivered, knees buckling and dropping her to the sand. She struggled to maintain her composure, to fight away the demons of her past, but it was too much. Scarred hands rose to cover her grief, a mask to replace the one she’d lost.

  Samira closed her eyes. Their sorrow was such a small piece of what was to come, of the pain and suffering that would be felt when half the world ceased to exist. How would they move forward knowing what had happened, what they’d failed to stop?

  A strange light drew her attention, filtering through her closed eyelids. Her eyes fluttered open and she watched as golden strands of light began to rise from the dark sand, gathering into orbs that hovered several feet off the ground. A gentle, soothing heat coated her skin, filled every hurt, driving away the pain. She hardly noticed the feeling of sinking, of falling, until it was too late.

  Garild was lost in a sea of tranquility, his consciousness floating in an unending darkness, drifting among the stars. He’d long since given up on struggling. The more he fought, the deeper into that abyss he was forced to go. Somewhere in his mind, he knew what was happening beyond that realm, but it was fragmented, slivers of a dream that slipped out of his grasp any time he reached for them.

  And so, he let himself drift, let himself be claimed by that overwhelming feeling of peace. Perhaps he’d float there forever, trapped while the rest of the world crumbled to ash. Time passed slowly, until even that became a distant memory, a foreign concept that no longer seemed to matter.

  Far off, something rumbled, a ripple of energy buffeting his floating form, waking him from a dream. In that sea of stars, something was cutting through the gloom, a stream of golden light. It sliced through the tethers holding him, the tethers that kept him from feeling, from thinking. Grief flooded his mind, the memories of the outside world reforming until he could remember the horror, the city of Val’shar dripping with corruption.

  He stumbled into reality, limbs shaking and mind reeling as he settled back into his body, into the reality he’d left behind. All around him, the street shimmered, coated in a golden glow that kept the Darkness at bay. Holding his hand aloft, he looked at his skin, amazed by the shifting golden light that covered him from head to toe. The scholar in him wanted answers, but there was something else he needed to do, a person he desperately needed to find.

  He struggled to his feet, muscles trembling. High above the castle, Elfrind still floated, the corruption making strange patterns in the air around him. Garild didn’t think he’d notice one person running through the streets, not with that golden light forcing back the Darkness. He took off at a run, bolting towards the castle, weaving in and out of alleyways.

  When he encountered a place the golden light had not touched, he slowed to a stop, afraid if he stepped into the Darkness again, he might not make it back out. He took a tentative step forward, then another. The corruption squirmed away, seemingly repelled by the light coating his skin. With that blanket of safety, he rushed forward, running as
fast as he could until he’d reached the castle. A loud crack echoed through the city, and Garild turned just in time to see a beam of energy slam into Elfrind, sending him plummeting towards the ground.

  Garild wanted to watch, to see what had struck him with such ferocity. Had Kirheen returned? What he was seeing didn’t make sense. There were so many questions, but his friends were in the castle, a castle that had been overrun with the corruption. If their barrier had fallen…

  He ran down familiar corridors, each hallway coated in shimmering darkness, but it could not stop him. When he entered the throne room, he froze, grief striking him hard, a hammer crashing down on his heart. No longer was the room bathed in icy blue light. The barrier had fallen. Those remaining lay on the ground, the corruption slithering over their bodies, their minds floating in that far away realm of stars and darkness.

  The Darkness withered as he approached the first body. Burk lay on his side, his eyes open but empty, his face a still lake, undisturbed and tranquil. Garild reached out towards him, flinching as the light coating his skin flared. It spread outwards, covering Burk in the same light, forcing out the corruption that had held him captive.

  Friend to friend Garild moved, sharing the light and coaxing them back to reality. The last person he woke was Isa. She lay in a pool of corruption, her face so peaceful. Garild knew the pain she’d feel when she woke, knew that the first memory that would form would be that of the barrier falling, of the screams as it washed over those they’d failed to protect.

  He reached down and touched her face, the light bleeding from his skin to hers, basking her in radiant energy. As the corruption moved away, her eyes fluttered open, glowing bright. She gasped, sat upright, and frantically looked around the room. “The barrier! Garild, the barrier…”

  Pulling her closer, he held her tight, even as her sobs shook them both. “Isa, I know. I know. I’m so sorry.”