Damned

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Damned Page 20

by K R Leikvoll


  “I am a part of something bigger than you will ever comprehend,” Vince taunted in a quiet, loving voice. “More deserving of your worship.”

  “There is only the Vast Dark,” I replied with a truly satisfied smile. My Gods had shown me something far greater than the bond’s hold on me. “The only thing you are a part of is madness and delusions. The good news is… it’s curable.”

  I stabbed him upward under his rib cage, watching him twist in agony. Not even the pain on his face caused me to feel anything. The shadows evaporated, dispersing into every direction. The pulsating room began to collapse in on itself, trapping me until I could not breathe. I did not fear suffocating. I did not fear being crushed as it wrapped around me so tightly my bones started to shatter.

  With a jolt, I blinked to find that I was still kneeling, staring up at Lord Baelarius. The other Void Lords were watching me with infinite curiosity. Had I killed Vince or been annihilated? The answer was no. The layers of reality are a nearly endless vortex in the Void. It is easy to forget which one is the truth.

  “She is the prophet foreseen,” said the deepest, piercing voice I had ever heard. There was a hint of growling and crackling noises in the air when it spoke.

  “We will see if Lord Nakarius’ wrath can defeat Azotl’s incarnate,” Lord Valorius said with a strange clicking I took to be laughter. “I look forward to taking your place in Violence.”

  “You doubt the prophecies of Lord Baelarius?” Lord Nakarius asked with not a hint of irritation for Lord Valorius’ words.

  “This being is puny and unproven. Only grand sacrifices could bring her close enough to invoke you,” Lord Valorius replied. “If Azotl’s incarnate succeeds in his goal, you will be responsible for the collapse of the Void.”

  “The Nephilim can be just as valuable to us as it is to them. You have narrowed your mind, Lord Valorius,” Lord Azmordius interjected. “Wrath is the easiest way to break their light. Lord Nakarius and the prophet will crush all that oppose us. We will corrupt Vincent’s champion and remove them both. None will be left to stand in the way of the Vast Dark.”

  “Lazarus Lyon has been chosen as the manifestation of Violence and Wrath. That is infinite,” the deep voices whispered on all sides, causing the other three Void Lords to silence themselves immediately.

  At the time, I was unsure of what they were discussing. I did not understand what being the prophet meant. I did not know what it meant to be the incarnate of Lord Nakarius for the purpose of destroying Praetis, nor did I have a method of how I could complete such an impossibly large task. It did not matter in the slightest. I would, whether I thought I was capable or not. All in the name of the Void.

  “Will you kill for our God Azotl?” the whispers continued, chilling me to the point of numbness. It was the all-encompassing sensation of the Vast Dark, beautifully tempting.

  “Forever,” I replied to the eye of Lord Baelarius.

  Everything disappeared at once into shadows, as if we had never left the darkness of Treachery. Our only guide back to Fraud was the glimmer of the flame filled vortex a million leagues away. It gave me endless time to ponder what I had seen and done – what I was expected to do. The newfound truth in all things was enough to allow me to embrace what I had feared for so long. Everything I endured was for a purpose – lessons that would teach me audaciousness and undying allegiance.

  When we passed through the doorway separating Fraud from Treachery, the magnetism that bound me to my Master came flooding back. It was as if I had not seen him in eons. I missed him horribly, despite that he was upset with me for reasons I did not understand at the time. James and Raven were consoling him softly while he fumed, resting on a rock. Sendrys and Guinevere were on their feet as soon as we came into view.

  Lord Nakarius set me down from his palm at the base of the staircase. My malevolent Gods stared at my family with clear distaste. I could tell Vince’s sisters were loyal based on how distraught they were to fall out of the Void Lords’ favor. My Master stood up at his own leisure, likely out of disrespect to them. His gaze met mine; his fury could be felt in the air around us. I believe he knew what the Void Lords would say without needing to state it. Vincent has never done well without having total control over every situation.

  “The coven Lilith has raised has done nothing to sustain our goal,” Lord Valorius said, tentacles whipping around the thick space.

  “Lord Baelarius has chosen Lazarus to corrupt Praetis. Those that aid her will not be subjected to the realm of Treachery,” Lord Nakarius stated, glaring at each one of my family members.

  “The will of the Void speaks through her. We have no desire to exchange words with your coven until you complete your task. There is a traitor in your midst, so you are all traitors. Prove yourselves or suffer the consequences for eternity,” Lord Azmordius threatened.

  The beings began to disperse. Guinevere and Sendrys cried out for Lord Azmordius, but she ignored them as she pledged to do. Even the twins were in disarray about the favor they were losing. My brothers were in shock… but Vince – he looked like he was not surprised at all.

  The shadows enveloped the land, causing the ground to quake and crack. My surroundings were turning to ashes, though nobody seemed to care. I felt intense tugging on my soul. Something was trying to pull me back. I surrendered to the sensations, allowing it to free me from the eight layers of the Void I was entrapped in. Perhaps if I knew what awaited me on the other side, I would have stayed.

  Loud shouting caused me to stir from my oblivion. I was being held and tended to by James and Raven, in the far corner of the ritual chambers. Far enough away that I would not be caught in a flurry of fists and claws that had erupted near the sigil.

  Vince and Sendrys were brawling it out, sparing in no attack. For a moment, I almost thought they intended to fight to the death. Sendrys had succeeded in leaving several large wounds into my Master’s chest, but after a poorly thought move, Vince had wrapped his arms around her neck in an unbreakable hold. He could have snapped her head clean off of her body – that did not stop her violent thrashing and cursing.

  “Stop it right now, Vincent! You owe us an explanation!” Guinevere yelled as she paced around them, unable to get involved herself. My Master’s eyes glowed with bloodlust, but he released his sister and threw her to the ground. Sendrys choked and sputtered, crawling to her feet with the twins’ assistance.

  “I owe you nothing,” my Master hissed back at Guinevere, causing her to flinch away as if she might be struck.

  “What have you done?” Sendrys’ voice cracked as her hands clawed at Vince’s clothing. “You wine-sick, vain masochist, what treason have you committed?”

  “If you do not owe us an explanation, you at least owe one to Mother. How could you strip her of her right to worship Lord Azmordius?” Guinevere pleaded to know. Her tone was full of her desperation for answers, echoing in the chambers.

  My Master looked at every single one of us, contemplating if he wanted to answer. If it was only his sisters he was faced with, perhaps he would have lied or simply left without another word. But it was not just them. It was the entire demonic coven, save a few. Vince may have been formidable, but I believe fighting seven beings at once was too much effort to be exerted. He ripped himself from Sendrys’ grasp with a glare.

  “They were pushing further into my mind. I merely sought to lock them out so I had peace and quiet for my research,” my Master said as if it were the entire truth. “I did it for your benefits. Let us deal with the conflicts here without their meddling. It will not matter in the end when they get the results they seek.”

  “Results?” Sendrys replied, aghast. “How can you still keep seeking the Nephilim, even now that we have been threatened with Treachery? There is no such thing. We are out of time. You can do your childish side projects on the next planet.”

  “I was given one purpose and that was to procure a weapon of the light and dark. Praetis is the only location that offers any sort
of hope in achieving that goal,” Vince argued. “If the Void Lords demand that we must follow Lazarus… well – “

  Everyone stared at me, including my Master. He reached out his bloodied hand toward me with a layer of adoration that seeped through the air itself. I was compelled by the bond to cross the room to kneel in front of him. I knew my truths, and despite what I had seen, the bond was still one of them.

  “Lazarus follows me. Isn’t that right, my beloved Queen?” he asked, guiding me to my feet. His smoldering stares of affection were all false, but I still believed them. I kissed his neck. The prophet obeys the will of the Void, but I still loved Vincent terribly, no matter how harshly the darkness had been forced on me. “And if your Queen – the prophet of Naazvaba – follows me, I think that means you all must as well. Would anyone like to argue and spend an eternity in Treachery? I’m sure the prophet would be happy to fulfill her King’s wishes.”

  Vince knew the actuality of his situation, which is precisely why he worked to immediately manipulate our coven into paranoia. In reality, I could have ordered every demon in the room to murder him and they would have done so to avoid the realm of Lord Baelarius at the snap of my fingers. I did not know that, but Vincent did. It was in his best interests to leave us divided and unsure of whether or not he worked for Azotl’s goals. The biggest benefit he had was the infancy of our bond.

  There is hardly a force in existence stronger than a blood bond with whoever performed the Dark Sacrament on you. The Void may have been able to smother such a thing, but in my first hours as a demon, I hardly had that sort of control. I believe that is why the Void Lords had chosen to test me in the harshest manner – to see if I would be capable of breaking past it in the right circumstances. And I would be, but not for some time.

  Instead, I stood there, clinging to my Master’s side like more of a child than a grown woman. All I desired was his presence. He took me into his arms and held me close like I was a precious object that needed the protection, not him.

  “You have all done plenty to ruin my poor beloved’s ritual. It would do you heathens well to remember who it was that ensured your survival,” Vince snapped at everyone as he stroked my hair. “James… Raven… let us return to my quarters. I have no desire to look upon these wretches any longer.”

  James and Raven were probably left feeling like they were in a precarious position. While they both knew as well as the rest of us that Vince had clearly fallen out of favor with Naazvaba, they could not openly support his sisters with their rage. There was far too much time we still had to endure at our King’s side; it was better for them to silently follow us out, as loyal as well-trained mutts.

  Nobody said a single word during the time I was tended to. They had removed the suffocating robes of Lilith and ran me a bath, spending the time to help wash the various body fluids from my flesh. I was startled, for beneath the blood stains my skin was no longer tanned brown. It was dark gray like lunar shadows. A black, triangular spell seal was on my lower stomach. It was a place I was thankful I could conceal. Despite the unrest it may have caused Nyzara, as Lazarus I felt nothing.

  James helped untangle my mass of hair while my Master drank in front of the fire, lost in his thoughts. When Raven returned with food, I expected I would feel starved. I brought fruit to my lips and there was naught a trace of hunger or desire. A few bites left me unsatisfied, as it hardly tasted of anything at all. I was more consumed by the stinging pain of my teeth that had been regrown.

  Vince got up abruptly, claimed to be grabbing more wine and disappeared in a cloud of shadows. It was only a bit of the truth, but we were all in too much various forms of shock to care. I was in the state of being reborn, experiencing new smells, colors and sounds. James was likely worrying about Treachery and whether or not Vince had gotten us too deeply involved. Raven was obviously irritated with our Master too, but those recent discoveries were always his long sinking suspicions.

  “You must be strong for the fourth day,” Raven whispered, handing me his wrist. Before my curiosity rose, I pierced his flesh to accept his offering. Unlike the food, it was sweet and bitter how the fruit should have been. It was pleasant and not overwhelming like other times before. In that moment, all I was capable of understanding was the warmth and love I had for my demonic family. They noticed my drowsiness and tucked me into Vince’s bed. His absence seemed as though it might be permanent.

  “What happens tomorrow?” I asked, holding their heads to my frozen chest. Their presences were soothing the steadily growing anxieties building in the back of my mind. I could not imagine enduring anything worse than what I had been through the previous three days. As far as I knew, the Dark Sacrament only contained three days, so how would the fourth day compare?

  “Speaking of the fourth day defeats the element of surprise,” James interrupted before Raven could respond.

  “That tradition ends now. I would not see our Queen subjected to madness without warning,” he replied sharply. His lips brushed my ribs, close to where he had taken a chunk out of me for the first time.

  “Madness?” I whispered to myself, though I could not feel bothered to fear the more I pondered. There was nothing worse than being in the insanity of the realm of Treachery.

  “It is not a day of sacrifice, Lazarus. It is your first lesson on demonic power. Try not to think about it too much,” James explained.

  “That’s how you get through every situation… not thinking about it,” Raven grumbled, rolling his eyes and burying his face into my skin.

  I was utterly fatigued from my rituals and needing rest. The warmth of the fire in comparison to the chill of the Void was so vast, I nearly wanted to crawl into it to experience it completely. I was dozing off, running my fingertips through Raven’s hair and listening to James’ even breathing. I almost did not hear Vincent return many hours later, disheveled and smelling of Ophelia. He made his way between James and I, pulling me from them and into his arms. They did not stir, simply rolling over and muttering to themselves. The trip to the Void was always an exhausting one.

  I was too tired to do much but accept his lips and touches. They were likely done out of his drunken stupor and fear of facing his own mortality. He tasted like blood, though I was not sure whose it was. I was willing to allow him to consummate our bond, which he wished to do. It was not filled with passion or love, only his unspoken uncertainties of his future. For a mere second, I thought he may have shuddered under some conclusion he came to while he moved against me in silence, but it was too discreet to tell.

  “If you truly love me, and this world, you will do as I say. Is that clear?”

  “Always.”

  Lies no longer caused me grief.

  I woke in my Master’s arms with no one else around. He had not slept, nor stopped drinking. It was apparent by his glassy eyes and wine-soaked lips. There was something about seeing him intoxicated that worried me, even before I had grown to know him better. The tightness of his hold was like I was being held hostage against my will, not his lover.

  “I almost thought you were going to sleep all day,” Vince said with a mildly disgruntled tone. I had not slept near as long as he liked to exaggerate, though any time he did not rest, he did not want anyone else to rest either. “Let’s go. I have other things to attend to today.”

  I was granted permission to leave by his shoves, making my way to my room to find clothing. I had nearly forgotten Varnoc existed in the short hours after my rebirth. He was surprised to see me – especially immodest, but I did not even look in his direction. Instead, I was captivated by the woman staring back at me in the mirror.

  My eyes were no longer their normal blue and silver. They were as red as Vince’s, stripping away one of the only features I favored. The dark gray of my skin was so unfamiliar, I had to touch my cheeks to make sure it was indeed myself that I was seeing. I looked like no Evyan that had ever come to exist; one that reminded me of shadows and the night. It was something I found to be beau
tiful. While I may have been bound to Vincent for the time being, I knew my appearance was a mark of my evolution and the step toward breaking free.

  Colors appeared more peculiar than I recalled. The intensity of brighter shades gave me a headache. Dark blues, reds and black were safe choices. I understood the desire to have the palace largely deep colors. If I were near white, I felt it might blind me. I put on something comfortable as I assumed I would be training and I hardly wished to do so in my good clothes.

  James and Raven were both going about their normal tasks, crossing paths with me accidentally. I was not worried until they both encouraged me to be strong. I would have stayed a moment longer to ask for advice, but my Master’s presence joined us. He did not need to tell me to follow. I simply trailed behind him a bit more anxious than I was when I woke.

  Vince led me to a spacious hall that was supposed to be a second library, but he had long sold his possessions for more knowledge. It was close to barren and dusty, like it hadn’t had a visitor in quite some time. The torches were lit with a wave of Vince’s hand. My new eyes were not bothered by the darkness; I could see just as clearly as during the daytime. I thought he was inebriated to the point of blindness, though he kept his composure.

  “Demonic power… what do you know?” he asked, leaning against a metal crate in the center of the room. I scanned our surroundings once more before I felt at ease to join him. I was worried about the possibility of more foes and trials.

  “It is the source that gives demons access to their connection to the Void,” I recited, remembering one of the many scrolls that mentioned it. He smiled, though it was hardly friendly. My hands were taken from my sides and pointed toward the vaulted ceiling. He replicated the motion, causing objects to fly on their own, summoning fire and shadows.

  “Draw on your connection to the Void then, beloved,” Vince whispered in a harsh and sarcastic tone that resembled fake fondness. He was too drunk to hide how he truly felt, but I remained unfearful.

 

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