Damned

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Damned Page 42

by K R Leikvoll


  I bit into his disgusting flesh as hard as I could, making him wail louder. I only had to move against him for a few short, awful moments before the lines of crimson light appeared to weave our souls together. His whining temporarily ceased with the shared pleasure we both (regrettably) felt when our bond was solidified.

  “Oh, Queen Lazarus, I didn’t know –” he moaned until I covered his mouth. I hated his voice. I did not want the ceremony to be about his pleasure, and I needed to punish him for his forceful hands. I grabbed him by his injured arm and flipped him onto his stomach, much to his confusion.

  “Why don’t you show the worm how we welcome people into our coven?” I whispered to Varnoc. He looked absolutely disgusted at the idea, but I am positive he saw the anguish in my eyes I wished to be relieved from. I needed some sort of revenge or I would feel dirty forever.

  Varnoc did as I requested and welcomed our new family in the usual manner to seal their bond: aggressive non-consensual sex. I would not say Varnoc enjoyed it as much as I did, but it was precisely what I wanted. Watching Lydris squirm and cry out for it to end was the most pleasurable thing I experienced during our Dark Sacrament.

  My horrid emotions were starting to seem familiar.

  Vince had done similar things to me.

  The final day, my Master was present as he was with Varnoc. He wanted to make sure I was going through with my orders. He had been in the worst mood of his life as he prepared to leave for Earth. The last part of my ritual was all he needed to attend to before he was free to depart.

  He was dressed lavishly, donning the best clothing in his wardrobe. It was deep purple and light silver, outside of his normal color choices for summer. Whatever energy he was forced to build in order to travel between realms was practically seeping off of him like shadowy flames. It was not a day I would want to try his temper – I believe he would have killed me somehow, someway if I did.

  I prayed silent pleas to Naazvaba and Azotl before I cut my wrist to give Lydris my blessing. I knew that it was going to pull on me to do that unspeakable act and I needed time to prepare myself mentally.

  “Well?” my Master snapped. “Get on with it!”

  The worm was acting somewhat subordinate – deceitfully so. I glanced nervously at Varnoc by my side, and he gave me a reassuring, sad nod.

  “With this sacrifice –” I paused and took a deep breath, “I bind your soul to the Vast Dark.”

  Lydris eagerly bit into my wrist, though it was unnecessary. It made me want to behead him by pulling at his nappy hair. He let out gurgling moans until I could no longer stand it. I pried him from my flesh and clamped down on his shoulder. I hated how much I enjoyed it – despising someone had never been enough to avoid the magic of the Void.

  I released him and stood to get myself wine. I wanted to be intoxicated and forget about all of it as much as possible, but Vincent stopped me in my tracks, raising a hand for me to be still. His pupils were dilated and he could not stop the adoring stare he gave me momentarily before shaking himself out of it.

  “Did it work?” Lydris asked us, studying his hands with newly formed crimson eyes. Only, he was not speaking to all of us. He looked up at Vince with an excited smile.

  Vince pricked his thumb with his teeth to my confusion. He helped Lydris up and cradled him, offering him his fingertip. I cautiously backed away from them. Something was happening. I looked fearfully to Varnoc and back to the situation unfolding before me.

  Lydris drank from my Master and closed his eyes. “I see…you with my father – in A’roha. He’s reading… poetry.” He finished his sentence with a tone of disgust. Vince did not seem to care, but it caused my heart to slam against my rib cage in anxiety. He was viewing events through my Master’s blood.

  Before I could properly understand the implications of Lydris’ newly gained powers, Vince grabbed Varnoc and held him against his will. I cursed and rushed to their side, worried that Vince intended to kill him, realizing he was attempting to read his mind too late. Lydris grabbed Varnoc’s arm and bit into his wrist while I yelled at Vince to release him. Varnoc fought against both of them viciously, as did I. I managed to rip Lydris off of him and pull him from my Master’s grasp, but it mattered little. I had moved too slowly based on the sheer quantity of black blood staining my other child’s face. The worm wiped some of the residual wetness from his cheeks and tasted it with a pleased sigh.

  “Are you alright?” I asked worriedly to Varnoc. I could feel his fear on top of my own mounting dread. He looked down at the deep wound on his forearm and grimaced as it healed. He did not have time to answer before Lydris let out a loud, sinister cackle.

  “What do you see?” Vince pushed for the worm to tell him.

  “Queen Lazarus has been naughty,” he replied with another snort. “So has my brother.”

  “Speak!” Vince demanded, having enough of his games. I went to call out a demand – to force Lydris to be completely silent, but Vince was ready. He outstretched his hand toward me, silently willing me to kneel with my mouth shut.

  Lydris leisurely replaced the robes of Lilith with his own, uncaring that he got them dirty by not cleaning himself off first. “Where to begin? There is so much to tell! Ah… I know… Varnoc let quite a number of Zaarians flee when he oversaw the siege of Uxe and Remula. Shame they’ll just be turned over to Duskwraith once the real purging begins, right? Seems like the war was just an excuse for Varnoc to save some of his own. What a pitiful demon he turned out to be.”

  I was stunned. So much so I hardly thought of the other things Lydris could tell. I was unsure of how much he had the ability to see with his special power, but at that moment, all I could do was stare at Varnoc confused.

  “There was no reason for an extinction, Lazarus,” Varnoc rationalized quietly. “Killing children is an honorless action. I never agreed to wipe my own people from the face of the planet.”

  “But that isn’t even the worst part, Master,” Lydris said over Varnoc, chatting away to Vince as if we weren’t there. “I’m so sorry.”

  “I am five seconds from cutting out your tongue,” Vince snapped, at the end of his patience. My eyes went back and forth between everyone in the room. I felt like I was being publicly humiliated – and worst of all – I already knew what Lydris was about to say and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

  “Bonus: Varnoc also had the brilliant idea to use Levia when they attacked the city with a demon army,” Lydris said, grinning and holding his hands up for mercy when Vince throttled him.

  “What?”

  “She was injured,” Lydris fought to say against his hold. “Torn wing. Who knows if she’ll fly again.”

  Vince released him and crumbled to the floor. I had not witnessed many emotions in him beyond anger before. He was already an unstable source of energy, as he had accumulated a massive amount to power his travel to Earth that very day. The air crackled with crimson energy. It grew so dense, I could hardly breathe, though I did not need to.

  Deep down, I knew I would have to face his wrath for my actions eventually; I had not been prepared for Lydris to have the ability to read minds. Vincent knew beforehand it was what made him special. For so long I had regarded Lydris as a punishment, not believing he had any use beyond antagonizing me. In reality, my Master was aware of his talent that could be amplified by the darkness.

  “Levia,” Vince whispered with more hurt in his voice than I thought him capable of. “And I find out on the exact day I sought to depart.” He chuckled hopelessly and shook his head. “You always manage to ruin everything, don’t you, my precious Queen?”

  He strode toward me with purpose in his steps. I could do nothing but look up at him with a mixture of fear and betrayal. I was in disbelief that Varnoc would spit on the desires of Naazvaba and my orders – his master. I almost did not care when Vince grabbed me by my gown and pulled me to his face.

  “This game you are playing… I see through you,” he whispered, studying me inte
nsely. “You’ve always sought to cripple me. Levia is just one of your many attempts to do so.”

  “I never intended for Levia to get hurt… and to make it clear, Naazvaba declared you to stop the Nephilim experiment, not me. Naazvaba’s death sentence fell on Praetis, not mine! Let there be no mistake: I follow the will of the Void – not my own selfish desires.”

  Vince let me go with numbness written on his face. “If I don’t give our Gods the Nephilim, I go to Treachery. But – if I continue to seek the Nephilim – I go to Treachery as well. What would you have me do, holy prophet? Tell me the answer.”

  I stared back at him, unable to form words. It was a trap he was caught in, and he was not incorrect. He knew he had been spun up by our Gods with no way out. They had made it his life’s purpose to create a weapon to exact their goals – deciding never to give him another mission made their stance clear. They wished for Vince to suffer for his transgressions, be it future transgressions or not. He had tried their patience enough with his behavior. Putting him in Treachery was how Naazvaba intended to keep him away from me in our afterlife. Yes, I would be ascendant and godly in my home – but Vincent was bound to the icy realm of Lord Baelarius no matter what option he chose to take. We would never be together in life or death, as I was destined for far more.

  I was relieved, yet it was a horrible hell.

  “Bow,” I muttered, fearful of the consequences of my tongue while he was so worked up. He cocked his head to the side as if he hadn’t heard me clearly. “Bow and atone for your sins, for the sake of your soul! Leave behind the Nephilim and form a truly loyal allegiance to our Gods, and to me… your beloved.”

  I suppose it was my last-ditch effort to make him see reason.

  So many emotions flashed through my Master’s eyes I could not begin to keep up with reading them. His immediate reaction was fury, then it faded to confusion, followed by a frown, and finally, he kneeled at my feet.

  The action was tremendous and not something I will ever forget. My demonic children were shocked into kneeling as well. It was the only instance Vince had shown any sort of subordinance to me. It should have been a red flag – a hazardous sign – but I was not smart enough yet.

  “Love,” he whispered defeatedly before kissing my shaking hands. “If it is the will of our Gods, and the will of you – I will cease. You have my word.”

  I was in shock. It was tempting to believe him, and sadly, I did. I brushed his face and lifted his chin until our eyes met. I could not read them, as much as I tried, but he could read me. I did not try to break through the puzzles locking me out of his mind – I merely stood there, aware he was analyzing every part of me.

  “Now… if you will excuse me, my Queen, I have a significant amount of space to travel through and a dragon to heal. May you fare well on your conquests in my absence.”

  Just like that, I was bound to my enemies with no distinguishable escape.

  I never allowed myself to fully believe anything my Master said after being buried alive by him. It would have been foolish and ignorant. A strong, paranoid part of me knew that he would never give up chasing the Nephilim. It was beyond an order – it was as if it was the only thing that gave him meaning. He was not giving it up without a fight.

  We were entangled in a game, and it was one he had far more experienced in playing – he hadn’t lost yet. I had made my move, so it was his turn to respond. I thought I might have time to prepare since he was eager to depart on his vacation to Earth. To my mild dismay, he already had plans in motion.

  Before he departed, Vincent declared to our coven that he was finished with his experiments. Everyone was skeptical, perhaps even more so than I was. In a dramatic show to convince those that might not believe him, he destroyed his labs. He wanted everything burned: his countless years of research, the materials he had gathered, and all of the devices he had crafted trying to bring about the Nephilim. Most thought he was trying to display a testament to his loyalty. For me, on the other hand, it felt like he was hiding something. It was obvious.

  In any matter, he left after he was satisfied that Levia would heal. It was a peculiar sensation when he was fully away from our realm. Our bond still existed, but it felt… residual. It was dimmed to the point that Varnoc and Lydris were foremost in my mind and heart. In comparison to how it felt before he left, I wished he had stayed.

  Lydris was insufferable. He obsessively followed me, desiring to touch me and give me unwanted affection day in and day out. It was exhausting and annoying. It caused fights to break out between him and Varnoc, as I was beyond furious with him and refused to talk about what Lydris had seen. Throughout the planning of how we would go about attacking the south, I never replied to Varnoc’s direct questions. I responded to someone else instead. Any attention I gave to the worm was enough to put him into a rage.

  Kaza’mae was the next target, followed by my homeland Evya. I would not be bringing the forces of Duskwraith in either siege – I did not need them. Sendrys had already fought a long campaign in the shut-off, mystical nation when she was experimenting with disease magic. It had been over a century since she had returned.

  With the help of Mother, she was able to create the first plague device. Together, they toyed with the Kaz’moran until they caught global attention. Ironically enough, it was none other than Illyswen’s sister, Cyndre Vakaya, and cursed Maundrell that were responsible for disabling the device before it consumed all of Kaza’mae. It was a shame – the plague would have annihilated all of Kaeda without me having to lift a finger.

  Sendrys and her demonic children accompanied me with the Infernal Army, Typhlon, Yuelle, Lydris and Varnoc as we encroached into the mysterious, jungled land. I had never been there. It was marshy, but it could not have been further in appearance from my home on the moor. The foliage was varying shades of pinks and rubies. The trees grew as thick and as tall as buildings, making it far darker than what non-Kaz’moran mortals could see in. It was part of the reason I did not bother to bring mortal soldiers. The forces of the Void would have no issue.

  The Kaz’moran were hidden deep in the crevices of their country where they would not easily be harmed by outsiders. That was perfectly fine with us. We did not intend to fight a war with them, given their pest-like disposition. The plague would destroy them and all other survivors remaining in Kaeda. Without any sort of fighting force waiting to impede us, we walked through their country uninhibited. Besides the bickering between either my demonic children or Sendrys’, the long trip was mostly free of conflict. Physical conflict, that is.

  Not having my Master’s tugging bond combined with the hatred I felt for both Varnoc and Lydris was changing my mind. After I became a demon, I would have scoffed if someone told me I could endure more stress than I already had.

  My life had rapidly turned into a countdown. If it was not the countdown to my Master’s death, it was to mine. His extravagant display may have given him some breathing room with the Void Lords and our coven, but I knew it was only a matter of time. He might have even fled to Earth, for all I knew. There were days I believed fervently that he was going to hide there instead of facing justice.

  “He always comes back,” Sendrys had reminded me with an air of wisdom in her tone every time I began to worry. She had proven utter loyalty to me and Naazvaba on our trip, which brought me relief. In many ways, she was more knowledgeable on the Void than I was. It was a shame we hadn’t had much of an opportunity to convene earlier.

  During our excursion to find the deactivated plague device, she spent every day teaching me the necromancy and destruction based spells she had come to master. A normal demon would take hundreds, if not thousands of years – like her – to accumulate the skill and ability she transferred to me. I learned her techniques after a few tries, as Lord Nakarius was always quick to answer my call.

  There was far more to her than her magic or devotion. She had a truly wicked soul – whether she was told to or not, she had an obsessive desire to
bring an end to Praetis. When she had awoken as a demon, she knew it was her duty to spill all the blood she could. Vince had sat around drinking wine while she furthered Naazvaba’s goal. I would have rathered she be my Master. There would have been less heartbreak.

  Her demonic children were far older than mine put together and better-behaved, whether they were vindictive, violent demons or not. They were both talented and connected on a level I was envious of. They were twins before they were changed, which was incredibly rare – if not unheard of – for their race. Many have told me they seemed more like one being split in two rather than separate people. It was apparent when they spoke. It was as if they knew what each other was thinking at any given moment. I’m sure they did.

  The only living creatures we encountered on our journey to the device’s location were keeba bees. They were giant, perhaps bigger than katoma or beithirr. Unlike smaller breeds of keeba bees, they did not buzz as they floated near the tree lining. Rather, they flew deadly silent. They were typically non-aggressive, Sendrys had noted to my kin and I, despite their malicious stingers as long as swords. The only time we would need to worry was if they were mounted by the Rel’dali – a league of beekeeping assassins.

  The day we reached the outskirts of Farborough – an ancient and deserted cluster of villages – was close to the end of my time with my esteemed, necromantic colleague. It had been spent mostly in silence until whispers from the shadows roused my attention. It spoke in demonic tongues, calling to both the shard of War within me, and the shard of Famine within Sendrys. While War spoke with the vigor rivaling Lord Nakarius, Famine replied in a tone that reminded me of Lord Valorius, sending mandatory shivers down my spine.

  “Why do you hold Famine if you worship Lord Azmordius?” I asked Sendrys while we moved within my mass of demon ranks. It was a question I had wondered since I learned where each shard drew its power from. Lord Azmordius was associated with Pestilence, while Raven’s gluttonous attitude I thought closer to Lord Valorius.

 

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