by K R Leikvoll
We chanted the words carefully; we were all tremendously powerful demons, thus it was almost effortless to conjure the Void’s energies. Crimson and violet light filled the ritual chambers, surrounding us that held hands in an interlocking circle around Fevith.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough to beat Maundrell,” Devith told her brother over our muttering. “I don’t know how I will survive.”
“Nonsense,” he replied. “You must kill Lydris and avenge your family while I tend to our Master in our new home. Gaita-orta. We will meet again.”
“Gaita-orta,” she whispered in return. It was a Kaz’moran phrase I was unfamiliar with.
Vince was fed up with waiting. He pushed the spell further until a choir of demonic voices greeted us from Heresy. They asked us our demands, and my Master answered with the location of each of the plague devices. Two had been moved: the one in Himmel and the one in Basul. They were all being kept in the Capitol, likely where the Divinus could keep a close eye on them.
Vince agreed to the terms mentally; the light channeled into Fevith’s body, causing the marks transcribed on his flesh to burn through him. He handled the pain well, not crying or pleading for us to cease. No, that came from the poor, pitiful Devith. At first, it was of fear, but once Fevith began to perish – when his soul was being pulled to the Void as our payment – she screamed and entered a fit of hysteria.
James and Guinevere tried to pacify her with their blood almost immediately, as the wails she released were so tortured, none of us could stand to listen to it. She writhed like she was having a seizure. Black blood poured from her nose and her eyes rolled back into her skull. It was a horrifying thing to witness my kin endure, despite all that I had seen and committed personally.
Since that night, she had been a corpse, and I had been sick. Not just myself, but Raven included. We were shocked into fear at the agony she survived through. Even after months of recovery, her brain was still entirely blank as if she was mentally dead. Any brief moments of privacy we had on our voyage were spent viciously formulating a plan.
I hadn’t thought she would leave her room on our warship, nor did I think she would survive a battle, to begin with. It was mildly surprising to see her lean against the same railing I was resting on. Her pale blue hair that had been untamed for weeks was braided in a way that Guinevere wore. She must have been visiting with her before she came to see me. It was rather deserted on the deck beyond a few mortal crew members that avoided us.
“I always believed you,” Devith whispered. “When you said Lydris was a worm. I should have killed him and died as punishment to preserve your peace. It would’ve spared Fevith and my Master.”
“Dwell on your anger, but accept you cannot change what is done. He lives eternally in the Void, once more with Sendrys and Naazvaba.” My words were not soothing, nor were they meant to be, but it was the truth.
“If they are at peace, then why does it feel this awful? It’s as if my body is being ripped apart, yet I’m standing here unscathed. The flames of sacrifice are pale in comparison to this torture! I would throw myself overboard if I was capable of drowning.”
“When you enter our true home, you will feel this pain disperse into memory. But you cannot return yet.”
“Why, Lazarus? Why do you listen to the desires of him? It doesn’t matter what order he gives me or how frail my body is, the moment we dock, I will hunt Lydris and Maundrell until my dying breath. Treachery can be no worse than this.”
I was compelled by her statement. The effects of losing her bonds drove her indifference to the most frightening, confusing realm of the Void. I made a mental note of it, as I could not afford to make decisions like that if we were dealt the same fate. Her desire to rebel was one that I respected, not one that offended me. I could feel her suffering – it was draining to be near her. When I reminded myself of my own longings for revenge, though, I knew it was important for her to fulfill the same.
“Lydris is mine to kill… but Maundrell you can have. Don’t fear Treachery,” I told her, forcing her to look me in the eyes. “You have my blessing, as long as you make him pay.”
It was hard not to be worried or anxious about splitting my bond with Varnoc, but I knew Vince’s death sentence was on the horizon. Lord Nakarius was furious, echoing his fellow Void Lords’ emotions for me to hear. It hurt my head to endure the energy War desired in turn. The trip to Naadea, and my first time at sea was miserable because of it. I loved the ocean from my tower window for so long, it did not matter if I was uncomfortable, I would linger on the docks to enjoy it.
Raven approached me one of the chilly mornings with a cloak he thought I needed. It was frigid as we passed through the northern open waters toward the territories of Himmel. It was faster and safer to attack from the north than to risk being spotted near Ashena. In any matter, I hadn’t left for a few days and the winds from the near continent bit at my skin. I could hardly feel the physical sensation of it in comparison to my internal turmoil, however.
“We need to make it a priority to find Lydris. I know the Divinus is our prime enemy, but…” I trailed off.
Raven threw the cloak over my shoulders and I sighed unconsciously from relief. He sat near me after he was sure we were alone. Vince would meet us with Levia (if she healed sufficiently), thus he did not voyage on the ship, but we did not want to risk anything. He could show up whenever he pleased.
“I think while we have the ship away from prying eyes, we should go through with practicing the spell. I know the risk associated might seem unpleasant after what we witnessed, but you are the prophet. The strongest of us – despite Vince attempting to make you feel inferior.”
“I would rather do it on Lydris than Varnoc. I don’t trust either of them, but Varnoc could redeem himself,” I admitted. Honesty was usually a liability – Raven was the only person I could share my emotions with.
“We don’t know how much time we have.” He sighed, clearly because he was struggling to come up with an alternative to appease me. His hand tightened on my shoulder. “Stonebreaker could be another spy for our Master.”
“He was never cut out to be a demon. All he sought was his own vengeance, but I do not believe him to be under Vince’s sway. He always expressed his distaste.”
Raven cupped my cheek in his hands and studied my state. He scanned over my frostbitten skin, dirty clothes and tired eyes. It was clear to him how much I was suffering from something of the same variety as Devith. Obviously not as bad, as the state I was in was nowhere near the pain of losing both a brother and a Master. Regardless, fear – something I believed I would never feel again – overwhelmed me. I did not want to kill Varnoc just for the sake of an experiment… but what choice did I have?
“I know it must be difficult to imagine splitting a bond; I can’t fully comprehend what it will feel like when our Master is gone, but we must stay the course. Never forget: our Master declared Stonebreaker to become a demon… it was not your choice. Therefore, we cannot take any risks with his loyalty. He may have openly opposed Vince’s decisions, but he opposed you on the battlefield.”
Raven was right about Varnoc being insubordinate, but I still could not allow myself to believe he was yet another puppet of my Master’s. It made more sense that Vince would throw him on me, knowing Varnoc would work against my goal of planetary destruction instead of actively scheming with him against me like Lydris. Destruction was something Vince was trying to avoid for his own selfish and foolish reasons. What kind of Emperor could he be without any subjects?
“I fear if it goes wrong, I might perish and fail Naazvaba. I am not immune to punishment, no matter what you believe.”
“You will not fail, Lazarus. Don’t even entertain that idea,” he replied sharply, shaking my numbed shoulders. “You are the prophet; destiny will always play in your favor. Even the cosmos itself submits to your existence.” He was attempting to give me a pep talk, to prepare me mentally for the task he was pushing me toward.<
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“Perhaps you know more about being the prophet than I do.”
I felt backed into a corner – I knew I had no choice but to take that painful knife in my chest for the sake of my Gods. I was not remotely interested in Raven’s efforts to empower my existence and ease my troubled mind.
He was unsure how to respond right away. He simply stared out at the Black Sea with eyes as weary as mine. “These sorts of things don’t come with instructions. I wish I had soothing words or all of the answers, but the truth is, nobody does. We don’t have the foresight to determine whether or not the spell would work as intended without practice. If you desire to take the chance of entering Devith’s state, I will stand by your decision, but it is a foolish one.”
The aching of my heart worsened when I thought about the unpleasantness Devith was stuck in. If Treachery was preferable to the pain, it was something to be heeded. I gave a single stiff nod to Raven after another period of silence.
I would do what I had to, even though I hardly remembered my home in paradise. For surely it was still out there, with my eternal companion yearning for my return.
“I will give you privacy, but I am a call away, awaiting you if you need assistance.” The call he referred to was the call I could channel through the shard of the Dark Essentia for aid. It would be preferable to handle my demonic child without an audience.
I followed Raven to his small room aboard our ship for the preparations. There was much to the spell we sought to cast that had to be done beforehand. He had already painted the ritual circle on his floor, alluding to me that he knew ahead of time that I would agree, no matter how hesitantly. After covering me in numerous runes, he set up candles and began his chants while I meditated.
There were over seven hundred individual parts to be cast before our spell-circle could power the request we desired. Lord Nakarius was notably silent, observing without opinion. I’m sure there was plenty he could say on my situation, but I never asked. I knew they did not care what method Vince perished in, as long as he was dealt with.
Raven did every mantra from memory without mistake. He spoke the words as if he was having a compelling argument with the Void over our demands. It was in an ancient language, not of this world, thus I had difficulty understanding exactly what it all meant. That was the riskiest part – one could never be presumptuous about meanings when it came to an alien spell.
“Inanissa…” was the final word to leave his lips. The candles were blown out by an obscure source.
Magical violet light illuminated the darkness, radiating from within me. I felt the energy sealing me to the wooden flooring with its gravity. I was the selected conduit and I had more than enough for the Void to manifest itself to us. I raised my hands toward the ceiling, calling upon all that would hear my plea.
“Speak.”
The voice was unlike any I had heard, even compared to the Void Lords. It was not a voice in the traditional sense. It was like a wave of electricity sailed through my body, forcing me to think only of the word it uttered. It was a form of communication that did not use languages.
“I wish to be free of my bond to Varnoc Stonebreaker,” I declared, though I am not sure if I did so verbally. “This is not the request of a mere devil. I am the prophet of Naazvaba and I demand to be heard.”
An overpowering push forced me to bow. Not any bow – it did not stop until my face rested on the blood-painted wood. It felt like there was a boot on my head, keeping me firmly planted in that position. The shadows cast by the violet light danced against the wall as if my form was on fire, though I felt no pain. Being my first time through it, I was stricken with nerves, expecting that I might possibly die for my tongue. Perhaps my words might seem cocky to a mortal, but maintaining my reputation and title as the prophet was the most important thing I could do when interacting with unknown powers.
“Free me from him!” I demanded through it, at the top of my lungs. “You will find none more worthy of your powers than I, Queen of the Void!”
All at once, the force dispersed. It expelled through my fingertips and eyes before ceasing and leaving me and Raven in darkness. With a wave of his hand, a crimson flame was summoned into his palm. He raised it above us.
The candles had melted into wax, coating the floor around me. The bloody spell circle he painted was gone without a trace. I stumbled when I tried to rise to my feet, feeling rather weak. Raven assisted me until I could balance on my own again. Everything was blurry and confusing.
“Did it work?” I whispered when I had the ability. For an unknown reason, it was as if I hadn’t spoken in days, not previously yelling as loud as I could.
“I don’t know,” Raven replied honestly as he studied my skin. The painted markings we worked tirelessly beforehand to place on parts of my skin were gone as well. “What happened? You were speaking in another tongue.”
I flexed my hands, focusing on Varnoc. Did anything feel different?
Yes. Yes, it did. It was awful, but only in the emotional category. There was a weak point somewhere in the invisible bond that was like a bruise being pressed on. I was horrified, even though the spell worked as well as it could. The odd connection the bond gave us was dimmed to being hard to sense standing beside Raven. It had become less than my non-Sacramental bond.
I had to smother a slight sob of distress when I heard Varnoc calling for me from the docks. He felt it too; he was searching for me as if I was in danger. Half of my mind was screaming that he did not deserve a fate like Treachery. The other half was still petrified of the supposed hell awaiting me after it was complete, like a spooked child. No part of me wanted to do this.
“I am here if you need me,” Raven reminded me as I slowly made my way to the door.
I thought I was detached before anything happened with Varnoc. I struggled with the doorknob until my hand finally grasped it properly and ripped it open. The magic of our bond was strong enough to weigh down my legs, to weaken my knees and arms. Everything it ever conceived prevented it from allowing me to sever it willingly.
Varnoc’s voice led me to his location, toward the stern of the ship. He was crying out through our bond as if he was a lost soul in a sea of nothingness…
He was sitting on his knees, holding his head in his hands in the corner of the stern’s lower tiered balcony. Perhaps he thought I had jumped overboard.
“Lazarus,” he breathed, immediately standing up and engulfing me in his embrace. His arms locked tightly around my body, but I did not respond, nor could I. “Something’s wrong. I feel strange.” I worked my way out of his hold so I could visually examine the damage.
The crimson lines binding us together were entirely different. Varnoc gasped sharply as if he was physically pained by the sight; I did not blame him in the slightest. Where they met between us, the tangled mass had grown nearly black. His eyes, so full of anguish, stared at me with confusion. I was hiding my true emotions, appearing impassive to our predicament.
“What’s happening?” he asked with a shudder. It was partially from fear, I could tell. He witnessed what Devith endured just the same as everyone else. “What have you done?”
I stroked his face, and he held my hand while he trembled. When I neared his throat, I summoned a blade of War, just as unsteady as he was.
“You’re going to kill me?”
I could not begin to answer. I put my forehead to his and inhaled his scent. Why did he have to remind me so much of Illyswen? I hated him for it.
“What must I do? How can I fix this?”
Deplorable emotions! Even with our impaired bond, it was impossible to cut his head off. War retracted. I leaned against the railing and breathed deeply. The damage was done, yet I couldn’t finish it. It was far more difficult than I thought it would be. An intact bond would make it more than impossible. There was a reason blood bonds were such a sacred practice – greater demons had to keep each other in check. They were eternal, obviously. Nor were they designed with a fail-safe, so t
o speak.
“There’s nothing you can do. You betrayed me… beyond forgiveness.”
At that, Varnoc grew infuriated through his pain.
“Because I did not wish to stain my hands with what the plague would do regardless? Speak sense, Lazarus! I have done all I can to make amends and you remain deaf.”
“Once a traitor, always a traitor. Until this coven is free of them, we all face Treachery.”
“And so I am to be punished as if I’m the worm? Listen to yourself! You are pushing those that care for you away while longing for those that would see you to your grave! I did spare some of our enemies, but I never did something as unthinkable as betraying a member of our coven.”
“Lydris’ crimes need not be observed while you face the repercussions of your own,” I hissed, steadily losing control of my emotions. “In the Void, there is no difference in punishment. A crime against Naazvaba is a crime against Naazvaba. You have wronged me, Stonebreaker, and for that, there have always been consequences. I expected more out of you.”
“Finish it then!” he demanded sharply, ramming me against the exterior of the ship. “Kill me, Lazarus.”
I struggled with his grasp until my strength returned to me. I shoved him nearly off the ship into the ocean below. He caught the railing and laughed a hopeless laugh – he knew I could not finish him.
“Just because you could kill me, doesn’t mean it would be this simple with Vince, you know. I’m not a fool as you might think; only a blind idiot wouldn’t notice your conniving actions.”
“Stop. You know nothing of what you speak!”
“Don’t I?!” he yelled back, uncaring if others heard on board. “You think your bond with him will dissolve into ash with spells? You will never kill him – you could never! You will always walk in his shadow –”