by Emma Hamm
The World Tree.
“Stay here,” he ordered “Stay safe.”
“What’s going on?” Wolfgang shouted.
“She’s going to destroy everything,” Jasper told them. “He just gave her permission to hit the reset button.”
“How?” Lyra asked.
“He must be her master. I don’t have time to explain; I have to stop her.”
“Not alone!” she cried out.
“Alone. You’re safe here.” He looked over his friends one last time, sending a silent prayer to any god who might be listening to keep them safe. “You were good friends, and I am honored to have fought by your sides.”
“Don’t you dare!”
He teleported back to the square.
Heat blasted his skin. Great pulses of fire radiated from the podium. He ducked behind the statue, using it as a shield from Mercy’s power.
Between the pulses, he peered around the corner. She floated above the ground with her arms raised, her head tilted back, and blood dripping from her toes. Alone. Her hair whipped in wind created by her magic.
Her form was warped, not quite human anymore as her blue blood slowly turned to lava. It dripped upon the wooden podium and hissed as it burned through. Her skin turned to black tar, and golden scrollwork appeared over her body like tribal tattoos. The marks of a Phoenix, not a human.
Jasper was forced behind the statue again as more flames rode the waves of her power. To his left, a building crumbled to ash. Groaning booms echoed around them as more buildings fell. What remained of the stone soldier, turned to ash and rained down upon him in shards of stone.
“She is destroying the city,” he muttered to himself.
“We have to get to her,” Bluebell told him.
“I know. I know. I’m working on it.”
“We have to get to her now.”
“Yes, I know, Bluebell—”
“No time for thinking. Just do what she would do!”
He thumped his head against the statue. Mercy would do something rash. She would run directly towards the danger and wouldn’t care about the consequences. But that wasn’t something he could do. He’d burn to a crisp long before he reached her.
A different voice whispered in his ear. Jasper looked around but there was no one alive in view. It had sounded helpful, though he couldn’t make out the words. He pressed his forehead against the stone and closed his eyes, listening.
There it was, a whisper that sounded like the first drop of water after a drought. It cooled his body and stilled his mind. He saw a white light. It felt as though someone passed a cool, comforting hand over his forehead.
“Who are you?” he asked.
“I am your shield. Go to her, and I will hold the magic at bay.”
He did not know who the voice was, but, in that moment, he was certain he had just been blessed. Jasper didn’t know of any gods other than the five, yet this touch had been from a goddess. Certainly, it was a goddess.
As though in a trance, he stood. Mercy’s magic paused for only a moment, and he rounded the stone statue as a man going into battle.
He had told Lyra he would willingly walk into the fire for Mercy. He already had. Loving her was like standing in the center of a bonfire and reaching for something impossible.
The long tails of her blindfold lashed at her torso and left bright blue streaks of blood in their wake. Her mouth was open in a silent scream, the tails of fabric sopping up the blood streaming from her lips. Her magic rose in a great wave of fire again.
He raised an arm to cover his eyes and walked towards her. It struck him like a blow. His feet skidded on the dirt as he was forced backwards. But the fire did not burn him. Not yet.
He forced each step. Whenever he made progress, she forced him backwards. But he reached the podium with cool, white light guiding him.
Then he was close enough for the heat to break through his shield. The skin on his forearm peeled back and ragged pain made him grit his teeth. But he would not falter.
Up the steps, he went. The wood groaned under his weight, and he thought it might collapse. Somehow, it held.
Now, he stood before her. This creature of unimaginable power that had bent to his will only once in an enchanted forest, on a bed of moss.
“Mercy,” he muttered as he reached for her. His hands clasped upon her waist and pulled her down towards him. “Mercy, my love. This ends here.”
She did not respond. Her neck stretched as she stared at the sky, and her lashing hair flayed his raw skin.
He raised his hand to tunnel through those beloved red strands. Like blood, they flowed through his fingers. His brow furrowed as remorse twisted his gut.
“What has he done to you?” he asked.
More energy twisted around them, and this time it felt different. Her power had always tasted like ashes, neither good nor evil, simply necessary. But this power tasted black. Darkness was starting to seep out of her pores.
The voice that he did not recognize spoke in one of the lulls. “Even a Phoenix can only do so many dark things before turning dark itself.”
“She’s killing everyone, isn’t she?” Jasper knew the answer already.
“She is,” the voice that sounded like bells answered. “But it is not too late for her yet. Wake her up, Jasper. And when she is ready, bring her to me.”
“But who are you?”
The voice was gone. And his eyes widened as he felt the white magic, which had protected him, disappear as well.
He raised his hands and swept the blindfold off her head. His breath caught as he stared into the gaping holes where her sunset eyes had once been.
All around them the sky turned blood red. Streaks of the last lingering light of the sun caught upon her hair and skin. Black tar, gilded gold, and red hair made her otherworldly and dangerous. She was never meant to be like this.
Jasper was shaking when he stroked her forehead. “My love, come back to me.”
He could feel the wave of her magic growing again. She was going to destroy more things, but worst of all, herself. This was something he could not let her do.
“Mercy.” Jasper did not know if he was calling her name or begging that unknown deity for her help once more. “You do not deserve a leash. You are not a monster. Now, please, remember me.”
His lips found hers in a desperate attempt to bring her back to awareness. She did not respond. Panic stole his breath, and his arms tightened around her waist. If this was where he died, then so be it. He would die with her in his arms as a warrior should.
“Jasper,” she whispered his name into his lips and released the last bit of fire inside of her.
The heat stroked his skin in a lover’s caress and did not burn. He heard the sound of falling buildings and the end of the world. But Mercy was alive. Her hands held his arms, and her breath filled his lungs.
Jasper pulled back slightly so his eyes could run over the damages done to her body. Beneath his gaze, her eyes grew back to fill in the cavities left by the jagged spikes attached to the inside of the blindfold. Sunset eyes stared at him, now ringed with blood.
Her body trembled. “I have done terrible things.”
“You were aware the whole time?”
“I’m always aware,” she told him. Her teeth chattered audibly. “I have become what I was most afraid of.”
“Stay with me, please stay with me, love. We have to go.”
Mercy pulled away from him and stumbled backwards on the rickety wood planks. “I can hear them. I can hear them screaming and begging for mercy.” She gasped for air as though she were drowning. “Oh god they were calling my name, and I did not answer.”
She fell onto her knees and pressed her palms against her ears.
“Mercy, sweetheart—”
“They were bad people. They had done terrible things, and all I wanted to do was cleanse this place. But then—” Her voice caught. “They were innocent. They were good people trying to make a living in a
dark world, and I did not stop. I could not stop.”
“Don’t think about it. We have to leave.” He reached for her.
“Do not touch me!”
“Ignes,” Jasper called out to her Phoenix. “Ignes, take over so I can remove her from this place.”
They were interrupted by slow clapping. Jasper turned towards the sound, dropping into a fighting stance. Malachi sat atop the horse statue, in place of the missing soldier.
“Did you think I wasn’t aware you were watching?” Malachi asked. “I knew exactly where you were the entire time.”
Jasper wanted to punch that smug grin until there was nothing left but a bloody pulp. “You.”
“Me.” Malachi raised both his hands in the air. “Guilty as usual.”
“What do you want?”
“Well, mostly to gloat. But also to check in and see just how badly I broke your little Phoenix.”
Malachi tapped a hand against the stone horse’s shoulder. The head creaked, shuddered, and then began to move. Magic swept down the body until the statue was walking off its own stand and onto the ground.
Jasper’s lip curled in disgust. “I see you devoured a different power.”
“I had to keep myself busy while I was waiting for her to finish. Or for you to interrupt.”
“This was your plan? Destroy the city where most of your followers live?”
Malachi tsked. His long braid swayed against his back with the motions of his unnatural steed. “No. No. Remember how I told you this was all a game of chess?”
Jasper grunted and stepped back towards Mercy. She was kneeling on the ground, holding her head and muttering words he did not understand.
The other man shrugged. “Fine, you don’t have to talk. I will talk for you. In chess, all the pieces have different qualities, different abilities. It would be easy to assume that, say, the King is the most important one. And, in a way, it is. But many of the other pieces are far more versatile…and at the same time, more expendable. Do you understand what I am getting at?”
“No.”
“Good. I’m glad you were listening though.”
Jasper saw a dark streak of movement run towards him and push hard. He fell to his knee as a strange creature flew past him and landed upon the stone head of Malachi’s steed. The dark shape fluttered its dark wings. A crow.
“Shapeshifter,” Jasper grunted.
“Yes,” Malachi confirmed. “And a very good one at that.”
He pulled something from the crow’s mouth. Glistening in the sunset, Ella’s horn reflected the light far too prettily in Malachi’s hand.
“I’ve taught you many lessons about me, Jasper. One, that I always lie. Two, that I always win. And this third lesson I will give you for free.” He leaned forward. “I always take back what is mine.”
A few other people ran towards Malachi. One, Jasper recognized only as another Fairy. Her wings had been tied down upon her back, but she was indeed just like Jasper. She threw him an apologetic glance before reaching out to the three other people. They all disappeared from sight.
Jasper gritted his teeth. This had all been an elaborate ruse. Malachi only wanted one thing. The immortality Jasper had held in his pocket and delivered on a silver platter.
Time and time again, Jasper had proven to be a fool.
Mercy’s breath hitched towards hysteria, and Jasper knew he could not linger upon dark thoughts. She needed him now, as much as he needed her. But even more than that, she wanted him. She shared his feelings. That made her more important to him than life itself.
He spun on his heel and rushed to her. The platform’s wood was charring all around, the edges crumbling. It wouldn’t be long before they crashed through it to the ground beneath. Jasper doubted Mercy was capable of taking care of herself in her current state; she’d only get herself hurt further.
His hands slid underneath her armpits and raised her like a child into his arms. Mercy did not hold onto him. Mercy remained limp in his hold as he carried her away from her fires, off the podium, and onto the cobblestones lining the square’s ground
Ash fell from the sky like rain. White flakes that were beautiful and so corrupt at the same time. Jasper scanned the area for any further enemies, and only then did he realize the destruction she had caused.
The buildings were gone. He had heard them falling, but he hadn’t made the correlation between the ringing in his ears and everything else. He had thought it was a few buildings.
But this was utter desolation. Everywhere he looked, the city was gone. Every building had been reduced to rubble. The only thing that stood within miles was the single platform that shuddered as fire devoured it.
His legs gave out. Landing on his knees, Jasper clutched her in his arms and pressed his trembling lips to her hair. So much death and ruin.
Now he understood why she had lost her mind.
“Mercy,” he whispered. “Mercy, no more crying please.”
“It was me,” she sobbed into his shoulder. “I did this. I took so much life, and I can’t find my way back.”
Sparks sizzled on her shoulders. One landed on his beard, and Jasper had to pull away from her to snuff it out.
Mercy fell away from him, catching herself on her elbows and burying her hands in the ash.
“Gone,” she muttered. “Gone forever and gone.”
He didn’t know how to help her. He didn’t know how to ease her suffering, and nor was he certain that she should be eased. There was so much to rebuild because of her.
He knew it wasn’t a fair thought. But, looking around them, he understood why she had been locked away. A creature with power such as this had to be controlled.
She shifted to look at him, and he watched all humanity drain out of her gaze. The thing that looked back at him was red-eyed and disturbingly cold.
“Am I dreaming?” she asked him.
“No.”
Her fingers convulsed. “In my dreams, everything burns.” She cocked her head to the side in a birdlike manner, her eyes scanning the area. She did not look at Jasper again.
Worried, he reached forward and guided her face towards him. “You are Mercy.”
“I am mercy,” she agreed. “I am destruction. I am ruin. I am power.”
“No. No, you are my Mercy. My woman, not a Phoenix. Not yet.”
That seemed to confuse the creature. She turned away again, her skin boiling and peeling away to reveal the dark, cooled magma beneath.
Bluebell battered against his skull. “Let me help.”
“Not now,” he grumbled as he tried to think of some way to stop this from happening.
“Let me help! I can help!”
She was so frantic that Jasper relented, allowing her control over his arms.
“What are you going to do?” he asked. The battle was nearly over. He had almost nothing left to give.
“I’m going to make things grow.”
“We can’t do that.”
“I can.”
Jasper felt the strangest suction from his center, almost as though someone was pulling a thread through his belly button. He swayed, head spinning, but his arms remained steady.
He watched his palms press into the ash, and again, dizziness skewed his vision. From between his fingers a small green stem unfurled, growing from the ground and blooming before his eyes.
Jasper was pushed aside in his own mind as Bluebell took full control. The blue glow of his eyes reflected on Mercy’s tarred skin.
“See?” Bluebell said through his lips. “Not everything you have done is bad.”
Mercy moaned.
“This plant never would have grown here before you came. Now it stretches its roots and opens its leaves to gather light. You made this possible. From the ruin of a forest fire, a stronger forest grows.”
Bluebell faded back into his mind, and Mercy looked up at him. The color of her eyes swirled in a kaleidoscope that finally landed on the ombre he so loved.
“I
’m losing my mind,” Mercy firmly said. “I always knew it would happen, but I didn’t think it would be so soon.”
“You’re not losing your mind.”
“It’s my only way to survive this, Jasper.” She pressed a hand against his cheek. “I can’t live with this. I can’t live knowing that my fears were correct. That I know myself well enough to understand that a monster lives inside me. Insanity is safer than this reality.”
“You are not a monster.”
“You can’t tell me that. Not when you look around and see all that I have done.”
He didn’t know how to respond to that. He couldn’t. She had taken from this city and given nothing back to it.
Mercy seemed to recognize the thoughts that danced behind his eyes. “I am a brutal woman, Jasper. And you have to let me go.”
“You are a steel blade. Sharp and deadly to all. But when wielded by the right person, I believe you would be an advocate for good.”
Bluebell thundered forward in his mind to say her last piece. “You are not destruction and ruin. You are new life and birth.”
Mercy shook her head at them. “Your unfailing belief in me will be your undoing.”
“Let me be your master.” Despite the ground digging into his knees painfully, despite the greasy ash under his palms, Jasper spoke the words with vigor.
“I will take no man for a master.”
“I promise you now, I will not ask you to do anything without first convening with you. You will not be my sword; you will be my equal. I love you.” The words stuck in this throat, until he could say them again. Stronger. Louder. “I love you. I love everything about you, including the dangerous side of you. I watched your descent. Now let me help you rise. A Phoenix is always meant to ascend.”
“You don’t know what you’re asking,” she said. “A master is forever or until they die.”
“Then forever it is.”
“You will be old,” tears shone in her eyes, “and I will be young. I will never change. I will never feel the things you feel. You will be responsible for me. My pain will be your pain.”
He smiled at her. “Then so be it. Did you not hear me before?”
She expelled all the air from her lungs in a long, wheezing breath, only to suck in more a moment later. The tension in her body visibly eased. Finally, she reached out for him.