“I’ll endure it if it brings my brother back,” Mitsoumi said. “But this is for Masataka, shouldn’t you be asking him?”
“You would think that, wouldn’t you? You people always think things like that,” Raul said with a smirk. “You are wrong. I am asking you. In your heart, is this thing you are asking worth it to you?”
“If it was for Dirge Meilan, I would tell you no. Unequivocally. She wasn’t special to me. She was strong, sure. She died doing a thing that probably needed to be done… but bring her back? I don’t really care. My brother, on the other hand, it means everything to me. This is the first time he’s ventured out of the house since she died three weeks ago. To restore him, I would do nearly anything. Bringing her back should do that,” Mitsoumi said as he glanced past Raul and stared at his brother. “It has to.”
“So you would think, wouldn’t you?” Raul leapt forward and grabbed Mitsoumi’s face in his hands. He twisted them until they were eye to eye and pushed his forehead into Mitsoumi’s until the Dioscuri was off balance. Mitsoumi’s arms waved frantically in the air for balance, but the only thing that kept him from flopping backward was the Blue Prince’s grip. “You would be so very wrong to assume that. It would astound you. Unfortunately, I cannot do this thing you ask of me. I do not think you can withstand the pain it would cause you to tread down this path. I do not think it wise.”
Raul released him, and Mitsoumi toppled to the ground. He struck hard on his elbow and pain flashed across his face. He tried to roll onto his hands and knees. The Blue Prince’s boot smashed into Mitsoumi’s chest, and he flopped onto his back. One of Mitsoumi’s hands instinctively went to cover his face while the other reached for his sword. Warm blood trickled through Mitsoumi’s fingers, hot and slick as that very same boot placed itself on his throat.
“If you want the Revenant’s Diadem, reach out and take it.” Raul said and held something in his outstretched hand. It glittered like a miniature sun. The golden light of it was so bright that I couldn’t look at it without practically closing my eyes. Even still, I could feel it pulsing like a heart, throbbing with energy, thrumming in the air.
Mitsoumi moved to grab the object, and the heat of it threatened to sear the flesh from his bones. It was so close that he could nearly touch it. His fingertips brushed against its polished golden surface. It was like watching someone try to grab fire. Mitsoumi gritted his teeth and struggled to ignore the flame that rushed down his arm. A cry burst from his lips.
Raul pulled the Diadem away, and the fire receded. Mitsoumi’s arm dropped limply to his side. The skin of his hand was blackened. The smell of burning meat hung in the air, the acrid stench filling my nostrils and turning my stomach. Mitsoumi pried his eyes away from his burned hand, trying his best to ignore the sight of his own flesh flaking away.
I can’t imagine what it must have been like to be trapped beneath the boot of the Blue Prince with your only chance of survival being to grab something made of fire. Part of me wanted to go to him, to knock the Blue Prince away and pull Mitsoumi to his feet. To tell them to run and not bother to bring me back, to tell them I wasn’t worth all this effort on their part.
But this was a vision of the past. It wasn’t real, and I couldn’t interfere anyway. Still, there was a teeny, tiny part of me that knew Mitsoumi would keep trying until he was dead. Mitsoumi had too much honor, too much pride… and he loved his brother too much.
Mitsoumi reached up again. Flames exploded down his arm. His stomach flexed as he struggled to pull in a breath. His hand started to smolder. It reminded me of a time when I was younger and unthinkingly reached into the fire to move a burning log. Once more, Raul pulled the Diadem out of his reach.
“If you really, really want it, take it. Take the Diadem from me. Know that it will send your entire world into a tailspin. You will risk everything for one girl,” the Raul meat-suit said. The Diadem glittered in his hand. It throbbed with energy, casting harsh pink light across his face. Mitsoumi turned his head from the glare, and images of ants bursting into flames beneath a magnifying glass leapt through my mind. “And it won’t even matter.”
Raul bent close and held the Diadem inches from Mitsoumi’s nose. The heat of it licked the moisture from Mitsoumi’s mouth. His lips cracked, and his skin blistered. He was supposed to grab this object? He was supposed to take this thing? Could he really do it?
Mitsoumi struggled, trying vainly to dislodge the boot from his neck. “Masataka would take the object. Masataka was made to sacrifice, to put others before himself.” Raul’s voice was barely a whisper. “Can you not do this one little thing for him, Mitsoumi?”
Realization blossomed across Mitsoumi’s face, and in that moment, I knew the truth. Mitsoumi couldn’t do it. For all his love… Mitsoumi didn’t have it in him to take the Diadem from the Blue Prince.
“You are not made that way, Mitsoumi,” Raul continued. “You are selfish and motivated by your own actions.” Raul sighed and shook his head. “Deep down, you know you are really doing this for yourself. You are doing this because your brother’s sadness hurts you. You are doing this so your own pain will stop. Do not fool yourself into thinking you are doing this for Masataka.” That horrible grin spread across Raul’s face once again, and Mitsoumi shuddered and looked away. “I bet you knew that superficially before, but now you know it to be certain.” A shiver ran down Mitsoumi’s spine. Above him, Raul straightened and removed his boot from Mitsoumi’s neck.
“Now you see what the value of your heart is. Now you are worthy. In your own unworthiness, you have shown me what the value of this Diadem is to you. You have shown me so much, little human, and have shown me nothing at all.” Without another word, Raul dropped the Diadem. It clanked against the brick road and went out. What remained behind was a dented, tarnished crown. No brilliant gems were in place now. It looked like they’d been pried away. “Take your pitiful prize, Dioscuri. Take it and leave my world.”
27
“What do you mean he’s the Blue Prince?” Masataka said as he took a step forward. He whirled then, turning to see his brother lying in the dirt. Mitsoumi gripped the Diadem in one hand, while his other hung uselessly at his side, flesh blackened beyond use. “Brother!” Masataka shrieked as he sprinted toward Mitsoumi and gathered him up in his arms. “What happened to you?”
“I got your Diadem, Masataka,” Mitsoumi said with a grin and held it out to his brother.
Masataka’s eyes went wide as he stared at the dented crown. “I thought it’d be… I don’t know, shinier?” he said taking it from Mitsoumi and holding it up to the light.
“It was. I think I broke it,” Mitsoumi said as he pushed himself to his feet. “I’ll be okay. This is nothing,” he added as Masataka took a few steps away, oblivious.
“Oh,” Masataka replied, turning to glance at his brother. “Sorry, are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I—” Thick gobs of saliva spattered against Mitsoumi’s uniform as he flung his body haphazardly to the side, narrowly avoiding the thick, claw-like limb that whipped out at him.
The smell of sulfur invaded my nostrils, bringing tears to my eyes and obscuring my vision as I turned to look at the creature. It was a weird greenish color that was so dark it was almost black and resembled a giant arachnid.
“Who would have thought, young Dioscuri, that you would be able to retrieve the Revenant’s Diadem? Once I take it from you and deliver it to Jiroushou Manaka, he will reward me greatly,” cooed the serpentine voice of the monster.
“Masataka, get out of here!” Mitsoumi screamed, yanking his sword, Gram, from its sheath and pointing it at the giant spider.
“But you’re hurt, Mitsoumi,” Masataka said as he reached back for his trident. “And I’m stronger, I can take this guy.”
“I know you’re stronger. That’s why you need to go. Only you can keep it from these guys. All I can do is buy you a little time.” And with those words, Mitsoumi turned his back to his brother and decided to be a hero.
Masataka stood there, looking at his brother for a moment before disappearing down the road in a flash. I swallowed and shook his head. Had Masataka really just left his brother, the royal heir, to die defending his back?
“Look, you ugly son of a bitch, I’m not letting you get the Diadem, so you best just go run and hide,” Mitsoumi said and the creature smirked.
“You can’t stop me,” it said and lashed out with one of its many limbs. The blow slammed into Mitsoumi’s ribs. The air in his lungs expelled so violently that it was laced with blood. A fit of ragged coughing overtook Mitsoumi as he slumped to his knees. The creature loomed over him and cackled.
Mitsoumi’s teeth cracked and tiny shards of splintered bone bit into his flesh as another blow slammed him face first into the gravel-strewn earth. I fought the urge to look away because this ass kicking was partially my fault.
He got this beating to bring me back to life. Even though he didn’t even care about me, he decided to stay here while his brother escaped with the Revenant’s Diadem. It was noble, and it was stupid. It made my stomach twist up into knots because he did it for me.
“I must have done something truly right this day,” the spider said as it wrapped one of its tentacles around Mitsoumi’s neck and hoisted him into the air as if he weighed nothing. Acidic saliva dripped from its gaping maw, splattering against the brick road and sizzling. The stench of week old meat filled my nostrils, and I struggled not to gag. “To be rewarded with the Diadem.” One large eye swiveled around on the spider’s face to glare at Mitsoumi who was turning an awful shade of blue.
“You must be thinking, ‘I’m certainly glad I sent the Diadem’s holder running away while spending my life to save his,’” the creature cackled, pointing into the distance with one limb. “Such things are empty. Both your dreams and your promises are worth less than your pathetic little life. There is no escape for a soul like Dirge. She will wait in hell until the powers decide to unmake her. The life you hoped to save is, at best, huddled in a corner while the demons of hell, ravenous as they are, search for her with slavering jaws. There they will find her, and they will inflict incredible torment on her rotting carcass. There will be no requiem for Dirge Meilan. This is the command of Jiroushou Manaka, and thus it shall be.”
I swallowed and chill swept over me. I couldn’t remember that in-between time. The one everyone kept insisting Dirge spent in hell. I couldn’t remember if what they said was true. But what if it was? What if Jiroushou Manaka was so powerful that even after Dirge died, he’d reached into hell and tortured her? The thought made me cold inside.
All this time, I had been angry at Dirge, but the more I learned about her, the more I felt sorry for the way I’d acted. Everything told me she had been a hero, but instead, I’d been spitting on her memory. It made me feel like a spoiled child. Especially considering that even my mother had been able to look past the woman being her rival. Couldn’t I at least try and do the same? Try in see her for the hero she really had been? If I did that, well, I’d have to work hard to earn the right to be compared to her.
A bright searing light exploded to the left, and I whirled toward it. Joshua Landers and Warthor Ein were visible for a moment as the flash subsided. Warthor charged forward, his blade transforming into something that looked more like the spine of some great monster than a sword. The demon moved, but even as it did so, Warthor’s weapon came down and obliterated the creature in one fell swoop.
Mitsoumi fell to the ground, his body collapsing into a bloody heap. Warthor bent to help him up, a curious smile on his face. It was the one that said everything was going exactly as he expected, and while amusing, was somewhat disappointing.
“This is where we must part ways. I’ve never been quite clear with you from the start, Mitsoumi,” Warthor said, his blade clanging against its sheath as he brushed the dirt off Mitsoumi’s shoulder. “Unless the Diadem is fully awakened, it won’t resurrect anything beyond memories, no matter how much power you have. Awakening the damn thing, my friends, takes souls, thousands and thousands of precious souls.”
Warthor’s crazy smile appeared again. “That’s why I told Masataka to go ahead and prepare the spell while I came for you. He seemed quite concerned for you by the way. I feel you ought know this because when your dear brother activates the spell, his life will be forfeited. The Diadem must be turned on so it can begin gathering souls. I think Masataka knows this will happen.” Warthor paused, his hand lingering on the hilt of his blade for a moment. “Then every being that dies, be it human, Dioscuri, or demon, will be cast into the Diadem’s burning fire. No more reincarnation, no more heaven and no more hell… just the blank emptiness of the void. The unfortunate thing is that even if the Diadem absorbs everything from now until eternity, it won’t be enough. Then again that was never the point.”
Okay. Warthor was insane. I mean I knew that. I heard about what he did and how it all worked out, and obviously, he won because I was alive. Looking at him now, in this moment, and hearing his voice let me know one thing. Warthor didn’t care if he won or not. If I came back that’d be great. If I didn’t come back and the world ended, well he was okay with that too because he didn’t want to live in a world without Dirge.
Warthor Ein was okay with destroying the universe to bring Dirge back, and I didn’t know why. I didn’t have any particular memories from Dirge’s life that led me to believe they shared a special bond. I couldn’t think of anything that would make him willing to go all ‘apocalyptic ultimatum’ just to resurrect her.
I shivered. He did this thing, this crazy, horrible thing to bring Dirge back to life… and I didn’t know why.
“You… you knew this all along?” Mitsoumi asked, staggering forward, blood dripping down his face. “And still you sent my brother to his death? Just to resurrect one girl? You would sacrifice all those people? You would sacrifice Masataka? He was your friend.”
“She is… special to me,” Warthor said, his face taking on an almost specter-like quality. “She is worth more to me than your brother will ever be. She can end this war. She alone can stop the demons from ever returning. That is worth more than your brother to me. If it was the other way around, if Masataka was the key to their destruction, rest assured, he would sit higher in the ledger.”
Mitsoumi screamed and lunged at the Invincible Warthor Ein, but even as he did so, millions of tiny icicles exploded from Warthor’s weapon. Sleet and snow hammered into Mitsoumi, tearing into his flesh and flinging him backward into the dirt. The ground beneath them fast froze, turning slick with ice as Warthor stepped onto Mitsoumi’s burned arm, pinning it to the ground.
“Everything has a cost,” Warthor said, shaking his head. He wiped his face with the back of his hand. “Yet no matter how much you pay, it still costs and costs. I want you to remember something, when it seems the costs are insurmountable, when it seems like something is impossible, the only way to press through it, the only way to become the victor when all seems lost is to change the rules. This is because if you want something bad enough, if you are willing to sacrifice it all, the universe will shift, if only for a moment, and truly spectacular things are possible. I’m going to force the universe to shift. It’s about damn time the universe shifted.”
“Even Dirge Meilan is not worth this price,” Joshua said as he looked up. Tears brimmed in his eyes. His voice was hoarse and full of pain. His cheeks were reddened with emotion and the snail trails of tears. “I watched her die. I watched her put my life, and the lives of everyone, before her own. I watched her disemboweled form seize Manaka… But to expend enough power to destroy the universe to bring her back? Dirge would not want that. It would be better to let her go, Warthor.”
Warthor shook his head. “If it were only that simple my friend. I have spoken with Zef and he agrees. The Lords of Death will not allow her to enter Heaven while Mattoc is still bound to her, and she will not leave him. She cannot stay in Hell. Already, Manaka’s allies in hell have attacked
her. They will unmake her given enough time.”
Another shiver rippled down my body. I looked down at the spot where Mattoc was bound to me. I just recently learned why he was here with me, of the deal Dirge made with Rhapsody to save both of them. I knew that both of them were trapped in hell together and that Mattoc wouldn’t talk about it. Was this why Warthor tried to bring me back? Was all that garbage about stopping Manaka, just that? Garbage?
Was that the real reason he moved heaven and earth, literally? Was it because Dirge was trapped in hell and was too damn stubborn to leave her friend behind? Had that stubbornness, that devotion to Mattoc caused Warthor to risk unmaking the world?
Mitsoumi screamed and tore forward. His arm wrenched violently as he moved with the magic-charged strength of a Dioscuri. Sinew and bone snapped, his ravaged skin gave way, and blood spurted from his arm as his sword flashed through the air. The blade dug deeply into Warthor’s side and blood rained down on him, warm and wet. Mitsoumi called on his power and on the power of blood. That was his specialty, blood magic. He could weave tremendous spells with just a drop of his opponent’s blood and now he was covered in Warthor’s.
“Blacken all reality,” he cried. “Gram!”
Warthor faltered as Mitsoumi’s sword, Gram, exploded, sending waves of crimson shrapnel through Warthor’s body. Blood dripped from Warthor’s side, burning white hot and caustic in his veins. Warthor fell to his knees, his hands balled into fists as waves of pain wracked his body.
Warthor gritted his teeth, and his magic lashed out. I staggered under the enormity of it, under the sheer force Warthor was calling down. It quenched Mitsoumi’s power like a match in a thunderstorm and sent him tumbling, his useless arm tearing free of his body. Blood and bits of bone fountained outward in a spray that fast froze on the icy terrain.
The Lillim Callina Chronicles: Volumes 1-3 Page 36