by Kova, Elise
The men began to run back toward them and Vi watched them sprint past. They regarded her with wary eyes, as though she was the blood of which Deneya spoke. The three were almost at the entrance to the Caverns when she rapid-fired, “Juth calt. Juth calt. Juth calt.”
One by one, they fell. The crystal sword clattered to the ground at the entrance, skittering away from the last man’s lifeless hands. The rest of the Knights had already fled down the mountainside and Vi doubted they would dare return for the sword. Especially not if she killed them first.
Vi took a step forward, ready to give chase.
“Enough.” Two strong arms wrapped around her like the thick ropes of a ship. Vi writhed against them and Deneya hoisted her upward. The pain in Vi’s arm seared in a way that almost felt delightful. “Enough!”
“I should’ve killed them ages ago when I had the chance.” Vi kicked her feet, trying to break free of Deneya’s hold. The woman was a rock behind her.
“But you didn’t because it’s not you,” Deneya shouted in her ear over Vi’s grunts and snarls. “You didn’t because you aren’t a cold-blooded murderer.”
“Clearly I am!” The darkness had finally overwhelmed her. Vi felt completely charred. Just when hope had begun to take root again, she burnt it away. Giving in was easier. “I am worse than them; I can be worse than all of them.”
“But you’re not. And you should never try to be.”
“This is what the world needs me to be.”
“The world needs compassion from its Champion, not killing. You can kill a thousand men, Vi, but their blood won’t quench that fire burning within you.”
Vi went still and pressed her eyes closed. Her head dipped and her chin nearly touched her chest as she hung limply. Deneya set her back down gingerly. When it was clear Vi wouldn’t fight any longer, she unraveled her arms.
“I don’t know what pain fuels your flames, but I can see you’re burning alive.”
Her head jerked upward and Vi stared, slack-jawed at the woman. She felt seen. For the first time in a long time, someone other than Taavin could see her. Really see her. It was terrifying and vulnerable, but in an oddly welcome way. Vi gave in to the sensation, leaning forward and pressing her forehead against Deneya’s uninjured shoulder.
“I wanted to save her,” Vi choked out. “I wanted to save her, and Zira, and I wanted to stop the Knights.”
“I know.” Deneya stroked her hair like a child. Like they weren’t awash in blood and surrounded by bodies. “But you protected the Caverns.”
“No…” Vi pulled away and looked to Fiera. “She did. Even though I was the Champion, she was the one who sealed the Caverns.” Vi staggered over and knelt down next to Fiera’s body. She tucked a stray strand of hair away from the woman’s face, thinking back to Zira. She hadn’t even given the woman a proper Rite of Sunset. “Help me?”
Deneya nodded and walked over. She first healed her shoulder and Vi’s arm, murmuring, “halleth ruta sot,” twice. Then she scooped up Fiera and brought the body out onto the cliff. The snow was churned up, rocks jutting out where footsteps had crunched through to the ground below.
“Set her there.” Vi pointed to a mostly clear area. “We’ll send her off at sunset.”
“What about the rest of them?” Deneya and Vi both turned back, looking at the carnage still littering the Caverns. “You can’t leave them be.”
“I could. They’re traitors and murderers.” Vi thought back to how Fiera had handled the traitors in the streets. What had been mere months ago now felt like years.
“All men deserve a proper sendoff. Even the worst among them,” Deneya insisted. Out of everything Vi had expected the woman to be for her, a moral compass wasn’t one of them.
Vi barely stopped herself from disagreeing. She wanted to. But the sentiment struck a chord with her—it sounded like something her mother would’ve said.
Vhalla Yarl, the woman Vi knew, was gone now. But every act she took was still a testament to her memory. That world was gone, save for what lived on in her. Was she becoming a woman her mother would be proud of?
“Pile them up off to the side. I’ll burn them all at once.” It was better than they deserved, a nagging voice told her in the back of her mind. But treating them like men, rather than meat, quieted the darkness that had consumed her and reminded Vi of her humanity. If only slightly.
Deneya carried the bodies from the deepest part of the Caverns. Vi couldn’t quite lift the men at the opening, but she could push them along with the careful use of kot sorre. By the afternoon, the bodies were all lined up in the snow, waiting to be burned.
Vi finally went over to where the sword had fallen. She stared at it for a long moment, as though all the blood that had fallen had been wrought by this singular blade. Finally, she hoisted it for the first time in what felt like an eternity.
The weapon shone brightly with power. The whole of the Crystal Caverns seemed to glow brighter for a moment as the hilt met her fingers.
This was the magic she had been expecting all along. The sword no longer felt thin and weak, but recharged with the essence of Yargen. The more pieces of Yargen’s power Vi drew together, the stronger they all became.
“Well, you have it and the Caverns are sealed… what now?” Deneya asked, sitting heavily with her back propped against the gaping archway.
“That’s an excellent question.” Vi twisted the sword in the light before setting it down carefully on a bed of crystals. “Narro hath hoolo.”
The magic spun out from her watch as it always had. But instead of being the usual orange-yellow glyph, this time it was a pale blue. Vi watched as Taavin was cut out from the empty air, color seeping into his outline before the magic vanished entirely. She watched as he blinked, focus coming to his eyes before he turned to her.
“Vi—” Taavin stopped himself mid-turn, frozen.
“Taavin?” Vi asked cautiously, taking a small step forward. The wind tousled his hair and Taavin shivered, as though he could feel the cold. As though he were—her hand closed around his. “Are you?”
“It’s the magic of the Caverns,” he murmured, pulling his eyes from the crystals surrounding them and looking to her. “It heightens everything.”
It makes you real, Vi wanted to say. She could feel the puffs of cool air that curled by her cheek. Vi searched his eyes, wanting to touch him all over. Wanting to savor this moment. But knowing it was not the time or place.
“You made it,” he continued, as if he wasn’t feeling the same ache she was. “And the sword?”
“Here.” Vi took a hasty step away and grabbed the sword. “And Raspian’s tomb has been sealed once more.”
“Sealed?”
“We can show you,” Vi offered.
As they walked back through the Caverns, Vi and Deneya gave him the quick run-down of everything that had transpired. Vi filled Taavin in on the conversation she’d had with Fiera. Deneya told him of her healing Fiera, and the woman’s determination to come and defend the Caverns—to right the wrongs of her forefathers.
The short walk to the sealed door wasn’t nearly enough time to cover everything. But they got through the broad strokes before Taavin’s focus was drawn elsewhere. He let out a gasp the moment he laid eyes on the door.
“What… what is this?” His confusion had never delighted her more.
“Rohko,” Vi said aloud. The word was as strong as a cornerstone, able to support the immense weight of a building without cracking. “Is this barrier… this word from the goddess, is it new?”
She hoped against hope, and Vi nearly let out an involuntary noise of relief when Taavin gave a small nod. He was still trying to consume the doorway with his eyes. It wasn’t enough; he slowly approached the doors, resting his fingertips lightly on the crystal barrier that seemed to have already grown thicker.
“You have the sword. The Knights didn’t get in. There’s a barrier,” he murmured, as if trying to keep it straight in his own head.
/> “I’m no expert at all this. But we did well, I think.” Deneya folded her arms over her chest.
“Only one thing will tell—” Taavin turned, looking down at Vi. “Have you peered forward yet?”
“Not yet.” She didn’t know if she was ready to. She didn’t know if her heart could take what she might see. If she saw a future of light, what did that mean for the rest of her time as a traveler in this world without a home of her own? If she saw a future of darkness… Did that mean the sacrifices made to get here had been for nothing?
“You have to,” Taavin said, as if he, too, was riding the tumultuous currents of her thoughts.
Neither of them wanted to hope. Ignorance would be kinder.
But the goddess hadn’t been kind to either of them when she’d given them this duty.
Vi held out the sword between two open palms and took a deep breath. She drew power from the Caverns—in through her feet, leeching it from the air like moisture to a plant. A blue flame erupted over the flat of the blade before her and Vi stared directly at it, her heart racing.
She wasn’t ready. But that didn’t matter. The world washed in white.
And all Vi could do was brace herself for the future.
Chapter Thirty-One
The light faded into darkness.
Vi blinked several times, looking around. Slowly, shapes came into focus. A thin, bright line of crimson circled the horizon perfectly. It continued in all directions. But Vi couldn’t tell if it was from an early dawn, about to break, or the last light of sunset vanishing from the world.
The color bled upward, casting the clouded depths of the sky in a bloody ombre. At the top, the clouds parted, the heavens had opened, and stars stretched to infinity. It was as though she stood on the top of the world. Everything stretched outward from this place where the earth and sky met.
A crack of red lightning struck from sky to ground. There, on the steaming rock, was the hulking, godly form of death and darkness incarnate. Raspian’s skin was red and shining, like a blood-filled ruby. From his skeletal visage to his writhing hair, Vi knew the face of death. He turned his eyes to her, snarling and baring his razor-sharp teeth.
Oddly, she wasn’t afraid.
She stood in a well of calm and strength. There was a prevailing sense of rightness with the world. Rightness at facing off against this wretched creature.
Once and for all.
Vi took a step forward without thinking. More like, the body she was in stepped forward. Most of her visions had Vi as an outside observer, but this time she was rooted in another form. A form that sprang wildflowers from barren earth with a single step.
A hand appeared in her field of vision—her hand, or the hand of the person she was in. Every color of the rainbow splashed across the woman’s body, brilliantly bright, deep and rich. The colors were so vibrant, Vi thought they’d sear into her eyes forever and make everything else seem dull.
Clutched in the woman’s hand was a blue staff.
The staff of the Champion.
Raspian tilted his head up to the sky and let out a cry that seemed to shake the earth itself. The woman braced herself, guarding against a shock-wave of magic that radiated out from the man. Vi tipped her head back and gaze skyward to see the moon had appeared in the center of the clouds. It was cracked, like an egg, a dark red yolk pouring at Raspian’s feet and collecting in the shape of a great dragon.
Still, the person Vi occupied didn’t panic. Though Vi certainly felt like she should.
As the dragon took its shape, cut from primordial essence, Raspian lifted his hand, pointing at the staff the woman still held outright.
“Let it be done,” he said without moving his jaw. The words seemed to resonate as thoughts, grating sharply in Vi’s mind. She wanted to wince, but she was subject to the vision before her.
She couldn’t turn away, even if she’d wanted to, as Raspian lunged for her. Lunged for the woman whom Vi knew at her core was Yargen herself.
Vi returned to the world with a sudden jolt, right as Raspian launched his first attack. The sword clattered to the ground as it slipped from her limp hands. Her arms swung at her sides and Vi staggered, forward and back. She gripped her head with one hand, her stomach with the other. The unnatural calm of Yargen had left her, and now Vi was filled with a panic that tasted like sickness.
“Vi.” Two hands on her shoulders. Stable, sturdy, warm, all the things she’d been missing for months. “What did you see?” Taavin asked softly.
She shook her head, leaning forward and pressing her face into his shoulder. Taking a deep breath, Vi inhaled the scent of him. Somehow, he still smelled faintly of the incense that burned in Risen a world away, and sunlight on a warm summer’s day. She missed those scents a painful amount.
“Vi, you need to—”
“Give her a moment, she’s been through enough,” Deneya snapped.
A soft huff of amusement slipped through Vi’s lips and Taavin’s arms closed around her. She let out a sigh. Let this embrace never end, Vi wished.
She did not pray. Because she knew what gods would be out there to hear her prayers. Vi didn’t want to leave her delicate wishes in either of their warring hands.
“Raspian is set free,” she finally whispered.
Taavin released her, almost pushing her back as though her words had burned him. He held her at arm’s length. As though with her, he could hold away her vision and prevent it from coming to pass.
“What?”
“Raspian is set free,” she repeated, louder. “He gains a physical form, I saw it.”
“I don’t understand.” Deneya took a step forward, physically inserting herself into their conversation. “We sealed the Caverns. You have the sword. How do they manipulate the tomb?”
“There are other crystal weapons. The crystals will never be safe,” Taavin muttered. His arms dropped to his sides and he slumped, swayed, righted himself, and then swayed again.
“No, they’ll never be safe on this land,” Vi agreed easily. Perhaps there was some of Yargen’s unnatural calm still in her. Or perhaps feeling Taavin there had given her a peace she’d long since given up on.
No matter what, they were opened. They couldn’t stop the Crystal Caverns from being destroyed, not even after ninety-three times. Not even after what had seemed like their best showing yet, despite all Vi’s shortcomings.
Vi slowly ascended the steps to the crystal-coated doors. She ran her hands along the stone. Feeling the deeply rooted magic within.
Destruction always reaped destruction.
“Maybe that’s it.”
“What is?” Deneya asked. Even Taavin stopped his murmuring.
Vi turned to face Taavin, bracing herself for what she already knew his reaction would be. “Maybe that’s been our error all along.”
“What has?” Taavin lowered his hand to look at her with his piercing green eyes.
“All these times, we’ve been trying to stop the Caverns from being opened, stop Raspian from being set free.”
“That is your job—to change the fate of the world and prevent that.”
“But what if there’s another way?” Vi asked. The words felt like blasphemy ignited by a spark of red lightning in the darkness. “I’m supposed to change fate, but keep enough the same that I’m reborn. I have to alter the outcome of events, but accept that some things will always happen. Don’t you think it sounds rather impossible?”
“If it were easy—”
“—we would’ve already done it, I know,” Vi finished hastily. “Think about it,” she implored him. “What was the problem in our world? What were we trying to stop?”
“The Crystal Caverns were destroyed and Raspian was set free.” Taavin played along.
“Now, think about it in a different way. Why was Raspian being set free a problem?” She’d talk him through it so he’d understand. So she could vet this mad idea that had overtaken her.
“Because he’s evil and darkness in
carnate.”
“Because Yargen couldn’t stop him, because her power was fractured by the crystal weapons being destroyed across time,” Vi corrected. “If Raspian was set free, but Yargen had all of her power, she could face him once more. It would be like every other war of light and dark through the ages.”
“Stop.” Taavin held up both his hands. “You’re thinking about letting Raspian be set free?”
“Yes. And I know how it sounds,” Vi added hastily. “But no matter what we’ve done, throughout the history of the Dark Isle, men have sought out the Crystal Caverns. They will continue to. Even if we’re successful, Yargen’s magic and Raspian’s tomb will never be safe as long as they’re within the reach of power-hungry people—here on the Dark Isle or anywhere else.
“What if, rather than stopping the Caverns from being opened, we focus instead on merely preserving Yargen’s power? We store it in the Caverns. We allow the crystal weapons to be brought here as time dictates so a new Champion can be reborn, just in case I’m wrong.”
Taavin nodded approvingly at that sentiment.
“We preserve the events that must happen to see a new Champion born. We allow the crystal weapons to come here, and allow the people of this world to think they’ve been destroyed. On the surface, it will all look the same—or same enough. But we’ll hold the ace. We’ll transfer the power from the crystal weapons into the Caverns, rather than allow them to be destroyed.”
“Can you do that?” Deneya asked skeptically.
“With enough time to practice.” Vi lifted her hand off the crystals, feeling the way the magic clung to her. She’d seen Fiera work to manipulate the crystals. She’d already begun exploring the notion herself before that.
“So we allow time to progress, ensure that all the stones in the river and Apexes of Fate are attended to, to see a new Champion reborn,” Taavin started, somewhat hesitantly. “But when the weapons are brought here, throughout time, you’ll transfer their power to the Caverns?”
“Yes.” Vi knew what she was about to say next would be the hardest for them to swallow. “Then, when all of her power is here, we will be the ones to open the Caverns, properly.”