“Give yourself over to us, our heart. Allow us your temple and we shall enact a great violence. We shall bring about a new world order, and give you what you seek— revenge.”Their voices soothe and stoke the burning anger in me all at once.
A tentacle rises towards my face, the soft glow hypnotising me as it presses into my forehead. Before my eyes, a pink light ruptures and the image before me is one of destruction. I stand in the throne room of the palace, my body dripping with the blood of my enemies. Tentacles slip in and out of my body as I raise the head of my husband high in offering.
The pink light flashes again and the vision changes. I am surrounded by creatures the likes of which I have never seen before. These monsters caress each other with care and love. My body sings with a new feeling as I watch them find pleasure and peace within the arms of their sisters. It’s only when they part that I see a figure emerge.
She is a goddess, her brown skin and eyes glistening as she approaches me. Her soft, round figure melds with the water, distorting her from me. Is that a hand reaching for me, or is it a tentacle? I want to hold onto both. The mirage before me ripples between that of a woman and that of tentacles until I can’t decipher which is more real, until I believe they are all the same being.
“Come to us, Orthia,” she pleads from the water. “Find me.”
“The missing part of our soul calls for you, Princess Orthia of Moorcri. She floats through the cosmos, waiting for the time we can rise from the abyss and be whole again. She waits for you to claim her as our soul’s mate so we three may be in one union. But first you must protect our power within your temple, use our abilities to gather the essences of beings to give us strength.”
If they wish for such a broken harbinger, then they shall have it if that is what it will take to get my revenge. I will gather their strength and do whatever it takes to bring them to our world.
“How will I know she is the one?” I ask.
“From this day forth, only the touch of your soulmates will bring comfort and pleasure.”
“Then so be it.”
The flint strikes again, this time burning brighter, and the pink light explodes. The tentacles around me quiver and press to my flesh. It is only then I feel the meat of my body, the broken skin and bones begin to meld together. As tentacles stitch me together again, I feel their own sharp edges mar my skin, etching into me the mark of this new beginning.
“When you strike, strike for us, our heart. Feed us and we shall grow.”
My body shakes with each step I take up to the palace. The bodies of guards still litter the hard-to-reach areas, and blood stains the mosaic beneath my bare feet. There are men shouting ahead of me, barking commands as someone softly cries out. My nostrils flare as I allow the rage into my lungs. I grab an abandoned sword from the ground and let the heavy tip drag across the floor until I reach the crowd of soldiers, unafraid of them, of death.
In the centre of the circle is an abused child, covered in lashes and bruises. He covers his face to protect himself, but the short whip still connects.
“You.” My voice wobbles like I have forgotten how to form the words. They turn at the wretched sound of my voice, and they all blanch with fear. “May you suffer in the afterlife.”
Unable to wield the sword properly, tentacles crawl from under my skin, down my arm, and wrap around the hilt of the sword as I swing against the first guard. I’ve never done this before. The pink glow coming from my skin is nearly blinding as I lash out at these despicable people. Every time they swing at me, the pain only makes my fury hotter. My blood sings with each screech, when my blade sinks into their necks and a surge of power crashes through my body like a great wave. With each kill, it feels like I am absorbing their life force.
Only when there is just the child and I left, do the tentacles ease into my body once more. Brutalised remains surround us, staining our skin until we appear like red monsters. I stumble to the child and realise he is praying.
“There are no gods,” I say, bundling them into my chest. He cries out and thrashes against my hold, but I don’t let him go even as chills wrack my body.
“There is only Love,”the ancient beast’s voice rumbles in my head. Tears spill down my cheek as my being vibrates.
“There is only Love,” I repeat, carrying the boy down to the docks with me.
There are no people along the way. No one is at the market today, yet I feel them, eyes watching and shadows shifting. I settle us into a merchant ship, the men aboard scattering as I begin to pull up the ropes and loosen the sail. The boy lies curled up at the mast. It is only once we are far out at sea that I help him clean himself.
Salty water burns the skin, but it cleans the wounds. I don’t recognise him from the palace, but I am not sure I would have. His eyes are a startling shade of blue, his hair dark. It is a face I will never forget now.
We dress in clothes meant for trading with a nearby island, and I tuck him into a bedroll below deck. I stare off into the setting sun, the island I have called home my whole life before me, growing smaller the further we sail.
“Devour it,” I command, calling forth all the power I have collected on my rampage.
The world shakes, and the water beneath the ship jitters. Giant teal tentacles burst from the ocean and attack. There is no scent of blood now, no screaming for mercy, simply the soft destruction of a home that ruined me. The pink glow of Love’s power mixes with that of the horizon. It’s a beautiful sight as my world blurs and I collapse.
Chapter two
Orthia
342 Days
Itisalwaysthecannon fire, the smoke, the damned splintering of a ship’s mast that sailors talk about if they survive a fight at sea. Shaken and weary, they will make port and head straight for the nearest tavern to drown their emotions in cheap alcohol. They never talk about the silence that follows, how normal the waves sound lapping up the sides of the victor’s vessel. If they survived, they certainly don’t talk about the whimpering men who beg for their lives.
That is the sweet siren song to my ears that I crave before I feed my Love.
