Nymiria's eyes fell to her sliced palm and then to the God Stone that rested inches away from her. She hesitated, heart pounding as the anger inside of her steadily became more and more unbearable. She wanted to scream, to release the pressure in her veins and unleash the ache inside of her unto the world.
The painting on Aziel's wall, the one of Greia walking through a bed of moonflowers filled her vision. But Greia was not in the painting. She was right in front of her. Standing at her bedside.
"The time has come, Nymiria. You must seal your fate now. Touch the stone."She was but an apparition, her skin translucent, but still visible. It was not like the times she'd seen Owen, when he was but a full embodiment of her own imagination. No—this was arealghost. A spirit of the goddess she'd declared her loyalty to as a mere child."I have watched you endure far too much pain whilewaiting for you. I cannot hold on to this plane any longer, my love. Ineedyou. The world needs you.Heneeds you."
Nymiria let out a cry of relief the moment her hand gripped the cold stone. She pressed it into her bleeding palm as hard as she possibly could, her cry turning into a guttural scream of rage and sadness that'd been trapped inside of her, unable to find release for years.
At the other side of the bed, Desi reached for Phyona, ripping her away from Nymiria's wounds just as a bright white light filled the room. It formed at the place where Nymiria held the stone, her blood turning silver as they spilled through the intricate runes, and flaring brighter and brighter until Desi and Phyona were left with no other option than to shield their eyes.
The crows at Aziel's window were cawing again, clapping their beaks together and flapping their wings. But it was not in warning, she realized. Not this time. It was in celebration.
Slowly, the light began to recede. It moved back into her as her screams turned to breathless pants, her brow beaded with sweat. Nymiria still gripped the God Stone, looking over the silver markings that were once so weathered she couldn't make out what they were. She drew in a ragged breath, wincing at the feeling of her back slowly stitching itself back together, before carefully pushing herself off the mattress just enough to look at the two females huddled into each other at the other side of the room.
"That fuckinghurt." She wheezed.
His healing abilities had returned.
In the matter of time it took for Trio to block all of the doors with his shadows, Aziel was already pulling himself to his feet and staring through the wall of shadows at the angered queen. Her world looked as if it had ended, her eyes wide and her lips parted as she slowly staggered away from the wall. She backed herselfinto her throne, nearly missing the seat by a few inches, but was quick enough to catch herself on the gilded arm.
By this time, his father was cold and unconscious on the floor, but Aziel didn't care. He wasn't dead, but even if he was, there would not be a single ounce of remorse felt for that plump corpse that was still bleeding all over himself. Aziel merely stepped over him as if he were nothing, not even sparing him a glance as the wall of shadows parted for him and gave way to a clear path to Camalia's throne.
"A god." She humphed. She didn’t seem to be afraid, if one took things at face-value, but Aziel could feel her heart begin to race. He could feel her squirming as he lifted his hand and commanded his rotting roots to wrap around her body, securing her to her seat.
She did not fidget. She did not whimper, nor did she whine. Calm on the surface, but inside, she knew this was the end.
“You have nothing to say for yourself?” Aziel asked. “No final words you would like to share with all of your loyal subjects?”
Camalia scoffed and rolled her eyes. “As if they deserve to hear my final words. They’re nothing, but leeches.” Her gaze narrowed, sharp and tactical, before she spoke again. “Though I do have a final request.”
Gods, he wanted to rip her tongue from her mouth. He wanted to end it all right here. But Aziel had spent the greater part of ten years planning this very moment. He’d dreamed of the ways he would ruin her—how he would torture her. Not in the same ways she’d tormented him, but bringing her pain would be close enough, and he wanted her pain to last. Hours, days, months—he hadn’t quite determined that part just yet, but this was only the beginning.
With the roll of his aching shoulders, Aziel released a tired sigh. “And what is that, exactly?”
“I want to see her.” Camalia’s finger stroked along one of Aziel’s roots. Though he could not feel it physically, it was simply the action that had him clenching his jaw and fisting his hands. “The Anam. I want to see her.”
At hearing those words, Aziel turned on his heel, preparing to descend the stairs of the dais. “Request denied.” He stated blandly. The audience watched him walk down the aisle, eyeing him with the same fear that they’d always revered him with. They trembled in his clutches.
When he began testing the doors to see if Trio’s shadows were strong enough, he heard Camalia let out a noise of discomfort. “You're being selfish, Aziel.” She puffed a breath of air from her mouth to move an unruly brown curl from in front of her face.
He moved to the next door, tugging at the handles before turning to another. “Am I?”
“Don’t play games with me, you little brat. You forget that I know who you are. I know whatsheis to you. I know everything. Even if you kill me now, there will still be hell to pay for you and for all of those precious little Mystics you helped escape from those camps.” This drew his attention. His body went still, his hand hovering over the golden handle to the last door. Upon seeing him go rigid, Camalia grinned once again. “You think that I didn’t know? Who do you think told your father about your secret missions and your lies? It wasme. I hoped you would have been smarter about it, but it seems as if that pretty little goddess of yours has caused you to become rather sloppy in your work.”
Aziel turned to face her, eyes cold as ice as he looked her over. “You’re lying. There is no way you could have known.”
“Now,” she chuckled. “Thatis the lie. Of course there is always a way for me to know anything. Seeing as I am not only the queen of Yaar, but also the Witch Queen, there are people out there who are willing to do anything for me for the right price. You, of all people, should knowthat. You’ve been whoring yourself to me for ten years!”
It seemed as though it was time to share truths. Though Aziel was unashamed of all he’d done to protect Nymiria, he couldn’t fight the disgust he felt at hearing those words aloud, at seeing the faces of those around him watching all of thisunfurl like it was some grandiose stage performance and not the object of all of his nightmares.
“I have a truth for you, Camalia.” Aziel’s voice had dropped a few octaves. It was deep and dangerous, sending a chill up his own spine when he heard the sound of it. “As The Mortem, there are many privileges that I have in the Otherworld. One of those being that I get to see every single soul that passes through those planes. Whether they are going into the ether, to the pits, or to the plane of lost souls, I see them all. Not only that, but I know every name—I know every crime, every detail of every life.”
Aziel began walking across the floor, stepping over Dorid once again, before climbing the stairs. He stopped in front of her, hands secured behind his back as he looked down his nose at her. She was confused, but she was also frightened.
Good.
“I stumbled across something after speaking to your son the other evening. You see, he said something very interesting to me about how he believed that you’d either become possessed or that you were not who you said you were.” He explained. “So I did some research. I scoured every catalog of names in the Otherworld, and do you know what I found?” When Camalia didn’t react, he leaned forward. “Guess.” He whispered.
The queen shrugged, eyes darting to all of the shocked faces staring back at her. “I’m… I’m not sure. It could be anything.”
