She let it all be washed clean. The sorrow, the rage, the memories…until there was nothing left.
When her eyes finally opened, Thanatos was still clutching her, shouting her name, his face pale with panic; Kage stood frozen, his expression carved from fear.
But the woman they looked upon was no longer the one they had known.
No.
This one bore black witch-runes carved into her arms, and purple smoke coiled, alive and hungry, around her fingers.
This woman felt nothing.
Mal Blackburn was gone.
And in her place stood a God-Killer.
I tried to stop him. For years, I fought in silence and shadow to keep Hades from forging what should never exist. A God-Killer. I pleaded, I warned, I reasoned. But he never saw the truth as I did. That the creation of such a thing would mark the unravelling of everything. The gods. The kingdoms. The very fabric of the world itself. But Hades never cared for consequence.
Because Hades has only ever longed for one thing.
To break the curse that chains his fate to mine.
Tabitha Wysteria
Kage stared at his sister as she rose, her hands etched with black runes that crawled like living ink, her fingertips aglow with sparks of purple smoke. Yet it was her eyes that made him falter, taking an instinctive step back. They were still the same shade of amethyst he had known all his life, and yet… they blazed now, filled with a power so alien it was as though a stranger peered back at him from behind them.
Mal Blackburn had always been dangerous, a blade honed by years of unrelenting training. But this woman… this being standing before them now, she was something else entirely. Something that could shatter kingdoms with a flick of her wrist, that could unmake the world in the space of a heartbeat.
‘Mal…’ Kage reached out for her, desperate to anchor her, to call her back to herself. But Thanatos stepped between them, a silent guardian, his dark eyes flashing a wordless warning.
‘Leave her be. For now.’ His voice was tight, carved from stone.
Kage hesitated as Mal tilted her head, as though scenting something only she could sense, her attention swivelling towards the distant silhouette of the castle.
From that same direction, Allegra appeared, her steps quick and urgent, halting as soon as she laid eyes on Mal. At her side bounded an enormous white wolf, its pelt glistening like frost beneath pale light. The moment the beast saw Kage, it rushed to him with a delighted bound, nuzzling his hand when he raised it to stroke its proud snout.
But then the wolf turned, drawn instinctively to Mal. It padded to her side, pressing against her palm as though claiming allegiance. Mal’s hand rested upon its flank, yet her gaze was still fixed far away, on something unseen, something beyond.
And without a single glance back, Mal began to walk, the great white wolf trailing in her wake.
Kage made to follow, but Thanatos’ arm shot out, barring his way.
‘What happened?’ Allegra’s voice trembled, eyes wide and searching.
‘She became the God-Killer,’ Thanatos murmured, his tone carrying the weight of inevitability. ‘Her grief awoke the witch within her, and now…’ He trailed off, turning towards the path Mal had taken, as though he could still see the fading trace of her presence. A sigh escaped him, heavy as centuries, and he pinched the bridge of his nose as though trying to rub away the omen.
‘Does she remember who she is?’ Kage asked quietly, a rareflicker of fear in his voice.
Thanatos shook his head. ‘I do not know. They say that to hold such power is to invite corruption, that when a god becomes a God-Killer, they are no longer who they once were. Their mind is devoured, piece by piece, until only the hunger to slay gods remains.’
‘Mal is strong,’ Kage said, almost fiercely, as though speaking it aloud could will it to be true. ‘She will fight it.’
Thanatos gave a single nod, but doubt lingered in his dark eyes, unspoken and sharp as a blade.
Kage turned without another word and followed the path his sister had taken, ignoring Thanatos’ call to wait. He did not stop until he found her, standing before the looming gates of a castle, an uncanny twin to the wyverian stronghold they had once called home.
He moved to her side, uncertain if the woman standing there was truly his sister anymore, yet still he reached out and took her hand. The gesture felt strange, alien even, for it was not something he often offered. But he knew Mal. At least, he thought he did, and he knew she had always needed touch, that simple reassurance that she was not alone.
‘They have all lied to me,’ Mal said, her voice no longer the one he knew but something older, ancient and dreadful, yet hauntingly enthralling. She turned to look upon him, her eyes glowing a cold, soulless violet stripped of every warmth they once held. ‘I must kill them… all of them.’
