“Too stubborn,” I mutter.
I start walking. If the realm reacts to intent, then I am feeding the barrier.
I stop and force my shadows to retract, pulling them back under my skin until I am nothing but a man standing in a greyvoid. It goes against every instinct I possess. I want to tear this construct apart until I find her, but that desire is exactly what keeps me trapped.
Nyssa wants space. She wants to be alone. If I chase her, the realm interprets me as an intruder and thickens the walls.
I turn my back on the direction Ifeelshe went.
The grey mist shudders. It thins, revealing a patch of black floor ahead.
“Finally,” I mutter.
I take a step, and the fog parts further. A figure sits on the ground a few metres away, weeping into a puddle of their own making.
“Pool,” I say, stepping closer. “Get up.”
The goddess of Water looks up, eyes rimmed with red. “It’s endless. There is no way out.”
“There is always a way out. You just lack the spine to find it.”
I grab Pool by the arm and haul her to her feet. She is damp and trembling.
“Walk,” I order. “Don’t think about the Queen. Think about anything else.”
She sniffs but obeys. We walk. The fog retreats. Nyssa’s anger is a formidable thing, but my patience is older. There has to be a way to find her without thinking about her.
We walk in silence. Pool sniffs every few seconds. It irritates me, but I stay silent, trying not to think about Nyssa.
The fog hates my indifference. It tries to throw images of Nyssa at me, but I push them away and turn adjacent at random to where it is trying to make me go.
“You are a fucking arsehole,” I grit out.
“Hey,” Pool snaps. “I didn’t do anything.”
“Not you,” I groan, shaking my head.
“What is going on here?” she asks after a beat. “Why were we called back? Why is there a new Wraith Queen? Why is there anew goddess of the realm? Who is she, really, this slayer? Why are we walking around in this fog?”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake. Why are you asking so many questions?”
“I want to know what is going on.”
Okay, well, that’s fair, I suppose.
From the top. “Aethel is dead,” I state, keeping my strides long and purposeful. “She finally managed to get herself killed, leaving the throne empty.”
Pool gasps, nearly tripping over her own feet. “But she was...”
“Tyrannical? Yes. Immortal? Clearly not.” I step over a fracture in the obsidian floor. “The slayer, Nyssa Vale, killed her. But instead of just ending the reign, it… passed on. She was chosen by the Radiant power. To add to that, the Wraith Crown chose her. It braided itself into her soul.”
“This is crazy,” Pool whispers, hurrying to keep up with me.
“Quite. Now she holds the light and the shadow. She is the true ruler of the Pantheon.” I glance at the grey mist swirling to my left. It looks less dense now, responding to my detachment. “With Aethel gone, the Devourer saw an opportunity to finally complete its mission to consume the universe.”
“And us?”
“You are necessary,” I state flatly. “It called you back because this realm is incomplete without you. More will return if they answer the call. In the meantime, I believe we are safe from consumption.”
