“Like your soul?” I asked, and he moved his head from side to side.
“More or less.”
“I understand why your children can access this place, but why can Torin and I? Why am I a godling? I don’t carry any of the Original Magic that Solace and Kaos do.”
“Oh, my Child, but you do. You and that boy are the only beings left that have the ability to stop Kaos and Solace, the only ones with even a drop of Original Magic in yourveins. After all, only a god can kill a god.” Fate spat, and I recoiled slightly at the volatile emotion.
The Bondsmith sighed and shook her head at her father. “We need to get you back to your chair. Kaos has been walking here more often lately, and in your current state, he could eliminate you with ease. You’ve seen her—she’s alive, it’s time to return now.”
Fate sighed but gestured tiredly to the Bondsmith, who gripped his arm in a way that was almost tender.
“Wait!” I called.
Fate and the Bondsmith paused, tossing identical looks of annoyed intrigue over their shoulders.
Like father, like daughter.
“That’s . . . it? What if Kaos comes for me?” I felt no pull in my chest, nothing that would indicate my physical body was waking up.
“That’s it, godling. Fate needed to ensure you were alive, and I made a promise to Torin to watch over you. Like I told him, you’ll wake when you’re ready,” she said with a small shrug.
“What if Kaos comes for me?” I reiterated my question, and the Bondsmith shot me a smile full of secrets.
“Oh, he will,” was all she said. I froze, my heart rapidly pounding against my chest in anticipation and a slight dose of fear, even though the deities seemed completely nonplussed by the idea of Kaos finding me here. “You’re not the one he wants to kill,” the Bondsmith added before half-dragging, half-carrying Fate back toward the mountain’s base.
I stood stock-still, mouth agape, as I watched their receding forms. Just as I could barely make out their silhouettes in the distance, I heard the whisper of Fate’s voice in the unnaturally still air.
“Welcome to the end of the world, my Child.”
Chapter Eight
Kaos
“Welcome to the end of the world, my Child.”
Fate’s words echoed throughout Meru, bouncing around in my skull, mocking me with every step I took over the dried and cracked earth. I knew with nothing short of complete certainty that this truly was the end of the world; my sister and I had brought about the Second Sundering, the final battle for Elyria, and control of the cosmos was imminent.
Iknewit was the end of the world, but the words were still ominous, especially coming from an immortal being older than time itself.
A shudder worked its way from my head to my toes, causing the hair on the back of my neck to stand on end, as if I was struck by a bolt of lightning. Inadvertently, my gaze flung heavenward, and my nose wrinkled at the sheer wrongness of the sky. Magic was frozen, vibrating and writhing in place, but unable to release from its prison. I knewexactlyhow the magic felt—restless yet restrained.
It wasn’t supposed to be this way, none of it was. The gods were supposed to wander Elyria, interact with our descendants, and aid the mortals. Free yet contained.
Likewise, the magic in the sky was supposed to have the same constraints—able to touch Meru and bestow blessings upon creation.
We—Solace and I—had stolen that from Meru eons ago, and my heart thundered at the consequences we’d inevitably reap for our actions, at the vengeance Meru would exact once the Original Magic was returned to its rightful home.
I pushed my shoulders away from my ears, easing the tension from my taut muscles, and pulled my eyes from the sky in the same motion.
Thunder rumbled in the distance, behind the cracked peak of Meru’s sole mountain,and it felt like Fate was laughing mirthlessly. My mind instantly refocused on my father’s warning, mulling his words over in my mind as I shook myself from my reverie and approached the thin, pale figure silhouetted against the darkened skies.
The most unnerving part was that I couldn’t discern if Fate’s warning was directed at me or the blonde creature watching him fade into the distance, hands perched on her narrow hips. I supposed it really didn’t matter; we both heard it if Ellowyn’s furrowed brow and horribly abused lip were any markers.
I cocked my head as I watched her, hidden between a few of the dead trees, their leafless branches providing enough cover that I could melt into the background well enough. She huffed a few times and scuffed her boot against the dry ground, creating little puffs of dust that clung to her disgustingly dirty pants.
The woman standing before me today was unlike anything I’d ever seen before; she was beautiful in a haunted way that was only accentuated by the blood and gore that covered nearly every inch of her.
Why had no one washed her? Was no one caring for her?I mentally sneered at the errant, soft thought. I couldn’t afford to feel something beyond mild apathetic wonder for Ellowyn d’Refan.
