The shorter guard sighed. “Just for a few minutes. I need some fresh air.”
Soon the echo of their footsteps subsided, and all that remained was silence.
And in that dark, dank cavern in the depths of Hell, the boy-god dreamed of love.
1
Before
The woods are quiet this time of year, devoid of birds that have migrated to warmer regions to escape the harsh winter. Every footstep magnifies in the silence.
Four walks on, a lonely god in a mortal world.
“I do not understand why you visit there so often, Brother,” Ten had said before Four left the underworld. “Mortals are nothing but ants at our feet, living their short, miserable lives in terror and stupidity. They are full of insatiable desires, wanting things they do not deserve or understand. And they do so without a shred of true curiosity, choosing only to possess or destroy.”
Four knew better than to argue; the Tenth King had never liked mortals. From Four’s own observations, the mortals lead interesting and meaningful lives. Weak and vulnerable, they suffer calamity and illness and pain from affairs of the heart, eventually fading in old age with broken bodies and minds. Yet they persevere, finding joy in the smallest of things, believing they can change their fates and transform their destinies. The mortals feel hatred and love, and it is the latter that Four is most curious about. It is said that the Kings were born without hearts, and whileFouris able toexperience a spectrum of emotions, love is one that only humans are blessed—and cursed—to feel.
His solitary stroll today is interrupted by distant shouts. Smoke curls in the air, sinister against the pale winter sky. He hesitates by the black pine trees. He wants to hurry forward, to help the mortals in need. But the ancient tenets warn that even the most fleeting disturbance to the balance between the realms could bring untold catastrophe.
Suddenly, a young woman appears amid the falling snow. Her blood-streaked robes billow as she runs past him in a flutter of purple. She remindshim of the beautiful wisterias that bloom in this realm, and as he watches her, it feels like he is seeing color for the first time.
Abruptly, she stops, her arms raised, a gleaming sword in each hand. She senses something.
Curiosity gets the better of him, and Four moves closer.
The young woman turns. And when their eyes meet, just for a moment, Four thinks he can hear something tremble in his hollow chest. He feels like he knows her somehow. From some other life or lifetimes ago. But that is impossible. He is a King of the underworld. Eternal, cold, alone.
He cannot look away from the young woman standing before him. Pleased that she holds his gaze, he senses she is equally fascinated.
There’s a noise.
The young woman spins to his side.
“Stay quiet,” she warns, her eyes trained on something ahead.
At first,Fouris confused. Then he sees the Revenant. A lost soul infected and cursed by the Blight. When mortals die, their remorse and all the pain and suffering from their mortal lives emit a negative energy. That energy is what the Blight feeds on, transforming those poor souls into terrible monsters craving theyangqi—light—they once had.
With war brewing at the edges of this kingdom, the Reapers from the underworld have had trouble with soul collections, resulting in an open feast for the Blight and an increase in Revenants.
Catching the scent of the young woman’s vibrantyangqi, the Revenant snarls, hungry, a forked tongue running over its drooling mouth.
Four wants to protect her. To use his power to get rid of the foul creature. But the rules of his world forbid any intervention. His hands ball into fists. Worlds be damned. He cannot—hewill not—let her die.
But before he can lift a finger, he sees the look in her eyes. She is relishing the fight to come.
“Don’t be afraid,” she says, barely sparing him a glance. “I’m here.”
The young woman launches into the air. Crimson light bursts from her dual swords, unfurling like petals of a blooming flower. Light reflectsagainst the falling snow, beautiful and warm.Magic.She must be a cultivator capable of exorcism.
His chest stirring,Fourwatches as she twirls gracefully in a dance of death. A glorious queen, he thinks. A Queen to his King. But he isn’t sure what that means or why he would even think it.
The young woman’s blades make quick work of the Revenant. The monster shrieks, and the awful sound reverberates through the forest. Shuddering, it disintegrates into vapor.
The young woman lands in a crouch. Rising slowly, she flicks her sword and sheathes it in one smooth motion. Her other sword stays in her hand as if she expects more danger to come. But her large dark eyes watch Four steadily like a trusting fawn as she strides back to him. A triumphant smile spreads across her face. A smile brighter than light.
Four’s knees buckle and hit the ice-cold ground. He feels a once-hardened emptiness in his chest soften. Feels alive for the first time in his existence.
Something burns.
