There were six witches surrounding Ilona’s blood-soaked bed. Her face was far too pale, her stomach still distended. Nymiria called to her power, following sheer instinct as she cast it over the weakened body on the bed. The soul looked like a white mist speckled with the tiniest flakes of stardust. It hovered over Ilona’s body, still tethered. Above it, as large as Nymiria’s arm, was a hazy black funnel that led to nowhere. The funnel descended upon her soul, only to retract again once it drew too close.
Death, she realized.
Aziel still did not look at her, but he also didn’t hover and bask in his guilt. He set to work almost immediately, grabbing towels and bowls filled with warm water. His conversation with the other witches was a distant hum in her ears, her entire focus centered on that white cloud of life.
She hadn’t read anything on how to return a soul to its rightful place. And she knew very little about how to save a life that was already in this state of transition. Nymiria moved to the top of the bed, being sure to steer clear of Aziel and what he was doing. He was pushing against Ilona’s stomach, pressing down in different directions hard enough to elicit low moans from the woman’s body.
“Ilona,” Nymiria whispered, pressing her hand against the woman’s forehead. Her skin was cold and clammy, her eyes half-closed as they slowly turned in Nymiria’s direction. “Hello, old friend.”
Ilona gave a weak smile, but her expression quickly transitioned from joy, to pain, and then to fear. “Y-you look like you descended from the ether.” She said weakly. “You are so beautiful.” Nymiria nodded, letting Ilona talk. Though majority of her words were garbled nonsense, it was best to keep her talking—to keep her present. As long as she was conscious, she had the ability to fight.
She could see the soul trying to merge back into Ilona’s body, but the body was far too weak to allow it. “Are any of you healers?” Nymiria asked over Ilona’s nonsensical whispering. Three of the witches shook their heads, but there was one in the back that was still. She was young, her face still rounded with youth. Nymiria eyed her. “What is your hesitation?”
The girl glanced around at her coven, fingers trembling as they curled into fists. “I-I don’t have much practice.” She confessed, looking close to tears. “I’ve only ever practiced on animals.”
“That should be good enough.” Nymiria waved her over and though the girl was evidently unsure, she still moved forward. She came to stand beside Nymiria, eyes going wide when the young goddess took her hand and placed it over Ilona’s heart. “She has lost a lot of blood and her heart is growing weaker. We need to keep it beating.” The girl nodded, flattening her palms against Ilona’s chest. Nymiria shifted her weight, positioning herself between the black funnel and Ilona’s vulnerable soul.
“It’s a Soul Eater.” Aziel said. Nymiria’s heart stuttered, panic twisting in her gut when she looked up and saw him between Ilona’s legs, his arms drenched with blood. “Don’t look at me.Focus.”
It was a blur of blood and white mist. Nymiria focused on the soul, pushing her magic against it—trying to force what remained of it back into Ilona’s body.
Help me. Please, if anyone is listening, help me.
Nymiria pushed with all of her might, sweat forming at her brow. Her body flared with Life, the light from within now filling the cabin.
“Good!” Aziel’s voice was calming, breaking into her worried thoughts. “Keep your focus, love. It’s almost over.”
With her instinct being her only guide, Nymiria turned to the Soul Eater, letting her magic flow from her core to the tips of herfingers. She shoved. Again and again, she shoved her magic in its direction.
Nymiria tried not to think of this creature as being a part of Aziel. She tried not to think of this as a battle withhim,but rather something else. Something completely separate from his realm of power. She could feel his desperation, the anger radiating off of him and the absolute helplessness he felt. He was doing everything he could to combat his own power, but he could not interfere. It was up to her—shehad to be the one to do it.
“I’ve got her!” Aziel called out.
A small cry filled the air, but Nymiria was still trying to fight the creature off. It moved wildly against her light, wailing and screaming as if being burned. Looking into the face of it, its maw unhinged, she saw rows and rows of what should have been teeth…
But were faces.
White skull-like faces with open mouths, all of them screaming, all of them with bloated tongues and bulging eyes.
She could not stop the scream that escaped her. Still, as everyone behind her rushed around the room, she held strong. She tried to shove away the fear she felt looking at the face of death—tried not to think of howthismight be the last thing that any of her loved ones saw.
“Vellana! Get down here and stop the bleeding!” Someone shouted.
The Soul Eater pushed harder against her magic, sending a heat through Nymiria’s arms that almost made her recoil in pain.
“Hurry!” Nymiria cried. “I can’t hold it off much longer!” Between the sounds that came from the creature, the yelling of those around her, and the infantile cries that filled the air, Nymiria’s hold on her power was starting to weaken. Everymuscle in her body felt as if they were on fire and stabbing pulses of pain shot through her skull. She released another yell of frustration, her light now so blinding that even with her eyes closed, she could see it.
And then…
Quiet.
No longer able to withstand the weight of her body, Nymiria’s knees buckled. She collapsed onto the floor with gentle hands already pressing cool rags to her hypersensitive skin. When she opened her eyes, one of the young witches was in front of her, her young face filled with a mixture of awe and fear.
“I can’t believe it.” The girl said in a frantic whisper. “I can’t believe it. Y-you… you’re the Anam. You’re agoddess.” She was gripping Nymiria’s hand now, stuffing any sort of offering she had available into her palm. “Take this. Take them. Oh, gods!” Tears spilled down her cheeks as she threw herself into Nymiria’s arms.
Stunned and weak, she could do nothing but pat the girl’s side. “It’s alright.” She said. “Save your offerings. I was just,” she hissed, muscles protesting as she adjusted herself into a more comfortable position. “I was just returning a favor.”
The girl pulled away, still mumbling prayers that rang in the recesses of Nymiria’s mind. She gave the girl a small smile, awkwardly patting her hand before pulling herself up on the edge of the bed.
