“Vision,” they mutter back.
“Well, I’ll be damned, I did not expect that to work, thank you,” I reply out loud because no one can fucking hear me anyway, and I’m surprised that the Voices answered me.
I probably would have replied out loud even if I weren’t floating in darkness.
However, when nothing happens for another five minutes, I start to question whether the Voices are messing with me or not, because nothing is happening. The Voices, of course, neither confirm nor deny that they are indeed messing with me, although the collective tone of their usual muttering does seem amused at the suggestion. Whether that’s because they are messing with me or because they just think the idea is funny, I don’t know.
I’m about to call on my magic because it temporarily escaped my memory that I had magic that I could use to help me in this situation, but before I can, I hear a voice. I’m still in the dark, but at least I can hear something now.
Chapter Three
Neith
“It’s getting worse.”
“Ever since they put the ban in place, things have been changing for the worse,” someone says, disgust in their tone.
Yet another different voice speaks. “They’ve done something, I don’t know what, but the knowledge is disappearing, and what knowledge that remains is being warped and twisted. Those that never would have feared us before are now terrified, and in their terror, they’re hunting us.”
“Our numbers have dwindled to almost nothing, and there are no new babies. There are only the three of us.”
“They are eradicating us, and changing history so it's as if we never existed.”
“And if they succeed, the world as we know it will end.”
Suddenly, the talking stops, and a loud bang that sounds like a door being kicked open echoes throughout the darkness.
“You may think that you have won, but one day we will return, and that will be the beginning of your end!” One of the voices who spoke moments ago shouts.
The sounds of fighting echo around me, and I have the desperate urge to help, to fight alongside them, but I’m stranded, stuck in the darkness, and just a witness to the violent end.
The end of an entire species of supernatural.
“What about what he said?” Someone asks when the deed is done, and the silence that remains is heavy.
“It is impossible, the spell prevents anyone from being able to . . .” the voice becomes muffled, and then suddenly clear again, “the knowledge has been taken from the mind of every supernatural in all of the realms. They don’t exist anymore. They are an impossibility.”
“All of the realms?” The person questions. “How?”
“When he wants something done, it is done,” the guy replies simply.
The way he said ‘he’ with reverence and a good amount of fear tells me that the person that they are referring to is powerful. I mean, that much is clear from the simple fact that he is the obvious mastermind behind destroying an entire species.
“Did they all need to die?” The other one asks again, there’s the unmistakable note of unease and regret in his tone. He didn’t agree with what’s been done, that much is obvious.
There’s the unmistakable sound of a sword slicing through the air and a thud as a head hits the floor.
“Let this be a lesson to all of you!” The person who I’m assuming is the commander shouts, “It doesn’t matter who you are, if you question Him, your life is forfeit.” He adds quietly, with only a hint of regret, “Even if you are my brother.”
I gasp.
This motherfucker just beheaded his own brother in order to protect this He, whoever the fuck He is.
I don’t know why, but instinct is telling me that what I’m listening to is something that happened in the past, not something that is going to happen. I also don’t know why I’m being shown this, but I have to believe that it’s for a reason.
Unless, of course, I’m seeing a memory from the circle. There is a lot of blood soaked into these stones, and it wouldn’t surprise me if the memory of the violence has created such a strong impression that somehow my magic has triggered the memory.
Maybe it’s a part of the death magic that the Choosing gave me, or maybe it's just my normal magic.
