“The work I’m doing could be viewed as beautiful. Giving bodies to spirits who have forgotten what it’s like to exist in the realm of the living.”
“But you’re not doing that. You’re not really doing anything of the sort. What you’re creating won’t last; you’re simply creating an army that the Darkest Lord can use against us. Do you know if that’s even something these spirits desire?”
“What spirit banished to the underworld wouldevergive up the chance to enter the realm of the living? Via any way possible? Sacrifices must be made to achieve great things.”
“I don’t know, but I do know that the spirits I interacted with today were relieved to be free from here. They willingly went through the portal, knowing they’d never enter the land of the living again. Some things are not worth the sacrifice.”
The man clucked his tongue against his teeth. It struck me the way his characteristics seemed more human than the other spirits that surrounded us. Like he wasn’t a spirit exactly, or hewas so new here he hadn’t yet forgotten the ways of the living realm.
So much in the underworld was lifeless. Devoid of the simple things one takes for granted as a living, breathing person. The only real sign of life I’d seen down here were glimmers in the eyes of the spirits as they passed through the portal.
As if they’d started to remember that there were existences away from this place, and that finally, they might get the chance to experience something beyond the dark snares that entrapped them here. The rest of the underworld was nothing more than a hollow echo of things I’d once loved. A dismal existence to be sure.
“Explain to me how the Darkest Lord plans to rule in the land of the living,ifhe were to ever be successful in taking control of our island,” I said. “Flesh-weaving can only get him so far. Spirits can’t exist in our realm for long.”
“Are you sure that’s true?” The man cocked his head, his hood slipping further down his face. “I can manufacture a body for the Darkest Lord to rule in. Will it be the same experience as being human? No, but who says he wants the same experience; maybe the one I can give him will be better. And that is why he will never forget my name.”
I shook my head in disbelief.
“What if the body I create for him is more powerful, stronger, indestructible?” he continued. “Your flesh is weak, your blood fickle, your heartbeat extinguishable at any second. All trappings of humanity. When he returns, he won’t have those trappings. He’ll be invincible.”
“Nobody’s invincible. The Fae Queens were powerful, and look what happened to them.”
“They weren’t invincible,” he scoffed. “Powerful, sure. But not the same thing. Too many emotions. Too much empathy.”
“Ah. Which isn’t a problem for you?”
“I’ve evolved. I’ve tried empathy, and where has it gotten me? Nowhere. Forgotten.”
“Just because I can’t remember you,” I said. “Isn’t a reflection onyou.I can’t remember much about my world anymore.”
“I don’t believe that. I believe the memories are still in there, at least for now. I just wasn’t important enough to make the cut.”
“How did you do it?” I asked. “How did you genetically alter the kraken and the crimson lycanthrope?”
“It’s all part of the flesh-weaving experience.” The man backed away from me, leaned against the iron bars on the cell. “I started small in my experimentation: I isolated the DNA, studied the genetics, broke it down to its simplest level. Then, slowly, I started making changes. Slowly reprogramming living creatures to suit me.”
“To suit you, or to suit him?”
“We worked closely on it together. The Darkest Lord will not forget my name.”
I cleared my throat. Shook my head again.
“Once I mastered the slight alterations to existing creatures, I started thinking bigger. I worked toward manufacturing entire bodies, entire vessels that needed only a spirit. Which is a match made in the underworld. After all, he is the king of lost spirits.”
“You’ve chosen your side, then.” I paused. “It’s still not too late. If you help me out of here, back to the realm of the living, I am willing to help you in return. I can open a portal for you, or find a better place for you to exist. A place where you won’t be forgotten. A place where you can do your own work, not work suited solely to him.”
“I’ve already chosen the winning side. And I think you know this too.” He cocked his head up, ever so slightly. “If you thought you could win this war, you wouldn’t have sacrificed your soul to enter the underworld. You’re desperate.”
He wasn’t wrong about the desperation, so I said nothing.
“Alas, I’ve had enough of this conversation.” He straightened, no longer leaning against the grimy bars. “You’ll wait here until your memories cease to exist. Then, once he’s decided how he’d like to use you, I’ll return. It won’t take long. Once we’ve disposed of you, he’ll march on and take the rest.”
“No!” I extended a hand toward him, just as his figure shimmered and he began to disappear. “It’s not too late to help me.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Alessia,” he said, his figure barely visible. “Itistoo late. I’ve made sure of it.”
The man left me then—alone, in this cold, forgotten chamber, in the depths of the underworld. The second he was gone, I felt any lingering hope I possessed slipping away. I was well and truly alone now, trapped in the underworld, the outcome that everyone had cautioned me could happen—an outcome I’d promptly ignored because I believed it would never happen.
