Light of the Heavens

XXIX. Missing

You desired it.

Vassa struggled to breathe, sprawled on the stone floor of the Sanctum. The orb, the galaxy within alive with an inner fire, seemed to loom over her from its stand on the table. It wasn't exertion. A mixture of echoes of old pain and a sudden, crippling fear clenched the muscles in her body until she quaked.

You asked me for every punishment, Lysaerys's voice whispered in her ear. You begged me for every caress.

Memories flashed unbidden behind Vassa's eyes, times where Lysaerys had broken her so thoroughly that her body could take no more, that her spirit was alive in name only. She knew distantly it was the orb provoking the memories, stirring them up like hot coals. The masked woman forced herself to push the thoughts away. "It does not matter. It is over and done. It cannot be changed," she whispered to herself.

The harder she tried to lock everything away in some dark recess of her mind, the more powerful the visions became. The smell of blood was everywhere, the taste of wet copper filling her mouth. Everything in Vassa wanted to weep and plead for it to stop or to wretch and be sick. That taste was always mingled with humiliation and anguish. The only thing worse was the feeling of those freezing cold fingers stroking through her hair like she was some pet.

"Why are you doing this to me?" she hissed, looking up at the orb, focusing through the visions.

The phylactery's response was cool, no hint of the warmth that had once been the Life-Giver. Where once she was the loving earth mother, this echo of her seemed a cold dealer in Fate. M'ethvantai, the Devouring Dark, is drawn to more than just magic. It cultivates the darkness within a soul and feeds upon it, drawing power from pain and cruelty. It can appeal to the shadow-self, those most damaged parts of you. That little trinket of yours cannot save you from its seduction.

Vassa glanced at the bracelet of mind-shielding she wore. She'd hoped that it would offer her some protection from confronting the magic as well as dealing with Lysaerys.

It would protect the scion of the phoenix. Her soul is untainted. You? It would be as substantial a barrier as parchment in a hurricane.

"Would it attack Seben first?" Vassa asked.

The opportunity to corrupt and consume divine power would be irresistible to it.

"Can it be destroyed?"

Can you turn the night into day for eternity?

Vassa sighed bitterly and levered herself up into a sitting position, still trembling. Every now and then, flashes of waking nightmare still played across her vision. She hadn't realized how delusional she was when she was with Lysaerys, how devoted. The Life-Giver's essence, trapped within the orb, left no room for avoiding that truth as it replayed moments in the stark light and clarity of hindsight. "There must be a way to stop it from attacking Seben."

Give it another host, something it will find just as tempting, and take it far from her. It cannot die, but it can be locked away. Surely you recall the wards that Lysaerys siphoned your vitality to destroy, just to get at a fragment of such power.

"Those wards were placed by a god," Vassa snapped. She had little patience with her past so close to the surface, worn paper-thin by the memories. "Last I checked, the gods were shattered."

Take it to the Summer Court and I will show you a place where it can be sealed away.

Vassa's blood ran cold. "I will not return," she said. "Not there."

Because of Lysaerys? The phylactery's voice in her mind was sweet, almost cloying, and had an edge of mockery to it. How selfish are you, Vassa of House Ithrennyn? You claim you wish to protect your darling princess.