Dark Fall (3rd Book)

Chapter 32: Winter and Shadow

Althalos woke not too many minutes later, head reeling from pain. He glared at the Shadowqueen, but did not open his mouth. The goddess had given him a proper thrashing with minimal effort; it would be unwise to force her to action again.

But you would, wouldn’t you? Blood called for blood, but again, his fingers busied themselves drumming against his thighs. Sitting up, he asked,” What now, goddess? We have tarried here long enough. Magnus withers with every passing moment.” He winced slightly at the croak of his voice, but thought nothing of it.

The goddess peered at him with narrowed eyes, her blades at the ready. “You sure you’re alright now? You were… mad, earlier.”

“Yes,” He said, exasperated. I would not want to discuss that, mind you. “I am fine, Selena. Now I ask again: are we to depart now, or are we to waste more time?”

“Are you really sure?” She asked. “Frankly, Althalos, you scare me. A goddess I am, and yet you have the power to defeat even one of divine blood. Defeat is something a god is not familiar with, but you have the power to teach them this.”

“Believe me, goddess,” He started, standing up,” the only god’s life I plan on ending is the one who so graciously gifted me the tools of his own destruction.” Red eyes gleamed with amusement. “I frighten you, is it? Then don’t because you’re one of the few who can overpower me. I’m… unstable, akin to a sword without a hilt, but you and the bastard are the only ones who can fight me head-on and possibly win.”

He frowned when a thought came to his mind. “A question, Shadowqueen, if you don’t mind.”

She waved her hand, so he proceeded, “You are here, but where is your counterpart? He is the Aspect of Light and Fire; as such, it seems far-fetched that he is truly gone.”

“No,” She replied, face inscrutable. “He would not have. If he had died, then fire, heat and light would cease to exist. His creations contain his essence, and for him to be erased is for his work to die with him.”

She sheathed her blades. “Why do you ask? Do you seek him?” She laughed, shaking her head. No humour was found in that usually-lilting tone; Althalos felt the cold sweeping against his face, seeping into his skin. “I have not seen him since I last saw him fall, both the Demon Princess and her student striking the mortal blow to my dearest friend. He may yet live, but I have no knowledge of whence.”

“Perhaps trapped in his… world as well, as is the case with you?” Althalos had no name for this strange land, for he wanted nothing more than to leave. Magnus yet suffers, and though he was the cause of it, he had a score to settle with the Shadowy Death.

“This is my consciousness, boy.” Her reply went without surprise. He gaped at her, lips unable to form coherent words. “Laertiz would have, but my prideful friend would have not retreated even if the situation was at its worst. And it had come to that; Merec, for all his power, lacks what me and Laertiz possess, and that is the power to kill gods.”

“And yet, that did not prevent Merec from defeating the White Dragon. Maybe—“

“Do not speak about the White Dragon!” She hissed, her swords at his neck in an instant. He stilled, his black heart beating wildly against his chest. Her eyes were dark and dangerous, and she gripped her weapons with unnatural force. “You know nothing! You have not discovered the true suffering he had endured at the hands of your Master; the horrors he was subjected to!”

Her eyes widened, and she stumbled back, breathing heavily. Althalos visibly relaxed as the feel of the blades disappeared from his throat. He flinched when she threw her blades to the trees, sticking fast. “Forgive me,” She whispered through panting breaths. “I am not myself. The loss is as great as if he had passed on just the last night.”