Dust to Dust | ✓

14 || Beloved

It was colder than Aiko expected in the void—a pitiful mortal thought that coiled around her being and twisted her insides with a sense of fragility. Having ascended above such lowly thoughts, or so she claimed, it made Cinere snort from her perch on the fiery throne in the recesses of Aiko's mind. Don't be stupid, she sneered as the phoenix god's flames surged higher to warm Aiko's skin. It's a void. The absence of light and warmth. Of course it's cold.

Aiko's lip twitched at Cinere's usual mocking, but she refused to grace her with any more of a reaction. Her mind and body were already abuzz with adrenaline from her fight with Zehra and the desperate rush to enter the portal. It was enough that every move she made sent a jolt through her bones and the cut on her hand burned with a vengeance. She didn't need Cinere's jeers cutting over her soul and letting her foolish inner thoughts spill out. To shield herself, she wrapped Felix's cloak tighter around her shoulders, grateful for its warm embrace; the thought that he was without it left a hollow ache in her chest. If he was freezing somewhere, turning to ice without his cloak, she would hate the gift even more. He didn't deserve to suffer, not for her sake.

She shook her head. Focus. You're almost there. To ground herself again, she let her gaze wander the world she had stepped into.

The air was heavy with the prickle of magic, crackling like lightning across an overcast sky. Darkness surrounded her like a thick blanket, almost as suffocating as the air. It obscured everything as far as Aiko could see in shadows as black as ink. Silence hung heavily in the air, still enough that even her uneven breathing seemed too loud. Her throat clenched painfully and she swallowed against her rising panic. There was no Felix and no Reapers. "There's nothing here at all. Zehra tricked me."

"Come now, don't be so naive," came a sly voice, gliding across Aiko's ears like a serpent. A slender hand landed against her shoulder, nails digging into the uneven stitches in Felix's cloak.

Aiko jumped as a hot puff of air tickled the shell of her ear. She swiveled and came face to face with Cinere, her mahogany curls braided tightly down her back and woven with ribbons of gold like always, poised and controlled. The flame in her eyes was painfully bright, a blaze that swallowed the darkness of the void in its glow. A smile curled her red-stained lips, but it didn't twist Aiko's insides uncomfortably this time. It was more certain—confident and secure.

Aiko frowned at her presence, her brow knitted with confusion. She glanced down to Cinere's sandaled feet before meeting her eye again. "How are you...?"

Cinere waved the question away. "This place is constructed entirely of magic. Reality can be altered here, so I can appear as I wish. Like in your head." She poked the spot between Aiko's brows. A red cloak was draped over her dress this time, concealing the tight bodice and gold ribbon that criss-crossed down her back. She pulled away with a twirl that made her skirts flare out around her slender legs. "Besides, I'm the phoenix god reborn. I can do whatever I want."

Anger simmered in Aiko's chest at the arrogance in the other girl's voice—Aiko's voice, abused by Cinere. She clenched her fists, face burning. "Don't think yourself to be some sort of saint!" she snapped. With the wave of her arm, she gestured sharply back the way they had come, to the door where Zehra lay crumpled outside. "What was that? You could have killed her!"

Cinere blinked. "You had better hope I did. She'll kill us otherwise."

"Us?" Aiko asked incredulously. "You still don't get it, do you? There's no us; you're a... I don't know what you are! You're a curse. A figment of my imagination that won't go away."

"No, you don't get it." Cinere's gaze hardened, the flame in her eyes growing so bright it was almost blinding. Fearfully, Aiko took a step back as Cinere advanced on her. "I'm the reason you're alive at all. I'm the reason you're going to get out of this mess. I'm the reason you're going to be able to rescue your beloved assassin. Why can't you acknowledge that?" She heaved a sigh and jerked her gaze away. "I warned you that this was all going to end poorly. I warned you about Zehra, and you..." She let the end of her words trail off. The weight of what was unspoken was heavy enough.