Only Skeletons Remain

Chapter 43: The Newest Bishop

October 2019

The moon hung high over DEMA, casting a cold light through the maze of towering structures. The air was thick with tension, as if the city itself was holding its breath, waiting for what was to come. In the center of it all, Harper stood, her body trembling—not from fear, but from the strange mixture of anticipation and dread that had settled deep in her bones. She was only thirteen, but in DEMA, age didn't matter. Power did. Harper had learned to use her gift well, and she was slowly starting to delve into the Navigating aspect of the gift, where she could see the outcomes of every situation.

Blurryface stood before her, his red eyes gleaming in the dim light, his voice like the low rumble of distant thunder. Beside him, Blight's green eyes flickered with a strange intensity. Blasphemy watched with piercing blue eyes, and Bliss kept his eyes closed, as though he were just content to listen. They were the ones who decided her fate. Tonight, they were more than that—they were her executioners and her rebirth. Adrian wasn't present for this ceremony tonight. There were rumors that he had fled DEMA, and no one knew where the man was. 

"Do you understand what is about to happen?" Blurryface's voice was calm, yet it carried a weight that made the air seem thicker. His black fingers tapped against his seat. Being Tyler's bishop, he had grown a strange fondness for Harper, but there was still a bit of resentment there.

Harper nodded, her throat dry. She understood, but understanding didn't ease the heaviness pressing down on her chest. This was what they had been preparing her for, what they had whispered about when they thought she wasn't listening. The visions had started years ago, creeping in like an unwelcome guest in her mind. She had seen flashes of war, blood, death—and her place in it all. Foreseeing was a gift, they told her, one that would make her powerful beyond measure. But it came with a price.

Blurryface raised his hand, and from the shadows, a figure stepped forward—Lisden, the vulture bishop. His dark feathers seemed to absorb the moonlight, and his beady eyes glinted as he looked at Harper. She had been apprenticed to him, learning how to control her visions, how to bend them to her will. But this—this was something different. This was transformation.

Lisden's talons brushed against her arm as he circled her, his raspy voice filling the air. "The time has come, Harper. The Foreseeing has chosen you, and now...you will become one with the bishops. A guide through the fog of time, just like me."

Harper swallowed hard. She wanted to run, but her legs wouldn't move. There was nowhere to go. DEMA was a prison, and she was its next prisoner. She was going to be a ruler of this city her father had warned her about. The one Fenrir had warned her about. 'It's for the good of my family. This will protect them,' she had told herself, but she wasn't sure she believed that.

Blight approached, a dark vial in her hand, swirling with an iridescent liquid that seemed to pulse with life. "This will bind you to us," she said softly, her voice almost gentle. "You will see everything. Know everything. But you must let go of the past—of who you were. Only then will you truly belong."

Blurryface stepped closer, his red eyes boring into her. "Do you accept, Harper?"

Harper's heart pounded in her chest, her thoughts racing. Her parents were gone, her family scattered in the winds of DEMA's war. Her brothers were deep in their studies, with Liam in the process to become a bishop as well. This city was all she had left. But even as she stood there, a flicker of something deep inside her—a small spark of resistance—whispered that this was wrong.

She opened her mouth, but the words wouldn't come. She wasn't ready for this. She didn't want this. She wasn't supposed to be here. She was supposed to be home on the island, but that was gone. Her old life was gone, and it was time to embrace the new life. Lisden's talons dug deeper into her arm, and she knew there was no choice. If she didn't accept, she'd be stripped of her humanity. In that moment, Harper realized that there were fates far worse than death.

"I...accept," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the pounding of her heart.

Blight smiled, and with a swift motion, she uncorked the vial and pressed it to Harper's lips. The liquid was cold as it slid down her throat, and almost immediately, Harper felt a searing pain course through her body. She gasped, her knees buckling as the world around her blurred.

Lisden's voice was distant now, echoing in her ears. "This is the beginning, Harper. Embrace it."

Her vision swam as the pain intensified, spreading through every vein, every muscle. It was like fire under her skin, burning her from the inside out. She collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath, her fingers clawing at the earth beneath her. She felt like she was being burned from the inside out. And then, just as suddenly, the pain stopped.

Harper lay still, the cool night air brushing against her skin. She felt...different. Heavy. Like something had shifted inside her, something dark and powerful. She was wearing a dark robe that fluttered in the wind.

Lisden knelt beside her, his talons brushing her hair back from her face. "You are one of us now," he whispered. "A bishop of DEMA."

Harper blinked, her vision clearing, and when she looked at her hands, they were covered in dark, inky veins that pulsed beneath her skin. Her heart raced as she slowly pushed herself to her feet. She could feel it—the power coursing through her veins, the weight of the visions pressing against her mind, begging to be released.

Blurryface stepped forward, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Now, Harper...open your eyes."

She did. And the future unfolded before her—war, destruction, and the endless cycle of DEMA's control. She saw herself, standing at the center of it all, a weapon in their hands. She was causing mass destruction and chaos. She was going to be a monster. 

But somewhere, deep in the fog of her visions, she saw something else. A flicker of hope, a way out. And for the first time, Harper realized that this power, this curse, might be the key to her escape. Within the fog, she could see yellow eyes peering back at her. Fenrir.

"In your darkest hour, I will not forsake you. I promise." Fenrir's voice echoed through her head.

Harper felt a rush of hope course through her body. Fenrir would help her escape. He wouldn't leave her. 

But for now, she was a bishop of DEMA. And there was no turning back.