Bereft: Demise

29 (pt. 1) | Of Madness and its Descent

The heat was unmistakable. Buffeting my exposed skin like a summer sirocco cresting desert dunes, the warmth of the Sin's body passing near my own was as recognizable as his voice or his face or the stiff set of his shoulders. It was all-consuming, a fire that defied logic, considering that the ice layering the walls and dripping from the low rafters belonged to the same creature as the sweltering warmth biting my flesh. 

He tore through the Realm as if it were a translucent screen separating a tiger from its prey. A grating rumble precipitated the Sin's appearance like the first jarring earthquakes before a volcanic eruption. Darius hadn't even fully divested himself of the Realm's tendrils before he placed his hand between my shoulders and shoved with considerable force. 

I landed sprawled on the chaise next to the Cassandra, my breath whooshing from my lungs as my back struck the seat. Stars blurred my vision and I heard Darius strike the Vytian, the low thwap of flesh hitting flesh sliding through my ears like a blade.

For one terrible second, I was convinced Darius had killed him. I had seen the Sin break the necks of men twice Anzel's size with minimal effort. He could kill the Vytian exile without blinking, without a single thought of regret or remorse probing his consciousness.

Then I heard Anzel shout in a strange, guttural language and Darius quipped a retort in the same tongue. I blinked the stars from my eyes just as Darius wrapped his fingers around the Vytian's throat and slammed him into the floor.

"Well?" the Cassandra said, lengthening the syllable. I whipped my head to the side to see her observing me. At this proximity, her visage was more unearthly than it had initially appeared. Her skin was unblemished but almost transparent, the dark lines of her blue veins visible if her countenance was scrutinized. Her eyelashes were long and black, angling jagged shadows over her thin cheeks. The bones of the elf's face seemed as fragile as a bird's ribcage. "Are you going to stare at me? Or stop him?"

Her snide comment reoriented my attention. I jumped to my feet and reached for Darius, laying my hand against one of his quivering shoulders. The tough, uneven lines of scar tissue spelling the word "betrayer" across his back were like rugged trenches beneath my fingertips and the heat of his skin lanced through my arm. 

"Pride!"

Darius was crouched over Anzel with his hands on the Vytian's thin neck. He squeezed, and the veins in his wrist bulged with the effort to restrain his overwhelming strength. I knew the ease with which Darius could kill, so I also knew the struggle he was undergoing in his mind. The lives of others meant little to the Sin of Pride. As far as I knew, the small and immaterial heartbeat of another being was inconsequential in the Sin's ancient hands.

"Pride—stop!"

I glanced at Anzel, expecting him to fight Darius's punishing grip—but the Vytian held his arms prone at his side, his posture suspiciously relaxed considering the irate creature choking the life from him. An unaffected mood tipped his lips into a cruel smirk.

Why wasn't he fighting back?

"Don't—!" I pulled on Darius's arm, throwing my weight into the action. I hung off the creature and he ignored my presence as if he couldn't feel it. When Darius shifted, my shoes screeched on the floor as I tried to hold my ground and I fell onto my backside. 

Anzel laughed, the sound choked and mirthless as his face grew redder. "Go on—," he grated as he met Darius's black stare. "Go on, beast. Kill me. I see how you yearn to. Go on and do it. Do it, and immortalize forever your monstrous status in her eyes. Then, she'll have a chance of getting out of this alive."

"Anzel!" I gasped, disbelieving the words coming out of his mouth. Was he goading Darius?!

"I am a monster, boy," Darius hissed as he leaned toward Anzel's. The Vytian's expression remained passively schooled but for a single bead of perspiration crossing his temple. There was a large bruise forming on his lower jaw where Darius must have struck him. "Whether or not she sees me as one is irrelevant to the truth."