The Icon Unbound

Chapter Twenty-Eight, Part A - Mirrah

So, my lovelies, thank you for sticking with me as I post the end of this, the story closest to my heart. As always, if you like please leave me a comment or a vote. I have edited a few minor things in here. --Elizabeth, UPDATED 08/05/2017

Death should have been a release from pain.

Her soul should have flown to the heavens, to shine in peace for all eternity. The Icon Who Was Sara had spun that story again and again to her Apprentice.

Instead of flying, Mirrah had found herself bound more securely and more painfully than she had ever been in life. Torture without ceasing threatened to rip apart any hope. Something else was in the dark with her. Some presence, some dark thing that kept itself on the periphery of knowledge, was waiting to devour her soul.

Little bites. Little nibbles. Little horrendous, baiting hooks that preceded a feast.

Then there were the voices, two of which she recognized. Her old mentor She Who Was Sarah, and She Who Was Rachel.

The others. They were trapped here too.

She wanted to pull away, to move, to go upward, but every time she tried, a thousand roars shredded the darkness. Although she had no body, they made her... afraid. It was a different fear, now that she was separated from her body, but it still paralyzed her.

How? How could it be...

"Please don't hate me. I should have done this for you long ago. You were never like the others. You have forged your own path, broken from all bonds. You gave me hope that the Devourer can be killed. Go in peace and war. Free the others that are trapped. Take what you have paid for. That morning, when Sarah died, I came for you...but I couldn't do it. I...regret...allowing this to happen to you. For what it's worth, you were the best of them. I am proud of you."

"Nadir!"

Now, she felt her lungs burning for breath and air.

With the first breath she took, those memories began to fade, as if they could not tolerate the air of the physical world.

Wait, what couldn't tolerate air?

Stars and saints, it hurt.

She felt steady and unfamiliar undulations inside her breast, and she remembered it, from long ago. There were times she even dreamed about this pressure. A beating heart pumped life's blood through her body. Despite being on her back, and everything else that had happened she felt strong.

Trying to blink through the light, she reached out a hand with trembling fingertips. No warm body came to curl up next to her. No snout pressed into her hand. Though she should be covered in blood, she didn't feel his warm tongue, or hear his voice in her mind, comforting her.

A low, feminine voice demanded her attention. "Can you squeeze my hand? Can you open your eyes? Icon?"

Honor kept calling her that, and it wasn't right anymore.

Mirrah turned away from Honor's voice...she needed to sleep, to dream, to find the ones...to destroy the...

Once again, the world fell away. This time, she welcomed it.

No matter how hard she looked, she could not find her way to that other place. Sometimes she forgot what she was even looking for. Eventually, she was pulled away from her search by another voice, one that could call her from anywhere.