A Priestess for the Blind God (Legends of Rahasia Book 1)

Chapter Sixty-Nine

Ryu slumps over from exhaustion as soon as he spits that vile name at me. I turn away from him, swallowing that lump growing in my throat, choking me and making me so damnably weak with sorrow. I've lost Ryu's admiration forever. In its place, I've gained fear.

With fear, comes power.

But all the power in the world cannot bring back the dead.

Kane...

I run over to the Blind God's prone body, his curled fingers still frozen around those damning red beads, his throat crushed beneath the Beloved's hands. Twisted as easily as if Aziz had played one of his instruments.

I pull his forehead to my lips, his silver hair falling over my shadowed cheek, blood like tears. "Kane..." I kiss him again. He doesn't stir.

Witches don't win in fairy tales.

"How touching," I turn around, and I see the gleaming, rose-red eyes of Aziz. I glance over to the bed and see Ryu lying there.

But if Ryu's body is still there, then that means Aziz is... is...

"It's been so long since I've possessed that weakling's body that I forgot what it's like possessing my real Divine form." Aziz flips their long, gloss-black hair over their shoulder. Their skin is bare except for a sheer red robe draped over their bony torso. Hanging from their bird-thin hips, a gold-fringed şalvar. Neither man and woman, possessing the qualities of both, but unmistakably wholly Divine. "I'm a god, my dear. I'm here to stay."

A rustle behind me, laughter as a corpse returns from the dead.

"You're here to stay, dear sibling? Well, so am I."

A dark figure from legend, skin the shade of night, hair the same silver of moonlight reflecting off a black swollen river. The restored Kane swoops in and tackles Aziz's delicate body to the ground. Their pretty bones snap, a startlingly musical scream.

"Please," Aziz begs, saltwater streaming in tiny rivulets as they wail.

Kane snarls in their face, spit gathering at his peeled-back lips. "Nothing but poison comes from your mouth!"

Crack!

Kane slams Aziz's head against the ground, and the Beloved's sobs grow louder. "I don't lie. Please, brother. I'll leave Cato. I'll never betray you again."

Kane grins, feral. The Kane I know, like one of my ghūls. All flesh, no soul. "Oh, I know you won't betray me again, Aziz."

He picks Aziz up by their neck like a rat, and all Aziz can do is whimper since Kane outweighs them. The Blind God unsheathes a dagger from his belt, and heads directly for the statue of the Beloved, made of pure metal, that's standing at the edge of Ryu's bed.

Kane slices the dagger through the statue as though it's water, and it falls, sizzling, into two hollow pieces. Aziz howls miserably as they realize what Kane's about to do. "Ode," Kane looks back at me, "would you be a dear and help me with this?"

I think back to what Aziz did, how they tortured Ryu to no longer recognize who I was. How they were willing to sacrifice the world so that only the beautiful would reign, not giving a rat's ass about the freaks at the edges of society. Kane saw good in all humans, no matter if they were blemished, elderly, or disabled. Aziz...

They wanted beauty, and would've killed everyone "ugly" who stood in beauty's way.

"Of course, dear."

I help him lift Aziz into the hollowed-out crevice of the statue. Together, we push the two edges back and Kane seals the cracks with the still-heated dagger. Kane's dark skin is crackling with the energy of the gods, taken from beyond the Divine realm. It drains him. Sweat gathers on his starlit brow. Yet, still, he works through the pain until the job is done.

"You're all hideous creatures! You, Kane, and your beastly little—!"

Aziz stops howling as soon as the last fracture's sealed. A gate closed forever.

Damnation.

We stare for a couple moments at the Beloved's statue and tomb, their fingers curled in benign blessing, their iron eyes staring peacefully ahead toward some untold future. Arms clasped in prayer. Lips parted in song. A stringed instrument balanced in the crook of their elbow.

Still. Silent. Almost serene.

"Perfect," I whisper, near hysterical and swaying from blood loss. Kane and I, battered as we are, end up leaning on each other. We take in statue-Aziz's carved image, the eternal smile and that metal-smooth cheek, "they're finally the perfect work of art that they always wanted to be. And who knows, they might even get out on good behavior if they repent for what they did. If they decide to find the humanity in their beautiful godliness..."

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Hey Champions!

Hope the pacing was okay with this chapter. It was one of those scenes where you had it perfect in your head, but then once you start writing, Stranger Things start happening. (Yes that was a TV show reference).

Best

Sophia