Page 50 of Sin Eater

Ember

The spell gnaws at my guts, unleashing a throbbing pain accompanied by strikes of lightning. Thousands of sharp blades plunge into my nonexistent flesh, forcing me to writhe in the vain hope of escaping this unbearable suffering. Helpless and unable to make the slightest move to help, I watch Believe, who remains immobile. On her swollen lip, a large cut lets her blood run down her chin before dropping to the ground. Her bruised cheekbone takes on strange colors as the hematoma settles.

Her white braid is now unraveled, little shaggy locks encircling her livid face and her silver eyes concealed by large, purplish circles. She's a shadow of the woman I met a few days ago, a pale counterfeit of the one I kissed. Humans are so fragile. She gives the impression of having already died, as if she has given up the game, exhausted by the frantic race of circumstances.

“Believ...”

Our assailants freeze.

“Did you hear that?” says one of them, trembling.

“He's here,” confirms another, shivering.

If they can hear me, now's the time to speak up. It's my turn to dictate the rules!

“Let her go!”

Despite the pain spreading through every centimeter of my being, I feel a surge of power flowing back. My voice, which until now had mingled with the breath of the wind, thunders in a cavernous storm like a sinister warning.

“Don't!” shouts the man who seems to be leading the small assault group. “Carry out orders as quickly as possible!”

Although shaken by my presence—not to say terrified for some, whose knees knock together despite their steps—they comply. Two of them grab Believ's arms and drag her toward the exit.

Did I really believe they would obey me?

Ghosts are part of the landscape of this cursed abbey, as I understand it. That some are still impressed is astonishing, when you think about it.

My threats will have no echo in the face of these warriors, but I must carry them out. I must save Believ!

“Ember!” she screams.

As she begs me with a volume to tear her vocal cords, my heart rips out of my chest and crumbles to pieces. It can't end like this. She wanted to help me. I can't let her perish without intervening!

“Ember!”

Her voice fades, gradually blurred by the growing distance and wavering hopes.

“Get over here!”

“You didn't have to be so clever! You're going to tell us everything, otherwise...”

If not, they won't be content with torturing her. When they tire of mutilating her, they'll finish her off, like all those Sin Eaters sacrificed and exposed for the example she told me about.

She's going to die.

This revelation strikes me with an even sharper violence than the one that paralyzes me. Whatever the secrets of my demise, I cannot conceive of her dying in this way. I refuse to let her lose her life through my fault.

“Ember.”

This time, her voice fades to a whisper.

She falls. Her small, frail body crashes to the ground with a dull thud before being shaken by impressive spasms.

“What's wrong with her?”

“Epilepsy?” worries one of the guards.

“It doesn't matter; just take her away!” interjects the chief, who clearly refuses to keep his share of humanity.

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