Page 20 of The Immortal Covenant

Then, the bark of nearby laughter broke the spell and sent reality crashing back in. This was no mortal fairy tale. Nothing had changed between them. They were still a Celestial and an Infernal, caught on opposite sides in a ceaseless war that would eventually claim them both. And, as much as Malorg yearned for things to be different, it was pointless to pretend otherwise.

He melted into the shadows and reformed several strides away, instantly missing Sarilian’s blazing heat. It was well past time Sarilian and he parted ways before things became even more complicated between them than they already were.

He went to tell Sarilian exactly that, but what came out of his treacherous mouth instead was, “There’s one more place I want to show you before you go.”

Eternal Dark, I’m a fool.Mentally kicking himself, he retreated toward the Gallery’s entrance without waiting for a response, both fearing and praying that Sarilian would follow.

eight

Sarilian

Sarilian lowered his now-emptyarms. Rejection sat heavy in his gut as he watched Malorg walk away. So much for the connection he’d sensed between them. He could’ve sworn the Infernal felt the same indelible draw he did. Had he been mistaken?

Perhaps he’s simply as uncertain as I am.

Though Sarilian couldn’t explain why, everything from Malorg’s casual deadliness to the stark contrast between his gruff demeanor and kind heart, to his deep, aching melancholy intrigued Sarilian in a way nothing else had since he’d awoken in the Dawnlands.

That was why, despite his churning doubt, he’d given in to his longing. And it was why he now ignored the voice in his head telling him to leave and trailed after Malorg instead.

He found the Infernal waiting by the entrance. Wordlessly, Malorg offered a hand, avoiding Sarilian’s eyes. Sarilian took it, bracing himself for the uncomfortable shift into the shadows.He kept his eyes open this time, and that helped a little with the nausea. Watching the world blur past at impossible angles remained just as disorienting, but it proved easier to bear when he could see it happening.

This duskwalk lasted longer than the previous one. Wherever they were going must lie deep within the labyrinthine city. When they finally rematerialized, Sarilian saw that they were alone. In the near distance, an impressive structure loomed, its shape reminiscent of a crown forged from bristling spiked chains.

“The Dusk Citadel,” Malorg said, following Sarilian’s gaze. “Home to the Five Dusk Aspects and their attendants.”

Sarilian found the sight imposing in a way he never had the Dawn Citadel. Though that curved spire in Daybreak possessed an undeniable grandeur, it felt like one forged from respect and tradition. This edifice, on the other hand, screamed intimidation, as if those within wanted to ensure no one else ever forgot where the true power resided.

“Scary,” Sarilian said. “Is that where we’re going?”

Malorg shook his head and turned down a nearby alley wide enough for them to walk straight, if still single file. “I wore out my welcome there decades ago.”

They didn’t have far to go before Malorg halted. Frowning, Sarilian glanced around, but all he saw were dull gray walls.

“It’s, um, nice,” he ventured hesitantly. “A, uh, great example of an alleyway.”

Malorg shot him a glare, and he quieted as Malorg channeled duskflame into the nearest wall. The wall parted beneath his magic, curling over itself like a flower unfurling its petals.

Shock sucked the air from Sarilian’s lungs when he saw the shimmering blue curtain exposed in the duskflame’s wake. Against the grays and blacks of the Dusklands, the color seemed impossibly vibrant. Silver runes coalesced across its surface like rising bubbles.

Sarilian struggled to speak, his heart racing. “Is that…?”

Malorg nodded, his own narrow visage awed as he studied the opening. “The Shroud that separates the Mortal and Immortal Realms of Allaria.”

“But…buthow?Has the Void truly breached so far?”

Malorg shook his head. “It’s a rift—a spot where the fabric of this realm has begun to fray.” He raised his hand, palm hovering above the ethereal surface. Its blue glow cast an azure pallor over his skin. “I discovered this a long time ago, with my…with an old friend. I’ve kept an eye on it ever since in case it widens, but so far, it has remained the same.”

My.Sarilian hadn’t missed how Malorg stumbled over the word. Did Malorg already have a lover? That might explain his reluctance in the Gallery. “Do you come here often?” he asked, deciding not to pry despite the tendrils of mild jealousy clawing up his throat.

Malorg’s hand hovered near the rift for another heartbeat before he lowered it and faced Sarilian. “Whenever I need to. They say it’s impossible to return to the Mortal Realm once you’ve passed on—that to even attempt the journey would tear one’s soul asunder. But…”

“But you’ve considered it.”

Sympathy flooded him at Malorg’s terse nod. After hearing Malorg’s story in the Gallery, he could understand how the Infernal had grown weary of fighting. If Sarilian lived as long as Malorg had, would he eventually succumb to the same despair? Or would his devotion to honoring the Covenant and protecting Allaria remain enough to sustain him?

He thought of his desire to earn a seat on the Dawn Council, of Darius’ tutelage and the centuries that likely lay between him and that dream. Before, the thought of eternity had filled him with boundless potential. Now, however, a hint of dread crept in as well.

“Let the others continue their eternal vigil,” Malorg said. “I’ve done my part.” His dark eyes bored into the Shroud, his expression almost longing. “A single step, and this could all be over. Either I return to the life stream to be reincarnated in the Mortal Realm, or I cease to be altogether. Either way, an ending.”

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