Page 7 of Goddess of Light

“Lovia, what are you doing!?” the Magician shouts from behind me, but I’m already there, slashing my sword at the nearest root. Sparks fly as the blade bites into the ancient wood, and Yggthra recoils with a deafening screech. Rasmus drops to the ground with a deep gasp.

The Magician appears beside me in an instant, his hands weaving sigils in the air. Tendrils of glowing energy spiral from his fingers then shoot down into the ground. Through the churned soil, between where the Old God’s roots emerge, thousands of white mycelia rise and wrap around them.

Yggthra thrashes, roots whipping through the air and slamming back down, breaking the mycelia’s grip in places.

“It’s not going down easily,” the Magician says.

“Then we don’t stop fighting,” I reply, dodging a root as it lashes out at me. My blade finds its mark again, cutting deep into the trunk. The forest trembles with Yggthra’s pain, its groaning wail echoing through the trees.

A new root shoots from the soil, coming right for Rasmus, who is trying to get to his knees. I slice my sword through it before it can reach him, severing it, then go to Rasmus and pull him up.

“I just saved your fucking life two times already,” I snarl at him. “Give me a good reason to do it again.”

Rasmus nods, and I glance over my shoulder at the Magician, who is trying to coax more mycelia from the underground.

“Hold still,” I tell Rasmus and bring the tip of my sword down over the mycelium gag, managing to split it in half without breaking his skin.

Rasmus gasps for breath, his eyes widening at something behind me.

I whirl around to see the Magician floating a few feet above the ground, the black void of his hands stretched, creating rivers that pour down to the forest floor, the force pushing his body up into the air.

Suddenly, the black starry rivers sprout up from the ground, burying the mycelia and flowing over the trunk of Yggthra. They wrap around it, spreading over the writhing roots like a black stain until everything is completely covered.

For a moment, Yggthra just shakes violently, as if trying to escape the void. Then, a bright eruption rips through the air, like an exploding sun, and Yggthra’s form begins to collapse in on itself, its roots retreating like wounded snakes.

With one final screech, the Old God crumbles, its blackened wood splintering and dissolving into ash. The forest falls eerily silent, the only sound our ragged breathing.

The Magician lowers himself back to the ground, the black universe coming back to his hands until they look human again.

“That was…impressive,” I tell him. I mean, I know he’s the universe and all, but until now, I was starting to forget he was as powerful and mysterious as he is. It makes my heart skip a beat.

The Magician doesn’t say anything. He walks over and stands beside me, staring down at Rasmus. A powerful energy seems to envelop his robes, making him glow slightly, as if the power he used to defeat Yggthra still clings to him.

Rasmus coughs, staring up at us. His face is pale, his eyes wild.

I keep my sword drawn where he can see it.

“Why?” Rasmus croaks, his voice barely audible. “Why did you save me?”

I glare down at him, gripping the hilt tighter. “Because no one gets to kill you but me.”

“Now that you’ve found out your mother thinks you’re expendable, perhaps you might want to strike a bargain with us,”the Magician says to Rasmus, his voice calm but cold. “A real one. Your chance to be on the right side of things for once.”

Rasmus rubs his lips together for a moment. “Release the rest of me.”

I can’t see it, but I can feel the Magician smiling.

“Always an opportunist,” the Magician comments. “No, I think we’ll keep you bound just like this. You’re still our prisoner, after all. Only this time, we’re the ones with the cards that mean something. We’ll draw yours later.”

Rasmus doesn’t say anything as we haul him to his feet. My legs ache, the arrow wound on my calf burns, and my heart is still racing, but as we stumble away from the wreckage of Yggthra, I can’t help but glance back at the pile of ash and shattered roots.

One Old God down, too many left to go.

CHAPTER THREE

DEATH

I’m surrounded by idiots.

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