Page 135 of Of Blood & Stone

Elnok’s rage clipped as he ran towards the goddess, stomping on her damned flowers. “Let’s get one thing straight. This isn’t just your brother’s fault, it’s yours.Your fault.You were the one who fucked one of your own creations and started this. You got all those Kreenas killed. You stole my friend’s life to get me here?—”

“Silence,” Aretta boomed in a voice dark as thunder.

Harsh winds blew through his tunic, landing like a punch to the stomach, flinging him backwards into Kharis. The Dynami caught him, the man grabbing Sylzenya as well, sheltering all of them as dark clouds formed over the meadow.

“None of you seem to understand what this world is about to become—what Distrathrus is capable of.” The goddess waved her hands, the clouds consuming the golden light until all that was left were her eyes—yellow glowing stones in the darkness.

Screeeeeech.

Elnok jolted, but Kharis kept him close. All three of them breathed hard, slowly backing away together. Another shriek, this time from behind, the sound metallic and blood-curdling.Wings flapped from above, Elnok’s heart racing as a guttural laugh echoed from every corner.

“Finally, it’s all mine.”

Red light flooded his vision. They weren’t in Aretta’s tree anymore, nor were they in the temple’s altar room. Instead, they were in a throne room, the familiar dark gray stone causing Elnok’s insides to twist into themselves.

The Rogdul Castle.

But it was all wrong. The roof had crumbled, large bricks and stones littering the throne room, a dark red sun positioned overhead.

Upon the throne sat a skeleton, its crown ladened with red and blue jewels, its white shirt stained with wine. Tattered and frayed, the shirt barely hung onto what was left of his brother.

“Tosh!” Kharis yelled, letting go of him and Sylzenya to run forward. He collapsed at the skeleton’s feet, taking its hand into his. “No, you can’t be dead. This can’t be real.”

“That was the last of them, Your Grace,” Sylzenya said, her voice distant and sharp.

Sylzenya’s mouth gaped as she stumbled back, staring at the entrance of the throne room. Two figures walked in, one tall and wide, black eyes a stark contrast to white, pasty skin, the other?—

Sylzenya.

But she looked different. Not lithe and strong, but skinny and pale. Sickly. She was dressed in all white, blood seeping from her back. Her deep blue eyes were gone, replaced with a clouded gaze. She placed her hand—spotted with red and black blisters—above the one held out to her — a blanched, pasty, decrepit hand.

“No more humans,” Distrathrus sighed, taking the sickly Sylzenya’s hand into his. The white cloak he wore was ripped in the back, revealing sharp horns that protruded from his spine, each horn as sharp as arachni fangs. His skin looked scorched,peeling as if it was molting, the skin underneath an iridescent white and red.

“Your creation roams free,” the other Sylzenya replied, her voice monotone and distant.

“And we’ll rule this place together, Sylzenya, just as I dreamed we would.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

Anger billowed in Elnok’s chest.

“I’ve seen enough,” the real Sylzenya said, shaking next to him.

A horde of arachnis skittered into the throne room, covering the ceiling, chittering and shrieking as Distrathrus hooked his hand underneath Sylzenya’s jaw. Elnok’s blood ran hot as he grabbed his rope and dagger, breaths increasing as Distrathrus forced Sylzenya’s face to meet his?—

“Aretta, please, that’senough,” Sylzenya yelled.

But the goddess was nowhere to be found. Elnok clenched his jaw, watching Distrathrus drag his mouth across Sylzenya’s pale neck, his clawed fingers gripping her hair and yanking her head back, her clouded eyes looking towards the arachnis crowding the ceiling.

Rage burned into fury, Elnok gripping his dagger so tight his knuckles hurt, Sylzenya screaming for the vision to stop.

“She’s hadenoughof this!” Elnok yelled, spinning in circles, trying to locate the goddess.

Distrathrus ripped Sylzenya’s robe down the middle, exposing her naked flesh, the god’s hands running down her body.

Elnok couldn’t watch any longer.

Running towards Distrathrus with his dagger in hand, Elnok cursed all the gods and their blatant treachery and their fucked up ideas of life.

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