Page 71 of The Curse Between Us

Edric let out a breath of laughter, the sound mixed with joy and relief. He crossed the room to pull Alec into an embrace, slapping him on the back. “Well done, Alec.”

Smiling ruefully, Alec offered the sheathed blade to Edric. “I have only brought you the instrument. The rest is up to you.” He met Zephyr’s eyes and inclined his head. “And King Zephyr.”

“Clear a space,” Clara ordered, her tone brooking no dissent. “Your Majesties, before the altar, if you please.”

Edric and Zephyr stepped forward as the others moved back, offering their well-wishes in low tones. In the back of Zephyr’s mind, Abyss was screaming once more, but he did his best to block it out. Judging by the way Edric’s jaw was set, he was hearing it too.

“Are you ready?” Zephyr asked, his voice steady but low.

“As ready as I'll ever be,” Edric muttered, a spark of defiance flashing in his eyes. He raised his chin, meeting Zephyr’s gaze with quiet strength. “Let us show them how powerful Rafria and Eskarven united can be, my lord.”

And with that, they drew their weapons.

The moment Zephyr’s hand touched the bare blade of the sword, Abyss let loose a terrible, otherworldly shriek in his mind. Zephyr’s knees buckled under the pressure, but he didn’t loosen his grip. Black tendrils coursed through the veins on the backs of his hands, as though fleeing from the shining surface of the blade. Looking over, he saw the same patterns on Edric’s hands.

Sweat poured down Zephyr’s temples, his body shaking with the strain, but he gritted his teeth and held fast. Amidst theprotests of Abyss, he heard a new sound—something sweet and bright, like the plucking of a harp.

Zephyr leaned toward it, closing his eyes as the sound grew louder.

Then, there was a burst of white light, and the temple disappeared from around them.

When Zephyr opened his eyes again, he and Edric were standing in the center of a grassy field, beneath a bright, shining sun. Their hands still gripped their weapons. Edric’s chest heaved with exertion, but he stood tall, his face proud. The silence around them was unnatural, and the absence of Abyss’s shrieks left an eerie calm.

Then came the voice—a rich, low rumble, filled with promises of all the finest things, but tinged with pure, undiluted rage.

“What have you done?” Plenty asked, its voice everywhere, vibrating through the earth and the sky. “Corrupting my gifts to you with the touch of”—a hissing sound—“the abomination?”

Edric stood tall, unfazed by the weight of the voice. “It worked,” he said with a shrug, his voice dripping with defiance. “We wished to speak with you.”

Plenty’s laughter rolled over them, rich and bitter, the sound of something ancient and cruel. “Fascinating,” it purred. “To say what, precisely?”

Zephyr stepped forward, the sword still firmly in his grasp. “To tell you this has gone on long enough. If Rafria and Eskarven can put aside centuries of enmity and learn to exist in harmony, then so can you and Abyss.”

Plenty’s laughter echoed, low and mocking. “Oh, foolish child. No, we cannot. For we are defined by our opposition to one another.”

“As were our kingdoms,” Edric countered. “Just because something has always been one way doesn’t mean it must remain so.”

“And besides,” Zephyr added, his voice steady, “you and Abyss were one once.”

At that, Abyss stirred faintly inside him. Zephyr felt a flicker of movement, like someone stirring from a deep sleep, and he tensed.

“You can be one once again,” Zephyr said, heart racing. “If you both wish it.”

The wind blew quietly through the field. Plenty was silent for a moment.

“And why would I wish that?” the voice asked, the rage still palpable. “I cast my shadow down and imprisoned it deep below the earth. It remained there, defeated, until you impetuous humans decided to upset the balance.”

“It was not balanced,” Abyss interrupted from within Zephyr’s mind, its voice rising in fury. “Let me speak, mortal. Let me face my reflection for the first time in a thousand years.”

Zephyr glanced at Edric, hesitant. Could they afford to give Abyss control, even for a moment?

Edric gave a small shrug, a wry smile crossing his face despite the danger. Zephyr exhaled slowly, still unsure, but he lowered his sword to the ground.

“How do we...” Edric began, but the words died in his throat.

Zephyr wasn’t sure either. But he reached out and took Edric’s hand, feeling a slight sting as their fingers touched. The black ink-like substance pooled in their joined hands, and Zephyr met Edric’s gaze one final time before speaking the words that would decide everything.

“Speak,” he said softly, and Abyss obeyed.

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