Page 82 of Court of Heathens

“The beauty! This world needs to be destroyed. It needs to be rebuilt. It needs to be cleansed!”

Shaking my head, I stare into his eyes. He might have been a man once driven by grief, but he let it twist him into a monster. Does he not understand that the very reason they culled our kind is because of this?

This is not the way to change their minds, but it is too late for that now.

“Look.” He gestures at the city beyond. “Look at what we are capable of.” I hurry to the edge, peering down in horror. There are so many bodies, all because of him and what we are.

I glance back at him to see his proud grin. “It is not the darkness inside us they fear, but the power we hold. Even the gods fear us because they know we could be even more powerful than them, and they hate that. They kill us not just because they are afraid, but also because of jealousy. The gods wish they could be as strong as us.”

“They killed us because of this! You conquered an entire city to make a point. You killed thousands, and you wonder why they killed our people. One person did this. No wonder they feared what more of us would do. You are not helping us. You are just confirming everything they think is true. Everyone else forgot, thinking we are just nightmares whispered in the dark to scare kids, but now, we will be the horror in their past, a constant reminder of the abuse of magic necromancers are capable of. This isn’t making us a future. It’s damning us once more.” The words tumblefrom my lips as I step closer. “What they did to your family was wrong, but how many families have you killed today? How many children have you taken? How many parents’ souls have you slaughtered? You are no better than them—no, you are worse because you know the pain it causes and you still did it anyway. You let revenge blind you and called it change. We can be better than this. We have to be, or we don’t deserve to live.”

“We are what we are made into,” he tells me. “We are born to be this. You cannot fight fate no matter how hard you try. Death is all they understand, and I am willing to be the evil covered in blood if it changes the future. Are you? Will you do what it takes for your ideals?”

As I stare into his eyes, I understand what he means. Am I willing to sacrifice everything to stop this?

To fight the devil, you must be the devil.

You cannot win against evil without being evil yourself.

I will never win against him like this. He has no weakness or reservations, but I do.

I hold back the darkness with firm control, and that makes me weaker than he is. I will not win, and my men will die.

What is one life, one soul, against all of that?

Everything I have fought for, everything I have tried so hard not to be fills me, and I know I must become like him to end this. I must become what everyone said we are—evil.

I must embrace who I was born to be or I will die here like everyone else.

My soul is a small price to pay, even though I know it will destroy my men to kill me after.

It will be worth it to keep them and everyone safe.

“Yes,” I tell him. “I am willing to become whatever it takes to end this.”

I let go.

I release the darkness inside me, letting the shadows leak through me. I demolish all that careful control born from fear. I tear down the wall Phrixius taught me and let it out.

I feel it fill me, darkness crawling under my skin, and when I liftmy hands, I see it moving. My eyes and face feel different, and my hair flows around me, lifted by power.

“There you are.” He grins. “Magnificent. Let’s see, shall we?” He turns to the city. “Kill them.”

“No!” My hands lift, and shadows pour from them, wrapping around him. They cover his mouth and hands, sinking into his skin as one of my men roars in agony. “No!”

The darkness explodes, the thorns ripping into the necromancer as fury fills me.

He dares to hurt what is mine?

His eyes are wide as my darkness tightens around him, ripping him to pieces. Power flows from me as I begin to rise into the air, and with a yell, I send it out to the city.

I steal all the souls filling those bodies, my command clear.

Die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die.

I feel them fall, one by one, their screaming, fighting souls rushing back to me, and then I fling them into the mask. It flows through and around me. There is so much raw magic, the earth trembles with it.

I could not stop this now even if I wanted to, but he’s right . . . . I don’t.

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