Page 82 of Within the Veil

Regardless, sure, my experiments failed, but every time the forbidden essence coursed through my body, I knew I was tantalizingly close to success. The taste of power, a thick, sweet nectar that trickled down my parched throat, barely easing my ache for power, still lingers in the broken remnants of my broken mind. A mind broken by my own recklessness, a consequence of my own insatiable desperation for more- a lesson I will never forget.

I attempted to pull more power than I normally do, triggering the attention of Gaia, and the resulting retaliation was swift, leaving my mind and body broken. The moment I felt her unique signature, the pleasure of power had been replaced with a crippling pain that shot through my sensitive nerve endings and shredded my mind, tearing it apart like a delicate tapestry unraveling under the weight of a thousand needles. My body caved in, my spine twisting as my body contorted painfully, leaving me mishappen. The only reason I survived the onslaught of Gaia's immense power, I'm sure of it, is because of my previous siphoning. It allowed for my mind to fragment, leaving a sliver so deeply within the broken mess it is now that she must have thought me dead.

The remnants of those power jolts are also how I had been able to sense and escape Celene and her army lying in wait outside of the Kingdom. Internally I scoff at the name while the rest of me giggles. She thinks she is so clever that Celene. Seeing my drive and passion for research to attain more power as a reason to see me as weak, as her chance to take control of my Kingdom. Seeking more does not mean that you are seeking what you do not have, not always. In my case, I needed more. What she doesn't understand, what no one understands, is that the desire to be greater, to bemoreis not a weakness nor a flaw. Wanting success, and thirsting for it is but a drop in the bucket for what I will achieve.

I may be broken, mishappen, on the run, but Oh! I'm still here, part of me anyway, enough to control this decrepit, rotting walking corpse further in my search of the Dorchadas Liabránach. I know once I'm there, I will be able to rest, as no one enters the labyrinth without the fear of the darkness and of never finding their way out. I will get stronger, I will find a way to repair the brokenness that is my body and spirit. I cringe as I lose a chunk of my skin as this body runs into another branch. I could be bones and muscle matter by the time I reach my destination, but it wouldn't stop me. Once I cross Dorchadas Liabránach, into the cursed grounds, no one will dare follow. Fear and tradition are the two ultimate failsafe of the Fae. Without both, I am more powerful, despite how I may be perceived at the moment. I am meant for great things, I am meant to bathe in the blood of those who dared interfere in the greatness that is Niciven.

* * *

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Half past an hour after the sun has set, I enter the Tíranna na dorchadas Liabránach and breathe a sigh of relief, well...I do... The broken part of me drools, the slimy saliva trickling down her chin, and wipes her face with a hand that barely holds any more skin. The flesh sloughs off in chunks, revealing the skeletal structure beneath. The putrid odor of decay permeates the air, a sickening scent that lingers as if the essence of death itself emanates from her decaying form. I am grateful, for a brief moment, that I am barely a shadow within myself, for the idea of seeing my once beautiful form in the reflection of a pool she, or rather I, run my hands through makes me shudder in disgust.

Giving a little nudge, I step further into Tíranna na Dorchadas, no longer feeling that we are being followed. With no signs of life, the air heavy and stagnant, coupled with shadows that dance and twist along the jagged walls, the labyrinth is everything I expected and more. A shiver of excitement runs down my spine.

Choosing a passage, I move further into the twisted pathways, each movement causing the shadows to twist into grotesque shapes that seem to come alive. I urge the broken part of me to move slowly, as the ground beneath our feet is uneven and treacherous, littered with jagged rocks and loose gravel. At this point, I knew I was walking on stumps.

Everything becomes darker and sinister, and I wrap the suffocating feeling of pending doom around me like a warm blanket as, after what feels like an eternity of navigating the labyrinth's intricate paths, I stumble upon a hidden alcove tucked away in a secluded corner. A solitary rock stands in the center; its surface is worn and smooth, beckoning me closer. Urging my broken body, exhausted, I lower myself onto the rock and close my eyes, feeling the unfamiliar weight of fatigue settling upon me. Fae do not normally require sleep, although we partake in it sometimes when needing to heal or when otherwise bored with immortality. But right now? My body needed a break from falling apart before I completely disappeared. The distant echoes of dripping water, coupled with the whispers of evil, lull me into a drowsy state, and I surrender to the embrace of sleep.

--

A deep chuckle jolts me out of a deep sleep, and I feel my body pushing itself into a sitting position, slipping in the blood that has seeped from our pores since we have been lying here. I have no idea how I am still functioning or how long I've been here, but I do know what ever is left of my mind is less and the ability to control the shell of who I once was is becoming more difficult.

Straining against the fragmented confines of my mind, I push the command for my body to face the presence that looms before me--a colossal figure occupying the center of the alcove. He, this, whatever he may be, hovers before me, his head turned as he observes me like I would an experiment, his body barely a semblance of solidity as if he is shifting between dimensions. Not that I can judge, considering I am barely a semblance of a person anymore. Despite the loll of the tongue hanging out of my mouth and drool seeping with the blood down what is left of my chin, for the first time in a long time, I feel true fear as I attempt to meet his gaze and am immediately overwhelmed by the incomprehensible whirl of colors that spiral within his dark eyes. Those eyes...I shudder internally. They burn with a malicious intensity that starts to chip away at what is left of my broken soul.

He may not be completely solid, but judging by the immense power radiating from his very being, filling the space as wisps of darkness swirl around him, I am certain that if I attempt to hold his stare any longer, my eyeballs will incinerate within their sockets. And right now, I'm not sure if I could grow back another pair considering the previous jolts of power are, clearly, only good enough to keep me from dissolving into the very earth beneath me.

With a hesitant nudge, I redirect my body's gaze, averting our eyes from the searing brilliance, instead staring at a fixed point on a jagged wall as the echoes of his incessant chuckles continue to reverberate within the room. I hate that, at this moment, I am keenly aware of my fragility, of the weight of my own fragmented existence as I struggle to hold on to the fraying threads tethered to my fate.

Suddenly the mocking laughter stops, and he reaches to touch my head. Although the hand has no physical weight, I still feel it keenly, even from the shrinking cage that contains the sliver of my soul.

"It has been a long time since anyone dared to enter Tíranna na Dorchadas Liabránach. Even longer since someone has defied every warning, pushing past the barriers that would have deterred even the most broken and malevolent beings from venturing deeper toward the Veil Domain of the Departed." His voice slithers through the air, a sinister serpent, dripping with an unsettling resonance-- a blend of dark honeyed tones and ethereal echoes that send shivers down my spine and weaves their way into the deepest recesses of my mind, like tendrils of smoke creeping into every corner of the dimly lit room that holds my spirit.

It's a voice that should instill terror in me, yet it has the opposite effect--it calms me. The promise of death is only frightening to those who fail to realize that life itself, regardless of immortality, is nothing more than a promise of death. Everything beyond that initial sweet breath of existence is merely the space in between. What you make of that long journey between the beginning and the end is entirely up to you.

I force my gaze to his face and realize, with a slight shock, that the cage has been opened, and I no longer have to force the broken parts of me to respond to my will. I look at my hands and watch my skin knit itself back together again and the parts that were gone, grow back--the strength that was waning, returning to me in full. I marvel at the change and while my brain feels...off...I take it.

His lips curl into a dark smile, seeing the question on my face plainly. "Well, I cannot, very well, let the first being that has come this far be lost within their own mind. That simply won't do. Now, tell me, Niciven, why have you sought to break the very thing that gives the Fae their power?" He sneers at the word 'Fae,' and rolls his dark eyes.

Although his gaze is alight with burning curiosity, it's one laced with a need for me to verbalize what I can already tell he already knows. While I am still unsure of who he is, there is only but one entity that could repair the break caused by another god-- another god. But which one?

Ignoring the warning bells in my head, I narrow my gaze at his slight, "I am not seeking to break anything...simply...utilize this insipid idea of balance to further my own goals." I do not bother to pretend that I do not know what he is referring to; It would be an insult to both of our intelligence, and his power. I may not fear death, but something about him tells me the mere ending of my existence is the least of my worries.

He chuckles, "You realize that your creator...Her power runs through the leylines. Sheisthe power that runs through the very earth. Gaia is the Fae, she is every tree, every being, and everything around you. The concept of balance is ingrained within your soul because she has created the Fae. So the idea of you ripping through your genetic makeup...is intriguing, indeed." He strokes his chin, and his gaze intensifies to a degree that unnerves me. I look away, cursing the power thruming through the air, making the newly grown skin on my body pebble. Power that could be at my disposal if I had achieved my goal. Well, close enough I am not stupid enough to believe I would have been anywhere nearthis.

"You can be quite useful to me," he observes, his voice unsettlingly soft and measured as if each word is a treat he's savoring.

Despite the warning bells in my head, something in his tone irresistibly beckons me, igniting my curiosity. I recognize the madness, one that calls to my own. Familiar--comforting almost.

"In what way?" I ask, and against my better judgment, my eyes rebel, flicking back toward him. But the instant they do, his face morphs into something almost animalistic. His nostrils flare, his eyes narrow to menacing slits, and the corner of his mouth curls in a half-smirk that's more unsettling than comforting. I focus my gaze on a spot over his head, his chuckle of satisfaction at my inability to face him head-on, making me clench my jaw in annoyance.

The air between us grows heavy, and despite the warring emotions within me, I still find a part of myself drawn to him.

Imbued with darkness that renders his next words into a delicious secret between us, he answers. "Well. Revenge, of course."

I feel lips upturn. Now, revenge is something I can get behind.

ChapterNineteen

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