Page 86 of Light Locked
Don’t we all fool ourselves? You, more than anyone else, was aware of that fact. I mastered death. Alina mastered fear, but you, you mastered illusions, perhaps most of all those that we create for our own ends.
Ryson grabbed the standing corpse of a girl and yanked her into an alley. Placing a hand on her shoulder, he closed his eyes firmly, tapping into reservoirs of new power and old knowledge, he crafted an unpracticed curse.
He didn’t like how easily the skills came to him. Beyond the campfires, he hadn’t crafted an illusion in years and still it came naturally. Life blinked anew into the girl’s eyes, and they filled with fear, before she ran off into the alley with a scream.
“I awoke to kill Alina and then disappear forever,” Ryson argued, following the girl as she wandered into alleyways and roads, screaming in hysterical terror. “That’s it.”
A figure leapt on top of him and he crashed into the earth and rolled, one of Alina’s broken hosts clawing into his chest. Whatever person it had once been, one could no longer tell. Ghastly black teeth hovered over Ryson’s face, claws digging into his chest. Ryson’s dagger was already plunged into the creature’s side, blood pouring out over his hand, but Alina waited to vacate this body. The girl still screamed nearby, toiling with mindless terror when she found herself in an alley with no exit.
“You’re so afraid that we’re right,” Alina hissed and laughed all at once, her breath reeking of death as she leaned over his face. Ryson strained against the weight as one of her claws cinched around his arm and prevented him from moving the dagger any deeper.
“Because if we are, as soon as your soul returns to this broken body, pulls all your pieces, power, and memory together, you’ll find the princess with the hunger that only a century of slumber could give you. You’ll devour her like a man starving to death,” she hissed and laughed. “You hate to admit it, but we know you better than anyone else. We know what you’ll do to her.”
You mustn’t despair so deeply, Ryson. We both quite like her.
“Ha!” Alina’s beast roared. “I’ll like her so much more when you’ve twisted her into something more vile and sinister than me! I too, need a lover, Ryson. Please, share her.”
Ryson hurled Alina’s monster off of him, tearing her wound open and ripping the claws out of his chest. He ran at full force toward the screaming girl who darted from the alley, now lurching with Alina’s attempted possession.
Ryson tackled her with a killing blow, rolling with the body as Alina tried to manipulate it, managing a single claw at his throat before they crashed into the bottom of a ravine. Ryson’s wounds bled profusely as the girl heaved and twisted beside him, his cursed dagger plunged into her chest.
The body jolted and thrashed as the illusion lifted, returning the image of the corpse that Alina had mistakenly possessed, a corpse that could not protect her from harm’s way.
The girl’s shadow shuddered beside him, evidence that he’d landed a wounding blow to Alina’s soul. The shadow vanished into the earth and he collapsed back against the ravine, squinting into the heat of the sun.
“Did I kill her?” Ryson whispered.
Wounded her profoundly. Kill her? It is too soon to tell. She has arrested a fleeing host near the forest’s edge. It is unclear if she will make it to her body in time.
“It will have to be enough,” Ryson said, knowing he wouldn’t be able to catch her at this rate. His hand moved to cover a gash near his neck, the bloodiest of the lot though Alina had done her share of damage. His spirit felt the most wounded now.
As if sensing it, Prince spoke in the depths of the silence.
You are not so horrid, Ryson. You wanted to live. You wanted inspiration to live. Something in your soul sensed something in hers. Your love is true. Did you not assure her of the same? Warn her about the risks of your intentions. She made her choices too. We all have weaknesses. You just baited Alina with that illusion’s screams of terror. Alina baited me with the promise of the dead. Can you blame us for succumbing to our loves when they are what bring us the most joy?
“I'll only use her. We aren't capable of anything else. She'll be a pawn,” Ryson hissed, closing his eyes against the beating of the hot sun and words that burned just as bright as his wounds.
A pawn? No. She is a centerpiece. If you only understood the larger picture, you’d know it was a perfect match. Ryson, you do not remember your own vice when all along it’s been right in front of you.
“And what is my vice?” Ryson whispered, his eyes cracking open as he stared into the brilliance of the sun. It was so bright that it stung, so bright that it blinded him from everything else, andyet he didn’t want to look away.
It hasn’t changed, not since before you were a Venennin,he replied,not since before you were a Veilin. It lies at the heart of your power, the heart of illusion.
Ryson knew before he asked the question again, recognizing his own intentions now with a painful clarity. The campfires. The moon. The princess. In the end they were all different versions of the same thing.
His weakness had always been the same and he’d never stopped pursuing it.
His weakness had always been the light.
He’d been so blinded by it that he hadn’t seen the scheme unfolding right in front of him, pretending that he was restraining himself, when all along it was the opposite. The princess had indeed inspired him back to life, awakening needs he’d thought innocent in the moment.
He'd initially found Clea caught in the shades of fire and moonlight and been unable to leave her behind. He'd taken the medallion from the throne, seduced by the scheme at play. He had known. Standing in that throne room in Virday, he'd looked out at the city and sensed the end of it all. He'd held the key to death's door in the palm of his hand. He had known.
In your cien-mired state, you gave her your very soul to carry. Your vice is that you ache for the light, the divine, salvation. Alina and I are easily satisfied, but your vice destroys worlds. It has its own divinity, for true destruction is an act of worship.
Ryson saw the events in the castle with new clarity, Prince celebrating it as love when Ryson saw them as something else entirely.
Does Alina not worship her terrified prey?Prince asked.Do you not see the care with which I treat my dead? Is there anything more dedicated and gentle in us than our obsessions?
