Page 33 of Return of the Darkness
Chapter Twenty
Soren
“He will need to sit aside while you bathe,” Nyzaia called, drifting from the shadows of the archway towards the large pool. Her leathers were stark against the colourful mosaic tiles. Soren kept her eyes on where they sat directly before Nyzaia as she approached the steps down into the bathing pool.
“He doesn’t like water. He’ll stay away.” Soren rested her forehead against his and felt her muscles relax while gazing into Seiko’s different eyes: one icy blue, one milky, a stark contrast to Baelyn’s eyes of the deepest chestnut. “I’m sorry I lost him,” Soren murmured. “Are the others okay?” She ignored Nyzaia’s scoff, as she sat on a stone bench off to the side. No matter how delusional Soren may look talking to her wolves, she knew they understood. Seiko licked her face as a sign the wolves were okay before whining and lifting his paw to her shoulder. Soren pulled back. They missed her. “I miss you too,” she said, feeling more sentimental than usual.
“We have little time,” Nyzaia said, her words clipped. Soren sighed and stroked Seiko’s head. The wolf seemed to understand Nyzaia too as he settled at the edge of the bathing pool with his head on his paws, watching the Queen of Keres. Nyzaia looked him up and down.
Soren had never been embarrassed about her body. She stripped off her trousers, wincing at her weak, aching muscles. Her hands paused on the tunic, and she tugged it in different directions, struggling with the chains around her wrists. Soren huffed, wincing at the metal digging into her skin. Nyzaia stalked across the mosaic tiles with a sigh and stood toe to toe with Soren, pursingher lips. Seiko gave a low warning growl. Soren met Nyzaia’s eyes and held her breath when she pulled a dagger from her thigh. It was all a trap. Nyzaia lured her here for torture. She jumped when Nyzaia’s hand caught the bottom of her tunic, pulling it taut. In one swift move, the Keres queen sliced the tunic’s front, ripping the fabric until it hung on the chains. Soren winced as the back of Nyzaia’s hand grazed her abdomen before stepping back. Soren was quick to turn and enter the pool, hiding her body. Perhaps she got embarrassed after all.
She glanced sideways at Nyzaia. Soren wanted to hate her, for that was what Caligh wanted. He wanted Soren to hate them all for none were worthy of his attention. They wanted him dead. But since Soren awoke from her last dream, the only words ringing in her head were that of her younger self, locked behind bars—I like Nyzaia—andthe queen’s screams when she unleashed her anger on Soren during the battle.You deserved it,a small, delicate voice whispered in her mind.
“Can you say something for me?” Nyzaia asked. Soren turned to face her, confused by the need for conversation while bathing. She reached for the soap in a copper bowl beside Seiko and washed what she could reach of her arms. “Say his name: Caligh Servusian.” Wincing, Soren tore her gaze from Nyzaia. “Say it, Soren.”
Soren swallowed, struggling to ignore the small voice in her head urging her to do as Nyzaia asked, the voice which revelled in the way Nyzaia spoke her name so calmly. Soren took a breath, wishing she could forget him.
“Caligh Servusian,” Soren whispered. Her skin squirmed, and ringing erupted in her mind, but she stayed quiet, continuing to wash herself while watching Nyzaia. Something flickered in her eyes—a flame. Soren had done something wrong, but she did not know what.
“When did you meet him?” Nyzaia asked, crossing her arms. Soren watched the surrounding water darken with dirt and blood, trying to recall the exact moment, but it was unclear—a blur ofbodies and places, a mumble of indecipherable words. “When?” Nyzaia raised her voice, and Soren dropped the soap, unable to think. She focused her mind, but the shadows lingering there quietly reached the corners, shrinking the ivy and flowers that tried to grow in its place.
“I-I don’t know,” Soren realised, mumbling her answer. Nyzaia gave a humourless laugh.
“Do not lie to me,” Nyzaia hissed. “Speaking his name did nothing, not like it did with Osiris. You were never under his control. You willingly chose this path.” Nyzaia paced towards the edge of the bathing pool as Soren tried to reach for the soap with her feet. But then, the pool began to warm. Wading away from Nyzaia, she heard Seiko’s warning growl, seeming to realise Nyzaia was heating the pool. Soren silenced him with a look, not wishing for him to end up like Baelyn.
“When did you decide you had to try to take the throne?” Nyzaia demanded. Soren’s mind dragged her back to the day she sacrificed her family, her grandmother’s voice ringing in her ears.I have seen who will lead you and Garridon into the darkness to come, and who will ensure its end. Yet for that to happen, your queen and princess’s power must match that of the heirs.Soren sifted through her memories, seeking proof that her grandmother, not Caligh, demanded Caellum’s murder—evidence that her decisions were a culmination of many factors.Yether grandmother said nothing of the throne or killing Caellum. She spoke of the darkness to come. Caligh. One memory captured her attention in particular: her grandmother informing Sadira she would marry Caellum, and their child would bring peace. Soren was to stand by their side to protect them. When was Soren instructed to kill him and take the throne for herself? Only Caligh’s face appeared. It was his plan—only his.
“I-I don’t know. I don’t know when,” Soren stuttered, telling the truth. She could not recall the moment she met Caligh, or when he advised killing Caellum, or twistedthe thought so deeply in Soren’s mind she believed it was her family's scheme. Soren remembered nothing. The temperature in the bath rose and steam floated across her vision. The heat was making her faint.
“You’re lying,” Nyzaia sneered, flames licking at her palms. Soren gasped as the water began to burn, reddening her skin. The water’s edge closest to Nyzaia bubbled. Seiko whined, evidently distressed and unable to intervene, unable to disobey Soren’s earlier order.
“I don’t remember,” Soren said, tears welling in her eyes. “I remember nothing. Why don’t I remember anything?” Nyzaia’s face faltered. “Why, why, why?” Soren tried to walk towards the edge of the pool as the steam faded; a misty morning appeared in her mind as she reached for the side. Seiko continued whining as Nyzaia moved until her black boots came into view. Caligh had worn black boots when he met Soren in the open clearing on Doltas Island. His face appeared, and Soren panicked at his calculating smile while Sadira cried beside her. “Get out,” Soren murmured. “Get out. Leave her alone!” Her eyes grew panicked as she stared at the black of Nyzaia’s boots, her breath quickening. She needed to get him out before he took her again. Soren smacked her head with her fist. “Get out!” she cried, hitting her forehead with the iron cuff. “Get out!” Hit. “Get out!” Hit. “Get out!”
“Soren! Stop!” Nyzaia commanded, but she was no longer listening. Caligh continued to approach while she smacked the cuffs against her head, sensing the warm blood trickle down her face. “Shit,” Nyzaia mumbled. Warm hands reached for her shoulders, spinning her around. Suddenly, there were legs on either side of her in the water and arms wrapping around Soren’s chest from behind, holding her tight and restricting her arms. Thrashing at the stranger’s touch, Soren reached back to dig her fingers into leather-clad thighs. A woman gasped.
Soren felt the presence then of Nyzaia’s mind, fluttering against the edges of hers. Together, they watched Caligh stalk towards the two young girls, no older than thirteen. One wore a beautiful pinkgown with blonde bouncing curls flowing over her shoulder. The other’s hair was braided, and she wore a muddied brown tunic, with a wooden sword at her hip.
“You will be a powerful queen one day, Sadira,” Caligh hummed, his shadows gliding across the grass towards the young sisters. “As will your children. Think of how much safer they would be with my protection.” Soren pushed Sadira behind her. Something about this man made her spine tingle and mind sharpen. There was something terrifying about him. Caligh watched Soren, intrigued. “Come, Sadira.” He offered his hand to the princess, who cowered behind her older sister. “You could play a vital part in my revenge against a god. Together, you can become the Queen on the Garridon throne.” His grin made Soren uncomfortable as she recalled her grandmother's words: Sadira would marry the King of Garridon one day, with Soren as her protector. This man wanted to use Sadira for something else. Soren had promised to protect her, and she would.
“Don’t take Sadira, take me.” Soren raised her chin, and Caligh’s eyes narrowed.
“And what would you offer me? It is not you my servant has seen upon a throne; it is not you who will marry a king and slaughter him while he sleeps.” When Caligh stepped forward, Soren raised an arm in front of Sadira, who squeaked in fear.
“Sadira is too kind, too sweet. She would never do such a thing.”
Caligh laughed, peering up at the small birds Sadira had saved, safe in their nest.
“She would not have much choice. I would make her.” He grinned.
“Then make me. Sadira will still be queen, but do not make her do something like this. I am her sister; I am a princess. I can remain close by her side and the king’s.” Caligh rubbed his jaw, contemplating her words. Soren felt another presence, a fiery warmth watching over the scene playing in her mind.
“Don’t take Sadira, take me.” Soren focused on Caligh; she wasdetermined to do whatever this man required if it meant protecting Sadira. As Caligh watched, the chirping babies in the nest above flew free. One collided with Caligh, a shadow ripping free from him and breaking its neck.
“Very well, little bird.” Caligh extended his hand to Soren. “Neither of you will remember this.” When Soren placed her trembling hand in Caligh’s, shadows enveloped her. She turned to face Sadira, who gazed peacefully at their surroundings, seemingly unable to recall why she was there. Soren bit her lip to keep from crying. Sadira could not see her.What will life be like now? she wondered as Sadira passed them both. A pit formed in Soren’s stomach. Perhaps no one would ever see the real her again.
No one ever sees me,whispered the delicate voice in her mind as the memory faded. Soren gasped in sync with Nyzaia, her chest rising and falling with rapid breaths. Slowly, the water settled. She loosened her hand on Nyzaia, hoping their minds were now unlinked. Unable to process what link to her Wiccan blood had caused such a link, Soren focused on slowing her breathing, calmed by the weight of Nyzaia’s arms around her chest, calming the frantic beating of her heart no longer tried to rip free of its cage.
“No one ever sees me,” Soren mumbled. Nyzaia stilled. “No one understands. I don’t understand. I don’t know where I begin, or he ends.” Tears slid down her face, and she desperately wanted to wipe them away. She did not want Nyzaia to see her cry or show weakness. The Queen of Keres had seen so much now, enough to create new torture tactics. But Nyzaia surprised Soren as she slowly removed her arms, splashing the water against the ledge as she lifted herself up. Still, Soren felt her legs remaining either side of her. Soren did not dare move. Seiko no longer growled or whined as Nyzaia dragged the copper bowl brimming with blocks of soap, to the pool’s edge. Seiko faced his keeper, the one good eye flickering just behind Soren to watch Nyzaia.
