Page 7 of Return of the Darkness
A strangled yelp pierced the air, followed by a wave of growls and whines. Soren spun as the wolf’s head separated from its body, and its sable fur caught alight. The damned wolf saved her. Nyzaia cursed, but her words were swallowed by Soren’s earth-shattering scream. Stumbling onto her knees, Soren reached through the flames decimating her wolf’s dead body.
“Baelyn!” Soren screamed. “No, no, no!”
Nyzaia paused; she had never seen such emotion from her before, only fury. With a wave of her hand, Nyzaia extinguished the flames before Soren burned alive. She wanted to be the last person Soren saw before death. The growls grew louder now, prompting Nyzaia to reach for her dagger. Yet the rest of the pack paid Nyzaia no attention as they prowled towards Sir Cain. A second sable wolf howled, lying flat on the ground beside the charred body. Soren’s screams turned to roars as her body rose and fell with rapid breaths. She reached for the approaching white wolf and buried her face into her fur before rising.
Slowly, the fallen queen stalked towards Sir Cain. While Nyzaia could not see her face, she imagined the pained fury twisting her features. Now she knew the weight of loss, but it was not enough. It was not revenge. Nyzaia followed her footprints to where Garridon’s soldiers formed a line before Sir Cain with their swords raised.
“You killed her!” Soren screamed.
“And you’re next,” he said, his words thick with promise.
“You killed her,” she whispered. “She’s dead.” Soren clutched her head. “She’s dead, she’s dead.” Nyzaia was only a step away now. “She’s dead; how can she be de—” Soren stumbled, backing up into Nyzaia’s chest.
The scent of pine needles struck the air when Soren whirled, whipping Nyzaia’s face with her braids. She was stuck between two people who wanted her dead. Nyzaia ignored Soren’s widened doe eyes; it was as though the pain of death finally made her realise the consequences of her actions. Nyzaia dropped her sword, the blade clanging against the discarded weapon at Soren’s feet. Nyzaia thought of Kazaar’s bloodied body on the sands, the life seeping from him while Elisara held him, sobbing. She thought of his laughter when they ran together as children, and the safety she felt whenever he was near. Nyzaia thought of every moment Kazaar would miss in her and Elisara’s future. Fuelled by these thoughts, Nyzaia swung. Her fist collided with Soren’s jaw, sending her stumbling into a Garridon soldier. Sir Cain shoved her towards the queen again when Caellum pushed through into the clearing, pausing at his commander’s side. His eyes were wide, taking in the sight.
“What’s going on?” he commanded, but Nyzaia ignored him. When Nyzaia swung again, Soren did not bother defending herself. A resounding crack followed as blood spurted from Soren’s nose, spraying both women.
“It’s your fault!” Nyzaia screamed, kicking Soren in the shin. Her wolves approached then, snapping their teeth. Nyzaia could not fight them all off.
“Down,” Soren commanded, spitting out blood. With their swords raised, the soldiers cautiously circled the wolves, preventing them from reaching Soren. She did not fight when Nyzaia straddled her, pinning her arms beneath her legs.
“He’s dead because of you!” Nyzaia shrieked in sync with her next punch. Scream. Punch. Scream. Punch. Nyzaia maintaineda steady rhythm of hatred while Soren’s blood sprayed her face. Blood filled Soren’s mouth as she gurgled and angled her head, reaching for her dead wolf. Why wasn’t she fighting? Why was she letting this happen?
“Nyzaia!” a voice she knew all too well screamed. Glancing up through her lashes and the hair falling free from her braid, Nyzaia’s chest rose and fell heavily as she glared at Tajana kneeling on the floor. Tears spilled from her blackened eyes. “She’s had enough,” Tajana sobbed. “Please.”
As the tears fell down Tajana’s cheeks, she recalled the absence of her tears during the moments she hurt Nyzaia, the woman said to be the love of her life.
“She's had nowhere near enough,” Nyzaia spat. Soren was silent and unmoving as Nyzaia rose to stand, wiping the sweat from her brow. With her head lulled to one side, Soren’s swollen eyes focused only on the wolf’s corpse. Nyzaia’s eyes met Caellum’s.
“She was working for Caligh. She was meant to assassinate you, and she’s the reason Kazaar is dead,” Nyzaia spoke plainly, watching the King of Garridon, whose jaw tensed as he peered down at Soren. “Technically, she is your prisoner, but I want her.” Nyzaia kicked Soren’s arm to check she was still alive, eliciting a groan from the traitor. Nyzaia watched Caellum with steely eyes, waiting. Caellum assessed Soren on the desert sand and then glanced sideways at a distant treetop. Nodding, he turned back to Nyzaia.
“I’ll have my soldiers hold her until this is done,” Caellum said, gesturing to a handful of soldiers and Sir Cain.
“I want the wolves too,” Nyzaia requested. Growls erupted from where the soldiers had entrapped them.
“It won’t be long now,” Caellum said. Nyzaia frowned until her focus returned to the battle. Overcome with fury, she had blocked out the surrounding battle. Garridon and Nerida’s soldiers had secured their side of the island; the sands had returned, and the moat was gone. On the other side, over the sea of deep blue uniforms, shadow soldiers battled those in copper. Caligh’s army hadnearly halved. They could win, Nyzaia realised. They could take Caligh down and save their kingdom. “Nyzaia!” Caellum shouted. Behind him, men dragged Soren away. He pointed behind Nyzaia to where Osiris stood, flourishing his hand. Weak shadows appeared, pushing Nerida’s soldiers aside. He began moving, holding Tajana’s chain and leading her to the other side of the battle, where Caligh stood.
“Not him as well,” Nyzaia muttered at yet another man with the power to wield darkness, though his strength appeared hindered by Caligh’s control. Nyzaia made to step forward and follow, but darkness exploded like it had in the first battle, forming a wall that kept the surviving army from reaching Caligh. Nyzaia rushed forward, parting the lines of Nerida’s soldiers until she reached the wall. A suffocating sense of déjà vu overcame her when she pressed her hand against the wall of shadows, watching Caligh and Elisara face one another again.
Chapter Four
Elisara
The darkness felt comforting as it wrapped around Elisara like Kazaar’s arms once had—a moment to forget the pain in her chest, rattling with every step she took. She did not know how she had conjured the wall of darkness encircling her and Caligh. It towered so high, Elisara could not see its end. Perhaps it reached the clouds. While the dark walls appeared daunting, the threads of light interspersed within the whirling smoke reminded her of the starfall on the Unsanctioned Isle. Did it differ from Caligh’s shadows and the black of her soldiers because of Sitara’s essence within her? Did the Goddess of Dusk’s affinity for the night sky and the beauty of the stars reside in Elisara’s power? Perhaps this wall would protect everyone outside of it, while Caligh, Osiris, Arik, and Tajana, having dived forward when the wall appeared, remained within. The darkness sang to her in a way that promised peace of mind. She wished it would speak to her in literal words. While she sensed the souls in her army, she longed to hear their voices to alleviate her mind’s solitude. Had Caligh understood that feeling once? When he first wielded his dark power? She assumed not, yet every villain had an origin story. Perhaps Kazaar’s death was hers.
Elisara was done with others telling her what to do or how to behave, what her life was, and how it should be. They told her she would be a good wife, then a queen. That her celestial tie with Kazaar could win them a war. And when Caligh finally took his life, Caligh promised she was next. Sitara told her to wield the power of four alongside her darkness to defeat Caligh and findSonos. Elisara wanted to tell them all to fuck off. With her power, she could kill Caligh and prevent him from using her in his warped plan, whatever that might be.Think of what you and I could create.Had he truly intended to use Elisara to turn Novisia’s citizens into something horrifying? Given the little Sitara revealed, Elisara was unsure of Caligh’s intentions. All she trusted was her gut, which told her there was something far bigger at play.
Elisara had no patience or empathy, no desire to do anything for anyone except herself. All she wanted was to exact her need for vengeance. But what remained for her after that? Only an empty heart and an army of darkness, none of which mattered right now. All that mattered was figuring out how to kill the man before her, assessing Elisara like a proud father. With a glint in his eye, he admired the shadow wall.
“I knew it would work.” He smirked, tucking his hands behind his velvet cloak. “I knew killing him would release your power.” Remembering Sitara’s warning he would assume as much, Elisara refrained from rolling her eyes. She controlled every part of her power. Elisara could have ignored that first flicker of a flame beneath her skin, but Kazaar’s memory was all it took to release the powers Sitara had planted. For twenty-six years, the goddess’s essence squirmed around the fragment of onyx under her skin, trying to break free. Now, it was awake and hungry.
“What did you hope to achieve?” Elisara asked. She itched to move her fingers and make the shadows do something—anything. Caligh chuckled again.
“You are a goddess. You understand that, don’t you?” Caligh tilted his head, waiting for an answer.
“I was not birthed by Sitara,” Elisara said. Caligh shook his head.
“No, but her essence lives within you. Anybody created from the essence of a god—or holds the essence of a god within them—becomes of the same affinity.”
