Page 15 of The War of Wings
A silver orb blinked to life, hovering just above the glowing circle on the table. Onera leaned forward now, and with a snap of her long, graceful fingers, a second circle appeared just outside the first one, divided into five segments, each outlined in shimmering gold. “The Forgotten Saints assumed the New World would be built atop the Old World, but that wasn’t what happened. It was built alongside it.” The glowing orb that signified Rhedros began to move, passing over the dark inner circle and settling in one of the segments on the outside. It filled in with a shade of teal, whorls and flourishes of gold moving over its surface. “This is the Saints’ Realm.”
“But Rhedros quickly realized there was another force in the universe, equally as evil as he was good.” Beside Rhedros’ light, a second orb blinked to life — this one a pale gold. Onera nodded. “Katia.”
“And they switched, right? How did Katia become the Keeper of the Benevolent Saints and Rhedros the Keeper of theBlood Saints?” I asked, my eyes moving back and forth between the two orbs.
Soren gave a knowing smile. “A story for another day,” he said simply, and though I wanted to push, I knew those particular details were not the ones that were important right now.
“This here,” Onera continued, pointing to the teal segment dusted with gold, “is the Saints’ Realm. During any other time, that is where all the Saints live. Each of us keep a residence of our own, though Soren does spend a significant amount of time here in Heaven, and Liara in Hell.”
Two more segments faded in from nothing on either side of the Saints’ Realm. To its left was a pink I recognized. It was the same shade of the marble of Soren’s castle. “Heaven,” Soren said with a nod in its direction. The segment to the right of the Saints’ Realm filled in with black. It wasn’t as depthless and inky as the inner circle, but a glassy shade reminiscent of obsidian. Soren’s eyes fell on the newly colored segment. “And Hell.”
The piece of the circle beside Hell filled in with copper, rivets like tiny hammer marks covering its surface. Tolar spoke now. “This is the Human Realm.”
Okay, it all made sense so far. I stared at the segment that signified the Saints’ Realm, leaning closer as I noticed something in one corner. It was…a crack, much like a window that had been struck but hadn’t shattered to pieces. Suddenly, as if disturbed by my stare, the crack began to spread. Darkness leaked in from the inner circle, traveling through the jagged lines and bleeding through the Saints’ Realm.
“That’s…” I stuttered, trailing off. “That’s Malosym, isn’t it?”
Soren nodded gravely. “He made his way into the Saints’ Realm. Overran it completely the night of your birth, which is why we’ve been sheltering in our respective places since then.”
I blinked, the picture before me starting to make more sense. “So the space in the middle that used to be the Old World… That’s the Darkness Beyond, isn’t it?”
The Benevolent Saints each wore the same solemn expression. Soren nodded once.
“Can’t you all just…” I waved my arms in front of me, trying to conjure up a semblance of an idea. “You can’t just go to the Human Realm? Find Malosym and end all of this?”
“The only way for a Saint to enter the Human Realm is if they’re cursed by one of the Keepers,” Aanh said quietly. Which was the only way Noros was able to go to the Human Realm in the first place. Right.
“And being cursed to the Human Realm, giving up one’s Sainthood…” Tolar continued. “They will not find themselves in Heaven or Hell after their human years come to an end. They will cease to exist entirely. And there are certain rules that need to be followed when they leave the Saints’ Realm. They retain their memories as a Saint, but they give up all powers, all notoriety. They are placed into the world as a human of sixteen years and must find their way on their own. And, they must designate a successor to take their place before the end of their human years.”
Onera leaned forward. “And that’s never been done before. Not in the New World, at least.” She and Aanh looked at each other for a brief moment. “Believe us,” Onera continued, “had we thought of it before, we all would’ve asked to be cursed to the Human Realm long ago. We’d gladly give up our posts if it meant there was a chance of ending Malosym. It’s just…not that simple. And with Katia and Rhedros imprisoned…”
“We’re at a bit of a standstill,” Aanh said. “We don’t know how to move forward.”
I collapsed back in my chair, blowing a breath through tight lips. Every question tangled together in my throat, each one begging to be asked first, each one equally as important as the next. “So the Darkness Beyond is somehow both a void and the foundation of life as we know it?”
Soren nodded, hands folded in his lap. “Precisely.”
“The Saints do have the ability to travel between all the Holy Realms… Heaven, Hell, and the Saints’ Realm, provided they are in possession of a relic imbued with their power,” Onera continued. “The reason they cannot travel to the Human Realm is because it was strictly forbidden by the Forgotten Saints when they created the New World. But Malosym is not of the New World, so, unlike humans and the Saints, he has the ability to pass through realms freely,” Onera continued, but then she raised a brow. “But it’s not without conditions. It requires a considerable amount of power, power which he has been building since crossing into the Human Realm.”
The way he presented himself at the end of the battle, a man made of shadows and smoke… How much power had that taken? How much power had it taken for him to create a rift between the Human Realm and the Darkness Beyond, the rift I fell through?
An idea sparked to life in my mind. “Where does his power come from? Can we somehow find it? Destroy it?”
All four of the Saints in front of me shifted uncomfortably in their seats, their features ranging from mournful to disdain. A thick beat of uncomfortable silence passed before Tolar finally spoke, “He, and the demons of the Occulti… They feed on pain. That’s the source of their power.”
My jaw slackened, my heart quickening as I sat ramrod straight in my chair. The line in the prophecy…On pain the demons feed.Pain. He fed on pain. An unlimited power source.
“Fuck,” I murmured, scrubbing a hand over my mouth. “I just… It’s all starting to make sense.” How much pain he’s caused, by his hand or by controlling someone else’s. Working his way into society, keeping his social standing and his metaphorical hands clean while he convinced others to cause pain for him.
“What about this one?” Larka asked, leaning forward and pointing a finger to the final uncolored segment of the circle. I’d been so consumed by the other four I hadn’t even noticed it remained untouched. “What is this?”
A deep breath left Soren’s nose. “This area is inhabited by the Sanguilite.”
“The Sanguilite…” I said, my eyes narrowing at the deep red color that bled across the last segment. In fact, it looked like blood — a pool of it inhabiting the last piece of the outer circle. “I’ve heard of the Sanguilite,” I murmured, thinking back to Alvar. “The Bloodsinger in Aera…” I trailed off, trying to remember what he’d said.
“Damn Bloodsingers,” Tolar grumbled under his breath.
Soren’s expression was grim. “The Sanguilite is of the Old World, as well.” I swore under my breath. Another one? “She toes the line between her own realm and the Darkness Beyond.”
