Page 302 of The Ascended
Heron rose, moving toward the door. "I debated whether to tell you. Hope can be cruel when it's built on such uncertain ground."
I followed him, my mind in shambles. "It’s not hope. It’s a countdown."
Heron nodded slowly. "May fate be kinder to you than it has been thus far, Thais Morvaren. And may the departed not stay that way.”
After he left, I stood in my empty spire, feeling that spark pulse with each heartbeat.
For the first time since Thatcher fell, I felt my lips twitch, corners threatening to tug upwards.
The Abyss had taken half my soul.
In thirty-six years, for seven seconds, I'd have my chance to take it back.
And I would be ready.
Chapter 70
Thatcher
Darkness.
This wasn’t the kind of that follows sunset or lingers in corners. This oblivion devoured light, sound, hope.
I'd become intimate with the dark.
Because I had been falling forever.
My stomach lurched into my chest as the sensation of weightlessness claimed me once more. Vertigo twisted reality as Moros and I tumbled, locked in our desperate struggle. The Primordial grappled with me as we were pulled by some unseen force neither of us controlled.
"Inevitable," Moros hissed, his voice everywhere and nowhere. "Even bound to you, my power draws us across the cosmos."
I couldn't see him in this endless night, but I felt his essence—writhing, ancient, hungry—trying to consume mine. Trying to possess me like he'd possessed Olinthar.
"She'll never find you here," he taunted, voice slithering against my ear. "Your precious Thais can't follow where we're going."
Thais. Golden eyes flashing with determination. Midnight hairstreaming behind her as she ran toward me, fingers outstretched, screaming my name as reality tore open.
The memory burned itself into my mind, becoming my anchor in the chaos.
As long as she was safe—as long as she was far from this monster—whatever happened to me didn't matter.
We passed through something then, a barrier that felt like spiderwebs stretching across my body. It held for a moment, suspending me in the gloom before ripping open and dropping us.
And then there was light. The night sky materialized around us, stars blazing like beacons. Below, pinpricks of firelight revealed a village nestled between mountains.
"Fascinating," Moros whispered. "So, the Esprithean pantheon lives on."
I fought against his grip, tried to wrench myself free while he was distracted. If I could break away now, perhaps I could?—
The lights vanished, and there was only darkness once more.
We crashed into something solid with a force that should have shattered every bone in my body. The impact reverberated through my flesh, my organs, my soul—a symphony of agony that left me gasping.
Crack.
The sound of my body breaking echoed into nothingness. Pain exploded through me, a constellation of suffering that burned brighter than any star. I couldn't breathe. Couldn't move. Couldn't scream.
Yet death refused me its mercy.
