Page 320 of Dawn of Chaos and Fury
Achaz’s smile was anything but light and life. It was cold and wicked, eyes glowing brighter at the idea of taking anything from Arius. “Bring him.”
The seraph shoved Theon into the circle before the mirror, and Achaz’s lip curled in disgust. “You look just like him. A prophecy then. I will watch you die as a preview of the day I get to watch him do the same.”
“That’s not how the prophecy goes,” Tessa cut in. “Do you want to hear a story?”
Achaz’s eyes flashed to her, narrowing. “No,” he gritted out.
“That’s disappointing,” Tessa said, pushing to her feet. “I tell great stories. Right, Theon?”
Theon was watching her, his features tight. “The best stories, clever tempest. In fact, it’d be great if you could tell me one of a female who went rogue and nearly killed them all.”
“She sounds delightful,” Tessa replied wistfully, letting more and more of her power out. Watching it spread across the floor. Up the glass walls to the domed ceiling. “But I have another to tell.”
“Not now,” Achaz snapped.
“In all things, there must be balance,” Tessa recited. “Beginnings and endings. Light and dark. Fire and shadows. The skies, the seas, the realms. But when the scales tip, and Chaos rains, who will fight and who will fall?”
Her magic swirled faster, her bow appearing in her hand.
“For Dark must bow.” Her gaze slid to Theon, his lips curling into an amused smile as he bowed his head to her. “And Light must rule.”
She nocked an arrow to her bow, Rordan lurching forward, but Theon snapped out a whip of darkness, throwing him against the mirror. The Hunters glided forward, and she let that arrow fly. Then another. And another.
“But Chaos does not choose. Control the uncontrollable, or to Fury they both lose,” she recited as the last Hunter faded into nothing.
Light and dark exploded, colliding as Theon and Rordan both summoned the full extent of their gifts, but her magic encased the room. While they fought for dominance, she sliced her palm, finding those Marks on the floor. She danced around them, her blood spilling and the Marks flaring as she fell deeper and deeper into her Chaos.
“Life must give, and death must take,” she sang, her voice rising with each word. “But Fate requires more.”
“No!” Achaz bellowed, hands slamming against the mirror. “Impossible. He is not Arius. He cannot hold that much power.”
Tessa had completed her circle, the glass walls around them cracking now. She could hear Luka slamming into them over and over. Staying near. Good. Because she wasn’t entirely sure how this was going to end. Not anymore.
Theon and Rordan were an equal match. Power stolen and magic freely given.
But she was more.
She strode into the circle, her Chaos merging with Theon’s darkness and strengthening it. Her light merged too, but with Rordan’s power, turning it around and pushing it back against him. The same way she’d once turned Theon’s power on him. It shoved him against the mirror, and she plucked a blade from Theon’s belt.
“Destiny beckons, and sacrifice demands,” she hissed, slicing that dagger across Rordan’s palms while Theon’s darkness held him in place. And when she finished, she tugged on Theon’s power, using cords of his magic to turn Rordan. They forced him to his knees and his palms to the glass, his blood smearing on the smooth surface.
Then she shoved Theon out of the circle with a mighty surge of her Chaos.
“Tessa!” he yelled as he went flying, shadows wings bursting free and hopefully keeping him on his feet.
Rordan was thrashing. Light flaring as it tried to fight against her hold, but she was drawing from Theon. Taking and taking as she lifted her eyes to meet Achaz’s in the mirror once more.
“Who will be left standing,” she continued, feeling her feet lift from the floor. As her light and dark wound around her. As energy erupted, bouncing off the glass keeping them enclosed.
Then she started reciting the words. Words she’d listened to her mother recite over and over again as the Ladies sacrificedtheir power for their kingdoms, atoning for the wrongs they’d brought upon the realm. The lying. The deceit. The hunger and the greed.
She’d memorized those words. Internalized them. Tucked them away, and now as she spoke them, her Chaos snarled and snapped, trying to take the power that was flowing from Rordan into the mirror gate.
Achaz was cursing her. Theon was yelling her name. Luka was still trying to find any way in.
And still she recited the words, letting her power build and build.
She’d planned to come find this mirror gate after the battle was done. Still planned to find the others. She’d call it luck that Rordan had brought her here, but luck had never played a part in her life. Neither had coincidence. Call it fate. Call it destiny. She didn’t really care anymore. This forgotten realm was her purpose, and she didn’t like it when people touched what was hers to protect.
