Chronicles of Death

Veran’s body lay on the ground. Lifeless.

Could it really be this easy?

The palace trembled as if sensing its master was gone. Katya wiped the blood from her blade onto Veran’s rainbow cloak. Then she walked back to the steps before the throne and sat upon them.

More trembling.

Veran’s passing hadn’t caused the commotion. No, rebellion was at hand. Cordelia had kept her word. She was storming the castle with her troops.  

War was being waged just beyond the prison of Veran’s own making. Katya sat, waiting.

It wasn’t long before the doors to the throne room were shoved open and soldiers entered, blades at the ready. Their approach stopped abruptly as all eyes fell on the body of Veran. Soldiers then turned to Katya who sat before the throne, her identity still hidden behind her mask and armor.

Murmurs followed.

One blade lowered and the rest followed. Soldiers bowed before her. Katya watched silently, confused. The soldiers parted to make room for Cordelia. The commanding General made her way to the front, shouting, shocked that her soldiers had given up their fight. Katya stood, sheathing the Godkiller blade. Then she bowed politely to Cordelia.

Cordelia’s gaze fell upon the body of Veran, lifeless, then back to Katya. “You did it.” A long-held truth had died alongside the God King.

The Gods could be killed and by mortal hands at that. Paya had been murdered prior to this but by another God. No one thought it possible even then.

“What now?” A soldier asked Cordelia nervously.

Katya descended the stairs and the soldiers collectively backed up, raising their weapons in fear. What had she become to them? A myth? A legend? Another false truth?

“We live.” Cordelia answered, her voice thick with emotion. Katya turned away. “We bow to no one. No King. No tyrant. We learn to stand on our own two feet.” Cordelia approached, standing alongside her. “There are no words that can express our gratitude. Change is overdue but it would never be possible with Veran as our King.”

“Who are you?” A soldier asked boldly.

“Tell us the name of our hero.” Another agreed.

“Stories will be told of your great deeds.”

That was her cue to leave. She wasn’t a hero. She’d ended lives. Led a rampage. There was blood on her hands. She walked to the covered window and all eyes were on her. Cordelia turned back to her soldiers and ordered them to continue the occupation of the palace. To secure soldiers still loyal to Veran and tend to the injured. Some were making certain that Veran was dead.

Katya didn’t need to double check.

She’d felt his death.

She couldn’t shake that it had been so easy.

This couldn’t have always been the case. Was it the corruption Vrana spoke of? Or was it because he had given up his gift without realizing he would lose it with only a word?

Power flowed through her veins. Immense, terrible power. She felt invincible.

Her stomach twisted with unease.

Veran’s power along with the pact magic that once belonged to Cordelia was now hers. Katya could feel it. Burning. Strength, might, magic, all boiled within her blood. It was overwhelming. She felt as though she might burst at the seams.

What happened next? She hadn’t discussed it with Raven. Part of her never expected to succeed. She had been ready to die at the hands of a God in an attempt to complete an impossible task. Kill the Gods or die trying.

But she hadn’t died. She’d killed a God.

Vrana had promised that when she’d completed her task then Lupinaio would be free. That the magic of the Gods that they claimed kept Lupinaio thriving would become the magic of Lupinaio itself. They would not need Gods. She pried the boards from the window with shocking ease. She did it with such strength that all eyes turned to her.

She must have looked like a supernatural being to Cordelia and her troops.

She was not. She did not wish to be.

“Join us, stranger.” Cordelia approached, speaking softly. Katya turned back to the General. “We could use another leader. His wives have been brought to safety. We are going to help return them to their families. The prisoners who defied him are being freed too.” Cordelia wanted help with what came next, but it was not Katya’s place. She was not a citizen of Mahinaka. These were not her people.

She sat on the ledge of the window. Cordelia smiled in understanding.

“Thank you.”

Katya turned so her legs were draped over the outside of the windowsill then threw herself away from the palace. In a blink she became the raven and flew into the distance without looking back.

For a time, she circled Murne and watched the chaos unfold. She expected Veran’s soldiers to fight in his name. Some seemed blindly devoted. But word of his death spread, and the armies surrendered. There was nothing to fight for with him gone. What happened next was up to the people of Mahinaka.

It would take decades to entirely dismantle a cruel system- one that had existed for centuries. Change was never easy. Most of the elves living in Mahinaka would not live to see the results of this change.

She could only hope that Lysette and her armies wouldn’t take advantage of their leaderless state and crush the progress Mahinaka and its peoples made.

Even if the Supreme Goddess did, that would be temporary too. Lysette was bound for the sharp end of her blade. All the Gods were.

Katya left Murne behind, flying west for the remainder of the day and well into the night. Veran’s tremendous magic made her fly faster and longer than she could have previously. It was incredible. A high like no other but tremendously painful too. An addiction. A terrible, magnificent addiction. No wonder the Gods were corrupt.

Katya flew the length of Mahinaka and landed near the bridges that connected it to the central continent of Layabre.

Layabre- a no man’s land at the center of all the occupied continents of Lupinaio. It teemed with dark magic and corruption, beyond conquering by any God and uninhabitable. The New Gods had tried to conquer it many times and failed. Those who dared go beyond the tree line were never heard from again.

It had been centuries since anyone had tried to take Layabre, she’d read. There were no viable resources there. It was like the very world was rotting at its center. A monument to the death of Lupinaio. This rot was only kept at bay by the Gods caring for the outer continents. Or at least, that’s what they were told.

Katya stepped upon the bridge and released the form of the raven. Pamea, the bridge was called. Two massive bridges that led from the northern and southern shores of the western coast of Mahinaka to Layabre. They stood like beacons creeping from the fog, like fingers of long-forgotten Gods.

Walking along the haunting bridge through the fog, she half-expected the seas to rise and for those long-forgotten Gods to greet her. To wipe her from existence or drive her to madness.

But there was nothing but wind and the distant roar of the ocean below.

Once frequently traveled paths beyond the bridge were now impassable with overgrowth. Dark weeds and roots crept, greedily pulling the roads into their possession. Boughs of trees, gnarled and twisted, stretched over the road, creating haunting canopies of shadow.

Willing away her armor, Katya tended to minor scrapes and bruises but found that they caused her no pain. In fact, they were already fading. The Gods felt like this all the time. No wonder they’d succumbed to corruption and greed. To feel invincible and powerful at all times? She couldn’t fathom. It was like an illness taking over her mind. She imagined it was worse for the Gods who had never known any different.

The mark on the back of her shoulder allowed her frail mortal body to contain these powers that would otherwise, likely, destroy her from the inside out. Adrenaline was fading.

She was exhausted. It’d been over a day since she’d slept. Even so, the power of Veran kept her alert and strong. She could have gone days without sleep. Without food or drink. All because of his magic.

The mark on her shoulder ached with violent power, begging for escape. It whispered for her to take it, to wield it, to allow it to consume her. It was tempting. It would be a lie to say it wasn’t.

Footsteps beyond the shadows of the greedy brush caught her ear. She stood alert, sword at the ready, mask and armor returning at her will. Nothing good came of Layabre.

“You’ve done well.” Raven emerged from the shadows of the trees, melting out of them as though he was born of them. He bowed. She pictured the branches reaching for him, pulling him back and claiming ownership. Katya lowered her blade and rid herself of the armor and mask.

She was overwhelmed. So much so that she felt numb.

She’d taken so many lives and had done it with disturbing ease. Should she feel guilty? Or relieved? She was neither. She felt nothing. No victory. No guilt. Instead, there was a weight. Like she was marked. These sins would burden her until her last breath.

But this was bigger than her. Bigger than the lives she took and the weight of them. No matter how the end came, her life was forfeit. Vrana stood constantly behind her, making her capable of pulling strings she’d never once in her life dreamt of budging.

“How does it feel?”

“What do you mean?”

Raven approached, a familiar smirk upon his lips. “Veran’s power. How does it feel?”

“Vile.” She stared into the darkness beyond him. Layabre swallowed all it could reach.

“Are you tempted by it? To kill the Gods and become one yourself? Terrible and supreme?”

“No.” The idea of being like them disgusted her.

“Not even a little tempted?” Raven approached curiously. He was testing her, voice low and dangerous. Sultry.

“I have no aspirations to lead. Or to be a God. I’m barely fit to be an elf. But yes. If you’re asking me if I find this power addicting? Yes. I do. It’s terrible. I felt invincible at times. But with each breath, I feel weight. I feel corruption. Like illness spreading through my veins. The sooner you take it from me, the better.”

“I personally think the best quality for a leader is the lack of desire for power.” Raven’s usual smirk was gone, his bright eyes studying her. “Kneel.”

Katya placed her sheathed sword upon the ground next to her as she sat upon her knees. Raven stared down at her, and she admired his stature. Shadows behind him blurred, as if the air grew thin, revealing another world hidden just beyond her sight. An image formed beyond the veil, an image that Katya had only feverish memories of from when she’d made her pact.

Vrana.

Three times her size. Menacing. A hulking figure beyond rationale.

Her breath caught in her chest, a mixture of fear and curiosity.

Curved horns pierced the heavens, black wings unfolded with a whip, darkening the sky with feathers and shadow. Wide, slanted eyes, completely white, fell upon her and she shuddered. A horrible weight fell upon her shoulders, and she placed her hands upon Layabre to hold herself upright, just barely. The winged mark on her shoulder burned suddenly hot and blinding.

Pain spread like liquid creeping down her skin, as though something horrible poured from within the tattoo. It spread through her back and her chest, constricting her lungs. Spots blinded her vision, but large, godly hands grasped her shoulders tenderly and kept her from collapsing.

“You’re okay.” Raven’s voice cut through the pain, directly in front of her. It was not Vrana who held her upright but Raven.

Veran’s essence, his magic, his being, all the things that made him a God were being torn violently from her body through the mark upon her shoulder. It was only then that she realized how quickly it spread in such a short amount of time. Sweat beaded on her skin and she could feel each drip set off her nerves. Her fingers dug into the soil of Lupinaio so deeply that she could no longer see her hands beneath thick, clay-like earth.

The darkness in the clay began to change. It shifted, as though the darkness was being drained from it. Like infection being drained from a wound. From beneath the dirt, a rainbow light grew, dim at first. Then it grew beneath the soil, spreading away from her, like arteries flowing with magic through Lupinaio.

What felt like an eternity was over in just a few moments.

Veran was gone. Returned to Lupinaio as Vrana had promised.

Exhausted, Katya collapsed on her side.

Raven’s strong arms lifted her, urging her back onto her knees. Steadying her, he waited to be certain she could keep her balance then let go. He kept one hand at her shoulder just in case.

“You’re okay.” He repeated. His voice was low and monotone, as always.

Vrana was gone. So was Veran’s magic.

The wind was warmer. She could have been imagining it, but she didn’t think she was. Layabre seemed a little less miserable. He’d really done it. She’d really done it. It was as though the Godly magic of Veran was back where it belonged. That couldn’t be the truth, not with what she knew of the Gods, but she considered that maybe she didn’t know as much as she thought. These last few weeks had humbled her. So much of Lupinaio’s truth was a mystery.

Still, if the New Gods had been born of the magic of the Old Gods, then why did it feel like she was righting a tremendous wrong by returning Veran to Lupinaio?

She was changed. Not simply because she understood that she knew almost nothing. Not only because she had killed a God. It was something else entirely. It was a humbling understanding that her life would likely end completing this task. And she was at peace with it.

She urged Raven’s hand away and sat upon her heels. Something warm remained after the loss of Veran. Not a sense of ease, or relief, but something powerful. Magic. Magic remained. She held her hands with her palms toward the sky and as if guided by unseen Godly hands she allowed fire to engulf them. It was born of magic; magic she did not have before this.

The fire didn’t burn. It didn’t hurt. It wasn’t even warm. It was, however, beautiful. She had been gifted magic as a reward for killing Veran. For doing her duty. She never would have asked for it but still it remained, burning within her. It resonated with the magic that Vrana had gifted her with their pact. It was like a song with its harmony. Singing together in a peaceful melody.

There was no poison in this magic like there had been with Veran’s. It was just the opposite. It was love. Pure love. Love for Lupinaio and all within it. And it wasn’t just fire but all the elements. In honor of Veran. She wondered if the New Gods had ever been more than corrupt. It weighed heavily on her to think that they had once loved Lupinaio with the grace of this magic.

“A warning would have been nice.” Katya finally spoke. From the look of it, Raven was weary as well. The task had drained them both.

“I confess that none of us knew what the process would be like. It required all three of us.” Raven leaned back on his heels much like she did.

“Why gift me more power? I don’t need more power.”

“You earned more power. And you will need all the help you can get for the task ahead. If you do not wish to use it, then don’t. Vrana recommends you do. I can help you learn how to control and harness it.”

“All I require for this task is strength and fortitude which he has gifted me in spades.” Katya assured him. Much to her surprise, he brushed the loose, messy white hair from her face. He smiled at her befuddled expression.

“Rest assured that Veran has been given to Lupinaio. When the final God has fallen, Lupinaio will have all it needs to thrive. The fate of your kind will be where it always should have been. In the hands of your people.”

“Good.” Katya would keep the gift. Raven was right. Or Vrana. Whoever the hell was speaking to her. There was an uphill battle ahead. If she had a choice, after it was over, she would sleep for eternity. Her job would be done. “What now?”

“Nanaya, perhaps.”

“Really?” Her moment of reflection had passed. She laughed. “Are you sending me to the Gods with the worst reputations first? Inverno is a monster by all accounts.”

“They all are.”

“Nanaya is too close to Mahinaka.” It was just west of Mahinaka, in fact. Only a week’s walk from where they currently sat. It was the northernmost country of Lupinaio. Inverno, the self-proclaimed God of Desire was its King.

Raven laughed, a quiet, pleasant sound. She was rarely attracted to men. Raven was an exception. “Fine. What about Sugata? Put some distance between you and the chaos unfolding in Mahinaka.” Raven was right. They were all terrible choices. Sugata was the southernmost country in Lupinaio and ruled over by Inverra, twin sister to Inverno. The self-proclaimed God of Pain. She was a glutton. An absent Queen who allowed terrible things to befall her people as long as she remained in the comfort of her palace.

The Gods were all born as twins from the magic of the Old Gods who had emerged from the nothingness. It was said that they balanced each other out.

Raven’s exhaustion was long gone. He recovered far faster than she did. Magic users, she supposed.

“Sugata it is.” Katya stood and Raven did so behind her. She stumbled as they walked. He took her hand to steady her as though it were second nature to guide her.

“You will recover first. Take a few days. We will train with your new gifts then we will go to Sugata and see what there is to see. What you just accomplished will change the shape of our war.”

“I suppose we don’t have to worry about Inverra fleeing anywhere Vrana can’t send me.” Besides that, Inverra was known for being a shut in. She rarely left her palace outside of public appearances and even so those happened in the capital city just outside of her palace.

“I don’t think any of them will run. I don’t think they’ll hide either. There’s nowhere for them to go.” Raven offered her his arm. She took it. “Inverra is blind to all but her own needs. Yet, she is powerful. Pain is a terrible but mighty magic.” Katya closed her eyes in preparation and in a blink, they were in Vranna. The gifts that Raven possessed were extraordinary. His home stood before her, ocean waves rolling in on the beaches beyond with a furious wind.

There was peace there unlike any she’d felt before.

It was beautiful. Beautiful in ways she hadn’t understood existed until she’d seen it. Raven did not rush her, keeping his hand upon her back to steady her.

She’d done it. Against all odds. She’d accomplished the impossible.

Raven patted her shoulder and gestured behind them. “Come. There’s a spring beneath the house where you can rest your weary bones. Your room is already prepared.”

“Thank you.” Katya never asked how his home was prepared or why it was so grand and mysterious. It was full of magic, ancient and lovely. Even so, she’d never seen as much as another soul within. “Would you join me?”

“In the springs?”

“Yeah.”

“If you so desire.” Raven’s smile had at last returned. “I would say that we have earned a drink.”

“I more than agree.”