If you want to get notified of updates for this serial or chat with me as well as other serial authors, consider joining our discord server!
I awoke to darkness.
All around me, a murky blackness swirled. In long, drawn-out patterns, it spun as though holding my attention just enough to keep me awake. It worked, for the most part. My eyes watched the blank blackness lazily and traced the patterns with whatever mental capabilities were slowly returning to my brain.
Blinking, I lifted my head after a time. I squinted at the darkness and allowed some slowly-forming recognition to take hold in my mind.
It was familiar, I realized. The special type of infinite void that represented the depths of my consciousness rather than a descent down to Death’s door. It was one full of life, full of the memories, concepts, and emotions that ruled my life.
Though, as more painful awareness returned, I figured it represented my infinite descent into madness as well.
Wincing, I closed my eyes again. I relaxed the muscles that I could feel and tried to take stock of the pain my body was in. On the physical side, I didn’t feel much. Any connection to my muscles and bones was foggy at best. As my own thoughts continued to become more complex, I felt the mental side of my fatigue all too well.
Slowly, the memory of what I’d experienced washed back. Riding on waves of discomfort, I remembered our assault on the temple. I remembered how outclassed the cultists had been until Keris arrived. Until they’d summoned a dragon upon us.
And even then, we had carved out some semblance of hope for ourselves. Lady Amelia had been able to resist the dragon’s visage enough to attack Keris himself. Then even that…
It hadn’t been enough.
No hope had remained after Rath’s rise from slumber.
I stiffened, the horrific images playing back before my eyes like ghosts of the past. They couldn’t be true, I told myself.
My own lie wasn’t very convincing.
Whether I liked it or not, the events actually had transpired, and the lives had been lost. So many cultists, so many knights, so many friends. They were gone.
The only reason I’d survived, I remembered, was because of my meeting with another dragon. The only reason Rath hadn’t ended my life with the snap of her fingers was that she needed me. She needed whatever ward of clarity Anath had given me so long ago.
What gave me the right to survive?
The helpless, hopeless unanswerability of the question hurt as much as all my pain. Just thinking about it, I wanted to tilt my head back and scream into the black. I couldn’t. Even as my brain returned to a solid semblance of rationality, I was restrained. My body was unable to move, even here as I floated in my void.
I flicked my eyes down.
Maybe my body wasn’t there at all, I thought. What I could see of it was blurred and undetailed at best, so maybe it was a mental construction. Maybe I was just floating, a lone soul amongst the black.
Maybe. But with how hard it was to push thoughts through my head as it was, I doubted this was my own doing. Even if I didn’t want to admit it, I still felt Rath’s presence within me. And around me, for that matter. She was still there suffocating me from both directions, like I was staring at my brain from the inside out.
Tension rose up in my chest. I tried to push it down, to stay sane and not think about how I was a prisoner in my own head. Anything else, I told myself. Anything to take my mind off—
Warmth brushed over the side of my body. I blinked, halting my train of thought as recognition boiled under the surface. In the side of my vision, a soft white light rose up out of infinite black, and I could feel movement from the back of my head.
I flicked my eyes over, already trying to force my lips to smile at the white flame. Flickering dimly, it crawled out from the back of my mind and surveyed our surroundings as I had done only seconds before.
It was small, I realized as I watched the innocent flame. The light it provided wasn’t as bright as normal. Its warmth wasn’t as comforting. It was battered and strained—I remembered that too.
But it was there. Both of us, against all odds, were alive.
A change in the surrounding blackness. I blinked, pulling my eyebrows together as I tried to recognize what it was. Faintly at first but rising with time, I heard sounds. Soft, hissed, and painful sounds. They crept up like predators from the base of my ears, growing until they all but demanded my attention.
I grimaced as soon as I recognized what they were. I knew resisting Rath’s whispers was useless. The torturous consequences of her presence were painful, sure, but they were still beyond my power. Now, I just had to sit and listen as they ground down my soul.
Eventually, the whispers changed. A more distinct voice rose out of them and actually conveyed meaning into my mind.
“Where is it?” Rath asked, the simple question sending my mind spinning. I knew what she was asking. I couldn’t come up with the answer. It sat too far away from my consciousness, and I was already disoriented.
The void around me shook, sending my thoughts even further off balance as Rath expressed her displeasure. The whispers filtering into my ears loudened. They grew harsh and caustic, attacking me both from within and without.
Still, I didn’t answer. I couldn’t answer. Not with my brain spinning around itself. Each time I went to grasp for the memory I wanted to respond with, it swept away from my reach.
After seconds of rattling up the discomfort, Rath took matters into her own hands.
As though tearing through my soul with a claw, she reached into my mind. I wanted to scream at the onset, but the sound was hollow in my throat. The agony went unexpressed to the outside of my captive cell.
I was paralyzed while Rath rifled through memories, her horrific ethereal claw cutting with a poised and pointed intent.
Before I could figure out what her intent was, however, she was already tearing a memory up. The experience was already rising both in my head and in front of my eyes, ready to force me to relive an experience I knew as my own.
A set of steps made of dark wood, the ones that lead up to my house. They creak under me as I settle in, arching my back to the front doorway and curling my knees in. I squint at the world in front of me, picking it apart for everything it has.
Darkness, draped over the world because of the night. Our fields still gleam in moonlight. Our grass and our crops shine a dim silver glow. They create a wonderful little expanse that our family can call a home.
The trees, looming and awful as they hide secrets inside. Moonlight doesn’t reach between their branches so I cannot see what they hold. It is only blackness beyond where our little path leads. I fear what lurks within, for it could come out at any moment.
A man settles on the steps beside me. I lift my chin and turn away from the woods, letting fear so quickly fade away. My father smiles at me in his perfectly signature way. He melts away all my worries as soon as he begins to speak.
Stars, glittering and beautiful up above, but I don’t pay them any mind. They are merely a backdrop to my night as a smile rises at my lips.
My father’s words enchant my ears, beckoning me to hear more each time. I scoot closer and—
A burning, grating feeling sliced right through my mind as Rath ripped the memory away. For a moment, I tried to hold on. I knew it was useless. Blinking past a scowl, I was only met with the familiar blackness again. No nighttime air. No tales from my father. Nothing. It was all gone.
Yet as I thought back on it, I barely even knew why I cared. With the images playing across the backs of my eyes like phantoms, I hardly recognized the scene. It was something I’d deemed important at some point, but I didn’t know why. The reasoning was too faded now for me to grasp.
The white flame flickered in confusion. It didn’t recognize the memory in the slightest, as though it had been taken from a completely different lifetime.
Grimacing, I tried to ignore Rath’s persistent whispers. Tried to get myself back to a place where I could think clearly. A place that was stable enough for me to understand the conflicting thoughts in my head.
Before I could figure it out, however, Rath was already tearing another memory up. The experience was already rising through a sea of mental pain, and I was helpless to get away from its pull.
A single step made of old wood, the one leading up to my house. Some say it’s older than the town itself. It creaks under me as I settle, a scowl already building on my face. Pulling my cloak in, I try to ignore the cold wind whipping across my face.
A winding cobblestone road that leads out toward the rest of town. Down the way, a few houses pepper its sides between the trees, but our house is more removed than most. It creates a nice secluded space away from the eyes of everybody else.
The town, looming and awful in the distance as it taunts me with whatever the future holds. The expectations of perfection and responsibility to be like my parents. I’m special, they say, but all I feel is tortured. I fear what will happen if I fail before I even begin.
A woman settles on the step beside me, already fixing me with a concerned glare. I don’t turn to her as she grabs my shoulder and holds me close, reassuring me with words only my mother can.
Stars, glittering and beautiful up above. I look at them instead. My mother’s words are merely a backdrop to my wonder as a smile rises to my lips.
The specks of light enchant my eyes, tantalizing me with their vastness and all the possibilities they could hold. I raise my head higher and—
Another round of pain ripped me back to the void. It uprooted me from my body and tore away a moment I’d long come to cherish. A moment full of love and wonder—one that I’d deemed important at some point.
But the reasoning for why was cracked and broken in my head. With Rath’s harsh, angry whispers stabbing my brain at every chance they got, I couldn’t focus on it anyway. It slipped away from my grasp far too fast for my feeble hands to catch.
Beside me, the white flame flickered in understanding. Its light grew brighter as the memory still washing from our eyes registered somewhere deep within it. But I didn’t recognize the memory at all. I only had some vague familiarity with the images as though I’d come across them from a second-hand account.
Before I could figure out what that meant, however, Rath was already tearing another memory up. Her claws were digging into my psyche like dirt, and the experience was already rising too quickly for me to get away.
I walk into the room, my hands trembling and my eyes burning. Wood creaks under my feet as I walk forward toward the bed. The poor, drab furnishing of our house stares at me in judgement. It implores me with phantom eyes as if telling me it’s all my fault.
My mother looks back as I approach. Her face is contorted and distraught, showing all of the pain I feel in my heart across her features. The sight of her makes me weep even more, and I’m not comforted by the weight of the sword dangling by my waist.
My father smiles at me, his face waxen and pale. It is strained and sickly like normal but somehow even worse this time. The sight of fresh blood matted against his bandages almost makes me collapse right there.
Words drift to my ears, short and sweet. My father offers the last piece of advice he will ever give me before my mother’s cries overpower him. He continues to talk, but I can only hear the weeping. The soft whimpers. Cracked and mournful.
After a time, my father closes his eyes a final time. The breaths leaving his lips become shallow, and the world falls out from under me as heat floats off his skin.
I can swear I see the face I am never meant to look at—cracked and bony with eyes as black as coal. I know it has taken my father. I fear what more it could take from me as—
Once again, my soul was thrown. The weeping stopped, and the ghostly image of the beast faded away. Despite the pain, I couldn’t react. I couldn’t even offer so much as a grimace. I was shaken, cut to my core by a memory that had become faded at the edges.
Even if its images were blurred, though, the pain was still there. The sorrow, the loss—all of it. It was still built into my soul. Remembering it hurt far more than anything Rath’s incessant whispers had done.
The white flame crackled in hatred. The kind of deep, burning hatred that stemmed from loss that mirrored what I’d just seen. Even if it didn’t recognize the memory, it knew the pain. It despised the beast as much as I did.
Before I could figure out what it had lost, however, Rath was already tearing another memory up. The sharpness of her claws sliced through my thoroughly-battered psyche, and the experience was already rising too fast.
I walk into the clearing, my eyes dark and the portrait clutched in my hands. Grass crunches underneath my feet as I stop, taking a breath of fresh air. The dim, natural light of the forest around me watches both in concern and assurance.
My mother stares at me as I bring the portrait into view. She is smiling and holding her head high, standing with the poise any guard should have. Even on the worn parchment of a painting more than a decade old, her expression is distinct. Not even the faded colors are enough to detract from her pride.
My father smirks at me as I drag my eyes over to him. Standing next to the woman who would be his wife, he shows no shortage of confidence. Watching the arrogant eyes that I will never get to see again almost makes me cry right there.
Smoke drifts into my nostrils as I conjure the white fire in my hand. I set it on the portrait through blurry eyes. It burns, but all I can see is the smoke. The ashes floating into the air. Full of the lives that the portrait once showed.
After a time, it is nothing but a burnt crisp. The last wisps of smoke leave it, and it is gone in the same way they are. Only this time I saw them go on my own terms.
I can swear I see it standing above the ashes—bleach-white bone gleams in the sunlight above. I know it has taken them from me. I fear what else it could possibly take as—
The first thing I noticed as agony washed away again was the white flame. It burned softly, crackling with sorrow and pain. Continuing its idle dance against the black, it flared up a single time as if to propose a question I felt all too well.
But even though it felt the pain, the recognition of the memory was broken and fractured. It had become lost somewhere along the line as though shattered against a rock.
I twitched, trying to force back tears as I watched it. Because though I didn’t recognize the memory like it did, I knew the pain. I knew the frustration and the hatred of the beast just as intimately.
Death—the white flame said. I blinked, trying to reach out to it for answers.
Before I could figure any of them out, however, Rath was already tearing another memory up. In an act rushed and brutally forceful, the experience was already rising. I didn’t even attempt to resist.
I charge, my blade swinging in wild yet precise strikes. The anger pulses through my veins as I execute attack after attack and push him back against the wall. Loss, a concept all too fresh in my mind. I channel it into my every move.
Finally, he yields, throwing his gauntlet-clad hand up and admitting defeat. I retract my blade and stand, breathless over the field on which we train. But I am not done. Persistence is the only thing I have.
An expression, one of frustration but that is lined in concern. My fellow knight lowers his sword and steps to me. He tilts his head as if imploring me.
I know what he is thinking. The thoughts are displayed clear on his face, but I cannot agree. I cannot give in. Loss of life. It grates upon me, taunting me with the faces of friends I will yet never see again. I fear how far it can go, how many ghosts I will rest on my conscience.
“It’s not your fault,” he says. Words echo through my skull yet they fail to calm me.
“I should be able to do more,” I respond. My statement only deepens the concern on his face, but I hold them tight with my resolve. I raise my sword anew and—
The whispers were furious as I rose back to awareness. The jarring exit barely even registered as pain. I didn’t focus on it. Instead, I focused on the feeling—the fear of my own weakness. I remembered it somehow, even if the specifics were long-since faded away.
The white flame flickered in understanding.
Before I could figure out why, however, Rath was already tearing another memory up. In an act indicative of her waning patience, the experience was already rising. I welcomed it this time, hoping to find answers in its scattered images.
I lean back, taking another swig from the bottle as rain beats down on the street. The liquor goes down with a smooth burn, and I hold onto the sensation. Relief, a concept all too fleeting in my life. I let myself experience it for the moment even through my soaked clothes.
Finally, I yield, setting the bottle down again and taking a sharp breath of the nighttime air. Instead of relaxing, I focus on the task at hand. I rip energy from the air and force it into a single point until it sparks heat all on its own. But I am not done. Persistence is what has allowed me to get this far.
A spark, one that is different than before. One of an energy form beyond what we can normally perceive. Around me, the drunks look on in horror. I push on and keep up the pressure despite the drain on my soul.
I know what they are thinking. The doubts and accusations of insanity are all ones that I have heard before, but I don’t care. I cannot give in. Validation. I need it because I know I am right. I fear how deep the world’s hidden truths may go, but I fear the idea of never finding out more than that.
The concentrated point of energy sparks again. White-hot and extraordinary, it reveals the beyond to my eyes yet collapses before I can push too far.
“I should be able to do more!” I yell to the sky. My declaration only deepens my displeasure with failure I may never get over, but I hold hope tight against my chest. I raise the bottle anew and—
This time, I ignored Rath completely as the memory tore away. The whispers were there. The mental pain was there. The agony of a power beyond me was there. I pushed past all of it.
The reasoning was starting to connect. The dots of information—feelings, memories, and ideas from lifetimes that had all but fallen away—were starting to form a picture. They were filling in gaps of my knowledge, not only of myself but of the white flame as well.
It blazed softly beside me. I turned to it and stared, letting warmth cascade over my skin. The understanding was clear between both of us. We didn’t need words to convey.
Both of us recognized the memories to some degree. Both of us felt the weakness, the sorrow, the pain. But no matter how entrenched the images were in our mind, it wasn’t us.
Not anymore, at least.
All of the memories… they were incompatible. They connected together into a puzzle that was larger than a single life. They didn’t work to form an identity either of us could call ours.
Such an identity existed, though. We’d been living it ever since that cold night in the forest all those months ago. And despite everything both of us had lost, we’d also gained so much.
After a moment, I smiled. The memories faded into the back of my mind, and I felt content with the idea of never seeing them again. Turning to the white flame, I reached—
Pain. Searing, torturous, insufferable pain ripped through my mind, as though my soul were being pulled across itself, scraping through the void the entire way. I felt myself stretched thin. It was as if Rath’s frustration had brought her to tear a hole through my mind only to make her search effort easier.
The whispers picked up, becoming sharper somehow. They ate away at me and raked against my skull like it was a grindstone. Gritting my teeth and trying to keep any form of coherent thought, I—
More agony stopped my attempts. The horrifying sensation rattled up even higher, tearing and scraping through whatever limbs I couldn’t even feel. It was like Rath had redefined the concept of pain simply to make me feel even worse.
As she accelerated through my memories, sifting among each of them exactly where she’d left off, I wanted to wretch. I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs and rip out my nerves. Still, I was frozen. Her presence was powerful enough, even in my own consciousness, to keep me rooted in place.
Rath growled. She disregarded memory after memory in her search for one related to Anath. Each one she came across, whether faded and blurred or broken and fractured, only infuriated her more. The mother of destruction threw all of them out and instead started at the point where the two apparent streams connected. Where two lives joined into one because of a curse by the beast.
For a moment, I almost considered my hatred for it. I almost considered trying to press Rath for information on the reaper as I’d intended to do while marching to her temple.
Now though, it didn’t seem like the best idea.
Slowing down only a hair, Rath calmed as the flashes of images started to resemble my new life. They started getting closer and closer to when I’d first met Anath.
Continuing on her tear, she went through each memory with lightning speed. But even still, I realized, she was looking at some of them more intently. As though using points of fear as a guide, she only took the time to investigate moments at which I’d been terrified the most.
The howling wind nearly shreds my thin body. I know the beast has cursed me, but I will not let it get the best of me. I push on. I have to find—
The man’s fists hit me again and again, covering my face and neck with bruises. I lie back helpless, hoping that I do not need a rematch with the beast. But the man stops. When I open my eyes, he wraps his hands around my neck and—
The pounding of my own blood and the rustling of leaves behind me is all I can hear. The creature is gaining on me, but I—
Another sniff. In the trees to my left, I hear the sound again. Hissed and low. Louder than before. Something tells me I will not hear—
I shook my head, snapping my eyelids shut and trying to remove myself from the memories as they rushed past. Despite my plea for ignorance, the images continued to come. They continued to document all of the lowest, most terrifying moments of my new life.
Even with the pace she’d assumed, Rath wasn’t finding what she wanted. There were too many memories for her to sift through, and she didn’t have the patience to wait.
After forcing me to re-experience the fear I’d felt while facing Keris for the first time, she accelerated the pace even more. Instead of passing in front of my eyes like lightning, the images bled together into a constant stream. A fluctuation of light and color plagued with a sea of chaotic emotion.
Rath didn’t let up. She kept ripping my mind like it was flimsy fabric and forcing agony upon me in a way I couldn’t even describe. Like dragging my body over a bed of burning needles except worse. It was—
It stopped.
Abruptly, the pain vanished. The whispers dampened, and my mind felt spacey, like I was fully and truly floating in a void. The image that focused into view was warped. It was blurry and uncertain. Watching it felt like pushing past a barrier I was never meant to exceed.
Fire. Scorchingly hot and lined in red. It burns through the houses and razes the community I love to little more than a pile of ash.
I blinked, trying to focus on the image. It felt important, after all. It was something I would never forget… yet I didn’t remember it at all. I’d never experienced it before.
Screams. Dozens of them. They easily sound like thousands. All waxing and waning over the sounds of battle. Some are of rangers bleeding in pain. Some are of citizens scrambling out of the way.
I furrowed my brow as a chill ran through my body. Slowly, I was beginning to recognize the scene. Not exactly as it was depicted while billowing in plumes of red flame, but I knew the town by heart. It was the place I called h—
It started again.
All at once, the pain came rushing back and the detached serenity flushed toward excessive n. I went back to getting dragged over a bed of scorching nails, except this time it was in the other direction. Like I was regressing—moving backward through my memories until…
The terror stops. Its scraping fear vanishes, and its murky black form recedes from my vision. With it slinking back to the shadows, it reveals a sight to me.
I froze, my eyes widening and my thoughts screeching to a halt. The white flame froze too, flickering in abject terror. I recognized the memory. We both did.
And I had no doubt that Rath did as well.
A girl. Raven-haired and pale. Grey, bony wings protrude from her back and spread out through the clearing. Scales, covering her body like parasites. For a moment, I want to run, but I don’t. I recognize her.
Already shaking my head, I resisted. I tried to block out the memory from my mind and stop it before Rath got what she wanted. No. It couldn’t be over that quickly, I told myself. Even as the draconic whispers resumed in my ears, I tried to repel her ethereal claw.
Deep down, I knew it was futile. Her power was beyond mine in ways I couldn’t have even conceived. Still, I tried.
I start shaking my head, my eyes flicking to the edges of the clearing. I know the terrors will not let me go without a fight, but I don’t care. Staying here is worse. I know it. The fear is still—
The memory stopped, a moment frozen in pain. For the single instant, I just watched helplessly. Then Rath’s claw went digging. It latched onto the exact source of the memory and tore through my psyche until she found it.
A small weight lifted from my soul, but it was barely noticeable among all the pain. Silently, I kept trying to resist. I kept trying to push back and assert my own will even as awareness slipped away.
Eventually, even the pain receded. With the whispers following in its wake and Rath’s imposing presence not far behind, reality started to spiral away. The void watched me fall with judging eyes, but I disregarded it.
The white flame continued to crackle, warming me all the way to the core. With it, I didn’t mind as much.
This time, I wasn’t as scared to brave the dark.
Patreon
