I can feel the roaring power inside, the one I’ve held back every moment of this existence. Because I know what he is capable of.
Free me, and I’ll help you protect her.
My stomach sinks. He knows. And his word means nothing. There is no real reason to believe he’ll live up to his promise.
I want her alive. She will be very useful in the days to come.
I clench my fists. He doesn’t realize how sickening of a threat that actually is. He does not understand the human heart. He does not know the power.
He hisses in response, feeling my rejection.
I can do this—become their commander while using the magic I despise just enough to remain in control to mitigate the damage.
You are not that strong,he tells me.
“We are the rightful rulers of this land—of all lands. We will claim every inch of soil. Azkel Haze, do you swear to the Ancient, the followers of Nihil, and your own drakai, to claim your power.Do you swear that you will not rest until the blight has surpassed his chains and rules once more?”
My stomach sours.
You will pay if you deny me.
I will pay the price, yes. But she will not.
“Yes,” I bark out with the confidence of a much more powerful man.
I took a life when I was sixteen and let the magic inside. It was an irreversible shift in fates. A choice I’ll forever regret. But it was only one step.
I have successfully balanced on this tightrope in this space between. I’ve feigned weakness as the reason for my failure to thrive.
Now, they will know it was always a lie. I had the power, but I resisted it.
I will not have that opportunity anymore. The power will rise up in me. I will be forced to become the commander they desire.
I may not facilitate their prophecy of horror as I promise, but I cannot hide in the shadows of my mind any longer. Survival now will require much more of me.
My faith in a woman who doesn’t even know me will doom me. Maybe it will doom the whole world. It is a failure, as I fall into the fire to claim the role I swore I would never accept.
Fiery red consumes my vision. My skin melts. My soul disintegrates.
I scream. The human inside roars in pain I’ve long concealed.I’m sorry, I tell him.I tried to protect you from this.
And then, the Nihil inside of me ignites. Black flames covering every inch.
He cannot allow me to die from the flames or he too will be wiped from this world.
Death is not a god, as we are told.
Death is a curse. We are an entire people whose very existence is predicated on the torment of others. We are predators who must kill to survive.
A people seeking to spread their curse so that we never have to face the sad reality of our own illness. We pretend it is a blessing. We pretend this power makes us special.
And if we succeed, the world will be blackened, and all good will be gone.
Can a pure world ever result from such suffering? I do not believe so.
It is a never-ending cycle.
We worship death because it is our only legacy.
