Chapter 25
Mercy
Down, down, down—I fall. Through the swirling black shadows. My descent feels endless, as if I’ll never stop. The air whips past, spinning me around until I finally collide into a field of marigolds. The golden, soft petals cushion my fall as if I’m weightless—nothing more than shadow. Aside from the endless field of flowers and the coal-black sky, there’s nothing else here. Not even a breeze. Panic rises in my throat, threatening to erupt. A faint hum of energy—magic, I can only assume—crackles at my fingertips in response.
Silence surrounds me in the surreal field of flowers. Everything is pleasant and calm. So why do I have a bad feeling about this? I close my eyes, wishing Azrael was here, or even Marblas. Loneliness creeps in, lapping at the edge of my emotions, waiting to pounce. My stomach heaves. Something isn’t right. The air is too still. The flowers, too vibrant. The world, too quiet. I must be dreaming. No one will come to rescue me frommy dreams. All I can do is face whatever my subconscious has created.
Suddenly, three silver mirrors plummet from the void above, slamming into the earth with a bone-deep thud. The ground beneath my feet trembles, promising to give way and leave me falling once again. I try to turn and run, but I’m stuck in place. The marigolds that broke my fall now restrain me. Their leaves and stems wind tightly around my legs—some stretch to wrap around my wrists. This isn’t a dream. This is a nightmare. There’s nowhere to run, and certainly no way to hide from whatever waits within those mirrors.
Before me, inky black pools of glass flicker inside of the gleaming metal frames. Intricate etchings glow gold as electricity crackles through the air.
A horrid screech pierces the silence as veiled wraith-like creatures appear, floating inside them. Black cloaks obscure their forms, but their glowing eyes focus on one thing—me. Dread fills my body.
“Chosen one,” the first creature hisses.
“Little lamb,” croons the second.
“Sacrifice,” the third cackles.
I clutch my trembling hands together, bite back my fear, and narrow my eyes. “I think you have me confused with someone else.”
It’s only a nightmare, I remind myself as I stare them down. There’s nothing to fear. It’s all in my head. As if the wraiths are reading my thoughts, they erupt with eerie laughter. The sound makes my blood run cold.
The second creature speaks. “This is more than a nightmare,” says the second. “Do you know who you speak to? We are never wrong. We see all.”
“Present,” rasps the first.
“Past,” screeches the second.
“Future,” croaks the third.
“We are the Fates,” they chant in unison. “We know all. We see all. We determine all.”
“I didn’t know. I apologize,” I say quickly.
They say nothing, as if deciding whether I’m worthy of a response. The silence is nerve-wracking, stretching on to the beat of my thudding heart. Their gaze becomes unbearable, and I wriggle against the flowers holding me captive. But it’s no use. Their grip is unrelenting.
Finally, they address me. “You must fulfill the prophecy, no matter the cost.”
My mind stalls, stunned—my response stumbles out, half-formed. “What prophecy?”
“Time will tell. You’ll know,” the Wraith of Future declares.
“Half-breed. Born to bring balance and restore order,” The Wraith of Past snaps.
“I don’t understand what you want from me,” I interject, which results in howls and shrieks so loud the glass shatters—then reforms.
“The Prince of Darkness has chosen you. Fate marked you as his. Together, you will bring the end of chaos and restore balance to the realms.” The Wraith of Present glares at me for a moment, then fades away. The mirror crumbles to pieces, leaving no trace of itself as the marigolds absorb every shard.
“Light calls to dark, and true love will conquer all. Choose wisely. Even love is not immune to consequence.” The Wraith of Future bursts from the mirror as it shatters to thousands of shards, then dissipates into the flowers.
“A willing sacrifice,” The Wraith of Past whispers gently.
“What does that mean?” I ask, even though I’m certain I know. But I need to hear it.
“Fate will force you to die, Mercy. Whether by sacrifice or failure to make the right choice—one way or another, you’ll die. Betterto die for the man you love than refuse to save him. Should you fail, you both will perish, and the balance will be tipped for an eternity longer, until the universe sends forth another pair to fight the same battle. Fulfill the prophecy. Humanity depends on your success.” The Past screams as if in pain. “I’ve said too much.” Her mirror simply vanishes, and I’m alone once again.
The dreamscape snaps, like it was their magic holding me here. The field of flowers fades, my restraints disappear—leaving nothing but dirt and blackness—until bright light bursts around me.
