Their time in the underworld.
Gellara.
Her sweet love.
Architecti going dark in that field, killing an entire town of mortals.
Her plan.
The prison, binding the moths together.
The elder.
I stop and replay the memories with the elder.Angels aren’t meant to be twins, he says.
Architecti is confused.She seeks clarification.He doesn’t want to tell her, but she pleads.
Our magic is powerful.But it is supposed to be contained inside one vessel.Not split between twins.
Why not?Architecti says.
Because it doesn’t always split evenly.Sometimes one angel goes bad.
Everything goes dark and I sit up, gasping.“We’ve been played.”
38
Architecti
PRESENT DAY
You know how the rest of my story goes.I stayed imprisoned for forty long years while I coaxed and encouraged our moths to merge.To rip from Interitus the one thing she needed to fulfil her dreams.
Power.
When I knew without doubt that I owned her power, that her moth was mine to wield, to control, to possess, that’s when it was time to leave my prison of grief and destroy my sister once and for all.
And so our story comes full circle.
Did I lie to you?
Perhaps.
Or perhaps this is the truest story I’ve ever told.
Either way, this is where it ends.
And I know, we’re all very sad Lucy will have to die etcetera, etcetera.But it’s a worthy sacrifice.She’ll be the hero her father never could be.And without her, I cannot kill my sister.
There’s an old adage that goes:
A sensible demon will spin you a line that goes something like: I need you to know, I started out as a good person.It’s how they lure you in, you see.How they manipulate frail hearts and sweet minds.
I did, though… start out as a good person.I mean… I am an angel after all.Or maybe I was only ever half an angel living half a life that was always destined to go bad.
Sour.
Bitter.
