“Which horseman is it?” the god asks. “Which horseman is here?”
“I don’t know,” I admit. “I just know they’re here to destroy this world too.”
“They can have this world. But I want that man’s head. IneedWar’s head.”
The power inside me fluctuates, and for a little while, my mind feels hazy and I can’t concentrate. I feel light, like I’m no longer connected to my body as I see myself floating through the halls of a building I’ve never seen before. The tall walls are painted white and covered in picture frames, lit up by vibrant chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. Everything is so imposing and pristine, beautiful yet cold.
And then at the end of that hall sits a door which opens up to a grand room where an older man sits. He looks sickly and his frail fingers emerge from long sleeves. He presses one finger on the top of an hourglass and then flips it over and watches the sand rain down.
“Hey! Wake the fuck up!” someone shouts, and I feel a swift kick to my side.
I groan as my head threatens to split and my hands and legs tremble, becoming aware that I’d fallen asleep. I’d gotten caught up in a dream.
“Get up, let’s go,” a man whose voice I don’t recognize orders, making me realize that it wasn’t my cellmate who delivered the kick but a guard.
“I don’t think he’s going anywhere fast,” my cellmate says.
“Carry him.”
The god scoffs. “Why the fuck do I have to carry him?”
“Now!”
I feel hands under me while my mind swims and I try to make sense of things. Wasn’t I just in that room being poked at by a sickly old man?
Wait… no, I wasn’t the one being poked, the hourglass was. Was I being told where the hourglass is? A whole lot of help it does me when I can’t see anything. I could be in that very room for all I know and not be able to see it.
My body smacks against something as I discover that my cellmate has lovingly tossed me over his shoulder and is hanging me there by holding on to my legs.
“I feel like a bride being carried off to my wedding bed,” I mumble.
“If your mouth works, I have to assume your limbs do too,” he says while he sets me on my feet only for me to melt to the ground.
I really did try hard to keep my legs locked.
“What are you doing? Keep moving!” someone shouts, and I feel my cellmate grab my hands and start dragging me.
“I bet you’re a blast at parties,” I mutter.
“At least I don’t murder everyone at the party,” he retorts.
“I don’t fucking remember anything beyond the last thirty-six years. How many times would you like me to repeat that?”
“Your voice sounds like nails on a chalkboard. All I can hear is a screeching noise every time you speak.”
“Help me up,” I demand, but he just grabs one arm and one leg and proceeds to drag me after him like that.
“You are the most irritating person I’ve ever met in my life,” I inform him.
“Good,” he says, and I try to grab him and pull myself up so I’m not being dragged. It’s only partially successful and obviously not worth much as he drops me onto the floor.
“Oh, your great bitchiness, your humble servant has brought you this hollering man,” my cellmate announces, making me think that we’re facing Onyx… who he doesn’t seem to like and who is probably the one who locked him up in the cell.
“I heard you were in trouble,” Onyx says, voice soft when she speaks to me. It also sounds like she’s on my level, so she might be kneeling in front of me.
“The curse is ripping me apart. I need my stuff to fix it, please,” I beg.
“I really wish we could, but we cannot,” she says. I try not to narrow my eyes at her and think about how I really wish I could use my magic against her. Fuck her and her calm and soothing voice.
