Page 94 of The Endless One

She glared at him. And he had no idea what he might have said to make her so angry. He had done everything wrong in his godhood, and he knew that now. She wouldn’t convince him otherwise.

Sybil didn’t argue with that, though. Instead, she said, “You are allowed to grow and change. You are allowed to see that you had done something wrong, and that you aren’t proud of who you once were. What matters is how you move forward, how you make amends, and what you do to make sure that it never happens again. So what kind of god do you want to be now, Elric? What kind of god do you want your people to see?”

At first, he didn’t know the answer. But the words came out of him, anyway. “One worthy of her.”

“Then don’t let them die.”

Then he could feel them. All the souls that were returning to empty shells. Shells that couldn’t contain them. Shells that had been used, abused, and discarded.

And it all suddenly made sense. Why he had been brought to this point. Why Jessamine was a life goddess and he was god of the dead still. He should have changed into something new, but why would he do that when the world needed him just as he was?

Elric looked into Sybil’s dark gaze, and he knew she had seen it as well. They needed him to be who he was made to be. To be the tormenting god of the dead, who was the only one who could force all of these people to stay in their bodies, no matter how painful it was while they waited for the coven to tend to them.

With a small nod, he stepped away from the bodies that littered the floor and focused on all the souls returning to those bodies. He could feel their pain, their sadness. He knew without a doubt that they all had some memories of what had happened to them. Perhaps they wouldn’t once they returned to their mortal flesh, but their souls were wounded. They would hold on to that fear for a while yet.

He wished he didn’t have to force them to remain as they were. Some part of him still didn’t like to be the one who made everyone remain in pain. Elric would become a dark god who would be feared for centuries after this. The god of the dead who had saved them all, and yet still hurt them in the process.

It took every bit of his concentration to keep all of their souls in their bodies. As Sybil called in a few more coven members so they could make sacrifices to Jessamine, he wandered out onto the street. The souls were returning in a great wave that crested over Inverholm. He watched them rushing in, catching them as they came with the shadows that spread out from his hands and body. Each one he gently cradled, following them back to their bodies and then holding them in place.

Every ounce of his concentration was needed for this. He had to focus. He had to keep his mind on every single one of them, and there were thousands. He’d never created a spell like this in his entire life, but with Jessamine’s magic still flowing through him, as well as his own, his shadows seemed to know what to do. He could feel it tugging on this form, though. This body wasn’t entirely capable of this kind of magic, and he risked dissolving just like she had.

But he had to continue. For them. For every single soul in this kingdom who had been harmed by his family.

Soon enough, he had created a web that covered all of Inverholm. Stretching from the farthest reaches of the Pleasure District, through the Factory District, the homes of the nobles near the castle, into the castle itself, down into the Water District. Every part of this kingdom was woven with his and her magic.

The faintest voice broke through his shell, a voice that he recognized.

Sybil quietly, or perhaps loudly and he couldn’t hear her, asked, “Are you going to be able to hold it?”

“I must,” he said.

Elric could see his body unraveling much like Jessamine’s had. He was darkness. He was shadows. He was the god of the dead who would keep them here so that they could continue living.

He headed out into the middle of the widest street and settled himself upon it. Bending his legs, he wrapped his arms around them and then… stayed. For however long it took. He let the world continue on and time pass in increments that he only barely recognized. Moments that were just snippets of memories.

The relief when the first district was free of the infection.

The whispers of his coven as they moved past him, making sacrifices so that his focus would never wane.

Deeper voices. Hugo and Alexander, murmuring their support of him and their well wishes. Their thanks for him giving them back their lives.

A squeeze on his shoulder as Agnes and Elissa visited. A blanket placed over his body so that he wouldn’t get cold during the bitter evenings while the coven worked.

And finally, the blissful end of his journey. He could breathe again. There were no more souls to trap. Just a kingdom full of people who had no need for the god of the dead to help them anymore.

When he opened his eyes again, Sybil was seated in front of him, and the entire kingdom had changed. The streets were no longer splattered with blood. The carts that had been tipped over and surrounded by rotting vegetables and fruits were no longer broken. Now they were filled with produce that looked downright edible. And there were people.

So many people. All villagers and workers who were moving about their day, heading to jobs that had desperately needed them. Fixing the exterior of homes with broken windows and shattered doorways. People who were doing their best to return to some semblance of normal.

His gaze moved back to the witch sitting cross-legged in front of him. Her hair was pulled back from her face, the tangled locks brushed clean now. The curls were bouncy, shiny in the sunlight that made her skin seem to glow. Her clothing was clean, and not something that looked like it had spent the better part of its most recent years in an old woman’s closet. The white shirt was parted to reveal the crack down her chest where his gifts still boiled, and her pants were fitted to her skin. With shiny boots on her legs, she looked very much like a pirate who had come off a ship to plunder.

But he had never seen her look so at peace. So well fed. So… happy.

“There you are,” Sybil said with a grin. “I was wondering when you would come back to us.”

“I did my best to hurry,” he replied, and then winced as his back muscles seized and flared. “You were the ones who had to get everything done on time.”

“Oh, we know.” That grin never budged. “That’s why we didn’t rush. You deserved to experience a little hard work after living a life of luxury for so many years.”