Page 7 of Prince of the Phantom Sky

“Why do you shy away from how it ends?” Thanos’ voice amplified the space. Kora flinched, her identity refilling her mind as she gathered herself within the void.

“I’m not ‘shying away’. The memory always ends at that point.”

“You could see more, if you so wished. But you do not,” Thanos pushed.

Kora growled at his invisible presence, frustration bubbling beneath the surface of her water humanoid form. She’d scoured the void for days, searching for her burning white lifeline back to Raiden, but when she’d been met with persistent darkness, she’d shifted her focus to her iced memories instead.

“Barron always cuts it off,” she snapped. “His hold on my mind is too great. His power has burned away the memory. My childhood memories no longer exist. That one didn’t even feel real. Things happened that . . . it was impossible.”

A pause followed.

“It’s possible your mind is adding details like a dream, filling the blanks however it wants. I do not believe the sky was tainted and fell during the invasion, or that yourself and Haizea’s descendent could change age. That would take an act of the gods.”

“Raiden?” Kora sniffled from the cold. “He looked so young, and then he . . . he appeared as I saw him last. I felt younger, but even my mind couldn’t place my age correctly.”

“You remember more now than you ever have before,” Thanos mused. “Perhaps keep trying, gifted one, and all will seem true eventually.”

“It’s pointless. Every time I hear her name, it destroys the memory. No matter how hard I try, I cannot connect to my past self.” Kora floated through the void, following the webbed structure back to her most recent memories, appreciating the glowing blue light of her power.

But now, the edges of the webs had streaks of light gold, and where the strands of web crossed paths, they seemed more white than blue. Either way, she was grateful for its presence, to not be shrouded by the suffocating shadows.

“Maybe you do not want to remember.”

Kora paused. Was Thanos right? As the God of Death, he was very insightful. Since Blake had committed her body to hover on the precipice of death, she’d mastered accessing the void to explore her memories, to discover what had happened to her those ten years ago. A distant sting punctured her chest and she squashed it down. She had also mastered locking away her emotions, to forget the betrayal that had destroyed her life.

But she was met with Barron’s block every time. Whatever he’d done to her mind, it was thorough, and still in control of her memories. How much time had passed? How long had she been between life and death? Thankfully, Thanos had begun visiting her in this new weave some time ago. By the gods, it’d been nice not to be alone.

“Maybe Barron’s just too good,” Kora sighed.

“No!” Thanos’ objection cracked the void and Kora gasped as tiny slivers of light sliced through the darkness. The frayed tendrils of her mind wailed, scurrying further into the thick of the black. “I will not hear it. We will keep trying.”

“What . . . can you break the void?” The cracks of light sealed up, and Kora released a small sob as their warmth dissipated, leaving her in cold fathomless black.

“Not all gods can connect to the in-between. I am one of the few fortunate.”

“If you can access the void, can you take me somewhere else?” Cruel hope lifted her heart. If there was a way in, then there was a way out.

“Do you not wish to remember?” His voice quirked, amusement leaking through.

“I’m not going anywhere anytime soon; you can always bring me back. Unless it’s not part of Calypso’s plan?”

Kora hadn’t forgotten her last interaction with Thanos in the Eternal Tryk. Since then, she’d repeatedly asked him about the supposed plan Calypso had designed for her, but he was as tight-lipped as a vault in the Citadel. Refusing to divulge secrets, just as the Citadel refused to divulge wealth to the less fortunate. Kora held a bated breath in the suspended silence as she stared into nothingness, pretending a singular point was Thanos’ imaginary floating form.

“It has been a while since I have . . . exasperated Calypso. Say no more, blessed one.”

And the void cracked open.

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3

Kora

The blinding light settled and Kora blinked as her vision came into focus. Her gut dropped as the clearing of the Emerald Forest surrounded her, the familiar clawed roots and branches reaching for the singular beam of light breaking through the thick canopy in the centre.

Breathe.

Kora fought shallow breaths, her lungs heaving against the pressing band of terror from being back here. Nature’s prison. Her legs moved before her mind did and she raced across the clearing, jumping around hand-like branches for the ocean. She cried out, the strong pump of her muscles thundering in her ears.