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I grip Milo’s arm that’s wrapped around my waist tightly, “Did we summon hellfire?”
Tate answers for his brother, “Yeah.” Another bout of silence follows as he rests his chin on my shoulder, breathing me in. “We should check the crack kitten.”
Milo stills, “You can stay in the main chamber. It’ll only take a moment.” My irritation floods the bond. They don’t think I can handle being near it. That I won’t be able to keep myself in check. Judging by what just happened, I think they might be right. Nonetheless I’m a Harbinger just as much as them now thanks to our goddesses. I take a deep breath, controlling my tone. Squaring my shoulders as much as possible despite feeling like a limp noodle. “You don’t need to baby me all the time, these are my people too. My purpose.” The twins share a look, Milo rubbing his hand down his face as Tate cocks his head slightly to the side. A strangely adorable birdlike mannerism of his.
“Fine.” They respond in unison, despite the protective unease that filters around their words. I give them a reassuring smile as I follow them into the darkness of the cavern. Normally I would summon a flame, an endless network of caves that houses a cult that performs human sacrifice doesn’t need any help to be creepy as shit. I bite down on my bottom lip, telling myself the darkness is fine and that I’m definitely not scared. My mind going back to the most recent initiation, the sixteen-year-old girl that plucked out the eyes of another woman with a brutal smile on her face. It was crass, and she was scolded to tears by the twins after. Still my heart clenched going to dangerous places watching them dad out on the poor kid. Even more so when I watched her being drug to the depths of the cave, she barely made it out.
Milo tenses at my side, the sound of dripping water grinding at his nerves. A powerful sense of pride fills me as I watch them slip into their positions effortlessly. Transitioning from the tender and attentive men from moments ago into the deadly weapons they are at their core. What they were bred to be. Tate chuckles as a flicker of light fills my vision, the flicker growing as the warmth from his flame graces my skin. I push my hair behind my ear, my cheeks heating at the prospect of them feeling my fear. I watch as he lifts it high above my head before shoving it forward. His energy prickles as he wills it to hover a little ahead of me. A slow smile gracing both of their faces despite the cold seriousness in their matching eyes. It takes no conscious thought to head down the winding corridors, evading the water filled death traps and dead ends. The abyssal call of the crack tugs at our souls as the brand in my chest throbs. The sudden cliff ends that drop into a pit not even members have seen, none that are alive anyway. The stolen power I possess calls out to something close. Something unseen that’s followed me since the day I was born. An innate and uncontrollable longing to see it all crumble.
To destroy everything.
My body trembles as the darkness from my dreams creeps up my spine, wrapping itself around my throat. Forcing my eyes from the warm glow of the fire that lingers ahead, instead to the obsidian crevasses that light could never dream to touch.
This was a terrible idea.
“Kita breathe.” Milo warns, his body edging closer to mine as Tate’s whistle fills the silent cave. I look at him questioningly, he looks away from me, the solemnly guarded look in his eyes fills me with dread. A calmness washes across me, barely taking the bite off my growing anxiety. A ploy to mask the true purpose of his airy tune joining us. I bite back the slew of profanity I want to wield at him as my sense of betrayal floats to the center of the bond.
“You would do that?” I ask, not attempting to hide the clipped tone in my voice. Milo’s hand captures mine, not for comfort or comradery, but with a possessiveness I’ve grown to love from them. Not this time. This feels different. I keep my eyes on Tate, waiting for his answer. When he finally gives one, it’s preceded by a deep breath, “Without hesitation. We will not let you destroy yourself.” Spoken like a vow, the weight of his words settle into the pit of my stomach as Milo’s hand slips from mine to the crease of my elbow. His thumb caressing my skin through the sweater I brought, his hold meant to control my movements should I try to escape them. Should I try to close it...
I would never. I couldn’t even close the crack alone, could I?
I can’t bring myself to hang onto the upset or anger for long, not truly. Despite how badly I want to, when searching for those feelings, they aren’t there any longer. They don’t think I can control it. They don’t trust me not to fulfill the purpose... our purpose against their will, to force their hands. They’re willing to render and keep me unconscious to make sure of it. My heart constricts for them. All of this... because they can’t say goodbye. Can’t give up on this false life of ours, no matter how beautiful it is. No matter how good it feels or tastes to live, we’re barely sentient tools put on a corrupt and painful path for a singular purpose. Each scratch, scream and kiss. Every tear predesigned by The Fates to push is towards this moment. Towards the inevitable end.
Could they incapacitate me in time? If I just did it? Ripped the metaphorical Band-Aid off?
My veins being to burn as we step into the raven black, suffocating chamber. Draped in invisible sheets of darkness. A chilling hum fills the small cavern, even the flame Tate summoned fizzles out. Absorbed by the wrongness of it all. I gasp as ropes of void lap out at a dizzying rate. Grappling at us as Milo’s grip tightens, forcing me to still despite everything in my soul... inoursouls yarning to be consumed by it.
Clotho, is this what waits for us after? You said we couldn’t come to you yet... we weren’t ready. Then why do I feel like this? Why do I want to come home?
