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Glancing at the mark upon her collarbone, I smile. Despite the crushing emotion, my heart is fuller than ever with love for her. Purple bell-heather bursts from my palms to shower her. Franzy flinches but smiles quickly, loving my gift.
I take the crown in my hands and place it upon her head, proclaiming, “You will be the greatest Queen of the Underworld. You are stronger than the Scarlet Skathyk, my leyanyn. Someday, I hope to be as strong and wise as you, but my journey will take much longer.”
Her eyes deepen upon mine. An otherworldly perception rooted deep within her. Her intuition has served her and blessed her with love and wisdom. “Where are you going, Isla?”
I lean in and whisper in her ear, “Home.”
Kissing her one final time, I plunge back into the River Cryth, crying out for Betha.
The spirits carryme through the portal but not into the Nether-Void. No, they carry me where I’ve requested. Where everything began on the border of my given-family’s farm.
I face the depthless, swarming shadow of the Void. Its Nether energy pulsates and throbs into me until the fire and ice inside me from my tryskelle mark swells, growing extreme.
On the other side of the Void are hundreds, if not thousands of refters, slamming against the barrier. Some plunge past.
Behind me, alerted by my sudden presence on the farm, my given-family gathers. “Go!” I bark the command. “Get away from here!”
With the one-year-old bundle bound to her chest, Mathyr scrambles for the little ones and ushers them inside the log farmhouse where I spent my first eighteen years. Only Fathyr remains. A single lift of his hand. A gleam of pride in his eye.
I nod in gratitude, thanking him and Mathyr in a silent gesture for caring for the little girl with a Nether-mark upon her back and corpus roses in her hair.
For them, for Franzy, for Allysteir, for all in Talahn-Feyal, I steel my spine and approach the powerful, swirling black orb.
For the first time, my hands do not tremble. My soul remains strong. Even with the refter growls growing near, I close my eyes, inhale through my nose, travel deep into my mind, my heart, my very goddess soul. My spirit reaped the power of the High God of Death?the power I’d bathed in when I’d plunged into the womb that defies time itself. An untamable tempest of goddess magic, it may rebirth any power.
The Goddess of Resurrection. The Goddess of Souls.
With the force thundering through my mortal body, I spread my arms to the dark energy. My Nether-mark explodes with hellfire and heaven’s ice. Fueled by the memories of my time in the spirit world, of my true parents and their love strong enough to unite heaven and hell, I unleash wondrous spirit-power.
It erupts! In the form of thousands of shades and spirit roses, it twists into an omnipotent double helix to attack the Void.
And destroy it!
Refters cower. They wither. They shrivel into bones. Into dark spirits evanescing into nothingness?the otherworldly energy granting them existence fades. That Nether-energy, born of Cursed essence, bows to my double-helix of Spirit and Death.
Gasping as the force claws its way from my lungs, I drive myself onward. Command and push the helix to chain its double-bound power around the shadow valley.
My blood burns. My veins turn to ice. Though my knees falter, weakening, I close my eyes and channel the memories of my parents’ embrace. Roused by my will, the helix climbs and soars miles to cover the Void, to encase it. Spirit roses hook their talon-like thorns into the Void. Shades multiply to a miles-long mantle.
My teeth rattle. My veins quake from fire and ice. Hot tears plague my vision to ooze down my cheek. But tears should not ooze. And these arered.
Pain and power surge through me. All my muscles throb. Bones crack from the pressure this goddess strength wreaks upon my mortal form. The helix slows its pursuit of the Void. I crash to my knees. More blood scrawls my vision like scarlet calligraphy. Despite my bloodstream slowing and my bones fracturing, I reinforce my heart.
This will not be myredoingbut my gloriousundoing!
Because I am the Mallyach-Ender. The Ender of Curses. The Un-doer of Curses.
So, I charge the spirit roses, the shades to this final proclamation, my last act as Isla Adayra Morganyach. As the helix streaks across the sky to span the entire length of Talahn-Feyal from the southern border of my given-family’s farm, across the Five Ladies of Nathyan Ghyeal, and to the great border where Feyal-Ithydeir land ends and the Sythe forests grow, I proclaim in a diaphanous whisper, “Bandye.”
In one ultimate, omnipotent roar, the united power of Death and the power of Spirit, of Rebirth obliterates Talahn-Feyal’s Nether-Void.
I fall. But my head does not crash to the ground. Instead, a figure with hands as cold and soft as frost catches me. My breath is fragile. My heartbeat dwindles. My bones have shattered. Dread weakens my delicate bloodstream. This feeble mortal shell housing my goddess-birthright essence isdying.Somehow,I register the lustful tongue stroking my cheeks, licking my eyes, and lapping the blood. I open my mouth but can’t muster anything beyond a whimper.
“H-how?” I wheeze, breath too shallow as I drink in her intoxicating image?a blur of carmine waves, golden skin, and crescent-moon fangs bared and ready.
“A blood tracker naturally.” She sniffs. “And a little foresight from my High Goddess who waited for your little tryst with Death to finish. That hardly matters at present. You are dying, little lioness. But I may save you if you wish...” she purrs in my ear.
Narcyssa.
