But now, as I step out of the Crusher and onto the black soil—by my choice—I notice the Otherworld in all its horrific glory.
To think, a whole race of humans, forced underground and made to invent a completely different way of life. There’s much to appreciate. In some backwards way, the Otherworlders are more advanced than us. They’ve adapted more quickly to their way of life than we have for centuries above ground.
Honestly, what have we ever been so passionate about? They served their goddess through the worst of times. Through starvation and exile, they never faltered. Through transfiguration, giving up their very humanity—only did they waver near the end, where Bale evoked some mind control until the Reckoning. But I doubt they’d have given up so easily.
What other choice did they have? Where would they have gone?
The temple in the middle of the realm stands out against the slate backdrop as I march forward. It’s my destination. All relics and rivers of mercury. The giant tower shaped like a disfigured claw. It calls to me. Or rather, it calls to Bale. Same damn difference.
The Dark Priest no longer resides there. I suppose the temple is mine now—for my short remainder here.
As I progress deeper into the downtown cityscape, more of me falls away. Shedding like a second skin. My memories fade with each step. My will a thing of little consequence. I’m hollowing out. Becoming the perfect vessel. All this would’ve been much easier had I just given in before. But it’s liberating to finally let go.
The whomp whomp whomp of the giant fan blades greets me, along with the Otherworlders roaming the dirt streets. They stop, blink, and fall to their knees. Some bow and chant Bale’s name. The murmur of My Liege travels over the walkways and through crowds as bodies collapse like broken stalks.
I don’t look anyone in the eye. I keep on course toward the softly glowing temple sticking out like a pulsing beacon against the rocky, false sky. No sun here. No stars and, thank the conniving goddesses, no moon. Only miles and miles of black gravelly sky blanketing the stretch ahead.
The crowd parts to allow me through. As I leave the packed city area with its slanted rooftop houses and little rickety shops—how quaint—I spy the illuminated sediment in the stone that surrounds the realm. An ultraviolet effect on the minerals; quartz, crystal, and diamonds. Its subtle beauty triggers a quick feeling in my chest, and I grip my rumpled shirt as one memory tries to surface.
Kal. A cavern. A glowing pool of water. Her hair fanned out in the water all around her while she floats. Her skin lit up by the reflection of shimmering diamonds.
I blink hard, as if my eyelids can capture and hold on to the image. But all too soon, it drifts away. For just a second I held a moment of peace. Gone.
And standing before me now, the sanctuary of my misery and bane. Bale’s temple.
I’ve crossed this weathered stone bridge before. With fear and apprehension. I cross it this time with the knowledge that I won’t be tramping back out. It’s redemptive, really. No more fear. And isn’t that what I’ve always wanted?
&n
bsp; No more worry of ruining the Paynebridge legacy. Of my father’s prediction coming true—of becoming the worst ruler in Perinyian history. How I loathed proving him right, almost to the point of impotency, utterly unable to make any decision. Rather becoming a lazy, spoiled prince than trying for greatness and failing.
No more competition between Kal and I. Whose realm is better—men verses women. Who is the weaker or stronger sex. She’ll forever remember me as the man who stormed into her life, all airs and pride, and who once saved her from a fated death she unwittingly was designed for by the beast goddesses.
There’s nothing to fear, Prince. Release it all.
A cruel smile tilts my lips. Bale, my love, right on time.
She would surface this soon, not allowing me a second longer to myself. Even if it’s only to dwell and revel in my misery. I’m still human—not a sane one but a living one. I deserve to wallow a bit more.
She tsks in my head. I should punish you for your insolence. But you’ve done well. Kept strong and provided a healthy vessel for my return.
I step onto the bridge. Take two strides, then stop. “Why didn’t you just admit we didn’t need the shard? That your transformation was inevitable?” So many people—Otherworlders and humans—lost their lives in the war. A whole brutal, bloody war over a tiny sliver of glass. It all could have been avoided.
You’d have accepted it too easily. Would have become weak. You needed the violence and power and even the motivation of conquering Kal to endure this length of time.
It’s pointless; the dark goddess is right. Weakness has always haunted me. I withdraw my argument and continue up the bridge. The stream of mercury travels below, bubbling and swirling in shades of dark and light gray. I can’t help but notice it’s a thing of beauty itself.
The world will overflow with my blood soon, Prince. Rivers of mercury will swallow it whole and cleanse this meaningless realm.
And what of Kal?
The thought springs forth before I can prevent it.
My goddess’s silence is agonizing, filling me with an emptiness that impairs worse than any physical pain. But then, there’s always that, too. Pain spreads through me like wildfire, burning and consuming, destroying every bit of me in its path.
Clutching my head, I plead, “A bargain!”
Your life for hers? How tender. But that was not our deal.