Chapter Eight

My shitty little apartment is just as I remember. My old, second-hand furniture. My tiny kitchen that always is perpetually dirty even though I don't ever cook anything besides shit in the microwave. Even the view outside the windows overlooking the street below is the exact same.

What's different is the asshole sitting on the small sofa across from the old TV hanging on the wall.

"I thought this would be a change of scenery, since our minds so often meet." Invictis wears a smirk as he turns his head to look at me. His blue eyes are amused, his handsome face nothing but a lie.

He might look like a man. Might talk like one, too, but I can't forget he is not a man; he's a weapon, a weapon that's older than Laconia's written history. He is everything I should hate, the reason the entire kingdom is a shell of what it used to be.

"Your world is so different. It is too bad this is one of the most vivid memories in your head. I would've liked to see more of it," Invictis muses, his accent so familiar it makes me momentarily forget how much I hate him. So many days spent listening to that voice, so many days I spent wondering what he looked like when he had a body.

Not once did I ever imagine this.

I move to stand beside the couch, glaring at him all the while—though he doesn't act perturbed by it in the least. "You shouldn't be here."

His reply comes easily, "And neither should you. You should be as insane as those empresses were with how closely you were exposed to me, and yet here you are, still sane." To say he sounds disappointed with the current state of my sanity would be an understatement.

I fold my arms over my chest. "Maybe your edge is wearing off. I hear you're, like, super old."

Invictis leans back on the couch, lifting both his arms onto the cushions behind him. The t-shirt he's wearing hugs his body nicely, and the dark jeans on his legs…

His knees are spread wide; if he was a man, I'd say he's inviting me to look at his dick, but since he's not a man, I'm sure he's just trying to look calm, collected, and stupidly assured of himself. The haughty bastard.

"Time means nothing to a being such as I. To a short-lived people like yourself, I suppose it matters more," he tells me with a snide smirk. "If you're trying to insult me, Rey, you should try harder."

Standing there, staring at him, the hatred I have for him, the hurt and betrayal I feel when I think about what he did, how he tricked me and I fell for it, rises up.

Invictis goes on, "What sort of magical quest are you on now, hmm?" The chuckle he lets out is skeptical. "Do you truly believe you have any hope of defeating me, Rey? I'm surprised you're even attempting, with how often you said you aren't a hero—or have you changed your mind on that?" His azure gaze narrows at me. "Are you suddenly a hero now?"

I don't say a word to him. If I get started, I don't know that I'll be able to stop.

"Is this—" Invictis motions around us before he stands. "—where heroes live?" He walks around the couch, stopping only when he stands directly before me, less than a foot away. His tall, six-and-a-half-foot frame towers over me in an attempt to make me feel small. "You said it yourself, time and time again: you are no hero. You're nobody. You're nothing special."

Okay, yeah, I did say all that—multiple times—but it just sounds different when he says it. Demeaning, belittling, cruel. When I say all those things, I…

I guess I'm being demeaning, belittling, and cruel to myself, but it's the truth. I have no family, no close friends. Even when I was saddled with a foster family, I was alone. I've been alone for so long, I honestly believe that I'm nobody, because how could someone who's not a nobody have the life I did?

The only person that ever cared about me died when I was ten. That day was when I first made the change. I went from a little girl who could've been someone to an orphan who could only ever dream to be more than a nobody.

"Well?" Invictis mocks me, flashing me a set of perfect teeth. "Where's that smart retort I know you have building in your head, Rey? Where is your counter, your denial? Where is the defiance that you so boldly proclaimed before?"

My gaze falls to his chest. It's easier than looking up at him. All of the emotions inside war for dominance, and I don't know whether to be more pissed off at what he said or upset at what he is and what he's done… or depressed that I'll never be able to go back to my life at this rate.

Let's be real: I'll probably die trying to get the aethers together. Laconia will be my grave.

All because of this stupid asshole.

My lips quiver as I try to keep calm. "You." I growl out the word as my hands clench into fists at my sides. "You're the reason I'll never come back here. You're the reason what little I had is gone." My head snaps back, and I meet his intense stare again as I say, "You ruined my life."

"Ruin is my specialty." It's as if he can sense that he's pissing me off, because he adds, "Ruin and madness."

"I know this might not look like much to something like you, something who has the whole fucking world at his feet, but this was my life. I had things I cared about here, and I… I'll never be able to come back. It's all your fault!"

The emotions demand a release, and so I do the only thing I can: I push him. I push him as hard as I can, both to get him away from me and to show just how ticked off I am.

Invictis hardly moves. He's too big, too heavy, too immobile for me to shove, and that just pisses me off even more. I push him again. "I hate you. I hate you and everything you've done." Another shove even though it's pointless. "I was just fine being a nobody before your golden ass came along and ruined what little I had!"

I might not have had much, but it was mine. And, in all truth, there's only one belonging I'll never see again that tears me up inside.

But, wait. This is my apartment. What if—

The possibility that my dad's picture is resting on my bed is the only reason I turn away from Invictis and hurry into my bedroom. My heart skips with longing; it's the only thing I have left of my dad, something that reminds me I used to have something, I used to be someone… I used to be loved.

The moment I race through the open door, I see my bed is nothing but an unmade mess, no picture of my dad in sight. The weight of it all comes crashing down upon me, and I stumble forward, barely making it to the edge of the bed before I need to sit down.

I sit on the side of my bed and hunch forward as I bury my face in my hands. I should've known seeing my dad's picture again is too much to ask for. Everything sucks, so why would I have that one ray of hope?

I want to cry. I do. I want to break down and let my emotions out. After years of burying everything deep, however, it's not that easy for me. It's not… I'm not—things don't come easily to me. Some might even say my sarcasm and general sass is nothing more than a defense mechanism.

My life was falling apart before Invictis. I can't blame him for that. What would I have done if I wasn't transported to Laconia? It's possible things would've only gotten worse for me. Homeless, unable to continue college, jobless. There's no saying that if I wasn't brought to Laconia things would've turned around.

But at least I would've had a chance.

Invictis must follow me into the bedroom; I hear footsteps on the old wooden floor. The wood creaks under the pressure of his weight, just like that particular spot always did for me. Can't forget this whole thing is only a flicker, a memory made into reality.

"Go away," I hiss through my hands. "Can't you just leave me the fuck alone? I don't—" I drop my hands from my face, my intent to glare at him and tell him off—something along the lines of I don't want to see your stupid face right now , but I can't.

Why?

Because Invictis stands before me, holding a small picture in his hand. A familiar picture of a man I thought I'd never see again.

And he's offering it to me.

I don't take it. All I can do is sit there and stare at it. Invictis must sense my questions, because he explains, "We were bonded. A part of us still remains connected. All I had to do was push deeper."

I meet his blue stare for a fast second before carefully taking the photo. He moves around the bed, to the small window in the room, where he leans against the wall and gazes out at the world.

The picture feels real. It looks real, too. It's just how I remember it. My dad smiling at me after a long day of adventure at the zoo for my birthday. One of my fondest memories, the one that still burns brightest in my mind, even after all this time.

"You humans are so short-lived. You should be used to death by now," Invictis says. "I do not understand the fascination with remembering the dead. It seems as though that would keep you from moving on, evolving." His accented voice holds no trace of malice as he talks, simply offering his opinion.

I smile at the picture as I run my thumb along its right side. Inside my chest, my heart aches with everything that could've been. "The day this was taken, it was my birthday. We were at the zoo—we always went to the zoo. It was our thing. I thought it always would be. I never thought—" My voice cracks. "—it'd be the last time."

A sigh leaves me. "Maybe you can't understand it, but it's not about moving on or evolving or constantly trying to be better. Life is about living, not trying to be the best. It's about spending time with people you care about and remembering them when they're gone… or hoping they remember you when you're gone."

I bring the picture to my chest and hold it there. "It's about doing your best when you can. It's about failing, making the most of your time while you have it. Being stupid, being silly. Having fun. Making mistakes. It's about everything. Life should be lived."

Even though it's the hardest thing I ever had to do, I set the picture down and turn away from it as I stand and face Invictis. He turned away from the window sometime during my little speech; he watches me now, an unreadable expression on his face.

"Maybe you are a weapon, but if that's the case, then someone wielded you. Someone who knew all of that, someone who should have understood the extermination of an entire kingdom is wrong."

Invictis must think on it. That, or he has a flair for the dramatic, because he's slow in moving away from the window. He walks around the other side of my bed, once again stopping when he's within arm's reach from me.

"The ones who unleashed me, who put me together before you," he whispers, "wanted to see Laconia destroyed. Everyone in it. Everything in it. Zealots, perhaps, dreaming of a time when their kingdom was at war with Laconia. They visited every catacomb in the kingdom, gathered all of my pieces, and put me together. Their only wish was to see Laconia and all of its inhabitants perish."

I can't believe what he's saying. It sounds like Fred was right, that Invictis does predate everything anyone knows about Laconian history. It sounds like Invictis was always here, though I don't know who controlled him first.

But people from another kingdom came and, wanting revenge for some old war that no one in Laconia even talks about, unleashed him. They put him together and unleashed him, ordering him to annihilate everyone and everything.

"Where are those people now?" I ask. It's funny, being stuck between Invictis and my bed, and I'm not uncomfortable. Everything he's done, everything he's capable of, but I don't fear him. It's a strange mix of emotions I feel.

"Dead," Invictis answers simply. "When they wished for the destruction of Laconia and everything in it, they neglected to realize they would be the first to die."

"I guess they should've been more specific," I say. It is good they're dead, otherwise I'd be tempted to hunt them down myself and make them pay for what they unleashed upon Laconia. Regardless of whatever war happened in the past, those people don't deserve to die like this.

The corners of his mouth twitch in a half-smirk. "Perhaps." His gaze falls. "They wanted the empresses to pay for the crimes of their predecessors. You—"

I'm pretty sick of everybody and their brother claiming I'm an empress, and I want to tell him that—there's no goddamn way I can be an empress. I don't have magic. I'm just a normal girl from a different world, that's it.

But I can't say any of that, because… I don't know why. It's like I forget every single reply I have ready in my head.

Invictis raises a hand. His fingertips brush up against my cheek, and what breath I'm holding I let out in an uneven sigh. "I waited so long to find you," he whispers as his fingers trail along my jaw. "I never imagined you would be so… different than the others." If it was anyone else saying that, I might've taken it as a compliment, but with him…

I know better, even if his trailing touch on the underside of my jawline isn't the worst feeling in the world.

The hand with the surprisingly tender touch turns rough when it curls around my throat and jerks me forward. I'm on my tiptoes suddenly, my head angled back, unable to tear my eyes off him.

"But it doesn't matter, Rey," he murmurs, the hidden venom in his voice now detectable. "You will fall, just as the others fell before you. I will destroy you, undo everything you are, and then I will achieve my purpose. Nothing you do can stop me."

I grab the wrist attached to my neck. He's not choking me, but it's not the best position to be in, either. Such a sudden switch in him, but I guess that's only because this is the real Invictis. He's not a person; I can't guilt him into anything. He doesn't have something as silly as feelings… does he?

"Maybe you're right," I admit while doing a strange balancing act on my tiptoes. "Maybe I can't beat you and you're the big baddie you say you are. It's your nature, or whatever. It's your purpose." Very hard not to roll my eyes as I say it. "But that doesn't mean I'm gonna roll over like a dog and give you my belly."

That statement confuses him enough he lowers me so I'm no longer on my toes. "I don't see how that applies."

"It means," I pause and give him an unperturbed grin that some probably would consider crazed, "my hackles are up and I'm not backing down. Somehow, someway, I'm gonna kick your shiny golden ass."

The laugh that escapes his chest is one of amusement, and the hand around my neck curls upward to cup my jaw. Even in this form, he really is a massive specimen of a man—even if this face technically doesn't belong to him.

Invictis leans his tall frame down as he whispers, "I look forward to regaining my full strength and seeing you on the battlefield, then."

"Not as much as I'm looking forward to it, buddy," I hiss out the final word as I frown.

"I will crush you like an insect beneath my heel. As different as you are, you are nothing compared to me. You are simply—" Invictis's chest rumbles with vehemence. "—a girl, after all. An empress with no magic is just a—"

I interrupt him, knowing it'll annoy him, "A girl, yeah. I get it. You sure do like to repeat yourself, Rune."

His blue eyes flash molten gold. "I am Invictis, and nothing you do will change your destiny. You will fall at my feet as your empresses did. Through blade, magic, or madness, I will undo everything you are. That is a promise, Rey."

"That's funny. I was going to promise you the same thing… Rune."

Before he can respond—and get even angrier—the dream fades around me, and I wake up with a smile on my face and a renewed sense of pettiness. I don't want to be a hero, no. The very opposite.

However—and this is a big however—I am petty enough to be willing to die just to inconvenience my old pal Rune. With any luck, I'll find a way to stop him, but if not… well, pettiness is always the way togo when it comes to someone like that.

I'll give that asshole a taste of his own medicine.