15. Fifteen

Fifteen

Caspian

Ahhh, I do love the sounds of screaming.

Dropping the piece of shit who hid away like a coward while this hall was being cleared, I continue to fade through the darkness. The tidal wave of emotions that continues to pour into my heart from my Primary forces me to go faster, kill quickly.

In the time we’ve been here, I’ve felt her experience every emotion known to our kind and it’s created quite the cacophony inside of me. One second, I’m ready to murder everyone. The next, I feel like going to my knees in front of her and holding her close.

I’ll admit up until this point, I’ve been indifferent toward her Perfecta Anima . I’ve never wished her any harm despite her hate for me, which honestly, I deserve. I was quite the asshole to Willow when she arrived, as well as to her, and I’ve never bothered to apologize to her. She was always just another female, so I didn’t truly care to, but that’ll never be the case again after today.

Feeling the turmoil, the true heartache my Primary is experiencing right now over Oakly is like having the organ cut from my chest. I may have thought I knew what it meant to share a bond like the two of them do, but I was clueless until today. If she dies, so will a large part of my Willow. Gone will be the woman who owns my soul and what’s left of her will never be the same.

I fucking refuse to allow that to happen.

So I will do everything within my power to make sure Oakly survives today and every day going forward. I may, just maybe, apologize and work toward taking the number three spot from Corentin or Tillman.

We’ll see how far hunting down this man and killing him gets me.

“Oakly’s been injected with the drug that the Summum-Master uses before stealing people’s gifts, according to Keeper. He claims there’s no cure. We need the fucker who injected her. Roye and Dyce will stay behind while we get her to the healing wing. We’re at the entrance now,” Tillman reports.

“Go, brother. I’ll take him to the dungeons when I find him and get those answers.”

“Be careful.”

“I will and…our Primary?” I ask. I already feel her enough to know, but Tillman can see and hear things I can’t.

“Calm. Petrifyingly so.”

My displeasure rumbles in my chest because I know what the little Primary is doing. I’m doing the same currently. But she can’t live in the darkness like me, and I’m not there right now to stop her. My brothers will have to do that for me for now.

They’ve created such an awful habit of ignoring these signs because of me, but just because our demons match, it doesn’t mean we’re the same.

Where I’ve grown a home in the black abyss, my Primary embraces it, commands it, then sets it free. The setting it free part is where she needs the push. If not, it dims her light. And I can’t have that.

The glow she’s left in my soul is already flickering with the flashbacks seeing the hostages here are bringing forth. They’ve given up, just like I did.

“That means she’s retreating and shutting down. Don’t allow her to.”

“There’s no allowing or not allowing, Cas. She’s processing—”

“She’s processing nothing. She’s hiding from her fear of her sister dying and everything else. She dove toward a pit of magma, incinerated over half the Mastery army that was in that center, and just beautifully killed the bitch who caused all this. You can’t let her hide in her mind, or she’ll let it consume her, then shove it down until we can’t reach and reassure her. Do as I tell you or I’ll come do it myself,” I command.

“Fine. We’ll see you soon. Transporting now,” he says begrudgingly.

He may not like that I’m telling him to force her to talk, but he’ll do it. We don’t have the time to spare for me to shadow all the way to them. I’ll handle her privately when this is over and make sure everything is fine then.

I’d rather she outwardly acts batshit murderous over her being quiet. Her silence is never a good thing in moments like this.

Shadowing through more walls of this volcano, I have to admit, despite the memories this situation is bringing forth, this design was ingenious but also incredibly foolish. Pyra has given the Mastery an advantage over a monstrous compound that has so many different uses, it’s unbelievable. The current floor I’m flowing through is fucking bedrooms. They had individuals living in this space.

It’s probably one of the largest and most populated structures we’ve infiltrated, but that’s where their errors lie.

Taking this down is a massive hit to their army. Regardless that the majority are grunts, with a few top soldiers mulling around, the numbers were catastrophic.

At the end of the four halls, we thought that was it, but we were wrong. Each stretch ends with an illusion wall that leads to flights of stairs. I sent E.F. members through each of them, but the current one I’m drifting down is a few floors higher than where they are, and I’m pretty positive I’ve cleared the pussies and stragglers who didn’t join the battle earlier.

There lies the design flaw.

Since I’ve moved upward, I couldn’t begin to tell you what’s going on now in the hallways below me. They’re too far apart and the volcanic rock creates a barrier thick enough to block out sound.

The higher I travel, the less I feel the pull of whatever that is that the Summum-Master used to strip away others’ spells, enchantments, and the ability to escape. The tug of it against my skin continues to shrink the more I climb .

I couldn’t begin to tell you where in the volcano I’m located, but judging by the temperature becoming cooler, I’m closer to the top than the bottom now. It’s still warmer than I’d care for it to be, but it’s no longer sweltering.

I’ve been rapidly moving through the walls, giving quick glances around the rooms, but the second I pass through the corner of this one, I slow. There’s no outside magic surrounding it whatsoever.

Sticking close to the wall, I slowly walk around the corridor blocking my view and muffling the voice I hear. I stop to observe my surroundings once the fucker I’ve been looking for comes into sight.

There’s no one in here with him. He’s talking to himself, pacing around the huge lab.

“Found him. About to move in. He has an entire lab stationed here. No hostages. Send someone up here to retrieve this shit,” I tell Tillman and feel his hope rise.

I’ve been a little preoccupied since I last said something to him, so it’s only now that I pay attention to everyone’s sense of dread. It’s so strong, I could confuse it as my own.

Fuck, that can’t be good.

Knocking a row of beakers off the counter with my hand, I push myself up and perch my ass on the side, smiling as he whips around, startled. I’ll give him credit. He straightens himself up very quickly and doesn’t cower or try to run. Yet.

“Well, well, well. I like what you’ve done with the place,” I say smugly.

“Caspian Vito, we meet again.” He attempts to nonchalantly step behind his desk. I just roll my eyes. As if that scrap of wood will protect him from me.

“That we do…Sorry, do I call you Deinde-Master or Doctor?”

His bravado slips for just a moment and then he schools his features again, but I catch it and tilt my lips up enough just to let him know I did.

“Whichever you prefer.”

“To be honest, I don’t give a fuck, nor do I have time for pleasantries. We need to get going, so are we doing this the hard or easy way?” I ask, clapping and rubbing my hands together .

“I won’t be going anywhere with you,” he shouts dramatically and attempts to transport out.

“I’m a little offended you thought of me as such a fool. You’re obviously a smart man,” I say sarcastically, gazing around. “Did you think I’d just make my presence known and not be prepared for you to try to leave me so soon?”

The smug bastard was too distracted to even notice both my ice and shadows crawling around his feet, locking him in place.

Hopping off the counter, with each step I take, I command my gift and element to continue their crawl up his body and by the time I reach him, they’re beginning to form around his neck.

“You and I are going to have some fun, while you tell me everything about whatever the fuck you injected into my Primary’s sister. If my recollection serves me—which it does—your enforcers beat me for an hour straight and not a peep passed my lips. Let’s see how long you hold out.” I throw my head back, laughing, then latch my hand around his neck and transport us out.

Fucker has no idea the pain I have coming for him.

I pop us right into my favorite torture room in the dungeon.

Why is it my favorite? Fuck if I know. Probably because it’s the coldest room down here, but my dads and brothers know this is my room and no one can torture anyone in here without me.

It’s muscle memory for me at this point to pop in right in the perfect spot, shove the asshole into his seat, and have the magical cuffs snapped in place all in the matter of seconds.

My smirk has his thrashing stilling and the panic streaking across his face smooths out as he looks around the room. The rise and fall of his chest never calms, though. Despite the collected and in control persona he’s trying to show me, he’s failing miserably. I’ve lived my life with the most in control person to walk this realm. This scum is nothing compared to him.

“Darstein, correct?” I ask as I plop my own ass on the chair in front of him .

“We both know you already know the answer to that. Get to the point,” he says tensely.

“Have it your way. I was giving you an opportunity to get comfortable before we began, but I guess you’re not a man for foreplay,” I say huffing, slapping my hands on my knees, then pushing up from the seat.

My shadows lash out faster than he has time to flinch and slice his shirt open, exposing his unmarked chest and the one or two cuts they left behind. I tilt my head to the side curiously, while he cries out over the little paper cuts. There’s no doubt he’s marked somewhere, but I was honestly expecting a huge-ass branding on his heart with his standing in the Mastery.

“This is a pleasant surprise, Darstein. It’s not often that I’m wrong. If your mark isn’t on your heart, it must be on your head. But why?” I ask, tapping a dagger made of my gift against my lips.

“If you know about the marks, you know as well as I do that I can’t talk. So if you’re going to kill me, just do it already.”

His tone is almost pleased, as if he’s proud he’ll be dying with his lips sealed. Stupid, fool.

“Ah, of course. I have a solution for that, though,” I say as I let a devilish smirk cross my face.

“Bring Keeper to my torture room so he can remove this rune,” I tell the dragon, and his dark chuckle morphs my smirk into a full-fledged smile.

I don’t say anything else. I let my stare linger on Darstein, making him fidget uncomfortably in his chair. Only once I hear the knock at the door do I let a sinister chuckle bubble out of me.

“Gentlemen, thank you for joining us,” I say mockingly as I swing the door open wide.

“N-No. How?” Darstein stutters, his bravado completely falling apart as Draken walks in, then moves to the side for Keeper.

“Darstein. You’re looking…well, as you always do. The sniffling is more obvious without the Summum-Master around, though.”

“You’re not supposed to be here,” Darstein murmurs, seemingly shell-shocked, and Keeper looks at him like he’s lost his mind .

“I see you’ve not moved up any further into his good graces if he didn’t even bother to tell you I was freed from the forest. What did you do this time to piss him off?”

Well, I must say, this entire exchange has piqued my interest. Keeper brings up a very valid point and I intend to get the answer to his question, but first things first, we have a Perfecta Anima to save.

“We can play catch-up in a moment. We need to figure out what we can about the injection,” I say sternly.

Wordlessly, both Draken and Keeper step up to Darstein, not bothering to give him a heads-up about what’s going to happen. He knows by the way he’s already screaming and thrashing around like a beached fish.

As soon as Keeper removes the dagger from beneath his waistband and presses the tip of it to Darstein’s head, the entire rune reveals itself and I whistle low. The marking is massive. It stretches from the arch in one of his brows to the other. This scum must have unyielding loyalty to that piece of shit despite the disregard the Summum-Master has toward him.

I watch in silent fascination as Keeper repeats the same process he did on Layton, although way less gentle, and Draken isn’t attempting to flood him with happiness.

After the outline is complete and the rune begins to fade, Keeper finishes it off by adding his blood to the Reservoir gem. Darstein knows his time is now coming to an end, and when the hissing of the blood boiling stops, he chokes on a sob.

Pathetic.

“How you’ve had the stomach to do the things you do but can’t handle this is astonishing,” Keeper says, shaking his head.

“Anything I’ve ever done has been in the name of science.”

I chuff and roll my eyes at that ridiculous excuse. “I’ll explain why you’re wrong in a moment. First, explain to me what it was that you injected Oakly with and how we fix it.”

A smirk tips his lips upward and as I go to step toward him, quicker than I can follow, the dragon has his head snapping to the side from the force of his punch .

Gripping his most likely broken jaw, Draken forces his eyes to meet his. “Smile at the prospect of what you’ve done to my Primary’s sister and I’ll rip your lips from your fucking face.”

“I…I…there is no way to fix that,” Darstein bubblers.

There’s a fix for everything.

“The name of the injection. The ingredients. Its purpose. Everything. Now,” I bark, and command hundreds of small shadow needles to stab into his chest. He howls in pain, and I grab a handful of them, then snatch them out. “I’ll pull one out for every piece of information. The longer you take, the more I add and the bigger they’ll get. This is my one compromise. Pick your torture wisely.”

“Okay, okay,” he screams and I pull out another.

Just as he goes to open his mouth again, another knock at the door sounds, and Draken bounds over to get it. I sense Tillman’s heavy-ass booted steps without even turning around. The turbulence rolling through him is enough to shake the entire foundation below.

“Anything?” he asks.

“Doctor dickhead is about to tell us all about the injection now,” Draken growls, shooting Darstein a look of warning.

Tillman’s eyes take on their telling glow as he begins sifting through everything he can on his own. The longer he stares, though, the more his brows crease.

That can’t be good.

“Explain. Now,” he orders, pulling out of Darstein’s mind. On my left, Keeper pulls out his little black book that he likes to keep with him and a pencil, readying to make the list of everything. No doubt sensing we’re going to need that.

“We’ve named it the Vessel Deterior. Its purpose is to break down the body in order for the Summum-Master to remove the gifts and elements. The ingredients…” He hesitates, and as soon as two seconds pass, I cast out five shadow forks and embed them right below his collarbone. He bellows, and everyone looks at me.

I may have skipped a couple size growths there.

Whoops .

“The ingredients are from multiple realms,” he cries, heaving, trying to catch his breath, and I give him this moment rather than stab him again. “Natural born Elementrians do not die from diseases nor do we have natural causes of death, but one other realm does and another has one disease that can kill if contracted.”

“The nonmagical realm and Mystara Hollow,” I finish for him and he nods.

“Mystarians, much like us, could be immortal, but a couple centuries ago, a plague broke out. It was caused by an invasive plant—the Aconight plant—that blended with one of their remedy herbs. Its appearance was nearly identical, so many of the practitioners were adding that into their potions unknowingly. The herb strips their magic. Once consumed, there is no stopping it. Their magic basically…fades away. They’ve since identified the plant and have done away with it, aside from the supply the higher rulers keep.

“The nonmagical realm can and will die of both. Their lifespans are incredibly short, and they can die by any number of things. Fragile beings, to say the least. There are hundreds of thousands of diseases present in the realm, but one in particular called an autoimmune disease, got the Mastery’s attention.”

His eyes alight with wonder and I snarl before sending out a small switchblade to stab through his shoulder. Sure, I love learning about new and fascinating things, but he’s getting excited over these deadly diseases that have killed across realms. I don’t give a fuck if he’s a scientist and this is interesting for him. I won’t allow him to relish in some sort of sick satisfaction.

“Finish,” I command.

“An…autoimmune disease for nonmagical beings is when the body’s cells attack themselves. Rather than fighting off something as simple as a common cold, it’ll kill off the healthy cells that are trying to protect it. Then lastly—”

“The Poison of Essence,” Tillman grunts and we all whip our heads toward him.

“What?” I ask coldly .

“He uses a drop of the Poison of Essence,” he says begrudgingly.

“I am not the creator of this. I’ve just been modifying and perfecting it,” Darstein says defensively as if that makes him any less guilty.

“Explain the purpose of the three of them together. What is it doing to Oakly right now?” Tillman asks.

“Our bodies are created on a duality system. We have all the same components of nonmagical beings, but with the bonus of our gifts, magic, and elements. Those two function both together and separately. Our bodies could survive without our bonuses, but our bonuses must inhibit a body. Our bonuses are intricately woven in with the rest of us, so deeply, we, for the most part, cannot tell their functions apart.

“Once you mix those three ingredients together, it creates the means to separate the bonuses completely. The Aconight plant attacks the bonuses. It is not strong enough to make it fade as it does the Mystarians, but it weakens its ability to fight it off. Paired the drop of the Poison of Essence, it can tear it from the body once the body is broken down enough. That’s the point of the autoimmune disease. Without the protection of our bonuses, it can attack our cells, inhibit the body’s ability to heal. It’s the first ever Elementra infection.”

The room falls deathly silent.

I can’t even breathe through the onslaught of information now coursing through my mind.

“Keeper, you got all that?” Tillman asks solemnly and Keeper’s pencil stops scribbling after a moment, then he nods. “Draken, take him back to the others and give them this information. See if anyone can find a way around this.”

“You’re wasting your time. I’ve yet to come up with a reversal. Once it’s in the bloodstream, there’s no getting it out,” Darstein says and Draken’s fist flies across his face once again. This time, leaving him out cold.

“Go. We have more to discuss with him. If Willow or any of you need us, let me know,” Tillman orders once again, gripping Draken on the shoulder. The dragon doesn’t resist as he and Keeper leave silently, lost in their own thoughts and rage.

“What else did you see?” I ask once they shut the door .

“I didn’t go far back. I heard the ingredients but didn’t understand the two that weren’t from here. There’re some areas that are going to take a good bit of effort to uncover. He’s been drugging himself to forget things. What stuck out, though, was that he has an overwhelming repeated thought about how he’s better than the last scientist. I think that’s the man who did what he did to you,” he says cautiously, but I’m not upset he brought that up.

The opposite, actually.

I want that answer. Now.

Pulling out a healing vial from my shadows, I pop the cap and pause, glancing over at Tillman. “When he wakes up, bring up the former scientist and get an image of him from his mind. I’ll be able to identify him.”

At his nod, I pry Darstein’s jaw open and pour the contents in, then step back and wait for him to come to. It doesn’t take long. Gaster knows how to make a mean healing vial and this fucker should be grateful I allow him to absorb it.

Groaning and turning his head around, he startles when he fully comes to and sees the two of us glaring at him.

“Who did you replace in the Mastery?” Tillman immediately asks, then slaps his hand to Darstein’s forehead.

The piece of shit doesn’t even have to answer. He’s thinking it all loud and clear for Tillman to gather all on his own. The brighter his emerald eyes glow, the more Darstein screams. He’s not being gentle whatsoever in his pursuit for answers and I’m thrilled to see it.

After what feels like fucking forever, Tillman stumbles back, panting heavily and shaking his head. Laying his hand to my shoulder briefly, he sends me an image that makes my blood boil.

“That’s him,” I grunt and Tillman nods before tilting his own healing vial back.

“Fuck, that took a lot,” he groans.

“What all did you get?”

“Everything that isn’t completely wiped out from the drugs. Starting from the time he was born,” he says and my eyes widen.

Well, fuck me sideways .

Looks like someone got another upgrade.

“Did he know where he is?” I ask.

“Yeah. Dead. He set him up and the Summum-Master killed him.”

I’m not gonna lie and say I’m not pissed the fuck off about that. His life was mine to take, but I guess the alternative would’ve been he’d still be free to kill people. So I’ll let it go. His replacement will have to do.

“The jealousy got the best of you, didn’t it?” Tillman asks tauntingly.

Darstein’s eyes narrow and his lip tilts up. “I was Master Ale’s apprentice for years. I surpassed his capabilities by a mile, yet he’d do or say nothing to show the Summum-Master that I was just as skilled. They both treated me as nothing more than an insolent child.”

“Then when Ale told you that you couldn’t participate in a high-stakes experiment, you decided to just fuck the whole thing up and let the blame fall on him,” Tillman summarizes.

“How did he do that?” I ask.

“The infection was in its early phase at this point. They weren’t directly injecting it into people but instead forcing them to drink it. Its effects took longer and only those with extraordinary gifts survived long enough to have the process completed. He did something to the vial. That is the part that’s practically wiped clean from his mind. You’ve made sure to cover your tracks so the Summum-Master didn’t find out you were the cause of the failure and ultimately got his most treasured scientist killed.”

“Most treasured? How many are there?” I ask.

“There were two top scientists. Master Ale and Master Drin. Drin is in the nonmagical,” Darstein answers.

“Show me Drin,” I command Tillman, and he immediately obliges.

My shadows shoot out of me and surround Darstein. He’s my outlet for the anger seeping through my pores as the cold dead eyes flash through my mind.

Fuck these motherfuckers.

Every one of them.

“That’s the man who would draw Willow’s blood,” I tell him.

He nods knowingly before carrying on, “He’s still there. He works under Franklin, well, did. This idiot hasn’t been informed of really any of the newest updates, but he probably would’ve found out today. The process of the infection takes about six hours to fully infect. The Summum-Master was due to arrive at Pyra to complete the transfer of Oakly’s power. So we have three hours, give or take, to figure this shit out. He only knows this part of the ritual. Infecting the victim. Then the Summum-Master takes them away. Once we get Oakly figured out, maybe Keeper can fill in the rest.”

Three hours…

I’ll be using that time wisely.

“Head back to the others.”

“If we can’t—”

“Don’t speak it, Tillman. Don’t even fucking think it. Take what you’ve learned and go inform the others. Fill in any gaps they may have. I’ll be there once we’re done here,” I order low.

He holds my darkening gaze for a long moment, making sure he still sees the man inside of the monster.

He’s failed to realize—they all have other than my Primary—that the two have merged into one. There’re no longer multiple sides of myself that battle for dominance. When my Primary’s soul nuzzled itself inside of me all sweetly, my monster came crawling to her feet like a starved animal begging for a scrap of meat.

Now it’s her soul, myself, and my monster against the demons.

I won’t be telling him that currently, the three parts that make me whole are losing this internal battle.

He doesn’t need to know I can’t stop replaying how those hostages laid there, hopeless, begging for me to deliver them death with just their eyes. It was the same way I looked at anyone new who waltzed into my stone cage when I was taken.

No one ever granted my request. Nor did I grant theirs.

“I’ll keep you updated,” Tillman finally says, breaking the silence.

My eyes follow him out and when he shuts the door, I let out a deep, relieved breath.

Finally.

My demons want free .

My darkness wants to descend.

Spinning on my heel, I face a petrified Darstein. Twirling a dagger in my hand, I bend down to eye level and ask, “Any last words?”

His mouth opens and closes repeatedly as incoherent blabbering spews out.

Groaning impatiently and rolling my eyes, I slam my palm over his mouth.

“Never mind. I don’t give a fuck.”