68. Scorned

68. Scorned

Skylenna

The aftermath leaves me inthe form of a block of stone. Frozen. Muted. A human vessel of nothingness. Dessin’s arms go slack around my waist with my sharp nails still biting into his forearm.

We blink through the cloud of pink smog and floating ash. My ears ring, tuning out the war. My chest shrivels in on itself, warping my spine, beating against my soul with bony fists. The shock that takes over is a cage that wants to lock me down and protect my mind from irreversible trauma.

But I still see her running like an angel, flying on the wind with purpose. I can feel the swell of determination she emanated wanting to save her best friend. I smell the outcome of her demise.

“Skylenna?” Warrose’s face fills my vision.

There are so many sounds. The cries of death are like an untuned violin. Wind and rain. Metal puncturing meat. Teeth snapping at limbs.

“DaiSzek can’t defend himself!” Warrose tries to reach me again. Dessin’s arms unwind around me as this seems to break through the impenetrable glass of our shock.

A swarm of soldiers hold tall shields as they close in on the wounded RottWeilen. Slow marches to ensure he doesn’t attack from being cornered.

A searing filter of red fills my vision. My nostrils flare as I turn my head to the right, slowly, like a possessed doll coming to life. In the distance, closer than before, the Mazonist Brothers riding like kings in a merlot-rusted chariot. Their old, weathered faces smile down at me. They watch DaiSzek fall from glory like a theater performance.

And they’re resting in the safety behind their army.

“Protect our boy,” I grit in rageful daze to Dessin.

“Skylenna…”

“I’m coming with you.” Marilynn touches my elbow, still covered in Aurick’s blood.

“As are we, dashna,” Asena says with the conviction of the white wolf queen she truly is. And along come the remaining members of her pack, stained in red and black against their fluffy coats of snowy fur.

Dessin blinks at her, parting his mouth to tell her something that weighs heavy in his heart. But it’s as if Asena already knows what he’s going to say. She bows her head as if she already knows whatever it is he wants to share.

“Did they fight well?” she asks.

“The best I’ve ever seen,” Dessin says.

Runa shows up with a wide grin of defiance, followed by Bellanne from Faecrest colony.

I turn back to Dessin, trembling with an energy that conquers all and quiets my mind.

“Protect. Our. Boy.”

I wait for no one as I make my descent on the twins that have enforced evil and unforgivable cruelty on their nation. The leaders who are to blame for the death of Knightingale. The rulers who kept us locked in prison.

The dead brothers who will carry the brunt of my retribution.

Because a scorned angel is far more frightening than the devil himself.

Jumping over piles of bodies, severed limbs, and burned carnage, I feel the other women tread behind me. They clear a path as my arms twitch and shiver with pent-up hostility. The thought of Knightingale springing into the darkness as it closed around her, running with a flaming explosive, singeing the inside of her mouth…I can’t unsee it. She was so brave. So small compared to DaiSzek, yet fierce with her conviction.

We’ve lost Aurick.

We’ve lost Kaspias.

And although they were not always friends, they lost their lives for us.

My brain splinters and curls at the corners, reaching for the void, channeling every tear I am going to spill from this day forward as I endure flashbacks of this day.

Malcolm and Maxwell are dressed in their most royal attire, with jewels and robes and smug smiles that begin to fade as the women around me slay their best defenses to get me closer. Their white brows rise cautiously, darting their eyes back and forth. Swamp dawpers are sent in to attack from every angle, but between my ancient sword removing their heads and Asena siccing her white wolves on them…all that’s left is their supreme guard.

The most powerful of Vexamen Breed commanders just like Kaspias.

My mind flashes through the void like a whip, and I snatch the guards before Runa and Marilynn can touch them. My unit halts behind me as the commanders go stiff, eyes rolling in the backs of their heads. I dominate their souls like a bad omen, filling their bloodstreams with my authority as I sink my claws into the essence of their brains.

“You are mine now,”I command in a voice that echoes with darkness and a lack of humanity.

The supreme guard drops to their knees.

“Eat your masters.”I grin with bloodshot eyes. “Slowly.”

Those around us watch the show of cannibalism in horror. The Mazonist Brothers are too old, too weak, too fucking spineless to defend themselves against the now bloodthirsty guard. It was too easy to summon this violence, to get what I wanted from the void.

And even though my body quakes and pulses with hypothermia clutching at my nervous system, I watch the demise of the men who have ruined so many lives. I relish in their screams, the choking sounds that gurgle in their throats as teeth rip at their necks.

“You’re a fucking terror, Skylenna,” Runa utters next to me.

I glance at her, though my vision goes fuzzy around the edges, and I lose my breath.

“She really is.” Dessin stands to my left with crossed arms and a look of astonishment as he pairs me to the scene of flesh-eating guards ripping Malcolm and Maxwell to shreds.

“Dessin,” I croak thickly. My body fills with ice as I gaze up at him and lose stability in my legs. With bloodstained arms, he folds around me, scooping me against his bare chest.

“What’s happening?” he asks.

“She gets hypothermia when she controls someone from the void,” Marilynn answers.

Dessin uses a hand to lift my chin. Dark-mahogany eyes dart back and forth between my two eyes as he searches for a solution.

“Why haven’t they stopped?” I whisper hoarsely.

“Who?”

“The war. I’ve destroyed their leaders. Why hasn’t the war ended?”

He looks around, clutching me closer as he realizes the violence is its own entity. There is no stopping it or slowing it down.

“They’ve been brainwashed since they were young, Skylenna. I don’t think they’d stop until their hearts no longer beat.”

But I’ve killed their leaders…

I stare off into the distance at our armies defending DaiSzek lying on the ground, breathing shallowly with spears sticking out of his back like a porcupine. Niles and Ruth snuggle against him in tears as the war goes on.

“It was supposed to end…” I mutter against Dessin’s hot chest.

“I know.”

“I’m so cold.”

“I know that, too, Skylittle.”

My glistening gaze shoots up to those chocolate eyes softening around the edges. Kane looks down at me with both anxiety and confusion twisting his features.

“Whyhow are you here?!”

His Adam’s apple stretches the length of his throat. He shakes his head, looks around, and holds me tighter to his chest as if he’s trying to summon the answer to that question as well.

“You needed me.”

I nod with my vision blurring from the river of tears. “Yes.”

I blink in surprise as Kaspias appears in front of me. He’s surrounded by a soft, glowing light. One of warmth and eternal love that can only be described as something holy. And holding his hand is my Scarlett.

“He’s right, Skylenna. You need him.” Kaspias steps closer, though no one sees him. “It’s always been there; don’t you see it? You’ve both been preparing for this day since you were children.”

What are you talking about?

“God gave you two a place that you’d need one day. One that you two grew to know as home,” Scarlett says.

I close my eyes, needing no time to search for the answer they’ve given me.

Ambrose Oasis blossoms in my vision with a light so luminous, it should blind me. The swaying purple wisteria. The meadow of long, luscious grass and calming lavender dancing in the wind.

“They were all children once, just like me.” Kaspias reaches for my hand. It’s no longer covered in scars and burn marks. “You are warrior angels sent by God himself with the power to reverse the trauma and evil done to them.”

Fear skitters up my neck as I look into Kane’s eyes. This will take more power than I’ve ever exerted. It will likely kill me. But maybe, with Kane and Ambrose Oasis, we can do this.

“Kane?”

His breath is shallow as he glances down at me.

“Will you go somewhere with me? You were right, I do need you. And I know you won’t remember all of the moments we’ve spent here, and one day I’ll work endlessly to give those moments back…but right now, I need you to do this with me.”

His full lips part as he tries to decipher my choice of words. “Okay.”

My aching, frozen body sinks deeper into hypothermia as I drop us into the void, funneling down, down, down until we arrive in Ambrose Oasis.

I never realized the connections stemming through this location before. It has a million strings, wires, flailing vines linking to the many minds around us. I reach my hand out to slide it into Kane’s. His warm fingers curl around my hand, squeezing gently.

“I think I’ve always needed your strength to do what comes next.” Feeling the void thrumming through me, I bind with the links, grasping at the minds of every Vexamen soldier on the battlefield. Kane goes rigid next to me, sharing in this experience.

And I do what was done to Kaspias.

I change their childhood, one memory at a time. Twisting their fate with the palm of my hand. Giving them mothers, brothers, sisters, pets. School. Playtime. Best friends. Toys. Desserts. Happiness. Lovers. Heartbreaks.

I kill the violence that was inflicted on them.

I stone their trauma into submission.

And Kane fights their demons with me. We erase the abuse, the beatings, the days of starvation that helped mold who they are.

And with life drumming like a heartbeat into Ambrose Oasis, I feel the war go quiet on the outside. It simmers from boiling to flat, motionless water.

The sons and daughters of Vexamen are altered, draining their horrible memories into the void, being vanquished in Ambrose Oasis.

As we wipe their slates clean, I droop into Kane’s arms. The purple wisteria fades. The smell of lavender and honeysuckle vanishes. Kane holds me in the smoke and rain of the quieting war. Swords stop clashing. The screams have softened to quiet moans.

“Kane?” I choke.

“It’s Dessin.”

I peel my eyes open to look at him through my swollen lids. We’re sitting in the mud, hearing the thudding of dropping weapons. Vexamen Breed holding up their hands in surrender.

“Dessin.”

“Yes, Skylenna.”

“Take me to DaiSzek.”

The ground falls away from supporting my backside as Dessin lifts me. My eyes are closed, but I can sense the crowd parting for us. Kind words. Victorious cheers. It’s all a fever dream in the fogginess of my mind.

“I think he moved—where is he?” Dessin asks someone.

“Over there,” Warrose responds close to my head, his voice sounding drained and loaded with a cry he’s suppressing.

As Dessin moves in the direction of wherever DaiSzek was moved to in his wounded state, my eyes pop open at the sound of our boy whimpering in agony.

“What’s wrong?” I jolt upright against Dessin’s chest.

Gazing down at DaiSzek, wounded and weakened, I see Niles and Ruth sitting close to him. And many warriors from the other colonies are down on one knee. Even the white wolves bow close to them.

“What is it?” I ask again.

“He’s…” Dessin’s voice catches. “He’s found Knightingale’s ashes.”

“Oh.” I press my hand over my mouth, but my face tightens together as I let out a cry. “Oh, my boy.”

Gently, Dessin lowers me to the ground near DaiSzek’s head, sitting among the piles of gray soot and ash. His snout is covered in open gashes, blood, and debris. The spears are still lodged in his back.

“He wouldn’t let us remove them,” Ruth says wetly, sniffling into the back of her hand.

Dessin assures her we’ll take him somewhere we can stop the bleeding and bandage him with clean cloth and water.

I lean down to DaiSzek’s face, brushing my hand over his head softly. His whines vibrate under his fur, humming through my fingertips. And I break apart with him, tears bursting free as we cry together for our fallen friend. For the small Ginger Wrathbull who fought so bravely. For his friend that followed him everywhere.

And the world feels it, too. The sky sheds flecks of snow and ash though it is not winter. A white blur descends around us as the war has finally come to rest.

“I loved her, too,” I tell him through a sob.

“As did I.” Dessin places a hand on DaiSzek’s paw, using his other to rub circles over my back.

The audience remains silent as we sit in Knightingale’s ashes, heavy with exhaustion. The weight of all we’ve given up, all we’ve endured crumbles around us like a gentle apocalypse.

“Dessin?” I look up to him through my gushing wall of tears.

“Yes?”

And I bow my eyes in sadness, speaking words that ultimately hold a different meaning. Words that I will never forget.

“Hell has finally frozen over.”

His brows knit together as his own gaze glitters with tears. He swallows, then nods his head. “Hell has finally frozen over.”