Page 13 of A Kingdom of Wild and Power
Elric chuckled as he rejoined them with his satchel. He handed Ylva her bow and quiver, which she accepted with thanks. She had known them but a handful of days, yet already a fragile thread of trust bound her to them. Something deeper, as though she had always been meant to.
‘Very well, you can ride with me,’ Ylva said.
She caught the spark of a smile before it even reached his lips.
‘Who says I want to ride with you?’ Arden drawled. ‘I should rather ride with Nymeria. She’s a quiet companion. She never interrupts and always listens.’
Nymeria slid a blade from her boot with a dangerous gleam.
‘On second thought,’ Arden amended smoothly, ‘you and I scarcely know each other. A pleasant ride upon your horse sounds…delightful.’
Ylva laughed outright, unable to help herself.
I’ve heard terrible rumours of what it means for a God-Killer to be created. I’ve heard what it does to the one that becomes it. They must give up a part of themselves—who they were, the goodness in them—to this ancient thing that takes over and corrupts their mind until there is nothing left of the person they once were.
It is ancient magic.
One that must never be used.
Tabitha Wysteria
Mal glanced down at the gentle swell of her stomach, one hand tracing idle circles across it as she hummed softly to herself. A few servants had slipped into her chambers earlier that night to stoke the blue wyverian fire, its ghostly flames casting rippling shadows along the stone walls. She had never cared much for the heat, but Ash would surely perish in the bitter chill of wyverian air.
Her gowns had been altered again, seams stretched and fabric loosened to accommodate her growing form. Soon enough, she suspected even movement would become a trial; the thought of wielding a blade again felt almost laughable.
‘You ought to get rid of it,’ said the voice.
Mal’seyes lifted to the mirror, settling upon the figure standing in the centre of her chamber. The creature had first spoken within her mind, whispering in the wake of her brother’s death, when her power had torn itself awake from the depths. Its voice—ancient, mournful, born of millennia steeped in despair—had once comforted her. It had bound itself to her soul, reshaping her into the God-Killer.
But now the voice had taken form.
It no longer dwelt inside her. Itwalked.
The figure before her was her likeness, yet not entirely. To see herself pacing the room was a grotesque sort of mirror, one subtly twisted, her reflection made wicked. The runes that marked Mal’s fingers and arms now crawled across the doppelgänger’s entire body, coiling even across the face, the black ink bleeding into the purple of her eyes until they were almost swallowed whole by darkness.
‘And why would I do that?’ Mal said, forcing her attention back to the curve of her stomach, willing herself to ignore the presence lingering behind her. The presence no one else knew of. The one she had kept hidden from every soul she loved.
‘Because it will be the end of you,’ the creature replied. ‘You fancied yourself the chosen one, but you were wrong.Shewill be the chosen one. Your daughter will rise and she will be the one to end you.’
Mal’s body went rigid.
‘And your husband will help her.’
‘Ash loves me,’ Mal said, her voice tight.
The creature snorted, a sound sharp with mockery. ‘He loves you because the curse compels him. He is bound to you in a cruel little game crafted by capricious gods. But it isn’t real. None of it is real.’
‘Be silent!’ Mal spun, teeth clenched. ‘What do you wantfrom me?’
‘I want him gone,’ the creature said simply. ‘Ash complicates everything. That thread of love binding you together will never allow you to become…’ It paused, considering. ‘To rise to your full potential.’
‘What are you?’
‘I am you, and you are I.’
Mal frowned. ‘What does that even mean?’
A sigh slipped from the creature’s lips. ‘It means we are the same, two halves of a single creation. I came into being the moment you awakened as the God-Killer, but…’
