Revenge

  One step into the light was all it took for her to understand what Selene had been talking about. She could feel herself burning up.

  Two steps, and nothing changed.

  Three, arriving at the base of a tree, it finally hit her. Her anima felt off. Her throat closed up, and her bones ached. She felt nauseous, like she wasn’t worthy of being in the presence of the trees’ white grandeur, its all-encompassing umbrella of black foliage.

  Four, and she could start to hear a voice. A soft voice.

  Welcome back.

  “Did you hear that?” she barely whispered to Darius, who had been walking step by step with her to make sure she didn’t fall behind. Her own voice sounded strangely muted.

  He shook his head and took another step.

  I missed you.

  Ty followed suit, but nothing changed. It was just the voices, the warmth of the trees, the veritable hug of anima she could feel constricting her senses and making her head dizzy. Where there had been anger, confusion, and fear was the light. Nothing but the light.

  You came back for me.

  She did not walk further, an arm’s length away from the trees while Darius was so close to one he could have touched it had he slightly raised his hands.

  The majesty of it all was not lost on her as she took in the breathtaking sights, the innumerable shining trees with bases as thick as a child was tall, foliage so dense it could easily blanket the entire ground had they all fallen at once. The pristine, fine sand under her that molded itself to her feet, as pearly white as the trunks of the trees. The sturdy, white straw fence that enclosed the sanctuary and reached so high it could have been trees themselves.

  How strange it was to be in the presence of something so far-reaching, and to know that it was closed off to most people. Hidden, used, harvested. To have only its shadowy leaves reach all that surrounded it, so that all knew darkness, but not all knew light.

  Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

  Looking up at the concealed sky, she could see that the trunks extended far above them, almost too far to see properly with the hazy glow blinding them. But she knew without a shadow of a doubt that there was darkness above.

  In the sanctuary, however, there was no such darkness. Nothing that could taint the world except for them.

  The Ancients, who could do no harm.

  Her, the halfling, who could end all traces of magic from the world if only she had the courage to do it.

  You’ve grown again.

  “This is it,” she continued to whisper, staring at the snowy bark of the tree in front of her.

  Every time you come, you grow a little bit more.

  “This is it,” echoed Darius.

  Something warm trickled down her face as she stared at the trees and at her classmate, whose head now rested on one of the trunks, his eyes closed. His face serene, at peace, as if he could feel the Earth Mother’s love, as if this was his last remaining salvation.

  I’m so proud of you.

  “How many sanctuaries are there?”

  “Twelve. One for each Grace.”

  You made it this far.

  “I can’t do this,” she whispered, the world around her blurring.

  I believe in you.

  “I can’t do this,” she said again as if it did something, as if standing still could alter the flow of time, could alter fate, could do anything to break the chain of destiny that bound them all together for as long as she could remember.

  I love you so, so much.

  She closed her eyes and put her hands over her face, finding comfort in the darkness. Where she could not see, where she could not be seen. Where there was no bright light to expose her, to expose the truth that was laid bare for all to see, what the Elder had told her. Where she did not have to accept how the Earth Mother’s eternal love had been misused and abused. Where she did not have to accept the truth in what she had to do.

  Where she was alone.

  I’m here.

  When she let her hands fall from her face, dragging the cowardly tears off her cheeks, she could see Darius with his head still by the tree. The hot sand underneath her. The shadow of trees above her. Her own shadow barely visible under her feet.

  And then she could see the world ravaged by flames and destruction, blood and tears, suffering and strife, with her own shadow at its epicenter. A shadow with a thin golden sword in her hands. Blood on its blade, blood on its hilt, her hands, her arms, her hair, her body, her face; it engulfed the stricken world, purging it of all its light. No love, no forgiveness. A world without light, without darkness. Red. It was all red. No more hope. No more soul. No more sin.

  The price of greed. The price of time.

  Revenge, whispered the voice.