Korac stared at the smooth rocks he stacked largest to smallest in a totem three weeks ago. The only existing marker, he supposed. He chose this mountain for a reason. The closest peak to Elden’s Sphere and Li beyond. So many memories lost to its magnificent view of the desiccated planet. Their argument from eight thousand years ago haunted him to this day. Often, Korac wondered if he supported the wrong side. At the time, no one could tell him otherwise, not even—

A brilliant flash dazzled the sun-scorched sky. He spun around to the castle. Magnesium light expelled upward for Elden’s Sphere and disseminated along Cinder’s atmosphere. The radiant column originated from the pit.

“Rayne.”

Korac released his wings and soared into the encompassing glare. A strange scent assailed him. The smell of salt water and sand, like the beaches on Earth. The wattage amplified. Tears dripped from his eyes. He shielded them with his arm and flew blindly to the tower. His soldiers’ cries reached him from their posts.

“General, I can’t see!”

“Turn away. Let your nacre heal you.” He glanced at the Icari stationed around the four corners of the pit. Each of them wiping blood and thicker things from their eyes, staggered by blindness. “Get the others and evacuate from here. No one comes near the pit until I say!”

“Yes, sir!”

Before recklessly spiraling into the abyss, he spared some thought as to Rayne’s mindset. Would he encounter her wrath? Or would he meet the peace she found in her smile?

Only one way to find out. Eyes closed, he plummeted into the light geysering up from the shaft in the castle. Warm and pure, it reminded him of the sun on a summer afternoon. Eventually reaching the bottom, he relied on muscle memory stored from weeks of hourly visits. He dared not approach the Complex from which roared a vacuous wailing. He settled onto the shore and shielded his eyes, waiting.

The sound of splashing nearby surprised him. Too bright to open his eyes and check, he listened.

Sagan cried, “Rayne!” Of course she was here.

“I told you to get down, girl!”

At that familiar voice, the blood drained from Korac’s body. His skin shrank from his bones. Icy dread filled his veins. Although the last time he heard that voice was eight thousand years ago, he wouldn’t mistake it for anyone else. Celindria. Alive.

The wailing thinned into a whistle.

Fuck perfect eyeballs. He opened his eyes and stepped in their direction. “Sagan!”

“Korac!”

“Fuck.”

“That’s right, bitch. I’ve waited a long time—”

The whistle stopped.

One breath. Another. White silence. To both his relief and absolute terror, the light receded. It retreated from the chute and peeled from the walls. Before long, opening his eyes no longer burned. Sagan emerged from the light halfway between him and the next person in the room.

Celindria never physically appealed to him, but now that he saw into her festering soul, he wanted nothing more than to end the misery she left in her wake. She had the nerve to nod at him.

Careful for both their axes, Korac rushed to Sagan’s side. He cradled her face in his hands and checked her eyes over. “Are you—”

The beat of wings.

The two of them peered slowly toward the heart of the remaining light. It wasn’t receding. The young woman hovering in the center absorbed it.

Rayne.

The sun blazed in her eyes. Not metaphorically, and not just any sun. Li flared and glowed from her face, sure as if her eyes reflected the surface of Elden’s sphere. The effect left him breathless, and for the first time since he became General, Korac found himself on his knees.

And she smiled.

The sound of wings fluttered in the air, but nothing—There. A faint shimmer of gold flowed on one buffeting wing. He caught the tinkling metal forming the lines of a circuit board repeatedly patterned throughout the strange gossamer, almost invisible material holding her alight.

Sagan cupped her hand over her mouth and whispered, “Oh my god.”

Blood dried and flaked from Rayne’s unblemished pale skin. He winced at the clothes he helped dress her in. Black shorts, scant top, and ribbons criss-crossed along her arms and legs. Icarean wedding garb. Not his finest moment.

Rayne drank the last of the light. Her eyes shone enough to illuminate the pit. She peered at the black stone walls, the lake, anything with the same angelic smile. Raising her hands, she examined her arms. This was her first time looking through eyes gifted with nacre vision. She made a fist with her left arm that bunched the muscles in that previously dead limb. Dead no longer.

Unexpectedly, she looked to the right as if listening. Quiet words left her lips quickly. Alarmingly so. Was she counting? The last number he heard on a breath was “three hundred and fourteen.” Dread suffused Korac. The exact number of guards he assigned to the castle. Could she hear their pulse? Smell them? This wasn’t typical of an average nacre.

Rayne locked her burning gaze on him. No, not him. His hands on Sagan’s face. The General tilted her head and frowned in disapproval. He stepped away from the blond woman.

Sagan protested, “He told me not to come. Don’t blame him.”

Celindria quipped, “I don’t think she likes you, General.”

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

“This isn’t the time.” He thrust a hand at Rayne. “Why didn’t you ever look like that?”

“Because I can control my emotions.”

At that, the light inside Rayne pulsed around her. Li’s flames melted into the white heat from earlier. It spread from her.

Celindria took a shaky—interesting—step toward the lake. “If you use that ability, you’ll take Cinder with you.”

His heart heaved in his chest. “What?!”

Rayne kept her eyes locked on her ancestor as if she were a target.

“It drains Elden’s Sphere. Nox isn’t even on the planet. Your revenge will be hollow. Everyone will die.” Celindria vanished. When she reappeared, she gripped Sagan by the arm. “Everyone.”

“Ow, you’re hurting me!”

Rayne furled her wings around herself and spiraled along the lake’s surface. The three shore-side observers shielded themselves from the inky spray. When Korac looked back, the Progeny General walked along the water’s surface. The water cleaned the blood from her as if she took time to scrub. Her long black hair already dry.

With a flare from her eyes, the ribbons tied along her arms and legs burned away one strand at a time. A cord of bright blue leather coiled along her skin, following the striation of her muscle. The effect left the toned indentions emphasized while the cable snaked to her fingers where it formed into gloves. Tops and bottoms replaced with woven cords, leaving her sides exposed as it skirted over the tops of her thighs. The leather came from within her, made of her.

As Rayne glided gracefully along the water, Korac noticed Sagan’s increased heart rate and the heaving of her chest as she watched her long-time lover approach them. Yes, the girl knew how to make an entrance. He appreciated that kind of artistry, but looking at her now, he believed she surpassed him. How could he compete with a god?

Rayne looked at him and smiled. Describing that as a smile took a millennium off of him. The sun shone in her eyes as her lips turned upright.

Korac bowed his head.

Her bare feet came into view. Over his head, her voice sounded normal, “On your feet, General Korac.”

He stood and found comfort in her gaze, having returned to her natural bright blue. As he chased the glimmer of gold in her wings, a faint azure tint pulsed beneath her skin. Tritan blue.

She frowned up at him. “I can’t forgive you for all of it, but I appreciate what you tried to do. I won’t forget it.”

Korac recoiled. It was more than he expected from her. More than he deserved. He still believed every act he committed was for the good of the Icarean race. However, the suffering inflicted on the current Progeny and humanity was not as warranted as originally advocated. “Should you win, I await your reprisal.”

She glanced at Sagan. “I’m beginning to see whose side you’re on.”

Their shared desire peered between them with stress lining her face. Sagan spun the axe on a reflex seeking comfort and control.

Everyone ignored Celindria’s rotting living corpse.

The Progeny General beamed at Sagan, who grinned back. “Thanks for the rescue.”

“Let’s get you out of here.” She went to put an arm around her leader, and Rayne skipped out. Korac never sensed her movement.

Startling them, she called from a few steps behind, “Please.” Every muscle in her body went rigid. Distraught. She swallowed twice before adding, “Please. Don’t touch me.”

Fuck.

Sagan gaped. “What? Why?”

Rayne spared Korac a glance and shook her head once. Her lips tightened in a thin line as she asked him without words to spare Sagan the truth.

The object of their affections glared up at him. “What happened to her?! What did you do?!” She speared the axe at him.

“It’s more what I didn’t do.”

Laughter erupted from beside the trio. They turned slowly to Celindria. She cackled in her diabolical resurgence from hell. “You’ll let Nox take everything from you still?”

Rayne vanished again, and when she reappeared this time, she held Celindria in the air by her throat. Delightful image to store for a rainy day. “You were there. In the crowd. Did you enjoy the show?” The descendent’s eyes flashed and flamed inside.

Korac watched enthralled, uncertain if Rayne understood Celindria’s capacity for devastation. The ancestor addressed possibly her only equal. “The only way to stop it would destroy Elden’s Sphere. Did you expect me to burn Cinder for you?! Young and impulsive, you don’t understand—”

Celindria’s voice squeezed away as Rayne flew up to level their matching gazes. “Xelan is—was—older than you. He would have done it. To make it stop, he would have destroyed the planet.”

The First Progeny’s eyes widened as she clutched Rayne’s hand.

The younger woman’s voice shifted into varying pitches. It echoed within the cavern. “That’s why he never looked for you after Thailea. You’re so far from being human that an Icarus would make a better one than you. He never wanted to see you again.”

Celindria stopped struggling. The fear on her face wiped clean, exposing what lay beneath the mask. Cold. Alien. Wrong.

She gripped Rayne by the wrist. The young woman flinched at the contact. With minor effort, Celindria backed herself out of Rayne’s grip. Chunks of her own flesh came away in the younger girl’s hand. Her voice shifted into a bass pitch. “You are not prepared for what’s to come.”

Rayne ripped Celindria’s throat out in a fleshy ball. The First Progeny fell into nowhere. She vanished midair as if she could Seamswalk. On a breath, the young woman promised, “I will be.”

With her back to them and rinsed of blood, Korac balked at her skin. The tattoo of Elden’s Verse remained. How? The nacre healed everything. A metallic glint glittered within the symbols. The same shimmer in her wings. Gold. She put gold in the ink, and it affected her nacre. She showed no adverse reaction to it. The sprite never ceased to impress him.

Sagan reminded the room, “We need to go. Now.” She turned to Korac. “Expect to see me soon.” The look she gave him wasn’t entirely friendly.

He bowed his head to her. “I look forward to it as always, Lt. General.”

“I need to know something.” Rayne appeared behind them again. She was very proficient for someone who woke up fresh to her abilities.

“Yes, General?”

Rayne fought a little with the words. “Why did he swallow Xelan’s nacre? It was so ugly and cruel.”

Korac shook his head. Humans. “No... it wasn’t. That’s why it surprised me.”

“I don’t understand.”

“It’s a lyric from Elden’s Second Verse. Didn’t have enough room for the sequel on your back?” Did her lips almost twitch into a smile?

Rayne rolled her eyes. “Please recite it, if you don’t mind.”

“‘Consume the stone. Take the warrior you fell to victory with you.’” He glimpsed Sagan’s admiration as he sang the line. His chest swelled. Maybe still a competitor, after all.

“Did I mention the ugly and cruel bit?”

“We interpret it as loving your enemy enough to take them to the end so they might see all along your intentions were good.”

Instant Atramentous with a flash. “Nox doesn’t understand love or goodness. His motives lie elsewhere.” And back to normal, which included pulsing blue skin.

Both Sagan and Korac exchanged a look. Something new lived inside Rayne, and it did not like Nox.

The girl in question turned her head and listened to some strange frequency again. “He’s at the conduit. We need to hit the dungeon on our way out.”

Korac frowned. “How could you possibly—”

“His heartbeat is slower than anyone else I know. Aside from Tumu.”

Concern flashed briefly across Sagan’s face. “You can hear it on Earth?”

“I’ll find Nox anywhere.”

A chill rose along Korac’s spine, and goosebumps pricked his skin. He peered over at the untouched Martyr Complex. “I’ll stage the escape so it looks like someone at least tried to stop you.”

Sagan asked, “Where’s the dungeon? And how can I Seamswalk with you if I can’t—if you won’t—”

“Here.” Korac slipped out of the thumb-holes and pulled his shirt over his head. Oh cute. Both of them gaped. He tallied that up as a good day.

After the girls recovered, they accepted his shirt and held it between them. Rayne repeated his instruction from yesterday, perfectly, “Take the ramp into the tunnel. One right. Two lefts. A ramp down. Four lefts. And you’re there.” She glanced at him with a nod.

She heard every word said to her inside that box. He glanced back to the coffin. Aware and caged inside. This was a fucking mess.

“Don’t worry, General Korac.”

He snapped back to her. She and Sagan waited with his shirt tied between them.

“I know Xelan was the very best of your race. That’s why I’ll save Cinder. To save more like him.”

With that, the means of their salvation Seamswalked to reap some vengeance. “Elden, help that boy.”