The Fiends
Book IV of the Chosen Shine Saga
Chapter 1
The Light
“A sacrifice to save humanity. That is what I am offering. Will you take it?”
No, I don’t want this. Howling rage and regret filled her ears, each a sharp jab for those she had failed. They were souls she was supposed to protect, yet in the face of despair, she was breaking. Confronted with the worst possible memory, she no longer wanted it. Her mouth wanted to let loose a scream, but was unable to. Her hand wanted to claw through the inky blackness, but there was nothing to grab of those shadowy wisps.
“Are you sure of this?” she asked. Her body was cloaked in light, speaking to the man that kneeled before her and the others in a white void.
“I have never been more sure,” he said, and the man lifted his head. The sight of him in that memory was a jolt to the heart. No, more like a knife that pierced her breast. Her hands rattled and her body convulsed.
Please. Please, stop this. Someone. Anyone. Just…let it end.
Her body sunk further into the abyss, and in that moment, the sleeve of her shirt rode up, revealing the crystal beneath. It was breaking down. There was very little time left to her. There was nothing she could do.
Yet in that moment, that was what she wished for.
She was just so…tired.
“The King of the Dark is a blight on all humanity. Whether anyone else pulls his strings, or foments this conflict, someone has to stop the Fiends. Someone has to teach them that humanity never gives up!”
“Your lives are fleeting. Against the immortal Fiends, what can you do?” she asked, that ethereal voice echoing. It was a drill to her brain, and she hated every second that she heard it. Her greatest mistake.
“Our bodies may break, but you’re proof enough: the soul endures!” he said. It was a whip to her, causing her to flinch, her hand retracting from the pinprick of light that would have provided hope. Why had she let him believe that? “Our souls are boundless! Capable of magical energy that sustains the very fate of this world!”
“Even if you knew where that fate led?” asked another voice. To this, the man stood, a grin upon his face. He was determined.
And she used that determination. Convinced him it would work.
Convinced herself it would work.
“Even if humanity’s fate is to be destroyed. Even if a bleak future awaits us ahead, I have to believe in what we can do. I have to believe she can be saved.”
It was foolishness. She knew it. What could one man, whose existence in this world was nothing to them, do to hold back the tides of fate? Humanity could never endure, and it had been proven time and time again.
That fact began to hurt most of all as her ghostly form stood, looming over the man. He did not flinch or waver. “Do you truly believe your one life can break this world’s fate? Do you truly think this struggle against the Fiends can save anything?”
He was silent, his eyes closing, covered by the shadows that pulled her deeper. His optimism was being concealed from her, leaving only the words he said that had finalized her decision. The one she wished she had never made.
But of course, I made it…they were all tools. Just pieces on the board.
“Maybe it won’t, but if I can save one person… If I can save Winnie, or the life of someone who can stand against the Fiends, then I’ll consider it meaningful. Use me. Seal away Golbrucht. End this war.”
How she wished she had waited even a second longer to give her answer.
But she didn’t.
There was no hesitation, or doubt. The King was a threat, and here stood the man willing to sacrifice all to contain him. To save them.
Humanity didn’t factor.
“Please, stop!” she shouted, her voiced muted and muffled as it tore from her lungs, a ragged gasp expelling. It was yet overpowered by the memory that held her in chains.
“Then I shall use you. Let your body become as light to seal him in a prison. Let us end this long war.” That very light burgeoned through the shadow, but it was as dullness to her eyes. The moment she placed a hand on his chest, his body began to break apart, his soul becoming fragments of light that shot over all the land. It wrapped a cocoon around the castle between both worlds, anchored down, sealing Golbrucht away for eternity.
And she sunk, unable to hope anymore.
It was, and would always be, her greatest regret.
She had used Eric North, let him die, all to protect herself and others. It was selfish, and she knew it, closing her eyes to accept the inevitable. More memories tried to ensnare her, remind her of her failings. Memories of the man who wasn’t meant to be there, who she kept a close eye on, only for his presence to fill her with more guilt. To the grave of the man she had killed. Even memories of the woman filled with such hate and rage as a result of those actions. Her actions.
All of it led to a solitary conclusion.
Please…just let me die…
“…Krysta…!” His voice was muddled, but she could hear it. None of it mattered. But the slightest jerk of her body, this disintegrating body of hers, told her that she wanted to reach for it. Reach for the voice of he who had stood against the darkness. “Is this your despair?”
Against all of her wishes to keep sinking, her lips moved. “Yes.”
Her words broke through her lips, pouring out what she had done, what she had been forced to relive. They would hate her. They would no longer consider her one of their own. Not now. After all the lies, the deflections, the manipulations she had done.
Just like the Fiends, she was a monster.
“Yeah, well, who cares?!”
Krysta’s eyes snapped open and looked at the hand reaching for her. The hand rejecting fate, rejecting the horrible things she’d done. It took everything she had to not reach for it and accept what fate was going to deliver. She wanted to stress that him. He needed to let her go. She deserved it, never getting to see him again, the way she had taken Eric from Winifred.
Terrill refused to accept any of those words, fueled by her own despair.
“I don’t care about any of that, Krysta!” His scream was strained, his body held in place by a tendril of the Shadow that was eating at both of them, destroying the outside world. His hand was lunging for her, but in her soul, she knew she did not deserve to take it. He, however, refused to stop fighting. “I don’t care if the world said we were never supposed to meet! I don’t care about fate! I don’t care what you are, or what sins you think you’ve committed! I care about right now! I care about you, Krysta! That won’t ever change! No matter how broken you are. No matter what you think you’ve failed at. I know you made a difference, and we can keep making those differences, I just need you to reach!
“Because I don’t want you to sink into shadow. Because any world where you’re not in it, is a world that’s wrong, and I’ll fight fate, Fiends and anything else to make sure you stay with me! With us! So please, take my hand, Krysta! Let’s fight this together!”
Fight…fate…? The unbelievable gravity with which his words were being spoken cut through the darkness and regret. It was just like Eric, but something stronger. Someone who refused to give up on the person next to him. Someone who didn’t want to focus on the now, but on the future. Their future.
Just like that, Krysta could no longer hold back the tears. He wanted to be with her.
And she…
“I want to be with you! With all of you right now! I want the time I have left in this body to be spent with you! I want to free them! I want to…” Her words tapered, unsure how to put her feelings forth but for the touch of their fingertips. Terrill didn’t need words.
“That’s all I need to hear.”
The rest became a blur. A blade of light that sundered the Shadow, and the sight of Terrill, Lumen and Charles, vanishing into the portal beyond, to their home. It left her standing there on the charred plains, the flecks of darkness a reminder of the battle just fought.
Krysta’s body convulsed, and with a grimace, she took a look at her arm, holding it up to the ashen sun. It was becoming translucent now, the crystal reflecting how much time was left for this vessel of hers. She sighed.
“Incompatible after all…”
“Then what will you do?” The voice pulled Krysta away, over to the darkened halls that made up the Abyssal Palace. The trees around it had been ripped apart, now settled in a deserted wasteland, but Krysta knew just which presence was speaking to her from the inside. Reaching to tie her blonde hair back, the woman caught glimpses of the Taro Downs and those Adversan souls that had survived the onslaught of the Shadow. There wasn’t long left for them. Wrinkling her nose, Krysta chose to pay an audience to the voice and walked for the interior of the Palace, not a single hesitation in her step this time. “Did your time in the Shadow change you?”
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She refused to answer, climbing the steps. There was no need to; of course, it had. It reminded her of their frailty…and of her futility. Golbrucht had broken free from the prison Eric North had helped to create, and though the blight had been removed from Adversa, he was not done. All of it culminated in the fact Terrill and the others were now in danger. Her feet finally staggered as she crossed over the threshold of the palace, her crystalline hand gripping to the dark stone. Very little feeling remained in it.
“My body is breaking apart…” she breathed. With her uncrystallized hand, she pulled herself up, taking her offending limb and holding it to her chest.
“The vessel is rejecting your soul,” the voice, deeper within the palace said to her. She straightened, and continued further. The pulses of the soul contained there echoed, like a hollow space that was occupied by what lay further within. She continued on, her footsteps echoing in that damned palace. “It is not human, and the more you have used your power, the more it is beginning to realize its incompatibility.”
“You think I don’t know that?!” she snapped with a sudden viciousness. The voice didn’t respond, but it had no need to. A few more turns and she was before the object of her conversation. “We all know how souls and vessels work. Golbrucht must have discovered the same, but he couldn’t tether himself to a pure human body as a Fiend.”
“Which is why he occupied that of a corporeal soul. He broke all the rules to get to this very point.” Krysta stopped walking, looking up to the dark crystal before her. At times it looked liquid, while others it was solid, an undulating mass of darkness. Some would have considered it foreboding, but compared to the terror of the Shadow that had just descended, it held a bright light to guide the way. No more was that true than the blurry form of the soul that strode out from its confines, looking to her with dull, tired eyes. “The question now, dear sister, is what you plan to do to stop him.”
“Sister…” came the scoff. Krysta fell back, her bottom hitting the cold floor. The soul reached for her, but its incorporeal nature caused her body to fall straight through the offered hand. “Why? Because we’ve been enshrined the same for a thousand years? Give me a break…”
“Yes, I don’t suppose we can be seen as the same anymore. You’re…different. Your time in the human world changed you. Awakened you to the true plight.”
Krysta pulled her knees towards her chest, her chin resting upon them while her eyes focused on a broken spot in the floor. For the first time, she started to recognize that despite the large crystal taking over the room, that space was still rather large. Her crystallized finger touched the floor, feeling small and insignificant…a rock cast in a river. Once more, she scoffed. “I had no control over occupying this vessel.”
“Yes, that much is obvious. We exist between Dimidia and Adversa through time immemorial. The only way to leave our vessels-”
“Is through destruction or the work of a soul-user.”
“Is it Golbrucht?” Once more, she did not answer. “Sister-”
“I’m not your sister!” Krysta stood, sharply, her fists balled while the soul before her recoiled. The images of Lumen and his counterpart, Atrum, settled uncomfortably in her eyes. “We are held together by nothing more than a tenuous ancient connection, one that is marching this world onward. But we are not related. I am not…”
Her body gave out, arms relaxing at her side with another sigh. What was she even doing here?
Krysta raised her arm once more and observed its slow decay into crystallization. “I don’t know why someone put me in this vessel, or who. All I know is that this vessel has taught me one thing: I am no longer deserving the name of light.”
“That is not true. You have worked harder than any of us to safeguard the Lifebloods.” She turned away, a twitch upon her lips. This time, the soul of the Lifeblood moved to confront her, ensuring they could continue the conversation instead of running away. Perhaps it was confronting her on what she had always done. “Did you not clash with the King?”
“And what else have I done?” As it had in the Shadow, Krysta’s voice grew dull and defeated, but it did nothing to alter the countenance of the soul that stood before her, awaiting her answer. “I lied to them, manipulated Terrill in an attempt to get him home. Then, when it was clear to me he would not, I aided him, betraying the Lifebloods.”
“We have all betrayed our natures, have we not? Two thousand years is a long time for any soul, and we have been around for all of it.” The Lifeblood’s words caused her to look up, staring into the man’s eyes, even as he flickered. He would have assuredly put his hand on her shoulder, if he had been able to. “Do not despair over your decisions. They were made for the best in each moment. Had you not made them, had we not abided by them, the Lifebloods and this world would be no more.”
“I know that!” Krysta wanted to turn away, but did not, this time imploring for help in the eyes of the one closest to her. “I know, but what path is there to take now? I cannot do this on my own. I do not have the strength for it. I could not stop Terrill, could not seal Golbrucht. What kind of path can I take that absolves me of what we did to him and to the world?!”
Silence followed her extreme demand, and she would have grabbed the soul, but the trembling of her body could not be overcome. He knew it all the same, his eyes visibly glazing over in spite of his state. “You let us rest.”
Krysta would have laughed to hide her shame, were it not for the pain she felt at such a request. Her hand formed a fist once more, this time making a cracking noise as the crystal strained with the body’s muscles. Her teeth clenched, turning her next words into a seething hiss. “Rest? Do we deserve rest?”
“I do not believe there is a choice,” he said. Now his eyes reflected his words, the exhaustion creeping in; that which caused the Lifeblood behind to wane. Krysta turned to it, watching the pulses that indicated a dearth of energy to the construct. It bolstered the request. “We are dying. The Shadow consumed much of what we have left. If any one of the two barriers falls…”
“Yes… Golbrucht’s plan will…” The Lifeblood pulsed, and though Krysta could no longer sense the Shadow within it, still she could feel the strings attached and the waning power. Yet her own was unaffected, a topic she did not bring up. “Golbrucht will stop at nothing to destroy the flow of souls, so long as it means breaking free. You think he plans to use you?”
“You know what the Fiends are made from, the process by which they are purified into their new forms. There is no doubt.”
“But is that the easy path or the correct one? For all our millennia of experience, even we do not have the correct-”
“There is only one path.”
The voice was as if she was submerged in freezing water in the middle of the desert. What skin remained uncrystallized rippled with goosebumps, every pore recognizing the voice despite the inability to identify it. It was one, somewhere in the deepest reaches of her memories, that she knew held a great grip upon herself and her fate. Worse yet was that all faded into white, eclipsing the Lifeblood of Darkness. She could not see the soul and her breath sped up, entering double-time at the hand upon her shoulder. The voice spoke in a whisper to her ear, paralyzing her. Her eyes widened.
“You know that you have seen the same thing. Humanity’s futile struggle, one which the King will exploit. Even now, they seek only to fulfill their prophecies, never truly knowing where they lead,” the voice said to her. Krysta’s limbs were locked and she wished to turn around and see the form of the one speaking to her in that brightness, but she could not discern the form of their soul. It frightened her all the more, and she began to know their purpose, deep down. “The only way to save them is to take your true form once again. Cast out the darkness, replace it with light.”
“Why…?” she managed to gasp out. The hand on her shoulder felt as though it was burning her. No, more than that, their light was burning her, a thing she never thought possible. “What are you…? A Fiend…?”
“You know who I am. The one who will set the path of fate aright. When your body breaks down, you will have to choose: fade into the world’s flow, leaving the world for the wicked King, or set your soul free and create your eternal container.”
“And play puppet?” she asked, finding a bit more moxie in her voice. The hand tightened and the clack of a staff echoed. Spots of darkness appeared in the bright lights, the Lifeblood attempting to get through this void, but failing. This was a space for light, and no one was allowed to intrude. Sweat began to drip down her neck, sliding off the crystal she could feel creeping up her back. “I…I will make my own choice.”
“There is no choice. You know this, my dear. I gave you form as fate willed it, all to preserve you, and it is I who own you. There is no other path forward but the one I have chosen for you. No future that fate cannot overtake. If you leave the King and his vessel to their game, they will rip the foundations apart. There will be no more cycle, and the future will descend into madness.
“The souls will go nowhere and this world will die.”
Krysta swallowed, the words compelling her to do as they would say, but her soul was crying out. She didn’t want this. She had promised Terrill to move forward. She wasn’t going to… Krysta shook her head, only for the hand to tighten. “You’re wrong. Fate is not so set in stone. Terrill has proven it. They’ve sent fate spinning off its course!”
“Do you think the Shadow enough to stop fate? This world is doomed to end, its very soul to die. Should the King rip it off its foundations, it will happen all the sooner.” The owner of the voice leaned in further, their lips now next to her ears, and she shivered. Her fingers twitched, hoping to create a blade of light with which to run this manipulative creature through, but she found she could not summon the strength. “But if you return to your form, you can ensure the continued cycle of souls, and give yet more time… For the true fate is far off. The Unification is not yet here…
“And if you do it, you can save them.”
Krysta screamed, finally manifesting her rapier and twirling, only for her blade to meet white smoke. There was a face, vanishing back into the darkness, but she could not identify it, only hear its taunts on the air.
“You must choose soon, O’ Absent One…Very soon…”
With the departure of the voice, came the return of the darkness, calming and cool. Krysta held her trembling body for but a moment before she fell to her knees, the blade dispersing from her hand. She did not look to see if her kindred soul had returned.
I’m not a puppet…and I won’t let them be consumed by this fate…
It was a mantra, one that got louder in her head. Her body refused to budge, still filled with that thought as more intruded on it. The regrets from the Shadow attempted to remind her of what she needed to do to atone, presenting Krysta with just two options forward. She tried to grab at the stone floor, but it only caused her skin to rip away, revealing more crystal beneath it.
Save the world.
Or save the ones she loved.
Return to what she was, or…
“Sister, what choice do you make? Will you permit the resting of souls?” His soul had returned, forcing her to make a decision, if in a softer way than the one who had claimed ownership. She shook her head, one of her hands gripping to her hardening chest. In spite of that, the overwhelming feelings of those she had come to love were lighting a path. “We are weak. You must decide.”
Choose… Krysta breathed out, a little louder this time as she recalled that moment Terrill reached out his hand to her. He had allowed her to choose. No…had made it clear they all needed to choose. Torry, Floyd, Walter, Lumen…
All of them had joined Terrill in making that choice.
No matter what perils lay ahead. No matter what fate the world had in store. No matter what Golbrucht and the Fiends had planned next, they jumped in, prepared to fight back.
Which meant she had no right to just lay down and take the easy way out.
Krysta began to stand, shaky at first, but drawing strength as her words rose. “I do not know the right path, though I know you cannot sustain this much longer. So long as the Fiends exist, they will try again and again. So long as Terrill exists, he will fight them.
“So long as fate exists, we are tethered to it.”
“What are you implying, sister?”
Krysta expelled a sigh, whipping around to face the soul, beginning to fade back into the Lifeblood, constrained by the dark strings she was all too familiar with. It didn’t take long before he disappeared completely inside the waning crystal. To that, Krysta stepped forward, placing a hand upon its surface.
“I cannot do it here, in Adversa, but there are things I must attend to,” she said, placing her forehead and laying it on the jagged edge of the Lifeblood. “I need to guide them, for this battle is now moving to the physical realm of Dimidia. Terrill, Lumen and Charles are back there, where they belong, and the process of the Blessed will have integrated Torry, Floyd and Walter. They will all be ready to fight the Fiends, and I have no right to not join them or put them on the path to confront and defeat Golbrucht once and for all. It will take far too much energy to get there, energy that I will need to recover before I can sever those strings.
“And I will sever them. All of them.”
Krysta breathed in, her body shining with the light she had been holding back. Veins of crystal could be felt traveling down her legs as her hand clenched, creating a portal around her body, one that worked only for her. Before she could vanish in it, her declaration rang loud about the Abyssal Palace, a symbol of the final act for the Fiends.
“I will sever the chains of fate myself.”
Krysta vanished, returning to Dimidia and the war for the world that was about to begin.