Marc shoved Ava back. She hit the ground so hard a bone popped out of place in her shoulder and popped back when she turned over. She wheezed in and in, spots blotted her sight. They teleported, but to where?
Breathe… Just breathe…
Dry grass poked between her fingers, dirt smudged her palms. The bones in her wrist healed, cracking and fitting back into place. Her whole body trembled in pain. Ava gently touched the tender skin around her neck.
Breathe…
Hot tears rolled off Ava’s cheeks. Oh, god. It hurt just to touch it. Marc completely crushed her windpipe. With each second, it took forever to deflate, healing at a pace that felt like centuries of waiting. Once it was no longer swollen, she took a deep breath.
Breathe in…
Stomach acid rose up her throat. Ava turned over and coughed and coughed until blood dribbled from her mouth and onto the grass.
A symbol glowed beneath the spot where the blood fell, growing brighter as it soaked into the earth and swallowed it whole. Ripples flashed across the grass in all directions. They crashed like waves into a circle, unveiling an invisible wall and the soft mellow wheat of the UFE’s crop fields nearby. Is this a protective barrier? Wait… no, that's not right.
As Ava cradled her throat, Marc stood not far behind. Both hands rested on the top of each sword. His gaze was sharp like a hawk. Rage burned deep inside her.
She jumped up and lunged at his face. Instantly, her fist hit the wall, breaking each bone in her knuckles from the impact. She screamed, raw and hoarse and nothing like her voice. Her throat burned from the pain.
Ava cradled her hand to her chest. Ripples exploded and moved in a current around her, up the walls and showed the tree height of a dome. This was the only thing separating them from a deadly fight. Just fucking great.
Anger drove her mad. With her hand barely healed, Ava slapped the wall in a fit of rage. He stared. She glared right back.
When it felt like her throat finally healed, Ava let it all go, along with all the fear and tears she’d been holding back. “Why—Why are you doing this?”
He said, “Do you remember the story of the boy who lost everything? Of course you do. The false version won over your heart, but the truth is so much worse:
As the tale goes, the boy’s parents plotted against the royal crown. They murdered their siblings, and in turn were beheaded for their crimes. But the tale never said that someone helped them. That a god gave them the power they needed to kill their own.”
Marc dazed at his palm. “The boy lost his family that day, he became an orphan and was pushed out of the only home he knew. He lost his friends, his way of life. He was isolated, a thing of gossip. Some feared him, most watched him, waiting for him to snap. You’d think his other family would help him, but that’s not true. No, the boy’s grandparents weren’t there for him. His cousins ignored him. They all abandoned him!
He was utterly alone… until the god gave him a new purpose in life. He worked hard to be a perfect prince for her, he trained every day and was happy again. Yet after everything she has done for him… the boy still can’t forgive the god for what she did.”
He closed his fist. “You were just another disappointment.”
This was all just for revenge? But how did Ava fit into this?
Ava slapped the wall. “Then why am I trapped inside this damn barrier? I thought you were going to kill me!”
“That’s exactly what I’m doing.”
She stepped back. Her heel caught on a piece of grass and fell on her butt. When she looked down, a clear piece of fabric covered the ground. Finally she understood what he meant. This was a spell. Black ink scribbled throughout the inner circle with symbols and characters repeating at random. She didn’t recognize them, except for two, and these two words she knew by heart: Avalyn Concerto.
The smudge of ink by his eye… I should’ve known.
This was it. This was how Ava would die. And all because she trusted Marc. Because she lost sight of what was important. Because of her stupid decisions. She grabbed her head. Nothing would fix this. No, this isn't my fault. This is his fault.
There was a sigh, his annoying sigh as he crouched to her level. Tears ran off her cheeks. He reached out as if habit drove him to brush them away. When his fingers bumped into the barrier, confusion slipped through his cold exterior.
“Did you ever love me?” Ava whispered.
Marc looked away. “All I’ve ever wanted is to end my suffering. For ten whole years I played the part of the charming prince. Acted like I hated this power,” he raised his cursed arm high over the bright sun, “when it’s the best thing that ever happened to me.”
Her whole body trembled. Was everything just a lie then?
“And yet, it’s still not enough.” He dragged a rough hand through his hair.
The truth hurt worse than she ever imagined. Ava trusted Marc full heartedly, and in return, he betrayed her. This was not her fault. She didn’t push him to kill her. She didn’t force his hand. He chose to kill her. He chose this path of destruction. It would’ve been easier to accept her fate if she never once loved him.
“You're just like your parents,” she snapped.
It triggered him. He narrowed his eyes and spat, “I am nothing like them!”
“Then prove it. Let me out of here,” she pleaded. “You can stop th—”
An explosion rang across the skyline.
Through the distant clouds, Primordial Warships hovered in reflective camouflage. Smoke and fire engulfed the Capitol city. Flames burned the clock tower, the barrier flickered until it evaporated away. They weren’t far from the battlefield.
There was a chance someone could find them out there. Everyone should know by now Ava was missing. They should be searching for her. Overcome with new hope, Ava summoned the Bō. It appeared and hit the barrier wall and fell to the grass outside in a pile with other objects—the emergency supplies that should be in her pockets.
“No one will find you here. I’ll make sure of that.” Marc threw six kunai one on all sides of the spell’s barrier. They embedded in the dirt, each one had a piece of paper knotting the ends like origami paper. Each one written in perfect script for invisibility.
Soft waves rose around them until they came to a full circle at the top and covered the entire barrier. Outside was hazing, like watching a morning fog, peaceful and eerie.
Oh, god.
Don't give up now.
Breathe in... Breathe out…
She needed to get it together, at least for a short while to figure things out. Ava surveyed the barrier, catching glints of rainbows on the surface as wind blew by. She couldn't feel it, though, which meant he had her securely trapped inside. But there had to be a way out. No matter if it was a curse or not, a spell always had a loophole.
Ava tapped the ground, it was hard and made of glass. She rubbed at it, tried smearing the characters, but they stayed perfectly stained like their perfect writer. Curse him and this stupid spell!
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Undeterred, she went for the walls and smoothed her palms over the curving surface. There had to be a way out. Ava found one on Zephyrus' ship, she’d find one here.
“You're wasting your time,” Marc said, following her steps from outside. “This spell is unbreakable once activated. Nothing can stop it from running its course—not even me.”
She refused to let his words sway her. There could still be a weak point.
As Ava continued searching, irritation grew in his voice. “This spell was designed to kill a Doku.” She faltered at his words. “It was created to sentence those to an eternal damnation for their crimes against the universe.” When she met his gaze, a smug smile curled on his lip. “I'd say you don't deserve this, but is that really true?”
“Fuck you.”
“Your upbringing wasn't easy. You were raised by a terrorist and trained by a ruthless commander. You are a natural born killer and you haven't disappointed dear old Gregori yet.” He unsheathed his sword. “It’s better to nip you in the bud before you turn into another monster that can’t be stopped.”
In quick movements, he hit the barrier with the blade. Vibrations echoed across her palms. He dragged the sharp edge across the wall. A high pitch screech pierced her eardrums.
The noise came from beneath her feet. She tried everything in her power to block it out: covered her ears, used her arms, used her knees—nothing stopped the nauseating sound.
The screeching halted.
Silence gave her a moment's breath.
Pulsating shocks erupted beneath her boots. She stumbled back into the dome. The symbols shape-shifted, forming different characters, until they abruptly stopped.
This can't be it. This can't be how it ends.
Blood ran off her palms, down her sleeves. And just as she got her breathing back under control, a loud horn blasted through the dome and suffocated her further. It turned her body weak, her brain to jelly. She fell to her knees.
Marc stopped pacing to watch. "Your energy is draining, in case you're wondering. And once it's all drained, it'll take your life force until it's completely gone, too."
With nothing to throw up, Ava heaved in and out dry air as tears rolled down her cheeks. She couldn’t think. She could barely see.
“I know it hurts, but you've been through much worse. Haven't you, Avalyn?” He hit the blade against the wall like a bat, sending another shrill through her body. “By doing this, I'm helping the progress go faster. You won't have to suffer for much longer, although I don't know how it'll be on the other side. It may be worse than this.”
“You're sick,” Ava gasped.
Marc tapped the wall, repeatedly. Loud drums punctured Ava’s head like rocks were being thrown. Now she knew what a fish felt like trapped in a fishbowl.
“I really should thank the god of wisdom for sending me this spell,” he said.
Zephyrus? Zephyrus! Marc was the mole this whole time! Her body shook in rage. Ava didn’t care about the gods’ disputes, Mika with his revenge and Darious with his big mouth. But when they threatened her planet, when they tried to kill her off, she cared. Oh, she cared a whole lot.
Things just got personal.
The symbols lit beneath her knees. She staggered to her feet and desperately pounded on the wall, but it was unbreakable. No matter how many times she kicked it, no crack or seam broke through—nothing defeated it.
This can't be the end.
I refuse to accept it.
“If you keep that up, you'll die in a matter of minutes,” he said. “I thought you were trying to break free.”
Ava continued pounding at the wall.
Marc sheathed his sword and picked up the Bō. He dragged it across the wall, taunting her. The noise was revolting, suffocating, screeching metal against metal. It felt like knives were stabbing into her brain. She couldn't hold it in any longer.
Clenching her stomach, Ava heaved a mixture of red and black blood onto the floor, forming puddles on the symbols. They slowly sucked down the concoction, and vanished within each line. Ava felt instant relief, but it didn’t make her feel any better. She grew fearful about what would come next.
Marc tossed the Bō into the field, the long grass hid it well. “It's better if you give in and accept your fate. At least so you can go peacefully. Isn't that what you've always wanted?”
But not from him.
Ava crawled to the center of the spell, away from Marc. It was the only place she could escape. Even that small movement took a lot out of her. Her body grew weaker.
Pulses waved through the circle. She groaned as her mind went hazy, as the energy drained from her body. It reminded her of Marc, the time he placed the curse mark on her. When she gave him complete control over her. How could I be so stupid?
Just breathing took all her energy, and she was only laying down. She needed to conserve and wait for help. The sun set behind the hills and trees. Beautiful and breathtaking, the reds warmed her heart and burnt orange reminded her of Junipea. She didn’t mind this being the last image she’d ever see, and yet, Mika’s face popped up at a time like this.
Talk about regrets. Ava never should’ve pushed him away in the beginning. She wished to go back and be friends early on. If she did, then maybe they’d have more happy memories, more laughter—just more everything.
Instead, they fought and fought until she found herself all alone.
Her thoughts grew wary. It was hard to see. Her vision blurred in and out. This was it. It was really happening. She’d be gone from this world soon.
I'm afraid.
I feel so cold and alone.
And I still refuse to give up.
Ava never got to say goodbye to Gio or her mom. She couldn't let this spell take her. She couldn't let this be the end. She needed to see them. She needed to give them a warm hug, tell them she’d always love them.
I refuse to die.
This is not my time.
I WILL NOT DIE!
“Finally, you come around. I thought I’d have to listen to your melodrama until the end of time. I was about to plug my ears.”
His voice was so close, yet so far away. He wrapped fear around her heart. She cracked open her eyes. There, the Reaper stood outside the wall, staring at her with the same demonic eyes—the expression of death.
Fifteen minutes. This meant Ava had fifteen minutes left.
The Reaper strolled through the barrier and stood by her face. “This is quite the predicament you found yourself in. Unfortunately for me, I can't help your soul rest. I'm only here to witness your timely death.”
Her eyes traced the long black lining of his suit pants to his dark tie. She wasn’t afraid to look him in the eyes as hate fueled her judgment. “Make me a contract.”
A large smile, teeth and all, spread across his ghostly cheeks. His leather gloves smoothed out his fitted blazer, then crouched to meet her gaze. Ava drew back a deep gasp, inhaling nothing as he had no scent.
“And for what reason should I?” he said.
She opened her mouth to speak and coughed up more blood. It was too much. She had to speak through her thoughts, You need my help. You need my abilities as a Doku because that race is the one who created the gods. Am I right?
“But that doesn't tell me what your heart wants.” His eyes bore deep into Ava’s.
A dark, raspy chuckle seeped through her cracked lips. You don't have to scare me into it. I'll gladly tell you.
As if a gust of energy surged through her hands, Ava yanked him closer by the tie and sneered, “I will kill Marc. I will kill Zephyrus. And if any god stands in my way, then I'll kill them, too. Is that enough reason for you? Or do you want me to show you again how easily I can choke you with my bare hands!”
The Reaper cocked his head to the side. Locks of dark, floating hair brushed her hand. They were cool to the touch, like raindrops and a morning fog. And as he leaned closer, she found a black panama hat with a starry band and hair that flowed around it, like they were both part of the universe and the universe was a part of him.
“I always knew you were a devious one.”
A cough ruptured her throat, further weakening her soul. She laid back and kept a steady gaze on him, her weakness wouldn’t sway her. If I do this, I have two conditions: No matter what, no harm will come to my family.
He rolled his hand. “And the second?”
I'll do anything you want. As a Doku and human, I'll be in debt to you, but only for ten years of my life and no longer.
He smiled a giant, unsettling grin. “You think your life is worth only ten years?”
Ava gave him her best signature smirk. I think whatever you want me to do I can finish in ten years and maybe even half that. Think of the rest as a bonus.
“To be negotiating with you on your deathbed is simply riveting.” There were twinkles in his eyes when he chuckled. He seemed to love being part of her demise.
Marc hit the wall from outside and caught their attention. “Ava! Are you talking to that reaper?” Marc yelled. “Don't trust him. Never trust a reaper!”
“Yet, look where your trust got me,” Ava hissed.
She may have dug her own grave for the future, but until then, she’d live a life without regrets. She’d live the life she wanted to for so long, no matter how short it was.
The Reaper stared deep into Ava’s gaze, pulled at her soul in the back of her brain. “You have yourself a deal. But remember, ten years is ten years, no matter where you are or what planet you're on. I will count exactly ten Earth years.”
His hand caressed the air above her head, never physically touching, only calling out a part of her as she grew wary and bleak.
“I only need you, Avalyn,” he whispered, then disappeared with a blink.
Her head dropped as the spell continued sucking her dry. She placed all her trust in that reaper, which was a strange feeling. She never imagined it would come to this.
“What did you do?” Marc smacked the wall. “Ava! What did you do!”
He kept pounding on it as if she’d answer him out of annoyance. Instead, she watched the sunset and prayed to the stars that she made the right decision.