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Part 6

She had to keep telling herself that, no matter what, she shouldn’t look back. She didn’t know how, exactly, but she could perfectly imagine what it looked like.

After all, if it looked like hell was crumbling in front of her—with all its bodies and blood—would behind her be any better?

Nebli’s attempts to free herself got weaker over time, though that didn’t make anything necessarily easier. Mernia still had to fight with their surroundings—a place that kept changing to ensure that she couldn’t leave.

There were two main areas she seemed to swap between, almost at each step she took. The first was a grand, sprawling temple, with stained glass and paintings depicting scenes out of place even in nightmares. They were of the gryphons standing triumphantly over the mutilated bodies of those similarly-dressed humans from before; of the Fallen One, overseeing a world worse than the one she was currently in. The other area was the field from before, except it seemed to only get worse—after a while, every time it switched there, she had to be careful not to trip over the bodies. Any time she thought she might’ve seen someone familiar, she quickly told herself she was wrong. In both, she forced herself to only look forward. Even that was hard, frankly, but it kept her from being dragged down by what was around her.

“Why do you keep running?” a voice, composed of those she knew and some she didn’t, whispered. It had been saying that for some time now, but it was the first time that Nebli wasn’t crying louder than it.

It wasn’t the only voice, either. Some of them were made up of many voices, those she found familiar and a few that she’d never heard before. Others seemed to belong to the Fallen One, Caeso, or Simros—those echoed through every corner and seemed more distant, still speaking of matters in the past.

“Children are very strange things,” mumbled the voice of the Fallen One. “You give them everything they could ever hope for; a home, a family, a purpose… and yet, when it comes time for them to repay you, they fight back. If they were worthy of these gifts once, they are no more. There’s only one thing a parent must do, no matter how hard, to a child who refuses to listen.”

Even quieter than the voices, Nebli cried, “I don’t want to leave yet. I don’t want to be a bad girl.”

“You’re not a bad girl,” Mernia tried telling her, in case it would help her snap out of whatever trance she was in. “Your parents are going to be glad to see you.”

Nebli broke down into tears. “But Father will give me the punishment I deserve!”

More voices rang through the space, louder each time, while Mernia was thinking of a different way to reassure her.

“What are you doing?” It was the voice belonging to Simros, mortified at whatever he must’ve been seeing.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“I’m following the orders of our master, of course,” was Caeso’s simple answer. “He will need a vessel when he returns, after all, given what you have done to him. I’ll make sure that, when the time arrives, he is able to fulfill his desires for this realm.

“Why are you doing this? You killed her, Caeso. I thought that when you swore to protect these people, you had meant it.”

A cold, chilling laugh. “Well, it’s simple, Simros. I, too, know what it feels to live in the shadow of older brothers. Perhaps this way, both of us will have our desires fulfilled. Our master will get the admiration of his far-away brothers, showing that he is just as capable as they are. Then, with you gone, I will stand beside our master… as if I was the only son he ever truly had.”

“Caeso, this is foolish! You’re putting more on the line than you know!”

“Am I? So then, what are you willing to do to stop me?”

Silence.

“Look, Nebli,” Mernia began before she could be interrupted again, “I’m not going to let anything hurt you. Okay? You’re going to be alright, as soon as we both get out of here.”

Nebli mumbled, “I want to go home.”

“And I’m going to—”

“You’re not taking me home. You’re running away from it. Home is where my Father is, with —. One day, he’s going to make our world perfect, just like this one. You’ll be sorry that you ran then. Everyone will, repenting when it’s already too late for them.” Nebli’s voice got quieter, though she kept repeating those words, over and over. Given the fact she wasn’t fighting or crying anymore, it was practically the only hope Mernia had that she’d be alright when they left.

Yet the fact remained that Mernia had no idea where she was going.

She didn’t want to, but… she had to try to make sense of this place. It was the only thing that she could think of that might give them a chance of leaving it. This was the kind of chaos she didn’t want to understand.

She just had to hope it’ll be worth it.

Honestly, she didn’t trust any sort of sense of direction she might’ve had. The landscapes didn’t seem to care; each flash was either in areas too close or too far away for the distance she covered between them. She had to pay attention to other signs.

There was a lot of not-blood in the temple, nearly bleeding out of every corner of stained glass by now. In the fields, there was human blood. She hadn’t encountered any of the not-blood until after she’d first heard the Fallen One’s voice. It was what showed Simros’s betrayal. The human blood didn’t mix with it.

They weren’t related to each other.

Mustering some form of confidence, Mernia ran with intention. When it was the temple, she followed whichever path led away from the not-blood. While it showed the fields, she went to where the most bodies were gathered—where there was more human blood.

“You’re really trying, aren’t you?” That was the voice of the Fallen One, more than an echo of the past.

She ignored it. Even though Nebli started crying again—louder, sobbing, “Repentance is impossible for the ones that run!”—Mernia felt that she was close. She had to be.

But she was forced to stop as soon as she saw the Fallen One in front of her, gathering what resembled tendrils of shadow around himself.

“Do you remember what I said about playing nice?”