Her muscles groaned as the spear vibrated. Tension ran through her body, ate through her perception and seemed to rob her of what little strength she had carried in her body before. She felt the tremor in her legs, under her soles, and the marble drew its first cracks.

Stones beaded from the ceiling as the king jumped up and yelled something indistinctly. Salia couldn’t hear it, couldn’t understand it, remained trapped somewhere in the feeling of cotton wool that lulled her. It no longer mattered who had anything to say. The guards trembled at their sides, the king ran away, and the sound of bursting rock pressed into the newly formed cracks.

With both hands, Salia clutched the spear and listened. Eyes fixed on the ceiling, she waited for something to happen, for the world around her to disappear – but it was a far cry from what she was really being offered.

Distant static rattled across her perception. Almost as if thousands of boulders were making a distant journey into a low valley. In the next breath, the ceiling above her ripped away.

Smaller slabs broke, crashing to the ground and smashing the marble to pieces. The largest chunks, however, were carried away, drifting with a wave that threatened to lay over the castle like an avalanche. The water crashed down, crushing the columns and taking paintings with it. Only the spot where Salia stood remained dry.

Wetness spilled over the edges of some steps, engulfing them and dragging them down to tear holes in the walls and drop off into no-man’s-land further back. In between, people. Guards who tried to hold on but found no foothold. Men drowning beneath the waves. Corpses that hadn’t survived the first impact of this force of nature.

The water took the side walls of the castle, eating away at the splendour and bringing the open sky to the fore. Instantly, Salia glanced over her shoulder.

Her heart hammered against her ribs.

Her mouth was parched.

The sea had spread. It arched under a missing storm, slapping facades and pavements that couldn’t withstand the force. Screams filled the alleys, the water, the air. They all tried to escape and yet drowned barely a breath later.

Stuffed animals floated away, clothes and belongings that no one but ordinary people had possessed. The little girl who had scared them off earlier was probably already dead. So were all the corrupted guards who had ever laid hands on the demons.

Her vision slid over the radiance of her power under bright sunshine. A glow that shimmered blue, drenched itself in red and made Salia lower her spear. Attention lingered on the puddles amidst the sea, tiny specks that had crushed and squeezed bodies, draining the life from them. All at once, blood mingled with the devouring mass that listened solely to her commands and yet didn’t stop hunting the humans. Not even when her grip on the spear loosened.

Her body feasted on the freedom, on the fact that there was no one out there who could still harm her. She no longer had to be afraid, no longer had to keep her eyes open and hope that people wouldn’t find her.

Simultaneously, every free breath robbed her of some of the joy that leapt up and down inside her. The haste of her heart remained, but the throbbing grew painful and the sweat on her skin made the clothes sticky. Itches spread. Her breathing became heavier. Exhaustion was a long way off and yet Salia thought her eyes just fell shut as the next building collapsed deafeningly and the quake sent renewed ripples across the water, which had already reached the second floor of most of the buildings.

The waves seemed to calm down, and yet they didn’t let up. They rose like tentacles of a sea monster she had never seen before and smashed what was in the way.

Salia, meanwhile, immersed herself in blackness.

Behind her eyelids, there was a different peace. One in which it wasn’t so loud; in which the screams didn’t exist and in which she no longer had to struggle for something that was suddenly within her grasp and yet wasn’t what she had hoped for.

Would it not have been better if the king had simply surrendered? If they had simply accepted her, all this would never have happened.

Probably.

Emptiness settled on her shoulders like a shroud. No more palpitations. No desire. No dreams. Nothing.

What remained was the small flame that had so laboriously nourished her before. A hatred that had driven her and drowned beneath the waves. It was now only a faint light. A burning ember that grew darker with every breath.

Until there was nothing left.

So she opened her eyes.

The world before her wrapped itself in wasteland. Stones slapped the water. The screams had died away. Hasty shouts still echoed in the background and yet Couvia had surrendered to her hatred. Rage that had been extinguished along with the people of this city.

Aywotoc slipped from her fingers, thundered to the floor, rang in her ears and yet only made Salia slump her shoulders. The image before her should have made her laugh. Joy towards the dominion she had gained all by herself. Instead, silence lurked in her guts. The same crushing silence that Couvia exuded in those seconds.

The destruction had passed. The waves were ebbing. No one cared anymore about what had happened – no one was left.

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Slowly, Salia lowered her gaze to her thin hands. The unconscious tremor reached to her fingertips and the heaviness in her chest constricted her throat all at once.

Was this what she had wanted?

The cotton wool that had usually bedded her, that had kept her mind off the thoughts and steered her in a different direction, was gone. Almost as if the voice in her head had lost all its power along with the hatred. What remained were doubts. Questions. An infinite number of things she couldn’t answer.

She would have to conquer much more for the others. All the other kingdoms had to fall to bring freedom with them.

But then what?

The sigh on her lips remained icy as she wrapped her arms around her gaunt torso. They would have to build it all over again. She and the demons who lived in Aywotoc. Without the others.

Her lips pressed tighter together.

Destroying Couvia in this way, washing it clean and everything else away, had not only silenced the humans. The demons, her people, all those who had suffered as she had, were silent too. Their lungs had filled with water no less than Salias had. Except no one was helping them. They didn’t get a second chance. No one broke through the surface of the water and complained to her because she could have solved all this differently.

There was no one left to complain.

That which she had wanted to protect had fallen victim to her hatred. They had drowned in the waves with the people they had feared all their lives.

In the end, she hadn’t been able to save anyone.

Her dull fingers dug into the thin flesh of her upper arms. The water made the world silent and, in the same breath, as empty as what was inside. The loneliness seemed to be pierced only by the chirping of isolated birds – small creatures who had heard only the bare minimum of all this. The flood didn’t affect them. What Salia had done was of no importance. Not for all those who had the land at their feet. Nothing changed for them.

It made her swallow. That one thought was exactly what she had just let go all this time. But it was true. Nothing would change. If she destroyed all the other kingdoms, there would be nothing left. It was the easiest way. But she would have done nothing about the hate. Nothing against the fear. They had all died, humans and demons alike, with the problems of this world in their hearts. Salia had simply poured a bucket over flames, unaware that the wood, the base, could no longer be used.

Those damned mermaids had been right.

They had been smarter than that.

And Vix, too, had grasped the circumstances that only slowly dawned on Salia. The narrative of what had happened and what she had done slowly found a foothold in the understanding she had been pushing away all this time. Vix’s way hadn’t been the right way. She could have done more than hide. And yet she had proved an adult, perfectly correct lesson.

Hate wasn’t the answer. Neither to violence nor to fear. Not even to another’s mistakes. Hate needed to be stifled, endowed with goodness and confidence, even when the clouds seemed gloomy and hope sluggish. She should have done the work of a saint. Instead, she had thought of herself as a necessary evil. A monster that sometimes forgot that it was also a human being. Just like everyone else who had lived within these walls.

A fortress that now lay fallow because her stupidity had broken through. A city that had fallen because she had taken what wasn’t hers – solely to get what she wanted. What she deserved.

Without further ado, Salia pulled back her nose and averted her gaze. Not looking would make it more bearable. But the spot she was standing on, that small area that had taken no damage, served as a reminder. As a laughable performance of her actions when she spotted a summer yellow dress.

The fabric had caught at one corner and the princess, this unknown girl who had sworn to her they were alike, was floating lifelessly inside. Her face was the only one Salia could see. And though it should have been otherwise, there was a smile on the princess’s lips. Benevolent, as if she had already forgiven all that had happened. The fringe at the end of her dress reached to her knees. It had probably caught more than once, revealing flawless pale skin adorned with scales.

Salia’s eyes widened. The woman’s words suddenly took on a different light. She had tried to hide just like everyone else, only in a better environment. Maybe one day she could have made a difference – with her smile and the kindness she had already shown in the throne room.

Only slowly did Salia’s trembling hand rise to her mouth. The change that the country had so desperately needed, that she had believed she had to take care of, had probably never been in her hands. She had simply been given a second chance and instead of taking it, instead of living it, she had listened to revenge.

But without the hatred, without all that had filled her, all that remained was futility. She had drowned the glow of Couvia’s light, had torn down its walls and enjoyed it for a moment – like a small child who realised too late that not all gifts were precious.

“It was you, wasn’t it?” Salia’s feet kicked the spear slightly to the side as she staggered to the lifeless body of the unknown princess. “You were the light we were looking for, weren’t you?” She put a hand to the woman’s pale cheek. “Not me... Never me...”

Carefully, she bent down to slide her hands under the body of the dead woman. Then, with what little strength she could muster, she pulled the princess to her on the marble floor. Salia bedded the fiery red hair in her bony lap long before the first drops beaded on the stranger’s cheeks.

The sobs in Salia’s lungs rasped as she swallowed. Her fingers clawed at the dress. “I was so upset... It was so unfair. They killed us and suddenly I didn’t have to die. They gave me everything... All of it. And I thought I had to do something.” She pulled the stranger’s torso closer. “I was so ... angry. So blind. And so proud because I finally had value in life. Me ... a demon. Me, who thought she would have to spend a life in fear.”

It was probably what Vix had seen and what had stopped Mireille from attacking the country. Vix had realised in her past that change was no longer in her hands. She had brought destruction greater than what Salia had mustered and then had awoken from the absurd dream of a superhero. Mireille, however, had witnessed the devastation and even if her hatred had not faded, the memories had held her back. Deep inside, she had come to understand Vix over the years.

But Salia hadn’t had years. It had been days. Few days that could be counted on one hand. There had been no time to see behind the façade. Not for her.

“I was just trying to help...” The sob rasped more domineeringly in her throat. “But maybe ... it would be better if I weren’t here any longer.”

She didn’t need to ask. Aywotoc knew what she desired. It knew what she craved in those seconds, and it didn’t hold back as the waves rose again, slowly lapping at the marble. The water reared up, metres high, even out of reach. It fenced Salia in for a moment before the wetness came crashing down on her. The sides slammed together over her. Her grip tightened on the princess’s dress.

Water filled her lungs. Her breathing stopped. The weight pressed her down and pushed her firmly against the stranger’s torso. It was as if Aywotoc was taking its toll. As if she were being devoured for failing in her task. And maybe that was a good thing. Perhaps only in death did one find the peace one needed to gain a clear picture of things. It was the only gift to which she could smile.

But it was only a warning. The next breath filled her lungs, just as it had once done when she was executed. Drowning was no longer an enemy of her life. It was only a vague reminder that it was a warning to all those who were above the will of death.

And yet failed to understand the meaning behind it.