The Price of Power

2

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The sleek black car tore down rain-slicked streets, skimming over puddles and jarring through potholes, as if dodging common sense altogether. The storm had faded, leaving only drops trickling down from overhead branches, the aftermath of a wild night now silenced to a faint hiss of dampness.

“Mmphwhhavwhemmride!” came Noah’s muffled protest from the backseat, his fury reduced to a garbled mess beneath Envy’s tail. For anyone fluent in gibberish, it roughly translated to “What have you done? Where’s my Pride?”

From the trunk, a second, less articulate noise—perhaps closer to a plea for sanity—ended with a solid thunk as the vehicle swerved sharply right.

Eydis arched a brow, absently inspecting her nails with a distinct lack of concern. “Oh, that’s just David adjusting to the accommodations,” she murmured, tone as casual as if weekly recitals at St. Kevin’s chapel always included a hymn of muffled pleas and screeching tires.

With a casual snap of her fingers, the sound from the trunk quieted, likely as David reflected on his increasingly poor life choices that had led him here, as luggage.

As for David—or, rather, her latest borrowed identity—her mana training with Gluttony, also known as Cerberus, the three-headed creature of identity crises, was a test of its adaptability. Its true power lay in its ability to effortlessly shift between different appearances.

Reality, of course, had its own standards. While her little puppy could shape her into nearly anyone she imagined, or anything, really (which was how she had slipped by Astra last time), it wasn’t precise enough to fool City Hall’s AI scanners. Melissa’s favour would only carry her as far as the garden.

And, of course, proper method acting required… dietary adjustments. Cerberus took “you are what you eat” to a painfully, grotesquely literal level—emphasis on the painful.

Thankfully, a full-course feast wasn’t necessary. Who had the stomach capacity or, honestly, the stomach? A single lock of hair, a sliver of nail, the barest trace of essence would do. The less she consumed, the shorter the transformation. One hour at best.

Hearing Noah mumbled incomprehensibly in the back, Eydis rolled her eyes. Did she really have to knock him out? She needed him awake.

For now.

“That insufferable familiar of mine does have a taste for masquerading as Pride.” She glanced at the serpent coiled around him. “But on the bright side, Senator, you’ve acquired the most ancient form of a seatbelt. Brace yourself; we’re nearly there.”

The senator’s already ashen face grew paler as the serpent tightened. Envy’s voice slithered out in a silken hiss, amused at its own role. “An ancient seatbelt, am I, Your Majesty?”

“Safety first,” she quipped, her lips twitching as she recalled Cleo’s wide-eyed panic at her utter oblivion to the concept. “Though the puppy has a bit more versatility in the comfort department.”

The serpent hissed in irritation, tightening further. “A fine performance, Your Majesty. Watching you play the meek wine server…quite the revelation.”

Her laugh was light, almost conspiratorial. “Why thank you. I do find that the simplest costumes fool the greatest fools, don’t you agree? I imagine Noah would concur—if he weren't so... preoccupied."

Noah barely registered her words, clawing futilely at Envy’s metallic scales, which shifted with a sinuous life of their own, tightening with every scratch.

Her mind drifted, revisiting the opening act of this grand masquerade. She had seen through that wretched Sin’s seduction from the start—a twisted courtship spun from lies and double-crosses.

And the Blackwoods? Born for their parts, practically placed on the board, waiting to be moved.

Or so she’d theorised. The conversation she’d eavesdropped on between the brothers had confirmed it. Positioned on the upper floor, disguised as a fumbling wine server, she’d made sure a strategic spill excused her presence from Astra. She could sense it—two forces moving in flawless unison, smooth enough to evade even Astra’s sharpest suspicions.

As Noah played his part as the “devoted brother,” she almost couldn’t help but admire him, truly. It was a masterclass in deception. Yet, on the other hand, Athena’s investigation had unwittingly danced into the Sin’s hands, pushing the scheme ever closer to its conclusion: Thomas discarded, Noah left to ripen for darker manipulation.

Her gaze returned to the senator, struggling under the serpent’s grip, his jaw clenched as he mentally summoned Pride for what must have been the hundredth time. Eventually, his eyes drifted upward, catching sight of the faint sigil inscribed on the panoramic roof.

The realisation seeped onto his face, slow and unmistakable.

“Ah,” she mused. “Incredible, isn’t it, what one notices in a moment of… forced introspection? I imagine you’re wondering why Pride has gone silent?”

The car rolled to a stop, tires crunching softly over wet gravel as they settled into a field of lavender. The sky loomed low, bruised with storm clouds, stars barely daring to peek through.

Eydis stepped out first, a subtle smile playing on her lips as she turned to open the door for Noah. He remained motionless, trapped between the boundless darkness of the horizon and the emptiness he had woven around himself.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

“Beautiful, don’t you think?” Her voice was low and reflective as she watched the lavender bloom endlessly before her. “I used to hate this view, but now…” She released him from Envy’s grip. “Consider it as a moment of peace before the real conversation begins.”

“What’s your connection to Ares Van Nassau, you devil woman!” he spat between laboured breaths, his question coming out frantic.

Eydis tapped a finger to her lips. “Van Nassau?” she repeated, her tone laced with genuine confusion. “What on earth would I have to do with them?”

Noah's teeth ground together. "Drop the act. You tried to silence me to protect that precious, holy image of yours. But I see through it now, Van Nassau. You’re rotten to the core, manipulating minds to keep them in line. I don’t know how you suppressed Pride, but justice—”

“Suppressed Pride?” A low chuckle escaped her, dark and knowing. “Indeed, ‘Pride’ was sealed away the moment those desperate eyes rolled back.” Her gaze fixed on his. “You didn’t expect the little tablets you hoarded in your car to turn on you so… poetically, did you?”

“You..." His voice cracked. "You drugged me?"

“Careful with your accusations, Senator. They were your drugs, after all. I merely... expedited their use out of sheer curiosity.” She shook her head, a faint smile curving her lips. “Humans, across all realms, so willing to indulge in poison for a fleeting taste of pleasure. But don’t worry. You’re about to experience something far more exotic.”

Before he could respond, her hand lifted, a silent incantation slipping through her lips. Above, the sigil on the glass roof pulsed, shifting from sharp emerald to a deep, toxic violet, casting an eerie glow across his face.

“Just what—” Noah sputtered, but his words choked in his throat as a thick, rancid liquid materialised, forcing itself down his gullet. It was heavy, bitter, and foul—every lie he’d ever told, every betrayal he’d swallowed in his climb to power, condensed into one agonising flood.

His scream fractured, his body trembling, unable to contain the scorching force of malice. Eydis stepped back as he pitched forward, tumbling out of the car, darkness erupting from his mouth and splattering across the lavender fields like acid, corroding everything it touched.

“What… what is this filth?” he choked, his voice raw as thick shadows oozed from his lips, twisting into the air like every sin he’d tried to bury.

Well, technically…

“Oh, don’t recognise it?” Eydis plucked a sprig of lavender, raising it to her nose. “Repugnant, isn’t it? Not exactly Pride’s signature fragrance. More like… eau de sewage.”

Noah managed a sneer. “You think this parlor trick makes me some kind of monster?"

“Monster? Please." She rolled the lavender stem between her fingers. “I’m merely granting you the ‘power’ you’ve been so desperate to claim. Raw. Unrefined. Ravenous. That darkness has always been yours—just dressed up a little fancier as Pride.”

“Enough of your venomous riddles!” he roared, inky shadows spewing from his lips, lashing toward her like a storm of formless rage. “Don’t think your little mind games can fool me. The Van Nassau aren’t invincible.”

Eydis waved off the assault with a lazy flick of her wrist, as if brushing away a bit of dust. “Mind games? Right idea, wrong schemer. Tell me, Senator, when my former familiar approached you, what really drew you in? The promise of power?” She tilted her head, her gaze gleaming. “Or was it something more… pedestrian?”

She watched as her words hit their mark—a flicker of realisation crossed his face, cracking his composure for the briefest second.

“Is the irony too much for you? Trusting a Sin is about as wise as trusting a politician. A creature like you,” she pressed. “Did it dangle wealth, status, perhaps? Cloak it all in some noble purpose? Did you polish those lies until even you started to believe them?”

"Pride saw what others missed," Noah rasped, fingers curling into fists. "Not just ambition. Potential. The greatness I could achieve."

“Ambition dreams, Senator,” she countered, her gaze drifting toward the starless sky. “It aspires, it reaches—sometimes beyond the endless grey, if only for a moment. At least it dares. Can you say the same?”

“Dreams belong to children and fools," he spat. “And you—Van Nassau’s pampered child blessed with godlike power—dare lecture me? The Blackwoods built our legacy on sacrifice and bloodshed. The price is beyond your sheltered understanding.”

Eydis's expression softened with the terrible gentleness of an executioner. "Ah. When reason fails, we attack the messenger."

She traced an intricate pattern in the air, her fingers weaving two spirals, one reaching upward, the other collapsing inward, a black hole. “But you’re right about one thing: Greed doesn’t dream. It doesn’t aspire. It wants. And it devours. Ever more.”

His eyes burned. “Greed? Ridiculous! I am Senator Noah Blackwood. I don’t scavenge for scraps like my brother! I stand for my family’s legacy.”

She arched a brow. “Yes… that ‘legacy of sacrifice and bloodshed,’ as you so proudly put it. Funny, though. The bloodshed always seems to belong to others. The bones broken are never yours.” She saw him flinch and stepped closer. “But let's discuss their true design. Their grand plan."

Her words struck like dominoes, each toppling a piece of his carefully built self-image. “Go on,” he hissed, trying to mask the tremor in his voice. “Say your piece.”

Eydis drew out the moment, savouring it. “The Senate race,” she drawled. “Not so different from horse racing, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Don’t you dare compare something as sacred as a Senate race to horses!” he barked.

“Sacred?” she echoed with a laugh. “The betting odds shifted beautifully with each Smoke Monster revelation. Fortunes won and lost on the perfect champion. It’s no different in my realm, Senator—only accelerated by the internet. But the principle remains unchanged: pure profit.”

“And how does that have anything to do with—“ Noah stopped short as realisation dawned.

“You thought it noble?" She advanced, forcing him back until his spine collided with the car. "There is no grand design. Only chaos that feeds greed, draining wealth into a ravenous abyss.” Her gaze pinned him. “As I said: Pride and Greed wear such similar masks."

Noah stumbled into the seat, the horror in his eyes only deepening as her smirk widened, satisfaction blooming within her like a rich, dark fruit.

“And how much more can you consume?” she added, her eyes lifting slightly to the glass roof above them. “Deep down, you’ve always known which Sin whispers sweetest in your ear.”

A sound like the grinding of unoiled gears, dry and mechanical, echoed ominously. Noah turned his head slowly, his body stiff with fear, as the sigil on the glass roof flared once again, shadows twisting together into a vortex of darkness.

The reckoning descended upon him, the car shuddering violently. “It…it burns,” Noah choked out, darkness clawing at the edges of his vision, sinking deep into his bones, leaving him with the cold truth that his previous power had been nothing but a narcotic dream.

This… this was true power. Dark. Sinuous. Devastating. And through it, her voice drifted—soft, almost tender, a lullaby dipped in poison.

“The price of power, Senator… Have you ever even understood it? Or is that a lesson every Sin bearer must learn only at the very end? Don’t worry,” she whispered, her words a caress of finality as she turned away. “You’re about to find out.”

The shadows surged, consuming him from skin to soul, merging with the darkness within as it twisted and writhed, struggling for supremacy.

And in that moment, Noah ceased to exist, reduced to a final, fractured thought: power had never been enough, insubstantial as smoke, slipping through his fingers no matter how much tangible wealth he could amass.

In the end, he was nothing more than a pawn. A piece moved on a board he’d never truly seen, let alone controlled.

“How… dare… you…bind…us,” the thing that had been Noah growled, its voice a jagged discord of two voices merged into one.

Eydis turned lazily, her lips curling in a slow, taunting smile.

“Welcome back, Raven.”