The Price of Power

6 fin.

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“Maybe one day, when the rain finally falls, you’ll see things with a different perspective,” Archmage Gidion Swan had said.

Drip.

The soft patter of raindrops began once again. Eydis stood still, the sound pulling her mind backward.

Back to that moment, that conversation, that unreadable look in Gidion’s eyes. Was it happiness? Sadness? Hope? She hadn’t understood it then.

She wasn’t sure she understood it now.

“Why a raven?” she had asked. “Most would choose a dragon, something grander, to embody greed.”

Gidion had smiled thoughtfully, his pace unhurried as they walked side by side toward the library. “Some would claim there’s no hidden purpose,” he said, extending his hand. Violet mist seeped from the ruby on his ring, swirling and solidifying into the form of an onyx raven. Its sharp, intelligent eyes seemed to pierce straight through her.

The creature flapped its wings once, then perched on his shoulder, its talons gripping his robe as if it belonged there.

Gidion’s lips twitched into a wry smile as he regarded the bird. “I suppose I’ve always had a fondness for bird-watching.”

Eydis snorted softly, folding her arms as her golden eyes studied the raven. “They’re cunning. Wise. Not exactly traits I’d associate with a Sin as singularly selfish as… want.”

“Selfish…” he murmured under his breath. The raven mimicked him, cocking its head as if pondering the word. “Want isn’t just selfish. Greed waits. Greed schemes. My familiar is clever… perhaps too clever at times.”

Eydis’s eyes locked on the raven’s piercing stare. “Must be tricky to command a Sin like that.”

“It is… fascinating, in its own way. But yes, exhausting,” the archmage murmured, his voice lowering as the raven dissolved into mist.

“Now, Your Highness,” he turned slightly. “If Greed had been yours to command, what form would you have chosen?”

She arched an eyebrow. “Answering questions with questions now?"

His chuckle was warm, almost apologetic. “Call it flattery, if you like. I’m borrowing your technique.”

Eydis rolled her eyes but indulged him. “I’ve given it some thought. Though I suspect Envy wouldn’t be too thrilled with my answer.”

That caught his attention. He turned his head slightly. “Oh? And what would that be?”

“An ouroboros,” she whispered.

Gidion stopped mid-stride, forcing Eydis to halt abruptly to avoid colliding with him. The calmness he wore faltered for just a heartbeat.

“What is it?” she asked, frowning at his reaction. “Did I say something wrong?”

He blinked, his composure returning. But when he spoke, his voice was softer, less certain. “Not at all. Ouroboros… it’s just… unexpected.”

“And?”

A hint of sadness flickered in his eyes. “It seems, Your Highness,” he murmured, as though confessing a secret, “I have precious little left to teach you..."

Her cheeks flushed, much to her chagrin. She quickly redirected the conversation. “Now, stop avoiding the question. Why a raven?”

But before his answer could surface, the sound of Greed’s dual voices wrenched her back to the present.

“We are no RAVEN!”

The storm raged on. Lightning lit the sky. Eydis stood in the center of the sigil, her chin raised as Greed thrashed within the circle’s crumbling bounds.

“How adorable,” they continued, “you still think you’re in control. But we can taste it. Fear. You’re hesitating.”

The sigil’s light flickered, and the rain, now heavier, began to wash over the earth, threatening to blur the marking into nothing.

Time was slipping away.

“You’re right, Raven,” Eydis said, her voice steady, though the blood still dripped from her abdomen. “I cannot contain you.”

Greed snarled, their confusion evident, though it didn’t temper their arrogance. “Are you playing your foolish mortal games again? This will end badly for you.”

“Badly? You might be right again, Raven,” Eydis replied. “I’m not exactly looking forward to having your rotten essence slither into my mind. But I don’t have a choice, do I?”

Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

She never had a choice. Not the first time. Not now.

But this time… this time would be different.

“Rotten essence?” Greed roared. “Watch your tongue, mortal. Bind us now, and feel us devour you! Body and soul!”

Eydis tapped her chin thoughtfully, as though she hadn’t heard. “Devour, devour… Yes, yes. But you know what I’ve been thinking, Raven? Perhaps I’ve been too generous with your name.”

Greed hissed. “How dare a speck of dust like you would—“

Eydis cut in. “I’m now leaning toward…Rodent. Small. Conniving. Filthy. Yes, that fits rather well, don’t you think?”

Greed’s rage erupted, their dual voices booming. “Our name is—”

> “GREED!"

The name rang out, Eydis and Greed speaking in unison.

The ground quaked beneath her feet as the sigil ignited into a searing green blaze, cutting through the dark storm.

“What’s… this?” Greed’s voices cracked, their gaze darting downward. The chains surged with renewed energy, sinking deeper into Greed’s essence.

Eydis’s slow grin returned. “You weren’t the only one playing this game, Raven.” She let the word hang. “Greed,” she teased.

“This is not bindi—” Greed’s words cut off with a scream as the chains tightened further. Their body jerked violently as though something inside was clawing its way out.

“Oh, it sure is. You’ve underestimated the creativity of mortals,” she taunted. “Did you think I tricked you into completing the circle just for my amusement?”

Greed’s voices clashed, each word fracturing as their unity crumbled. “We… created… our… trap.”

“Correct,” Eydis whispered, her eyes darkening. “Curious, isn’t it, Raven?”

“Curious?”

“I’ve always wondered… do ravens mate for life? Or do they turn on each other when the resources run dry?” she asked. “Perhaps you’ll answer that for me.”

“You… You’re binding us—” they said.

“To each other,” Eydis interrupted coldly. “You are nothing without hunger, Raven. And now, you’ll turn that hunger inward. Because in the end, isn’t it greed that devours itself?”

Greed’s scream split the air, not with the commanding power it once carried, but with the raw agony of something caught in a trap it couldn’t escape. Their wings fluttered weakly, and the marks of the sigil spread across their form, branding them, burning them from the inside out.

“You’re trying to kill one of us?” Greed gasped. “How foolish, we can’t be kill, we are—“

“Eternal? You’ve said that before. But killing you?” Eydis echoed with a bitter laugh. “That would be mercy. And maybe…”

There should never be mercy.

The sigil pulsed with a violent surge. The essence of her familiar—no, familiars—was trapped now, entwined in a cycle of insatiable hunger, each vying to outlast the other. In their endless contest, something new would emerge—something that could understand want in a way no single being ever could.

Something that should never be allowed to exist.

Eydis raised her arms, her fingers curling as one of the chains binding Greed snapped taut. It rang through the air, before it coiled toward her.

She gripped it with both hands, feeling the torrent of Greed’s malice flow into her. It wasn’t just power. It was want, endless want, clawing and tearing at her from the inside out.

“One cage is enough,” she growled through gritted teeth. She twisted her hand, and the chain responded, vibrating with energy. “Cerberus!”

The air shifted as Cerberus emerged, its mist coiling around her hand protectively. Warm, violet light wrapped around her. Slowly, the torrent began to ease. Eydis released a breath she hadn’t realised she was holding. Essence trickled into the chain, feeding the cycle like water flowing through pipes.

Like… plumbing. Eydis chuckled softly. Touche. “Seems we’re all learning to adapt,” she said.

Greed’s anguished cries filled the storm. “What manner of torment is this? You vile, wretched creature!”

“Don’t we all love winning?” Eydis replied. “You will win. And you will lose. Over and over. Forever. Isn’t it fitting?” She closed her eyes briefly, shutting out the screeches that tore from Greed’s throat.

She could feel them now: Greed’s fragmented essence. Two minds, locked in an endless struggle, each desperate to dominate the other. Binding them as separate entities would have been a death sentence, not for them, but for her.

Instead, she had shattered them from within, forcing them into a shared existence. A punishment so cruel, it became its own unbreakable sentence.

An eternal, inescapable paradox.

The sigil flared one final time, blazing bright before its light vanished.

They were hers now. Both of them. Greed—forever starved, endlessly devouring itself—a perfect ouroboros, a cycle with no end. Yet she would call them Raven.

Just because...

Rain lashed against her, soaking through tattered clothes, plastering her hair to her face. She lay motionless, her eyes fluttering shut. Thunder clapped in the distance, and the droplets traced down her face, blending with the blood and dirt.

Exhaustion took over, her mind slipping between moments of clarity and the pull of unconsciousness. And then, faintly, as if rising from the deepest corners of her mind, Gidion’s voice reached her.

His... answer.

“Ravens… aren’t they beautiful, intelligent creatures?” he had once said. “One of the few animals that truly mate for life. Their love is eternal.”

“Eternal? I find it hard to believe,” she’d scoffed. “Did you ever really believe that?”

“I’d like to hope,” he had replied. “And maybe, one day, you’ll see it too. A love that can survive the test.”

“But isn’t there only one Greed? One Raven?” she’d challenged. “I still don’t understand the point.”

Gidion’s gaze had shifted, the playful ease vanishing from his features. He’d lowered his head, his deep brown eyes locking onto hers.

“I hadn’t anticipated this, Your Highness. That one day you’d ask all the right questions. That one day we would…” he swallowed the unspoken words. “It seems I wasn’t wrong about you.”

“Can you try for a straightforward answer, just once?” she’d muttered, frustrated.

“Straightforward?” His chuckle had been light. “What’s the word… utterly boring, Your Highness?”

Her eyes narrowed. Twice now, he’d turned her own words against her.

The teasing grin vanished, giving way to a more somber expression. “Your Highness…” His voice softened, and he hesitated, as though weighing each word. “I’m sure you’ll know what to do. When the time comes.”

When... the time comes?

Her eyes snapped open. ‘What did you mean by that?’

Know... what to do?

Ravens. A pair. Mated for life. Eternally bound… eternally…

Trapped.

“Had this always meant to happen?” she mumbled, her eyes widening in disbelief. “The creation of another Greed? For what purpose?”

Had she been meant to bind them this way all along?

The sounds of soft footsteps crunching against damp grass jolted her from her thoughts. Instinctively, she pushed herself upright, her breath hitching as she met a gaze that froze her in place.

It couldn’t be…

Eyes like blood. Like rubies. Like roses in full bloom.

Like Astra’s.

The rain streaked down her face. Her lavender dress clung to her frame, darkened by the storm, yet she seemed unbothered, untouched by the cold or the weight of the rain.

And in her hands, twin diamond blades gleamed, rainwater pooling at their sharp tips.

Drip.