Souls Absorbed: 88

A singularity of forgotten gods now dwelt in Ashera’s skull. Power filled her body, flooding her body with the familiar sensation of magic. She guided it through her, from her eye into her mind, then down her neck into her heart. Along the way it rewrote her mana circuits, the structure of her soul-body that allowed her to wield the excess will of her spiritual source.

It felt like she was gargling lava.

Heat came from excess power, rampant mana that refused to circulate according to her will. It was made from gods, why should a sublime creation bow to the will of a mortal girl? Ashera ignored its voice, there was nothing sublime about failure, these gods were dead.

Do not mingle your failure with my vengeance. We are going to kill a succubus.

The orb scoffed at her, reversing the flow of power back into itself. She felt the energy retract. Her vision faded as the dead gods retracted their power.

No no no no NO!

Ashera refused to see her vengeance disappear, her soul reached into her eye socket and grasped the essence of Olympus.

Where do you think you are going? We are done when I say so.

You speak of failure as if you have achieved anything. Where is your family? Where are your friends or followers? We persist while you are a corpse.

Their backtalk triggered her memories, painful recollections she thrust into the orb’s throat. Gods or essence, they would come to know her suffering. She recalled the weeks leading up to her death, the love she held for Tristan, the laughter she shared with Lorelai. The orb resisted her emotions, sensing the trap in her joy. Pain could only bring you low if your natural state of being was above it, so they resisted her joy. Fought against the thoughts of Aleyander and her hopes for him.

The orb tried to recall her death, fighting her visions with a picture of her on the cross. A single snapshot against the torrent of her memories. It echoed the words of Lorelai’s betrayal again and again. Stabbing them into Ashera’s soul like the heart shattering weapons they had been. They bore down on her, dislodging her soul and draggin it towards the orb, if they could absorb her soul then the crucified body would belong to them, her body would be theirs to command and she would just be one more soul inlaid onto the oblivion of forgotten Hades. The shadow of gods began to savor their victory, cackling as they dragged her soul into contact with the orb. Her mind connected to theirs, a soul to soul contact that stripped their egos and laid their ids bare.

You gods are so cute, if my soul wasn’t already shattered you might have had a chance.

They screamed, a thousand souls begging for release as Ashera pierced them with shards of her soul. Her love for Tristan was now an onyx blade, one that pierced Nyx’s intelligence. Ashera grasped the shards of her sisterhood and lacerated Deimos, chasing Phobos into the darkest depths of the orb. Where the gods should have been strongest. Yet, none had suffered as fresh a betrayal as she had, none had loved as deeply as she had. The human souls within the orb began to shift in her favor, the sixty one souls who had followed her into Ellin Forest bent to her will once they saw the truth of Lorelai’s corruption. Her admission of guilt played within the orb, turning the tide against the deities. Eighteen unknown souls joined them, slain humans lost to Ellin.

Forgotten once more the deities waned, consciousness fading as Ashera’s determination sundered their power from them. It slammed into Ashera’s corpse, empowering it and continuing the process of unification. Other souls resisted her mission but soon her purpose overrode their transient wills, guiding their powers and adding them to her own. All the while Ellin Forest drained them both.

Days and nights passed as Ashera became the shark, devouring one fleeting soul after another. Each of her teeth was a memory of pain, or betrayal that sliced through the scales of hardened hearts until none remained.

So what if you were forgotten, join me and our wrath will be immortal.

Dead souls flocked to her new purpose. Their lives were gone, but through their new wielder they could act. Darkness claimed Ashera, conquering her mind as the orb integrated with her soul.

We will make Lorelai Geruvah feel the sorrow of Ashera. We will take our vengeance.

—

A pale figure stood in front of Ashera’s cross. One hand on a jewel encrusted hilt of his sword and the other on his angular jawline. He shifted his sword hand, retrieving a silver coin to roll across his knuckles. There he stood, like the statue that should have been, instead of the odious thing Ashera was nailed to.

Eight hours passed with the pale stranger standing in front of Ashera. Rows of half eaten corpses lined the bone village, a graveyard to match. The sun rose high above the forest yet the stranger did not move, he was an immortal, unafflicted by the trivialities of warmth or cold or time. He could wait for Ashera’s soul to mollify the implanted curse.

Eventually, Ashera became aware of his presence. The black orb that served as her only eye focusing on the pale figure.

“Just look at this mess. I can’t leave you alone for a single lifetime without everyone dying!”

Ashera raised her head, her once rotten muscles trembling. It would take more magic than she had to mend her corpse into a functioning husk, magic regenerated over time, but the blackwood blight drained magic just as quickly. Heal her body or save her strength and escape the cross, those were her two paths, and only one led to Lorelai.

Come to taunt me? Ashera thought, knowing the pale man could hear her.

His jaw clenched. “Do you remember our covenant? The three things I can never abide.”

Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

She answered his question by recalling the day he found her.

We would be what the other needed, you would give me the family I lost, and my line would worship you. As for the three things, they are angels, demons, and whatever thing annoyed you last.

One corner of his mouth twisted upward into a lopsided grin. “Angels, demons, and malice.” Without a word he stepped forward and yanked the nails out of Ashera, withdrawing when she crumpled in a heap on the itchy grass of Ellin Forest. He kept on walking, fully intending to leave the forest.

Loki… Why didn’t you save me?

The pale man slowed. Half turning to meet Ashera’s empty eye sockets. One black sphere stared into his soul, the shadow of an abyss. Leaning back he placed both hands behind his head.

“You served me well for thirteen years, why did you turn your back on me two years ago?”

Two years ago…? Oh… The answer did not need to be stated, Lorelai had fallen two years ago, she had poisoned the well of their covenant so thoroughly, so totally, that even now when god and disciple met face to face they could not heal the chasm. No words could bridge the gap, no actions could resurrect the fallen.

“You’re dead. Along with my seventy seven hopes. Without your covenant I cannot endure the tides of Hell and must withdraw. I will never again walk the shores of Oathinao.” Loki said, running his fingers through his black hair.

I’m sorry.

Ashera knew she had broken their covenant. Lorelai’s machinations had ensured every promise was broken, every component twisted, and every soul that should have supported Loki could not.

How bad is it?

Loki shrugged. “It’s no big deal, I’ll just head to Jaflin and start a gambling cult. The Seraphim have a hundred lineages there, if nothing else I’ll be protected. Ha, even their king is a Seraphim, and Valerian lives there, he owes me a few favors I intend on cashing in.”

Ashera hung her head, pondering the term ‘no big deal’ when it was anything but. Loki had fallen, he was an immortal but his divinity had been stripped from him by the same whoring cunt that had robbed Ashera. Sensing her thoughts Loki spoke.

“Divinity cannot be so easily lost. But my powers…” He shrugged, a false grin on his face “Are as potent as a field mouse, or maybe a frog who has been trapped in a chamberpot.”

If Ashera’s body functioned, she would have let out a strangled laugh, then wept for her impotent savior. As she was the cold animus of undeath guided her.

Come with me. Help me kill her.

Loki did not hesitate. “No. I will not lose myself to wrath as my brothers did. Ashera, my Lady of Luck, please listen to me, I do not harbor any ill will for you. Geruvah is mightier than myself, in my golden age I might have parried her malice, but now?...” He shook his head slowly.

“Do not let your sorrow condemn you. No matter how far you fall there will always be a road back for you. Come with me, forget about Geruvah–”

NO! How could you even ask me that? I’ll never forget that whore. Loki! Look at me! I’m dead. My family is in a fucking pickle jar or in her bed! Jude is gone! Ephraim is…

What had Lorelai said about Ephraim? ‘Leave him behind’ and ‘let Ashera find him when she gets off the cross’...

“Ashera, do not seek him out, let me shield you from that suffering at least. Geruvah hid you from me. Now that she is gone I know you were tricked and not apostate. Two years of broken oaths, let me apologize for my weakness. Do not reopen old wounds. Forgiveness can often be the most excruciating road, but it will lead you to joy instead of sorrow.”

She struggled to rise, her pelvis may have been bolted together, but her hips were loosely connected and her feet popped with each step. A reminder of how badly the crucifixion had damaged her limbs.

Walk alongside me one last time. Ashera implored, extending one hand to Loki, the other pushing against the cross.

He rolled the silver coin across his knuckles and caught the coin between his index and thumb, raising it to cover half his face. Ashera tried to smile, her undead face spasming. She would have drooled but all her spit had long since dried. Attempting to hide her face she raised her fingerless hand to cover her mouth, immediately regretting her action.

“If it’s any consolation… When I see what they did to you, a part of me wishes I were a god of justice like my brother Thor, or our father.” Loki whispered.

If Ellin Forest had been a normal forest, his words would have been drowned out by chirping birds and humming insects, but it wasn’t, and his words found their way through the soulless land to Ashera.

Flip the coin before I die of old age.

Loki flicked the coin, sending it twenty feet above them. “Heads and I remain true to myself. Tails and I forsake my divinity to join you.”

They watched the coin sumersault through the air, holding their breath –not that a god or undead actually needed to breathe– as the coin landed.

Heads.

Ashera’s heart fell, Loki was the god of mischief and luck, games of chance were his forte, the bread for his mischievous butter.

“Hmm I am bound by my nature, but maybe I can aid the lady of luck even if I do not accompany her.”

Loki snatched the coin and chucked it into the air, higher than before.

“Heads and I will aid my lady of luck from afar. Tails and I cut my losses.”

The orb in her skull focused on Loki’s hand, ignoring the toss as it identified the blue energy shooting from his palm. Magic was a blatant manipulation of the roll that made Ashera’s mouth tug upwards. He was trying to alter the toss, trying to guarantee a heads up. Loki may have been bound by celestial laws, but bending the rules to fit his domain was a favored past-time.

The coin landed in a patch of brown grass.

Tails.

Loki cocked his head at the disobedient coin. Ashera bit her lower lip, fighting back a smile.

Looks like you are running out of luck. You sure about opening up a gambling hall?

“Oh hush.” Grumbled Loki, retrieving the coin and hurling it into the air.

“Heads and I – I, uh…”

Heads and you go to Jaflin. Tails and you name the gambling hall after me.

He snorted, covering his face with both hands. “Leave or leave. That’s not even a wager!”

The coin flew high enough to slap one of the rare sparrows of Ellin Forest, sending the sparrow plummeting into a nest of mistletoe. Redirected by the hapless avian the coin careened out of control, bouncing off the nearest bone hut –the one everyone had died in– to land on the statue of Ashera. Somehow managing to wedge itself between her wooden cleavage.

“Oh what the fuck.” Shouted Loki.

Throwing his hands up he stomped towards the statue, hoping the coin was tilted one way or the other. Meanwhile Ashera was left feeling deeply conflicted, wanting to laugh at the absurdity of Loki’s fortune but reminded of what Lorelai had taken, what Balorian was pickling.

“Knock it off. I can hear your memories…” Loki chided. After a moment he added “Watching them once was enough for me.” In an almost inaudible whisper. One that Ashera wasn’t sure if it was meant for her to hear. She scanned the world, seeking some distraction for her to latch onto and only finding Loki staring at the unfortunate statue. His face was meer inches from the coin.

See something you like?

“Eugh.” Loki said, gagging at the thought.

“Morning or night, I have enough wood. Thanks for the concern.” Loki said, a smile crossing his face.

A moment passed in silence, his face falling into a pool of severity. “Hey, lady of luck. When you finish your business here, come see me in Jaflin.”

Ashera nodded her head. It’s a promise, although you might have to lend me a few nickels to rub together.

They both knew the promise would never be kept, that fact didn’t matter to either of them, one little white lie between family. Their only concern was to lessen the other’s sorrow. Loki extracted the coin, pinching it so a hole formed at its center, silver wire appeared and pierced the coin.

“A band of moonlight for the winner of my gambling hall’s first coin toss. This one’s on the house.”

Ashera couldn’t help but grin stupidly as he slipped the necklace over her head. Loki’s jovian nature always seemed to infect her. She stepped around him to retrieve the coin, ripping it out of the statue.

Hey Loki, Thank you- She tried to say.

But Loki was already gone. Not even a waft of smoke remained in his place.

Relief flooded Ashera’s mind, Loki was no fighter, he was not a god of thunderbolts or hammers, but he was finally safe.

I’ll be the one to kill her.

Then we’ll meet in Jaflin.

An omniscience smiled down on the wrathful undead, laughing at the irony of her statement. Maybe in an eon my daughter of woe, but first, come meet me in Baphomet’s Ruin. You can’t kill Geruvah alone.