EMRYS

EMRYS HAD BEEN WOKEN up many ways over the years, but having his nipples twisted was brand new. The yelp he released was much sharper than any noise he'd made before; his eyes shot open to find red ones staring back with great amusement.

Mystia's laugh was quickly followed by her fingers ruffling his hair. "Wake up, you lazy bastard."

Weakness ravaged Emrys' bones, begging him to stay on the ground, where he must have blacked out after passing through the Barrier. If it hadn't been for Bobbi's screams lingering in his memory, he might have lain there forever, wishing to be among the stars he stared at.

Forcing himself to sit up, the ashen remains of his wings coated his palms. He dusted them off on his pants before cupping his head in his hands. A lingering headache built pressure deep within his skull.

"Earth is... different," said Mystia.

"You're telling me."

Emrys lifted his head. Mystia investigated the sky, crouched to watch the same stars with a curious gaze. She pinched blades of dry grass between her fingers until they crumbled, their remnants carried away in the nippy midnight wind. With day and night cycles reversed between worlds, and the inky sky looming overhead, it was as if they had never left their Corrupted home.

"This world is nothing but a shell." Mystia turned to him, brows knitted tightly together. "I know Earth was meant as a prison for exiled Others, but... my gods. This is worse than I thought. What causes a land teeming with life to feel so dead?"

"Humans."

Ones without magic, anyway. Instead of using their ability to connect with the world around them, or learn to respect its resources, they stole from the Earth and destroyed it for their own selfish needs.

Not that Emrys could blame them. Since losing most of his own magic, he saw how easily one could take advantage of resources for a taste of power. After a reborn lifetime of using magic for everything, forced restraint was the worst detox imaginable. He couldn't fathom what it must have been like for the Astraelans who had been sentenced to their new prison, helpless in a greedy world.

It was no wonder they had forced an uprising against the Blessed eons before. Jealousy was a beast far greater than any physical monster.

When Mystia's face softened to an understanding expression, Emrys realized he'd let his thoughts wander too long. Before she could attempt consoling him yet again, he stood. Or tried to. Even coming to his knees was a struggle. By the time Mystia offered a hand, he took it gratefully and allowed her to help him to his feet.

Thankfully, she changed the subject. "Where's the girl?"

"It looked like Bobbi was still in the cabin, but gods only know what that thing might've done to her."

"Can you track her?"

Emrys nodded. Even before closing his eyes, he could feel his Runestone's pulse in the distance, thrumming weakly enough to notice. The direction pointed toward the expanse of woods he'd buried Lard in hardly two weeks prior, not far from where Bobbi's cabin resided.

It would take a solid hour to travel by car, but with wings...

"Don't even think about it."

"We can argue about this all night," said Emrys, "but flying is our only option right now. We don't have time for a Sunday stroll."

"And how do you suggest doing this without exhausting yourself?"

He nodded to the satchel slung across her torso. Mystia gripped the leather strap with narrowed eyes.

"Come on, Myst." Emrys held out a hand. "I know you have it."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Emrys didn't even have to think of the object. It was no secret that she kept an arsenal with her at all times, especially Reviving Breath: a potion kept in great stock for any necromancers passing through the Sanctum. Tossing back a shot not only rejuvenated magic, but breathed enough life into a creature's body to retrieve them from the brink of death. In most cases, it lasted enough time to get them back to the Sanctum for healing. Emrys couldn't begin to count the endless lives one potion had saved.

"Are you out of your damn mind?" she asked. "You know how unpredictable it can be."

"Unless you want me passing out mid-air, fork it over."

Mystia rolled her eyes and unbuttoned the satchel's main flap. "In case you've forgotten, my potions rarely work on you." She reached into the bag, rifling through its carefully organized interior. "Simple tonics aren't meant for the immortal."

"Except in mass quantities."

Mystia gave him a stern glare while she pulled a large vial from her bag. Filled with navy blue liquid, the potion gave off a dim sheen, with white shimmers dancing like stars in an endless evening sky.

Emrys reached for the bottle.

"The side effects are bad enough for the trivial amount others consume," she said as he took the bottle and promptly uncorked the top. "I'm not talking about a few little hives here."

"Could be exciting."

Emrys brought the bottle to his lips and chugged. The curdled liquid tasted of sulfur and licorice, and as he forced it down his throat, he struggled to fend off his gag reflex.

"This can cause abdominal cramps, insatiable hunger, temporary blindness..." Mystia rattled off side effects like the humans on the horrible midnight commercials Emrys had suffered through. "Uncontrollable explosive diarrhea, venomous piss, toenail disintegration—"

The vial was almost empty. He could make it.

"—spontaneous rupture of the testicles—"

Splatters of navy blue spewed from his lips, dribbling from his mouth with each cough and gag.

"Why didn't you tell me that?" he asked, wiping away the spittle.

"You're the one who started guzzling like a dehydrated fish."

Emrys stared at the bottle with remorse before passing it back to her.

"Well?" Mystia stepped closer, watching him with mischievous delight. "Are we taking flight, or are you going to stand there and regret the rest of your life decisions?"

Emrys grumbled under his breath while she stepped in front of him, holding her arms out from her sides. Warmth greeted his body, seeping into his muscles with a soothing touch. The potion was clearly beginning to work, but hesitancy of the unknown made him stare down at his crotch.

"Relax, fire child." Mystia laughed. "Last time, it took three hours in a sea nymph orgy for Doriyn's golden acorns to burst. Unless you have midnight plans I don't know about."

Emrys ignored her and wrapped his arms around her waist. His wings slipped through his shirt smoothly and effortlessly, without the familiar drain he'd come to expect. Finding renewed strength in his bones, he pushed off the ground to propel both of them into the sky.

The thick potion sloshed in his stomach at their lift-off as if the liquid was alive. He found himself too afraid to voice the concern.

Mystia turned just enough for him to see her smirk. "Don't worry about it."

That didn't make him feel better.

Emrys pushed his wings to their limit, zipping over the landscape at such a speed that he heard nothing but the wind rushing past his eardrums. The longer tufts of hair that Mystia hadn't been able to trim slapped his eyes in rapid succession.

For the first time in ages, his body didn't fight against him for taking flight. It felt freeing. It felt right.

Even his arms, which often grew weary when flying with company, felt as strong as if he held nothing at all. While Mystia weighed little to nothing, he knew the potion must've been working miracles on his body. He never wanted its effects to wear off. In that moment, he found himself thankful for Mystia to be his passenger—someone so used to flying with him that she basked in the sharp breeze, only shifting occasionally to find a more comfortable position in his arms.

The exhilarating flight felt far too short when they arrived over the wooded expanse that housed the local campgrounds. Barren branches snagged Emrys' lounge pants while he soared above the treetops, allowing his Runestone's pulse to be their guide.

Eventually, he spotted plumes of smoke not far in the distance, curling up from the treetops as though it had been awaiting their arrival. He came to a slow stop and hovered in place to survey the area.

Mystia leaned back, forehead grazing his chin. "That wasn't there before."

He lowered them to the ground gently, careful that his wings made little noise as they rustled against the branches. Their feet hit the grass with nary a sound. Mystia stepped away from his hold, flipping her wind-blown hair from her face.

"Don't hold me so tight next time." She jabbed an elbow into his side. "All that excitement may cause a reaction."

Emrys trudged toward the cabin with her playful footsteps pattering behind. A curious glance over his shoulder revealed her to be watching the woods with the same excitement brightening her eyes that she got over Edenberry's grandest festivals.

"You know we're walking into a trap, right?"

Mystia licked her stubby fangs with anticipation. "Haven't had that kind of fun in ages."

Before long, they reached the small cabin nestled within a grove of maple and pine trees. It was secluded from the campground's more crowded areas, but even then, the silence that fell over the woods was too quiet. Unnatural. Even the breeze refused to ruffle their hair.

Emrys put a hand on the cabin door and turned to Mystia, who nodded curtly for him to continue. With strength he forgot he once had, he kicked the door in. It flew from its hinges, splintering wood in all directions as it slammed to the floor four feet away. But the expected clatter never came.

Instead, the door met the ground with a sickly squelch.

Corruption coated the floorboards, the walls, and every visible surface. Though his vision had improved exceptionally from the potion he'd consumed, it was nearly impossible to see more than a few feet in front of him, as if the shadows had solidified into impenetrable walls.

Emrys flicked his wrist to conjure a flame in his palm. Orange light danced across the darkness but provided little visibility. Still, he relished the full use of his fire and the warmth it provided. It was more than enough reason to keep his flame lit, despite the concern in Mystia's eyes.

Stay back.

Mystia stepped away. Heat radiated from Emrys' feet, and the air distorted around his tattered high-tops. Flames sputtered from his soles, crafted to withstand his blaze. When he stepped forward, hellfire took hold of the Dark matter in a controlled burn that incinerated the sludge before his feet touched the ground.

Guilt gripped his heart in a vice. The one-room cabin had been a second home to Eva and Bobbi. It was their favorite escape and, like everything else in their lives, had been demolished by forces they had nothing to do with. It sickened him.

It wasn't long before he noticed a wriggling mass at the center of the back wall. The closer he drew, the thicker the glop became, until he was forced to slow his strides to ensure he had safely burned its remains.

When he removed his eyes from the ground once again, his steps came to a halt. It was not just any bulge on the wall; it was a cocoon, strapped by thousands of Dark webs—and, at the very center, a woman writhed in futile attempts at escape. Her eyes and unkempt mahogany curls were her only visible features, but Emrys knew her eyes anywhere, wide and pleading for help.

Bobbi. 

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