punished them.”
Dyletri’s dual-colored eyes had darkened.
“What happened while I was imprisoned?” Zeniel stared at all the men below, relieved when no visions came at him. No sins. No roars.
“There was a war, Zeniel.”
He turned sharply and was met with the furious scowl on Dyletri’s face.
“A war?”
“The Aviraji, as they are now known, turned on the rest of us. The very ones who had you imprisoned decided that all of us—including the humans—should be punished as well.”
“I deserved what was done to me,” Zeniel reminded him calmly.
“What you did was not your fault. You had a sensitivity—a justified one considering the universe is full of shit. You should have been helped, not tortured for five hundred years.”
That’s how long had passed since he’d been imprisoned?
“And I, for one,” Dyletri continued, “would have loved to have had you on the battlefield against the Aviraji on that day. With what they had just done, you would have ripped them all apart in one second.”
“And any allies, as well,” Zeniel said. “I was helped. I am much different now.”
Dyletri studied Zeniel. “You still resemble the God I knew before your sensitivity took over. Except your eyes, those are different. They used to be red and black.”
“What color are they now?”
“Blue and gray.”
Zeniel liked that. He liked that a lot.
“Humanity is just starting to rebuild. You can settle amongst these men while you get accustomed to your new powers.”
Zeniel turned back to stare at the village below. “You said that they are living lives to appease the gods. Who is their main god?”
“You are. Or, you will be.”
Had the male before him gone mad?
“I am a god no longer.”
“That is not true. You are getting new powers. You feel it. I feel it. And Nylicia has already seen what you will become.”
That was the name of the female that had visited him in his cell. He remembered pieces of his conversation with her, but not all of it. One of the things she had told him had been of extreme importance. He felt it in his chest, felt the pressure growing by the second.
Why couldn’t he remember what she had told him? Why did he feel as if there was something he needed to be doing, but he didn’t know what? Protect . . .
“What will I become?”
“God of Tranquility. You wanted the opposite of what you were. Well, you got it, my friend.”
He had to admit, he really liked that part. “Is it even possible?”
“You have awoken with few memories of yourself, and battling back your old powers with the new ones emerging. I would say that it has already happened.”
Did he want to be a god again? Of any sort? That word whispered through him, reminding him of what was important. Why it was important that he not return to being Mavrak.
Protect.
His gut hallowed out, the cramp painful enough to make him grunt. He felt so empty suddenly, as if something was missing. Something he needed desperately to find.
“Fine. Introduce me to these humans and let us get this started.”
“This part hurts the most,” was the first thing that Eve heard.
Then came the exemplification of that statement.
She realized she was awake, aware, and with lightning fast immediacy, her mind sucked her back into the dream she’d had, the one with Zeniel and Dyletri.
But it wasn’t a dream. Oh Gods, no.
Reliving what she had seen made her desperate to have Zen near, to be able to touch him.
“Help,” she cried out in a tiny voice, unable to move due to the ache slicing her body.
“Evesse, breathe.”
Impossible. Yearning hit her body, kicking her in the gut. Her body arched. Everything hurt, her skin hurt, her heart hurt.
“Please . . . make it . . . away . . .”
“We need to find Zeniel.”
“He’s fallen off the grid. Even my own. For some damned reason, he isn’t meant to be here.”
Eve inhaled with a broken sob. Logically speaking, she knew her reaction was more
Dyletri’s dual-colored eyes had darkened.
“What happened while I was imprisoned?” Zeniel stared at all the men below, relieved when no visions came at him. No sins. No roars.
“There was a war, Zeniel.”
He turned sharply and was met with the furious scowl on Dyletri’s face.
“A war?”
“The Aviraji, as they are now known, turned on the rest of us. The very ones who had you imprisoned decided that all of us—including the humans—should be punished as well.”
“I deserved what was done to me,” Zeniel reminded him calmly.
“What you did was not your fault. You had a sensitivity—a justified one considering the universe is full of shit. You should have been helped, not tortured for five hundred years.”
That’s how long had passed since he’d been imprisoned?
“And I, for one,” Dyletri continued, “would have loved to have had you on the battlefield against the Aviraji on that day. With what they had just done, you would have ripped them all apart in one second.”
“And any allies, as well,” Zeniel said. “I was helped. I am much different now.”
Dyletri studied Zeniel. “You still resemble the God I knew before your sensitivity took over. Except your eyes, those are different. They used to be red and black.”
“What color are they now?”
“Blue and gray.”
Zeniel liked that. He liked that a lot.
“Humanity is just starting to rebuild. You can settle amongst these men while you get accustomed to your new powers.”
Zeniel turned back to stare at the village below. “You said that they are living lives to appease the gods. Who is their main god?”
“You are. Or, you will be.”
Had the male before him gone mad?
“I am a god no longer.”
“That is not true. You are getting new powers. You feel it. I feel it. And Nylicia has already seen what you will become.”
That was the name of the female that had visited him in his cell. He remembered pieces of his conversation with her, but not all of it. One of the things she had told him had been of extreme importance. He felt it in his chest, felt the pressure growing by the second.
Why couldn’t he remember what she had told him? Why did he feel as if there was something he needed to be doing, but he didn’t know what? Protect . . .
“What will I become?”
“God of Tranquility. You wanted the opposite of what you were. Well, you got it, my friend.”
He had to admit, he really liked that part. “Is it even possible?”
“You have awoken with few memories of yourself, and battling back your old powers with the new ones emerging. I would say that it has already happened.”
Did he want to be a god again? Of any sort? That word whispered through him, reminding him of what was important. Why it was important that he not return to being Mavrak.
Protect.
His gut hallowed out, the cramp painful enough to make him grunt. He felt so empty suddenly, as if something was missing. Something he needed desperately to find.
“Fine. Introduce me to these humans and let us get this started.”
“This part hurts the most,” was the first thing that Eve heard.
Then came the exemplification of that statement.
She realized she was awake, aware, and with lightning fast immediacy, her mind sucked her back into the dream she’d had, the one with Zeniel and Dyletri.
But it wasn’t a dream. Oh Gods, no.
Reliving what she had seen made her desperate to have Zen near, to be able to touch him.
“Help,” she cried out in a tiny voice, unable to move due to the ache slicing her body.
“Evesse, breathe.”
Impossible. Yearning hit her body, kicking her in the gut. Her body arched. Everything hurt, her skin hurt, her heart hurt.
“Please . . . make it . . . away . . .”
“We need to find Zeniel.”
“He’s fallen off the grid. Even my own. For some damned reason, he isn’t meant to be here.”
Eve inhaled with a broken sob. Logically speaking, she knew her reaction was more
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