Nerisity opened her eyes to a world of shadows and swirling wind as she fell down, down, down into an abyss that gave no ground.

  She looked around in her fall, seeing the twinkling of stars peppered in the vast void around her, far into the distance of the nothing she inhabited.

  She flailed her arms in a panic, feeling the disorientation from being transported into this… unnatural place.

  She felt the air rushing past her, her hair flailing with her clothes as she descended.

  The air was cold and harsh. It bit into her body and into her soul. Though not completely, for her strength had returned. No longer did she feel the exhaustion of her body upon the grassy field outside the slave pit, she felt rejuvenated.

  What is this place? How did I end up here?

  A glint of silver light caught her attention. It came from below her. She looked down and saw in the distance, rushing up to meet her descent, a metal platform.

  A glinting, polished, long and narrow platform. It shone against the dark, emitted a source of unnatural silvery light from within. As she neared it within the last couple hundred metres of falling, she recognised the platform with surprise. It was none other than Arcos's sword, though an enlarged version that could hold a couple of people like a theatre stage or a large dais.

  In a moment of panic, Nerisity feared that she would fall upon the edge of the blade and be split in half. But her descent slowed to a feather fall within the last fifty metres and she soon landed gently feet first on the flat of the blade.

  She was careful to keep her footing for fear of falling down into the nothingness that seemed to coax her with a sinister temptation. She did not dare to look down there.

  So instead, Nerisity got her bearings and walked slowly along the sword, from tip to hilt. The silver sword glowed upon each of her footfalls and hummed gently with a thrumming power that Nerisity was all too familiar with.

  “Hello?” She called out. “Boras? Reeva? Tilda, Torrance? Anyone?” There was no answer. And there was no echo. There was no sound. The wind that whipped at her had no noise either. It was a vacuum within the void she stood in. She was utterly alone.

  A glow of light flared behind her as she neared the hilt. She turned and witnessed a small orb of light, with silver smoke coming off it, float before her.

  Nerisity was hesitant. But seeing as there was nothing else she could do, she reached out with her left hand and touched the orb.

  She jerked back her hand with a cry of pain. She looked at her index finger that touched the light; the entire digit was completely frost-bitten. Blackened and dead to feeling. She could not even flex it. She glared at the light now with a degree of caution.

  The light orb floated with a silence intent that she had no knowledge of. Then the orb shook. It shook and shivered and vibrated.

  Nerisity stepped back, fearing something explosive or worse.

  A hand shot out of the orb, five digits and a palm, followed by a wrist, forearm, elbow, and a bicep, and then a shoulder. Soon, a humanoid body emerged from the light, stepping neatly on the air until resting barefoot on the steel. The cobweb-like robes hung from the shoulders of the tall being, their face obscured by light, mist, and dust.

  They proffered a hand to Nerisity with a small bow. And Nerisity instantly knew who this was.

  “You.” She uttered to the form of Alaintiqam.

  Yes. Alaintiqam replied calmly.

  “Where am I? What did you do?”

  Nothing. Alaintiqam swept a slow hand towards the darkness. Even their ethereal moonlight did little to cut through the blackness. This is Arcos's soul. Dark, isn’t it?

  “His— his soul?” Nerisity looked at the void of nothingness with an awestruck horror. “Why is it so… empty?”

  It is normal like this. It is not just him. All mortals, when they are so young like he, have such states of being. The soul is an expansive and vast pit for experience. A few short years of life will not complete a soul; there is always room to grow. Room to fill.

  For what is a soul? Memory, opinion, belief, wants, and desires.

  These are the experiences that make up the soul. He has simply not lived long enough.

  “So what does that make you and me? To be standing here?”

  His newest or strongest experiences or desires. I have taken residence here for he requires me. I am what his greatest need and desire are. And I channel my power and wants through him. My desires are his, as his are mine. What intrigues me is how you have managed to enter this place that should not have enough room for you.

  Alaintiqam drifted towards Nerisity, their feet barely touching the metal. She backed away, pulling her hands to her chest.

  Alaintiqam glanced at her dead finger and tisked. Apologies. I am of a higher plane of existence. Mortals rarely witness my kind’s truest forms, let alone touch them. You are in rare company.

  “You’re just a ball of light. How is that your truest form?”

  We are incorporeal. We exist in abstract thought. When I was born, I had no form nor structure. I simply was. Our mortal foes, the accursed Denigrations, also share the same physiological rules as we. A ball is comfortable for me, just as much as a sword. Being here, within this place, is a peaceful existence. And I have no intent of departing such a domicile.

  “But you have to. This is his soul you’re in. You are controlling him.” Nerisity faced them. “You’re only giving Arcos what he’s asking for. Not what he needs.”

  And you have what he ‘needs’? Alaintiqam sneered and cracked out a laugh. It snapped the vacuumed air like a whip. I shall be interested to see what that is…

  Alaintiqam swept out a tendril of light to grab at Nerisity, but she dodged away. She felt the very air freeze in the inches between her neck and their reach. Alaintiqam laughed and approached her with a menacing floating glide.

  Like it or not, child, you are powerless to wrest me from his heart. He demanded vengeance, so I did. You obviously have something of some import for him, otherwise he would not have allowed you entry. But I doubt it will suffice. No. No. It does not matter. You do not matter.

  Alaintiqam lunged for her. Nerisity dropped down, allowing Alaintiqam to pass over her as she rolled forward and away.

  But she felt herself be jerked back by her head. She cried out.

  Alaintiqam had latched onto a fistful of her red hair and pulled it hard. Her hair snapped in two, frozen strands dropping on the steel floor like tiny needles.

  Nerisity felt her ears water from the pain but was conscious enough to keep her distance as Alaintiqam advanced on her. She touched her hair. She had lost half of it, leaving her with only shoulder-length hair.

  I wonder… they mused as they patted away the strands of frozen hair. You are here in his soul. As a soul. If I kill you here, what shall happen to your mind and body out there? Let’s find out.

  Nerisity turned and ran to the end of the sword, standing upon the tip and the precipice of Arcos's abyssal soul. There was nothing down there.

  She looked back to see Alaintiqam standing there, watching her with a cocked head.

  Where do you think you can go, child? Down there? There is nothing but the utter subconscious of his mind. A swell of emotions and jumbled memories with no order. No coherence. A roiling sea of rage, pain, and grief. Chaos incarnate…

  Without my celestial light, you shall be lost in such darkness. A living death. You will go mad. At least, your death at my hand will be quick, merciful, painless, and entirely in your control.

  Nerisity wasted no time deciding.

  “I’ll take my chances.” She said before casting herself off the sword and down into the abyss.

  After an hour of free-falling, Nerisity landed roughly on her back on solid stone or ground. The landing should have killed her, but it was softened, and her body was oddly resilient. Well, her soul was in this case. It seemed that only Alaintiqam had the capability to truly hurt her. Within the imposing darkness, she could not tell where she was…

  She pulled herself to her feet. Her back ached from the impact of the fall, but not so much damage as she had feared. She looked around the space.

  That bastard was right.

  She could see nothing at all. There was no sign of light. No sign of scent nor sound.

  She knelt down and felt the cold stone. It was shaped in a particular brickwork with definite gaps between. It was a cobbled road. Nerisity stood up and strained her ears to pick up anything. But there was nothing. She could only hear her breathing and the beat of her heart. She called out into the dark.

  “Hello? Hello! Hellooooo!”

  No answer came. Nerisity shrugged with a curse under her breath, rolled her shoulders, and pushed down her fear. There had to be a way out of here.

  She soldiered on, down the street of darkness.

  She kept on walking. On and on and on she walked. The cobbled street stretched onwards into the black, and she had no clue if she was getting anywhere. After ten minutes, she stopped, walked straight ahead, and turned to her right immediately. She walked that way. And in that direction, she found no end. She turned around and walked the other way and found the same result.

  There was no end. No wall nor fence, no door nor gate. It was just cobbled streets on and on and on and on and on and…

  Exasperated, Nerisity sobbed angrily and dropped to her knees.

  She was getting nowhere. She had no clue where she could go or what she should do. It was hopeless… Hopeless…

  She looked up suddenly with grit in her chest.

  No. No, it was not. She was alive. She wasn’t dead. There was a chance. Maybe there was a chance to help Arcos from within.

  This was his soul, wasn’t it? If she could find him, the part that made up what he was as a person, then maybe she could change his mind.

  How she could achieve this, she had no idea.

  But it was certainly better than just moping around on her knees.

  Nerisity growled and leapt to her feet, feeling that grit in her chest swell into a small bead of heat that fought against the coldness of the dark.

  She coughed. There was something stuck in her throat, like an indignant piece of mucus. She coughed a few times and then spat out, not phlegm, but a small, smooth marble of the purest ruby.

  She stared in shock. How was it even possible? Granted, she was a soul in this place, but even then coughing up a gem was beyond strange.

  She wiped the spittle from the ruby and once it was cleaned, it glowed and grew hot in her hand. It did not burn her and she felt no pain.

  The ruby suddenly brightened to a dazzling light, initially blinding Nerisity. Nerisity averted her eyes from directly staring at the light as the red and orange glow brought clarity and illumination to her surroundings.

  By holding what she could call a torch in her hand, she turned around herself and finally saw everything.

  The ruby’s light revealed that the cobbled street Nerisity had walked upon was not in fact a street. It was a large market square, bordered on the four sides by rows of houses of Darganian design.

  The houses’ colour, though, as was the cobbled ground, the market stalls that spread sporadically in the area and the sky and clouds above, all were of monochrome. Blacks, whites and greys were shown to Nerisity by her ruby, which both remained in their pigments.

  The houses in front of Nerisity shifted and then parted like curtains, revealing a street. She started instantly down that way, in fear of losing this one chance for progress. The streets showed shifting shadows in the shapes of people. They did not acknowledge her.

  “They must be the ghosts of Arcos's memories.” Nerisity realised as two children of shadow rushed down the street and passed through her without pause. “Where are you leading me, Arcos?”

  She wasn’t completely certain that it was Arcos who was opening the way for her, but if it was his soul and memories, then surely he had some say in this.

  Regardless, it was a way forward.

  Nerisity encountered no turnings nor alleys, only the single road that curved around the buildings. It was then that she suddenly recognised a few of the shops and the merchant guilds… She was in Fennaposia! Of course, Arcos grew up here.

  Nerisity became more aware of the shadow-people. Each person she would study, attempting to discern which of them was Arcos. But none of them matched her recognition. She had no way of noting when she was. It was a Fennaposia certainly, but there were no events, nor festivals to state a time in the year. So who’s to say she was even looking for a child or a teenager version of him?

  The sky suddenly darkened overhead as she continued her travel. The ruby’s light did not rob her of her sight. She noticed that the shadow-people all retreated quickly into the domains of the building on both sides of the street.

  She turned in the silence of the meteor she walked to see a troop of five shadow-people marching up the street. Their gait, their outline and their body language gave Nerisity a fright. She had been around Bodyhunters long enough to know what they looked like. They marched past her and through her as they continued up the street. Feeling a dread of recognition in her stomach of the scenario played out before her, Nerisity rushed after them.

  Keeping pace with the Bodyhunters, they all arrived outside a smaller building on a narrower street. It was more clearly defined than the other buildings that she saw. It was a single-floor house with a large chimney in the back. A smithy’s home and workplace. Arcos's home. She was certain of it.

  Four of the five Bodyhunters waited whilst the fifth, a taller shadow, strode to the door and hammered noiselessly against it.

  The door opened and Nerisity approached the door to peer at the man. She stepped back, surprised.

  This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  The fifth Bodyhunter’s shadow-face melted away, revealing the visage of Darius himself, a younger version. And the man was a thin man with charcoal splotches on his face and a smith’s apron with undergarments. Arcos's father.

  Nerisity furrowed her brow curiously. It was odd and strangely underwhelming to see him in full. Arcos did not look much like his father at all. Arcos had his blond hair and pale features, but this man was darker-skinned and had blackish hair. Arcos was taller, but his father was shorter. All in all, Arcos was clearly a better person than his own father in all ways… Clearly, Arcos took all his looks from his mother. Arcos's father stepped aside, allowing Darius entry.

  And Nerisity was helpless as she watched the kidnapping take place. Arcos, a small child of seven, was dragged down the steps from his room by his arms, kicking and screaming at Darius and another Bodyhunter. Arcos's father was paid his bag of silver by the Bodyhunters and closed the door on his own son’s screams.

  “Save him!” Nerisity screamed at the useless father. “Save him, you coward!”

  She turned and saw Arcos clapped in manacles and held in place as a cart came around the corner, driven by a Bodyhunter. In the cart were other slaves, each locked in irons.

  Nerisity watched as Arcos was slapped in the face to silence his screams. Nerisity cursed and lunged at the Bodyhunters. But she only gained a pace’s worth of distance before the street opened a gaping black hole which she fell down into.

  Nerisity dropped down through the sky, seeing clouds rushing past her. The warmth of the ruby remained clenched in her hand. She looked around and saw the full moon lighting up the night. It shone down at her with a menace. Alaintiqam was watching her. She spat at the moon mid-fall as she saw the ground coming up to her.

  Once again, her fall was slowed to a crawl when she was metres from the ground. She landed and saw she was far outside the city and standing in grasslands. Grasslands that she recognised.

  For a moment, she had thought she was back in the real world, with the possessed Arcos and her friends.

  But the sight of the hellish hole before her, filled with activity, told her otherwise.

  The Salt Pit was in full operation and, like in the city, there was no sound. Hundreds of the slaves, with chains on their necks, legs, and arms, shuffled around the scaffolding that circled the gargantuan pit dug down into the bosom of the earth for salt and minerals. Guards, armed with whips, swords, staves, and cudgels, patrolled the surface’s edge and amongst the woodworks of the mine. A dozen large Sarki hunted with the guards, giving menacing looks to the slaves that kept on working. The sight gave Nerisity a twist in her stomach. She had known of the cruelties of the slave pits. She knew of the slave markets and, up until her own incarceration, she had thought the treatment of the slaves was exaggerated. But no. It was not.

  She watched as one slave dropped to her knees before a female guard, begging and pointing at a fellow slave who had collapsed on the ground, possibly from exhaustion. The guard shook her head, grabbed the slave by her neck, and casually threw the outspoken slave off the edge. The poor victim was sent screaming down into the pit. There was a moment of pause as all watched the death, then all resumed work like it was a daily occurrence. The collapsed slave was dragged by the same guard to a pair of waiting Sarki tied to a stake. The Sarki wasted no time in devouring the slave, tearing the person to blood-sheds. Nerisity turned away for fear of retching.

  She turned only to be greeted with yet another vile sight.

  A young slave, a girl no more than Nerisity’s own age, was being dragged by her hair by two laughing guards towards one of the erected wooden cabins near the pit. Two more guards were outside, smoking on reed pipes as the pair dragged in the kicking and screaming girl. The outside guards stubbed out their pipes and followed them inside, undoing their belt buckles as they entered.

  Nerisity refused to witness the gang-rape. She looked away, utterly sickened.

  And saw that another had seen it.

  A young Arcos, chained and dirty and slightly older than before. He had a black eye and a bloodied nose, and his eyes were filled with tears, pain, and fear. He was standing with a wheelbarrow filled with mud. He stared at the cabin with morbid curiosity.

  Nerisity rushed to him.

  “Arcos!” She said to him as she dropped to her knees before him. “Arcos! It’s me! I’m here. I’m here.”

  Arcos did not see her. He did not hear her. He only stared wordlessly at the cabin with those dark-tinted windows.

  If you’re so curious… Came a sudden voice that was wind, water, earth, and fire and whispers, have a closer look.

  Nerisity looked up and saw a large man with beady eyes and a cruel face standing behind Arcos.

  Arcos looked up at him with increased fear, shaking his head and trying to run away.

  But the man grabbed him by the neck and dragged him towards the cabin.

  “No.” Nerisity gasped. “Dear gods, no! Don’t!” She swiped her hand at the man, but her nails passed through his face.

  Arcos tried to wriggle free, but he was too young and too weak.

  They reached the cabin’s door, and the man opened it.

  “NO!” She screamed.

  The man stuck his head in and yelled.

  Oi! You ain’t finished yet, I hope? You’ve got a peeping-tom here. So give him a good show!

  “DON’T!” She howled.

  The man threw open the door, grabbed Arcos by the chin, and made him watch the vile evils unfolding in that small, dirty, dark cabin.

  Yeah! Give it to her! Woo! Make the bitch scream!

  Nerisity shrieked at the sight.

  Arcos's innocence was being violated and murdered before her. She shut her eyes to banish the image from her mind.

  A whipping sound came to her. The first sound she had heard before that guard’s voice.

  She opened her eyes and saw that she was now standing in the bowels of the slave pit. It was midday, with the same burning down upon the backs of the slaves.

  She looked for the sound of the whipping and saw it.

  A group of guards held down a pair of slaves whilst another guard— the same one that tortured Arcos before— was taking a whip upon the splayed slaves’ backs.

  Nerisity recognised both slaves by their hair. It was Torrance and Arcos. Arcos was a lot older. More the same age that she knew him.

  The whip tore into the flesh of their backs. Blood and flecks of skin littered the ground and sand. Nerisity dropped to her knees, already broken by the horror of this place and wept at Arcos's blacked-out expression. She couldn’t take it anymore. She wept into her hands, feeling the tears soak into her palms and fingers. The ruby glowed hot against her face.

  The whipping, cries of pain, and the brightness of the sun ceased.

  Nerisity lifted her hands away to see that she was kneeling in the tall grass of a vast field that was far-removed from the grasslands surrounding Fennaposia. She stood up to look around the new memory. It was a field, bountiful and brimming with life. Insects flew over and around her. And in the distance was a large village of wood and mortar with a great monolithic temple in the centre of the settlement.

  Nearby, Nerisity turned and saw fighting. A couple of figures battling with thin combatants. Nerisity rushed towards the fight. Stopping short of it, she recognised them.

  Reeva, Boras, and Arcos. They were dressed in darkened garbs befitting of this strange guild that Nerisity had heard of from Arcos.

  All of them fighting with admirable ability against scarecrows? Scarecrows!? These scarecrows were not inanimate; they held farming tools as weapons as they launched assault upon assault upon the trio. Nearby and overseeing the fight was Tilda herself, arms crossed and silent.

  Spellbound by the sight, Nerisity watched the fight unfold and saw Arcos's face.

  He was smiling and focused. He was free and he was enjoying himself in this moment. He looked stunning, broad-shouldered, and fast. Nerisity smiled at his expression. She had so rarely seen him so happy.

  She blinked and the scenario had changed once again.

  She now stood by a cherry tree, one that she recognised. It was the tree that sat outside the borders of Silverstreak. It was a cloudy and darkened day. She turned around to see Silverstreak and stared in horrific realisation of when she was. The fires that ate up Barnabas’ tavern still plumed high. The hanging dead of the town were still in the process of being brought down, and the pyres continued to blaze.

  She looked around to find Arcos. And she did. Over by a mound of dirt that looked eerily like a freshly buried grave, were Boras and Reeva watching a fight between Arcos and Tilda.

  Nerisity was shocked to see this occur, seeing how trusting and caring Tilda had been to the unconscious Arcos during their flight from the fortress. But here they were, fighting with deadly intent. Nerisity tried to run from the memory, but she was unable to move her feet. She remained locked in place to see the fight play out in its entirety. Arcos used his strength to eventually overpower Tilda. He spared her. Broke a sword and threw it to her before walking away from her, quickly followed by Boras and Reeva.

  Arcos walked by Nerisity and passed by her within inches of her. Nerisity saw his face. It was a cloud of anger, pain, rage, vengeance, and sorrow. She felt her heart break. He was so happy in that field. But now he was hurt. Broken. Angry.

  And it was not fair.

  It isn’t fair. Enough. That is enough. I have seen ENOUGH.

  Nerisity felt a bubbling anger swell in her hand as the ruby glowed a white-hot hue. The righteous rage couldn’t be stopped. So Nerisity took a deep breath, counted to three in her head, and then roared.

  The roar was filled with pain and defiance, of anger and strength. Every part of her being poured out from her mouth, which felt warm, then hot, then scorching, getting hotter and hotter until-

  A spout of red and orange fire erupted from her mouth.

  It came out and tore into the memory. It burned away the trees and the grass. It turned the trees to charred ash and remains. Even the air was set on fire as the fire rose up into the clouds and burned those away too.

  Nerisity just kept roaring. She didn’t feel surprised to see this, which surprised her. It felt as natural as breathing or sleeping. So she kept on going. The fire kept coming. And the flames twisted around the world around her until nothing but fire was there. The memory of that terrible grave burned away.

  Nerisity felt herself rise, propelled by fire that exploded from her feet, sending her up and into the fire-sky. She saw a ceiling that held the fire back. It was a silvery light. She snarled.

  “No.” She hissed.

  She threw out a hand, by instinct of something beyond her understanding at that moment, and fire spurted from her fingers, sending five lines of conflagration right into the ceiling of light. It slammed into the glass-like form and cracked it under the stress of the fire.

  Nerisity propelled herself into the glass. She roared fire and passion as her body collided and smashed through the weakened ceiling that held her back from the void of Arcos's soul.

  Back in the void, Nerisity spun through, leaving trails of flame in her wake. She felt her heart hammering madly in her chest. Her blood was literally boiling. And her hair felt like the flames that exuded from her feet and mouth and the ruby. She looked around the darkness, seeing nothing.

  She knew exactly what to do.

  “Then let’s bring in some light!” She exclaimed. She hugged herself and then threw open her arms, emitting an explosion of fire from her chest.

  The explosion sent fire flying in all directions, driving back the darkness. And in doing so, revealed all of the memories. Nerisity was stunned.

  There were thousands of them. Fleeting pictures or vignettes of events or experiences that fluttered in a messy and haphazard jumble. Nerisity propelled through the jungle of experience. She saw images that she recognised, ones that included her like when they first met or their walks around Silverstreak. There were others, with people she did not know. One was a pier at nighttime where Arcos fought against a gang of thugs with another gang of thugs. Another showed him in a darkened room conversing with a man wearing a silver mask. These spots of his life rushed past her as she ignored them.

  She wasn’t looking for those. She wanted to find him. Surely, he would be here too. Surely…

  Wait.

  She stopped mid-flight and looked to her left at a cluster of memories, cloudy and misty in colour with a silver tint to them. A colour palette that clearly belonged to Alaintiqam. The cluster was swarming around some sort of structure or building or earth-like monument. Piqued, Nerisity darted for those toxic memories. If she couldn’t yet find him, she could at least clear away the pain these memories held.

  She shot out a dozen or so of the fire bolts that speared and burned at the memories. The memories fled in a scrabble, like frightened rats. With the way cleared, Nerisity approached the structure.

  It was a cave, set into the cliff face which its top and bottom were shrouded in the darkness. Having spent time in two memories, Nerisity recognised the colour of the stone in the cliff and the scaffolding around the cave’s entrance. The cave was a part of the slave pit.

  This was no memory. It was clear, solid and filled with colour. This construct was made to house something… or someone.

  Nerisity landed at the mouth of the cave, feeling the coldness emanating from within. It was ice cold, devoid of any warmth in all senses of that word. Nerisity ducked into the cave, feeling the shadows of the place claw at her. But her fire beat back the menacing atmosphere as she stepped further in.

  Halfway in, she saw him.

  He was hunkered down on the stone floor, hands hugging his knees close to his chest. Manacles chained his ankles and wrists together. Naked, frail, beaten, bruised, and bloodied by a hundred cuts. He was so small, so young. Neri realised with shock. It was Arcos when he was a child, when he was only seven or eight as he was taken from his home.

  This was his soul. This was what he looked like on the inside, hidden from everyone else.

  Neri stifled back a heartbroken sob.

  It seemed that Arcos never left that cave.

  Neri approached the small boy quietly and slowly. Making no sudden movements, she knelt down in front of Arcos. She breathed out slowly, calming down the flames to a slight glimmer that danced along her hair and skin.

  “Arcos?” She asked softly.

  The boy still kept his head in the pit of his arms, hands gripped tightly on his pulled-up legs.

  “Arcos.” Neri shifted towards Arcos, whilst keeping her distance. “Please, look at me.”

  The small, frail Arcos seemed to curl more into himself.

  “Don’t shut me out.” Neri felt her tears well up as she fought her throat from being clogged. “I came here.”

  “You’ll leave.” Arcos suddenly replied, his voice small, broken, and so childlike. “Everyone does…”

  “I’m not.” Neri said before pushing herself right up to him. Arcos tried to scrabble away, but Neri placed her hand on his arm. He seemed to freeze at the touch.

  “No one is leaving you.” She spoke, growing more confident. “They’re all fighting to save you. To bring you home. All you need to do is stop fighting and stop… stop being angry. Let us be angry for you…”

  Arcos's shoulders started to sag and shake as Neri began to hear the sniffles and sobs from the small boy.

  “We love you. We love you so much.” Neri wiped the tears from her face. “Come back to us.”

  Arcos slowly lifted his head. His blue eyes sparkled against the gauntness of his face and the broken soul he was. Neri smiled softly.

  Arcos's small form sobbed and lunged forward, pushing himself into her embrace.

  “You feel warm,” he said under his breath. “Like a sun… It’s nice.”

  “Really? Thank you…” Nerisity held him for that moment, tenderly stroking his hair.

  “You want to come back?” She asked him.

  “Yes…”

  “Then let’s go. Let’s go home.”

  Nerisity hugged Arcos close as she stood, carrying the little boy in her arms. Turning towards the entrance, she strode towards it with a grim expression.

  Stepping at the exit, she felt the coldness of the space suddenly drop to a freezing temperature and an ethereal light of sliver and moon filled the void. Nerisity felt her skin ice over and her eyes sting from the cold. But she fought back, feeling the ruby in her hand and the fire in her chest swell. The heat grew from her body, careful not to burn Arcos as it ate into the cave and tore the construct apart.

  What are you doing, you stupid girl?! Stop!

  Alaintiqam’s voice echoed from the blackness as the thousands of memories, once floating aimlessly like clouds, suddenly stopped and, as one, turned towards her. They all lunged at her like a swarm of hornets.

  Stop! He is mine! You ignorant, ungrateful speck of dust! I will not allow this!

  The memory of a fight against the Bodyhunter Hildur reached Nerisity first. But she faced the memory with no fear but an animalistic rage. She screamed out a whip of fire that scourged the memory with a single lash. The memory retreated and Nerisity jolted into the air. She aimed upwards and that was where she flew, carrying the small boy in her arms.

  He is mine!

  The memories surged upwards, hunting her. Nerisity roared at the abyss around her.

  “Not a chance in all the hells!”

  Her fire burnt outwards, striking back the closest memories from touching her. She looked up and searched for something to head towards, a destination to aim for. Anything, anything at all!

  And there it was.

  A pinprick of light. A star, brighter than the rest in the void. It blinked into her sight and its brightness grew and grew and grew until it was a great ball of light.

  The sun, Nerisity realised. It was the sun. And she did not realise how much she missed seeing it.

  NO!

  Nerisity looked down and saw the sword of Alaintiqam below her, rising up at her. Standing upon its point like the bow of a ship was Alaintiqam themselves, with all the memories at their back. Though she was unable to see their expression, she could hear the rage in that spiritual voice.

  YOU WILL NOT TAKE HIM FROM ME, HE IS MINE, YOU HEAR ME? HE IS MINE, YOU DIRTY LITTLE SNAKE!

  The sword platform glowed brightly and morphed into… Nerisity couldn’t believe her eyes. It turned into a white, great, expansive surface that stretched far and wide.

  A surface of… the moon. Dear gods… The moon.

  Alaintiqam was riding the moon after her.

  Terrified by the sight, Nerisity refocused on the sun that called to her. Putting all her strength and will into her new power, she felt her fire explode from her feet and shoot her through the void like a crossbow bolt. She roared as she willed every part of her to get towards that sun.

  Just get there. Just get there!

  Emerging from the sun’s light, was a flurry of movement in the air. Memories.

  They flew down towards Nerisity at a startling speed. She drew back her free hand to spear the new attackers. But she paused as she saw what they represented.

  Arcos, laughing. Drinking with his friends. Training with Tilda. Training with Torrance. Playing with Courageous. Sleeping in the fields outside his Guild.

  Happy memories, joyous memories. They glowed with a warm light as they reached her and spun around her, forming a protective wall against the darker, colder memories that lurched at her sides.

  One final memory of warmth came towards her, brighter than the others.

  Nerisity recognised it, for she remembered being there.

  It was an image of Arcos and herself, in her bed. It was their first night together, all those months ago. She recalled that she cried afterwards, from the pure bliss and joy of it.

  As she smiled at the memory, the memory darted and passed through both her chest and Arcos's. Both of them sighed, as if a great weight had been taken from their backs. The memory lunged from within them and charged down, leading the flock of memories.

  Nerisity spared a glance to see the good memories slamming into the darker ones in an almighty crash of light, sound, and sensation. The shockwave of that collision could have ruptured a castle. Nerisity felt herself and Arcos be blown away from the blast, hurtling head over heels into the embrace of the sun.

  DAMN YOU!

  Alaintiqam screeched as they reached out a hand, sending lightning-quick silver tendrils out to snatch Arcos. But it was too far and too late.

  Nerisity yelled as she and the young soul in her arms fell up into the fires of the sun. Burning, scalding, charring until nothing remained but the ashes of their souls.