The Blood of Darkness

By annabelwritess

732K 25.9K 67.4K

"๐™๐™๐™š ๐™—๐™ก๐™ค๐™ค๐™™ ๐™ค๐™› ๐™›๐™–๐™ก๐™ก๐™š๐™ฃ ๐™จ๐™ฉ๐™–๐™ง๐™จ ๐™›๐™ก๐™ค๐™ฌ๐™จ ๐™ž๐™ฃ ๐™ฎ๐™ค๐™ช๐™ง ๐™ซ๐™š๐™ž๐™ฃ๐™จ, ๐™œ๐™ž๐™ง๐™ก. ๐™๐™๐™š ๐™—๐™ก๐™ค๏ฟฝ... More

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Epilogue
Notes & Further Information
Book Two

Chapter 71

3K 127 334
By annabelwritess


This book is finally almost done! Next week's update will be the epilogue, which will be, in my opinion, a very exciting end. There will also be an update with information about where I'll go with publishing & book two. Thank you for reading <3

Val

Monsters.

Like the Occisor and the Latora but different, less human-like and more feral. Absent of something essential, something necessary, something to differentiate between person and animal, despite the vicious progression of each.

They are creatures with gaping mouths, silver or black claws, and thousands of sharp teeth. And they, these monsters, they know me.

They reach for me, hissing my name, and even as I run I can feel their deadly claws catching on my clothes. Their eyes are on me, their gazes so intent that it is as if they are peeling away the flesh on my back.

"Come home. Come home. Come home."

I run through fields of blood, crimson and alabaster and ebony. It rains from the sky, a distortion of colors. This world is a world ravaged by war.

"You have the power," the voices tell me, closing in. "You can destroy your world or remake it."

I slip in the blood and slam into the ground, except that it is no longer the ground but an ocean. It's an ocean of blood and I am swimming in it, trying to stay above the waves, and then suddenly it is no longer blood but water—salty, dark water, and I cannot stay afloat.

Above me is the sky, a stormy sky pale with dawn—of course it's dawn—and then there are the cliffs, too close, rising above the tumultuous waters that threaten to pull me down. At the top of the highest peak, there is a person. The figure is at the edge and they stare down at me, as if waiting.

And then there is a shadow. It is behind the figure and it is silver and familiar. But then that shadow turns into a person, a girl, and she is suddenly screaming and falling, down down down, towards me. The figure at the top of the cliff stays steady, watching.

Before I can see the girl hit the water, a wave seizes me, and I am flying towards the base of the bluffs, powerless to save myself. The jagged rocks loom closer and closer, destruction inevitable, ruination imminent—

And then my vision shifts. My vision shifts and I see snow and I see light and I see fire and I see Kye.

I see Kye but he looks different somehow. Changed. He holds a sword charged with flames and he is screaming. His face is wet and he fights ferally with his opponent, his opponent who is Manar.

Yes. I see Kye and Manar and they are fighting.

They are fighting and it is the kind of fight that the heavens watch because it has that air of magnitude, that air of finality and that feeling of finally.

I find myself aching for that same feeling. Aching for I missed you I missed you I missed you and I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry and I love you I love you I love you.

Another shift, but the same kingdom. Dawn, smoke in the air, shouts and cries all around, a castle, wet grass. Light and searing pain and more finality, more inevitability. Then nothingness, nothingness, falling into an abyss, not understanding, not feeling, then becoming—

The world warps once again and this time the sky is falling and it is raining blood and people are screaming. The monsters are back. They are back and they are victorious and they are ready to take and take and take, take everything until there is nothing left, nothing at all.

And I am one of them.

~

I wake up screaming. Horrible, throat-searing screams that shake my whole damaged body.

I lose my breath when I am slapped. The air is knocked out of me and then a hand clamps down over my mouth and I physically cannot breathe. I'm gasping for air, trying to fight against the person who holds me down but I'm too weak.

Nails dig into the deep cut on my arm. I scream so hard against the hand that everything goes black.

~

I'm on my knees in a barren field.

I am wordless and lost, and I have never known anything that feels quite like this, this, this hurt in the heart, this emptiness, and I find myself wishing that I don't have a heart, but I know I have one, however monstrous it is, and I can't just wish it away. I can't wish away the hurt or the tears that burn behind my eyes. I can't wish away anything. My suffering is my own to carry.

I don't know how long I kneel on the dry, yellow blades of grass. But I begin to calm. I feel myself taking a breath. I let myself feel the cool air on my face.

And then the heat comes. Scorching but I don't care. How can I care when I cannot even move, when this surely isn't even real?

The field is on fire and I lay burning.

~

If only—

~

"I missed you."

"I'm sorry."

"I love you."

How can I wait for an impossible possibility?

~

The Latora was right.

This world has ruined me and I have let it.

No.

I have ruined myself.

~

I awaken once again. I am sprawled out on the ground, laying on dewy grass. Manar is kneeling above me, winding torn-off strips of my own ragged dress around the wound on my arm. I feel familiarly faint, a sign of blood loss.

I'm probably going to need stitches.

The thought makes me want to be sick.

Manar's dark eyes slide up to meet mine. "I can't have you dying before we can even be wed now, can I?"

Everything feels so fucking wrong I can hardly stand it.

I try to yank my arm away from him. "Don't touch me." My words come out a hoarse, desperate gasp.

He tightens his grip on me and smiles. "I'll touch you whenever I want, darling."

I want to start screaming again. I want to jump up and run far, far away. I want to run all the way back to Trivette, to Asilo, to wherever Kye and Zyair and Neve and Lucine and Quinn are.

But I can't.

Not yet, at least. Not for a while.

"You are disgusting," I spit at Manar.

"And you are a monster. My monster." He reaches out to wipe a traitorous, dark tear from beneath my eye. "We will do great things, you and I." His expression suddenly becomes far away, as if his thoughts have wandered. "Great things."

I don't know what to say. Well, I know what I want to say but I can't say it because I can't be myself anymore; I have to be his Valerie darling again.

If I'm myself none of this will work out. He'll still end up killing me. Nothing I've done will matter then.

"You're losing less blood now," Manar says, standing up and turning towards the horse, which is tied to a nearby tree. We're in a moonlit grassy area on the side of a dirt road, empty except for the five or so horse-bound soldiers, presumably guards, watching either end of the route. We must already be in Nieves, undoubtedly on our way to the city and castle. Manar continues: "I had to make a stop a while back, after you had fainted, to examine something strange near the Alba with my men. We did experience a bit of a delay, but we should be at the castle by dawn."

All I can do is nod in assent and struggle to my unsteady feet, relieved that my head has stopped pounding so mercilessly, for now I can finally think. Dawn approaching. Again. What could have possibly delayed us so greatly?

"Look at the stars, darling," Manar says, untying the horse from the tree and motioning for his guards to get ready to depart. He looks back at me, wearing the same victorious, satisfied smile he's had on his face ever since I agreed to marry him.  "Aren't they enchanting?"

The Star must meet his demise.

"Yes," I tell him quietly, my voice still acrid and faint. "They certainly are."

He turns and comes to stand in front of me. He lifts a hand, and I brace myself to take a blow. Instead, he lifts my chin up, forcing me to look at him. It takes all of my self-control to not flinch away. "I will let you know, Valerie, that I will tolerate no more insults from you, especially once we are back at the castle," he tells me, his mouth close, too close, close enough that I can feel his sickly hot breath on my skin. "You will be my wife and my Queen, and you shall not speak or act against me."

"And if I do?"

His brown eyes narrow. "Then there will be consequences." His mouth curves upwards. "We could start with reopening some more of your scars. You still remember how to stitch yourself, right?"

Everything inside me twists in revulsion and uncertainty and horror.

I can't do this again.

But I have to.

So I swallow. Nod. Tell him that I understand.

It's as if I can feel parts of myself breaking away, some integral part deep inside me shriveling up and dying.

This is the price for running from fate.

The punishment.

~

When we reach the city's borders, we're stopped by soldiers and moved to an opulent carriage. I can't help but notice how some of them stare at me as Manar and I pass by—they bow to their King, but their eyes are on me. And many of their expressions are hateful.

Just like the spies. They don't want me as their Queen.

But it's not as bad as when we pass through the city streets in a grand procession, surrounded by guards on elegant white horses. People stop and stare as they pass by, and the disdain and accusation in their eyes nearly shatters me.

I'm marrying the enemy, which makes me an enemy as well.

I don't want this, I want to scream. I never wanted this. Nieves used to be my home too—I still want to save it. I want to kill the man I'm going to marry but I can't because I made a deal and I'm not going to break it.

I'm not going to sacrifice Kye to save what used to be my home. I wouldn't sacrifice Kye to save the world.

These people can hate me all they want. Yes, I care, but I don't regret my choice. I could never.

Though I know that I will never see Nieves as my home again, I can't help but stare at the city as I pass by, a part of me having missed its familiarity. Most of the destruction caused by Rurik's invasion—around a year and a half ago—is repaired. The buildings are all pale shades—whites, light blues and grays and greens. I remember how when I was younger, I would love staring at the city when the sun rose or set, for everything would seem to be softly glowing.

What distorts everything is the soldiers in the streets, the Rurikan flags everywhere, the long lines outside of stores full of people waiting to receive meager rations. People hang from nooses almost everywhere, most likely killed for little to no reason at all. Death's presence is thick in the cool air, leaving the stone-faced civilians bearing its ominous weight upon their shoulders.

Of course, the castle looms above everything, its high spires casting threatening shadows down upon the streets. I remember spending entire nights up in those spires, watching the stars with Vance.

Vance.

Fear surges inside me. Mind-numbing fear. Is he still here? In Nieves? What will he think of me? I'm the reason he's been tortured for months, after all, so he

has a reason to hate me. And now I'm here, and for what? Nothing.

"What is it, darling?" Manar asks. He's watching me intently from where he sits across from me. "You seem troubled."

Really? Who the fuck would have guessed?

I'm careful with my words. "It's...strange. Being back here." Devastating. Terrible. All of my worst nightmares come true.

He nods, glancing out the window. "Yes, I'm sure it is." A pause. Then, casually, as if he doesn't care at all: "Kye Merran. He's an Ember, correct?"

I'm immediately frozen in my seat. Not Kye. Not right now. Please not Kye. Anything, anyone but Kye.

All I can see is his expression, the look on his face right before my darkness overtook him. The pain in his eyes, the harsh sting of fear and betrayal.

He has to know that I'm sorry, right? That I never wanted to hurt him? That, if only I could, I'd drown myself in my own Darkness just so I know how it must have felt for him.

"Valerie." Manar's voice has quickly become harsh. Demanding. No more facade of indifference.

"Why are you asking me?" I say mildly. "Ask the Latora. She tells you all, does she not?"

Manar's eyes meet mine. "You know that that is not how our relationship works."

I'm tired, so tired, so I decide to try and be neutral in this matter to briefly appease him. Delay his rage for a moment. "Fine. What is it that you would like to know?"

He smiles somewhat ferally. "Everything. But to start: Is he powerful?"

"That depends on your definition of powerful. It's a rather vague, opinionated kind of word, don't you think?"

Manar sits up, reaching across the gap between our seats and forcefully grabbing my dark hands, clasping them in his own. "He doesn't love you, darling," he tells me, his eyes almost deranged. "I love you."

I don't say anything. I keep my features blank, my gaze impassive, betraying nothing. This only angers him further. He leans toward me, tightening his grip on my hands until it feels nearly bone-crushing. "You seem to have forgotten in your time away that you are mine. And soon, you will be my wife. My queen. There will be no escape for you, Valerie. You will tell me what I want to know or else I will torture it out of you."

"You don't love me," I finally whisper. "You love the idea of the person you want to shape me into." Obedient. Subservient. Controllable. A monster with reins.

Manar is quiet for a moment. Then: "Maybe you are right. Nobody could love you as you are right now—uselessly devoted, resolutely monstrous, foolishly tenacious, disillusioned by what you think you deserve but really don't. Nobody could look at you, ruined as you are, and love you nonetheless."

Kye loves me. Kye loves me. Kye loves me.

Kye hates you. You practically betrayed him. You hurt him. You're marrying the enemy.

My breath stutters in my chest, ambivalence pushing in through the cracks in my shell of aloofness. I forgot just how easily Manar's cruel words could get to me. I think it's because there's always been that part of myself that can so easily agree with him. That part of myself that hates who I am. Not human. Monster. Killer. Bringer of death, shadow of sorrow.

Stop it, Val.

I tear my hands from Manar's and reach up to press a hand to my heart. Monster with a heart. Monster with a heart. Monster with a heart. My hand comes away wet with my own dark blood, courtesy of the X Manar cut below my collarbone. Human without a soul. Human without a soul. Human without a—

The carriage jerks to a halt.

"Looks like we're here, darling," Manar says with a smile. He stands just as a soldier opens the door from the outside. Manar steps out first, then grabs my wrist roughly and pulls me with him. I can't help but stumble, for I'm still terribly weak. None of my wounds have been cared for, and I have the sick feeling that I may have to take care of them myself because that on its own is a special kind of torture and it is one I have experienced countless times before and would not care to experience again.

I glance warily around myself, and sure enough, we stand before the castle, right in front of the grand entrance. Soldiers and guards are everywhere, some of them pulling along shackled people. Prisoners. Both soldiers, guards, and prisoners sneak glances at me. I wonder if I am recognized by anyone. Valerie Tenebris, back again for round two of hell. Tragic? No. Fucking pathetic.

Manar turns to me, that same sick smile still resting on his lips. "I must go and check in with my army. The Generals await me. My guards will escort you inside." A pause. His smile deepens. "Where would you like to stay until I retrieve you? My private chambers, or your old cell? I've kept it vacant, just for you."

My answer is immediate, though I know that it is not the answer he wants from me. "My cell."

This dull kind of roaring starts in my mind. I don't know how I'm going to do it. Again. Locked in. No windows. No way out. Cold, hard, bare floor. Shades of gray. Chains. Other prisoners screaming in the distance. Darkness. Curling into myself, thinking that if I'm small and quiet enough then I'll forget that I'm suffering—

Manar's lips thin. "Very well." He nods to the guards that have come to surround us. "Take her in, then. Her friend is down in the dungeons too—the one with the pink hair. Make sure he is far away."

The world goes still. Then twists, contorting. "What?" My voice is unnaturally shrill. Pink hair, pink hair, pink hair. "What friend? What do you mean?"

No, no—he's supposed to be with Kye. He's supposed to be safe. He can't be here. He can't be.

Manar simply stares at me, his lips curving back upwards. "Zyair Elway."

"No." My voice is a mere whisper, then it rises. "No."

No no no no no, not him, not Zyair—

But then I remember. He was back in our rooms when the soldiers attacked. And Manar had to be in our rooms to leave the knife there....

"No," I tell Manar desperately, suddenly ready to beg. "No, please—he's done nothing. Leave him out of this. He—he—he has nothing to do with me. He's not—he wasn't involved, I swear—"

But Manar just watches me with a steady, satisfied gaze, nods to the guards once again, then turns to walk away.

Two guards instantly seize me, their hands rough as they grip my bare elbows. I want to push them away. I want to fight them. I want to kill them. But I shouldn't because that wouldn't be a smart decision and Manar could still kill me if he wanted and I already made my choice and Zyair is here, stuck, imprisoned. And even if I wanted to fight, I'm not sure if I could because I've lost blood and my Darkness is still nowhere to be found and everywhere aches and my head still hurts, pounds, bleeds, keeping me dizzy and disoriented and weak.

The guards practically drag me up the wide set of marble steps leading to the tall, extravagantly carved double doors that used to be silver but are now painted black. I stumble between them, the world spinning around me. And then—then they abruptly let go of me, each at the same time. "Bitch," one of them hisses just as I go falling backwards, unable to properly balance myself.

I reach up to cradle my injured head with my hands just as my back slams into hard stone. The impact sends  sharp rivulets of pain ricocheting up my spine, knocking the breath out of me. The two guards appear above me, and one of them kicks me, reprimanding me with harsh words for trying to escape. The other one fists a hand in my hair and uses that grip to pull me back to my feet. It feels like he's tearing my scalp out and I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from crying out. The pungent taste of blood fills my mouth.

Nobody wants me here, I think to myself as I gasp for breath, realizing with a sick feeling how potentially dangerous this could be. Nobody but Manar. I can't even blame the guards. They know who I am. Why would they want me to be their Queen?

Still. That voice in the back of my mind, that voice that is not Icylus's or the Occisor's but my own: Make them regret it.

The guards pull me back up the steps, and I close my eyes, letting my head hang down so that the dizziness and relentless pounding ebbs away slightly. Strands of pale hair fall in my face, the rest still tucked into my braid. 

Kye's hands in my hair and his lips on my neck and his voice telling me that I look lovely—

A loud grating noise signifies that the doors to the castle are opening. Suddenly my feet are no longer scraping against gray stone but glossy black tile instead. The steady footsteps of the guards echo around us, making the high ceilings obvious.

I know this castle. I know every corridor and tower and staircase and I don't want to. I don't want to look up and recognize it all. I don't want to verify the knowledge that I'm doing this, that I'm here again, that I'm living out the consequences for being a selfish monster who was playing at being human, the one thing she isn't and never will be.

And then, from above, I hear a commotion. Distant shouts and rushing footsteps. It makes me feel...makes me feel...make me feel like—

I look up.

And I see him.

Our eyes meet, and my breath stutters in my chest.

Shaggy black hair and sapphire blue eyes and Vance, it's Vance, oh gods it's actually Vance, he's really alive, he's here, it's real, not a dream or an illusion—

He blinks and then he's raising his hands and sharp shards of ice are exploding from his palms and the two guards on either side of me are suddenly on the floor clutching their bloody chests and Vance is running running running down the staircase, his eyes wide and desperate and disbelieving, and I'm stumbling and staggering and tripping towards him, absolutely terrified, feeling guilty, too guilty, so guilty, so horribly unsure—

And then we collide. Vance's arms come around me and he crushes me to him, whispering my name over and over and over. He feels warm and solid, safe and familiar, and I cling to him, my hands curled around his neck, my head buried in his shoulder. I try to speak but instead I fall apart. Instead I start shaking with sobs, crying so hard that my throat hurts.

Vance loosens his hold on me slightly so that he can cradle my face in his hands. His beautiful eyes search my face, and my gaze burns with tears, making my vision go blurry. "It's you," Vance murmurs, his voice breaking, his words filled with something like awe and too much emotion. And I understand what he means,

how he feels. It's one thing knowing that I'm alive, another thing entirely seeing and touching me in person. "It's really you. Val. Gods, Val—"

"Vance." I blink, letting the tears fall so I can see him more clearly. I vaguely register more shouting echoing around us, but for some reason, nobody comes near. "I—I..." I struggle to find the right words.

"No," he says, brushing my white hair out of my face with his thumbs, his touch impossibly gentle. His expression has contorted; he looks as if he's in pain. "No, no, don't cry. Please don't cry." His voice has this wavering tone to it, as if he's about to fall apart but is trying his hardest not to. For my sake. And I'm grateful. I don't think I could handle it.

"I'm sorry," I whisper, nearly choking on the words. I don't even know what exactly I'm apologizing for. My mind is a mangled mess—I'm shattered, shattered and shaking and sick, so sick, sick with horror and hysteria and heartache and everything in between.

"Don't be sorry. Don't be sorry, please, Val—"

I'm afraid that this impossible, irrevocable choice I made is going to kill me, I want to tell him. Break me. Destroy me.

"It's all—" I can hardly speak. "It's all my fault."

"What happened?" Vance's eyes search my own, and I can see the fear in them. His hands slide down to my shoulders, my back, and he holds me tight against him, with such fierceness that it brings more tears to my eyes. "Tell me what happened. Why are you here? You shouldn't be here. You can't be here."

I stare at him, pleadingly, beseechingly. Don't make me say it. Please don't make me say it. "You—you know what happened."

His face crumples because he does. He does know. Of course he knows. There's only one explanation for my presence. "It wasn't supposed to be like this," he says, pressing my forehead to his own, his entire expression utterly shattered, wrenched into agony. "When I—when I begged the gods to let me see you again. It wasn't— not like this. Never like this."

"I know," I whisper, more tears falling despite my efforts to hold them back. "I know."

Suddenly, there's a loud cracking sound. It startles us both, and I look just in time to see tall walls of ice collapsing around us. "My shackles—" Vance starts hoarsely, and I understand that he couldn't hold it any longer because of the Lychnus.

Guards quickly surround us, and we're wrenched apart. Vance fights, of course. He screams at the guards not to hurt me, that if they hurt me he'll kill them all.

I just let myself be taken. It's no use fighting back, not right now.

Honestly, I'm not sure how much fight I have left in me. Two dawns ago, I woke up with Kye next to me and my heart had never felt fuller, so full that I thought it would explode. Now, I feel like an empty carcass whom the world has drained for all she's worth.

I am ashamed of myself.

I am tired.

The Occisor's voice, heavy in my muddled mind: "You are not done."

I know.

I do not feel empty, not truly. I just feel so much that I feel nothing at all.

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