“You are monsters.” he said again, “The Flawed are trying to save us, aren’t they? Why are you doing this?”

  Zayne noted the largest opening split like an arrowhead at the very tip of the cave. His arms ached from holding the stone, but did not let go. He began to move, and the old man followed behind like his shadow.

  Cenebrous caved in again, this time staying at a distance as he furrowed his eyebrows, probably ashamed of himself.

  Awe soon crushed his shame. As they ducked underneath the low-hanging roof, they found themselves on the teetering edge of a vast chasm, broken into rivulets that engulfed anything in scope than they had seen previously. Four statues hung like towers across each corners, peering down at them, flooding the room with an incandescent glow.

  A large piece of marble lay at the end of the small strip that they stood upon, with a message carved onto it.

  It was an immense sight, would have been astonishing, but at that point, neither Zayne nor Cenebrous had any heart in the shock they felt. Just another drop in the endless mysteries that consumed whatever creature that they were trapped inside.

  However, Zayne felt the cold wrap and swallow him as he looked at the one furthest from where they stood, peering down at them. It looked exactly like the valiant hero that had been depicted back at the shrine. But no longer did the statue appear perfect and mighty.

  Instead, realistic carvings of stone maggots swarmed most of his face, eating into the flesh and leaving behind a husk devoured of its stature.

  He approached the marble, ready to see what message awaited him this time.

  So, the god that the shrine was worshipping, wasn’t even a god at all? There were a lot more than four Celestials, and none of them had any of these names. Zayne wondered if that meant the Celestials never existed in the first place. The mortal taint line was what really caught his attention. The way the maggots were shaped, he couldn’t help but shoot a look at the mark on Cenebrous’s cheek.

  Then the old man joined him, and Zayne immediately glanced over to see if he had any sort of reaction.

  Not even a trace flickered over his dry, cracked lips. The woman bound to him on the other hand, had a distinct look of revulsion. That did not stop him from pushing her onto the marble, encircling the chains in a manoeuvre that kept her in place. A single hand gestured for the others to get away.

  Cenebrous refused.

  It was like a bone had snapped within him, as he drew into a shaky stance.

  “Don’t.” Zayne tried to warn him.

  “I have had enough of being manipulated by you. No longer will I allow this travesty to happen. My skill with the blade may not help me, but this is a holy place. The gods will grant me the strength to defeat your Flawed skill.”

  Another manic laugh escaped the old man.

  “Zayne, friend, we can make the rest of this together. He may be able to defeat me, but with the stone, there is no chance that we can lose!”

  Zayne did not trust the Flawed, even when Cenebrous had acted like a devoted servant begging for help. Now, the fool had changed sides, right when the old man would be of the most help. He hated how righteous the guy had suddenly become, even when he had been a helpless coward earlier. Like some sort of knight saving the fair maiden.

  He settled on a decision.

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  “Hand me the sword. I’ll take care of it. Stand behind me.”

  A grateful, believing nod came from the fool as he willingly handed over the sword, believing Zayne’s skill to be far superior. He seized the hilt and smacked the idiot with the wooden tip as hard as he could. Cenebrous collapsed, dazed, muttering something inaudible before falling unconscious.

  “There you go. You owe me for this old man. I hope whatever you’re doing is to help us get out of here.”

  The Flawed turned back around, not even acknowledging his betrayal. Zayne felt annoyance, but tempered it down. Instead, he pulled out the locket that had been amongst the dead, using the time to examine it closer.

  At first glance, it appeared perfectly ordinary. Zayne tried to prise it open, but his nails met some sort of barrier. So, it clearly had something special inside. He tucked it away inside, heaving the body of Cenebrous towards the marble stone. For all his faults, he was surprisingly light to carry.

  Zayne peered over to see what the old man was doing, and flinched at the blood being smeared in patterns upon the marble piece. He reminded himself that none of this was real, feeling the tired desire to sleep infiltrate his thoughts.

  Surely it would be over soon. Whoever had to die, so be it.

  The woman seemed to have fallen still, contorting slowly, as blood continued to drip. One drop at a time. Slow, and comforting.

  He placed the stone by his feet, waiting.

  The more he waited, the more he felt a nudge in his mind. Like a whisper, lost in the drowning lull in his head. No, everything was perfect. It was all going exactly the way he intended it to. He had made the right choice.

  His hands happened to slip off the stone, and reality rushed back to him. Zayne glanced up, terror gripping him in its entirety. Taking in the scrawled pattern bleeding onto engraved marble letters.

  But it was too late.

  The stone underneath him cracked, and a crimson smoke devoured the world. Billowing wisps took shape. At the same time, a rumble thundered past the chasm and cracked open the elegant arches from above. Divine might burned from the bloody ritual, taking the shape of a terrifying ghoul that arose as if sum summoned from the hells.

  Long trails coated its wings, bearing talons, sweeping upwards into the old man’s grasp. Zayne saw the shattering of debris, and the collapse from above, and ran forward, unable to do anything but leap as far as he could.

  Everything fell apart.

  The entire world shifted onto its axis, drenched in smoke, rock and blood.

  He was drowning, thrashing, feeling a weight burden him, yet he did not stop the endless plummet.

  Then, the swoop of solid feathers, and Zayne was flying.

  He felt his insides lurch, and flip over, but was somehow still alive. His eyes slowly adjusted to the haze, and saw the familiar leer bore into his own, hands outstretched in overbearing joy even as an avalanche poured all around them.

  “Thank you.” a tongue slithered out from the deformed hand that had shook him so much, and began to speak, a guttural growl amongst the chaos, “My dear, beautiful blemish.”

  His thanks was the last thing that Zayne wanted to hear. He crawled upwards, in a feat of pure defiance, wrath pooling in his eyes.

  “So, this was all part of your stupid game? Manipulate me using the stone. Bring this entire place crashing down!”

  Everything snapped into place. He had been used. The stone’s influence had torn his rebellion straight out of him, allowing him to feel like he was in control, false power granting him fake confidence. This couldn’t be human.

  “None of this is real.” his heart chilled, hearing his own wish spoken by the Flawed, “This is all just a beautiful, macabre dream. Everything is . There is a reason that only you and I were left without chains. They are merely facsimiles of failures. Ones that could not forge through this trial, and was slaughtered in their pathetic greed. You, dear Flaw, are the champion that prevailed. I cannot be in more debt to your existence.”

  His mind went blank.

  The roar of the tumultuous explosion finally seemed to come to an end, as the bird-like monstrosity jolted in collision with the ground below. Above, a brilliant black heart exposed the thousands of cocoons that were splattered across the floor. Holding a human speck emerging from within.

  “Claim your reward, Champion. For your efforts, release your hold. Don’t you wish to be free? Escape from the binds of the curse that was forced upon you. All you have to do is let go.”

  A pull inside him revealed the truth of what he was hearing. The Flawed gaped, still beaming in his victory.

  Zayne clutched the sword in his hand, aching from the confusion churning within him. The last hour since he made contact with the stone felt like a haze. He had allowed for both Cenebrous and the woman to die. Whatever was happening here was , he could feel it in his blood. Even if he barely understood the implications.

  But he had come here to claim the Inheritance. To refuse what the Brand wanted to force upon him. This was way out of his reach, a problem that he couldn’t be asked to deal with. He was not going to act like a martyr and die for nothing. There wasn’t a single self-sacrificing drop within his entire body.

  “Fuck you.” he pointed a rude finger at the old man, before giving in.