“Strike her, paladin.”
The word clanged through the frozen air, tensing every muscle in Nora’s body.
Something cold and metallic slammed into her jaw. Stars sparked across her vision, and she saw double for several long seconds. A rope of blue flames kept her from falling out of the wood chair she was tied to.
Azureflame rope.
Just dandy.
This was a Fateweavers staple, an expensive and precious detaining item that bound her not just physically, but magically.
Consciousness ebbed and flowed as she blinked out the stars that filled her vision. She immediately regretted it. A figure stood in front of her, though she was a mirage of silk and clacking bones.
Where—, Nora tried to think, but the omen of pain returned.
“The chest this time.”
The steely instrument smashed into her exposed chest, her flesh bruising against the wet impact. Her ribs strained against the punishment, but she gritted her teeth through the pain. Through the confusion.
Through the dread.
“Missed a spot,” Nora hissed through bloodied teeth at her tormentor.
Another strike, this one to her kneecap.
There was a soft splatter of liquid against the stony ground underfoot, and Nora felt bile rise up her throat when she noticed small pieces attached to the captor’s gauntleted fist.
She could barely breathe, much less focus on what was going on. Nora caught brief glimpses of her surroundings. Clay pots. Glass roof. The smell of rich soil and blossoming herbs and flowers. Blue flames licking at her skin from the ropes that bound her. The iron tang of blood in her mouth and nose.
Pain.
She knew it well. She considered it one of her oldest friends and recognized it in its many, many, forms.
This pain was twofold. The first was the sizzling pain of that infamous blue-flame rope. It dug into her body as well as her magical pathways, blocking them and causing pressure to grow inside of her. Fortunately, she only had a silver core, otherwise the draining of her magic and strength would’ve been much worse.
The other pain was what she saw in her periphery. It nagged at her mind for attention, but a part of her knew that the second she turned that faint awareness to conscious thought, her world would fall apart. But like the first pain, she knew that facing it was far preferable to ignoring it outright.
She would not be afraid. She would never let fear control her again.
She looked.
Evie hung suspended by thick iron manacles inside a cage made of gold. Its bars extended upward where they bent and curved into a cylindrical center. She knew the shape, recognizing it immediately. Nora wanted to scream obscenities at her captors for this petty insult. For this injustice.
Evie—her Evie—was locked inside a bird cage.
“You like that?” Morana inquired as she sauntered forward from the shadows.
The raised garden bed where she leaned possessed a dozen different species of flowers and herbs. A greenhouse, Nora realized. They were in some abandoned greenhouse. And given the obsession this city had with all things that grow, she doubted anyone would find them here…
…Wherever here was.
Morana’s revealing dress remained unmarked and unblemished, which contrasted her tormentor’s bloodied garbs in every conceivable way. The clouds above the greenhouse shifted, and the moon’s light illuminated Lyla, covered in Nora’s blood.
“I thought it fitting.” Morana’s husky voice was like a dagger’s tip sliding across her exposed neck. “Justice for the deserving, isn’t it? This is what you do to bad Birdies, after all.”
“You’ve made quite a name for yourself, traitor.” Lyla flicked her wrist, and the gauntlet she wore relinquished some of the gore it possessed. “I’ve got to admit it feels good seeing you like this, Lancaster.”
It was only then that Nora noticed the full absence of her clothes, blade, or any covering at all. It was just her, the enchanted ropes, and the wooden chair that dug into her back.
She tried to curse, but her split lip made it difficult. Still, she decided it was worth the effort. Her dark brown eyes glared at Lyla with enough ferocity to shatter mountains.
“Damn you, Lyla. Damn you!” The words felt good, even if the pain they caused in her mouth didn’t.
Morana laughed at her defiance like it was cute to watch. “Oh, don’t be like that, Nora! You knew this would come, didn’t you?”
The dark siren prowled around the cage, her raven ring clinking against the gold bars in a haunting rhythm. Evie didn’t stir. Nora had known this foul oracle had always been cruel, but prolonged exposure to Scorn’s influence couldn’t have improved that malicious streak. Now, without the oversight of the Fateweavers, Morana was unhinged. Untethered.
And that made her all the more dangerous.
“What did you expect? To remain anonymous while you fought in front of tens of thousands of eager and interested people?” Morana drawled and clicked her tongue. “Did you think that your descriptions weren’t relayed to every Fateweaver branch on the continent the same day you decided to disrupt fate?”
Scorn’s oracle strode forward and leaned over Nora’s bruised form. She used a perfectly manicured finger to tuck some of Nora’s hair behind her ear. The paladin tried to bite off the invading limb, but her restraints were too tight.
With every breath she took, the blue flames ate away at her core’s reserves. She was fading, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.
“How arrogant do you have to be to think that fighting in the thrice-cursed Tournament of Life was the best way to gain enough clout to either evade or overcome us? Did you even look into how few have survived these bloody trials?” Morana asked, and she laughed at Nora’s fiery glare.
“Mind if I get back to my fun?” Lyla asked impatiently.
The blue and white Fateweaver emblem on her chest plate was stained with red. Morana stood to her full height and traced a raven-beak ring across Nora’s torn cheeks.
“Don’t rush,” Morana requested sweetly. “I want her to be alive just long enough for her to see me remove Evie’s will.”
As she said this, Morana pulled a vial from a thin leather pouch set onto a nearby workbench. Other vials glowed softly as the moon arced its path across the sky overhead.
“Trust me. I won’t,” Lyla promised, and she raised her fist. “Now, tell me. Where is Wavebreaker?”
For some reason, the threatening question was hilarious to Nora. She laughed, knowing the truth would just sound like defiance, but she gave it anyway.
“A lake ate it. Good luck getting it back.” Nora smiled, her teeth dyed with her own blood.
Lyla cursed and punched so hard that Nora nearly fell unconscious all over again. She clung onto her senses just long enough to see Morana drip a vial into Evie’s blurry form.
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Her best friend gagged and tried to spit it out, swinging wildly as she dangled from her chains, but Morana gripped her chin with shocking strength. Evie struggled for a few more moments before she couldn’t hold back anymore.
“What did you give her?!” Nora screamed, though her voice sounded distant to her own ears.
Lyla punched again.
Her vision swam with red. It was all that she could see. Morana playfully tilted the golden cage, slowly swinging Evie’s limp form.
“What did you give her?!” Nora roared.
“Oh, just a little something made for sirens who disobey.” Morana’s smile was bone-chilling. “It takes a little while to work, but it’s worth the wait. Destiny commanded me to make it some time ago so that he could eke out the truth from his naughty children like Evie here.”
Nora threw herself forward, but the chair and ropes kept her from doing more than moving an inch closer to her companion. Lyla’s fist slammed into her sternum, metal biting into bone and skin with ease.
“Where is Wavebreaker?!” Lyla demanded hotly.
Morana met her gaze while she ignored Lyla’s silent demand to shut up. “Your little Birdie is coming back with us, Nora Lancaster. And by the time I’m done, she’ll be an obedient little thing, unable to do anything but what we tell her. Sit here, prophecy there. You know the drill. Then Prosperity can finally get his new pet.”
Nora could see it now—Evie forced to become a shade of who she once was. Subservient. Docile. No more racing through flower beds after midnight. No more songs about rivers or bears, or ridiculous metaphors, or giggles beneath her pillow forts.
No more laughter.
Color drained from Nora’s vision, and a cold chill crawled up her spine that had nothing to do with her nakedness.
Her eyes went blank. Lyla punched her in the face with a wicked haymaker, but she hardly noticed. The blue flames that licked across her bare skin flickered slightly. More color drained from the environment.
It started on the edges of this abandoned greenhouse. Flowers lost their various shades of pinks and yellow and purples. Their green stalks turned gray, but they didn’t wither.
No.
The color wasn’t fading.
It was fleeing.
Nora finally relinquished her decade-long hold on her core entirely. Even when Evie had been kidnapped, she had only let out a small portion of its power. She had kept it subdued. Hidden.
No more.
Nora had refused to assist its growth for so long, terrified of both where it came from as much as what it meant that she had it. Still, the traitorous core had grown. It was like an endless ocean of power, though her core could only use a tiny morsel at a time. The vastness of what it could grow to be was almost as daunting as the power itself.
As well as what answered her call each time it slipped out of her.
But the time for half measures was long gone. Nora’s eyes fixated on Morana. The dark siren giggled while she spun Evie’s loose form in circles. The power in her continued to spread, copper tendrils interlaced with a few flashes of silver the only indicator that she was casting her magic.
Nora didn’t look away this time. She didn’t clench her eyes to the horror she knew she was about to unleash. She wouldn’t repeat her mistakes that day nearly a decade ago. She would face it. She would meet that abyssal gaze again if it meant she could save Evie from this fate.
The blue flames flickered again, this time enough for Lyla to halt in her vengeful barrage on Nora’s body.
“What are you doing, Lancaster? Stop it!” Lyla twisted her hips and landed a vicious uppercut into Nora’s jaw.
Her teeth rattled in her mouth, and her head whipped backward. Still, she clung onto her consciousness like a drowning woman clutching a shard of lumber. She would not fail now.
Morana finally noticed Nora’s attention and turned slowly on her heels. In the darkness, the wind that blew through this encapsulated environment felt unnatural. Forced.
Stars above began to blink furiously as power started to escape Evie’s form, only to be absorbed by Morana. The dark siren moaned in ecstasy as Evelyn’s magic was drained. It exited Evie’s gaping mouth in slow droves, bits of gold and copper wisps fleeing with it. Though it was hard to tell in the poor light, Nora thought Evie looked more gaunt than she ever had.
That was the final straw.
Nora's gaze finally locked onto Lyla, the world around them bleeding into monochromatic shades of gray. The vibrant life of the greenhouse faded, leaving only stark shadows and ghostly silhouettes. Lyla's chest plate rose and fell in rapid succession, sweat caking her sharp features. The blood staining her jerkin appeared black as pitch in this colorless realm.
“What... what are you?” Lyla whispered, her face a mask of abject terror.
The blue flames that had bound Nora flickered and died, plunging the greenhouse into an unnatural darkness. But for Nora, the darkness held no secrets. Her awakened core granted her sight beyond sight, revealing a world writhing with shadowy tendrils and whispers from beyond the veil.
She inhaled slowly, the air thick with the acrid scent of fear and decay. The ropes, now devoid of their magical essence, went loose. Her blood-soaked body became far more exposed, but she didn’t care. Modesty was a distant concern, overshadowed by the all-consuming need to reach the golden cage where her purpose hung suspended.
Nora rose, her movements fluid and unnatural. The dozens of wounds that marred her flesh screamed in protest, but pain was a mere whisper compared to the roaring tempest of power surging through her veins. Each step she took left ghostly afterimages, as if reality itself struggled to contain her presence.
She glided towards the frozen Lyla, who stood transfixed like prey before a predator. The golden paladin's eyes darted wildly across Nora's form, taking in the ripped flesh, the bruises that seemed to pulse with an inner darkness, and the ethereal quality that clung to her like a shroud.
“You're a—” Lyla sputtered, her feet scrabbling backwards on the stone floor. “You’re a Dreadcaller.”
The word hung in the air, a name Nora had buried deep within the recesses of her soul. It clawed its way out of Lyla's throat, a curse that seemed to darken the very air around them, her eyes wide with recognition as she stared into the bottomless void of Nora's gaze.
In a movement too swift for mortal eyes to follow, Nora's hand shot forward. Her thumb pressed against Lyla's forehead, fingers splayed across the paladin's skull like the legs of a spider.
Nora was the Dreadcaller awakened, a force of nature unleashed upon the world, and she was far from finished.
“Scream.”
Nora's voice was a symphony of terror, a cacophony of otherworldly whispers and screams layered beneath her own. The command reverberated through the air, shaking the very foundations of reality.
Power surged from Nora's core, a tidal wave of shadow and malice that crashed into Lyla's mind. It was more than magic; it was the essence of nightmares given form, the embodiment of every primal fear that lurked in the darkest corners of the soul.
Inky tendrils of darkness lanced from Nora's palm, seeping into every orifice of Lyla's face. They slithered into her eyes, turning the whites to pools of midnight. They wormed their way into her ears, filling her head with the maddening whispers of ancient, forgotten entities. They forced their way past her lips and nostrils, a violating intrusion that tainted her very breath with the essence of dread.
The air around them grew heavy, reality itself seeming to warp and twist under the onslaught of Nora's unleashed power. Shadows danced and writhed on the walls, taking on monstrous forms that leered at the edges of perception. The temperature plummeted, frost forming on the nearby plants as they withered and died, their life force sucked away by the vacuum of Nora's magic.
A small part of Nora recoiled at the sheer vileness of what she was doing, at the violation of natural law and human will. But that voice was drowned out by the roaring tide of power and purpose that consumed her.
In this moment, she was more than human, more than a mere magic user. She was a conduit for forces beyond mortal comprehension, an avatar of terror itself.
Lyla's scream was a thing of pure, unadulterated horror. It started as a high-pitched wail of fear and quickly devolved into something inhuman, a sound that no mortal should be capable of producing. It echoed through the greenhouse, shattering glass and causing the very stones to tremble.
As the scream faded, replaced by the pitiful whimpers of a mind pushed beyond its breaking point, Nora stood unmoved. Her black eyes, bottomless pools of night, reflected no emotion.
“Run,” Nora ordered. “Run away, little coward.”
Nora could instinctively feel her voice take hold of her enemy’s mind. While she couldn’t see the nightmares that were emerging in Lyla’s vision, she could easily sense the fear they caused. She let go of the paladin’s head and flicked a clawed hand to the side. Lyla wailed until her voice cracked, and she scrambled in the direction Nora waved.
The paladin ran like the coward she was, and Nora couldn’t have cared less where the broken woman went.
Silvery tendrils smoked off her body as Nora turned her attention to the gold cage. Morana was nowhere to be seen, nor was the leather pouch filled with those cursed vials. She stumbled toward her limp friend, the fight exiting her bones as rapidly as it had arrived.
She hated herself for delaying, but she did a small circuit around the greenhouse just to guarantee the dark siren was truly gone. She saw her clothes and sword propped against one of the doors leading out of this place, but she only grabbed her sword. Finally armed, she walked over to the birdcage and threw the golden gate open, the metal creaking ominously as she entered.
With what remained of her strength, she swung at the iron chains. A mighty crash echoed throughout the glass greenhouse, followed by a heavy clang as Nora dropped her sword. She caught Evie with her, and the two of them collapsed to the ground.
Smoke continued to pour from Evie’s mouth, and she was paler than ever under the moonlight. Nora brushed her friend’s hair behind her ears and cooed softly. The siren’s pulse was slow and erratic, but at least it was still there.
Moreover, the mist that had once flowed out of her mouth now flowed back in, and it was clear that Morana’s magic couldn’t work without her close by. Evie would get to keep not just her life, but her laughter.
Thank the gods.
“It’s okay, Birdie. I’ve got you,” Nora repeated over and over again as she stroked Evelyn’s hair. The ropes that still clung to the worn edges of her body did little to prevent the cold bite of wind that swept through the greenhouse
The siren stirred a little but did not wake. Nora leaned back against the gold bars and closed her eyes. With her final breaths before darkness overtook her, she prayed that it wasn’t too late to save Evie’s will.
As long as the siren was able to live her life—her joy, her laughter, her songs—every ounce of pain Nora endured was worth it.
Nora’s eyes closed and color returned to this forgotten corner of the world. At long last, the nightmare was over, even if ending it had cost Nora her life.
What's your favorite part of Nora's dramatic reveal?
