Savior of the Damned

August 1st

Phaedra sat in her room, feeling beat down. New clothes had replaced the old ones, and she rolled her tight shoulders, trying to relax. Making sure she was alone, Phaedra reached under her shirt and pulled out the Godstone. Every one that existed looked different. Each one had its own story, too. Looking at the crystal that enclosed a leaf with what looked like a caterpillar, she wondered what this one was for. They were supposed to birth gods—or so the rumors went—and it was hard to say just by looking at it. Orso wouldn’t have gifted it if he didn’t think it was important. Especially not by risking Eldren’s life like that.

A knock sounded at her door, and she slipped the ’stone under her shirt as Demeter came in.

“Hey, long time no see,” Phaedra quipped as Demeter let herself into Phaedra’s room. It had been ages. Whatever her new duties were, Aurelius had been keeping her busy, leaving Demeter no time for Phaedra.

“I’m concerned for you, sister,” Demeter said. “Is it really so hard to adapt? We don’t have a choice anymore.”

“No. There is always a choice.”

“I just want to make sure you’re safe,” Demeter said. “You’re my baby sister, after all, and you’ve been through so much.”

“Well, what about you? Surely he’s no better with you.”

“He treats me fine.”

Something about that bothered Phaedra, but Demeter had never been one to buck command. Their Temple duties hardly ever overlapped, but people often told Phaedra how much of a joy Demeter was to work with. It was feedback that Phaedra herself never got. She has to survive somehow. Playing nice with murderous necromancers is up her alley.

“All I want is for you to be okay. I know obeying orders isn’t your strong suit. I just hate to see something happen to you.”

Something in Phaedra folded, and she caught her breath to keep from crying. “I’ll be okay,” Phaedra said.

“I’ll be bringing more orders to you soon. Just play nice. I hate to see you get hurt.” And with that, Demeter slipped out the door.

Phaedra pulled the ’stone out to look at it again. It was lovely, in its own way, but she had no idea how to use it. She was contemplating what to do with it when she felt more than heard someone approach, and she dropped the chain over her head as she stood. Phaedra opened the door to see Torin standing there, looking nervous. “May I come in?” he asked. “I brought some wine.”

Phaedra eyed him, wary, but stepped back. He came in, holding a wine bottle and two glasses. “I wanted to apologize for my brusque behavior,” he said, looking around. “I forgot how hard it is to adapt to life here.”

“It’s fine,” she said, moving deeper into the room and sitting down at the table, facing the door. Torin sat down with her, putting down the objects in his hands. He glanced at Phaedra before pouring some wine into each glass. Phaedra took one, waiting for Torin to sip it before tasting it herself. It was thick and sweet, sweeter than she was used to.

“You’re different from everyone else,” he said finally, startling Phaedra.

“What?”

“You’re not like anyone else he’s taken. You’ve preserved more hope than most of the rest of us.”

Phaedra paused at that. “You all just gave up?” she asked.

“Not much else to do. Nowhere to escape to, no way to escape. Death is a mercy we’ve all been denied.” Phaedra looked at Torin’s face, so closed and drawn, and felt a flutter of sympathy as she touched her own scarred throat. “But you . . . you act like this is just a temporary inconvenience. At first, I resented it, but maybe I gave up too fast.”

“What can I possibly do to change the fate of everyone here?”

Torin shook his head. “Not everyone. He has enough supporters here that would never betray him.” Phaedra didn’t dare break the silence. “There is no escaping. But when I look at you . . .” he looked at her, making eye contact. The hope that sparked deep within their light blue depths mesmerized Phaedra. “You make me think maybe it’s not over.”

Phaedra took a sip of wine and thought. “I’m worried I won’t hold up to expectations,” she admitted. “I don’t even know where I’d start.” She knew very little about necromancy. The little she knew was that they were conduits for Aurelius’s power, flowing from him to them and back. She’d need to interrupt that power flow, but how?

“Terra to Phaedra,” Torin said, laughing, causing her to snap to attention. “You drifted off. I figured you could drink me under the table before, but if that little bit’s gone to your head already, well, it’s a surprise.”

Phaedra felt her face grow hot. “Sorry. Was thinking.”

“I was wondering if I could ask where you learned magic from?” he asked.

Phaedra eyed him. “I learned at Temple. Also, we went over this.”

Torin grunted. “Didn’t know Temple ever spawned anyone like you. Demeter certainly doesn’t hold a candle to your skills.”

“Demeter didn’t take to it the way the rest of us did.” At Torin’s confused expression, Phaedra explained, “Most of the guards and magi Temple turns out are orphans who wind up going to them for shelter. It’s part of the cost. They’ll take care of you, but you have to learn a skill. Demeter was chosen to be the one to save us all and had different lessons. Eldren got chosen to be an engineer, and they selected me for magic and fighting. They wanted me to be a priest, but I wasn’t having it. It wasn’t interesting.”

Torin looked deep into his glass. “I didn’t have friends to learn with. Cristiano felt it would be too distracting, so he apprenticed me alone.”

Something tickled the back of Phaedra’s mind. She set her glass down and reached out for Torin’s hand, grasping it. She opened her mouth to reassure him and suddenly she was being held down, a hot iron held to her shoulder. The smell of burning flesh filled her nostrils as she screamed in a voice not her own. Shaking herself, she looked at Torin as she let him go. “Why did he brand you?” she asked.

Torin stiffened. “So I’d never forget where I came from and who I owe it to.”

“And he let you die?”

“He killed me himself, because Aurelius wanted a magic user for his own devices.” His face closed down and he drained his glass.

Fuck. He told me this, and I forgot. “I’m sorry Torin—”

“It’s nothing you did,” he said curtly. “And it was a long time ago, anyway.” Torin poured another glass and took a big gulp of wine, hand lingering on the bottle. “Take me with you when you go,” he asked, words slurring around the edges. “Because I know you’re not staying here. Not with us, not forever.”

“What makes you think that?” Phaedra asked.

“Because I know you’re wearing a Godstone around your neck,” he said, voice almost too low to hear. “So, unless you want things to go south, really quick, I suggest you listen.”

Phaedra grabbed him by the collar, causing his eyes to open wide. “How do you know?” she asked, voice dripping with acid even as her hands tingled.

Torin eyed her. “I was there when you got it, remember?” He held a hand up. “I’m not turning you in. I want you to understand that now.”

“Then what do you want?” Phaedra hated how tired, how beaten she sounded. She let him go, watching as he smoothed his collar back into place.

“I want out. I want you to take me with you.” Torin met her gaze, something hard and unyielding in his eyes. “I’m not the only one who’s tried to leave, to escape, either.”

“I don’t even know how to use it,” Phaedra whispered. “How can I take you with me when I can’t use it to even free myself?”

“Let me see it,” he said. “I’m The Magus, remember? Maybe I can help.”

Phaedra froze, torn. The jig was up, but it felt so final to consider drawing the necklace over her head and passing it over. After what felt like eons, she reached under her shirt and almost ripped it off. Resisting the urge to chuck it at him, she instead handed it over. The ’stone, like every other time she’d held it, was quiet in her hand as Torin took it. Phaedra’s stomach tightened, but it didn’t activate for him either. She watched, disappointed, as the clear stone that encased a caterpillar was as quiet for him as it was for her.

“It’s beautiful, but I have to admit I was expecting something-”

“More?” Phaedra asked, fighting a tired smile. “My reaction was the same.”

Torin handed it back, and Phaedra put it on, dropping the stone under her shirt again. “Were you told anything when he gave it to you?” he asked. Phaedra noted he didn’t say Eldren’s name.

“Just that the priest who gave it to Eldren said it was meant for me, or something along those lines.” Phaedra resisted the urge to grab it as she talked. “I have only the barest knowledge of them. I know different ones do different things, that some of them are tied to gods, but that’s it.”

“Aurelius killed the Gods when he came into being. I don’t know how,” he said, holding up a hand as Phaedra opened her mouth to ask just that. “I just know that they were what created the Gods. Lesser Hellgems differ from Godstones, they hold the souls of trapped malignant spirits. Aurelius has quite a few Hellgems, but they’re not what he’s looking for. He gives them out when he feels the men he’s sending need an extra boost of power.”

“What do they do?” She asked.

“Aurelius thinks the one he’s looking for will make him a God of Death. Do you know which one it is?”

“I have no idea. I’ve been trying to recall everything I learned about them, but I’m not coming up with much.” She hated how helpless she felt.

“That’s a shame. I figured if anyone would know it would be someone at Temple.”

Phaedra ran a hand through her hair. “They very well could. Keep in mind I never interacted with the higher ups aside from Orso and a couple of others. Not that it helps right now.”

Torin opened his mouth to say something and then closed it. Phaedra eyed him, wondering what he had been going to say. “Maybe we can take a minor detour when we go out next,” he said, voice pitched low. “If we’re going where I think we are, there is a place in the area we might find answers.”

Phaedra could feel her heartbeat in her throat. “What about Luca?” she asked, uncertain about the tall, quiet man.

Torin smiled faintly. It surprised Phaedra to see the light it gave his face. “You can trust him. He can be hard to put up with, but he’s not a bad guy. He’s just been at it longer than most.” His expression softened, his mouth curled up slightly at the corners, and Phaedra got a glimpse into him she wasn’t expecting. Then it was gone.

“Who predates him?” Phaedra asked.

“At this point? Pretty much only Aurelius’s generals. Everyone else died, though there weren’t many to begin with.”

“Is it that easy to die again?”

“You’re resistant to death, but not immune. Take enough damage or get hit by the right spell, and that’s it. There are fates worse than death, but death isn’t always the mercy it’s designed to be. I’d be careful if I were you. Just because there are worse things than dying doesn’t mean you won’t die by the end.” He caught Phaedra’s eyes; a look in them was so serious it made Phaedra swallow audibly. “Whatever you do, you don’t want to get caught.”