Page 11 of Prince of the Phantom Sky

“This is not me. They have come, they are awakening you.” To Kora’s surprise, Thanos enveloped her in his embrace, shrouding her in his grey veil as her body alighted with cold, slick pain. “Hold on to your life . . . Kora. I have enjoyed our time.”

She screamed as Thanos’ embrace faded and she plummeted into the darkness of the void, falling from the light of the forest he’d created. The collar wrapped around her throat iced over, freezing her windpipe. Her fists clenched, and she flinched as flashes of cold and hot swarmed, encasing her in a bubble, followed by the scraping of her bones, and the dryness of her skin cracking.

Her scream faded, as a new light blinded her and the horror of what had been done to her body slammed into her. Kora groaned, as her eyelids slit open, hissing at the onslaught of senses . . . followed by a male with a pair of emerald eyes and raven black hair.

5

Kora

Is she awake yet?”

Slick, tar-like dread washed over Kora as her eyelids scraped open like sandpaper. A hacking cough followed, and dust blew from her lips, soil tumbling from her dry skin. Pale, shaking hands hovered over her, the fingers dusted brown as a gentle green light bathed her body.

Thirsty. She was so thirsty.

“Blake.” Footsteps neared, Barron’s voice cracking like a cannon boom. “We need to speed this along.”

Oh gods.

That mop of raven hair leaned over, and Blake’s sharp features contorted as his green eyes burned, droplets of sweat dampening strands of his hair. Kora gasped, resulting in another coughing fit that seared her lungs.

The sight of him. Her heart ached viciously, and she internally damned herself for seeking signs of a fresh wedding band upon his hand.

“I . . . it’s too much. She was under for too long. I’ve never desiccated someone for more than a few days. I can’t replenish her.” Blake strained, his throat bobbing as his arms shook, his jaw grounding so much his teeth cracked, and Kora moaned from the agony of her bones scraping.

“Blake . . .” she wheezed.

“Nonsense,” Barron snapped, appearing over Blake’s shoulder. Kora’s gut twisted, and warmth leaked down her legs as his thunderous eyes came into view, followed by his sharp smile. “She’s looking better already. Get her up, I want to see how her power’s doing.”

As her muscles stretched and spasmed, her joints cracking and adjusting, Blake shifted Kora’s limp body until her burning, torn back scraped the rough of a tree trunk. He carefully placed her head back, his cool palm brushing the side of her face, causing a river of pain to flash from her temple to her neck. Kora tried her best to glare at him, but her skin was too dry, her muscles too weak, her organs too shrivelled.

She almost wished to return to the void. To feel the strength of her muscles once again, even if it hadn’t been real. She inhaled shakily, catching whiffs of damp soil, moss, and leather. Not a hint of fresh, salted air. The Emerald Forest was dark and threatening, unlike Thanos’ sparkling green and brown mirage.

“Raiden!”

Silence answered.

“Raiden! I’m here! Please!” Kora strained, firstly away from the treacherous leech next to her, but secondly from sheer, devastating desperation to call to Raiden. She had no idea how this strange connection between them worked.

“Answer me, you giant Galenite!”

In her efforts, Kora hacked another cough, her skull crushing her aching mind as dried strands of hair unstuck from her neck. Blake gently peeled them away, splotches of crusted mud tumbling down her body. His gaze followed it, darkening the lower it went.

Fuck this.

“How . . .” she gasped, struggling to inhale air, as if her lungs were full of cobwebs. “Long . . . has it . . .” Her dry tongue scraped the roof of her mouth as her teeth slowly reformed.

“Thirty-six days,” Blake answered gravelly.

Thirty. Six. Days. Raiden hadn’t found her. Had he even heard her call? Had he been searching, or had they all abandoned her? The damp, distant panic Kora had kept at bay within the void surged and she hissed at Blake’s response. Gone was his power-hungry gleam, his delirious obsession and brooding nature. A husk of a male stared back at her, pale and gaunt, embodying the lie he had told, about his past.

Karma was a bitch.

“A glorious month for the empire,” Barron chimed, rocking on his heels.

Kora swivelled, her neck cracking as she surveyed the familiar clearing. Fragments of Thanos’ in-between danced amongst the trees, her eyes tricking her to believe his stone chair existed by the singular beam of light, instead of a collection of boulders. To her left, a row of death lined the passageway back to the Citadel. A black stain upon nature.

Barron approached his guards, devilishly smiling as his magic pooled around him, splotches of shadowed tar trailing behind his footsteps. His attire was all-black and tightly fitted. The Talmon Empire insignia had vanished, and instead he donned a wispy black crown that wove through the strands of his long hair.