Page 9 of Prince of the Phantom Sky

“Why?” she snapped. Why did a god care about her broken heart? Why did the god, the first god, desire to taunt her with memories of betrayal? Or force her into the recesses of her mind to the point of pain and sorrow consuming her so wholly, she no longer knew where she began and the darkness ended. “So I can fulfil Calypso’s plan? Why won’t you tell me what it is?”

Within the swirling grey of his hood, a pair of eyes flashed, barely discernible, but Kora caught the faint outline of black and white. And it scared her.

“As I said before, I do not interfere with another god’s will,” he rumbled, and the clearing shuddered, leaves falling from the canopy of trees.

“Or will you not interfere with Calypso? You’re the God of Death. You are the foundation of life and everything in-between. What hold does she bear over you?”

“Enough!” He stood, towering over Kora. His height stretched and stretched, until he was the size of a mountain. The clearing rippled, acclimating to his sheer size. Kora reined in her scream, craning into her stone chair as a mere inhale from Thanos cracked her hearing in two. “I do not need to be here, Kordelia Jones. I can take this all away and leave you to wither in your rotting body.” She winced at the volume of his voice, a ringing filling her ears.

“Good, maybe I’ll die quicker!”

Thanos paused, his form slowly shrinking down until he matched Kora in height. She ignored the sting of her previous name. She hadn’t had the chance to unpack that she was the daughter of Davy Jones yet. Nope. Another heartbreak, another betrayal she tucked away into the shadows of her mind.

“Is that your plan? To rest with me in Umbra?” he spoke softly.

“I’m good as dead anyway. I’ve been in Blake’s prison for too long, I’ve spent more time in the void than any alive person should. You said my time was coming, just let it be now.” Kora shrugged, dampening the distant panic, the small splinter within her that still begged for life.

Thanos sat back, his faceless form observing quietly as he drummed his elongated fingers against the simple stone. Memories of the Eternal Tryk filled the space between them, of Kora begging him to end her life, to take it away. All too soon, they’d returned to this impasse, except this time, deflation filled Kora, an emptiness hollowing out her drained essence until she no longer cared.

“I may welcome all souls into my realm, but I’m not ready to welcome you yet,” Thanos said. “Your destiny is already in motion, and you will meet your fate at the hands of your own.”

“I know,” Kora sobbed, tears tracking down her cheeks once again. She hadn’t cried this much since the slaughter of exiles she’d so willingly committed. “You recite it every time we meet.”

“I do not wish to see you cry, it pains me.”

“Then take my pain away to spare yours.”

Thanos sighed. Such a human reaction for a god, and Kora wiped her nose, frowning at his sudden sincerity. Was he like this with all mortals? Did he strive to reassure them all? Or was it her connection to Calypso that made her special?

“I cannot, my dear. But I can offer you something else instead.” Thanos’ hood shifted, and the outline of his eyes appeared. Blazing black lined by gleaming white. “I want to play a game, any game. If I win, you will live. If you win, then you may die.”

4

Kora

Apparently, a game of cribbage in the void lasted forever. Kora beamed with smugness when Thanos had presented the board and pegs, along with familiar golden coins to place their bets. She’d ignored the exploding pain in her chest as memories of lost faces surfaced, and the strange prickle racing across her skin whenever she touched a coin.

She’d become convinced Thanos was purposely taunting her, creating visions of Finlay, Samuel, and Aryn to appear within the shadows surrounding them. An ink-tattooed arm flashed in the corner, followed by a twinkling star and a golden arrow. Like clockwork, appearing on rotation in a circular pattern around them.

Yes, it was definitely Thanos’ doing.

“Your turn,” Thanos nudged, as he sat back with his shining pile of coins resting by his elbow. Glistening in the single beam of sunlight, the rays bounced off the intricately etched metal.

Kora hummed, tapping her chin as she browsed her cards. Where had she seen those coins before? The edges reminded her of filigree, or curling patterns of the wind and ocean, before meeting sharp lines in the centre.

Swirling gold coins dizzied her, followed by the repetitive three visions in the forest. Round and round it went, endlessly and thoughtlessly. Kora flexed her fingers, her knuckles cracking and she winced at their stiffness. How long had she been sat here?

“Are you losing interest? We can always stop the game.” A hint of a smile appeared within the dark of his hidden face. Who knew the gods would have such white, straight teeth? A smile that could dazzle . . . or blind a mortal.

“Don’t start playing games within games,” Kora muttered. The god shifted, growing visibly impatient as she mindlessly stared at the cards in her hands, unable to comprehend the shapes as they blurred together.

How long had they been playing this game? Had it been sunny the whole time? Her eyes flickered behind Thanos and her throat dried. The dark green canopy surrounding them had faded, blending into muted browns. Leaves steadily curled and fell to the laden ground.

“Is it autumn already?” she whispered, her hands shaking as another leaf drifted to the dried moss bed followed by the glint of a spyglass by a trunk.

“I have no concept of time,” Thanos replied, the amusement in his tone sapped and replaced with power. “You mortals focus on the cycle of life far too much, so much so that you have created periods of time and seasons to mark when nature dies and blooms again, yet it does so continuously, in an infinite cycle. You also have an obsession with age that I do not understand.”

“How long have I been here?” Kora pushed as more leaves trailed around them, leaving a winding path of brown. A barely perceptible crunch followed as a pair of legs disappeared into the forest, a broadsword dragging through the foliage behind them.