Bonds of the Fallen
Chapter 21

Bat wandered the winding path toward the city, her senses awakened and heightened by Moja’s training. A surge of sensations washed over her as she closed her eyes, taking in a deep lungful of the earthy forest air while the whisper of rustling leaves and melodic trill of bird songs serenaded her ears.

Opening her eyes, she found herself bathed in a shimmering sea of golden threads, each connecting the elements of her world in a complex, ever-changing tapestry of fate. Her gaze focused on a vibrant, glowing, threadlike molten gold as it snaked through the trees, beckoning her to follow its winding path.

Just as she was about to step forward, a voice sliced through the air, freezing her in place.

“Just the abomination I was searching for,” Rorick emerged from behind a tree, a sinister grin etched onto his face. “Lyell was quite the informant.”

Bat’s heart pounded in her chest. “If you so much as touched a hair on his head…”

Rorick’s eyes widened in mock horror, a hand pressed to his chest. “Who, me? Perish the thought. He was more than willing to lead me straight to you.”

“That’s a lie.”

Rorick gestured lazily around the forest. “And yet, here you stand before me. It’s almost as if the fates conspired to bring us together.”

“I don’t have time for this,” Bat snapped, the last rays of twilight casting shadows around them.

“Why the rush? I thought you’d want to hear what I have to say.”

“I’ve never cared for anything that’s come out of your mouth.”

Undeterred, Rorick blocked her path, a smug smile on his lips. “But I know where your mother is.”

The golden thread that connected them vibrated with a life of its own, pulling Bat towards him. “Then take me to her.”

“Hold your horses,” Rorick produced a length of rope from his waistband. “I can’t bring you to her without this.”

Bat recoiled. “You’re out of your mind.”

Rorick shrugged. “Do you want to see your mother or not? She’s alive, and she’s waiting for you. But first, I need to bind your hands.”

With a reluctant sigh, Bat held out her hands, the golden threads intertwining with the rope as it circled her wrists.

Rorick’s grin widened. “That wasn’t so hard, now was it? Don’t worry. I promised I wouldn’t hurt you.”

With a rough shove, he directed her in the opposite direction. “Where are we going?” she demanded.

“To meet your mother and the followers of the New God,” Rorick replied, the shadows swallowing them as they delved deeper into the forest.

Bat’s heart was a furious drumbeat in her chest as Rorick led her deeper into the forest, the intertwining golden threads that connected them pulsating with an evil energy that thrummed with every step she took. The shadows lengthened and grew more pronounced as the dense foliage overhead blocked out the sun’s rays. The air was thick with the rich, earthy scent of damp soil, and the rustling of leaves filled her ears.

The golden thread connecting her and Rorick throbbed faster, sending ripples of warning through her as they reached the city outskirts, the landscape gradually morphing into a rugged, mountainous terrain. The trail grew progressively steeper, winding its way through the thick underbrush of the mountain.

A hidden root caught Bat’s foot, causing her to stumble. Her body pitched forward, but Rorick’s hand clamped around her arm, pulling her upright.

“Watch your step,” he taunted, a wicked grin on his lips. “We’re almost there.”

Bat pulled her arm free, her eyes narrowing in distrust, but she pressed on. Now a beacon in the growing darkness, the golden thread pulled her toward whatever fate awaited her.

They stepped into a small clearing, the jagged rocks and boulders casting long shadows in the dim light. Figures in dark robes materialized from the surrounding trees, their faces hidden in the shadows, the flickering torches they held casting an eerie glow.

Bat felt a chill creep over her as she realized they were surrounded. The golden thread now vibrated with such intensity that it felt like it might snap at any moment.

“Welcome, Bat,” a familiar voice rang out from the shadows. “We’ve been expecting you.”

Selda emerged from the shadows, a twisted smile playing on her lips. Bat felt her knees give out as Rorick shoved her to the ground.

“Selda?” she choked out, her voice barely above a whisper, recognizing the woman from the registration center.

Selda flicked her hair over her shoulder, her eyes gleaming with malice. “I’m touched you remembered. After all, there was so much chaos that day.”

With a flourish, Selda motioned to two small children who emerged from the shadows, their faces pale and frightened. Bat felt her stomach churn as she recognized them from the day of the explosion.

Selda’s voice was dripping with venom as she spoke. “We saved them from the clutches of the Vampir center. Can’t have them growing up to be heretics, now can we?”

“Where is my mother?” Bat’s voice ripped through the thick forest air, leaving an echo.

Rorick stepped forward, his face an unreadable mask. “I did my part. I brought her here. Now, it’s time to uphold your end of the bargain. Turn me.”

Selda’s laughter was cold, like the wind that swept through the trees. She strolled towards Rorick, a predator closing in on its prey. A languid smile curved her lips as she placed a finger beneath Rorick’s chin, forcing him to meet her gaze.

“My dear Rorick, your thirst for revenge is almost adorable,” she laughed, her eyes gleaming with malice. She turned her gaze to Bat, a wicked grin splitting her face. “When I found this pitiful creature, he was practically frothing at the mouth with rage. He blamed you for his failure to complete the ceremony. Someone pulled some strings and got his registration revoked. Tragic. Such impatience is unbecoming of a man his age.”

With a fluid motion, Selda circled Rorick, her fingers gliding along his shoulder before she stopped behind him. The world slowed as she produced a gleaming dagger, the blade catching the dim light of the forest. In one swift, brutal motion, she drew the knife across Rorick’s throat, blood gushing forth in a horrific fountain. His body collapsed to the ground in a lifeless heap as she held his severed head aloft.

“I never did like him. So entitled, so spoiled,” Selda remarked casually, tossing the head to the ground as if it were no more than a piece of garbage.

Bat’s heart pounded as she witnessed the gruesome scene unfold before her. The once golden threads that had connected her to Rorick now twisted and turned a vicious red, vibrating with the violence that had just occurred. The forest around them held its breath, the shadows deepening as though they were recoiling from the act of brutality that had just taken place. Bat drew back, bile rising in her throat. Her stomach churned as she turned away, unable to bear the sight any longer.

“Oh, please,” Selda chastised with a wicked smile, her voice dripping scornfully. “It’s not like you cared for him.”

Bat’s eyes flashed with anger as she looked up, but her voice choked with emotion. “That doesn’t mean he deserved to die.”

Selda’s eyes glinted with amusement. “Deserved? My dear, in this world, we all deserve to die. Only the eternal New God is beyond the reach of death.”

Bat felt a lump form in her throat, her words a strangled whisper. “Where is my mother?”

Selda laughed, the sound echoing around the clearing. “All in good time, my dear. But first, let me show you someone else.”

With a flick of her wrist, two figures emerged from the shadows, dragging a battered and bloodied Ace to her feet. Ace’s limbs hung limp as they released him, his body crumpling to the ground like a discarded ragdoll. Bat gasped, her heart clenching at the sight of his bloodied and bruised form. His clothing was in tatters, his face almost unrecognizable from the swelling and cuts that marred his skin.

Selda crouched beside him, cradling his battered face in her hands. “This one was quite the challenge. Hedda had to use a bit of her magic to bring him to heel. It took our best efforts to capture him.” She turned Ace’s face from side to side, inspecting him as one might examine a piece of meat at the market.

Bat felt her knees weaken, her heart pounding in her chest as she took in the sight of Ace’s broken body. “What have you done to him?”

Selda shrugged, her voice casual. “Oh, just a bit of fun. Don’t worry, he’ll live. Maybe.” She flicked Ace’s head to the side, dropping in a low groan. “Of course, the magic does have some... unfortunate side effects. It seems to have slowed down his healing process. Such a shame.”

Selda’s finger traced a line along Ace’s prosthetic arm. “Pity he’s not immortal, isn’t it?”

She stood with a triumphant smile as she looked down at Bat. “You’ve grown quite attached to him, haven’t you? That’s unfortunate. His destiny is sealed and doesn’t end well for him.”

A silence fell over the clearing as Selda straightened, a twisted smile playing on her lips. She snapped her fingers, signaling for Hedda to make her move. The witch stepped forward, her eyes locked onto Bat, a sinister smile curling her lips.

Bat’s heart raced within the confines of her chest as a solid mass of followers encircled her in the stony clearing. The golden threads of energy around her pulsated with chaotic enthusiasm, making it challenging to replace the focus she desperately needed.

Ace’s voice, weak and strained, cut through the tension. “I’m sorry, Bat.” He lay crumpled on the ground, head bowed, as Selda nudged him with her boot.

Hedda’s advance continued, dark energy crackling from her fingertips like a storm ready to be unleashed. Bat could feel the waves of hostility that rolled off the witch, and she braced herself, fists clenched at her sides.

A fierce protectiveness engulfed Bat. “Leave him be!” she roared, propelling herself forward.

Selda leaped back, her laughter ringing out clear and mocking. “Is that any way to address your mother?”

Bat reeled. “You’re lying! Where is she? Where’s my mother?” Her mind spun in confusion, grappling with the resemblance that taunted her from Selda’s face.

Selda’s eyes gleamed as she leaned in, a mere breath away from Bat. “Has time erased your memory of your poor, forsaken mother?”

Bat scrutinized the woman before her, struggling to reconcile the figure from her fragmented memories with the one that stood before her. Her mother’s image was a tattered remnant in her mind, but in Selda’s gaze, she recognized the distant, hazy eyes that once peered back at her.

“There it is. Recognition at last!” Selda’s triumphant crow resonated as she spun in a theatrical twirl, her gaze cast skyward.

Bat’s voice was a whisper thick with confusion. “How? Why?”

Selda’s demeanor hardened, her tone snapping with intensity. “I wasn’t mad! The visions, the voices – it was all because of you!” She jabbed a finger in Bat’s direction, her other hand clawing at her hair as if attempting to pull the memories from her mind physically. “And then He found me, showed me my purpose, guided me away from the chaos. I cast aside my old life and assumed a new identity.”

A lone tear traced a path down Bat’s cheek as she said, “But you never came back. You abandoned me.”

For a fleeting moment, Selda’s facade cracked, the barest flicker of regret flashing across her features. She regained her composure with a practiced ease. “Spare me your tears. Some things never change.” She sighed in both frustration and resignation. “You wouldn’t comprehend. No one can.”

“You’ve truly lost your mind,” Bat accused, her words biting the air.

Selda came to a jarring halt and rotated toward Bat, the motion agonizingly slow. Her eyes ignited with a fury that narrowed them to mere slits as they bore into Bat. “You haven’t the faintest clue of your own identity. Despite the time you’ve spent immersed in the company of Hedda’s kin, ignorance still clouds your understanding.”

At this, Hedda advanced a step, her posture commanding attention. “My sister, Moja, fails to comprehend, dear young one, that you are not merely one of the Norn. You are the reincarnation of Skuld.”

Bat’s heart thundered in her chest as she grappled with the unfolding revelations. “Skuld? What does that even mean?” she questioned, her voice wavering.

Hedda’s expression turned solemn. “Skuld, in her mysterious wisdom, opted to traverse the realms.”

Selda’s voice cut through the air, shrill and full of hatred. “A monstrous act!” she shouted, her declaration met with a cacophony of cheers from her followers. “The New God has decreed that a sacrifice must be made!”

“The pantheon may be vast,” Hedda pressed on, “but only the New God reigns supreme.”

Selda took up the thread of her sermon, her voice amplifying to match the enthusiasm of her followers, who were now stamping their feet in a rhythm that caused the earth to shudder beneath Bat’s feet. “Do you not perceive the meaning? The return of Skuld invalidates the ancient treaty. The old gods will annihilate each other. In the aftermath, only the devout followers of the New God will replace salvation.”

Bat’s gaze moved from Selda, Hedda, and the followers, lingering on Ace as he lay motionless on the ground.

“I stand before you as both prophet and martyr, prepared to sacrifice all to herald the dawn of the age of the New God!” In a dramatic flourish, Selda reached into the robes of a follower and withdrew a gleaming sword, which she brandished overhead. She moved with predatory grace toward Ace, towering above him, her voice dripping with contempt. “And this one, lovely yet utterly misguided. He would have willingly met his demise to shield you from me.” With a flourish, she raised the hilt high above her head and drove the blade with unyielding precision through Ace’s back, piercing his heart. Black blood oozed from the wound as she withdrew the sword. “Now, he meets his end on your behalf.”

A heart-wrenching “No!” ripped from Bat’s throat as she crawled to Ace’s side, her sobs raw and grating.

The sword, now drenched in Ace’s obsidian blood, gleamed ominously under the flickering torchlight as Selda advanced on Bat, her gaze unwavering and filled with malice. Bat’s heart pounded furiously in her chest as she braced herself for the inevitable blow.

With grim determination, Selda hoisted the sword above her head, the blade catching the firelight in a vicious dance of shadows and gleaming steel. Bat felt the chilling proximity of the edge, its oppressive weight bearing down on her, as Selda commenced the downward arc of the sword toward her.

“In this moment, little Bat, know all will be well.” Aces’ voice, although a mere whisper, was laden with reassurance. “You are worth everything.”

Without missing a beat, Bat thrust her hands forward and up toward the sword in Selda’s grasp, slicing through the constricting ropes that bound her wrists. The sword lanced the ground, sending a ripple of shock through Selda. The chaotic golden threads of fate encircled Bat as she willed herself to zero in on the singular thread that linked her to Ace. As the final strand of the rope gave way, Bat felt an almost imperceptible loosening of the thread, as if it were unraveling in tandem with her actions.

Grim determination etched on her face, Bat remained at Ace’s side, her heart-wrenching at the sight of his lifeblood pooling around him. She felt the pulse of his life force, weak and fleeting, the once robust golden thread now attenuating to a mere wisp.

“No.” Her voice was a hushed whisper.

Selda regained her composure, a sinister smile playing on her lips. “What’s that, daughter?”

Bat met Selda’s gaze squarely, her voice unwavering. “I said no.” Her outstretched hand reached for the thread connecting her to Ace, her fingers brushing against the golden filaments. The threads yielded to her touch, giving way under the pressure exerted by her fingertips. An infusion of power surged through Bat as she clenched the thread, her muscles straining as she tugged at it. The golden thread responded, pulsating with a luminous vitality, growing in luminosity and strength before ultimately snapping.

Bat gathered the severed ends of the thread, focusing every ounce of her willpower as she sought to reunite them. The golden strands twisted and writhed in her grip, fighting against the fusion, but she persisted, defying the resistance until she tied them into a tight knot. “Please, don’t leave me,” she implored softly. “Return to me.”

She released the thread no sooner than it vibrated with a newfound vitality, radiating an intense luminescence that grew exponentially with each passing second. A low groan escaped Ace’s lips as he stirred in her arms.

Gently laying him on the ground, Bat rose to her full height, her gaze blazing with an unyielding determination as it locked with Selda’s. Hedda retreated, vanishing into the shadows of the encircling trees, leaving Selda isolated and squarely in the path of Bat’s vengeance. And vengeance she would have. With measured steps, Bat advanced on Selda, her mind consumed by the unspeakable atrocities that Selda had inflicted upon her and those she held dear.

“What in the nine realms do you think you’re doing?” Selda hissed, her voice filled with fury as Bat stalked towards her. Fire blazed in Bat’s eyes as she moved closer to what was once her mother, the golden thread pulsating with energy, filling her with unyielding strength. Selda stumbled backward, her face twisting in fear.

“Enough!” Bat’s voice rang out, a clear command that echoed in the now silent clearing. “I spent my entire existence searching for you, haunted by the unknown fate that befell you.”

Selda’s response was a mirthless chuckle as she crossed her arms over her chest, one eyebrow arched in a challenge. “Well, isn’t this an unexpected turn of events,” she sneered, her head tilting to the side as she observed Bat with amusement and disdain.

“I’m through with this.” Bat’s voice was a mere whisper as she looked down at Ace, a wave of relief washing over her as she observed his chest rising and falling with the steady rhythm of life. The noise of hurried footsteps filled the air as Selda’s disciples scattered, fleeing into the sanctuary of the woods.

A sinister smile curled Selda’s lips as she pointed the blade at Bat. “You may think you’re invincible, but the New God has ways of dealing with aberrations like you. I am the chosen instrument of the one true God’s wrath.”

But just as she spoke, the sound of Selda’s voice was suddenly cut off by a gruesome snap—a visceral, sickening snap of vertebrae giving way, unfurling into the chilly night air.

Bat’s eyes stretched wide in horror as Selda’s lifeless body crumpled to the forest floor, a discarded puppet whose strings had been cut. Standing over her, Val’s face was an unreadable mask, his actions speaking louder than any words ever could.

Time warped and bent, stretching out the silence that descended upon the clearing like a thick, impenetrable fog. The whisper of leaves rustling in the wind was the only sound that dared to punctuate the stillness.