Kings Game

Chapter 103 - Death's Flesh

[Author's Note] Here it is, the beginning of Part V. This is the final book in the story and will bring everything to a close. I'm hoping to have everything tied up by the end of February, but we'll see how it goes. 

If you've made it this far, thank you so much for reading my story. There is still a lot for me to finish up. Lot's of character arcs to finish, lots of loose ends to tie up, and of course a grand finale. I hope that I'm able to wrap everything up in a satisfying way.

Thank you <3

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(1)

A few days after the death of Ahndor the Immortal...

Roran sat across from Nul in a dark cabin. His body burned from the fresh etchings now covering his skin. Together, they sat in a circle of concentric patterns burned into the ground and painted with his own blood. In the very center of the circle was a small pile of purple and blue glass, the remains of Alsarahnia the lyhlim.

"Are you ready?" asked Nul.

Roran nodded.

"This won't be like your other godspell. You'll lose sensation for a while, it will feel like you're floating in an abyss. From there...I don't really know. Akanos was with me. We were able to figure out how to activate the etchings from within. With Sarah in her current state...I don't know what will happen."

"I'll figure it out," said Roran. "Do it."

Nul placed their hands on the floor. The etchings began to light up, giving off a faint red glow. The smell of burnt blood filled the air. Roran placed his hands alongside Nul's. Adding his energy to theirs, Roran began to feel light headed. He felt the familiar tension of a godspell trying to activate. Leaning into it, Roran poured himself into the markings and fell into darkness.

Roran didn't feel like he was floating in an abyss, he felt like he was being smothered by it. Darkness devoured Roran, pressing in from all sides and gripping him tight. Despite the overwhelming feeling of being crushed, there was a quiet comfort to it. He could lie still and let the weight grind him into nothing. He could let go and forget about everything. All of his troubles would be passed on to someone else. All of his suffering and misery would finally be over.

Pushing away the feeling of comfort, Roran began groping around in the darkness. Putting his hands to the ground, Roran found jagged shards of glass. Sarah. They dug into his palms and flayed him open. Hissing in pain, Roran carefully scooped up the shards. There was only a small handful. He needed to find the rest of her.

Slowly, Roran stumbled around in the dark, finding Sarah's shattered remains by cutting himself open on them. They dug into his feet as he walked and gouged open his hands as he picked them up. His palms were bleeding freely by the time he'd collected the majority of the fragments. Something inside him said that he didn't need to find them all, just enough. This space was unique to them, as long as Sarah was somewhere in here, she would be safe. What he needed now was enough of her to begin putting the pieces back together.

Sitting down, Roran placed the pieces in front of him and tried fitting them together. Lacking any form of light, he was forced to do it by feel, carefully running his fingers over the shards to determine their shape and how they might fit back together. The jagged edges cut open his fingers as he worked. Ignoring the pain, Roran began using his own blood to glue the fragments back together. Much of it was guesswork, but he slowly managed to cobble together the vague shape of a sphere.

When he'd done as much as he could, he cupped the bloody mess in his hands and squeezed, hoping to press the ball back together. While the edges dug into his palms, Roran felt a warm pulse come from the orb.