Abolisher
53.

Faolin limped to the edge of the cliff, overlooking the tribes. Sun crept out at the horizon. S~ᴇaʀᴄh the FɪndNovᴇl.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

Last night’s Darkness wholly eaten away by the hints of approaching azure in the sky.

The legion that’d formed followed by the opening of the portal was just now retreating to their usual days.

The legion—human no more, she knew. These were baeselk closed in human skin.

Their veins were black beneath their skin, the tips of their fingers were dark, as if the talons curbed. But … they acted human. Walked like humans—chatted like humans.

Faolin could hardly breathe.

This was a new race. A fusion of baeselk and Vegreka.

People from worlds across the universe brought together. Here. But the question was, were the humans alive inside those minds? Or were they wholly captured and corrupted?

As duce, was she to rule monsters now?

A hand touched her shoulder. “Hey.”

Faolin turned.

The skin beneath Ferouzeh’s eyes was still purple due to the sickness the Darkness had caused in her mejest. Her lips were parched—enough that they might bleed if tugged at them.

The healer’s bloodless lips quirked in a small smile. “Are you ready?”

Faolin had told them about what Syrene had done—the bequeathing of her position as a duce, as soon as understanding had dawned upon her.

That Syrene hadn’t planned to save only the universe.

She’d planned to save humanity. That’s what she’d meant when she’d said she might be born to save the planet, but Faolin was meant to save the world.

Syrene … her friend, had entrusted humanity in her hands. She hadn’t thought much for herself, she hadn’t taken a stand for herself when the time came for the cost. She’d been brave enough to take the last step.

Faolin’s chest ached.

She shrugged. “I have to be.” She looked to east, her throat tight. “Syrene had always valued survival. In the end, she offered everyone that gift but herself. I’d be damned if I let it all fall to ashes.” She looked back to the hazel eyes branding her face. “How are the three taking it?” she asked.

While Faolin, Vendrik and Azryle had chased Syrene, Ferouzeh had worked on the Darkness coiling Vur’s, Levsenn’s and Renavy’s minds, breaking them free from whatever compulsion Felset had ensnared them in. Ferouzeh had been the one to inform them about what’d occurred and Vendrik and Faolin dug graves for Raocete and Eliver and Hexet.

Dirt still filled her nails.

Ferouzeh’s eyes grew dark. “As well as you would expect them to.”

Faolin looked back to the horizon but—

Ferouzeh cautiously took her fingers and squeezed. “I’m proud of you, Faolin.” She smiled.

For some reason, those words meant more than anything at this moment.

Faolin nodded, unable to bear the ache in her throat. The healer didn’t release her fingers, neither did Faolin want her to. She asked, “How are you holding up?”

A woeful expression seized Ferouzeh’s face, her hazel eyes drifted to the sunrise over Faolin’s shoulder. As if she could just glimpse the ripper from here. “He’ll be fine,” she choked out. “He will shed blood in her name, might even bathe himself in it, but he will return. For her, if not for anyone else.” She looked back at Faolin. “He won’t stop until he gets her back.”

“How are you so sure?”

The healer smiled. “Because she made him human. She made him something against his very nature.” Faolin watched the roll of her throat as she swallowed. She met her gaze. “Love can attain the impossible, yeah?”

Faolin only nodded. Then she found herself stepping closer to the healer. Her arms went around her.

Ferouzeh stiffened for a moment. Then, slowly, tentatively, her hands came across her back. Neither of them spoke as they held each other in a world surrounded by otherworldly beasts.

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