The Aspect - Book 4 - Prologue - Beta (Patreon)

Fragments of hair floated aimlessly in the abyss as Septimus jerked back from the incoming blow. The divine of time was within seconds of joining his fallen kin, a husk of their former selves with their power stolen from their brother. However, the creature swinging the dagger in front of him was no longer the young sibling who spent many eons playing strategy games on Iðna’s twin moons together.

He was an abomination. His skin had become a leathery black with veins glowing every color of a rainbow. The once small and frail frame was now a hulking mass of muscle thanks to his absorption of Ungroth’s power. Coal of black and purple hatred replaced his enamoring green eyes. His hands were burned and frozen, foretelling Septimus his loss of his dear sister. While he knew what had occurred thanks to the billions of visions that foretold the fall of their pantheon, nothing could have prepared him for seeing it outside of a vision.

Each swing inched closer and closer to Septimus’s body. He could feel a temporary weakness brought on by the blade’s proximity as it attempted to leech his power completely. It felt as if his head ran into a spider’s web and, as it pulled from his face, it left a paralytic poison behind, creating a temporary numbness.

Nysit’s movements flashed without warning and with inhuman speed. If it wasn’t for the billions of times, Septimus had seen this scene play out only moments prior, he knew he’d be lost. It all came down to calculating the odds and having faith in another that he would make it out alive. He needed to buy his savior some more time.

After side-stepping a forward thrust, Septimus took in a deep breath and shouted. “Stop!” And so, the galaxy stood still. He wasn’t a trained combatant like Yuria or Ungroth, nor a combat sorceress such as Feura, but when he spoke verbally, time listened.

By the time his words echoed across the voice of space, the tip of Nysit’s dagger was already inches away from Septimus’s eye. He floated backward and looked at his petrified brother. His eyes frantically scoured the area around like a mouse cornered into a trap. When Septimus was certain the word was powerful enough and Nysit wasn’t going anywhere, he took a moment of respite.

The battle was over for now. All he needed to do was wait. It was only a matter of time until Tempest succeeded, and Nysit’s vanity betrayed him.

“What have you done?” Nysit shouted into Septimus’s mind. “You’re only delaying the inevitable. Free me from this spell and let us end this!”

Septimus could see the rage in the god of tyranny’s eyes as he struggled to move. Septimus could see the subtle muscle fibers flap in each of his extremities as the two stood in the cast of the twin moons above. The spell wouldn’t hold him indefinitely, but given what he knew, it would be long enough.

“I’m so disappointed in you,” Septimus spoke telepathically, shaking his head. “Never once did I figure you to be so… treacherous as to attack and kill your own family.”

“What are you talking about? I never killed them? They’re locked away and protected.”

“You fool. You’re so blind in your quest of power that you can’t even see what’s happened inside of you.”

Septimus watched as Nysit’s piercing gaze relaxed. His eyes looked up into the sky as if searching for something. It was when they settled on darkness and they widened that Septimus knew he now knew the truth. A glowing light built through the inner layers of his stomach like a lantern casting behind a curtain.

“No, no, no!” Nysit shouted. “This is all wrong! This is all His fault!”

“You have no one to blame but yourself, brother. If it wasn’t for your arrogance and greed, none of this would have happened.”

“No, this cannot be. If it wasn’t for His direct involvement and that damned bastard he created it never would have ended this way!”

“You really thought father would stand by and let you take complete control of Iðna? Let you destroy everything we’ve created together? How can you be so ignorant?”

“The rules emplaced upon us were never fair and too restrictive. Everyone was skirting around them with their own loopholes. Each Aspect created from the majority of our essence was a boon for them. Feura got Norra, Ungroth birthed Cratus, and what did I get? A weak shell of a man who spent his days in a drug filled stupor.”

“You didn’t even abide by them in the first place and look at what happened. You nearly destroyed the planet! The rules in place were not just for their protection, but for our very own. And don’t speak to me about the Aspects. They choose who they become, not us. We all agreed to grant them their own free will. And don’t tell me you didn’t relish in Draven’s escapades as he terrorized Iðna’s eastern tundra. You got your beast, eventually.”

“That’s all he was, an unrefined beast. I wanted a conqueror who would spread my name across the planet. The only ones who worship me are weak lowlifes and thieves.”

Nysit’s selfish self-pity was too much for Septimus to bear. Every word he spoke irritated Septimus like a child complaining he received the wrong toy. His feeling of his siblings’ loss was now hitting him and all he could no longer contain his fury.

“Enough!” Septimus shouted. The words extinguished, the stars caught behind his voice. Nysit’s skin split across his body, spilling essence into the surrounding space. It was enough of a lapse in Septimus’s concentration for Nysit to produce a smile on his face. It was then that the god of time understood what his brother was doing.

However, Nysit’s smile shifted to scorn as he groaned. Septimus could see the light in his stomach was growing, and knew it was just a matter of time before his brother’s end. He floated backward to a safe enough distance as he watched the spectacle unfold.

“What’s he done?” Nysit groaned.

“He’s done the unthinkable. With the sacrifice of our family, the support of unlikely allies, and the power of an Aspect, he’s managed to put a stop to the atrocity you have committed.”

“That’s not… possible. I created so much designed to stop something like him. How could this be?”

Septimus smiled and shook his head. “I gave you the answer that you refuse to listen. He had friends, family, and allies. He brought kingdoms together while your monstrosities fought over petty squabbles.”

“No! This isn’t fair!”

“Time is never fair, only constant. We all must all face the consequences for our actions, and with what you’ve done… even I can’t see all the outcomes.”

With each horrific moan echoed across the pit of space, Nysit started regaining control over his body. Septimus’s outburst was enough lack of control to allow the homunculus to shamble forward, clutching his stomach with one hand and holding the dagger in the other. Septimus prepared himself to flee in case his calculations were wrong, and the god of tyranny had somehow survived what was to come. However, when Nysit began spewing essence from every orifice, the god of time seemed to relax.

In a moment of defiance, his brother coughed up his floating ichor, wiped it away with the back of his hand, and looked him in the eyes as he spoke. “This isn’t the end. I’ll find a way back.”

“For both of our sakes, I hope you’re wrong.”

Nysit bent over, coughing before initiating an instant overhead spin. If Septimus had not been prepared from the speed of their earlier engagements, he would have been a dead man, for his premonitions never once showed him such a feign of treachery. He ducked out of the way of the spinning blade and lurched back upward, ready for an attack. But all the weakened god could manage was a half-witted smile.

He arched his back, exposing his bulging gut that doubled in size. The exposed veins on his body acted like fission points along an earthquake’s surface. A bright green light shone through as his skin cracked and shattered. Septimus covered his eyes as the illumination light increased like the birth of a new star.

When it was over, falling sparkling divine essence coated the sky as if Nysit’s destruction created thousands of new stars. It was a serene moment for Septimus. As far as he was aware, he was the last of Iais’s children. Yuria’s fate was undetermined, and Tempest still had to figure out his way back home.

But as he stood there watching the dust float aimlessly among the galactic wind, Nysit’s words played in the back of his mind. He wasn’t certain how, but he wouldn’t discount his brother’s promise that he would find his way back. It was something he personally vowed never to allow to happen.