The Betrayal of a Brother
Rachel listened quietly, while Cramnal, Rebecca, and Struns stood patiently at her side. Her face was calm, but beneath her skin, rage brewed like a storm trapped in glass. Marce's spirit was unraveling before her, threads of memory and instinct separating from his soul, slowly being drawn into her web. She would not let him slip away into death's mercy. No—he would not get off easily. His soul and his spirit would both be hers.
His memory would be eaten and added to that of the Milana soul and memory, combined, for eternity, with what Milana, for eons, felt was important for the generations that followed to know.
Her [Spirit Web Trap] spread like a lattice of rainbow fire, invisible to mortal eyes, but blazing within the spiritual realm. Marce's instinct screamed, trying to retreat into the deep recesses of his essence, but every time he moved, the threads tightened, forcing him to expose more of himself. His memories were tugged loose, glowing strands pulled like silk from his being. He twitched once, twice, but his resistance only quickened the weaving.
Rachel's gaze sharpened. She was going to take everything—his instinct, his experience, his power. He would fight for her in death, and he would advise her as a chained voice within her arsenal. That was the nature of this method. And, as she listened to his unraveling truth, her anger grew heavier with every word.
The Trannisa Conglomerate. Their endless greed. Their arrogance in trying to rewrite the realm itself.
She thought of Anis—her quiet sister, the Fatetress of Trannisa. A gentle soul who had never once tried to harm anyone. Anis, who bore the weight of divination yet still smiled at flowers and stars. And now, she had been targeted because, she was seen as weak, because she was seen as accessible. Because she was easier to manipulate.
But not anymore, Rachel would make sure that her elder sister embraced her techniques for war as well as for healing and love. Anis would not be vulnerable anymore.
Rachel's breathing deepened, her chest rising with the effort of control. She wanted to lash out. She wanted to tear Marce apart until there was nothing left but smoke and screams. But she held herself still and listened.
And this is what she heard:
'They wanted to change the Milana to Anis because it was divined that it would be easier for the Conglomerate to manipulate realm characteristics. She cannot fully control the realm.'
Her lips curved into a bitter smile. Exactly what she had suspected.
"Were you intending to kill Anis?" Rachel's voice was low, the kind of quiet that made flames tremble. "And did the White President perform the divination?"
Marce's spirit stuttered as if trying to hold back, but the web gave him no mercy. His voice, detached and ethereal, answered on instinct:
'That I do not know for sure. I suspected so. The Black and White Presidents were not concerned if she survived, only that she lasted nine hours after the ritual. Both can divine to a degree, and they have subordinates skilled in it. I am away too often on missions to have seen it directly.'
Rachel tilted her head, strands of black hair brushing across her cheek. That answer fit. The Black and White Presidents always acted in tandem, two sides of a cruel coin, Ashan and Adalin, it was time for the Conglomerate to be tamed. Marce had always been their fixer, their solitary blade in the dark. He worked alone, and he worked ruthlessly.
She pressed further. "Hmmm. Did Shain know of this plan?"
The answer came without hesitation.
'Yes.'
Rachel froze. For a heartbeat, she could not breathe.
Her brother.
The one who had sworn to protect Anis with his own life. The manipulator, another user of fate magic within the family. He had entered the Conglomerate ranks determined to weed out the corruption, had he become corrupt in the process?
'He is the one who verified that Anis would not be able to maintain complete control for long,' Marce's hollow voice continued. "He believed the realm would simply disconnect from her. He was uncertain whether this would cause backlash for her, or for anyone involved."
Rachel's fingers curled into fists. The rainbow flame around her soul web flared hotter, sharp enough that even Cramnal stiffened at her side.
Struns glanced at her. His jaw clenched, but he said nothing. Rebecca tilted her head, eyes gleaming in the dim light. It was Cramnal, ever the protective brother, who finally whispered, "Rach…"
She did not respond. Her fury was silent, measured, dangerous.
Inside Marce's soul, a tiny fragment of will tried to fight her—scratching, clawing, desperately trying to eject her from his well of consciousness. But her web had already renamed him. Already rewritten him. His soul space now belonged to her. His resistance was laughable.
Rachel raised her hand. A flame bloomed in her palm, delicate at first, then blooming into power. It began as violet—signifying the core element of her sorcery—then deepened to crimson, bled into blue, and finally softened to pastel pink.
Within half a heartbeat, the flame was a layered jewel of destruction: purple core with a red edge, blue laced the licking rim, and a pink sheen danced along its surface.
She stepped forward, slow and deliberate. Her palm touched Marce's chest, fingers arched like the claws of a merciful predator. Each digit glowed a different hue—thumb and index in purple, pinky in red, ring in pastel pink, pointer in blue.
The moment her touch landed, Marce's body snapped upright. His spine elongated unnaturally, tendons straining. He gasped, mouth opening in a soundless scream, as the flame spread in rippling waves across his torso.
But he did not die, lingering for long moments, the fire taking then giving back in long languid waves. They stretched the moment out and led him to an oblivion mortal minds could never understand.
Rachel no longer saw, nor heard him, for her, he was already gone, ended like a quiet lullaby in a distant night.
Rachel's voice was calm, terrifyingly so. "Shain knew. And the Conglomerate did not care if Anis lived or died."
Struns' fist clenched so tightly that his knuckles cracked. Rage stormed across his features. His eyes flicked to the still burning form of Marce above them, suddenly he felt Rachel had been way too kind.
Cramnal, however, looked stricken. "No… Shain? He would never…" His expression was a mixture of bewilderment and denial, like a child caught between faith and betrayal.
Rebecca, of course, was the first to recover. Her lips quirked in a mischievous grin. "So… can I have him as an—"
"No." Rachel cut her off. Her tone was sharp as steel. "He will be mine."
She lowered her gaze to the floor. "But when I tame that abomination you released, I will give you two, or three of its aspects."
Rebecca's grin widened. "Thanks, sis."
Rachel's flames flared, and Marce's body began to crumble, slowly, starting with the toes and fingers. Flesh disintegrated into glowing ash, purple and red and blue and pink swirling together. His scream was no longer sound but vibration, his soul unraveling thread by thread.
Struns and Cramnal turned away as his body dissolved, but Rebecca watched with hungry fascination.
Rachel spoke to each in their minds.
'Cramnal, Struns, take care of Anis. Rebecca you're with me. You can with draw the six but allow your guard to stay with us.'
'Yes Milana!'
They answered in unison and it rang through her soul.
Rachel opened a diamond-and-gold bottle, its facets shimmering. The ash funneled upward in a spiral, a miniature cyclone, before slamming into the bottle's core. The facets flashed the four colors nine times, then cleared.
She sealed it with a twist of her wrist.
A shadow of violet light rose before her. Those loose soul threads quickly, meticulously weaving together again, but weaving to form an unshakable bond with a new master.
Marce's form slowly appeared, stacking up before Rachel like an odd living puzzle, his head bowed low, his face covered in a sheer rainbow cloth, and his body like fine pure white smoke. When it spoke, its voice was an ethereal echo of the man he had been:
"Master."
Rebecca laughed, her voice light and mocking. "You enslaved him? You're too horrible, Rachel. Truly."
As if in answer, a pink amorphous blob bobbed into existence at Rachel's side, quivering like gelatin, waiting for her command. Rebecca's eyes narrowed, but she said nothing more.
Rachel ignored her. Her gaze turned inward, her expression unreadable. Then, without another word, she stepped forward. Her body sank into the floor, vanishing as if the stone itself had swallowed her.
Rebecca shook her head, shoulders rising in a helpless shrug. Her form shimmered, flickering once before vanishing as well. But her eyes lingered on the pink blob until the very last moment.