Silence hung heavy between them. Cassian stared at Celeste. Her smile was too wide, like she was pleased with herself.
She wants me to slay a literal god.
"Was that meant to be a joke?"
Her red hair floated around her like she was underwater as she leaned back.
"Of course not. I don't joke about things like this."
"So you're serious."
Her smile twitched as she cocked her head to the side. "What part don't you understand?" Her tone sharpened.
Cassian raked his fingers through his hair. "I can't believe this. This is insane." He shut his eyes, trying to process. "You want me, a mortal, to kill a god. Why can't you do it yourself?"
Her eyes narrowed. The smile vanished. "Are you underestimating me?" Something in her tone made alarm bells ring in his head. "Of course not," he mumbled, looking away.
"Good. So we understand each other." She crossed her arms. "Because of that wench Duvessa, we have a time limit now."
Cassian's stomach dropped, and his body went cold. "What do you mean, time limit?" She shrugged casually. "Normally, you'd have until your thirties. But after her little stunt, you have until you're twenty-six. Ten years from now."
Ten years to live?
A dry laugh escaped him. It sounded crazed, with each breath getting worse. "So, let me get this straight. I was chosen by you to live again, but with the condition that I kill a god."
"Precisely." She smiled brightly.
Cassian scoffed. "No, thank you. At this point, death would have been better." He would have faded from existence, not having to worry about anything.
"What did you just say?"
Her cheerful expression vanished. Her hair dropped around her. The air turned cold.
Red ribbons materialised from the void, shooting toward him like striking snakes. They wrapped around his body, yanking him into the air. His arms were pinned to his sides, his legs bound tight.
Celeste stood. She looked less human now, with her pale skin and sunken eyes. She let out a low, awful laugh, covering her face with one hand. As a ribbon twisted around her finger, one around his chest tightened until he could barely breathe.
"You'd rather die?" Her laugh echoed through the space. She turned to face him, the laugh cutting off abruptly. Her eyes blazed with fury. "This is exactly why no one wants to give you mortals anything! We give you gifts, shower you with blessings, and you spit in our faces!" Her voice distorted with each word, causing fear to spike within him.
Don't tell me I actually angered her.
"Do you know how lucky you are?" The ribbon on his throat tightened. "Many would beg, cry, kill for what you have. Many are far more deserving than you. And you dare say you'd rather die to my face?"
Is this how I die?
"You want death?" Her voice was icy cold. "I'll gladly give it to you."
"No. I'm sorry." He choked the words out, his voice hardly above a whisper.
"You'll be sorry by the time I'm done with you."
Time slowed. She glared at him with those emerald eyes, burning with rage. His vision darkened at the edges as consciousness slipped away like water through his fingers.
Then she sighed sharply and snapped her fingers.
The ribbons vanished. Cassian fell, crashing into the chair. He gasped for air, each breath burning his throat.
Celeste sat back down. She looked human, but the warmth was gone. Her expression was blank, as though carved in stone. She watched him with complete indifference.
"Alright." Her voice was flat. "If you'd rather die, take this."
A silver knife materialised and clattered onto the table. Runes were etched along the blade, glowing faintly.
"Kill yourself before sunset. If you don't, I'll assume you're serious about the task." She tilted her head. A small smile crept onto her face. It was creepy and wrong, masking the anger still simmering underneath. "Pull this trick again, and I'll make you beg for death's cold embrace." She clenched her fists. The words hung in the air like a promise.
"Get out of my sight." She flickered her wrist like she was disposing of trash. Space twisted around him, and the darkness fled. His head felt faint as his vision blurred. He looked up.
He was back at the altar.
The masked priestess was still on the floor where the explosion had thrown her. She stared at him, eyes wide behind her cracked mask.
"An Arcane weaver," she spat like a curse.
Heavy hands clamped down on his shoulders. Cassian turned to see two guards. They were broad and muscular, with hard faces. They grabbed his shoulders and started dragging him away. In front of the murmuring crowd.
"Wait! What are you..." He tried pulling free, but they were too strong. His feet scraped against the floor as they hauled him toward a side door. "Let go of me!" He twisted, trying to break their grip. It was useless.
They shoved him through a doorway and down a dim corridor. The walls were made of bare stone. The room was old and damp, with no windows. Small flickering candles lit the room, but shadows roamed freely.
At the end of the hall, they stopped at an iron door. One guard pulled it open with a rusty screech. The other threw Cassian inside. He hit the floor hard. The dirty stone scraped his palms and knees.
"Stay here." One of them barked.
The door slammed shut. The lock clicked into place with a finality that made his chest tighten.
Cassian scrambled to his feet and threw himself at the door. "Let me out!" He pounded on the iron with both fists. The sound echoed in the small space. "Let me out of here!"
I thought I was the son of the chief?
No one responded.
He kept hitting the door until his hands ached and his arms burned. Eventually, his body gave out. He collapsed against the wall, sliding down to the floor. His breath came in ragged gasps.
What a mess.
"So I was the poor sucker." His laugh was bitter.
Distant cheers filtered through the walls. Muffled but unmistakable. They'd continued the ceremony without him. How lovely.
His hand went to his throat, rubbing where the ribbon had choked him. Celeste's words echoed in his mind.
Slay the god of corruption.
In his past life, he'd heard legends of warriars and heroes strong enough to challenge gods. But that is all they were, legends.
I couldn't do anything against Celeste. She had me completely at her mercy. How am I supposed to face a god?
He looked at his arm. Despite the bruising, they were soft, having never seen a day of hard work. This body was lean, weak, a dissadvantage.
Something cold pressed against his thigh. He reached down and pulled out the knife Celeste had given him. How did it get there? It was beautiful. Silver blade, intricate runes, surprisingly light in his hand. It would sell for a pretty coin.
Kill yourself before sunset. He let out a tense breath. "What choice do I have?"
"She said this was a gift. How is this a gift?" It felt more like a curse. Aren't gods meant to be benevolent, kind, loving? Even Oriven, the tamest of the 3, felt off.
He shook his head and took a slow breath. "I'll figure it out. I'll make sure things work out." His words did little to reassure him. Everything could be conquered with a little planning and thinking.
He rested his head against the wall as he shut his eyes. "I won't quit. Not this easily." He dropped the knife. It clattered against the stone.
Time passed. He didn't know how long. Could've been minutes. Could've been hours.
The lock clicked, and the door creaked open.
Cassian opened his eyes. A guard stood in the doorway, a lantern in hand.
"Get up. The high priest wants to see you."