Page 53 of Daughter of the Dark Sun
Ahard day ofrunning with few breaks brought Therat to a twisted, desolate land of red rock. Deep cracks ran across the bone-dry ground, all memory of water gone from the once verdant oasis. Dead trees warped around each other, their thorny hands waiting to tear flesh from any who passed too near. The taste of blood tainted the air—metallic and sickly sweet.All too familiar to Therat. It made the Shadow-weave awaken within.
Death will never be cleansed from the world. It is broken. Discordant.
Dusk drew near, and with it, a body yearning for sleep. Short buttes dotted the horizon the further Therat walked in the scarred land. He made for the closest one, hoping to find a cave or outcropping. The lengthening shadows set a deep dread in the man’s bones. He wanted to have something behind his back to help pass the night.
It did not take long to reach the formation of brown and red rock. Its steep sides swept up to a plateau overlooking the desert. Therat tried to climb up to see a way out of the strange land, but the smooth rock face bore no semblance of a path on the near side. Looking further, he found the entrance to a small cave—if the shallow hole could be called such a thing. He stumbled in and collapsed into a deep, black sleep.
Sometime in the night, a woman’s voice called out from the dark. The darkness in his heart fled, and he slumbered in peace for the first time since his parents had been murdered. He could almost feel himself nestled between his mother and father, Adon in his arms.
The chill of metal sapping all warmth from his throat wrenched Therat from sleep.
“You are entirely too easy to catch, Therat.”
A woman’s low, rough voice stilled his heart.
I’m still dreaming, aren’t I?
The pinprick of cold against his throat sharpened. He forced his eyes open to see Mireithren staring down at him, a smirk across her deep brown face. A face Therat could never forget. Her muddy brown eyes twinkled with wickedness.
“Wha—”
Mireithren placed a finger over Therat’s mouth.
“Shh. Me first.”
Therat’s body melted at the woman’s touch on his lips. He sank into the rocky ground, muscles losing the will to fight back. As he relaxed, he looked down. Mireithren straddled him like a horse, one hand with an onyx-black dagger at his throat. The warmth of her thighs pressed against his hips sent a dizzying wave of desire through Therat’s body. Her raven-black hair with gold, like the night sky streaked with shooting stars, fell to her waist in tight curls.
She looked divine against the amber glow of dawn. He would do anything she asked at this moment, if only she would quench the fires building inside.
“You remember me, don’t you?” Therat shuddered, her husky voice music to his ears. “I said I would come back for you. Still a boy, wandering after ghosts. Searching, always searching.” Mireithren leaned over and whispered in his ear, “I can give you peace from it all, if you let me.”
It took every ounce of willpower to focus on the siren’s words. The heat of her breath against his neck sent sparks of pleasure running across his flushed skin. It clashed with the cold metal. A confusing wave of pain and pleasure descended as the blade pressed deeper into Therat’s throat. He could not feel the blood trickling down his neck, instead lost amidst the delirium. He looked up into those mesmerizing brown eyes. A tender look flashed by, fleeing as shadows filled Mireithren’s gaze.
He sank, falling ever deeper into the endless void. Its cold embrace soothed the raging voices inside. Still. Quiet. With the clamor of a thousand dead driven from his mind, he could only think ofher.
“Mireithren,” Therat whispered. He opened his eyes, back in the cave with the raven-haired siren perched atop him, a coy smile on her face.
“If you wish, yes, I am Mireithren.”
The woman Therat named Mireithren changed little over the years. Her jagged voice had grown rougher, and her once plump figure was now frail, but she remained the most beautiful woman Therat had ever seen. An ethereal wraith of Shadow and Night.
The air stilled, the tension between the two children of Shadows palpable. Therat scrambled to his feet, back against the wall of the small cave. He towered above the woman, broad shoulders heaving as he touched the wound at his neck. Hot, sticky liquid greeted searching fingers. He had never bled first in a fight.
A growl built in Therat’s throat. He reached for the Shadow-weave, but it did not come rushing forth as it always would. The scar across his chest twinged with fiery pain.
“What did you do to me,evranenith?” The words dripped like thick honey from his mouth, fighting to escape a body seizing up with…fear?
The raven-haired Mireithren only laughed.
“I know who you are. A witch, a siren! An envoy of the Dark Goddess sent to spell my doom and end the world. It was you, wasn’t it? You who made me kill and kill again! You awoke the shadows!” The fervor in Therat’s words verged on manic. “You drive me to madness with thoughts I don’t want and feelings I can’t ignore.”
Though a head shorter than Therat, the maiden in black did not quake in his presence. She kept smiling through it all. Her gaze drifted over his body, taking in every detail. He felt stripped and raw in front of those deep brown eyes, as if she could read his thoughts and all the memories he tried to forget with a single look.
“Correct and incorrect. An envoy? Yes. End the world?” She paused for a moment, a pained look flashing across her face. “No. I seek to save it. Saveus. I cannot do it alone. I am fatedto find you, you know this to be true. You felt it, the day we first met. We need each other.”
“No, no!”
Even as he denied it, Therat remembered how alive he felt when he saw the woman those many years ago. How he waited for her night after night to make sure the nameless ghost in the dark was safe.
