In order to save the world from eternal night, Red must find a way to unlock the dormant power of the Sun Goddess running through her veins without killing herself and everyone she loves.
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There was only pressure. So much pressure that my eyes felt like they were going to pop out of my skull, that my ribs were straining and my organs were seconds from popping. I tried to scream, to push out and shout for help, but the scrambling mass spared no thought for those trapped beneath them. Rya's flames guttered beneath my fear, and there was only my pitifully weak body to call upon in my time of desperate need. And it was failing me, again —
Two leathery winged snapped out, knocking men over in droves. I shot up, bloodied arms trembling like fall leaves as I clutched my throat, gulping down the musty air.
"You're alright," the golden giant said, slapping my back. I coughed up something stringy and laced with blood, wincing as the spasms highlighted every new bruise in my body. "I've got you."
True to his word, Sol curled his wings around me like a protective shield, grabbing the hood of my cloak and hauling me upright. He proved a useful anchor as we forged through the crowd, leveraging the powerful muscle in his frame to steer away anyone who slipped through his wings and trampled too close to my feet.
By the time we rounded the corner, men and beasts alike were crawling up a rocky hill, clawing up the golden waterfall of light. There was something distinctly unnerving about the way they swarmed, kicking each other in the face and grabbing ankles for support, digging their claws and fingernails into each other's skin for purchase. Blood muddied the water at their feet, and I was quietly relieved when Sol led me to a nearby wall to wait out the commotion. Holbrom's voice cried out in a furious bid for order, but the men were beyond reason, grunting and wailing and sobbing as they were reborn into a new world, so bright and loud and hot it seared their senses and incapacitated their minds.
The quiet and responsible were left behind. Holbrom shouted orders for them to grab the wounded, and only when the last man was dragged into the light did he shoot me an apologetic look, dashing after them himself.
I understood. Even Sol, who'd gone above and beyond to protect me, was itching to be free of this dank prison. He rolled his shoulders and retracted his wings, the ire in his eyes cooling as it landed on the bodies strewn across the floor.
"Shall we?" he asked, fingers tightening on my waist.
I pulled out of his grasp, rushing to the fallen. Some of them were still moving, breath still gurgling in their throats. I dropped to my knees beside the closest man, pushing sweaty hair back from his crushed-in face. Blood was pooling in the whites of his eyes, and his leg was absolutely shredded, but still he tried to move.
So I tried, too. I tried to will my power into his body, to right what had been wronged. It shied away from the task, as if recognising the futility of the attempt.
"It's not fair," he whispered, shuddering violently. "I did everything she asked. I waited so long to see it."
"See what?" I asked, looking over my shoulder. I hadn't even realised I was asking a question until Sol shook his head. There's nothing you can do for him.
