Chapter Thirty-Two

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The first breath was always the most painful… and the most pleasurable. A choking gasp, a struggling desperation, a hopeful reach… and then there was light and life. Nocte held the girl close as she fought to regain her breath, her body shaking against hers, her heart pounding hard and rebelliously against hers. With her Sight, Nocte helped the girl’s life energy settle over her brittle body and curve the death energy aside, holding the black at bay to allow the white to mend.

Quietly, she heard the girl speak.

“N-Nocte,” she whimpered. “I-I’m s-scared…”

Nocte pressed the girl close, shoulder to shoulder, and waited until the girl’s shaking subsided. Then, slowly, she withdrew from Chantée to brush aside the stray hairs from the girl’s face and placed a kiss on Chantée’s forehead. Softly, Nocte whispered, “It’s okay now. You’re back now. I’ve got you.”

Chantée’s fingers dug into Nocte’s coat, darkness and ghosts still floating in her vision. Corliss had undergone the same transformation, as did Aman and Měi Fèng. Only, Nocte understood solemnly, she had not been there for Aman and Měi Fèng hadn’t had the time to dwell upon it. They had been strong enough to repel the nightmare of the life-after without her, an afterlife Nocte could only guess at that sealed Corliss’ lips and haunted her dreams.

She could only guess at what Chantée had seen.

Nocte had had a very different sort of experience.

She placed her temple against the girl’s and hushed her in a low tone. A billowing of unearthly robes and Nocte lifted her gaze to meet one of blue and green. Farhat smiled that gentle smile of his, his blond hair sifting in an otherworldly wind to divulge the ordinarily hidden green eye. That soft, mischievous quirk in his lips, that fond gleam in his eyes, Farhat was a welcome sight.

“Nocte,” Farhat sighed, relieved and pleased. “You did well. Much better than what we could have expected.”

Her gaze turned inquisitive, but the Reaper looked over her shoulder.

“My, he doesn’t look too happy,” Farhat commented, his smile turning tight and his eyes turning sharp. “Nocte, it’s time to rise.”

Giving Chantée one last hug, she released her hold on the girl and rose to her feet. Chantée reached for her, but Nocte turned to face the newcomer. The man did not look like any man she had encountered. Long white tresses, dried and grey, fell straight from his crown to the snow, wrapping around his withered and naked feet. He was white as snow, his eyes dark as coal. He was malnourished, all skin and bones, frail in his nakedness.

There was a madness in his eyes.

“He’s the Great Evil of Earth,” Farhat supplied at her shoulder. An angel or demon guardian did not compare to a grim reaper.

Nocte smiled at her thoughts.

“I-I did not expect the S-Singer to have a necromancer at her s-side,” the Great Evil heaved with effort, his lungs rattling his brittle ribs.

Nocte would have felt sorry for the bastard if he hadn’t killed Chantée.

Several ice-soldiers crawled out from the glacier, surrounding her in a small crowd. As long as there weren’t any spiders, she would be able to keep her disgust at bay.

“Behind,” Farhat said, not at all concerned.

Nocte looked back to see the Darkness. The Hell dragons were gone.

“Ready?” Farhat asked.

“To kick some ass, you mean?” she quipped, her right hand closing over an Ice Sword.

Nocte Yin: Anti-Villain, Anti-Hero and Anti-Everything ElseWhere stories live. Discover now