li·ar
/ˈlī(ə)r/
noun
1. the taste of salt and iron on your tongue, gold glistens on your lips. hands of clay stained with the blood of immortals. the blood of fire and rot. heaven and hell. it is the breaking and the mending, the terror and the chaos. darling, divinity has never been this finite.
2. we are the delicate things, the soft things born from envy and hate, crafted as weapons and devourers of fate. we lust for power as the monsters we slay crave for the ephemeral of our souls. we stalk through the night, in skins of mere mortality and hymns of ardent prayer. you do not fear us—we fear you.
3. it is the phantom feeling of destiny at play. it is about a girl whose heart does not belong to her, dreaming of silence and faeries and earl grey tea. it is the vile tenderness of wanting, wanting, wanting.
THE GIRL HUNTED LEGENDS. Each guised in ostentatious skins and decadent desires. Some were clad in armours of sapphire and gold, vicious things devoted to battle. Others were wrapped in gowns of satin and taffeta, mouthfuls of honey-soaked lies dripping from whiskey lips.
The girl hunted them. Hunted myths and monsters from legends old.
Caught between awe and exasperation, she sighed at the false reality before her. Glass world, it was called. A pearly moon nestled against the nooks of the sky. Stars glimmering like diamonds scattered by a careless hand. It was a bright night, too bright a night.
A night for stories breathed to life.
Half of her concentration immediately worked on fortifying the walls of her mind against any form of mental assault. A defence mechanism ingrained into her ever since she was a child. The other half dedicated itself to peeling the glamour layer by layer. For the infernal beings that stalked their world had penchants for mind games. Delighting at the torment they brought.
The girl fiddled with her left ring finger, apprehensive at the absence of her charmed ring. Miffed at herself for allowing the princess to hold on to the one thing that could keep her identity an enigma.
The evening breeze kissed a flush across her cheeks, lifting the few flaxen strands of hair that managed to escape her ponytail. She was in the heart of a meadow. Aela blossom trees bordered the land, a necklace of ivory trunks and ivory branches, petals the pink blush of dawn. They fluttered in the air, giving the illusion of perpetual snowfall.
Of course, everything in this dimension was an illusion. A wistful lie. Fragile as promises, fleeting as mortality. A clever web crafted from patches of reality and snippets of fantasy to snare prey.
Nothing but a fanciful trap.
She drew her phone from the pocket of her uniform and tapped on the screen. It remained blank. Useless. The place was riddled with a stronger sort of magic, then. She bit back another sigh.
The sounds of traffic and the lights of Eden, the shining capital city of Caelestis, had simply faded away. Despite herself, despite the debts repaid and the ones still owed, her mind stuttered at the sheer impossibility of it all. A heartbeat ago, she was walking home from school. Mulling over the assignment the Court had given her. And then, she was here.
Where streetlamps and a cobblestone path should have been, were seraphim. They crowded around her ankles and blanketed the entire meadow floor. A voracious porcelain sea. But there, in the wind, floating along with the redolence of flowers was—blood.
The tang of salt and copper thickened, a wild, yearning thing. Her gaze snagged on a splash of red, the colour incongruous under the moonlight. Against better judgment, she found herself walking toward the red seraphim.
Heart pounding. Bile rising to her throat.
Seraphim were greedy flowers. With bodies that sway in a ceaseless dance and petals that glow as though bits and pieces of the sun were trapped within them. They savoured blood. A drop of it could make them more irresistible. A drop of it could make their fragrance sweeter. A drop of it could transform their colour.
From pristine white to brilliant red.
Memories flitted in and out of sight—eyes the colour of sin, a prince's mocking smile, Michael's arms around her, the lullaby of an opiate song. Her knees crumpled and distantly, she felt the shift of petals against her legs, the graze of dirt underneath. Whisper-soft.
An expanse of red seraphim stained the air with their heady scent. Lying amongst them, was a stuffed rabbit. Its periwinkle suit was ripped, its signature eye patch shredded. Burr Bunni. A popular toy within the city.
Pressing her lips together, the girl willed away the tightness in her throat. She hemmed her wrath into an animal that was more than just flesh and bone encased in fragile mortal skin. Meaningless apologies wilted on her tongue as the quiet stretched on and on until it felt real and powerful and ugly.
A growl resonated all around her, its faint vibration rumbling through the ground.
Something was watching her.
She forced herself to stand, to look away, to think. Unclenching fingers that had unwittingly curled into fists, she eyed this world of glass, a figment of imagination so vivid, it thrummed with the vibrancy of life and fairy tale wonder. It was the stuff of dreams. But nightmares were dreams, too.
Laughter came from everywhere and nowhere.
Cursing her luck, she dropped into a fighting stance. Wary of the shadows among the trees. She reached behind, seeking the tattooed spot just below her nape. With half a thought, there was the burn of ink and then, the press of a comforting weight against her hand.
The dagger caught the glint of the false moon. Enchanted steel tempered by holy flame. Its handle was unadorned, a gem winking at its pommel. Its iridescent blade etched with a pattern of intertwining monsters. Both alluring and grotesque.
Silksteel. Ever sharp. Ever hungry.
Human girl. Voices. So many sibilant, feminine voices: young and old, hideous and enthralling. All tinkling with the amusement of a shared secret. It seems you have gone astray.
"A storm is coming." She traced the monsters on her dagger, ignoring the phantom images flashing through her mind's eye. "Are you the one that's been taking the children?"
I take anything and anyone I please. There was laughter again. Precious trinkets and forgotten treasures, audacious youths and intriguing women. I take and take, be it with reason or mere whimsy. Just as I've taken you.
A lyrical none-answer. Typical. The girl twirled her dagger with an ease she'd trained hard to master. "I adore this sort of idle conversation. The hint of a threat, the inkling of trouble yet to be had. Well, here I am."
Yes, here you are at last. She heard the callous satisfaction in its tone. The shameless anticipation. Another dainty flower for my garden of faces. Oh, what gorgeous hair you have! Like starlight spun through with gold.
"You flatter me."
Guns were futile against the horrors that haunted the spaces between the human world. Instead of doing any real damage, the bullets only served to enrage them. Silksteel on the other hand—when wielded by the Graced—could slice through any armour, any plate. Feeding on the enemy's strength. Eating away its magic and devouring its very essence once the blade pierced its heart.
Under her touch, the hilt grew warm. Currents of exultation washing over her skin. Light flashed as the dagger reshaped itself into something longer and with more reach. The scythe's handle remained unadorned, its shimmering blade curving into a wickedly sharp edge. Its carved monsters writhing at the promise of violence.
"Come out and play," she said, scythe cutting the air with melodic notes.
Death had not been kind. So, neither would she.
Silksteel. A weapon of angels. A weapon of hunters. Fireflies glittered into existence, twinkling in myriad hues. Painting the night in whorls of colour and candied brightness. But, darling huntress, where is your halo? You make for quite interesting company.
"Revel in it." She glanced at the red seraphim and at the lonely toy bunny. Brushing off the weight on her chest, she shackled the havoc of emotions raging in her heart. She needed to calm down and think. Anger led to indecisions, indecisions led to mistakes, mistakes led to fear.
And fear, fear was fatal.
There was movement on her periphery, the glass world momentarily pulsing at the sudden electric charge bursting through the air. She could practically gobble up the monster's bloodlust.
The girl frowned, brows furrowing, at the tingling sensation that began to creep from the back of her head. Needle-like pinpricks shot across her temples. She winced. It was as though her brain was being poked and prodded.
Creed, the creature skulking around the borders of the illusion relished as it plucked the name from the embrace of her mind. Gabriel Creed, you and I are going to have such fun.
Wind sighed among the pink and white petals.
Gabriel dodged, scythe whistling. Something very sharp and very large slashed at the space where she'd been. Gouging a deep mark on the ground.
There and gone in an instant.
"Your kind has an avid fascination for names," Gabriel said. "I've often wondered why."
A chill scampered down her spine when she felt the creature's consciousness brush against her own. It was twisted and malignant and so full of faces. Beautiful faces. Heart-wrenching faces. Stolen faces.
Names have power. And power is what we always desire.
"Savant." Gabriel snatched its name like the tune of a familiar lullaby. "I didn't expect it would take you that long to find my name, though."
Navigating minds can be slippery, capricious affairs. Do you wish to know what I saw?
"Dresses and boys?" A snicker slipped past her mouth. "The dread I feel about the amount of homework due tomorrow?" Gabriel did not shrink back from its corrupted mind, did not let it sense her unease nor her relief. Relief that there was no trace of music, no otherworldly song.
Not a godling, then.
There was a pause, as though Savant was considering her. It was but a glimpse. Still, I saw something more—something darker. Glee coated the voices bouncing in her head. Covenants and courts and lies masquerading as truths. Such splintered secrets. Such monstrous sins. If I keep them, what will you give me in return? What shall I take from you in return?
"You make me sound so boring." The dreamy landscape fractured. Aela petals blew around her in fragrant swirls of pink. Falling, falling, falling. Endlessly falling. Just like that night, years ago.
Do you not hear it? Hear the cries of those you could have saved?
Her left—whirling, Gabriel sliced upwards. Silksteel rang against the barb of an enormous scaled tail. The impact jarring her teeth. Magic flowed in her body with explosive splendour, her scythe savouring the aggression hailing around her. Lending her the strength she needed. The strength she wanted.
"You need to be faster than that to catch me," she drawled.
The tail disappeared into thin air as a more powerful enchantment veiled her eyes. For all its cryptic drivel, Savant had a temper to go along with its sickening vanity. Both of which could be easily exploited.
Arrogant girl, such a fortress for a mind. Such grace for a speck of earth and clay.
"It's refreshing"—Gabriel swished her scythe theatrically before making an elegant curtsy—"to exceed expectations."
Laughter swelled, pealing like bells.
Gabriel withdrew to size up her opponent, ducking as a claw emerged from the obscurity of the illusion to swipe at her neck. She might have gasped when she saw what she was facing. Regardless of it all, it was still hard to grasp this reality. This reality of men and monsters and mortal gods.
The way you move and the way you fight, they are of angels and fey. You are quite a conundrum, no?
"Perhaps." Emerging from the camouflage of its glamour piece by startling piece, something from nothing in a span of a heartbeat, Savant was a dizzying cross between a serpent and a dragon.
A barbed tail peeked behind its overwhelming mass, its long sinuous body coiling around four powerful legs. Three torsos jutted from its beastly body, like puzzle pieces that were forced to fit together. Two of the three were scaled and slender, ending in enormous snake heads that snarled at her, purple tongues tasting the air. The snake on the right had a blind eye, its faded scar a vertical slit.
The serpentine heads circled their core: a bare human torso. The middle of the three. The odd one out. Its human eyes watched her. Watched her the way only the ageless could.
Sinister. Savage. Utterly without mercy.
For a second, Gabriel imagined what it would be like to paint this vicious beast—with its cunning stare and devious smile. Savant cocked its human head. Short black hair fell over one shoulder, barely skimming its collarbone and completely not covering its exposed breasts. Gabriel ignored the heat singeing her cheeks.
Its hands caressed those horrible snakes protruding at its sides. I love many things. Its lips never moved but its voices cascaded in her mind like fresh snow. Strange things, broken things, shiny things. I take and collect them all.
With a jolt, Gabriel saw its human face change. Auburn locks fell in rich curls to replace the black, its old mask discarded with desultory. A fresher face morphing into view. It was a little girl's face, rosy hair framing rosy cheeks and an endearing smile.
"She hugged her flimsy toy as though it was the one in need of saving." Savant's many voices thinned into the crystal clear of a child. Raising a hand to stroke the stolen face, Savant gave her a far too innocent smile. "She was a small thing. Dressed in laces and frills as all noble children are. Oh, you should have heard her scream. It was wonderful. Intoxicating. How she begged and begged as I tore her to shreds. And now, I have you. Another pretty flower. Come, let me hear the music of your screams."
Rage wound tightly around Gabriel's body, constricting her arms, her legs, her chest. Making it difficult to move. Difficult to breathe.
"You have the oddest of eyes. The precise, ever changing shade of the sea." Its face and voice shifted once more. This one so breathtakingly ravishing it nearly brought Gabriel to her knees. "Eyes of the deep. Eyes of the shallows. Won't you give them to me?"
"They are gifts." Gabriel tried to see past the staggering beauty and the suffocating anger. "Reminders."
"Of what, pretty flower?"
"Everything comes with a price."
Savant moved so fast. Snapping teeth and shaking earth. A hypnotic blur of emerald scales and coils and claws, kicking up a puff of white seraphim to flirt with the falling aelas and the twinkling fireflies.
Gabriel's scythe whipped in an arc, meeting the barbed tail in a shower of sparks. Her legs nearly buckled at its strength.
"I love it when flowers fight." Its human face was alight with unbridled joy. "Show me that you are not so easily trampled."
Keen eyes tracked the strokes of her blade. The shimmering scythe her brush. The glass world a canvas of obscene magic, deceit, and lost hope. The scarred snake slipped under her scythe's range, eager for the taste of flesh. A knife appeared between Gabriel's fingers, finding its mark into its other eye. With a flick of her wrist, another followed suit for good measure.
Blood rushed from the wound and fell in a stream of droplets to the ground. Seraphim drank their fill, transforming into brilliant shades of red. Suffusing the air with their fragrance.
Infuriated roars cleaved the dreamscape of the glass world, Savant no longer amused by the flower who refused to be trampled. Its snakes were in a frenzy. Maws peeled to reveal row upon row of pointy teeth. Gabriel didn't want to know exactly how pointy they were.
Its clawed foot lashed, and Gabriel bent backward. The blow sailing past her chin. A burning headache punctuated their dangerous waltz. Pain seared across her head, flaring hotter and brighter as the seconds dragged on. A testament to the other battle she waged.
A war of will and minds.
I will rip you apart! Savant's consciousness rammed against the walls of her mind, hunting for flaws.
Try harder. She flung her thoughts at the churning mass encroaching upon her.
Gabriel rolled back across the meadow floor, hurling a fistful of dirt into the other snake's eyes. Quick as fey, its tail struck. She dove to the side, narrowly avoiding it. A ribbon of blood traced the shallow cut on her arm.
Laughter clattered all around her. You fear.
Smelling injured prey, the two serpentine heads reared. They snapped at each other, trying to reach her first. Gabriel threw another knife at the eye of the uninjured snake, missing. She cursed with enough colour to paint a sunset across the skies. It took another three deft throws for one to sink home. Earning her another deafening roar.
The newly wounded snake recoiled. It collided with the blinded one, growling and hissing. Knocking the blinded snake aside, it hurtled at her. Maw opened wide.
Gabriel lunged, never hesitating. Heavenly magic a wild inferno in her body. Her scythe ripped a deep gash on its throat, silksteel cutting through the armoured scales as though they were anything less than that. Blood gushed out in a scarlet waterfall.
Seraphim drank and drank, turning the air even sweeter.
Human screams and bestial screams slammed into the night. The creature's face was shifting in a flurry of godly faces torn in agony. Low whines came from the blinded snake as it nudged the unmoving one.
"You are going to regret that." The words were spoken both mentally and physically. A thousand voices from a thousand lives ended in this forsaken world of glass.
No, she would not.
Gabriel dodged and rolled, weaving through the forest of claws and petals and teeth with restrained fury. Sweat in her eyes. Profanities on her tongue. Anger in her heart. Twisting and parrying, feeling the murmur of almost blows just hairsbreadths away. Gabriel struck sure and true. Her scythe whistling majestic notes in the evening air. Retribution swathed in flesh and blood, in skin and bone.
Ever sharp. Ever hungry. Wanting more.
She realized her mistake when Savant's tail made a sweep for her neck. Gabriel swung her scythe to block it and gasped, noticing the feint a little too late. For a spell, she was weightless—an angel of sorts, before her halo had shattered and her wings had faded, before the fall. The next, she was tumbling across the meadow floor. Her backpack doing little to cushion her landing.
At least she had the presence of mind to reshape her weapon into something smaller and less likely to disembowel her as she was flung to the dirt.
Caught you. Triumph laced its many voices. What a valiant yet futile effort it was.
Gabriel groaned, blinking the spots from her eyes. A sharp jab at her side told her that one or two of her ribs were not having a sensational time.
Sapio fille. Savant's voices strung through Gaia, the lilting ancient language of faerie, with little difficulty. Rotten girl. Gabriel had heard worse. Its elation was so potent, it leaked into her mental barriers, and her heart thundered with second-hand pleasure. Oh, where shall I start?
Gabriel spat the blood from her mouth, clasping her dagger tightly. A delicious current hummed against her skin. Her blade drank in the blood and the power of her enemy, as hungry as the seraphim swaying beneath.
She tried to stand but her body betrayed her. Gabriel collapsed to her knees, an alarming numbness soothing the borrowed magic that crackled through her veins. Breath wheezing, she grimaced at the tightness in her chest that was becoming harder to neglect.
"Venom," she panted, eyes straying from the greenish sheen on the creature's claws and barbed tail, to the blood on her arm. Gabriel clutched at her heart, the dagger in her hand dissolving into grains of light. Black ink an intricate scrawl on her palm.
Nicks and scratches never break bones. Its tail came into view, the pointed barb sharp enough to slice her in two. They only make you sweet. Pliant. Savant's tail slithered toward her, wrapping around her waist and lifting her from the ground. Bringing her closer to the two heads. One a bleeding and blinded serpent. One pretending to be human.
The tip of its tail hovered over the pulse of her neck. Such a lovely, lovely girl.
Everything was growing muddy. The fringes of Gabriel's vision began to darken as she struggled to keep her panic at bay. Each breath became a gasp, more laboured than the last. Her hands hung listless by her sides.
With a loud crack, Gabriel's head snapped left as Savant slapped her. Again and again and again. She could feel her lip split open and the patchwork of bruises it would bring come morning. The hold of its tail tightened, those hypnotic scales grating against her skin. Drawing blood.
The snake seethed, red tears falling from its wounded eye. Savant's changing human face stopped, and the mask it wore was divine in its beauty. Pert nose, high cheekbones, bow-shaped lips. Black hair in glorious tight coils. Its skin was a deep brown. Eyes a striking grey.
Isn't she heart breaking? Savant's voices were a symphony in her mind. Victorious. The face of an angel. I cannot recall her name, though. But I remember how she glowed with the wrath of Heaven. How her wings were tatters behind her back.
The barriers that Gabriel had been helplessly trying to hold up in her mind fell away. Exhaustion beckoned at her. Like a predator waiting to pounce, Savant's consciousness invaded hers. It swept over the near entirety of who she was in a wave of malice and blood-soaked pleas.
Gabriel shuddered, momentarily forgetting how to breathe. Its consciousness gripped her hard, filling almost every crevice of her mind.
"You are like a dream." She wanted to conjure the image of the toy rabbit. But did it matter? Why did she care so much in the first place? What was one more death in this world practically blooming with it?
"Gabriel."
Closing her eyes, Gabriel leaned forward, marvelling at the sound of her name. When she opened them, she found Savant blinking at her with pleasant surprise. A frown glossed those perfect lips and her heart ached. She knew she was the cause of it. She wanted to smooth out that tiny crease between its brows. She wanted—what did she want? She wanted—
A part of her knew that Savant could see itself the way she saw it. The way Gabriel admired the mesmerizing colours of its scales, its collection of ethereal faces. Surprise turned to confusion. Confusion turned to smugness. Savant eyeing her with new interest. It found another way to break her, she could read it all over the monster's stolen face.
Mine. The voices careened inside her skull. Gabriel Creed, you are mine.
Gabriel gave the thief of faces a sleepy smile.
Hesitantly, it raised its hand toward her face. Fingers tracing the arch of her cheekbones, the bruises on the corner of her mouth. Tilting her chin up. Those stolen eyes, a universe in their own right, dropped to her lips.
Gabriel saw it all.
Saw its vanity and pride unfurl once more at the fear that she did not show, at the disgust she no longer seemed to have. Saw its greed.
Beautiful, Gabriel thought.
Savant heard it, as easily as though Gabriel had said it out loud. But still, it faltered. With her mental shields down, it knew almost everything. It knew she spoke the truth.
You mean it. Truly mean it with every shred of your soul. Why?
"It is because you are." Her voice was reverent, awed.
Gabriel's vision focused and unfocused, her headache flaring even brighter, as Savant rifled through her thoughts. Astounded at the truth in her heart.
Savant moved closer.
"Beautiful." Gabriel could feel the coolness of its breath, smell the perfume of those bloody seraphim.
Say it again. Savant's gaze dropped once more to her mouth. Their lips were nearly touching when the creature froze. Its entire body going utterly still. Startled grey eyes darted wildly up to meet hers.
"Caught you," Gabriel smirked, slamming the last of her mental shields down. Trapping the creature's consciousness inside her own. Cutting it off from its body, rendering it more vulnerable than any child. "Mine."
What have you done! Malignant waves of thought roiled and crested, trying to drown her mind. But it was too late. Her barricades were as strong as ever. Impregnable. Rising high above the bristling storm. I had your mind completely wrapped around my own!
"You had nearly all of me. But not everything."
Liar! The voices thundered, booming against her skull. How dare you! Free me at once!
"May your soul forever seek the eternal land of milk and honey." There was the burning sting once again. "May you wander in vain." Fragments of light glittered on her palm as the ink solidified into her dagger. "And may you never find peace." The creatures etched on its shimmering blade were strangely still. Watchful. Hungry.
Liar, I will rip you apart!
"Beautiful myth, I never tell lies."