Ikaris looks at the mirror with an uneasy expression. He's still wary of me despite his overwhelming power. He continues watching what I'm letting him see. Ikaris's focus centers on the mirror's face, reflecting his position.
He's trying to understand the mirror, to see what's so special about it. However, the answer is nothing. This is a normal mirror. I see it as a normal mirror.
That is my perception of it.
That's my belief. Although my belief isn't what matters, it is Ikaris. The very way he hesitates to act shows that he assumes the mirror is special. Yet, all Ikaris is doing is looking at a mirror, seeing himself. He sees how he looks, so angelic and majestic on the surface, but he stands as my predator, ready to end this hunt.
Out of my two eyes, I watch the mighty Dauntless. On the spiritual plane, I don't have to see through my eyes. I can change my perception in my mind. I see his reflection, and I can feel him sink into the reality the mirror shows him. That feeling is thick as the dread in my heart, that tiny egg cracking, threatening to break my resolve despite the Radiance hiding within me.
I am fearful. That's the truth. It's nothing to be ashamed of. If one runs from their reality, reality simply chases them until they know the truth. You can attempt to run forever, except reality, the truth, has no stamina. No sense of exhaustion, it simply is. Fear what it contains all you want, but what the reality shows is the truth, no matter what pain it brings.
Ikaris sees the scar running across his face. I can sense him recalling how it came to be—from war.
Gray swirls around the twilight, around me, around Ikaris, between us. I close my eyes as reality shifts. I don't need to see it. I allow that Dauntless do the work.
His consciousness bleeds into the mirror as he continues looking at it. Soon, the mirror dissolves in my hand without shattering. Something shifts me from my position.
Everything is in reverse. I'm lying in a stream, it's taking me where the reality is believed to be. Nothing is as it was. The reality Ikaris saw through the mirror becomes the one we're standing in.
I wish I could have that power to shift reality as such. Only someone like a Dauntless could achieve such a feat. A human could never.
However, the very power Ikaris poured out leaves his back open to me without him realizing it. He still believes he's looking at the mirror.
The Dauntless will never know my lunge, the spear thrusting toward his back.
This is my vic—
Fire flares. His twin-sun eyes snap down into mine—his hand clamps around the shaft of the spear.
"You're cruel, Inquisitor," Ikaris says. His voice is soft, almost gentle, and heavy enough to shake worlds. "You take advantage of my humanity. How petty."
His gaze pins me. The weight of it crushes down on my shoulders. For a moment, I can't speak, can't breathe.
But the Saints are watching. I will not let him break me.
"Such is the way of a human, Dauntless," I rasp. "Pettiness is human nature. Something you aren't able to comprehend. You forfeited your kind long ago. Humans are cruel."
I release the spear, drop low, and drive my knee into his chest.
His eyes flare wide as the blow lands. Wings of celestial flame snap open, hurling him backward and tearing his grip from the shaft. Fire billows around him, a dome of searing light closing like a fist.
The spear whips back into my hand, drawn by the last threads of Radiance still clinging to it. Flames rise everywhere, filling the twilight like violent tempests, forming a dome of protection. My wings of Radiance return, shooting me forward. I cock the spear back, aim for the Dome's center, and drive through the twilight, parting through the gray until it reaches the dome.
Open…!
The spear crashes, coming into contact with Ikaris's flames, the spearhead scraping against its protective shield—the surrounding fire whirls, meeting the spear, attempting to drive it off.
I snap my fingers, and my wings of Radiance dissipate, sending them to reinforce the spear. My momentum keeps me flying toward our clashing powers.
I will not lose here. I have aspirations. I have conviction. I have the purpose. No entity will keep me from having that Seer. Especially not someone who abandoned their mortality to serve as a pawn to that thing!
The spear and the fire clash as a blinding burst of pure light erupts from the center, consuming everything in its path and exploding into a chaotic force of power.
It devours the twilight first, then me.
For an instant, I feel Radiance peel and crack, burning away from me like old parchment.
All I see is white.
Then nothing.
For a while, there is only weightlessness: no sight, no sound, just the echo of my own pulse fading.
Then reality slams back into place.
Something tightens around my neck, brutal and unforgiving. Heat crawls up my spine. My eyes snap open—Ikaris is holding me over his head, arm locked around my throat, placing me among the stars.
Something wraps around my neck, its grasp tightening like a noose. There's a rising heat burning me up. Finally, my eyes slowly open: Ikaris is holding me over his head, placing me within the stars.
I glance at the Dauntless's hand, seeing silver lines cracking up his wrist. They reappear just above his collar, the silver cracking deep into his spiritual body.
So, the mighty Dauntless did receive wounds during that clash.
"You're out of tricks. I assumed you had one more arriving after that crude kick, but it was stubborn arrogance," the Dauntless whispers. "I apologize, but I must now take your life."
A chortle escapes my throat. "Apologizing as you take my life? And I am cruel. You're a mere hypocrite, Ikaris, the Forsaken. What is your intent with the Seer? To purge him? No, I doubt that. If that were your objective, you would have left him and me alone, as that is the bargain. But I sense it's something more—much more. The change of your name from Purgemaster to Forsaken."
Life leaks from my wound on my back. Black edges my vision as dread is replaced with the slow, encroaching understanding of death hovering over me, standing over my shoulder.
I stare into the Dauntless's eyes, and they're filled with exhaustion, not from the fight, but from the past.
"My intentions with the Seer stay with me, Inquisitor. The boy belongs with me. He and I will leave Bruis and leave the Inquisition behind."
A last grin crawls across my face as I stare into Ikaris's star-like eyes. "So that's what you've forsaken, the bargain the Dagda made. You regret your masterful killings, and now you seek a reprieve from the guilt you suddenly hold. How honest. However, you won't get that chance. The Seer belongs to the Inquisition. Their crimes from 300 years ago are yet to be forgiven."
Curiosity slowly takes Ikaris. "How will you even escape from my grasp? You've lost this duel. It's over. You have no Radiance to use."
I shake my head. "The Veil cannot block the Saints. They linger everywhere, on all planes."
My hand rises over my head, reaching toward the stars. My fingers point to a star, pinch it, then pluck it from the heavens, the light shining in my grasp.
"A Shepherd always watches over their every lamb. Even if one leaves the ninety-nine."
The star in my hand blazes with a brilliance, shooting golden-white rays in every direction. Its radiance streaks into the twilight, overwhelming Ikaris's hold on my neck. His starry eyes watch intently as the Radiance halts him. Bright, golden-white light bursts forth from the star, encircling both of us in a luminous cage.
The Radiance converges around Ikaris, tightening on all sides, pulling him away from where he stands. The cage then pierces reality, ripping a black hole into the spiritual realm and into the Veil. The luminous cage clamps Ikaris's limbs together, sinking into the Veil.
"Do have a wonderful time between the planes, Dauntless. You'll have infinity to reflect on your many, many killings."
The Dauntless's expression wasn't what I expected. His gaze stared, not with dread or worry, but with inconvenience.
As he sinks between the planes, he speaks one last time: "You underestimate my ability to shift between the planes. When I return to the mortal plane, I will end you. You will not return to dust. I will make you into ash."
There was no rage in his voice, only certainty.
Then Ikaris is gone.
Despite it being my victory, I dread the hunting Dauntless for when he escapes, whether I leave Bruis or not, he will come for me.
However, it's the will of the Interceder.
All crimes must receive their justice.