Following Ryva through the trail of carnage, Bren stayed next to Archer’s side. His eyes were on his feet, watching as each step sent swirls of dust around his boots. Though the thin trails were almost white, it only served as a reminder to Ryva’s whirling dark smoke. 

His eyes flicked up to the demon, leading them forward once again. Just looking at him made Bren’s pulse race, and this time it wasn’t because of his charming guile. 

Bren had been warned all his life about the dangers of demons and eldritch creatures. Somehow he hadn’t been prepared for this. One request from him had meant more bloodshed and lost lives…and it was terrifying to consider the consequences. He was bound to Ryva, every bit as guilty and his magic just as savage… What would this do to his soul in the end?

Ryva paused in his stride, Bren blinking up to look at why the demon had stopped. 

They were at the gate. 

Standing before the solid steel doors, Bren craned his neck to look up. It was so much taller than he’d expected when they’d been hiding in the treeline, massive and imposing. The spikes that adorned it looked wickedly sharp, Bren swallowing as he imagined being impaled upon them if the doors swung open. 

He reached out to grip Archer’s coat, wanting to feel nearer to his brother.

Archer shifted closer, putting a hand on his back in solidarity. “It’ll be alright,” he murmured, his gaze fixated on Ryva, eyes brimming with distrust. “Whatever’s out there, we’ll take it on together.”

Nodding Bren sucked in a deep breath, feeling sick as he smelled the raw scent of blood; he could even taste the iron tang hanging in the air. 

Part of him questioned if there were more prosecutors waiting for them on the other side, but he didn’t have time to ask it out loud. He watched as Ryva raised his hand high, swiping it across the air much like he had over the pages of Bren’s journal. 

Bren winced at the tight, lancing pain in his chest, his hand pressing against his ribs almost instantly as if he could lessen it with pressure. His face was contorted, hissing out quick breaths as he fought through the agony and watched Ryva’s magic unfurl before them… 

Their magic. 

Strange glowing symbols and runes spanned across the gate, blue light illuminating from them as they formed into a vertical strip of sigils and aligned at the center between the doors. There were heavy, clanking sounds from mechanisms inside the metal; giant gears turning as Ryva moved them with magic. 

A tumultuous whine resonated in the air around them, the gate yawning inward slowly. It was as if unseen forces were dragging it open, dazzling light spilling through the widening crack until Bren could see the barrier just on the other side. 

No prosecutors came through the gate; there was no one left to stop them. 

“Well?” Ryva turned, the light haloing around his sinister form as he smiled at Bren. He held out an arm as if he were welcoming Bren through, uttering with a smirk, “Ladies first.”

Bren bristled, his jaw clenched as his heart raced with the rush of indignation. “What did you say to me?”

Ryva chuckled, his hot eyes scanning over Bren’s face before he murmured, “Apologies, I forgot you prefer it when I call you master.”

Blushing against his better judgment, Bren let out a snarling huff. Ryva was learning far too quickly how to get under his skin, just like he had with Archer. 

Leaving Archer’s side, Bren marched to stand in front of Ryva. Despite the demon being far taller, Bren didn’t hesitate to square up to him, livid and exhausted as he snapped, “People died.” 

He thought of his mother, the patrons in the cavern…now it was the guards. Even where they stood there was so much blood surrounding them. 

Bren wanted Ryva to feel sympathy and understand the weight of his actions… But his red eyes were cold and distant, only angering Bren further and prompting him to say, “You killed people, brutally, and in such a feral manner. We stand with their bodies torn apart and blood soaking at our feet. And you think it’s funny to tease me? You don’t care?” Bren felt choked as he stared up into Ryva’s ghoulish, haunting eyes; they had never looked so monstrous to him. 

Ryva smirked, raising a brow as he murmured, “Would it make you feel better if I lied?” 

Growling out a noise of disgust, Bren shook his head. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised this is your answer. You're just a demon after all.” Though he knew the words wouldn’t penetrate through Ryva’s demonic resolve, he wanted it to. Bren had never felt so much guilt and agony over the past few days, and to be near someone so callous and cruel… It made him feel all the worse for summoning Ryva in the first place. 

Bren strode past Ryva, ignoring him as he called over his shoulder, “Archer. Let’s go.” 

As they stepped through the gates, Ryva last to follow, Bren felt the snagging pain in his chest ease, the gate whining closed behind them. There was a slam of metal that shook the ground, the gate automatically snapping locked once more. 

Though Bren wanted to keep walking as far away from Ryva as he could, he found his steps stuttering to a sudden halt, only a few feet from the border. 

At the city center of Vitalos, the barrier had barely been noticeable—translucent and shimmering against the starry night. Here it was an opaque curtain of light, shielding the view of what lay beyond. He could feel a gentle breath of wind from where the magic flowed endlessly, but it was silent, Bren captivated by the dazzling sparkles that shifted with iridescent colors as it caught the light. Like rushing rapids in a waterfall, streams of magic plummeted into a massive crevasse that split the earth just a few steps from where Bren stood frozen. 

Archer’s voice cut through the silence, making Bren flinch as he asked, “How exactly do we get past it?” 

Tearing his gaze away from the barrier, Bren turned to follow his brother’s hardened stare, both of them waiting for Ryva to respond. 

The demon seemed amused, taking his sweet time to saunter over to the barrier, standing purposefully close to Bren. 

Gritting his teeth, Bren stared at him head on, refusing to bow his head or look away again. 

Ryva’s mouth curled up in pleasure, his eyes narrowing as if he were accepting Bren’s challenge. “Should I show you, master?” he whispered, leaning in closer to Bren.  

“Stop calling me that,” Bren shouted, louder than he’d meant to. His hands were in fists at his side, his throat tight as he looked up at the demon. “I’m done playing your games.”

Chuckling, low and quiet enough that only Bren could hear him, Ryva let out a weary sigh. “That’s a shame. We could have enjoyed ourselves together.” He took a step closer, leaning in so his lips nearly brushed Bren’s ear as he murmured, “I’ve never met an Umbra who cared so diligently for strangers, let alone those that would harm him… It’s quite endearing.” Ryva pulled away, stopping so his face was just in front of Bren’s, eyes burning as they stared through him. “Won’t you forgive me, Brennon?”

Bren grunted as he felt his spine shiver, his stomach rolling at how intimately close the demon was. He swallowed, holding Ryva’s gaze as he responded coldly, “I don’t need to forgive you. I don’t need to do anything for you. I’m the one that summoned you, so you answer to me. Right?”

Ryva straightened, his smile fading as his brow twitched in annoyance. “Correct,” he said sharply, his answer curt and abrupt as he crossed his arms over his broad chest.

Gesturing toward the barrier, Bren was quick to order, “Then do as I say, and help us part the barrier.” 

There was no witty or seductive response from the demon as he stepped away from Bren. While Ryva looked increasingly agitated, Archer seemed pleased, patting Bren on the back before he squeezed his shoulder. 

Together they watched as Ryva reached out over the chasm and toward the barrier, his hand glowing as he touched it. It parted for him like heavy silk, glittering in its own luminescence like a portal forming before them.

Bren felt desperate for his first glimpse of what was on the other side. His heart was racing, light spilling through the opening with a brilliant, blinding glow, blocking the world beyond that awaited them. He squinted, trying to make out what was in the distance, but the shifting magic of the barrier created ripples in the air, blurring whatever was visible through it in an array of colors and hues. 

Bren’s gaze flicked downward to where he could see further into the chasm, the barrier flowing into a void of pitch, swallowing the light as it seemed to go on forever. Though he couldn’t make out details, he could see the blur of darkness spanning the ground past the wall of magic. It was wide, stretching out past any length that Bren would dare to try and jump.  

“You expect us to just walk across?” Bren asked, his gaze snapping to bore into Ryva.

The demon raised a brow as he stared at Bren. “Is there something you want from me, Brennon?” he asked, a cunning, knowing tone carrying through his nearly gleeful voice. 

Archer was right, he should have been more careful giving Ryva an order. All he’d done was ask the demon to part the barrier, not form a way across the gorge. 

Though he wondered if it really mattered, likely using the same amount of magic in the end, it irritated Bren that Ryva was practically forcing him to make yet another demand of the demon and increase his inevitable toll.

Bren turned to look at his brother. “You got us out of the black market,” he said, pointedly speaking loud enough for Ryva to hear him, “could you use your magic again to form wings and carry me across?” Bren glanced over his shoulder at the demon, saying with a forced and sickly smile, “I’m sure Ryva will have no problems following us on his own.” 

Seeing Ryva’s red eyes narrow, Bren turned back to face his brother. 

Archer looked wary, grimacing as his gaze flicked to Bren’s chest, pointing at the faint glow that still shone under his shirt. “I think…I’ll be needing that,” he murmured, staring at the vessel that hung around Bren’s neck. 

Bren tugged at the chain without hesitation, ducking out of it as he placed it around his brother’s neck instead. 

Archer’s breath deepened, hesitant before he touched the vessel and brushed his fingers against it. Gold dust shed from where Archer’s skin met the stone, the pendant glowing brighter as he made contact with it. 

Triumphant, Bren turned to face Ryva, the demon’s smile dissipating as they glared at each other. Ryva still stood with his hand parting the barrier, his eyes cunning and calculated as he looked over Bren. 

As Archer put a hand around Bren’s waist, the two of them stepping closer to the small, glowing gap Ryva had formed in the barrier, the demon caught Bren’s arm. 

Bren frowned, staring at where Ryva’s hand wrapped around his thin arm, eyes flicking up to meet his gaze. Though Archer’s grip tightened on him protectively, Bren’s heart betrayed him, his pulse stuttering as he asked Ryva, “What is it? Jealous, I didn't ask for your help?”

Ryva was quiet for a moment, his expression calm and serious as he murmured, “You don’t need my help, and you don’t need Archer’s either.” As if sensing Bren was charging up a scathing retort, Ryva shook his head, stating, “It’s an illusion.” 

“What is?” Bren asked, his voice blistering. 

Jerking his chin toward the chasm, Ryva answered, “The abyss. It’s a trick to keep people trapped here.” He let go of Bren, stepping confidently forward, off the edge of the crevasse…and into the dark cavity of the earth. 

Though Bren’s stomach dropped watching him, expecting him to plummet into the open ground or at least for his wings to form, Ryva remained standing…on what looked like nothing but thin air. 

Bren’s eyes widened, Archer’s hand falling from around him as they both gaped at where Ryva stood. Heart racing, Bren slowly inched closer to what looked like the edge, testing the air beyond it with the toe of his boot. He felt the moment it met something solid, sliding the rest of his foot out over the chasm to find some form of invisible earth beneath him. 

Though Bren’s stomach felt like liquid, pulse stammering as his nerves wracked him, he walked over the mouth of the ravine. His knees felt weak as he stopped next to Ryva, standing a breath away from the shimmering opening in the barrier. “This is it then? When I step through this…we’ll be in the Wastelands?” Looking up at Ryva, he half expected a smug retort or a smirking smile. 

The demon surprised him, his expression unfeigned as he answered, “This is it.” He nodded to the opening of magic, still held open by his bare hand. “It isn’t just the Wastelands on the other side of the border…” He blinked back to Bren, a small, sincere smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he answered, “Whether you realize it or not, everything beyond this point is exactly what you’ve been waiting for.”