Between Deaths: Chapter 1

First Boss Fight: The Cult That Raised You

Holding down the young woman’s arm, Xara can’t help but think how tired she is of sacrificing people. As if reading her thoughts, the sacrifice makes a last effort to combine the power of all the muscles in her body to heave herself off the slab. It’s no use, though. Nine Aeon Priestesses are holding down the young black-haired woman.

Xara makes the mistake of looking into the sacrifice’s eyes. She can sense her weakness; she is already looking right at her when Xara looks up after securing the metal cuff around the woman’s wrist. There’s something about how the eerie purple light reflects off the woman’s wet, verdant eyes that tugs at Xara’s heart. She looks a little like her sister did at that age. She sighs as she steals a glance around the slab to see what her fellow priestesses’ faces are saying. They’re all cold and avoidant.

A feeling claws at the back of Xara’s head. She’s been wanting to retire from this life for a while now, but it’s not like an Aeon Priestess can just quit! They’re indoctrinated to the Way before they can even walk. None of them knows their families. Despite living in the same commune their whole lives, they barely even know each other. The Wayfinder doesn’t let any priestesses speak to one another, likely to avoid the potential for secret plots. On top of that, there’s the Guardian to worry about, too. If she tries to leave, she’ll surely be killed.

Her attention moves to the sensation of her silver daggers bouncing against the side of her leg, as she continues to place both hands on the sacrifice’s chest to limit her thrashing.

Fuck it. Without warning, and in one sweeping movement, Xara whips her hands down to her hips, grasps the hilts of her daggers and raises them to the throats of the priestesses on either side of her. She slashes them both at the same time and then launches herself onto the table and towards the priestesses directly in front of her. One catches a dagger to the chest, the other is stabbed in the back as she tries to run away. Xara makes quick work of the remaining four. Instead of running, they make the mistake of staying to face her. Unluckily for them, she has been winning their practice battles since they were kids. No time for reminiscing now.

After dispatching them all, she runs around the table and presses all the necessary buttons to release the metal clasps holding down the sacrificial woman. Now free, the woman hesitates, staring back at Xara in disbelief.

“Come on! Go!”

“H-how do I get out?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Xara grabs her by the hand, yanks her off the table, and drags her toward the only doorway in the ceremonial chamber. “I just killed 8 people to free you, can you help me out a little?” At first the woman stumbles behind her, but eventually she’s running well enough that Xara is able to let her go and trust her to follow. They take dimly lit tunnel after tunnel, going east, west, and even down, until they finally reach the long, straight path up to the surface. It’s all stairs of course.

Xara grabs the woman’s hand, knowing she is probably fatigued and weak from hunger. They take the stairs two at a time. Adrenaline is pumping through her and she hopes she can transfer some to the other woman through touch alone. Xara slams herself against the giant stone doors covered in metalwork. “Push!” She shouts to the woman. She takes the briefest of moments to notice the woman’s tattered white dress and the clean tear streaks down her dirty face. The young woman’s face grimaces as the sharp metal and hard stone press into her flesh as she forces her thinly veiled body against the door with all her might. It’s not much better for Xara. She’s not wearing any armor at the moment, just her ceremonial robes and gloves. Despite the pain, they continue to push until there’s a big enough crack created between the two doors for them to escape.

They slide through the crack, scraping their bodies one last time against the stone. Xara looks up to see the Guardian standing in front of them, just a few yards away. The hideous beast is looking directly at them. It’s about four heads taller than Xara, with a feline-like face, tail, and hind legs. Its chest and forelegs are humanoid, tapering into oversized hands, their knuckles calloused and thick from constant contact with the ground.

She heard tales of this creature and seen glyphs of it in books since she was small. None of those things ever hinted how to kill it, though. It was meant to keep the priestesses in, as much as it was there to keep trespassers out. It was largely violet in color with fluorescent, glowing eyes that reminded her of sunflowers. It’s said that this being is the spawn of their mother goddess and a human Keeper hundreds of years ago. But how to get away from it? The Guardian tilts its head and lets out a sub-sonic rumble that they feel in their chests. As the light glints off its eyes, Xara sees that its pupils appear slightly cloudy. She decides that the best thing to do now is distract it and allow the black-haired woman to get away.

Xara runs towards the beast, but slightly to the right where there’s a transformer and a lone light pole jutting up from the ground. Luckily for her, the beast is old and not as fast as she thought it would be. Its eyes are zeroed in on her. As she leaps onto the transformer, she screams to the black-haired woman to run for it. The woman needs no further instructions and is off as fast as her bare, atrophied feet will take her.

Xara leaps from the transformer onto the light pole, grabbing as high up as possible. She uses her momentum to swing her weight around the pole and smash her feet into the forehead of the Guardian right as it reaches her. As they fly, Xara plunges her daggers into the ancient beast’s eyes. Hearing it screech in pain, she feels remorse for a split second. She tumbles to the ground, recovers, and speeds off in the direction Former Sacrifice headed.

As she runs, the landscape grows thicker with trees; before she knows it, she’s in a dense forest with a river running through it. The river is shallow enough that she feels she can safely wade through it, so she does. Once on the other side, Xara spots the woman on her hands and knees, breathless by a nearby tree.

“It looks like it’s not following us,” Xara peers through the trees in the direction they came from.
“Why did you save me?” The woman asks between gasps for air.

“I don’t know. It was convenient. I figured I could rescue you as an excuse to finally escape, or potentially use you as a distraction to save myself later if it came down to it.”

“You really have a way with words.”

“Do you have a name?”

“Of course I do. It’s Amna. Do you have one or are you just ‘Priestess Number Six’?”

“Wow, your sense of humor is pretty biting for someone who was a damsel in distress two seconds ago. First of all, I was Aeon Priestess Number Two. Secondly, my name is Xara Nowhere.”

“Nowhere? Seriously,” she scoffed, holding back a laugh.

“Yeah, seriously. We all have the same last name. Had the same last name. Somebody probably just rolled the dice on it twenty years ago.”

“Are you going to kill me too?”

“What would be the point of that? It’d be a waste of all the effort I just expended. You’re free to go wherever you like. You’re not going to get real far like that, though. Your feet must be killing you.” Xara looks down at Amna’s feet but is surprised by what she sees. Her feet are incredibly pale, almost devoid of any color besides the turquoise of her veins. They’re also completely unscathed. That doesn’t make any sense. They just ran the equivalent of three miles through underground tunnels and forest, all riveted metal, rough stone, and dirt. Any normal person would be at least a little scuffed up. They’re hardly even dirty.

Xara raises her eyes to meet Amna’s, but it’s too late. In an instant, Amna is on top of her with her mouth on her throat. Xara feels a piercing pain shoot through her neck and into her chest. Her body quickly goes weak, all the strength and adrenaline sapped away. As Amna lowers her to the ground, she feels a numbing sensation creep over her. The sounds of the night forest are growing dimmer. She feels like she’s drowning in an icy river.

“Why,” she croaks out the word just as her consciousness leaves her.

“Lives for a life.”