When We Were Still Human by Vaughn Foster (best ereader for textbooks .txt) 📕

Paris. He glanced around the destroyed ring until his gaze fell on the dead gargoyle. He sighed.

“I’m going to kill them!” Freya lunged at Avia, but was caught midair by two of the wooden soldiers from earlier.

“I understand your sentiment, Freya,” the ringmaster said, resting a cold glare over the intruders. “But I don’t think that will be appropriate.”

“Why not?” a relatively put back together Freyr demanded. “We’ve spent three years preparing for this!”

“Yes,” the carnie answered tersely. He twisted his thick mustache then adjusted the top hat. “But we were told that there may be unexpected guests.”

Freyr stopped fighting and stuck out his lip. “‘And whatever happens, we should let them go,’” he mumbled, quoting what had to have been some higher authority.

“Eyr.” Paris stepped towards him, then took Castor’s form. The ringmaster raised an eyebrow in surprise, but Freyr made no movement. “Eyr,” Castor repeated. “It’s me.” He reached out a hand, but was violently swatted away.

“Don’t touch me, Celestial.” Freyr crossed his arms and looked away.

Freya shrugged off her captors. “You’ve ruined one of our biggest shows yet! Do you know how this will affect stocks and ticket sales?”

“Be serious!” Castor pleaded. “You two were gods, then rulers of the Northern Kingdom. You’re content dressing in stupid costumes and dancing on ropes?” His expression flattened and he stared at them both in the eyes. “What happened in that forest?”

Freyr scoffed. “Nothing your daft mind could understand.”

Avia shivered. She stared at both sets of twins and felt a twitch in the aether. She closed her eyes and saw the real Freyr as well. He too was suspended by tiny strings in the dark cell of his mind. There was no life in his blue eyes. Only regret.

“Here’s what’s going to happen.” Everyone turned to face the ringmaster. Avia could feel the fire in her chest begin to reignite, but she was still too tired to battle head-on. Besides… She glanced up at the bleachers to see thousands of eyes glaring down. Selkie, Atlantean, dragon, lycan… If she and Gemini tried to fight, it would probably end up far more unbalanced than a three-on-two. Avia grit her teeth and breathed out a huff of smoke.

“What do you want?” she growled.

“We’ve been instructed not to harm you. However, that still leaves the problem of them.” He motioned to the angry audience. “At this rate, you’ll be torn apart before you even find an exit.”

“So, what do you suggest?” Paris asked as Castor looked over the crowd.

“Nothing too elaborate. I’ll snap my fingers and you’ll return to your hotel. I’ll snap them again and the audience will forget about your little hoopla. In their minds, the gargoyle entered the tent, went out of control, and then collapsed. It will still hurt our ratings, but it’s better than the alternative."

“A spell of that magnitude is impossible!” Castor exclaimed, motioning around them. “There are what, 10,000 people here?!”

“4, 671,” the ringmaster said patiently. “Now, if you’ll excuse us.”

An invisible wave pushed past Avia and she struggled to keep her balance. Her gaze shot behind the ringmaster. The darkness in the aether hadn’t gone away, but focused to one point. It wasn’t visible, but she felt as though she could reach out and touch it. It had never been that strong before. The Mark on her arm pulsed and she finally understood. She locked eyes with the ringmaster, who simply raised the corner of his lip in a knowing grin. Before either of them could move, an icy gale tore through the room.

Please. Be quiet. 

Everyone stilled. Avia was thankful she wasn’t the only one who heard the hoarse whisper. The ringmaster paled and began babbling, frantically waving in placation. Then he melted. Just like the clowns, he was no more than a puddle. Avia turned to the Norse twins only to see them blow away into dust.

“Castor!” She whipped around for Gemini and reached for their hand. They lunged toward her but burst into ash the second their fingers met hers.

Avia spun in a tight circle and stared in horror. The world was melting, and breaking, and shattering into a million pieces. From her peripheral, she could see the black past the falling shards. She tried to step towards the shadow, but was knocked prostrate onto the ground. She couldn’t control the flames anymore. Power pumped and surged through every vein and overflowed every cavity. She choked on the smoke and fought to look up. Most of the circus was gone. All that was left was the dirt patch she was lying on and a few sections of bleachers.

Something like a soft breeze blew over her. Squinting against the cacophony of carnage, she saw it. The same shadow from before now stood silhouetted against the encroaching darkness. It was shapeless; but if she closed her eyes, she could see a humanoid form with arachnid protrusions jutting from its back.

The thing stepped closer. The fire went out. Avia gasped as oxygen rushed into her lungs and feeling returned to her limbs.

“I thought your kind were extinct,” it spoke into her mind. “Raven makes dreamwalkers on occasion, but a natural born is rare.” 

“You’re a demon,” Avia said quietly. Something like fear fought to grip her heart but it couldn’t latch on. They were in the nothing. The void. She glanced around the surrounding blackness before turning back to the shape. She couldn’t feel fear in this place. She couldn’t feel anything.

“I don’t need this anymore,” it said. “Would you give this to Michael?” 

Avia felt a weight in her hands and looked down. It was a large book, the cover rough and black with specks of gold. The pages were yellow and wrinkled but seemed well-maintained overall.

When she looked up, the demon was gone. Seconds passed but the silence didn’t break. She lifted the cover of the