I attempted to laugh at the sheer absurdity of the situation, but all that escaped me was a weak cough. “I saved you,” I managed to croak out.

  “I know,” she replied with a sigh, “but don’t pretend it was out of the goodness of your heart. You wanted a way into the resistance. Admit it.”

  “I only asked because it made sense to work together. But whatever helps you sleep better at night,” I said, shrugging weakly.

  She turned her gaze away, her fists clenched so tightly her knuckles whitened. For a moment, I thought this might be the end, but when she looked back at me, her expression was more frustrated than furious. “You’re right. That’s what makes this so hard.,” she said, her voice trembling with a mix of gratitude and sorrow. “But I can’t let you live. Would you let your enemy walk away, only to spend the rest of your days looking over your shoulder, knowing one careless moment could be your end?”

  I guess she was trying to convince herself more than me. Still, even if the odds of talking my way out were slim to none, I had to try. “First off, even an old woman could dodge that spell of mine, so I doubt I’d catch anyone off guard with it. But I get your point. What I don’t get is why we have to be enemies.”

  She glared at me as if I were mocking her. “I know,” I continued quickly, “killing Amra didn’t exactly help build goodwill between us. But for the sake of my life, I’m willing to move past a lot of things.”

  A faint, fleeting smile crossed her face before it was replaced by cold detachment. “I know what you’re trying to do, but I’ve delayed this long enough,” she said, pulling a sword from one of the guards and stepping toward me.

  “Wait,” I said, my mind racing to find anything that might buy me more time. “If you won’t spare me for my charming personality, then maybe for my extensive knowledge.”

  At least that got her to pause. “I doubt you know anything that would make me reconsider,” she said, her tone icy.

  “Well, let’s start with this: until recently, you were a literal god,” I said.

  Unfortunately, she didn’t seem impressed. “So you figured it out, or maybe Sedeus ranted in his delusional state. Either way, if you thought that would save you, I may have overestimated you.”

  I raised a hand in a gesture of surrender. “That was just the introduction. You want the juicy part? I know why you had to jump ship and descend to earth.” I almost added “like rats,” but thankfully, I caught myself in time.

  Her eyes widened slightly, and I knew I had her attention. “You’re bluffing,” she said, though her voice lacked conviction.

  I smiled weakly. “You know, even talking is incredibly painful right now, not to mention all the blood I’m spitting. The least you could do is toss a tiny heal my way. It’s not like I stand a chance against you and your friends here.”

  The fact that she was even considering my offer meant I had her undivided attention. She stepped closer, and my heart raced, even though I was almost certain she wasn’t going to kill me—at least not yet. Instead, she reached out with her unarmed hand and touched my shoulder. A wave of relief washed over me, though, like before, it ended too quickly, leaving me once again in pain. Still, I no longer felt like I was dying, and my breathing had returned to normal.

  “Now speak,” she said, her voice sharp, “before I change my mind.”

  I managed a weak chuckle, grateful that it didn’t hurt this time. “I don’t think you understand how negotiations work. If I just tell you everything, what’s stopping you from killing me anyway?”

  She raised her sword again, her eyes narrowing. “Maybe I’ll just kill you right now,” she said, her tone icy.

  There was no turning back now. I had to call her bluff. “Go ahead,” I said, keeping my voice steady. “It’s not like I could stop you.”

  She didn’t lower the sword immediately, which didn’t exactly fill me with confidence, but I held her gaze, refusing to look away. After a tense moment, she finally dropped the sword to the floor with a clatter. “Fine,” she said, her tone shifting to something almost polite. “I’ll just get an empath to read your mind.”

  This time, I couldn’t hold back a laugh, and she looked at me with a mix of annoyance and expectation. “I’m sorry,” I said quickly, realizing there was no point in antagonizing her further. “It’s just that I’m immune to mind spells.”

  She scoffed, clearly unimpressed. “I might have been unwilling to call your little bluff earlier, but no one is immune to a skilled empath. Sure, some are resistant, and the process can be excruciatingly painful, but they always get results,” she said, her confidence unwavering.

  Interesting, I thought. She was either less informed than the other gods or had lost some of her knowledge when she descended. “You must have been a new god,” I said, testing the waters. “The others figured it out in seconds.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “So, you’ve met other gods?” she asked, her voice a mix of disbelief and curiosity.

  “Yeah, like three or four,” I replied, keeping it deliberately vague. “Even as gods, they couldn’t read my mind. I doubt your little empaths stand a chance.”

  Her expression darkened. “Well, there’s always torture,” she said with a smirk.

  I swallowed nervously. Yeah, that’s the next logical step, I thought, but I have to keep up the bluff. “Sure, torture could work—if you’re after easily verifiable information. But what I know isn’t so straightforward. I’ll invent so many lies that the truth will be buried, and you’ll never be sure what’s real.”

  We locked eyes, and while I was clearly sweating, I refused to look away. They say there’s no difference between pretending to be confident and actually being confident. Well, I’m definitely putting that saying to the test, I told myself. I didn’t handle pain well. Hell, the first thing I’d say at the dentist was, “Inject me with some lidocaine, just to be safe.” Though, come to think of it, I’d been on this earth for over a year now and had endured some pretty gruesome injuries. Maybe I was tougher than I gave myself credit for.

  “Fine,” she said finally, the word slipping through her teeth. “I guess we negotiate.”

  Oh, thank God. I’d been trying to hype myself up, but the sweat on my forehead told a different story. My heart was still pounding, and I could feel the adrenaline slowly ebbing away, leaving me shaky but relieved.

  “You look relieved,” she commented, her tone dry.

  I forced a nervous smile. “Well, obviously. Wouldn’t you be?”

  She didn’t respond but instead glanced around, even pacing a bit. Her movements were deliberate, calculated, as if she were weighing her options. “So, I assume you want your freedom. But how can I guarantee you’ll tell me the truth before I let you go?”

  I shrugged, trying to keep my voice steady. “Well, how can I guarantee you’ll actually let me go once I’ve told you?”

  She stopped pacing and glared at me, her eyes sharp and calculating. For a moment, I thought she might change her mind and go back to the whole torture idea. But then she sighed, her shoulders relaxing slightly. “Then we’re at an impasse.”

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  I took a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves. “So, what now?” I asked, hoping to steer the conversation toward something less life-threatening.

  She crossed her arms, her gaze never leaving mine. “You tell me. Otherwise we go back to torture,” she said.

  “Now,” I said slowly, “we find a way to trust each other. Or at least pretend to.”

  She turned to face the guards, and for the moment, I was out of her immediate focus. She began asking for status updates on the infiltration and whether it had been contained. While she was distracted, I was wracking my brain, trying to decide if attempting to make a portal was worth the risk. On one hand, I was feeling better and I thought I might be able to pull it off if I had just a few seconds to concentrate. But that was a big if. On the other hand, she was still on high alert, and knowing her, she probably had eyes on the back of her head. No, I thought, the smart move is to wait. Play it safe.

  The more time that passed, the better I might feel, and the more likely she was to slip up. I didn’t need much, maybe ten seconds, and I’d be out of here. The guards started filing out of the room, probably following new orders she had issued, taking the bodies with them.

  “If I see even an wisp of a portal” she said suddenly, her voice cutting through my thoughts, “You will have to hop on one foot to reach it.”

  I looked at her, my eyes widening. “You could just tie up my legs or something.” I said, trying to keep my tone light despite the knot tightening in my stomach.

  She ignored my comment and leaned back, her gaze sharp and calculating. “Why don’t we start with the other gods you’ve met? Tell me about them.”

  Well, we have to start somewhere, I thought, and I’m definitely in the worse position here. “Alright,” I said, taking a deep breath. “One of them had a little side project.” I began recounting the story of the golem factory and how it all ended. I stuck to the truth—there was no point in lying about something that didn’t give her any real advantage. She listened patiently, not interrupting, her expression unreadable.

  “So she betrayed you to Elune?” she finally asked when I finished.

  I ran a hand through my hair, feeling the weight of the memory. “Yeah, kinda. Why? Did you know Elune?”

  It was her turn to laugh, though there was no humor in it. “As you said, I was a new god. There was a hierarchy to be respected. She was way up there, so I didn’t have the pleasure.”

  I hesitated for a moment, then decided to push my luck. “How did you manage to escape?” I asked, though I doubted she’d answer.

  As expected, she fell silent, her expression darkening as if she were debating whether to respond. Finally, she spoke, her voice low and measured. “It was because I was a new god. I still remembered the concept of time. It takes a long… well, time to adjust to a life outside of it. The old gods didn’t see it coming.”

  I nodded slowly, processing her words. “I think I experienced something like that once,” I said, and I told her about the moment I lost my powers immediately after the golem incident.

  “So that’s why you can’t wear the artifacts,” she said, her tone thoughtful. “It may also explain why you’re so powerful.”

  I nodded again. “I figured as much. It was touch and go for a while, but I guess it changed me somehow.”

  She leaned back, her gaze distant for a moment. “You know, it’s rare to survive exposure to the energy of the higher planes. I had to go through that before I could ascend.”

  “You risked death for a slim chance at godhood?” I asked, my tone laced with disbelief. The idea seemed reckless, almost foolish, but then again, maybe I couldn’t fully grasp the allure of divinity.

  She seemed lost in thought, her gaze distant, as if she were sifting through memories she’d rather forget. “He told me I was special, and I believed him,” she said quietly. “I mean, he was a god.” Her voice carried a hint of reverence, but also a trace of bitterness. I wondered how much of her belief had been genuine and how much had been carefully crafted by his influence. Gods, after all, were known for their manipulations.

  “Then why betray him?” I pressed, leaning forward. If she had once been so devoted, what had changed? What could drive someone to turn against a being they once saw as infallible? That and I needed her distracted.

  Her eyes flickered with something—regret, perhaps, or guilt. “I tried to save him,” she said, her voice softening. “I warned him that something was coming, that the losing faction wouldn’t just surrender. But he didn’t truly believe me.” She paused, her fingers tightening into a fist. “He didn’t make it down here intact. Maybe he clung to too much power—I don’t really know. But he wasn’t the same… man.”

  I gestured toward the bed, where the remnants of his madness still lingered. “He brought some poor girl here and killed her because she looked like you.”

  Her expression hardened, a flicker of anger crossing her features. “He was deeply unstable,” she said, her voice sharp now. “I tried to temper him, to guide him, but he accused me of wanting to betray him. Eventually, he tried to kill me.” She said it matter-of-factly, but I could hear the undercurrent of pain in her words. Betrayal, especially from someone you once revered, leaves scars that don’t easily fade. Ironic I know.

  “So, you’re going to bring freedom to this kingdom?” I asked, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

  “Freedom?” she replied coolly, her tone unwavering. “They’ll have enough freedoms.”

  Of course, as a demi-god, a sense of superiority was to be expected. I couldn’t help but smirk. “Anyone new will look good by comparison, at least. Should make your job easy,” I remarked, unable to resist the jab. She didn’t rise to it, though. Her composure was unnerving.

  “Enough about me,” she said, shifting the focus with a wave of her hand. “Tell me about the god who brought you here.”

  I hesitated, weighing how much to reveal. I recounted my story, keeping it vague where it mattered, careful not to give away too much. When I finished, she leaned back, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “So it was she who masterminded our downfall?”

  “Yes,” I replied simply, leaving no room for doubt.

  She shook her head, a bitter smile playing on her lips. “It makes sense that another god was behind this,” she said. “But to wipe out your entire kind…” Her voice trailed off.

  I offered a small consolation, though I wasn’t sure why I bothered. “They’re not dead. More like in a coma.”

  She sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly. “Then she was clearly lying, probably to make herself feel better.”

  That was always a possibility, not that I’d lose any sleep over it.

  “And her plan had something to do with you, since she brought you here,” she said, her voice sharp, her eyes narrowing as if she were piecing together a puzzle. I could see the gears turning in her head, the suspicion growing. She was connecting dots I’d rather leave unconnected.

  “A small part,” I admitted, choosing my words carefully. “More like she needed something from me.” I didn’t elaborate. The less she knew, the better.

  Her hand twitched, and suddenly she was reaching for her sword again. My heart skipped a beat. “So, in a way, you have a small part of the blame for the genocide of my kind,” she said, her voice cold, her grip tightening on the hilt.

  I held up my hands, trying to keep my voice steady. “Easy there. First, from what I gathered, more than just you two escaped the destruction and descended, so there was no genocide,” I said, hoping to calm her or at least appease her. “And second, it’s not like I had a choice. I’m still a mortal in the end, and she was a God.” I emphasized the last part, hoping she’d understand the power imbalance. Mortals don’t exactly say no to gods and walk away unscathed.

  She looked at me with a gaze I really didn’t like—piercing, calculating, and dangerous. “Dangerous and a killer,” she said, her hand tightening further on the hilt of her sword. I mentally kicked myself. Well, me and my big mouth. She really took offense to my part in all this. I needed to defuse this situation, and fast.

  Then, movement behind her caught my attention. I blinked, wondering if I was losing more blood than I thought because, for a moment, I swore Sedeus was standing there, right behind her. My shocked expression must have been obvious because she smirked, her grip on the sword loosening slightly.

  “Really?” she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “You think I’m going to fall for the oldest trick in the book?” She didn’t even bother to look behind her, confident in her assessment. But I wasn’t trying to trick her at least, not in the way she thought.

  I was about to say something when the window drapes moved slightly, and the shadow over the room shifted. That seemed to put her into motion. She turned, finally, to face him. Her reaction was almost comical; she was as stunned as I had been. But I had an extra second or two to recover, and I immediately began casting the portal spell.

  She recovered quickly, though, and attacked Sedeus with a swift, precise strike. But her sword passed through him like he was made of smoke. He reappeared to her left, and she struck again, but with the same result. Illusions. They were just illusions. I almost smiled, but I didn’t have the luxury of distraction. The portal was almost ready.

  “Hurry up with that portal,” a voice whispered close to me, almost making me lose my focus. “The illusion isn’t going to fool her for long.” I nodded slightly, my hands still moving as I finalized the spell. Once the destination was set, increasing the radius was the easy part. I pulled my hands apart, and the portal flared to life in front of me.

  “Go first,” I said. At least she didn’t argue. In the next second, I felt the all-too-familiar weakness wash over me, the cost of the spell sapping my strength. I stumbled, but before I could collapse, adrenaline kicked in, sharpening my senses and keeping me upright. I couldn’t afford to falter now.

  With the illusions gone, Bendis turned her attention back to me. I could probably make it to the portal, but so would she, and I couldn’t risk her following me. Instead of moving, I cast a chaos bolt. It was slow-moving, but she had seen the spell kill Sedeus and was forced to jump sideways to avoid it. It gave me the precious seconds I needed.

  I leapt through the portal, fully aware that even more pain awaited me on the other side. But at least I would be alive.