2​ Wept

ANTIPA LIVIANA TODRALAN made the climb, her bare feet growing numb and sore on the wet stone. It was not quite dawn, with the barest hint of grey to the east.

On a flat-topped hill overlooking Icarthya, stood the shattered Tower of Wept. It had earned its name due to a series of mostly unrelated deaths. Twenty-six, if she remembered right, although the last five had been by her hand. Icarthians were a superstitious lot and the tower lay abandoned to legend and decay.

It had once been the highest lookout point over the Adalcis coastline, rising hundreds of feet above the palace towers. It still was, if unofficially. As she reached the tumble of moss-covered stone, she felt brittle grass pricking her feet. Nothing else grew there, exposed to the elements as it was.

At the base of the ruin, she turned to face back the way she’d come. Below her, the capital was a sporadic pattern of distant torch and firelight. The palace held the brightest concentration.

This was how it was meant to be. A soul such as hers, on high, staring down upon the sprawl and ignorant mass of humanity. She felt the satisfaction of knowing she was something more. It was one reason she made the climb every month. She felt powerful, removed from the rest, now that her magic had flourished this past year.

Her twin sister used to accompany her on the climbs, but the fool had failed to appreciate the nuances of the experience. Sharp edges of stone slicing her bare feet, grazing her shins and knees, lacerating her hands. The aches in her muscles and the pounding of her heart. It all symbolised the torturous distance between Antipa and mere mortals. No, her twin had never understood. She’d even had the temerity to oppose her in the murder of their father. It had been a necessary act, since the man had become aware of their plans. More importantly, he’d learned of their true nature and had been about to inform the imperator, their grandfather.

Wept had three remaining walls, the fourth strewn across the hillside. She entered through that gap. Yes, that squabble with her twin had proved interesting. It was the day she’d put manners on her. One of them had to be superior, in charge, and Antipa had proven herself the stronger and more vicious.

Inside the tower were several floors connected by stone steps and corridors. Most of it lay exposed to the elements, but enough remained to provide some shelter.

She climbed several sets of crumbling steps to reach the battlement, or what remained of it. She approached the parapet, and halted before two shattered merlons. Her hands gripped the edge as she looked out over an imperial port clogged with ships. Out across the ocean, and far beyond. She waited for the broiling clouds in the darkness to gather. With her power, she reached up to them and felt their cold touch.

A few drops splattered her forehead. A downpour ensued. With effort, she forced a parting in the clouds until the full moon managed to poke through. The difficulty of working with weather was its unpredictability. Stories suggested the Angelborn of old, and the first Nephilim, had controlled it with ease. Her memories said otherwise; the weather had reacted to their moods, a chaotic causation and nothing more. Any control had been an illusion, but then people always believed what they wanted to.

Although not Angelborn herself, Antipa had learned a few tricks. She had to hold the gap in the clouds open, while they roiled on all sides, fighting to close back in. It was like parting fog with bare hands and for such a miniscule result, it took all her will and focus. Odd, that such a pathetic use of her magic should take so much out of her. She could burn the city to ash with less effort. Destruction, however, had always been easier.

Within the moonlit rain she discerned her sister’s face; distorted, it was like peering into a blackened bronze mirror. The features, which distinguished them from one another, despite being twins, were missing.

‘It is time,’ Antipa announced, in as dramatic a voice as she could manage. She often needed to bully her twin into action. The woman possessed a terrible stubbornness at times.

‘What’s this?’ Rade demanded. ‘No “Hello, sister, how are you doing?”’ The voice was distant and reminiscent of the wind, which ruffled Antipa’s cloak and hair.

Antipa growled.

‘Oh, well,’ said her twin with a smirk, ‘I suppose that will have to do though it does need work. Despite your insistence on behaving like one, you are not a beast Antipa.’

‘You speak as though the distance between us was of any consequence. We both know I can reach you if I desire.’ The drain on her strength might prove too great, but she saw no need to let Rade know.

‘What do you want?’

Antipa fought down the screech birthing in her throat. ‘You ask as if you haven’t a clue. I have no time for your games, dear sister. I already told you what I want.’

‘I’m not ready.’

This time the screech escaped, a welcome venting of her frustration. It was ever thus between them. ‘Enough procrastination! Events here will move as planned, and you will do as we agreed.’

‘You mean as you decided.’

‘As. We. Agreed.’

‘Give me several more days.’

‘This is about him again, isn’t it? I’ve had enough of your simpering idiocy. To think we are sisters, and worse, twins.’

‘Thankfully, I never had your nose. You should have taken Beezer up on his offer to straighten it, although I think he was being sarcastic. For one of the undead, he does have a knack at correcting flaws. Then again, I suppose your little problem would test even his talents.’

Another screech, before Antipa forced herself to calm. Her infuriating twin was grinning like a common dullard. ‘No, I will not let you rile me. You were always good at getting me so enraged I would fail to see what you were up to. No, this time I am focused, as you will be.’

‘Look, Ral is being difficult, and I need time to secure his safety. Why should a few days make any difference? Once we begin, there will be no stopping us.’

‘You brain-dead wretch, that bastard boy is not your son. Did you give birth to him? I think I would remember if you had been pregnant. Besides, you would have birthed him at nine years of age, stretching even our talents. He was born to another woman, you fool, so forget him. I should never have allowed you to keep that cur. You should cut his throat and be done.’

Within the moonlit curtain, Rade shook her head. ‘He was her son, Antipa. I remember giving birth, holding him, watching him grow up. Sister, I remember his death and the agony that followed as my soul was torn apart.’

‘Our soul, sister. I have those memories too, don’t forget.’

‘Yes, our soul.’

‘She wanted to destroy those undead scum, and that is what we will do. I will tolerate no more distractions from you. You’ve had all the time I’m willing to give you.’

Rade stared back at her through the rain, defiance in her eyes.

Antipa reached across the leagues of ocean with her power, following the currents of air. The effort cost her as blood dripped from her eyes and nose, but she persisted, pushing herself to the point of death. She gripped Rade’s throat with ghostly fingers. She had always been the more powerful, the more cunning. She watched Rade’s eyes widen and bulge in shock, and then horror.

Oh, my dearest sister, you have no idea what I am capable of. I will destroy this world to achieve my goals. Do you think you will survive? Do you think your survival matters to me? We are but fragments of a greater soul, but the plan does not need us both.

Her grip on Rade’s throat tightened, while her real hands gripping the crumbling stone before her, bled. She struggled to maintain the connection holding back the clouds. Pain erupted throughout her body. Her hair smouldered as the power raging through her reached a dangerous crescendo. She’d always forced herself, testing her limits, while reaching new heights. There was more there.

She knew it.

There had to be.

She would not let Rade see her limits, however. Let her believe Antipa had none. Remain unpredictable, unknowable, and ever dangerous.

‘You will execute the plan, immediately,’ Antipa spat through gritted teeth. ‘Save the bastard boy if it is possible, I don’t care either way. Just don’t let him interfere. It will begin here too, before this day is ended. If you fail me, you will know my wrath.’

Antipa stared into the driving rain seeing nothing but darkness. The moon had vanished with the last of her strength, as had her sister.

She licked the blood from her lips and smiled. It dripped steadily onto the stone in a pat patter, the rain washing it away as quick. It was almost time to rid the world of those treacherous virals, to fulfil a centuries old desire.

Her smile faded as she then remembered the long climb back down to the dregs of mortal existence, and her grandfather.