Decretum

What happens if the goddess of death chooses you as the wielder of her powers?

In a futile attempt to stop his teeth from chattering, Greyson placed both his hands inside his sopping wet jacket. For miles and miles all he could see was white. The same agitating, perturbing, unnerving white. He tried to run back to the Decretum, but the cold had made his muscles stiffen and his throat bleed with every breath. So instead, he paced himself through the storm and listened to the whistling wind as it repeated his sins to him.

He contemplated not going back at all, too; running away to a faraway land, and changing his name. But it would’ve been useless, the goddess of death would find him wherever he went, just like she did the night of the summer solstice. A conjurer, she called him, right before killing his family. Their deaths were meant to serve as fuel for his training at the Decretum. The one place where the wielders of a god’s power could train.

Another gust of frigid air chilled Greyson to his bones. All he had on was a jacket and jeans to prevent him from getting frostbite. He had burned his clothes a few miles after he fled the murder scene. It was the price to pay if he wanted to ensure his liberty. Liberty, what a ludicrous concept! How could he consider himself free when the goddess of death forced him to kill on her behalf. Now, it no longer mattered where he went his mind was an encapsulating, suffocating jail that he can never run from, and his life was an endless stream of chaos and suffering that he could no longer escape from. He didn’t just impart death; he was death.

Reviews

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All ex's dead af lolll if i got those powers.