Chapter 43 Dimas #2
Lena sighed. “But it is. That’s where the tale ends, with Venysa dying a prisoner, and her predecessor becoming the Furybringer, but …
that isn’t the full story. Venysa’s spirit is connected to mine, somehow.
She’s the one who told me about the ritual that she and a Zvaerna acolyte had created to try to break her bond to Armas, after …
” She paused, her eyes flashing silver for the briefest of moments before returning to their usual gray.
“After what?” Maia asked.
“She tried to run,” Lena continued. “Broke out her brother and fled. But … Armas found them, and Venysa’s father, he … took her brother’s life as punishment for her disobedience, and then locked her away. I saw the memory myself.”
“Your affinity,” Yana breathed. “It’s for the past?”
Lena nodded. “Apparently.”
At this point, it didn’t come as a surprise to Dimas that Lenora had known, or at least suspected, what her affinity was all this time and had kept it a secret. Everything she’d said or done since the moment she’d met him had been laced with deceit.
Still, Dimas found himself wishing she were wrong.
“The memory could have been planted by the cult …,” said Dimas. “My uncle, he said he’d corrupted mine and my mother’s minds somehow. Maybe they’ve done the same to you—planted false memories to manipulate your feelings toward Venysa?”
Lena frowned. “I saw the memory before I even came to the palace. This entire time, she’s been trying to control me. The same way I think she corrupted the Furybringer, Lady Aalys.”
“… What do you mean?” asked Dimas, his brow furrowed.
“When the bond broke, the Fateweaver’s power became stronger, and so did my connection to Venysa.
She showed me her past,” said Lena. “Naebya came to her after she was imprisoned. Said that She never wanted the Fateweaver’s power to be under the empire’s control.
That She wanted the Fateweaver to be Her vessel on the mortal plane, and that She wanted Venysa’s power to be limitless. ”
“That’s heretical nonsense,” Ioseph said. “It was Naebya’s Sisters who wished to sever the bond. Naebya sealed them away to stop them.”
Casimir let out a small scoff, his mouth opening to utter what was likely a scathing remark, but a single glare from Lena had him closing it again.
“That’s the story the church tells,” the Fateweaver said, “because that’s what they believe. It’s what Naebya made them believe.”
“But … why?” Yana’s brow furrowed.
“From what I can gather, it was because She needed time to find a way to sever the bond Her Sisters had created. If Her true plans were revealed, the church would turn against Her, and without people to worship Her, She would grow weak. This way, She could stay in power whilst Venysa carried out Her work. They made a deal.” Lena sighed, suddenly looking weary.
“When Venysa was taken back to the palace after her brother’s murder, Naebya came to her and told her that if she could find a way to break the bond Her Sisters and the High Priest had created, then Naebya would grant her limitless power.
Power that Venysa could use against the emperor and her father to get revenge for all they’d taken from her.
“Venysa agreed, and asked an acolyte who had fallen in love with her to help. But by the time he’d created a ritual that would work, his and Venysa’s plans were discovered.
The acolyte was fatally wounded, but he managed to stay alive long enough to flee to the tunnels beneath the palace, where he sealed the ritual in a chamber. ”
The crease between Yana’s brow had only deepened. “I don’t understand what this has to do with the Furybringer.”
Lena let out an impatient sigh. “After Venysa’s plans were discovered, her father sealed her in the palace dungeons and took her mother as a hostage to keep her compliant.
She couldn’t retaliate without risking her mother’s life.
And so she and Naebya made a new bargain; Naebya would bind Venysa’s spirit to the Fateweaver’s essence, so that Venysa could return with every reincarnation of the Fateweaver and attempt to claim her revenge.
It was Venysa’s influence that turned Lady Aalys into the Furybringer,” Lena said.
“And now she wants to do the same to me.”
“No.” Dimas interrupted, his mind whirring. “Lady Aalys was driven to madness and became the Furybringer because she couldn’t control her powers. Venysa and Naebya had nothing to do with it.”
Ioseph’s fingers interlocked with Dimas’s. “Dimas is right. Besides, if what you’re saying is what really happened, then why hasn’t Venysa corrupted any Fateweaver to become a Furybringer since Lady Aalys?”
“Any child showing signs of being a bōda is immediately sent to live in one of your religion’s temples—a law that, coincidentally, was passed after the Furybringer was stopped,” Lena said, frowning.
“They’re all raised to believe the bond is divine.
Venysa needed someone who would want to break it.
” Lena’s brow deepened in thought. “I think it might also have something to do with the Rite of Ascension. I … was warned that I had to sever the bond before the rite could be completed. If the Order somehow knew that it was Venysa influencing Lady Aalys, maybe they created the rite as a way to block her?”
He couldn’t handle this. The bond being severed. Roston and Iska’s betrayal. And now the idea that his own goddess might have been behind the Furybringer’s creation? It was too much.
“I’ve heard enough.” Dimas unwove his hand from Ioseph’s and got to his feet, the world swaying as shadows bled into his vision.
Ioseph stood with him. “Dimas—”
“No. I can’t—I need some air.” Dimas’s footsteps were unsteady as he hurried out of the cave mouth.
He barely made it a few steps into the night before his legs gave way.
Before the lingering shadows became too much to bear—and before the tears he’d desperately been trying to contain started to fall.