Chapter 37
Sage
I f I were to ask the people of this realm one place that they would like to see with their own eyes, I would have been given one common answer—the Crest of Salvation, the emperor’s legendary arena.
No mortal had ever been allowed inside before.
The grounds were considered sacred, a place where only immortal ichor could be shed.
And yet, here I was, a mortal, seeing it now.
I stood on the private balcony, my hands settled on the stone railing as I took in the incredible arena.
The Crest of Salvation was positioned between the peaks of two mountains, the sides carved to look like an eagle’s wings piercing the sky.
In them, were thousands of rows of seats, filled with gods and goddesses—all dressed in the finest of robes.
The empress sat behind me, in her throne forged of opal stone. Beside it was another, the seat empty .
“You should sit down, child. Your eagerness makes you look like you do not belong here,” she said softly, the words delivered like a suggestion, but underneath the allure of them, I heard the command.
I turned to face her, opening my mouth to reply that I didn’t belong here, but then an immortal stepped through the open doorway.
Streaks of gray ran through his brown hair, tucked back by a laurel crown.
The leaves and branches were forged from a polished silver metal.
That same silver color wrapped around his body, making him glow.
And even though there was no breeze today, the hem of his chiton flowed.
When he saw me, his eyes flared wide, his lips parting in surprise. Swiftly, he swept the look away.
Thinking little of it, I dropped to one knee and bowed my head, for I was in the presence of greatness—the emperor, the creator of all.
“Why is a mortal here?” Emperor Alaric inquired, but his voice was not cold.
“Because I wish for her to be,” the empress answered, not a hint of warmth to be found.
Sandals appeared in my line of sight, along with a flowing hem. I could feel the immense power radiating before me, like standing in front of an open fire. “Rise, Sagentia, daughter of Luna,” said the emperor.
I did as I was told. “How do you know my name?”
“I remember every soul’s name,” he answered, a flicker of an unknown emotion flashing across his face. Gone faster than it appeared.
My eyebrows raised at that, for I could not imagine how vast his knowledge must be.
I felt a sharp prick against my forehead, like the tip of a dagger was being pressed against it.
My gaze shifted to the empress, finding her fierce, glowing eyes glaring at me.
Her fingernails dug into the arms of her throne.
Teeth clenched like a bear trap, she grated, “The games are about to start.”
“I suppose we best sit down then,” the emperor said, giving me a wink.
I didn’t know if it was because I was standing in the presence of greatness or if it was something else, but I felt my heart warm at the gesture.
“A grand idea,” the empress replied sarcastically as we sat down—the emperor in his throne, and me on the other side of the empress.
A short while later, the games began. The first one was to test speed.
The immortals moved so fast that they looked like blurs, racing around the tracks until a horn blared.
When the victor raised her hands, the crowd’s roar was so loud it shook the heavens.
Our attention shifted to the left of the racetrack, where the archers prepared for the next game.
“Would you like to make a wager, my love?” the emperor asked, his hand reaching across the space between their thrones.
“No,” she said as she pulled her hand from the arm of the throne and placed it in her lap, something I caught just out of the corner of my eye.
Her actions confused me.
I, a mere mortal, had barely spoken to the emperor and she had hurtled daggers in my direction.
I was no stranger to the stories surrounding the empress’s jealous nature.
Most of which were filled with terrible accounts of what she had done to anyone who dared to look at the emperor too long.
However, he had just tried to be tender with her, and she had pulled back. That begged the question—why?
Five bullseye targets sat beside one another, each one at the end of a lane.
The first archer stepped up, nocking their bow with not one, but five arrows.
Releasing the string, the arrows shot forward like bolts of lightning bursting from the clouds.
They whistled, slicing through the sound barrier.
Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.
All five hit the bullseye mark.
Again, the spectators cheered. I found myself doing the same.
Clapping, I spared a quick glance at the emperor and the empress, seeing if they shared the same excitement as the rest of us. The empress looked bored, but the emperor’s eyes were on . . . me. Upon our gazes connecting, he quickly looked back to the arena.
I did too—not wanting to risk the empress’s wrath.
After the archers finished, there was a series of other games that tested strength, agility, and endurance.
When they were over, our attention turned to the middle of the arena, to an oval space covered in sand.
Four giants stood on the one side of the arena.
On the opposite end was a square hole in the ground.
The sound of stone sliding against stone became audible.
It grew louder and louder until a carving of an eagle head emerged from the hole.
It was huge, larger than four Clydesdale horses stacked in pairs.
I had never seen such a grand display before, and I did a quick mental check to ensure my jaw wasn’t slung open.
Silence spread from tongue to tongue, and the spectators grew quiet. All eyes were locked on the larger-than-life carving. The beak opened and shadows began to pour out from it, cloaking the ground in a blanket of black. so thick not even the powerful sun could penetrate it.
Horns blared and drums rumbled, swelling and building—the message loud and clear—
Something big was going to happen. No, not something—
Someone.
A dark god. Cut from the fabric of night itself and painstakingly stitched together.
The crowd erupted—their cheering so loud that the ground beneath my feet shook with the power of an earthquake. The energy was so potent, the hairs on the backs of my arms stood.
There was something about the way the immortal moved, confident and purposeful, a lethal predator on the prowl.
A black cape swayed behind him, breaking off into bits of umbra.
His helmet covered his face, his armor crafted from the blackest of blacks.
On his one shoulder, a skull, dipped in silver, and on the other, vicious spikes.
Every inch of him screamed one message—built to kill.
I was no different from anyone else—we all had heard the stories of the emperor’s champion. Second to the emperor, there was no name spoken with more reverence than that of—
“Nockrythiam,” I said under my breath.
“Is he to your liking?” the empress inquired, her eyes studying mine, searching for answers deeper than the question she had just asked. A truth I could feel deeply.
“It is hard to say when I cannot see his face,” I answered. “Besides, would it matter if I was unattracted to him? It is not like I have a say in any of this.”
“No, I suppose you don’t. However, I can promise that when you do get to see his face, you will be pleasantly surprised, for my husband has never worked on perfecting a vessel as long as he did for his.
He spent weeks collecting this item and that, even longer when it came to forging him on his mighty anvil.
” She paused for a moment. “Do you know what they call him?”
“Yes, I’ve heard the title they attach to his name. The Ender of Realms. To be honest, it makes no sense to me.”
“It makes no sense to anyone.” She glanced at the emperor. “Isn’t that right, dear husband?” There was nothing endearing about the way she said the word, twisting it grotesquely on her tongue.
“You are correct,” the emperor said, eyes fixed ahead.
I followed his gaze, looking at Nockrythiam. How could he be the Ender of Realms when there was only one realm? I spared a quick glance at the emperor, wondering if he knew.
Another horn blew, and the battle began.
I watched in awe as Nockrythiam moved. Despite being pitted against four other men, he made it all look so simple to cut them down. No sooner than the fight started, it was over, and Nockrythiam stood victorious .
After Nockrythiam left the battlegrounds, the fallen warriors were cleared and another fight began.
“Wine, Your Majesties?” asked a female voice from behind me.
I turned toward her. She was beautiful, just as all the immortals were. She held a wine jug in one hand, a circular tray with four goblets balanced on the other.
“Why not,” the empress said, plucking two goblets from the tray. She handed one to the emperor. “Here, love.” The endearing word sounded dead on her tongue. How the emperor didn’t notice was a curiosity to me.
“Thank you,” he said, taking it.
The empress grabbed a third and handed it to me. “You might as well have one too. The games are far from over.”
I nodded and took the goblet. The sweet, smooth liquid bloomed on my tongue, and I realized I was tasting the nectar of the gods. It was divine, and before I knew it, I had downed one glass and accepted another.
Boots struck the floor behind us, and I turned to see who it was.
There was no mistaking that sleek, black armor or the mighty, dark god behind it—Nockrythiam.
“Your Majesties,” he said, but he did not bow. He didn’t need to.
He removed his helmet, and dark, endlessly black eyes met mine.
His hair was cut short on the sides but left longer on the top.
The tousled raven strands were tossed carelessly back, one piece falling over his forehead.
His face was angelic, although his sinfully shaped mouth suggested he was nothing of the sort.
He was the epitome of devastation. The kind of immortal who sunk his fangs into you, spread his venom into your system, and then left you for dead.
I knew because that’s exactly what he had done to me.
“You!” I exclaimed, jumping up from my seat, charging at him.
Before I knew what I was doing, I tossed my wine at him. Red splashed across his tanned skin. It dribbled down his face, dripping off his strong, sharp nose and steel-cutting jawline, down onto his armor.
I stood there, my lungs heaving, my world feeling as if it were caving in on itself. I could feel the emperor and the empress’s eyes very much on us while Nockrythiam’s remained locked on me.
“I deserve that,” Nockrythiam rumbled in his deep timbre. His tongue brushed over his bottom lip. He pulled it in, sucking off the wine. “Despite the wine to the face, it is good to see you again, Little Mortal.”
My mouth fell open, and I grabbed the fourth goblet from the tray, tossing that in his face for good measure.
“Don’t you dare call me that, you bastard!
” I snarled as I stormed through the doorway and out into the hallway, my fists clenched.
My teeth felt as if they might combust under the iron clench of my jaw.
Unbelievable. This was unbelievable.
Had the empress known? Was that why she’d set this up? For him?
I hissed at the thought.
“Sage, wait,” Nockrythiam called out from behind me. He grabbed hold of my arm and spun me to face him. “Please.”
“You told me your name was Von!” I hissed.
“Technically, it is. Nockrythiam is the name the emperor gave to me upon my creation. Von is the name I have chosen for myself.”
“You told me you would come back for me.”
His voice was like granite. “I had planned to.”
I scoffed. “But you didn’t.” I tore my arm from his grasp. “Do you have any idea how long I waited for you? How broken I was when I realized that you were not coming?” My voice shook, my words chopped apart from my emotions, as violent as the ocean tide in a storm.
“I’m sorry, for all of it,” he said, his hand reaching for my face.
“No.” I shoved his arm away and pulled back. “You lost the privilege to touch me.”
And then I turned and walked away from the male I had been a fool to entrust with my heart. Tears brimming, I wiped at them as I turned the corner, walking right into the empress.
“Explain everything,” she snarled at me. “Now.”