13. Two of Five
Two of Five
KAEL
While Parran demanded I remain under their care after I woke up, tension suffocated our first two days at sea.
Even bedridden for that time, it wasn’t difficult to tell that something had happened between Alastair and Rohen, but when I asked what, neither of them bothered to share.
Now, no longer confined to the infirmary, and with another forty-eight hours left until we reached Hollowmere, the temptation to jump overboard grew.
There was nothing more I desired than to free myself from the weight of our world.
With Percy gone, my willingness to continue pushing where purpose no longer remained had dwindled.
Sure, I had joined hands with strangers who were quickly becoming friends, but none of them would ever replace him.
That was something we all felt and acknowledged—without his radiance, only an unsettling stillness lingered.
But, for me, it settled far deeper. With him no longer warming my deteriorating soul, I had nothing.
The lure to become the man I never wished to be sank deeper with each breath.
I was one more gut-wrenching experience away from writing off everything I knew and allowing my searing hatred to craft me into the man my father always craved I’d become.
Hell, part of me feared I was already there.
Where I should have experienced a twinge of anguish as we drifted from Serevalen, an ounce of remorse for the people I aspired to protect, there was nothing.
Instead, all that greeted me was a grueling sense of satisfaction in knowing that I would no longer be the only one suffering, the only one who had lost something dear.
That in the decrepit state of our realm, I wasn’t the only walking corpse.
A warm hand settled on my shoulder, drawing my attention from the tongues of the ocean lapping against the hull.
Cornflower eyes met mine as I turned, no iris or pupil in sight.
White freckles gleaming beneath the sun, Parran’s frosty brows drew together in concern, the gentle breeze catching their matching hair.
Lilac lips pressed in a straight line, they dipped their head to the side. “I called for you from the main deck a handful of times, and you did not answer. Your mind is drifting, is it not?”
With a sigh, I combed through my disheveled locks. “As much as I appreciate your concern, Parran, I—”
“It was a simple yes or no question,” they interrupted, leaning against the gunwale.
“I do not entertain the bullshit excuses you humans make. You may sit here and claim that you wish to be forgotten, not cared for, brushed off, but I am not stupid, nor will I allow you to insult me with such assumptions.”
Their bluntness was still something I was getting used to, and I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from saying anything I knew I’d regret. Gaze averted, I mumbled, “I never meant it as an insult, and I apologize—”
Long periwinkle fingers swept beneath my chin, drawing my attention up their towering frame before we locked eyes once more. “I am not asking for an apology; I am asking for your honesty.”
“I…” Caught off guard by their nurturing stare and how otherworldly beauty rippled from them, I swallowed. “My mind is heavy, yes.”
The corners of their mouth curled upward. “You do not struggle to decipher the feelings of others, but those of your own, don’t you?”
Not wanting to test their patience any further, I nodded.
They moved their hand, settling it over my chest. “Grief is comparable to death in a way. The pain it brings is indescribable to those who have not felt it, and it is one thing I admire your kind for—being able to withstand its serrated teeth and unrelenting hunger.” Brushing their thumb across my collarbone, a bloom of relief followed.
“You ache not only because of what you have lost, but because of what you long for.”
Unable to trust my ability to speak, I blinked through the near-blinding sting as I dipped my chin. There was nothing else I could offer, not when everything they said grazed the fissures in my existence. They weren’t wrong; if anything, they were too right, and I didn’t know how to deal with it.
“This”—Parran spread their fingers, hand covering my entire chest—“there is nothing wrong with it. There is nothing wrong with you.”
“I wish I believed you,” I whispered, sorrow slipping from my lash line. “Gods, I wish I believed you.”
“You don’t have to.” They smiled as they slowly drew back, thumb trailing along my jaw before their touch vanished entirely. “I can remind you.”
There was something in their genuineness that awakened a part of me I’d buried.
It cracked open like a hairline fracture, yearning to be understood.
It was the aspect that had always felt out of place, no matter how desperately I tried to align with others' expectations.
A piece that survived on the very need to return to where it belonged—
My thoughts became audible. “You said I tapped into a power beyond this realm. That I do not belong here.”
Parran’s expression shifted to surprise. “Well, that was quite the change of topic.”
“I’m sorry, I just—”
“What did I say about apologizing?” When I didn’t respond, Parran hummed in satisfaction. “Yes. I did say that, for it is the truth. You, Prince, have ties to lands beyond these. Bonds with beings who do not walk the continent of Wraelira, but the one I belong to.”
“Wait, what?”
Their lilac tongue swept across their matching lips.
“I fear I cannot share more aside from this—the only reason I can use my abilities in a realm as polluted as this, without the repercussions you experienced, is because I have been blessed in a way humans cannot be. A certain god requested my protection, and as a being of mythical existence, I obliged. Their essence and mine have fused, as the Children of the Damned—Divari—mesh with their bloodline once they recognize their potential. But, in return, it means my voice is bound, just like the gods Sorva wishes to control.” They offered me a half-hearted smile. “That is all I can offer you.”
Bound?
“Like Caspian Vayne?” I prodded, my mind weaving together pieces of a story that felt just out of reach. “He is bound to her, yes?”
Parran nodded.
“And the gods are silenced similarly?”
Another nod.
“The Son of Elaros—the God of Death. But then there is Rohen…” Thoughts formed faster than I could understand as I continued speaking to myself. “Why would Sorva bind Caspian and not Rohen as well? Is one more powerful than the other?”
Parran shook their head.
“Two sides of the same coin?”
A nod again.
“The bind… Does it prevent Caspian from speaking truths? Like it does you?”
With the dip of their chin, Parran’s lips curled into a state of satisfaction.
Placing my hands on the railing, I inhaled.
“Sorva silenced the Damned to ensure she could reign without their intervention, using the Divari as leverage to keep them under control. Over time, Sorva became convinced that her reign had grown in strength, further complicating the gods’ ability to break free, but she’s been wrong…
” I lifted my head, meeting Parran’s stare once more.
“The only reason the gods haven’t escaped her hold is that they need a host to do so. Don’t they?”
Parran nodded.
“And, like you, their inability to communicate freely with their descendants is keeping them imprisoned…” Reeling over the possibility that I’d uncovered something, no matter how small, had me near breathless.
“The relationship between the God of Death and the Goddess of the Sea is irrefutably strong, according to the tomes I studied throughout my childhood. Are those pieces of lore truthful?”
Another movement of confirmation.
“So Rohen and Caspian are… They belong together, and if that link solidifies, then two of the five gods are freed.” Tapping the stretch of the sun-soaked gunwale with my thumb, a grin slowly painted my features.
“And Sorva isn’t strong enough to face two of them, which means Rohen and Caspian could serve as her eradication, hence the bind.
It keeps Caspian not only tied to the Other, but it silences his expression.
He has never loathed Rohen; he’s been controlled to ensure they do not join sides. ”
White brows lifting, Parran didn’t need to confirm any further. Not when everything was beginning to make sense.
“The other three descendants… Are they among us?”
They smirked, and I joined them.
“Holy shit…” I mumbled, my eyes widening. “Did I just… uncover the depth of the prophecy?”
“Some would say so-so,” Parran answered with a wince, their utterance harboring punishment.
A deep laceration sprawled across their chest in response, crimson quick to bloom. It stood out starkly against their complexion, and I moved forward instinctively.
“Fuck, Parran.”
“I’m okay.” There was no waver in their timbre to indicate their words were a lie. “It was worth it. You are onto something, future King of Serevalen.”
My mind was still reeling, but I couldn’t help but smile as everything settled. Parran had confirmed every assumption, and with them, I knew deciphering the intricacies of the prophecy that ruled our lands would be far easier.
I just needed one thing…
“Are you okay enough to Voidstep? I need to get my hands on Caspian’s journals. All of them.”