20. The Divine Archive
The Divine Archive
ROHEN
The twitch of my fingers’ eagerness for my blade did not cease as we followed the woman who had appeared in the clearing.
While Kael spoke on her behalf, disclosing the conversation he had with the woman he believed he was seconds away from wedding, unease stirred.
She carried a weight of unfamiliarity, but there was something that lurked beneath the surface of her essence—something that made me question if we had met before.
And I loathed it.
Weaving between the massive trees we’d run between when she demanded our departure, my suspicions only continued to grow.
With nightfall encroaching, our continued venture became increasingly convoluted, directions blending.
When we voiced our disquiet about the manner, she claimed she was guiding us toward the first artifact, buried beneath the earth in an underground archive, but I still questioned her credibility.
“For someone who ordered us out of these very woods, I find it ironic you are dragging us back into them.”
Syoran tried to cover his chuckle with a cough but failed miserably.
“Your apprehension is warranted,” Lorelie chimed with that godsdamned confidence that hinted at her idiotic assumption I wouldn’t butcher her where she stood. “But I am not your enemy.”
“Your silence is deafening,” I snarled at Ellira. When she refused to answer me yet again, I directed my ire at the woman who had bragged about her closeness with my mother. “Oh, my apologies, I forgot about your supposed blessing.”
The flame of my wrath ignited tenfold, threatening to devour me and set me on a course towards the destruction I craved.
Tendrils of annihilation brushed the back of my mind, further heightened by the continual loop my thoughts played around Caspian.
My mind had not ceased its worry, nor had I been able to pull my focus from the broody pirate who purchased me and demanded I appease his crew.
If anything, the longer he remained away, the worse my anxiety became, a deep ache settling in my chest as I ruminated on the worst-case scenario.
I was supposed to loathe him. I did loathe him…
Didn’t I?
“You do not,” Ellira hummed, her sudden contribution causing me to flinch.
“Oh, so now you elect to be responsive.”
“When you doubt your bond with your Mizani, yes.”
“But not when I’m enraged with this bitch who supposedly knows you like—”
“She is nothing of the sort.” The hiss that rolled down our connection sent goosebumps racing across my arms. “If you wish to be angry, certainly do not emanate it around those who have sworn their lives to me to ensure you remain safe. I will not tolerate such selfishness.”
Struggling to find my reply, I found the task even more impossible as we stepped into another clearing.
The subtle glow drew me in, a stone staircase illuminated by something unseen.
Like a beacon awaiting us, the towering statues of chess pieces on either side of the descending entrance glistened with mystery.
Their shapes, somehow untouched by the weather, acted as both a symbol and a potential warning. Both of which I immediately questioned.
“Welcome to the Divine Archive,” Lorelie whispered, her attention transfixed on it as if mesmerized.
“If you knew of it,” I challenged, palm closing around the hilt of my blade, “why are you in awe?”
A growl rolled from Kael at my continual prodding. “Rohen.”
“Because I have only heard of it.” Turning to look at me, Lorelie’s honeydew irises glinted in a way I had seen before. “I have not had the privilege of setting foot in Jaskor’s forgotten sanctuary.”
Not allowing me another second of interrogation, she moved from where she stood. When she approached the steps, there was no pause as she ventured down them, vanishing from our line of sight before any of us could argue otherwise.
With a glance, Syoran dipped his chin and followed. Sighing, I moved to fall in step with him, but a harsh tug ripped me backward.
“What the fuck—?”
“I understand your concerns, but the only thing you will do with your pestering and misdirected agitation is earn us enemies.” Seafoam gaze pulsing with lessening patience, Kael’s brows furrowed. “And in a realm pressurized by war, that is the last thing we need.”
Running my tongue along my bottom lip, I exhaled before offering a reply I knew I would regret. “Apologies for my behavior.”
His eyes slitted with the need to contest my obedience, but instead of doing so, he pivoted and followed the others. With his blonde hair serving as my guiding torch, I grumbled a few curses under my breath before I closed up the rear.
Silence enveloped us, our booted footfalls echoing off the masonry as we slipped from above ground to whatever awaited us below.
Expecting nothing but darkness on the descent, I was surprised when the sudden glint of night’s fall became visible overhead—a colossal circular window of fractured stained glass offering a view of the field of stars overhead.
Within its shattered design, celestial figures sat etched, surrounded by constellations I assumed were long forgotten.
Awe briefly consumed me before annoyance resurfaced, and with a scoff, I stomped down the rest of the stairs. But as soon as I stepped into the clearing, the archive sprawling before me, my poor mood vanished once more.
What remained of a once-grand hall was a collapsed maze of broken galleries, flooded chambers, and crumbling vaults.
Massive roots split ancient stonework apart, while moss and pale subterranean fungi clung to every surface.
Bronze censers hung crooked from the fissured ceilings, their holes blackened by the incense that once plumed through them.
Running my finger along one of the few standing tables, I carved a path through the thick layer of dust that blanketed what did not belong to nature.
I stepped over a pile of rubble, books half-buried beneath, their pages fused by moisture and age.
Most of the shelves had long since rotted away, leaving behind mountains of scattered parchment and tomes.
“Holy shit,” Syoran breathed as he examined the vast space. “This is…”
“Otherworldly,” Kael finished for him. “I’ve been in many grand archives, but nothing compares to this.”
“The God of Luck and War harbors an equal fascination with knowledge, for one cannot be strategic if they do not know how to wield their mind.” Lorelie motioned to the stone tablets and disintegrating scrolls.
“Many of his devotees spent time down here, dedicating their existence to writing his story. When the Others discovered such valuable materials, they did their best to destroy everything his followers had dedicated their time to. Clearly, they didn’t succeed, but what they ultimately failed to do was scour for the artifact tied to the god. ”
“He left it behind in the place most assumed would be too obvious,” I mumbled, more so to myself than in contribution to the conversation. “And that’s exactly what happened.”
Lorelie nodded. “Yes. Seems the god himself has luck on his side, because had the Others learned of this piece of mystical connection, they would’ve destroyed the strongest way to link himself to his Child.”
Head swiveling, Syoran spoke, “Are you aware of what the artifact is? Or are we just as in the dark as the Others were when they learned of this place?”
“Seven coins,” Lorelie answered without pause, “with a ship etched in their center.”
“Let’s hope they aren’t all individually scattered.
” Running his fingers through his hair, Kael peered back at the stairs we’d descended.
“We are already running on borrowed time, and there certainly isn’t much more we can waste.
Not when we have the Others summoning creatures from their realm, alongside polluting the entire continent of Wraelira. ”
A half-hearted smile tugged at the corners of Lorelie’s mouth. “Well, lucky for us, they all rest in these archives. As for where… I do not have a precise location.”
“Seems my mother didn’t provide you with everything,” I muttered, taking a step back. “Probably best we separate to start our search then, considering we have a lot of ground to cover.”
Not waiting for their commentary or rebuttal, I pivoted on my heel and started toward the furthest corner of the archive.
Stepping over spilled shelves, I did my best to avoid defiling the scattered parchments.
Worn journals—leather casings dotted with wet spots and cracked from the heat—were tossed just as haphazardly, the sight of them shifting my thoughts back toward Caspian.
Ever since our engagement in the palace, he had become a plague on my ability to focus.
The glint I’d caught in his crimson irises continued to haunt my dreams, and his shouts of affliction wove through my already fitful sleep, plunging me into nightmares that left me sweat-laden and breathless.
With each daunting night came concern, distress that challenged the hatred I believed I harbored for him.
It was as if my stacking animosity toward him had been curated while I was steered by something I couldn’t decipher.
But when I’d locked eyes with Sorva, I knew, without a doubt in mind, that she had twisted the strings of fate.
Which left me with one question—had every threat and lashing of Caspian’s tongue been guided by her influence?
A sharp spike of anguish shot up my spine with enough of a bite to make me lose my footing.
I tripped, my palm slapping against ancient stone as I struggled to fight the growing affliction.
Pressing my other hand to the center of my forehead, I groaned and closed my eyes, only to be greeted by what felt like a memory… or perhaps a flash of the future.
Lips crested mine on a shared breath, sunlight dancing over our tangling bodies. Tracing the sharp lines of his chest and the scars that littered it, I released a soft hum as I tucked myself closer to him.
“If you keep doing that, we will stay in bed all day,” Caspian said, the depth of his voice extending to where I rested my head.
I smiled softly. “Is that all that awful?”
“Every second with you is a blessing, little siren.” He trailed his fingers up my bare back, planting a gentle kiss on the crown of my head. “For you, my queen, are the reason why I continue breathing.”
Peering back up at him, I admired the cut of his jaw and the facial hair that blanketed it.
He met my gaze, and where I expected crimson, a deep blue threatened to swallow me just as the seas I commanded had.
But that was not why my breath caught in my throat; it was the tapered point of his ears, their tips sitting far higher and cut far sharper than usual.
“Rohen?”
“Rohen!”
Gasping, I blinked twice as the imagery faded and the archive spanned before me again. My chest rose and fell frantically as I struggled to draw in another inhale, seafoam irises locked on mine as terror rippled across them.
“Hey! Hey…” Kael cupped my heated cheeks. “Where the hell did you go?”
“I-I…” The pain returned, robbing me of my ability to speak. Crying out, I grabbed Kael’s arm and squeezed to try to ground myself.
“Lorelie!” he screamed, panic making his voice waver.
“C-Can’t… I…” I heaved, doubling over as he struggled to keep me upright. Coughs racked my frame, the tang of my blood coating the back of my throat before its crimson hue splattered against the floor. “K-Kael…”
Knees buckling, his shout was the last thing I heard as I collided against something solid, wishing for nothing more than to be nestled against Caspian’s chest once more.