Dominion

Chapter 56

Consciousness pulled me back, slow and heavy. My body was aching and overly warm. My dreams had been so vivid.

The air was cool, touched with something sweet. A soft breeze stirred around me as I opened my eyes.

Above me, the mirror tree was back. Its branches curved like flowing silver, arching high overhead, the delicate leaves shimmering with a light that wasn’t quite from this world.

The leaves swayed gently, their mirrored surfaces catching and scattering the glow, turning the ceiling into a kaleidoscope of shifting brilliance.

It was like lying beneath a sky filled with stars.

A quiet rustle drew my attention. The world swam around me. Edith’s face wavered in and out of focus.

“Edith—”

She was alive. Alive. But something about her was…different.

“Edith?” My voice came out thin, uncertain. I reached out to touch her, fingers extending toward her sleek dark red hair.

Red.

“Oh, thank Kuan Yin—you’re awake.” Relief cracked through her weary expression as she grasped my hand.

Flame? Are you okay? My panic rushed forward.

Rubi! Flame’s voice burst into my mind. We’re all fine. We thought we’d lost you.

I’m all right. I’ll come to you soon.

“Quinn,” I whimpered, my lips cracked. Edith handed me a flask of water, her eyes tragic as she shook her head.

“I’m so sorry, Rubi,” she whispered. A fresh wave of grief spilled over me.

The wolf loved you dearly, Flame said.

“He stayed with you until the end, Edith,” I said, voice breaking.

We just held each other for a breath, tears streaming down both of our faces.

“We thought there was no way to save you,” Edith said, pulling back to look at me.

“How did you?”

“I removed all the spells on you.” Edith spoke quietly. “And on myself.”

I stared at her. Not an Azure, then.

A Red Phoenix. And despite her recent ordeal, she somehow appeared younger and stronger than the Edith I’d known.

The memories—

“The poison of the Starved isn’t a physical one,” she said, her voice rough.

“It’s magical. So, the only way to get rid of it is to take all of the magic away, at least temporarily.

Fortunately, that is something I can do, even from someone as magically powerful as you, although that task did take me to my limits. ”

I struggled to sit up. “What do you mean? What’s happened? I thought I saw…”

“Activate your magic.” Edith turned over my palms.

My breath caught as I obeyed and looked down. My Mark had changed. My crescent-shaped yin Mark was so bright it was blinding.

“I’m afraid I’ve lied to you, my dearest heart,” she whispered, her hand coming up to tuck my hair back.

“About a great many things. But one thing I’ve always told you is true: Never forget that I love you because of who you are, not for what you can do.

I love you no matter what. I think you always believed that meant I cared for you despite your lack of power, but the opposite is true.

I was trying to say that I would have loved you just as much even if you hadn’t been so extremely magical.

You are not only a Zenith, but one of the most powerful Zeniths ever born. ”

What?

She reached for something beside her. It was a hand mirror, its silver frame delicate, etched with swirling patterns. Without a word, she lifted it and held it up to me.

I stared.

My face looked the same but different.

Framing my features was a cascade of long, beautiful red hair, the strands impossibly vibrant, streaked through with gold like molten fire woven into silk.

It caught the soft light, shifting between deep crimson and liquid flame as I moved, as if embers smoldered within every strand.

I reached up, fingers trembling slightly, and pulled a lock forward.

The colors shimmered, shifting under my touch. Not just red. Not just gold.

Fire.

Edith watched me carefully. “When we used a body double for you, your hair was the hardest to replicate.”

I tore my gaze from the mirror to look at her. “I can’t believe this.”

She smiled sadly as she said, “No one else has hair like yours. The people called you the Celestial Flame.”

You look like me, Flame said in my mind with great satisfaction. We were meant to be.

I was not dreaming. This was real. Edith was serious.

My throat felt tight, but I finally found my voice. “Why did I have a body double?”

Her expression darkened. “Because you were not only the crown princess of the Dominion of the Red Phoenix,” she said slowly and deliberately, “but you were also the child of prophecy.”

Her mouth parted and she sang, the same song that haunted me ever since I could remember:

“Born of passion and the silencing queen,

A light shall rise where none have been.

Through her, the dawn will banish night,

If the dragon’s heart grants her might.

Should the hollow one consume her power,

Darkness will reign in the final hour.

Let the serpent’s heir stand by her side

And storms shall rage and kingdoms die.”

I swallowed hard, my mind racing, trying to stitch it all together. “So, we’re not Azures. We’re Reds.”

Edith nodded once.

The truth settled over me. This was why we worshipped Kuan Yin, the goddess of compassion, when the Azures prayed to Nuwa, the goddess of creation, and Silvers bowed to Guan Yu, the god of war.

This was the reason I saw the Diviner in crimson, because red was the color of my dominion.

This was why Edith and I always served each other food first.

I took a slow breath.

My voice was tight as I asked, “Then why did we pretend to be Azures for so long?”

She bit her lip. “Because you have been in danger from the day you were born. And when the Annihilation occurred, I realized that even I could not keep you safe until you came into your full powers with your second zodiac year.”

I shook my head, pulling away from her and back against the headboard. “Start from the beginning.”

“All right,” she said, her voice measured, deliberate.

“The Red Queen gave birth to her crown princess. The baby was so powerful that even the Lunar Forest, long dormant, awoke. This sacred grove, known for its silvery bark and moonlit leaves, had been lifeless for generations. Soon afterward, the Azure Queen gave birth to a boy. On the princess’s twelfth birthday, her first zodiac year, a jade bracelet manifested on her wrist. The boy grew greatly in power, far exceeding his peers.

Both royal families believed this prince of the Dominion of the Azure Dragon was the dragon of prophecy, the dragon’s heart. They introduced the two children.”

My chest tightened. Draven.

I could almost feel him, the warmth of his skin beside me, the light of his smile when it shone on me.

“This prince and the crown princess grew up as friends.” Her gaze softened. “And they fell deeply in love.”

My fingers curled into the silk beneath me, desperate to block out the memories.

“They were betrothed. And the world rejoiced.”

“The Wedding of Flame and Sky,” I whispered.

Edith nodded. “It was heralded as the beginning of peace, a union meant to heal centuries of division between the dominions. But instead,” Edith said, her voice turning somber, “the opposite occurred. The hollow one, the Starved, came seeking the woman of prophecy during the wedding ceremony.”

The mirror tree’s shimmering light cast shadows across her face, making her words feel like a story ripped from legend.

“Many were killed,” she went on. “Including the body double of the crown princess.”

Something inside me went cold. The body double. The girl who had died in my place. The girl who had pretended to be me, while I…what? Disappeared? Was hidden away?

I sat up too fast, my head spinning.

“Are you telling me,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper, “that the Annihilation happened because of me? That the Starved came because it wanted me?”

Edith nodded. “We believe it is acting on behalf of the Serpent Lord. That if it consumes you, its lord will become strong enough to manifest in the other realms once the Anchors fall.”

All those people had died because of me, while I had survived. I hadn’t even been standing up there with Draven during my own wedding.

Her voice was steady, but I could hear the regret in it. “I decided it was too dangerous to return you to our own dominion, so I hid you in plain sight as a powerless Azure with amnesia in the Dominion of the Silver Tyger.”

My hands curled into the fabric beneath me. “But the Starved is dead. So I’m safe now, right?”

She shook her head sadly. “There is more than one Starved. The Serpent Lord will never give up.”

“Why did you take my memories?” My voice broke.

Edith exhaled slowly, as if she had been dreading this moment. “If I hadn’t, nothing would have stopped you from going back to Draven.”

I couldn’t get enough air. Draven. The name was a door half opened in my mind, shadows pooling just beyond the threshold. Something warm and inviting pulling me where I refused to go.

“The Azure royal family have a secret power. They can shift in ways that others cannot even imagine.” Edith’s eyes were firm.

“You cannot shift at all. The Azure King and Queen were both killed along with the crown princess, Draven’s sister, but I believe Draven escaped and hid. He is now king of his dominion.”

“Why do you think that?”

She pressed her lips together. “Because of you. Before you were knocked unconscious during the Annihilation, you were absolutely certain he had survived the attack. You could feel it through your Pair bond.”

I swallowed hard.

“I decided to wait,” she continued, “until you came into your full powers with your second zodiac year.”

My pulse pounded in my ears. “I agreed to this?”

Her expression tightened. “No. But, Rubi—”

I stood, shucking off the covers. I swayed slightly for a moment. “You took my memories, my power, my very identity—against my will.”

“It was the only way to protect you,” she said, her tone growing more desperate.

I shook my head, hands trembling. “How?”

“I put the spells on you before you awoke,” Edith said, voice raw now, her hands twisting together in her lap. “To change your appearance. To take your memories.” She closed her eyes briefly, then whispered, “I am so sorry.”

I couldn’t keep the anger from my voice. “Were you going to hide who I was from me forever?”

“Only until your second zodiac year. But by then, you had already Bonded Flame. You were being targeted by demons again.” She shook her head, her expression grim. “You were in the Culling and being watched. I couldn’t take the risk of telling you then.”

I let out a sharp breath, the pieces clicking into place. “The attack in Steel Haven.”

She nodded. “That was no coincidence.”

“No. This—this doesn’t make sense. My magic didn’t change when I turned twenty-four, when my second zodiac year came.”

She sighed. “Yes, it did. I am one of the most powerful nulls ever born, and it took everything I had to contain it.”

A memory surfaced: Edith, pale, drawn, weaker than I had ever seen her.

I whispered, “You were so tired…all this time because of me?”

“Your fate is too strong. It is a storm. It was only a matter of time before he found you. The Starved. The Serpent Lord. And his heir, the one of prophecy.”

A cold weight settled in my chest. “Who is that?”

“No one knows. We’ve been trying to find him for years now, to keep him away from you.”

Memories continued to press against the darkened corners of my mind, demanding to be let in. Fragments of something long buried flickered at the edges of my consciousness. A boy with crimson hair teasing me, irritated with Draven, as we all played in the gardens.

“This is why Auron seemed so familiar.” I could hardly believe the words I was saying. “He’s my brother.”

“Yes.” Her voice was gentle and filled with love.

“What happened to my mother, the Red Queen? The rest of my family?”

“My love,” she breathed, a sob caught in her throat, “I am your mother.”

The words landed like a lightning strike, searing through me, too impossible to comprehend.

I wanted to reach for her. I wanted to push her away. My hands trembled between the two instincts, torn, unmoored, until I felt hers close around mine, warm and steady.

My life had been built on the absence of this. On the aching, empty space where a mother should have been. And now Edith stood before me, not just someone I loved but mine.

She was my mother—she always had been. But I was also furious with her, for everything she’d done.

“I’m not…I can’t—I need time.”

My breath came in ragged gasps, too many emotions colliding at once: grief for what I had lost, fury for the years stolen from me, and something fragile. Hope.

“I’m here, Rubi,” she whispered. “When you’re ready, I’ll be here.”

I nodded, stepping away from her and crossing my arms. It was meant to be something defensive, but it was more like keeping myself together, holding in all the pieces threatening to spill across the floor.

“There’s someone waiting to see you,” she said, stepping back, resigned. She gave me a sorrowful look. “You need to talk to him.”