Chapter 31
Chapter Thirty-One
C louds of dust billowed behind Stormfire and me as we thundered up the final mountainous rise before reaching home. The wind captured my hair, making it whip behind me in a mottled mess of wild golden-brown curls as we ascended.
After trekking through the overgrown brush, we trailed up the curving path that led to my front door. The smell of orange blossoms permeated the air, even before my feet touched the ground.
It was the smell of home.
Vines and thick foliage completely swallowed the log pillar walls, embellishing my home in an enchanting cocoon. Wildflowers bloomed most of the year, depending on the season. Beautiful white buds of jasmine brought with it the sweet-smelling perfume, accompanied by roses of all different shades and ivy that refused to let even one pillar see sunlight. My bedroom took up the entire upstairs, my perfect oasis of solitude set amidst forest and flowers.
Set behind our house was a guest house with enough rooms to house my uncle, aunty, cousins and Sebastian when they came to visit. Green moss and wildflowers half covered the outside walls, allowing some of the wooden pillars to peek through.
Mere feet from the barn, I pulled Stormfire to a halt, dismounting before she’d had a chance to come to a complete stop. Without a word, I led Stormfire to the barn; Sebastian shadowed a step behind me, leading Orion and Mom’s horse, Cherry.
“Are you okay?” Sebastian’s words were uncharacteristically soft.
I wasn’t sure I was. The whole trip home, I hadn’t spoken a word. I was fuming at my uncle for banishing me. It was kind of my fault—okay, definitely my fault—but the knowledge that he’d only done it so he could imprison me at my home soured my stomach. And that was nothing compared to the betrayal I felt at the thought that my mother had lied to me for the last eighteen years.
The thought left me feeling physically ill. If she could lie to me for that long, nothing was stopping her from denying the truth if I confronted her. I needed solid proof. And I knew exactly where to find it.
Turning, I faced Sebastian. “I need to do something.”
Sebastian’s smile was instant. “Then let’s go do it.”
I loved how readily Sebastian jumped to my aid, even though he had no clue what I would ask of him. “You’re not even going to ask what it is?”
“If you need to do it, then I’ve always got your back.”
A smile flickered across my lips, quiet and uninvited. There was something devastatingly endearing about how easily Sebastian would toss the rulebook out the window for me–like it wasn’t even a question. It made me feel like I was worth fighting for. Like maybe, I’d always been. It was a maddening combination of infuriating and perfect. So uniquely him. That kind of loyalty… that kind of love wasn’t just raw–it was unbreakable.
“My mom isn’t going to like it.”
“When has that ever worried either of us?”
His words quickened my heart, a smile playing on my lips. “I’m going to need you to distract Mom so I can sneak into her room.”
“Oh, I like these sorts of plans.” He grinned at me, throwing the saddle over the stall.
With the horses brushed and fed, I turned to the barn entrance, rolling my eyes. “Of course you do.”
Sebastian was in his element as we conspired. Within minutes, he had an elaborate plan to draw my mother away from the house. Honestly, I didn’t care what he did, just as long as it gave me enough time to search her room.
I leaned against the side of the barn, watching patiently as Sebastian disappeared into my house. Several minutes later, he emerged with my mother, heading towards the guest house.
My father had made his own little town; building a blacksmithery, healer’s quarters, a mess hall and a bakery just to name a few. Each building was small, but they did the job and honestly, I believed they were far more stunning enveloped in nature than the buildings in town.
When Sebastian and my mother had disappeared from view, I sprinted to the house, shutting the door quietly behind me. Not wasting a second, I snuck into my mom’s room.
Light streamed in from her window, colors splaying through the room from the stained-glass window; a beautiful depiction of the Goddess Elessandria.
Golden hues accentuated her euphoria; she was breathtaking, bathed in radiant light that illuminated the immaculate space. But I didn’t have time to waste staring at windows, I was on a mission to find something.
So when I looked toward the bed my father had died in, I ignored that too. I would sit with my grief later when I had time.
When I was a little girl, I came across a cloak of my mother’s. It was pure white, except for three brooches, marks that she had told me symbolized her rank. I thought they were all to do with her priestess and healer status, but now I wasn’t so sure.
I faltered as my eyes swept over her bed again; one of my father’s shirts sat folded on top of perfectly made emerald-green bedsheets as though my mother slept with it every night. And I wouldn’t be surprised if she did.
My heart stuttered as I forced myself to move, ignoring the hurt that squeezed my heart. I didn’t have time to be sentimental.
I approached her wardrobe; another depiction of the Gods was fastidiously carved in the wood, bringing the images to life; Elessandria stood in a long flowing dress, next to the Tree of Life, her hand grazing along the trunk as she stared at it with a fondness that was ethereal.
I stopped for a moment and looked closely at the Goddess’s hand grazing the tree. An odd sensation swept through me as I remembered my own hand running over the roots of what probably was the same tree. Chills raced up my spine.
With great care, I meticulously searched my mother’s wardrobe, being careful to return everything back to its original position. If I didn’t find anything to prove my suspicion, I didn’t want her to know I’d been going through her stuff.
After finding nothing in her wardrobe, I moved to the dresser, rifling through each drawer. But again–nothing. No sign, no secret, no proof that she was anything more than what she claimed to be.
The chest at the end of the bed was my last chance. My final hope–and the sharpest edge of my fear. The thing I was most afraid to open.
I reached for it with hands that shook. If I found nothing, I’d have to believe her. And if I did find something… then she was liar.
Dark oak wood had been used to carve the chest, and the shiny surface was coated in clear lacquer. I faltered as I studied the faces of Elessandria and Massaeus, the man she had fallen in love with. Her eyes captured her adoration, the way she felt for him was undeniable, it would have broken her soul when she accidentally killed him.
I ignored my growing anxiety, convincing myself that I needed this closure, it far outweighed the guilt of rummaging through my mother’s private things.
Taking a deep breath, I opened the lid, gently releasing it as it rested on the hinges. On the top was an almost desiccated book. It looked like a soft breeze could disintegrate the pages. I wouldn’t be surprised if it originated from the dawn of time. I set it aside, being careful not to damage it.
Underneath the antediluvian book was a folded-up white piece of material. Gently, I unraveled it. My breath hitched. Three breathtaking brooches stared back at me, each of the brightly colored gems sparkling in the sunlight. Reverently, I picked up the first one.
The first insignia had a black base, edged with gold detailing. A labradorite gem sat at its center, catching the light in fractured, shimmering hues. Four teardrop marks framed the top, bottom, left, and right—each holding a unique symbol, delicate and precise. Runes circled the outer edge of the signet. My mother had taught me a little of the old language—the one the priestesses used before the Warlord Crixus claimed the kingdom. I knew enough to read what was carved here.
This brooch marked her as a high-level priestess.
I expected as much.
The second insignia was pale gold. A green gem glowed from its center, encased in a thin golden ring. From there, delicate leaves unfurled outward, etched in radiant lines—an unmistakable emblem of the earth and Callisto. At its edge, runes again—broken up by four simple marks spaced evenly around the circumference.
The mark of a healer.
Again, expected.
A breath stilled in my chest as I reached, reverently, for the final insignia. The moment my fingers brushed the metal, it warmed beneath my touch.
At its heart, a magnificent purple gem pulsed with light. It wasn’t just reflecting the sun—it stole it, casting violet rays across the room. Runes ringed the outer edge, interrupted at four points—north, south, east, and west—by identical amethyst stones. Intricate patterns swirled in the spaces between. Symbols I couldn’t name, yet couldn’t stop staring at.
This signet radiated something the others didn’t. It hummed beneath my skin. I could only decipher one word. But I didn’t need more. I could feel it.
Magik.
It was the mark of a magik wielder.
My mother was a mage. And she had kept it from me.
She was a Gods-damn liar!
My blood boiled, tears stinging my eyes. Even though I had suspected it, the confirmation brought a level of hurt I hadn’t expected.
My mother was the reason why I was connected to this power. I was a motherfucking mage, and she’d never told me. Was she scared of the power I would possess? Afraid that I would actually be the death of us all?
Rage consumed me, flaring from me as lightning bolts danced between my fingertips. Gods, the anger was so easy. Like it was akin to the rage that had always burned in my soul.
I had always gotten along with my parents, as easy as breathing. They got me in a way no one else did, so this treachery cut straight through my heart, branding it so deeply with hurt that I struggled to breathe. A lightning strike struck outside, close to the house.
I had never fit in.
Never.
Was this why?
And what else had she kept from me?
A wave of worthlessness cut off my oxygen. Did she not trust me with this?
Did she not deem me worthy to keep her secret?
Storming from her room, I threw open the front door, not bothering to shut it behind me. With each step I took, the vehemence in my blood surged until my wrath became an unshackled force, unrelenting and unstoppable.
My breath came in ragged huffs, as I ripped the front door to the guest house open. A pair of emerald eyes shot to mine, questions turning into concern as she studied my features.
“What’s wrong?” She questioned, worry creasing her forehead.
Her gaze trailed down to my hand, and I knew she saw sparks at my fingertips. Her eyes widened in shock. My uncle mustn’t have relayed everything that had happened in Ophelia.
“You lied to me.” My voice stayed unnaturally calm as I spat the words at her. “Did you think that Ophelia was just experiencing some freak weather patterns, Mom?”
Taking a graceful step forward, she opened her arms, approaching me cautiously, like I was a wild beast. “What are you talking about?”
In her defense, she kept calm, even as her unstable, loathing daughter visibly raged in front of her, threatening to burn the world to ashes just by existing.
I held up the brooch, my hand shaking. “You’re a magik wielder. Aren’t you?”
A brief moment of realization transpired across her beautiful features before she spoke. “Yes.”
At least she hadn’t denied the truth; I think that would’ve hurt more.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I seethed.
She breathed in deeply as if this was the start to a long explanation. “I wanted to keep you safe.”
I was so sick of hearing those words.
“You keeping me safe turned me into a killer.” Those words seared my soul, leaving a trail of devastation I’d been trying to ignore.
Questions sparked in her emerald eyes. “What do you mean?”
“If I had known I was a magik wielder then maybe I could’ve learnt how to control the magik. Maybe I wouldn’t have lost control when we were attacked! Y—You could have taught me. You could have helped me.” I shouted at her, salty liquid burning my eyes.
Wordlessly, my mother shook her head, and I could see the tears threatening to fall. “Thrainn did not tell me the entire story it seems.” Her words were almost silent. “Emylia, I am devastated for the pain you are going through. If I could keep you from it, I would. But you’re not a mage.”
Air punched from my lungs as her words slowly sunk in, quickly followed by confusion. I staggered back a step, breath ragged, hands trembling at my sides.
"Then why did I lose control?" The words tore from me, louder than I meant—sharp, laced with something that tasted too much like fear. "Why does it feel like something ancient is stirring in my blood..." My palm pressed to my chest, as if I could quiet it—still it. "...like the bones beneath my skin belong to someone else?"
A chill rolled through me. Not cold, but old. Familiar in a way that felt wrong. "I can feel it." My voice dropped to a whisper. "An ancestral power." I looked up, found her eyes, desperate for grounding. "Not just mine. Inherited. Buried." I swallowed hard. “ And awake." A breath stuttered from me. "And it’s claiming me. Taking control."
She flinched, a breath catching in her throat. Like my words had scared her. Like she’d seen something in me that shouldn’t be there– something waking. “I… I’m not entirely sure.” She stumbled over the words, like my voice had struck somewhere deep. Like she wasn’t afraid for me–she was afraid of me.
“Bullshit,” I raged. “I am your daughter. It makes the most sense. Why wouldn’t I be a mage?”
Something hiccupped in her gaze. “It’s the truth. A mage’s magik comes out as a child, very young. You would have presented much earlier and much differently.” A whispered breath left her.
“Then why can I wield magik?” I was desperate for an explanation now.
When I thought my mother had passed on her genes to me, I was angry she lied to me, but it all finally made sense. Now, I was back to the unknown, and I couldn’t bear not having an explanation. Because what if it was just me, what if I was just a screw up?
What if there was something fundamentally wrong with me?
She exchanged a look with Sebastian, who had stood wide-eyed through the entire conversation. “Have you ever been inside the Aelinthian Forrest?”
“Yes, the night of the Goddess Festival.” It was the night of the air jellies and the sweet nothings with Maalikai. It’s where I’d started to fall for him.
Sebastian and my mom exchanged looks again, making my apprehension rise. “Maalikai took me to a gigantic tree that looked like it could be the Tree of Life?” I admitted.
A slow breath left her, and her eyebrows knit together in thought.
“What?” I demanded, anger at her forgotten.
“I’ve heard whispers of secrets about that tree, but it is not the Tree of Life.” Another captured breath escaped her. “That specific tree is said to hold an ancient power, one that can be absorbed and harnessed. It is one of the eight trees that are interconnected to the Tree of Life. When the Tree of Life was split by lightning, eight Gods were created. The tree in Aelinthian Forrest, this region, was the birthplace of Elessandria.”
I looked between Sebastian and my mother, not sure whether I believed her or not. “Maalikai touched it too, he wasn’t affected,” I shot back without even thinking.
She shrugged in her own confusion, but I sensed there was more she was keeping secret, like she still didn’t trust me. “I knew the tree was the birthplace for Elessandria, but I didn’t consider how much truth the rumor held about harnessing magik. Many people before you have tried and failed to harness the magik. But maybe it only reacts to a person’s individual bloodline. Maybe it didn’t affect Maalikai.”
“So what? It gave me magikal powers? What in Nexus kind of bloodline of ours would do that?” I shouted incredulously.
Her face shifted. That same hidden look–guarded, distant. Like she was pulling a veil over something sacred… or dangerous. But again, I wasn’t certain if she was trying to protect me–or protect herself from me.
Or maybe it was simply because she hated talking about her past–because of the horrors she’d witnessed during the fall of Agertheria. The same atrocities Sebastian had survived. The ones that had claimed his parents… before Thrainn swooped in and pulled him from the wreckage.
“From everything I have read, you essentially have powers. But only for a short time. If you touch the tree, you will hold the powers until they’re expelled.”
Okay, so I only turned into an unhinged weapon of destruction when I touched the magikal Tree of Life. That was manageable.
“How long will the powers last? How are they expelled?”
My mother shook her head. “I would need to research it. I’m sure there are tomes in the capital, places we could go to find the answer. But I do not have the knowledge here. I do not have an answer for you.” She looked disappointed in herself.
“That still doesn’t explain why you never told me you’re a mage,” I murmured.
My mother ran a hand through her dark hair, tossing it over her shoulder. “I did it to protect you.”
A laugh bubbled from me. “That’s bullshit and you know it.”
“Emylia Isabelle!” Her self-righteous tone didn’t have the same effect when she was the one who had lied to me , but she was still my mother, and I was still silenced by her. “You watch your tone with me, young lady. I understand you are mad. But you are not entitled to every facet of my life. When you get ahold of that anger, we can continue this conversation.”
“It really was for your protection,” Sebastian chimed in.
My eyes shot to Sebastian’s as he answered for my mother. I looked between them, then it all fell perfectly in place.
Oh. My. Gods.
“Did Sebastian know?” Their silence answered my question. “Fucking unbelievable.”
“Em, wait. Thrainn knew, and I overheard it years ago. They swore me to secrecy,” he shouted the last part but I ignored him, storming from the room as betrayal seized me.
He sprinted after me outside. “Em.”
I spun on Sebastian, taking two steps forward and invading his personal space. “Mom lying to me I kind of get. But you? You were meant to be my best friend.”
“We are best friends,” he said softly. He sounded wounded and weary.
And I didn’t blame him. I was so tired.
Tired of the lies.
Tired of the pain.
Tired of surviving a life that had never once felt like mine. Like I couldn’t exist as me–I needed to be something else to be accepted.
But most of all?
I was tired of the anger.
The way it lived inside me. Clung like a second skin. It never let me go. It was a part of me—a twisted, scarred part that stained everything I touched.
Sebastian had been the one thing untouched by that darkness. The one person I thought would never lie to me.
But he had.
And something inside me broke—quietly, completely. The pain of it didn’t feel human. It felt ancient. Elemental. Like the kind of grief that should split the earth open and drag me under with it.
“You broke my trust, Sebastian.” I said his full name like it might hurt him the way he’d hurt me.
“I’m sorry.”
Two words. Small. Fragile. But there was a hollow ache in his eyes that told me he meant it.
But it didn’t stop the bleeding.
I knew him. Gods help me, I knew him. To the bone.
He wouldn’t have kept this from me unless someone had made him swear it. Sebastian would never dishonor another’s trust—not even for me. And that was the worst part. He was honorable. It was a virtue I adored about him.
A virtue I now loathed.
I swallowed the lump in my throat.
“Say I do believe you,” I whispered. “What now?” Emotion cracked through the words, ripping them apart midair, twisting them into something broken.
“Let me explain,” he said, his voice rough, like it hurt to speak.
His jaw clenched, but when he reached for me, his touch was gentle—too gentle. He tilted my face up with one hand, waiting until our eyes locked.
“I never meant to hurt you.”
I didn’t respond.
I couldn’t even look at him.
Couldn’t breathe around the ache pressing against my ribs.
Instead, I dropped my gaze, my fingers brushing over the bare skin of my wrist—where my bracelet used to be. The color blurred. My vision swam. A tear slipped free.
Before I could wipe it away, he was there.
His hand found my cheek, and with a touch that nearly undid me, he brushed it away. So delicate it shattered something in me.
“There are some things you can’t know,” he whispered. “Things you’re not ready to hear.”
My heart stopped. My gaze snapped to his, wide with disbelief— because no . His words didn’t just cut—they pierced through the ice wall around my soul and went straight for the meaty, pumping organ in the center.
I stumbled back like he’d struck me.
Horror clenched my stomach, blanching me from his touch.
“Yet you can know?” I said, my voice sharp, unraveling. “What makes you worthy, and not me?”
“You are worthy.” The way he said it—Gods, it almost made me believe him.
Almost.
But if I was so worthy—why the secrets?
“Just not with this?” I fired back, the words bitter in my mouth.
“Em—”
“No.” My voice cracked. “You almost had me believing I meant something to you.” My voice trembled with fury. “That I was something to you. But this—” I shook my head. “This just proves you’re a liar.”
He flinched, hurt darkening his eyes. But I didn’t let him speak. I wasn’t done. The hurt was too obliterating.
“What about Dad?” I demanded, heat rising like fire under my skin. “Did he know?”
“Em—” Sebastian’s face changed. His skin paled. His mouth opened, but no sound came.
He didn’t say it. He didn’t have to.
Oh my Gods.
That was a yes.
The pain slammed into me, violent and alive. It stole the breath from my lungs. Crushed my chest. Twisted my heart until it forgot how to beat.
I couldn’t breathe.
My whole life had been a lie.
Sebastian took a step forward, reaching for me like he could still salvage us. I recoiled, batting his hand away like it burned. The thought of him touching me made bile crawl up my throat.
“Don’t you dare touch me.” Hatred seethed from me as my father’s betrayal stung more than anything else.
Sebastian’s body went rigid, pulling away from me like he’d been been branded. “Please…” The hurt and confusion in his eyes only added to my own.
I shouldn’t be the one who had to tell him how much my father’s involvement hurt me; he knew me better than anyone else. He knew how much both of their betrayals would destroy me. “What did you think would happen?” I snapped.
“Look, I’ll fix it.” He opened his arms in vulnerability, and I believed he wanted to fix things.
“Will you tell me everything?” I shot back with so much venom I felt him recoil.
One second passed, and then another. “No.”
“Then you can’t fix this!” My voice climbed a couple of octaves, the sound shrill, even to my ears.
“We were only trying to protect you. And we would do it all again if we had to.”
My laugh came out like a demented cackle. “ Fuck. You.”
As soon as those words left my mouth, I regretted them, but I’d come too far, and I was far too angry to back down.
“Em…” The look in his eyes said it all, I’d hurt him, really hurt him.
I should’ve apologized, I should’ve told him I hadn’t meant any of it, because I hadn’t.
Sebastian was everything to me, losing him would hurt more than losing anyone else in this world. He was my everything. But the words of an apology were ash in my mouth, my wrath incinerating them before they had a chance to blossom.
Instead, I turned on my heel, storming away.
* * *