Chapter Thirty-Three Zerra The Sun Queen The Evanescence
Zerra listened as every ruler in Ouranos recounted the horrors that had befallen their people. She heard the pain in their voices. The passion in their words. The ends they all went to trying to save their homes.
Still feeling self-conscious in nothing but her scant golden underwear, Zerra stood with her arms wrapped around her waist as she took her turn around the circle, describing the heat. The lack of rain. The thirst. The sluggish ennui that plagued Aphelion.
“What did you do?” Queen Amara of Heart asked. “How did you try to stop it and ease their suffering?”
The question was innocent enough, but it picked at a sore spot. Zerra recalled Cyrus’s face, the last one she’d seen before she’d found herself here, when he’d begged her to do something. The way she’d dismissed him with a wave of her hand, more concerned about fucking Eamon and clearing off the beach for her own private use.
“I… encouraged them to use the water,” she said, tucking a loose strand of golden hair behind her ear in a nervous gesture. Shame burned her cheeks as she stammered.
“And?” Astraia, the Star Queen, asked. “What else?”
“I gave them ice. Well… until we ran out.”
Zerra wasn’t sure if she imagined the judgment on their faces, but why were they questioning her when they hadn’t interrogated anyone else?
When Zerra had nothing else to add, they moved on to King Herric of The Aurora.
He’d been the last to arrive, and after they listened to him describe the withering of his jewel mines, their attention was pulled to a glowing flicker in the center of the circle.
A figure appeared, and Zerra attempted to make out its features, but it shifted. Transforming from a woman with silver hair and lined skin to a young man with a shaved head and a sprinkle of stubble on his cheeks. “Welcome,” the figure said with a hundred voices, all blending together like an untuned melody. Zerra blinked, trying to bring them into focus, but the effort made her dizzy, and she rubbed her eyes with the back of a hand.
“What is this?” King Terra demanded. “Who are you?”
The figure continued to change from being to being and then spoke in that same disorienting voice. “You are at the end of the First Age of Ouranos,” they said. “But when one door closes, another opens. The Second Age is about to begin.”
They all stared at one another across the circle.
“What does that mean?” Amara asked.
The figure turned to the Heart Queen, and as Zerra watched, she noticed it wasn’t an infinite number of people but the same handful of faces flipping over and over. She squinted, trying to count them. Twelve of them. Maybe. It was hard to be sure.
“We are the Empyrium,” they said. “You may consider us your gods. We are caretakers of this land and countless others since their first inception more years ago than you can comprehend. And while you were of little importance in the majestic cosmos of the universe, it seems your time for governance has arrived.”
“What are you talking about?” King Nerus of Alluvion demanded. “What do you mean we’re of little importance?”
The Empyrium turned to face him next.
“When your people first arrived, this was a fledgling land, devoid of magic, save for the first seedlings churning deep in the soil. Over time, it gave rise to the Fae.”
Magic, Zerra thought. She knew there was magic in Ouranos. Fae lived deep in the forests and mountains, where they made flowers bloom and birds sing. Magical creatures with wings, colorful skin, and glowing eyes. Weary travelers spoke of being rescued when they’d lost their way, and farmers recounted miraculous tales of their crops recovering from droughts. Some claimed they were nothing but stories and the ravings of lunatics, but Zerra had always believed they were real.
“But the magic continues to grow, and the Fae do not possess the strength to contain it any longer. The plagues and the illnesses besieging your homes are a result of this burgeoning power. It must now be harnessed, controlled, and channeled,” the Empyrium said. “And so we’ve brought you here.”
They waved their hand, and seven objects appeared, hovering around them in a circle. A golden mirror. A silver crown with a red stone. A black torch. A wooden staff. A shimmering rock. A pearlescent coral. And a white diadem inset with moonstones.
“These seven Artefacts are tied to the magic of your homelands. From this day on, each of you will be bound to them and, in turn, to the magic itself.”
The Empyrium waved their hand again, and the objects floated closer, each one choosing a benefactor, until the mirror hovered over Zerra’s head.
“With magic comes your ascension to High Fae, which includes gifts that elevate you above your mortal status. Long life. Increased physical strength. Sharper senses.”
Zerra watched the faces around the circle, wary but hopeful. This proposition sounded very promising, but there had to be a catch.
“What do they do?” Amara asked, her gaze studying the silver crown spinning slowly above her.
“With these objects, you will gain a unique ability known as Imperial magic.” The Empyrium went on to describe each ruler’s magic in turn. Zerra, as the queen of Aphelion, would be granted the power of light to use both as a weapon and in the manipulation of illusions. She was having difficulty containing her disbelief.
“When you come to the ends of your lives,” the Empyrium continued, “you will then live on forever in the fabric of your Artefacts and hold the enviable task of selecting the most worthy ruler to follow in your stead. Never again will someone gain the leadership of a people through birthright alone.”
Though the Empyrium hadn’t acknowledged her specifically, Zerra could have sworn they meant her with those pointed words. She’d inherited the title of queen by default, not because she’d deserved it.
“However, one of you will remain here.”
The wary hope circling around the room morphed into something sharper.
“One of you will be stationed to watch over Ouranos. You will act in our stead as the caretaker of the Artefacts, functioning as an additional layer to ensure the stability of the continent.”
“Stay here?” Amara asked. “For how long?”
“For as long as Ouranos exists.”
Amara’s lips pressed together, her dark eyes filled with mistrust.
The Empyrium tipped their head. “It is a lot to ask, we understand.”
“Can we visit our homes?” Terra asked.
“You cannot. You will remain here, in the Evanescence.”
Zerra watched Terra’s face pale as he took a small step back. She knew he was married to a husband he loved very much.
“Can we bring our loved ones here?” he asked.
“You can, but they will not be meant for this plane.”
“What does that mean?” Amara asked.
“It means that while their physical bodies may be with you, their spirits and their minds will slowly wither away until they are but empty shells of the person you knew.”
“But our people need us,” Astraia said.
“Our families need us,” King Nerus of Alluvion added.
The Empyrium nodded but said nothing as everyone looked at each other from across the circle. Zerra drew into herself, trying to make herself appear small. It wasn’t that she had anyone important on the surface waiting for her, but this sounded like a big job.
Silence stretched across the room until, finally, someone broke it.
“I’ll do it,” Herric said, his chin up. “I accept this task.”
The Empyrium swung around to face him, their hands clasped in front of them. They stared at the Aurora King wordlessly for several long seconds.
Zerra watched Herric watch them. The king’s eyes gleamed with promise and cunning. He’d always been wildly ambitious, and this was a task of the highest honor.
Not just a king.
Not just High Fae with magic.
But a god.
“No,” the Empyrium said. “You are needed at home.”
“But you just said—”
They lifted their hand and cut him off. “Our decision is made. It is not you.”
“This is preposterous! No one else wants to do it. I’m the best choice!” His voice rose, bouncing off the room’s hard corners, echoing with his frustration. He continued shouting as Zerra stared at the Empyrium. Though their body faced the Aurora King, Zerra noticed a face peering directly at her, as if emerging from the back of their head. A woman with kind eyes and soft blonde waves tumbling down either side of her face.
She smiled at Zerra and dipped her chin.
Zerra had the strangest sense this god was sending her a message, and the hairs on her arms stood at attention.
“Enough!” the Empyrium said, slicing off Herric’s tirade. The command vibrated through the room with such force it shook the very walls. “We seek another.”
Herric glowered at the Empyrium, his expression bruised with malice. He clamped his mouth shut, and at that moment two things occurred to Zerra.
One—this would not be the last of this from Herric.
Two—the Empyrium were expecting her to stand up.
The woman she’d seen a moment ago flickered into view again, her form solidifying for several seconds as she nodded, her image holding steady.
Zerra had never been a good queen. She knew that. She wasn’t too blind or foolish to understand that while her queendom had suffered, she had chosen to do nothing.
When she’d listened to the stories from the others—about how broken they’d been, about how relentlessly they’d searched for solutions—she’d felt the gripping shame of her idleness.
She had never deserved to be Aphelion’s queen, and standing amongst the noble rulers of Ouranos, that had never been more obvious.
Zerra had never sought greatness for herself. She’d never sought out glory or recognition, but a part of her at least wanted to be remembered for something.
And so Zerra lifted her head, dropping her arms as she threw her shoulders back.
Finally, she would do something noble. Something that might make up for this life of selfishness.
“I’ll do it,” she said, and every eye turned to her.
The Empyrium smiled, and for the first time in her life, Zerra felt the glowing shine of worthiness spill across her skin.
“And who shall you appoint in your stead?” they asked.
“Cyrus,” she replied immediately. He deserved it. He had tried everything, and she had resisted him at every turn. “My advisor.”
“It will be done.”
“This is a mistake!” Herric said, taking up his cause once again, his entire body trembling with rage. “I am a better king! I can rule over these people! You don’t want her!”
He shouted and screamed, his eyes wild, but the Empyrium and Zerra had made up their minds.
The Empyrium ignored Herric’s ranting, lifting a hand before the six other rulers disappeared, leaving Zerra standing alone in the echoing silence of her new and eternal surroundings.