Chapter 29 Rhea #2
He singled me out among all the Skyriders, taking only me when he emerged from the mountain that day.
How perfectly that had fed my vanity, my desperate need to matter.
To be important. To be valued. I turn away from the memory.
The most effective lies are the ones we tell ourselves.
All he had to do was water a seed already thirsting within me.
Though I still don't understand why he needed to take me in the first place.
I float from the cave, pushing myself deeper into my subconscious until I find it, the memory that tops my list. The day I agreed to return without my memories.
We're standing at the edge of a cliff overlooking a moonlit valley. Tahr paces nervously, his usual composure gone.
"The King grows restless," he tells me, running a hand through his unbraided white hair. "These spies he sent may just be the beginning of something more stupid he's planning."
I frown. "What can we do? If he finds us before it's time—"
"We need to distract him," Tahr interrupts. "Perhaps you should go back. I don't want you to leave, but your return will surely send his attention elsewhere."
"And by elsewhere, you mean me," I snap, displeased with this idea.
Tahr's eyes grow warm. "Think about it, Rhea. Your unexpected return would demand attention. The missing Skysinger back from the dead? The King would be so focused on where you've been, what you know..."
He's not wrong, but the idea of going back after my long absence makes my stomach twist into knots. I've been gone for nearly a year. How will I explain my disappearance convincingly? I know too much about Heratrix, about Tahr, about the eggs.
I stare at my hands, remembering how they'd trembled when I first touched Heratrix's stone-like scales. When I first arrived, the Goddess looked like she was carved from rock, never moving, barely breathing, just a massive statue entombed beneath a mountain. But now…
"I gave up everything I worked hard to accomplish, and I've waited a year for Heratrix to wake," I murmur, walking to the edge of the cliff. "And she's stirring now. I want to be here."
Tahr comes close, his hands finding mine with tenderness.
"I understand your hesitation," he says, voice like honey poured over gravel.
"You've been waiting for this moment. We both have.
" His thumbs trace circles on my palms. "I'm just worried that now that the time has finally come, it may all get ruined by that fool. "
In the dreamscape, I search for deception, but he seems truly earnest and concerned.
"The Goddess is vulnerable right now," he continues, glancing back toward the mountain. "And Craven has our scent like a hound. His paranoia could ruin everything."
The wind whips my hair across my face. I push it back, considering his words.
"It just seemed like a good idea," Tahr sighs, squeezing my hands. "But we'll think of something else."
I look up with sudden inspiration. "Maybe if I went back without the knowledge, go back as I was a year ago." My heart sinks as I see the eager relief on my own face. "If you could block these memories temporarily..."
No shimmer of mental manipulation. The idea was entirely my own.
"A clean slate," I continue, words tumbling out faster now. "I could return as if I'd been lost, with no memory of this place, of Heratrix, of..." I hesitate, glancing at Tahr.
"Of me," he finishes softly.
I nod, eyes bright with what I thought was cleverness. "Exactly. I wouldn't be lying. Not really. I simply wouldn't remember."
I pull out of the memory, sick with self-loathing. The canopy comes back into focus as tears blur my vision. Dammit! I wasn't being controlled or forced. I really volunteered. I cover my face as it goes hot with shame.
—You were trying to protect everyone, Zephyros whispers through our bond.
—I was taking the easy way out, I correct him. I didn't want to face what I'd done, abandoning my post, abandoning you, breaking my promise to Vaylen.
Tahr had explained that staying in the Flametop Mountains prevented communication with my dragon. A protection designed to keep Heratrix well hidden. So I chose to leave Zephyros behind for the promise of a Goddess who would miraculously fix everything.
I sit up, wiping tears away with angry swipes. No more excuses. No more hiding from my choices or blaming others for my mistakes. I get off the bed and stand at the window, watching the sunset paint Emberton's towers gold.
I made these choices. All of them. Tahr planted seeds, yes, but my insecurities nurtured them, letting them bloom into catastrophe because they fed my pride, because they protected me from hurt and rejection.
Pushing away from the window, I catch my reflection in the mirror—royal guest chambers, soon-to-be queen attires filling the closet, all the trappings of a powerful life. Isn't this what I wanted?
"I don't deserve any of this," I whisper to my reflection.
The woman staring back has my face but seems a stranger, someone selfish and reckless who destroyed everything she touched.
Embernia needs stability. Honor. Someone who puts duty before personal desire.
It needs Vaylen.
And now he's gone.
My throat tightens. Not just gone, likely dead, because of my choices. Because I let fear guide me. Because I thought I knew better than everyone else.
I twist my hands together, remembering Vaylen's face when Craven announced the stupid betrothal. His fury when he confronted me after. His body against mine one last time. I close my eyes against the memory.
"I'm sorry," I whisper uselessly. "I'm so sorry. I should have told you I love you."
I collapse onto my knees, shoulders shaking as my control finally shatters. Tears come hot and fast, burning trails down my cheeks as I give myself over to grief. The emptiness inside me expands, a dark void consuming everything that once defined me.
"Vaylen." I whisper his name like a prayer, though no goddess would listen to someone like me. "I did this. I broke us."
My fingers curl against the cold stone floor, nails scraping as I remember his touch, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, how his voice softened when we were alone. All gone. Destroyed by my arrogance, my fear, my lies.
—Little one, Zephyros's voice flows through our bond, wrapping around my broken pieces. Your pain calls to me.
A gentle vibration starts at the base of my skull, spreading outward. Zephyros hums through our connection. The sound resonates deep within my chest, a harmonic rhythm that matches my heartbeat.
—I have you, Rhealyn. I will always have you.
The humming grows, enveloping me in waves of comfort. I curl into myself, letting the vibrations cocoon me like I'm floating in something warm and safe. Protected. Held.
My tears continue, but the hollow ache inside me softens at the edges, just enough to breathe through the pain. After the tears are spent, I rise to my feet and splash cold water on my face from the basin. I wipe away all traces of weakness, forcing iron into my spine as I stare at my reflection.
A Skysinger stares back. Not a bride. Not a pawn. Not an Omneira. Just me—Rhealyn Rose Wyndward—with wind in my lungs and steel in my heart.
I brace myself, steadying my breathing as I prepare to dive back into the mountain's memories. The weight of what I've already seen presses down on me, but there's more to uncover.
"No more tears," I tell my reflection. "No more feeling sorry for yourself."
Self-pity is a luxury I can't afford, not with Vaylen missing and someone like Tahr plotting to make himself king. Tomorrow's departure isn't just about the war. It's Tahr's first move in a match I never realized had begun.
My hands steady as I take a deep breath. If I've made this mess, then by the four winds, I'll make sure no one else pays for my mistakes.