Chapter 30
THREADS BOUND ETERNAL
Seryn
Twilight cloaked the Elysium Tree in shades of violet and coral. Fireflies danced among us as we waited for the ritual to begin. Embered orb lanterns bobbed on invisible tethers among the weeping branches and round, semitranslucent leaves the color of sweet apricot marmalade.
It was a smallish gathering for an Ancient’s Kollao ceremony. But it’s what my parents wanted. They’d both waited long enough and didn’t want to make the journey to Aion for a more formal ceremony. Morpheus mentioned they could organize a larger celebration in the coming months.
One I wouldn’t be able to attend.
I sighed wistfully, grateful to be a part of this, regardless.
Earlier, I had helped my mother get ready. She had laughed and twirled in her room. I’d never seen her so carefree and joyful. The memory stirred in my mind, bringing a smile to my face.
“Hold still,” I’d murmured, tucking the last blue flower into her curls.
She didn’t hold still. Instead, she turned toward me, eyes shining. “You don’t need to fuss over me.”
With a smile, I smoothed a braid into place on the top of her head and pinned it. “Someone has to.”
She caught my hands before I could pull away, and for a moment, neither of us moved. She studied my face as though memorizing it, like I’d spent my whole life trying to remember hers.
“You’ve grown so much. I’ve missed so much,” she murmured.
Words escaped me, so I only squeezed her fingers.
She continued, her voice hitching, “We won’t get many more moments like this before you leave. Moments where I remember who I was, and who I always wanted to be as a mother when you were little.”
“Now is all that matters, Mama. And it’s enough.” I leaned my forehead against hers, and she breathed the moment in.
“My little star,” she whispered. “I’m so proud of the woman you’ve become.”
“I’ve learned from the best, Mama.”
We shared a long embrace before she sighed and kissed my cheek. “Let’s get me to the ceremony, shall we?” She spun in place, her dress glittering in the sunlight.
“Yes, let’s. It’s about time.”
We laughed, walking elbow in elbow as we left her room.
I blinked, coming back to the present. I’d cherish the moments I’d had with my mother in recent days. Hold them tight in my heart so I could take them out like paintings to study and feel the love and warmth I’d known in them.
Mama practically glowed in a flowing dress the color of midnight.
Delicate sparkles shimmered over the material when she shifted, sheer sleeves fluttering in the breeze to her wrists.
The deep V down the front exposed most of her sternum.
Dainty blue flowers weaved throughout her curls, and thin piles of braids wound atop her head in a crown.
Uneasily, Therrok and Thesa shifted, wings twitching, while they lingered at my mother’s back like foreboding shadows.
The rest of us, including Elders Guust and Strom, gathered in a semicircle around them.
Derya dabbed a handkerchief under her lashes, and Mr. Burlam patted her shoulder with the least severe frown I’d ever seen him wear.
I swore Breena’s eyes were shining more than usual.
She gave me a watery smile when she noticed me looking and then shrugged, making the bright red, strapless dress she wore shift against her thighs.
The light caught on the three pink, raised scars on each of her shoulders, a permanent reminder of the dream reaper’s attack in the Epiales Tombs when we’d saved Kaden.
My father stood before my mother in golden robes, his chest exposed and white breeches slung low on his hips.
A gold diadem, with stars and leaf patterns, circled his crown atop thick, wavy flaxen hair that reached his chin.
He looked at her in awe, hands embracing hers.
He kissed her knuckles, and she smiled, cheeks flushing.
My heart fluttered at the pure devotion written across their features.
Before I’d gone to her chambers, I’d checked on Morpheus. My lips curved at the encounter only hours earlier.
I’d found him in his study, the air warm from the flickering hearth.
He sat hunched in his chair, elbows on his knees, hands buried in his pale hair.
The firelight caught on the dreamlike haze drifting about the room, as though his aura was weaving a spell around him.
Or perhaps he was trying to soothe himself.
“Everything all right?” I asked gently.
He didn’t lift his head at first. “You’d think,” he murmured, voice catching like fingers running the wrong way over velvet, “that after existing for an eternity, I’d have learned to trust the path laid before me.”
I stepped closer. “Are you worried about the ceremony? About binding with Mama?”
A small laugh broke from him. “Ah, you see through me too easily. I’ve never feared the bond with Maya, but, yes—the ceremony.
I’ve disregarded the three sisters before and paid dearly for it.
Perhaps that was always their intent. I would never have found Maya without my imprisonment.
And you wouldn’t have been born from a dream.
” His cheeks puffed out with an exhale. “The Fates do so love the symmetry of it all—taking two halves and pretending they invented wholeness.”
I hesitated. “You don’t sound sure.”
His gaze found mine, eyes crinkling at the corners.
“I’ve never loved someone as I do your mother.
Every promise is a double-edged sword meant to protect, yet ready to slice your soul to ribbons.
Still, I would choose her every time. Suffer any destiny if it meant she remained my other half.
Because she’s worth it. In this, as you said, damn the Fates. ”
Something inside me squeezed. “I understand the feeling.” I sank into the chair opposite him, the flames crackling at my side. “Though the Sisters weave every web—and choice may very well be part of their illusion—I like to think I can take my dagger to their strings whenever I please.”
A smile ghosted over Morpheus’ face. “You have her defiance. But you carry something else, too. Something I can’t quite name yet.”
“Panic and a chronic inability to breathe?”
Chuckling, he shook his head. “No. Fire.” He looked at the hearth, its flames dancing over the ice of his irises. “That’s why Kosmos marked you, daughter. You’re both starlight and shadow, and neither has ever bowed.”
I hesitated, unsure of what to say.
“So,” he went on, “for all our sakes, I’ll follow your lead and believe in choice … believe that it’s real.”
“I hope so,” I whispered.
“Keep that hope close.” He looked up, and for a heartbeat, the Ancient of Dreams vanished, and just a father remained, staring at a future he couldn’t stop.
“When the time comes, and the Fates demand a choice, don’t do it for duty.
Don’t do it for your mother or me. Choose because your heart refuses not to. ”
I blinked, caught off guard. “You … you sound like you know more than you’re saying.”
He sighed. “Perhaps. It’s the curse of walking through others’ dreams.” He reached out, thumb brushing my jaw. “Don’t be afraid of what’s inside you, Seryn. Even stars need the dark to burn.”
A floral breeze tossed a curl over my nose, and I brushed it away, along with the memory.
Gavrel’s fingers tightened around mine, and his lips pressed against my temple for a moment. I leaned into him, closing my eyes and relishing the warmth of his minty breath as it glided over my cheek.
“You are beautiful,” he whispered in my ear.
“Thank you.” I opened my eyes, following the path of my thumb as it traced the lines on his palm. I refused to look at his arms, at the inky darkness that had crept over the length of his left limb.
We had found nothing in the library to offer a resolution. And although Gavrel had allowed his brother a shot at healing the infection, his aura had practically recoiled from the streaks, and I swore they had stretched further along my fated’s flesh before Kaden wrenched his ember back, cursing.
Magister Barden—Jace, I reminded myself—had yet to find a counter rune or a way to rid me of the mark. The Druik in question approached the couple, his posture perfectly aligned.
He wore a simple, but neatly tailored brown overcoat over a crisp, pale tunic and breeches. His smattering of rune tattoos peeked over the edges of his tunic, glowing in soft, buttery yellow hues against his tanned skin.
I was still a bit stunned that he was a prominent runemaster. A highly skilled Druik who’d been hiding all these turns in Evergryn.
On my left, Kaden leaned into me, glaring at our former educator. “Barden is hiding more than we know, I’m sure of it,” he whispered, loud enough that one of Jace’s eyebrows lifted, his fingers tightening on the golden bowl he held in one hand.
“You’re a thorn in everyone’s backside,” Caelora hissed from behind us. I flinched, surprised at her outburst. She had said little since we’d arrived. Actually, she’d made herself scarce; she seemed skilled at making herself fade into the background.
But who would miss the opportunity to see a Kollao ceremony when they were so rare nowadays? Giggling, I shrugged. “She isn’t wrong, Kade. You think everyone is hiding something.”
His face crumpled. “Because it’s true,” he huffed, crossing his arms and giving me and Gavrel an accusatory look.
Rolling my eyes, I tipped my chin toward Jace. “I’m sure there was a good reason for him to hide his skills and identity. He’s lucky the Elders didn’t keep him locked up in the dungeon. Who knows what’s become of their runemaster.”
He narrowed his eyes at the male, lips pressed in a thin line.
I glanced at Gavrel, and he smiled, although it wobbled at the corners as if he was holding back a wince. I brushed my fingers along his jawline. “You’re in pain.”
His gaze dragged down my dress. The silk shifted between silver and gray where the light hit, like moonlight over water.
Three glittering, slender straps draped from each shoulder and crisscrossed over my collarbone, holding the fitted bodice that curved along the top of my breasts.
Tiny, silver-threaded flowers and vines clustered along the hem, the blooms scattering as they climbed toward my waist.
“And you are stunning,” he responded, cupping my chin and bringing my mouth to his.
“Thank you, but flattery won’t distract me. As soon as this is done, we’re doing more research.”
He bent down, whispering into my ear, palm warming my thigh. “I have plenty to research.”
Heat crept up my breasts and neck. I squeezed his hand, biting my lower lip.
“We’ll begin.” Jace’s voice rang out, deep and resonant as it echoed through the trees. Everyone breathed in at once; even the fireflies and swaying vines seemed to still.
He lifted a slender gilded dagger. Light from the hovering orbs rippled over its surface, spilling molten gold across his hands.
“Since the birth of the stars,” he intoned, “until the end of all turns.”
My mother raised her palm in offering.
“With the blood of your fated,” Jace recited, and the blade sliced into her skin.
She flinched, but her hand didn’t waver as her blood welled and then spilled into the waiting bowl when she squeezed her fist. My father followed, his hand steady as Jace opened his flesh, and his blood mingled with my mother’s.
“May Kosmos bless this union,” Jace called out, lifting the bowl between them. “For we are all but halves adrift in the aether, seeking the pieces that make us whole.”
Morpheus laced his fingers with Mama’s. Red dripped over their joined hands and onto the roots of the Elysium Tree. A low thrum pulsed beneath the moss.
“As crimson begets gold,” Jace declared, “threads are bound eternal. Mind, body, soul, and ember—one flame. So speaks Kosmos.”
“So speaks Kosmos,” my parents echoed.
Their auras shimmered around them, my mother’s halo of sparkling night brushing against my father’s gilded starlight. Jace’s own soft yellow radiance pulsed over him. Every inch of him now ablaze with intricate, geometric markings as if his flesh kept a record of each rune he learned.
Gavrel’s hand slipped around my waist, grounding me. Everyone had gone utterly still—even Kaden’s usual smirk had vanished.
The runemaster moved one hand, fingers sketching lines of glowing gold in the air, suspended above the bowl.
Threads bent and twined, forming a sigil: twin crescents that interlocked as they faced opposite directions, an infinity loop tying them together.
At the point where their curves crossed at the top, a flame perched.
He exhaled, and the symbol sank into the mingled blood. The liquid bubbled before swirling into molten gold.
“Although we are born with part of their soul, we have Eros, the Ancient of Love, to praise for the Kollao ceremony. He believed that khordas have a connection so rare that they deserved the chance to reunite the thread that binds them.”
His gaze swept over us. “This binding is sacred; not even the Fates can deny it. Two souls will fuse—their lifeblood, ember, and soul entwined. The mark shall be carved where breath and pulse and life meet. Do you accept this joining?”
“So be it,” my parents replied together.
Jace dipped the blade into the golden ichor, and his dagger gleamed. My mother tightened her grip on Morpheus’ hand.
The runemaster worked swiftly, slicing through skin, muscle, then bone.
Morpheus’ breath caught, his body straining as Jace carved the mirrored crescents and flame into his rib, light poured from the wound, gold replacing blood.
The glow pulsed once, sank deep, and then sealed itself beneath healed muscle and skin.
My father slumped forward and then arched in a silent scream.
When he straightened, the faint sigil shimmered over his chest.
Jace turned to my mother. She pushed her shoulders back and crushed her eyes closed.
When the blade met her sternum, he repeated the ritual.
After he finished, tears spilled over her cheeks.
Morpheus caught her when her knees faltered.
The luminosity between them merged along with their auras.
They were two halves of a cosmic star collapsing into one brilliant whole.
As we cheered, waves of light pulsated from the sacred banyan’s roots and over its bark. I thought it was part of the ceremony until my father tensed, and my mother’s narrowed gaze snapped behind him.
My breath caught as a violent vortex burst into existence, and a dream reaper flew out of the portal. It screeched, its gauzy veil flying up and exposing its gruesome skull and fire-filled hollows beneath.
Damn me to the Murk.
The ritual must have torn a rift between realms, and Phobetor had scraped together enough nightmare ember to rip it open.