Chapter 20 Vada #3
I didn’t think she realized what a gift she’d just offered to me.
She had her reservations, and I knew they stemmed from Sabine’s betrayal, but I hadn’t realized just how deep that betrayal had gone.
She’d been harboring this deep-seated resentment for too long, and it was destroying her.
I'd have to prove to her otherwise to get past that barrier, but I wasn’t sure how just yet.
“Do you have the recording, sweet girl?” I asked Adaela as she was pulling out her phone. I’d let it go for now.
“Yes, just a second. I’m unsure what the magic of the Dark Forest will do to the recording. If I can’t pull it here, I’ll have my shadows recite it,” Adaela admitted.
She fiddled with her phone, opening up the text message that Michael sent to her. The phone’s screen was flickering on and off. She sighed, then instead of pulling on her shadow magic, she pulled on her glamour magic, turning the room into Poe’s living room.
The Moirai sisters recited the prophecy once again.
“When love prevails and all is lost
The driven must now pay the cost
The lovers lost to ruin and fate
A dream desired, that cannot take
‘Til one and one make three again
The world is lost to hate and sin
The worlds collide on a direct path
The portals’ strength will then collapse
So on and on the great war must begin again
To purge the worlds of what has been stolen
A hero must not take the bait
There is still hope within this fate
A mountain will divide the weak
From gaining strength against the meek
A stance must make itself known
A kingdom rises with one on the throne.”
All of us remained quiet for a minute, Yaga studying me intensely. “I’ve heard this before, many moons ago—” Yaga started.
“Yes, Vada has made me aware. We’ve been so busy that I haven’t had time to even think about deciphering it,” Adaela responded tersely.
“Well, let’s start this line by line. The first part, Adaela, sounds like you. Your love for the people across all realms drove you away from this place and its constant need for violence and war. You were tired of living a life without authenticity, no?” Yaga asked.
Adaela nodded, and Yaga continued. “You must have known that the realms wouldn’t leave you alone forever, right?
” Adaela slumped, and Yaga huffed. “Oh, come on. You have multiple races who have fought for power their entire existence, and you didn’t think that it would come to this?
The power you have for unity is a power all its own, isn’t it? ”
Adaela, mindlessly pulling at a loose string on her pants, looked up at Yaga, steeling her shoulders and sitting up straighter. “I knew it was a possibility, but we got so wrapped up in the fact that we were thriving, we stopped caring as much about the threat.”
Yaga rolled her eyes. “Well, that’s obvious.
” She pointed a finger with thick, black nails at me.
“I told her as much over a century ago, but it seems like Vada has forgotten everything but the prophecy about her mate. Of course, she wouldn’t remember that her mate’s life is on the line again.
It’s obvious in the second line of the prophecy here.
We’re at a worlds-ending prophecy, are we not?
The two of you will not have a chance unless we begin right now to plan. ”
I read through Yaga’s chicken scratch while absently rubbing my thumb against the outside of Adaela’s thigh. “What does ‘til one and one make three again’ mean?”
Yaga banged her head against the table, obviously frustrated, then flicked her hand at Adaela. “Go on, tell her.”
Adaela, lost for words, opened and closed her mouth a couple times. “Tell her what?”
“Girl, I’ve been around the block a few times.
I believe it’ll be time I travel back with you when you two make it back to St. Louis.
I don’t have all the pieces, and it seems that the other oracles don’t either,” Yaga grumbled, taking a large bite out of her scone.
“Does she already know about what you’re hiding? ”
“She does,” Adaela said. “I’m not sure how you knew about it, though. The only person, aside from myself, who knew about it was—” she gritted her teeth and sucked in a breath before saying her name “—Sabine.”
“She was not the only one.” Yaga interjected. “The Box was created by me, though the objects inside were not.”
“How did they come to be in Tartarus, then? And which objects?” Adaela asked, annoyance coating her voice.
“I didn’t know that was where it ended up.
A long time ago, before I came to be in Underhill, I was part of what is now known as Russia.
Pagan rituals were frequent before Christianity found its way to Russia.
We were often in conversation with our Southern pantheons.
I was asked by Zeus and Hera to create this Box, not knowing what would be put inside it.
I still am not quite sure. I believe it housed a being, but I’m unsure who.
I was only asked to create a piece that would hold the unholdable,” she replied.
I tried to put myself in Adaela’s shoes.
She’d had a box which held the key to destroying every universe in her possession.
She believed that she was the only person in existence to know what sort of power she possessed.
Until they told me about this, I thought this was a myth—a cautionary tale told to children to keep them from acting up.
If I were in her shoes, I likely would have done the same thing.
I wouldn’t have wanted anyone to know that I had something like this either.
That was a lot of power to wield when you only wanted to live a life of peace.
“It’s okay, sweet girl. I don’t agree that you’d held this back from anyone, but I understand where you’re coming from,” I reluctantly said.
“Why aren’t you angrier? Scared? Pissed off at me?
I wouldn’t react the way you are if I were in your position.
I held something significant back from you—from the entire Pax—and this secret could end life as we know it,” she got up, then sat right back down, letting her emotions and anxiety seep through.
“Because I would have done exactly the same thing in your position. I think you forget that I’ve lived longer than most. I’ve learned how to parse through things quickly.
I don’t agree with how you went about this, but I understand.
I’ve also had a century to come to terms with knowing of a prophecy and not telling anyone.
Who am I to judge?” I replied, pulling her chair closer to mine.
Adaela’s attention focused back on Yaga, her face losing all color, but her skin still illuminated by the power Underhill was feeding her. With a shaky voice, she asked, “Do you know who the culprits are? Who would be strong enough to open multiple portals at once?”
“That, my dear, is not something the Fates have let me in on. That would be too easy, would it not?” she replied kindly. “Let’s start from the beginning, shall we? I think the remainder of the prophecy may be a little more obvious from here. Tell us how the Box came into your possession, Adaela.”
Adaela told us how her father sent her on a mission, right before her betrothal.
She was tasked with descending to Tartarus, the resting place of the Titans, to find object of power her father demanded.
Before my sweet girl left, she was beaten within an inch of her life, shackled in iron to prevent her from using her abilities against her father and his cronies.
Her father was the reason the Great War began.
Adaela stopped for several minutes here, gathering her resolve to talk more about her journey.
At one point, I moved Adaela into my lap, silently giving her encouragement to tell the remainder of the story.
I rubbed small circles against her back as she told us of fighting harpies, Demons, and even Cronus himself to find this object of power.
The object her father wanted was not Pandora’s Box, but rather a primeval sword that held the ability to remove one’s power in death and give that power to someone else.
Only people from Adaela’s bloodline were able to wield the sword, and her father wanted it back.
Cronus held possession of the sword, but he also had the Box.
He had told her a story of her mother, and how the Box meant something to her.
In exchange for both the sword and the Box, Cronus granted Adaela the chance to answer a riddle—one she was sworn not to tell another living soul—in exchange for her life.
If she was able to answer the riddle, Cronus would then be required to gift Adaela two possessions: the sword and the Box.
Since Adaela had gone to Tartarus alone, the only other person who knew about the Box was her long-time lover when she’d brought it home for safekeeping.
It wasn’t until she had learned about her lover’s betrayal that the ruination of an entire people happened.
I kissed her tears away, murmuring in her ear about how brave she was for holding this secret for as long as she had.
For a long while after that, I held Adaela in my arms, silently lending her my strength and rocking her in my arms as she finally let out a century’s worth of pent-up secrets and heartbreak.
I understood betrayal. I understood the desire to protect yourself as well as the others around you by sacrificing everything you knew to stand in your morals.
Yaga seemed to understand this too, as she puttered around the kitchen, giving the two of us space. She tidied up as best she could in her cluttered kitchen. She was aware of the implications of this Box going missing.