12. Draknavor
Draknavor
The last Legend made their choice, and before the blessed contestant had even reached their mentor, Xül was standing. He brushed past me without so much as a glance, his wrist flicking upward in a subtle gesture.
The air... split.
I stumbled backward, my heart slamming against my ribs as reality simply tore open in front of me. Like someone had taken a knife to the fabric of the world itself.
The tear hung there, suspended in empty air. Xül kept walking without looking back, and his servants filed in after him—beings draped in deep crimson and black, their faces hidden beneath hoods.
I supposed I was meant to follow like some obedient pet. But if he couldn't be bothered to speak to me, to acknowledge my existence beyond a dismissive gesture, then I wasn't going to pass up what might be my last chance to see my brother.
We'd never been more than a few miles apart.
Not once in twenty-six years. Even when one of us went out on the fishing boats or traveled to neighboring villages for trade, we were always within reach.
The longest we'd been separated was maybe a day.
I had no idea what kind of strain being domains apart would put on our bond.
How was I going to survive without him? He had been my anchor for my entire life. My other half.
Through our connection, I felt the same desperate ache echoing from him.
I moved around the table, dodging servants and gods and the lingering contestants. I saw Chavore out of the corner of my eye, moving to speak with Kavik. Good a time as any. So I moved faster. Straight towards Thatcher.
“Your mentor has a flair for the dramatics,” he said.
“Tell me about it.”
“Just try not to piss him off.” He smiled wearily.
I couldn’t help but smile myself. We both knew that was unlikely. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
I wrapped my arms around Thatcher, and I had to bite back a sob of relief. He was solid and warm—still my brother, still made of salt and sand and rip currents, just like me. Despite the fancy clothes that made him look like he belonged in this realm of gods and monsters.
"I don't know when I'll see you next," I whispered against his shoulder, so quietly that only he could hear. "But I love you. And we’re going to make it through this."
He squeezed me so hard my ribs hurt, like he could somehow press his strength into my bones and make me invincible. "I love you too. Try not to let them break you."
I wanted to laugh at that. Break me? Xül had no idea what he was dealing with. But even through all my bravado, I was terrified. Terrified of being alone, of failing, of whatever awaited in the domain of death.
I soaked in the feeling of safety, of being whole, before the sound of someone clearing their throat cut through our moment.
"Miss Morvaren. You are to come with me now."
One of Xül's servants had stayed behind, fidgeting with the hem of his robes as he looked nervously at the portal.
The tear flickered and wavered like it might disappear at any second, leaving us stranded in this glittering prison.
I wouldn't have been surprised if it did—abandoning unwanted things seemed exactly like something Xül would do.
Thatcher and I looked at each other one last time. We both nodded solemnly before I forced myself to walk away.
Every step toward that portal felt like tearing away a piece of my soul. Like leaving behind everything that had ever mattered, walking willingly toward my own destruction.
To Draknavor. A place I'd only heard of in whispered stories—the domain where all souls went, where the dead dwelt in eternal darkness.
But as I reached the rip between worlds, I didn’t hesitate. I simply walked through.
The sound of wind whistled past me, carrying a familiar briny scent. And then it snapped shut behind us, and suddenly I was standing in a world that existed beyond the boundaries of everything I'd ever known.
What stretched before me was nothing like the stories I’d been told.
An imposing black castle rose from dark sand, its spires reaching toward a sky the color of fresh blood.
Sharp rocks jutted from the shoreline like the teeth of some massive beast, and between them, waves rolled onto a beach in a steady, hypnotic dance, shimmering foam dragging along the sand at their retreat.
The sight should have been terrifying—this nightmare of black stone and crimson sky. It called to me instead.
Maybe it was the ocean. Even here, there was still water that moved and breathed and sang the same song I'd grown up hearing. The sand beneath my feet was black as volcanic glass. Still sand. Still a beach. Still somehow reminiscent of home, even painted in these otherworldly hues.
In the distance, already striding past massive iron gates marked with an emblem of a black key crossed with a silver scythe, was my new mentor. The Prince of Draknavor, apparently too important—or too annoyed—to wait for his unwanted mentee.
He couldn’t ignore me that easily. I picked up my pace, the flowing skirts of my gown tangling around my legs, then broke into a full sprint. The servant behind me made a sound of alarm, but I ignored him.
I'd spent my entire life being underestimated, being told to be quiet and careful. Not anymore.
Xül flung open the castle's heavy doors—massive things that looked like they could withstand a siege. My hand slammed against the wood as it began to close. The impact jarred my shoulder, but I shoved the door open anyway, my breathing ragged from the sprint and the thin air of this new domain.
"Excuse me!" I huffed, pushing inside and immediately circling around him to block his path.
The interior of the castle was just as imposing as the exterior—all soaring arches and shadowed alcoves, lit by what looked like floating orbs of pale fire. But I barely had time to take it in before Xül finally deemed it polite to look at me directly.
Up close, his presence was even more overwhelming than it had been in the arena. Those eyes narrowed on me. He was tall enough that I had to tilt my head back to meet his gaze, and handsome in the way that predators were beautiful—lean and powerful and dangerous.
"Um... so—" I started, then immediately cursed myself for the breathless quality in my voice.
"You can get out of my way." His voice was cultured, precise, every word clipped with aristocratic disdain.
The dismissal made my blood simmer, burning away my nerves like vapor. Good. Anger I could work with. Anger made me dangerous too.
"Care to tell me what exactly I'm supposed to do now?" I planted my feet, making it clear I had no intention of moving .
"That's what the servants are for." He began to move around me again, but I stepped back into his path.
"Are the servants going to train me too?"
Xül's sneer was a work of art—beautiful and cutting and utterly without warmth. He leaned down until his breath tickled my ear, and I fought not to shiver at the proximity.
"Not those servants," he murmured, and there was something lethal in the way he said it.
What the fuck does that mean?
My heart stuttered, but I lifted my chin anyway. " You're supposed to train me."
"We'll get around to it." This time he successfully maneuvered past me, already shrugging out of his formal jacket like our conversation was over.
The garment hit the floor, followed immediately by his shoes as he kicked them off without breaking stride.
“In the meantime, enjoy the many amenities of the Bone Spire.”
Servants appeared from nowhere to collect the discarded clothing, their movements so practiced it was clearly a regular occurrence. I was dealing with a new level of prick.
"What am I supposed to do now?" I called after him, my voice dripping with disdain.
He paused at the base of a sweeping staircase that curved up into shadow, turning back just enough to deliver his parting shot. "I simply couldn't care less."
Then he was gone, and moments later a door slammed somewhere in the upper reaches of the castle, the sound echoing through the cavernous space like a death knell.
Wonderful. Just wonderful.
I stood there in the middle of that vast entrance hall, surrounded by servants who couldn't quite meet my eyes, feeling like I'd been slapped. No—worse than slapped. Erased. Made invisible.
"I can show you to your quarters," one of the Shadowkin servants said meekly, clutching one of Xül's discarded shoes to her chest.
I stared at the empty staircase, rage building in me like a tide.
I couldn't believe this. Just because I wasn't his first choice—just because he'd wanted my brother instead of me—didn't mean I wasn't worth his time.
I quite literally pulled down the stars and forged them into a gods-damned sword, for fucks sake.
And he was treating me like an inconvenience. Like something he'd been forced to accept against his will.
It didn't matter. If I had to teach myself, I would.
If I had to figure out how to survive in this realm on my own, then that's what I'd do.
At least here, for the first time in my life, I could use my powers without restraint.
There was no need to hide, no reason to hold back.
There was no telling what I might be capable of when I wasn't constantly swallowing my own fire.
The gown suddenly felt suffocating—flowing gauze and metallic plating designed to make me look like something I wasn't. Something delicate.
Fuck that.
Ignoring the servant's increasingly frantic offers to escort me to my chambers, I turned on my heel and pushed back through the heavy doors. Enjoy the amenities? Alright. The iron gates were still open, and I walked through them without hesitation, making my way back down to the shore.
I clawed at the fastenings of my gown until the entire thing fell in a pool around my feet. The metallic pieces hit the sand with small, musical sounds, and the gauzy fabric billowed in the strange wind that whistled past me. I stood there in nothing but silk undergarments.
Then I tore those off too.
And I walked straight into the ocean.
The water stung with a bone-deep coldness. It tasted of salt and metal and what might have been magic itself. I embraced the shock of it, the way it drove the breath from my lungs and made my heart race. I dove under the next wave and let the silence underwater soothe the raw edges of my fury.
No voices down here. No expectations or golden eyes judging my worth.
No gods deciding my fate without bothering to consult me.
Only the muffled sound of my own heartbeat and the pressure of water against my skin, washing away the last traces of perfume and the paint they’d slathered across my face until I was just..
. me. Thais from Saltcrest, who'd grown up diving for pearls and racing her brother through surf that tried to drag us both under.
I stayed beneath the waves until my lungs burned, surfacing only to dive again. And again.
A wild, dangerous freedom hummed in my chest. I floated on my back, staring up at those distant points of light, and for once, I didn't fight the power humming beneath my skin. I didn't force it down or lock it away. Instead, I reached for it.
The stars answered. They brightened one by one, their light intensifying until the darkened sky paled beneath their brilliance. I spread my arms wide in the water, feeling the connection between me and those distant celestial things.
When I finally made my way back to shore, my hair hanging in dark ropes down my back and droplets clinging to my skin, the distant moon cast silver reflections across the black sand. As I bent to retrieve my discarded garments, movement caught my eye.
A silhouette framed in one of the castle's high windows.
A shiver ran through me. I straightened slowly, water still dripping from my hair, and looked directly up at that window. At him.
Because it was him. Even from this distance, even with shadows obscuring his features, I knew it was Xül.
I could have covered myself. Could have snatched the dress and hidden behind it.
Instead, I stood there and let him look.
Let him see exactly what he'd chosen—not some biddable girl who would bow and scrape and beg for his attention, but someone who would meet his gaze without flinching.
Eventually, I began my walk back toward the castle. My bare feet left prints in the dark sand, and I could feel his eyes tracking my movement with every step .
The servant from before was waiting by the iron gates, wringing her hands. She immediately averted her eyes when she saw my state of undress, her pale cheeks flushing.
"I guess you can show me my room now," I said, surprised by how steady my voice sounded. How utterly unashamed.
She nodded frantically and led me through the castle's winding corridors, past stone statues and doorways that led to rooms full of shadows.
But I didn’t pay attention to any of it. My mind was focused on the road ahead.
I was Thais Morvaren, wielder of stars, and I had come here to learn how to kill a god.
If the Prince thought he could ignore me, he was about to learn exactly how wrong he was.