49. The Blind Seer
The Blind Seer
The midday sun hung high in Draknavor's blood-red sky.
Xül walked beside me, his long strides measured to match my own as we made our way back to the Bone Spire.
Five days had passed since that night in his study, and neither of us had brought it up—what happened on his desk, the way he'd watched me, the promises whispered in darkness.
"Your crown is growing," Xül said, his voice casual as his gaze flicked to the motes of starlight that now hovered above my head—three more than when I'd first summoned them.
"Ten points now," I replied, unable to keep the pride from my voice.
His lips curved into that not-quite-smile. "You’ve certainly improved."
"Such high praise," I said dryly. "Should I faint from the honor?"
"Save your theatrics," he drawled, but there was no real bite to his tone. When his arm brushed against mine as we navigated a narrow part of the path, neither of us pulled away.
"Your hair's grown longer," he observed, his voice dropping to that low timbre that sent shivers down my spine .
"An unfortunate side effect of not dying yet," I replied, forcing lightness into my tone.
His laugh was soft and genuine. "Ever the optimist, Morvaren."
The Bone Spire rose before us in all its terrible majesty. A figure waited at the gates—one of the Shadowkin servants, his form rippling in the crimson daylight.
Xül's posture changed, all ease vanishing as he straightened to his full, imposing height. “Yes?” he called as we approached.
The servant bowed low. "My lord. A message has arrived." He extended a sealed letter.
Xül took it, examining the wax seal.
"What is it?" I asked, moving closer to see.
"We received this one in time, at least," he murmured, more to himself than to me.
I leaned against the obsidian gate, studying the symbols on the letterhead. Two emblems intertwined—one a spiral, the other a complex knot.
"Whose symbols are those?" I asked, though I sensed the answer would be unpleasant.
"Fate and Chaos," Xül replied, his eyes still on the seal. "Vorinar and Aella will host the next trial."
I straightened, unease crawling up my spine. "That doesn't sound like a promising combination."
"No, it doesn’t." A troubled expression flitted across his features before he masked it. He broke the seal and scanned the contents quickly, his brow furrowing.
"Is it bad?" I asked, not entirely sure I wanted the answer.
“Not necessarily,” he said, turning back to the servant. "You may go. Prepare for Miss Morvaren and myself to be absent this evening."
The servant nodded and disappeared into the shadows.
Xül folded the letter and tucked it inside his jacket. "Come. We need to get you cleaned up and ready."
"Ready for what exactly?"
He began walking toward the Bone Spire's entrance, his pace brisk. "We're going to the only place where a master of fate resides outside of Voldaris."
I hurried to catch up with him. "I’m confused."
He paused, turning to meet my gaze. "This man lives in Elaren, Starling."
"What?”
"Yes." He resumed walking. "Go clean up. We leave in an hour."
I wanted to press for more information, but the set of his shoulders told me I'd get nothing further—not yet. So, I headed to my chambers, my mind whirling with possibilities. The mortal realm. After everything that had happened since the Trials began, I was going back to where it all started.
When I emerged an hour later, Xül was waiting in the entrance hall. He'd changed as well, foregoing his usual elaborate attire for something far less flashy—though he still looked every inch the divine prince he was.
"Ready?" he asked.
"Can you at least tell me what region we’re visiting?"
"In time." He extended his hand, and I took it without hesitation. "Close your eyes."
I did as he asked, feeling the now-familiar pull of portal magic wrap around us. The air crackled with power, and then?—
Heat. Dry, searing heat against my skin. And air that tasted different—cleaner, lighter.
I opened my eyes to find myself standing in an endless expanse of desert, golden sands stretching toward the horizon in every direction. The sky above was a brilliant, painful blue.
I inhaled deeply, savoring the familiar quality of the air. It had been so long since I'd breathed it that I'd almost forgotten how it felt in my lungs .
Xül was already striding forward across the dunes, his boots leaving barely a trace in the sand. I hurried to catch up with him.
"When exactly are you going to explain any of this?" I demanded.
"All will be revealed in due time," he replied, not slowing his pace.
I scowled at his back. "That's the most insufferably mysterious thing I've ever heard."
"Then my reputation remains intact."
"Who is this master of fate? Why isn't he in Voldaris? Why are we trudging through a desert to find him?" The questions tumbled out of me as I matched his stride.
"She asks, as if I would suddenly change my mind about revealing everything just because she demands it with increasing volume," Xül mused to no one in particular.
"You’re infuriating," I hissed.
"And you’re observant, starling."
As we crested a dune, a small village appeared in the distance, shimmering.
Mud-brick buildings in warm ochre tones clustered around what appeared to be a central well.
Palms provided patches of shade, and colorful awnings stretched between buildings to shelter the narrow streets from the punishing sun.
As we approached, people came into view—women carrying clay jugs, children playing in the sparse shadows, merchants calling out their wares.
As we entered the village proper, I noticed how the residents reacted to Xül. They didn't scream or bow, but they definitely recognized him as something other . They gave him a wide berth, eyes cast downward, bodies angled away.
Xül, for his part, seemed to enjoy their discomfort, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.
"They’re afraid of you," I said quietly.
"Of course they are," he replied. "All mortals fear death."
We finally reached what appeared to be a temple at the far edge of the village. Unlike the simple mud-brick structures of the homes, this building was made of pale sandstone, its facade carved with swirling designs. Robed figures moved in and out of its arched entrance, their garments a soft gray.
I stopped dead in my tracks.
Priests. Even if they weren't the white-robed followers of Olinthar, they were still priests—servants of the divine, enforcers of the gods' will among mortals. My heart began to race, my palms suddenly slick with sweat that had nothing to do with the desert heat.
Xül turned, one eyebrow raised in question before understanding dawned on his face. He moved closer, his voice pitched low so only I could hear.
"These are not like the priests you knew," he said. "They serve Vorinar, and they harm no one. Their purpose is to observe and record, not to hunt or capture."
I watched as one of the robed figures walked past us, head bowed in quiet acknowledgment of Xül. Unlike Olinthar's priests with their cold, searching eyes, this one's face was serene, almost contemplative.
"I'm not going in there," I said, my voice distant.
"This is the best I can offer," Xül replied, his expression unusually serious. "If it's even possible to prepare for what Vorinar and Aella have planned."
"I'll take my chances," I said, stepping back. "I'd rather wing it."
Xül's eyes narrowed as he studied my face. "Don’t be ridiculous." He glanced meaningfully at another priest who walked past us. "You can’t actually expect me to believe you’re afraid of these people."
I stiffened. "Fear and hatred are two very different things."
"Yes," he agreed. "And you can use either to fuel your stars if you feel threatened."
“So I have your permission then?” I eyed him.
“I suppose, though you won’t need it.” He smiled. “Everyone in there would simply shatter if you brought the sky down. These aren’t warriors or strategists. They’re peaceful. ”
I watched the priests moving about their business.
"So I shouldn’t expect any violence then?" I asked, hating the vulnerability in my voice.
Xül’s expression shifted. "I promise. And if they tried, they would not survive the attempt."
The fierce certainty in his voice steadied me. I took a deep breath and nodded. "Fine. But if anything feels wrong?—"
"We leave immediately," he finished. "You have my word."
He extended his hand again, and after a moment's hesitation, I took it. His fingers closed around mine.
The interior of the temple was cool and dim after the harsh desert sun, lit by oil lamps that cast dancing shadows on the sand-colored walls. The air smelled of incense and old parchment. Priests moved about quietly, some transcribing scrolls, others lounging in alcoves carved into the walls.
Xül led me through the main chamber and up a spiraling staircase. The higher we climbed, the fewer people we encountered, until finally we stood before a simple wooden door.
He turned to me, taking a deep breath. "What I am about to show you can never be repeated to anyone. Do you understand?"
The seriousness of his tone made me hesitate. "Why show me at all, then?"
"Because you need every advantage you can get," he replied.
Before I could respond, he continued. "Promise me, Thais."
I nodded slowly. "Fine."
He held my gaze for a moment longer, then rapped his knuckles against the handle. Without waiting for a response, he pushed it open and gestured for me to follow him inside.
The room beyond was small and sparsely furnished—a few cushions on the floor, a low table with a tea service, and shelves lining the walls, filled with scrolls and strange objects I couldn't identify.
Sitting cross-legged on a cushion was an elderly man, his back straight despite his age, his eyes closed.