Chapter 53
Chapter Fifty-Three
Thea
If facing the possibility was going to be anything like facing the truth and the fear, I was nearly positive I would not enjoy it.
I slumped forward, resting my hands on my knees and panting heavily in exhaustion.
Athene stood as stiff-backed as ever, watching as I worked to wipe my face and pull myself back together.
My hair hung in tangled knots down my back, and it snagged as I tried to run my hands through it and force it out of my face.
“Are you ready?” Athene inquired, her voice far too light for the situation.
I threw my head back, closing my eyes and trying to breathe through the raging storm in the deepest parts of my belly.
Magic.
I’d gone without feeling it for so long that now it was the only thing I could feel. It overwhelmed all my senses, leaving even the hairs on my arms standing on end. It was as if a foreign static electricity coasted over me in steady waves from the top of my hair down and through my toes.
It felt like I was about to explode.
“How can I answer that?” I grumbled, unable to stop myself from snapping at her. Politeness wasn't possible when every part of my body was aching. “How can I truthfully answer whether I’m ready when I don’t know what you're about to subject me to?”
Athene took my outburst patiently, with a slight nod. “It is not I who subjects you to this, Goddess of the Veil. This is your own journey. Only you can take it. I am only here as a guide.”
Perhaps I should have said no to the Forging.
Because it was starting to seem like whatever change or deeper awareness I was supposed to gain from doing this wasn’t worth it.
“What does it even mean to face the possibility?” I rested my hands on my hips. “As my guide, you could provide a little more clarity.”
I watched as she fought to contain the smile that threatened to emerge at the edges of her lips.
She shifted her weight, taking two careful steps toward me.
“The truth is what you know has passed. The fear is what you worry may come to pass. The possibility will certainly come to pass depending on...”
Her voice trailed off, her eyes glazing over as if she were thinking about something else. A thought far off from the current time and place.
“Depending on?” I prompted impatiently.
She snapped back to awareness, meeting my gaze as the Veil began to fade away and the next vision rose to life around us. “You, Goddess. Depending on you.”
This time, the vision didn’t emerge around us slowly. This time, it was a vortex into which I fell. It stole the air from my lungs and tore me out of the Veil into the possibility of what was going to come next.
My ears rang out in protest, and I instinctively lifted my hands to cover them, ducking rapidly as a plume of orange and blue dragonfire blew over my head, an orange-scaled dragon soaring over me only moments later as a wave of heat fell across my skin.
I yelped instinctively, stumbling away. My feet slipped on the muddy ground as soldiers ran past me, swinging weapons and grunting.
Blood splattered across my back, arms and legs.
The wetness of it practically soaked me through, and I fell, the sound of screaming metal and cracking bone all I could hear.
Just as I found my balance, a body came hurtling through the air towards me, and I darted to the left, just barely avoiding it.
“Where are we?” I screamed towards Athene, who watched the anarchy around us without a hint of unease.
She didn’t even move as a sword passed directly through her and into the seam between two dark plates of armor.
The soldier grunted out in pain as the blade pierced into him, but Athene simply glanced down at where the weapon stabbed through the soldier and watched as he fell when it was pulled free.
“I cannot answer questions here.”
“Then you’re not a very helpful guide!” A blast detonated to my left, rubble and body parts flying in the air, and I ducked, arms lifting to protect my head.
“You cannot be injured here,” Athene reminded me, her form flickering in and out as soldiers repeatedly ran through her.
That fact didn’t stop me from yelping when a sword came darting towards me, passing directly through my legs. A shiver worked its way through me.
Exhaling, I focused on the world around me, trying to make sense of the different colors of the armies and raging men fighting against each other. Black armor on some, a mismatch on others. Woods in the distance. A well-cared for manor behind me.
Nikolai’s.
We were standing on the lawn of the army compound we’d built at Nikolai’s home, which could only mean one thing.
Hyrax was attacking the rebels.
I spun, tracking the dragons in the sky. Three of them. Orange. Black. And teal blue.
No gold. No Clay.
Shields slammed together next to me, the sound reverberating so strongly that I couldn’t help but stumble backward.
Then something in the recesses of my mind clicked, and I recognized that tuft of dark hair falling out of a silver helmet.
“Rankor?”
Three men surrounded him, each covered in the dark armor of the Hyraxian forces.
Wildly, his head spun from side to side, fingers flexing on the hilt of his sword as he calculated his odds.
“Retreat,” he murmured softly to himself, eyes darting over the entirety of the field. Then, louder, “Retreat!”
The Hyraxian soldiers fell upon him at once, swords slicing towards his head.
Lifting his shield, he deflected one even as he jammed his own weapon towards another.
A fist flew forward, connecting with Rankor’s jaw with a sickening crack.
It hung at an impossible angle as he threw his elbow backwards, connecting with his attacker’s groin.
The metal of the armor cracked from the force of Rankor’s Godly strength.
The first man doubled back, swinging down his weapon once more, and Rankor feinted to the left, avoiding the blow while also forcing it to come down on the second man who still cupped himself in pain.
And yet, for as skilled and angry as Rankor was, it was the third man he was entirely unable to account for.
It was the third member who stabbed down through the hip pocket of Rankor’s armor as I lurched forward, my own hands passing helplessly through him.
It was the third man who ripped off Rankor’s helmet when he dropped to his knees, blood gushing onto the ground.
It was the third man who yelled, “Where is the princess?” as Rankor glared up at him with undeniable contempt.
“Stop it!” I screamed, body going rigid.
And when Rankor spat in his face and told him to burn in the Underworld, it was the third man who lowered his sword along Rankor’s neck and sliced clean through.
Rankor’s eyes went wide.
My wail was near silent, drowned out by the fire of cannons in the distance and the blasts of Detonators. And despite my inability to even hear my own cries, I continued endlessly, unable to stop as I watched his brown eyes go cold.
The metallic stench of blood, his and that of the countless bodies around me was an invasive poison in my nose, forcing itself inside me against my will.
Wordlessly, I stared as other soldiers pressed forward, stepping over Rankor, oblivious to the fact that their General, their leader—my friend—was the body that they trampled over so carelessly.
Their movements all blurred around me, moving both too fast and too slow for me to understand.
The only thing I did understand was that I couldn’t handle seeing his lifeless stare for another second.
Athene didn’t bother to follow me as I fled, limbs moving awkwardly as I hurtled under swinging blades and over fallen bodies.
The Hyraxian forces were endless. Elaina continued swooping low, taking out as many as she could, but as Veric and Damon locked in aerial combat with two other Dragons, it became clear that we were at a serious disadvantage.
My powers surged at the sensation of so many souls passing over the Veil into the Underworld, connecting with so many all at once that I couldn’t distinguish who I was even feeling.
Until one tore through me with such familiarity that my knees buckled.
No. Not him. Not him, too.
Kent.
His soul felt like satin. Ivory satin and a gentle hum of music strummed along a guitar. I followed the sensation of it until my eyes locked on the balcony above me. And just as I zeroed in on him, I choked on a gasp, hand shaking around my face.
His lifeless body, several arrows still hanging out of it, fell over the railing and hurtled to the ground.
“Kent!” I jerked forward, feet sliding on the wet ground, even though I knew deep down I would never get there quick enough to save him.
By the time he collided with the ground, his soul had already passed on. I couldn’t feel him anymore.
Minutes. In only a matter of minutes, two of my friends were dead.
Athene appeared at my side, her hand on my shoulder, a grounding sensation.
“Why are you doing this to me?” My voice broke into a sob.
“I am not.” She reached for my waist, pulling me even as I felt weightless, holding me up even as I shuddered against the magic building inside of me.
It hurt.
Gods, it hurt. My spine locked, lurching into a stiff upright position as my muscles protested at the unreasonable stretch. Tension coiled through me, and I slammed my jaw shut, teeth cracking from the force.
“Do not fight it,” Athene advised. “The Forging is reaching completion.”
“Iris,” I whispered, body locked unmovable as I watched my friend rush towards Kent’s body.
Several others joined her, all huddled together, trying to lift his body and assess the damage.
They didn’t realize he was already gone.
Tears streamed down her face, mixing with the blood that leaked from a swollen cut across her brow.
Her head spun wildly, but I didn’t know what or who she was searching for.
“Relax,” Athene cautioned once more, “You must let this come to pass.”
The power was building, coursing through me. It sparked inside every single nerve, bursting them one by one in tiny shocks of agony that stole my breath.
It felt like fire.
Like being burned alive.
A Hyraxian soldier approached the group gathered around Kent, merciless determination on his face as he lifted a hand and sent a pulse of unbridled power in their direction.
And as the magic in my own veins surged into indescribable torment, his erupted in a detonation that sent every person he targeted, including Iris, flying through the air.
I didn’t need to look for Iris to know what happened to her. Her soul passed through the Underworld as I exploded into millions of tiny shards of pure power.
Iwas everywhere.
And nowhere.
Weightless.
And grounded.
There was an odd sort of peace in it, a sense of utter completion. As if this is the way I had always been meant to exist.
I didn't belong shoved in a Mortal coil, trapped by the feelings, traumas, and struggles that were inevitable when dwelling in the Mortal Realm.
No, this was who I was in my purest form.
I was everywhere.
And nowhere.
Weightless.
And grounded.
I was power.
The awareness of my physical form came back agonizingly slow. I first felt my toes and wiggled them softly. Then I became aware of my fingers, wrists, and elbows. I felt my heart beating in my chest and my lungs growing and shrinking as I inhaled and exhaled.
When I finally found the strength to blink my eyes open, Athene was gone.
I stood alone in the Veil.
Home. It felt like home. It felt like me. The Veil and I were made of the same cosmic magic.
I didn’t fear that anymore.
I didn’t fear being a Goddess anymore.
This power had always been a part of me, even in my very first moments when I didn’t know who or what I was. It was not within my ability to wield magic—it was in the very fiber of my soul. With or without power, I was the Veil. The Veil was me.
And out of that blinding light emerged a shimmering mass of pure energy that swirled and pulsated until I stuck my hand into it without fear.
My fingers wrapped around leather, bound tightly against a stiff hilt.
I pulled the sword from that mass of magic, its blade glimmering and its hilt lined with the pearlescent Veilstones I would now recognize even in blindness.
Mine.