Chapter 33 #2
It took me a few deep breaths to steady myself, but the roaring in my ears was eventually replaced by faint crackles of lava and exhales of smoke. I dug through the sounds for any indication of what was to come.
When Glawandin spoke beside me, I jumped.
For a blind Spirit, she moved effortlessly through the air.
“Thy sight is gone, oh, Chosen Child. But the difficulty shall be mild. To walk through life without the sense requires a skill just as dense. It is neither physical thing nor human being, but imperative instinct riling. You have not had it all the way, but it grows stronger in your bones each day.”
Her voice faded into the darkness, the last sentences echoing around us and drifting up to the volcano’s mouth.
Taking another deep breath, I channeled all of my remaining senses into solving her riddle.
I listened to the movement around me—the crackles and snaps and whoosh of the flowing lava.
The whisper of the Spirits stirring the air.
Pungent ash filled my nostrils, fire heated my skin, and the ground remained solid beneath my feet as I gathered her hints.
Glawandin’s words washed over me like a tidal wave.
Something neither physical nor human. An instinct that I had lacked but was growing within me. I turned my sightless gaze inward, exploring my own subconscious and heart. What had I struggled with?
Without my sight, my introspection felt omniscient, tunneling through my subconscious and seeing my actions and decisions as if from both the inside and the outside.
It took me only minutes to discover that hidden instinct that had weakened so drastically in the past two years, a hole opening in my being.
But the edges glowed a faint white light, stretching toward each other as I unintentionally nurtured this missing piece of myself, restoring it.
A piece I had recently acknowledged with Cypherion.
A devilish smile spread across my lips.
“It is trust. That is what I lack. I do not trust others. I assume responsibilities all on my own and do not ask for their help. I protect them all without believing they can do it on their own.” Speaking the words brought a swell of warmth to my body, like a beast I had been denying was unleashed.
Like warm honey flowed through my veins, comforting me and instilling a confidence I had lacked.
My vision returned with a flash, the space alarmingly bright after the darkness. Glawandin was gleeful, applauding me as she bobbed up and down in the air. “Wonderful, child! Truly wonderful. I warn you not to forget the words you have spoken.”
I promised her I would not and turned to Annellius. The final puzzle standing between me and the next phase of the Undertaking. Success was so close I could taste it—victory sweet as sparkling wine amid the ash and soot.
Annellius met my gaze, and his frame glowed brighter. “This one is different. You will not be guessing something within yourself, but something within me.”
I squared my shoulders at the challenge in his voice. “Understood.” I was an Alabath just as he. I could look inside of myself and find a piece of him to guide me toward the answer.
Annellius raised one hand. The golden band at his wrist sparkled.
“My veins danced with this hint of legend. It sparked within me since birth, a blessing and a curse. But I was greedy for the power. It overwhelmed me. It promised me the greatness of the First, but I did not understand its strength, rather tried to abuse it. Now, in my Spirit form, I carry the warning to future generations: beware the promises of greed.”
When he finished, his face drooped as if weighted with remorse, so much pain resting beneath his mask. Annellius’s riddle was not mere introspection. Whatever this warning was, he begged me to heed it.
What Annellius carried within him, whatever that power was, it was dangerous. A blessing and a curse. I looked at my wrist, but I knew that wasn’t the answer. The Spirit was not Cursed in the manner I was.
What fate had befallen this ancestor of mine that was so threatening, he was now condemned to float in the Spirit Volcano and communicate the risk to future warriors?
We had a power balance instilled across our continent—the Rapture made up of the leaders of every clan, responsible for ensuring a single person never grew too strong.
Yet, here was an Alabath, telling me the very opposite had happened, and it had been his personal downfall.
Whatever this threat may be, I begged it to spare those I cared about.
My eyes washed over his body again, desperate for any hint of his suffering. The subtle golden light that echoed around his floating body pulsed when our twin eyes met. His strong form and perfect features appeared sculpted by an Angel himself.
An Angel…
Veins dance with this hint of legend…blessing and a curse…greatness of the First…
It was rare. So rare. It was unlikely, but not impossible. I swallowed loudly, watching as that golden light around Annellius Alabath shimmered. The gold source he would not disclose…it had to be the answer.
I opened my mouth to speak before I could rethink the guess. “You have Angelblood.” It wasn’t a question. I knew I was right as the words tumbled from my tongue.
A dim sadness entered Annellius’s eyes. “I do,” he confirmed.
“And you’re an Alabath.”
He nodded.
“So, our bloodline has it? Our entire family?” I gasped at the realization of what flowed through my veins.
But Annellius quickly punctured that awe with a shake of his head. “No. At my failure, the Angels removed their blood from our bloodline. Traces of it remain, but it is not pure. It makes us powerful, but it is not nourished as it once was.” He hung his head. “I am sorry.”
My shoulders slumped slightly, but I shook off the disappointment. I did not need Angelblood. I had gotten this far without it. If the substance tainted Annellius beyond repair, then it was a blessing that I did not have Angelblood.
“But I am right?” I pushed. “I have solved every puzzle. Forgiveness, trust, Angelblood.” I pointed to each Spirit in turn. “I may pass?”
They nodded in unison. “Yes, you may,” Annellius began. “But we have one more message.” He swelled before me, appearing much larger than he had a moment ago.
I shriveled in his shadow, cold washing through me.
“Take caution, Ophelia. Should you survive the next phase of the Undertaking, your journey is not over. You have much more to face, and your future will not be pleasant. Your blood is strong enough to cause and end wars. But you do not need to face that blood-ridden future. You have another option. You may stay here, with the Spirits. You may remain, Blessed. Your soul…we sense something within it. We extend this offer to you.”
My heart skipped a beat with every sentence he spoke, each more ominous than the last. I knew the Alabath line was strong, but to say I could cause and end wars seemed a drastic claim to me.
I looked at the Curse on my wrist. Warfare and blood painted gruesome images across the vision of the future I did not think I would ever have.
“You…want me to stay?”
He nodded slowly.
For a brief moment, I pictured my life within the Spirit Volcano.
The painful death that awaited me when the Curse grasped my life would no longer be a threat.
I would remain in this sacred dwelling participating in the legends of our people, without any more agony to plague my life.
Surrounded by the warmth of the fires twin to my own heat, assisting future warriors on their own Undertakings—
But there would not be any more Undertakings unless I proved I could survive this one.
Staying in the volcano and relinquishing my future would rip that chance from every Mystique. It may be the easier choice, to escape the pain the outside world caused me and the certain death that awaited me, but running from reality was not an option.
And I did not want it to be.
I may have an arduous end in the near future, but perhaps if I could have a few more moments of bliss before then and heal something for those who came after me, the suffering would be worth it.
I looked at each Spirit in turn. “Thank you. Truly, I am honored to have received the offer. But I have unfinished business in the outside world.”
“As we thought,” Annellius responded. Though he sounded unsurprised, a shadow of sadness crossed his face.
“May I ask one more question?” My heart pounded, needing them to say yes.
Annellius nodded.
“Can you tell me where Malakai is?”
I held my breath. My every hope hung on this one moment—on them being able to tell me where to find the man I loved. Annellius’s pink eyes misted as he searched for an answer.
“We cannot.”
My heart sank. I wanted to fall to my knees and beg, but I saw the resolve in his hard Alabath stare and knew there was no hope of convincing the Spirit to change his mind.
“Well, girl, get on your way,” Hectatios said, not unkindly.
Glawandin glided over to the pool of blue fire and spread her arms wide, her melodic voice carrying throughout the volcano, “I believe you know where to go next.” She pointed to the Spirit Fire.
I moved to her side on shaking legs and looked into the glowing depths below.
One more step, and this would be over. One more phase to endure and I would ascend.
A fall through this white-hot heart of the volcano was all that stood between me and the dream I clung to so desperately that it nearly shattered me.
But this was the phase that broke the most warriors.
The one that would try my emotions, raise things I did not want to face.
The fire swirled below me, shades of blue melding into a white pit of the unknown.
Before I could reconsider, I dove in.