32. Chapter 32
Chapter 32
Viola
T he worn journal on the table before me taunts me.
This fucking riddle is going to be the death of me.
"Alright, read it to me again," Zeph says, his back to me as he stares at a blank stone wall.
" ' To bring back what is lost, you must seek protection under the spirit of a warrior, and the light of the flame will reveal what is missing.' " I recite, barely even having to glance at the page before me. I've said it so many times now, read this journal so frequently that it is playing in my brain and seared on the back of my eyelids.
"Protection has to be Shield magic, and the light of a flame is Fire magic," Tulip says unhelpfully.
"Yeah, that much is clear," Mace says in a short, clipped tone. I shoot him a look, and he speaks again, this time with a bit more decorum. "My concern is how to implement those to bring Solarius back.
Morrow is pacing, Plume's head following him as he moves. He's been erratic this whole time, feeling guilty for not being able to decipher the riddle of his God. "Didn't Himureal call Solarius the warrior God? "
"Something like that," I say, sucking my teeth as I close the journal in front of me. I grab an apple from the bowl on the table and bite into it, the crunch of it loud in the small room.
Morrow continues as if he didn't hear me. "Because if that's the case, if Solarius is the warrior God, then the spirit of a warrior would have to be someone with his magic, right?"
"But humans didn't wield magic back then," Tulip says, snagging the apple from my hand and taking a bite herself. She speaks through a full mouth. "Most of the stuff Lola did for the Autumn ritual could've been figured out by someone without magic. But this seems very specific."
"Avidor said they knew their magic would go to humans," I say, rubbing my eyes. "I nearly forgot that. They had intended to take the magic from the humans when they were brought back."
"Okay, so then, realistically, you need a Summer to cast a shield on you," Morrow says, stopping his pacing and crossing the room to me. "And it can't be Zeph because he's gotta do whatever a high priest does and can't do both things."
"Hey!" Zeph says, rolling his eyes. "I could manage both."
"No, he's right," Mace interjects, looking at his brother. "It's better to have you focused on Viola just in case she needs something."
I push to my feet, clapping Morrow on the shoulder. "Looks like we're going to do the ritual together, friend."
"You've forgotten the other part," Plume says quietly. "The flame part."
"Damn, you're right," I say, squeezing the bridge of my nose.
Plume stands in front of me, a smile stretched across her round face. "I think I know what we need to do."
I can't remember the last time I braided my hair so intricately. My arms have started to ache as I finish the fourth one before I plait all four strands together and wrap them tightly around my head so none of my white hair hangs down. My clothes are close fitting: a cropped black tank and a pair of shorts that fall to my mid-thigh. I argued for more clothing, but apparently, we need to minimize the chance of it providing extra fuel for a fire today.
Barefoot and strapped with just one blade, I head down to the amphitheater, where my friends wait for me. Morrow, dressed in all black, stands beside Zeph, who is wearing a green tunic that enhances his eyes and brown linen pants. Mace sits in the stands with Tulip and Plume, the latter of which anxiously bites her nails.
This was her idea, and Plume is going to feel awful if it injures me or doesn't work. But we all agreed this is the best interpretation we've come up with, and it's worth a try.
Avidor has been no help, refusing to intervene as we worked out the riddle and not wanting to participate in the ritual at all. He said that if we bring his brother back, they'll connect when they're ready. I find that odd. They've been separated for centuries. Shouldn't they be happy to see one another ?
Regardless, I stand in front of Morrow and take a deep breath. "You ready, Shadowweaver?" he asks in his low, smooth voice.
"As I'll ever be, Morrow."
He nods, gesturing to the center of the altar. We walk together, stop a few paces apart, and face each other. "Are you sure?" he asks softly.
"What choice do we have?"
"Fair enough. You start." I nod at his words and call forth Fire, encasing my body in flames.
The heat is not as intense as I thought it would be, but it is still not comfortable. As soon as it surrounds me, Morrow uses Shield magic to encase me in a bubble, and I push the Fire out, filling it entirely until I cannot see the others at all.
"It's not working," I shout from the the center of the flames.
I can't hear what is going on outside of the Shield bubble, but I do see glimpses of Zeph running towards us, and Fire magic blanketing the outside of the Shield, maybe even the magics blending together.
"Come on," I say to myself, wincing at the heat. It's not as if I am on Fire, but the consistent exposure feels like a sunburn. "Solarius, return to us."
Heat surrounds me everywhere, and yet nothing is happening.
Perhaps we got the riddle wrong?
But what else could it mean?
I tap into that Godly essence that helped me track down the last journal and try to tune into what it's telling me.
I know what I need to do.
My blade is hot to the touch as I pull it from its holster and drag it down my arm, just like I did when pulling Himureal back into this realm.
Blood drips onto the hot ground, sizzling loudly as it falls. The flames around me seem to grow in intensity, the red and orange colors morphing to a beautiful bright blue.
A loud boom and a bright light knock me on my ass, extinguishing the flames.
Morrow loses his grip on the Shield magic from his sprawled position on the ground.
Zeph cradles his head, and it appears he knocks it against the pedestal we had been using to rest the journal.
It takes me a moment to get my bearings, but when I do, I look up to see a giant figure towering over me. I scramble to my feet, ignoring the stinging pain of the self-inflicted cut on my arm.
He's massive, easily standing three or four heads taller than me and broader than Morrow in the shoulders. His skin is a rich, deep brown, his chest bare, and a sunfire brand rests over his sternum. He wears nothing but a wrap of white cloth around his hips that his secured with a golden pin that matches his brand.
Solarius, the Radiant Sunfire.
Radiant is certainly the word to describe the gorgeous God in front of me. Where Avidor can look somewhat boyish at times, Solarius has the body of a warrior.
He runs his massive hand through his golden hair, and the sun fractures as it reflects off of it. A multitude of colors are captured in those strands, every shade of the sunrise glistening as he turns his head, looking around the amphitheater before his golden eyes land on me. His cheekbones are sharp and high, his lips plush and thick, his nose broad and strong.
He's almost unbearably beautiful. A piece of art, rigid like a stone statue, standing before me with a flat affect.
"Shadowweaver," he says, his voice a deep purr. "You called for me?" No humor dances in his eyes. The Radiant Sunfire is stern in expression and posture, a striking contrast to his brother, the God of Winter, who always showed so much through his body.
"I did," I say, brushing dust off my clothing and patting my hair to ensure I didn't lose any of it. "We are righting previous wrongs and bringing you and your siblings back to Krillium."
"So I saw," he says lazily, sweeping his eyes over everyone before coming back to me. "I didn't think you'd manage it on the first try."
"It was Plume's idea," I say, pointing towards the Spring fae. She catches sight of the blood dripping from my arm and rockets to her feet. "She believed a warrior God would not return to someone who set something on fire that was not worth losing."
"To be a warrior is to be willing to sacrifice yourself at any moment," Solarius says with a nod. "Though, there was no real risk of you dying from it." He raises an eyebrow at my arm, watching the blood that runs down my fingers. "But I see you found a way to sacrifice."
"Smarts like a bitch," I say with a laugh.
"Indeed." His voice holds no humor, no warmth, as he speaks to me. We stand there silent and look at one another, his golden eyes digging into my own. It's not even that he is curious about me.
It's almost like he doesn't even consider me at all.
That I am inconsequential to him.
"Well, this has been fun, but I suppose I've got to go find if I have a high priest and reestablish myself," Solarius says, moving up the stairs.
"Wait!" I say, jogging after him. "We need your help."
"I know what you need."
"Then you know you cannot leave. We need all of you and myself to balance the land and get rid of Himureal. He's lost his ability to be the type of God this realm needs." Solarius turns and looks at me, his eyes narrowed.
"And you believe yourself to be what this realm needs?"
"Fuck if I know," I answer honestly. "I didn't choose this. I stumbled upon my portion of Himureal's powers, and then, in trying to figure out how to return the rest of you, I absorbed your powers, too." I pull the front of my shirt down, showing Solarius the twin to his sunfire. He raises an eyebrow and drags his finger over it, the warmth of his caress soaking into the brand. "But I do know I am what this realm has as an alternative to Himureal."
"I'm sure he's not that bad," Solarius says, waving his hand.
"Actually," Plume interrupts quietly. "He's getting worse."
"And how would you know?" the God says, swinging his gaze to her. To Plume's credit, she does not recoil or flinch at all.
"During the ritual, I received a message using Air from Ytopie." She looks from me to Zeph and then takes a deep breath, steeling herself. "Cirrha says Himureal has begun imprisoning those who refuse to bow to him. He's repeatedly using Blood magic to determine intentions and executes any who may have nefarious goals. She and Taegan have fled."
"What?" Zeph roars, rushing up to Plume. "Is she okay? Is Cirrha okay?"
"For now," Plume says, nodding. "I sent her a message about Rainworth, but I'm unsure if it will reach her in time for her to get here."
"Where are they? Where did she take Taegan?" Zeph is pulling his hair, the stress bleeding from him. Solarius is watching the situation with a bored expression on his beautiful face.
"She didn't say," Plume says gently, gathering Zeph's hands in her own. "But they got out, and we will meet up with them. They will be okay."
"He's escalating exponentially. I thought we had more time." Zeph turns to me, his eyes pleading. "Shadowweaver, please. I cannot lose anyone else." His voice cracks on the last words, and I know then that I will move mountains to save my high priest's friends.
It's the least I can do for the man who wholly and willingly gave up himself to be my priest .
"We will do whatever we can, high priest," I say, leaning forward and placing my forehead on his. I feel the power transfer between the two of us, but this time it is me Influencing some calm into him. "Plume," I say, not looking away from Zeph, "See if we can get them a message and find out where they are. I will travel with my shadows to get them."
"Let me Heal you first," she says, stepping forward and grabbing my arm. The warmth of her magic wraps over me, and the split skin knits together before my eyes, leaving only tracks of blood behind.
"Alright then," I say, clapping my hands together. "It's time for a rescue mission."
"Is that a good idea?" Mace says, pushing to his feet. "Himureal could find you in your shadow visions."
As if summoned by the mention of shadows, Shadow twists up my leg and hangs over my shoulders. Is he getting bigger? Can he do that? Zeph jumps back as shadow tastes the air, his tongue flicking on the high priest's cheeks. I stroke my hand down the iridescent black head of my familiar. After a moment, I turn back to Mace.
"I understand your concern. I do. But I do not think Himureal can hurt me in my visions. If I am quick, and he is not in his own vision or waiting for me, he won't even know I was there."
"I don't like this at all, Lola," Tulip says. I forgot she was here, and I turn to see her sitting next to Morrow, their thighs touching but their postures rigid, ignoring the contact. "What if we lose you again?"
It's habit to try to run my hands through my hair, but I can't with today's style, so instead, I scratch the back of my neck. "What else would you have me do, Tulip? Leave them behind?"
"No, I just mean-"
"Cirrha helped get Viola out," Zeph interrupts. "I couldn't have gotten her to you without Cirrha's magic."
"He's right," I say. "There's no other option. This is the only way we can help them." My tone is firm, stopping all room for argument. "It is not ideal. It is probably not even smart. But I will not have their blood on my hands when I know I have a chance at saving them."
Plume whispers into her hand, and I hear the soft buzz of Air magic carrying the message away in the hopes of being heard by the right person. I turn to Solarius, to tell him that this is why we need his help, and find he is not there.