31. Kyzen
Kyzen
Beyond the barrier feels different.
Time feels…not slower, but more patient. Like the realm itself remembers how to breathe here.
Maybe it’s because the taint of the realm hasn’t reached this place yet. Or maybe it’s because the people who live here stopped measuring their lives by urgency decades ago. I’m not sure, but it’s peaceful.
I’ve honestly enjoyed the hours we spent wandering the yard, staring over the ridge, and sitting in the chairs Val conveniently set out. I knew the second Thayla slipped through the front door we’d be here a while. She deserves far more time than she’ll get.
There’s been no need to fill the silence, but Val’s taken every opportunity to tell us something. Not explanations or excuses.
Just…stories about Thayla, her mom, and their lives before it all changed.
Apparently, as a child, Thayla ended up covered from head to toe in dirt every time she was set outside. It only took minutes.
She’d laugh so hard she’d hiccup, then get angry at the hiccups.
She loved bedtime stories and always asked for one more so she didn’t have to go to sleep.
He shared all kinds of small things.
Memories only a parent gets to keep.
Each one was spoken with fondness and longing. He tried to hide his desperate desire to go inside and see the woman he loves, but the number of times he glanced at the door or the windows gave him away within minutes.
I’m sure more than anything he wanted to witness her and Thayla reunite.
I understand the decision he made, even if it’s hard to wrap my mind around. What’s easier to understand is that he, Thayla’s mom, her, us, and I’m sure countless others were put into situations where every choice felt like failure.
Derivius’s words feel truer than ever. It was a lose-lose situation.
A long breath escapes me as my brothers and I stand silently, staring across the view the sunrise provided us. Gold pours over the mountain peaks, creeping steadily downward until the horizon glows beneath us.
It’s a gorgeous sight.
The front doors swing open, crashing into the wall hard enough to draw every head.
Thayla bursts through the threshold with dried tear tracks on her cheeks and eyes still a touch swollen. They’re wide with wonder, though, and find the four of us instantly.
“My mother is the Messenger, and we have a Starwoven bond.”
Shock holds my brothers and me in our place. She bounces her gaze over each of us numerous times like we’re supposed to be reacting very differently right now.
My small smile fades as something deep within my chest pulls taut. It isn’t painful or anything like that, but it recognizes what she just said.
“A Starwoven bond,” I mutter.
“The Messenger,” Amick says.
We glance at one another.
“You probably need to explain a little better than that, Thayla girl,” Val says, stepping from around the side of the house with his hands in his pockets.
He graces her with a warm smile that she returns.
“Yeah, you’re probably right.”
She takes two steps toward us, and we meet her the rest of the way.
I reach her first and cup her cheeks as I stare into her eyes. My mouth parts, and my head shakes.
“I…” A sigh slips from me as I try hard to grasp the words circling my mind. “I feel like I’ve always known there was something deeper, something more between us, but I’ve never been able to put my finger on it. Is this it?”
“Yeah,” she mumbles, gripping my wrist as she gives me a tender, almost sad smile that I don’t understand. “My dad is right. I need to explain better than that. I have a lot to explain, actually.”
She laces our fingers together, then slides her hand into the crook of Creed’s elbow as she guides us back to where we were standing close to the edge of the ridge. She lowers herself down, and we each follow suit.
For a blissful moment, she stares out over the region protected by the barrier with a comforting smile lingering on her lips.
We don’t pressure her to talk right away.
The wind rolls over the ridge, carrying the scent of forest and flowers. She inhales deeply like the smell is familiar and comforting. Somehow, her silence feels…easy.
“I don’t even know where to start,” she admits with a quiet laugh.
“Start with what changed,” Amick says with patience he doesn’t really have. He’s feening to hear everything and more. “What did you walk out of that house knowing that you didn’t know walking in? Aside from the obvious.”
“The obvious as in her mom being the freaking Messenger?” Riven asks with a dumbfounded look on his face.
“That was a shocker,” she says, smirking. “Walking into the Eye of the Veil gave it away instantly, though.”
A disbelieving laugh bursts free from me.
“You mean to tell me, behind us, in that house, is the Eye of the Veil?” I ask.
“It sure is.”
That smile stays on her face as she describes the glass room that makes you feel like you’re standing in the sky. She explains every detail with so much animation that my heart warms. I honestly hope one day we get to see it.
That feels a little invasive, but I can’t lie and say I’m not utterly fascinated.
Slowly, worrisomely, that loving smile dims, and I squeeze her fingers.
“What?”
“She lied about the prophecy. To nearly everyone. All to protect me.”
We listen to every word that leaves her, and the more she speaks the more I understand.
For two hundred and twenty-five years, a desperate mother-to-be took the truth, carefully carved pieces away, and handed the gods something believable enough to satisfy them. To push them into action.
The fake prophecy wasn’t meant to deceive forever.
It was meant to buy time.
Time for a little girl carrying seven ties to be born and grow into a woman capable of surviving them. Time for four boys to decide the ultimate obliteration isn’t what they wanted out of life.
Had the realm known from the beginning that the prophecy spoke of someone bound to all seven powers…Thayla never would’ve reached adulthood. She surely wouldn’t have made it past the Veiling Day.
She wouldn’t have survived long enough to meet us.
The thought alone turns my stomach.
“Your mother is a genius,” Amick says, and she smirks over at him.
“Just because the prophecy was told to her over two centuries ago doesn’t mean she had that long to prepare.
She had to think and act quickly. The amount of planning that took in a short span of time is no small feat.
Her telling Sabe the correct prophecy was brilliant. ”
“Gods, I didn’t think so at first.” She laughs, shaking her head. “After she explained her reasoning, it made a lot more sense.”
“A lot of things make more sense,” I say low. “Tell us about the Starwoven.”
Her entire expression softens as her gaze scans the four of us.
“It’s…” She laughs once. “Gods, it’s beautiful.”
The awe in her voice seeps into my heart and soul. The way she looks at us with such devotion knocks the air out of me for a moment.
“The stars are the marks our souls leave behind on their way down here to our bodies.”
She glances toward the sky. I find myself doing the same even though the morning light has long since swallowed them from view.
My breathing grows uneven as she explains how her mom was able to shift the stars and show her the marks our souls left behind. All together in a formation around hers.
Creed, Amick, Riven, and I all share a look with one another.
We are always going to be together.
It was always going to be the five of us.
I wouldn’t have it any other way. I cherish the fact that my soul knew that truth first before I even developed conscious thought.
I’m shocked we have a soul family. I truly do wonder if their souls knew what they were getting into when they decided to shoot through the sky beside us.
“Neither the Valories nor the Gods Binding truly pick the Valtrues. That’s why we’ve never been able to figure out how it picks proper Pairings,” Amick says.
Maybe to himself, maybe to us. “I also think the reason we get marks is because the gods have used the practice for so long that the Gods Binding adapted it into its system. The only flaw is that there are Starwoven across the realm and ungodly beings can’t be marked.
The gods who are having babies with ungodly beings…
that’s their Starwoven and that bond obviously protects against the dangers we’ve always been taught. ”
“Holy shit,” Thayla breathes. “But what about people like Lambrit and Rose who are Starwoven? They don’t get marks because there aren’t five of them?”
“Possibly. The system has always been rigged for five beings. Who’s to say they won’t get a mark one day when the Gods Binding is back, right?”
We sit here, pondering his question. It’s clear he wasn’t really expecting an answer, but it definitely has us thinking.
“So anywhos,” Riven cheers, clapping his hands and breaking the silence as he gives Thayla a flirty smirk. “Your sweet little soul was mine long before ol’ Big DD split it and gave it to me. Told you it belonged to me.”
I chuckle alongside him until I notice how Thayla’s face has fallen.
“Hey,” I say, tilting her chin toward me. “What’s wrong?”
Her lip trembles and even running my thumb across it doesn’t stop it.
“Thayla…” I mumble.
“We’ll never feel it,” she whispers. “We’ll never feel the extent of our bond like Yemi and her men, Lambrit and Rose, Mara and hers.”
“What?” My eyebrows scrunch together. “Why not? What do we have to do to feel it?”
“Is it because Derivius split your soul?” Creed asks.
“No. It’s because of him we get to experience what we do.”
A lone tear slides down her chin, and she wipes it away just as fast as it came.
“Remember what I told you all about that night in his temple when he was drunk, and he said he’d be the bearer of bad news one day and tell you how you all were truly conceived?”
We each hum. Kind of hard to forget that.
“Well, I know now why he really didn’t want to be the one to tell all of you. My mom shared the story of your conception.”
The warmth from only moments ago drains from the ridge. It leaves as quickly as the color from Thayla’s face.