33. Chapter 33
Chapter 33
Viola
W e reached Colris at first light the next day, weary and dirty from our travels. Though the conversation was stifled throughout the journey, all five of us were in comfortable silence, processing what it really means to do whatever it takes to achieve a goal.
It is something I am intimately familiar with because I have crossed those lines and embraced the monster within thoroughly.
Colris is a mining community nestled within a mountain range, so Mace has no issue finding and carving us out a cave to rest in. While the others sleep, I grow increasingly restless. I do not feel tired at all. Being in stasis for over a day will do that to you, I guess.
I slip out of the cave and find a secluded spot to conjure a shadow vision, hoping I can get more information out of Himureal today.
I can't tell the others I have been meeting him, even though the secret itches under my skin to be spoken. I just don't think they'd understand. It's not dangerous, not really, and I need to know more about what has happened in the past and what my magic is truly capable of. I just have to remember that I can't mention that I have acquired the Sunfire's magic. I'm sure he suspects that is our mission, but I cannot confirm it to him. I do not want to force him to expedite whatever plan he is working on from within Ytopie.
I don't have to wait in my shadow vision long before a familiar voice reaches my ears from the corner of it. "Miss me already, daughter?"
Himureal steps towards me, hair wild down his back, clothed in a deep red robe. "Did I wake you?" I ask, motioning for him to sit across from me. This time, I had more confidence in the magic to get creative with my shadow vision. Though we are surrounded by the deep darkness of shadows, we can see clearly, and today, I have crafted chairs for each of us from the shadows.
"You're getting better at this," Himureal muses as he sinks into the chair I created for him. "And you were expecting me. Curious." With a wave of his hand, a wine glass appears. "But no, to answer your question, daughter, you did not wake me. I haven't slept yet."
"That makes two of us, then."
"I suppose you came seeking more answers?" he asks curiously before taking a pull of wine.
"You suppose correctly."
He narrows his eyes at me. "You're different." Momentary shock ripples through me at how quickly he noticed. I school my face in indifference. "What happened to you?"
With a shrug, I conjure Shadow to join me on my lap, stroking his head slowly. "Nothing happened to me. I have just decided to begrudgingly accept that you aren't going anywhere. I figure if I'm stuck with you, I may as well take advantage of it."
He gasps, ice-blue eyes wide, placing his hand on his chest. "You wish to take advantage of me, Shadowweaver?"
"Gods, you're insufferable," I say, rolling my eyes.
He chortles and shrugs. "I was in a void for centuries. What can you expect?" He reaches towards Shadow, who swats him with his tail.
I roll my lips inward to stifle a chuckle. "When will you learn? The snake wants nothing to do with you."
He sits back. "I just wanted to see if he has begrudgingly accepted me, too. It appears not." He pulls his hair over one shoulder and crosses an ankle over his knee. "Well then, you want information. The same deal stands. You give to get."
"Childhood?" I ask, sinking deeper into my chair.
"It is of no difference to me. I just want to know about you," he says softly. That admission gives me pause, and I examine his face for any signs of deceit, but I don't find any. This God confuses me at every turn. He desires to know me as an actual father would and approaches me almost gently, yet he seeks to keep his siblings locked away for centuries while he rules over a world he knows he can't sustain on his own.
It's baffling and sends me into a tailspin about whether we are making the right decision to take him out and have me replace him. Maybe he and I can rule with the other three, and I can be his counter. Or am I just so desperate for a father figure that I am willing to make excuses for him, to hide his true nature from my soul?
What would it be like to stand by his side? Would it truly be so terrible? Granted, my limited interactions with him haven't fully revealed the things I know he's hiding, but no one is solely a monster. Maybe there is something redeemable within him.
"Shadowweaver?" he says, jarring me from the spiral within my head. "Your thoughts were awfully loud again."
"What, can you read minds?"
"Is that your question?" he asks with a sly grin.
With a groan, I pull my legs up into the chair with me, crossing them beneath me. "Okay, a story about me. Do you know about Max?"
He nods. "I have been informed about her by Zeph."
I pause, my jaw dropping down. "You've been speaking to Zeph?"
"Of course. The man is a wealth of information. In fact, he's been so helpful that he is now my high priest."
My feet hit the floor. "He has the draw?"
He gives me a cheeky grin. "I see you've been doing some research. But the draw is not required, so no. We have a mutual understanding. I needed his help, and he was happy to give it to me. Since you're so reticent to allow me to learn about you, I got what I need from him. He told me what happened to your friend. I am sorry my magic caused her death. I know she was important to you." I gulp, the unexpected apology creating a lump in my throat. There is so much sincerity in his words, but the effect of it is lost almost instantly. "But that is why you need to be here with me, Shadowweaver. I can prevent things like that from happening again."
I retreat deeper into my chair, scowling at him. "You would turn my friend's death into a recruitment tool? Just for that, you don't get a Max story today."
He rolls his eyes at me as if I am actually his child that is defying him. "Fine, tell me about Max next time. As long as you tell me something, you will get your answer."
I rack my brain for something worthwhile to tell him, but it is frustratingly blank. We sit in silence as he sips his wine, unblinking in his patience. Eventually, a story comes to mind.
"This may be considered cheating, but I could tell you about the tales my mother and the other children would tell me about you as I grew up."
His face cracks into a wide smile, and he rests his chin on his fist. "You knew about me as a child? Tell me more."
It is no surprise that a God like Himureal would like a story about himself. "Not just me. Everyone." My mind wanders to the well-worn book on the Gods on the shelf of my home. "I'll start with the written word, shall I?" He nods his agreement. "I had a book on all the Gods. My parents would make me study it, preparing me for when I was to arrive in Ytopie. They were convinced we'd meet you all once we arrived, and they wanted me to be prepared."
"You all really had no idea, then, about the banishing, did you? "
"None. The things that were done under what we thought was your instruction…" I trail off, shaking my head. "Anyways, I poured over that book, and my mom always warned me against your pages. She told me I needed to know them all but that you were dangerous and to avoid you at all costs." I don't tell him how I was drawn to them or how I poured over them. If I inflated his ego anymore, he'd float away.
He scoffs, flicking his thick curtain of hair, like a blanket of snow, behind him. "I am not some terrifying monster…monster."
His stutter surprises me, but it doesn't stop a laugh from bubbling out of me. "I'm still not convinced of that," I say with only a hint of sarcasm. "The entry describes an angry God who would steal your blood and use it to curse you. That even speaking to you would open you up to a curse and end your life."
He wrinkles his brow, and for a moment, there is a flicker of sadness. "Who wrote this book?" he asks quietly.
"No idea, truly. But that's not all. It went on to detail your magic and how Shadow magic, in particular, was used to hide threats from people so you could catch them unaware and end their lives. It made you out to be a murderous God who would stop at nothing to destroy anyone who didn't kowtow to you."
He sits back, shoulders hunched. "This story is no fun, daughter." The undercurrent of sadness in his voice is shocking, and I'm momentarily startled. This is the God who roared at me in that garrison and wanted to essentially take me hostage, and he's getting upset over a probably accurate depiction of him in an old scholarly journal?
I push past my thoughts. "Just wait. That's what the texts said. But this story is about my mother. Well, all of the village mothers." He pinches the sides of his nose between his fingers as he waits for me to continue. Tension takes up residence on his shoulders. "You were the ultimate threat. The mothers of our village would tell their children that you were waiting around every corner. Did I forget to do my exercises? Well, I better do them because otherwise, Himureal may come and take my blood to use for nefarious purposes. Get in trouble for fighting at school? Himureal will curse your fists to where you die if you hit someone else again."
His expression transforms into one of amusement now as the threats within my story become increasingly ridiculous. "Got caught out past curfew? Well, now you're a shadow, cursed to never see the light again. Did you forget to close the door and let a draft in? That's Himureal coming to get you and freeze you solid."
Now he's laughing, head thrown back in mirth. The sound is surprising, and I cannot stop myself from joining in. It takes him a minute to regain his composure. "Is this really how I was spoken of?"
"Really. You were the monster intended to haunt our dreams, to keep us in line for our parents."
His wine glass is now empty, and he sends it away on a torrent of shadows, opting not to replace it. "Do I live up to your fears? "
"That's the thing," I say with a small smile, "you were not the God who haunted my nightmares. Not once."
My words give him pause, and he locks me in a stare. "If not me, then who?"
"Avidor."
He sputters and coughs, hitting his chest with his fist. "I'm sorry, but I thought for a moment you said my little brother, with only a wisp of offensive magic, haunted your dreams?"
"I, sure enough, did say that." I throw my legs over the arm of my chair and tilt my head up to the shadowed top of my vision. "You see, your magic never scared me because it felt logical. Of course, you could conceal things in shadows because, good or bad, that's what shadows do. Obviously, you could freeze someone – you're the God of Winter. But Avidor made no sense to me. Still doesn't."
"Enlighten me," he says, with his head cocked to the side.
"Thinking of what the season of Autumn is like, Decay and Prosperity make sense to me. Even Lightning and Storm magic. But Influence. Influence always hung there like a specter, haunting me."
"You're smart to distrust that one, I'll give you that."
It's hard to hide my smile at his praise, something I've never gotten much of. Did my father ever praise me? My memories are coming up blank. Mother said that praise would make me complacent.
"The idea that someone could convince me to do something I didn't want to, and I'd have no idea, was horrifying," I say quietly, my mind traveling back to darker memories. I tap my hands down my thighs, closing my eyes to push past that thought. "You can make anyone your weapon, make them do anything, and they'd never realize it wasn't their idea. Where does that kind of power fit in with Autumn? How is Influence related to that season?"
"It's the Core. Autumn has Earth and Prestige. Influence is part of Prestige." His voice is shaky with restraint. What he's restraining, I'm not sure. "Did you know Avidor would preside over human elections? He was the mediator for disputes. As the most… agreeable season, Autumn magic was always the one looked to for matters of the head. Solarius was the warrior, I was the reaper…reaper, Amaryn the nurturer, and Avidor the temperate."
I sit back, shocked at the information he's so willing to provide me without me reciprocating. Just as the last time, there is a twinge of sadness when he speaks of his siblings. I can recognize the grief of a family lost to you acutely. He rubs absently at his chest.
"I was made fun of for fearing him," I say quietly. "When all the others were scared to even say your name, I spent my nights tossing and turning, wondering if there would ever be a moment when I woke up and realized all the choices I made up until that point were not mine but his." I shake my head, laughing at the memory of the very real fear I used to experience. "And look at me now, entwined with an Autumn Seasonale whose presiding magic is Influence." My laugh is hollow when it escapes my lips.
"Ah yes, the Autumn. Mace, right?" he asks.
"Yeah, Mace." Just his name spins my head for a loop. I know he's furious at me right now. He quietly stewed the entire journey to Colris, but I can't bring myself to regret what I did.
"You're too strong to be Influenced, as I'm sure you've realized by now."
I can't bring myself to look at him, surprisingly ashamed after revealing that fear. "You're right. I can block it. Not immediately, but I can feel it and then block it out."
He nods slowly, eyes appraising me. "Still, an interesting choice for you in a partner."
"Partner may be a strong word." I fling my legs to the floor and face him head-on. "Now, I've told you plenty. Time for my question."
"I have told you more than enough for that tale, daughter." His voice is clipped and irritated.
"No, you do not get off that easily. You offered that information, which does not fulfill our agreement's terms. It was a question for a story; that was the deal."
Himureal crosses his arms across his chest and laughs. "You're clever, I'll give you that. Telling a story that I would have no choice but to correct to get additional information out of me was brilliant. Fine, ask your question, Shadowweaver, but don't expect me to let you get away with this again."
All the questions I want to know spin across my mind, but I can't pluck one out as more important than the others. And I remember how Himureal spoke in code about Frost last time, which makes me more hesitant about what question to ask.
Eventually, when I notice he looks bored and impatient, I spit out, "What are the Core magics of Summer?"
The smile that rips across his face tells me I either asked exactly the right question or the wrong one. "Interesting choice of a question. Since you already know Winter and Autumn, of course, you'd want to know more about Summer. Summer's cores are Heat and Light."
"This feels like a wasted question. It's basically the exact opposite of Winter."
He laughs heartily, standing up from his chair. "You're right. Heat is what you'd expect – fire and temperature manipulation."
My face scrunches up. "I didn't know Summer can manipulate temperatures."
"You may not have seen it, but they can and do make cold days warmer," he says with a shrug. "Light is just that, light magic and protection."
"Seems like Summer doesn't have as much going on as the others," I say curiously, tilting my head to the side. "Why is that?"
"You wish me to tell you why my siblings are not all of equal strength? Are all humans or all fae of equal strength?"
"Well, no…"
"Then why would all Gods be?" He pushes past me, his body fading into shadows .
"Wait, tell me one more thing."
"Make it quick, daughter." His voice surrounds me, his body already gone.
"What's the real reason you don't want them to come back?"
His laugh fills my vision. "That, my dear, is not a question you have earned the answer to."