Chapter 36
Elorie
The sun peeks through the clouds on the morning of the blessing. But there’s no warmth to it. No peace.
I brush my fingers over a small pile of snow collecting on the bricks. Tempest snow would never form a snow animal like the ones the children in the village would build in the square. It’s too soft and flaky.
It falls from my fingertips as gently as it fell from the sky this morning. I brush it off my hands, but my fingers aren’t wet, just cold like the rest of me.
My dress for the blessing flutters and shimmers with shades of midnight blues and grays. It ties around my neck, covering my front but revealing my back. A spiked, silver spine of gems connects the tie at my throat to just above my backside.
A kiss of the breeze makes my nipples peak beneath the smooth, silky fabric. Goose bumps prickle my skin.
The atrium is empty while I wait to be called into the blessing room. I’m surrounded by white stone with doors lining every wall. But I keep my eyes to the sky.
To the crystal-blue morning.
A small fire crackles in a hearth at the center of the atrium, but it does little to warm the space. Closing my eyes, I let the faint cracks and pops of embers settle my nerves.
How many fires did I stare into sitting beside Father? How could I have known we reached our last one?
A door creaks, and I glance at Wilder walking toward me.
The king is already in the blessing room meeting with Lady Reah before we get started, but no one else is here.
Thankfully, this isn’t a spectacle like everything else seems to be, so there’s no one to witness if I don’t survive the day.
While the blessing is a fraction of the intensity of the Rite, there’s still a chance my human heart won’t withstand it.
Wilder’s strides are long. His hands relaxed at his side.
He has the presence of a king, when sometimes I forget that he is one.
His dark shirt is loose where the strings aren’t tied at the top, breezing open with his steps to reveal rune markings and solid muscle. His sleeves are rolled up, showing off the veins in his forearms, and his dark pants hug his thighs perfectly.
In nature, the most beautiful things are the deadliest. Wilder is proof of that.
His golden eyes take me in at his approach, but unlike the guards who gawked and whispered, his expression remains passive when his gaze meets mine. I’m sure he’s bedded such gorgeous females that even in my most beautiful gown, I’m unimpressive to him.
Human to him.
“You’re going to pick your fingernail off.” He glances at my hands, where I’m twisting my fingers around each other and digging at the corner of my nail while I wait.
I brush my long hair back off my shoulders, moving from one form of fidgeting to another. “You actually arrived on time. No grand entrance like the night of the promise?”
Wilder smirks, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against a pillar. “Wouldn’t want to keep you waiting, Elorie Vale.”
The way he says my entire name makes my skin feel too tight.
“What is going to happen when I go in there?” I ask, pacing to the hearth and watching the fire.
The heat of it pales in comparison to Wilder’s magic, now radiating through the atrium, stripping the chill from my bones.
“You’ll face the mirror of Echme.”
My eyebrows pinch. “What is that?”
“I thought you spent all of your time reading.” He walks over, stopping at my side.
“You know far too much about me for someone who pretends not to care about anything.”
His golden eyes flare. “That’s where you’re wrong, Starfire. I care a great deal when it comes to you.”
Because of my magic.
Because he wants to destroy us.
I wrap my arms around my stomach and cling to those thoughts.
“The mirror of Echme isn’t actually a mirror at all. It’s a pool of holy water, blessed from the lightning fields.” Wilder tucks his hands into his pockets. “Before the Collision, it was believed the lightning storms on Echme’s beaches were blessings from the gods. Infusing magic into Lyrichia.”
“Do you think that’s true?”
He shrugs. “No one knows the intentions of the gods. They only pretend to.”
“That’s a bold statement in a temple.”
“Even Lady Reah will tell you the same.” He looks at me, and I don’t break his stare, even when the intensity is all too much. “The mirror of Echme is water from a unique pool. The lightning that struck it was not gold or white or silver as they usually are. It was blue.”
My fingers move to the tips of my hair, and Wilder’s gaze follows.
“Where the blue lightning struck, the water turned. It was no longer reflective, but an endless abyss that was said to see into the threads the Luminess wove. To step inside the mirror is to see your path, though it can just as easily drive you mad if your magic or your mind is not prepared for what the gods offer.”
“That’s why I might not survive the blessing?”
Wilder glances up at the fire, and his golden eyes dance with the reflection of the flames. “You’ll survive.”
“What makes you so certain? Have you seen a prophecy like the king has?”
“No. You just have too strong a will not to.”
Flames dance in his eyes; his magic stirs just beneath the surface.
I can’t look away from the shimmers of gold, pulling me in like a predator luring its prey.
The longer I stare at Wilder, I wonder if he’s like the mirror he speaks of.
Because what I’m meant to see at the surface isn’t what I find the longer I look into him.
A door creaks across the atrium, and Lady Reah steps out. She’s in a similar lace dress this morning to the one she wore yesterday, although there’s no robe covering her shoulders. A sparkling crystal diadem sits atop her head.
“It’s time.”
Wilder waits for me to walk ahead of him. Father always warned me not to turn my back on predators. But as dangerous as Wilder might be to my realm, I get this strange sense he wouldn’t hurt me.
King Malachi is dressed in all blue today, no gold. It’s simple in comparison to his usual wear, and there’s no crown atop his head.
He stands at the edge of a large pool, which is not nearly as deep as I expected. Ankle high at most.
King Malachi stares down at the water with such focus, I can’t help wondering what he’s thinking. When his gaze flits up to me, he smiles in approval. Goose bumps dot my skin for reasons that have nothing to do with a chill in the room or excitement.
Lady Reah circles to the opposite end of the pool, glancing down at the water, while I stand between the king and Wilder, whose arm brushes mine ever so slightly because I’ve moved closer to him.
“As you prepare to bind with the heart of a realm, you must look inside your own. Your magic will be reflected off the will of the gods to show you your path. What you see in that path is for you and you alone. The temple is not here to judge your fate, but to provide insight. It is here to offer its blessing.” Lady Reah looks up at me. “Are you ready?”
I nod, and Lady Reah stretches out her hands, waving us forward.
The water begins to stir like it did when she ran her finger around the rim of the small bowl in the temple yesterday. Small ripples web out from the center, reaching for us.
I look up at Wilder one final time before taking a step and find his eyes already on me.
“See you on the other side, Starfire.”
It’s strangely comforting, even if it’s probably meant to be a taunt. I take my first step, and the moment my toes dip into the mirror, everything around me turns black.
Wilder and the king are no longer at my sides. There is nothing but a void of light and space. It chirps like the forest at night. The presence of something hangs at a distance.
What is this?
“What are you?” a voice asks in return, but it’s not Wilder’s.
It’s something other.
As if the mirror is sentient, or maybe I’m simply talking to myself.
“I’m a human.”
“That is a lie.” A breeze tickles the back of my neck.
“I’m half-human. Half-Fae,” I clarify.
“Is that all you are?” The vibration of the voice ripples through me.
It is not from around; it is from within. And as I blink at the dark space, small threads of light begin to form and make an endless web.
“Fate is not such a grand thing unless it is played with. One thread can change everything.” At a distance, something snaps, and the entire weave of light collapses. “Why are you here?”
“To get your blessing?”
“You’re uncertain.”
My skin prickles as everything around me cools.
“I’m not uncertain.” My voice is firm this time. “I wish to perform the Rite and save my realm.”
“A realm you destroy.”
“I didn’t destroy anything.”
“Are you sure?” The web of light appears again, but this time, it’s fraying. Dying. “They would have been peaceful, but you could not leave well enough alone. You woke the heart. What should have been is not what is.”
I woke the heart?
Are the fates upset with me about Wilder?
“It was an accident.”
“There are no accidents in fate, even when it is broken. What a mess you’ve made, daughter of the stars.”
My heart tightens in my chest, as if a fist wraps around it and squeezes tight.
“Are you prepared to do what must be done to fix what you broke?” The fingers of the invisible force squeeze harder.
“Yes.”
Still, the grip doesn’t release me. It pulls me down, and I’m no longer in darkness; I’m bathed in white light.
A violent wave flips me around, and I’m floating.
Threads tug at my fingers. My toes. They pull me in every direction while the edges of the light melt with darkness.
My mind floods with shadows and nightmares.
Father’s hand reaching.
Letia screaming at the top of her lungs.
The fire-lit faces in the cave, circling around me.
The sword going through Wilder’s heart.
A hand appears, but it is not made of flesh and bone. It is magic. Flecks of gold remind me of the embers that spit from a fire. Its fingers reach for me, wrapping around every limb, thrusting me to my feet. I nearly fall, but I catch myself on Wilder’s bare chest.
His runes glow. His scar is a river of gold.
The space is dark again.
Empty.
But his eyes…
There’s so much brewing inside them that I’m not alone.
His magic weaves up my back and around my neck. It dances through my hair and lifts my chin. My skin tickles with his touch—his nearness.
My eyes flutter closed as his breath twines with mine. His lips so close I feel the static of a kiss before the winds pull us apart, and I plummet.
Screams and blood and death drip from my fingers. They burn at my touch. I can still feel Wilder’s hands lingering on my skin as fate weaves me into a new web. It paints me a picture of death and pain.
A fate of Alyssium turning to dust.
With a final gasp, I take another step, and I’m out of the mirror. My eyes blink open to the temple, and I return to myself. Wilder and the king are still beside me, having traveled out the other side.
I survived the blessing. I made it through.
So why did it not feel like a blessing at all?
Wilder’s arm brushes mine, and our eyes meet. I don’t know what he saw, but I’ll never forget my vision. Accepting him was the end of the realm. It was destruction. Even if his touch woke my heart.
Just like mine woke his.