Chapter 48 The Rose at Hand and The Bloom of Doubt
THE ROSE AT HAND AND THE BLOOM OF DOUBT
“Beyond the cradle of the holy land, the threads of their fates are already woven. They must step into the unknown, for not all wars are fought with claws—some are won by finding the hearts still hidden in shadow.”
—Elder A?na, praying to the sacred stone
Noel
The roses bloom as they always have.
“Did your crystal stop pulsing because you’ve completed your mission, Father?
” I whisper, gazing at the vibrant petals surrounding the grave.
“I wanted to thank you for saving me in that carriage. I was so scared. Back then, I had no idea what horrors life could hold. And now, here I am, standing at the edge of war.”
I trace over the cold stone, over my mother’s carvings. “I will start this war, Father. I hope Mother is sitting beside you, listening. I hope you’re together, watching over me.” My fingers brush the edge of a nearby rose. “Can you watch over Theron too?”
The sound of flapping wings draws my attention upward. I follow the movement as a white dove lands on the gravestone. My stomach drops when I see my mother’s handkerchief wrapped around its leg. There’s something else tied to it.
“Where did you get that handkerchief, little one?”
The dove tilts its head to the side and makes a soft cooing sound.
“This handkerchief is very important to me. Please, give it back.”
The dove steps sideways along the gravestone, inching closer, then lifts its leg to reveal that the handkerchief is secured with a piece of folded paper. Is that a sign for me to take it?
“You’re trained, aren’t you?” I ask as I gently untie the knot. “Who tied this handkerchief to you?” I unfold the paper. My breath catches in my throat.
No. No, this can’t be.
Blinking hard, I shake my head. I must be imagining things. My vision blurs as my hands begin to tremble. Tears spill onto the paper, turning the inked dots a darker shade. It’s a page from my mother’s book, the one about the ritual called Chains of Blood.
I lift my gaze to the dove. It has moved to stand quietly beside the grave. Then it taps against the stone. My eyes follow its beak until I see the name. Eyleen.
“No,” I breathe, the word breaking in my throat. My whole body trembles. “Mother?”
I scan through the words on the page. “In the time of veiled suns and forgotten stars, when the blood of the ancients stirs once more, one shall be given, not taken, willingly offered upon the sacred tether.
“Only by the hand of her own heart shall the first be sealed.
“Only then may the second, born of her line and bearing the soul-mark, cross the threshold. And when both steps are fulfilled, the Chains of Blood shall shatter, and the path between realms shall be undone.”
A sacrifice . . . an ancient bloodline crossing paths . . .
I am the ancient bloodline. I am the blue rose. I am the daughter of the sacrifice. She gave herself so I could cross the threshold—the barrier.
“Mother!” I cry out, and the dove hops onto my thigh, cooing as if to soothe me.
“You followed me through every step of this path,” I whisper, my voice breaking as I lean closer to the dove. “You gave Theron a sign . . . you left me so I could fulfill my destiny!”
A sob shudders through me. My fingers curl around the edge of the gravestone as if I could anchor myself in her presence. “I read your diary, Mother,” I cry. “I know now. I know what you gave up.”
My chest heaves, the grief clawing its way up like fire through my ribs. “You didn’t deserve this,” I wail, and it echoes in the still air. “You were never meant to carry the weight of a prophecy. You were meant to be happy. You were meant to live!”
The dove watches me with quiet eyes, and I swear I see something in its gaze. Something familiar, something achingly familiar.
“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry you had to die so I could live.”
The dove hops closer, then nestles into the fabric of my gown. I clutch the handkerchief to my heart, now broken wide open.
I sit in this position, crumpled over my knees, for a very long time. My tears have dried and the little dove is long asleep. “Thank you for looking after me.” I take the dove in my palms, close my eyes, and lift it up, letting it fly free. I don’t want to see it. It hurts too much to say goodbye.
“Please go.”
Its wings brush against the air as it flies away.
I’m not sure if I feel relief or guilt, but I finally know what happened to her.
If anyone killed her, I wouldn’t have been able to cross the barrier.
So she did it herself. She marked the page before I came, and took her own life so I could thrive.
It hurts, but this was her decision. I should respect that.
“Your Majesty.” Zephyr’s voice pulls me from my one-sided conversation. I open my eyes and turn to see him and Kael standing nearby. Kael looks like he’s on the verge of tears.
A small smile creeps onto my face. “You remind me of Essin, Kael.”
They step closer, but as they reach the edge of the roses, they pause.
“You can approach,” I say, rising from the grave. “Come sit with me.”
Kael rushes forward and collapses to the ground in front of me. “I am so sorry!”
“For what?” Did they hear me crying?
“Yesterday when we were here,” he stammers, his eyes welling up. Is he really about to cry? “You thought I was against you!” His words spill out in a wail, and then he bursts into tears.
His sobs catch me off guard. Oh, goddesses. What . . . what am I supposed to do?
“Kael, you fool! Don’t upset her like this!” Zephyr growls, grabbing Kael by the mane and giving him a firm shake.
“There’s no need to apologize,” I say, forcing another smile. Do I smile? Do I pat him? Offer a blue rose? Scratch behind his ear like a pup?
“I swear I didn’t mean to doubt you, Your Majesty! It was just . . . the way you looked at me. I thought you were going to claw my ears off!”
“I’m not going to claw your ears off, Kael. But if you keep crying like that, I might drown in your tears before the war even begins.”
Puppy eyes are a real thing, and I’m staring at them right now. With a deep sigh, I raise my hands toward the sky. “Leaf spirits, my dears, please bring us water and leaves for Kael’s tears.”
The sound of light, tinkling laughter fills the air as the leaf spirits emerge from the trees, carrying a large leaf between them. Moments later, a few nymphí appear with bowls of water in their hands.
“Thank you,” I say, accepting a water bowl from one of the pretty nymphí. She bows before sitting beside me, the others following suit. The leaf spirits flutter over to lay the large leaf near Kael’s snout. The rest of us flinch as he blows his nose into it.
“Thank you,” Kael murmurs, wiping at his tears and nose with the edge of the leaf.
I nod in response, and Zephyr lifts his paw to his heart. “We will fight in this war for you, Your Majesty.”
“Yes!” Kael echoes.
I take a sip of water to ease my thirst before handing the empty bowl back to the nymphá. “You won’t,” I say firmly.
Both of them tilt their heads, their confusion written all over their snouts.
“I have a different mission for the two of you. And Aeson,” I add. “Where is he, by the way?”
Kael leans on his arm. “We were patrolling this side of the land. Aeson is stationed in the west area with his patrol partner.”
The trials have been canceled for now. We have only one day left until the bonding ritual, and that day is critical.
With Gregor here, anything could happen.
Theron has already assigned a larger-scale patrol to prepare for whatever may come.
Before we question Gregor, we need to be ready for everything.
With the feast approaching, it’s the perfect chance for the vólkins to see Gregor in a different light.
Not as a threat, but as . . . Maybe a friend.
At least, that’s the goal. For now, the vólkins are busy hunting—some for the feast, others to feed the warriors on patrol.
Tonight, most of the patrolling warriors will eat in shifts, while the females, children, and a few warriors gather for the celebration.
“What’s the mission?” Zephyr asks.
I straighten my spine. “As the strongest warriors, you will scout the land. Since you could sense that I am the leader from the prophecy, you’ll also have the ability to identify the others. While we conquer lands and villages, your task will be to search for the other five women.”
“By ourselves?” Kael blurts out, his ears pinching back.
“Don’t be a pup,” Zephyr cuts in before I can respond.
“Yes, by yourself,” I confirm. “Aeson will be sent north, given his white fur and origins in that region. The two of you will be assigned to other areas. Don’t worry, we’ll discuss the specifics after the feast.”
This plan is our best option. Both Theron and Elder A?na agreed. Finding the other five is essential, and their discovery will mark the true beginning of what needs to be done. Once my awakening is complete, I’ll be ready to take the necessary actions. And to make this world a better place.
“It’s time to get ready, Ethereal Leader,” the nymphá beside me says, rising before offering her hand to help me up.
Turning to Kael and Zephyr, who still seem to be processing my words, I say, “Save your questions for after the feast. Go get ready, and we’ll meet there.”
The two of them rise to their paws before bowing.
More nymphí gather at my parents’ home as I prepare to get ready there. It feels comforting, like a small connection to my past. If I can’t return to my mother’s home, having this option is a blessing.
“When you’re not with me, where do you go?” I ask the nymphá brushing my hair.
“Some of us are always watching from afar, Ethereal Leader.”
“Others tend to nature,” another nymphá says, resting her chin on my thigh. “We help animals in need, play with the leaves, and make sure Mother Nature doesn’t suffer.”
“If you’re busy doing all that, who takes over your duties?” I ask, tucking a lock of her brown hair behind her ear.