Chapter 75
“What did you do?!” Obscuros cried, wrapping his massive cloak around his wife. “What did you do?”
“My love! Listen to me,” Araes said, throwing his hands up. The chains rattled against him.
Something snapped in her chest. A tether, long forgotten and faded away, kindled back to life. It amplified a heartbeat not her own. Araes’s rapid pulse boomed in her ears, stifling the sound of her own entirely. She faltered.
Another heartbeat, quiet and fast, played its melody. The two intertwined to form a symphony of light and love and peace. Tethys dropped the sword. It clattered to the floor.
She wasn’t a beast or a demon or a monster.
She was a mother, a lover, bonded by an infinite promise. Her flesh wasn’t of shadow, nor were her bones carved from stardust.
Tethys’s feet hit the floor.
“What…what happened? Aryx? Where is Aryx,” she cried, her head pounding. The magic settled back into her skin, wriggling and whirling through her veins.
“He’s safe, sister,” Polaris called, returning from the alcove. “He’s safe.”
Relief washed through her like the flooding tide. Her son was safe.
“Bind her!” Obscuros commanded. Crucis, from behind her, leapt for Tethys then. The wolf’s flashing canines sunk into her skin and she fell to her knees. Her father’s shadows wrung themselves around her once more, grasping her wrists and ankles.
Tethys’s vision clarified long enough to take in the bloody death that stained the courtroom floor. The pristine white walls, now speckled with blood, shivered as she looked upon them. Her court and the mortal nobility all lay dead, their limbs tangled and bent in unnatural directions.
“I did this?” she breathed. “I killed them?” Tethys, still shock-stricken, couldn’t feel the shadows wriggle and writhe up her body. They encased her in misty darkness.
“Bring me my child, Obscuros,” she hissed.
“Enough!” Obscuros’s voice was a crack of thunder on her pounding head. “Not until you hear me.” The primordial stepped from the dais, wiping the sweat from his brow. “How do you know of Vorthal and your lineage?”
Tethys stayed silent, still taking in the silent carnage. Guilt pressed in on her chest, forcing the breath from her lungs.
“Ok, daughter. I’ll try again. When did you cross into the Rift?” he asked. The primordial knelt beside her, his nose mere inches from hers. “If you want to see your son again, you will speak.”
She flinched at his bark, but still didn’t speak. Images flashed through her mind…the death, the chaos, the theft of innocent, mortal life.
“Keeper Obscuros, if I may…” a crackling voice chimed in, and Euda appeared from the corridor behind the throne. Tethys’s heart stopped as the ancient woman knelt beside her.
“Tethys, there is a reason your mother asked me to keep our histories from you, to keep them from the realm,” Euda said, pushing her spectacles up her nose. Tethys glanced at Phosphora, praying she’d return to this world, but the primordial’s eyes were glazed in milky vacancy.
“Euda…” Obscuros protested, but the copyist raised a palm to silence him. Maybe in another life, Tethys might find her command amusing. This all-powerful primordial, silenced by an aging mortal no more than five feet tall.
“It’s time we tell her, Keeper Obscuros.”
The primordial swallowed his words then, and let Euda continue.
“When you first arrived in this realm, Phosphora had a vision…one she described to me in a moment of clarity. The realms burned and chaos reigned. It wasn’t Vorthal that led the massacre, my queen.
It was you. Phosphora spoke, albeit in riddles, of your connection to the Rift. Your fate beside Vorthal.”
Tethys’s stomach lurched. Memories of the vision Vorthal planted in her mind flooded in. The bloodied marble throne, with two rulers overlooking a scorched continent infected by hatred and death.
“We decided then that we could never tell you the truth of your lineage. Nor of your connection to the Keeper of Chaos,” Euda said, watching Tethys carefully.
“For the sake of the realms, you needed to remain without your magic. We don’t know exactly why or how he channels through you, but we feared he might use you to return. ”
Tethys was quiet, unable to comprehend Euda’s words. She felt Vorthal’s influence run rampant through her when her magic manifested, when she sliced through the realm…when she slaughtered her entire court, but Euda’s words were blades to her chest.
“It seems, perhaps, he already has,” Obscuros said, curling his fists. “When did you cross between worlds, Tethys?”
“Before Aryx’s birth,” she said, finally. “There were Venian children slipping through. Altair, Polaris, and I opened the gate and I searched the Rift to find them and bring them home.”
“You…opened the gate?” Obscuros’s eyes blazed.
“Yes, but we sealed it with Phosphora’s key. It remains sealed,” she said, her gaze darting from the primordial to Euda. The two shared a fearful glance.
“Tethys…” Obscuros clenched his teeth. “Sealing the gate between worlds requires it to be held from both sides, not just ours. Why do you think Eos and Astraeus sacrificed themselves?”
Tethys drew in a breath, steadying herself against the stone wall. “You mean to tell me it’s still open? But I couldn’t feel the Rift once the doorway locked. Its essence faded.”
“Good gods…” Euda breathed, her hands trembling as she rose to her feet.
Tethys’s eyes caught on the shimmering curtain, reflecting the realm as if it were a mirror.
“The gate shows you only what you wish to see. You wished the doorway to seal, and so it showed you an altered truth.” Obscuros followed her gaze and approached the glimmering veil, skimming a pale hand through it.
It vibrated in response to his primordial power.
“Do you…” he breathed, kneeling by the golden blade, his cloak pooling at his knees. “Do you know what this is?”
Tethys sobbed, barely registering his remarks as she crawled to her lieutenant. She tugged on Araes’s chains, her newfound magic glowing on her fingertips. Vines sprouted from the mortar, fracturing the stone tiles as they crept up the chains and snapped their metal links.
“I have a son?” Araes whispered, honey eyes glistening with wonder and terror and heartbreak all at once.
“Yes, my love. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I—”
“This is Astraeus’s blade. You’ve…you’ve ripped the realm apart.
It doesn’t matter now if the gate’s sealed or not, Tethys.
” Obscuros’s booming voice stole the words from her lips.
Araes outstretched his arms, letting the goddess fall into an embrace.
Tethys unleashed her sobs then, letting his familiar scent cocoon her.
“Tethys, you’ve doomed us all,” Obscuros boomed again. A hush fell over her siblings as they circled them. Polaris, with Aryx now settled into her chest, knelt beside Araes. From her pocket, she produced a silver key and unlocked his shackles.
“Goddess…” Araes tucked a curl behind her ear. Tethys supposed he couldn’t find his words. Maybe they, too, were lost in the carnage.
“We must seal the Rift before Vorthal can escape,” he said. “Phosphora and I will hold the veil, but Vorthal’s power cannot be allowed to grow.”
“Father I—” Tethys started.
“You are no daughter of mine,” he growled. “I no longer recognize you as a daughter of this court. Look at the death…the destruction you’ve caused.”
“Please, I’ll do anything. Just spare Araes. Spare my son,” she whispered. Obscuros’s eyes darted from one to the other, from mortal to goddess.
“The Elythera protects him. Your soul intertwines with his. I cannot touch him. Nor will he age like a mortal.” Obscuros shook his head, bitter disgust thinning his lips. “He will die only when you do. Did you know that when you performed the rites? Your lifelines are now one.”
Araes blinked at Tethys, registering the primordial’s words himself. She laced her fingers through his and brought his hand to her lips. While she hadn’t truly known the full extent of their bond, she felt it, deep in her chest. They were together eternally.
She watched Araes through blurred tears and realized he hadn’t yet held their child, hadn’t met him or looked in his little golden eyes. Her heart shattered, but she stitched it together.
“Polaris…please. Give me the babe.” Tethys outstretched her arms. Polaris brought Aryx, now sleeping peacefully in her arms. Tethys settled him then placed her little light in Araes’s arms.
The lieutenant, with heartbreak and wonder, gazed at his son. Where Tethys expected confusion and caution in his eyes, there was only love—the kind understood by few, but cherished by all.
“This is your son. This is Aryx.”
Araes brushed his nose against the babe’s brow, breathing in his fresh little scent. “He’s perfect, Goddess.”
“Perhaps. But more importantly, he’s the best parts of both of us.” She smiled sadly.
“This realm will never know peace, so long as you’re in it,” Obscuros said, interrupting Tethys’s brief moment of peace. Her magic rippled through her body, sending a reminder of the carnage she’d caused…the destruction she’d created.
Tethys swallowed the grief, tightening her throat.
She wouldn’t allow her son to grow in a world birthed from chaos. Maybe Obscuros was right. So long as she was here, in Venia, on the continent, in this world, Aryx would never truly know peace. Obscuros smoothed back his hair and paced the courtroom.
“Our sole purpose in this world is to protect what we’ve created.
To defend our people against the creatures of chaos clawing at the gates.
But there are things you cannot understand.
The truth of what happened here today must be forgotten.
The realm will fall to chaos if they learn what lurks in the void.
” Obscuros collapsed into the throne, now split down its center.
“I cannot erase the bond between you and your mortal,” he spat, “but I can glamour it. Humans are a simple race. They find heroes in even the weakest of their kind, but not without villains. Tethys, you are their villain.
“This war between Canissa and Venia must end. The fighting between siblings must cease.” His stern eyes flashed from each immortal sibling, landing their blow on Tethys. Procyon, still nursing his burnt brow, grimaced as he rose to his feet.
Tethys’s chest was cold, too cold. She understood what Obscuros meant.
Humans craved someone to blame, and so he would frame her as their villain.
Let them fear her, hate her, blame her. They were safer to think her evil than the truth of what lurked in the shadows.
Her eyes scanned over the slaughtered court, and maybe, perhaps this fate is one she deserved.
She tucked into Araes embrace once more, begging the clock to stop, if only for a moment. Aryx cooed up at her, stirring softly from his slumber.
“Okay,” she whispered. “Please, just let them live.”
“For the sake of our world, the mortals must forget. After today, your people will remember you only as their enemy—their queen who slaughtered her court. Your son will grow to hate you. False memories of this day will root in his mind, and when he comes to adulthood, he will turn his back on you forever. Your lieutenant will remain by your side, but you will feel no love. The bond will be his shackles until the day you both perish.”
“What? Father you can’t do this,” Polaris cried.
“It’s okay, sister,” Tethys whispered, swallowing her heartbreak. For her son, for her people, for the continent, she would do this.
“Obscuros,” Phosphora’s milky eyes glowed. The fog lifted, revealing her familiar brilliant irises. “Enough.”
“My light, it is the only way. You know what’s at stake,” he replied, lacing his fingers through hers. “This is for the best. This is what’s right.”
Phosphora pursed her lips and lowered herself to the floor. Her bleached white curls spun down her face, shrouding her features in silken thread.
“My sweet girl,” she whispered, brushing a thumb along the curve of Tethys’s cheekbone. “You’ve come into your power.”
Tethys choked on her sobs and collapsed into Phosphora’s embrace. “I’m sorry. Please. Forgive me.”
“Dearest child, love is forgiveness. Just as it is sacrifice,” she said, placing a gentle kiss on Tethys’s brow.
Tethys took in a breath, watching the man she loved hold the little life they created. Aryx was safe in his father’s arms. He would always be loved and would always find strength.
Vorthal feasted on fear, on violence and chaos. If the world needed someone to hate, someone to blame. It would be her.
Her eyes scanned the room once more. Was she selfish enough to allow her child to live a life of chaos?
She’d lost control, let Vorthal’s essence flood through her veins.
She couldn’t allow her own fate to endanger Aryx.
Her eyes met Araes’s, and their unspoken words said everything she’d need to face this fate.
“Raise him well, Araes,” she whispered, placing her lips against his. They tasted of blood and sweat, but she welcomed his familiar warmth, just before she said goodbye.
“No, Goddess, please. You don’t have to do this! There has to be another way,” Araes cried, tears now streaming down his cheeks.
“You told me once you’d find me in every life. Promise me you’ll cherish him. You’ll savor every moment with our son and teach him to be an honorable man—a loyal and fierce man. Teach him to be just like you, Araes. Until you find me again.”
“Tethys, please don’t do this,” he whispered.
“I love you, Araes. From the moment we met,” she said, brushing a thumb down his jaw.
She looked at Aryx then, her golden haired boy who’d pulled her from darkness so many times. Every piece of herself cracked as she planted a gentle kiss on his little forehead. “Please don’t forget me, little light. I love you more than you’ll ever know, and I’ll never stop.”
“Tethys, no…” Araes begged.
But Tethys sucked in a breath and rose to her feet, like a phoenix from its ash.
“If you want to make me your villain, fine.”
And so she faced the darkness and blew out her light.