Chapter 29 #3
Everyone startles. “What?” Zillah demands.
He leans forward, grinning like he’s solved a riddle. “I told you I’ve been trying to figure you out. I’ve seen nothing like this before. But now I get it. You can absorb another’s power. Which explains why you two share powers.”
“Yes,” I admit warily. “But it’s not something I want. I just told you what happened the one time I tried—how overwhelming it was, what I saw. What it did to me.”
Arden waves that off, his grin undimmed. “But don’t you see? It’s incredible. The vision—it has to be you, right?”
The words ripple through the group like a shockwave. Selene’s voice is hushed, but certain. “Metra…you were born of two realms. You are of Thrae, but born in the mortal one. You fit the words exactly.”
“I—” My throat closes. “It can’t be me.”
Yet every eye flicks toward me, then toward Elaris. And Elaris—Elaris only watches, her expression unreadable. She doesn’t deny it. She isn’t confirming it either.
I swallow, the weight of their expectations pressing in on me. “Elaris?”
Her gaze holds mine. But all I read in her eyes is honesty. I do not know.
“We don’t understand your power. Not yet.
But I know this—I felt a ripple in the world once.
A flare of raw magic so strong it made the very air hum.
” She pauses, eyes narrowing as if she’s remembering.
“It must have been the night you were born. Before I could trace it, it vanished. Snuffed out, as though it had never been.”
The hair rises on my arms. My voice is barely a whisper.
“The binding.” Her head inclines, slow and sure.
“Probably so. I would guess your mother bound your power as quickly as she could. A desperate shield—so that no one could ever track that surge back to you, or even know where it had come from.”
The image slams into me. My mother—giving birth, likely alone, drenched in pain and fear—still had the strength to weave complicated magic around us both. Shielding me even as exhaustion pulled at her bones.
Arden rakes a hand through his hair, restless. “Then I still don’t understand. If the vision is about Metra, where do I fit in? Why am I here at all?”
At that, Elaris steps closer, her voice smoothing like water over stone.
“Because the vision was not just spoken. It was foreseen by Tobias Veynar and delivered to King Leander Valemar, our king consort. Leander guarded it closely, unsure of its meaning. But at last he trusted the wrong one with that knowledge, and it cost him his life.”
The words slam into me like arrows. My chest hollows, breath catching, sharp and shallow. Betrayal. Murder. Was that what stole my father from me? My hand tightens unconsciously on Lowan’s arm as the weight of it presses in.
Elaris’s tone softens. “Tobias walked away from the royal family after that. What followed is less clear. Much is lost to us. But we know this: someone sought him out. They asked him to deliver a child to safety, far from the reach of the Thraean court.”
Her eyes rest on Arden. “That child was you.”
For once, Arden is silent. His usual smirk is gone, replaced by something taut, uncertain. Remli’s hand finds his, fingers lacing tight.
Elaris continues. “Tobias later wrote to me. He did not know why he had been chosen. He did not know your importance. Only that it was essential he agree, even though it would cost him his life, that was the last message I ever had from him.”
The cavern falls silent. The weight of Tobias’s sacrifice, of Arden’s hidden past, presses against us like the stone walls themselves. No one knows what to say. Not even Arden. Selene’s voice slices through the quiet. “You said there was a rift? And we needed to be united?”
Elaris’s gaze drifts over us, slow and measuring, but Arden answers before she can. “It’s me,” he says, voice rough. “I’m the rift.”
Remli breathes in like she’s about to protest, but he barrels forward, eyes locked on the scroll in front of him.
“I never knew how I came to Moirae. My parents—my adopted parents—never wanted questions, only silence. So I shoved everything down. My doubts. My insecurities. I buried them under jokes and flirting. Fights, too. The bruises made me feel something, at least for a moment. Fear gave me a name. Better to be reckless than invisible.”
He pauses, jaw tight. “When you all showed up, I couldn’t say no to leaving. I love my parents, but I’m not of their blood. I don’t belong in those fields. And then I saw your face—” his eyes lift to Remli, shimmering now with tears—“and I was gone.”
My chest aches as I watch her nod, silent encouragement passing between them like a secret.
Arden swallows hard, finally dragging his gaze around the circle to face us all.
“I’m sorry. I’m difficult. I don’t even know what I am, but I know I can be a prick.
I did not know your father lost his life helping me. I… I could never—”
His voice breaks. Zillah steps forward first, taking his hand. Then she reaches back for Lowan’s. He accepts, tugging me in beside him. Selene and Remli close the circle—our hands link. No words are spoken. But something hums between us—trust, acceptance, the fragile beginnings of respect.
Elaris’s voice cuts through from beyond. “So it begins. The rift mends. Mending is not the same as healing, but it is enough for now. Go, rest.”
Selene looks up, unwilling to let go just yet. “What about the other scrolls?”
As if answering her, the books and scrolls rise from the table, spiraling back to their shelves above.
“When you are ready, they will be as well,” Elaris states and turns to lead us back into the dark.