Chapter 30
Chapter
Thirty
Chaos surrounded me.
In the courtyard of the castle, I stood alone aside from the statues that circled me. Unsettling screams of cruel agony circulated the air. The inescapable smell of burning flesh filled my nostrils as I spun around, absorbing the massacre before me.
“Sebastian?” I called out, though he was nowhere to be seen.
I crossed the cobblestone over piles of deceased bodies. Cartilage crunched under my feet as I stepped on the charred skin of someone’s loved one, the corpse still burning when I walked by it.
Hot blood sunk into my eyes, turning my vision red. I looked up towards the heavens. The sky was ablaze, though not with flame, but with death.
Caelestis was under attack. That was the only explanation for this. Draemor finally struck when King Hawthorne refused to hand me over.
I gazed at my feet, watching as the death beneath me was swallowed by fog.
This was my fault.
Recentering myself in the courtyard, I ignored the cracking bones under my boots. The world was being consumed by a thick veil of haze, and I couldn't see anything within a few inches of me.
“My star.” My nickname called to me in a whisper.
My mother—the only one who called me that. I gazed sightless through the haze for her, but she was not there.
Pain swelled in my chest. I couldn’t stop it. Couldn’t stop the death. The agony. My face twinged with the feeling of false magic—I had no power in a battle this large.
I was useless.
“Maeve,” the same shrouded voice hummed my name. A feminine hand reached out of the clouded space, shining and white, beckoning for me to take it.
I did. Without hesitation.
Spindly fingers of stone weaved themselves between mine. “You can stop this,” the voice said, and though I couldn't physically see a face, I could picture her.
Her image flashed through my mind. Illuminated silver hair flowed down past her back with strands of aqua that matched her glittering eyes. Her lips and cheeks were pale, and her skin sparkled despite the darkness around us. She was ornate with her aura of peace.
“I am too weak.”
“You are far from weak.” Her mineral fingers wiped the blood from my face, her light skin contrasted by the deep crimson.
“You have the stars on your side.” Her voice echoed within the walls of my mind.
I shook my head in denial. “The kingdom’s on fire, and I’m the one who caused it.”
“Maybe so, but you will also be the one to stop it. Do not fight the sacrifice, as it is well worth the reward.”
Her voice faded away as her hand pulled back into the veil of nothingness. She absorbed back into the mist, leaving me alone in the turmoil of war to be swallowed by a bloodcurdling scream.
My own scream.
I shot straight up in my bed, panting and choking on my own lungs. My forehead was soaked with sweat, stray pieces of hair plastered to it. I clutched the star pendant to my chest, rubbing it beneath my fingers as I settled my breathing. My insides burned like they were on fire.
It was just a dream. A nightmare, rather. Though it seemed more real than that. Like a horrific, twisted hallucination.
My gut told me that the woman I saw was the one responsible for my constellastones, but I had not envisioned her face long enough to know for sure.
The horror of the dream clung to my brain like sap. I gagged at the smell of rotting flesh that I swore lingered in my nose.
Although only a dream, it raised more questions about the prophecy, specifically the sacrifice.
I'd been meaning to search the archives for more information, but have been too exhausted from all of my wielding.
I also worried that I'd find something that I was better off not knowing.
Outside my window, the obsidian sky was completely starless, the only light was that of the silver moon.
Sleep seemed impossible after what I just experienced, so I decided now was as good of a time as ever to make my way to the archives.
I crept through the soldiers’ corridors, down the staircase, and into the foyer of the castle.
The halls were dimly lit, making it difficult to recognize where I was.
I’d never really walked the castle this time of night, but was surprised to see there was no one else out for an evening venture.
There were guards stationed throughout, but they did a good job at staying hidden.
I reached the archives without seeing a soul.
Like the corridors, the library was vaguely lit this time of night. I looked up along the cylindrical walls of books, noticing that one floor was brighter than the rest—the one floor I needed to be on. Of course someone was up there.
I considered going back to my room, but ultimately decided against it. I wasn't doing anything wrong by being out this late. As long as whoever was up there didn't get nosey about my book choices, there was nothing to worry about.
I made straight for the portion of the endless bookshelf that had the manuscripts on the gods.
My finger ran down the spine of my chosen book, sliding it off of the shelf.
I studied the cover as I had many times before.
There must have been an answer to explicitly explain why Blythe chose me.
Out of everyone in our world, why did I have the characteristics she wanted fulfilled to grant her gift? I must be missing something.
“What are you doing here so late?”
I jumped, dropping the book from my hands at the sound of Sebastian's voice behind me.
I turned to face him, adrenaline coursing through me. “On the gods, you just scared the life out of me.”
He bent down to pick up my book then passed it back to me. “Sorry.”
When I got a good look at him, my head cocked to the side and my body tensed. He wore a pair of brown, square-framed glasses that somehow made him look even hotter. “You wear glasses?”
“Shit, uh yeah.” He reached up to take them off, but I caught his wrist, guiding his hand back down.
“I didn't know you had glasses.” I smirked, releasing my grip and accepting my book from his outstretched hand.
“Just for reading. Even then, I usually only wear them if I'm going to be studying for a while.”
“Is that why you're here so late? Studying?”
The corner of his lip tugged up. “Not particularly. Just reading.” He turned, walking back to where he had been sitting, and I followed him.
His reading material laid open on the chair. The book was small, and the pages looked handwritten.
“More obscene literature?” I teased, thinking back to the romance novel I caught him reading when we first met.
His cheeks flushed as if I embarrassed him, but he smiled. “Once again, it’s not obscene,” he argued.
I peered over, trying to get a better look, but he grabbed the book and hurriedly shoved it away into his rucksack, taking a new book out to replace it.
“Now why are you here?” he asked while lowering himself into his chair. “Without a guard, I should add.”
“I couldn't sleep.” I shrugged, choosing not to tell him about my dream. Or my vision? Hallucination? Whatever it was, I refrained in the fear of sounding crazy.
He glared at me through the tops of his glasses. “Why not?”
I took a deep breath in, releasing it and then sealing my lips tightly shut. I didn’t want to relive that nightmare again.
“Got it. I won’t keep asking.”
I gave him a half grin and sat in the chair next to him, turning my attention to the reason I was really here. The pages of my book skimmed my fingertips as I looked for something to solve the mystery that'd been consuming so much space in my brain.
Sebastian and I sat in silence while we read, simply enjoying each other's presence. About an hour in, I became too frustrated to continue and slammed my book shut with a groan of annoyance.
Sebastian looked up from his novel. “What’s wrong?”
“This book is useless. I’ve read it time and time again, and there’s no indication on what the sacrifice is,” I complained.
“Maybe it’s not meant to be solved until it comes true.”
“Maybe…”
He stared at me, knowing that I was not done.
“How is it that no one seems to know about the prophecy?”
“This archive in particular holds centuries worth of manuscripts, many of which just get lost in time. Forgotten about. There’s also never really been a reason to study Blythe until you.”
“I’m going to go see if there’s anything else in that section that might be useful before I leave,” I said as I climbed from my chair.
I searched the shelves high and low, but came across nothing that could be of any use to me. Maybe Sebastian was right—the prophecy wasn’t meant to be solved.
The thought sent me spiraling in fear over my potential impending death, but I clung to the words from the woman in my dream. Do not fight the sacrifice, as it is well worth the reward.
I turned back towards our chairs to tell him that I was leaving, but did not see Sebastian. I scanned the space until I spotted him on the other side of the room, putting his novel back on the shelf.
“You finished that already?” I questioned as I approached him.
“I’m a fast reader.”
His finger beckoned me closer to him, and when I obliged, he wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me into his chest. He smiled down at me, then dipped his head to kiss me. I welcomed the contact, my lips parting just enough for his tongue to slip between them.
It was a brief kiss, though it felt more intimate than our others. He pulled away too soon, leaving my lips aching for more.
“I really screwed myself out of kissing you while I was being stubborn for all those weeks,” I snarked while tucked away in his arms, my head resting against his chest.
“It's okay. Gave me more time to practice.”
My eyes widened. “You better be joking.”
He laughed, “Of course I am,” then pressed his lips to the top of my head.
I glanced up from the warmth of his chest to the bookshelf behind him. “What erotica do you plan to read next?”
“How many times must I tell you that I don't read erotica?” He chuckled, fighting back a smirk.