Chapter Forty-Nine #2
When I see that smile, all the heaviness in my mind lifts, and I am reminded of my purpose.
Reminded that every sacrifice—every action I take—it is all to see that smile appear again.
To give it a safe home, where it may shine without fear or worry of death threatening to deconstruct its delicate curves from tugging upwards ever again.
Casimir
A cold chill sweeps along my body as I attempt to process that knowledge.
It was exactly as I thought—Casimir references someone named Sitara in this journal many times. He always speaks of her tenderly, with respect. In a similar way a painter speaks about their art.
With love and admiration.
Draven’s words echo in my head.
But perhaps of all the ways mortals and gods are intertwined, it is their desire to be loved that brings them most closely together; and it is that very desire that tore Sitara and Astralis apart. For the ones who harbored unrequited love formed a pact, vowing to separate them.
I’ve always believed myths were grown from seeds of truth. That perhaps there was a real woman who found a man washed up on a shore and took care of him. But I always figured the stories were embellished—romanticized.
Falsified.
It’s a large part of why I never paid attention in my myth and lore studies. Why I never cared much to remember the mortals who walked among gods .
But I know Casimir Vivaldri was a real person.
And, for some unidentifiable reason, I believe everything he’s written in this journal is true.
That this lost version of history actually happened, despite what we’ve been taught.
And he writes of Sitara—of her existence.
Plus, that journal entry was in eerie alignment with the story Draven just told me, with mentions of her beauty, her voice, and her playing.
Which leads me to wonder…
Is it possible that Astralis, god of the stars, truly fell in love with a mortal girl? If he did, did he truly give her the power of the stars? Did that affect the outcome of the Great Clamatè War?
Was it Casimir who plotted against her—the person he claimed to be his closest companion, outside of the man he mentions, Magaius.
And then there is perhaps the most unsettling question of all…
What happened to her?
Hoping to learn more, I flip to the next entry and read.
I followed Magaius late in the night.
He went to the Temple of Rhylia, the sacred place where one may commune with the gods, should a god or goddess be willing to speak. I suspect that is where he has been sneaking off to lately.
I plan to go back tomorrow when all have retired to their beds and confront him—to see with my own eyes what it is he has gotten himself into.
Whatever it is, I pray it is redeemable.
I record this knowledge in case I do not return.
Casimir
My brows scrunch together, and I bite down on my thumb with thought.
The Temple of Rhylia…
I don’t recognize it by name, but I also don’t recall any temples where one could go to actually commune with the gods.
Casimir was the first Crowned Prince of Rivara, meaning he was probably located around Keziah.
And around that area, there’s only one temple I can think of that remotely fits such a description .
I could be wrong, but…
I think the Temple of Rhylia is the lost temple within The Ruins. The very temple Gray and I explored before our departure. A temple steeped in stories. And I wonder…
Could any of those stories actually be about Casimir?
With my mind reeling, I turn to the next entry—
And am shocked when I realize it is the only one left.
The final passage.
I swallow, feeling strangely nervous. Still, I read.
I have not scribed these pages for a long, long time.
In a way, I suppose I was right to suspect I wouldn’t return from that temple.
I never did.
I am—
A knock at the door has me slamming the journal shut and jerking upright. I set it next to me—sliding it both hurriedly and sloppily beneath my pillow—and scurry from my bed.
“Coming,” I call out as I go, my voice carrying a strange hitch.
When I pull back the door, I’m surprised to see Griff, his fist mid-knock. He smiles. “Lyra, hi. I—uh, I was looking for Marcella. Is she in?”
My lip tips up with a pointed curve. “Marcella?” I question, acting confused. “What has you searching for her?”
Obviously I know, but watching Griff squirm with a flushed face is too good to pass up.
“Oh, well, uhm…” He stops, clearing his throat. “She and I had uh…plans.”
“Plans?” I repeat. “It’s starting to get late, and we have our final test tomorrow. What could you two possibly be up to?” My tone drips with playfulness.
He rubs the back of his neck and chuckles, the sound coated with nerves.
“I was going to give her a tour of the Castaria wing. After your test, if Kiran Selects her to be a member of our aggregate but other captains do as well, I want to show her why she should pick Castaria.” He drops his eyes to the ground, releasing a quiet sigh.
“I thought I would pick her up and escort her, but…” He chuckles.
“She probably already escorted herself.”
“Probably,” I confirm through a laugh. I lean my head against the door frame, a soft smile tugging at my lips as I study Griff. “You really like her, don't you?” The question comes out gentle.
He snorts an entirely unconvincing sound, mussing a hand through his hair. “What? Where’d you get that? She and I are just…well, we’re just…” Griff stops, blowing out a breath, and slides his gaze back to me. “I don’t want to scare her off,” he murmurs with a shrug, exposing his palms.
My smile widens. “You should tell her how you feel. You never know what might happen.” I pause, tapping a finger against my chin. “Tonight, perhaps?”
His lips twitch as he rubs the back of his neck again. “You really think I should?”
“Yeah,” I murmur. “I do.”
Griff exhales loudly through his nose, shaking his head. “Great,” he mutters jokingly. “Now I’m nervous all of a sudden.”
I watch him, chuckling under my breath. “You’re nervous because you care.”
“Or,” he counters with an arch in his brow. “I’m nervous because she’s scary.”
I snort a laugh. “All of the above?”
He smiles. “All of the above.” Griff’s eyes crinkle with warmth. “Thank you.”
“No thanks necessary,” I say through a gentle grin.
He huffs a laugh, then turns to walk away. But he stops suddenly, reorienting himself to face me. “Oh yeah, I almost forgot—Nuha is looking for you. She’s requested that you meet her in Philator’s library. I think she found something on that weird essence flower of yours.”
Clearly unsure of how to react to the information, a weight sinks in my stomach while butterflies awaken in my chest. “When does she want to meet with me? ”
He scratches at his temple. “I’m not sure. But I know she’s in the library right now. I could open a portal for you, if you want?”
I sigh, weighing the choice. Ultimately, I decide I need to know what my essence flower means perhaps more than I need to know what Casimir Vivaldri’s last journal entry says.
At least, I think.
“That’d be great.”
Griff slowly scans me, his eyes lingering on my lower half. He clears his throat and points at my legs. “Uh, you may want to put on pants first.”
I glance down, suddenly reminded I’m still only in Draven’s oversized shirt.
Griff’s smirk turns pointed, and he folds his arms over his chest. “Don’t think I don’t know whose shirt that is.”
I make a face at him, willing my burning cheeks to thaw. “I’ll only be a minute,” I grumble.