31. Raea
Raea
She waits beneath the evening sun—patient, deliberate. Two crowns and a son now bend beneath darkness, and their choices will hasten the unraveling of the Veil.
Beware the one whose heart stands divided. Darkness is the home she knows. Light has yet to claim her. And the crown you would trust? Its bearer is no longer whole. What was once loyalty now festers in shadow.
The war that approaches cannot be stopped. It cannot be reasoned with. It cannot be defeated. It must be survived—until true balance is restored. Awaken the storms, rebuild what has been lost, and light the way home.
An hour later, the four of us sit around the table in the library, needing more room to work. We’ve concluded that Astor’s warning most likely includes King Alexi, but who the son and the other crown is, we have no clue.
Calia said we had to go to Caelus—the fifth god and youngest sibling. I don’t even know how we will get there, but I guess we’ll have to try. Maybe one of the larger transports could make it.
Elison brought the only surviving map of the galaxy, the one with approximate locations as to where the other systems are. Even with our current tech, we can’t get to Auralan. Not unless there is another portal we don’t know about.
Elison runs a hand over his short coils.
“The awakening I believe Calia was speaking of has to be the awakening of your lifeforce. There’s very little mention of it.
” He shakes his head. “But you’ll need your Aethermark Bond sealed with all eight runes.
For that, there’s a set of trials you must complete before it’s sealed with a rite. ”
“But why would the Aethermark fix the lifeforce?” I ask.
“And does that mean we become Fae and Elven?” Ryker asks.
Elison shakes his head. “I don’t know. I believe the awakening will restore you.
” He sits down on the edge of the chair, a leg propped up as he strokes his chin.
“Your magic must be tied to your bloodlines.” He glances at my father.
“If restored, my assumption is you’ll no longer be human, allowing your magic to fully manifest.”
Elison’s words hang in the air. The idea that the awakening will "restore" us adds a layer of existential dread to the war we are already failing to stop.
I feel Ryker shift beside me, his jaw tightening as he leans into my space. It’s a subtle movement, but through the Bond, I can feel him already bracing for the physical and spiritual toll these trials will demand of me.
Ryker clears his throat. “But she already used her magic, and she’s still human.”
My father nods. He’s been pacing back and forth mostly, listening and thinking. “Or we haven’t seen the full extent of those powers.”
A knock at the door pauses us as my mother steps inside.
She looks beautiful, like always, but my favorite look of hers is when she’s just Amaya, not the queen.
She’s dressed in a simple gown with a thick robe, her hair falling freely around her shoulders.
The chestnut strands flow as she stands beside my father.
In a gentle voice, she says, “It’s late. Nothing can be decided with tired minds. Tomorrow we all travel to Malaya for the start of the week. Let’s get some rest, and you can work on the flight over.” She nods to my father, her subtle way of saying it’s not up for discussion.
She’s right, of course. I’m so tired I feel sick.
“Elison, you’ll travel with us to Malaya. Can you be ready to leave after breakfast?” my father asks.
Elison agrees, collecting the books and papers as he bows before disappearing through the door.
Ryker stands, offering me a hand.
I accept it, allowing myself to be pulled into his arms with ease. “I’ll walk you to your room.”
My mother wishes us a goodnight as we take our leave.
The palace halls are empty at this hour, the white stone floors glitter with the moonlight, and the ornate rugs dampen the sound of our steps as we head to the uppermost floors of the palace.
“Stay with me?” I yawn, opening my door. “I sleep better when you’re with me.”
Ryker agrees, placing a kiss on my forehead before whispering he’ll be back. Zhel appears telling me she’ll be helping me since Mera is feeling ill.
After crawling into bed, Ryker slips into the room. He pulls back the covers and moves into my favorite spot. I’m pulled back into his chest as he wraps me in his arms. “Sleep, love.”
I hum, and within minutes, I’m out.
The forest is quiet today, which isn’t unusual, but it’s still warm enough for most creatures to be out before they hunker down for the colder season. It must have rained last night because the soil under my boots squelches with every step.
I keep walking, breathing in the air, memorizing every inch I can. I love the forest. I love the towering trees with trunks covered in moss. I love the way heavy droplets of rain fall from the canopy even hours after it’s stopped raining.
I turn toward the sound of a cracking twig. Maybe I’ll get to see another Phranick. I spin in place, my eyes searching for the little creature, but finding nothing. Another snap of a twig has me swinging my head in the opposite direction.
There’s a prickling sensation on the back of my neck this time. Like I'm being watched. It’s only then that I realize I’m alone. I spin, looking for Ezra, Theovan, Ryker…anyone. But nobody is here.
A chill runs through me, before I remember I have magic. I call upon it, begging that molten heat to spread, but it seems it’s content to remain quiet and unmoved. I take in my surroundings, looking for the way I came, except that I can’t remember. In fact, I don’t remember how I even got here.
Then, out of the corner of my eye, movement. I turn to see a thick onyx mist crawling along the forest floor, headed right for me. When I walk faster, away from it, I see more mist. This time, when I look around, I’m surrounded.
My heart beats rapidly as I search for a way out. I spin again, calling on that stupid starlight magic that has chosen now of all days to remain perfectly calm. A musical giggle comes from my right, and when I turn, my blood turns to ice.
It’s me.
I must be dreaming.
That tracks.
I swallow down my fear as I stare into the image of me, taking in the black cobweb gown that clings to my body, the black lip stain, and black coal painted around a set of blue eyes.
I’ve never understood why, in my dreams, I have blue eyes. My eyes have always been green. I take in the blood-red nails as she—me—brings a finger to her mouth, her eyes full of amusement as she watches me.
“Wake up,” I say to myself, because as much as I should realize it’s a dream, my body is on full alert.
Another giggle. “Why, you are everything I’ve dreamed you’d be,” the other version of me croons. “It’s fabulous.”
There’s something about the way she circles me, as if she’s seeing right through me.
“Why do I keep seeing us in my dreams?” I ask, hiding my shakiness, but failing. I guess I shouldn’t be afraid to show my real self, but I am. Something about this version of me is terrifying. There’s something in those blue eyes that feels cold…dead even.
She pauses directly in front of me. The smell of pomegranates and spiced wine is cloying, a decadent scent that feels like a rot hidden beneath a beautiful surface.
I look for the starlight magic I’ve come to rely on, but it is buried under the weight of the onyx mist, leaving me vulnerable to a version of myself that has already embraced the darkness Astor warned us about.
With dark amusement, she says, “Because I will it, Soraea.” Her black lips tug into a smile that terrifies me.
When my dark reflection calls me Soraea, the name feels like a claim.
I close my eyes, trying to let the steady rhythm of Ryker’s heart drown out the echo of that musical, mocking giggle.
Calia’s words from the prophecy drift through my mind like the very mist I escaped: “Beware the one whose heart stands divided. Darkness is the home she knows, light has yet to claim her.”
A cold shiver that has nothing to do with the temperature traces my spine. I wonder if the goddess was warning me about an enemy in the coming war, or if she was warning Ryker about the version of me currently waiting in the shadows of my own soul.
I don’t want this.
I look around again. The mist is lingering several feet away, unmoved. I need to get away.
“I wouldn’t try it,” she says, “but then again, it might be amusing.”
My gaze snaps back to her. “You control the shadows and the mist.”
I say it more as an acknowledgment, not a question.
Is this my future self? Is this a warning that the choices I make could lead to this?
I want the starlight. I want goodness and joy.
“What happens?” I ask, swallowing thickly, unsure if I want the answer.
She—me—grins before responding. “We’ll meet again very soon, Soraea.”
With that, I’m thrust back into my dark room, gasping for air as Ryker cradles me to his chest, muttering and begging for me to wake up.
“Ry?” I say with a shaky voice.
He exhales, burying his face in my hair. “You’re okay. You’re awake.”
I cup his cheek, feeling the scruff beneath my palm before sliding my hand behind his neck and pulling his mouth to mine. I kiss him, long and slow, allowing his warmth, his love to fill my soul. I don’t want to lose this version of myself. I don’t want to become…that.
“Just a dream,” I say, curling into his chest as we both lie back down on the pillows. “I’m okay.”
Maybe if I say it enough, I can will it into existence.
The way he holds me, still trembling, means he isn’t quite sure, but I kiss his bare chest, once, twice, three times. Then I whisper on a sleepy yawn, “I love you, Ry. I’ll never leave you.”