Chapter 40
Lyriasthe and I settled onto a lounger outside the manor, out of view of our Hathi guards and the servants managing the estate. The males had gone to the academy to oversee last minute preparations for our departure.
After everything that had happened, I needed—wanted—to focus my Sight on the future. Because I had to know what awaited us once we reached the wall.
I may never swing a sword, but I could help with this. And with Lyriasthe at my side, she could record anything that I might say. So long as Althirion and Nymirae weren’t around, I was safe to dive fully into my power.
The sun beat down, warming my skin. I focused on the sensation, on the cool breeze sending wisps of my silvery hair tickling my nose.
Radiant Mother, please show me the way.
I tugged on the white strands undulating in my well like they were the ribbons of a Vaela? shoe. Like I was steering my power toward the spine of our continent.
To where Zuriel and the rest of the army waited.
Grief gripped my heart and yanked. But I was doing this for Heraphia. Even if she didn’t live to see peace, I would ensure it happened.
Sacrifice.
The word was the tolling of a bell, echoing deep into my marrow.
The wall wouldn’t come, so I redirected my Sight to that word, on that image of the Demons at the gates of Thalvireth Palace. Yet the Goddess dangled the answer like a key on a chain across from my cage, out of range no matter how desperately I reached.
Did She even know the answer?
I should have trusted Her, given how connected I was to our Radiant Mother. Yet doubt thundered in my heart—of Her, of this war, of myself. Already, guessing had left me exhausted. And yet I couldn’t silence the scream of my thoughts.
Was it the death of someone else I loved? Because I couldn’t bear more of that agony. But both Angels and Demons had stood on that stage. So who had to immolate for the end of the war?
Sight was never certain. Even at a ten clarity, something might shift—a decision might be made, a choice forgiven—that could alter the path.
At best, I possessed a compass amid the storm. As did those trapped in the palace, kept like pets for the Korona. I had to save them. Once I was on the throne, they’d be free, never forced to See against their will again.
“Lyriasthe?” I asked, opening my eyes and twisting to face her.
“Hmm?” she replied, sitting up on her elbows. She suppressed a yawn, body shuddering instead.
“What do you think Heraphia Saw before she died?”
“I didn’t hear everything she said,” Lyriasthe sighed, sky-blue eyes shining. “But given how she convulsed, how she cried…it must have been devastating.”
“She said she Saw the end,” I trailed off, body tensing as the rest of the words that had spilled from her lips screamed in my ears.
War. Peace. Mirror. Void. Angel. Demon. Marriage. Death.
There was a rhythm to them that dug into my bones, anchored so deep I couldn’t shake them loose. But among them was the answer to this question of sacrifice.
“Isn’t that what you Saw too?” she asked, straightening and crossing her legs. She leaned her elbows on her knees, propping her head on her open palm.
I chewed on the inside of my cheek. “I think so. Do you think it could have been the same one?”
“It’s possible,” she said slowly. “Is what she said to you similar to what you Saw?”
“Not entirely. This sacrifice…” I shook my head. “I can focus my Sight on so many things, but I cannot glimpse any more than I already have of that.”
“Walk me through the moment. Maybe it will spark something,” she offered, grabbing a stick of charcoal and twirling it between her fingers.
“Sivy was burning. The gates to Thalvireth hung off their hinges. In one of the gardens, there was a stage. Angels gathered around it. The vision ended with that word ringing out. I tried to drift closer, but I couldn’t.”
“Were there Demons?” she prodded.
I dipped my eyes closed and pulled the image back to my mind.
“Maybe? There’s so much I don’t know about my power, that I’m still discovering.
I wish Heraphia were here. She would know how to help.
” A lump wedged itself in my throat; I couldn’t breathe around it.
“I thought I’d have more time with her. I never thought… ”
Lyriasthe scooted closer, rubbing soothing circles on my back. I buried my face in her shoulder to muffle my sobs.
“There was a male before Maelsar,” Lyriasthe began, her words low. “He sacrificed himself so that I could escape. He promised he’d find me, that no matter what, he wouldn’t let himself be killed. Leaving him was the hardest thing I’d ever done. I thought I’d have more time with him too.”
I lifted my head, finding her eyes brimming with tears. “How did you move on?”
A watery laugh escaped her. “It’s silly, really. When my heart ached for that loss, I’d conjure an Illusion of him and just…talk to him. He was my best friend and my lover. It helped me say goodbye, in a way.”
I sat up, capturing her hands in mine and giving them a squeeze. “We lost so many over the years. To the hunters and to the crown.”
“That we did,” she whispered, letting the drops cascade down her cheeks.
“Which is why we have to find a way to prevent more losses. Both because wanting peace is a crime against the crown punishable by death and because there are so many younglings at that academy who should not have to face their deaths already.”
“They’re little more than children,” I agreed, my voice shaking. From the males who boasted the barest hint of facial hair, to the females who still carried that youthful thinness, I’d lost count of the number who I questioned if they were even of age yet among the forces.
Acidic guilt washed through me. For the prophecy to come to pass, so many of them would never see their families again. Their bodies would be left to rot on a battlefield, their souls trapped in this world and never able to move on.
I wasn’t sure if the Demons would care enough to burn the bodies of the Angels. After all, we’d antagonized them for centuries. To most Angels, they were not people, but beasts, little better than animals. And if we painted them as such, what incentive did they have to act any other way?
We were quiet for several minutes, each lost to memories of the past.
“Will you create an Illusion of Heraphia for me?” I asked quietly. Because maybe, just maybe, if I could stem the flow of grief, I could think straight enough to figure out what the Goddess wanted from me.
“Of course,” Lyriasthe murmured.
White dripped from her palms, the tendrils braiding together. Aquamarine irises and pearlescent hair emerged first, then the soft expression she wore when she was focused on her painting. Until finally, Heraphia, my beautiful, sweet Heraphia, stared back at me.
Tears stung my eyes and the back of my nose as I beheld a face as familiar as my own. “Heraphia.” Her name lodged in my throat, and I reached forward like I could feel the warmth of her skin one last time.
The image wavered as my fingers brushed through it.
I swallowed, hand falling to my side again. “I’m so sorry. I should have seen how you were struggling and known it had reached a dangerous level. I never should have let you share power with the Korona.”
Hot salt clawed down my cheeks and dripped onto my chest.
“I should have stopped the virelthorn long ago so I could have helped you protect Zuriel. Maybe if I hadn’t been so selfish, you would still be here.”
The Illusion shifted, a look of sympathy blooming on Heraphia’s face. Like Lyriasthe knew I was really asking for forgiveness.
“I wish we’d had more time together. I wish we had one more moment in your painting studio where you flung oils at me for dancing around you and distracting you from your work. I wish I had been able to say goodbye to you.”
A sob wracked my frame, and I clutched my heart, doubling over. Unable to continue. Unable to bear the thought of all the ways I’d failed her.
Light fell away, until only the sun shone down on us. Too bright. Too oppressive for the depths of my sorrow.
“Thank you,” I managed to get out while air struggled in and out of my lungs.
Vaeron brushed on the fringes of my mind, a silent promise that he was here if I needed him.
“Heraphia was doing it for you as much as she was for Zuriel,” Lyriasthe murmured, offering me a handkerchief.
I blew my nose and dried my eyes. “I know, that’s what makes it worse. I was so consumed with everything with Vaeron, I wasn’t paying enough attention to her.”
“She understood,” Lyriasthe reassured me. “We spoke at length about you.”
“Did you?”
“She loved you very much. Like a sister. That was her greatest gift, I think.”
“What do you mean?”
“Love. She never held it back. No matter if you were new in her life or as old a companion as you were, she made you feel it.”
A small, aching smile tugged up the corner of my lips before they fell into a frown. “She’d hate me now though. For killing Helene.”
Lyiasthe snatched my hands with such vehemence that I jumped. “She would not. Nor do I or Maelsar or Vaeron. What happened was an accident.”
But guilt still raced through my veins. “I’m a murderer, Lyr.”
“Then so am I. Do you hate me?” She arched a creamy white brow, daring me to say yes.
But of course, I couldn’t. “Never. But like you said, those Sightkeepers were already dying. You sped up the process.”
“Technically, we’re all dying, at a very slow rate. So you expedited Helene’s death too.”
A laugh burst out of me, along with a sob. “That’s so ridiculous, Lyriasthe.”
She shrugged, her grin equal parts amusement and confidence. “Doesn’t mean it’s not true.”
I twisted my hair around my fingers and secured it in a knot atop my head.
“I don’t know how to forgive myself for it.
I should let it go. You are all telling me to let it go.
But isn’t that exactly how Iaoth and Stadiel operate?
They kill whomever challenges them too fiercely or gets in their way. ”
“You are not them, nor will you ever be them,” Lyriasthe swore, expression turning serious.
But wasn’t I? Didn’t my pain make me act in horrible ways, dooming thousands to die?
Even if we’d formed a new plan, I’d still Seen our end. It was as likely to happen now as it had been the day the prophecy slammed into me.
“Come on,” Lyriasthe said, rising off the lounger and dusting off her skirt. “Let’s go for a walk. The lake will bring you peace.”
With a sigh, I joined her, and we walked side by side through the tall grass. All the while, I wrestled with what I’d done and who I needed to become.