Chapter 50 #2
The interior of the central command building was blissfully warm, and I sank to the ground in front of the hearth, my numb hands stretched out in front of me. The heat of the flames licked them, bringing life back into the numb tips. A tingling sensation spread up my arm and down my spine.
I blinked, burnt orange warping into burgundy.
Yes, thank you, Radiant Mother, for showing me the way and allowing it to be in a place of safety.
“Vision,” I croaked out as my head snapped skyward, darkness closing in. Vaeron’s determined expression was the last image in my mind before my power drowned me.
Stone spilled in every direction, up and down ridgelines and disappearing into the distance. That firm line was punctuated every so often by spears pointing toward the sky. From my vantage point, it seemed endless. Repeating for all eternity.
Dots moved beneath me, so tiny I first thought them ants. But as I drifted closer, I realized they were people. Angels and Demons. Pinned on either side of the thick thoroughfare, they faced off—weapons sheathed, words poised to strike instead.
Two thrones waited, the embodiment of death. Bones formed their base and back, skulls situated at the end of the arms. They held a grotesque sort of beauty, the type that built bile and awe. Atop the larger was the male I was coming to recognize as the Halálhívó. And beside him was his mate.
Both smirked like they’d already won the war.
Had they?
The Halálhívó spoke in the common tongue, but I was too far overhead to grasp his words. My focus flicked through the crowd of Angels, seeking the Koron and Korona. But they weren’t there.
So this couldn’t be the end, could it?
Until my attention flitted over my mate, flanking a male adorned in armor so polished that if I were any closer, I’d peer into my own reflection. A plumed helmet obscured his head and face, the feather more ostentatious than any I’d seen at Thalvireth Palace.
The Koron?
I wasn’t close enough to discover his identity.
More statements volleyed between the two groups, fast and indistinct as windblown rain. I reached like I could drag myself closer, and yet I could not move.
Breath caught in my throat as I witnessed myself hand over a piece of parchment.
What the fuck?
I’d never Seen a future where I watched myself from the outside…
And what was on that paper? Why hadn’t Vaeron been the one to deliver it? Or Maelsar? Why me?
With fear holding my ribs hostage, I scanned our surroundings, searching for a hint of where we could possibly be. This moment was important; yet I couldn’t grasp its clarity, the scene slipping through my fingers like sand.
Someone emerged from a watchtower—an Angel. No, two Angels. Concern pinched my brows. Who held this stretch of the wall?
The male dragged a bound and gagged female, tossing her forward like she was something to be bargained with rather than a real person, between the two groups.
Was she the sacrifice?
Confusion clouded my mind. I tried to steal a better glimpse of her, but her ash-white hair hung in her face, obscuring it from view.
I blinked, darkness lingering even as I opened my eyes again. Warmth enveloped my frame.
No! I don’t have enough information!
But the future swept away.
With a gasp, I returned to myself, finding Vaeron hovering above me. Strong arms supported my back, and I clutched at his chest, dragging myself closer to him. Inhaling his stormwood scent. Trying to figure out what was real.
“Did you See?” I asked him, hoping he had so he could help me make sense of it all.
“I did,” he murmured, rocking me as he had after so many visions before. “When you’re ready, we can talk.”
“I’m ready now.” I forced my fingers to relax. Rolling out my shoulders and neck, I eased myself to the ground again, still too cold to be anywhere but beside the hearth.
“Let’s wait for Maelsar and Lyriasthe to return,” he said.
“Where did they go?”
“To fetch us food and water. Do you not remember?” he asked, head tilting ever so slightly to the side.
I stuck my tongue in the side of my cheek, thinking back to our arrival in the officers’ quarters. “No. Maybe my power was creeping in earlier than I thought?”
Vaeron hummed, none of the concern roiling through our connection ebbing.
“How long was I out?” I asked when he didn’t respond.
“Ten minutes maybe,” he replied, reaching out and tucking a lock of hair behind my ear. The knot atop my head was an utter mess.
I nodded. That at least was far more reasonable than when I’d been adrift in my power for most of the day.
Perhaps that was also an anomaly. It wasn’t like I’d been Seeing for centuries to know.
All I had to go off of was Heraphia and my time in the Divine Atrium.
At least I’d figured out how to steal a glimpse of the near future.
Our friends returned, bearing plates of warm, steaming food and mugs of ale. My stomach let out a loud rumble. Meals at the watchtower and on the road had been limited.
What I wouldn’t give to settle in one place and stay; yet there could be no sanctuary until the war ended.
Lyriasthe and Maelsar settled on the ground beside us, and I accepted the food and alcohol, taking a long swig.
“I had another vision,” I told them.
“Oh, fuck. Let’s hear it then,” Maelsar said, likewise imbibing a hefty portion of his drink.
“I was floating above the wall,” I began, explaining the scene in as much detail as I could remember.
When I got to the end of it though, I turned to my mate.
“Who were those people? Where was that? Why did that Angel have another captive?” The questions spilled out of me, and I searched Vaeron’s face for answers.
He let out a long sigh, chest deflating. “The Angel I stood beside is Zahal Ishim. And I believe the Myrza with the captive was Saethir.”
Maelsar spluttered out his ale, making the flames dance. “What? You mean you Saw him alive?”
A frown pulled at my lips. “Who is Saethir?”
Maelsar pounded his chest, trying to dislodge what was left of his drink.
“Saethir is Maelsar’s older brother. Ishim sent him off to lead the attack on the Demon’s military academy,” my mate explained, casting a glance at his friend. “We assumed he would die there.”
Lyriasthe reached for her intended, resting a hand on his thigh.
“Well, if he’s alive, I won’t be the heir to House Caerelith anymore,” Maelsar drawled, casting a hopeful look at Lyriasthe.
“Except he appeared to be on the Demons’ side since he held an Angel female captive,” Vaeron added, fingers tightening on a roll, digging divots into the puff.
Maelsar groaned, his spoon plunking back into his stew and sending brown liquid splashing. “Fuck me.”
I shared a concerned look with Lyriasthe. “So what does this mean? What was happening there?”
Vaeron set down his bread, chewing his mouthful quickly. “I’m not sure. Sometimes the leaders of each army like to meet and taunt one another. It’s a game the Halálhívó and the Zahal have played for decades.”
“So you think that was a military meeting and not a peace negotiation?” I questioned, toying with my fork. Until I had answers, the food could wait—or it might end up back on the tray.
“Ishim likes to flaunt his moral superiority,” Maelsar snorted, recovered at last. “Don’t you remember how he acted when they reached the fringe of the Es? Forest last year?”
Vaeron shook his head. “Fucking Ishim. I don’t know when he’ll realize that pissing off the Halálhívó only doubles his ferocity. He believes almost as much as Stadiel that he can do whatever he wants and the Goddess will protect him from the consequences.”
“He sounds delightful,” I said, nose scrunching.
“He’ll be wanting to see you when he arrives,” Vaeron warned, his dichotomous eyes raking over me.
“But maybe we can use that to our advantage?” Maelsar questioned. “Sylaira is the holiest living icon to him. He won’t question a damn thing she says.”
Their attention turned to me, and the flames at my back crackled.
“Do you think you can manipulate him?” Vaeron asked me.
“I did a pretty good job with you, didn’t I?” I quipped, the corner of my mouth lifting.
His gaze darkened. Lyriasthe coughed, dropping her head to hide her grin.
I risked a slurp of my stew, and Vaeron shoved the rest of his roll in his mouth, letting me have the last word—for now. Even if we didn’t loathe each other anymore, bantering with him was far too sweet an opportunity to surrender.
“While the details weren’t clear, I think this meeting is important. If we can find that location, maybe we can find out why the Goddess showed the moment to me.”
Vaeron nodded, sipping from his drink to force his food down. “I agree. Though by the topography, I believe it’s somewhere in the middle of the range, closer to both Sivy and Uzhhorod. Can you draw a picture of everything you saw?”
Sorrow twinged in my heart. I didn’t have nearly the skill Heraphia did. Over the years, she’d tried to help me improve my technique, but I’d been hopeless. It had been the same for her and Vaela?.
“Give me some charcoal and parchment.” The determination in my tone imbued my bones too. Vaeron passed me some, and I shoved my food to the side, making space to draw what I had Seen.
Because I was the storm of change this realm had never seen coming.
And I was ready for all of this to end.