Chapter 2 #2
“Our mother was trying to make alliances with them, to help with what is coming, because our father was unsure it was worth the risk to ask their alliance. He couldn’t leave these shores, much like I can’t now.
Wolves and oblivion-touched have kept apart for centuries for a reason, and changing that was a risk.
Our mother was always the peaceful one, always making trades and deals, while my father was the brute behind her that dealt with any threats.
They were adored by our people, and they made everyone’s lives better…
until that night. She thought it best to be in alliance, and she demanded to go to the Crone lands for what is coming for us all. ”
I want to ask what is coming, but I don’t want to interrupt the story.
I do look at Zyran, who is watching and hanging on every word Dain says.
“Everything was fine in the beginning. We met with the alpha, and there were talks of peace. Our mother was delighted to have succeeded, and she planned to invite the Crone alpha back to our city and make an agreement. Then you started to come into your power. With Oblivion royals, if we are not bound when our power comes in, we could and likely would destroy cities. Some of us have.”
I think of the mountain range I destroyed, and I gulp. When Tannith died, when my power exploded, there was no control. I couldn’t stop it. Imagine if I was in a city when that happened? “Mother tried to hold you back with her magic, but it was not enough. I wasn’t old enough to be much help.”
I really don’t like where this is going. Zyran must sense my unease as his hand rests across my back, touching me softly. Comforting.
Dain taps his fingers on his empty glass.
“Our power has to be bound when we are young and then slowly released over time so that we have full control and don’t accidentally kill people.
No child should be expected to be able to control it.
Usually there are signs of power coming in, but your power was always predicted to be strong, and you came into it far too soon.
You are the youngest royal in history. Our mother only had one priest with us, who only came to see the districts.
Priests are very similar to what the wolves have, but they do not answer to the goddesses; they answer to our god instead.
Yet we were in the goddesses’ claimed lands, and they were not going to help oblivion-touched royals. ”
I nod. So they have a god they follow?
“The one with us was only a trainee, way too new to understand complicated binding spells—someone who would never normally perform the rite. But they had no choice. Your power was ripping through your own body, killing you, and you would have taken down the Crone Pack too. So he performed the rite, but it went wrong. It went so wrong.” He looks into the empty fireplace.
“Everything happened so fast. Our mother—I think she used the last of her life to protect you and me. To make sure the spell held and her children were safe. It was a mess, and it all happened so fast.”
He is quiet for a moment.
“I don’t remember much after the rite began.
I remember the blast of power throwing me out through the glass window of the apartment, and I was injured.
I remember the guards outside picking me up and rushing me away with them, talking about the Crone wolves attacking.
I remember them telling me they would come back when it was safe, that everyone was dead inside, that I was the only royal left except for our father, and that I was the only heir.
But I knew that you must have still been alive.
I was an injured kid, though, and no one listens to kids.
” He exhales. “I think there was more going on. I believe we were betrayed at the worst possible time. We were told that the wolves who came in to kill off our family killed you too. I have no proof of this, but the guards who saved me are certain it was no coincidence the room smelt of wolves when they returned and could only find our mother’s body and ashes of the priest.”
“Why leave me alive, then? How did I lose my memories? Why dump me in the human district?” I blurt out.
“I assume something went wrong with the magic of the rite. It was all too much, too fast. Spells like that have to be done perfectly, or there are consequences. You losing your memory was perhaps that consequence.” He shrugs, looking at me now.
“And our father?” I whisper.
“He died five years ago, I’m afraid. He never quite recovered from our mother’s death and your disappearance. He always hoped you would come home, but he was a sickly man.” He clears his throat. “I am king now.”
Zyran’s jaw clenches and he looks away.
“So not only do I have no memories of them, but they’re gone. Wonderful.” I squeeze my knees with my hands, digging my nails in.
“Not everyone is gone, Meredith. I am here. I could tell you everything about our mother and father,” he offers.
“About what it means to be here and to be a royal. The people will be glad of your return. Especially now. We could do with a little hope in the darkness.” He glances at Zyran.
“I gather you brought her here because it isn’t safe anywhere else.
I think it’s time I ask some questions now.
” His eyes move to my neck. “I’ve seen that mark before in books. You were in the Folkland?”
“Yes.” I nod. I do not want to talk about the Folkland.
I think I need several years of intense therapy to wipe my mind of everything that happened…
but then again, I have to find a therapist that doesn’t leave the room crying like the first and only one I had.
She said I was insane. It was a fair assessment.
I’m sure my new added trauma would only put me further up the coo-coo list.
“And you won it?” He leans forward. “Did you use your oblivion powers? Can you control them?”
“Yes, I won, but as a human. I only found out I had powers when I had already won,” I admit. “And control them? Erm, no. I levelled a mountain range by accident.”
Zyran laughs low. “It was spectacular to watch. Her power is indeed something to be witnessed.”
“Interesting. Usually, it’s a human who wins.
You are not human. You’re oblivion-touched.
Oblivion—that dark magic you can weave—that is its name.
Only royals can use it, connect to it or give it to trusted allies to the throne.
All royals choose at least ten royal-blessed fighters to protect them, like Zyran.
When you’re ready, you can choose yours.
They are blessed with our extended life span and connection to the dark god.
There are always one hundred royal-blessed alive at one time, each sworn to protect the throne and chosen by the king or queen.
Many of our parents chosen make up the guard here, and my picks of course. ”
I glance at Zyran for a second, and he nods once, his dark eyes telling me a story I just can’t figure out.
Dain continues, “Oblivion, it is alive and aware. You can hear it sometimes, and it can talk to you…but be careful. It is a dangerous magic, and speaking to oblivion comes with a heavy price of madness. You immediately need to be trained so that you do not go insane from listening to it.” He pauses.
“Did the alphas just let you go? Usually, the Champion is someone they claim and use…at least until the Champion suddenly and suspiciously dies.”
“I don’t want to talk about the dickhead alphas, the fucked-up heirs, or anything else to do with wolves,” I warn, feeling that sharp glint of pain in my chest once more.
“They killed her best friend,” Zyran softly tells Dain, the softest tone he has offered to my brother, and I know it’s for me.
Dain locks eyes with me. “Then they are traitors to us, and there will be punishments. We have ignored the wolves, dealing with our own problems on our shores, but it is a shame to hear they haven’t changed one bit since I was a child.
” He stands and smooths his tailored clothing before casually clasping his hands in front of himself.
“You should rest, Meredith. I promise you are protected and safe in my castle and home. No one will hurt you here.”
“No, they won’t.” Zyran’s tone can’t be mistaken as anything but violent.
Dain ignores him. “I will have someone bring you to the guest rooms for the night.” His eyes slide to Zyran. “You should not have him at your side or speak of him at all. In fact, it would be entirely better if he simply left you alone.”
“No,” I say, rather quickly. “You should be thanking him—he brought me here. Returned me home and saved my life several times.”
“I will never thank him. Neither should you. There is much you do not know, sister, but some of your naivety could be considered fortunate for you. The rest is not.” He looks between us.
“I will not bring you in front of the court until you decide that he will not be at your side. Whatever bond lies between you, it would be best if you severed it.”
“No,” I snap, a deep feeling of possessiveness washing over me. I can’t control it as shadows explode out of me and smack into the walls, leaving massive cracks up them, echoing with those dark whispers.
My brother looks at them and back at me with an arched eyebrow. “A temper like that will not do well when you are touched by oblivion, sister. Control is the price you pay for power. Rest. We will discuss more in the morning over breakfast.” He walks out, shutting the doors behind him.
I stare at the space where he was, then look up at Zyran, who is watching the door too. “He was always a difficult person to like,” Zyran murmurs. “Turns out getting the crown, getting the throne without challenge, made him more of an asshole than I remember.”
I let out a breath. “You said it would be safe here.”
“It is safer than any other place in this world,” he whispers back, his thumb rubbing a circle on my lower back.
“Can we trust him?” I ask next. I don’t get the feeling I should…even if it seems like he has all the answers in the world for me. This is where I was born, where I am meant to belong, but it feels like nothing more than a cold castle.
He tips my chin towards him with one finger.
“No. There is no one you can trust in this world except for me. There is one thing your brother forgot to mention. The crown of Oblivion is chosen by power, by the waves of oblivion that appear when a royal babe is born. He may have the crown, but there isn’t a person in this castle or city who doesn’t remember the day you were born and the city was drenched in oblivion…
and wonder, if you’d lived, would you have been crowned the heir? ”
I can hear my heartbeat in my ears. “You think he might see me as a threat to his crown?”
His hand slides down my jaw, down my neck, touching the mark there. “You’re a threat to this world, Meredith Duskmore…and we all know it.”