Chapter 41 Son of Death
Son of Death
CASPIAN
An unexplainable energy slithered through the streets of Veilmar, one composed of ancient wisdom and a malice that warned of the darkest force in our realm.
It clung to the air with an unrelenting determination—an unquenchable thirst—to snuff out any living organism.
To eradicate the essence of life and all it entailed without an ounce of consideration for what would follow.
Even though instinct called for me to flee, something rooted me in place—something commanding, something evil.
The rainfall slowed overhead, but the screams rolling from the docks continued.
While I knew the royal guard had ported, and likely a fleet or more of backup approached, a deep knowing stirred within me that each shout of fear belonged to those who had intended to infiltrate the island.
Whether it was an entity responsible for protecting those of Veilmar, or the clash with the crews manning the docks, I didn’t care.
Not when there were far more pressing concerns.
The lightweight metallic plates and luminescent inlays came into view first. The azure, silver, and vibrant plum linen beneath solidified the crown's presence, but it was the cloaked individual who walked amongst them that immediately instilled a sense of unease.
Carvings so ancient, so otherworldly, etched through numerous layers of her ashen flesh.
They belonged to an ancient language I recognized from the scrolls still tucked away on my ship.
I hadn’t been able to decipher their meanings.
Dropping her hood, pointed ears came into view, various silver and gold earrings adorning each of them.
Instead of strands of hair, horns nestled against her skull, curling back with a fluidity that seemed graceful but hinted at lethality.
An Other.
“Kneel,” she hissed, forked tongue lapping across her sharpened canines.
Unable to prevent my body from moving, I collided with the ground, sharp pain shooting up both thighs. Teeth clenched, I ground them together with the mounting wrath flowing through my veins. No matter how intentionally I tried to move, there was no result; my body was pinned by her command.
A false goddess.
A dark goddess.
A fucking cunt.
The corners of her mouth curled upward into a near-feline-like smile as she closed the distance between us. Footfalls slowing, she came to a halt before me. Raising her hand, she settled two taloned fingers beneath my chin, forcing me to look up at her.
“You are rather pretty.”
“Happy to be of service,” I gritted out between clenched teeth, my brows narrowing to hood my glare. “Which hole did you crawl out of to get here?”
She laughed. “And broody. I think you and I could get along rather well.”
“I will respectfully have to disagree with you.”
“Aw.” Feigning a pout, she glanced over her shoulder as if expecting someone. “I figured you’d be rather keen on the idea, considering you’ve lost the two you trusted the most.”
Syoran.
Sapphira.
My chest rose with a rage-filled inhale. “What the fuck are you insinuating?”
“Insinuating? Oh, darling, this is nothing but truth.” The sharpened tips of her claws ghosted down my neck, tracing the column of my throat with intention. “Your right-hand was decimated by Malrik Ravelle. And the woman… Oh, what was her name?”
“Sapphira, our Beloved Other,” one of the men flanking her answered.
Saph?
Attempting to lunge forward, I only managed an inch before an unseen force cinched down on my frame ten times harder. “Yes, yes, Sapphira.”
“What of her?” I seethed, nearly spitting at her feet.
It was impossible. She was lying. There was no way Syoran had departed this plane to meet with my father. I refused to believe in the possibility or what it would mean if it were the truth.
He was stronger than that, far more capable than he let on. And Ravelle? He was a pathetic sack of—
My breath hitched as a figure slipped from the alleyway, espresso bob swaying with each step.
Swords bouncing against her hip, she approached, her caramelized gaze downcast, as if she refused to acknowledge me.
The tight-fitted red blouse only solidified it all, accentuating the curves that I’d explored countless times.
“Saph, what the fuck are you doing?”
“Bargaining,” the Other replied for her, nicking my jaw with her talon.
Bringing the blood she summoned toward her mouth, she lapped my essence as if it were the finest delicacy known to man and gods alike.
“You see, desperation serves as a powerful pawn in the nuances of war. Especially when that desperation is tied to something like love or yearning.”
Did Sapphira do this?
“What the hell have you done?” I breathed, thrashing against the utter power the ancient being standing between us wielded.
“Caspian, I—”
“No,” I growled, my lips curling back into a sneer. “What the hell have you done, Sapphira?!”
“They have Lorelie…” she whispered, her bottom lip trembling as she struggled to lift her gaze to meet mine. “I did what I had to do—”
“Betrayed your fucking family? The people who saved you? Those who gave you freedom and a second chance at life?” Gathering a mouthful of saliva, I spat at her. “Everything I fucking did for you. All I sacrificed. And still, this is how you repay me?”
“I love her!” she screamed, the three words fracturing.
“And we loved you!” Anger shook my frame, drawing forth the darkness I carried. “Syoran and I… And now, because of your decision to oppose us, he’s dead!”
She blinked once before her head turned to the quiet Other. “You told me they wouldn’t be harmed.”
“And I did not forgo my promise,” the dark goddess replied, though the smugness in her expression gave away her intention. “Those whom I held command over stayed true to my extended expectation. Whatever Malrik Ravelle elected to do was of his own accord.”
“You fucking lured them here…” Holding Sapphira’s shifting stare, I nipped at my bottom lip with enough ferocity to draw blood. “Syoran is dead because of your inability to fucking think, Sapphira! They are here because of you, and that includes Ravelle.”
“Cas, I—”
“Don’t,” I barked, my wrath exemplifying.
“I gave you everything I possibly could. I fucking told you we would rescue your lover, and you elected to do this. So, whatever ounce of care you once believed I had for you? Consider it gone.” Glower hardening, I offered the rest of my statement with as much loathing as I felt. “I will fucking kill you, Saph.”
She flinched as if I’d hit her. “You don’t mean that.”
“Oh, I mean it with every drop of blood flowing through my body. Betrayal is not a concept I take lightly, and I have no problem stripping the skin from your body after I gut you.”
Sapphira opened her mouth to respond, but the Other raised her hand.
“As much as I enjoy listening to humans verbally assault one another, we have a schedule to adhere to.” Fixating on me, she craned her head to the side.
“If I give you the ability to walk, will you use it wisely, or will you attempt to run from me?”
“As if I have a choice?”
“You don’t,” she hummed, the tune enchanting but deadly. “Though I believe in autonomy to an extent, and I am happy to allow you to use your own two legs to board our ship.”
Scoffing, I shook my head. “Yeah. Whatever.”
“That easy?” Her ember gaze flared in amusement, as if she wished to test my patience. “No fight?”
“Gods, what have none of you learned?” I grumbled more to myself than to her. “I know King Marellan. If I decline, my ship and the remnants of my men,” I briefly glanced at Sapphira, “will be executed. If I oblige, they may be down a leader, but they will live.”
“Correct,” the goddess crooned, taking a step back. “Though I would like to enlighten you even further. What you can expect from King Marellan is not his… typical means of doing things.”
“Which means what exactly?” Jaw feathering, I forced myself to push down the thoughts of grabbing my sword and slicing the cunt’s head clean off her body as soon as she released me.
“Allegiance.”
The three syllables were tainted with corruption; genuine allegiance hadn’t existed since the king took the throne.
I chuckled. “After all the time I’ve served that monster, you believe you can convince me he is capable of anything close to allegiance?
King Marellan destroys anything that gets in his way.
He forces submission, he coerces decisions, and he sure as fuck doesn’t grant opportunity.
Perhaps, if I were some simpleton who hadn’t been leashed by his ownership for the entirety of my fucking life, you could’ve had me fooled. ”
Her brows lifted, a humored frown taking over her features. “And perhaps, if you were some simpleton, you would believe that all of the king’s decisions are his own. But you aren’t that na?ve, are you, Caspian Vayne?”
The Other’s admittance solidified everything; their influence had not only seeped through the lands but also polluted the throne. They’d dug their taloned fingers into the minds of thousands, corrupting the decisions of our leaders and those in their respective hierarchies.
It is no wonder the true gods are stirring.
“I suppose you’ve got me there.” Mirroring her expression, I continued. “So… What is your name?”
“Sorva,” she replied lustfully, as if her influence would somehow entrap my mind like she had everyone else’s.
“Right, Sorva. Tell me, would you leverage the fragility of humanity to your advantage, to seek the world you are wishing to create, even if it meant destroying everything else in the process?”
“I believe you know the answer.”
Shrugging, I kept my demeanor casual. “I suppose I do. But if that were the case, that would inherently place you in a position of malice, which isn’t divine. Am I wrong?”
“You certainly aren’t,” she grinned, as if my prodding was enthralling her.
“So, if you aren’t the gods we should be worshipping, if you rid our world of them, then what are you exactly?”
The merriment of her expression vanished, a darkness taking over.
“Do you truly believe you are wiser than a deity? Did you think you would be able to manipulate me into giving answers simply because you share blood with a god?” She huffed, pivoting on her heel as she lifted one finger.
“You may be the son of Elaros, Caspian Vayne, but your father is only as strong as his other half. A piece of himself that he will never find again. And as much as I would love to enlighten you on the tales of that war, we are leaving.”
“You’re the son—”
Cutting Saphhira off, the goddess spoke once more. “Your… significant other should be on the shore awaiting your arrival. I would suggest running to her if you wish to lay claim to your prize.”
The pressure pinning me to the ground lessened, and I drew in a steadying breath.
Planting my palm against the cobblestone street, I pushed myself up.
Once standing, I offered one glance to Sapphira before following the sinister being to the ship and back to Serevalen—to King Marellan, to my old life.
“You'd better hide, Saph, because as soon as I have the opportunity, I will hunt you down. There is no happily ever after in your story anymore, not when you’re the reason this all happened. Not when you robbed me of my fucking freedom.”