30. Chapter 30 #3
I flitted my gaze to Peiro. His silver eyes swirled as he continued to lean back in his chair, ever stoic and observant, taking in the conversations around him.
He hadn’t said much of anything outside of the small exchange at the start of dinner, but the force around him was a heavy presence for me.
A comfort. A calm. A home.
He never broke his gaze from the conversation but a small hint of a smile crept up the side of his face that only I could see. My heart rate steadied to a slower rhythm, earning me a satisfied look from him.
“What did the bastard want?” Ora began. “What were his reasons for this treason he committed?” Each word seethed out of her mouth, her teeth practically drawn back into a snarl. “Has anyone even heard from Ariadne lately? What are her movements?”
Paige leaned in. “All I know is that he was wanting support in efforts for Dokvalon. What the extent of that plan was, I’m not sure.
He tried visiting Loamil Manor a week after I arrived but I met him at the border and told him to fuck off.
Ariadne hasn’t been heard from since, and my communication with the High Seven Temple has been cut off. ”
“She has hidden in plain sight and has clearly been setting pieces in motion for years,” Fyom cut in. “She’s smart and shouldn’t be underestimated; that’s a given.”
“It’s been a few weeks since Vovias died,” I said, looking at Ora. “Soon we should be hearing whispers of who will take over The Melted Forge. Paige”—I cut my glance to her—“will you keep your ear alert so we can see what alliance can be made?”
Paige nodded in approval. “As you ask.” She turned her attention to Ora next.
“Not that this needs to be said, but I’ll say it anyway so everyone here is a witness.
” She looked each of us in the eyes before turning back to Ora and stood.
“Assuming you will take your mother’s titles, Queen Aurora Endromeon of Gria, Controller of the Sun and Commander of the First Ray of the Grian Army, Highest Majesty of the Realm, I will support your claim to the throne and my people will answer to any call you give them. Mark my words.”
She was right—the words didn’t need to be spoken aloud, but a sense of relief washed over me, releasing a fraction of the weighty burden. Knowing that my sister had at least one confirmed ally in the mix was enough to stoke the fire of my hope.
Watching reassurance wash over Ora was enough, too, as she tearfully smiled at us all before reaching for Sury’s hand and held on tight.
“Thank you,” Ora said, her voice surprisingly small.
We drank our wine in silence. Our thoughts were heavy with the situation our realm faced.
A presumable prophecy that held a mysterious connection to my sister and I.
Had our parents known of it? Was this what had led to their possible murder that turned into a coup against Ora?
Then there was collusion with the neighboring realm that never sought peace, but only destruction.
And how could we protect our people if the very magic meant to protect us has only weakened further, allowing in more of those vile urthens and unliving Black Raiders?
Fyom cleared his throat. “We know from Wielding history that the Wielding itself is broken; the balance of it has shattered. From what we know, the giants never intended for the illicitus to be involved, hence the repercussions this can pose if Wielded.” I shifted uncomfortably in my seat as I thought of Thuvina’s curse and flicked my eyes to Peiro before looking back at Fyom.
“The ritual imbuing must have caused more imbalance at our borders—this is the only sensible explanation I can hypothesize. When the sisters completed the ritual at the Rising Rock, this helped the process to restore, but…”
“Again with the buts.” Sury shook his head.
“But Wielding is still in its weaker state and not able to heal the land like it once did. Maybe that’s what the prophecy around the keys seems to suggest—well, the portions I’ve been able to translate.”
“And that’s why you came all this way, correct?” Paige lifted a solitary brow.
Fyom took a deep breath, failing to hide his annoyance. “As much as I hate to admit this, you’ve always been able to translate the old Feodean runes much better than I and, well, you’re the only one we can put our current trust in.”
“Finally, Proud Fyom admits he’s bad at something. If only our mother and father could hear this straight from the horse’s mouth. What do I need to translate?”
Fyom leaned back to pull a piece of paper out of his pocket and placed the opened page in front of his sister.
Paige produced a pair of small reading glasses from a hidden pocket within her skirts and adjusted them on her nose.
Her eyebrows raised in surprise. “Oh. These are Ancient Feodean. See the accents on this here? That’s a tell that these were written before the Original War.
And you’re sure these are the correct runes? ”
“Copied them down myself,” Fyom replied.
“Give me some time to look these over, but I will admit that you’re right—it appears we have a prophecy on our hands.”