52. The Damned and Disgraced
The Damned and Disgraced
CASPIAN
As we drifted toward the shoreline, Rohen and I moved to the bow, expecting to spot at least a handful of dockhands as well as a variety of men disembarking from their lengthy sails.
But with our attention fixed on the port, all that welcomed us was a nightmarish hell—one I had feared would come to fruition the moment Sorva completed her ritual in the belly of the palace.
Flames climbed hungrily from rooftop to rooftop, devouring homes and market fronts until they collapsed in a shower of ash and ember.
Thick columns of black smoke tainted the sky, blotting out the sun and leaving the Capital cloaked in a grim, suffocating haze.
Even from the ship, I could feel the heat rolling across Ellira’s waters, carrying with it the bitter stench of burning timber and cinder.
Overhead, wingbeats thundered, and I squinted into the cloud of desolation to decipher which creature they belonged to. Spotting a shadow, my vision fought to focus. At first, I thought the sudden plume belonged to nothing more than smolder, but then it unfurled.
Unlike any of the monstrous beings from the Other realm, its neck was impossibly long.
Snaking through the air with sickening grace, it ended where a head crowned with jagged black spines began.
Two flaring maroon eyes searched the village below with an intelligence that chilled me to the bone.
It harbored a sentience, a comprehension of how to decimate while simultaneously inflicting as much anguish as possible.
Jaws parting, rows of needle-like teeth gleamed amongst its inferno, their prevalence more for shredding through enemies than simply eating.
Its body was lean, almost skeletal, as though every inch of flesh had been stripped away to leave behind muscle stretched taut over bone.
Ragged, blood-red wings spread wide enough to cast entire streets below into shadow, their thin membranes glowing whenever the fires below pulsed against them.
Each intentional flap stirred the smoke into great columns that roared across the rooftops.
It did not roar because it did not need to, but the silence it carried was somehow worse, broken only by the crackle of snapping wood and the screams of heightened panic rising from below.
It circled lazily above the palace as though admiring its own destruction.
Folding its wings flush against its body, it plummeted with horrifying precision.
Head lowering toward the village, its throat ignited with a molten orange.
Frozen, I watched as its maw opened to exhale a blazing river of annihilation.
Its flames struck rooftops with such force that the still-standing buildings imploded, debris and structural members scattering as if they were made from nothing more than parchment.
None of my men reached for weapons. Instead, we stared, and for the first time since I’d taken to the sea, I understood what true horror felt like. We had not merely sailed into a village under attack. We’d arrived at the hunting grounds of what appeared to be a dragon.
“Holy gods…” Rohen whispered from beside me, fear slithering between each syllable.
“What the fuck is that thing?” Turning to glance at Syoran, I caught sight of Kael, who seemed far more ready to answer.
“Based on the ancient texts that I’ve read, it looks like a wyvern,” the former prince muttered. “My guess is Sorva drew inspiration from our lands and created her own entities to match.”
“We haven’t seen wyvern on Wraelira in centuries,” Rohen countered, her emerald eyes catching the potent sheen of the flames beyond. “At least according to shared word. Maybe it has to do with the veil?”
“Maybe.” Stepping up to the gunwale, Ignis glanced between us.
“The once-worshipped beings left this side of the realm long ago, as many of them were Shifters who migrated between Narvendor and Wraelira. Once conflict began to simmer in the mirrored continent beyond the veil, they departed in hopes of aiding in the war. Which, as you are all aware, led to the eradication of a large portion of our race and sparked the feud between the Damned and the Others. The latter have drawn inspiration from our ways of living, including the creatures deemed divine.”
“So what you’re saying is they’re really shitty at coming up with their own ideas.” Syoran raked his fingers through his hair, quick to thread it back in a braid before securing it with his preferred band. “I suppose that gives us an advantage then, doesn’t it?”
Rohen’s head snapped in his direction. “What are you suggesting?”
“Well, everyone and everything has a weakness. Even those who believe themselves to be impenetrable have soft spots.” Smirk spreading, he fixed his attention on the white-haired Fae.
“Considering the bountiful knowledge we have on board, it doesn’t seem impossible to conjure up an understanding of the monstrosities Sorva has birthed, especially when she was far too power-starved to come up with a single unique idea on her own. ”
“Do wyverns have a weakness?” I asked, meeting Ignis’ all-white eyes.
“The membranes of their wings are thin, and while their scales are thick, there is a small patch at the base of their neck that remains open to a detrimental attack.” He paused for a moment before adding, “It’s an elemental, which means its gravest frailty is water.”
Shifting, everyone looked to Rohen.
Auburn waves billowing in the light breeze, the oranges and yellows of dawn enveloped the sky, serving as her backdrop.
Clad in my preferred green linen, the excess material flowed from her in waves, serving as not only a reminder of the promise I made to protect her, but also the domain she was set to rule.
Emerald irises meeting mine, a fleck of uncertainty lingered within them, but all she knew she was capable of quickly replaced it.
“We can have a little water fight,” she crooned, her cadence just as soothing as deadly. “I like the idea of a loud and proud arrival, considering Sorva remains the plague that rots our lands. We can call it a cleansing.”
Kael peered at me from my left. “What about you, Caspian? Has your father granted you the ability to draw upon his power?”
Elaros, the god I had yet to hear from since I lashed out on Malrik’s ship.
“I’ve tapped into it before, but his abilities are complex—starved shadows gluttonous enough to consume until nothing remains. As a whole, they’re fairly easy to wield. But when they begin feasting, I become just as ravenous.” Sighing, I scratched my beard. “The only problem is—”
“Is?” That all-too-familiar voice chimed in, alleviation flooding me as he brushed against my subconscious. “I do not believe we stand before any issues.”
“We can discuss the intricacies of your lies later,” I stated through our bond, though my merriment at his return betrayed me. “As for now, the prophecy awaits, and with our approach to Serevalen, there remain far too many possibilities. Do you have any insight?”
“Do I have insight? You speak to me as if I have not lived for millennia,” Elaros shot back, his amusement far too audible.
“The creature soaring the skies overhead belongs to Sorva. As a group, they are called Vel’kharum, but each is individually named and bonded with a rider.
In this case, that is Vorak, and he has dedicated himself to Sorva. ”
“Fuck.” What was meant to stay internal slipped out, and everyone turned to me. “Elaros,” I clarified, tapping the side of my head. “The creature above shares a direct bond to Sorva, which means—”
A venomous snarl cut me off, laughter entangling with it as Vorak landed on the edge of the nearby cliffside without warning of his approach.
“Pitiful Divari, disgraced spawns from unworthy humans the gods elected to chase rather than lead. Your essences are damned, fates foretold centuries ago, and you still elect to give chances to the very divinity that damned you.”
“Of course it talks,” Syoran groaned, his annoyance palpable. “Why wouldn’t it fucking talk?”
My father’s caress returned, his words urgent.
“There are layers to the prophecy, yes. Have we spoken in white lies and half-truths? Also yes. But our love for you does not diminish when the sun sets, or its light illuminates the shadows. As a weaver of fate, the decisions we are required to make never come easy and often carry sacrifices that go beyond the simplicities that would exist if we allowed this realm to fall.” A presence bloomed behind me, almost strong enough that I became convinced he had manifested.
A hand settled on my shoulder, and Elaros continued, “Have we put each of you through trials and tribulations to test the strength of your souls? Yes. Have we harbored deep regrets from the anguish you’ve had to endure?
Absolutely. We have chosen you because that is where we stand the greatest chance at saving the realm we all came to love, a realm we desire for you to bear witness to without the constraints of the Others’ falsifications. ”
“Okay, understood, but why lie to us? Why try to save face when you have actively and willingly used us as some type of bargaining chip?”
Elaros exhaled. “Your life is not one I would toy with, but I understand your frustrations. To answer your question, it’s because of the humans with whom we shared beds.
Your mother was a force to be reckoned with, a capable witch with summoning abilities far beyond this realm.
Because of her greatness, when faced with violence from the Others and having to select only one of my Children to survive, I chose you without an ounce of hesitation.
It is not just the lineage you share with me, but the pieces of your mother that you carry.
That is why I decided you were the most suitable fit to fight this war and win. ”
“But how can you be so certain?” I posed, the weight of the query far heavier than a mere answer.
“You have thrust me into a battlefield without knowing whether or not I will come out on top. You have taken a chance on one of your—I don’t even know how many—offspring, hoping I am suitable enough to do this for you.
There was no extension of autonomy in the situation; you just planted me there and hoped I would like it. ”
“I hear what you are saying, I do, and all you feel regarding what has been taken from you is granted. I just need you to know that I chose you because you are and have always been the strongest, most mentally agile, and well-versed Child I have.” There was a brief pause before he continued, “I am not the only one who has watched you grow. My counterparts have as well, and because of that, we often discussed the potential of all of our Children and the etched-in-fate prophecy. Our concerns were discussed, and we all agreed that this… all of this was necessary to ensure not only the safety of the realms, but all of you.”
“So you’re admitting it then. It’s just luck of the draw, a game of chance because our destinies have already been woven?”
“Only partially, for there will always remain outside influences capable of changing the course of everything, of completely derailing all we’ve worked to protect.
” When I didn’t react the way he wished, he said, “You were stripped of your autonomy, and believe me, I wish that weren’t the case.
But, in doing so, we also offered an equal barter—our lives for your successes.
And when you fuse with us, absorbing the essence of all we were and all we became, you will command and wield in whatever way you deem fit.
We offered ourselves up because we are wholly confident in your capabilities of dismantling the Other Realm before it fuses and transforms everything into a corrupt dystopia far more tainted than what has already come to fruition. ”
Inhaling through my nose, I tried to rid my mind of his admission and justification.
Everything Ignis had said was true; the gods had used us to play their game of fate with the Others.
But just as that was undeniable, so was the care behind each coax along our bond and every answered call.
Not only were they setting the fate of the future in our hands while handing off their Children with little choice, but they were also driving the nail into their own coffin.
With my devotion set on cradling the world our parents wanted, I blinked a handful of times as I settled on Rohen. Reaching for her, I closed my fingers around her wrist and tugged her into me.
If Sorva wanted our souls, she’d have to fight tooth and nail to get her hands on those I loved. I did not care about myself or the risks that awaited me, not when I harbored enough rage to carve through canyons.
So, as I lifted my head to the wyvern, that spike of darkness seeped into my veins, and I allowed myself to free-fall.
The second I stepped off the edge, Elaros was there, just as he’d always been.
Catching me as I sank into the abyssal depths of my essence and every ounce of my shadowed path, I walked the tightrope between this reality and the next.
It was about far more than saving myself; it was about choosing not to cave in the face of adversity.
Shadows leeched from my fingertips, painting the deck with a promise of decimation.
In leaning into Elaros’ blackened edges, I was opening myself up to vulnerability as well, a concept I’d convinced myself I’d never experience.
But with Rohen beside me, anything was possible, and there was no other I longed to be with.
She was everything I needed and more, and that alone was enough to make our damned existence worth it.
With a malicious chuckle, my utterance came as a fusing of voices, each chime louder than the last. Eyes fixed on Vorak, I spoke with an intensity I knew I’d gotten from my father. “We are not disgraced, and you’re about to learn exactly why.”