CHAPTER 16 #2
“... I meant to do that.”
“You most certainly did not,” Riven says.
Brother Tolum crouches to gather the papers, muttering under his breath as I kneel to help him.
“Thank you,” he says, accepting the last page from me before his gaze catches on my hair again.
“I apologize. It's simply…” He hesitates. “I’ve spent years reading about the silver-haired queen and forgotten bloodlines. I never expected someone with silver hair to walk through the archive. I mean—people do talk, but… nevermind.” He squirms uncomfortably.
“Well,” I deadpan, “I’m delighted to have exceeded expectations.”
A laugh escapes him before he can stop it. “What can I help you with, Lady Tarethyn?”
“I want to know about the First Queen.”
The smile slips from his face. Behind him, an older monk in gray robes looks up from a nearby desk.
“Brother Tolum.”
The single warning is enough to make the younger scholar straighten.
“I was only answering a question, Brother Gustav.”
“So answer it wisely.”
Brother Tolum glances between the man named Brother Gustav and me before lowering his voice.
“There are... very few records about Queen Seraphine.” He hesitates. “The ones that survived don’t always agree.”
My curiosity sharpens immediately.
“I'd like to see them.”
The young scholar disappears between two towering shelves before returning with a brittle scroll tied in faded blue ribbon.
“I don't think this will tell you what you're looking for,” he admits, carefully placing it on the table between us. “But... it’s one of the oldest surviving references we have.”
Brother Gustav appears beside him, folding his hands into the sleeves of his robes.
“Brother Tolum has an unfortunate habit of digging where he should not.”
Brother Tolum offers an entirely unapologetic smile. “It’s in the Old Language,” he says, gently unrolling the parchment. The ink has faded to a rusty brown, curling across the page in elegant symbols that make something stir at the back of my mind. They feel... familiar.
Too familiar.
“I can't read it,” I murmur before I can stop myself.
“No one can,” Brother Tolum replies. “Not completely.”
He traces a careful finger beneath one line.
“The language predates modern Solaris by centuries. Most of our translations are... educated guesses.”
“Ah. How comforting.”
“I thought so, too.”
Brother Gustav sighs but Brother Tolum ignores him.
“This passage appears in several fragmented texts.” He glances between us before continuing. “Every version is damaged, and none of them agree perfectly, but the central idea remains consistent.”
His voice grows quieter as he reads from the notes scribbled in the margins.
When shadow devours the land and the gods fall silent, one born beneath forgotten light shall awaken what was lost.
The Cursebreaker shall mend what was broken.
The sleeping land shall breathe again.
Silence settles over the table as I stare at the words that I can’t read.
“They think…” I begin slowly, “...someone can actually end the curse?”
Brother Tolum shrugs. “Some scholars believe it’s a metaphor.”
“And the others?”
“They believe Solaris was never meant to remain cursed forever.”
My heart gives one heavy beat. “A cure,” I whisper.
Brother Gustav’s expression remains unreadable.
“A possibility,” he corrects gently.
“Those are different things.”
“They are.”
I look back at the faded symbols, unable to shake the strange pull I feel toward them.
“...Has anyone ever found the Cursebreaker?”
Brother Gustav rolls the scroll closed with careful hands.
“No.”
The answer is simple. Certain.
“And until someone does,” he says quietly, “it remains only a prophecy.”
No one speaks after that.
Riven thanks the two scholars, and Cadrin gestures toward the door before I can ask another question. Apparently my allotted educational detour has come to an end.
The walk back through the palace is strangely quiet.
For once, Cadrin has nothing to say which is great, because I don’t particularly enjoy the sound of his voice.
The prophecy follows me through every corridor.
A Cursebreaker. Someone who could heal the cursed land and end centuries of darkness. It sounds impossible.
Then again… so does healing a garden that has been dead for centuries.
We stop outside my chamber and I turn to face the two guards. “What I'm about to ask is probably treason.”
Cadrin sighs. “That is rarely an encouraging way to begin a sentence. Please don—”
I interrupt him before he has the chance to finish. “I want you both to pretend this little trip never happened.”
Riven’s mouth twitches. “You’re asking the Shadow Guard to keep secrets from the king?”
“No, I'm asking the Shadow Guard not to volunteer information to the king. There’s a difference!”
“Those are two very different requests,” Riven says, smiling mischievously.
“They are indeed.” I smile, nodding my head in agreement.
Cadrin folds his arms. “His Majesty will know.”
“He doesn't have to know from you.” I poke at his chest, narrowing my eyes on him.
Riven studies me for a long moment before glancing at Cadrin. “I didn't hear anything today.”
Cadrin groans, running an exasperated hand down his face. “Riven.”
“What? I have a poor memory. That’s not my fault!” Riven throws his arms up like Cadrin just accused him of murder.
I can’t help but grin.
“You have an excellent memory,” Cadrin says, narrowing his eyes at him.
“I do,” Riven agrees, nodding. “It's unfortunate.”
Despite himself, Cadrin huffs a quiet laugh.
I shake my head, laughing. “You two are terrible guards.”
“We're excellent guards,” Riven corrects. “We’re merely selective conversationalists.”
A smile tugs at my lips. “Thank you.”
Neither of them answers. They simply bow as I step inside my room and the door clicks shut behind me.
For a long moment I stand there staring at nothing but thinking of everything.
A prophecy.
A Cursebreaker.
A cure.
I don't know why those words refuse to leave me alone. But for the first time since arriving in Andell… I find myself hoping they’re true. Because if they are… I might find the sun one day.