Chapter 27
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
NERISSA
I fear his desperation to protect this land is driving his decisions.
– Undelivered correspondence from Khato, intended for Nerissa Ravindra.
Nerissa – The Vael Lacrima, Island of Kayj
No. No, no, no. He cannot be dead. Aquila cannot be dead.
A wild hysteria rose as I staggered over dead warriors and through the decimated crater.
I stumbled, catching myself on a corpse, and my hand slipped against the shredded back of a warrior.
My body was numb as his coagulated blood coated my fingers, and I rushed to where Aquila’s massive form lay crumpled in the wreckage of the goddesses’ attack.
My hands slipped over his bloody feathers as I reached him. My heart restarted and banged against my ribs. Aquila’s dark beak was open, his eyes closed, but as I edged my way around him, crawling closer, I could see the slow rise and fall of his chest.
“SELVINA!”
My voice scraped through the air like broken glass. The scream wrenched from my lips, and my breath came out in short huffs. My urgency and panic slammed into the Nivis Bellator in a hurried desperation, calling her to me. He has to be okay.
I ran my hands over his coppery feathers, searching for the wound, when the crack of tumbling rocks drew my attention. Selvina rushed toward us, her blue power swirling around her in little wisps of sparkles and settling on an arm she cradled.
A plea hung on my lips as she tripped over the rubble, finally reaching us.
Her white brows tilted up as she scanned the giant hawk.
A dark shadow flew overhead, Selvina’s caeluma cutting through the smoky crater and landing on the other side of Aquila’s form.
White feathers ruffled as Nishanth splayed her wings, a wave of concern pushing over me from the snowy hawk.
Selvina and Nishanth locked eyes as they held some private conversation, and my breathing stopped.
“Step back,” Selvina commanded.
I scurried back, my hands clenched together as Nishanth flared her snowy white wings to the side. Selvina held her hands out before her, a brightness lining her form as white as her hawk caeluma, their power rallying.
Crystal blue light danced from the tips of her fingers and lingered with the matching power streaming from Nishanth’s feathers. Their power twisted together before landing on top of Aquila’s form.
A wave of fear, of pain, reached me as Aquila’s consciousness reared, and I clenched my hands to keep from sprinting to him. I sent my own comfort back … Safety, love, and relief.
The blue, glowing Ramadiel power settled into his feathers as Selvina and Nishanth cut off their power. I resisted the urge to slam my body against his, to wrap my arms around his soft neck and bury my face in his feathers.
Instead, I straightened, my shoulders relaxing as I turned to Selvina.
“Thank—”
But she’d turned, her cloak swishing as she stepped away from Aquila’s healed form and climbing out of the debris. Nishanth followed, rising into the air and letting out a heart-wrenching screech, the notes floating through the air in an agonizing cry.
I pivoted, scanning the bodies around us. Bright blood glowed against several large mounds of bear carcasses. Elven bodies littered the ground beside them, but Selvina strode right past them.
Dead then.
Emotions threatened to rise at the realization, at the fallen soldiers.
My soldiers.
A crushing weight pressed against my chest, and I struggled to fully inhale.
I’d failed again. And this time, I hadn’t just let creatures through…
I’d let the goddesses in. They were in the Realm of Vael, and they were coming for Lyvia.
They were after the Transcindiel power, and if Tynan was to be believed, they’d come for the rest of us.
How could I let this happen? How the hell were we going to—
A spine-splitting scream tore across the air as the smoke began to settle. Aquila lifted himself into the air and scanned the demolished crater. His eyes opened behind my own as he cast his sight to me.
The crater was eerily still, and Aquila tracked the slow movements of Selvina as she strode through the wreckage to where Kresida knelt over a small body…
Oh gods.
I ripped my consciousness back and sprinted across the crater, hurtling over demolished rock as Kresida’s pained wail rose through the smoke. She hunched over a small, unmoving form. Her dark skin peeked through the rips in her leathers as her back rose and fell in shaky breaths.
Cracked spectacles rested just beyond the tips of the dead elf’s thin fingers, and an unyielding vice gripped my chest. I slowed, and a numbness crawled over my body as I took the last steps to reach her.
I crumpled to the ground, my knees barking in pain as they hit the sharp stone, and I dragged my hand to Carina’s.
“Sobraen,” I moaned, a surge of pain clogging my throat as I looked upon the lifeless face of my cousin.
Kresida’s sob broke through the silence that stretched, and an intense burning hit me behind the eyes.
How could I have let this happen?
The question punched forward in challenge, an icy blow against my inner flames.
A lifetime of regret hovered over the memories that lunged.
I’d hated her for the longest time. I’d hated her for simply having the wrong mother.
I’d met her cautious glances with sneers and threats, and I’d only had the last few months to make up for it.
Even then, I had failed. Had I ever welcomed her into my life? My nature toward her had merely morphed from vicious to indifferent. She was so smart, so fierce, so strong. She’d risen from meek, ignored princess to a leader of the Vael. To someone I’d follow, to someone I’d bend a knee for.
Carina’s Ravindra green eyes were dull against the hazy sky. Her brown hair was caked in blood, and a long smear of it plastered against her cheek. Liquid formed on my lower lids, and I blinked, a large drop plopping down on the limp, filthy hand I held.
How could I have let her down? How could I have treated her for so long like she was nothing, like she wasn’t my cousin, my sobraen? A soul-ripping swell of regret and pain slammed into me.
Kresida’s cry ripped through the air again, and I flinched, the sound of her pain amplifying my own.
“I’m so sorry,” Selvina said softly from behind.
I waited for the touch of her emotions, for her to try to reach a tendril of feeling down our Bellator bond, but none came. I swallowed in relief, certain I couldn’t handle anyone else’s emotions while mine spun out of control. I blinked through a tear as I looked up at her.
Her gaze dipped, and she turned toward her caeluma.
Aquila’s arrival scattered the lingering dust and smoke. Carina’s dusty brown hair flitted up from the sides as he landed. I gripped Kresida’s shoulders as I pulled her upright and coaxed her onto Aquila’s back before I climbed up behind.
Aquila gently unfurled his long talons and wrapped them around Carina’s small form. He lifted us into the sky, and we flew back to the Onyx Tower, leaving the Vael Lacrima unguarded, carrying the limp body of the Princess of Lotrennia.
Deep shadows stretched below my eyes as I stared into the ornate mirror hanging in the private room I occupied in the Onyx Tower.
I didn’t often look at myself. There was too much truth in my eyes, too many scars, too many regrets.
Wrinkles set between my narrowed brows. Only a couple of them disappeared when I forced my face to relax.
What was I doing here? What was the point in guarding the gate if the Embodied that used it to enter our world could wipe out an entire company of highly trained elven soldiers? Wipe out a mystic…
Emotions surged, the hot arrival of tears threatening to form. A wet sheen coated my eyes, the small bud of liquid blurring the view of my face…blurring the truth that I was not strong enough to stop them—that every single person I’d come to love would fall at the hands of the gods.
The weakness escaped in a large tear that drew a dark line down my dirty cheek.
Rage twisted in my chest, and I screamed as I slammed my fist into the mirror, the sharp bite of glass digging into the edge of my hand.
My face contorted as the mirror shattered, shards of glass spiderwebbing across the ornate wall piece.
I crashed my fist into it again, and again, until I forced every damning piece of reflective glass from the mirror and no longer gazed at the failure looking back at me.
Breath heaved from my lungs, and I let my fist fall. Warm blood dripped from the gashes in the side of my hand and plopped onto the cold stone floor, the sound loud in my mind. Dark, twisting designs crept along the black walls.
I fucking hated this place.
White flames blazed in my chest as I imagined burning the entire Onyx Tower to the ground. I’d never forget Lyvia’s state when we came for her here… Her torn dress, the ripped bodice, the wild fear in her face. Cyril’s attack before she killed him…
My Soleia burned as I hurried up the stairs, needing an outlet for the emotions that spilled forward from the last few hours…the last months…the last years…
I sprinted up the tower, checking room after room and passing startled servants and ex-slaves until I finally found the door open to Cyril’s old chambers. My boot met the fresh wood of the new door, and it slammed against the wall.
I paused as I stepped inside. My flames licked a line of angry vengeance up my core. I gazed at the torture chamber that had masqueraded as a royal’s chambers for too long. Collars still hung above Cyril’s bed. That fucking monster.
Pressure built, and the Soleia rushed from my core and pushed against my skin.
Flames erupted from my hands, the sun itself setting fire to the interior of his room as I released the pent-up emotions.
I sent the controlled flames running along the edge of the room, engulfing the dead animal heads leering from the walls and incinerating the bed and furniture.