40. Everett
Everett
The three strangers walked ahead of us as we crossed farther into the city, their gray robes whispering against the ground.
Everywhere I looked, gold and ember tones bled into our surroundings.
It was as if the entire city was a living, breathing flame against a black sky.
Spires shaped like tongues of fire, archways carved with winged figures, and runes that reminded me of the caves we just came from. Even the air itself thrummed with heat.
I had never seen anything like it.
The weight of where we were staggered into me—a thousand years of hidden history, a kingdom that shouldn’t exist, architecture and magic and life that predated everything I knew. It shouldn’t be possible, and yet…here we were.
People gathered on the streets to watch as we passed.
Every eye was on us—well, on Vera. Her wings stretched like a beacon, drawing the attention of passersby who stared with shock and reverence.
I shouldn’t have been surprised. If the legend was true, then these people had been here for a millennium.
This was their first glimpse of freedom, their first hope of returning to the world.
The city gravitated toward Vera as if it had been holding its breath for centuries and could finally exhale.
The savior. That was what the elderly man called her.
When she fluttered her wings, the flames made the street waver, like heat waves coming off a dark surface. I blinked, and it was gone.
The wonder of this kingdom slowly settled.
As we walked, my mind kept snagging on things I couldn’t explain.
The runes on the buildings flashed in the firelight, like magic was embedded in their ancient language.
The people gazed at us with such identical reverence that it set my teeth on edge.
Perhaps I was still anxious from what we’d just gone through.
Nearly dying several times and seeing Mortep again left me on edge.
I tried to shake the strange feeling. I was simply looking for problems where there were none yet, as I often did.
We turned a corner, and a magnificent palace came into view. The elderly man stopped walking and turned to face us, brandishing his robed arm. “Welcome to the Kingdom of Pyraeth.”
I nearly stumbled trying to take in the sight. Columns made of ivory stone led to an inner building with a gold-tipped dome so tall, it partially blocked the black sky. Glass windows lined the exterior. The air shimmered off them the way mist shimmered off the waves in Iluze.
Tessa leaned in closer to me and whispered, “How do you think they keep it so white?”
I pinched my lips together to stop from snorting. My shoulders relaxed a small amount. Leave it to Tessa to inject some levity into the atmosphere.
“Come,” the auburn-haired female said. “We have much to show you.”
Vera banished her phoenix wings. “Do you have someone who can help us, first?” she asked, gesturing to Odessa and me.
“A couple of us have been injured, and I don’t have anything to heal them.
” While Vera could perform healing spells, Alchemy required specific herbs and charms—things found in nature—to power the spell.
The white-haired, bearded man glanced at the scrapes on Odessa’s arm, partially covered by my shirt. His eyebrows rose, but then he smiled. “Of course, Lightbringer.”
Vera narrowed her eyes. “Why do you keep calling me that?”
“We will have plenty of time to explain. For now, let’s get your companions to the healing wing,” the female said.
“My name is Vera,” she said, shifting on her feet. “Just—just Vera.” She quickly introduced the rest of us.
The bearded man bowed low. “I am Arcadia. This is Julius,” he motioned to the tall man with brown hair, “and Maeve.” The female smiled at us. “We are the High Elders of Pyraeth. We oversee the kingdom and keep harmony among the citizens.”
As he spoke, we turned down a hall with a side wall made entirely of glass, granting a view to the city beyond. A long, crimson rug adorned the length of the floor, and when we passed under a marble archway, more corridors appeared.
The opulence was eye-catching, but what amazed me more was the magic.
Everywhere we looked, servants and courtiers displayed their magic in everyday tasks.
One maid had shadows in the shape of a hand holding a feather duster high up in the chandeliers.
A man walking by flicked his wrist and sent a stream of firelight to a candle in its sconce.
A swooshing sound flitted close to my ear, and I jerked away, only to see a hummingbird with a note tucked in its beak fly by.
In midair, it shifted into a young boy, who handed the note to Arcadia, then shifted back into a bird and took off.
This magic…it was ours. Veridian. The same magic I saw every day back home. How was that possible? How could they have Veridian magic?
As the people’s gazes fell on us, they slowly stopped their tasks, lips parting in wonder. Whispers floated around us.
“Did you hear the rumors?”
“Is it true?”
“Have we found the Lightbringer?”
The excitement was palpable. People strained to get a look, more and more servants appearing from other hallways. The way their eyes tracked Vera made the hair on the back of my neck rise in unease.
High Elder Maeve ushered us inside an open door to the left.
We all stepped into a healer’s wing. Cabinets lined the walls, with cots separated by sheets of fabric and shelves with vials of ointments, tinctures, and bandages.
An older woman with graying hair stood at a cabinet, grinding something in a mortar.
She whispered a few words, and the mixture ignited, smoke rising from inside.
“You’re an Alchemist,” I blurted before I could stop myself.
The healer glanced up, jumping when she saw the High Elders, and gave me a strange look. “I’m sorry, a what?”
Arcadia simply chuckled. “Don’t mind them, Aramanth. Our guests have much to learn. I would like to introduce you to Vera.” Arcadia smoothly slid in front of the rest of us and urged Vera forward.
The healer gasped. “Are the rumors true? Are you—are you the Lightbringer?” Aramanth whispered, clutching Vera’s hands.
“I—” Vera glanced at Arcadia. “I guess?”
Aramanth burst into tears, then fell to her knees at Vera’s feet. Vera looked alarmed, carefully extricating herself from the woman’s grasp. Aramanth put two fingers to her heart and lifted them in the air. A stream of light flowed from the tips of her fingers.
An Alchemist and a Lightbender? Who were these people?
“Vera’s companion is in need of a healer,” Arcadia said, pointing at Odessa.
Aramanth righted herself and wiped the tears from her cheeks.
She beckoned Odessa forward, then took her injured arm with my bloodied shirt still wrapped around it.
She undid the bandage, exposing four claw marks covered in blood, dirt, and bits of rock.
After cleaning it, she muttered another spell, and Odessa gasped as the jagged edges softened and knit themselves together, leaving faint pink streaks in their wake.
“That’s miraculous,” Odessa breathed out. “Thank you, ma’am.”
Arcadia clapped his hands once. “Now, I think it’s best that we go somewhere private. I’m sure the last few hours have been troublesome for you,” he said, inclining his head to all of us. “We can retire to our inner chambers to speak.”
“Before we do, do you mind healing someone else?” She glanced at me. “Your arm, Everett.”
I held up a hand. “It’s fine. I don’t—”
“Everett,” she said in her no-nonsense voice.
I sighed and stepped forward, gingerly shrugging off the jacket Starke had given me.
Aramanth held my injured arm with gentle fingers and whispered a spell.
The injury instantly healed, the skin sewing itself back together seamlessly, and my shoulders fell in relief. “Thank you.”
She dipped her head low. “Anything for a friend of the Lightbringer.”
Squaring her shoulders, Vera turned to Arcadia. “Alright, let’s go talk.”
“Make yourselves comfortable,” Maeve said, gesturing to the plethora of crimson couches in the large study.
As usual, my gaze was drawn to ancient scrolls tucked into bookshelves against the wall.
More marble columns were spaced throughout the expanse, and at the back wall was a fireplace inlaid in a giant phoenix statue. A crown rested on its feathered head.
“Shall I call for some tea?” Arcadia asked.
“I don’t want tea, I want answers,” Vera said. I hid a smirk. She had never been one for pleasantries. I was honestly surprised she’d gone this long without shoving someone off a balcony.
“We fought a kraken, a siren, and an army of skeletons to get here, then my blood opened some portal that sucked us into a whirlpool. I want to know where we are,” she continued, ticking off each word on her fingers, “who you are, and how we can get back home.”
“I understand you have many questions.” Arcadia steepled his hands in front of his beard. “We have longed for this day our entire existence. We are blessed by your presence, daughter, and—”
“Oh, for the love of the Fates,” Tessa said with an exasperated sigh, plopping onto one of the couches. “Just kiss her feet already and give us a straight answer.”
Julius looked down his nose at Tessa, not bothering to hide his reproachful expression. Arcadia’s jaw ticked slightly. “Of course,” he said. “I assume you know the legends of our kingdom, given you were able to locate us?”
Odessa cleared her throat. “Yes, Your Grace. I grew up hearing stories of this kingdom, how the Fates created it and had children with the humans. But…” She glanced between the Elders with hesitation.
“But in the legend, your ancestors became prideful and power-hungry. They lost favor with the Fates and were banished from the rest of the world.”
At the mention of the Fates, the countenance of all three Elders darkened. “That is one version of the story, yes,” Julius said with a scowl. “Pyraeth was nearly erased from history. Our entire existence was twisted by the Fates to fit the narrative that better served them.”
“Then tell us your version,” Vera said, crossing her arms.
“Very well.” Arcadia’s gaze stayed trained on hers. It was eerie, seeing the same golden eyes in every Pyraethi we came across. Before them, I had only seen it in Vera.
“You are right,” Arcadia started. “Pyraeth was the first kingdom created by the Fates.
They formed the land and the sea, then breathed their essence into it—a shadow spirit, it was called.
These shadow spirits became the first beings to inhabit Pyraeth.
The Fates took human form and came to the earth, procreating with the shadow beings and giving birth to creatures in their likeness: the first humans.
“But these were no ordinary humans. They were part Fate. They called themselves demithes, and they possessed great power—the very magic of the Fates themselves, manifesting in six potent forms. Darkness and light,” Arcadia began, holding out his palm.
A swirling ball of shadows formed, then burst into light.
“Power over both mind and nature,” he went on, and his light blanketed the ceiling, morphing into an illusion of a starry night’s sky.
When I looked back at the High Elder, he whispered into his hand.
Vines sprung to life along all the potted plants decorating the room, dancing and twisting up the walls.
“The ability to change.” As Arcadia spoke, Julius jumped into the air at his side.
His body contorted grotesquely into a thin figure, and brown, speckled scales erupted from his skin.
He landed on the floor as a thick cobra, his body coiling in on itself as he lifted his rounded head.
Odessa jumped back with a screech and planted herself firmly behind Kieran.
Arcadia snapped his fingers and suddenly disappeared, only to reappear on the other side of the room. “And the ability to move forward.”
More uneasiness writhed to the surface. I recognized every single power he just single-handedly displayed. It was our magic. Shadow wielding, lightbending, illusions, Alchemy, shifting, striding.
It was disconcerting, hearing the inception of our same magic, but told from a vastly different history.
We’d been taught Veridians were the only beings to have magic.
Our history recorded that over three hundred years ago, the Fates granted the Veridian Empire their power, but separated it by bloodline—each province in the empire received one kind of magic.
But here was this hidden kingdom, far older than our empire, that possessed this power long before us.
They were descended directly from the Fates themselves.
Were Veridians simply an experiment to the Fates?
A second chance after their failed creation?
These demithes—the half human, half Fates—had the exact same magic we did. But instead of being confined to one type, as I was, they had all of them. All six.
Just like Vera.
Her magic had been a source of pain all her life.
Mortep and Scarven desired it, and their infatuation devoured her.
They took and took and took until there was nothing left.
Vera’s connection with these new people was impossible to deny—they thought she was a Lightbringer, whatever that meant.
Some long-lost answer that had finally been found.
And while they raised her up as a savior, I couldn’t help but wonder…
how long would it be until they wanted to use her, too?
Vera and I exchanged a look. I expected to see my own doubt mirrored in her eyes, but instead, I saw intrigue.
She slowly turned back to Arcadia and lifted her hand, letting her shadows stretch across the room until they wrapped around him.
He released his own magic, and they intertwined in the air like old friends.
Vera watched in a daze as their magic fed off each other.
When she let out a breath, her whole chest moved with it, like a weight being dragged from her lungs.
“This is amazing,” she murmured. “I’ve never met anyone who can do what I do.”
Arcadia crossed the room in swift strides. “You’re with us now, daughter. You are not alone.” He patted her hand, both of their shadow magics sinking back into themselves. “You are home, Vera of Pyraeth.”
She froze. Her eyes narrowed slightly, scouring over him with that guarded, skeptical look of hers. The entire room stilled, waiting with baited breath for her to act. I knew my Vera. She rarely trusted easily, and I silently begged her to share my wariness. To be careful.
But then she smiled at him. It was small—a simple curve of her lip, hesitant but hopeful, transforming her entire face.
With that single look, my stomach sank.