Chapter 19 #2
When the train came to a stop and Noah wished us goodbye, a nervous sensation worked its way up my spine.
Unlike the first time I visited, we weren’t driving straight to the TTC’s location.
This time we arrived right in the center of the city, and the difference from the Bloodrose Sloth territory was unmissable.
Stepping out of the station onto a wide boulevard, I stayed close between Ravik and Basir while Thornar moved a half-step ahead, already scanning. I tried to do the same. I tried to stay watchful. But the city kept pulling at me.
The copper rooftops were even more striking at street level than they had been through a car window, their green finish catching the light of the sunshine. The terraced townhomes rose on either side, and the smell of bread and coffee drifted from open windows as we passed bustling cafes.
My mates moved us through the crowds, people adjusting and moving out of our way. I was thankful for it at the moment because it really allowed me to catch each detail of the cityscape. It was so different from previous territories, especially Ironsun, and perfectly unique.
When a temple rose ahead of us I found myself moving just a bit faster, feeling the pull to truly get eyes on it.
It was enormous, the kind of building that made you feel like you could never grasp the actual scale of it.
Limestone columns with carvings of female figures lined the entrance in perfect symmetry, and above it all a great dome of glass rose against the sky with a woman at its crown.
“The temple of Sylvaern,” Ravik said. “It’s their favored god.”
The mother of growth and root. Were the women carved into the columns supposed to be her? I examined the tunic of the nearest figure, noticing the stone petals of greenery curling around the hem.
As we reached the front of the temple, the doors wide open, I couldn’t push myself to walk past it. Even the scent drifting from inside—something mossy and natural—seemed to pull me forward.
“Can we go inside?”
My mates all nodded, and Ravik took my hand while the other two settled outside, placing our bags down and getting comfortable.
As we stepped into the warmly lit temple, my eyes moved to the fantastic displays of art. Mosaics of every color, and overgrown plants adorning sculptures—all centered around a gorgeous tree that reached toward the glass dome of the roof.
“Welcome to the Temple of Sylvaeren,” said a soft-spoken woman with green hair intertwined with vines. Her power signature told me she was a shifter, but she looked as far from one as possible. She had an ethereal way about her, emphasized by her camel-colored robes decorated with real flowers.
“Thank you,” I said before explaining, “we just wanted to look inside.”
“Of course.” She motioned to the gigantic room. “Take your time. We don’t have any ceremonies going on, but if you would like a blessing, Chastidy is doing them near the tree.
“I’m Amber. If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to ask.”
Ravik offered her a nod of understanding before leading me toward the tree, which was the true showpiece of the room. Words were carved into the trunk, and the more I looked at it, the more I realized the leaves shifted and moved under our watch despite there being no breeze.
“A bit different,” Ravik murmured, his voice cautious as he caught my arm before I could drift closer. The woman standing at the base of the tree was dressed in a simpler robe, her silver hair pulled back around her face, as she offered us an understanding smile.
“I promise it’s not dangerous,” she said. “At least not right now. When she was younger, possibly, but she’s settled with age much like myself.”
There was so much to unpack there. I tapped Ravik’s hand, and he produced a low rumble before releasing me to walk forward. I decided to ask the most obvious question. “She?”
“Of course.” She motioned to the tree. “Much like my own name—Chastidy—this tree also has a name and a distinct energy.”
My eyes widened as I nodded, but I didn’t ask for the tree’s name. My instincts told me that doing so would lead to more questions than answers.
“She called you here, didn’t she? These trees act as conduits for our goddess,” Chastidy explained. “Would you like a blessing? You may hear what she has to say.”
Ravik pressed a hand to my back, and I looked up at him. I could feel his worry through our bond and I completely understood it—after all, I was more than a bit sensitive to anything related to the gods.
The thought didn’t make me feel uneasy, though. Chastidy was right. What I was sensing, the pull I had been feeling, was a call. I felt proud I’d recognized that and that I was starting to trust my instincts more with each passing day.
“What do I need to do?”
“Simply press your hand to the tree and I’ll recite the blessing,” Chastidy said, before glancing at Ravik. “You’re welcome to remain by her.”
“Be careful, lux mea.”
“I will,” I told him, feeling at peace with the decision. I approached the tree, which was slowly shifting and creaking, the movement more obvious up close. Ravik was shadowing me, and the comfort of his closeness emboldened me to lift my hand and press it to the trunk.
I didn’t even hear Chastidy start the blessing.
The moment my fingers grazed the bark, a connection flooded open—not violent or dangerous—but intentional and very much waiting for me.
I expected Nyxarra and the caged room, but I was met with a much different scene. My eyes widened as the darkness cleared to bring forth a shaded emerald green garden. It was a mere circle of space with walled vines on all sides and a soft mist blanketing the place where the sky would normally be.
“Hello?” I called out, not nervous exactly, but apprehensive. Was this Sylvaern? It was obviously not Nyxarra because I didn’t feel her magic at all.
Then in a blink, a woman appeared, causing me to step back quickly in surprise.
Her muscular stature was nearly triple mine, and her build was that of a lethal predator.
She was covered in draped fur, and her brown hair was pushed back from her scarred face and critical dark gaze.
She was terrifying and beautiful all in the same breath, and her power pushed at me in a way that made my wolf want to break out of my skin.
“Vaelithra.” The word left me as I dropped to my knees without meaning to, gripping the ground underneath me. Who else could it be? I hissed at the amount of magic surging against my skin, unable to hear what she was saying as my ears rang to the point of pain.
Suddenly the energy calmed and a soft golden glow filled the space. I lifted my head in relief and watched her shrink to my own size, offering me a look I couldn’t fully explain.
“My apologies, mortal. I often forget how delicate you are.”
Or how strong she was.
“It’s okay,” I managed, standing up straight and forcing myself to hold her gaze despite being more than a bit scared. She looked me over in confusion before arching a brow.
“You’re the mortal that Nyxarra has made her champion?”
My pride stung at her loosely veiled surprise, but I nodded once. “And you’re one of the gods stuck behind bars with her?”
“Yes,” she answered. “I have come to trust Nyxarra, so if you are the warrior she has chosen then that will have to work. Although…wasn’t there more than one of you?”
“My three mates,” I explained. “They’re part of the bond.”
“Not just any bond.” She offered a knowing smile. “But one with a god scar. Marked by more than one god—very unique indeed. That part was my idea.”
“The scar on our bond was your idea?”
“It was. When you released Nyxarra, I saw the opportunity to strengthen the bond that already existed between you and your mates, to make it something more. To allow you to harness and channel power against what is to come.”
Relief hit me. Our bond had existed before divine intervention. And now I knew the identity of the unnamed god who was on our side. I could have assumed, but having confirmation of both helped.
“What’s to come?” I asked. “You mean Ivan?”
“Ivan is nothing but a pawn.”
A pawn? Maybe in a god’s eye, in the second of time we existed compared to them. To everyone else? Ivan represented an excruciating existence and daily torture.
I must have been obvious in my reaction because the goddess offered me a conciliatory nod. “That isn’t to say what he’s doing isn’t horrific, but he’s feeding much more than his own ego.”
“Kaevor—”
A bar of gold magic flexed around my mouth to silence me. I watched Vaelithra with wide eyes as she spoke. “Don’t call on him.”
I understood, signaling with a nod before the bar fell.
“But yes, Ivan has been feeding him in exchange for power, although he believes he’s feeding Nyxarra,” Vaelithra explained, as if it was simple and not the answer we had been looking for this entire time.
“How are you here then?” I asked while looking around.
“Nyxarra has more allies than I ever did—apparently I don’t come across as friendly—and Sylvaern seemed to be in a good mood,” she mused, glancing upward with a slightly narrowed look. “But how I’m here doesn’t matter. You’re growing closer to your goal, and with it there must be absolute clarity.”
“On how to defeat Ivan?”
“Yes, but more than that. You have to stop him from performing the ritual. If you do not, chaos and war like this world has never seen will spill into Thornfell. He has had many years to plan.”
My fists tightened with nerves. “How?”
“You must defeat his mortal factions to reach the ritual. They will try to stop you. And your bond, infused with the power of two gods, must be used to defeat both Ivan and him.”
It was all of the answers I needed and yet not enough.
“You already have the way to harness and channel power against him.”
“But how?” I pressed. “How do we use it?”
“The god scar is the key, you need only to—”
The garden lurched. The mist above me thinned and Vaelithra’s expression shifted, an alarmed expression crossing her face.
“They are pulling you back,” she said simply. “Go.”
“Wait—”
But the emerald green was already dissolving at the edges, gold light bleeding through until there was nothing left but warmth and the smell of moss.
I blinked.
The dome of glass was above me. The tree was still beneath my hand but no longer moving. I became aware of Ravik’s hands on my shoulders, turning me toward him, his voice low and controlled. It always got this way when he was trying to hide the fear I could feel moving between our bonds.
“Gracie. Look at me.”
I did.
Then I looked past him to Thornar and Basir, bags abandoned outside. My voice was urgent but firm as I tried to explain.
“Vaelithra told us what we need to do.”