CHAPTER XVIII #9
Keane narrows his brown eyes on his father, grimacing as he leans forward for his drink again. The four of us from Knowledge remain quiet and still in our seats, not needing nor wanting to participate in this battle between the ruling family of Disce.
“I’d like to know more about the Leviathans,” I try clearing the tension, “deceived by water. Princess Clair of Pyre mentioned that another Kingdoms Council was called over two-hundred years ago. She said it was due to rumors that the Leviathans were committing atrocities against the humans in their lands.”
Fuck me.
Everything just seems to lead back to humans.
Are we tainted? Cursed?
Why is there so much animosity surrounding our kind?
The King gives his son a final hard look before turning in my direction.
“Can you tell us of those rumors? Of the council?” I ask.
Holis and Mana both reach for their glasses, giving the distinct impression that they know of the rumors and are well aware of them, just as they hinted last night. King Zander shifts his gaze to the twins, confirming the thought, and gives them both a slight nod.
Mana brings his blue-green gaze to me, his voice devastatingly quiet.
“The Leviathans were rumored to be taking the lives of their human young, Alexis. Sacrificing them.”
All color drains from my face as Stormfall stretches his wings wide across the table, cawing in anger.
“To what end?” I demand, consumed by anger and disgust.
“As we mentioned last night, to prolong the life of their magical beings,” Holis replies for his brother, “a terrible ritual summoning that can harness the life of one and transfer it to another.”
“That’s…”
I shake my head as a violent pull of rage devours my thoughts.
How?
How are the Leviathans allowed to grace our Kingdom? How are they allowed to stand so smugly under my castle home and walk about freely?
Politics, Lord Daniel’s hard voice reminds me again.
Fuck that!
“Was it stopped?” I turn swiftly to the King, “did the council find a resolve? Stop them?”
“Yes,” the King nods quietly, blue eyes darting across my face.
“Until recently,” Desmond states to the group before looking at his father, “my men have reported human young going missing in the dead of night over the past two years. The disappearances have been sporadic and random.”
The King nods his head to his son solemnly, already aware of the information.
Ancients.
That knowledge alone makes me want to recant my previous promise of not traveling into Livyatan.
I want to ride steady past the Riverlands and defend the human young however I can.
Summoning should not be used for such unnatural needs.
The mere thought of it is abhorrent. It’s the type of dark summoning that I stumble upon in Disce’s libraries- the text is hidden from the masses for a reason.
Where are the damn Ancients?
Why aren’t they intervening? Why aren’t they stopping this madness before it continues any farther?
Stormfall turns his head, his yellow eyes flashing an angry gold right back at me.
“You’ve slept for too long, old boy,” I narrow my gaze on the Ancient, “wake them. Wake them all. Now.”
Hirovale and Storm extend their wings across the table, the Bird of Ash bowing his head before the gold of the Ancient disappears from his eyes. I clench my fists on the table in furor, unable to comprehend how something so malicious can take place in this Old World.
“You speak to the beast as if you speak to the Ancient, Alex,” the King murmurs.
“I do,” I scowl, thinking of Hirovale.
“Ancients.”
King Zander sits back in his chair, hand finding his temple again. Holis and Mana both grin from their seats, their heads nodding quietly as they look at me in approval.
“The Leviathans know about me,” I tell the King on a deep breath, “they knew to come looking for Storm and I in the Bulwark Plains, and Prince Isham referred to me as the Human Reborn. He also called me Hirovale’s champion last night in open jest…”
My eyes hold Zander’s hard. “Is there any way they were made aware of the text before I found it? Aware of the words and what they speak of?”
King Zander considers my question, as does the rest of the table, but I already know the answer.
There’s just too many coincidences when it comes to the Leviathans, too much hinted knowledge that they know about everything going on.
They’re aware in some sort of capacity, but how they know of me and Storm and how much they’ve learned of the text remains unanswered.
“The Leviathans no doubt have their own seers and summoners that deal in the mystics,” the King considers, “as I’m sure Pyre does as well. We cannot discard the possibility that they have stumbled upon something in the same way Elena has.”
“They’ve stumbled onto something, alright,” I grumble, “Prince Isham referred to Holis and Mana as followers of Hirovale. How could he know that? How is he aware of the Ancient and his followers or the text’s reference of me?”
Because it did reference me, of that much I am certain.
I tried to keep the words hidden for the full of the travel, tried to deny their reference and what I always suspected to be true.
I knew what Hirovale wanted from me but also knew that I had no desire to comply.
Because who is he to use me to his own end, to bring about change to the Old World without my choice in the matter?
Did he ever consider that I wouldn’t actually agree with his plan?
Or will he continue to push me onto a path not of my own choosing, not of my own free will.
“Destiny, Alexis,” the King says softly, and for the first time this whole morning, I’m angered at him for reading my thoughts, “you will try to fight it, but destiny will always find you.”
“I will not be used,” I narrow my eyes on the King.
“You were touched by the Ancient’s Bird of Ash, dear, just as the prophecy foretold,” he looks at me kindly, “you are already being used.”
“Because of you!” I yell in anger, “because of the path you set me on in secret. Because of the travels that led me to the damn book! Because you hid the true nature of those travels without asking me! That’s not destiny, Your Grace. That’s the pure and calculated decisions of one man.”
I turn away from the King trembling, unable to look at him.
This isn’t right.
None of what has happened in the past two years has been right. He should’ve been honest with his proposal.
Ancients… why did I never question him before? Why was I so content in just letting things be?
Because it was easy to do so, my mind reminds me, because I was provided with an easy life, a happy life, a life that begged me not to ask questions for fear of shattering the glass walls that held it so tightly together.
This is not right.
I will entertain no notion of destiny, not when every one of my actions have been led down its path by another.
No one says a word around me, even Stormfall keeps a small distance away from the table.
I take another deep breath and reach out for my whiskey, bringing it to my lips for a heavy swig before I place it a bit too hard on the wood.
I glance around at Cal, willing my features into the cool and calm demeanor that I’ve seen Keane do so many times, but my rage just continues to grow, and I use it to back my friend into my corner.
“The Ancient Hirovale wants to wake his brothers and sisters of the Old World in hopes of restoring magic to all beings in the Kingdoms,” I tell my friend, holding his gaze hard, “Cal, do you have any desire to practice magic?”
It’s a trap, and the frown on his face tells me he knows it.
“Any desire at all?” I raise my brows in expectance.
“No, Alex,” Cal replies softly, “the desire has never been mine.”
“Nor mine,” I nod and look around the table in calm fury, “these paths, this destiny,” I spit the word, “asking me to be a champion for something I do not agree with. Who will speak for the humans of the Old World who stand against the Ancient’s agenda?
Where is the voice for those who are content in their being and have no desire to change it?
Because we exist, and we know that there is nothing wrong with humanity.
Who speaks for those of us who have no shame in our mortality, for those who have no desire to change the very nature of ourselves?
Where is that voice in this secret plot spilled forth by the Ancient? Because I see it nowhere.”
And therein lies the reasoning behind my violent reactions to the Ancient, why I hid the words of the text for so long.
I do not want to participate. I do not want humans to be used in the same way I have.
Because there is nothing wrong with us, nothing wrong that needs to be changed.
We live in our humanity and thrive, and no Ancient’s personal desire is going to use me to change that end.
I peer to Desmond at my left, noticing that all the men are looking at me differently.
The Master Informer holds my gaze steadily, still giving away no emotions as I turn towards the twins.
Holis and Mana both have a small look of astonishment on their faces, the reality just now hitting them how much I truly do not care for their Ancient.
Mana sighs when I turn in my seat to look at the King, his kind blue eyes instantly finding mine as he gives me an earnest smile.
But it’s Keane’s gaze that I seek out the most, finding the intensity there as he looks back at me in cool consideration.
I raise my brows in challenge.
Does he want me to practice magic? Is that why he had Desmond give me the oak slab and pen?
Is that why he was okay with my attempt to push some form of summoning to him when I called out for him?
Is that why he became aroused when he saw me moving Hirovale’s mist?
Does he want me to give up my humanity, my short mortal life in comparison to his?
Ancients, I desperately need the answer.